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marsdql · 3 days ago

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Finders, keepers ! — part.2

⌖ p. 𝘮𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢!𝘭𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨 ⤫ 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳﹒wc: 2.3k﹒g . 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, t𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳, smut, angst﹒cw. 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦/𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦, 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨/𝘢𝘣𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦/𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘤 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘴, degrading, smut, (p in v), possession, masturbation﹒tgl: @rii7eis7 @lavxndxrsworld @babygirlskz98 @profoundruinsunknown @lilmarsh-t @shadowyperfectionllama

marea talks; part 2 of finder’s keepers! I’m shadowbanned guys it’s been so bad… so reblogs r very appreciated atm.. okay enjoy | not proofread..

ᡣ𐭩 synopsis ﹒ After this mysterious mafia boss captured you and tied you up, the last thing you expected was to belong to him completely…

— 18+ . AHEAD ────୨ৎ──── MINORS . DNI —

You flinched at the deep groan, your body tensing up as the man’s hand trailed lazily down your back. “Darling, I asked you a question,” Mr. Lee said, his tone calm but laced with authority. His fingers curled into your hair, tugging slightly to force your gaze upward. “I don’t like repeating myself.”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammered, your voice trembling. The tight restraints around your limbs made it impossible to shift away from him.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “That’s not an answer, sweetheart. Try again.”

“Yes,” you whispered. “I slept… okay.”

Mr. Lee hummed, his fingers trailing from your hair to the back of your neck. The touch sent shivers down your spine, a mix of fear and something you couldn’t quite name. “Good. At least you’re honest. Unlike your little ex-boyfriend.”

You flinched at the mention of Damien. The reality of the situation hit you like a brick—he had betrayed you. Sold you off to pay his debts. And now, here you were, tied up and at the mercy of this man.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mr. Lee chuckled, low and deep. “Doing what, doll? Keeping you safe? Treating you better than that pathetic excuse of a man ever did?”

“Safe?” you repeated, incredulous. “You call this safe?”

He tilted his head, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “You think Damien would’ve kept you safe? Do you even realize how far up his neck he was in trouble? If I hadn’t stepped in, you’d be in a much worse situation right now. Trust me, sweetheart, I’m the best option you’ve got.”

You bit your lip, refusing to respond. Part of you wanted to argue, to fight back, but his presence was overwhelming. He radiated power, and you knew better than to push him too far.

“Let’s get something straight,” Mr. Lee continued, his tone shifting to something darker. “I don’t tolerate defiance. You play nice, and I’ll make this as comfortable as possible for you. But if you try anything stupid…” He trailed off, his hand gripping your chin with enough force to make you wince. “Well, I don’t think I need to spell it out for you.”

You nodded quickly, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Good girl,” he murmured, releasing your chin. He stood up, towering over you as he adjusted his suit jacket. “Now, let’s get those ropes off. Can’t have you bruised up, can we? That wouldn’t do.”

Despite his words, his actions were anything but gentle. He untied the ropes with swift, practiced movements, his grip on your arms firm as he pulled you to your feet. Your legs wobbled, and he caught you effortlessly, his hands gripping your waist to steady you.

“Careful,” he said, his voice softening for a moment. “Don’t want you hurting yourself.”

The juxtaposition of his harsh demeanor and the way he held you so carefully left you confused. Was he being kind, or was this just another way to assert control?

“You’ll stay here for now,” he said, guiding you toward a plush chair in the corner of the room. “And don’t even think about trying to leave. You won’t get far.”

“What do you want from me?” you asked, your voice breaking.

Mr. Lee crouched down in front of you, his hands resting on the arms of the chair, caging you in. “What do I want?” he repeated, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I want what’s owed to me. And until Damien figures out how to pay up, you’re mine.”

“But you said—”

“I said I’d let you go when Damien pays me back,” he interrupted, his tone sharp. “But let’s be real, sweetheart. Do you really think he’s coming back for you? He sold you off without a second thought.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

“Hey,” he said, his hand cupping your cheek and forcing you to look at him. “Don’t waste your tears on him. He’s not worth it. You deserve better than that spineless bastard.”

The sincerity in his words took you by surprise. But before you could process it, his thumb brushed away a stray tear, his touch lingering.

“You’re mine now, doll,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And I take care of what’s mine.”

The weight of his words settled heavily on your chest. Whether you liked it or not, you were at his mercy. And something told you he wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.

You woke up groggily, the dull ache in your head reminding you of the explosion. The room was dim, the soft light of a bedside lamp casting long shadows. You blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the haze, only to realize you were lying on an unfamiliar bed, your hand bandaged and resting on a pillow.

A figure loomed nearby, seated in a chair with one leg crossed over the other. Heeseung. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his tie discarded, and the top buttons of his shirt undone. His dark gaze met yours as he swirled a glass of whiskey in his hand, the amber liquid catching the light.

“Awake, finally,” he said, his voice low and smooth, with a tinge of sarcasm. He leaned back, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, watching your every move.

“What… what happened?” you croaked, your throat dry.

He smirked, tilting his head slightly as he set the glass down on the side table. “You decided to take a nap in the middle of chaos, doll. Lucky for you, I don’t leave my things behind.”

You frowned at his words. “I’m not your—”

“Careful,” he cut you off, his voice dropping an octave. He stood and approached the bed, his tall frame towering over you. “You’re in no position to argue right now.”

Your breath hitched as he leaned down, one hand pressing into the mattress beside your head while the other gently brushed a stray hair from your face. His touch was surprisingly tender, but the proximity made your heart race for reasons you didn’t want to admit.

“You’ve got quite the habit of getting yourself into trouble,” he murmured, his lips curving into a smirk. His fingers trailed down your cheek, lingering for a moment before pulling away. “It’s almost like you’re begging for someone to take care of you.”

Your cheeks flushed at his insinuation, and you turned your head away. “I didn’t ask for your help,” you muttered, your voice barely audible.

He chuckled softly, a dark, velvety sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “No, you didn’t. But that’s the thing about me, sweetheart. I don’t need permission to protect what’s mine.”

His words hung in the air, heavy and suggestive, as he straightened up and began rolling down his sleeves.

“Get some rest,” he ordered, his tone shifting back to its usual coldness. But as he turned to leave, he paused in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the dim light from the hallway.

“And don’t think about running,” he added, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. “Not unless you want me to chase you.”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone in the oppressive silence. You sank back into the pillows, your heart pounding as you replayed his words in your mind. As much as you hated to admit it, there was something about Heeseung—his presence, his intensity—that you couldn’t ignore.

And that terrified you.

You lay there in the dim light, the weight of Heeseung’s words still hanging in the air like smoke. His presence lingered in your thoughts, even though the door had closed behind him. You wanted to shake off the feeling, but the tension he left behind was palpable. He wasn’t like anyone you had ever encountered. He was dark, commanding, and there was something in his eyes that made you feel like you had no choice but to listen to him.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours before you heard footsteps approaching again. The door creaked open, and Heeseung stepped back into the room, his presence like a storm rolling in. His expression was more severe this time, and the usual cocky smirk was replaced with a look that was almost unreadable.

You instinctively tensed, but Heeseung’s eyes scanned you coldly, taking in every detail of your posture, your hands still resting on the bed. His eyes narrowed as they settled on the bandages wrapped around your hand.

“Still acting like a victim, huh?” he remarked, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “You’re not a child. Stop playing helpless.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. You knew you weren’t helpless, but the way he said it made something inside you churn. Heeseung didn’t give you a chance to respond. He moved toward you quickly, his footsteps heavy on the floor, and before you could even blink, he was standing at your bedside.

His gaze was colder than before, his presence suffocating as he loomed over you. “I’ve told you before, don’t make me repeat myself,” he said, his voice low and harsh. “You’re under my care now. And I don’t take kindly to defiance.”

You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. His words hung in the air like a chain around your neck. Heeseung’s hand shot out and gripped your wrist, his fingers tight enough to make you wince. The pain from your hand felt amplified under his touch, but you couldn’t pull away.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he demanded, his voice like gravel scraping against your skin.

You lifted your eyes, meeting his gaze, but something in you recoiled at the intensity. There was no softness in his expression now, only a dark resolve.

“I don’t like being ignored,” he continued, his grip tightening even more, making you gasp in discomfort. “And I don’t like being questioned. If you think you can get away from me, think again. There’s nowhere you can hide.”

The words stung. You had no room to breathe, no space to think. Everything he said made it feel like you were cornered, trapped. But there was something else too—a strange, terrifying pull toward him that you couldn’t deny. Despite everything, part of you couldn’t stop yourself from being drawn in by him.

Heeseung’s face was mere inches from yours now, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re mine now, and I don’t tolerate disobedience. You’ll learn that quickly enough.”

The words sent a chill down your spine, but before you could respond, he let go of your wrist with a harsh push, causing you to stumble back slightly. His eyes were still locked on you, colder than before, as if daring you to defy him again.

“Hey, sit up.” He demanded. You did as you were told. “Strip for me.” And to both you and his surprise—that is exactly what you did.

With a gentle smile and a rising and falling chest to hold back a sigh, he says, "Fuck... Thats it, baby.“ Every time he finds himself with a fist around his cock, you play his name over and over again like a broken record, letting out each syllable in a syrupy sweet whiny manner. even going so far as to press his face against one of his pillowcases, which still had your shampoo residue.

Heeseung uses his weight on the pits of your knees to keep your ass angled up as he pulls himself out to just the tip. He throbs against your opening while his red-swollen cock tip adorns your abused hole. "You desire it."

‘mhh..L-. Heesseung...’

He grunts as he pushes back, taking his time to feel you suck around every inch of his thick size. "So cute," he coos. allowing you to feel every inch of him as he shapes your hole. He jumps inside you, pushing balls deep, and you let out a loud, moaning gasp. “I own you. I have you all to myself.“

In spite of how dry and scratchy it feels, thrusting picks up speed again, gripping groans out of your throat. Heeseung tries to force you to watch by pushing your body in half with her hands on your legs. spread wide enough for you to see exactly where your pussy tugs on his shaft. You pulsate and clench around him while milking him to cum.

“you want me to stuff this lovely pussy? hmm?” He presses his hips against your ass to emphasize. You can only nod your head stupidly while your cock dips in and out of you angrily.

"H-hee…Heeseung—Heeseung.”

You throw your head back and let out a final cry as the broken prayer of his name falls from your lips. His pussy squeezed so tightly that he had to pause for a moment to catch his breath. The fresh smell of body wash fills your head with everything Heeseung, and the sweat between your bodies is secreting quickly.

He says roughly, almost to the point of exhaustion, "that’s my good girl." As he gets closer, you are further confined to the bed and have no option but to accept it. "There you go fuck yourself on my cock pretty girl, forget about your stupid boyfriend—you have—fuck, you have me”

His thrusts become unpredictable, causing your hypersensitivity to go into overdrive and turn into a meandering mess. He is pushed over the edge by the sight of your pussy taking it despite the pain and you mouthing his name. Shooting hot white strings to the final drop, lips twitching, coming to a still point. shallowly fucking the final few spurts until you writhe and scream as you toss your head back and forth.

He keeps you held open by letting your legs drop. The gush of cum that will not leave you is captivating. Holding on to the base of his length, your tiny cunt is unable to handle it and tries to push it back in.

You nod off a few seconds later; perhaps this mafia is not so horrible after all.

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slimybeth69 · 2 days ago

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"i'll be here."

rating: explicit- for drinking and joel's dirty thoughts. This is pure fluff NO SMUT and it's probably kinda corny but I DON'T CARE.

summary: Joel wants to make sure your New Years Eve isn't lonely.

tags: jackson!joel, Joel's POV, no use of y/n, no physical description (just an outfit) fluff, so much fluff, pining, age gap, him being handsome and perfect, mentions of food, drinking, being intoxicated so maybe dub-con (but not really)

w/c: ~3.6k

a/n: the holiday was hard as hell this year and it really didn't feel like christmas at all, so i wrote this for myself because i was sad. i hope any of you all that needed Joel to come and sing you songs and play gui-tar find some comfort in this.

thanks for @creepycorbeaux for reading this over. thanks to @thelastofgala for those beautiful gifs and thanks to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

Joel wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing walking to your house with a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and his guitar in the other, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what you had said last night on patrol.

“Whaddya end up doin’ f’Christmas?”

The face you make when you look over at him almost makes Joel smirk for a split second. The way your nose scrunches and the corners of your mouth turn down slightly. Like you’re confused and upset with him ,and all he did was ask you a simple question.

Then you respond, “Whachya mean?”

Joel doesn’t know how to answer that because… what do you mean? Your eyes are still squinted— like there is some sort of distrust in your soul. Like Joel is playing a joke on you right now.

“Uh, well… Ellie and I went to Tommy and Maria’s...” Joel is uncomfortable suddenly; he forgets that not everyone is as lucky as he is to have family here in Jackson. He doesn’t know you nearly well enough, so now he feels like an ass. He shouldn’t be asking you anything like that.

Or anything at all not pertaining to patrol.

You don’t say anything for a while, you just hold onto the strap of your rifle over your shoulder, and then adjust your grasp on the reins with your other hand. “I just stayed home,” you answer him quietly, almost like you don’t really want him to hear you. “Made myself a nice dinner, read a book and went to bed.”

That ‘put your foot in your mouth’ feeling creeps into Joel’s stomach and he wants to ask if you’d like to give him a nice rocket to his left jaw. He doesn’t stay quiet for too long, he doesn’t want you sitting in this awkward smog he’s created. “That doesn’t sound t’bad, honestly. Whaddya make?”

Joel watches you out of the corner of his eye as you once again adjust the reins in your hand, waiting for you to either respond to his question or tell him to shut the fuck up.

He wishes you would tell him to screw off because he never tries to make small talk, and this is why! He always regrets it!

“Just a venison roast with veggies from the greenhouse.” You finally tell him with a little more life in your voice this time, like you were actually proud of what you cooked yourself. “What did you and Ellie do at Tommy and Maria’s?”

“Had a few drinks, ate some food. Nothin’ crazy.”

Joel didn’t have the heart to tell you that Tommy and him spent most of the day drinking and reminiscing, laughing about being young, stupid kids. Or that Ellie and Maria baked all day, listening to Christmas music someone had found a while ago. He didn’t wanna subject you to all that, knowing now you were home alone.

Since that night on patrol, Joel can’t get the image of you sitting at home on a holiday all by yourself.

Probably being sad.

There isn’t any particular reason why he feels so compelled to come knock on your door, there are plenty of other lonely souls that spend every holiday with no one else around.

There was just a pull. Something inside of him that said go go go.

Go to her.

He doesn’t really even know what he’s going to say to you if you decide to open the door for him. Hell, he’s not sure you’re even going to let him in! You’ve only ever gone on two patrols together. Y’all never really talk outside of that, but that’s mostly because he doesn’t see you around.

Not like he’s looking for you, or anything.

When he knocks, it’s like his heart might hammer right out of his chest. Why is he so nervous? He’s just here to offer you a couple drinks so you don’t have to ring in the new year all alone.

Ellie was with Dina and the rest of her friends, Tommy and Maria wanted to call it an early night because of the baby, and so Joel had two options: the bar, or sitting at home alone.

It’s not that Joel didn’t like being alone. He had been alone since Tess, and that was still something he didn’t like to think about too much.

Too much loss for not enough of — whatever they had been. Losing her had almost been the final nail in the coffin, and if it hadn’t been for Ellie -

Don’t think about it.

Now Joel finds himself on your front porch, holding the screen door open with his large frame, and knocking lightly with the ass end of the bottle of whiskey.

From inside he can hear you moving around. His breath hitches in his throat when you finally open up for him. Joel watches your eyes scan him very quickly, taking in the picture in front of you. Your eyes go wide for a second like you don’t understand why he’s here.

Joel Miller on your front porch with a bottle of whiskey and his guitar.

“Whaddya doin’ here?”

Joel holds the bottle up for you to inspect closer as you wrap your arms around yourself like you’re trying to hide from him.

Joel’s never seen you without your winter jacket, hat and gloves. Right now in your house, you have on a blue sweater, a pair of tight elastic tights that Joel wishes he could see you in more often, and the warmest looking socks he has ever seen.

His eyes scan the length of your body again involuntarily. His gaze lingers on your pants once again– so tight and they hug your curves (that Joel didn’t even know you had) in all the right ways.

“Well, I reckon I came over here hopin’ you had cooked another roast, since it sounded so damn good when you told me ‘bout it on patrol–”

Joel continues his bullshit rambles about why he came over here as you start to smirk, and take a step back so the door can swing open a little wider and he can make his way in.

“The guitar?” You ask as Joel toes off his boots so he doesn’t track snow through your house. He hands you the bottle of whiskey, shifting the guitar between his hands as he takes off his jacket.

“Figur’d if you wanted to share any of the food you made– I could share the whiskey… maybe play a lil gui-tar for ya.”

The last time he played the guitar for anyone besides Ellie– Sarah was still alive.

Who is this man?

There was just something about the way you said ‘I just stayed home’. Joel was thinkin’ maybe you didn’t read a book and go to bed.

Maybe you cried a little, missing whatever you remember from home.

Joel knows all about that, all about the sleepless nights when you just can’t turn your brain off. You can’t stop thinking about the people that are no more, about how different things are now and how you’d give anything for them to go back to the way they used to be.

Joel has Ellie and Tommy. Who do you have?

“You’re in luck because I did cook tonight,” you’re smiling at him and he thinks this is the first time he’s ever seen you smile, too.

So many firsts for Joel, he feels like a teenager as you lead him further into your house - which is clean and smells phenomenally good - and into the kitchen.

Joel hadn’t expected you to actually offer him food, he didn’t know if you cooked dinners like that for yourself all the time, or only on special occasions.

You take the guitar from him and pull out a chair at your kitchen table. For a moment he feels like his brain malfunctions and he’s not sure how to react.

“You can sit,” You’re already in your living room. “I’m just gonna…” Then you trail off.

When Joel peers around the corner to check on you, you’re very carefully leaning the guitar against the wall, holding your hands out to catch it in case it leans too far one way or the other.

Joel feels heat creeping up his chest and neck as he watches you, slightly bent at the waist. The tightness of your pants—

Nope.

Once you’re satisfied that the guitar won’t fall, you turn around and smile at him, even though he’s just standing there watching you like an idiot– blushing!

Blushing?

Part of him thinks this was the worst idea he ever had. How could you be doing this to him and you’ve done absolutely nothing?

He should go home.

“Sit!” You urge him to take a seat at the table while you basically prance into the kitchen to start serving him a plate. Everything is still sitting on the stove in the pots you cooked in.

You explain that you already ate because you weren’t expecting company.

Joel almost tells you not to worry about the food, but then what would he do? Play guitar for three hours? Getting drunk and talking all night seems like a terrible idea.

What the fuck was he thinking? This was the dumbest thing he’s ever done, it really was.

He shuts his mouth though when you set down a plate of steaming food in front of him.

“Dig in! I have more than enough if you want a second plate.”

The way you talk so casually, like you’ve known Joel your whole life while you walk back into the kitchen makes him jealous.

How are you so nice? Sweet?

You haven’t even been here for four months and this is the first time either of you have said more than ten words to each other that didn’t have to do with patrol.

It’s the way your body moves when you walk without all your winter gear on. You sway… almost like you’re floating.

Knock it off, old man. She’s half your age.

Joel has to squeeze his eyes shut for two seconds until he hears your feet padding back to the table. When he opens them, you’re pushing one of the glasses in his direction.

“You brought the booze, so you have to pour it.”

The smile on your face makes Joel feel a mix of pride and guilt.

What are you expecting of him? He can’t give you more than just tonight. He knows that, he hopes you know that too.

Joel opens the bottle and pours each of you a decent, sippable glass.He should have poured himself less.

Probably should have poured you less.

The food tastes better than Joel’s had in years. He even finds himself asking for seconds, something he rarely does.

You’re making small talk as he eats, asking about his travels and how long he’s been in Jackson. If he likes it here, how old is his daughter.

Joel decides not to tell you that Ellie isn’t really his daughter, because biologically she isn’t, but it hasn’t felt that way in a long time.

As he eats, and you chat, Joel starts to relax a little. Your presence is calming, and he finds himself enjoying your company more than he thought he would. He pours both of you another drink, his regrets of pouring less last time completely forgotten.

The food is gone and you’ve cleared his plate. But the two of you are still sitting at the kitchen table. He’s not sure if it’s the fact that this is another first— seeing you up close like this. In the light of your kitchen Joel can really take in your features; your cheeks when you smile, and the way your eyes light up when you laugh at some dumb joke he tells.

You ask him about his life before the outbreak, and Joel hesitates before giving a very brief summary of his past. He doesn’t like talking about it all, and he avoids bringing Sarah up completely.

Not tonight. Probably not ever.

You listen attentively and ask Joel questions that show you’re actually interested in what he’s saying.

Joel continues to pour the two of your drinks each time your glasses are empty and you never tell him to stop. You suggest moving to the living room where it’s more comfortable, and Joel agrees without hesitation.

Go home. This is going to end badly.

There is a fire going in your fireplace, and Joel can’t sit down until he puts another log or two on, and he has to move some things around to get it going again.

“I can do it myself,” you say from directly behind him, sounding a little offended.

Joel doesn't even look at you when he responds, "I know you can. Just helpin'."

When he finally turns around, you quickly look away. Joel can’t help but smirk and feel that familiar in his lower belly.

Had you been staring at him?

Joel watches as you sink down into the brown leather couch, curling up with your feet underneath you. He settles beside you with just enough distance to be polite.

“What songs do ya’ know?” Your voice is soft and your words are slightly slurred. The alcohol has definitely started to affect you, but Joel doesn’t think you’re that drunk yet.

Joel looks at the clock on your wall and it reads 10:45 PM. He can do this. An hour and fifteen minutes left, then Joel can escape.

Not that he wants to. He has to or something bad is going to happen. Something he regrets.

Something you might regret.

But when you ask him about songs, he can’t help but smile. The alcohol is going down too easily, way too easy for both of you.

Joel clears his throat. "Whaddya wanna hear?"

You shrug, your cute blue sweater sliding off one shoulder. Joel has to fight himself to keep his eyes on your face as you mindlessly tug the sweater up. It’s like you didn’t even realize it happened. You kept your eyes on him the entire time.

"Somethin' that makes you happy."

The fact that you’re moving your feet to tuck your toes underneath Joel’s right thigh is sending electric shocks to his brain. He leans and grabs the guitar off the wall– careful to not move too much so he can keep the contact between the two of you.

Shit. What is he getting himself into?

Joel holds the guitar, fingers tracing the old wooden curves. It's been a while since he's played at all. The strings feel ice cold under his calloused hands.

Joel strum a couple cords, “Know a few songs,” he says, clearing his throat. “Might be a lil rusty though,” he smirks at you and gives you a sideways glance.

You smile from behind your whiskey glass and Joel feels something shift inside him. Something he hasn't felt in a long time.

Something dangerous.

Your eyes are glittering in the firelight— different than they had looked in the artificial light of your kitchen. It casts a warm glow across your face, softening the edges that Joel has only ever seen sharp and alert on patrol.

He clears his throat once again and continues to move his fingers along the frets. The first few notes come out slightly off-key, but Joel quickly finds his rhythm. He starts with a Garth Brooks song.

Joel knows he’s not the best at the guitar and he doesn’t play it nearly as often now that Ellie is so busy with her own life.

You don’t seem to mind, and sometimes Joel misses a chord or messes up completely because he can’t stop glancing over to watch you watching him.

He starts to sing, his voice low and gravelly. It's not a perfect voice - never was - but there's something raw and honest in the way the words tumble out.

… Blame it all on my roots, I showed up in boots And ruined your black tie affair The last one to know, the last one to show I was the last one you thought you'd see there

You shift slightly, your toes still tucked under his thigh, and Joel catches you watching his hands. Even as he continues to sing. You never take your eyes off of him. Not once.

… 'Cause I've got friends in low places Where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away And I'll be OK Yeah, I'm not big on social graces Think I'll slip on down to the oasis Oh, I've got friends in low places

Joel's voice falters for a moment when he notices the concentration of your gaze. His fingers momentarily stagger on the guitar strings, creating a clashing note that lingers in the air for a moment before he continues.

You don't seem to notice, or care. Your eyes are locked on his hands, watching how they move across the guitar with a kind of reverence that makes Joel's breath catch.

Joel finishes the song, letting the last chord ring out softly in the quiet room. For a moment, neither of you moves. You're still watching him, your eyes heavy-lidded from the whiskey, but there's something else there too.

Joel’s eyes fall on the clock on your wall and it’s only 11.

He’s completely fucked.

Joel becomes acutely aware of how close you are.

Your toes are still tucked under his leg, and the warmth of your body seeps through the denim of his jeans. Joel swallows hard, trying to ignore the way his heart is racing.

"Another song?" you ask, your voice soft and slightly husky from the whiskey.

Joel clears his throat. "Sure," he manages, repositioning the guitar.

Joel starts strumming again, this time a slower, more mournful tune. His fingers find the familiar chords of an old country ballad, something he used to play for Sarah when she was real little. Before the weight of being a single dad started to apply pressure.

The memories threaten to overtake him, but he forces them down, focusing instead on the way the light flickers across your face. He can feel the heat of your body against his leg, the whiskey making everything feel soft and blurry around the edges. His voice is lower now, almost a whisper, like he's singing just for you.

Joel sings a couple more songs, a few at your request.

"That was really good," you say softly, your eyes meeting his. There's something in your gaze that makes Joel shiver - it’s a weakness, a longing that mirrors something deep inside himself.

When he looks at the clock again it’s 12:30.

“We completely missed new years,” Joel points to the clock and chuckles. He had completely forgotten that’s why he came over here originally. Once the music started, everything else kind of faded away.

It was just the two of you while the rest of Jackson, and possibly the rest of the world stopped existing in that short time.

“I was havin’ a good time,” you’re still smiling at him and now he can see how glassy they are from the whiskey.

“Y’look like y’were havin’ a good time, darlin’.” Joel smiles and starts to stand up from the couch. It’s not until he’s standing directly in front of you realize what’s happening, Joel watches your eyes shift and change.

Are you panicking?

“Are… were–” you cut yourself off and shake your head, waving a hand at Joel dismissively. “Nevermind. Thank you for coming over.” When you turn to look at him, your eyes are rimmed with a glossy sheen. The whites of your eyes had turned a hazy shade of red.

“S’wrong?”

You shrug your shoulders, your sweater falling off your shoulder again. You don’t notice and twirl your whiskey glass in your hand slowly. “Nothin’. I had a good time… just sad you gotta go.”

Joel knows he shouldn’t, but he gently replaces your sweater, his fingers lingering on the warm skin of your collarbone for a moment before he pulls away. “I’m all outta songs, sweetheart.”

“You don’t wanna stay?”

Joel swallows hard and then cuts you off, “For what?” Joel whispers it and you snap your head up to look at him, almost as astonished as he is. Joel knows that the liquor and the way you had been looking at him all night is a recipe for disaster.

Make me leave, please. Kick me out. Don’t ask me to stay again because I won’t be able to say no.

You finish the last of your whiskey before setting your glass down on the coffee table in front of your couch.

“You know what.”

“I do… but we’ve been drinkin’... ‘n I don’t want ya’ regretti–”

“What is there to regret?” you whisper. Your hand snakes into his and Joel doesn’t pull his away or nothing. “You gotta know more songs.”

Joel sits down beside you again, sighing loudly like this is a giant inconvenience to him, but a part of him knows that this isn’t going to end–

Not at all.

Once he takes you upstairs, it’s over for the both of you. It’s like he can taste it in the air.

“One more,” Joel nods his head at you. “Then I’m leavin’.”

He and you both know that’s not true.

His fingers find their holds on the neck of the guitar and he looks over at you before he strums the first note.

You shy away from him, tucking your toes back under his thigh. Joel lifts his leg slightly so you can slip them deeper under his leg.

There's no stronger wind than the one that blows Down a lonesome railroad line No prettier sight than looking back On a town you left behind There is nothin' that's as real As your face that's on my mind

Joel changes the lyrics just a little, and he doesn’t know if you notice, or even if you know this song. He's not ready to sing about love, not at all.

He confidently sings you the next part though.

Close your eyes I'll be here in the morning Close your eyes I'll be here for a while

hopefully y'all had a better time than I did.

love you all so so much

#jackson!joel #joel miller one shot #joel miller fluff #joel plays the guitar #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #ppcu fandom #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu fics #pedro pascal character #joel tlou

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1425fivefive · 3 days ago

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oscar and max fuck and are both wearing cock cages, while mark fujos out. i feel like i need to personally apologize to god after writing this (inspired by this ask) (for the kink prompt asks)

“Touch him,” Mark says.

Both Max and Oscar turn to look at him, wide-eyed, like they can’t figure out which of them Mark’s addressing. Christ, Mark wants to laugh at how useless they are. He would, if it didn’t make his jeans go uncomfortably tight.

“I’m talking to Oscar,” Mark clarifies.

Oscar swallows thickly, but he turns back to Max and brings a hand up to Max’s pec, dragging a thumb over Max’s nipple. They’re really more like tits, Mark thinks. Soft and ripe.

“Suck his nipple,” Mark orders, settling back in his chair.

Oscar whimpers, but he listens, leaning forward and wrapping his lips around the puffy pink bud. Max moans, a raspy, desperate thing, and pushes his chest against Oscar’s mouth, a wet spot already darkening the front of his panties.

Mark tries not to groan at the sight, taking a sip of his whisky instead. He really ought to send Charles a thank you card after this. Let Charles know how much he appreciates Charles for letting them borrow Max. The panties were a nice touch. Simple white cotton with a little bow on the waistband, thin enough that Mark can see the outline of Max’s cage. Mark makes a mental note to get a pair for Oscar.

Oscar’s whining as he sucks Max’s nipple and Max lets out an answering whine, bringing a hand up to play with his other nipple.

Mark shifts in his seat, cock already aching in his jeans. He’d promised Charles he wouldn’t get involved, that he just wanted to watch and tell them what to do to each other. But he can’t stop imagining how well Max would take it, the way his tits would bounce when you fucked him.

Mark distracts himself by saying, “Take his panties off.”

Oscar gives Max’s nipple one last suck before shuffling down the bed, fingers playing with the waistband of Max’s panties.

“Take them off,” Mark says. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Oscar flushes, clearly embarrassed. Mark wonders if Oscar’s humiliated to have Max see him like this, letting his almost fifty-year-old manager order him around. Almost fifty, Mark reminds himself.

But Oscar peels Max’s underwear down his legs, revealing Max’s cock locked away in a tiny silver cage.

Mark groans at the sight. The cage is smaller than Oscar’s and Mark wonders if he could ever get Oscar into something that small. Lock his cock away into a tiny, perfect package. Mark shifts uncomfortably in his chair, taking another sip of his whisky.

Oscar’s staring down at Max’s cock with a slack-jawed expression and Max whimpers under him, hands coming up to clutch at the pillow under his head.

“Give it a kiss,” Mark says. “Show Max how pretty you think he is.”

Oscar glances over at Mark with a desperate expression. But he leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to Max’s cage.

“Oscar, fuck, please,” Max moans. It’s the first thing he’s said since he got undressed and climbed on the bed.

Mark huffs a laugh. “Don’t think you should be begging Oscar.”

Max looks over at Mark, eyes hooded, cheeks pink. Mark thinks he sees a flash of something in Max’s eyes before Max whines, “Please, Mark.”

Mark flushes and coughs, once, making sure his voice comes out steady. He ignores Max’s small, pleased little grin.

“Suck his cock, Oscar,” Mark says, relieved when his voice sounds normal. Oscar and Max moan in unison, but before Oscar can follow Mark’s instructions, Mark adds, “It’s not really a cock, though, is it?”

Max’s head swivels toward Mark, a stunned expression on his face.

“Charles told me it was more of a clit,” Mark says.

Max lets out a low, gut-punched noise, a shiver running through him, his little cock leaking over the bars of its cage.

“Oh my god,” Oscar breathes. “Charles really calls it—”

“Lick his clit, Oscar,” Mark says, pleased when Max lets out another devastated moan.

Oscar listens, finally, running his tongue over Max’s cage. Max whimpers, shaking, hands clutching so tightly at the pillow his knuckles turn white.

“How’s his mouth?” Mark asks, looking at Max.

Max and Oscar both whine, but Max takes a shuddery breath and moans, “Good. So good, Mark, fuck.”

There’s something heady about having Max like this, the reigning world champion, strung out and needy, hanging on Mark’s every word. It reminds Mark a bit of Seb, how it was between them before it all fell apart.

Mark can’t think about Seb, though, not now, and he distracts himself by telling Oscar to take off his briefs.

Once Oscar’s naked he stays kneeling on the bed, hands on his thighs, both him and Max looking over at Mark like they’re waiting for their next instruction. Like they have no idea what to do without Mark telling them. Probably for the best they’re locked up, Mark thinks. They wouldn’t have any idea what to do with their cocks even if they had them.

“Jesus,” Mark mutters. “Look at the pair of you.”

Oscar whines, hips thrusting uselessly. It gives Mark an idea.

“Get on top of him,” Mark orders. “Sort of like you’re going to fuck him.”

Oscar whimpers, probably going through whatever self-pity he cycles through whenever Mark reminds him that he can’t fuck anyone, that he’s only good for getting fucked.

But Oscar plants his elbows on either side of Max’s head, his caged cock brushing against Max’s, startling whimpers out of both of them.

Yeah. This’ll work.

“Good,” Mark says, voice strained. “Now try to make yourselves come.”

Oscar and Max make twin, devastated noises, but Max digs a heel into Oscar’s thigh, urging their cocks together. Oscar whines, even as he starts to move, rutting his caged cock against Max’s, letting out awful little whimpers with each thrust.

“Good boys,” Max murmurs, reaching a hand down to squeeze his cock through the denim. “You can kiss.”

Max throws his arms around Oscar’s neck, dragging Oscar in for a messy kiss, mouths and tongues sliding together, sloppy and overeager. Oscar’s panting into his mouth, rutting frantically against Max’s cock.

They look good together, Mark thinks. Sweet and young. Needy and useless, their pale skin flushed a pretty pink, whining and moaning into each other’s mouths. Always desperate for it, chasing a pleasure that’s forever just out of reach.

“Close yet?” Mark asks.

Oscar sobs against Max’s mouth, hips stuttering, and Mark sees how wet their pretty cocks are, slick with pre-come. Oscar’s constantly leaking when he’s in the cage and Mark reckons Max is the same. They’re gorgeous like this, marking each other the only way they can.

Oscar gets a hand under Max’s thigh, dragging Max’s leg around him, and ruts desperately against him, both of them whining and crying out.

“You must need it so bad,” Mark says, voice ragged. “Must be so desperate for it.”

Oscar and Max are still kissing, still panting against each other’s mouth, but Oscar’s thrusts are slowing and he’s making tiny, hurt noises, like he knows it’s useless, like he knows neither of them can come like this.

“Why’re you stopping?” Mark asks, twisting the knife. “You didn’t come yet.”

Oscar whimpers, pulling away from Max to look over at Mark, his eyes huge and wet. “I can’t.”

“Huh,” Mark says, spreading his legs, trying to show Oscar how hard he is, exactly what Oscar’s missing out on. “Too bad.”

Mark can’t help but grin at Oscar’s devastated little sob.

#kink prompts #maxcar #plus mark webber?#i should do fia community service for this #oscmark #oscarmark

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nhaomhi · 3 days ago

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°•* Warmth in the Cold⁀➷. *

pairing: comforting!sunghoon x comforted!yn

synopsis: after getting out of a toxic relationship, sunghoon has always been there for you.

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, implied friends-to-lovers

naomi’s note: this was requested by someone but i cant reply to itt and i have not yet figured out how to tag people so i hope you see this 🥲 this is also so short omg i put this tg so quickly im sorry !! hopefully this lives to ur expectations hbsjshd thank you for this idea i actually love it sm

.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

The wind whipped through your hair as you stepped off the bus, your fingers gripping the strap of your bag like a lifeline. You had no idea where you were going, you only knew you couldn’t go back. The weight of his words still sat heavily on your chest, suffocating and raw.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. With a shaky hand, you pulled it out. Sunghoon’s name flashed on the screen.

You hesitated before answering. “Hey…” Your voice cracked.

“Y/N?” Sunghoon’s tone was immediately alert. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing around at the unfamiliar street. “I just needed to get away.”

There was a pause on the other end before he spoke again, firm and steady. “Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you.”

You didn’t argue. You didn’t have the strength to.

The headlights of Sunghoon’s car cut through the darkness as he pulled up. He stepped out quickly, his brows furrowed with worry as he scanned your face. Without a word, he opened the passenger door and gestured for you to get in.

The ride was silent, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Sunghoon didn’t press you for details, giving you the space you so desperately needed. Instead, he let the soft hum of the radio fill the quiet, the melody soothing in its simplicity.

When you arrived at his apartment, he handed you a pair of his sweats and a hoodie. “Go get comfortable,” he said. “I’ll make us some tea.”

By the time you emerged from the bathroom, the tension in your shoulders slightly eased, Sunghoon was waiting on the couch with two steaming mugs. A plate of cookies—your favorite kind—sat on the table beside him.

“You remembered these?” you asked, a small, surprised smile tugging at your lips.

“Of course,” he said, grinning. “They’ve always been your favorite. Thought they might help.”

The simple gesture brought warmth to your chest. You curled up beside him, pulling the blanket he had draped over the back of the couch around your shoulders.

When you finally started to talk, the words came tumbling out in a rush. “I stayed too long. I thought I could fix it—I thought I could fix him. But all I did was lose myself in the process.”

Your voice cracked, and you stared down at your mug, your fingers trembling. “He made me feel like I wasn’t enough. Like I was hard to love.”

Sunghoon’s jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his mug. But when he spoke, his voice was calm, gentle. “Y/N, listen to me. You were never the problem. You are more than enough—he just couldn’t see it. That’s on him, not you.”

Tears welled in your eyes, spilling over before you could stop them. “Why do I feel so broken, then?”

“You’re not broken,” he said, leaning closer. “You’re hurt, but you’re still here. And that means you’re stronger than you think.”

His words wrapped around you like a shield, offering you the strength you couldn’t find in yourself. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to cry—really cry—without holding back. Sunghoon moved closer, pulling you into his arms. His embrace was steady and warm, his fingers gently brushing through your hair soothingly as he let you fall apart in the safety of his presence.

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of something sweet. You shuffled into the kitchen to find Sunghoon standing at the stove, flipping pancakes.

“You’re making breakfast?” you asked, your voice still hoarse from crying.

He turned to you with a small smile. “You didn’t eat much last night. Thought you might be hungry.”

Something about his quiet thoughtfulness made your chest tighten. You sat at the counter, watching him move around the kitchen with ease.

“Why are you so good to me?” you asked softly.

He paused, setting a plate of pancakes in front of you. “Because you deserve it,” he said simply. “And because I care about you. A lot.”

Your breath hitched. Sunghoon had always been there for you, always steady and unwavering, but hearing him say it aloud was different.

Later that week, Sunghoon surprised you with a movie night. But it wasn’t just any movie night—he’d pulled out all the stops. Fairy lights were strung up around his living room, a makeshift fort made of blankets and pillows dominating the space.

“What is this?” you asked, laughing in surprise.

He shrugged, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I figured you could use some fun. Plus, I know you’ve always loved blanket forts.”

The childlike wonder of it all made your heart swell. As the two of you settled into the fort, a bowl of popcorn between you, Sunghoon handed you a mug of hot chocolate topped with an impressive amount of marshmallows.

“This is ridiculous,” you said, laughing as you took a sip.

“But you’re smiling,” he pointed out, grinning. “So, it’s worth it.”

One snowy afternoon, the two of you decided to go for a walk in the park. The world was blanketed in white, and the air was crisp and quiet.

At some point, Sunghoon bent down and scooped up a handful of snow. You barely had time to react before he tossed it lightly in your direction, hitting your shoulder.

“Did you just—?” you began, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Gotta be faster than that,” he teased, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Before you could think twice, you grabbed a handful of snow and lobbed it at him, laughter bubbling out of you. What started as a playful snowball fight ended with Sunghoon pulling you into a hug to keep you from pelting him with another snowball.

“You’re relentless,” he said, laughing as he looked down at you.

“You started it,” you shot back, grinning.

He didn’t let go right away, and neither did you. For a moment, the world seemed to still, and the warmth in his gaze made your heart skip a beat.

That evening, as you sat on his couch, sharing a blanket and sipping on tea, you turned to him, your voice soft. “Sunghoon?”

“Yeah?” he replied, his eyes locking with yours.

“Thank you,” you said. “For being here. For…everything.”

He smiled gently, his fingers brushing against yours. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad I could be here for you.”

You hesitated, then reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers. “I think I’m starting to see what you’ve been trying to show me. That I can be loved for who I am.”

“You can,” he said, his voice steady. “And you deserve to be.”

As you rested your head on his shoulder, you realized that with Sunghoon by your side, you were finally beginning to heal. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

#enhypen #enhypen au #enha #enhypen scenarios #fluff #sunghoon fic #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #hurt/comfort #enhypen sunghoon

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grimm909 · 2 days ago

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Red Phone - Part 2

I ended up forgetting to include a very important fact here the first time I posted RP! It turns out that the story, in part, is inspired by a South Korean film called "The Call." I highly recommend watching it if you like horror and drama. It's even in the Netflix catalogue! I will also include this information in the first part and then in the third part.

I don't want to take too long here, so thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the comments you made! This always encourages me and makes me happy ☺️💖

Also thank you generously for your support @ryebread0605 😘

As always, english is not my native language. So I apologize if there are any errors.

Happy reading!

WARNINGS: age difference, non-con, kidnapping, horror, mental breakdown, murder, forced pregnancy

The red phone rings at four o'clock in the afternoon.

Sitting at your desk doing your college homework, you put your notebook aside and answer the phone that was on the table.

“Hello, Floyd!” You greet him happily after answering the call.

“Hey, you seem excited.” He notes your good cheer, while he himself continues to use a more relaxed and meek tone. “Did anything good happen?”

“Almost that, yes.” You momentarily remember the night you spent with Ace, but as quickly as that thought came, you immediately pushed it aside. “But also because I’m glad you called me.”

“Hey, I told you, didn't I? Would call to find out more about the future.”

“Of course, I remember.” You respond complacently and with your other free hand pull the notebook back in front of your face. “What do you want to know?”

“Hmmm…” The boy seems thoughtful on the other end of the line, faced with the infinite possibilities. “Who is the most famous player in the NBA today?”

“Do you like basketball?” You ask, pressing the keys.

“Yeep~” Floyd states in a more humorous tone, indicating that you had hit the right spot. “I also play. It’s one of my favorite hobbies.”

“Do you think about playing professionally?”

“I've already thought about that, as I've thought about many other things. But I know it’s a matter of time before it gets boring.”

“Ah, I understand what this is. I consider myself someone who is adept at several things, but can easily get bored of them and move on to something else.” You say, remembering the various things you liked to watch or play, before simply putting them aside after they became repetitive, boring or after finding something much more interesting.

“Eehh~ you read my mind.” He agrees excitedly.

“Another coincidence, then.” You play around and then go on to read information about some of today's most famous players, listening to Floyd humming happily on the other end of the line. “What else do you want to know?”

“About Jade.” He responds immediately. “What else did you find out about him?”

“In addition to what I said about him being a partner in that restaurant, there were many photos of natural landscapes. However, more specifically…”

“Mushrooms.” Floyd finishes his reasoning before you can finish it yourself. His annoyance on the other end of the line was noticeable in the tone of his voice full of disgust, as if each syllable of the word 'mushrooms' was already cursed in itself. “I thought this was just temporary"

“Let’s change the subject then.” You quickly think of an alternative, not wanting to ruin his good mood. “What kind of music do you like?”

“I like different styles, but lately I've been listening to some rock bands.”

“Cool, I like it too.” You say, and then a brilliant idea springs from your mind. “Tell me a band you like and I’ll show you a new song from them!”

"Serious? Hehehe!” Floyd seems ecstatic at the idea, laughing happily on the other end of the line. “It looks like we’re going to get along really well~”

[…]

You stayed talking to Floyd for over two hours, only hanging up when you told him you needed to study. He didn't seem happy about it, insisting that you continue talking about future events. However, you were firm in your decision and reassured him by saying that he could always call you the next day. Despite himself, the boy agreed because he couldn't force you to do anything. Floyd was just a voice from the past, after all.

The study, however, was a blatant lie. You had received a message from Ace on your digital cell phone, in which he asked you to go to a specific address to be together again. And now, with your mind a little more balanced without your hormones getting in the way of your reasoning, you weren't sure if you should do this.

A part of you felt quite dirty and a little guilty about having sex with a married man. To make matters worse, in the bed he shared with his wife for years. However, another part of you, that selfish and perverse part that existed in the darkest corner of your mind, felt terribly excited at the idea of meeting Ace in secret and spending quality time with him again.

It was so wrong and exactly for this why it was so good.

Ace had given you his word of a future divorce and you clung to that as a safe haven, to try and convince yourself that this wasn't as bad as it seemed.

You still pondered for a few minutes, before responding to him with an “ok” and stating that you would meet him in an hour.

Without wasting any more time, you took a shower, put on one of your best clothes and put on makeup in a simple way with just a reddish lipstick on your lips and dark shading. Not wanting to pamper yourself too much, you knew that later your makeup would be completely smudged for not very holy reasons.

When you went downstairs, your parents obviously asked where you were going all dressed up and your answer was to say that you would meet some friends, without an exact time to arrive. Your father was even kind enough to offer you a ride, but you immediately declined the offer, saying the meeting place was nearby.

It was a lie.

After walking a few meters to trick your parents, you had to call an Uber to take you to the address. It wasn't a surprise when you realized the meeting place was at a motel.

You got out of the car and immediately saw Ace in front of the establishment, waving at him.

“Wow, you look beautiful.” He is surprised to see you, taking a long and blatant look from top to bottom, for a moment focusing on the neckline that left part of your breasts exposed, before looking back at your face.

"Thanks." You respond shyly and feel your cheeks heat up, clearly having a weakness for sincere compliments. “Can we go in soon? I don’t want someone I know to see me.” You look around worriedly, immediately wrapping your hands around Ace's arm to pull him towards the motel's glass door.

“Wow, someone is really in a hurry.” Ace mocks with a mischievous smile, still standing in the same place like a statue. He just moves to wrap arms around your body and pull her against his chest. You shiver when you feel the redhead warm breath against the sensitive skin of your ear. “Was our fuck the other day that good?” Ace whispers mischievously, his husky voice giving you awkward sensations.

However, the trigger for your face to explode red is when you feel a suggestive pinch on your ass. “Stop playing with me!” You scream, even though you weren't really angry, but rather embarrassed.

You move away from him and stamp your foot on the ground, upset by Ace's cluelessness. He was the one who should be most worried about being discovered or recognized by someone. Instead, here was Trappola, mocking your caution and messing with you to boot.

“Hahaha. Okay, okay.” He raises his hands up in surrender, but still laughing at your energetic reaction. “I promise I’ll behave.”

It was an obvious lie, but you still believe him.

Without further ado from Ace, he affectionately wraps a hand around your waist and walks with you into the establishment. The receptionist who was inside, behind a marble counter, takes a long and not at all discreet look at the two of you, visibly judging the obvious age difference. It didn't help that you looked more like a sixteen-year-old teenager than a twenty-year-old adult.

“Did you see the way that woman looked at us?” Ace asks in the middle of the room corridors after making payment and receiving the key.

“She was probably thinking about whether or not she should call the police.” You joked, giving a lighthearted laugh.

Ace snorted in annoyance at the joke, but he soon followed up his morally dubious humor with a chuckle as he looked at you.

“It’s here.” He says as he observes that the label glued to the key had the same number as the door, unlocking it and gesturing for you to do the honors of entering. “Ladies first.” Ace winks in amusement and you innocently fall for his joke, before walking through the door and feeling a second pinch on your ass.

“Ahh!” You let out a scream of surprise, but quickly composed yourself as you made an annoyed expression and turned to face Ace, who was laughing behind you like a stupid teenager. “You said you would behave.”

“Of course, but that’s outside.” He enters the room and locks the door behind him. “There’s no one else here for you to be scared of, right?” He asks in a whisper full of cynicism, as he slowly approaches you.

“Don't make fun of my face!" You scream, pretending to be angry to try and hide the embarrassment that spread across your face.

Ace was a damn smartass who wouldn't keep quiet until someone shut him up. And, apparently, you had no choice but to be that “someone.”

Going on the attack, you grab his shirt and pull him towards you, silencing him with a sudden kiss before another provocation leaves your lips. Ace seems surprised at first, but kisses back by opening his mouth and allowing both tongues to meet.

The warm kiss only lasts a few seconds before you pull away from Trappola and ask him to sit on the bed, who promptly does so with a palpable expectation of what you would do next.

Although you were shy at first, you need to swallow this feeling reluctantly to get closer to him and bend your body until you were close to the redhead's ear: “Take off your belt."

As expected, Ace did so quickly and let him fall to the ground, opening his legs in anticipation of what would happen in a few seconds. He stares at you with obvious longing, biting his lower lip as he waits patiently for you to make your next move.

Without wasting time, you kneel in front of Trappola and take your inexperienced hands to the fly of his pants. When you open it, Ace slightly lifts his hips so you can pull down his pants along with his white underwear with a heart print.

A giggle escapes your lips and you decide that you couldn't let this opportunity pass you by. “Little hearts? How cute." You scoff, feeling refreshed when you notice the blush that immediately appears on Ace's cheeks.

Revenge has never been so sweet.

You bring your mouth closer to his already half-hard cock and give Ace's glans a short lick. This one, who couldn't help but notice her pink lips as they approached the tip of his cock, the small and simple touch was able to make him let out a small sigh. He imagines beforehand, how your little mouth wrapped around his dick, would be so perfect to relieve him.

You slowly start to shelter Trappola's penis and taste it more intensely, realizing that the taste wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. A little more relaxed in light of this fact, you close your eyes and begin to make initially slow movements back and forth, only sucking half of his length. Of course you had never done that in your entire life, but at least you were aware that you shouldn't use your teeth under any circumstances. That had to be worth something.

Ace closes his eyes and subtly throws his head up when he feels that half of his member has been sheltered. And it got even better with those back and forth movements you started to make. Although slow, they were like a massage on his penis.

You looked up and enjoyed seeing him being so resigned, completely at the mercy of your whims. You also loved hearing him moan, and as much as Ace's beautiful sighs were similar to a beautiful symphony to your ears, you longed to hear more.

With that thought in mind, you used your tongue to focus on the most sensitive point, licking the glans greedily and from this action feeling a salty liquid in your mouth, which you identified as pre-cum. Your back and forth movements also became a little faster than normal, which made you get what you wanted as soon as the redhead's moans intensified.

You were doing your best not to interrupt the blowjob, but you weren't yet experienced enough to be able to breathe through your nose and suck Ace so eagerly. Inevitably, after a few seconds, you had to separate your lips from the redhead's cock to take a few sips of air.

“Don’t stop.” Ace dictates with the heavy breathing.

You quickly understand that it wasn't a request, but rather an order when he abruptly grabs your hair to bring you back towards his cock, forcing the entire length down your throat in a single thrust inside.

Poor, foolish thing you were, who mistakenly thought were in control of the situation.

You patted Ace's knee to make him let go of his head, but he wasn't paying attention, or was simply categorically ignoring you. Definitely the latter, as he starts to force his dick down your throat several times.

As you choked on his penis, Ace let moans and sighs louder than the previous ones escape your mouth, revealing the pleasure he felt in an explicit and exclusive way for you. And realizing that there was no way to get his dick out of your mouth without making him cum first, you have no choice but to try to relax your own throat so you can take him in.

Lost amidst thoughts of lust, possession and desire, Ace had nothing to complain about. The speed was incredibly perfect, frantic, and his tongue made the right movements to make him intoxicated to the point of disconnecting from the world and just moaning more and more, muffled but still loud. The redhead could feel that he was getting closer and closer to the peak, all through that inexperienced and delicious little mouth of you.

Holding his bottom lip with his teeth, Ace allows himself to melt into the mouth that he has come to love even more. Such pleasure is felt by the redhead, that he feels his vision become slightly blurred and dark, letting those fantastic spasms grace every cell of his body.

You swallow every drop of his semen, completely unwillingly. It wasn't horrible, but it was far from good. And after using your throat as a cum dump, Ace lets go of your hair and you finally free yourself from his cock, moving away from it and breathing heavily, tired after all that exercise you had done with your mouth.

“Ace, you’re an asshole.” You cursed him after normalizing your breathing, visibly upset. “Did you want to choke me with your dick?”

“Hey, I will reward you.” Ace smiles suspiciously gently, before grabbing your shoulders and pulling you into a kiss, not seeming to care about the taste of himself present in your mouth.

You feel like biting him as a form of revenge, but end up giving up because you do not want to break a contact as intimate and pleasant as that.

“Now it’s my turn.” Ace says seductively after breaking the kiss, licking his lower lip in clear provocation.

Oh, heavens, you were going to hell because of this man.

[...]

Floyd called you at two o'clock the next day, with just one more day to go until his probable death.

“Have you fixed the bike yet?” It was the first thing you said after answering the call.

“Yep~”

“You’re not going out with her tomorrow, are you?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay at home all day.” He soothes. “The only way I could end up dying in my own house is if a meteor hit it.”

“Be careful, okay?” You ask, afraid that something else might happen. “I really don’t want you to get hurt.”

“You’re so cute, worrying about someone you barely know.”

"Really? I don’t think that, I consider you a friend.” You admit it honestly.

“Eeehh, so you called yourself my friend without my consent?” The boy lets out a chuckle on the other end of the line. “Bad girl.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You speak awkwardly, the regret of your own words knocking on the door. Maybe it was too early to put a title on the relationship you had with the voice on the other end.

“Hehe, you took my joke too seriously.” Floyd comments relaxedly after noticing how worried you seemed. “I’m just kidding, kidding.”

“Phew.” A sigh of relief leaves your lips.

“Nee, nee~ what do you think will happen when the future changes?” Floyd asks, excited about the possibilities. “Do you think you’ll still be living on here?”

“Hard to say. But if your parents only moved because of the tragedy, then they will probably still be here.” You comment, not thinking much about it at first. “And me, well, in my old house or somewhere else. That's what I think at the moment, changes in the past can cause infinite possibilities in the future or even a time lapse, who knows…

“Boring~” Floyd grumbles. “You’re a nerd.”

“I’m not a nerd.” You defend yourself, outraged by the boy's derogatory comment. “I just love time travel movies. You never watched-…”

Your words die in your throat, a sudden, silent astonishment that makes you pale from one second to the next.

You finally realize that realizing an alternate future would mean never meeting Ace. Even the memories of the two of you together could be erased from his mind, as if they had never occurred. And in fact, they wouldn't happen.

From the beginning you knew that things could change and you hadn't cared so much about it, but now it was different. Maybe you didn't love he yet, but you definitely felt something for him that went beyond physical attraction, even before you had sex with Ace.

“Hey, you okay? You were suddenly quiet.” Floyd asks, his tone showing genuine concern.

“I need to hang up, sorry.”

You don't give Floyd enough time to ask why, before quickly hanging up the phone on him. You would apologize later, especially now that the boy would have all the time in the world to live a happy and comfortable life, at the expense of his memories with Ace.

Wait, were you really starting to regret possibly saving a life, just because of a passion that would predictably, one time or another, go wrong?

When you realize this, you feel even worse. It wasn't right to choose between the two, but here you were, which in the most disgusting part of your core you were rooting for, practically praying, that the next day nothing would change, even if it meant never getting any calls from your friend Floyd again.

You shake your head in denial, hating your own thoughts. It was still better to let go of his unspecified relationship with the redhead than to let someone die out of pure selfishness.

You weren't like that, you didn't want to be like that.

You drop the red phone on your desk and decide to leave the house to get some fresh air, convinced that this could clear your mind.

[...]

You were sleeping when the red phone rang at midnight.

Groggy with sleep, you struggle to get up from your warm and cozy bed, walking towards the desk where your phone rested.

you catch him, but don't answer. Possessing the knowledge that it must be that strange voice, it is your preference to not want to talk to him anymore after the incident with the doll.

“If you keep going, he’ll come get you.”

You remember the warning she gave and an unpleasant sensation rises throughout your bone marrow. You immediately decline the call and place the phone on the table again, returning to bed.

The moment your head hits the pillow, that's when that damn device resonates again. Annoyed, but also afraid, you get up again and this time open the back of the phone to remove the battery from inside, aware that this way no one else could disturb your rest or test your sanity.

You rest both objects on the surface of the desk and turn your back to go back to sleep, thus having a wonderful night's sleep without any further interruptions.

Or…

That would be the case, if the ringing of that cursed telephone hadn't resounded through the room again.

Your breath comes out ragged in sudden astonishment and your eyes widen in clear terror, remaining stagnant in place with nothing but the most genuine feeling of fear, almost as if that old device would swallow you whole if you dared to face it again.

But you have no choice.

Fearfully, you turn around, finding nothing more than the red phone itself continually beeping. Next to it, the battery that was supposed to stop it working when removed, but apparently not serving its purpose.

There were no monsters on here, but your terror doesn't calm down when you notice your bedroom window is open. And you don't remember leaving her like that.

You swallow hard and approach the window, looking through it to see if someone was snooping around your house. Luckily, finding nothing more than just the emptiness of the night.

You quickly walk away and close the window. In addition to locking it, cover the windows with the blind.

Turning your attention to the phone that continues to ring incessantly, from inside your wardrobe you take out a sweatshirt and use it to wrap the object, then storing it inside one of the desk drawers.

You go back to bed and try to ignore the muffled ringing, which persists for the rest of the night.

[...]

Floyd would die today.

Although you searched the internet for more information about his death, the time of the accident had not been specified, only the date and how it occurred. You could just wait for the boy's phone call or simply for an alternative time, in which you would end up waking up in your old house and perhaps with no memories of any of it.

Honestly, a phone call was much more desirable, despite the scare you experienced the night before because of it.

However, it is better to forget about past events and start checking your window every night before going to sleep, or you would become paranoid. In the end, a phone working even without a battery wasn't even as bizarre as the idea of talking to someone from the past.

Your digital cell phone rings with a message notification and you realize it's from Ace, who once again asked you to meet him, this time at his house. You are quick to respond.

2: 14 PM And your wife?

2:14 PM Ace: She's at her parents' house with Alice. We can spend some time alone, what do you think?

14h14 PM Shouldn't you be working?

2:15 PM Ace: Day off, baby

14h15 PM It's okay then. I'll be there in thirty minutes

2:16 PM But be quick to open the door when I ring the doorbell! My parents can't see me coming into your house >.<

14h16 PM Ace: Ok

A huge smile adorns your lips and you let out small laughs of happiness, ecstatic at the idea of being able to see him one last time before the weather probably changes.

But maybe you would still receive some calls from Floyd, so it would be appropriate to take the red phone with you to Ace's house. So, you do it, placing it inside a small black bag next to your digital cell phone.

You dress up in an average way so as not to arouse suspicion and then go downstairs, telling your mother that you were going to the library to study a little. Believing your lie, she just tells you to take care of yourself and releases you without any questions.

You walk through the front door, before checking to make sure your mother isn't close behind and running to the other side of the street. You ring the bell at the redhead's house, and it doesn't take him more than five seconds to open the door for you.

“I feel like I’m committing a crime.” You say in an amused tone, quickly stepping inside his house and feeling less alert the moment you hear him close the door.

“I missed you.” Ace states as he places both hands on your waist, inducing you to turn around and face him.

“It hasn’t even been that long since we were last together.” You refer to the day at the motel, involving your arms circling around Ace's neck. He leans in to press his lips to yours and you close your eyes in anticipation, receiving a gentle, loving peck. It takes a lot of your self-control not to give in when the redhead brushes his tongue against your lower lip, because you knew that he clearly already had ulterior motives in wanting to spice up that kiss. You would end up in his bed again, if you weren't more cunning than that naught guy. And although it was a really tempting idea, you didn't want all your romantic moments with him to be summed up just in sex, especially this moment, which could be your last. Therefore, you push him away by, gently pushing his chest and taking distance from his lips, looking him directly in the eyes. “Can we just watch a movie or something?”

Ace looks surprised at first, almost disappointed. But he's quick to cover it up, by softening his expression and giving you a smile so you wouldn't notice, even though it was a little late.

“Okay, fine.” Ace removes his hands from your waist, but he doesn't move away. Quite the contrary, the older man wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding your to the sofa. “It’s not like I’m just with you for the sex.”

Although in a joking tone, the comment opens a hole in your head, making you wonder if that was precisely why he was with you.

A young, childless and disciplined girl.

In the middle of a scorching desert, you were like an oasis for Ace.

No, it wasn't the time to think that. You should enjoy the time you had left with him, poking this hornet's nest inside your mind was by far a stupid idea.

You sit on the couch, snuggled up against each other. Ace reaches for the controller on the coffee table and chooses a movie that he finds interesting enough that neither of you end up falling asleep.

Little by little, as the minutes of the film go on, you come to appreciate the moment of intimacy and your worries are quickly put aside. Every now and then Ace takes a strand of your hair to curl between his fingers, and if not that, he's stroking the top of your head in a gentle, affectionate stroke.

Although the content of the film is interesting, you can't fight the sleep that creeps into your mind. The previous night's poor sleep is one of the main reasons for this, but it doesn't help being so comfortably close to Ace, with your head resting on his shoulder.

In the end, both reasons are the right recipe for you to fall asleep.

[...]

You wake up by yourself after a few hours, for a moment disoriented about where you were and whether the time had already changed, until you realize that the ceiling you were looking at was Ace house and not your old house.

You notice that you are lying on the couch, without the redhead by your side.

“Ace?” You get up from the upholstery and raise your voice to call his name. Upon his call, it doesn't take more than a few seconds for him to appear at the kitchen door. "What time is it?" You ask worried, both because you know you can't get home too late, and because the redhead's wife could arrive at any moment.

“Five-fifteen.”

“Damn, I slept for almost three hours!?” You ask in a daze and quickly pull your digital cell phone out of your bag, seeing that there were some messages from your mother and three missed calls.

“You looked pretty tired.” The redhead says as he approaches you “Studying late?”

“More or less that.” You omit the truth. He would never believe that ridiculous story about talking to someone from the past. “I’m sorry, Ace.” You say, feeling guilty for not spending enough time with him. “I would like to stay with you, but now I need to go back or my mother will kill me.”

“Okay, we can be together next time.”

I don't know if we'll have one next time.

You think, still afraid of the possibility of forgetting him.

But Ace, oblivious to your problems, removes those thoughts from your mind — albeit temporarily — by getting close enough so he can press his lips to yours. Unlike the first time, you accept him willingly when he tries to intensify the kiss.

The contact of both tongues intertwining in an intimate union is quite fervent and passionate, but it also contains a small trace of desperation on your part, aware that perhaps this would be your last kiss with him.

You pull away after a while, both because you need to breathe and because you need to leave. Ace smiles at you and gently tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, before walking away to go towards the window, checking if there was anyone on the street who might catch you leaving his house.

“All clear.” Ace warns.

At the green light, you immediately go to the door and open it, saying goodbye to Ace with a sharp pain in your chest.

You wished this wasn’t the last time.

Crossing the street and opening the door of her house, her mother and father were already waiting for her on the sofa in the living room.

It went without saying how much your mother started arguing the moment she saw you stepping foot in the house, asking why you had a cell phone when you didn't even answer a damn message. Your father also sided with her, but in a milder way, just advising you to pay more attention and not spend so much time on the street.

After listening to all the complaints that your mother had to say to you, you went up to your room and took the red phone out of your bag after locking the door, checking if there was a missed call on it too. Nothing.

You placed it on the desk and sat in the chair, deciding to wait for a call from Floyd while killing time by scrolling through your laptop.

[...]

The red phone rings at midnight.

You don't answer, knowing it's that strange male voice, rather than your friend Floyd — who hadn't yet shown any sign of life.

Maybe it was already too late to wait for a call from him. Who knows, perhaps his death was accomplished, even after all the warnings and advice given.

This makes you feel really bad, feeling not only bitter and sad about the possibility that he really died, but also guilty for having for a moment wished for that to actually happen.

The feeling of remorse covers him like a heavy blanket. Sudden tears escape your eyes and you wonder how you could have done more to help him.

Even in mourning, the stranger on the other end of the line doesn't stop, much less respect your pain.

As the seconds pass, the tinkling becomes more and more unbearable, like a macabre orchestra playing the march of the gates of hell as they open.

You grab that cursed device and answer the call.

“What the fuck do you want?” There is no trace of fear in you, other than the purest and most genuine anger. When there is no response other than a panting breath on the other end of the line, you ask in a more shouty manner. “WHAT DO YOU FUCKING WANT!?”

When there is still no response, you lose patience and hang up the phone. To prevent the tinkling from bothering you, you do the same process as yesterday: wrapping it in a sweatshirt and throwing it in the desk drawer.

You lay down to sleep and the tears return.

[...]

The next day, you feel as exhausted as before, as if your body hadn't gotten enough rest. However, you were fully aware that all this fatigue was not from your body, but from your own mind, shaken by Floyd's death.

You had simply convinced yourself that he would never call again, especially after waking up and realizing that you were still in the house you bought a few months ago, without any sign of change in the present.

You try to let it go, try to convince yourself that you did what you could and that Floyd probably didn't listen to you enough, leaving on his motorcycle even after all the warnings.

Apparently, blaming the victim of the tragedy herself was the only way to feel better, to not feel as helpless and guilty as she was now.

You try your best to put on a neutral expression on your face, pretending everything was fine and heading downstairs to have breakfast, even though your stomach was upset and your throat was completely blocked. You needed to pretend or your family would ask what the problem was, not wanting to be pressured with questions.

Your eyes hover over your mother and father, who were sitting near the kitchen counter. You wish them good morning and sit next to your father, half filling the glass that rested on the table with orange juice, then taking a slice of toasted bread and bringing it to your mouth, biting a piece. It's the best you could eat, without probably ending up vomiting.

You can't taste anything after the stress of these last two days, which finally came to a head last night after all that shedding of tears. You try your best to focus on the taste, but you don't taste anything other than the sweetness of the bread and the sourness of the juice. Each swallow is forced, your throat vehemently refuses each bite and it hurts.

You look at every corner of the kitchen, trying to distract yourself — from the pain and the sudden urge to cry — with anything that is remotely interesting, so that your active brain can have some daydreaming.

Don't think about Floyd. Don't think about him.

You think about him, while you argue with your own mind not to do this, so that it gets distracted by something.

Get distracted by something. Something. Think of something. Start a conversation.

His eyes continue to move, like prey looking for a way to escape its hunter. However, you were not prey, as you were just trying to escape your own tears and bitter emotions.

The guilt continued to haunt you, already rooted in you like a dark stain embedded in soul, just like that strange stain above the ceiling.

Stain… dark?

“Mom, has the ceiling always been like this?” You ask, aware that you had never noticed that before.

“That question again?” You don't understand what she means by that, as far as you knew, you had never even noticed that stain. “Yes, it has always been like this. But I keep telling your father to fix this.” She expresses obvious annoyance, staring directly at her husband. This one, who just pretends not to hear it.

“And what happened to him?” You look more closely, the stain snaked its way across the ceiling to the kitchen door as if a very large and disgusting snake had passed through there and left a trail of soot.

“I already told you that too.” She looks at you like you're an idiot asking the same thing twice in a row. And, apparently that was it, although you weren't aware that you'd ever asked those questions. “Don’t you remember that the house was falling apart when we first came to visit?” No, the house wasn't falling apart as far as you remembered. It just looked abandoned, nothing more. “The purchase was cheap because of the state, but the renovation ended up costing a lot, anyway.”

As if your body is being controlled by invisible wires, you rise from your seat and are driven purely by morbid curiosity. Your feet walk on the ground while your eyes wander through the air, following that soot snake that goes far beyond the kitchen, realizing that it also spreads to the ceiling of the living room, climbing the walls of the stairs to the bedroom hallway. It's horrible.

Regardless of how inattentive you were sometimes, your house had never been like that.

It was as if it had simply changed overnight.

Thank you for reading this far! Constructive criticism is always welcome!

I will only be back in January or February.

Bye~💖

#twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twst smut #floyd leech smut #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech x reader smut #floyd twst #ace trapolla x reader #ace trappola #twst ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #ace trappola smut

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sir-fenris · 3 days ago

Text

Aw, thanks for tagging me @floral-comet-whump and @paingoes 🌟

(I'm a big fan of saying all you need and want to, so forgive me for the big comments)

@paingoes thank you for always indulging my analysis of your works, taking the time to answer them all so thoroughly, just as you answer asks in such a detailed and considerate manner. Your story is amazing and has a permanent place in my headspace. Also, thanks for reposting my arts, I know many people just met my works because of that exposure <3.

@floral-comet-whump thank you for letting me use your prompts! I still didn't use all of the ones I saved because the end of the year is a busy time, but your prompts are really good and perfect for the writing training I am putting myself through. Also, thank you for interacting so frequently with my posts; it puts a smile on my face every time I get the notifs and I really appreciate it <3.

@friendlylocalwhumper , @just-horrible-things and @whump-sprite , thank you for writing your stories, it was my first big universe in whump reading, and I really had a long, thrilling fun with all of it. It was the first time I had to create a tag for a universe/work specifically because I reblogged too many stories of it XD. Hope you always find happiness in writing more, your works are truly amazing <3.

On that note, @whumpitisthen thank you for your story too! I usually can't sit through long writings, especially not very descriptive ones, but your story was simply too good not to read until the end XD. Thank you for being my starting point for meeting so many blogs too, my early phase of finding whump blogs pretty much started with yours <3

@teine-mallaichte , thank you for answering my ask game and for interacting with my posts, I am still reading your works, but they're awesome <3

@thewhumpcaretaker , @melpomenelamusa , @cepheusgalaxy , @bilightningwhumper , @inhurtandincomfort and @doumidas-whumps thank you guys for interacting with so many of my posts <3 I see and really appreciate it :D

Gosh, I thanked a lot of people, right? Well. One more won't hurt :). Thank you to everyone who has ever interacted with any of my posts and sees this. All the interactions I've gotten on my posts (comments, reblogs, silent reblogs, likes, and so on) make me giggle like a teenager with happiness. Putting my work into the world and receiving even the smallest response from someone who enjoyed it will never lose its sparkle of joy :D <3.

Saw someone do this. Thought it would be fun!

End of year important people list (whump community edition!)

Reblog and tag all of your favorite whump creators, friends in the whump community, anyone in the whump community really, and let them know how much you care about them!

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phantomwithbreakfast · 2 days ago

Text

✩ ~ If You Know, You Know ~ ✩

If you’re adrift in your own vivid, imaginary world, you know. If your mind doesn’t follow the typical pathways, you know.

(A kind of animated thing at the end of this)

———————

The sunlight stretched long fingers through my window, spilling warm streaks across the cluttered floor. Paints, pencils, and half-finished sketches surrounded me, a small fortress of creative chaos. I was deep into it—lost in the rhythm of sketching lines that might, just might, lead somewhere—when Danny appeared.

At first, he was just a shadow in the corner of my eye, a faint blur of movement. But then, as if the sunlight solidified him, he stood there, leaning casually against the wall like he’d always been a part of this room.

“Working hard or hardly working?” he teased me, that lopsided grin of his making me smile despite myself.

I waved him off, pretending I was drawing. “What do you think, genius?”

Danny didn’t answer.

Of course, he didn’t.

He never gave me that satisfaction. So instead, he plopped himself on my desk chair and began whistling.

“Do you mind?” I asked, feigning irritation.

He shrugged. “Not really.”

I rolled my eyes and tried to concentrate, but Danny had other plans. He started tapping his fingers on my desk, drumming out some rhythm that had no beginning and no end. When that didn’t get a rise out of me, he started humming—soft at first, then louder, adding lyrics that made absolutely no freaking sense.

“Danny!”

“What? You looked like you needed a break.”

“I don’t.”

“You sure?” He grinned wider and reached over to nudge one of my pencils off the desk. It clattered to the floor, joining the others he’d already scattered.

This was the thing about Danny. He didn’t come when I needed him, not really. He came when I thought I didn’t need anyone. He came when I was so buried in my own mind—in every single way possible—that I didn’t notice the sunlight anymore or the way the world felt alive outside these four walls.

If you know, you know. If you’re the kind of person whose head is so full of ideas it feels like it might burst, you know what it’s like to have a Danny. Someone that pulls you out of your own brain and reminds you there’s more to life than the next line, the next stroke, the next brilliant thought.

“Okay, fine,” I sighed, setting my pencil down. “You win.”

Danny lit up like I’d handed him a trophy. “Excellent choice.”

He flopped onto the floor beside me against the wall, staring up at the ceiling like he was seeing constellations in the cracks of the plaster.

“So, what are we working on today?” He asked.

“I am working,” I corrected. “You are distracting.”

“Same difference.”

He turned his head to grin at me, and for a slight moment, I forgot all about the mess, the deadlines, the pressure.

It didn’t matter that Danny would probably be gone in a few hours, fading back into wherever he came from. What mattered was that right now, he was here. Pulling me out of myself, turning my messy little room into something brighter, something more alive.

And maybe that was the point of Danny. He wasn’t here to stay. He was here to remind me that sometimes, it’s okay to put the pencil down and just exist.

For a while, we just sat there, watching the sunlight move across the walls, filling the silence with his whistling and my laughter.

Again, if you know, you know.

———————

When my full hyper-fixated ADHD brain kicks in, this happens. Most of the time it’s just Phantom that shows up though, not Danny as Fenton. (I was doubting to post this, but yeah. I did it anyway)

———————

—OC: Hailey.

I’m that kind of a Phan… (っᵔ◡ᵔ)っ⋆˙⟡♡

Please, tell me I’m not the only one for Danny’s sake…

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domwitch · 1 day ago

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Thinking about needing a domme's permission to wear pants, and being bottom naked by default. Some important features of this arrangement:

Gives her easy access

I can't hide it if I get an erection

Always tempted to touch myself (whether or not I'm allowed to is a different conversation)

If there's someone at the door, I have to let her answer (this is correct anyway, she's the head of the household)

If I complain about being cold, she'll force me to cockwarm instead of letting me get dressed

If I complain about being embarrassed, she'll make me lay in her lap while she jerks me off--after cumming a few times I'll be too dumb to be embarrassed

She can slap my face or play with my nipples and watch me instantly get hard

I have to ask (sometimes beg) her permission before I can get dressed and leave the house

(Walking around in just a t-shirt makes me feel slutty and hot as fuck)

(Walking around in just *her hoodie* makes me feel even hotter, even sluttier, and completely and utterly owned)

Basically, all in all it reinforces my subservient role. I'm her pretty thing that she keeps around for sex, and I need her permission to pretend to be anything else.

Oh this is pretty great!! Love the idea of cockwarming if you get cold, that's sooo cute. I think personally some thigh highs would be cute for like winter if it gets really cold, but just a big t-shirt (or a crop top during summer!) is enough for me. Plus with a butt plug and/or a chastity cage it'd be like a constant reminder you're owned.

#ask #that last part is supplemental ofc #im not a big chastity or plug fan but you know.......... like if im gone for a while and he needs smth to keep him in line

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max-the-many · 11 hours ago

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Hello, I need your help. My best friend got cheated by her boyfriend, an homophobic douchebag that is in love with himself. He always makes fun of me when she is not looking and now he cheated on her.Can you give him his money back? Trapping him inside a gay bottom twink or something? Your pice will be mine. He deserves the worst for what he did!

When I read this I was hooked immediately. Not that I really cared to be honest. I mean, it is bad what he did, but for me, it was mostly an excuse. There's something really satisfying dealing with such a guy.

So I got on the road the same night. Luckily it wasn't that far. Antony even gave me the name of a bar where that guy frequently hung out so as it was friday, the urge to get there was even stronger.

When I got in, I couldn't see him based on the pictures Anthony provided. So I sat down to have a drink. The bar was moderately busy and I looked around, wondering if anyone could maybe help as there surely would be several knowing Lyle.

So eventually I started chatting to a guy sitting next to me. He actually knew Lyle, but just barely from the bar. He showed me another dude, though, that should be closer to Lyle.

It probably was a bit weird to ask about him like that even though I pretended to wait for him. But that guy didn't seem to care.

So I didn't care either, especially when that friend of Lyle went to the restrooms.

‘Why not’ I thought, going after him.

When I got in, he stood infront of a pissoir, his body nicely framed, a bit leaner than Lyle but easily some kind of gymbuddy.

‘Classic’ I thought when I saw him there, the room otherwise empty besides a closed stall.

But this wouldn't be the first time I acted in such a situation so I stepped to the urinal besides him, prepared to hit him with a shot as soon as he was finished, dragging him into the next stall, making sure not to be too rampant.

As he was sitting on the toilet seat infront of me I really got excited. He really wasn't the worst to slip in. Short hair, stumbled face, sporty, wearing a casual T and rather tight jeans which I was happy to get off now.

Seeing him naked, getting flatter and flatter only added to the appeal while I got naked myself.

As I eventually stepped out in my new persona the guy from the other stall was washing his hands, watching me suspiciously.

“What is it?" I hit him, getting quite the kick on speaking with my new voice the first time, but the other guy didn't reply.

Back in the bar nothing much had changed. So I went to the guys I saw my new persona with. Turned out to be a pretty good source of information, giving me quite some insight of Lyle though they probably exaggerated as he probably did to them as well. But after that I was pretty sure that he wasn't cheating just that one time. Unfortunately it turned out that he wouldn't be in the bar tonight. But this shouldn't be a problem at all as I got his address, making a bit of a fool of myself as the guy I was in probably would have known it already.

After another drink I eventually heading out, searching for the car the keys in my pocket belonged to. Took quite a while to be honest.

10 minutes later I stood in front of a small bungalo. Light was on. So I stopped onto the porch.

“Lyle?” I knocked. But nothing happened. When I listened at the door I could clearly hear voices, movement. So I knocked again louder. “Lyle, common! It's Keith!” I added.

Another moment passed until I heard footsteps. Then the door opened.

“What the fuck!” was passed along while a topless Lyle appeared, having his belt open, clearly coming from some business he wasn't keen on being disturbed from.

“You got company?” I asked cheekily which he answered with an annoyed nod.

And I don't know what really crossed my mind, but more on instinct than on a clear plan I quickly reached into my pocket, pulled out a syringe and stuck it into his waist before he could even begin to wonder.

I smiled, pushed my way in and looked around.

“What just…Keith?”

A girl was sitting on a couch separating the entrance to a living area, turning her head at the scene I was providing, just wearing a bra and clearly not being his girlfriend.

“Ah! I'm sorry. He seemed to have forgotten our plans” I said, taking the steps towards her to give her another shot as she was frozen in irritation.

“Caught in the act” I smiled, walking around the couch to get a good look. She was quite cute with long, dark blonde hair and good equipment under her bra.

As I saw them both, now on their way to be good suits, an idea came to mind. Something I haven't done or even thought of so far. But when it got to my mind I had no other chance than to do it. It was just the perfect opportunity.

So I got to Lyle dragged him to the couch before getting him naked, doing the same to his date. Then came the tricky part, but I really was determined.

A good half an hour, it was ready. Sitting on the couch, just wearing her tight slip was that girl. Or should I say, both of them, neatly tied up on hand and feet.

“What…” she got out, clearly still busy. But as she let out her first words a certain look came on to her eyes.

“Where…” again she froze, looking around and finally down at herself.

“What is this! What…” she let out again, not able to process the situation, finally looking at me.

“Keith, what is this! And why am I… my voice… my…” she said looking down at herself. Or should I say, himself.

“Isn't it nice to see the world from a new perspective for once?” I said, looking at her with a devious smile before coming closer.

“She got quite the bod” I said “Isn't she?” while my hand slid over her voluminous breasts.

“Don't!” he stuttered.

“Or what? You seemed to liked her pretty much” I replied “and I can't complain. That face, those tits, and not to miss what awaits down there” I said, stroking along her body before diving between her legs.

“What… ahh” he let out in a mixture of anger and discontent.

“Don't you wonder what pleasures all those chicks get with your manly work?”

His eyes widened. “You…” was all he was able to get out before I pulled up the cloth around his neck, limiting him to nothing more than muffled sounds when I took his hand to lead it towards my crotch.

“We will have a lot of fun”...

---

Whomever sent this request. Feel free to reach out.

#male skinsuit #male bodysuit

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anbaisai · 3 days ago

Text

Finally had time to sit down and write, but honestly there’s not much to be said other than thank you to everyone who wrote a message on my tree! I really enjoyed reading every single message and screenshotting to save them into a folder for when I need a lil boost ww (including one from Mr. Viper himself above that got a laugh out of me, thanks Jamil really appreciate you thinking I’m cool)

Some sappiness under the cut:

I never expected to receive this much support for my silly yume/oc ship content when I began posting, and I really don’t have the words to express how grateful I am. I’ve met many wonderful people through this fandom, and also just had lots of fun in general making art. I mean it when I say I genuinely never had this much motivation and inspiration to create for any fandom (or original content) in the past. There was a long, long period in my life during which trying to find even a crumb of motivation to draw felt impossible. There was always some reason that I couldn’t - be it school/life being too busy, feeling too tired, having other stuff to do first, etc. I thought I’d never rediscover my love and passion for art, until I finally pushed myself to design my Yuu for real (instead of just thinking about it) and then everything just snowballed from there. (For context, I began playing TWST in 2020 and, despite being very much in love with it, only began drawing anything for it this year.)

I have such a massive list of ideas that I still want to draw (plus several asks that I want to answer that I just haven’t had the time to yet), so I’m certainly going to be kept busy for a while. After previously making every excuse possible for not drawing, I’ve learned that yeah, once you really love something you will squeeze time out for it no matter how hard things get, because it kills you not to. All those times when I wondered when I’d ever be able to draw as much as my favourite artists now feel like a distant relic of the past, and I have Twisted Wonderland (especially Jamil) and this community to thank for it. If anyone reading this is going through something similar, I promise it gets better - you will need to put in the effort to make it start, but you will get there.

There’s also my past experiences of being in fandoms that, well, did not welcome yume/self-shipping type content. If I so much as thought of creating any, the fear of being ridiculed would make me back away from the idea immediately. I’m glad to see that sentiment seems to be no longer the norm, but also the TWST fandom has been one of the most supportive of yume content I’ve ever seen. To everyone wanting to participate but has been hesitating, you absolutely should! My only regret is not starting sooner, seriously. In a sense I feel like I'm fulfilling a childhood dream of mine, and all of my past hesitation and anxiety just dissipated once... as cringe as it sounds - once love took over. So go pour your love and passion into that character you adore, they deserve it.

Anyways, wishing everyone a happy holidays and happy new year! Here’s to another year of enjoying TWST and creating for the things we love ❤

#syder txt #color my tree #also its going to be the year of the snake #which means its jamils year #which means i expect everyone to produce jamil content for the next 365 days /j #dear snake man you will always be special to me #no matter if some day i move on from this fandom

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southerngothicchic · 3 days ago

Text

A Merry, Little Christmas Night

Merry Christmas, everyone! My gift to you is some Gator fluff 😘

Gator sits in his truck, holding a small velvet box. He stares at it for the longest time before tearing his eyes away from it to look over at your house. He sees the brightly lit Christmas tree through the window and the multicolor string lights that line the porch. It's a familiar sight that feels different tonight. The thought of seeing you makes him nervous, though he knows it shouldn't. He worries you'll reject him like so many have before. He doesn't think he would survive that, as you're the only person who really means anything to him.

He sighs before putting the box in his pocket and opening the door. Snow crunches under his boots as he walks up the slippery path towards the porch.

The sound of his heavy footsteps echoes off the old wood and in his ears as he briefly pauses at the front door. His hand hovers over the doorknob, his nerves almost getting the best of him before he goes inside.

He's immediately greeted with warmth not just from the baseboard heaters but from the overall mood in the house. He passes through the living room, fondly observing the decorations that have been there since Thanksgiving. His eyes are then drawn to the muted TV playing National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. He smiles, knowing it's your favorite Christmas movie. It's then that he notices the scent of cinnamon in the air.

He reaches the kitchen doorway and just watches as you take a tray of cookies from the oven. You seem to be in your own little world as you set the tray on the counter before adjusting the oven's temperature to bake the last of the dinner rolls to accompany the rest of your Christmas feast. Once you put them in, you turn away towards the sink and that's when he decides to finally make his move.

He stands behind you, slipping his arms around your waist and presses his lips to your ear.

"Hey gorgeous," he softly greets, startling you.

You hiss his name before turning to look at him.

"You shouldn't sneak up on me like that," you scold, turning to face him.

"I couldn't help myself, wanted to surprise ya," he defends, pulling you tightly against him.

"Its okay," you then smile. "I'm just glad you're home. I heard we're in for another snowstorm tonight and I hated the thought of you still out on the road."

"I can handle myself out there, honey, ya know that," he replies, confident.

"I know, but still-"

"Nope, don't wanna hear it," he dismisses, cradling your face. "Just wanna kiss ya, since I've gone all day without it."

"So dramatic," you tease, as he leans in.

"Damn, so mouthy already," he smirks. "I think I need to take ya to bed and give ya an attitude adjustment."

"Not until after we eat," you reply, unfazed. "I didn't spend all day slaving over all this food for nothing."

"Fine," he huffs, with playful annoyance.

He then finally kisses you and it's more intense than you expect. Your body melts into his as he kisses you deeply. Regaining yourself, you gently push him away with a sigh of his name.

"I just really missed ya, honey," he says, suddenly bashful.

You smile up at him. "I know, I missed you, too, handsome. Now, go get changed so we can eat."

He nods, begrudgingly releasing you from his embrace. He gives you one last peck on the lips before heading towards the back bedroom.

He's glad to change into warmer, more comfortable clothes, as he puts on a forest green sweatshirt with black sweatpants. He also takes the little velvet box from his camo pant pocket and holds it in his hand. He's decided he's going to ask you after dinner, with hopes that he won't ruin Christmas.

When he reenteres the kitchen, he sees the table all set and waiting for him. He has to quickly blink away tears as he doesn't want you to see him cry just yet.

"Well, what do you think?" You ask, posing like a display model next to the table.

"Its perfect," he answers, walking over to you. "Just like you."

He kisses you sweetly and feels you smiling into it.

During dinner, he thinks how this is a preview of how all your Christmas' are going to be from now on and that almost brings another tear to his eye. He loves how effortless it was adjusting to the domesticity he's craved all his life. How you seemed to adore him, even when you pretended you didn't. He's never loved you more and his anxiety quietly builds as you join him on the couch to watch his favorite Christmas movie, Die Hard.

You hand him a couple of oatmeal raisin cookies you had baked earlier that afternoon and he quickly devours them. Giggling, you ask if he liked them and he nods so cutely. You hurry back to the kitchen and bring the rest of them to him, in a plastic bowl. He proceeds to eat them over the course of the movie.

By the time the credits roll, you're curled into his side, almost asleep. He glances at you before gently nudging you awake. You then look up at him, so groggy and sweet, he thinks his heart could burst.

"Sorry, honey, I just have something really important I wanna talk to ya about," he explains, as you raise your head from his chest.

"Okay..." you reply, unsure of what could be so important he waited to tell you now.

"Wait, you don't have to work tomorrow, do you? I swear, the next time I see Roy I'm gonna-"

"No, it's not that. I'm off, don't worry" he quickly assures. "It doesn't have anything to do with work, it's about you and me."

Your brows furrow as you look at him intently.

"Am I going to like where this is heading?" You then ask.

"Yeah, well, I hope so," he answers before taking a deep breath. "Until I met you, I didn't know anything like this was possible for me. A lot of girls thought I was a joke, which wasn't helped by my dad always makin' fun of me, so I really didn't date much after high school. I just focused on becomin' a cop, which wasn't hard, since I was the best shot in the academy. As years went on though, it got pretty lonely and I was startin' to wonder if there was anyone out there for me. Then, one day you showed up and when I walked up to your window and looked inside, I got this feeling, like, it was fate."

"So, love at first sight on a traffic stop?" You ask with a smile and he nods.

"Yeah, guess it was, because after that I always wanted to be near ya," he smiles, in return, gently taking your hands.

"I guess I was pretty smitten when I first saw you, too," you admit, gazing into his eyes. "You were the cutest cop I'd ever seen."

"I could tell ya liked me right off," he grins, "and after our first date, when I kissed ya for the first time, I didn't want to stop."

You move closer to him, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"I didn't want you to, either," you reply, sultrily.

You slip your hands out of his and drape your arms around his neck.

"Like, right now," he begins, his eyes lowering to your lips. "If I were to kiss ya, I wouldn't be able to stop."

"Which is what I'm counting on," you smile, but he pulls away.

"I can't yet, I still have more to say," he replies.

You nod and he continues, "I love you more than I ever thought I could love someone and I don't want to ever go back to how my life was before you, so..."

He leans back slightly and reaches into his pocket and retrieves the small box. Once you see it, your eyes widen and your arms drop from his shoulders.

"Will you marry me?" He asks while opening the box, revealing a modest diamond ring.

You actually gasp, already making him regret asking.

"I know it's not much, but I-" he adds before you lean forward and press your lips to his.

He doesn't move at first, unsure of what's happening.

"Yes," you breathe as you kiss his plush lips.

You repeat the word a few more times and his brain finally registers it. He then excitedly reciprocates your kiss. You both get so caught up in each other, temporarily forgetting what led to this impromptu makeout session.

"So," he pants, pressing his forehead to yours, "you really wanna marry me?"

"I do, is that so hard for you to believe?"

"Kinda, when you're like the girl of my dreams..." he answers

"Who knew you could be so sweet?" You ask with a laugh. "I think you need to make it official, though."

You pull away slightly and present your left hand. A lovesick smile spreads across his lips as he takes the ring from the box. He slips it onto your finger and is relieved when it fits perfectly.

"I love it," you say, holding up your hand. "And I love you."

"I love you, too," he begins, with a sly smile. "Now, wrap your legs around me again so I can finally take ya to bed."

You smile in return, moving closer and tightening your legs around him. He then lifts you with ease and carries you to the bedroom.

He then spends the rest of the night showing how much he loves you, until you both collapse in each other's arms, covered in hickies and sweat.

As he drifts off to sleep, a feeling of calm settles over him, for the first time. His fears of rejection seem so silly now when you're laying in his arms, so sweet and serene. He should've known all along that you'd never hurt him like that. He sighs contently before nuzzling his face into your neck.

After so many years of emptiness, he's finally found a place where he belongs and the love he's craved all his life.

#merry christmas y'all #gator tillman #gator tillman fluff #gator tillman x reader

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rinabin · 2 days ago

Text

dance practice

“fucking seunghan,” you mutter under your breath, turning down yet another hallway. hearing the lack of loud obnoxious music, you realize you’ve gone the wrong way for the third time. groaning internally, you question why you’d tried to find this place yourself instead of simply asking the front desk. and of course seunghan had to not answer his phone at this very moment. granted he was probably practicing but hey!!!! you're a girl struggling in this maze that they called the dance building, you're allowed to be mad.

just as you’re about to take another step, you hear someone calling your name. whipping your head around expecting seunghan to come save you, you see another pair of eyes blinking at you instead.

“wonbin?” you say, surprised.

wonbin gives you a small wave as he walks up. “what are you doing here? i’ve never seen you around the studio before” he asks.

explaining the dilemma you’re in, wonbin presses his lips together as if he’s trying not to laugh. you pause mid sentence and narrow your eyes at him, “so you think my suffering is funny?”

“no i would never think that,” he says with mock innocence. before you can retort, wonbin offers, “ i’m actually meeting them. you wanna walk together?” you nod, silently thanking wonbin for saving you from yourself.

a silence follows the two of you as you walk through the halls of the dance studio. taking in your environment, you try to memorize the correct turns and corners refusing to be embarrassed like this again.

“how’s daisy?” wonbin asks, catching you off guard.

“huh?”

“daisy,” he repeats, with a grin, “how is she? i need to make sure i left her in good hands.”

you stare at him, deadpan, “you’re asking me how a stuffed animal is doing?”

wonbin lets out a side smile, “she’s your daughter isn’t she?"

deciding to play along, you respond, “she’s very well, no thanks to you,” giving him a playful side eye.

wonbin lets out a scoff, dramatically bringing his hand to his chest, “yn! how are you insult me like this? i literally birthed her.”

"shut up,” you softly shove him with your shoulder walking alongside him.

“soooooooooo, do you dance?” you question.

“not professionally like taro”, wonbin clarifies, “but i do enjoy it. i drop in sometimes when he’s practicing to blow off some steam.” he opens the studio door for you, “we’re here”.

spotting seunghan, you immediately make a beeline towards him. “hey yn- ow what the hell!” seunghan exclaims as you lightly smack the back of his head.

“that’s for not answering my texts and leaving me to fend for myself in this maze” you huff out. seunghan, confused opens his bag to see the 50 messages you left him on his phone.

“oh my god yn. i am so sorry, i left my phone on dnd” he apologies. "at least you made it here,” seunghan meekly adds.

rolling your eyes for dramatics, you hand him his wallet. observing the studio as seunghan packs his wallet, you see shotaro drinking water. you shyly raise your hand as a greeting, which he returns with a smile and a nod. next to him, you spot wonbin taking off his jacket, revealing a white tank top that showcase his defined arm muscles. feeling your face get warm at the sight, you quickly look back down at seunghan who is still ruffling through his bag. watching him scramble through his bag, you let him know you’re going to head out.

“wait, no don’t go.” seunghan exclaims, standing up from his bag. “we’re gonna go for lunch after. come with us. it’s on me”.

toying with the straps of your jacket, you mumble that you don’t want to be an intrusion. seunghan reassures you that you won’t be, looking over to shotaro for backup. shotaro agrees, encouraging you to stay while wonbin adds a soft “stay” in support. you meet his eyes - maybe for a moment too long - before turning back at seunghan.

“okay”, you whisper as you slide down to get settled on the floor. as you put your stuff away, you make eye contact with wonbin once again. he meets your gaze with a gentle expression, definitelyyyyyy not leaving you with butterflies in your chest.

masterlist

prev | next

a/n: merry christmas and happy holidays!!! hope u all enjoy my gift to u <3

taglist [send an ask or comment to be added]: @antosaurius@jkeydiary@cherrytaesan@dorritoni@profoundruinsunknown @daegale @choc0br3ad

#obvious #riize smau #riize x reader #riize scenarios #riize imagines #wonbin x reader #wonbin imagines #wonbin scenarios #wonbin riize #park wonbin x reader #wonbin smau

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lafortezaboy · 2 days ago

Note

hey babes i'm sorry to hear that you have a time during the holidays 😢

this is actually my first time ever requesting !

can i request some dani x tmasc reader please 🙏

thank you lovely! you're a sweetheart, and holiday things did get a little overwhelming so i've only just gotten around to this, but i hope you enjoy! and, i'm honored to be your first request!!

content / warnings: established relationship, reader is an influencer, reader uses he / him pronouns, reader talks about being trans / realizing they were trans, there's no explicit transphobia but there are mentions of it, so please keep that in mind before reading

it wasn't often that you spent the night at the dorm. while you loved all the girls in your own way, with five other people living there, it could get chaotic quickly, and sometimes you and daniela just wanted to spend some time together. but when you had texted your girlfriend, asking if she wanted to come watch a new show with you, the texts you'd gotten back were worrisome.

daniela was never truly down. sure, she was just like everyone else and could be upset or sad, but her bright personality nearly always outshined in the end. unless something serious was wrong, she could shrug off anything. so getting the text that she didn't want to leave her bed? you'd told her you'd be there as soon as you could be, knowing that something was up.

getting to the dorm was no trouble, and sophia wasn't surprised to see you at all when she opened the door. that alone confirmed it, that something was wrong, and you needed to find out what. as soon as she saw you enter her room, she was lifting the blanket up for you, and you were slipping in beside her to pull her close, pressing kisses to her cheeks and the tip of her nose, telling her that it was okay, that you had her now.

you couldn't tell how much time passed as you held her, waiting until she was ready to talk, if she was willing to at all. you didn't mind the silence, though. you could hear faint squeals from one of the other girls – megan, if you had to guess, and you could hear the light noises that came with sophia making dinner. but daniela was what you focused on, on the way her hair felt so soft between your fingers, how her head rested perfectly in your neck, the comforting scent of her perfume. you could have fallen asleep, honestly, but when she shifted to look at you, she had your undivided attention.

"can i ask you something? about . . . about you, you know?" the way she asked the question clued you in pretty quickly, because you'd heard it before, from friends and family who were confused, from people who didn't understand. but her tone didn't feel the way theirs had, daniela seemed hesitant, but still a little curious. so you gave a little nod, fingers still running through her hair. "how did you know? that you're a man?"

the way she said it reassured that she meant no harm by it. others had worded it in such a way that had made you internally groan, fully expecting an argument by the time you were done. but she said it so surely, like she had no doubts, and that was partly why you felt the answer come so easily.

"well, for a while i didn't," you admitted, gazing up at the ceiling fan, watching the blades spin. "i knew i had always liked girls, and i was always a tomboy, but the gender stuff didn't really come in until puberty hit, and i started hating the way my body was changing." her arms tighten around you then, and you lean a little into her more, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead to show that you were okay.

"i started hating myself too, for a while, but i have great parents, and the second they realized i wasn't okay, they got me into a therapist. but i wasn't comfortable at first, because i had a woman therapist, and it just didn't feel like stuff i could say to a woman? so i asked to switch, and then they gave me this male therapist. and i could talk to him about stuff, you know? like sports and cars and video games, and all these things i had been taught that were the standard guy things, and i felt really comfortable with him. but i was jealous too, because i was going through all these changes and i didn't understand why my body couldn't look like his. why my voice couldn't get deeper or i couldn't grow facial hair, why i couldn't get taller. and eventually, i opened up to him about that, and he gave me a whole bunch of stuff to read about gender and sexuality."

you let out a small sigh then, and you could feel daniela's eyes on you, checking for any signs of discomfort. your arm just squeezed her a little, hoping to reassure her that it was okay. "so i read all the stuff, and it kinda just clicked to me that i was trans? and i think that i really knew a few months into transitioning, when my dad called me son like he did my brother, and it just felt right? like i didn't have to be the person i felt like i was forced to be, i could just be me, and my family would love me and have my back."

daniela's hand had made its way to your chest, and after you finished talking, yours came up to hold it, bringing it to your lips gently. "is there a reason you wanted to know, dani?" you asked, glancing over at her. the way her eyes avoided yours told you the answer, but you waited, wanting her to open up in her own time.

"this morning i . . . you know i watch all your tiktoks, like a lot," she started, and you let out a little hum. she did do that, she loved seeing the things you posted. "and there was one where your shirt was off, and i thought i would get to see people drooling over you in the comments and get all cocky because you're mine, but there were a lot of people being gross." it didn't take you any time to realize what she meant, and you just nodded a little.

"yeah, that happens all the time baby," you told her softly. she huffed then, arms tightening around you once again. "well it's bullshit, and i don't like it ," she grumbled, and you couldn't help the little laugh that escaped you. "i don't like it either princess, but it's there. it's always gonna be there, in some way or another. there's always going to be some asshole who wants to hurt people, but just because they try, that doesn't mean that they do get to hurt me. like, i'm comfortable in my own skin, and i'm doing what i love, surrounded by the people i love, and i have the most perfect girl anyone could ever ask for as my girlfriend. some losers on the internet aren't going to ruin my day by being dicks in my comments."

she was quiet for a moment after, and you simply let your fingers begin running through her hair once again. eventually though, her hand came up, tilting yours to the side to press a soft kiss against your lips. you kissed her back in an instant, lingering as long as she'd let you, but she pulled away much too soon.

"you can't ever change, okay?" she said, hand still on your cheek. "because if you change, they win, and then i'd have to beat them up. and i don't really want to go to jail, but i will." you laughed before you could stop it, and she quickly joined you, pulling you closer to her. you wrapped your arms around her completely then, rolling the two of you over so you were hovering over her. she moved with you, and once she was flat on her back, she looked up at you with such devotion in her eyes that your breath caught in your throat.

your fingers came up then, brushing her hair behind her ear gently as you looked at her. "i won't let them win, i promise. because if you do go to jail over me, i'd lose sophia's approval. and i really like being allowed over, because then i get to do this." and she seemed to read your mind because hands were cupping your face as you leaned down, pressing your lips against hers gently.

#katseye.#daniela.

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plaidpajamallama · 2 days ago

Text

(You scared me) RHEA RIPLEY X JEY USO

Chapter 22

_________________________________________________

Jey was getting ready to head to his mom's for Christmas. He was putting some gel in his hair, trying to make it do what he wanted.

He was in need of a haircut, but he got busy, so it was a little longer than his liking, but it was going to have to work.

He cursed as he noticed Jimmy calling him.

Wiping one of his hands off on a towel before answering it Sup, uce? What do you want?

Naomi said you were coming, he said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Yeah, I’m going to be there; you know Ma would kill me if I didn’t. He chuckled. Plus, I got to talk to Roman.

He let out a sigh. He didn’t want to, but he had to; things were getting more serious with Rhea. He needed to tell him.

He heard him and Naomi talking; he rolled his eyes. He should have known she was closer by.

You’re gonna tell him? Naomi said

Yeah, so if I just disappear tonight, you know what happened.

Well, we’re here if you need us. Yeah, Jimmy spoke up. If you need me, come find me, alright, Uce?

He nodded his head. Alright, Uce, I’ll see y’all there.

Ok, you bring something? Naomi asked

He sucked his teeth. I'm bringing myself

She laughed. Ok, we see you there. Love you.

Love you too, bye.

He took a look in the mirror, messing with his hair one last time before taking a step back.

He had on a black shirt pulled tight to his muscles and a pair of gray sweatpants sitting at his hips. He walked over to the drawer where he kept his chains, grabbing the one he usually picked. He threw on his white forces before walking out of the bathroom into his bedroom.

He grabbed his keys and sunglasses off the dresser before he walked out of the house.

As he drove, his mind was racing; he felt his palms getting sweaty at the thought of what was going to happen. He already wasn’t excited to go, but his mama had called him earlier this week telling him his ass better show up, and she didn’t care about the drama, so he dragged his ass out of the house to make her happy.

Luckily, his relationship with Roman and Jim got better these past months, so there shouldn’t be much of a problem like the years before.

These moments meant a lot to her, so he was going to be on his best behavior even if it would pain him to do so.

As he pulled up in her neighborhood, he felt his mouth get dry. He was anxious; he didn’t want to ruin this day for his mama. He wasn’t sure how Roman would take it; he didn’t want to admit it to anybody, but he was a little scared. He knew how Roman could get, how low he would go to get what he wanted. He didn’t like thinking about Roman like that, but he couldn’t deny it.

He wanted to believe he had changed, that he saw him as a man and not the same person he could push around.

He had grown, and he hoped Roman had too.

All the cars parked in the street let him know he was close to her house.

He parked his car in the driveway, just taking a moment to gather himself before opening his door. He saw eyes peeking through the windows as he walked up the driveway to the porch. He knocked on the door with a smile on his face.

The door immediately opened, and his mom stood there.

You're finally here! I have so much for you to do, she said, pulling him inside.

Damn I just got here, ma.

She hit him on the arm as he stepped inside.

Oh, I’m sorry, he said, rubbing his arm. What do you want me to do, ma?

Come with me to the kitchen. I need your help. She said, walking towards the kitchen, He followed behind her, dragging his feet.

After a couple of hours, he managed to make his way outside on the back porch, finding a place to hide. Everybody else was inside; he just needed a minute. He didn’t come home often, so when he did, his mom had him doing the most. He just needed a minute.

He sat down on the top step, running a hand over his face. The sun was starting to set, bringing a chill into the air.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket; there were a couple of missed texts from Rhea.

He couldn’t help but smile; she was checking in on him, seeing what he was doing.

He texted her back, apologizing for missing her text.

What are you doing out here, uce? Roman said, walking up behind him.

Umm, nothing, just needed a sec, he said, pulling his phone back in his pocket.

He sat down next to him. So, um, he cleared his throat. How have you been?

Good, good, finally back, he chuckled, turning to him. You?

I've been good, working hard, you know, he said, sitting back against the steps.

Yeah, I know he looked down at the steps beneath his feet, letting out a sigh.

Hey, Uce, He looked back towards him.

What’s up? He said, looking back at him.

He sucked in a breath. I’m dating someone.

As soon as those words left his mouth, his mouth turned dry and his hands got clammy.

He nodded his head. Mmm, you must really like her then, huh, if you're telling me about it, he chuckled.

Yeah, I do, he said, feeling his face get a little warm. She’s great, like really great, he said with a big grin on his face.

So do I know her?

He ran a hand through his hair. Yeah, she, um, works with us.

He had a surprised look on his face. Really, who?

He let out an awkward chuckle, rubbing his hands together. Yeah, uh, he licked his lips. Shit, okay, okay, he said to himself, trying to calm down.

His heart was beating fast, like it was going to beat out of his chest, his palms shiny with sweat. His mind raced trying to find the right words.

It’s Rhea.

His breath got caught in his throat as those words left his mouth; his leg began to bounce.

As in Ripley Rhea Ripley? he said with a curious look

Yeah, yeah, he stood up, standing next to a wooden column, rubbing his chin, his mind running a mile a minute.

Roman stayed seated, raising his eyebrows, his tongue running against his teeth. You good? He said, sounding sincere but still in his same condescending manner,

He sucked his teeth. Yeah, I’m good. You good?He shot back in the same way Roman had.

He nodded his head. I’m fine, he smiled. I don’t care what you do or who you do. Jey, as long as you're there when I need you and focused, I could care less, he said callously.

He scoffed, shaking his head. Yeah, I don’t know why I thought your ass would give a shit.

He just looked at him with his same stupid scowl.

Tapping his foot impatiently like he was waiting for him to say more

He chuckled to himself. Fuck you, Uce, he said, beginning to walk away.

Stop! His voice was dominant, cutting through the thoughts running through his mind.

He begrudgingly stopped; he didn’t know why he just did.

What!? he said, irritated

He didn’t say anything he didn’t have to; he knew the look on Roman’s face told him everything.

He shook his head. Yeah, I’ll still fucking be there. He said before walking back into the house

The sound of music and laughter flooded his ears, reminding him why he went outside in the first place.

He made his way to the kitchen, hoping nobody would be in there trying to avoid his family so he could leave; he was over it.

He walked into the kitchen, seeing their mom standing there boxing up some leftovers.

What are you doing, dear? She said, looking up at him.

Nothing, just, uh, she had a look on her face that told him that she already knew he was lying.

He looked down at the floor, avoiding her gaze.

He heard her footsteps getting closer; she tilted his head up, looking at her.

What happened, dear? She said gently.

He shook his head. Nothing is everything fine, ma.

Her gaze softened as she put both her hands on his shoulders.

I’m fine, Ma. I just got to get going; we got the holiday tour coming up, and I still haven’t packed yet, so

Do I need to talk to somebody, baby?

No, it’s fine, ma. Don’t worry; I just got some stuff I got to do.

Alright, she said skeptically, at least take some food with you.

She pulled away from him, walking back over to the takeout boxes.

Now I’ll never say no to your food.

She handed him two boxes on top of each other.

Make sure you call me when you get home, ok?

I will. He took the boxes from her.I love you, he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Love you too.

_________________________________________________

He sat down on the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands. Damn it! He said, slamming his hand down on the edge of the bed,

Why did he think he would care? He never cared about anything other than himself.

But he couldn’t stop wishing that he did. What he felt for Rhea was different than anything he had felt with any woman.

He didn’t know what it was, but she was different. She got him in a way his other girlfriend couldn’t.

They never understood the relationship he had with his family; they didn’t get the abuse he had been through, how he could get through all that and stick around; they didn’t get it.

Some didn’t even believe it, how a fucking professional wrestler could get pushed around.

He sat back on the bed, his hands falling beside his head.

But Rhea understood the pain he had gone through, what he’s still going through, and he understood her.

They just got each other in a way most people didn’t. They had both been hurt by the people they trusted most.

He never intended to fall in love with her; he was just trying to be a good friend, be there for her, but he couldn’t help but love her. She was amazing and beautiful and...

He couldn’t think of another word to describe her; she was too amazing to put into words.

And he just wanted to show the people he loved just how great she was.

But Roman didn’t care; he was arrogant like always. As long as he could remember, he had been arrogant. He thought he could change, but he guessed that he was asking for too much.

His phone rang over on the dresser. He pulled his body off the bed, grabbing it.

Rhea sat in her bed. She finally got a break from her family. She loved that they were here, but she wanted to check in on Jey just for a moment.

Her phone rang in her hand with Jey’s name across the top of the screen with a blue heart.

It rang for a minute before he answered.

Hey, babygirl, How’s your night going?

Good I just got a minute away from my family, and I wanted to see how you were doing.

I'm good. It was cool, he said, falling back on his bed.

You talk to Roman? She asked, watching the smile on his face fall a bit, and an irritated look came across his face.

Yeah, I talked to him.

She could tell it didn’t go as well as he hoped, but his face You okay, baby?

He let out a sigh. Yeah, I’m good. He pushed his hair back out of his face. It’s just been a long day, and I still have to pack.

She could hear and see the tiredness in his voice and face. How did everything go with Roman?

He smacked his lips. It was what I expected; he didn’t care, so that’s good to know. I went through all that bullshit just for him not to give a fuck. He said, his voice dipping in frustration, his gaze drifting away from hers, finding something else to look at.

She could hear his foot tapping against the floor through the phone. She lay down against all her pillows, propping her up. Baby, she said softly, getting his attention.

Yeah, what’s up? He said, looking back at her,

I’m here if you need me, okay?

I know I’m just tired.

Alright then, I’ll let you go, and I’ll see you soon. Love you.

Love you too, babygirl. He hung up, letting his phone drop on the bed, letting out a sigh, running a hand over his face. Shit, he sat up, looking over at his suitcase on the floor.

He knew he should get up and pack his shit, but he didn’t want to. He was done with this day; he just wanted to sleep. He threw off his shirt, and crawling under the covers,

He tried to find sleep, but his mind wouldn’t stop; it just kept running. Just think about Roman; it just pissed him off.

He couldn’t believe he was stressing about it if he didn’t even give it a second thought.

Maybe he already knew and that’s why he didn’t care. Given that the wiseman was back, he wouldn’t put it past him to tell Roman about what he was up to on Raw while they were gone.

The thought of them keeping tabs on him while he was gone gave him a bad feeling, though.

He rolled over onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. God, he didn’t know why it bothered him so much that he didn’t care.

He had never really cared about the woman he dated; it didn’t befit him, so why would he

But this was different. there was this feeling in the pit of his stomach

It almost hurt that Roman didn’t care. He wanted him to; he just wanted them to get along. He was so fucking tired of all the people he loved fighting. He just wanted them to get along.

Everyone else loved Rhea; she got along great with Jim, Naomi, and Sami, but Roman didn’t give a fuck.

He just just……wanted his approval.

he drove off it He hated to say it; he never would out loud, but he needed it.

when he said he was proud of him, deep down he knew it was bullshit, but it still meant everything to him, and he hated that it was

He hated that he needed to be told he was good to be good.

It was that thing you know when you do good, but you still need that one person to tell you you're good, or it doesn’t count.

And that one person was Roman; he brought his hands up to his face.

He thought he hoped that when he left the bloodline, all of his issues would leave too, but then it wouldn’t be called trauma now, would it?

He let out a deep sigh, running a hand down his face, letting it fall on his chest.

He had to wake up even earlier now since he didn’t pack his shit; he needed to sleep, but he just kept getting lost in his thoughts.

_________________________________________________

Happy Christmas everybody I decided to give you all a gift! I hope you like it 🖤

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