#but man; they meant so much to me and it was such a SIMPLE thing that could have changed it all that i can't help but feel a LITTLE

[thottieonline]

PENN’S HOTTEST VIRGIN

LUIGI MANGIONE X VIRGIN! FEM READER

IN WHICH — Reader goes to her first Frat Party at Phi Kappa Psi, partying with Frat President Luigi Mangione.

WARNINGS — SMUT!! Porn with a Plot! Minors DNI!

CONTAINS — Loss of Virginity (Duh), Religious themes, PinV! Oral (Fem! Receiving), Praise! Blasphemy — we knew it was coming. Reader wears glasses (a bit self indulgent, lol)

NOTES — So. Much. Dirty. Talk. Luigi’s a little rough but we love it! Like this is just straight PORN I’m so sorry!! Anyways, this is my first smut on Tumblr, so excited to be here!

To Y/N, it seemed that it was a social norm to have had sexual experiences or have been in a relationship, especially by your second year in one of the biggest party schools in the country — So how was it possible someone as beautiful as Y/N could remain untouched?

She knew her male peers gawked at her and shamelessly spoke about her whenever she walked by, often hearing the things they wanted to do to her in passing, ultimately sending shivers down her spine.

She was innocent, not stupid.

Considering she came from a family devoted to their Catholic faith, they had tried their best to shield her from a life of “sin.” However, as she grew older, she started to question her religion.

Would I really go to hell for doing this? If I wasn’t meant to be doing this, why does it feel so good?

Those questions eventually lead her to make more impulsive decisions. After all, you’re only twenty in one of the biggest party schools once.

Ask for forgiveness, not permission — The voice of her roommate Blair spoke into her head. Blair being her voice of unreason, she encouraged her to be more wild, thus leading to them getting ready for a frat party at one a.m on a Tuesday.

“B, you still haven’t told me what frat we’re going to.” Y/N yelled over Blair’s loud music, Blair only sparing a glance at her and refocused on her hair. “We’re going to Kappa.”

Phi Kappa Psi was one of UPenn’s biggest frat houses, gaining a reputation for throwing the wildest parties on campus, competing with other frat houses on who could garner the most attention, in-campus and off-campus.

Other Fraternities pale in comparison to Phi Kappa as they miss one important element — Luigi Mangione.

Luigi Mangione managed to make a name for himself as a fourth year student, making a lasting impression on his fellow peers and professors. Being exceptionally gifted in Computer Science, Robotics, and Charisma — Mangione had the respect of everyone around him in the palm of his hand.

Mangione being five-foot-eleven, athletic and intelligent with unruly curly hair and a smile to die for — It was simple, really. Every man wanted to be him, while every girl prayed for the opportunity to be the next one he took to bed.

She was no exception — though she never voiced her desires out loud. Y/N often imagined his lips trailing down her neck, his lips creating a suction on her sensitive skin, sucking on her vanilla lotioned skin to the point of bruising.

God only knew how much she wanted to be marked up by him. Her virgin mind constantly thought about sex, but she couldn’t think about anyone else but him. No one else had her attention like he did and that was exactly how she liked it.

She only thought about Luigi fucking her to the point where she cried, her pussy being used and overfilled with his cum. She’d imagine him continuing to fuck her after she lost count of how many times she came, the glasses she normally wore on her face were nowhere to be found.

Y/N imagined Luigi calling her his perfect slut, praising her ability to take all of him like a champ.

“God it’s like this pussy was made for me. Tell me, how good do I fuck you, baby?”

“Such a good fucking slut for me, N/N.”

“You’re so fucking pretty, baby. Let me see you.”

Just the thought of him made her thighs clench together. Luigi was the only one she would ever let fuck raw. She needed to feel all of him, every inch and every vein of his Italian cock. She wanted Luigi to ruin her for other men, fucking her so good to the point all she can remember is his name.

It’d be even better for her to wake up to such a deliciously painful reminder of him when she’s hardly able to walk the next morning.

“Okay, I’m done.” Blair spoke, quickly snapping Y/N back to reality. She looked at her roommate, seeing she had finished getting ready for the night.

Since it was a frat party, Y/N and Blair were dressed in simple yet sexy outfits— Y/N opting for a black tank top, pairing them with denim shorts that were tight on her ass and her beat up sneakers.

She’d done her hair hours ago, opting to go straight, putting her trust onto the anti-humidity products she put in her hair to last all night.

“Bitch you look so good.” She smiled, Blair giving her a full 360 of her outfit. “Thank you, baby.” Blair smiled at her compliment.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to get fucked tonight, looking all sexy.” Blair teased, making Y/N roll her eyes, fighting back a smile.

“So what if I am?” She challenged, half-jokingly.

Blair squealed, “She’s finally coming out of her shell! Took almost two years but we’re here.” She quickly wrapped her arms around Y/N. “C’mon, let’s get you fucked up tonight!”

Before she knew it, Y/N had stepped foot onto Kappa grounds, already trashed with red solo cups and a couple of passed out partygoers on the front yard — It looked like a scene straight out of Project X.

Careful to not step on those passed out on the grass, Y/N and Blair made it to the front door, pathetically guarded by one of the seemingly drunk pledges. “Damn, looking good mamis.”

The two giggled at the slurred voice of the young man, “You two on the list?” He asked. Before Y/N could open her mouth, Blair already began talking to him.

“Not really, but I think you can make an exception for tonight?” Blair flirted, placing her manicured hand on his bicep, giving the young man false hope of something happening later on.

“Fuck,” He uttered under his breath. “Yeah, you two can come in. Enjoy, ladies.” He stepped out of the way, letting Y/N and Blair come through.

“You gotta teach me how to do that.” Y/N chuckled. “It was like you didn’t have to try at all.”

“Y/N, please, you can totally do that. You just overthink things too much. You didn’t see how he was looking at you at the door?” Blair chuckled. “Now, let’s get you some liquid courage — God knows how much you need it.”

With that, Blair took Y/N’s hand and led her to the dining room, where the infamous Kappa jungle juice was placed. Blair poured herself and Y/N a full cup — the combination of the sweet cranberry juice and the unforgiving strong scent of liquor nearly sent her to a drunken state.

Out of habit, she did a silent prayer before she downed her drink.

“Fuck, that’s strong.” She groaned to herself, the bitter taste of the liquor lingering on her tongue. Y/N pushed herself to drink more — It wouldn’t be a complete first frat party experience without getting shitfaced drunk.

Blair giggled at the sight, “I’ll be right back, N/N. Stay here, ‘Kay?”

“Mhm.” Y/N hummed, acknowledging her. She continued to drink, silently praying once more to get her through the unforgiving taste of the drink in her cup.

God, if you let me get through this, I promise you—

“Yeah, I’d say the prayer is totally necessary.” A deep voice spoke close to her, interrupting her moment with the man upstairs. Y/N turned her head to the side out of curiosity and there he stood less than a foot away — Luigi fucking Mangione smirking at her.

“Say, were you also raised catholic or was that for dramatics?” He teased, making her blush as she looked down at her feet before looking up at him again.

“Definitely both.” Y/N laughed, her free hand playing with her gold cross necklace that laid nicely on her chest.

Luigi’s gaze flickering from her eyes onto her necklace. He admired how the gold cross complimented her glistened skin. The last piece of Y/N’s devotion to God contrasting with the less-than-holy outfit she had on drove him insane.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” She spoke, the liquor giving her the courage to introduce herself — something she could’ve never imagined doing stone cold sober. The sound of her voice made him flicker his gaze from her chest onto her eyes, decorated with her signature frames.

He smirked to himself before telling her — “I know who you are, pretty. I’m just surprised to see you here, that’s all.” With that, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her body closer to his, her heart racing faster with just a simple touch.

“You do?” She questioned.

Mangione was two years above her and to the best of her knowledge, they didn’t have any classes together. It was a really big school, after all.

“You don’t know?” He asks, taking in how her eyes glimmered with curiosity as she shook her head. “You’ve seriously never seen the Penn Crush page on Facebook?”

“You know, I don’t really use Facebook like that — So, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.” She smiles, watching him pull out his phone to look up the infamous Penn Crushes page on his screen.

A few seconds pass by and there she was — Y/N L/N all in her glory. She scrolled through his screen, seeing the countless pictures taken of random students that deemed was submitted to the page — yet a lot of those pictures were of her.

There was one picture of her taken from afar where she sat on a random bench, presumably waiting for her next class, and there was another one that she recalled Blair taking a picture and uploaded on her Instagram story. It must’ve been screenshot and submitted as she saw the amount of likes on the post.

She continued to scroll until she saw one post where the caption immediately grabbed her attention —

Penn’s Hottest Virgin, Y/N L/N in a throwback post with the Penn Catholic Service Association. It’s great knowing she’s kept her promise! #virginityrocks

“Oh My God.” Y/N laughs at the post. She recalled joining PCSA when she first came to the school to have an outlet where she could be with others like herself.

She’d thought it’d be a good way to stay connected to her religion while forming new friendships, becoming a dedicated member of the association and getting involved with her community.

Y/N recalled the event from the post as she had to prepare a speech on why it was important to her to keep her promise to God to maintain her purity. At the time, she didn’t mind that people knew if she was a virgin — It was the whole point of the speech!

However, as time passed on and she had since left the association, it was definitely something that she wouldn’t have shared now, nearly two years later.

She read through the comments, barely processing the countless amounts of praise she received unbeknownst to her. “I didn’t think I was on anyone’s radar,” She joked, “Especially as the hottest virgin.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely a fan favorite.” He told her, not before he pulled her impossibly closer. “Have you kept your promise?” He teased, seeing the almost immediate effect he had on her.

She didn’t know if it was the combination of the crowded room they were in with the liquor or the fact that Mangione’s lips were on her ear, asking a question that sounded so innocent, yet so filthy.

The heat rising in her body was getting too much. Y/N felt his hazel eyes following her every move, from the way she subtly pushes up her glasses to the way she clenches her thighs together to relieve the ache in between her legs.

“Yes, sir.” She smiled at him, “But, I think I wanna break it.”

“You do?” He cooed, tucking her hair behind her ear. Luigi knew she wanted him as bad as he did, but he needed those words to come out of her mouth.

She bit her lip, holding back her words for the last time. “I want you to take my virginity.”

With that, he put down his cup on the remaining space on the counter, taking her hand in his and leading her up to his room.

The hallways were completely closed off. It was quiet, a complete one-eighty of the chaos that ensued everywhere else. Luigi unlocked his room, holding the door open for her as she entered what she would describe as the closest thing to heaven.

Y/N turned around to see him close the door and without hesitation, he pulled her by her waist and placed his soft, plump lips onto hers, starting her off slow and sensual — It was the perfect first kiss, she thought, but she knew the slow pace wasn’t going to be enough.

She wanted him so fucking bad, wanting to prove to him that she could take it like the good fucking girl she is. She’d been waiting for him all this time and she couldn’t let it go to waste. Y/N pulled him impossibly closer to her as she began to channel her insatiable desire for him, Mangione following suit.

His hands trailed from her waist and latched onto her hips, fueled by desire as he backed her onto his mattress, their bodies creating a soft thud on the bed. Never breaking the kiss, Luigi ground himself onto her denim shorts, making her moan into the kiss.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” She whimpered, breaking away from their kiss. He was orally fixated on her, his lips continuing their delicious assault on her sensitive skin.

“Gonna mark you up real nice, baby.” He uttered, eliciting a moan from her in response. “You like that, hm? You wanna be marked up by me?”

“So fucking bad.” He smirked at her confession, placing his lips back onto her neck and trailed down to her belly button. His strong hands roughly pulled down her denim shorts, Y/N’s body clad with her tank top and her soaked white thong.

The cool air in his bedroom didn’t help relieve the ache in between her thighs, needing him more than ever. “Bow on your panties? How cute.” He teased, pushing her panties to the side as he licked a bold stripe on her slit.

Her hips jolted at the newfound sensation, Mangione smiling at her reaction. His hands gripped onto her hips as he continued to use his tongue on her relentlessly, needing her to get himself drunk. Luigi couldn’t help himself but gather every last drop of her juices on his tongue, tasting her virginal pussy.

A string of sounds escaped her mouth as his tongue continued to work through her folds, circling his tongue around her clit before sucking on it. Her knees buckled at the suction of his lips.

“Fuck, L-Luigi.” She whimpered.

It was all happening so fast, her mind in a haze as Luigi held her up, throwing one of her legs over his shoulder as he continued to give his all, devouring her as if she was his last meal.

He had love for the game, so determined to make her first time worth it — wanting her to scream his name loud enough so everyone could know he was the first one to fuck Penn’s Hottest Virgin.

“Say it louder, baby. Need everyone to hear you.” He heaved, replacing his mouth with his long, skilled fingers.

She cried in pleasure as his two fingers stretched her out like no other, his digits pressing right up against that spot deep inside her that she could never reach on her own. Her glasses had slipped off her face, laid somewhere on his mattress.

It would’ve frustrated her to not be able to see, but with how good he’d been giving it to her, her eyes had stayed shut, the poor girl only being able to keep them open for only a few seconds until the next wave of pleasure.

“Put them back on for me, baby — Please.” He pleaded, loving how her glasses decorated her face. That was her signature, she’d never been without her glasses since the first time he saw her.

She reached out for her glasses, feeling the hard plastic beside her, putting them back on her beautiful face.

“Did so fucking good baby, listening to me.” He praises her, taking out his fingers and putting his mouth back on her needy pussy.

Y/N was so fucking close, her legs shaking around him as he devours until there’s nothing left — Luigi drinking up all her juices as they spread from her pussy to her thighs and undoubtedly his bedsheets.

Mangione had taken everything from her at that moment — her body, mind and voice. It was all too much, her needy hands reached into his bed of curls, gripping onto them as she buried him impossibly deeper between her thighs.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck Lui, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonn-” She cried out, tears running down her face as his name rolled off her tongue, his name being said so many times as if it were a prayer.

It was so sinful, so sexy, and he loved it.

“Cum on it, baby.” He urged, his tongue desperate for another taste. Luigi had been hooked from the first drop and had a craving for more. His tongue trailed from her hole onto the top of her folds, swallowing the remaining juices on her pussy.

“You taste so fucking good.” He praised, kissing her right inner thigh. Luigi could spend his entire life reliving this moment, worshipping her body.

Her body was in a near paralyzed state, the only signs of her liveliness was her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. Her glasses were now sitting at the tip of her nose, making her look so much sexier to him.

Luigi tried to fight back his infamous shit-eating smirk, but it was no use. He smiled proudly, showcasing the infamous fangs that everyone had been obsessed with, Y/N included.

Seeing those fangs reignited the fire in her body, needing to feel him again. Y/N lifted herself up and got on her fours, crawling to the edge of the bed where he remained kneeled.

There was nothing else on her mind but him. She wanted him to ruin her so fucking badly and so did he. His hazel eyes were clouded with lust as were hers. His dick was uncomfortably strained against his shorts, begging to be inside her virgin pussy.

Mangione leaned closer, his hands gently grab on to her face as he brings her closer to his face, closing the gap between them.

He held her face as their lips moved in sync, much hungrier than before, Y/N tasting the combination of the sweet jungle juice and herself on his tongue. Her hands trailed down his toned body, feeling his hard cock on the palm of her hand.

“Not sure if all of that is gonna fit inside me, Lui.” She joked, as she pulled away from the kiss, gently squeezing his bulge. It felt so fucking good under her hand, the feeling of how hard he was for her made her so much wetter.

“We’ll make it fit. I’ll make sure you’ll take all of it.” He promised, sealing it with a kiss. He pulled down his shorts, revealing how big he was — His tip glossed with precum. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long, N/N — wanted you in my bed since I first saw you.” He confesses, guiding his dick between her folds. His tip rested right at her pussy, inching in slowly as she winced in pain.

“Want me to stop, baby?” He coos, caressing her soft thigh.

She shook her head, “I-I can take it, Lui—S-Swear.”

Satisfied, he pushes himself in her even more. “God, you feel so fucking good — wanna fuck you so hard, but we gotta wait, right?” He teased.

“Fuck me, Lui.” She pleaded, pulling his face down so she could whisper into his ear, the hard plastic pressed against the shell of his ear — “I want you to fuck me until I can't walk straight."

With that, he pushed himself all the way inside, his dick harder than ever before. The burning sensation intensified, a small shriek erupting from her throat. “F-Fuck.” Y/N gasped.

The initial pain soon subsided as he continued to thrust, his hips connecting to hers — Luigi & Y/N becoming one. She cried with pleasure as Luigi’s pace intensified, making her tits’ jiggle out of the skimpy tank top, her eighteen karat gold chain smacking against her chest.

It felt so fucking wrong, yet so fucking right.

He wasn’t ever supposed to see her in that way — For fucks’ sake, he wasn’t even supposed to know who she was!

Mangione was her fantasy come to life. She loved the way he felt, his cock going in so deep inside her he could see an imprint of where he was. He couldn’t resist, taking her hand in his and placing it on her stomach.

“You feel that? I want you to remember it f-forever.” He groaned. Her cunt grasped him hard, holding him even tighter.

“Oh fuck! Y-You make me feel so fucking g-good, baby.” She whimpered.

“Yeah?” He mocked, grinding his hips deeper into hers, his pace slowing down a bit, making her feel every inch and vein of his. She clenched around him once more, Luigi groaning at the sudden tightness. He worked harder, hips snapping into hers as he picked up the pace once again.

Y/N loved how full he made her, the way he didn’t leave a single part of her body untouched.

“God, it’s like this pussy was made for me. Tell me, how good do I fuck you, baby?” He gripped on her hips, smiling at her fucked out expression.

“So,” It was all she could get out, her speech becoming more incoherent the closer she got. Y/N placed her manicured fingers on her clit rubbing her sensitive bud in circles, matching his pace.

Her body squirmed at the dual stimulation — It was all becoming too much. Y/N wanted this to last forever, never wanting to forget how his big dick felt inside her body, fucking her like the slut she knew she was.

“Luigi!” She screamed in pleasure, reaching her peak. Her walls pulsated around him like crazy, nearly sending Luigi into his climax. As much as he wanted to cum inside her, the thought of him cumming on her beautiful glasses sent him into overdrive.

God, he just loved her fucking glasses.

“Please baby, I just wanna cum on your glasses. Can I, baby?” He pleaded, pulling out of her. He took his needy cock in his strong hand, he inching closer to her frames.

He was so close, how could she deny him such a pleasure?

Y/N nodded, excitedly grabbing his dick from his hold and jerked him, aiming him closer to her frames. “Like this?” She asked sweetly as he shuddered around her touch.

His cum quickly shot out of him, landing on her glasses and coating her vision. “Just like that, sweetheart.” He assured her.

Luigi released himself from her touch, wanting to mark her up with his cum, aiming for below her stomach. He released a string of curses under his breath, chasing his much needed relief.

“Fuck, that was definitely the best sex I’ve ever had.” He breathed, feeling so fucked out as he laid next to Y/N’s body.

At that point, her hair had been messed up as the anti-humidity spray was no longer holding up as some texture had shown up, adding onto her “sexed out” look.

Even with her hair wild and free, she still managed to look so beautiful — Luigi couldn’t get enough.

She shook her head, playfully rolling her eyes at him. “Please, you’re just saying that.”

“I mean every word I say, Y/N. I’ve thought about you so much, it drove me insane — Do you know how hard it is to run a fraternity when there’s only one thing on your mind?” He ranted, now getting up from his spot on the bed.

She shook her head, knowing he couldn’t see her from his private bathroom. She was amused with the Italian. “Didn’t know it was so hard on you, Mr. President.”

“Very hard, actually.” He stated, returning with a damp cloth and wiping her body down. “Especially when she was known as the hottest virgin.” He joked, making her laugh.

Once she’s all wiped down, Luigi then uses his own personal glasses cleaning kit from his bedside drawer, spraying the liquid onto the stained glass, cleaning her frames with such care.

“You’re too much, Luigi.” She smiled, adoring the man beside her. “So detailed, too.”

“I’ll prove it everyday if I have to, Bellisima.” He professes, placing her frames back on her face with such care. “I’m not letting you go after everything you said to me.” Luigi pulls her in for another kiss, reassuring her he was there to stay.

[alilobsessive]

The Terrible Crow

All your life you desired recognition from your father, well you got it! But not from your bio dad, things only grow worse from there. For the Bats, not for you.

All your life you have longed for one thing, you’re Father’s recognition. At first it was simple things, like getting good grades, school awards. Anything for him to tell you how good of a job you’re doing. When he brought in Dick that changed, the escalation was quick. If he could be Robin, if he could fight with your Father why couldn’t you? Eventually after years of begging he agreed, then not even a week later he took in Jason and he became the new Robin. Your Father told you it was because he was older then you, already making it safer for him to go then you. When you brought up the fact that you’re the same age as Dick when he started, your father countered that Dick already had years more training with his parents than you.

After that you reluctantly didn’t argue, scared of seeming like nothing more than a spoiled kid. Jason in you began training together, although the two of you grew a bond it never felt right. Everyone called you close and although you liked him a part of you was resentful. You’re Father was always tougher on your training then Dick or Jason, always finding a flaw no matter how long you practice. In a way it helped you perfect your skills to the last detail. But he never told you “good job” not like Dick or Jason, it was always moving right on to the next thing. After Jason’s death the training got worse, he was somehow harder and stricter than before. You went to bed sore with aching bones and bruises from training, if you went to bed at all that is. Sometimes your sleep schedule was what was being trained, he would make you stay up for days at I time, rarely doing anything more than a nap. He told you this was similar to the training he went through, that it would make you stronger.

You never got the chance to prove it though, not even a half a year since Jason died a new boy was brought in. Tim’s the same age as you, highly intelligent and good at stealth but completely untrained. “SO WHY IS HE ROBIN!” You screeched at the man you call Father, Tim stands there glaring at you. He has a red mark on his cheek from where you slapped him when you were told he would be Robin. You were instantly yelled at and reprimanded by your Father for this, which started this argument in the first place. “I HAVE TRAINED FOR MOST OF MY LIFE FOR THIS, I HAVE DONE ALMOST EVERYTHING YOU WANTED ME TO! I FOLLOWED YOUR ORDERS I DEDICATED MY LIFE TO THIS” You scream at him, tears filling your eyes and falling down your cheeks. He just stares at you, expression blank and unchanging “what made you think I’d ever make you Robin?” Is all he says. Freezing you just stare at him crushed. “You’re dismissed” you feel like he spits it out, he doesn’t but it feels like he does “don’t ever train here again, nor even think about being a vigilante” you’ve never felt so much rage and sorrow before. You turn around to leave pushing Tim to the ground as you do “you’re grounded!” He calls out. Without even looking back you flip him off “fuck you Bruce!”.

After that things were never the same, you never wanted to try at anything anymore. What was the point in constantly studying if it meant nothing? So you did whatever you wanted, there were barely any consequences. Bruce didn’t give a shit about you, he never truly did. Alfred always sided with Bruce, sure he called him out when he was in the wrong, but that rarely changed anything with you. Dick was as absent in your life as ever. Finally you and Tim’s relationship was shit, it would never recover, at least you didn’t care if it did or not.

Eventually though you stumbled across a niche that peaked your interest. It started small, quick one minute videos about animal biology you finished the nearly 10 year old channel's entire library of content in 2 days. Then it evolved into animal psychology and finally to humans, what made them tick. It was fascinating every last detail interested you, from the mating habits of raccoons to the study that showed most humans could pick out snakes in extremely pixelated and blurry images. Even the more questionable experiments that would never pass today, like the wire and cloth mothers, and the monster study. Things that would have been difficult to prove or research if it wasn’t for the unethicalness of it all. Hell, even the bullshit study with gorillas learning sign language was interesting, even if the whole thing was completely pointless and awfully mismanaged. It was just so interesting to learn about.

Then you stumbled across it, a familiar name, Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow. All his published studies were almost 2 decades old, but that didn’t stop how interesting they were. Both as a glimpse into the mind of a madman who long had his license revoked and as a study in how the mind understood fear in general. Sure you were made to memorize his habits, his usual schemes, hell you even helped reverse engineer and make a cure for several of his fear toxin strands. But you never learned about his studies, never learned about the person behind the mask. But now you wanted to, desperately, of course you couldn’t just go to Arkham. Bruce would learn about it and who knows what he would do once he learns of your little…. curiosity.

No, you didn’t want that, so you lied in wait for the perfect time. But while you did so you studied, falling back into old habits. Day and night you obsessively researched human psychology, several studies both bullshit and true. You memorized everything, dates, names, places, what effects they had, any changes or new revelations in the study, what they were studying and in some cases what they ended up actually studying. You even ended up dabbing deeper into chemistry. All of this to impress someone, but you enjoyed learning these things. All of this was fun, unlike dealing with Bruce.

Then finally the day came, Scarecrow broke out of Arkham. Using the skills Bruce ground into your brain you found him. It was pretty easy, you're shocked he didn’t find Scarecrow sooner. Of course you ended up captured, tied to a chair in one of his labs. Oh also a gun pointed at your head, neat! “What are you doing here?” Scarecrow says suspiciously, a wide grin forms on your face as you happily say “I want you to teach me!” The man just looked at you strangely. Then he laughed, “this isn’t a very funny joke kid” the man sneered at you. “But I’m not! I’ve read your work Mr. Crane! It’s absolutely fascinating! I want to learn more, especially about your newer unpublished stuff!” He just stares at you, “really?” He asks, pointing the gun down. Although he doesn’t look like he believes you, “then prove it” before you can even react the gun is back at your head and he shoots.

The bullet barely misses but you don’t move, don’t even flinch, you just smile. You know how manic you look, but you don’t care. Scarecrow just stares at you surprised, he completely lowered the gun and put it away. “Well..” he mumbles, “I guess I can give you a test” that made you feel nothing but pure glee.

The costume you were put in started out simple, a almost completely black suit with blue gloves and a mask vaguely resembling a plague doctor. You thought you looked like a rip off emperor's coven member but that’s not that important. As Crow as his apprentice you were first given grunt work, helping and leading his henchman in getting supplies for whatever project he was working on. That was when you weren’t doing homework, taking notes, organizing documents. The Bat’s were completely unaware of what you were doing, sure they knew you had something after school. The one time they asked you told them you got an internship. They didn’t even bother to verify if that was true or not. Alfred was the only one who even slightly cared and even then he was just proud that you finally found a calling away from the vigilante life. Boy was he only slightly correct.

Things started ramping up after you defeated Tim, Robin in combat. The pure smug joy you felt at that moment is indescribable. The rejected Robin, who's rusty, proving that they're stronger, faster, smarter, better than the current? You were so excited you almost went into hysterics, and the fear on his face as you brutally kicked his ass? Priceless! They didn’t even realize it was you, but Scarecrow did, he recognized how similar your fighting style are instantly. At first you were worried, scared even about what he’d do now that he knew. Truthfully he was suspicious at first, but once you told him your story, how you were rejected from being Robin in favor of the second and third. How cruel they were to you before and after, even said you would tell him the secret identities of the bat’s and everyone you know is affiliated with them. Both publicly and privately, although he rejected your offer he saw your desperation. How much you want, no needed to stay, to keep this. Scarecrow accepted your loyalty and at that moment you truly became Crow.

To commemorate this occasion you got an outfit change. It became more padded, the mask looking more like a helmet then anything, and boots that increase your height by several inches. You were also made to train in a different combat style with both the added height and change of vision it was a necessity. But also to help cover your tracks as Crow from the Bat’s. So you grow, you changed, you trained and trained and they never noticed. Not when you came back injured from work, with new bruises and scars. Not when you came home with gifts, or when you brought your assignments back with you. They were completely ignorant as Scarecrow, Jonathan Crane, he became your family, your father.

Eventually though Bruce got suspicious, he never figured out who you were, not until much later. But he realized you're doing something shady, the man never put in the effort to figure out what exactly. So he sent you off to a college far from the city, of course he let you pick the field you wanted. It wasn’t too hard to figure out what to do, psychology was already your passion after all and you were being trained by the best. The only issue was Crow, how to excuse there absence. So faking an extreme injury a week before you left easily fixed that. Afterwards you packed up and went to school, a school you would never return from, not to the manor at least.

There you continued your studies, your training in all forms and your contacts with Scarecrow. The only real difficult thing was not getting caught in your less ethical studies. You spent from the age of 18 to 24 studying as much as possible in your field getting both a bachelor’s and master’s. The plan was to go for a PHD too, but sadly things were interrupted and you quickly returned home. Your dad, Scarecrow was extremely injured during a fight and was in the hospital. Someone needed to step up, that person was you.

This time your outfit changed once more, it made you look even bigger and bulkier then you were. A cloak with a feathered collar, iron gloves with clawed ends, the faceless bird helmet looking even more imposing. Everything in your power to make you look as menacing as possible, large and imposing, a night to rival the knight. As you were making your return known you discovered something interesting, a new Robin, a baby brother. Dispute your issue with your family something about this was exciting. You felt so happy and you didn’t know why, but the fact he’s a Robin? Well, the kid needed to be taught a very important lesson before he learned it the hard way.

It wasn’t hard leading him to Wayne tower by himself. Kid had the skills but no discipline, reckless and willing to do anything to prove himself worthy. You can relate, which is way it has to be you who dose this. You approach the 10 year old boy from the shadows “you came alone hatchling?” You say in a soft voice. He jumps away and wipes his head around to face you eyes wide, he pulls out his sword and points it at you. “How-“ “a magician never reveals there secrets” you say playfully “now put the sword down baby bird” he doesn’t just glares at you. He then lunges forward aiming for your throat, but it wasn’t hard to grab the blade and rip it from his hand. He stares at you wide eyed as you throw it to the other side of the building, he quickly reorganize himself and throw a punch. But you dodge it, each kick and punch he sent was easily avoided.

As he moved to kick your head you grabbed his leg, and pulled him away. “You know” you begin walking to the edge tone not changing, “in nature Crows and Robins have an interest relationship. Crows are an omnivorous creature, they don’t just eat seeds and nuts like some people will have you believe. They’ve even been reported to peck out the eyes and tongues of lambs. Robins are no exception,” you hold him over the edge and watch as his eyes widen. He squirms and yells, “Crows will actually protect the nests of Robins, for a fee of course.” Batman should appear any minute now. “There young, they take and feast on the eggs and hatchlings. They basically farm them, it’s fascinating really. Crows are one of the smartest birds, about as intelligent as a 7 year old human. We’re watching the first signs of the evolution of a society!” You say almost giddy, “little mafias! It’s adorable and fascinating!” “We’re are you going with this” you just stare down at him, your mask making it nothing more then a dark void. You can practically feel his presence close to you, “it’s simple really! I’ve never been payed my dues! And you’re just a hatchling that doesn’t know better” and you drop him.

Batman catches him of course, but by the time he does and gets back up the tower you’re already long gone.

——————

Sorry if it takes a while for me to post things! I haven’t been feeling great both physically and mentally lately.

[lexirosewrites]

Ficlet idea, designer Eddie and model Steve

OH NO OMFG this prompt was from a year and a half ago (September 2023) because i apparently wrote this whole thing and then accidentally lost it in my drafts😭😭😭 might as well post it now!

A New Muse

Eddie can’t say how he went from the Indiana trailer park to having his own collection at New York Fashion Week without explaining that things like that don’t usually happen to people like him.

Maybe it was the luck of being born an alpha. Or maybe it was just stupid fate.

Who knows? Certainly not him.

And although he’s been used to the lifestyle of excess and glamor for a while now, sometimes the world he lives in now still manages to amaze him.

All it took was a lucky break and his work being seen by the right people. Then he’d been whisked away to riches and fame, his name becoming known by every young adult in a matter of months.

Suffice to say that by this point, Eddie wasn’t overly surprised when he was asked to do a feature piece in a big time magazine. The editor had specifically requested for him to design a few grunge menswear outfits to be modeled alongside the article about his rise to success.

Eddie spent weeks grueling over his designs, making sure all his pieces were representative of the kind of work he does, but it was a struggle to create something that he was proud of and that would explain his vision of fashion.

The interview itself was simple enough, just a handful of questions by someone who already knew far too much about his life. They skirted around his less than pretty past and played up the rags to riches aspect that everyone loved to oversell when it comes to alphas.

And then came the photoshoot.

Eddie had been given measurements of an up-and-coming model who would be showcasing all of the designs. Supposedly, the guy was fine modeling both masculine and feminine clothing, so Eddie was able to keep his sizing consistent across the board.

The only mistake was that he was never given a photo of the model. Or told that he was an omega.

He had no clue that the model would be the most stunning man he’s ever seen.

“Hi, I’m Stevie,” the angle introduced himself with a dimpled smile and wide eyes. His scent dripping with sugary sweetness. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Eddie almost forgets to shake his hand, too enamored with the beautiful omega being presented to him on a platter. He recovers enough to slip his hand into the waiting one.

“I’m an alpha.”

That’s definitely not what he meant to say.

Steve chuckles, a soft charming little thing.

“Good to know. Do you have a name, alpha?”

Eddie’s tongue feels too big for his mouth. He might be drooling. He’s definitely lightheaded.

The omega called him alpha. He could be his alpha.

“Um, I’m so sorry! Eddie! It’s Eddie!” he spits out in a rush, attempting to recover from his temporary lapse in sanity.

Another angelic noise of amusement.

“You’re sweet, Eddie,” Steve tells him, sounding slightly forlorn about it. “But I can’t date a coworker.”

Eddie can practically feel his ears pin back against his head in disappointment like a kicked puppy.

“Oh. Right, yeah, no that makes sense. Smart idea. Gotta be careful when you’re a professional.” His voice is thin and unconvincing.

Being rejected by a perfect angel hurts more than he thought it would.

Steve’s perfectly plump lips turn upward slowly.

“But if you find me after the shoot when we’re not coworkers anymore, you can buy me coffee. That is… if you let go of my hand so I can do my job first.”

Jesus Christ.

Eddie had never let go of his hand.

He loosens his grip long enough for Steve to make it through the shoot and then he vows to never let go again.

They’re mated a year later, right before Steve changes his modeling demographic to maternity photoshoots instead.

And Eddie finds his lifelong muse.

[chiliconsharls]

So, I caved in and I did it in detail! A few days ago I posted a meme of the Charlos lore iceberg but then I had some people asking about some bits and I thought, oh, might as well make the whole masterpost. LOW AND BEHOLD, it is here; an extensive compilation of the rich Charlos lore

Below the cut because boy is this bitch long

DISCLAIMER: before we begin I must note a few things. First, this isn't a whole detailed timeline of Charles&Carlos' relationship and every single bit of their moments bc I would've genuinely gone insane, so, like with the iceberg meme, this is merely key details of their relationship that make ME particularly unwell. This is also almost 2K words long. Lastly, not all points are linked as some of them are rather quite simple to find with an easy Google search

They have the same name in different languages. (In fact, Carlos has explained that his ‘chilli’ nickname comes from the fact that a lot of his friends went from calling him ‘charlie’ to calling him ‘chilli’). Their name is of Germanic origin and it means “free man”. Charles is the French/English version of it, Carlos is the Spanish one.

Beginnings & Pre-Ferrari era (2017-2020)

“I knew you before you knew me” – Charles said he had heard about Carlos when he was coming up in racing while Carlos was competing in KF3 (2008-2009)

They were already hanging out by 2017, when Charles was still only a Ferrari academy driver – as told by a reddit user who works in the Yas Marina circuit and shared the story with a tiny Renault helmet signed by Carlos

“I said this guy’s not beating me, no fucking way” – Carlos in Drive to Survive S01E02 after his battle with Charles in the Azerbaijan GP. (Sidenote: The first episode of DTS dedicated to Charles –S01E08– also showcases a battle with Carlos briefly)

Marina Bay Sands pool story – in several instances now, they both have shared the story of their first meeting/first ‘real’ conversation back in 2018, during the race week of the Singapore GP. They both said they saw each other at the pool of Marina Bay Sands hotel (it’s still unclear whether they were inside the pool or just by), and they had dinner where they talked for a while.

Carlos’ said that that first conversation made him think Charles was a good guy but also that when he first talked to him, he seemed innocent

2018 Autosport Awards interview  – Charles is giving an interview about how his exciting new season is coming and Carlos pops in and tugs him by the ear, making as if to give him a little smooch

“Carlos! My future teammate!”

Ferrari era (paper & cotton years – 2021-2022)

Youngest Ferrari duo

Lord Perceval nickname is born – despite claims that Charles disliked the nickname Carlos gave him (as requested by Charles himself that Carlos ‘from now on, call me Lord Perceval”), Charles went on to have it as his personal tag on his cap –made for driver use only. He’s also used ‘Perceval’ as his aviator call sign when he did some training with the French Air Force.

Jenga challenge video

Fiorano music challenge – this is their core happy memory, as they have said a few times themselves

“I started to listen to some jazz in the mornings” “Jazz?”

Chess – chess is one core activity they do. They would play a lot, even online. Charles would even stop talking to Carlos when he lost sometimes, and Carlos has stated that he only plays it with Charles.

Charles’ said Carlos plays better at night, and he plays better in the morning to evening. “The flights together are probably the ones I enjoy the most (...) we will put our phones away and play chess. That’s where we have the most interesting and deep conversations and I have really, really good memories of that”

“You haven’t showered together?” “We’re not that close yet” // “I find you spontaneously funny” “Carlos doesn’t do anything but he makes me laugh” – Sky Sports game interview in 2021

Charles going to watch Carlos on the podium in Monaco – Carlos talked later in 2024 about how much it meant for him to see Charles there

“Mate! You are looking at me!”

Red porn couch debriefs videos – not much to say, tbh, Ferrari sat them in a sus red couch to shoot the debrief post-race videos. Some of them are quite something

“Come on, Charles, don’t do this!” – Carlos’ radio in Saudi Arabia ‘21

Jean Alesi calling them ‘la bella coppia’ (“the beautiful couple”) // also, Jean Alesi doing photoshop manips when Charlos fought in 2024

Carlos: “good looking couple” “we make a good couple” “most beautiful pair”

Carlos showing off his strength to Charles in that Ferrari party thing

Everything that was written in the GQ article (by Tom Lamont) as well as the photoshoot

Calling each other beautiful

Charles sharing a sandwich with Carlos

Them calling each other ‘sweetie’, ‘honey’, ‘baby’, ‘love’ // ‘like this or more, darling?’ // ‘thank you, my love’  

Bahrain 1-2

Carlos checking in on Charles before his post-race interview in Monza 22’ despite being told he had to go some other place

Ferrari era (leather & forced divorce – 2023-2024)

Football watching together (despite the fact that Charles’ said he doesn’t really follow football) // “Yes, Carlos will be really happy” – Charles after someone asked him if he watched El Clasico and Real Madrid had won that time

Paddle playing too

“Can I choose the position he needs to be in? Take off your clothes, Carlos!”

The gingerbread cookies video

“He loves me” – the whole shell challenges in Zandvoort actually

Talked about racing Le Mans

Charles being jealous of Lando

“Together or nothing. We come as a package”

Charles hiding in Carlos’ closet to surprise him for his birthday

Monza 23’ battle

The Curious Case of Charlos and Pierre Gasly’s PR accusations – During a fan forum in the Singapore GP ’23 weekend, Carlos joked that he would’ve picked Charles to be stuck with in a deserted island, saying: “You see, I would’ve picked Charles, Esteban, I like my teammate” (because Esteban had been asked the same question just before and upon being told he wasn’t allowed to pick his own teammate, Esteban jokingly went: “I wasn’t going to pick Pierre anyway”).

Pierre and Esteban Ocon had a rocky relationship as teammates in Alpine, on top of having an already complicated past together since they’ve known each other since they were kids. Nearing the end of 2023 season, after Pierre (and Esteban) had been criticized for their poor relationship, Pierre talked about friendships in the paddock in an interview and he name-dropped Carlos and Charles, claiming that people “shouldn’t think that they’re all friends”. Despite Pierre having also named Mercedes and Red Bull pairs, people seemed to only latch onto Charlos

It’s important to note that Pierre Gasly is the driver Charles is famously closest to in the whole grid (as they’ve been friends since childhood) but also, he was teammates with Carlos in Toro Rosso for two races in 2017, and is fairly one of the drivers that are close-ish to Carlos as well. In fact, Pierre sometimes hangs with both of them, too.

Puma couch picture we never got the context of

Fred: “are you still single?” Carlos: *looks at Charles* “anyway, changing subject…” – DTS S06E08 // (Sidenote: theres some joking that Charles’ current girlfriend, Alexandra Saint Mleux, and Carlos’ current girlfriend, Rebecca Donaldson, seem to have a slight resemblance to Carlos and Charles, respectively (and the girls also seem to get along quite well))

New York event

Charles timing Carlos’ laps

“I want to give this to you, so you remember me for the rest of your life. For our post teammate era” // “You’re going to leave it there” “No, I won’t" – Carlos gifting him a chili plushie.

“Tell Charles to come close to me and we celebrate this one together” – Australia 24’

China Sprint 24’ incident: “He’s fighting me harder than the rest” // “A kiss on the mouth, everything okay”

Spanish reporter calling them roommates

Insane sim racing videos (almost all of them have some degree of craziness but specially Saudi Arabia, Austria, Dutch, Monza, COTA, Brazil)

Both of them thinking about their morning wood live on camera… then Carlos knowing Charles’ a sleepy guy

Miami merch promo video being cut just right as Carlos seems to go for Charles’ face

“We go from hating each other to loving each other real quick” – actually, that whole motorsport interview for Miami was awesome

Spain 24' inchident - Charles: “He was trying to do something extraordinary because it’s his home race and important moment in his career” // Carlos: “It’s too many times he complains about something”

“Charles and I have one or two ding-dongs a year”

“We look at each other and we smiled like we’re used to” // “We look at each other in the eyes and we understand immediately”

Gladiator II premiere

“Complicate me. Complicate my life, like you always do”

Charles letting Carlos drive his Ferrari in Monaco and show Carlos Sr

“I wanna smash you”

Carlos grabbing Charles’ balls in Mexico 24’

“You should try the chilli crab … I am the chilli crab”

“Try in Spanish” – Charles post Vegas 24’

“Carlos is not my girlfriend, I’m not gonna miss him like crazy”

“I would listen to you for hours”

Abu Dhabi 24’ radio: “it hurts a lot… I really wish we could’ve won it also for the last season with Carlos”

Charles goodbye to Carlos: “Now, I can call him a friend outside of racing” // Charles calling him 'chilli' in IG post (Carlos' said his personal friends call him chilli)

“I wouldn’t be the driver I am today if he hadn’t been my teammate”

“I was happy with Charles. I would’ve continued with Leclerc for life”

“Amazing four years fighting for Ferrari” — Carlos on IG

Fred: “I have never in all my time of racing seen two teammates so intensely preoccupied with what the other one is doing”

Charles being in Fiorano for Carlos’ last farewell with his father driving a Formula 1

Timeless traditions/Uncategorized info

Starting almost all videos with: “Helloooo” “hola”

“Are you ready?” “I’m always ready, Carlos”

Zero concept of personal space

Charles often looks smaller than Carlos despite actually being taller

Hand size difference

Yapper & Yapper

Carlos’ love language is physical violence

Carlos –a self-proclaimed butt guy— often taps Charles’ butt

They had 9 podiums and three 1-2s

They had 90 races together and never crashed

They’re each other’s longest teammates as of date

[solifloris]

≡;-꒰ 𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐀𝐇 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖

╰┈➤ ❝ jeremiah x afab!reader | VALENTINE'S EVENT !

tags : fluff, established relationship, use of pet names "baby" and "princess". no content warnings!

wc : 1.2k

an : requested by @xavissky !!!!! always happy to write a miah for you madi hehe <3 go get ur man 😌✨

taglist : under the cut! (SIGN UP HERE)

ko-fi jar / commissions

Plans for a valentine's date fall through, but at the end of the day, spending an evening by his side is everything you could wish for.

Ding!

A shuffle at the door.

"Shit— uh—! Just a sec!"

Your weight shifted from one foot to the other, and a little smile formed on your lips. All at even the mere sound of his voice. There was something amusing about the situation, and you couldn't for the life of you imagine what he was doing back there—but you glanced at your watch, and you supposed that it couldn't be helped. You were a little earlier than scheduled.

You adjusted the strap of your bag as you waited, and the door opened to reveal a Jeremiah that was a little bit out of breath.

"Hey! You're early?!"

Your eyebrows raised, trying to peek into the space behind him.

"What've you been up to?" you stepped closer, another attempt to see for yourself—only for him to step directly in front of you.

"'Miah!"

"What? No greeting, princess?"

He grinned as he scooped you up into his arms, effectively twirling you around. A bout of laughter fell from your lips that you could tell he cherished, and he leaned in to leave a little peck on the tip of your nose.

"Heyyy, hey! What's with all the affection suddenly!" Your feet touched the ground again, and you reached up to ruffle those little curls on his head that you'd always adored.

And this wasn't even supposed to be much.

You'd come from a long day of work, and the both of you had been busy… things just ended up that way. Even now, with another glance at the clock, it was well past ten in the evening, and the two of you had made it clear that you could both just have a simple little dinner and call it a night.

Fondly, you ran your fingers through his hair, and watched him lean into your touch.

A moment passed.

Quiet, serene, simple… But when it was with him, it always meant more than the world to you.

"So, what have you been up to, 'Miah?" You smiled as you took his hands in yours, simultaneously leaning back a little to try and scan the room. Nothing immediately caught your eye, but you turned curiously back to him, anyway. "Babe, don't tell me you got something for me… We promised!"

"Hey, hey, I know, I know! Just—it's nothing extreme, I promise."

"'Miah!"

"Baby, but it's Valentine's day! I-I couldn't— not—"

"But then I'll feel bad for not getting you anything—"

"Shhhhhhhhh."

He pulled you close again, placing a little kiss into your hair.

"I know, baby, I'm sorry. You don't have give me anything, okay? I just want to spoil you a bit! Look—you can make it up to me tomorrow of you need to, or… Or, you can be in charge of whatever we do today, or something. Just, I want to do my part, and show you how much I love you, in my own way…"

Your lips pursed, and for all of that adorable pleading gaze adorning his features, you could try to be upset with him. But you could never deny being spoiled by him, in the end.

Relenting, you offered a light punch to his shoulder, and shook your head. "Okay, okay. You win this time!" Your gaze softened. "Just… Sorry, yeah? I'm partly to blame for the reason we couldn't go out, I know it was supposed to be our date night…"

He smiled. "I only wanted to spend time with you. And that's what I'm doing now, right? No sorry's needed, princess."

And with the way that he said it, you felt that there was more to it. More to… whatever it is that he'd prepared for you.

Knowing Jeremiah, knowing how much he knew you, in the first place… It really was in his nature to want to spoil you, and you might as well have expected it. In truth, it wasn't even that you minded. You felt light in your footsteps as he tugged your hand and had you follow him into the kitchen, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you were grateful to have someone who never failed to make you feel more loved than you ever thought it was possible to feel.

The oven dinged right as you walked through the door, and that very familiar, very welcome smell of freshly-baked cupcakes surrounded you both. It was a wonder that you'd been so distracted by him, that you hadn't noticed the baing smell just earlier.

"Jeremiah…!" you gasped. You could have run over yourself if he hadn't beat you to it, flashing you both a wink and a knowing sort of look as he brought the tray out of the oven.

Strawberries.

Your favorite.

"You really, really shouldn't have…"

Slow steps towards him had him setting the tray down to cool, and it was almost as if he'd read your mind—nevermind that he'd had you in his arms mere moments ago, he was glad to pull you in again, and you could see the fondness glimmering in his eyes so clearly.

So full of love.

So full of adoration.

"Oh, I shouldn't have," he laughed quietly, brushing a few strands of hair from your face, "but I sure as hell wanted to. We're going to make the absolute best of this evening, I promise you. Maybe… one cupcake at a time."

For a moment you both stayed like this, just the soft caresses of his thumb and the love shared between the two of you that needed no words to be said. Because that was how it was with him.

"You're so silly," you murmured. "Silly, and sometimes infuriating, and sometimes adorable… And you're so sweet. You make everything sweet. Hell—did you know? Even honey feels sweeter with you. And cherries, and berries… Strawberries…"

"You think? Do go on!"

The grin on his face was contagious, and you stuck your tongue out playfully before giving him a shove. "See, there's the little infuriatingly adorable part of you."

"Haha! You love me!"

And your eyes softened.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Perhaps, through all the things that he does, has done, has been doing for you—you've always stopped to wonder if what you've been doing was enough to repay him. But the mistake in that was that it was never about repaying… and why would it be? This wasn't transactional.

He was just—him.

Just Jeremiah.

Quite literally, the love of your life, and the very person who'd just spent, maybe the past half hour or so baking you cupcakes.

He was right—this was just the way he showed his love to you, not because he expected anything in return, but because he wanted to. And it was the same with you, wasn't it? Perhaps you couldn't always live up to the extravagancy he does sometimes, but you didn't love him because you had to—you loved him because you wanted to.

Despite that little promise you'd made to yourselves about not getting each other Valentine's gifts this year… You realized that something like that was impossible.

Because it was impossible to go a day without loving him—and him without loving you.

It was a gift enough.

And you repeated it.

"I love you."

Like just an agreement wasn't enough; like you had to say it directly.

Louder.

Clearer.

"I love you."

On your tiptoes, you leaned up to give him a little kiss.

"Happy Valentine's day, 'Miah."

And as his arms snaked around your waist to draw you closer, to feel your presence a little more—

The mundane was never mundane with him. And there was no other place you'd rather be.

taglist: @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @pepprrmint @angel-jupiter @cordidy @raiyuxa @spotted-salamander @hunters-association @pixelcafe-network

© solifloris. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[staticscreenwriting]

I took the good times, I'll take the bad times II Joel Miller

Summary: Joel doesn't think he's deserving of love after all he did and all he went trough. Or maybe he's just scared. Either way he can't let himself fall for (Y/N). Now if only she'd stop sending him those damn postcards.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (I always try not to describe the reader physically, if I missed something please let me know so I can change it and make this "applicable" to every reader. Thank you!)

A/N: This is my entry for the dear-uary challenge by @jolapeno . My prompt was "Character A keeps finding X and traces them back to Character B, who might be leaving them intentionally—or not." And I chose Postcards as my form of epistolary.

TW: This is mostly angsty fluff. There is some talk of self doubt and loss of a child but I think that should be it.

Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.

It all starts with a simple postcard tucked into the side pocket of his bag. Joel almost doesn’t realize it’s there, folded twice into a tiny square. It’s only when he’s looking for the list Maria gave him of all the things to look for on this run, that he grabs a hold of the card. 

His gloves make it hard to unfold the small paper but it’s way too cold to take them off. Joel was never big on winter and snow, even before everything went to shit. He doesn’t like the way it lingers, the way it consumes you from the inside out. Now, an unforgiving cold is all he feels as a thick blanket of snow has settled upon Wyoming. 

Bold bright letters scream out to him from the wrinkled paper “ Greetings from Tampa Florida. Wish you were here!”.

It’s one of those campy vintage ones where the letters are filled with drawings of landmarks and beaches. He remembers sending one just like this to his High School girlfriend when Dad took him and Tommy on a trip to Nashville when Joel was 16 maybe 17. It was a good trip, the last one they ever took together. Sometimes Joel wonders how his dad would deal with all of this. This new reality. This fucked up world. He always seemed so strong, so fearless. That man was unstoppable force and immovable object all at once. Every vulnerability Joel finds in himself, he’s sure was absent in his father. Maybe if he was a little more like his own dad he could’ve saved Sarah, could’ve spared Ellie the pain of living in this limbo of knowing and not knowing. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Joel moves closer to the fire, his only light source other than the stars. There’s writing on the back, blue ink on off-white paper. It’s not a handwriting he knows and for a second he wonders if the card has been there ever since he found the bag years ago, back in Boston. But he would know that, right? Would've found it by now. This must be new. This must be meant for him.

“ I know you hate the cold. I know it makes you sad and gloomy, well gloomier than usual. So let me tell you about the hottest day I ever experienced. I was a kid, maybe 7 or 8 and my mom took me to Florida. Not Tampa (it was the only postcard I could find at the library), but Orlando. We went to fucking Disney World!! We didn’t have a lot of money back then so mom must’ve saved a long time for this. Anyway, Joel, it was so hot. Unbearably hot. My clothes stuck to my skin and my hair got all frizzy. Maybe July wasn’t the best time to go. The air was so thick and heavy, so moist (ew). It felt like breathing in honey, syrup maybe. I still had the best time. I know it doesn’t take away the cold but I hope I can take you away to that hot and humid Florida summer for one small moment. If not, there’s a wool scarf at the bottom of your bag. Made it myself. You never told me what your favorite color is. I hope you like blue. xx 

P.S.: I wonder what happened to Disney World.” 

A chuckle falls from Joel’s lips and forms a cloud against the sharp winter air. He's never been to Disney World. The Millers just weren’t a Disney World kind of family. They were more of a local fair kind of family. All corn dogs and funnel cakes and first kisses behind the bumper cars. Sarah would’ve loved Disney World though. Ellie too. Ellie who doesn’t even know what the hell Disney is. 14 years and the girl has no idea who Mickey Mouse is. What a surreal thought. What a strange world. More than 20 years and it still feels strange. Joel wonders if life will ever let him settle in this new reality. If one day this feels like home and not a bad dream. Not a cosmic punishment. A bad joke that no one’s laughing at anymore.

His eyes travel back towards the blue swirly writing. It’s not Ellie’s bad chicken scratch, he could pick that out of a line-up any day. This looks much neater, more deliberate, and thoughtful. 

“There’s a wool scarf at the bottom of your bag.”

Quiet, as not to wake up the others sleeping just a few steps away, Joel opens the zipper on his bag and rummages through it with a gloved hand. There’s a bunch of stuff in there, food rations, ammunition, a second pair of gloves. Going on supply runs is not something Joel enjoys but it is a way for him to give back. To Tommy and Maria and the entire community. Jackson and its people have taken him and Ellie in as one of their own without much hesitation. They provided them with food, with shelter, with trust. He has so little to give in return. Going on a supply run to look for medicine and other necessities, that’s the least he can do. 

Something soft and squishy meets his hand and he pulls out a dark blue woolen scarf. There are so many holes and even in the dim light of the campfire, Joel can tell those holes are not there on purpose. Maybe it was Ellie after all, but then she never showed any interest in knitting, and the idea of her doing just that is far too ridiculous. No matter how imperfect it is though, Joel has to admit the scarf does make him feel warmer as he wraps it around his neck. 

“Hey,” Adam, one of the other guys on the run, speaks up from beside Joel, “you can catch some sleep if you want. I can take over the watch.” 

It’s a strange thing, how sometimes you don’t notice just how tired you are or how hungry you are until someone points it out to you. Until they offer to take it from you. Then it hits you like a brick to the face. A wave pulling you under. 

Joel feels his eyelids grow heavy and nods at the younger man. "Thanks". 

This mystery, it can wait until tomorrow. Until then he will bury his face in the warm soft wool of the scarf and think of that Florida sun. And though it most definitely is just his imagination, Joel could almost swear the night feels a little less cold.

His boots leave deep imprints in the white icy blanket as he makes his way past the Tipsy Bison and the community hall further towards his house. His home. 

No place has really felt like home in years. Not since all of this started. Everything was temporary. 4 walls and a roof. He wonders if this place will ever start feeling like home? Will he ever get to a point where he doesn’t wait for the second shoe to drop? It all feels like he’s Charlie Brown and life is Lucy pulling the football away at the last second. And it always ends with him falling. He’s so tired of falling. So tired of getting back up.

Joel almost expects the house to be silent as he steps inside. Ellie is slowly making friends with the other teens living in the settlement and is spending more time at their houses than she is at home. He can’t blame her. If he was more like his father he’d find it in himself to start conversations with people, get to know them, forge connections, make friends. Of the Miller boys, Tommy is the one who inherited their dad’s social gene though, Joel only got the snarl and the crippling inability to talk about his feelings.

Laughter echoes through the house as Joel rounds the corner connecting the entryway to the living room. Ellie’s laughter, loud and bright and light. As if for a moment all the horrors and the pain and the trauma have been taken from her.

When he steps into the kitchen, Joel understands. 

(Y/N) is standing by the counter, a smile on her face so soft and radiant it might just rival the sun. That joy she brings out in Ellie, it’s familiar to Joel because he feels it too whenever (Y/N) is around. Not always but sometimes. It’s a spark of warmth that starts in his chest and crawls up his spine. It settles in his lungs, his heart, his brain. Like a parasite. Like a virus. Like a wonderful dream. He doesn’t allow himself to feel it all the time but sometimes, sometimes he can’t deny himself this little bit of warmth.

Joel can’t even remember when exactly (Y/N) became a part of their life. It’s like one day she was there and refused to leave. And really that’s kind of how it went. She works at the library and the school, lives across the street from him and Ellie and for some reason, she’s taken pity on them. Joel isn’t sure if it's him or Ellie she pities. Maybe a mix of both. Either way, she brought over some soup one day and that’s the beginning and end of it all. She’s wormed her way into Ellie’s heart and by extension his too. Whether he likes to admit it or not. Doesn't hurt that she's so damn beautiful too.

“Joel, you’re back!” 

Ellie pulls him in a tight hug. It’s something Joel still has to get used to. Ellie isn’t a particularly affectionate person. She’s definitely not a hugger. And neither is Joel — not anymore at least. So when they do hug, it’s still a little strange. Not bad strange just unfamiliar. 

“Yeah, I’m back. 

“How did it go?” (Y/N) asks and meets his eyes over Ellie’s head. A silent conversation happening between her and Joel. It’s that thing she does where she doesn’t need to say a single word but Joel can tell exactly what she’s thinking just by the look in her eyes. He sometimes wonders if this is a them thing. 

“Did someone die” her eyes are saying. “Did someone get hurt?” 

“Did you get hurt?” 

He quickly shakes his head answering her unspoken questions. Not this time. 

“Good. It went good.” 

Maybe the relieved sigh he sees her let out is just his imagination. But Joel doesn’t think so. Joel thinks it's very real.

“Did you bring us something? “ 

He can’t help but smile at that. It feels good to smile. In a world that gives you grief and sorrow, you start to count the moments when it gives you a reason to smile. They are few and far between but the number has surely increased since Ellie stepped into his life — and since (Y/N) did. 

“I brought food and medicine. Isn’t that enough? “

A determined “no” falls from both their lips in a chaotic harmony. 

“Geez, you guys are demanding.” 

“Well — did you bring us something?” 

Joel just rolls his eyes and rummages through his bag for the goods. 

“For you— “ he says and throws the old wrinkled comic book towards Ellie who regards it with that endless sense of wonder she does possess. It’s the kind of spark that flickers and dies once you grow old. Or maybe just his did. Maybe grief leaves no room for wonder. 

Placing his bag on the ground, Joel moves into the kitchen and holds out his loot to (Y/N). Green background. White goats. Yellow bubble letters.

“Oooooh, you did get me something. Pet Sounds, nice!” 

There’s a spark in her too. Dulled and dusted from time but it is there and it flickers and grows every time Joel brings her a vinyl record from his trips outside of the settlement. In a world with so little joy, music seems to be one of the few things that hasn’t changed. In the face of immeasurable pain, humans turn to music. They have done so for a long time and judging by the world as is, they always will. 

“I hope it works still. Didn’t really have a record player to try it out.” 

“I’ll try it out as soon as I get to the library. Feel free to come by and listen with me.” 

“Sure.” 

“Thank you, Joel. I hope you didn’t have to do anything stupid to get this.” 

He didn’t. Not this time. He would’ve though. It scares him how willing he is to put himself in danger just to get her something that will put that radiant smile on her face. He’d walk to the end of the earth if he knew there was a record there she wanted. That thought scares the shit out of him. It’s bad enough he cares so deeply about Ellie, about Tommy. The more people you care about, the more you open yourself up to hurt. Losing either of them would tear him apart. Joel is not sure he can handle opening his heart to yet another person no matter how much his heart wants just that. 

“ Nah. No issues.” 

“Good.” 

She just looks at him for a moment. All soft eyes and gentle smile. There must be something she sees in him, Joel thinks, something he doesn’t see. A version of himself that he isn’t, that he will never be. A version he once was, maybe. A version he so desperately wishes he could be. For her.

“Well,” (Y/N) says and snaps him out of her enchantment “Ellie and I made some stew. I know you must’ve been freezing outside, some good warm stew might help warm you up a little.” 

“It smells great.” 

“You have impeccable timing because we just got done. So, dig in. And uh — I guess I’ll see you guys at the movie screening?” 

He doesn’t want her to leave. The devil and the angel on his shoulders are both screaming at him to ask her to stay. And if he was any stronger a man, any more like his own father and more deserving of good things, he would ask her. To stay for dinner. To stay forever.

But he isn’t. And he doesn’t ask. Just watches as she wraps a scarf around her neck and slips into the thick jacket that's a few sizes too big on her.

“I left the recipe by the fridge. Just in case you ever want to cook it yourself.” 

“Thanks.” 

And he really is grateful. For her. For everything.

“Oh Joel,” she says and stops in the doorway. “I like that scarf. Blue looks really good on you.” 

And then she’s gone, swallowed by the cold winter air. 

Joel hasn’t thought about his favorite color in forever. It’s something you stop thinking about once you start growing hair on your chest and fantasizing about girls in a way you haven’t before. Kids talk about their favorite colors all the time. Sarah did. It’s just once you grow old you lose that sense of self, define yourself through different things. 

Looking at the scarf now, all holes and imperfections, there is no doubt in his mind that his favorite color is blue. 

“Have you ever been to Paris?” 

The lights are dimmed in the big community hall, the movie playing on screen providing the only source of light as the people of Jackson have gathered for another movie night. 

A glimpse into a world that was but no longer is and never will be again. And for some of them, like Ellie, a world that never was to begin with.

Ellie is sitting in the front with some of the other teens, her friends, Joel supposes. She has friends now.

“Joel, have you?” 

A soft hand rests on his arm, shaking him from his gloomy thoughts. (Y/N) sits next to him, eyes focused on the pictures dancing across the screen. Ilsa and Rick, falling in love over and over again in Paris. The beginning of a love story doomed from the start. 

“I uh — no. Never.” 

“Me neither. I would’ve loved to go though. It looks beautiful.” 

He doesn’t know why or how it happens but the words just flow from his mouth like a waterfall. For the first time in a while, he finds himself wanting to talk more. About the past. About Sarah.

“My daughter, Sarah, went to Paris once. Some school exchange program. They don’t usually do it until later but her French class was above average and I guess they won some contest. I don’t know it was a long time ago.” 

“Sounds like she was a smart cookie.” 

"Oh, she was. Too smart for me, that’s for sure. Was hard letting her leave and fly to a whole different continent though. I was scared out of my mind until she was back home. Drove Tommy crazy for a whole damn week.” 

(Y/N) turns her face away from the screen and regards him with that infinite sense of something more. Soft and endearing. If he was a different man he would call it love. He would see the way she looks at him and he would kiss her stupid and life would be all sweet dreams and gentle touches. 

But he is the man he is. Not worthy of whatever she is willing to give.

“What’re looking at me like that for?” 

“It’s just sweet how much you care. About everyone. I think you don’t even know you’re doing it half the time.” 

“Do what?” 

“Care for others. For Ellie and me and all of us. You’re a good man, Joel Miller. I just wish you’d let someone take care of you for a change.” 

He doesn’t need to be taken care of. He can do it all on his own. And anyway, he is not as good of a man as she thinks he is. Good men don’t have the blood of their loved ones stuck to their hands. Good men don’t let their daughters die in their arms. Good men don’t kill. Good men don’t do all the things he did. 

Joel doesn’t want to be a good man. He just wishes he was good enough a man to allow himself to be with (Y/N).

“I ain’t a good man. And I don’t need someone to take care of me.” 

“You wore that scarf, did you not? You allowed me to take care of you then.” 

That damn scarf. He had a hunch it was her. The handwriting on the postcard matched the one of the recipe stuck to his fridge an awful lot. But it’s something else entirely to hear her say it outright. 

“That was you, huh? Had an awful lot of holes that thing.” 

“Hey, I never said I was good at knitting. You wore it anyway.”

Joel turns back towards the screen as Rick and Ilsa share a loving kiss. 

“Yeah, I wore it anyway.” 

And to the sound of bombs and tanks, (Y/N) rests her head on his shoulder.

That’s what you do for the people you love. Even if you don’t allow yourself to love them.

You wear the scarf anyway.

The mailbox flag is up. Bright red against the sharp white of the winter's day. 

It’s never been up. People around here don’t get mail. It’s but an ancient relic of a life they used to live. Remnants of a society long gone. 

But Joel is nothing if not curious. So he stomps up to the mailbox, leaving deep imprints in the freshly fallen snow. 

It’s another postcard. Only this time it doesn’t come with a mystery. This time it comes with that silly little feeling that makes his heart beat just a little faster. That makes his head swirl with stupid thoughts of stupid dreams.

“From Paris with love,” it says on the front. Fucking Paris, of course.

Sometimes the way he feels about her is infuriating, confusing, scary.

And sometimes, like right now, it feels like a ball of warmth settles in his ribcage and warms him from the inside out.

“Dear Joel,

We’ll never have Paris. Not in this life at least. And while I would’ve loved to see the Eiffel Tower sparkle with you and make you eat a croissant (which you would’ve pretended to hate but I think you would’ve enjoyed it secretly), I am glad to get this life with you at least. Or alongside you. Whatever it is we are, I am glad this life gave me that in between all the pain. Despite what you like to tell yourself, Joel Miller, you are a spark of fire, a light in the dark. You are more than the sum of your failures, you are more than your pain. All the good that is in you, that counts. That’s all that matters in the end. And there is so much good in you.

I wish you’d let yourself see it. 

We will never have Paris. But we’ll always have Jackson and that is enough for me. I hope it’s enough for you.

Here’s looking at you kid! ;) “

There’s a tragedy in knowing someone else sees all your good parts and none of the bad. A tragedy in knowing how much they like those good parts and being awfully aware that seeing all the bad parts would destroy them. 

A tragedy in still wanting to show them all of you, even the ugly soul-destroying parts.

But if she thinks he’s a good man, then Joel needs to be just that. A good man who keeps those ugly parts hidden and away from her. Even if that means denying himself the one thing he wants. 

“What’s that?” Ellie speaks up from beside him, a curious look on her face.

“Postcard.” 

“Like what people would send from vacations and stuff?”

“Yeah, how do you know about that?” 

She rolls his eyes at him and it’s one of those moments where he feels like a dad again. Those little moments that mean the world to him because he gets to feel like the old him. The Joel he thought was long dead and buried beside the bones of his own child.

“I watch movies? I talk to people? I read books? Take your pick.” 

“Wow, when did you become such a smartass, huh?” 

She shrugs his shoulders at him “Was born that way. Nothing I can do about it.” 

“Unfortunately.” 

“Hey, you’ve grown to love me! You wouldn’t want me any other way.” 

And she isn’t wrong. Ellie, with all her curiosity and her bravery and her lust for life, whatever that life may look like, is exactly what he needed. Which makes him wonder if saving her from the fireflies was ultimately more of a selfish act than that of a heroic savior. 

“Who’s it from?” 

“None of your business.” 

“Oh, so (Y/N).” 

His eyes flick up and he is met with that satisfied, mischievous grin that is so uniquely Ellie.

“What makes you think that?” 

“You always change the subject when I bring her up. And that way you just jumped when I mentioned her? Yeah, you’re not slick, old man.” 

“Hey! Who are you calling an old man?” 

“You! Old and scared!” 

“I’m not scared!” 

Like hell he is. Terrified even. But there ain’t no way in hell he’ll admit that to Ellie. She’ll never let him hear the end of it. 

“Then go talk to her! She likes you, you like her. Why do you have to make it so complicated?” 

If only she knew all the ghosts swirling around inside of him threatening to break free. Things could be so easy. Only nothing ever is.

“Mind your own business, kid! Anyway, don't you have someplace to be? Think Dina came by earlier asking for you. You two are getting along well, huh?” 

“Aaaand on that note. See you for dinner, old man!” 

She’s gone before he can even hurl a reply at her. It pulls his lips into a smile. There’s no better way to get a teen to shut up than to bring up their crush. Nice to see that some things never change.

Another run. Another record. 

Joel feels silly, standing here in front of her door with his heart beating fast and heavy as he clutches the vinyl record in his hand. 

If Ellie saw him now, she’d surely make fun of him. Tommy too. Sarah even. 

What happened, Joel? You used to be so brave. What makes you so afraid now? 

Life, he thinks. Life has made him scared and bitter and sad. 

“Did you wanna knock or — ?” 

Joel turns around as the voice calls out to him. There it is again, that softness, that smile. 

“Uh, yes.” 

“Okay, good. Did you come to see me? Sorry, I was helping Maria at the farm.” 

“Yeah no uh — don’t worry about it. I just came to drop this off” 

Her eyes grow wide as she catches sight of which record it is he’s holding up. 

“No way! The stranger! You found it.” 

“ I did.” 

He had to clear an old dilapidated bar full of clickers to get that record. Almost lost his damn arm in the process. But her smile, that god-damn, life-ruining, world-shattering, heart-beat-faster, smile of hers makes it all worth it. He would give both arms, all of him. He would give it all to see her smile.

“Do you wanna come in and listen to it with me? Got my player fixed so I don’t have to use the one at the library anymore.” 

Say no. Just say no and go home. Be a good man! Be a better man! 

But he’s not. For this one moment, he can’t be that man. He’s just as weak as the rest of them. 

“Sure.” 

This feels so — normal. So before everything. Different and twisted and warped. But normal.

It’s scary and comforting all at once. Like a tipsy dream when you know you’ll wake up with a headache for sure.

(Y/N) is twirling around her living room, a beer in hand and a smile on her face. Joel leans against the door connecting her living room and her kitchen and all he can do is stare. At this woman who means so much to him. Too much for him to ever put into words. If he even knew how to. He’s never been a poet. 

“I said I love you, that's forever

And this I promise from the heart, mmm

I couldn't love you any better

I love you just the way you are, right”

“I love this song. Can you imagine someone loving you enough to write something like this about you?” 

Yes, he thinks. If only he WAS a poet. He would write a hundred songs. A thousand. And all of them would talk of her smile and her eyes and the way there is no single thing about her he would change. 

But words fail him. They always do. 

So he just nods.

“Joel,” she says and moves closer. The bottle of beer now placed on her couch table, her hands find his chest. So warm. So soft. And all he does is stare. 

“I know you got my postcards. I know you know how I feel. And sometimes I think you feel the same. I see the way you look at me. I know the dangers you put yourself in to get me those records. I just — you never say anything. So am I making a fool of myself here? Please tell me if I — “ 

“You’re not.” 

Wow, so eloquent. 

“I’m not?” 

Her voice sounds so small. So unsure. He hates that he’s the one who put the uncertainty there. Be a better man, Joel! Be a good man for once! 

But all he does is stare. Words fail him. Again. again. again.

“Then can I — can I do this?” 

(Y/N)’s gaze falls to his lips then back up to his eyes. She is so close. He can feel her warm breath on his skin. Can smell the scent of her shampoo. Notices the tremble of her fingers as her hands rest on his chest.

And he wants to kiss her. Every version of him that ever was and ever will be wants to kiss her. But all he does is stare.

All he does is stare and pull away.

And it breaks his heart to see hers break in that moment. 

“I uh — oh I’m sorry Joel.”

Tears gather in her eyes, fill them with sorrow, fill his heart with rage. He can’t do anything right, can he? Everyone he’s ever loved, he’s disappointed. But how can he let himself love her, how can he let her love him, when he is so broken? When all he does is break things?  Taint them with this infinite sadness that lives and grows inside his bones? 

“It’s not you.” 

“Oh please, Joel. I made a fool of myself already. Don’t make it worse.” 

“I ain’t trying to. It just ain’t you. It’s all me. It’s always been me”

His palms are sweaty and he feels like someone has reached into his ribcage, cracked every rib on the way to his heart, and ripped it out with bare hands. Snapping veins and arteries and all.

“I want you. I want this but I can’t have it. You think I’m a good man but the truth is, I am not. I do bad things all the time, over and over again and time and life have made me so numb to it. But you, you are so good. You deserve someone better. Someone whole.”

It’s like once he’s started it all comes flowing out like a fucking waterfall. All his fears and insecurities and pain. It’s all there for her to be disgusted by. Because god knows there is no way she won’t be. He is. All the time.

“I have not been the same since this all started. Since Sarah — since she died. I live with this immense grief. It surrounds me. It IS me. All of me. And I so desperately want to claw my way out of it. Rip it apart and leave it behind. But at the same time, I want to bury myself in it. Because what if I do leave it behind and I start to forget? Her and all that she was? How is it fair that I have to remember her far longer than I got to know her? So if I get better, if I become the man I need to be to be worthy of your love, am I still gonna be the man she knew? Can I still remember? Because that is all I have. And that is not a burden I can put on you. Not you and not Ellie.”

Joel takes a breath then another but it does little to calm him down.

“You two mean everything to me and I am sorry I am bad at showing it. That I can’t say it. I need you to know, it’s all me that’s the problem. It was never you. I’m sorry.” 

He doesn’t wait for her to say anything. He doesn’t think he has the heart to hear a reply anyway. It’s like he just ripped himself open and spilled all his guts, his heart, his lungs, and all his inside out on her living room floor. 

If he was any better of a man he’d pick them up and try to rearrange them.

But he is not a good man. Maybe he never was.

“There was something for you in the mailbox” Ellie exclaims and slumps down on the couch next to him. “I was this close to opening it but I didn’t want to make you even more grumpy than you already are.” 

“I’m not grumpy” 

He has to admit, the tone in which he said those words does not do much to counter her point. Ellie knows too, judging by the way she raises her eyebrow “Sure, you’re not.” 

She drops a sunflower yellow envelope on his lap. ‘Joel’, it says in that swirly handwriting he’s become so familiar with.

It’s been a few weeks since he’s seen (Y/N). Since he spilled all his sorrows and worries to her and then ran. And, surprisingly, Jackson makes it very easy for someone to avoid another person if you only try hard enough.

Maybe Ellie has a point, maybe he has been exceptionally grumpy lately. No correlation to any recent events though. Absolutely zero.

“Sooo are you gonna open it?”

Ellie looks at him with curiosity and that little spark of mischief as if she knows something he doesn’t. 

“Not with you watching over my shoulder, I ain’t.” 

“Why?” 

“Cause it’s none of your business.” 

“Excuse me? I have to live with your grumpy ass because you guys can’t get your shit straight. I think it very much is my business.” 

“Jesus, Ellie. Language!" 

“Sorry,” she says and gives him that pseudo-sheepish look he’s grown familiar with. “You guys need to get your stuff straight.” 

He used to scold her for it but really, he isn’t one to talk. 

“Anywayyyyy, I’ll go stay at Dina’s tonight … just in case you decide to go over and apologize for whatever it is you did and you guys finally sort it out and need some privacy later.” 

“Why do you think I did something?” 

And there it is again that sassy eyebrow raise. The same one he’s seen on Sarah so many times before. It truly is a woman’s world and he’s but a fool living in it. And they let no opportunity pass to remind him of just that.

They are also absolutely right.

“My lawyer advised me not to answer that question. Anyway, be nice. Have fun. Byyyye” 

Her voice trails off as she grabs her bag and rushes outside leaving Joel alone in this big empty house with nothing but his demons and this mysterious envelope.

Carefully he opens the seal and shakes out the contents. A postcard, a photo, and a — cassette tape? 

His eyes find the photo first. It’s a polaroid of him and Ellie and (Y/N). All 3 of them smiling, yes even him. He remembers that day back last summer. It was one of those warm but not yet hot days. (Y/N) was wearing that agonizingly beautiful red sundress. The one that made his heart beat twice as fast. She brought over a whole basket full of cherries from the tree in her garden. A pie too. And that damn Polaroid camera. 

Of course, Ellie was enamored by it, wasted almost the whole damn film. 

“Come on Joel, let's take a picture together,” she had called out to him and pulled him to sit down next to her and (Y/N) on the blanket they had placed on the lawn. 

“I’m not a picture guy,” he had grumbled, “ ain’t nobody want to see my old mug.” 

“Oh shut up. Joel, you are so handsome, don’t even pretend like you don’t know that.” 

It was the first time (Y/N) had ever called him handsome. It was hard for him to believe it then, hell it still is. But she has done it a lot more since then. Calls him handsome and gorgeous and pretty all the time. At first, he thought she was just humoring him but slowly but surely it dawned on him that she meant it. Means it still.

“We don’t know how many good sunny days we have left. Ain’t no shame in trying to remember this one, right?” 

Her eyes held so much honesty then. Vulnerability too. And gratefulness for all they had then after all they had lost. It made him smile then and it makes him smile now.

The Postcard is next, big bold letters spell out TEXAS and in the corner, there’s a drawing of the Texas State Capitol in Austin.

When he turns the Postcard over, there it is again, that swirly writing he’s grown to love so much. 

“Joel, the ‘Postcards from around the world’ book I got from the library didn’t have an Austin one but it did have a Texas one so that’ll have to do. I’m not even sure if you're going to read this. I hope you do because you didn't give me a chance to say my part when you stormed off & I think I deserve that.

You're not the man you were in Austin, you lived through the worst thing imaginable and it changed you. But you are not just your pain. It is part of you but it doesn't define you. I know you see all the bad but none of the good but believe me I see it! Ellie does! You are your pain but you are also the smile on Ellie's face when you bring her a new comic or teach her a song. You're the guitar chords echoing through the air on a warm spring afternoon. You are those fluttery feelings in my heart whenever you look at me.

Joel Miller, I understand if you don't want to be with me but if it's only because you don't think you're good enough then I think that's a choice I get to make. Taking that from me is a dick move. 

You said you're bad at showing love but you're not. You showed me through all those records. Through all those songs. Now let me love you back.”

Joel can’t quite name the feeling spreading through him. It’s both foreign and familiar at the same time. Like an old friend. A hazy memory. Pictures blurred and dulled by time and age. 

Maybe he was wrong, and he hates admitting that. Maybe he ain’t a good man but maybe that is hers to decide. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

He takes the cassette tape in his hand and squints his eyes at the tiny writing on the label. God, he really is getting old. Those eyes ain’t what they used to be.

God only knows - The Beach Boys - Pet Sounds

You’re my best friend - Queen - A Night at the Opera

Just Like Heaven - The Cure - Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me (you should!) 

In Your Eyes - Peter Gabriel - So

Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper - She’s so unusual

Your Song - Elton John - Elton John

Can’t Help Falling in Love - Elvis - Blue Hawaii

Wonderful Tonight - Eric Clapton - Slowhand

The Book of Love - The Magnetic Fields - 69 Love Songs (!!!! LOVE SONGS!!!)

Just The Way You Are - Billy Joel - The Stranger

"You gave me all these records with all these songs and all these words to tell me you love me and I’m not sure you even knew.” 

And she’s right. He got her those records because he knew they’d make her smile. Because that smile means everything to him whether he wants to admit it or not. He got those records to show her that even when he’s gone on a run, she’s always on his mind. He believed it to be a curse, a ghost haunting him for all his past mistakes and taunting him with what he shall never have.

But maybe it’s not a curse. 

Maybe it’s a blessing. A sweet song to remind him that someone back home is waiting. A gentle reminder that life can and will go on and good things can come from immense tragedy. And moving on doesn’t mean forgetting, in fact, it means remembering. Remembering the bad and believing that there can and will be good and that it’s worth it to go on. Even if you are a different you. Not worse or better, just changed. And that you deserve love. And kindness. And warmth.

Joel drops the envelope and its contents on the table and grabs his thick winter jacket as he rushes outside. The cold feels only half as bad as it nips at his skin, he barely notices. There is a fire inside him now, burning away all the doubts and hesitation. 

He’s back at her door, only this time he doesn’t wait to knock. He’s spent so much time denying himself the one thing he wants that he can’t lose just one second more. The rapping of his knuckles against her door echoes through the winter day. Oh, how he can’t wait for the spring and the summer and her in that gorgeous dress. 

“Joel?” 

Back before — everything, Joel remembers a movie night with Sarah. She got to choose and despite being an avid fan of trashy action and horror movies, that time she chose a romantic comedy. All things considered, Joel can admit that when Harry met Sally wasn’t the worst choice but he still would’ve preferred Star Wars or Terminator. 

He does remember the ending though, the grand finale. He remembers Sarah trying to wipe away tears without him noticing. And he remembers Billy Crystal’s words “When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” 

Back then he thought it was some silly, cheesy movie speak. No one feels that way, right? It’s grandiose and kitschy for the sake of movie magic.

But no, he’s sure now, that one is true. Because it’s how he feels.

“I love you!” 

That confession should come with ribbons and flowers and fireworks but it doesn’t. It comes with honesty and that is all that matters. It comes from the heart.

“Huh?” 

“I got your postcard. The photo too and the tape. And I love you.” 

“I know. Took you long enough to figure it out.” 

“I’m sorry. I — I still believe that I am not a good man and that you deserve better. But it would be selfish to punish you for my own insecurities. I love you and I want to let you love me. If you still want to, that is.” 

“Joel Miller?”

“Yeah?” 

“Please just fucking kiss me.” 

Joel remembers a lot of kisses in his lifetime. Some rushed, some clumsy. Quick kisses in secret. Long drawn-out smooches in smokey bars. Loving, fast, aggressive, and soft. 

This one is different, as cheesy as it sounds.

This kiss makes him feel like all he’s ever been and all he ever will be can live in peace with one another. This kiss makes him feel like none of it matters as long as he has her. 

She tastes like peppermint and sunshine and he’s sure he’ll never get enough of her. The feeling of her skin against his as he gently cradles her face in his hand. The soft movements on her chest as she breathes. The twitch of her lips as she smiles into the kiss.

For the first time in his life, Joel is sure that a kiss is more than a kiss. It’s a healing hand on a shattered heart. It’s a new path to a new future. It’s sunshine melting the ice from his bones.

It’s a promise to try every day and to be better and to be enough. ---

[heliosunny]

LUCKY EGG

Yandere!Adventurine x Reader

The moment the egg cracked open, you expected something simple. A creature, perhaps a loyal companion to aid you in your travels, something small, manageable. But as the smooth shell split apart, the air shimmered with a strange energy, and a shadow emerged from within.

A man.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and unfairly beautiful, he stretched as though shaking off centuries of sleep. Golden hair framed his face in wild, tousled strands, catching the light like threads of molten metal. His striking eyes, a combination of cyan and magenta, locked onto yours, vivid and sharp, filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

“Well, well.” His voice was smooth, indulgent, laced with quiet amusement. “Aren’t you lucky?”

Before you could even process what was happening, he moved. A strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into an embrace. His warmth pressed against you, a sharp contrast to the cool air of the room.

“I’m Aventurine~” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “And it looks like I’m yours.”

You knew what this was. You’d read about it before. Baby duck syndrome. The first thing a newborn creature sees, it imprints upon, forms an unbreakable bond.

You tried to step back. His arms didn’t budge.

“Aventurine” you said carefully, your voice wavering, “maybe we should-”

He chuckled, cutting you off. “There’s no need to be so stiff, treasure. You don’t have to worry.” His hand lifted, brushing strands of hair from your face. The touch was gentle. “I’ll take care of you.”

You swallowed. “That’s… not necessary.”

His smile widened. “Oh, but it is.”

“No need to be afraid” he murmured, tilting his head. “I already know everything about you.”

“What?”

His fingers trailed down your arm, slow and deliberate. “I was inside that egg for three days, listening. Watching. Learning. Every little thing about you.” His voice dropped to a whisper, almost reverent. “And now… I finally get to touch you.”

“That’s not—”

His thumb brushed over your pulse, feeling the rapid beat beneath your skin. A low hum of satisfaction rumbled in his throat.

“Excited?” He chuckled. “I can’t blame you. After all… you summoned me.”

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

You had put in the currency. You had pulled the lever. You had brought him into existence.

In his eyes, that meant one thing. You belonged to him. Panic rose in your throat, but before you could say anything else, Aventurine cupped your face between his hands, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“I’ll be good to you” he promised, his voice velvet-soft. “I’ll be everything you need. Everything you want.” His fingers pressed a little harder, just enough to make your heart hammer in warning. “And in return… you’ll be mine.”

Aventurine’s stomach growled. It was the first break in the tension since his… dramatic arrival.

His intense stare melted for a brief moment into something almost normal as he placed a hand over his stomach and huffed, looking mildly embarrassed.

You took the opportunity. If he’s hungry, then I have a reason to step away.

“I’ll cook something” you blurted out, turning toward the small kitchenette. “Why don’t you take a bath in the meantime?”

Aventurine blinked, then smiled lazily. “Taking care of me already? How sweet.”

You ignored the implication, already moving toward the ingredients you had. Not much. Barely enough for a proper meal, but you could make do.

Aventurine stretched, then smirked. “Guess I’ll take you up on that offer. But don’t miss me too much, alright?”

Oh, I won’t.

As soon as you heard the water running, you bolted. Not out the door, no, that would be reckless, but to quickly gather anything that would help. New clothes. A weapon. Supplies. An excuse to have some space from him.

The weapon shop was your first stop. If you were going to survive with him, he needed gear, something that would let him fight in the dungeons, earn his keep.

The shopkeeper eyed you as you browsed. “Buying for someone?”

You hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. He’s… new.”

That wasn’t a lie.

“Well, let’s see what he can handle.”

Aventurine arrived just as the shopkeeper was about to suggest something basic. He had changed into the spare clothes you found earlier, but they fit him loosely, still damp from his shower. His golden hair was dripping, and damn him, he still looked effortlessly elegant.

He immediately came to your side, standing just a bit too close. “You’re picking out a weapon for me?” His voice was teasing, but there was a pleased edge to it.

“It’s practical” you muttered. “If you’re staying with me, you’ll need to fight.”

“Oh? You want me to protect you?”

“That’s… not what I said.”

The shopkeeper, blissfully unaware of the tension, gestured toward a set of swords and daggers. “Here, try these.”

Aventurine barely spared them a glance. Instead, his fingers brushed over a dark-bladed dagger with intricate carvings. The moment he touched it, a faint shimmer of magic pulsed through the air.

The shopkeeper’s eyes widened. “That’s—”

Aventurine flipped the dagger in his hand, a smirk playing on his lips. “Defense magic, huh? That’s a useful trick.” He twirled the blade effortlessly before giving you a sidelong glance. “See? I can handle myself.”

You frowned. He’s skilled. More than you expected.

Still, you paid for the weapon. Better for him to have it and use it for dungeon runs than… whatever else he has in mind.

After stocking up, you both headed home, passing through the market district. That’s when Aventurine’s sharp gaze locked onto something.

A crowd.

A gambling crowd.

People were shouting excitedly, coins clinking as dice rolled.

His lips curled in amusement. “What’s this?”

You tensed. “A waste of time.”

His smirk widened. “Come on, treasure. A little gamble never hurt anyone.”

“It does when you lose all your money.”

“But what if I don’t lose?”

You exhaled sharply. “Aventurine—”

Too late. He was already striding forward.

You groaned, following reluctantly. This was a terrible idea.

The moment Aventurine placed a bet, something strange happened.

The dice always landed in his favor. Cards always turned in his favor.

People muttered, eyes narrowing. “Is he cheating?”

“Not a chance” the dealer said grimly. “I’ve been watching. He’s just… insanely lucky.”

Within minutes, Aventurine had doubled, then tripled his winnings. He turned to you, holding up a handful of winnings with a wicked grin. “See? I told you.”

You crossed your arms. “It’s dangerous to win too much.”

His eyes glowed with amusement. “Why? Afraid someone might get jealous?”

Yes. But that wasn’t the real problem. The problem was him. The way he enjoyed pushing limits.

You grabbed his wrist. “We’re leaving.”

Aventurine blinked, then smirked. “Oh? Possessive already?”

Still, he let you pull him away, even as the crowd buzzed behind you.

As you walked back home, Aventurine toyed with a golden coin between his fingers, glancing at you with unreadable intent.

“You know…” His voice was low, teasing. “Maybe I really am the luckiest man alive.”

You didn’t respond. But as he slipped his free hand into yours, holding it far too tightly, you realized something chilling: He wasn’t talking about the gambling.

You woke up to an empty room.

For a moment, panic gripped your chest. Had he left? Had he changed his mind?

But then, the glowing screen of your status interface caught your eye. Your points had skyrocketed. You blinked, staring at the numbers increasing in real-time. What the hell? The only explanation was him. He had gone out and soloed a dungeon. You exhaled, rubbing your temples.

With a sigh, you moved to the kitchen, deciding to cook breakfast while you had the chance. Whatever his reasons, he had at least earned a meal. You prepared an extra plate, leaving it on the table for him in case he returned while you were out.

You needed time to yourself.

After everything that had happened: the imprinting, the suffocating presence, the gambling spree,... You needed some space to breathe.

As you strolled through the bustling streets, you found your gaze lingering on pet owners. Dogs trotting beside their humans, birds perched on shoulders, even a few rare magical beasts following their companions. It was normal. Yet your egg had spawned a man.

Why?

Your fingers tightened around your bag. Was this normal? Was there something wrong with that machine?

By the time you returned home, you heard voices.

Aventurine’s smooth, teasing tone. And a woman’s sharp, irritated response.

He’s arguing with someone?

You stepped inside, eyes immediately locking onto the scene.

Aventurine stood near the entrance, arms crossed, expression smug. His golden hair caught the light, making him look deceptively relaxed. The woman in front of him looked less amused. She had striking violet eyes, dark robes, and an air of authority. A merchant? A guild member?

“You owe us” she hissed.

Aventurine tilted his head, all mock innocence. “Do I?”

The woman’s gaze flickered to you as you entered, lips pressing into a thin line.

“You!” she said flatly. “You’re his keeper, aren’t you?”

Before you could respond, Aventurine’s smile sharpened. “Now, now,” he murmured, stepping toward you. His hand landed firmly on your lower back, pulling you close. “There’s no need to drag my dear partner into this.”

The woman scoffed. “So you haven’t told them, huh?”

You looked between them. “Told me what?”

Aventurine sighed dramatically. “It’s nothing serious. Just a little misunderstanding.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “He cheated.”

You froze. “What?”

Aventurine chuckled. “That’s a strong accusation.”

The woman crossed her arms. “You won an unnatural amount of times. The casino wants their money back.”

You knew he was lucky. But was it really cheating?

You turned to Aventurine, watching the way his lips twitched in amusement.

“…Did you?”

He grinned. “Define cheating.”

The woman huffed. “Listen. Just return the winnings and we won’t cause trouble.”

You hadn’t touched a single coin from his gambling spree. You had no interest in dirty money, and you had told him as much.

You turned to Aventurine. “Just give it back.”

His grip on you tightened.

“I don’t think I will.”

The woman scoffed. “Typical.”

Aventurine sighed, shaking his head. “Come on, treasure. Why should I give up something I rightfully won?” His eyes glinted with amusement—and challenge. “Unless, of course, you don’t trust me?”

Before you could argue, the woman straightened. “Fine. If you won’t return it, then prove it wasn’t a fluke.”

Aventurine raised a brow. “Oh?”

She smirked. “A wager.”

His expression lit up with interest. “Now that,” he purred, “sounds fun.”

You barely resisted the urge to slam your head against the wall.

Aventurine’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “A wager, huh?”

The woman smirked, arms crossed. “That’s right. A proper gambling match. If you win, you keep the money. If you lose, you return every last coin.”

Aventurine thrived on risk, thrill, danger—this was just entertainment to him. But if the casino was challenging him, that meant they weren’t convinced his luck was natural.

You saw the way Aventurine was looking at you: expectant, testing. As if he was waiting to see if you would stop him.

“I accept.” Aventurine’s grin widened.

The woman exhaled sharply, clearly expecting this answer. “Fine. Tomorrow night. High-stakes table.”

You hated everything about this.

The woman gave you a sharp look before turning on her heel and leaving.

The moment the door shut, you rounded on Aventurine. “What the hell was that?!”

He chuckled. “Oh, treasure. Don’t look so upset.”

“You just agreed to gamble against a casino! Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?!”

He hummed, stepping closer, hands sliding into his pockets. “Dangerous? Or exciting?”

You scowled. “Aventurine!”

He caught your wrist, gently but firmly. “You doubt me.”

You hesitated.

“I don’t—” You exhaled sharply. “I don’t trust them. They wouldn’t offer this bet unless they had a plan.”

Aventurine chuckled, tugging you closer. “And yet… you’re worried about me.”

His fingers brushed over your pulse. “How sweet.”

You swallowed. “Just be careful.”

Aventurine smirked, pleased. “Of course. After all…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I wouldn’t want to leave you all alone.”

The casino was packed.

Golden lights flickered overhead, the air thick with tension and anticipation. Aventurine looked completely at ease, dressed in sleek black, looking dangerously elegant. His golden hair fell in loose waves, eyes gleaming like polished gems under the chandeliers.

You felt out of place beside him, but Aventurine didn’t let you stray. His arm remained draped around your waist, his fingers tracing small circles against your skin.

“You’re nervous” he murmured, lips dangerously close to your ear.

You stiffened. “I don’t trust this.”

He chuckled. “Then trust me.”

Before you could respond, the dealer motioned for the game to begin.

High stakes. One match. Winner takes all.

Aventurine’s smile was sharp as a knife.

The cards were dealt. Dice rolled. Coins clinked.

Aventurine played with effortless confidence.

Every turn, every call, he moved like he already knew the outcome. As if fate itself bent to his will.

The other players grew tense. Whispers spread.

A final roll. A reveal.

Aventurine leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “Well… looks like I win.”

Then the woman from before scowled. “This—this isn’t normal.”

Aventurine tilted his head. “Are you accusing me of cheating?”

The casino staff shifted, uncertain. They wanted to. But there was no evidence.

Aventurine turned to you with a pleased smile. “See, treasure? Nothing to worry about.”

You exhaled shakily.

But as you looked at the dealer—at the way his hands trembled, his expression grim, you felt a creeping sense of unease.

Because Aventurine hadn’t just won. He had shattered the game entirely. And for the first time… you wondered if his luck was something more than just chance.

The moment you both stepped into your old apartment, you knew, you couldn’t stay here anymore. Not after the casino incident. Not after the way people had started watching you both. The absurd amount of points and money Aventurine had earned made you both a target. And that was the last thing you needed.

You exhaled. “We’re moving.”

Aventurine raised a brow, lounging lazily on the couch. “Oh?”

You crossed your arms. “We have the money for a better place. It’s safer this way.”

He tilted his head, studying you. Then, slowly, a pleased smile curled on his lips.

“Protecting me, are you?”

You stiffened. “I—no. I’m protecting myself.”

Aventurine only chuckled, stretching like a satisfied cat. “Mmm. Whatever you say, treasure.”

With a new apartment secured, you had another thought.

Aventurine looked like a disaster.

Not in the way you wanted, he was still frustratingly beautiful. But his clothes were either borrowed, stolen, or just not fitting his presence.

So you dragged him to the mall.

Aventurine smirked as you sifted through outfits, your eyes sharp with concentration. “I never took you for the type to play dress-up.”

You rolled your eyes. “You stick out too much in your usual mess. If we’re moving to a nicer place, you should at least look the part.”

He hummed in amusement but let you work. And, of course, the moment he tried on anything remotely elegant—he drew attention. Women whispered. Staff fawned over him. A group of admirers even giggled near the fitting rooms, watching as he adjusted a sleek black suit.

Aventurine was dangerous in a tailored outfit—sharp lines, golden hair effortlessly styled, eyes glinting with mischief. He thrived under the attention.

You, however, had enough.

Leaving him to entertain his admirers, you slipped away to the nearest bar. You just needed one drink. One moment to breathe without him watching you so closely.

The bar was dimly lit, quiet despite the low hum of conversation. You ordered something strong, letting the burn distract you from the ever-present weight of Aventurine’s presence.

But, of course…

It didn’t last long.

A glass clinked onto the counter beside you.

“You wound me, treasure.”

You tensed.

Aventurine slid into the seat beside you, smirking. His new outfit fit him far too well, making him look even more untouchable.

“You ran off” he murmured, swirling the drink in his hand. “Were you jealous?”

You scoffed. “I just needed a break.”

He chuckled, taking a slow sip. “And yet, here you are—drinking alone.”

You didn’t reply.

Aventurine leaned in, voice dangerously soft. “What am I going to do with you, hm?”

You ignored the shiver down your spine and ordered another drink.

The world blurred.

You hadn’t meant to drink so much, but Aventurine kept pushing.

Another glass. Another toast. Another teasing smile. By the time you stumbled out of the bar, the streets swayed beneath your feet.

Aventurine, of course, was perfectly fine.

He caught you easily, holding you upright with effortless strength.

“Tsk, tsk,” he hummed, lips brushing against your ear. “Look at you. Completely at my mercy.”

You hated how warm he felt.

Aventurine sighed, lifting you into his arms without effort.

“I guess I’ll have to take care of you, won’t I?”

You barely registered the journey back.

Soft sheets. A familiar scent. The feeling of being lowered onto the bed. Aventurine’s fingers brushed your forehead, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear.

“…You shouldn’t be so reckless, treasure.”

Your vision blurred. “M’fine…”

He chuckled, low and dark. “No. You’re really not.”

You were slipping—consciousness fading.

But just before sleep took you, you felt it.

A hand on your cheek. Aventurine’s voice, barely a whisper.

“…You don’t even realize, do you?”

A slow, deliberate sigh.

“I was always meant to be yours.”

---

Visit - Lucky Egg series

[Phainon]

[meadowfics]

meet me down on polk street

cho hyun-ju x f!woc!reader

part one here - this is part two - part three here

this is a series that is based in the united states during the 1960s. after coming out as a trans woman back in south korea, hyun ju moves far away to california and has met the girl who will be the love of her life.. y/n l/n.

warnings: transphobia mentions, homophobia mentions, homophobic dialogue. racism, fears of racism, dark themes presented throughout this series (and many others). y/n is downbad for hyun ju. mature content.

your outfit in this fic is linked, its the far left outfit in the pinterest pic <3

the neon glow of the black cat bar pulsed against the san francisco night, a beacon in the dark. it was just another friday evening on polk street, and the air carried the city’s usual late-night hum.

the distant sound of car horns, laughter spilling from doorways, the occasional bark of a street vendor trying to make a last-minute sale.  

standing at the entrance to the bar, your world had narrowed to just one thing: 

the broad-shouldered man blocking your way.  

he was older, probably in his forties, with graying stubble and deep-set eyes that had seen too much. his thick arms were crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his button-up shirt rolled up to reveal a tattoo that had long since blurred with time. 

a cigarette dangled lazily from his lips, glowing as he took a slow drag, exhaling through his nose.  

the hazel eyes of his gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, before settling back on your face.  

"you an undercover?"  

your breath hitched.  

“what?”  

he gestured toward you with his cigarette, as if that explained everything. 

“you know. a cop.”  

you blinked, your brain scrambling to process the question.  

a cop?  

you glanced down at your outfit…your crisp red button-up blouse, neatly tucked into your fitted denim dress, your heels clicking neatly against the pavement. 

nothing flashy, nothing dramatic, but clean, put-together. too put-together, maybe.  

the realization settled in your stomach.  

you didn’t look like you belonged here.  

not in the way others did, with their silk shirts unbuttoned just a little too low, their smudged eyeliner, their slacks that clung a little too well.  

you were still learning what it meant to dress like yourself.  

but you were not a cop.  

you shook your head quickly. 

“no, i live down the street. that blue house over there.”  

you pointed down the street before cringing, realizing that you did not need to tell a stranger your place of residence. 

the man’s expression didn’t change from your words.  

you felt his eyes scan you again, slower this time, searching for something.  

"m’ just looking to get a drink after work," you added, keeping your voice even.  

he is still skeptical. you could see it in the way his jaw tightened, his grip shifting slightly where his arms were crossed.  

he leaned in just slightly, voice lowering.  

“this ain’t just some ordinary bar.”  

it wasn’t a warning. it was a test.�� 

you had already known that.  

you hesitated for only a second before lifting your right hand and making the gesture..a simple motion, thumb and forefinger touching in a loose circle, the rest of your fingers raised ever so slightly.  

“who said i’m not here to find a lady, sir? it's rude to assume that me, a lesbian who moved here from norfolk, virginia, is here to bust and shut this beautiful place down!”

you said lightly, smirking.

your words and your signal.its  subtle, discreet. but unmistakable.  

the man watched you for another beat.  

then, finally, he chuckled, shaking his head as he stepped aside.  

"welcome to the black cat."  

— 

the moment you stepped inside, the smell hit you first.  

alcohol, lavender, cigarette smoke…each scent layering over the other, thick and heavy in the air.  

your eyes adjusted to the dim glow of neon signs, their hues of pink, blue, and green bleeding into the room’s shadows.  

the black cat is alive.  

you tugged on your red blouse sleeves as you observed the many people in the space. 

people were pressed close together in booths, leaning into one another with conspiratorial smiles. sounds of laughter rippled through the room, rising above the clinking of ice against glass. 

at the bar, a bartender in a white dress shirt and vest moved quickly, pouring whiskey into tumblers without even looking.  

in the corner, an old jukebox flickered, its rusted edges worn from years of use.  

“paint it black” by the rolling stones crackled through the speakers, its brooding melody weaving through the air.  

on the small dance floor, couples swayed close.. all types of couples. gay men, gay women, and non binaries all moving together in slow, lazy circles, others pressing their foreheads together, lost in the music.  

men in sharp suits, some with ties loosened, stood in clusters, laughing as they passed cigarettes between them. others, more daring, wore silk blouses, their collars popped in a way that seemed both effortless and rebellious.  

near the bar, a woman leaned against the counter, her crimson lipstick perfectly in place as she stirred a drink with a single, elegant finger. 

you look at her. the woman’s beauty not slipping from your sight.

the arabics woman’s gaze flicked over you once, curious, before she turned back to the conversation she had been having with a man in a pinstripe vest.  

there was something intoxicating about it all.  

not just the whiskey in the air, or the dim lighting that made the whole room feel like something out of a dream.  

but the freedom.  

this wasn’t virginia. it wasn’t a dorm room where whispers spread like wildfire. it wasn’t your parents’ voices laced with shame.  

this was a place where people could exist as they were.  

you took a step forward, heels clicking softly against the floor.  

no one was staring at you.  

no one whispered.  

no one judged.  

well, maybe some of the white people who worried if a ‘colored’ person like you would approach them.

however, you’ve dealt with racism enough to get used to that. 

you exhaled slowly, your fingers flexing at your sides.  

this was different.  

this was something new.  

this was something you had never had before.  

just a few feet in front of you.. hyun ju had the same thoughts.  never been inside a place like this before.  

south korea has no clubs or places like this.. at least not for gay or trans people. 

hyunju’s feet before had hesitated just past the threshold as the door swung shut behind her, locking out the san francisco night. inside, the air was thick with the scent of whiskey, lavender perfume, and cigarette smoke that y/n smells too.  

she swallowed.  

hyunju had rehearsed this moment over and over in her head since arriving in the city. walking into a place like this, standing among people like her.

she's seen many trans women just like her, many women who have called her many compliments that she is too overwhelmed to handle. hyun ju was not used to the positive attention.. at least not yet.

she felt out of place.  

not because she wasn’t supposed to be here…she had earned this. she had fought for the right to exist as herself, to live openly, even if the world refused to make space for her.  

no, she felt out of place because she didn’t know how to belong.  

she tugged at the hem of her dress, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles. it was a good dress, simple and bright red, not too tight, but fitted enough that it made her feel… correct. the small flats she wore clicked against the floor as she took a slow step forward.  

back in korea, she would have never left her bathroom wearing this outfit. she always used to stick with slacks and a button up blouse.. while using her growing hair as a way to present her femininity.

the black cat bar was packed. men in pressed slacks and silk shirts sat hunched together in booths, their voices hushed yet animated. women in cat-eye makeup and bright skirts perched on barstools, sipping martinis with their legs crossed, their laughter rising above the hum of conversation.  

music played among the bar… american and english music that hyunju has never listened to before. 

the dance floor, small but lively, was full. men held men and women held women close, swaying lazily, lost in their own world.  

hyun ju exhaled, her hands tightening into fists at her sides.  

she had no idea what to do next.  

she had spent years in the special forces, learning how to analyze terrain, assess threats, read body language..

this? this was foreign territory.  

she didn’t realize she was staring until she caught someone's gaze.  

her gaze.

hyun ju felt her breath catch.  

the woman standing at the bar was unlike anyone she had ever seen before.  

your skin was rich and warm under the neon lights, the soft glow of pink and blue reflecting off your smooth cheeks. your curls framed your face perfectly, resting on the middle of your back, bouncing slightly as you shifted in your barstool seat. 

you wore a red button-up blouse tucked neatly into a fitted denim dress, the contrast against her skin making her look like something out of a painting.  

beautiful.  

hyun ju stiffened.  

she was staring. 

the woman’s eyes met hers, and for a brief moment, everything else in the bar disappeared.  

hyun ju looked away first, her pulse quickening.  

but then—  

she heard movement.  

when she looked back up, the woman was walking toward her.  

—

you weren’t sure why you moved.  

maybe it was instinct, maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was something deeper.  

or maybe you wanted a friend in the bar. you had no idea.

yes your plan was to relax after work, but most of your coworkers probably would have cut you off if they knew your true self outside of work. how you were unmarried, how you did not want kids, how much you loved the same gender as your own. 

when you caught the woman near the entrance, the way she stood stiffly, unsure, you knew.  

she was new.  

and she was beautiful. 

you weren’t new to finding women attractive…not after everything. there was something about the korean woman. the way she held herself, poised but tense. the way her dark hair framed her face, how the soft shadows of the bar made her look even more striking.  

and then there were her eyes.  

deep brown, sharp but hesitant.  

you wanted to know what she was thinking.  

so you went to her.  

hyun ju’s heart was pounding as you stopped just a few feet away, tilting your head slightly.  

“you look like you just walked into the wrong place,” you said, a teasing lilt to your voice.  

hyun ju blinked.  

she understood the words, but her brain took an extra second to process them due to the changed language in her life.  

“uh, no,” she said quickly, voice quieter than she wanted it to be. 

“i… i walk here… on purpose.”  

your lips curved into a smile.  

“walked here on purpose,” you corrected gently.  

hyun ju felt heat rise to her face.  

the korean’s english was good…she had spent years perfecting it in the special forces, learning it because she had to. in moments like this, when nerves got the best of her, she could feel the gaps, the awkward pauses, the stumbles over words.  

she cleared her throat.  

“yes. that.”  

you smiled wider, and suddenly, she wasn’t so nervous anymore.  

“where you from?” you asked.  

hyun ju swallowed, steadying herself.  

"korea… south korea," she said carefully.  

you nodded, feeling yourself cracking a joke. 

"thats good. at least you aren’t a commie… are you here for work?"  

hyun ju shook her head. 

"um no. i… moved here."  

you raised a brow, intrigued.  

most people you had met in san francisco were only passing through, running from something.  

hyunju she had the look of someone who had left for good.  

"well," you said, "welcome to san francisco."  

hyun ju hesitated before nodding.  

"you come here a lot?" she asked, the words slow but sure.  

you let out a small laugh. 

"first time."  

hyun ju's eyes widened slightly.  

“really?”  

“yeah,” you admitted, taking a sip of your drink. 

“i just moved here, too.”  

hyun ju’s shoulders relaxed, just a little.  

“so…” she hesitated, choosing her words. 

“we both… new.”  

you grinned.  

"looks like it."  

for the first time all night, hyun ju felt okay. 

—

moments like this never lasted long.  

just as you were about to ask her name, a voice cut through the air…sharp and full of disdain.  

“john i didn’t think they let colored people in here.”  

the mood shattered.  

you froze.  

slowly, you turned.  

a man..white, mid-thirties, his suit slightly wrinkled…stood a few feet away. he was clearly drunk as his lips curled in disgust, eyes flicking between you and hyun ju with thinly veiled distaste.  

hyun ju’s shoulders squared, her expression unreadable.  

she didn’t understand what was happening, since this type of thing is not something she experienced much back in korea.. due to being the majority back at home.

you.. here… were alwayd the minority when it came to race.

you felt anger rise in your chest, hot and immediate.  

“what’d you say?” your voice was low, dangerous.  

the man let out a humorless chuckle. 

“you heard me.”  

hyun ju didn’t know how to react.  

you..

you had had enough.  

“leave us alone, go get another drink,” you scoffed, turning away in your seat.  

the man scoffed, mocking you, his jaw tense

before anything could escalate, a firm hand clapped onto his shoulder.  

it was the bouncer…the same one who had let you in and was told by the bartender about a rude bargoer disturbing the peace.  

"think it's time for you to go," he said flatly.  

the man hesitated.  

after a second, he scoffed and turned away, grumbling under his breath.  

you exhaled slowly, the anger still burning in your chest.  

beside you, hyun ju was silent.  

you turned to her.  

“you okay?�� 

you asked, voice softer now.  

she hesitated. then nodded.  

“yeah…thank you.”  

you smiled.  

"don't mention it."  

hyun ju studied you, something unreadable in her eyes.  

you took a slow sip of your drink, tilting your head.  

“so,” you said, 

“what’s your name?”  

hyun ju hesitated…just for a second…before answering.  

“…hyun ju.”  

you smiled.  

"well, hyun ju," you said, offering your hand, 

"i'm y/n."  

she looked at your hand.  

then, slowly, she took it.  

her fingers were warm against yours.  

at this point.. it's been three hours since you first entered the bar.. the room had emptied out slightly, but neither of you seemed to notice.  

hyun ju was still sitting across from you, her glass resting lightly between her fingers, her dark eyes watching you as if she were still deciding whether this moment was real.  

you had been talking for hours.  

somewhere between your second drink and the distant echo of a beetles song crackling through the jukebox, hyun ju had started to relax.  

the ex-sergeants shoulders had loosened.  

hyunju’s laughter had come easier.  

the woman’s words.. at first careful, precise…had started to spill with a natural rhythm, as though she had finally realized that here, with you, she didn’t need to be so guarded.  

the two of you had long since stopped feeling like strangers.   

“back home in virginia,” you started, fingers tracing the rim of your glass, “i had nice parents.”  

hyun ju tilted her head slightly.  

had 

not have.  

she caught that.  

you let out a soft, bitter chuckle, shaking your head.  

"they were good to me,” you continued, “strict, but fair. my mom used to wake up at five in the morning just to make breakfast before my dad went to work. my dad used to take me fishing when i was little, even though i hated it."  

hyun ju smiled slightly, resting her chin on her hand, watching you.  

she liked listening to you talk.  

the way your words rolled off your tongue, smooth and warm.  

the way you spoke with your hands sometimes, emphasizing a point with a flick of your wrist.  

the way your voice softened when you spoke about your childhood, even if only for a moment.  

there was something else.  

something unsaid.  

"so... you don't talk to them anymore?"  

your smile faded, your fingers tightening around your glass.  

"nah."  

hyun ju frowned slightly.  

she understood.

you sighed, leaning back in your seat.  

"they were good to me when they thought i was good, too," you said, glancing at her. 

"when they thought i was gonna marry some nice man, be a housewife like my sister, make them proud."  

hyun ju's expression softened.  

"but then they found out."  

you took a slow sip of your drink.  

"word got around town about me. about the things i liked. who i liked." you exhaled. 

"suddenly, my mom wasn’t waking up at five anymore. my dad stopped looking me in the eye. and before i knew it, i wasn’t their daughter anymore."  

hyun ju was silent for a moment before she spoke.  

“…i can relate.”  

you glanced at her, curiosity flickering in your gaze.  

hyun ju hesitated, but only for a second.  

"i resigned from the special forces because hiding was starting to consume me. the environment made me force myself to realize that i couldn’t keep pretending to be something i wasn’t.”  

your brow lifted slightly.  

you did not ignore her vulnerable words, but she did not look like a woman who had fighting background.

“the special forces? like korea’s military?”  

she nodded.  

a slow grin spread across your face.  

“so you left korea because you just didn’t wanna serve in vietnam with the rest of them?”  

hyun ju’s eyes widened before she burst into laughter, a deep, genuine sound that made your chest feel lighter.  

"no, no!" she shook her head, grinning. 

"i swear, not because of that."  

"mm-hmm." you smirked. 

"sure, unnie."  

hyunju’s laughter stopped abruptly.  

she blinked at you, stunned.  

“…you know what unnie means?”  

you took another slow sip of your drink.  

“i had a korean friend back home in virginia.. she was actually a refugee from the north.”  

you sigh, remembering the days in those “colored only” schools.

hyun ju let out a breath of laughter, shaking her head in disbelief.  

"you surprise me."  

you shrugged, grinning. 

"i get that a lot."  

she smiled, and for a moment, there was nothing but the hum of the bar around you, the clink of ice in glasses, the distant sound of the jukebox.  

she looked at you like she wanted to say something else.  

but instead, she just watched you.  

“i used to hate my older sister.”  

the words slipped out before you even realized you had said them.  

hyun ju looked at you, surprised.  

you sighed, swirling your drink.  

"she did everything right."  

your voice was steady, but there was an edge to it.  

"married some good man who works for NASA, had kids, made my parents happy." you exhaled, shaking your head. 

"meanwhile, i was the ‘hippie’ who ran away from home to play into my ‘sick’ fantasies, according to them.”  

hyun ju frowned, watching you carefully.  

she could see it…the hurt you tried to mask with humor.  

the way you carried it in your shoulders, the slight tension in your jaw.  

she didn’t pity you.  

she understood you.  

you took a deep sip of your drink, exhaling sharply.  

"but whatever," you said, forcing a small smirk. 

"we all have our own shit, right?"  

hyun ju was quiet for a moment.  

then, softly, she asked, "do you think you're ruining your life?"  

you blinked, caught off guard.  

do you think you're ruining your life?  

you scoffed, shaking your head. 

"no."  

hyun ju's lips curled slightly.  

"good."  

you raised a brow, amused. 

“what, you thought i was gonna have an existential crisis right here at the bar?”  

hyun ju laughed again, and god, you liked that sound.  

deep and real, the kind of laugh that made you want to hear it again and again.  

"you're ridiculous," you said, shaking your head.  

hyun ju leaned forward slightly, her eyes warm.  

“you like it.”  

you laughed, tilting your head slightly. 

“yeah,” you admitted. 

“i do.”  

she smiled.  

and something shifted.  

something unspoken.  

later, somewhere between the third and fourth round of drinks, the conversation turned to beauty.  

hyun ju leaned back slightly, tracing the condensation on her glass with her finger.  

"it's strange," she murmured, voice softer now. 

"the idea of beauty."  

you tilted your head.  

"what do you mean?"  

she hesitated, choosing her words carefully.  

"i look in the mirror," she said, "and sometimes, i don't know what i see. i see my face, my body. but then—" she swallowed. 

"then i see what other people see. and it's... different."  

you watched her for a moment.  

then, without hesitation, you said… 

"you're beautiful, hyunju."  

she froze.  

her dark eyes lifted to meet yours, wide, unreadable.  

you smiled.  

and after a moment…  

so did she.  

it was small at first, hesitant.  

then, slowly, it grew into something warm.  

loving.   

you grinned, saying nothing while watching hyunju mentally accept the compliment.  

hyun ju shakes her head, blushing.  

before either of you knew it, it was three in the morning.  

the bar had mostly emptied out, save for a few lingering figures who didn’t know where home was next.  

you were both drunk.  

however… neither of you wanted to leave.  

not yet.  

not when something real was unfolding between you.  

not when the night still had more to offer.  

not when, for the first time in a long, long time..

neither of you felt alone.  

the ice in your glass had long since melted, the condensation leaving small rings on the table where you had set it down. the bar was nearly empty now. 

hyun ju stretched slightly, rolling her shoulders as she sighed.  

"it's late," she murmured, glancing at the orange analog clock hanging above the bar.  

you followed her gaze.  

3:27 AM.  

you hadn’t even noticed the time.  

you had been too wrapped up in her voice, in the way she laughed, in the way her eyes crinkled slightly when she was amused.  

too wrapped up in her. 

"where do you live?" you asked suddenly.  

hyun ju blinked, turning her attention back to you.  

"a hotel," she said, taking the last sip of her drink. 

"a few miles from here."  

you frowned, lightly fidgeting with one of your curls.  

"a hotel?"  

she nodded. 

"until i find an apartment."  

your frown deepened.  

you didn’t like that.  

the thought of her walking alone at this hour, through these streets, in this city…  

no.  

"that’s not safe."  

hyun ju raised a brow, amused.  

"i served in the special forces, remember?" she reminded you, lips twitching. 

"i’ll be fine, love."  

your heart stuttered slightly at the way she said it, even if she didn’t mean it the way you wanted her to.  

you shook your head.  

"no."  

hyun ju blinked at you, caught off guard by the firmness in your voice.  

you leaned forward slightly, locking eyes with her.  

"stay with me tonight."  

hyun ju hesitated.  

“where?”  

you tilted your head toward the door.  

"just a few buildings down," you said. 

"i live on this street."  

hyun ju exhaled softly, shaking her head with a small laugh.  

"you don't need to worry about me," she said, voice gentle.  

you did worry.  

maybe because she was new to the city.  

maybe because she had already been through so much.  

or maybe because you simply didn’t want this night to end.  

you reached out, resting a hand on her soft forearm.  

"please," you murmured.  

hyun ju stilled.  

your touch was light, barely there, but it sent something warm spreading through her chest.  

she looked at you.  

your brows were slightly furrowed, lips pressed together in concern.  

you didn’t want her to go. 

somehow, that meant more to her than she could put into words.  

"...alright," she finally said.  

you smiled, squeezing her arm gently before pulling back.  

"good."  

hyun ju shook her head, chuckling softly.  

"you’re stubborn."  

you grinned.  

"you like it."  

hyun ju laughed, low and warm.  

you took her soft hand, leading her outside to head back to your cozy apartment.

next part will be linked here

[moowithmidnight]

Okay! My ranting nonsense thoughts on the fight Peggy and Jarvis have in the desert after Ana is shot and Jarvis tries to kill Whitney Frost

(I couldn’t find an easily accessible scenepack for screenshots so rewatch the scene if you need to!)

1. Peggy is a very mixed bag in terms of her reactions when she’s upset- throughout agent Carter she slides fully across the “stiff upper lip” to “unrepentant volatile emotion” sides of the spectrum but it’s also quite simple. She restrains her emotions more (note: not fully bc that’s so important to me) in situations where she feels unsafe.

The perfect example of this is in S1 when Howard tricks her into stealing Steve’s blood- we see her realize that Howard lied to her and grow upset, but before she can leave she runs into Thompson. He has his whole “no man will ever respect you” speech, and she’s clearly upset by that too, and while it shows, she doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset. He isn’t “safe”.

Howard, ironically, in this situation actually is- despite the blatant misogynistic manipulation he tries 2.5 seconds later, Peggy knows that Howard knows how much Steve meant to her, and she recognizes how much Steve meant to him. There’s no need for pretense.

When Jarvis says “everyone around you dies”, we are shown Peggy clearly trying to compose herself before turning back toward him. Jarvis becomes “not safe” because she doesn’t want to reveal how much she agrees with him. Right now, she doesn’t think Ana has any lasting damage from her attack, so while she’s carrying guilt for the shooting, it’s easier to lash out and point out Jarvis’ hypocrisy.

The language she uses it very cutting and precise, but the calmness she’s trying to project actually speaks to how truly upset she is I think.

1.5. Agent Carter also does a good job of showing the way Peggy reacts faced with one vs multiple stressors, which I feel like way too many shows neglect- of course someone is generally going to have a bigger reaction faced with twenty issues compared to only one. And in this case, it’s definitely a multiple stressors type of situation, but that’s for another day-

2. She blatantly self soothes before she turns to face Jarvis!! This ties into the stuff British upper lip, but you can see her physically rub her hand against her clothes multiple times between the first and seconds shots.

Originally I thought she was clutching the wound she got from Whitney earlier in the season but that would be on the other side.

She also does it again after Jarvis reveals that Ana can’t have children- idk why that’s so special to me but it is.

3. When Peggy retaliates against the claim, the reason her reaction is so sharp and pointed and seemingly angry is because she knows (and believes) that what Jarvis says is true.

Throughout the series, as a general rule, Peggy doesn’t react strongly when people accuse her of something that isn’t true. She’s not immediately angry when they accuse her of treason or when Jack hands her the fake file of her “crimes” during WWII.

But she believes that she gets people killed, so having someone else say that, especially someone who knows how much she believes it, hurts more.

3.5. On that point, she very pointedly never denies what Jarvis says. She disputes this particular example (although only until the moment Jarvis reveals that Ana actually will have lasting complications from the wound) but she never says “you saying everyone around me dies is wrong”.

4. Also!! The words she chooses and her tone are all so telling. She says “lucky you” at the end, and it’s a dig, but the way she says it is loaded with genuine envy. She does think he’s lucky, she wants that. The whole speech is so reminiscent of Dottie’s speech to her at the end of S1, where she’s trying for anger but says how jealous she used to be of girls like Peggy.

5. I think the thing that really destroys Peggy here too is the fact that it’s Jarvis saying this. Replace him with any other character- even Daniel- and I truly think her reaction would’ve been different.

For one, Jarvis is the sole person who she confided in about how she believes being around her gets her loved ones killed, and this was the beginning of season 1. “Maybe lose is too nice a word- I get them killed”.

The other thing is that it’s Jarvis. Bumbling, well-meaning, kind of naive, very sweet and endearing, thinks so highly of her Jarvis. So to her, if he finally sees this as the truth, then she really is doomed.

6. The fucking tear, dear lord. After Peggy starts to walk away again, we get very clear shots of her face as Jarvis fades into the background. But it’s only after she whips around to face him that the lighting shifts and we see the tear sliding down her cheek- sick and twisted truly.

7. Peggy’s last sentence before Jarvis reveals Ana can’t have kids is “the moment we escape this desert, we can escape each other forever” which is obvious harsh. And while Peggy’s tone is very sharp and jagged, it doesn’t really reach angry when combined with her facial expressions- she’s clearly upset. It speaks to her attempt at restraint, especially the way “forever” is clearly choked compared to the rest of the sentence.

She wants to hurt him and lash out, yes, but I also think it’s partly her tendency to push everyone away from her peeking through again for a very important reason- Jarvis was the original person who encouraged her to form connections. He was the one who told her she couldn’t (and didn’t need to) take on the weight of the world alone. His encouragement led to her forming relationships outside of the SSR and eventually to letting him tag along with her, the thing he now resents her for.

8. In the gif set my original reblog tag was on, the first gif is right after Jarvis says that Ana “is married to a coward, who can’t bring himself to tell her [she can’t have kids].”

Hayley Atwell’s acting is this is incredible- the way Peggy clearly wants to reassure him at first, her face screaming “you aren’t a coward” but physically can’t bring herself to speak because you can tell as soon as she does her voice is going to break (which she does).

But even after that, you can see the exact moment where she fully processes and internalizes the blame. Before this, like I said, she’s so clearly jealous, because as far as she knows, while Ana did get hurt, she’s 100% fine. All of a sudden the rug is pulled out from under her and she has to reconcile with the fact that, oh shit, she did get someone else hurt. You can see her eyebrows kind of furrow and her face scrunch up slightly more as she goes through that process, leaning toward “I’m going to start sobbing” as her chin literally wobbles.

9. Jarvis’s apology. Jesus. “It’s not an excuse for what I did because it is inexcusable. But I am truly sorry.” Not only was it so incredibly genuine, but it’s so telling- the way his words are left purposefully vague so the audience can’t tell what he’s apologizing for— trying to kill Whitney and/or lashing out at Peggy— is delicious writing.

10. This is technically after the scene ends, but Peggy denying Jarvis’ obvious attempt to plan out their next move by saying “no, Mr. Jarvis, you need to be with your wife” is also very telling. It isn’t her holding a grudge and being petty, it’s the result of their argument but only because, again, she fully believes that what Jarvis said is true.

The obvious guilt she was carrying from Ana being shot is now multiplied into oblivion, especially because- simile to Colleen, who’s death sparked her confiding in Jarvis about this in the first place- Ana is entirely non-involved in this. She isn’t part of the SSR, a veteran, or anyone who has a stake in their job the way many of the other dead characters were. She was never supposed to get hurt, she was never supposed to even be at risk.

—

Anyways. Peggy Carter I love you and your terrible tragic life and I wish you could have had a long hard cry after this because you deserve it!!

Also I wrote these out of order- because rants- so the ones in the middle are probably a lot stronger than the beginning rip

(This might be my longest post ever I am so sorry @malewifegradyruewen LMAO)

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Male Musume: Suu Me

Rules | Kofi | Monster Musume Masterlist

Since the implementation of the schedule, life with the monster boys was much easier. With the mere mention of the days that belonged to each of them, fights were broken up, arguments were settled, and they were more adamant about keeping each other in check. Even Smith’s appearances seemed to die down, his calls, and voicemails dwindling into much of nothing. The only thing you had as proof that he even remembered you all was the hefty grant. 

You would not be making the same mistake as Kurusu. You were getting that cheque, baby!

So far life has been good. You were expecting something soon, after all the mermaid was next. After the slime of course, but even that was an unknown variable.

In the anime, it was clear that Suu had made a conscious decision to pursue them and the girls had accepted her. Becoming close with the slime as she grew into herself and the home she’d joined. She was their friend. It’s not that you didn’t think they could make friends….it’s just that they acted like that was the most absurd thing to do.

“Alright, Pypi it’s your turn to roll! Here’s the die.”

“Darling, you shouldn’t bother. The peanut brain doesn’t even have hands, he’s not going to figure it out.”

“Milo, that’s mean! You don’t say that to your friend.”

“He’s not my friend.” “Oh yeah? Well.....you don’t even have a penis!”

“Pypi?!” “Yes, I do and I can promise I’m much bigger than yours!”

“Guys stop it!”

Too many times have you had to risk your limbs to stop one or the other from choking one another or poisoning each other or trying to throw each other out the window. It doesn’t scream an environment a sentient slime is going to want to join. The only one who had any chance of being decently friendly would be Centoreo but even he had his moments

One evening you found him polishing his daggers, in the living room. Turning to smile at you, when you asked him why he needed to polish it. Unlike in the anime, he doesn’t use his weapons as much; revealing the weaponry case on few occasions. 

“Because Milo thought he’d take a cheap shot while I was cooking,”

“What!? Are you okay? Is he okay? What happened?”

Centoreo squinted his eyes at his reflection in the metal, letting his even smile become lopsided as he smirked. 

“He’s just licking his wounds now. Touched a sore spot or something. You know how he is.”

“Yeah…I guess.”

You decided not to question further only noting how despite his gentleness with you that was far from the case with the others. Even more concerning Pypi the harpy, who was supposed to be the slime’s best friend, seemed far too focused on gaining your affection than making friends. 

“Ne bird-guy! You wanna play?”

“Oh Pypi these neighborhood kids want to play do you maybe want to play with them?”

“Pft-no.”

“...why not? You love playing sports.”

“Yeah with you and maybe with our chicks when we hatch them.”

“Well…what about practice?”

Pypi blushed and sighed, “I guess but only because you asked.”

BAM!

“Ow! Wahhh!”

“Pypi, apologize!”

It just seemed highly unlikely that the slime would be getting anything more than a simple welcome before being the subject for many assassination attempts. It’s a shame considering in comparison to the girls Suu actually represented one of the healthier relationships with Kurusu. Minus a couple instances of accidental drowning. A lot of the other monster girls had weird implications and violent repurcussions that usually left the human man with dire wounds. You would not be him. 

That being said just because you were able to avoid broken limbs didn’t mean you’re coming out completely unscathed. Being the only real peacemaker it was mostly up to you for order to be maintained. While Centoreo was great at breaking up fights he wasn’t a fair mediator and recently he’d been exhibiting a ‘pacifist’ style where—and you quote, ”Perhaps if we let the idiots attack one another one of them will get the job done!” 

All that meant for you was there was one less obstacle for somehow being responsible for the monster-men attacking each other. Thus using the usually ignored communal time to take a trip to the store you took the most reactive roommate of yours. 

“Oh Darling~We haven’t been on a date in sooo long!”

You lightly chuckled,”But your day was just a little while ago.”

“So? Being stuck fighting off those saboteurs is hardly a date!” 

He scooped you up, completely unbothered by the curious passerbys and the way you nervously tried to hide your face.

“But now we get to go out on a real date! And it’s the first one initiated by you!”

That was surprisingly true, with the possibility of Suu not arriving there was a growing chance that nothing would get better. That their violent bickering would continue to escalate and with no one to care for they’ll only be focusing on you. So to maybe flicker the kindling of a somewhat friendly relationship, you decided to remove instigator #1.

“..Yeah…I guess this is the first.”

Who were you to shatter his delusion? Not someone who wanted to deal with the fall out of refusing a mentally unstable naga–that’s who. If it meant that Centoreo and Pypi might bond or even team up against Milo, in his absence it would just be better for everyone you that you’ll take a single “date” for the team.

“Oh Darling why don’t we get a sundae! Or a milkshake one that we can share together!”

You let him pull you along into the pastel colored ice cream shop, ignoring the curious gazes of a couple passerbys. Speaking of passerbys that annoying couple Kurusu and the girls pass by hasn’t really shown themselves like at all. You can count on one hand the trips you and Milo have taken to town and off the top of your head you can’t think of anyone you encountered that resembled them.

“Honey! Can I have your wallet to buy the treats?”

“But Milo it doesn’t really make a difference—”

“Honey?!”

“Alright Alright, I’ll go get us a seat outside.”

“Thank you, Darling!”

Ignoring the concerned gazes of the employees you turned to do exactly as you said. Sat in your seat, fighting boredom as you watched Milo playfully hiss at the frightened employee. You could tell just by his body posture that he was only bluffing. Sighing and face-palming it dawns on you how much you’d truly come to know him and subsequently the others. What was it? Weeks? Months? Since you’ve landed in this world and assumed the main character’s role to the genderbent versions of his harem and to think it hardly truly begun. With tons more incidents and other monsters to go it was grounding for your only worry to be appeasing the three you have. A small part of you hoped by some divine intervention you’d only have them to deal with for the rest of your time here. 

Splosh!

Looking above you were certain that major droplet might signal oncoming rain but a quick look around disproved that. Writing off the sound as someone likely spilling something far away you returned to watching Milo in the window.

Sploosh!

Seeing the Naga already returning with an unbelievably loaded milkshake stuffed with two straws. It didn’t seem like he’s the cause of the mysterious splishing sound and no one inside the store seemed to either. You figured you’d ignore it since Milo was already pouting at you.

“Darling! You can’t daydream about me when I’m right in front of you! I mean I love being the only one on your mind but you’ve got to look at me babe!”

“Yeah yeah sorry, Milo I just thought I was hearing–”

“Don’t you worry about it, darling! Now take a sip of their infamous double decker, extra sweet, milkshake—”

PLOP!

“Eeeugh what is that!?”

A slime has appeared and it’s staring cutely at you as it dissolves the milkshake Milo just bought with your money. All its doing is looking up at you with yellow ‘eyes’, mimicking the tilt of your head as you inspected it. It truly was the most bizarre monster you’d come across. While it was a shock to see Milo and his tail mystically twirl around you there wasn’t a doubt that you were looking at was real. With Suu the fact you could see through them while they were still looking at you. It was completely amazing. 

Your concentration was broken by Milo, who was trying to pull the feasting slime off the disappearing milkshake. He was failing his hands only wafting through the unperturbed blob; repeating the action it made you laugh at how goofy he looked. That made the Naga pause letting a blush take over his face as he examined yours. When was the last time he’d seen you laugh so earnestly? The small smile creeping on his face fell when he realized the blob had turned from you and was looking at him. Bopping up and down with a rhythm of your laughter almost like it was trying to demonstrate that it was laughing too. 

Milo hissed loudly scaring away the remaining guests at the cafe’s front. Honestly that might have been better for the exchange if less people saw how angry he was getting over a simple slime. 

Instead of trying to grab the slime he just outright picked up the table, launching the slime and the glassware on it into the wall of an office building across the street. While the level of strength from Milo wasn’t a surprise to you, the fact it was being done in public made this feel wrong. Darting your head around you looked for anyone who was still around and holding their phone up. You found one—a teenager still in the cafe snickering at the video. Grabbing Milo’s hand had his countenance change in an instant; the rush of blood in his cheeks weakening to his usual blush.

“C-c’mon Milo maybe we should just head home or to the park…a secluded part in it.”

“Aw how forward, Darling.”

The feeling of his tail curling around you, felt restricting but anything to divide his attention. It took awhile but you eventually were able to lead him away from the populated area. With no sign of Suu nearby and most people avoiding the wooded area of the park, you decided to continue your date there. Which Milo was starting to make you regret.

“Oh Darling! You picked the perfect place! Not only are we alone but we’re so far from the families they’d hardly hear it if you let out a scream.”

“Milo I just took us here because of what happened at the cafe—”

“Hush hush it doesn’t really matter why we’re here. Just that we are and we’re finally alone.”

“Milo–” you started to scold him but stopped on the account of whiplash disorienting you. 

Faster than you can register Milo had flipped you on your back, propping your head up with the slimming side of his tail. Naturally you flailed allowing Milo to snatch your wrists with calculated precision, the rest of him lightly trapping your legs from kicking. Holding your wrists above your head he let his chilled noise trail from your cheek to the collar of your shirt where he paused. Looking at your frightened expression with a blush more intense than his angered face he bit at the cloth, teasingly beginning to tear downward. 

You wanted to scream. Anything to deter what was happening now! The second you opened your mouth the end of the tail beneath you shoved its way into your mouth; invasively pushing further down your throat doing much more than silencing you. Milo hummed his smile faltering as he fought back the sound threatening to come out. Other than the silent movement of your bodies against the grass, your muffled gagging, and Milo’s hushed whimpers if anyone did hear they’d do nothing to intervene. Looking into Milo’s eyes to plead only seemed to egg him further as the tip of his tail pulled out before pushing back in the curious gentleness it had before beginning to wane. Milo was getting louder and if it was possible his face was getting redder.

“Oh Darling will we do it? Oh~! Finally consummate our bond that I’ve been ~aw~dreaming of?”

He pulled his tail out of your mouth momentarily allowing you to breath. Coiling and curling tighter around as you coughed. Finally gaining your breath you tried to speak, his tail shoving back in. Transferring both of your wrists to one of his hands he smirked at you.

“Ah but you’ve been doing so much! I think it’s finally,” his hand tore the remaining fabric of your shirt; languidly tracing his hand along your stomach. In a teasing pace he let his index and middle finger walk to the buckle of your belt, ”time-for-you-to-feel good.”

He slashed through the belt. Your eyes began to burn as you prepared for what you hoped to avoid from the very beginning.

“Darling. Please baby look at me. I want you to look at me when I—Ahhh!”

In a flash of blue Suu descended from the treetops to firmly hold his blobness on the unprepared Naga’s head. It took him a moment before he had to unravel himself from you, all his limbs trying desperately to take off the blob hoping for air. Of course they were all unsuccessful making the naga writhe as he fought for the air he was gradually running out of. For once you didn’t feel the need to intervene. You already knew if you confronted him about this later he’d shrug you off or coo about the private conversation you were having. Maybe taking advantage of Suu to put the monster man in his place might be the best call. Milo holds out longer than you expect allowing you to reset your outfit as much as possible, taking your time to pout over the torn remains of your shirt. At one point he turns to you reaching out as if you could do better than he—your response being a tongue stuck out as you held up the remains of your shirt. Its after another two minutes that Milo starts to slow, barely fighting any more. That’s when the tiny eensy bitty little feeling of guilt comes in.

“Hey Suu, maybe you can let up for now?”

The blob’s eyes look to you, to stare. For a minute you wonder if they even understand you, thinking back it took Papi and the girls a minute to actually get Suu to communicate. Just as you begin to think about how you’d go about removing the slime, Suu seems to expand. Doing the exact opposit of you ask to fully engulf the torso of the naga, who’s no longer struggling.

“C-c’mon please don’t kill him! He get’s on my nerves sometimes but I really don’t want him to die.”

You try in vain to grab a hold of Suu who continues to stare as they grow. Worried that this wasn’t a matter of suffocating but actually catching and eatting prey that they were exhibiting. It’d make sense that a slime, smart enough to evolve to speak would pick up on Milo’s earlier intent to kill them and was now retaliating. 

So many thing had changed in this version of the world…

You just didn’t think it’d constitute one of the main character’s dying.

“Suu please! Don’t Suu!”

You kept your hands in them holding on to Milo as his blinking was getting slower and slower. Looking through the blue haze at the first student you housed, the finality of this moment dawning as he tried to smile at you. The quirk of his lips so small you barely noticed. The grip you had on him being the only force on Milo’s weakening body. 

Seeing the droplets fall from your face into the blob, it was then you realized you were actually crying. 

Crying for Milo who was no longer breathing.

Closing your eyes, you tried to burn the memories of a living Milo. 

You should have never tried so hard to make them into friends.

You should have never taken Suu’s arrival so lightly.

You should have never gone on this date.

“(Y/n), you’re crying?”

That whiney despicably sweet voice made you snap your eyes open. There was Milo shirtless and without the blueness of Suu’s body. You could feel his tail slowly dragging along the grass closer to you. Even barely awake he could never leave you alone.

Seeing the monster happily breathing, you look up at the blob who was just a step away. Fully transformed into something similar to Milo holding up the shirt the Naga was wearing. Wondering why he didn’t just wear it you watched him, keeping eye contact with the slime. Suu walked forward Milo still getting in front of you as a shield. Still the slime came forward presenting the shirt to you, folded and with a small dampness that remained from Suu’s person. 

“Thank you.”

The slime smiled and repeated your words just like they did with Papi, it made you smile. Seems like Suu didn’t change all that much.

Milo sneered, “This slime almost killed me! Don’t gift him with your thanks Darling!”

You glared at him, dropping the shirt to smack the naga upside the back of his head.

“Only one of you ruined my shirt and touched me inappropriately today; they are the only one who deserves my thanks.”

Milo slumped into his coils, pretending to cry because you ‘yelled’ at him.

“And along with my thanks I’d like to offer you something,” you smiled as you finished putting on the Naga’s shirt, “how would you like to live with us, Suu?”

[donnatroyyyy]

Batman has/had some kind of miscommunication going on with every single one of his kids. The bat family is just one big miscommunication trope after the other.

[gu6chan]

ended up reading old discord convos when looking through the deleted accounts in my DMs and ngl putting aside how willingly gullible i let myself be back then it's crazy how different things could have been if i didn't make friends with like literally one person goddamn 😭

[lavandulawrites]

Yandere Genshin Men Eating Out Their Darling

Characters: Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Capitano, Childe, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Dottore, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Kinich, Lyney, Neuvillette, Ororon, Pantalone, Pierro, Sethos, Thoma, Tighnari, Venti, Wanderer/ Scaramouche, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli (all separate)

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

I decided to do ca. 100-200 words each character to keep it nice and simple:) (some are over 200 tho). This took me longer than expected haha. My requests are open, but read my rules before requesting <3

Masterlist

Warnings: NSFW 18+, cunilingus, all sexual acts are consensual, female reader, obsession, possessiveness, some of the yandere tendencies are more subtle than others, future imprisonment, face sitting, jealousy, fingering, Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, forced marriage, reader is indifferent to some of the yandere behaviour in some of the parts, translation at the end, power imbalance, THE BLOOD IN CHILDE’S PART IS NOT PERIOD BLOOD, BUT BLOOD FROM SOMEONE HE HAD TO “SETTLE THINGS WITH”

Word count: 4779

Albedo

The unforgiving wind of the icy mountain howled against the treetops. The fireplace was lit given you much needed warmth. It had been 2 months since you had moved up into the cozy cabin high up in the mountain with the famed researcher.

His hand scissored skilfully into your cunt before his tongue joined them. The cold left you quickly as his tongue dove in deeper into your fluttering cunt.

You were glad you had taken upon the offer of the blond haired man and followed him up to Dragonspine. Here you had been happier than ever before and you believed him when he said that others would just do you harm.

Alhaitham

The scribe was a calculated and well composed man. So who would have thought he would lose his composure so easily when it came to you? Your presence was enough to make his seemingly cold manners crack and turn into poorly hidden admiration. Alhaitham did anything he could to keep you as shielded from the outside world as possible.

His muscular arms kept your legs open as he devoured you with uncharacteristic vigour. He sneered like a starved animal as he left mark after mark on your thighs. A guttural sneered left his lips as he dove his face further into the warmth of your cunt. You cooed at him lovingly as shivers of pleasure ran through your body.

Ayato

Ayato had always had his way with words. He had always had the upper hand no matter the circumstances. He was a beautiful man and he reminded you of a siren. His lilac eyes enchanted you to no extent. His touches intoxicating, leaving you wanting more. He was a dangerous man, that much you knew, but it didn’t stop you for seeking him out time after time. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but he loved you, oh so much and he kept you safe.

His bed was soft as and comforting. The doors open and welcoming in the breeze from the sea. The moon was high and clouds covered some of its white body.

The pale blue haired man was busy with burying his face between your legs were he ate you out with precision. His eyes never leaving yours as he showed you what it meant being the wife of the head of the Yashiro Commission. You found yourself melting in his touches and any thought about your parents disappeared without a trace. The smug smirk of the ethereal man was out of your understanding as you lost yourself to pleasure.

Baizhu

The Bubu Pharmacy was empty save from the two of you. The lights were dimmed and the window closed to keep the cold autumn night air out. Candles were lit to give you some much needed light. Baizhu’s trusted companion, the snake that often accompanied him, was in another room far away.

Orange reptile like eyes gazed down on you gently as he moved slowly down your body and to where you wanted him the most. His light touches teasing and making you hunger for more.

He parted your thighs skilfully as he kissed up your slit before he entered your hole with his tongue. The very same tongue which had driven your family and loved ones away with elegantly spun lies and well hidden treats.

Now the only thing you needed was him and his gentle, loving touches.

Capitano

The 1st Harbinger was a big and righteous man. He was stronger than any human that walked the earth and he never broke his word. He had first intimidated you with his size (and he still did at times), but you learned that underneath his helmet was a charming man. His charm was difficult to pinpoint as it was different from most, but it had greatly intrigued you.

His large hands held your legs firmly as they rested in his shoulders. He was kneeling at the foot of the bed with his head buried in your soaking cunt. His helmet was carefully placed on the dresser. Capitano’s long black hair fell against his shoulders as he lapped up your juices. His dark midnight blue eyes stared up at you, making you shiver under their intensity.

“You are so beautiful [Name]” his voice a groan.

You let yourself get lost in the pleasure and you couldn’t care less about the havoc he had caused when a rowdy man had accidentally bumped into you.

Childe

Blood were still coating the ginger strands of the warrior who had you pressed down on his face. The first thing he had demanded when he got home from yet another business trip, was for you to sit on his face. Who were you to deny your husband?

His grip on you were as intense as the rest of the man. His blue eyes were shut in bliss as he ate you out like it was his last meal. And if he had the choice he would die happily between your thighs as he told you at every given moment.

You didn’t last long with that damned tongue of his and before you knew it, you were clutching the headboard for much needed support. Instead of letting you get off, he simply glanced up at you with big eyes full of love and utter devotion.

As he continued to stare, it became obvious of who the blood in his hair belonged to.

Cyno

The white haired Mahamatra had his gazed locked onto your weeping cunt. His calloused hands ran down your sides till they got hold of your hips. His tongue plunged into you like a starved man and drove moan after moan out of you. He had finally managed to convince you to stay at home in his fine house as he would take care off you. Given his mannerism you could tell he was greatly pleased with himself.

His skill full tongue drove you quickly to your climax and you intertwined your hand in his white locks as he licked up your sweet release.

His red eyes looked up at you lovingly as he continued his previous pace. You were in for a long night.

Dainsleif

Blond hair tickled the sensitive skin of the inside of your thighs. The Khaenri'an’s hands were digging into the flesh of your skin as he lapped at your sweet juices. Dain had told you time after time that you were the only person that relived him of the pain that was caused of the curse that was cast upon him. As following he never let you leave him. You had long since learned that the soothing effect you had on his curse was only a tiny tiny fraction as to why he never let you leave his sight.

His groans and your soft moans were echoing through the empty halls of the ruin. The blond man drove his tongue deeper and you felt you were close. You chest heaved up and down in a rapid motion as you tried to calm down form your release.

Cerulean eyes stared up at you with devotion one normally only found in a worshipper of a god. How ironic. Words feel from his mouth which you had no means to understand, yet you felt the meaning through his unrelenting gaze. “Jeg elsker deg, jeg elsker deg, jeg elsker deg, min kjære [Name].”

Diluc

The soft glow of the fireplace warm against your naked skin. The light from the fire lighting up the muscular chest of the redhead that leaned over you. His lips locked against yours in a passionate kiss. Your tongues danced in a seductive tango which made you ache with need between your legs. Diluc hummed as he noticed your thighs pressing together.

With his head between your thighs he worked you closer and closer towards or orgasm. His movements passionate and filled with love. You ran your hair through his red locks. You were truly happy in the arms of the man who loved you more than life itself. You ignored the words of others. So what is he was overprotective and so what is he didn’t want strangers talking to you? He was only trying to protect you.

Dottore

The Doctor was a talented man when it came to the art of intimacy. It was a rather shocking discovery at first, but you was happy he had showed you his ways in the bedroom.

The threat of being imprisoned forever within the walls is his lavish manor hang low over your head like a guillotine. Despite that you couldn’t care less. Not when he was nestled between your legs and lapped at your cunt with such gentleness and love you almost wept. To awaken such emotions within the second Harbinger was a defeat in itself, one which you treasured greatly.

His groans synchronised with your moans in a symphony of love and lust. It made you curious for the future and uneasy for what he had done to your loved ones.

Gorou

The life of a general was busy and dangerous. His days existed of leading battles and giving out orders. So it was only natural he was extremely touch starved when he returned from war and to you.

When you greeted him in the hallway of their cozy home he almost leaped into your arms. You hugged him tightly, glad he wasn’t hurt. He buried his face in the crotch of your neck. “Oh how I have missed you” his voice a whisper.

Pale hands gripped your thighs in a tight grip. Blunt nails digging into your skin. Your hands held onto the headboard with enough strength so you wouldn’t collapse on the man underneath you. His tongue drilled fast and deep into your drenched cunt. He was eating you out like a wild dog. Your every nerves was haywire.

Your breath hitched as Gorou drove you faster and faster to your climax. The brown haired man beneath you muttered chants of “I love you” against your clit over and over again. He had promised you when you pulled you onto the bed that he would never ever leave you again, and judging by his intense look you believed him.

Heizou

Slim fingers ran down your thighs leaving goosebumps in their wake. Dark red hair brushed against your nose. Light green eyes gazed into your eyes with lust and love. Your lips locked in a soft kiss. He tasted sweet like cherries. Your lips pulled apart and you could feel him smirking.

“You have no idea how much I love you, need you” his sensual voice whispered against your lips. He gave you one last deep kiss before he lowered his head down and kissed trails down to where you needed him the most.

You kissed your inner thigh till he reached your sweet cunt. He kissed it once, twice, before he gave it a good lick. You moaned at his moment.

He snickered teasingly as he pushed his tongue inside your spongy walls. He moaned loudly at your taste.

“Archons, you tasted heavenly” he sighed in between licks. His thumb found your clit which he stroked and rubbed skilfully.

You could feel the knot in your lower abdomen getting closer and closer to snapping. Before you knew it you came all over the beautiful face of the man between your thighs.

In your blissful trance you were completely unaware of the documents on his nightstand that read the reports of your future disappearance.

Itto

The horns of the oni was hard and cool underneath your hold. As you rubbed the base the large oni groaned in pleasure. He had you on his face in a tight hold as he ravaged your cunt with such hunger only an oni could posses. As his tongue swirled over your clit in a slow harsh manner, your dread upon seeing him tear the men who had backed you in an alley, in half slowly disappeared.

Your chest heaved as you tightened your hold on his horn which egged him on further. His movements speed up and it didn’t take long before you saw stars. You slumped forwards, but his strong large hands kept you upright.

“I love you so, so much” he murmured against your thigh.

Kaeya

The blue haired captain had without no doubt murdered the annoying tavern patrons in cold blood. Despite that, you felt safe in his arms as he pleasured your cunt with his slivered tongue. His lone eye glanced up at you with a hooded lid which sent a warm jolt down in your cunt.

He was as skilled with his tongue when it came to pleasuring you as he was at whispering you lies that fuelled your dependence on him.

He held you in a tight embrace as you came down form your high. His honeyed voice whisper sweet nothings into your ears and you felt safe in his arms.

Kaveh

Blond locks tickled your thighs as the architect lapped at your cunt. He had been extremely stressed and panicked when he came home to your shared home. He had admitted that he was afraid of someone better coming to whisk you away. You were the only thing that kept him sane. You had stroked his hair reassuringly and told him you would never leave him. Before you both knew it you had ended up in to sofa, with him nestled between your thighs.

You pulled at his soft locks which earned you a grown which reverberated against your cunt. You threw your head back against the cushion. Kaveh had always put your pleasure before his and he had always had a talented for making you feel better than anyone else could.

With a swirl of your clit and thorough the lapping of his wet muscle you came so heard you saw stars. You thought that he must be a gift sent by the gods beyond the sky as he licked up your excessive juices with loud moans.

He leaned over you as he started lovingly into your eyes. “You are never allowed to leave me, ever” he kissed you passionately. His grip on your shoulders was hard as if he was afraid you would run away.

Kazuha

The white haired samurai had always intrigued you. He was a wise man with a connection to nature you could only hope to fully understand. He was so so kind and gentle towards you, yet you had just witnessed him slashing down a group of drunken sailors who had gotten a little too friendly with you. His snowy haired had been stained red as he pulled you into a tight embrace, relived you were okay. You were shaken up by the sight you had just seen before you and he had kissed your face as he had whispered reassuring words. Every word he utters from his pale lips felt like a warm blanket. They always seemed to calm you.

You had helped him wash his hair and as his hair grew more and more white, his desire for you became more and more visible. You had pulled him into a kiss with led to you being laid out on the soft sheepskin rug in the middle of the bathroom.

His tongue wasn’t only good at uttering poetic words, but it was also extremely skilled in the art of pleasure. He ate you out gentle and sensual with his hands gripping your thighs. Every time the started close do to you being so lost in please, he pushed them open firmly. His red eyes held your gaze through the many orgasms he drew out of you. You had now completely forgotten all about the sounds of Kazuha’s katana slashing through the throats of the sailors.

Kinich

The ancient name bearer was a honest man. He believed in getting straight to the point and he rarely kept secrets. Hence why he told you quite early on after he had realised his feelings, what he felt for you. You had been foolish in believing it was just a normal crush and not an endless abyss of love and obsession which had scared his little dragon companion.

You had invited the hazel eyed young man into your home, without knowing that day would be your last day of freedom. After his visited, he would bring you home with him.

You laid spread out onto your bed with the dark haired man planted between your legs. His tongue hungrily ate you out and he swallowed as much slick he possible could. You whispered a soft “I love you” which made him completely lose his composure.

Lyney

White doves, flashy card tricks and well thought out magic performances became a part of your daily life after you accepted Lyney’s love. His feline eyes never left your form and his hand was always near you. He sneered passive aggressive threats at everyone who dared getting close to you. It had starting to get exhausting calming down your possessive lover. Luckily you had come up with a solution.

Burying his head into your cunt had surprisingly calming effects on the magician. He moaned at your sweet taste as his pale lilac eyes fell shut. His tongue was as talented as his fingers and brought you to orgasm after orgasm. You had started to wonder if he actually possessed magical powers after he brought you to your fourth orgasm that night.

Unbeknownst to you, was that the cunning magician had purposely lashed out more than normal at the travelling market you two had visited in order to be granted access between your legs. It was a grand feast for him and a pleasurable act for you, so it was a win win for both parties, wouldn’t you agree?

Neuvillette

The dragon had laid you down on the plush bed. Your skin flat against the silk sheets. His hold on you were gentle, but possessive. Despite his perfectly crafted façade he was only a dragon, and dragons did not ever want to share their treasures. Seeing you surrounded by so many who wanted to congratulate you on your marriage shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did. He had clenched his jaw and dragged you upstairs to his private quarters.

His tongue was skilled and held an authority which made you blush. His pale fingers joined his tongue and brought you to a pleasure you knew you would never find with another man. You let yourself lose control of your body and gave your entire being to the awaiting dragon.

Ororon

The dark haired man was a desperate man. He clung to you as if you were his lifeline and for all you knew, maybe you were. His mismatched eyes held an obsession that ran deeper than the well that was outside his home.

He kissed your lower lips sloppily, but with such passion the poets of Mondstadt could never hope to achieve. He whimpered at the sweet taste of you and his kisses deepened. His lips parted from your sweet cunt and shifted to your inner thigh were he sunk his fangs into. You hissed as he sucked a purple hickey onto your sensitive.

“I should mark you up so no one gets any funny ideas about who you belong to” his sweet voice drowning out any other thoughts and filling them all with him.

Pantalone

Ringed fingers stroked the inside of your thighs as the dark haired Harbinger held your thighs. His pretty lips curled up into a smile that made your cheeks redden. He laughed at your embraced appearance. “Aren’t you the sweetest?” he purred as he kissed the inner of your thighs slowly, teasingly.

When his lips finally reached you were you wanted it the most you couldn’t help the small sounds that escaped your lips. The sounds only pushed him further on as he quickly and suddenly plunged his tongue deep inside. He moved his tongue skilfully as one of his hands found your clit which he rubbed gently.

The ring on your finger which symbolised the eternal binding you had to him felt like a part of you as you came undone on the silver tongue of the banker. It was as if your distaste of the marriage had never happened at all.

Pierro

The director of the Harbingers was a cold and collected man, but when it came to you he was different. The coldness thawed and was replaced with a warmth that lulled your senses. His large hands moved in precision that came with the many years he had lived. The marriage he had forced upon you didn’t seem as bad as you laid in the bed of his elegantly decorated bedroom with relics he had collected throughout the years.

His right hand held onto your thigh as the other held onto your and. Your hands intertwined. On of your legs were popped up on his shoulder as his tongue worked inside your tight hole. He was rather quiet save for a few grunt here and there, but it was obvious he enjoyed himself greatly.

As you came you tightened your hold on his hand and he kissed your thigh gently in a sign of his undying love.

Sethos

The tent was cramped, but with a miracle he had made it cozy. Blankets were covering the ground followed by pillows. Sethos was pressed between your thighs as he worshipped your cunt like it was an ancient goddess. His wild locks had fallen down his shoulders and framed his beautiful face. His gemstone like eyes found yours as he continued to please you with his tongue.

You could tell he was relieved to find you unharmed after the encounter with the bandits. You hadn’t dared to ask what he did to them afterwards, but you decided it was best to ignore it. You knew he would never hurt you, but you couldn’t help but feel bad for the bandits that had the misfortune to encounter the clever young man.

Thoma

The blond housekeeper had always been so very gentle and careful when it came to you. It made you wonder if he was scared you would break if he applied a little more pressure. Tonight however was different.

His hands dug into your skin as his tongue worked you up with fast and harsh movements. You couldn’t hold back the soft moans that fell from your lips. You closed your eyes as he ate you out.

His jealousy was evident in his tight hold. He had been seething through his usually calm and friendly expression. He couldn’t stand seeing other men lay their slimy hands on someone who belonged to him. Who knew what they would do to you?

Tighnari

Soft ears flicked as a deep groan sounded from deep within the chest of the forests watcher. His was eating you with carnal desire that had first surprised you. His arms snaked around your waist in a protective manner.

Tighnari had always been extremely overprotective for as long as you had known him. You had after a time, welcomed that side of him after you realised he only meant you well. His company was all you needed and you had started to forget how it was being with your friends.

A groan left his lips as he lapped up your release with a hunger fever. You let your fingers run along his ear which earned you a strangled moan. His hazel eyes gazed up into yours which such love. Why seek freedom when you had the sweetest lover?

Venti

The playful bard was happily lapping at your wet cunt. His fingers gently caressed your skin. His nose pushed against your clit as he angled his head in order to reach deeper into you.

Venti was a firm believer in freedom, and freedom he had given you. It had surprised you at first how a man with so deep feelings for you at the point you could envision him creeping into the cavity of your chest in order to be closer to you, letting you roam freely within the city. He had let you do as you wished, except talking to other men alone. Whenever a male counterpart approached you, his green eyes filled with rage was he stepped in and dragged you away.

Wanderer/ Scaramouche

Cold breath fanned over your lower half as he bent his face down. His beautiful face ethereal in the moonlight as his eyes found yours. Love and desperation swirled in the violets.

He swirled his tongue around your clit which made you gasp. His cold hand intertwined with yours in a gentle, but firm hold. He had always had the need to know where you were at all times and when you weren’t within his reach he became irritable and lashed out at anyone who dared to talk to him. You had long suspected that there was more to him than what he had told you. One thing was sure, his love for you ran deeper than the roots of the giants trees in the rainforest.

He ate you out with such emotion you were taken aback. The usual snarky man was now glossy in the eyes as his eyes raked across your face.

The moonlight cast long shadows over the bedroom as you came. At that very moment you didn’t care about how he didn’t want you to spend time with your friends. For was it really that bad to only be with him? Was it really that bad to be with the man you love?

Wriothesley

Strong hands held your hips in place as his face burrowed into your crotch. A few groans escaped his lips as his tongue works up your slit. His nose against your clit. Your eyes started up into the ceiling as you moaned. The Duke had had a bad day and he had wanted nothing more than to burrow his head between your thighs and eat you out for hours.

It had become an everyday occurrence with him nestled nicely between your thighs. You had long since stopped complaining about not being able to see the sun that hung high above the blue Fontainian waters.

“You are such a good girl, [Name]. Let me take care of you” his chin was glimmering with slick. His tongue swept over his chin in a hum. “You’re gonna be safe here. I’m glad you finally realise such” he kissed your inner thigh before he dove back in. What he said was true. You were going to be happy with him down in the Fortress.

Xiao

Golden predatory eyes held your gaze as the long fingers of the adeptus plugged into your cunt. The slick sounds filling the room accompanied by your uneven breathing. His mouth locked around your clit as he gave it a hard suck which sent shivers down your spine. Xiao was a man of few words, but that didn’t bother you. He had his own ways of showing you his love.

His ravenous tongue accompanied his fingers as he began his feast. The bedroom at his private quarters at the inn was dimly lit. A lone candle was burning on the nightstand. Your gaze wandered to the open window which overlooked the marsh and the land that stretched beyond. You longed for your freedom, but you didn’t want to part from the adeptus you loved so dearly. Maybe one day you two would traverse the world beyond the surrounding land of the inn.

Zhongli

Strong warm hands pinned you down as soft lips kissed down to your cunt. His hauntingly beautiful eyes met yours as he gently bit down onto your skin. His sharp teeth almost breaking the skin, but he parted before it started to hurt. He had time after time showed you he knew both you and your body better than everyone else.

The contract that laid neatly on the dark wooden nightstand was temporarily forgotten as he worked your through your nth orgasm for the night. His long silky brown hair fell over his shoulders as he tipped your head up into a deep kiss. His tongue invited yours to a dance of pleasure and love. He parted with your lips after a moment that felt like an eternity.

“I will make you happy for eternity. Just sign the contract and I will take care of everything else” his deep voice reverberated through his broad chest.

You nodded, oblivious to what would happen to you when you signed your name onto the golden paper. Your faith was in his hands, but he promised he would take care of you. You were his future wife after all.

Translation

Norwegian → English

“Jeg elsker deg” = “I love you”

“Min kjære” = “My dear”

[inbabylontheywept]

the fine and subtle art of arguing with old men

it was a good week for testing which meant it was a slow week for me. most of my job is fixing the machine when it goes down. if it doesn't go down, i don't have much to do. 

fortunately neither did marc. in a site full of ornery old bastards, he's the oldest and the orneriest, so it goes without saying that i enjoy spending time with him. he reminds me of my grandpa. hell, he reminds me of a lot of people. i've befriended enough grumpy old men that i've got a sort of momentum to it now - you know how it is, when you meet someone that reminds you of someone else you really like. you get to start that friendship off half built, because you already have an idea of how to like that guy, and some of that old warmth can be brought to the new friendship. a little ember to start the stove up with.

(i think that's one of the really undersold beauties of getting older. you stop viewing people as strangers and more like remixes of friends.)

anyway, i was sitting next to marc and we were talking about the future. i've got my eye on having kids sometime soon (year or two? hopefully?), and he's very happy for me. i've tried asking him for advice, but all he says is that he didn't do a great job with his own kids and they still turned out okay, so i should stress less and trust myself more. i hope he's right. he believes it, at least, and it's a hell of a thing to have the faith of an old man. his faith is hard won.

as for his plans, he's retiring at some point in the next six months, and is hoping to sell his home and buy something in florida. he's republican, so he views the state as paradise, and i'm not inclined to even try talking him out of it. it's his dream, you know? i know for a fact my paradise would be a lot of people's hell. life's funny like that.

still, we kept going on, and it was a good time, and then he reminisced about the last time he got close to quitting - back around 2020. our job required getting vaxxed, and he refused, and there was a big kerfuffle about it before the job actually backed down. i know there's not a lot of sympathy for the unvaxxed out here, but the man's 62. you get the shot when you're under 30 to protect the people around you, but when you're over 60, you're just getting it to protect yourself and it's hard to be mad at someone for kicking their own ass. 

still gave me pause though. i knew he wasn't going to take it well, but half the job of collecting curmudgeons is keeping them around, so i said 

hey. i'm sorry they bent your arm over it, but.

but. 

you should really get that shot. 

and he looked over at me, and i looked at him, and he actually spat. not on me, just the concrete, but it was enough to show that he was mad. then he walked away, as abrupt as anything.

i felt bad about it. i wasn't sure what i'd expected, when he was willing to lose his job over it before, but i'd been so invested in his dream of retirement - the idea of him sipping margaritias on a beach next to his wife, the wife he calls every day during lunch, the wife he says is the one thing in life he ever got right on the first try. the wife that almost divorced him back when he was in the airforce because he just wasn't home enough. 

(but he can be home now.) 

and then he mentioned the vax thing, and it was like seeing a pin hit a balloon. he works out every day and takes all sorts of crazy vitamins and is generally committed to getting the most out of his pension and his life. i didn't want this dumb weak point to be his achilles heel. 

---

i wasn't actually sure how long marc would be mad at me. i've seen him stay mad at some people for weeks. i wasn't sure if being friends would make that time go up or down. 

it went down. i'm glad it went down. 

he stopped being mad about two days later. we were doing front end maintenance one morning, and it was just that simple mechanical rhythm - hex key, replace the anode sheets, punch some off-gassing holes, oil it up, put it back in - that put things at ease. it always does. people working there are too busy to remember grudges, and it has this sort of mandatory practical communication that helps smooth things over. it was going great, and then out of the blue he said babs, you gotta be careful giving advice. those shots come with complications. what would you do if i got that shot, had a stroke, and died? 

and i don't know what answer he was expecting, but i just told him the truth, which is that i would be devastated. i'd feel like i killed him. i thought that was a pretty normal response, but he looked taken aback. he asked why i said it then, and i said i'd have felt the same if he died of covid. that's just life. sometimes, there's no way forward that doesn't risk some kind of regret. 

we finished the tube after that, in a silence that felt heavier than peace but lighter than anger. it felt like the ball was back in marc's court. like it would be rude to take that turn from him. 

we parted ways with a nod and didn't speak until the next day. 

---

i was doing spreadsheet work when he found me again. standard paper engineering - thinking of things we might need and ordering them in batches, months ahead of time. it always feels a little like plugging holes in a dam with my fingers. 

but he popped up, and we didn't even exchange pleasantries. he just said i'm gonna die one day, and you can't blame yourself for that. 

which is a hell of a thing to just tell someone right off the bat. 

so i said what 

and he said babs, i am in my 60s. something is gonna get me eventually, and whether it's covid or heart disease, or a stroke, there will be something you could have said or done before. and that's okay. it's not your job to make me live forever. 

and you know, he actually made a lot of sense. so i said 

okay. 

i'll keep your business yours. i just

you were talking about your retirement before this. and i want that for you very much. you've worked hard for 45 years, and you deserve a break. we're getting to sick season, and it would be the saddest fucking thing in the world if you got this close to winning the race then tripped in the last ten feet. 

and we sat there a few moments longer. i wasn't sure what to say, and i wasn't sure what he'd say, but eventually he just shrugged and said

yeah 

then he left. i figured that would be the end of it. 

---

i did front end maintenance yesterday, after being gone a week. it's one of my favorite things to do. i like working with my hands. i really like working with my hands. i'm glad i went to college, but in a different life, i think i could've made a better electrician than an electrical engineer. 

and at one step, when we were both hoisting the plate back onto the machine, his sleeve rode up, and i saw two bandaids on his arm. 

we finished the install, and i was ready to go back when marc actually stopped me. 

i got the shot, he said, almost embarrassed. like he'd been caught. and i knew he was gonna say something dumb about it, so i just cut him off by giving him a hug. 

i was relieved. hugging old men is kind of like picking up cats. if they like you a lot, they'll tolerate it, but that's about it. we sat there maybe three beats before his hands went up, and then he gave me one overly-hard thump on the back. in my experience, this is how old men tell you that they're done, so i let him go.

carla talked me into it, he said, almost defensive. his wife. his one good decision.

tell her i said thanks, i said back.

trump got the shot too, he said, less defensive, but oddly pleading. like he was consoling himself.

like he was nervous.

then it's gotta be safe, i said, and he looked up at me, strangely searching, strangely vulnerable. i don't know exactly what he was looking for, but i guess he found it because after a few moments his shoulders relaxed.

yeah, he said, one hand on the back of his head.

it's gotta be.

[nosyp]

Care For Another Game?

Warning = smut🔞, gambling(?), destroying food, small spoilers, dubious consent

Pairing = Salesman (squid game) x fem! reader

Summary = A simple game of ddakji turns into something much more when he shows up at your door with a proposition. The stakes are higher, and this time, it’s not just about winning. Now it’s about control and desire.

Word count = 2.8k

Part 2

A/N = I'm genuinely so horny for this man please forgive me

“Excuse me, ma’am, would you like to play ddakji?” 

You turned to face the voice, unsure if it was meant for you or someone else. A man stood just a few feet away, a small, polite smile on his face. You were sitting on the bench in the subway, waiting to catch the next one. 

“M-me?” you muttered out.

“Yes.” he replied, very quickly. Damn, he’s so certain. How could I possibly reject it?

“Ehh? Sure I guess…” you mumbled, your words almost inaudible.

“Excellent,” he said, his smile widening just a fraction. He stepped closer, lowering himself to your level. Up close, you noticed how sharp his features were, it was like he was carved out so carefully. His suit didn’t even have a single wrinkle, and his posture was impossibly composed, as if he was used to winning in life.

He then knelt on the dusty subway floor and placed two folded paper squares in front of you. “The rules are simple,” he explained. “You use your tile to flip mine. If you succeed, you win.” You started to roll your eyes as he was explaining the preface of the game… well that was until he held up the stack of cash. Oh you’re not losing now.

“And if I lose?” you asked cautiously.

“Then…” His eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite name. “You owe me.”

You blinked, your unease growing. “Owe you what?”

“Let’s not worry about that just yet.” His voice was calm, almost reassuring, but it only made you more aware of the trap you might be stepping into.

Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your coat. You were unsure whether to back out now or follow through.

“Well?” he prompted, tilting his head slightly. “Which colour do you want?”

“Red please.” you responded, evoking a small smile from him.

You hesitated, then picked up one of the paper tiles. Its edges were surprisingly crisp, as though it had been folded just moments ago. Taking a deep breath, you crouched down to face him.

“Okay,” you said, steadying your hand. “Let’s do this.”

You both immediately got up and started playing. He seemed like an innocent guy from the outside but in the game, he seemed like a completely different person. The force he put into flipping the stupid tiles was so strong you swore you heard the ground shake beneath you.

Somehow, miraculously, you won most of the rounds and earned 500k won. You’d expect him to be a bit better if he was spending a bunch of time running around asking to play. You saw him a few days prior doing the same thing he did with you with other people. Though, they didn’t win much, mostly slaps to the face.

“Thank you,” you say, holding the stack of cash in both of your hands. 

He still had that stupid smile plastered on his face. It never disappeared. How annoying.

“Mm. You’re welcome.” he responds, his face quickly darkening. And he walked away, without saying anything else. He also left the red paper tile with you.

With a satisfied hum, you skipped your way into the arriving subway. 

—

Somehow, that didn’t end up being your last meeting with him.

A week later, you were strolling through the park, enjoying the rare peaceful silence. The chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves accompanied the sounds, but something disrupted the serene atmosphere. A sharp, rhythmic sound.

It was… stomping? And yelling? What the fuck?

Curious, you followed the noise, rounding a corner near the fountain. There, in the middle of an open patch of grass, stood the man from the subway—the Ddakji guy. He was dressed just as sharply as before, though his once-pristine shoes were now caked with crumbs.

You froze, watching in disbelief as he stomped repeatedly on a pile of bread scattered on the ground. It was like a massacre of carbs. He was literally stomping on it while screaming “this is your guys' fault” or some shit like that, in the middle of the park. Holy shit.

“What the hell?” you muttered under your breath while walking closer to him. 

He looked up, pausing mid-stomp as if he’d heard you. His eyes locked onto yours, and that familiar polite smile spread across his face.

“Ah,” he said, straightening his posture as if he hadn’t just been waging war on baked goods. “We meet again.”

You blinked, pointing at the corpses of the bread. “What… are you doing?”

He glanced down, brushing a speck of flour off his pants. “An experiment,” he said simply.

“An experiment?” you echoed, incredulous. “In what? Angering pigeons?”

He chuckled softly, stepping away from the pile. “You wouldn’t understand. But it’s good to see you again, ma’am.”

“Okay, no.” You held up a hand, as if to stop whatever strange explanation he was about to give. “First, why are you stepping on bread? Second, why are you here, in this park, at the exact same time as me?”

His smile didn’t falter, but something in his gaze shifted. It became more calculated, as though he was about to beat you up– okay maybe not literally. 

“Coincidence, perhaps,” he said, though the tone of his voice suggested otherwise. “Or maybe it’s fate.”

You took a step back, your instincts telling you that fate wasn’t the right answer. “You’re not stalking me, are you?”

“Stalking is such an ugly word.” He tilted his head, his expression almost amused. “Let’s just say… I find you interesting.”

Your stomach flipped, and not in a romantic way at all. “Right. Well, maybe don’t ‘find me’ again, okay?” you say, giving emphasis to the ‘find me’ with your two index and middle fingers on both hands.

He took a step closer, and you immediately regretted not leaving sooner. “I have a proposition,” he said smoothly, ignoring your obvious discomfort.

“Another game?” you guessed.

“Not quite.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out something that made your heart race—a single piece of folded paper. Ddakji.

“Nope, no way,” you said, backing away. “I’m not doing this again.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his smile widening. “This time, the stakes are higher.”

Then you stopped. Halted in your position. “You really wanna try again after losing? You’ve got guts. Or maybe you’re just dumb. Who knows?”

He rolled his eyes at you and pulled out the same two tiles. 

“Oh! You’ve got another one,” you mentioned, reminding him of the night.

“Yea yea… let’s start,” he demanded.

To your surprise, you won again. Well, won most of the rounds. He seemed a bit frustrated at the outcome. 

“What? You upset?” you tease.

“...” 

He didn’t respond. 

You flipped the tile in your hands again, a smug grin plastered on your face. “You know, for someone who’s so insistent on playing, you’re really not that good at this.”

His jaw tightened, but the polite smile stayed in place. “Luck doesn’t last forever, ma’am.”

“Maybe not, but it sure seems to be holding up today,” you say while stuffing your winnings into your pocket. “Thanks for the cash, by the way. It’s not everyday someone bankrolls my coffee addiction.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead adjusting his cuffs with an almost mechanical precision. You could tell he was trying not to let your teasing get to him.

“So,” you continued, leaning against a nearby tree, “is this what you do for fun? Wander around challenging strangers to games you’re bad at?”

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “I wouldn’t say I’m bad.”

“Oh? The scoreboard says otherwise,” you shot back, gesturing to the imaginary tally in the air. “I’m up by, what, a hundred rounds?”

His smile faltered for the shortest moment, and you felt a spark of triumph. “You’re quite the character,” he said finally, his tone more measured.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said, shrugging. “Anyway, thanks for the game. I’ll be sure to tell my friends about the weird guy in the park who hands out money for getting owned at ddakji.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You won’t have to. They’ll find out for themselves.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t answer, instead stepping closer and plucking the tile from your hand with surprising speed. You blinked at the empty space where it had been.

“Hey! That’s mine!” you protested.

“Consider it a rematch token,” he said, tucking the tile neatly into his pocket. “When you’re ready to lose, find me.”

“Lose? You’re delusional,” you scoffed.

He gave you a slight bow, his polished demeanor back in full force. “Until next time, ma’am.”

And just like that, he turned and walked away, leaving you with a mix of irritation and amusement.

“Next time, I’m taking your shoes too!” you called after him.

He raised a hand in a lazy wave but didn’t look back.

You shook your head, letting out a breathy laugh. “What a weirdo.”

Still, as you walked back to your bench, you found yourself wondering if there really would be a next time. And if there was, you weren’t planning to lose.

—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Three consecutive knocks at your door. You wondered who it was. You hesitated for a moment, eyeing the door warily. It was late, and you hadn’t been expecting anyone. You didn’t have many visitors… well, actually, you had no visitors, except for the occasional delivery or perhaps a neighbor. The knocks repeated again, a bit harsher this time.

"Who the hell is it?" you muttered under your breath before rising from the couch and moving cautiously towards the door. Then you peeked through the peephole, but the hallway was empty.

A chill ran down your spine, and for a moment, you considered not answering. Maybe it was just some mistake, or a knock meant for someone else. But then the thoughts of being too paranoid crept in, and you didn’t want to seem like an idiot ignoring a visitor.

You pulled the door open a bit, just enough to see who was there.

And behold, there he was—the ddakji guy. Of course. How the heck did he dodge the peephole? He’s quite tall.

His smile was as unnerving as always, that same polite grin he always wore that never failed to send a shiver through you. He was standing there, holding a small black briefcase in his right hand. His suit, crisp as always, was illuminated by the light, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something about his presence wasn’t exactly… safe. 

“Ah, I knew you were home,” he said, as if he’d known the entire time you were debating whether or not to open the door.

“Are you… stalking me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, trying to maintain your composure despite the strange situation.

“Stalking is such a harsh word,” he said smoothly, giving his usual tilt of the head. “I still much prefer… coincidence… or fate,”

You crossed your arms, still not entirely convinced. “Fate? That sounds like a line you use on people before you scam them into some ridiculous deal.”

He chuckled lightly. “I assure you, no deals. Just a proposition.” He took a step closer, his presence suddenly more intimidating than before. “I’ve come to finish what we started.”

You frowned, the memory of your last meeting flashing through your mind. From the look on his face after you won the game, and the way he seemed so nonchalant about everything.

“I’m pretty sure I already finished it,” you shot back, trying to sound unaffected. “I won. You lost. End of story.”

He didn’t seem fazed by your resistance. “Maybe. But I don’t think it’s over just yet. You see, I have another game in mind. One you might find… more interesting.”

You were about to shut the door, but then he grabbed hold of the side to stop you.

“Just wait a second,” he said, his strength much overpowering yours.

What the hell was this guy’s deal?

You frowned, the memory of your last meeting flashing through your mind. From the look on his face after you won the game, and the way he seemed so nonchalant about everything. But now... there was something in his eyes. Something darker. And it made your breath catch in your throat.

"How many times do I have to say it?I’m pretty sure I already finished it," you shot back, trying to sound as mean as possible to shoo him away, but you couldn’t silence the sound of your heart pounding loudly in your chest. "I won. You lost. End of story."

He didn’t seem fazed by your resistance. In fact, his smile only widened, an almost predatory glint in his eyes.

"Maybe. But I don’t think it’s over just yet. You see, I have another game in mind. One you might find… much more interesting."

Your breath hitched as he stepped closer. Too close. The air around you suddenly felt thick and heavy. Before you could react, he reached up, his fingers lightly brushing against your arm as he held the door open just a little wider, his grip surprisingly strong.

“Just wait a second,” he said in that low, smooth voice, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "This time, there’s no escape."

You swallowed hard, a mix of confusion and arousal swirling inside you. Why was he doing this? Why were you still standing there? Why was your body betraying you, craving something you couldn’t quite put into words?

You tried to back away, but he was already pressing himself into the doorway, the scent of his cologne filling your senses. He leaned in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His hand reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering a little too long.

“I told you,” he whispered, his voice low and rough now. “I don’t lose.”

Before you could say anything, he closed the distance completely and pressed his lips into yours. It was fierce, demanding, his hands on your waist pulling you closer, the pressure of his body sending shockwaves through you. You gasped into the kiss, feeling the heat intensify as he deepened it, his tongue sweeping into your mouth.

Your hands, on instinct, found their way to his chest, but he was already guiding you back into your apartment, the door falling closed behind him with a soft thud. You barely noticed it as your body reacted to him. Instinctively, your hands were pulling him closer, your legs weak with need.

He paused only for a moment, pulling back just enough to look at you. The lust in his eyes made your pulse race. “You wanted a challenge, right?” he said, his voice husky. “Let’s see how far you’re willing to go now.”

And then, with a swift motion, he pushed you back against the wall, and his hands started to explore your body, touching every part of you. You let out a breathless laugh, caught between the strange tension and the undeniable pull between you two. You felt the weight of him press against you, the tent unmistakable in his pants.

“I think you’ve already won,” you said, breathless, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Is that so?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. He pulled back slightly, giving you a look that sent a jolt of desire straight to your core. “Then let’s see if you’re ready to finish this game.”

His lips gradually moved to your neck, kissing and biting softly as his hands slid beneath your clothes, feeling the smoothness of your skin. Every touch made you shiver, every kiss igniting a fire within you. You gasped as his hands worked their way down, finding the heat between your legs, making you ache for him even more.

Without another word, he slowly undid your clothing, his movements deliberate and controlled, yet full of hunger. His lips trailed down your body, each touch, each caress, sending you into a spiral. By the time his hands found their way to your most sensitive spots, you were already a mess, your body aching for more.

“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice dark and velvety, as he hovered above you, his fingers teasing just at the edge of what you needed. You nodded, too far gone to hold back any longer.

"Then let's finish what we started," he says. 

The game is much simpler now. The only rule being… the first to cum loses.

[polarisjisung]

ꨄ X-O, KISS ME, DON'T SAY NO

KISSES WITH ENHYPEN

pairings: enha x fem! reader genre: fluff wc: 1k warnings: use of petnames, slightly suggestive notes: I wrote this for dream had to do it for enha too ! | LIBRARY

HEESEUNG — desperate, flirty kisses

A simple peck doesn't exist for Heeseung. You're like his drug, once he gets a taste, he's addicted. Quick morning kisses are impossible. One peck on your forehead easily turns into a full makeout session and suddenly you're late for work. And not for a second is Heeseung worried about your impending anger, instead he'll try and convince you to call in sick, no work meant more time for kisses, right?

“Heeseung, I have places to be” You know it's no use arguing but you seem to try anyway.

You'd been in this situation countless times before, and it ended the same way each time. In your defence, Heeseung was pretty good at convincing.

“Yeah, want me to list a few?”

Something about a kiss-driven Heeseung is so exceptionally flirty. You both know that you're never getting out of this your way. “My arms, the bed, against the wall if you're into that.

Okay maybe you didn't take much convincing either.

“All of the above?”

Heeseung can't dispute that.

JAY — forehead kisses

Jay's kisses are spontaneous, but so tender and loving, like a scene cut out straight from a high school romance.

You're perched up on the sofa with your nose stuck in one of those picture-perfect romance books you love so much.

Jay can barely make out your face from the material of the hood pulled over your head.

You look cute. There's a pair of blue light glasses resting on your nose and your eyebrows are furrowed with concentration. Jay couldn't help but leave a soft peck against your forehead. He takes a couple moments to just sit beside you and stare, truly wondering how he ever got so lucky.

Next thing you know, his hand moves carefully to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb positioned just under your chin, guiding you into a slow, soft kiss.

JAKE — messy kisses

Jake kisses like a man starved.

Hands tugging at your hair, arms around your waist, loud, shallow pants filling the room. It's like he can't get enough.

He pulls back to stare at you, breathless. But only for a moment.

To Jake, catching his breath seems awfully difficult when you're staring up at him with swollen lips and a sultry gaze.

“I could kiss you forever.”

His words are more a promise than a statement, and how could you not believe him when he pulls you back in so impossibly close, letting his cold fingertips run across your skin.

Both his hands cup your cheeks, passionately. Lips moving over yours with an unsteady, fervent rhythm, and so much urgency, you swear you feel your heart beat out of your chest.

Each time you kiss is like the first, brash. But Jake always holds you so tight, like he's afraid you'll disappear the second he lets go.

When he does finally pull away, Jake exhales a soft laugh, giggling almost.

“You alright?”

You can only nod, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

SUNGHOON — distracted kisses

Playful fights or debates like whether orange juice is better than apple (it's not) or whether milk comes before or after the cereal always seem to arise with you and Sunghoon.

Part of it has to do with the fact that Sunghoon thinks you look so insanely fine when you're passionately arguing your point forwards.

But somewhere along the way Sunghoon stops listening to what you're saying, eyes zeroing in on your lips when he'd come to a sudden realisation. That shade of lipstick suited you, a little too well maybe.

“Hoon, are you even listening?”

He nods, he's not listening.

He wouldn't have this problem if the lipstick wasn't there. But you were still explaining in full detail, hand gestures and everything. And as much as he loved to hear you ramble, Sunghoon could not concentrate.

He was going insane— he needed to kiss you. Now.

You don't really know why you continue, seeing as Sunghoon's clearly not present, but you can't help but gasp when he pulls you in close and crashes his lips to yours.

“You're right, I wasn't listening”

JUNGWON — soft morning kisses

Soft and intimate, that's what kissing Jungwon feels like.

There’s quiet whispers of ‘I love you's’ and the sweetest compliments.

Even if you've just rolled out of bed, when your hair's a mess and your eyes can barely open all the way, Jungwon thinks you're beautiful.

“Good morning my love” he presses a kiss to the back of your head, just below your ear as he slips past you on the couch, making his way to the kitchen so he can check on breakfast.

But he can only stay away for so long, running back a few minutes later with your morning coffee and a couple kisses to keep you occupied while you wait for it to cool down.

“I love you.” he'd keep it short and sweet, holding your face in hands with so much care. By the time breakfast is ready, not a single inch of your pretty face remains unkissed and that's an achievement Jungwon is insanely proud of.

SUNOO — giggly kisses

You and Sunoo are like the epitome of PDA— cuddling, quick pecks on the cheeks, always holding hands— you have to have your hands on each other at all times. It's sickeningly sweet.

And matters only get worse when your behind closed doors, Sunoo would spend all his time with his lips glued to yours if he could.

He's obsessed with you, and your strawberry flavoured chapstick is anything but helpful. He needs kisses, no matter what it is you're doing.

“Sunoo, I'm busy.” You roll your eyes at him playfully, but he only shrugs, spinning you around on your desk chair.

“Too busy for kisses?”

When you nod, it's Sunoo's turn to roll his eyes.

“Wrong answer.”

And he crashes his lips to yours just as he had intended, illiciting a few giggles from you, laughing at his urgency.

NI-KI — kisses in the rain

Kisses never last too long with riki, quick pecks, passionate and loving but short. Long kisses, something you'd both be down to try but had never actually made the effort to. It's felt scary, awkward, maybe?

The two of you always had a more easygoing relationship, so your more affectionate gestures had always been kept to a minimum.

Until one night when your car broke down and you found yourself stranded in the middle of nowhere.

Rain pelted down from the sky and the wind whistled loudly, but even so, you'd be a fool not to step out of the car and watch the sunset in person.

You and Riki sat with your legs crossed, dangerously close to the cliff edge, bodies pressed against each other as an attempt to conserve heat.

There was something about that moment— maybe the soft glow of the sky as the sun dipped just below the horizon — or the way your eyes beamed and sparkled as each strand of your hair slowly grew wet. Something so raw.

Riki couldn't even bring himself to hesitate, pulling you into his lap in one swift motion and kissing you urgently.

One hand reached back to grip your hair, and another cradled your chin, guiding your lips further into his.

Safe to say, kissing in the rain might just be his favourite.

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