#hell link your playlists too

[vault-kid]

please, what's the song you associate your fallout oc with the most? like you hear it and you immediately think of them, or feel like its them singing it, or theres an amv of them in your head .

[reiderwriter]

505

Week Four of my yearly playlist challenge!

Summary: When you fall asleep on the overnight drive between one case and the next, Spencer gets awfully distracted by your sleep talking.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Partial Spencer POV, dom!Spencer, brat!Reader, pain play (scratching, choking, spanking, etc), degradation (use of whore, slut), masturbation (m and f), orgasm denial, breeding kink, creampie, cockwarming.

A/N; Thank you to the Arctic Monkeys for fuelling my delusions and for gif makers everywhere for their services to horniness. This was the first playlist fic chosen from a recommended song, so if you enjoyed it, don't forget to send me more song recommendations for the playlist!~

Masterlist || Playlist

Spencer was never the most confident driver in the BAU, but between the two of you, he was the only one who possessed a licence. 

Which is how he found himself driving through the night with you asleep in his passenger seat, trying not to be distracted by the small whimpers and sighs dropping from your mouth. 

You'd been sent across state lines to investigate a recent homicide that may have been linked with your current case, and now that you'd deemed it relevant to your case, you were driving back to the rest of the team with all the documents you needed in tow. 

He'd been happy to drive when you left, with the sky black and the air cold, knowing that the country roads that would lead you just over the border would be practically empty. He'd even been content to let you sleep the majority of the journey, having noticed how little sleep you'd managed to get so far on this case. 

He'd been happy until your lips parted and you'd whispered his name in a moan. 

He'd thought you were awake at that moment and assumed you were about to ask where you were or what time it was. But you hadn't opened your eyes, and your breaths were still even and steady. 

You did it again five minutes later, and the gentle sound hit the hairs on the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine that settled comfortably in his now tight pants. 

‘Shit,’ he thought, sparing a glance at you whilst keeping his hands comfortable at 10 and 2, his posture rigid as he willed other parts of his body to relax. 

Your legs had splayed open, your hand having fallen unconsciously between them for some kind of relief. He didn't let his thoughts linger where his eyes had fallen. 

He tried to convince himself that you were just dreaming about a case. Maybe he'd been shot in your dream, and you'd felt sad. Maybe your moans were ones of sorrow. 

“Spencer, fuck…”

Maybe he was going to hell for the thoughts flooding his brain because he wanted nothing more than to slide a hand into your pants and start giving you the relief you so blatantly begged for. 

He settled for turning into the next motel he saw advertised on the road. Hotch had told them, of course, that they could rest up for the night if needed, but he'd been too eager to get on the road while it was clear. But with his mind fogged with less than ideal thoughts, and your obviously aching body moaning beside him, a motel honestly couldn't hurt. 

You woke up slowly as he parked the car, the lack of motion wearily drawing you from your dream. He looked across at you and let out a sigh of relief to see you conscious. 

He'd been willing to carry you to whatever room you'd get, but he didn't know whether his hands would linger over your body. Wouldn't know if he'd be able to retract his hands at all if you reacted like that in your sleep. 

Now you were awake and looking at him, talking to him even, but all he could think about was whether you'd react better to his touch when awake. How could he get you to moan his name again, and how loud would you dare do it?

“Spence? Hello, are you listening?”

“What?” 

“Okay, I'm glad you pulled off the road if you're so tired you're not even hearing me speak,” you laughed a little, and the sound shot straight to his cock. 

Your voice was thick with sleep, and the phantom of his name hung on your lips, having been the last words to drop from your tongue. He usually had better control of himself. 

“Yeah, let's go get some sleep. You sounded pretty tired, too.” 

“Sounded?” You asked, and he watched your face warp in gentle confusion. He bit his tongue, trying to retract the statement, choosing the cold, biting winter air over the sight of you with a pout on your lips. 

His brain was addled with thoughts of those two plump cushions pouting around his cock as he held your hair back and- and yes, the cold air was definitely necessary. 

���You stretch your legs, I'll go organise the room,” you said, climbing out of your side of the car. He nodded along, not trusting his voice not to break like a prepubescent boy and turning his back to you, not trusting his eyes to linger awkwardly on your ass. 

It seemed like seconds, and then you were back leading him to the rooms you'd booked. 

When you unlocked only one door, with only one key, however, Spencer found all the progress of the last few minutes squashed immediately. 

“We're sharing?” He hung around the door, not sure whether to step inside or just resign himself to sleeping in the car. He made a mental note to grab some tissues before heading back out to the car if this conversation ended the way he thought it would. 

“Yeah, they only had one room cleaned and ready right now. It's fine, right? We've shared rooms on cases before.” 

You’d shared rooms on cases before, but never after he'd driven for nearly a half hour listening to you moan his name. He'd usually been too exhausted after full days of work and had regrettably fallen asleep first each time you'd been roommates. 

“Yeah, it's cool.” He cleared his throat, trying to make the octave jump his voice had just made it seem like a symptom of some kind of sickness he was coming down with. 

“Great, let me just go shower quickly, and then we can get into bed.” 

Warnings signals rang throughout his head, but he still sat patiently listening to the water running in the shitty motel bathroom. Grabbing his go bag, he readied himself for sleep, trying to ignore the fact that you were hot and wet and naked just a wall away and that he could hear everything. 

Every sigh you released, every trickle of water running across your skin. Every mumble of his name. 

Again, he thought he'd imagined it, but now he was sure you were torturing him. 

Your gasps of air were less innocent than they were four minutes ago, chest having faster and faster, and he thought it was clear that your hand covered your mouth to make you less audible. He didn't know what you were doing, but it didn't matter much to his cock, which had stiffened painfully once again. Unconsciously, his hand reached for it, needing to give himself some release. He'd already pulled off his slacks and put on his baggier sleep pants, which did nothing to hide his affliction. 

Instead, it was somehow more obvious, painfully so. And his hand was pawing at it through the thin material, chasing that high that you yourself were likely close to in the bathroom. 

It was only when the shower shut off once more that he realised how fogged his brain had been. His cock throbbed in his hand, and it certainly wasn't going down anytime soon, and you'd be out of the bathroom in minutes if not seconds. 

With no other choice, he dived under the bed sheets and pulled them up across his chest, too, and began to pretend to sleep. 

When the light spilt from the bathroom, he screwed his eyes shut tighter, even as his brain willed him to sneak a look at you. 

But he held firm, telling himself that he just needed to wait for you to fall asleep and then he'd relieve himself. 

At least those were his plans until he felt the dip in the bed, the movement of his sheets, and the warmth spreading across the bed from you to him. 

You'd climbed into bed right next to him. Your ass was mere centimetres away from his crotch, and he shuddered in pleasure. Shuddered. 

He tried to keep his breathing still, even, and he really thought after a few minutes that you too had fallen asleep. It was all but impossible as your body cuddled in closer to his and he found your ass pressed comfortably against his straining cock. 

“Y/N, you need to move,” he warned, breath shooting out of him as he resisted digging his hands into your breasts and holding you tight so you couldn't move. 

“I don't want to,” you replied sleepily, either not noticing the danger you were in or not caring. 

His hands rested on your hips, trying to press you just slightly away so his own hips could scoot back, but you clung to his heat. 

“It's cold in here, Spencer, and you're like a furnace right now.” With those pouty words, you turned your body around and wrapped your hips up and around his body. He scooted back as you did, though, just an inch too far, and instead of landing softly against his chest, the two of you landed in a tangled mess on the floor. 

“Spencer,” you moaned again, this time in shock, as you perhaps finally felt his aching length poking the inside of your thigh. 

He'd dampened your fall on the way down, clasping you to him as he flailed in the air for a few seconds, bringing his downfall on faster with your ass cupped in his palms. 

“Fuck, Spencer, you're so hard.” His dick twitched at the sound of your tired voice pressed against his ear. 

You pulled away slowly, head peeking down between you, trying to catch a glimpse of his still hardening cock between the two of you. 

“Don't look, it'll get harder,” he grunted, grasping your hips harder and trying to catch your attention again. But that just had you grinding down into his hips again, and your mouth widened in that perfect ‘o’ as you felt the desperation and need drip from him. 

“Spencer,” you said, hips reacting slowly at first as they kept up the small movements of pressing down on him and lifting your hips slightly to do so again. 

You were grinding your cunt into his hard cock, pinning him to the ground and using his body to get yourself off. 

It was the most deliriously arousing thing he'd ever born witness to. 

“Y/N, stop it before you regret it.” His tone was a warning, but his words came out at barely a whisper. You didn't even bother with a reply. 

“Y/N, please I mean it-” 

“Spencer, fuck-” you moaned for the last time before he pushed you to the ground and pressed his lips against yours. 

He'd hit his limit, and now he was going to reach his reward. 

He ran his hands up to the waistband of your sleep shorts and quickly tugged them down, lips not leaving yours as he forced his tongue into your mouth. Your moans were throaty now, and they were loud, your brain so delirious with just you'd completely bypassed any shy feelings. 

After making quick work of your pants, he grabbed your hand in his and moved it over his throbbing cock, showing you what it was you needed from him. 

“Stroke it.” 

You did. Sliding a hand into his pants, you gripped him firmly in your hand and gently ran your fingers up and down his tip, more teasing than anything solid. 

Spencer didn't complain, though, knowing he wouldn't last that long if you took your job as seriously as he was about to take his. 

“Spread your legs. Now.” 

You weren't sure what it was about his tone, but you complied easily. His fingers reached out, and he almost sent up a prayer as his fingers came into contact with your wet, heat. You were so aroused. 

“Did you dream about me? Earlier in the car?” He questioned, two fingers slipping easily inside your pussy as his thumb traced your clit.

“Y-Yes.” 

“Did you think about me in the shower?” 

“Spencer, I can expl-” 

“Answer me. Please.” 

“Yes.” 

“You were touching yourself thinking about me, knowing I could hear just how much of a slut you were through these walls. You wanted this, Y/N.” 

He increased his pace as your eyes clouded over, your already sleepy countenance looking decidedly more ready for release and rest. 

But he wasn't in a giving mood. 

“What an impolite little whore,” he whispered in your ear, withdrawing his hands completely and picking himself up from the floor. 

Your eyes shot open in confusion and pain as he sat himself on the edge of the bed. You watched his movements, saw him pull his still erect cock from his pants and begin stroking himself, and quickly organised your limps into a kneeling position by his feet. 

He watched you closely as you let your head fall onto his thigh, your eyes following each pump of his hand up and down, and up and down. 

“Spencer, please fuck me,” you pleaded with him, trying to resist the temptation to wrap your legs around his and hump his leg like a real bitch in heat. Though he'd probably greatly enjoy the view. 

“Why should I?” 

“Because if you don't, I'm going to sit here and finger myself until I pass out from exhaustion. And then I'm going to request a room with you on every other case this year and do it all over again.” 

“You're manipulative, you know that?” 

“I just know what I want, Spencer.” 

“Then come and take it.” 

Though he told you to come to him, it was his hand on your neck that guided you to your place in his lap. 

It was his hand on his cock that lined himself up with your cunt. It was his hips that snapped up into yours as he finally took you. 

But it was your lips that screamed his name as he fucked you roughly. 

Each thrust was most intense than the last, deeper, harder, faster.

You clawed at his hair, you bit his bottom lip when your mouths Mey again. You clawed your nails across his shoulders and back. 

He pressed you back into the mattress, and you wrapped your legs around him one more time, urging him to stay right there for the rest of the night. 

His hands found your breasts, and he grabbed them again, roughly.

It was finally too much, and, as he pinched down on your nipple hard to see that beautiful mix of pleasure and pain one more time, you came around his cock, heat spreading out of you in waves as your thighs twitched under the weight of sheathing him. 

“I'm going to cum, Y/N, I'm going to cum,” he dragged his teeth across your neck, whispering the words like a prayer. 

You couldn't reply, mouth so heavy with lust your tongue couldn't move if his wasn't forcing it. 

“I'm going to cum inside you,” he whispered again, his voice a growl of pleasure as your eyes shot open again. 

All you could do was moan his name as he painted your cunt white, pressing his entire weight down on you without a care in the world. 

You remained locked in that embrace for a long moment, your body tired and brain similarly diminished. Trusting him to take care of things, you let your eyes droop closed and let sleep consume you. 

Your last thought was on his weight still pressed into yours, and the fact that he was still yet to pull out of you and spill his well-placed seed.

[moonlightspencie]

hands that make hell seem cold

Description: Friends to lovers, emphasis on lovers.

Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ only!: porn with almost no plot, p in v, brief mention of a breeding kink

Word Count: 3.2k

link to the spotify playlist

James took a deep breath, looking around his space.

He'd been cleaning all day long. Not really for any reason other than his mates coming over later that night.

He propped his hands on his hips, scrutinizing his own work for a moment.

"Good," he mumbled softly to himself, nodding as he walked back into the kitchen.

He busied himself picking up all the towels he'd used, and set a kettle on the stove for a cup of tea when he finished. He threw the towels in a hamper in the laundry room of his flat, and went back to the kitchen, waiting mindlessly on the kettle to start whistling.

Though, that's when he heard a knock on his door. He frowned a little, not expecting anyone over for another hour or two. He shuffled over to the door, opening it to see an unexpected face.

His smile grew. "Baby!"

"Hi, angel," she smiled back at him, walking past him and into his flat.

He chuckled, shutting the door, then turning to watch her take her shoes off very impatiently. He was practically bouncing by the time she finished and turned to him.

“Okay,” she opened her arms with a laugh, letting him practically tackle her.

He squeezed her into a crushing hug, knocking her off her feet, only protecting her from falling with the intensity of the embrace.

“James,” she chuckled, voice muffled by his chest. “You’re squishing me.”

“Mm,” he hummed absentmindedly, still holding her for a moment. “I missed you.”

“Me too,” she said, then kissed his shoulder once as he loosened his grip. “But you know how things are. I’ve gotta visit home sometimes. My family does like to see me on occasion, you know?”

“I know, love,” he mumbled, kissing her forehead. “But can’t they just come here instead?”

“They do on occasion. But I love being home, even if I still want to be around you more,” she winked.

James giggled, squeezing her again. “You flatter me.”

“I know. That’s kind of the point, Jamie.”

James smiled, his cheeks a little rosy as he looked at her. It had really only been a couple of weeks since she’d been around, but it felt like forever. He’d always had a soft spot for the girl, but it seemed to have intensified in the past months. Sure, they were still friends, but… there was something else there. He just didn’t want to be the first to admit it. Lately, he’d been thinking about it, though.

He sighed softly. “Uh… the boys are supposed to be over tonight.”

“Oh! Well, that’ll be fun. I’ll make sure to head out before they show up, then.” 

“What?” He furrowed his brow in question.

“I’ll… make sure I’m not interrupting–”

“You’re not!” he cut her off, shaking his head.

Her brows raised, a small chuckle leaving her lips. “You sure?”

“‘Course I am! Don’t worry about it,” he smiled, shrugging a little. “Here, let’s go sit. I wanna hear all about your trip.”

He grabbed her hand, practically dragging her behind him to the living room. She shook her head in amusement, letting him pull her along without a hint of resistance until he’d sat them both down with not a centimeter of space between them.

“How were mum and dad?”

“Good, mostly,” she replied, not batting an eye as he slung an arm around her shoulders. “Mom’s been a little under the weather, but it’s nothing she can’t handle. You held down the fort here without me, then?”

“Barely,” he feigned a pout. “Could’ve fallen apart if you were gone one more day.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she laughed, leaning into him.

“Only ‘cause I love you.”

“Mhm,” she snorted. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“Can’t help it.”

“You never can.”

“Yeah,” he grinned, then kissed her forehead again. “God, you got even prettier. What were they feeding you over there?”

“Nothing you’d like, I’m sure.”

He laughed. “Probably not. But seriously, love… wow.”

She snorted a laugh, looking at him curiously. “When did you become such a flirt?”

“Please, you love it,” he chuckled, then shot her a sideways glance. “You love it, right?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Good,” he breathed out, then straightened up as a terrible whistling came from the kitchen. “Shit.”

She laughed as he shot up and hustled into the kitchen, following after him and watching as he grabbed his oven mit to take the kettle off the stovetop. She leaned against the doorframe, smiling to herself as he quickly pulled down two mugs and tea bags, preparing them both. He always put the tiniest bit too much sugar in hers, but she’d never complain to him. She accepted gratefully as he put a mug in her hand.

“There you are,” he muttered, then leaned against the counter. “Almost forgot that was on the stove.”

“Almost? James, you jumped up and practically ran in here.”

“...Shut up,” he hid a smile behind his mug, trying to take a sip before quickly moving away from the steam. “Hot.”

“Yeah, you are,” she muttered, barely thinking about it as it passed her lips.

His cheeks turned pink again. “You’re bound and determined to make me blush, aren’t you?”

“You’re cute when you blush,” she grinned, poking one of his cheeks. “You know I like to tease you.”

“Yeah, I know,” he rolled his eyes in response, but there was no malice behind it. He sighed softly, then let his eyes wander back to her. “Seriously, how did you get hotter?”

“Oh, and I’m the one trying to make you blush, huh?”

He giggled again. “Maybe we’re both guilty.”

She hid a smirk, shaking her head at him again. She glanced down at her still-steaming mug, then back at his face. His wide eyes and his lip pulled between his teeth. She had decided that it was incredibly annoying how attractive he was. 

“James?”

“Yeah, love?” he responded immediately, his eyes widening in question.

She smiled again, unable to stop herself this time. “God, you’re fucking annoying. I say that with love.”

“Annoying?”

“You’re annoyingly hot.”

He looked away, his cheeks only warming further. He set his mug on the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. A move that she thought was very distracting.

“Can I ask you a question, love?” he asked after a beat.

“Of course.”

He glanced at her again. “Well… what do you think of me?”

“Huh?”

“Like… duh, we’re friends. But… like..”

“Like…?”

“Do you think we’d be, like… good together?”

She quirked a brow. “As in…?”

He groaned. “Like us. Together.”

“You mean like… together?”

“Duh.”

“I mean– Well, I haven’t… I can’t say that I’ve never thought about it,” she admitted quietly.

He sighed softly, looking at her carefully for a few moments. She looked right back, unsure what to do next after that. He wasn’t quite sure either, turning over that information in his head. She set her mug next to his on the counter, not wanting to hold it if they were going to keep standing there having that kind of conversation. He watched her as she moved closer to set her tea down, feeling a little restless as her perfume wafted up to him in a wave.

“Fuck it,” he huffed out, moving to put his hands on her cheeks, crashing his lips into hers. 

Usually, he might not be so forward. But she was so fucking tempting, it was almost a crime to not kiss her at this point. And it felt good.

She froze up at first, a bit shocked that he’d gone and kissed her. Though, it didn’t take long before she gained her senses again and kissed him back like she was born to do it. He moaned into the kiss, nipping at her lip, pulling her flush against his body with his arms wrapped around her waist.

“James…” she mumbled against him, not really for any reason other than to feel his name on her lips.

He kissed along her cheek and jaw, mumbling in her ear, “I really missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” she breathed out.

He groaned, biting her neck gently before sucking on the skin. He attached himself there until he’d left a dark mark, determined to make her remember how it felt to kiss him.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for ages,” he muttered, kissing all the way back up her neck.

“Really?”

“Yeah…” he kissed her lips again, then pulled back to look at her face. “I think… maybe for a year, now. You’re just… you know I’ve always thought you were hot.”

“I didn’t know you wanted to fuck me,” she laughed.

“Who said I did?”

She scoffed, her mouth dropping open. “You dick!”

He giggled. “Couldn’t help it. But… I definitely do. Really bad.”

She hummed, glancing down at his lips again. “So… a year, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“When did that start?”

He smirked. “When I realized my best friend was insanely hot and I was crazy to not want more. But… Well, the day we all went to the beach and I saw you in that itty bitty bikini definitely helped.”

“You perv,” she laughed, smacking his arm lightly.

“I already love your personality, what else was I supposed to say?” he defended himself with a chuckle.

“Whatever,” she snorted, pulling him back in and kissing him, much more softly this time.

He sighed against her lips, happy to finally know what she felt like in this way. He let his mouth open for her as she slid her tongue against his bottom lip, groaning into the kiss as he felt her tongue against his. He followed her lead for a moment before taking control of the kiss, backing her against the kitchen counter.

Her lower back hit the counter, and she smiled against his lips, letting him push her onto the counter. He stood between her legs, letting his hands travel up her thighs.

“What, are you gonna fuck me in the kitchen? Not super romantic, James,” she laughed.

“Mm. I’d take you anywhere. We’ll have time for romance later,” he replied easily, kissing down her neck, nipping at her collarbone.

His hands slid under her shirt, feeling her stomach. “God, you’re perfect.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I mean it,” he asserted, pushing her top up and off of her, letting it drop to the floor. He took her in with a dreamy sigh. “Wow.”

She smiled. “It’s not that special.”

“Says you,” he glanced at her, scrunching up his face in distaste at her blase attitude about her body. His hands wandered over her skin, feeling her tummy, her ribs, her breasts. “You’re a damn angel, love.”

“You’re sweet.”

He hummed, tugging off his own shirt before going back to just feeling her. After a few moments, he couldn’t handle not seeing more of her. He let his hands wander again, reaching around her back to pull off that pesky bra. He let that drop onto the slowly growing pile of clothes on the ground. He reached up again, experimentally squeezing her breasts, feeling himself grow painfully hard against his jeans.

“See? This is all I could think about when you were in that stupid, gorgeous bikini of yours, love. And I was right. You’re incredible underneath it all,” he mumbled, locked in on feeling her chest. 

His mouth watered at the sight of her, topless on his kitchen counter. His pretty best friend perched up there just for him to see and feel. He started kissing down her chest, stopping at one of her nipples, his tongue swirling around the swollen bud before he sucked it gently into his mouth.

She let out a small, breathy sound as she watched him with his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure from sucking on her. He looked so pretty and desperate like that. She ran a hand up his arm, tangling her hand in his hair. 

“God, you’re eager,” she breathed out, a small laugh passing her lips.

“You’re fucking sexy’s why,” he mumbled against her skin, moving his lips to the other breast.

She sighed, her eyes fluttering shut from pleasure as he kissed and sucked at her tits, gently groping one with his hand as his mouth worked over the other. He slowly started moving his lips down, kissing along her ribs and stomach.

“You’d look real pretty pregnant, you know? I’ve thought about that a few times,” he mumbled, nipping the skin of her stomach.

“James…” she groaned.

“Sorry love. Can’t help myself,” he apologized, though they both knew he didn’t mean it. “Just wanna make you mine, ya’ know? Plus, we’d have pretty babies.”

He smiled again as another sound left her lips, his hands working to tug off her pants. He pulled them down her legs, kissing back up her leg once he’d dropped the pants on the floor.

“As much as I’d love to taste you, doll, I think that might have to wait. If I start, I won't be able to stop,” he said softly, kissing up her thigh. “You even smell perfect.”

“God, James. You’re such a slut,” she smirked a little.

“Only for you, baby,” he said, his dimple poking in his cheek as he stood straight.

He cradled her head in his hands, looking over her face for a moment before he leaned in to kiss her again, his lips moving soft and slow over hers. She held onto his biceps as he kissed her, feeling them move and flex under her palms as he dropped his hands to start pulling off her panties. He did it slowly, teasingly, until he’d pulled them off her legs entirely, letting them fall to the ground. He pulled back from the kiss, looking over her bare body.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he whispered, eyes trailing over her. “Pretty girl. I love you.”

She smiled. “I love you, too, Jamie.”

He kissed her again through a grin. “You’re the best friend ever, too. For the record.”

“I better be after this,” she laughed.

He chuckled along with her, pulling his pants and boxers down in one go. She let out a small noise of satisfaction, seeing him all naked and beautiful.

“God damn, James. No wonder the girls like you so much.”

He giggled at that. “I always thought it was my personality.”

“Sure,” she teased, pulling him in for another kiss.

He groaned into it, his hands wandering up and down over her body, feeling her soft curves under his skin. He let one of his hands reach down, slowly stroking his leaky cock, stepping closer to the apex of her thighs. 

“Is this okay?” he whispered against her lips.

“Yeah. Please,” she nodded, breathing him in.

He shuddered, dragging himself along her slit before pressing at her entrance. He whined softly, barely pushing in.

“God…” he breathed out desperately, pressing his forehead against hers. He moaned softly, pulling a similar sound from her lips as he pushed into her, letting her heat envelop him. “You feel so good, love.”

“Yeah,” she groaned, her arms around his shoulders.

He pushed himself in all the way, a soft needy sound coming from him as he stilled for a moment before pulling out and repeating that motion slowly. They breathed each others’ air as James pushed his hips into hers slowly, almost teasingly, getting used to how she felt around him. He’d dreamed of fucking her a million times before, but there was nothing that could prepare him for how she really felt.

She dropped her head in his neck, feeling impossibly full. He wasn’t the biggest she’d ever seen in her life, but fuck if he didn’t feel like it. Not to mention the fact that his cock was gorgeous, and the mere thought of it dragging in and out of her had her feeling dizzy.

“Fuck, love,” he moaned, suddenly pulling her off the counter. “I need more.”

She chuckled breathily, though she whined softly as he pulled out.

“Wha–”

“Shhh…” he shook his head, spinning her around and bending her over the kitchen counter.

She let out a shuddering breath, a grin on her face as her breasts hit the cold counter, his hand pressing down on her lower back. He pushed back into her immediately with an animalistic grunt, picking up the pace immediately.

“You’re perfect,” he grit out, gripping her hips with one hand, pushing down on her back with the other. “Feel so perfect around me, baby.”

“Yes,” she moaned, her voice broken and needy as she pressed her hands against the counter, unable to do anything else.

He pounded into her, her hips hitting the edge of the counter with every thrust. Usually, he’d care much more about her safety and comfort, but he couldn’t bring himself to care with the sweet sounds she made for him every time his hips snapped against her ass. 

“James,” she said, her voice whiny.

“Yeah, babe?”

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum.”

“Already?” he smirked, pounding into her harder.

She merely moaned in response, her eyes fluttering shut again as he moved one of his hands around her neck. He didn’t put any pressure on her, but it forced her to arch her back more, letting him hit a slightly different angle.

“God, Jamie…” she whimpered, her body suddenly convulsing, pulsing around him without warning.

He groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he fucked her through it, loving the way she felt squeezing him like that. 

“Shit, baby,” he said through a gasp, his hips beginning to stutter in their movements.

He let her drop against the counter again, gripping onto her hips with both hands, pulling her back against him with every thrust. He lost himself in pleasure, pushing himself into her with vigor until he couldn’t hold back anymore. He pulled out of her cunt, using his hand to stroke himself a few times before he was finishing on her ass, watching thick ropes of his cum cover her skin. He barely held himself upright as he watched it happen, breathing heavy from the effort until he was completely spent.

He braced himself on the counter with both hands. “Fuck, baby.”

She laughed softly through a whimper. “Y-yeah. Fuck.”

“You’re… God damn, love. You’re perfect,” he smiled to himself, catching his breath as he looked down at her body again. “Never thought I’d get to see you like this. All covered in my cum.”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, chuckling quietly. “But… maybe get me a towel? It’s starting to get cold.”

“Gross,” he snorted a laugh, moving to get a towel from one of the cabinets in the kitchen, dampening it with warm water. “Good thing we’re in the kitchen. Easy to clean up.”

“I guess,” she laughed as he wiped her clean of his seed. “Maybe next time you can just cum in me.”

He paused, his eyes widening. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” she nodded easily.

“Shit, you’re sexy,” he mumbled, finishing cleaning her off. “Okay, love. All clean.”

“Thanks,” she said, standing straight.

They looked at one another for a moment, both quite satisfied with what they’d done, before she started picking up her clothes.

“So… the boys will be here soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he answered, laughing a little at her switch in topic. “Yeah, they will.”

“How long?”

He shrugged. “Maybe an hour.”

She nodded, pulling on her panties. “How long are they staying?”

“Until dinner time, I suppose.”

“Cool…” she nodded with feigned nonchalance.

He smiled a bit, looking at her with a raised brow. “What have you got planned?”

“With you? Everything,” she smirked.

[see-arcane]

See Arcane's Scribbles Substack

Do you like classic horror literature? Do you have a below-average fear of disembodied eyes staring at you from the screen while you try to read? Then have I got the Substack for you!

Mine. It’s my Substack. See Arcane’s Scribbles is where I’ll be compiling a number of preview chapters for works-in-progress as well as a few other eerie odds and ends that might not end up on Tumblr. It’s a hell of a lot easier to scroll through and you can chuck a little support my way too. Hope you’ll give it a gander! Likewise for my official author site.

The Vampyres and Harker

The Vampyres (novella)

Set in the modern day, one very practiced bastard of a bloodsucker realizes that his fellow undead have started disappearing. All suddenly gone to dust and decay. Which would hardly bother him, except the entity responsible is now on his track. The eponymous Vampyre finds himself caught between a desperate investigation to uncover what this impossible psychopomp really is and making moves on an enticingly oblivious new victim he can’t wait to drain…supposing he keeps his head on his shoulders long enough to get a taste. If you're interested in a copy, check out the following links:

eBook - Print

Or to search by ISBN:

eBook: 9798218374594 - Paperback: 9798218374587

(There's also three free preview chapters in the Substack!)

Harker (WIP)

Jonathan Harker opens and closes the story of Dracula. He is the character who spends the most time with the dreaded Count in person. He is there for the torturous stay in the gothic castle, he is there when the monster preys upon his beloved, he is there at the very end of Dracula's vicious undeath. And yet, so many questions are left unanswered about Mr. Harker and what he endured between the lines. What happened in those missing dates within Castle Dracula? What happened as he ran through the Carpathians? And what was the source and result of that eerie change that came upon him on the 3rd of October? It’s about time we found out.

Ko-Fi

In case you want to drop me a buck or commission some art.

Playlists

Some tunes for your contemporary or classic undead horror of choice:

The Vampyres 🩸Harker 🩸Was Frankenstein Not the Monster?

Also I'm on Bluesky if you want to say hi. 🦋

[yeonjuns-beanie]

Blasphemous Rumours

Warnings: 18+, smut, hierophilia, sacrilegious acts, priest kink, fucking on an altar, suggestive themes in a confessional, riding a rosary(?...), hair pulling, biting, light blood play, exhibitionism, suggestive themes during mass, probably smth else but i don’t remember. nothing too crazy🧌. im debating on linking the playlist i wrote this to, but it would kinda get rid of the anonymity of this account…. ~nero :)

Father Paul Hill x female!reader

Word Count: 6.3k

You hated this fuckin ferry. 

You loved your family but you never understood why they never left that island. When you found your way out you left without a second thought. Vowing to never settle here again but that didn’t mean you’d never visit your family. Usually for the holidays you made your way back out here, but this time you just had a break in your schedule and wanted to visit. Wanting to visit didn’t trump the hatred you had for riding this fucking ferry though. 

To be completely honest you didn’t hate the ride itself but rather how the journey made you smell like a feeding bucket at Seaworld. The evening sun was gracing you with its last bit of warmth as it began to tuck itself behind the horizon. Against the cool mist of the water for a split moment, you almost understood the appeal of this lifestyle.

Almost. 

The ferry pulled up to the dock and your eyes fell on the shoreline meeting some abandoned nets and dried out seaweed. The seagulls' mews echoed as you exited the boat. Grabbing your bags you took a deep breath as your feet hit the sand and you began the trek up to your family home. 

Nothings changed. 

It’s been years and everything still looked the same. The houses, the people, hell even the smells were the same. It was uncanny. You saw the church in the distance and were relieved knowing that you could finally lay your bags down soon. As you passed the church your eyes landed on a relatively young man standing outside, a warm smile welcoming anyone that passed by. Styx-colored locks, a slender frame, and a face that looked ever so familiar. Pressing your lips together in a close-lipped smile and waved at him making a mental note to speak to him later. 

Your family’s house was only two doors down from the church and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to see them. Knocking on the front door you eagerly waited to see who would see your face first. 

“Coming!” 

You heard faintly from the other side and you were greeted by the face of your mother. 

“Y/n! Oh, honey, it’s so good to see you!” 

She embraced you immediately, nearly squeezing the life out of you. 

“Hi, Mom.” You chuckled 

Over her shoulder, you saw your little sister, Briar, smirking at you trying her best not to laugh at your current situation. Your mom pulled you into the house motioning for you to come eat dinner as you arrived just in time. 

“Please, come eat. We’ll worry about your bags later. You came just in time to go to mass with us after.”

Mass? Why so late?

“Mass? Did you guys miss it this morning or something?” 

Washing your hands you turned around to face your family as you dried them. Before you sat down at the table your dad came from around the corner physically interjecting himself into the conversation as your mom spoke. 

“No, they happen—hi dear, they happen in the evening now. A new priest has been filling in for the Monsignor. Apparently, while he left for his trip to Jerusalem he fell terribly ill. Such a shame. But Father Paul is phenomenal! I think you’ll like him.”

Your mom looked at you with a knowing smile and you knew exactly what she was teasing you about. You rolled your lips around your teeth and began to eat, swallowing a sly comment. 

After you guys finished dinner, you fixed yourself for mass. Although you weren’t religious on your own time, you did it for your family while you were here. Plus, it allowed you time to wrestle with your feelings with Christ to see if it really wasn’t for you. Your relationship with God or whoever was out there was complicated. Wildly complicated. You knew in your heart that you were a formal sinner yet you lacked the guilt that should’ve come with that. 

If anything, you relished in it. You loved being entangled with the feeling of sin, it made you feel alive. You felt so strangled as a kid with religion, as if every move you made was under scrutiny so when you found the courage to separate yourself, you may have overindulged in things that were impious in nature. 

Just as you were this evening, clad in a low-cut tank top, a hoodie, jeans, and slip-on Vans. If you felt you didn’t belong in Crockett before, you definitely visually fit the part now. Looking like a complete foreigner in comparison to everyone else. You screamed city. From your clothes, and makeup, even down to the way you spoke. You tried your best to eradicate every trace of Crockett when you left but there was one thing you couldn’t scrub away. 

God. 

God always found a way to squirm His way around your brain and tether you to this island. 

“Y/n! You ready, honey?” 

“Yeah!”

Spraying yourself with a light perfume you walked out into the front room where your family was waiting for you. Filing out the door, the walk to the church was quick which was something you despised as a kid and you could feel those same feelings bubbling up as you neared its entrance. It was as if God was mocking you, knowing that you had such an internal feud with whether or not you believed, what was right and wrong, and if you even had a sliver of faith left within you. 

Sitting down in the pews next to your family, you felt at home once the incense filled your nose. The strange feeling of comfort washing over you as memories of your childhood flashed in front of you. The tottering organ that was moments away from wood decay, the massive crucifix in the center arch of the back of the church, and the haunting glow from the warm ambient lighting had you questioning yourself once again. You swallowed the thought, deciding that nostalgic comfort was weighing out your need for logic. 

You were pulled from your thoughts as everyone around you rose to your feet and the chimes of the bell echoed through the building. It was at this point that you realized how many people were stuffed into the pews. Mass was never like this as a kid. 

He’s either the hottest thing known to man or he’s sent from God himself. 

Anticipation settled in your stomach and you fought the smile that was begging to stretch your lips. You needed to know what it was. Maybe he was just a really good preacher, and you were being facetious–or maybe you just walked into the next Jim Jones story. Either way, your eyes were glued to the hallway counting the seconds to the procession. 

As everyone around you opened their book of hymns you were fixated on the white robe that exited the side door.  You didn’t recognize either of the altar boys and for a brief moment, you wondered where the last two poor bastards ran off to. But then your eyes fell on his. His stark black hair wasn’t as neat as it was earlier today when you were walking through town. A few pieces in the front dangled over his right eyebrow and his head was bowed slightly as he walked through the pews. 

Your mind was pulled away from fully taking in the man as you were distracted by how full the church sounded. When you were younger the hymns always sounded so hollow and weak, but tonight it resembled a traditional mass. Savoring the moment of repose you felt, you found it within you to appreciate the music resonating through the building finding it somewhat odd that they were singing a hymn that sounded so haunting. 

At His feet the six-winged seraph, cherubim with sleepless eye~

Your attention drifted back to the priest where he kneeled at the steps and then bowed his head at the altar. When his head raised to stare out across the pews you felt your eyes widen slightly at the sight of him. Your mom nudged your side, smirking when you turned to look at her. 

“Told you.”

You shoved your tongue in your cheek, swiping it across your teeth as you sat back down. Mass went by in a blink considering you were completely engrossed in the man in front of you rather than his preaching. At some point, you completely tuned out his biblical orations and resorted to the simple pleasures of imagining him and yourself in various scenarios in the church. 

In the pews, across the altar, across the altar with the front door open waiting for Beverly to waltz through, in the confessio-

“Honey, come. I want you to meet Father Paul.”

Your mom tapped you on your shoulder pushing you out of your trance of thoughts. Standing up, you smoothed out your top and took a deep breath in an attempt to shake out the tension in your shoulders you most certainly built up during your daydreaming. Walking out of the church you wondered why you were leaving if she wanted you to meet the man. You turned around and noticed that he was no longer at the altar either. Stepping out to the front, your questions were soon answered as a smooth voice sounded from behind you. 

“I see we have a new face in town.” 

Your mother butt in before you had a chance to speak for yourself. Laying her hand across the small of your back introducing you to the man you just spent the better half of an hour fantasizing about. 

“For a little bit, we do, yes! This is my daughter, y/n. She usually comes around for the holidays but we got lucky this time around. This used to be her home until about two years ago.”

You stuck your hand out, Father Paul grabbing yours with a firm grip and you couldn’t help the compulsion to stare at his hand for a moment before quickly finding your mind and smiling at him.

“Nice of you to step in for the Monsignor. My mom told me you’re his stand-in for the time being.” 

“Yes. I apologize seeing as I’m not who you expected, but I assure you he’s on the road to recovery.” 

As Father Paul spoke, you couldn’t quite place why he looked and felt so familiar. You were running through files of how you could’ve possibly known him but nothing was coming out concrete. 

“Oh! No need to apologize. I quite enjoyed your sermon, it was very similar to what I was used to growing up here. It’s as if he never left.” 

You chuckled out your last sentence and suddenly nerves found themselves coursing through your body as you maintained eye contact. You were committing his face to memory. Whether it be for personal reasons in the dead of night or to try and figure out where you knew him from. You’d wrestle with that later. Right now, you were just hoping that you weren’t being painfully obvious. 

You were. 

You were bordering a fine line of staring and eye-fucking him that your mother and sister were finding absolute humor in. Your eyes flickered back and forth between his clerical collar and his face trying to shake the thoughts that were circling their way around your head. 

“Well, I’m glad that I feel so familiar to you. I hope to see more of you during your time here with us.” 

He smiled at you with such sincerity you forgot about all the lust brewing for a second. His face held so many emotions but you couldn’t place any of them. 

“You will.”

You smiled back at him, your eyes holding something a little more heavy though. You were aware of the priesthood’s celibacy and something about knowing you couldn’t have him made the feeling that more intense. Although, you didn’t miss how it seemed the feeling was reciprocated while you looked at him. Father Paul spoke, breaking the silence that you two created. 

“Well, it was very nice to meet the rest of your family, Mrs. L/N, but I am afraid that I have some matters to tend to back in my rectory. You all have a very nice night.” 

His gaze lingered as he spoke, giving you the same treatment as you did moments before and it was making you squirm on the inside. His gaze was soft but so intense and the contrariety of it left your mind racing. While you and your family said a choir of goodbyes, you watched Father Paul walk away as your family made the way back to the house. Your sister spoke up, whipping you from your thoughts. 

“At this point, you should just tell him you want to fuck him.” 

Both of your parents exclaimed your sister’s name in shock but the two of you were left laughing. 

“Oh come on, I wasn’t that bad.” 

“Y/n, you might as well have been sucking his fingers in front of us.” 

As you guys walked back into the house your mom snickered as you genuinely asked for her opinion. 

“Was I being that obvious about it?”

She paused. 

“You could be…less obvious about it.” 

You groaned in embarrassment rushing straight to your room to avoid any teasing for the night. 

“Goodnight!” 

~*~

You couldn’t sleep. You opened your phone to check the time knowing full well that it was the middle of the night. You just wanted to see how late it was. 

3:33. 

Shit. 

You let out an exasperated sigh wiping your hand across your face. It was usually at this point in the night that your hand found its way in between your pajama pants and gently glided itself across your sensitive floret. Your hips jolted forward at the contact and as soon as that sensation spread through your body, images of Father Paul flickered in your mind. As your finger circled over your clit you found yourself reaching your climax faster than usual. As your orgasm flooded through your limbs, your chest heaved for air trying to calm the euphoria running through your veins. 

Pulling your hand from under the sheets, you let your arm drape across your eyes grappling with what you just did. But before you could really identify the problem with your actions, sleep weighed heavily on your eyelids. 

When you woke up, your middle of the night scandal was the first thing on your mind. 

How am I gonna look at him again? 

A string of questions ran through your mind leaving you mentally scattered but as you got ready for the day and saw your sister in the main room, it left the front of your mind. 

“Morning.” 

“Morning. You gonna go to church today?”

You shot your sister a look that was a mixture of embarrassment and a playful knowing. You two erupted into a fit of giggles that ended with you looking at her out of the corner of your eye. 

“Maybe.”

She watched you, impressed by your honesty, and nodded her head. Taking a sip of her drink she spoke through her swallow making her voice a little gummy. 

“Your best chances of seeing him are in the evening. For some reason, he’s stopped coming out in the day. Probably to avoid Bev. That woman would sew herself to his hip if she could.”

“Bev was up the Monsignor’s ass too, nothing out of the ordinary. I’ve never seen someone try to get so close to fucking God.” 

You both were laughing until you saw your mother emerge from the hallway and you halted the sound in your throats. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing. Just givin’ Bev shit for being Bev.”

Your mom laughed through her nose and shook her head at your antics and you were preparing for a small lecture. 

“So I take it you’ll be heading to the church tonight y/n? Typically we only go on Sundays now but I’m sure Father Paul would be ecstatic to see one of us a little more often.” 

Your family took great pride in taking the piss out of you and to be completely fair you made it quite easy. You rolled your eyes at your mother because even she knew you had lost touch with your faith, but now you had reason to find it–maybe. 

“I wasn’t planning on it but since Briar and now you have both greeted me with the question maybe I will. Build some rapport with the man.” 

“We both know you’d wanna build something more than rapport with him.” Briar chimed in. 

“I literally can’t even! You know…with him. It’s against their whole code. Don’t think I forgot. But also they like should come up with a code to not have hot priests, I’m just sayin.” 

They both just hummed in agreement still silently giving you shit. 

“You guys are terrible.” You laughed. 

~*~

You had all day to conjure up a scheme of how you’d find a way to get close to Father Paul and you finally decided on a plan while you were getting ready. 

Confession. 

Technically you didn’t need a priest for confession but it’d be nice to have someone listen while you were in the box. Everyone separated into their rooms for the day and you hoped that was still the case when you stepped out of the house. 

“Skirt’s a little long isn’t it.” 

You didn’t expect Briar to be sitting in the main room so her voice spooked you before you registered her words. 

“Yeah, but I think the side slits balance out the potential prude.” 

You shoved your leg out to the side showing off how the slit in the maxi skirt stopped at the middle of your thigh. Paired with a fairly tight black long sleeve and chunky boots, you were bordering on looking like a mortician. In your mind, being clad in all black hid not only you, but your true intentions from being so visible. The last thing you needed was being sniffed out through a choice of clothing, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t hopeful for an interaction. 

“I’ll be back.”

“Be safe.” Briar snickered

Stepping out into the cool night air, you were thankful to feel something other than the emotional heat from your family. It immediately soothed your nerves and you found yourself focusing more on your plan. With the church doors open, you noticed you saw nobody walking in and when you walked up the steps you were surprised to see the pews empty. It felt like you were intruding, like a fly buzzing around a dinner table. Your footsteps echoed in the empty building and you felt an overwhelming feeling to run out and forget about this elaborate plan. To sacrifice your need for affection and carnal satisfaction for a walk across the shoreline or to the general store. Just something else. 

Your eyes panned over to the confession box and you were wrestling with your gut feeling to stay. Maybe you should confess and get it off your chest…just not with him there. With disquieted uncertainty overcoming you, you took a step back to exit the church deciding that you’d come back another day, but when you expected your body to glide through the air, you stumbled into something solid instead. Whipping your body around you apologized profusely. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I was spaced out and didn’t hear anybody behind me I’m so-” 

And then you paused. As your eyes traveled up to meet the person you stumbled into your eyes caught the clerical collar. It was like a bullet lodged itself into your chest and you felt your limbs begin to grow cold from shock. You knew who lied above that collar and you had to find the guts to look at him in the eye. 

“It’s no trouble at all. Are you alright? You seem pretty startled.” 

Father Paul placed his hand on your shoulder looking down at you with genuine concern. You made the mistake of looking at him directly in the eye and you wished you didn’t. His deep brown eyes furrowed under his brow waiting for your response but you were entranced by him. Stuttering when you found your voice. 

“I, uh, yeah. I’m fine. I just was in my head about something.” 

Father Paul cocked his head slightly trying to figure out where to step with you. He narrowed his eyes for a moment and flickered back and forth between you and the confessional box. 

“I noticed you were quite focused on the confessional, were you looking to confess this evening, y/n?” 

You panicked. Backed in a corner, your mouth moved faster than your brain. It was too late before you could register the words flying out of your mouth. 

“Well, yes and no. I’ve been quite separated from my faith as of late but I’ve been struggling with…some intense internal issues that can’t be ignored now. I’m not sure if confession would make it better or worse and that’s why I was so engrossed in it.” 

“Well. We’re here now. If you’re comfortable, I can lead you through it.” 

You were hesitant. You worried that in your current state, you’d divulge too much, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed to do. To just get it all out of your system and bear the humiliation. You looked at him one last time and it was as if he was waiting for your compliance. He may as well have been extending his hand out to lead you to it. Closing your eyes and accepting this as a fated moment you inhaled a deep breath and nodded. 

“Okay.” 

Walking to the confessional, you got down on your knees, folded your hands in front of your mouth, and exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You looked through the latticed opening and made out a few of Father Paul’s features. A feeling began to pool in your stomach as you realized the dynamic of the situation you were in. Your mind swiftly moved into the gutter wishing you were on your knees for a different reason. 

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned–and will continue to do so.” 

You paused deciding one last time if you were going to bear all your bones here. Swallowing your pride, like a gun sounding the start of a race, you relieved yourself with zero guilt. 

“Being separated from my faith has left me in a deeply sacrilegious state. For the most part, I can ignore my thoughts, my taboo interests but since I stepped foot back on this island it's all come bubbling back up.”

You looked to see if Father Paul was looking at you but he stared straight ahead giving you his complete focus to your confession. 

“I find, grave desire in things I shouldn’t. Sexual hunger that I can’t displace somewhere else because I know the only reason it brews within me is because I know it’s wrong. Father, these feelings came back to the surface when I laid my eyes on you during Mass. I couldn’t help it. The feeling that pooled in the depths of my stomach and left me aching for something more. Forgive me, Father, for my boldness, but I fear that the only way I can feel relief is to…release.” 

You felt your breath quicken at how honest you were being but it was soon replaced by the feeling of of excitement. 

“I know it’s wrong but I…I can’t stop the feeling. This is all I can say, I’m sorry for my sins.” 

Silence. 

You felt like you sat in silence for an eternity waiting to hear his voice echo to your side, but you didn’t. Instead, you heard the pace of his breathing. You almost confused it for your own but you held your breath trying to calm your nerves and still it echoed. 

“Father…I. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any-” 

“Y/n. Come to the other side. 

As you rose to your feet, you heard the door on his side of the confessional click open. When you stood in front of the door, it was the first time this evening you found the courage to look him directly in the eye. There was a dastardly hunger swimming in his brown eyes. Like a predator stalking his prey, his aura was intense and left you frozen in front of him awaiting his command. His eyebrow slightly cocked upward and his hand raised, coaxing you towards him. You followed, pausing before you stepped inside his side of the box but he coaxed you forward with his voice so smooth and alluring. With little room, you were left to slot yourself in between his legs. 

Your breath hitched as you looked at him again and he patted his thigh with his hand that was wrapped in a rosary. Clenching around nothing, you made the swift decision to close his legs and straddle them instead of taking his knee. Letting your hands rest on his shoulders you stared him down. Nothing but salacity was radiating between your bodies and quickly you began to feel your desire rise into your face. Searching his eyes for any indication of his feelings you opened your mouth to speak but he occupied the silence before you. 

“I wondered if, you would find the courage to be truthful and I must say I’m struck by your honesty.”

Your heart nearly stopped. 

You fucked this up, bad.

“Father, I-”

“No need for any apologies. I’m glad you were so honest.” 

“You…you are?”

“Lying is a sin, so yes. But it relieves me of my own prurient conscience so that I may indulge in you free of guilt.” 

You weren’t paying attention to the movement of his body due to being so focused on his words, but when his words were punctuated with the rolling of his rosary-clad finger across your cloth-covered center, you were made very aware. Your cunt clenched around nothing and your body lurched forward unintentionally writhing over his hand. Your breath came out in shutters and your eyes, now hooded with lust, gazed into his own in a frenzy. 

His fingers kept gently teasing your bud through your panties and you couldn’t help the compulsion to ride in tandem with his movements. The beads of the rosary gifted you an unknown kind of pleasure that you knew would afflict your mind for the rest of time. It was a feeling that was near indescribable but the pleasure was too good to deny. You rested your head on his forehead, gripping onto his shoulders for some type of leverage. You bit the corner of your lip in an effort to silence yourself, but your ragged breathing was near that of an incensed bull. 

“If you did a better job of controlling yourself yesterday, I may have been fooled by your sheepish nature, but you just couldn’t quell this desire on your own, could you? You went home to seek some satisfaction but you found none, so you came here to plague me instead. Praying that I’d fix this ache within you. Am I right y/n?”

You went to respond but Father Paul’s finger slipped past the barrier of your underwear, leaving you to feel your arousal be spread across your puffy petals. A moan escaped your throat and the way it echoed off the confessional walls into the church made you shrink into his body. A pathetic attempt to hide from your lechery. Father Paul hummed, urging you to speak as he sank two fingers into your honeyed garden. Catching your breath, you found your words. 

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Father~”

You brought your head up to look at him again, too dazed to even feel like this was real. As his fingers continued to roll themselves against your sweet spot, your breath quickened as your mouth stayed ajar looking for the courage somewhere in yourself to slot your lips against his. As he rolled his finger over your swollen bud, your body decided for you. Your lips danced in a sweat and lust-filled hysteria leaving your brain foggy with desire. You rolled your hips into his hand needing more of him and your sounds slowly increased in volume as you felt a bead of the rosary slide across your center. The feeling of the beads slightly grazing your sensitive lips brought you faster to the precipice of elation than you expected and you pathetically whined for your release. 

“I’m, I’m close, Father.” 

You expected him to speed up his ministrations, but instead, he removed his slick-ridden fingers from your garden and brought them up to his lips. As if his hand was dripping in myrrh, he sucked you off of his fingers and paused before he spoke. Ghosting his fingers across his lips, his tongue hesitantly licked the tips of them as he dragged his hand away from his face.

“If you’re going to be brought to rapture by my hand it will be done when all of me is inside of you.” 

Father Paul motioned you to stand up and you staggered out of the confessional with him not far behind. He grabbed your hand and dragged you down the center of the church pews up to the altar. Ripping the white cloth off the altar, Father Paul held his hand out before sitting you down on the altar. He caressed his hands down the curves of your body before toying with the waistband of your skirt. Looking down at you, you saw the fervor swimming in his irises. 

“My sweet lamb, is this alright?”

You nodded and he slotted himself in between your legs feeling his bulge at your center. Depraved and corpulent lust washed over your body and your fingers fumbled with his belt, unfastening it with haste. You looked up at him and his face was closer than you expected, the heat radiating off of your bodies leaving a mist of humidity between you. You palmed him through his jeans and an inviscerated moan crawled out of his throat. The sound urged your body to move faster, the need to have him inside of you becoming near unbearable. 

He kissed you again, insatiable ardor all that you could taste. The feeling trickled down your body leaving goosebumps across your soft skin and a river seeping through the fabric of your panties that slowly painted the apex of your thighs. He tapped your thighs and you took it as a sign to lift your hips. In a swift motion, your skirt and underwear were left in a pool by the altar. Father Paul removed himself from his sweater, throwing it in the pile of sacrilegious cloths that served as a visual reminder of the desacralization that was about to take place. He left his button-up to cling to his chest and he moved his jeans and underwear down to the middle of his thighs, leaving him with his fervid cock on full display. 

You kicked your boots off your feet, the thud echoing a little bit louder than you intended. With your feet now free from their confines, you wrapped your legs around Father Paul’s legs, bringing him as close as possible. Your hand slithered between your bodies and varnished the tip of his cock in your amatory nectar. Your moans harmonized in synchrony and you gazed into his lust-blown eyes seeing nothing but black and you were sure yours were the same. He asked silently one last time for consent and you nodded slightly before he entered you. 

The stretch of his cock was something you felt only one could dream about. It filled you perfectly and you knew you wouldn’t last long. Your head dipped back in zeal, relishing in the feeling that was rushing in waves over your form. When your head tipped back up, your eyes met the enlarged crucifix that hung in the center of the back wall. For a reason unknown to you, locking eyes with Jesus as you desecrated His holy house made a pang of carnal hedonism tangle in your sexual daze. 

Your hands webbed themselves in Father Paul’s hair gripping at his strands and pulling his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder, feeling his breath heat up your skin. You felt his mouth open and drag itself across the side of your neck. A slight chill graced the parts where his spit marked his territory. You felt his breathing get heavier and all of a sudden you felt his cock slip out of you and he picked you up from the altar, turning you around and kicking your feet into a perfect V shape. He bent your body over the altar and slowly pushed himself back into you, the new angle making you cry out in complete perverted passion. 

His thrusts were deep and pointed making sure that you felt every inch of him drag in and out of your seraphic labyrinth. Just when you felt that the feeling couldn't get any more intense, his hand entangled itself into your hair and pulled your body up, flesh against his chest. His thrusts became rougher and you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. 

“Feel good, my dove?” 

You were fucking yourself back onto him, any coherent thought on the brink of leaving you amidst your ardent pleasure. 

“S-so…so good, Father. Shit.”

You were running out of air, your body paying more attention to the dam that was about to burst within you. 

“Better than your hand?”

“Uh-huh”

Your eyes were rolling back in pleasure and were hooded as you looked back at him. He gingerly guided your body back down to the altar and removed his hand from your hair, slowly tracing his hand down your back. Both of his hands grabbed your hips and the feeling had you crying out as his tip kissed your cervix. You felt his body lean over yours as he moved your hair away from your neck. His breath was sticking to your neck before a whisper ghosted over your ear.

“I’m sorry, but trust me right now.” 

He licked from the base of your neck and then you felt him pierce your skin with his teeth. In your licentious stupor, you just moaned out at the contact not fully registering that his teeth were sinking into your flesh or the fact that footsteps were echoing through the church. 

“Father, you weren’t in your rectory so I assumed this would be second best to find you-oh…” 

Bev.

Her grating voice almost brought you out of your daze, but Father Paul resorted to slow, deep thrusts as he kept he kept sucking your neck. When he lifted his face from your neck you felt a warm liquid trickle down your skin and pool towards your collarbone before landing on the altar. You lifted your head, your body weak and wracked with pleasure. You could barely make eye contact with her as your eyes were so hooded but you heard her voice resonate through the building once more. 

“Haresis Dea.”

Your head dropped unable to focus on her and your body rolled back into Father Paul’s, needing more of him as your orgasm was slowly fading back into your body. As you moved against him, his hips slowly began to thrust back into your sloppy cunt as Bev waited for some semblance of an explanation. 

“God has chosen her. He has chosen to consecrate this union, this nocturnal metamorphosis with lascivious intent because she is the last piece. God has willed it this way and has chosen her.” 

Father Paul bent down to lap at your neck again and his hips regained their momentum. You pushed yourself up from the altar and wrapped your arm around the back of his neck lapping at the blood that was dribbling down his chin.

“Very well.” 

And you heard Bev’s footsteps walk out of the church, the main doors closing behind her. Father Paul picked you up again, turning your body back around to face him. There was a certain ferality that wasn’t in his features before that had you clenching around his cock. With the doors shut, you both let your moans reign loose, a salacious cacophony filling the air. Your eyes scaled up the wall again and you came face to face with Jesus as a pool of heated arousal settled in your lower stomach begging to be set free. Your head knocked back in avidity and you didn’t see him slice a small cut in his wrist. 

When his thumb found your enflamed bud, you brought your head forward and he placed his bleeding wrist against your lips. As a wave of sexual delirium washed over you, your mouth hung open and he urged you to suck on his wrist. The metallic taste flooded over your tongue as your orgasm heightened your senses. Father Paul kept fucking you through your high until he reached his own, his cock painting your labyrinth a warm alabaster. He pulled his wrist away from you as you both were trying to calm down your breathing. 

Both of your mouths now covered in a drying garnet hue, you found yourself pressing your lips against his once again, unable to satisfy this ache completely. He chuckled as you both pulled away. 

“Easy, my dove.” 

You nodded, placing your hands flat against his chest. 

“Let’s get you dressed and then walk to the rectory, hmm?” 

Licking your bottom lip and locking it behind your teeth, you nodded as you slowly made the return back to your body.  

© yeonjuns-beanie

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 18]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3.7k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

warning: canon typical violence || vomit

“Oh, kiss me, beneath the milky twilight. Lead me out on the moonlit floor, lift your open hand - Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling. So, kiss me.”

You hum along with the song playing quietly in your ear as you scrub the bathtub. It is one of your cleaning nights and you are focused on getting everything back to tip-top shape. The tub currently has a bit of a purple tint to it after you tried a new brand of bubble bath for Minnie - you are lucky she isn’t now grape flavored as well - and you would very much like it gone. It is coming off easier than you expected, but it is taking a fair amount of elbow grease. 

It is easy to space out and listen to music as you work. Your cleaning playlist are songs you can vibe to that you don’t really associate with anything in your life - mostly you think about the movies the song has been featured in - but you are finding, as you scrub and romantic lyrics float through your head, a certain name and face keeps appearing in your mind’s eye. 

You know it isn’t wise for you to develop a crush on Matt - just because you have a daughter together does not mean he wants to kiss you. You know you need to squash the feelings down before you get yourself hurt. 

But sometimes it is nice to have silly impossible daydreams while you are cleaning alone at ten at night. Having a goofy little smile while you picture yourself spinning around a garden in a dance isn’t hurting anyone. You have a good grasp on reality - you just sometimes want to pretend to be the lead in a cheesy 90’s teen romcom - is that too much to ask? 

No one else needs to know Matt has replaced the lead actor. It is a secret just for you. 

As you scrub bleach powder around your purple-haze tub drain, you catch movement reflecting in the shine of the spout. You can’t hear anything over your music - even though you only have one earbud in - so you sit up and turn around. Of course, it is Minnie standing in the doorway, clad in her jammies, and dragging Scooby by his big paw.

You pull the earbud out, frowning to your daughter, “Is everything alright, Mouse? Is my music too loud? Did it wake you up?”

She shakes her head, then in the most miserable voice you have ever heard from her, whines, “My tummy hurts.”

Instantly, you set down your sponge and your earbud so you can go to your daughter, “your tummy hurts?” 

You move to pick her up, wanting to comfort her, but it is made clear she doesn’t want this by stepping back and holding up her toy between the two of you. It hurts, but it passes, as you know you don’t like to be touched when you feel sick, so instead, you kneel down to be in front of her and try to find the root of the problem. 

“How does your tummy hurt?”

She sways side to side, face scrunching up as she self-analyzes. You can see the little wheels turning in her head, but then there is a very subtle shift in her eyes that only years of being a mother makes you notice. With lightning speed, you grab Minnie under her arms and spin around to hold her over the toilet just as her dinner begins to regurgitate. 

Your heart breaks as she empties her stomach and you try to soothe her the best you can, rubbing her little back as she coughs and hacks. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, get it all out. Get all the icky out,” you tell her. 

Luckily, her stomach is small and there is not a lot of expel. Once you are sure she is done, you flush the toilet then close the lid, intent on setting Minnie down so you can clean her up, but of course, now she doesn’t want to be put down. She wiggles and turns until she can bury her head into your neck, sniffling and hiccupping, and clinging to you the best she can. 

You can feel bits of vomit on your neck, but since you aren’t completely covered in it, you try to ignore it in favor of your distressed daughter. You begin to rock her gently, humming one of her favorite lullabies as she processes how distressing throwing up is.

You don’t remember when the last time she got sick was, but you have a guess as to what caused this upset - you tried a new ice cream for dessert tonight. It had made your stomach a bit gurgly and you had solved that with a TUMS. 

It hadn’t occurred to you to ask if Minnie needed one, too. 

A lesson for the future.

Minnie doesn’t dissolve into full on tears and after about two minutes, she pulls back and croaks out, “‘cooby?”

She had dropped the toy when you had first picked her up, so you stretch to grab him for her. She quickly switches to clinging to him and you go right for a washcloth. You wipe down your neck first - you can only handle so much - then start on cleaning up your poor Mouse. 

In a blessing from the gods, she only has a little bit of gunk around her mouth and nose. It doesn’t seem like anything got on her clothes. 

Getting her to rinse her mouth out takes a bit of convincing. 

“It will help the icky taste go away,” you promise, but she just clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head. You very much get why she wouldn’t want anything in her mouth after throwing up, but you also know she needs a good rinse. She only gives in after you demonstrate what you want of her by brushing your teeth and gargling some water. However, the condition is that you have to brush her teeth for her while she squeezes Scooby for dear life. 

Once her mouth is clean and the only sign she was ever sick is her puffy red eyes, you scoop up your baby and bring her out to the living room. 

“How does your tummy feel now?” you ask as you set her on the couch and begin to cocoon her in the throw blanket you keep there. 

Minnie rests her head on top of Scooby’s, lip jutting out into a pout, “Icky. And Hurty.”

“Icky and hurty?” You sympathize. You know well the aftermath of throwing up and how sometimes the aftermath is worse than the event - your stomach often turns sour and you feel drained. You know certain fluids will help relieve this, so you kiss Mouse’s forehead and tell her, “Let me see if we have any things to help.”

“Blue Pedi-lyte?” she asks and you can’t help but smile over how observant and smart your little one is. She may not have thrown up in recent memory - but other digestive problems have occurred, and she clearly remembers enough that the drink helped. 

“Yeah. Let me go see if we have any, okay? Do you want to put on some Mickey?”

“Goofy,” is her quick, but mumbled reply. 

You turn on the television and bring up some Goofy related shorts, then head to the kitchen, hoping you have some old Pedialyte. 

But you don’t. 

You have leftover drinks Karen brought you and the only thing that is comparable to what you promised Minnie is yellow Gatorade. However, you have nothing to turn it blue. You have the feeling that trying to give it to your little one is not going to go well, but you try, nonetheless. You fill a sippy cup halfway with yellow liquid and mentally cross yourself as you bring it to Mouse on the couch.

She takes one look at it before pouting at you, “That’s yellow.”

“I know, sweetie. But we don’t have any blue Pedialyte. We only have yellow Gatorade. It will help your tummy, too.”

To her credit, she takes it and holds it in her lap, looking down at it with disdain. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, then wrinkles up her nose and holds the cup back up to you, “It’s stinky.”

You try to not sigh - lemon-lime is an intense flavor and probably won’t taste the best after vomiting, but it is all you have. You crouch down so you are eye level with your daughter and rub her leg, trying to be encouraging, “I know, but it will help your tummy. Can you try for me?”

She looks between you and the cup about fifteen times, her little eyes full of doubt, before bringing it up to her mouth and taking a sip. She does not swallow - instead she looks disgusted before opening her mouth and letting the drink spill down her chin.

“Oh, no, no, let’s not do that,” you groan. You use your t-shirt - which is luckily your cleaning shirt and gross anyways - to wipe her face and soak up the yellow liquid. 

“Icky,” Mouse informs you, then adds, “I want blue Pedi-lyte. Please?”

You take in your daughter, looking so tiny wrapped up on the couch. How awful it must be to not only be nauseous, but to be so with enhanced senses. You’ve thrown up enough times to know what an unpleasant aftertaste it leaves, so she must be so miserable.

You rub your hands over your face and give in, “Okay, let Mommy go change into real people clothes, and we will go get some for you.”

----

You are no stranger to midnight runs to the bodega two blocks west. You had moved into your current apartment when you were about six months pregnant, and you had spent month seven waddling your way there almost every night for a slice of cake.  The late-night cashier, Sal, practically watched Minnie grow up and he is one of the few people who she will talk to unprompted.  So, you don’t feel embarrassed when you stroll in wearing sweatpants and a band-tank top, with Minnie still in her jammies - Sal has seen you in worse states and at least you aren’t wearing a robe and slippers. 

There’s a couple of college aged boys lingering around the snacks section who smell heavily of marijuana, and they seem more interested in talking about what chips to get than anything, so only your hyper paranoid mind makes you take notice as you make your way to the drink coolers. You pass all the fun things and go to the very back corner of the storefront where the small selection of medicinal goods are. 

Tampons, Tylenol, and band aids are stacked low on the dry goods shelf, and across from them, practically on the floor of the cooler, is one row of Pedialyte. The gods must be smiling on you because it is indeed the blue flavor your daughter is desiring. 

You open the cooler, and with Minnie on your hip, squat down to retrieve your prize. Almost instantly, she starts making grabby hands for it, asking with a bit of a whine, “Mommy, open it.”

“We have to pay for it first, then you can drink it,” you remind her, feeling guilty as you do. You can see the upset in her eyes, and to try and mitigate the damage, you offer, “Do you want to help buy it?”

Mouse, always the eager helper, nods against you, so you hand over the drink, stand, and start making your way to the counter. The stoned boys are debating which chips will leave the least amount of residue on their gaming controllers as you pass them and part of you wants to stop and listen. You don’t have an interest in video games beyond silly ones on your phone, but their passion is intense, and you agree Cheeto dust is one of the worst things in the world. You are lucky Minnie finds them gross and much prefers pretzels as her chip of choice.

As you come up to the checkout, Sal looks up from his phone and gives you a pleasant smile, “Late night snack run?” 

Minnie pipes up before you can, leaning forward as far as she can to hold out the bottle towards him, “I wanna buy this, please, thank you.”

Sal, ever kind, reaches across the counter to get it so you don’t have to try to lean in, “Ahhh, no snacks. Tummy troubles?”

“Tummy troubles,” you confirm. You dig into your purse for your wallet as he begins to ring you up.

Sal clicks his tongue in sympathy, before telling you, “My daughter, Sasha, the tall one, she always had the tummy troubles, too. Turns out, she was allergic to corn. Do you know how much corn is in everything in America?”

You make a face at that because you do, in fact, know how much corn is in everything. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

In your arms, always wanting to mimic you, Minnie gives a solemn nod to Sal, “Sorry to hear.”

Sal laughs warmly, “You are kind. I hope your tummy troubles are not from corn, but too many sweets.” 

That makes Mouse giggle, which warms your heart. When you are told the total, you hand her your card to hand over to Sal. The sweet man swipes it, then addresses Minnie, “Debit or credit?”

Despite not knowing what that means, she instantly replies with, “Credit!” making you smile all the more. 

“Yes, we will charge it,” he says. The receipt prints and he hands that and the card back to you before bagging the Pedialyte in a little black baggie and handing that to Minnie. “Your purchase, little ma’am.” 

“Thank you!” she chimes, and you thank Sal as well. The college boys have finally decided on their snack, so you vacate the counter so they can make their purchase, wishing the cashier a good rest of his night. 

As you exit the bodega, Minnie bonks your arm with the bagged bottle, “Mommy, open it now. We buyed it.” 

“Okay, okay.”

You set her down on the ground, then get the bottle out so you can crack it open. You help your little one take a few careful sips and once she is done, she smacks her lips. 

“Not icky?” You ask and she gives a big nod in response. 

“Not icky.”

“How is your tummy?”

Her fist goes right into her mouth as she thinks over the question. You use the time to recap the drink and drop it back into the bag, then put that into your purse. 

“It feels like jumping dinosaurs,” Mouse finally tells you, “Going ‘bah bah bah’. Like sheepies.”

You have no idea what that is supposed to mean, but you guess that she feels better. She seems more chipper, which isn’t what you need closing in on midnight. If you don’t get home soon and get her back into bed, you are going to have a very grumpy toddler in the morning. 

Which will go great with your expected grumpiness - you still have to finish cleaning the bathroom and who knows how long that is going to take. You’ll need to redo the toilet and throw a load of laundry into the wash. You’ll probably get to bed around two if you are lucky.

So, with the complete intention of tiring your daughter out, you ask her, “Do you want to walk back home holding Mommy’s hand?”

Which completely does the trick and Minnie takes your hand so you can walk back home together, and you begin heading that way. 

Despite being the city that never sleeps, the streets around you are pretty empty. You haven’t come across any other foot traffic and you’ve only seen a few cars roll by, so to you, it seems like a quiet night.

You wonder if that is how Minnie sees it - or in her case - hears it. 

It has been mind boggling learning her range of hearing and how much input she must constantly receive.

Matt is still working on making you his binder - Karen has apparently taken to copy editing it - but he has given you a preview of a few pages and you can barely comprehend it. You think you would go insane if you could hear everyone talking all at once, all the time. Your anxiety would be astronomical, but your sweet Mouse doesn’t seem bothered in day-to-day life.

You’ve been watching her play more and more and you’ve been learning what catches her attention and interests. To your surprise, it has been music. The little wiggles and shakes she sometimes does is apparently her interpretation of dancing and you have been making her a little playlist for her birthday. You think a dance party would be a fun thing to do the night before the zoo trip, to help get out all her energy. You haven’t told her this yet, but you did ask her to let you know when she hears a song she wants to dance to, so you can look into it. 

You don’t want to add anything inappropriate after all. 

You look down at your daughter as you walk, a little smile coming to your face. She’s watching her feet, and it looks like she’s trying to step on her own shadow without making a big deal of it. You’ve seen her do that before or try to walk one foot in front of the other. You aren’t the fastest walker - you tend to stroll - so you never worry about her games slowing you down. 

Plus, if it wears her out, all the better for you. 

You are about half a block away from your building when Minnie suddenly halts and whirls her head back towards the bodega. Curious, you stop as well, wondering what she has heard now. 

“What is it, sweetie?” 

“There’s a hoot-hoot!” She whisper-yells, looking up to you with the biggest, purest smile. 

Your heart practically bursts from your chest with love and your smile grows to match hers, “A hoot-hoot? Can you tell me about the hoot-hoot?”

She nods, then you watch in slow motion as your daughter’s absolute joy morphs into that of horror and before you can even process what is happening, something is ripping you away from Minnie by the base of your neck. 

You are pivoted left and slammed face first into the brownstone staircase you were just walking by. Your vision goes spotty as pain erupts from the center of your forehead - confusion and panic begin to consume you. 

All you can hear is your daughter screaming in fear.

You have no idea what is going on, but all you know is Minnie needs you, and that ignites something deep and primal in your chest.

There is something grabbing and pulling at your top and your purse - which you wear crossbody - and you realize someone is trying to mug you. Fear fills you as you struggle to get away, break free, but whoever it is is stronger than you and keeps slamming you back against the stone.

“Mommy!”

The thing inside your chest bursts to life when you hear Minnie cry for you and you kick backwards best you can, trying to dislodge your attacker. Your foot catches their knee and both of you go tumbling to the ground. You hit the cement hard only to be crushed under the weight of your assailant as they land on top of you. 

You refuse to stay still, squirming and trying to army crawl out from under the mugger, but they easily overpower you. Hands wrap around your throat from behind and you are temporarily overwhelmed by the stench of body odor and filth. You are pressed down into the sidewalk for a split second before being yanked back and you just barely manage to turn your face as you are violently forced back down again. Gravel and glass tear at your cheek. 

Something tangles itself into your hair and your head is once again being pulled back, but you won’t give up. You reach back over your head and grab onto the arm of the person attacking you. You feel flesh, so you curl your fingers and dig your nails in the best you can. 

There is a feral, pained yowl, then your head meets the ground again, but it doesn’t stop. They are trying to push you down into the sidewalk using all their weight, like they are trying to crush your skull.

You kick and buck as hard as you are able to, thrashing desperately in an attempt to break away. The pain is quickly becoming all encompassing, but Minnie is crying, and you need to get to her.

You try to get an arm under you, to try and help to push you up, but there is so much weight and all of it is centered on your upper back and skull.

You can’t get up. 

You can’t get to Minnie. 

You can’t save your daughter.

There is a deep and furious roar, then the crushing weight of your attacker is ripped off of you.  

You gasp for breath as you quickly roll onto your side, terrified you're going to be pushed back into the dirt and smothered. Your vision is swimming, blurry and half black, and everything, everything hurts. 

“DADDY!” 

Your eyes snap open and you try to push yourself up onto shaky arms. You try to turn around to find your daughter, but your body doesn’t want to obey anymore, and you collapse back onto the ground. You force your legs to move the best you can, trying to roll until you can find your daughter. 

“Minnie..” you try to call out but you aren’t sure if any noise escapes your lips.

“Mommy!”

The darkness wraps itself around you and begins to drag you down into its depths. The last thing your mind catches before it switches off is your little Mouse, screaming for you.

“MOMMY!”

“MOMMY!!”

---

:3C

---

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath 

 @allllium

@anehkael

 @nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird  @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare 

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

@

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @nommingonfood@mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

@

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 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

[cherriesxinthespring]

WASTELAND, BABY!– ellie williams x reader

hi! I'm writing a new series that happens after the events of TLOU II. it's an enemies to lovers. A story about ellie eventually finding happiness and love again. She finds her light; and so do you.

Before you read the summary– please read this. Free Palestine. Do not consume tlou fanfics without educating yourself about its zionist themes.

this story is only posted on ao3. read it here.

*SUMMARY: You had decided to give life one last try. That was it. After the events in The Last of Us Part II, Ellie decides that the only way to find peace is to turn herself in to the fireflies. She finds a lead; they tell her to find you, a young woman who wanders around with no purpose. When she eventually does, you refuse to tell her where the fireflies are; if she finds them, everything that you did in your past would've been for nothing.

You embark on a journey together, walking through rain, snow and through the darkest places this cruel world has to offer. What neither of you expect, broken and traumatized, is to find the light again in each other.

"For the world is Hell, and people are on the one hand the tormented souls and on other the devils in it." (Schopenhauer, On the suffering of the world)

LINKS: read it here. playlist.

C.W/GENERAL TAGS: enemies to lovers, AFAB reader, eventual smut, gun violence, ellie kinda kidnaps you?, suicidal ideation (both ellie and reader), r! is wounded, PTSD and trauma, triggering flashbacks. canon violence in the game, depression. overall heavy themes, but happy ending i promise!

CHAPTER 1: One last try. You encounter Ellie. She follows the trail of blood you were leaving. You refuse to give her the information she wants. So, she drags you through the entire state of Montana. "You’re bold for someone unarmed and bruised, with a gun pointed to their head"

CHAPTER 2: Courage, dear heart. A small flame inside you ignites. you finally have a purpose; to mislead her, and to escape from her. You come up with a plan, and that involves earning her trust. just enough until she becomes sloppy. But you can't let her see your skills; she might see you as a threat. That plan quickly goes to waste when you encounter a large group of clickers.

“I could kill you right now,” she said, holding your own knife against your throat. Her knuckles were white from how much force she was using. Her features were almost unrecognisable.  “Then you’d break your promise,” you said. “Promises mean nothing in this world.” 

CHAPTER 3: No one left to sing to The rain doesn't stop, so you and this strange girl are forced to stay inside the cave. You're feverish, disoriented. After a conversation in which she mentions the fireflies, you decide to go through her journal to find answers. And you do.

"Are you a firefly?" she asked, like she had just read your mind, or you were thinking out loud. “not a firefly,” you said. you held back a laugh, but she saw the flash of a smirk. You, the reason why they were gone after Salt Lake City, a firefly. “Definitely not.” you paused.  “are you?” you asked. “No.”

CHAPTER 4– Your blinding light (flashback chapter)

Summer 2033, Boston QZ You waited for Hannah to come to you. Life in the QZ was simple for you; being confined in between four walls, listening to your mom's Beatles cassettes, and sneaking out past curfew. That is, until your mom slowly starts abandoning you. "Maybe Hannah was the only one you had, after all"

CHAPTER 5– This darkness i'm condemned to

Ellie and you finally reach the nearest town. And your plan is successful; you finally lead her to danger. What you failed to account for is that this danger can harm you, too.

“took them out right?" you said, trying to test the waters. Trying to sound lighthearted, but failing completely at it.  "Damn right you did," she said.

CHAPTER 6– The injury of finally knowing

taglist: since i impulsively deleted my old account, i'm tagging my old taglist. it's still me! the bitch that wrote the abby greys anatomy AU! you can still join my taglist here

@kissesskittens @zahraaziza @uraesthete @elsvrse @lonelyfooryouonly @ximtiredx @ellabsprincess @spaceshipellie @machetegirl109 @sc0ttstre3ted @taylarxse @carmellie @mayfieldsz @brooklynvwilliams @rinarchy @elliesgffr @wannabwanted @ellabsweet @sapphic-and-sappy @imyour-favouritegirl @andersonsgirl @heyabimina @novadanversss @mulan-but-gay @lez-zuha @abbys-sweat-wife @maribelo-o @peppesgirl

if your name is crossed out, it means I can't tag you– please check your settings and follow these steps!

dividers by @saradika-graphics.

[soobnny]

no other heart — best friend!kim seungmin x reader ; only one person can ever persuade seungmin to do anything (1.4k words)

happy bday seungmo! you are my favorite person

Seungmin feels Hyunjin before he even sees his face.

He comes in the form of a hand falling firmly on Seungmin’s shoulder, and the first thing the younger boy thinks is that your hands are supposed to be smaller.

The house that they’re in is loud, and really really crowded. It’s a setting that Seungmin doesn’t often take part in, preferring the quiet sounds of his airconditioning back at his room.

There is also a sharp contrast in how the boy favors his music. While he’s currently surrounded by the thrumming of music that beats in his ears, he would rather be at the dorm in the comfort of his lifeline (or, for better words, his collected playlist for the month).

From the corner of his eye, he sees his oldest friend, Chan, talking to a set of faces he’s never seen before. He wonders how the older boy does it. Seungmin has no plans of starting a conversation unlike Chan, not when he’s overstimulated by the flashing lights, and the confusing aromas wafting from the red cups that everyone seems to be holding, and the hand on his shoulder that most definitely is not yours.

“Seungmin, you came!” That’s also definitely not your voice.

“Hyunjinnie.” He breathes out, head muddled by his sudden urge to go home despite just having arrived around half an hour ago. He doesn’t sound as enthusiastic as his friend, but Hyunjin gives the boy a pass. Besides, it’s not everyday you see Kim Seungmin out past 10 in the evening, more less at a party.

Seungmin shifts a little from where he’s standing, just enough for Hyunjin’s hand to fall limp by his side. If you knew him less, you would think he was being rude. However, his indifference does a lot in calming his friend down.

He still has a distaste for parties. At least, this way, Hyunjin knows that no force has taken over Seungmin for his sudden appearance.

“Not to be mean, I’m just genuinely curious. How come you’re he—”

“Seungminnie!”

He shifts his attention to the sound.

There’s your voice, finally your voice, loud and clear to the boy, enough to be heard over the music and the voices and the heat.

There’s a sudden understanding that crosses Hyunjin’s features, and he says something on par with how Seungmin would only ever go to anything if it was you who asked.

“Ah, of course you’re here, (name). That must be why he’s here too.” Hyunjin giggles, sending a wink that looks more like a blink to the both of you before he disappears into the crowd.

Whatever he means.

Hyunjin has always had a knack for being cryptic anyway.

There is no proper greeting when Seungmin finds you, only a flick on your forehead.

“What’s wrong with you,” he says, but there is no grit in his voice. “You asked me to come here, and left me waiting for you for thirty minutes.”

“I was late.” You smile sheepishly, taking his hand in yours before dragging him along the pool of people to lead him outside.

He should be used to it now, the ease in which you link your hands together, as if there’s no need for a warning anymore when you’ve known each other for this long. Still, Seungmin finds it unfair. He needs it, needs the warning before you take his heart hand like this.

“You shouldn’t be asleep on a Friday night like a senior citizen.”

This senior citizen came out all the way here for you, he thinks.

“‘M going home now,” is what he chooses to say.

“No!” You suddenly stop in your tracks, just when you’re about to reach the grassy fields of the backdoor of whoever the hell owned this house.

It makes Seungmin stumble over, feet in a hurry to plant themselves on the ground so he doesn’t crash into you. When you turn to face him with a scolding look on your face, the only thing he can think about is how awfully close you are.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to proximities like these with you. “I’m already here, don’t you want to be with me?”

Seungmin sighs because he does, really does, but not in the way you’re asking right now.

“Plus, there’s supposed to be a comet tonight. I think we’ll be able to see it from here.” Your hand latches back on his, pulling him outside where the cold breeze of the night air greets you.

“There’s been a comet every night since last Wednesday.”

“But the city doesn’t quite get a view of it like this.”

By his fate, because he can never say no to you, he watches the comet falling just as you mention it.

Seungmin supposes you’re right. It is a little nicer out here compared to the light pollution of the city, and there’s a good enough distance between where you are and the painfully loud music of the house, and he doesn’t have to deal with anyone but the one person he cares about.

He chooses not to think about the eventual teasing that’s bound to come his way.

He knows Hyunjin’s spreading word around, that Kim Seungmin is actually here, and his friends already know why.

Because you’re here. What other reason does he need?

And Seungmin supposes he can sacrifice a few hours of sleep. Despite begrudgingly coming here, he doesn’t think he’d be able to trade the way you look right now—with your eyes soft and enchanted, and your features highlighted by the soft glow of the moon, and the small, but fond smile playing at your lips.

“It’s so beautiful.”

“It is.” He’s not looking where you are, and you’re too painfully distracted by the falling comet and the thousand stars blanketing the night sky to notice that he’s only ever looked at you tonight.

“Seungmin?”

His breath hitches when you suddenly turn to him, and there is no other coping mechanism he can think of but clearing his throat and looking anywhere but your eyes.

You take the moment where he’s too distracted to wrap your arms around him.

Seungmin freezes at the contact, the nudge in his heart so visible on his face. It’s a shame you have your head buried on his chest to notice the way he suddenly relaxes, hand gingerly resting on the small of your back for a second before wrapping himself entirely around you.

“Why’re you hugging me all of a sudden?” It sounds like he wants to say more, but he remains hesitant. Instead, he pulls you just a little closer.

“Thanks for coming. I know you hate going out to stuff like this, and I really do feel bad for practically forcing you. But, at the same time, I’m just really happy you came too.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nothing to feel bad about.”

Fuck, the way he says it is so awkward, and he cringes at himself for feeling this nervous around you. He tries to steady his pulse, tries to stop the rapid way in which his heart beats because he knows you can hear it.

“I stole your sleeping hours, of course I feel bad. Plus you hate parties, and yet you came here anyway.” You loosen your grip to look up at him.

You’re ill-prepared to see the tenderness in which his eyes are looking at you right now. He does that sometimes. You’ve never quite figured out why.

“Because you asked me to.” He tells you, really tries to tell you without saying too much. “I’d do anything if it was you who asked me, stupid girl.”

It feels like more of a realization to himself, and he doesn’t really want you to think about what he means. At least not tonight, not in the same night he’s come to find out just the lengths he would go through for you. His lips are parted like he wants to say more, but he decides against it. Still, his very few words will leave you blushing for the next few days after tonight and strike up a few realizations of your own.

Seungmin has known, and he’s known what he was signing up for—when he’d come here, when he’d pick you up, when he’d answer your calls at two in the morning.

He likes you a lot, and no other heart will ever make him act this way.

Not like you do.

So, for now, he’ll keep doing anything if you ask him. He’ll keep showing up until he’s ready to commit to the How To Confess scripture. He’s a simple boy, after all.

A simple boy with a simple heart that beats only for you.

[writingstoraes]

the other side 🥡

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!horner!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: this was actually a request but it somehow got lost in my inbox so im so sorry to whoever requested this 😭 i hope you still see this though and i hope u like it! lmk what u guys think hehehe

about: fans adore your support for ferrari, given your dad is literally their rival's team principal.

ynhorner

liked by therealgerihalliwell, redbullracing, charles_leclerc, and 1,201,294 others

ynhorner had the best view at monaco 🏎️

(ps. i hope my dad isn't using his instagram right now)

christianhorner I have no words....

ynhorner see u at home 😘

redgirlz LMAOOO THIS IS SO FUNNY

maxverstappen ??? Hello

ynhorner hi, max :)

daylightcharles if years ago you told me christian horner's own daughter would be openly supporting ferrari i would have laughed in your face

hamilecs not charles liking this 😭

sainzlines QUEEN DO U PLAN ON WATCHING SOMEDAY AT FERRARI'S GARAGE 🎤🎤

ynhorner i would if i'd still be my dad's daughter afterwards

ynhorner

liked by christianhorner, landonorris, pierregasly, and 1,028,248 others

ynhorner i may scream "forza ferrari sempre" during race weekends, but i am my dad's daughter still 🫡

therealgerihalliwell There we go, Dad was waiting for you to wear that 😊

ilpredestinato she is me and i am her (i too, would support ferrari to hell and back)

lovesgasly my ferrari queen ❤️

britcedesbros LOVE THE JACKET drop the link pls 🙏

ynhorner dad brought it home after seeing me check out another ferrari cap 😆

ynhorner recently added to her instagram story!

ynhorner

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, therealgerihalliwell, and 1,019,294 others

ynhorner clearing my gallery so enjoy this race week’s dump! life's good when i'm not torn between two teams; i can bust my lungs out to "super max" and forza ferrari my way every sunday ❤️

queensland mother pls tell me that man is just an uber driver

charlierari That's literally Charles 😭 loverslane reaching we can't even see the face???

paddockgirlie MAM IS THAT CHARLES PLS SPEAK INTO THE MIC

ynhorner i think my lawyer says i'd rather not say anything 😅

maxverstappen Glad to know "Super Max" is on your playlist

ynhorner are you kidding? i play that when i drive so i can get to where i'm going faster christianhorner Your karting races are not an excuse for you to overtake whenever you want, Y/N ynhorner it's okay i'm driving a ferrari anyway :D

ynhorner

liked by therealgerihalliwell, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, and 1,503,994 others

ynhorner okay maybe there's another reason why i love ferrari, but it's really not my fault they signed someone so breathtaking and loveable to be their driver 🤷‍♀️

merchamilton someone check up on christian quick

sainzzzzham Y/N IS UR DAD OKAY 😭

ynhorner oh don't worry about him, i'm sure he'll be fine!

charles_leclerc Saw the sign today, apparently that's why you sent me out to buy red poster board?

ynhorner yes, gotta stick to my ferrari girl agenda

paddocklovez MY NEW PARENTS ❤️

maxverstappen Finally, growing tired of hiding Charles when he visits the garage 😐

christianhorner So you were in on this? maxverstappen For legal reasons, I will be blocking you.

------------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy, @cxcewg, @sassyheroneckgiant (lmk if anyone else wants to be part of my taglist!)

notes: tysm for reading <3

[1x20]

hello and welcome to my tutorial on how to create gifs like this one! full explanation under the cut, but if you wanted to take a little peek at the gifset attached to this tutorial, here ya go!

for the purposes of this tutorial i am assuming you know

how to make a gif

what vhs footage looks like

STEP ONE: MAKING YOUR GIF

choose your footage and plug it into your desired software of choice! i use photoshop for this so i can only attest to the efficacy of these methods in that context

as for shot selection, you could feasibly choose anything. however, i prefer shots without too much movement in them - makes it look more like a home video.

because of the heavy amount of colors and filters, i'd recommend a gif somewhere around the 40-50 frames! but of course you can play around.

oh i also set the frame delay to 0.08 seconds. this is slower than most gifmakers tend to set theirs, but it makes it run buttery smooth imo.

STEP TWO: MAKING THE COLORING

here's where we get vhs specific. if you're unfamiliar with vhs footage, i recommend clicking through this youtube playlist! if you're not interested in the coloring, skip to step three (smart object fuckery + filters)

now while making a set i tend to choose some primary colors for my gifs. in the gifset i linked above, i chose to work with blue and orange-y yellow. in some of the other gifs i'll be using as examples (from an unfinished set) i chose green and yellow.

to create the above coloring i generally use these steps:

1) curves

i'm a maniac so i use the same curves layer to initially edit the luminosity AND colors of my gifs. the purpose of this layer is to edit brightness/contrast like i normally would and already start the process of changing the colors a little bit. this is my curves layer for the blue house gif:

to make the gif go from the left image to the right image:

as you can see i used the brightening curves to make the footage a whole lot lighter. i also increased the reds to get rid of the cyan tint a lot of blue footage has, slightly increased the blues, and once again decreased the greens to get rid of any cyan. this does make the blue hue a bit more purple, which is a nice bonus!

as for the gif of the boy, that one's a little harder to show a before and after for, but i'lls how the curves for good measure:

the original shot was already quite bright so i only edited the brightness a litttle bit. because i knew i wanted the gif to be green and yellow, i increased the greens, decreased the reds (except in the shadows), and decreased the blues (to get yellow)

2) channel mixer

now the channel mixer layer takes a little getting used to so i recommend experimenting. ALWAYS USE THIS LAYER ON THE COLOR BLENDING MODE for a more even result.

i use channel mixers to sort of... unify the colors a bit more. for the house gif, for example, i increased the blue channel to +110% blue, but decreased the blue in the red (-12%) to retain the yellow in the window.

if you want me to explain this more in depth, send an ask! it'll be kinda longwinded though

before / after of the boy gif with curves/channel mixer.

3) levels

this is where it starts looking more vhs-y! vhs footage has light shadows and dark highlights.

first, set your levels layer to luminosity blending mode to retain your beautiful colors.

then, crunch the hell out of your gif to make it very... mid.

this may feel a little wrong at first but i prommy it'll look okay at the end. a before/after for the boy:

now that's starting to look familiar right?

4) color fill/gradient map

because i want to unify my colors/make sure my gif is saturated, i usually add either a color fill or gradient map layer. in the case of the house, i chose to go with a dark blue color fill:

because the coloring of the boy gif was a little more complex, i decided to go with a brown to green gradient map.

this will make the shadows yellow, and the highlights green.

BOTH THESE LAYERS ARE SET TO OVERLAY. i usually fiddle with the opacity of them until i like it, but it's anywhere from 7% - 17% depending on what i feel like that day

5) curves (again)

this layer is probably useless but i do it anyway to make myself feel better. this is just a regular curse layer to up the brightness a tiiiiny bit and amke sure everything's clear. also it helps counteract the darkness your overlay color will add in.

6) color balance

this is my most subtle layer so i won't be able to show before and after but i fiddle with the color distribution a little until i'm satisfied. set this layer to color blending 'cause that's what you wanna affect!

i decided i wanted the house gif shadows to be a little more purple, for example, so i added in red (+3), magenta (-1) and blue (+1). etc etc. do what feels good!

STEP THREE: SMART OBJECT FUCKERY AND FILTERS

OKAY that was a lot. sorry or you're welcome. but good news: now's the fun part. convert your animation to a timeline, then select both your coloring and gif layers, right click, and select convert to smart object.

now that your gif's a smart object, i usually crop it. i tend make vhs aes gifs a 4:3 ratio (so 540 x 405 px) because that's what vhs footage was usually recorded as! crop your gif, resize, and then we can continue.

1) color bleeding

vhs footage usually bleeds its colors - this manifests as a short of... weird subtle halo around any object. the way to recreate this in photoshop is to duplicate your smart object.

set your copied smart object to color blending. now move it to the side a couple of pixels (i usually do around 5px, but you do you!)

as you can see, the tree and chimney (and everything else but less prominently) have a yellow shadow to them. this is exactly what we want!

2) filters

now's the time to add your filters and make it look like shit (but on purpose!) first, select both smart objects and convert to smart object again. this will ensure the filters apply to all layers evenly.

i use the following filters:

unsharp mask (amt 35%, radius 4px) - this will subtly add some sharpening but only on the edges of objects

add noise (amt 7.5%, distr. uniform, not monochromatic) - this will add the signature vhs grain.

box blur (2px) - i edit this to be 75% opacity with the little arrows to the right, just to make sure you can still make SOMETHING out when you're looking at the gif. MAKE SURE THIS FILTER IS ON TOP OF YOUR NOISE FILTER. tumblr will kill your gif otherwise

4) ONE LAST THING

usually at this point i'm not happy with either the saturation or levels. (usually the levels). so on top of your smart object, add another saturation or levels layer and fuck around!

in the case of the house gif, i thought it was too bright still so i set my output levels to 13 and 216. for the boy, i thought the shadows were too dark, so i set my shadow output to 11.

BEFORE & AFTER:

aaaand that's it! thanks for reading! if you have any questions, feel free to come to my askbox, i'm always happy to explain my process. happy giffing 🥰

[drdemonprince]

Can you offer any (academic) writing advice for Autistics and ADHDers? You clearly write a lot and write very well and very clearly, so some insight into your process would be great. Personally, I tend to struggle with over explaining or over citing (cause I am always getting misunderstood) and that I get very fixated on not misrepresenting what my sources are saying to avoid feeling like I'm lying. All this is time consuming and makes it hard to say what I really want to say. Thanks!

Hi there! I've written an essay about a lot of this, here is the free link to read it on Medium:

Much of my writing process is inspired by the book How to Write a Lot by Paul Silvia, and it is specifically tailored to academics. The advice applies to people who write popular nonfiction or fiction just as easily, however. And he does have advice relevant to the self-editing and self-doubt you describe feeling.

The full piece gets into this more, but here are some of the stand-out tips:

Schedule a regular time to write every week and show up no matter whether you are feeling it or not.

Throw out all your magical thinking about what you "need" to be able to write. You don't need the perfect workspace, divine inspiration, the right pen, the right playlist. You just need to show up to write regularly, and do it

Editing, outlining, working with research notes, and drafting all count as "writing." Don't expect your initial drafts to be perfect or to equate writing only with getting new words on the page.

Try writing in public spaces to help get yourself in the mindset of explaining a concept to someone with a different frame of reference and type of expertise than you. Writing in a cafe or a public library can force you think and write in a more accessible way. (alternatively, you can pretend you are explaining the concept to a specific person in your life who you respect but who doesnt have all the same reference points as you -- sometimes this is called the "Grandma Test". Explain something like you are talking to your grandma.)

In addition to all this, I would add that you should read a lot of writing, both good and bad, especially work that isn't dry and academic. If all you read is journal articles, you'll write a journal article -- and most of those are hell to read, even for academics. read fiction. read bad wattsapp shipping. read substacks. read newspapers. read indulgent personal nonfiction in the cut or whatever. read reddit posts. notice what works and what doesn't. develop an ear.

and then write a lot! it took me 15 years to get good enough for anything i wrote to get noticed. you can expect to take many years to get comfortable developing your own voice, too. i dont know how far along you are, but even when you've made tremendous progress you'll only notice your flaws and feel the most turgid brain foggy moments. that doesn't mean you're failing.

also, to some extent you can embrace your citation-dense, precise manner of self-expression. we are living in a moment of maximalism and indulgent, long creative works. it's the decade of the 5 hour youtube essay and the 2 hour album. my 5,000 word essays do better than my 2,000 word ones. you should strip down unnecessary tangents and trust yourself and your reader a little more probably, but ive found that the more blatantly autistic and indulgent my writing gets the more the right people like it. a writer's flaws and their distinctive voice are kinda hard to separate. you're not for everyone!

good luck!

[mochinomnoms]

The Private (not) Thoughts of a Moray

Gender Neutral Reader x Jade Leech

Synopsis: In theory, telepathy is a great power that can help the person understand the other better, learn dark secrets, or just be a little nosey. In your case, though, theory doesn’t always reflect reality. Slowly turning your head to the source of the (tremendously) loud thought, you saw the infamous Vice Housewarden of Octavinelle, Jade Leech. A polite, yet inscrutable smile on his face, Jade’s thoughts betrayed his nonchalant facade. Aaaaaaaah! I’m sitting in front of Y/N! I just wanna turn around and stare. Aaaaah! Little pearl, your voice is so cute, talk some more! Y/N’s class introduction…their voice was… really cute. Their moans are probably really cute too. Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit how the hell do I turn this off??? Loosely based on “Mousou Telepathy”

a03 link

spotify playlist

fanart: @nefe-kav (1/2/3/4/5/6)

[cw] – sexual humor and innuendos

[tags] – fluff, sexual humor, slightly aged-up characters, slow burn, mutual pining, more tags to follow

Edited 2/19/2024: added accompanying playlist and added all chapters with their titles

Chapter List:

chapter 1: I wonder if you look both ways (when you cross my mind)

chapter 2: I love you means you're never, ever, ever getting rid of me!

chapter 3: They say it’s gotten out of hand, and I’m obsessed with you

chapter 4: This thing called love, I just can’t handle it

chapter 5: I wanna go on walks with you, I wanna have long talks with you

chapter 6: I'm feeling blessed by a curse

chapter 7: No matter what they say, You'll never meet another me [PENDING]

chapter 8: Baby, you're like lightning in a bottle

chapter 9: Bhfuilis soranna sorcha, Ach tagais 'nós na hoíche

chapter 10: Before the dawn has come, I'd block the sun (If you want it done)

chapter 11: Son of Nyx (and thoughts of a moray)

chapter 12: Perfection is so quick to bore

chapter 13: My heart, I never be, I never see, I never know

chapter 14: You were steerin' my heart like a wheel in your hands (Turn back, darling)

chapter 15: I can hear your thoughts light a melody

[roo-bastmoon]

Thrive out spite, if necessary

The vast majority of the time, I go through the world trying to magnify the good--at least, out loud. But sometimes, life hands me a big pile of shit. (It does that to everyone.)

One of the huge shifts I had in my global perspective happened about two years ago when I had a steep uphill battle with uterine cancer. And I realized that... too much shit results in toxic shock and can kill a person. You can't take all that in and hold on to it.

Sometimes, you have to take shit and use it to fertilize your crops.

Sometimes, you have to accept that life isn't fair, and that it hands you so much shit, that if you don't start using that to your advantage, to focus and motivate you, you will get buried.

No one wants to die under a mound of shit.

It's very very VERY clear to me that the Western music industry is scared of BTS and that people in their own companies have it out for Jimin in particular. There's been issues with every release, of course, and I'm no solo or anti--but it's so, SO blatant now that Geffen executives feel empowered to mock ARMY requests for presale links on an open timeline.

And I'll be real with you, when I saw this shit unfold last night, I felt... RAGE. Because every member of BTS is a good person and a hardworking, talented artist in their own right. They all deserve the very best. But my bias in particular is one of the kindest, most humble, most altruistic people on the planet--he has never been difficult or ego-driven--and he does not deserve to be hobbled this way.

So I intend to work extra, extra hard for him. I will shovel through the shit and I will buy, and stream, and vote like a madwoman, until the very end. Even if they cull his numbers and sabotage his charts, his profits in sales and the noise made online will show him--it wasn't all for naught. He's seen, he's heard, he's appreciated, he's loved. (To be honest, he could show up in an empty grass field and sing through a bullhorn and I'd still find a way to get there and scream my lungs out for him. Nothing's gonna stop Park Jimin.)

If you're as enraged as I am and you want to do something productive with that energy, stream the hell out of your playlists and ask at least one family member and one friend to promise to buy SGMB this Friday.

And remember:

Most of the time, things blossom out of love.

But sometimes, you have to thrive out of spite.

Much love,

Roo

[tteokdoroki]

✩࿐TRACK 03: WAR WITH HEAVEN. izuku midoriya (2K)

about. upon spending time apart from your pro-hero fwb, deku, for a work trip — he quickly realises he wants it all with you. heaven, hell and life on earth.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! suggestive, sfw, slight angst, fluff, happy ending, sneaky links, long distance relationships, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, friends with benefits to lovers, journalist + fem!reader, pro hero!deku.

things to note. another saturday is upon us and so is another instalment!! i really like this one n can’t believe we’re half way through already !! anyways i hope you enjoy <3 - masterlist / series masterlist / series playlist ✩

whether you believe it or not, izuku midoriya has never been hopelessly in love. 

like most people with an overexposure to romance saturated media — the number one hero has always had that nagging feeling, craving for something more. the person to come home to, the partner, the kids and the dog that chews through the white picket fence or makes a mess on the freshly cut lawn. he wants a family like most individuals. but with a schedule as busy and a lifestyle as reckless as his…there’s hardly any time for izuku’s dreams. 

dreams were for losers, anyways. 

after high school, izuku quickly learned that dreaming wasn’t enough to get by even if it had motivated him to become a hero. reality is harsh and full of hard truths — bearing the responsibility of future number one and being all might’s prodigy had taught him that. so his rose tinted view of the future he had planned for himself quickly collapsed, the stain glass window shattering above him while its shards nicked at izuku’s youthful, hopeful skin.

he wasn’t so pure and good after leaving U.A — at least not in front of the public. behind closed doors izuku was a pessimist. he was sly and maybe a little sleazy, always on the prowl for something or someone to toy with. little deku was all grown up, no longer baby-faced and bright eyed but instead buffer with an unfairly tiny waist and an angular sharpness to his jaw that could cut diamonds. 

he was attractive and he knew it — his new found confidence bled into his sex appeal and sky rocketed his popularity and now…the number one controls the whole of Japan in the palm of his hand. everybody wants a taste of the new and improved izuku midoriya. 

everyone including you. 

mindless hookups, despite being easy stress relief, always left izuku with a sour taste in his mouth. conservations with the elite that happened to stumble into his bed never went further than superficial talk and the odd ‘lets do this again sometime’s. he hated how people would change around him, clinging onto him after a night in the sheets like deku owed them a piece of his soul. 

being the number one was no longer enough for hungry mouths. sex no longer satisfied those in his circle. 

that was until he met you. the first time deku encountered you (at a hero press junket), you had been a shy intern journalist forced to follow around her mentor with an extreme lust for the green haired hero. he felt bad for you, you were obviously there to learn and do your job but the senior professional they’d stuck you with couldn’t help but slobber all over him instead of teaching you. 

half-way through the junket, izuku had managed to sneak away from the pestering paparazzi to get a moment to himself — and it seemed, you’d had similar ideas. his initial assessment of your character was way off too. you were quiet, sure, but observant and snarky as well. a realist just like him. and somehow, you’d managed to convince him to leave to conference; get drinks at a secret roof top bar for only the highest members of japanese hero society, and talk and talk for hours about everything and anything. from quirks to the best snack combinations at the only kombini open past three AM on your street.

izuku liked you, he hadn’t felt such a spark for someone since his rookie days. you were cute, he couldn’t stop looking at your eyes and how they sparkles. your lips when you sipped the drinks he ordered for you and the way you instinctively leaned up to deku just to hear what he was saying. 

the way you ended up in his bed that night was no mystery to either of you. 

except the sensual and sultry night you shared together didn’t end there — at every event, every occasion, where journalists were required to be present, you found yourselves gravitating towards one another. one moment you’d be sharing bedroom eyes with one another from across the room and the next deku would have you bent over in bathroom stalls, his hushed moans in your ear and his fingers deep in your mouth to keep you quiet.  

months went by and the sex didn’t stop, neither of you wanted it to. you made izuku feel a little bit whole again, you made him feel good and made him laugh all in the same breath. he didn’t just like it when you left your claim on his neck bordering the line of keeping your rendezvous a secret and letting the whole world find out — but he liked it when you stayed over and wore his shirts around his luxury apartment. or came to hang out with him at his private gym with a bag of cheat-day take-out katsudon and an earful of gossip from your office. 

deku really liked you, more than he should’ve for a girl who was meant to be just a fling, more than he should’ve for someone who didn’t have time in his day for a lover.

“did you get over me?” the hero pouts into the FaceTime call, watching you struggle to grab your luggage off of the conveyer belt in baggage claim. if he were there, he’d have gotten it for you by now.

despite not being anything serious to one another, izuku had made it a habit to weasel his way into your everyday life. you sent cute little good morning and goodnight texts to one another, along with other messages like ‘get home safe’ and ‘have a good day’ too. those text messages quickly escalated to phone calls once the green haired number one admitted to you that it’s hard to fight crime whilst looking for the right kao emoji to send you.

you roll your eyes, coy smile budding on the edges of your lips. “it’s only been two hours, izuku.” you say, finally managing to grab your bag before you head out to the main lobby of the airport.

one thing about that man, is that he’s clingy as fuck. all of your attention has to be on him or he’ll feel like he might die. with you being away for the weekend at a journalism conference instead of in his arms, izuku feels like he might burn the whole world down from the ground up. just to be near you.

either that or he’s just extremely pussy whipped. 

“streets are sayin’ you might sleep with that guy from your team while you’re there, is that true?” deku fires back, running a scarred hand through the mass of curls atop his head. he lets it run down to smooth over his face, peach fuzz starting to grow through — but you made him promise not to shave until the day after you got back. apparently his light stubble against your inner thighs made you cum so much—

“—i don’t even like him like that, you big baby,” you tell him matter of factly, cutting through his train of thought and bringing your phone up to your face once more to let emerald eyes peek down your sweater. “and i think he’d get the hint if he saw all these damn marks on my neck.” 

pink blooms underneath the freckles on midoriya’s cheeks at the sight of the purple hues decorating your neck and shoulders. he remembers the extra turtlenecks you had to pack because of it. “couldn’t help it, i needed to give you a reminder of what you’d be missing while you were away from me.” 

“you’re so dramatic, deku.” 

“oh, you wound me, angel.” he purrs into the mic with a sly grin, knowing that he’s affecting you just as much as he misses you. especially when you give him a pointed glare. izuku let’s the conversation wither out as you order yourself an uber that’ll take you the hotel. he can’t help but chuckle when you perk up and notice the amount of money he’s sent you to cover the costs of it. “yanno…” deku mumbles, resting his cheeks on his knuckles. “you’re like heaven away from hell to me.” 

you won’t admit how sexy he looks, even if izuku is all googly-eyed and soft for you. even if his forest green locks curl over his pretty eyes and hide them. it almost pisses you off. that he’s so blissfully unaware of how fucking pretty he is and how that mere fact manages to ruin you you even though you’re miles apart. “what’s hell, then?”

“my work. this city. this apartment, without you.” he says smoothly, filling your stomach with butterflies. izuku has a away about him that makes you feel like you’re his entire world and only his — but there’s never been any strings attached, you’ll never fully be his and he’ll very much be the nation’s hero (and dick) until someone manages to tie him down. 

“are you asking me to move in with you, izuku?” there’s no expectancy in your voice — you say it mostly as a joke because you have no idea how much the number one pines for you. how tonight, he’ll drink himself into a stupor with his friends and whine to them about how much he misses you. izuku may have changed on the outside, may be stronger and faster but he’s still that insecure teenager on the inside. 

he has to force his knees to stop knocking whenever you’re around. he finds himself swallowing the lump in his throat whenever he thinks about the possibility of you being with someone who isn’t you. he feels sick to the stomach and panics at the thought of losing you. you mess with deku’s head in the worst of ways and yet he finds himself wanting more. nevertheless, he smiles, loving how his name sounds on the sweet glaze of your lips. 

“you’ve got a place in my bed. you’re always here anyways.” 

“you’d never let me leave it, if you had a say in the matter.” 

“you’d never have to work again if you let the number one hero take care of you angel.” izuku sighs longingly, giving you his cutest pair of puppy dog eyes that never fail to make you swoon. “but you love your job.” 

“i do.” your uber pulls up and you reply curtly so you can properly greet your driver. they aid you with your suitcase and you slip your headphones on while in the back seat to keep your special conversation private. 

“do you love me?” he can’t help but ask. izuku is hopelessly enamoured by you, you’re like a virus that’s spread across his brain and controls his every thought or action. he needs you like his lungs need oxygen to breathe — you’ve changed him for the better, shown him that maybe he can have both work and luxury. a family and foundation. with you, if you’d want him. 

“izuku.” you warn, but playfully.

“so it’s true,” the hero drawls across the line in faux disappoint  though his eyes speak mischief. “you only like me for my cock ‘n my money.” you can practically hear the pout on his pretty plump lips. 

a fondness takes over you and you can’t help but squirm happily. “and your pretty boy smile,” you squeal cutely, filling midoriya with the same amount of fondness “don’t forget.”

“so you do love me.” 

“i can’t answer that until you ask what you want to ask me properly.” 

“alright then,” sitting up, deku grasps at his phone between shaky fingers and holds it above his head — giving you the perfect view of his freckled and scared (and chiselled) body. he chews on the swell of his lower lip, dancing around the question he knows he wants to ask. “angel. i want you. more than just a fling. i want you to be mine.” he blurts, closing his eyes so that his thoughts come easy and he can’t see you reject him.

midoriya doesn’t know what he would do if he lost you, he’s seen what losing your love has done to his friends. kirishima and his partner had almost broken up with each other recently. he’d be a mess in that situation.  izuku has faced too many hardships in his life, his career, to let this one good thing slip from between his fingers. 

“will you? be mine?”

he sees you poke your tongue into your cheek, laughing as you pretend to think. “i will, izuku. i want nothing more,” you coo. “keep my side of the bed warm. i’ll be home soon.” 

relief floods through deku’s body. “don’t be too long, gorgeous.” with a couple of blow kisses, he lets you go with the reminder to call him back once you’re settled in at the hotel (so he can pay for your room service). it’s only when you’re alone again that izuku realises he’d rip stars from the sky to be with you, pull the heavens right down to earth to be by your side.

you’re everything to izuku, and for you, he’d go to war with heaven. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[softpascalito]

I To Dig a Grave I Chapter 5 I

Summary: Twenty-one years after the outbreak, you come to Wyoming looking for something and end up in Jackson after a stranger saves your life.

But he doesn't stay a stranger.

Turns out Joel Miller is looking for something too. It feels like a fresh start. But when bad luck seems to follow you, Joel is the only one to turn to, forcing both of you to confront your feelings about your pasts- and each other.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 20k+ Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Smut, Explicit Content, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Tags to be added

AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist // Playlist

notes: between writing this and the voice memo of pedro on omars new album? im in the trenches. sending all of you lots of smooches for the recent comments and feedback, please know that i do a lil jump every time i see someone has commented <3

this fic will deal with heavy topics. please note that it doesn't use archive warnings and tags will be added as we go in order to avoid spoilers. each chapter will have detailed warnings in the end notes on ao3.

Chapter 5 – The Wake

‘I don’t mind so much being haunted by a dead ghost, but I resent like hell being haunted by a half-dead one.’ — J.D.Salinger, Franny and Zooey

The typewriter is fixed by the time you get up. But before you can sit down and ponder how to begin your speech, Joel forces you downstairs for some breakfast. He has somehow gotten his hands on orange juice and refuses to let you leave the table before you’ve had two glasses and some toast.

Eventually, he clears his throat. “We could grab some of your stuff today, if you want.” He pauses for a moment, searching your face. “Or I could, if you prefer to—if you’d rather stay here.”

The thought of going back home seems unbearable. The thought of Joel leaving you alone seems almost as bad.

“Can’t we do that tomorrow? I’d rather—I want to finish the speech. And we’re leaving in a bit.”

“Okay,” Joel mumbles. “Okay, yeah, we can do it some other time.”

You both head back into his workshop upstairs afterwards. He’s laid out some paper and pulled up a more comfortable chair for you. He settles down on his own and watches as you hesitantly begin to type, occasionally glancing out of the window. It’s begun to snow again, the thick flakes drifting against the other side of the glass and beginning to pile up on the windowsill below.

“If it keeps snowing like that, they won’t be able to prepare the grave, will they?”

Joel stares at the book that's spread out in front of him, determined not to let your eyes meet.

“I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”

They're not the words he should be saying. But they are the only ones able to push past his throat and flow into the open.

***

“Watch out for the steps, they’re frozen over.” Joel closes the front door behind himself, taking his first breath of cold air. It’s still snowing and he watches as the first flakes settle on your coat. He hurriedly pushes his gloves onto his hands and follows you down the small flight of stairs that leads to the street.

You place your feet carefully, partly because you would not find slipping and landing on your butt entertaining and partly because your body feels like it belongs to someone else again. You automatically turn to your left but Joel catches your arm before you can begin to move down the street. He jerks his head to the street ahead of you instead, the one that follows along the walls of the graveyard. They seem to have gotten much taller than they were a few days ago.

“We can get to the church through here,” Joel says, his hand squeezing your arm before he lets it go. “Less people.”

“Good point,” you agree quietly and begin moving again, this time across the street and past the green house on the corner. Joel follows your lead, putting himself between you and the graveyard, his broad form shielding you from view.

Which is a stupid thought, you think after a few moments. It's not you he is trying to hide. You are the one he's hiding something from.

You slow down a little, making Joel glance back at you. As his hand nudges yours again, you notice that his gloves are the same ones he wore when you met. A little more worn down maybe, but still the same leather, the same shade of brown. And here he is, still saving you, even if in a completely different way.

“Come on. We’ll be late.” Joel pulls on your hand lightly and you begin walking again. You don’t let go of his hand though. He doesn’t mention it.

When you pass the large metal gate that opens to the cemetery, you automatically turn your head. “It’d be quicker through here.”

Joel's head swirls around at that. “No.” You almost think you feel a slight tremor in his hand as he shakes his head. “I think it's better if we stay on the street for now.”

His hand is still in yours so you don’t find it in yourselves to argue, even if you find the cemetery quite beautiful. It feels less like a cemetery and more like a small park, with high trees and benches, a small oasis from the occasionally busy life in Jackson.

You can’t really tell if you’ll still find it beautiful once Lane's name will be carved into one of the headstones.

The two of you walk in silence for the remainder of the way. As you reach the far end of the church and when your gaze moves past the library shed tucked away to the side of it, you make a mental note to check in there once you’re done. You try and distract yourself by keeping your eyes on it, thinking about which books you could take home to pass the time with, trying to make a mental list.

But as soon as you step over the holy threshold, you can’t name a single one. The scent of burned down candles and wood greets you.

“I think I may pass out.”

Joel instantly switches his hands, wrapping his free arm around you, no doubt ready to catch you if your knees do give out. “Like right now?”

“No, I—I've just—never done this before,” you choke out. You’ve seen Infected and bodies and funerals. But there’s never been a wake. People just die and rot in this world. 

You suddenly feel like you want to cry and desperately try to pull yourself together. If this is the last chance to say goodbye, you want to do it with grace and you want to do it right. For Lane’s sake.

You take a shaky step forward and Joel takes the hint, moving you further down the hallway and stopping in front of a door to the left that is slightly ajar. His arm is still around you, his hand resting in yours.

“Want me to wait here?” His voice is low.

“Is she in there?” Your voice is equally quiet, matching the somber atmosphere around you.

Joel takes in your features for a moment before giving a slow nod. “Yeah. Yeah, she’s in there.”

“Can we go in together?”

You are certain you do come near to passing out when you step into the room, pressing your body against Joel’s, unconsciously using him as a shield. There is a small table full of candles to your left, a stained glass window half covered by snow at the far end of the room and two mismatched chairs to the right.

You do not see any of it. The second the door opens, your eyes are on her.

She’s bedded in a wooden coffin with white sheets. Her skin is almost as pale. The stark contrast that draws your eyes in is her hair. Ocean blue, the tips already losing their color.

Joel looks down at you, carefully and slowly disentangling himself from you. “Would you like a moment alone?” The small nod is all he needs to see, squeezing your hand once more before heading back outside, leaving the door ajar.

It suddenly strikes you how still she is. A body, usually so full of life, decorated by countless miniscule motions. The corners of her lips turning upward, the anxious turning of the silver rings on her fingers, a strand of hair falling into her face.

You move closer. You sit next to her. You stroke her cheek. She looks like she’s sleeping very deeply.

Joel lets out an involuntary sigh as he steps back out into the hallway. They managed to get the blood out of her hair, covered the right side of her head with a pillow. It almost looked comfortable. And he feels like he can breathe again. It’s a much better sight than the one in the cabin. You shouldn't have to remember her wounds. Only her face.

But he finds that he’s glad to get a moment alone. Because unlike you, he knows exactly what her temple looks like under the dainty, white pillow.

He sits down on one of the wooden benches lining the hallway, making sure to keep his movements quiet. Not because there is an enemy around. But because the wooden structure around him takes him right back.

He hasn’t been to a service in forever, not even before the outbreak. But the high ceiling and the stagnant air still make him automatically lower his voice, making him feel like he’s all of eight years old again and dressed for Sunday service with his parents somewhere just outside of Austin.

He hasn’t had time to consider how to do this, a small voice in the back of his head says. He hasn’t considered how the hell he will get you through this in one piece, if he is the one that should be doing so. There is so much baggage in him, tucked away into the dusty corners of his house, that he’s surprised you haven’t found it yet.

He stares at the floor and wonders if it had been easier for him to move on if he’d been able to say goodbye in a pretty room, surrounded by candles and lacy pillows, with high ceilings above. And for a split moment, he allows himself to imagine the hair resting on white sheets not to be blue but dark brown and curly.

Joel is leaning against the wall of the hallway when you finally emerge from the room, managing a weak smile. He stays quiet as you step towards him, raising your arms to sneak them around his body while you bury your face in his chest.

You can feel the exhale of his lungs below you as he sighs, bringing his arms around you and pulling you into him.

It comes so naturally now. The way he rests his chin on the top of your head, your hair tickling his graying beard. The feeling of your face pressed tightly into him, clearly having found a place where you can hide from the questions you already know people are asking.

Joel's hand caresses your back in gentle motions. His voice remains as quiet as it was earlier. “Did you say goodbye, darlin’?”

“Yeah,” you mumble into his chest, giving a shaky nod. “Yeah, I did.”

“Wanna take a break and go back in? Or come back later?” he offers quietly. He knows exactly how hard it is to let go—to walk away from the last piece that they leave behind when they leave the earth. The body holds so many memories.

“No, I think—I think it’s okay.” Hot tears have gathered in your eyes and threaten to spill into Joel's shirt. “I think I said goodbye.”

Joel quietly coos at you for a few more moments before he begins leading you back outside. He’s content to leave the church behind that feels so laden with bad memories despite it holding none.

You're just leaving the small hallway and passing back through the church when he abruptly moves you to his side, putting a small amount of distance between you. His arm is still wrapped around your waist but it's less strong, merely enough support to keep you from falling back.

“Oh. Hello, you two.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you stare at the woman in front of you. She has short hair that's tied in a neat bun. The lines and wrinkles on her face seem to have increased rapidly since you have last seen her. She's wrapped in her black winter coat, one that is slightly too big for her small frame and almost reaches her knees. You realize that all her clothes are, in fact, black, even if some are slightly faded.

You feel Joel shift again beside you. “Ma’am.”

With a quick motion of your free hand, you wipe your eyes. It feels silly to be crying in front of her. You’ve lost a best friend.

She has lost a daughter.

“Mrs Moss, I’m so sorry—I meant to come by, I swear,” you blurt out, hoping that you sound as honest as you are. The tears threaten to come back.

“It’s quite alright, dear. I know it can’t have been easy for you,” she says gracefully. “And it’s Deborah, I’ve told you before. Eleanor’s friends are—” For a split moment, you can see something twinkling in her eyes before she corrects herself, carrying on as if nothing happened. “Eleanor’s friends were always welcome in my house.”

Your heart feels like it’s stopped. Eleanor. You almost forgot that Lane wasn’t her real name, despite it feeling more real than Eleanor ever has. You try and remember the story behind it and you’re certain it had something to do with her grandmother but you can’t recall the entire thing. You make a point not to ask.

The woman in front of you stays quiet. Her eyes wander between you and Joel for a moment, sending a completely different kind of discomfort through your body.

“Well, I’d like to go inside now,” Mrs Moss announces quietly and Joel and you shift to the side to let her pass. She gives you another sad smile in passing. “You’ll be there for the ceremony, won’t you? Eugene came by this morning. They are clearing the receiving vault out today.”

Joel tenses next to you, his grip getting a tiny bit tighter. You just stare blankly at the woman in front of you. “Receiving vault?”

You bite down on the inner side of your cheek.

“Oh, it’s what they call that small building. Of course, once spring comes around, we’ll bury her properly.”

Mrs Moss does not seem to realize what she has just set into motion or that all of these details were complete news to you. She gives Joel a small, polite nod and continues down the hall.

The taste of blood fills your mouth.

You don’t hold hands on the way back.

***

You brush past Joel the instant he opens the door and, while he is still stripping off his gloves, hurry into the small bathroom at the end of the hall. It’s rarely used and has become more of a makeshift storage room if you’re being honest. A few plastic containers are piled up next to the sink and you squeeze around them before letting your tired body sink onto the toilet lid.

You can hear Joel hesitate in the hall, his heavy boots on the wooden floors audible through the thin door. You can't see the way his face is scrunched up in worry—and guilt. The guilt that threatens to swallow him whole as he briefly glances at the small cupboard under the stairs, one of the few that is locked. He knows you won’t check there.

With a small sigh, he follows down the hall, hesitating in front of the bathroom door. He leans against the doorframe, his gaze fixed on the floor.

“I meant to tell you.”

No reply comes. But he can hear your breath, the small squeak of your shoes as you move your feet on the toilet seat. You’re pressing them to your chest as tightly as you can.

She won’t be buried. She will be stored in the back of some shed like something you plan to forget.

“If I’d known she’d be there—” Joel shakes his head despite knowing that you can’t see him. His hand flies to his face, pinching his nose as he closes his eyes, trying to find the right words to make you understand that he needs to do this, that this is his job. He’s supposed to protect you. And he failed miserably, letting you walk right into Lane’s mum with no clue about the arrangements.

“I would’ve told you in time. I swear.”

The hand leaves his face and instead gravitates towards the doorknob. He pauses for a moment, the metal cool under his touch. “Honey, can I please come in?”

“Fine,” you press out, keeping your gaze fixed on the plastic containers below. You don’t want to look at him. Mainly, you don’t want him to look at you.

Joel gets to his knees, unable to suppress the small groan as he does so. He hesitantly reaches out to place a hand on your knee, squeezing a little. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I thought it was—not the right moment.”

“Okay.” You nod, determined to punish him with as many one-worded sentences as you can. Today has been one bad surprise after another and it’s entirely his fault—except you know that’s not true. But you’re not ready to place the blame on the person who may deserve it—you’re not ready to think of Lane with anything but fondness and longing. And maybe, a tiny part of you pipes up, one that you’d much prefer to be quiet, maybe you know that Joel will take the blame if you place it upon him, that he would proudly carry your hate like a crown and still let you eat his food and still let you sleep in his bed.

Your eyes meet his and he looks so miserable, broad shoulders still wrapped in his winter coat, his hair slightly wet from the melted snow and his eyes. His eyes, begging, asking to be forgiven.

The thoughts of blame and hate are gone in an instant. Instead, the tears that you didn’t allow to come in the church and all the way back home, finally spring up in your eyes.

“I didn’t think—when that man died last year in the winter—” you choke out, the thoughts forcing their way into the tiny bathroom. “They buried him, he got a grave—”

Joel brings his free hand up to your face just in time to catch the first tear rolling down your cheek and wiping it away, his calloused hand smoothing over your skin.

“Darlin’, he was sick. You know that, right?” Joel keeps his voice low and soft and his motions slow. Like he is approaching a sick animal, trying not to startle it.

You didn’t know that he’d been sick, to be truthful. But you also don’t see how that made a difference.

It’s almost like Joel can read your mind. He tilts his head a bit. “They knew he was gonna pass, sooner or later. They dug his grave in the fall.”

You can’t help the sob that escapes you at that. Because it’s a horrible, horrible thing, digging a grave for someone who is still alive. And because it’s a horrible, horrible thing to not be able to.

“No one dug—'' You think you feel snot running down your face. “We didn’t know—No one dug a grave for Lane—”

“Yeah,” Joel agrees quietly, his voice filled with a heaviness. “No one dug a grave for Lane.”

No one knew she’d need one.

Joel lets you cry, even when his knees are screaming at him to get off the bathroom tiles. He pats your arm and wipes your tears. He doesn’t try to cheer you up or make you see the bright side or, worst of all, tries and tell you that Lane is a better place. You both know her place was here.

He lets you wear yourself out from crying before he asks if you want a bath and, following a shy nod, scoops you up in his arms and carries you upstairs into the bathroom, the one you actually use.

The small moment of hesitation after he’s set you down on the edge of the tub is his way of asking for permission. You give a tired nod.

He lets you undress and climb into the tub while he begins to heat the water, insisting on placing a towel below you so that the porcelain won’t be too cold on your skin.

It doesn’t take long until the air in the room is comfortably warm and steamy and the faint smell of jasmine and cotton fills the air, replacing the lingering one of old buildings and grief. You feel like you’re transported back to the first time you were curled up in Joel Miller's bathtub, the first day you’ve ever spent in Jackson.

“Lean a little to the side,” he instructs quietly, lathering the top of your head with the shampoo and working it into your hair. His fingers are scratching circles into your skin, making you feel like he’s washing off all the things you’d like to see disappear down the drain. The sorrow and the pain. You don’t touch the guilt yet.

“Do you remember the last time you did this?” you mumble and hear Joel hum behind you as you continue. “I wouldn’t let you cut my hair.”

“You also called me an asshole.” You are glad your head is slightly lowered so that Joel can’t see you smile. Then again, you have a feeling he knows.

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

His fingers work around your head, gently tilting it into whatever direction he needs to reach every part of it. He surprises himself when he speaks up.

“You know what you looked like?” Your head perks up slightly at that, attempting to turn around but Joel guides your head back with a gentle motion. Because he doesn't want shampoo to get into your eyes. Definitely not because turning around would mean seeing—

“Tell me,” you insist, despite keeping your gaze forward now.

“No, nevermind, it’s—it’s silly.” He tries to brush you off but you aren’t having it.

“Joel. Come on. Please?”

He can see you’re on the verge of turning around again and reckons it’ll be easier to just answer your question instead of having to deal with all the thoughts he is so successfully pushing away.

“You looked like a fawn. Curled up, trembling. Waiting on someone.” “I wasn’t waiting on anyone.”

“I know you weren’t.”

You sit in comfortable silence, tilting your head back as Joel pours warm water over your head. He steps back into the bedroom to grab some fresh clothes, leaving you to wash your skin and dry off by yourself.

“They’re not much but they should do until we get some of yours,” Joel mutters as he hands you one of his worn shirts. You pull it over your head, each part of it a bit too big on your body. The collar is draped slightly to one side, making your soft skin peek out from under the fabric.

Joel smiles weakly, trying so hard to avert his gaze. But not enough to miss you struggling with your hair, attempting to pull the still wet strands into a bun.

“C’mere,” he instructs, taking another step towards you and reaching around your head to take the hair tie from your hands and carefully gathering all your hair in his right fist. You’re left there without distraction, without anything to do except stare up at him, so close that you can make out the gray hairs in his beard and the small scar that decorates his nose.

“There we are,” Joel mutters, securing the hair tie before hesitating for another moment as his gaze shifts down to your face, your eyes meeting.

He’s looked at you hundreds of times. So he’s not sure why, at this moment, his lungs suddenly seem to stop working, drowning in the softness of your eyes that seem to be completely focused on him. For a split second, he thinks he sees your gaze flicker downwards.

One of his hands finds a strand that escaped his grip before and he tucks it behind your ear, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You still look like that sometimes.”

He is so close. If one of you leaned just a tiny bit forward—

The moment is over as suddenly as it appeared. Joel drops his hands a little too quickly to be casual about it, taking two steps back. Like he’s gotten too close to something dangerous.

But you're not dangerous, a small voice in the back of his head says. You’re just a fawn.

He cannot touch you. He is certain of one thing: He would find a way to ruin you.

***

A few months ago, being back in Joel’s bathroom would've been your favorite thing in the world. And it’s still good and comforting. But it’s not the same.

You give yourself to brief illusions. That this is your first day in Jackson, that you don’t know anything about the man beside you except his name and that he carries his gun in the back of his jeans. That you will be taken to your new home in a few days and meet your roommate, the one with blue hair you’ve already spotted around town.

But you know it won’t happen. You had another shot at life here, the chance to do and say all the right things this time. And you failed.

You can feel the mattress dip beside you as Joel crawls under the thick covers. It’s nice to feel the heat of his body next to yours, to feel him shelter you with what he can. He sleeps on the side that is closest to the bedroom door, leaving you tucked away to the more closed off one.

But it never makes you feel trapped. Quite the opposite. Anyone who hopes to reach you will have to pass by him. You wish that grief too could be politely turned away or chased off with a drawn gun. But it seeps through the cracks of the old wooden house, drifting through the hallways, spreading its arms and placing itself right on your chest.

The thin curtains are drawn but you can still see the faint shimmer of the snow that’s stacked up outside, reflecting the lights of the few lamp posts that line Rancher Street. You move your head just enough to be able to stare at the silhouette of the window, wondering if any of the candles next to Lane are still burning or if she’s already shut away in the receiving vault, without any light at all.

Joel sighs softly beside you, his gaze following yours and lingering there for a few moments. “Want to talk about it?”

You both know what but you still find it an odd question. You do talk to him about Lane, more than anyone else even. He’s not touching you and something tells you that it has to do with what happened in the bathroom before. Just that nothing actually happened, you tell yourself. But you don’t dare to bring that up. Defense is better.

“Talk about what?”

“About whatever is keeping you from closing your eyes,” he mumbles quietly, his eyes back on you. “I know it ain’t easy but you need a few hours of sleep at least.”

“She’s there when I close my eyes,” you whisper into the quiet room, tensing slightly at just the idea of it. Of her. You don’t understand how something you love so much can feel so unwelcome in your head.

“I didn’t know you had bad dreams,” Joel muses quietly.

“It’s not that. But she must feel so alone. And confused,” you whisper, curling up a little more into yourself, as if that will protect you from the images that keep forcing themselves to the front of your mind.

“Honey, she’s not—she doesn’t feel those things anymore, okay?” Joel sighs beside you, hesitating for a small moment before reaching out and lightly rubbing your shoulder. “I promise it’ll get better once you get the ceremony over with.”

You both stay quiet for a few moments, both thinking about graves and funerals and those you’ve lost. There are so many you’ve lost.

“Can I ask you a question?” you pipe up, your voice trembling a tiny bit. You’ve never outright asked him—only taken what information he gave willingly, which was very little.

“If you promise to try and sleep after.” Joel chuckles quietly, leaning back into the pillows. The small laughter dies on his lips as he hears your question.

“Did you have a funeral for her?”

The small intake of breath to your right tells you he didn’t expect this. You immediately feel your stomach give a lurch as you sit up slightly. “Sorry, you don’t—I shouldn’t have brought it up—”

“No.” Somehow, despite his voice being very quiet and low, it’s strong enough to make you fall silent in an instant. You bite your lip as you try and make out Joel’s face but it’s too dark to do so without moving closer and you’re afraid that one more misstep will have him either running off or throwing you out of the house.

“It all happened very fast, with Sarah.” His voice quivers a tiny bit as he says her name. “We were lucky to make it out at all. Tommy took—He got us out.”

Maybe it’s your tired mind playing tricks on you, but Joel doesn’t sound like he feels very lucky about having made it out. You can’t blame him. Some part of you, too, feels like you should have been with her, in that cabin. Should be with her in the vault. That there should be two graves waiting to be dug instead of one.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, again, because apparently you are not good at finding the right words and you feel just like you did in front of Mrs Moss earlier today, just that this is Joel and that is precisely what makes it so much more difficult and so much worse.

“It was a long time ago,” is all he says.

To your surprise, the quiet that follows is not uncomfortable. Maybe because he feels that you understand, at least partly. Or maybe you’re just two very tired people, glad to have each other to hold on to.

After a few minutes, you can feel him turn towards you in the dark, opening his body up so that you can shift a bit closer, the excuse about the night being so incredibly cold dying on your lips when you feel how readily Joel wraps his arm around you, pulling you into him. You press your face into his chest, taking a deep breath that actually makes you feel like breathing comes a little easier. Your hands sneak around him, holding on. Always holding on.

A small sigh leaves Joel’s throat, his voice so low you can barely hear it.

“Let’s get some sleep, little fawn.”

thank you very much for reading! if you like this fic, please consider supporting me by rebloggin or liking or whichever buttons you prefer to press <3 if you have any feedback, it is also very welcome!

[gojosnympho]

summertime fine - j.yh

**this is part two to spring fling. it can be read standalone or you can read the first part by clicking on the link 🥰

pairing: yunho x black!fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff, light angst

word count: 6.8k

content warnings: established relationship, multiple sex scenes, phone sex, mutual masturbation, lil possessiveness from both yunho and reader, fingering (fem receiving) shower sex, unprotected sex (no), creampies, breeding kink, oral sex (m and f receiving), he puts a thumb in her butt (i’m sorry), mentions of pregnancy

synopsis: you finally get the chance to reunite with the love of your life.

playlist: SUMMER - the carters

author’s note: guess who finally finished pt 2 of spring fling 🤭. y’all gone jump me? be honest! i’m so sorry it took me so long to finish it. i hope y’all enjoy it!

tags: @ariesunz

summertime was just around the corner. you hadn’t seen yunho since you left cancún and it broke your heart everyday you weren’t with him. you texted and talked everyday though despite the time difference. it wasn’t the same as being with him: touching him, kissing him, hugging him, fucking him.

it was nighttime where you were so after a long day you were in bed trying to sleep but you couldn’t. you wished you were in bed with your boyfriend. you wished he was here. without much reluctance you found his contact and pressed the facetime button.

the phone rang twice before he picked up with a smile, “hey baby. shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“i can’t sleep. i miss you too much,” you pouted and yunho chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. you missed playing with his hair.

“i miss you too, baby,” he told you. “did you get the presents i sent you?” he asked with a smirk on his lips.

you nodded, panning the camera down to show him. it was a gold necklace with his initial dangling from it on a pendant. you then lifted your leg up to the camera so he could see the other piece of jewelry: a gold anklet with his initial also dangling from it. they came in the mail this morning. “they’re so pretty. i love them.”

“and i got this to match it,” he pulled down the collar of his shirt to show you a gold chain with your initial. your heart skipped a beat. he was so thoughtful and just the thought of him walking around with your initial so close to his heart almost made you tear up. the fact that everybody knew who he belonged to was an added plus but you wouldn’t tell him that.

“i love you,” you told him.

“and i love you,” yunho said, blowing a kiss to the camera. “you need to get some sleep. i’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“can we stay on just a little bit longer? i like hearing your voice,” you admitted. you were completely and utterly fucking whipped and you loved every second of it. who better to be whipped for than him?

yunho chuckled, “sure, babe.”

you talked for a few more minutes until yunho told you to go to sleep. you exchanged one more “i love you” before hanging up. you rolled over in bed, staring up at your ceiling while your thoughts were plagued with everything yunho. his smile, his face, his voice, his scent, his dick. you were going crazy without him. you didn’t think you could take another week of not seeing him. hell, you didn’t think you could take another day. you brought your hand to your neck and fidgeted with the golden ‘y’ around your neck until you fell asleep.

you didn’t even get a chance to have breakfast before your phone was ringing with a facetime call from your beloved boyfriend. sitting up in bed, you pressed the green button.

“didn’t we just talk?” you teased him

“yeah but now it’s my turn to go to bed and i wanted to talk to you before i did,” he admitted and you giggled, heat rushing to your cheeks. “and you look cute in the morning.”

“just in the morning?” you asked, finally getting out of bed and making your way to the bathroom to start your day.

“nah, you look cute in the morning but the rest of the day you look sexy,” he told you matter of factly. you nodded in understanding, propping your phone up on your sink so he could watch you as you washed your face and brushed your teeth.

“can i be honest?” yunho asked you, sinking even more into his comfy looking bed. you nodded, drying your face. “i want you so bad right now.”

you froze, “what?”

“i want you. i miss you, baby. i wanna fuck you,” yunho told you with the slightest hint of a moan.

it wasn’t uncommon for him to be so bold so you weren’t sure why you were so rattled. maybe it’s because you’d just woken up not too long before and your brain was still trying to catch up with the rest of your body. he smirked at your doe eyed expression, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted you.

“you wanna help your man with something?” he questioned you

“yes. anything,” you responded meekly.

“that’s a good girl,” the praise that left his lips went right to your pussy. “go back to your bed for me,” his voice was low and raspy. you did as told going back to lay on your bed. yunho smiled at how good you were for him and gave you another instruction. “take off your shirt.”

it wasn’t the first time you and yunho had phone sex. even though you were apart, both of you had needs and what better way to take care of them than over a facetime call. you pulled your shirt over your head, dropping it off the side of your bed. you panned the camera down so that yunho could see your pretty tits and your pretty brown nipples.

“they’re so pretty, baby. so perfect,” he praised you before propping his phone up so you could see what he was doing. his hand was palming the bulge beneath the fabric of his sweats and you could see just how hard he was. “play with them for me, mama. show me how you want me to touch you.”

you propped your phone up too. you began to play with your breasts like he’d asked, taking the mounds of flesh in your hands and kneading them like he’d done on so many of those hot cancún nights. you moaned, fluttering your eyes shut as you recalled how good his hands felt on your body. you pinched your nipples with your pretty manicured fingers and yunho grunted. you opened your eyes again to see that he pulled his dick out of his pants and was steadily stroking himself while he watched you.

“that feel good?” he asked and you hummed in response with a nod. “you want more?”

“yes, yunnie.”

“take off your thong. let me see you.”

he watched you as you pulled the thin piece of fabric off and threw it to join your shirt on the floor. you leaned back into your pillows and opened your legs for him to see the wet mess he created. yunho sucked in a breath, his hand beginning to pump faster up and down his dick. you trailed your pretty manicured hand down your body to your pussy. your middle finger found your clit and you gasped at the contact.

“you’re so fucking pretty and perfect. fuck baby,” yunho praised you some more. it encourages you to rub your clit even faster. you moaned out, yunho returned the gesture. yunho’s strokes matched the pace of the little figure eights you were rubbing into your clit. both of your moans were whiny and desperate. it was so obvious you guys needed each other.

“i need you inside me so bad,” you whined out and just like that yunho finally let go cumming all over his fist. you kept rubbing yourself until you came with a breathy moan.

when your heartbeat went back to normal and the ringing in your ears stopped, you lazily reached for your phone. you gave yunho a smile that he returned. you both cleaned up, yunho was relaxed in bed when you finally spoke to him.

“i want to have sex with you for real. i can’t take this anymore,” you complained, dramatically falling back onto your bed.

yunho chuckled, “i know baby. i do too.”

“i wanna come visit!” you told him with a pout. he smiled again at how adorable you were. he just adored you so much.

“you sure you wanna come here instead of me coming to you?” he inquired

“yes! i’ve never been to korea. i wanna come yunnie,” you gave him those pretty, brown puppy dog eyes that you learned he could never say no to. you batted your eyelashes for added effect.

“alright, baby girl. if that’s what you want. i’ll buy you a ticket,” he agreed and you squealed in excitement, hiding your face in your pillow. you were gonna see him again after three months.

“i can’t wait to see you, boo,” you told the man on the other end of the phone.

“i can’t wait to see you.”

…

yunho hated that you were traveling alone. he was so anxious the whole day, all he could think about was you and your safety. that’s why he would’ve preferred if he came to you, but he knew you could handle yourself. that sentiment didn’t make him any less anxious though. he called and texted you at every opportunity to check up on you.

you smiled whenever his name popped up on the screen. you texted him back almost immediately every time to tell him you were okay. you loved how caring he was and that you being comfortable and safe was his top priority. traveling by yourself to a completely different country was scary but he made it so much easier. you loved him so much and you couldn’t wait to see him.

you landed in south korea finally after being on a plane for what felt like days. you were anxious to get off the plane and meet yunho inside the airport. you made it through baggage claim and then headed to the pick up area to meet yunho. you didn’t see him at first to your dismay, he should be easy to spot. you stood on your tiptoes to search over the heads of the people who were probably also searching for their loved ones.

“looking for someone?” a voice from behind you asked. a voice you’d come to love. you turned around and literally jumped into his arms. yunho squeezed you so tight you almost couldn’t breathe but you loved every second of it.

“i missed you so much,” you murmured, your face buried in the crook of his neck.

“i missed you,” he said back to you. he sat you back down on the ground and gave you a once over before giving you a sweet kiss on your lips. “c’mon,” he grabbed the handle of both of your suitcases in one hand and your hand in the other. “let’s get you home so you can rest.”

home. it sounds so good falling from his lips. you nodded, walking with him back to where he parked his car. you were almost taken back by how expensive it looked. it was an all black sports car, even the rims for his tires were blacked out. the windows were so tinted you couldn’t even see inside. you knew yunho had money but now it’s really dawning on you that he had money. maybe that expensive purse he got you for a gift should’ve been the first clue, or the gold pieces of jewelry around your neck and ankle. hell, the gold piece of jewelry around his neck too. you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t like it though. a loving and caring boyfriend and he’s rich too? what girl would hate that?

yunho put your suitcases and carry on in his trunk and then opened the door to the passenger side for you. you thanked him before sliding inside the cushy sports car. the interior was just as expensive looking as the outside, with dark red leather seats with black trimming. his car smelled like him, it relaxed you. you were finally with him after months of not seeing him. it was surreal. it’s like it wasn’t even happening. yunho got on the driver’s side and offered you his phone to play whatever music you wanted to play.

“you must really love me, huh?” you asked the man as you scrolled through all of his saved songs. none of them looked appealing enough to you though so you decided on an old r&b song your mom used to play for you.

“you know i do,” he replied. he grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it so gently you felt like you were going to melt into a puddle right there in that seat. he stole a quick glance at you, his eye catching the gold necklace around your neck and the way it danced in the sunlight. yunho loved the fact that everybody knew who you belonged to. he’d never tell you that though.

“last time we were in a car together we ended up fucking on the hood,” you pointed out to your boyfriend. he glanced at you again, this time with a smirk splayed on his pretty lips.

he used one of his hands to squeeze your thigh, “wanna go for round two?”

you pushed his hand off of you playfully, “you’ll get some pussy later.”

“you know i’ll always wait for you, baby.”

he always knew exactly what to say to make your heart skip a beat. nobody has ever made you feel the way he did, so loved, adored, and happy. you’ve only known him for a few months but it feels like you’ve known him for years.

surreal was the word of the day because that’s how you felt walking through yunho’s apartment. you’d only ever seen it via facetime calls and the pictures he sent you from various places in the apartment. the common area alone was huge, with a big ass flat screen tv mounted on the wall, a very big couch, a ping pong table situated in the corner of the room, and glass paned windows that made the room seem even more open. it was clean too, cleaner than you left your apartment before coming here. you wondered if he cleaned it himself.

“let me show you upstairs,” he grabbed your hand and your suitcase again, leading you upstairs to his room. the room you’d seen on facetime so many times you were sure you’d seen every inch. the bed was just as big as you imagined and you were excited to be sharing a bed with him again after all these months. “the bathroom is in there if you wanna shower.”

“can you join me?” you asked him

“i can’t promise i’m gonna keep my hands to myself,” he warned you

“who said i wanted you to?” your voice was low and seductive. it reminded yunho of the first time you ended up in bed together. just that question had blood rushing to his dick.

the shower really did start off as a shower. it took a turn when yunho pressed himself against you, his hard dick on your back making you shudder, “you think your little pussy can still take me after all this time?” his lips were on your ear as he massaged circles into your hips.

“it’s yours so i think so,” you teased the man. you pushed yourself back on him making him grunt and dig the pads of his fingers into your hips that he was previously massaging. he pressed you against the cool tile of his shower and smashed his lips into yours. it didn’t take long for him to reach between your bodies, lips still on yours, to start rubbing your clit. you moaned into his mouth before you pulled away so you could look him in his eyes while he played with you.

“your pussy miss me as much as you did?” he asked you. you were about to reply but the words didn’t even get a chance to slip past your lips before he was pushing one of his long fingers into your pussy. you threw your head back with a loud whine. “you’re sucking it right up, baby. did you miss my fingers?”

“yes.”

he stuffed another finger inside of you, scissoring you open so good you were seeing stars. “your fingers can’t make you feel this good huh?” he curled them inside of you and you could feel the pads of his fingers massaging that spot so deep inside you. it felt so fucking good. he was right about your fingers. your fingers weren’t long enough to reach where his could. that’s why it was so frustrating not being able to fuck him whenever you wanted. you couldn’t get yourself off the way yunho can. “answer me, sweetheart.”

“no,” you began, losing your thought halfway through when he started fingering you faster. even over the loud splattering of the warm shower water you could hear the squelching of your wet pussy. “yunho. please don’t stop.” you begged him. your hand wrapped around his wrist in an attempt to make sure he didn’t stop like you’d asked. you were getting so close to your orgasm and you’d be damned if it got ripped away.

he didn’t stop. in fact, he sped up. you cried out his name with a loud moan that had yunho moaning right along with you. your hands went to grip his biceps as your pussy fluttered helplessly around his two fingers. “you gonna cum on my fingers?”

“mhm. i’m gonna cum for you,” you told the man. he kept up that brutal pace on your pussy, fingering you and murmuring praises to you until you were cumming all over his fingers with a moan so loud you were almost sorry for his neighbors. yunho pulled his fingers from your pulsing pussy and wasted no time taking the digits in his mouth to suck them clean.

“just as sweet as i remember you, princess,” yunho hummed

you didn’t even get a chance to recover from your orgasm before yunho was rubbing his tip through your folds. he took his bottom lip between his teeth, centering himself because he knew if he was too hasty he was gonna cum fast. he continued to rub himself through your folds and finally, finally he pushed in. the gasp that he let out almost didn’t sound like it came from the deep voiced man. it was more whiny and desperate than you’d ever heard him.

“i missed you and this pussy so much.”

no words left your mouth because yunho started rocking his hips into you, turning everything that came from your throat into a sweet symphony of moans. you wanted to tell him how much you missed him but you guessed the way your pussy was sucking him in was enough for him. he kissed you, swallowing every moan that came from your mouth.

“that feel good, babe?” yunho asked, snapping his hips into you, his tip hitting your sweet spot so fucking good it brought tears to your eyes.

“s-so good, yunnie,” you slurred, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“you feel so good, baby. can i cum in you?” he asked and your pussy fluttered around his dick. “you like that? want me to cum in this pussy?”

“please,” you choked out, eyes teary. “please cum in me. i missed you.”

yunho’s fist couldn’t compare to the way your pussy felt. you were wrapped so tight around him, your moans and whimpers descending onto his ears, and the way your pretty face was screwed up in pleasure. he still didn’t want to cum just yet, it was too early. so he slowed the fast pace of his thrusts which made you let out a groan of frustration.

“stop holding back, yunnie,” you complained, purposefully clenching around him. yunho hissed, his hands dropping down to hold your hips.

“i don’t wanna cum yet.”

you whined again, “please. i wanna feel it. i wanna feel you.”

just the utterance of that sentence made yunho let go of his restraints and pound into you with no remorse. you screamed his name, your pussy squeezing him so tight he almost couldn’t move inside of you. you were getting close too. yunho didn’t stop his movements until both of you were cumming together with pants and breathy moans.

“i missed you so bad,” you told him. you laid your head on his wet chest while you caught your breath.

“i missed you too, baby.”

finally out of the shower, yunho was all over you again. this time it wasn’t sexual though. he just wanted to touch you and be near you but simultaneously that’s all you wanted too. so you let him touch you and kiss you and rub you while you lie in bed with him. it felt good to be there with him. in his bed, with sheets that smelled just like him. you didn’t think you’d be able to take it when you had to catch your flight home at the end of the summer but you refused to let those thoughts in and ruin the moment.

“surely our itinerary this entire summer isn’t just having sex and laying in bed,” you teased your boyfriend, climbing on top of his body and straddling it.

he put his hands on your hips, because he just had to be touching you in some way, “of course not. i wanna show you around and take you to all my favorite places and the guys said they wanted to see you again. i promise i have a lot planned. i just figured your first day here you would want to relax.”

“you know me so well because if you would’ve tried to take me out today after that long ass flight i would’ve killed you,” you told him, pinching his cheeks between your thumb and index finger.

yunho just chuckled and squeezed your hips in his soft hands before replying, “like you said, i know you so well.”

when tomorrow came, yunho took you out to show you around the city. he showed you all of his favorite spots, bought you korean street food, and took as many pictures of you as he could. he knew you weren’t leaving any time soon but he still wanted to cherish every memory he made with you. he loved you. in fact, you’re the only girl he’s ever loved deeply. to think he met you only such a short time ago.

“you know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me?” yunho told you as you walked hand in hand down the busy streets of seoul.

“really?” you asked him

“really,” he confirmed.

“you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you told him with a smile.

it was dark when you finally made it back to yunho’s apartment. you kicked your shoes off of your tired feet the moment he opened the door and plopped down dramatically on the couch. yunho chuckled but followed suit.

“i had so much fun today, yunnie.”

“good. it’s all for you,” he punctuated his sentence by giving you a soft kiss on the lips.

“when you come visit me in the states i’ll show you around my city too,” you told him.

“can’t wait.”

it’s been a week now since you’ve been in korea. you’ve seen his friends who were more than happy to see you, he showed you around seoul some more, and you’ve been having so much sex you were surprised you could still feel your legs. it was like cancún all over again, it felt different this time though. this time it felt… permanent. this time you knew you’d see him again. you found comfort in that.

“what’s on your mind, sweetheart?” yunho asked you, pulling you from the thoughts swirling in your head.

“you,” you replied smoothly without missing a beat. the tips of yunho’s ears turned red and a light blush dusted his cheeks. you knew how to get him flustered just like he did you.

“you think about me a lot?” yunho asked you, trying to play off the effect you had on him.

“mhm,” you confirmed with a nod.

“when do you think about me?” yunho asked you

“when i wake up in the morning, before i go to sleep, in the shower, literally all the time.”

“and when else do you think about me?” yunho questioned that familiar glint in his eyes. the glint that meant he was getting ready to fuck you until you couldn’t think straight anymore.

“when i’m horny. when i’m fucking myself with that pink dildo you like so much. i think about you when i cum all over it and how much i wish it was your dick i was cumming on instead,” your voice was low and sultry like how it was every time you were trying to seduce him. it worked like a charm every time. “do you think about me?”

“yeah,” he began. “i think about you when i’m brushing my teeth, when i’m eating. i even dream about you,” he finished. “i think about you when i’m fucking my hand and how much i wish it was your pussy.”

“do you say my name when you cum?” you asked him

“of course i do. do you say mine?”

“duh!” you replied.

it was silent but only for a few seconds before yunho broke it, “come here.” he beckoned you closer to him with his hand. you complied with his wishes coming closer to him.

“what?” you asked him softly, crawling into his lap. you knew what. you could feel how hard he was by just sitting there. you knew what he wanted.

he didn’t answer, he only started to rub his hands up your sides and on your back just how you liked. he took it a step further when his hands trailed down to roughly grip your ass. you jolted forward in surprise and yunho chuckled.

“was that too rough for you, princess? i’m sorry,” his apology was insincere. he knew exactly what the fuck he was doing because this time he landed a smack on it. you jolted again, a soft moan leaving your lips. he used his hand to soothe the light sting cooing apologies in your ear. “i’m sorry baby. it’s just so fat i can’t help myself.”

“stop teasing me. i wanna fuck,” you complained, nuzzling your head in the crook of his neck. yunho went back to caressing your body gently like he was before.

“do something for me first,” yunho said.

you lifted your head up, “anything.”

he lifted you off of him with ease and sat you on the bed, “lay on your stomach and face me.” so you did. you laid on your belly with your head hanging off the bed to face him, “you’re such a good girl.” yunho praised you.

he pulled his sweats and briefs down, his dick flopping out almost hitting you in the face. yunho grabbed himself and ran the pretty pink tip over your lips.

“open,” he told you.

you slowly unhinged your jaw taking his dick into your mouth. he grunted, bucking his hips up causing you to choke around him. in retaliation you slapped his thigh but that only made him fuck into your mouth even more. the sounds that came from you were music to yunho’s ears. he looked down to see how messy your face had become, for some reason it made his heart flutter. he pulled out of your mouth for a moment to give you a breather.

“so messy,” yunho teased. he took his thumb to gently wipe around your mouth and then he pushed it past your lips for you to suck on. “that’s a good fucking girl. so good with your mouth.”

you released his thumb with a popping sound before opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. yunho took the invitation, slapping his dick on your tongue then diving right back into your mouth. his thrusts were shallow at first. they quickly sped up until you were choking around him again. he held your head still while he used your throat to get off.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hissed. he grabbed your hair in his hand and pulled you off. “i don’t wanna cum yet. i wanna cum inside you.”

you’d created a monster letting yunho hit it raw your last night in mexico together. now all he wanted to do was cum inside of you whenever he had the chance. you liked it just as much, though. you loved the way he flooded your insides and you loved the way he fucked his load into you even more. if it weren’t for the birth control you were on you would’ve been pregnant by now.

yunho pulled you up by your arm and proceeded to take your lips in a bruising kiss. it was nothing but a mess of tongues, spit, and teeth. he didn’t stop kissing you; not even when he laid you down on the bed. he laid on top of you, lips still on yours. soon his kisses trailed down to your neck. there were already hickeys there from earlier this week, yunho added more. your moans were so sweet. so pretty. he grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled the piece of clothing over your head. his kisses trailed down to your breasts. he took his time giving each one attention. he kissed down your body until he made it to the band of your underwear.

“lift up, baby,” he instructed you. you did as told, lifting your hips up off the bed. he slid your underwear down your legs, and threw them somewhere in the room that was none of your concern right now. not when he was between your legs about to eat your pussy until you were shaking. “you’re nice and wet for me.”

you couldn’t respond because he’d already dove into your dripping pussy. you gasped at the way his tongue was already slurping up everything that had dribbled out of you. your hand flew to fist his hair while he ate you out.

“fuck, yunho!”

his lips closed around your clit to suck on it. you screamed out as you writhed against his face covering it in all of your juices. yunho looked up at you while his mouth was busy making you cum. you looked so hot like this, he thought. your eyes were closed and you were squeezing your breasts in your hands. he took it a step further. he pushed his tongue in your tight hole making you gasp.

you arched your back off the bed, “you are so fucking—.” your words were cut short when you felt yunho’s thumb push into your asshole. “—nasty! fuck keep doing that, yunnie please!”

with his thumb still in your ass and his tongue still busy on your pussy you could feel how close you were to cumming.

“yunho, please please please!” you chanted as your eyes crossed and your body seized up. your orgasm hit you with full force. you squirmed, gasped, and tried to close your legs around your boyfriend’s head but he just kept going until your climax fizzled out.

he came from between your legs, face shiny with your juices, “you taste so good. wanna taste?” you nodded eagerly, grabbing him by his chain and pulling him in for another filthy kiss. you could taste yourself all over his lips, all over his tongue, and you needed more of him.

your body was still shaking from your orgasm. yunho chuckled, “what’s funny?” you asked

“you’re shaking. was it that good, baby?” he laughed before peppering kisses all over your face.

“it was amazing, yunnie. i want more.”

yunho was on top of you again in seconds. he teased you first by running his tip through your folds and tapping it on your clit. he pushed into you in one swift motion, bottoming out. his chain with your initial was dangling in your face while your anklet with his initial was dangling by his ear. it was as erotic as it was romantic. he started slow at first because he knew you were probably still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“faster,” you told him.

he sped up his pace, watching as your breasts bounced with every stroke. he’d never get tired of this view no matter how many times he found himself buried inside of you. you cried out to him, reaching to grab his hand in yours while he fucked you. you squeezed it when you felt just how fucking deep he was in your guts. it almost felt like he was touching your cervix.

“you’re so deep, yunho,” you whimpered.

yunho put his free hand on your tummy to feel the way his dick was thrusting in and out of you, “can you feel me right here, baby girl?” he pressed down on your tummy. you gasped, squeezing his other hand again.

“feels so fucking good.”

“how about i give you a baby so you can’t leave me and go back home?” yunho asked. you moaned so loud at his words to yunho’s delight and you squeezed his hand and dick. “yeah? you want that? fuck a kid into so you have to stay?”

“yes, yes please yunho. wanna have your baby,” you rambled not even completely sure of what you were saying because of how good he was making you feel. yunho grunted at the feeling of you squeezing around him and the words that were coming from your pretty lips.

“that’s a good girl. tell me you want me to knock you up,” yunho said. his hips never stopped pounding. he leaned down to really press you into the mattress and fuck you even deeper into it. his face was buried in the crook of your neck, placing kisses on the already blemished flesh. “say it.”

“w-want you to knock me up. wanna make you a—fuck— a daddy!” you cried out in pleasure. “fuck i think i’m cumming!” your eyes rolled back and you dug your heels into his spine as you creamed all over his dick.

“good fucking girl,” yunho praised you. “wanna be a mommy?”

“please,” you whimpered beneath him. yunho kept fucking into you until he deposited his own cum deep into your womb. you were out of breath when he pulled out of you and rolled over next to you.

“you okay? was that too much?”

“it was perfect, yunnie. i loved every second.”

…

it was nearing the end of july which meant soon your summer with your boyfriend would be over. you didn’t want it to end, you didn’t want to go back home and have to deal with only seeing him through facetime. you loved sharing a bed and an apartment with him. you thought seriously about just moving in with him no matter how big of a change it was going to be. you just wanted to be with him, so you proposed the idea to him on your last night there.

“what if i moved here and lived with you?” you asked, pushing his bangs out of his eyes.

“woah,” he began. he took one of his large hands and placed it on your tummy. “did i get you pregnant?” he finished, a proud smile on his face.

you shook your head, “not yet, baby,” yunho pouted. you laughed, grabbing his face in your hands. “we can have a baby later. i wanna move here because i hate being away from you. it sucks not being able to kiss you and hug you whenever i want.”

“babe moving to another country is a huge step. i can’t let you do that.”

you sucked your teeth and dropped your hands from his face to cross your arms over your chest, “but i want to! i wanna be here with you, yunho. i love waking up next to you every morning. i love being able to be with you whenever i want. i love you.”

“you can’t move here because…” he trailed making you bounce in anticipation. “i already bought an apartment in the states for us to live together,” yunho informed you and you felt like you stopped breathing.

your jaw dropped, “you what?”

“i’ve been planning this for a while, baby. like before you even came to visit. i was telling my mom how much i missed you and she told me to just go for it. so i went for it.”

“yunho,” your voice cracked before tears started to spill down your cheeks.

“don’t cry, honey,” he said, wiping your tears with his thumbs. “i love you too and i don’t want to be anywhere where you aren’t.”

more tears started coming until you were sobbing. nobody ever loved you this much. it was overwhelming. it was too fucking much. yunho cooed at you, wiping every tear away.

“calm down, sweetheart,” yunho cooed. he pulled you into his chest until you stopped crying.

“i’m sorry it’s just a lot take in.”

“it’s okay baby. don’t apologize,” he assured you. he kissed the crown of your head, “so are you ready to move in with me?”

you nodded at him, wiping the last remnants of your tears away, “i am.”

…

“do y’all think we’re moving too fast?” you asked your homegirls as they helped you pack up what was left of your old apartment.

“it’s too damn late to be asking that now. like this damn apartment not empty,” one of them replied, packing the last of your things in a box.

your other friend shoved her, “i think you’re doing just fine, mama. i think it’s romantic, ya know? i mean what nigga you know that’s gonna move all the way across the world for you?”

“not a lot.”

“exactly! everything is gonna be fine and even if it’s not; you live and you learn. but i think you’re gonna be fine!” she encouraged you. “and all you gotta do is keep fucking him because obviously whatever you got between them legs has that nigga at your feet.”

you shoved her this time, “shut up!”

“it’s true! keep putting it on him like that and in a few months you’re gonna be pregnant or engaged. or both.”

the thought of marrying yunho and having his kids had warmth blossoming in your chest. you could see it: yunho waiting on you hand and foot while you carried his baby and a pretty diamond ring on your finger. it was insane to even think about this so early in your relationship, you knew that. that didn’t stop the daydreaming though.

“almost ready, baby?” yunho asked, coming into your now empty bedroom.

“yeah, this is the last box,” you told him as you taped it closed. he grabbed the box from your hands, “i don’t know how someone so little who lives by herself can have so much shit.”

“whatever bro. just take the box to the truck,” you replied and playfully pushed him towards the door.

“he looks at you like you’re the only person in the room, girl,” your friend gushed. “i think y’all are gonna be just fine.”

yunho refused to let you see the new place until you went together. he wouldn’t show you any pictures or even tell you the damn address all he gave you was the key. even when you pulled in front of the building he made you close your eyes and made you promise not to peek. as much as it killed you, you didn’t. he led you inside, up to your floor via the elevator, every once in a while peering back at you to make sure you weren’t looking.

you heard the key turn in the lock and the door creak open, “open your eyes.”

you fluttered your eyes open, blinking a few times to adjust them to the light. when you finally focused you were in awe. it was a beautiful penthouse, with windows that overlooked the city, sleek tiled floors, a fireplace on a wall in the living room.

“jesus christ, yunho! how much did you spend on this place?” you asked him still looking around the huge space that was only just the living room.

“don’t worry about that. do you love it?”

“of course i love it! it’s perfect!”

you went deeper into the house to explore with yunho behind you. the kitchen was just as grand, as were the bedrooms, the bathrooms, and the terrace where you could see the skyline. it made yunho happy to see how in awe you were of the house he bought for you. he knew it was too soon for something this big but he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. he knew that deep down you were the one and he’d be damned if he was gonna let you slip away.

“i love you, yunho.”

“i love you, _____.”