#i'm so sorry i'll try to be a better writer

[whentheresidentsareevil]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by the lovely @eveningspirit and @thewildballyntynesgrow! and oh boy have I got a lot of WIPs to go over!

do no harm

this one already has 3 chapters on ao3 and it's about Frank's back injury being worse than he thought and Robby helping him before he turns to drugs

“I’m fine!” He yelled. Dr. Robby’s eyes widened but Frank couldn’t stand to have the man look at him like that. “I was handling it! I could have handled it!” He fought to sit up again, this time powering through the pain. Robby was calling his name, trying to get him to relax, to lay back down, but it only fueled his anger and determination. “I know you think I’m weak now, but I was working on it! I was still able to work! Don’t treat me like I’m sick! Don’t-”

midnight train

This has 2 chapters on ao3 and its Frank having the worst commute of his entire life lol

This was the first concrete evidence that Langdon really was there on the train. While he knew his resident was at the site of this tragedy, seeing proof was a whole different beast. He could no longer try to convince himself that it happened to be another doctor named Langdon on the blue line at the same time Frank would be. There was no denying it now. Robby forced himself to look away.

Now its time for unpublished WIPs!!! I have like 7 so I'll just do the ones I'm furthest along in

The Shoulder One (untitled)

The one where Frank dislocates his shoulder

Frank moved his head to get a better look and oh. His shoulder was definitely not supposed to be there. He felt a rush of dizziness and nausea hit him. He let his head thunk against the floor and let out another groan.  “Oh I don't feel good.” Robby was crouching above his head and let out a sarcastic laugh which Frank did not appreciate.

The Seizure One (untitled)

The one where Frank has a seizure (exists in a world without the drug diversion)

Everyone waited with baited breath for something to happen. Langdon was still seizing, lips turning blue from lack of adequate air flow. Mel felt dread begin to descend in her chest. As the seconds passed with no change, Robby spoke. “If he doesn’t respond in the next minute, we’re moving him to a room. Dr. Mohan, please draw up some more diazepam and also a dose of Keppra please. Dana, what’s open?”

The Baclofen Pump One (untitled)

This one is where Frank has a partial spinal cord injury and has a device implanted called a baclofen pump. It's on the stomach and has a catheter that goes into the spinal cord to deliver muscle relaxant directly. The pump malfunctions and accidentally gives Frank too much medication

“Hey SLEEPY HEAD!” Frank jolted upright, looking around frantically. Abbot was staring at him from across the nurses’ station. He had a vaguely amused yet unimpressed expression. “Let’s not be falling asleep, man. It’s morning time!” Frank shook his head to try and wake himself up but found his eyes closing anyway. He tried to pick his head up, but it felt like a bowling ball. His head made contact with the keyboard. “Langdon?” Abbot’s voice sounded a million miles away.

Alright, those are the biggest WIPs I have! Sorry this is so long omg. If you've got this far, thank you so much!!! I've got several others but I haven't gotten them as fleshed out and I didn't want this to be even longer lol

tagging some moots, not sure if all are writers or if they've already been tagged, but viola @ahs0katan, @aflynnwriter, @honorarybimbo, @robbyrobinavitch @drfranklangdon

Also, anyone who wants to do it! If you see my post, please tag me so I can look at y'alls WIPs!!! so good

[siennaii]

"hellcat" ch.1 lingering ghosts

Arthur Morgan x female OC.

"In which he survives. In which they meet again and again and again. In which starcrossed lovers find redemption in a twisted way."

hi! just wanted to let you know that english isn't my first language, there might be quite a few mistakes. ♥ whole story is already planned, i've got a few chapters ready! tysm for reading this if you are :( ♥ 

_ _ _ _

Strawberry, 1901.

The decrepit saloon was louder than usual, its worn wooden floor groaning under every step, every shifting weight. The man, seated at the far end of the bar with a dry gin in hand, scanned the room as if his life depended on it; the faint jingle of spurs barely perceptible to the untrained ear. He drank. He drank, and his shoulders remained tense. Paused. Scanned again—his gaze straight, sharp, unyielding... worn.

With a slow movement, he tilted his hat up. The saloon doors swung open, creaking, exhausted from a lifetime of fights and liquor, of sin and sweat-soaked bodies pressed against its curve. Thick fingers tapped against the bar—one... two... three. Oh my darlin', oh my darlin'... played faintly in the background. The piano was too sharp, out of tune.

The door swung open again. Another creak that made him clench his teeth; blue eyes snapped toward the source of light—and widened. He froze.

"Hellcat."

His voice carried just enough to make the woman stepping inside take notice. She tilted her head, amber eyes adjusting to the dim saloon light, and then—finally—lips, painted in hastily applied red, stretched into a smile he hadn't seen in years.

"Thought you were layin' low, same as me." He grunted, his broad frame pushing against the too-small barstool, making it groan.

"You weren't thinkin' nothin' at all, Morgan.."

Arthur's fingers drummed against the counter—dry, restless. Rose's voice cut through the murmurs of the saloon, sharp as the knife she used to skin her rabbit at sundown, dry as lips left too long under the desert sun, parched for water.

"I just didn't expect to see you here. Not... after all this time."

He swallowed. His voice was rough but steady—never wavering. A moth landed near his glass; he crushed it without a second thought. A dry chuckle rasped past cracked lips.

He barely looked at her.

The man's eyes, sharp as a wolf on the hunt, flickered down to the twin revolvers at her hips—the same damn ones she'd worn the night she up and disappeared. No note. No warning. Just gone. His gaze lifted again, blue locking onto amber.

"Still carryin' them old relics like a trophy?"

The question weighed heavy in his mouth, but rolled off hers like nothin' at all. He thought of that night, the way she'd walked away—no farewells, no second thoughts—leaving the gang, the camp, him behind. She thought of those pistols as nothing more than proof of her will, her strength.

She slid onto the barstool beside him, her steps smooth, blending into the saloon's hum of voices and clinking glasses. It was true—she'd left. Just like that. But she'd seen through Dutch's madness long before the others, a slip of a woman who never had much patience for prophets. She ordered a whiskey. The glass landed beside his gin, close enough that their hands almost brushed—just enough to feel the warmth of the other. She cleared her throat, long black hair cascading down her back, catching on the high chair. She reeked of confidence. Arrogant. Untouchable.

Arthur's gaze drifted past her, locking onto two men arguing near the back. Any excuse to not look at her. A few years ago, he'd hated her for leaving—traitor, slippin' away in the dead of night without a damn word. But after Dutch's madness, after everything... he reckoned she'd been the only sane one all along.

"Surprised you ain't locked up yet. Or hangin' from a rope." Her voice was smooth, lazy, whiskey glass now smudged with red lipstick. "Heard 'bout Blackwater, and I was states away."

Arthur's dry thumb ran over the worn leather of his satchel, the creases old, familiar. He smirked.

"Lawmen these days couldn't track a damn mangy coyote if it dropped dead in front of 'em."

She burst out laughing—a sharp, crystalline sound that cut through the saloon noise, lodged itself in his ears. She had that way about her, always had. Not 'cause of a skirt swapped for pants, not 'cause of the fine shirt that probably cost more than half the town made in a month. No, it was the way she carried herself. That hungry stare. That silk-spun hair. That something sharp, teasing, always caught on the curve of her lips.

"Guessin' you're here for the bounty on those three ex-Pinkertons turned raiders, Morgan." She knew. Of course she knew. She cast him a glance from the corner of her eye, slow and searing, and he went rigid, knocking back the rest of his gin in one hard swallow.

"They're holed up in an abandoned mine." Arthur's worn boot nudged her chair under the bar, the ghost of a smirk playing at the edge of his mouth. "You left before Dutch lost his damn mind. Smart." The glass hit the counter with a dull thud—too rough, but that was the only way he knew how. His voice dropped, edged like a blade. "Fifty-fifty on the bounty. That is, if you ain't gone soft after all these years."

She arched a brow, nostril flaring just slightly. Arthur's jaw tensed as he watched her, throat bobbing with a slow swallow. He bit his tongue, waited. Then, finally, she gave a small nod. Wordless, he reached into his satchel, fishing out a half-crumpled bounty poster, nearly lost beneath the junk he carried. No care in his movements, he flattened it out with a rough hand and shoved it toward her, knocking against the half-full whiskey glass, smudged with red lipstick stains he couldn't bring himself to look at without sneering.

"There's dynamite rigged up 'round that mine," he muttered, voice dry as gunpowder. "Better watch that pretty little face of yours. I ain't scrapin' up pieces of you just to give you a proper grave."

She tilted her head, sizing him up, before a slow smirk unfurled across her lips. "Fifty-fifty and your hat."

"Deal."

Arthur pushed himself to his feet, but before he could move, Rose swiped his hat clean off his head and settled it onto her own. The old thing, cracked and worn with time, sat like a damn crown against her dark hair. His fingers twitched, curled into a fist. He tossed a coin onto the counter, enough to cover both their drinks. "Got a shitty room above the saloon. Meet me 'fore sundown."

She didn't answer, just adjusted the brim of his hat like she'd been born wearing it. He exhaled sharply, muttering a curse under his breath, too low to be heard over the saloon's din. Oh My Darling wheezed from the out-of-tune piano.

"Shoulda known you'd still be a damn thief."

He walked off, shoving a man too drunk for midday against the railing, the wood groaning under the sudden weight. His fingers brushed over the twin revolvers strapped to his belt before he climbed the stairs back to his room. Just a few hours of rest before another damn job. He could feel those honey-colored eyes burning into his back as he left, but he didn't turn around. Didn't say a thing.

Rose and Arthur had never been close, not when she was still running with the gang. Maybe they'd talked once or twice by a campfire, ridden out together on a few lousy jobs. Maybe, in passing, she'd told him about her dreams, her dime novels filled with love and tragedy. Maybe he'd told her about Mary, voice rough, gaze lingering just a little too long. Maybe, one night, they'd fucked in some run-down saloon after a few too many glasses of whiskey, and for a fleeting moment, he'd felt alive again, his fingers burning against soft skin. Maybe he'd started bringing back extra cans of peaches, just in case. Maybe he'd caught himself, like a fool, sketching the sharp lines of her face in the pages of his journal.

Maybe.

But they were never close. And she still left.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I'm back in the Tigers cage again.

(You too can join in on throwing a Rat Of A Man into a Tiger cage by reading Tiger Tiger)

[trusweethrt]

— ୨ৎ sleepover with secret bf!rafe

authors note: i got a request for this a few weeks ago but the ask deleted itself so I'm so sorry to whoever sent that! and i'm trying to get out of my writers block so enjoy...whatever this is. (not sure how I feel about this) not proofread!! content warnings: contains smut, 18+

“come over? just for a little bit?” rafe asked as he looked at you through the facetime camera. it's been a rough day for him and you were really the only person he wanted to see right now. but it was past midnight and you weren't supposed to be out of the house around this time, let alone going to his house.

you've been told by your parents to stay away from him—countless times, actually. rafe knew he had some...things to work on, but in his mind, he wasn't that bad. at least towards you. “dunno rafe...'m already in trouble for skipping school yesterday.” you frown, tapping your manicured finger on the side of your phone. rafe sighed, sitting up against his headboard “please? it'll be quick. i'll sneak ya in and out.”

you were hesitating and that's something rafe could see clearly, but he was desperate. you were one of the only people he actually cared about these days and he didn't want to be alone right now, especially not at night.

“please..? you're the only person i want to see right now.” he pleaded, almost begging in a way. he was never one to beg, but it was the only thing he could think of that could convince you to come.

you thought it over as you bit the inside of your cheek. you knew how it would end if your parents found out you snuck out of your house. “isn't sarah home though?” rafe was silent for a moment, his hand running through his hair “no...she's out. won't be home 'til morning” he murmured. that was one less obstacle so it was one good thing. but you still weren't sure. rafe was your boyfriend and you cared about him, but sneaking out wasn't the best idea right now. “but my parents said-”

“i know sweetheart and i'm not tryna get you in trouble, but i swear it'll be like thirty minutes.” he cut you off, his tone almost desperate. you bit your lip as you leaned back against your headboard. “rafe...” you trailed off with a sigh. you weren't saying no right away, but you weren't saying yes either. it was clear you were conflicted as you hesitated before adding, “okay, fine. but just for thirty minutes. not a second longer.”

rafe's face lit up as he heard you agree. he knew he could be convincing if he wanted to and he was so glad it worked this time. “thank you baby, be outside waiting. i'll come get you.” with that, he ended the facetime, standing from his bed as he grabbed a jacket and his keys. it didn't take long for you to change into some shorts and a hoodie and put your shoes on. you carefully crept out of your room and out into the livingroom, pausing to listen for any noises. once you were sure your parents were asleep, you opened up the front door and slipped outside, shutting the door quietly behind you. by the time you were out of your house, rafe was already parked outside.

rafe was leaning against the door of his car as he waited for you. he heard the door open and shut, looking up and seeing you walking towards him. he could see you were nervous, but it didn't stop him from pulling you into a tight hug. “hey,” he greeted, his voice tired but he felt better with you in his arms. you returned his hug, leaning into the embrace. “hey...” you murmured back, your tone almost equally as tired. you could feel the exhaustion in him as he hugged you and you felt the need to ask, “you okay?”

rafe let out a sigh against your shoulder, giving you a light squeeze before leaning back “not really...” he mumbled, releasing his hold on you reluctantly. he opened the passenger side door for you, waiting until you got in before shutting the door and walking around to get into the driver's side.

you got into his car, leaning back in the seat as you looked over him. you could tell something was bothering him by the look on his face and his tone of voice. it's been a long time since he sounded that exhausted. “...rough day?”

rafe ran a hand over his face, looking over to you wearily “rough life.” he mumbled, starting up the car as he pulled out from the curb. “seatbelt.” you hummed quietly as you reached out to grab the seatbelt, buckling yourself in. you decided not to ask more about what exactly was bothering him; in time, he'd probably talk about it.

the car ride was silent as rafe drove back to his house. you didn't mind though, figuring that he needed the silence in order to calm his head for a bit. a few moments passed before he parked in his driveway, unlocking the doors and getting out. he came around the side and opened your door for you, offering his hand to help you out of the car.

you slipped your hand into his, letting him help you out of the car. walking through his yard, he quietly unlocked his front door and let you in first. “wheezie's home so we're gonna have to be quiet” he said as he shut the door behind him, locking it again.

you followed him inside “gotcha” you whispered as you looked around. “is she awake? i don't wanna be the reason she doesn't sleep.”

“she's asleep.” he mumbled, nodding towards the stairwell. “come on..” he took your hand again, quietly leading you upstairs to his bedroom. once inside, he closed the door and locked it before turning on his bedside lamp and walking over to his bed.

you followed him to his bed, crawling onto it and moving to lay back against the pillows. you could still see the exhaustion in his body as he laid down next to you, his head resting against your shoulder as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “wanna talk about anything...?” rafe was silent for a moment, almost as if he was thinking about your question. he really didn't wanna talk about anything at all. all he wanted was to lay here with you, which he thought to himself as he shook his head. “nah”

you nodded once he answered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you closed your eyes. you could tell he didn't want to talk and you were okay with that. you both laid there in comfortable silence, no sounds besides the sound of your breathing and the occasional passing of a car outside. “can i do anything to help?”

it felt good to lay here with you. it was the only real peace he's felt in weeks and it helped calm him a little. when you spoke again, he lifted his head to look at you, his tired eyes meeting yours.

he moved a bit closer to you, his arm around your waist tightening as his head rested on your chest. “this is more than enough for me, sweetheart” he murmured, his fingers brushing against your side. “i do have a request though”

you looked down at him, your fingers lightly running through his hair as you waited for him to speak. you could tell he was still thinking about something and you waited patiently before finally speaking, “what is it?” rafe's eyes closed as your fingers ran through his hair. he loved when you did that and it relaxed him greatly

he was still silent for a few more moments before finally speaking. “i need to relieve some stress.” he murmured, his fingers gently brushing against your waist once more before suddenly resting right above the drawstring of your shorts.

────୨ৎ────

“a-ah shit, rafe” your hands clench by your sides as rafe glides his tip between your drenched folds, looking down at you with this tongue between his teeth. “mmh...this wet already, darling? barely even touched ya yet.” rafe hummed, smirking down at you. all you can do is nod and let out a whimper as he tapped his cock against your cunt. “nuh-uh, words. none of that whimpering shit”

you were already a stuttering, whimpering mess as he ran his fingers over your clit. you needed more from him, wanted to feel more of him, but you knew that he wasn't going to give that to you until you answered.

you let out a shaky breath as you looked up at him, eyes wide. “yes!” you quickly whimpered, “been thinking about it all night. please, please rafe...” you whimpered, your hips bucking up in an attempt to get more from him. “i know baby, i know” rafe murmured, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he teased your clit with his thumb again “been so long since you've had this cock, yeah?”

you nodded rapidly, eyes pleading him to do something, anything. you wanted him so badly and you could tell he was just teasing, which was driving you absolutely insane. “rafe..." you murmured, your voice trembling a little. rafe chuckled softly, shaking his head “come on. don't get all shy with me now. tell me what you want” he said with a smirk, his fingers still moving over your clit, barely applying pressure. he could feel you shaking beneath him, which encouraged him to tease you a little more. “tsk tsk i want an answer. i know you know how to talk, baby. i just wanna hear your pretty little voice say it.”

you swallowed hard as you looked up at him from under your lashes; he looked so damn proud of himself. you were almost positive he got off on teasing you like this, and the last thing you wanted to do was give him that satisfaction. but your patience was wearing thin and you were getting desperate. you just wanted him to touch you already, but he was always so stubborn. you ran your tongue over your bottom lip as you met his gaze again, your voice shaking a little as you finally spoke up, “n-need you rafe…please...”

“mmh, that's my good girl. i knew you could do it baby.” rafe murmured, finally pushing his cock into your aching hole, causing both of you to let out simultaneous moans. “a-ah fuck” you gasp, gripping onto his biceps as he pushes all the way in, making you groan at the feeling, his cock slowly slipping all the way down, filling you to the hilt, “so fuckin' tight” he groans under his breath at the feeling of your narrow pussy engulfing his member.

you whimper as he remains motionless, denying you the much needed friction. “mmh what do we say after i give you something, baby?”

you could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he murmured the question into your ear. he knew what he was doing. he knew exactly how to get you to say what he wanted you to say, knowing how well he filled you up and how he wasn't moving. you moaned quietly, hands moving to grip onto his back as you looked up at him with watery eyes, “thank you.”

rafe hummed and nodded against your neck, lightly kissing just under your ear as he lifted his head, “good girl.” he said “you're welcome, my love. anytime.”

he finally pulled his hips back a little, thrusting back into you “you feel so damn good, baby.” he breathed before beginning to thrust into you harder, repeatedly hitting your cervix deliciously “been too long without having you.” he murmured, his hand gripping onto the back of your thigh, lifting your leg up over his shoulder. the change of position caused his cock to slide even deeper, making you gasp.

you whimpered at the feeling of him hitting your sweet spot, unable to speak clearly “oh...oh g-god rafe” you tried, your eyes already shut as you tried to move your hips in time with his. he could feel your nails digging into his shoulders, leaving red indents. “look at me.” he murmured in your ear, his hand reaching down to grab your chin, turning your face towards his “look at me while i'm fucking you, sweetheart. ” your mind goes a little blank for a moment when he says that, only able to focus on the feeling of him inside you. it takes a few seconds before you manage to open your eyes again, meeting his gaze. rafe's eyes are focused on you, a small smirk on his lips as he sees you staring “there you are.” he hums, biting down on his lip once he feels you start to clench around him “shit, you gonna cum already?”

“yeah...mmh, so close ray.” you moan, struggling to keep your eyes on him as his hand reaches to press his thumb against your clit, rubbing tight circles. “so fast, sweetheart?” rafe murmured with a smirk “been that long, huh? gonna make a mess all over my cock already?” you don't even have time to respond before your orgasm hits you hard, your body shaking as the coil in your stomach snapped. eyes squeezed shut, walls clenching around his twitching shaft. the way your pussy cinched around him is all rafe needed to go over the edge, spilling his seed deep inside you.

“mmh ray?” you murmur, looking up at him with your glossy eyes. “hm?”

“think 'm gonna stay here tonight.”

taglist: @bunbun-3 @drewscoquette @untitled10351 @rafesweetie @meetmebehindthemallrafe @supercutelovergirl

© anqelrafe

[lady-of-endless]

Front Man/Hwang In-ho (player 001) x player!reader headcanons (season 2)

Author's Note: This season cured my writer's block. I'm sorry but I'm down bad for this red flag. I hope you'll enjoy it! Click here for a masterlist because there's more to come.

- He infiltrated the game either to make sure everything goes accordingly, either for a sick wish to mess with the players because he's empty inside (but not for long), or both.

- Unfortunately for "player 001", his charm and manipulation are obvious to you and you're not that pleased to see him getting close to the team you're in. Gi-hun (player 456) team. What could you do? Manipulate the manipulator.

- A game within a game, a calculated and dangerous play. In-ho senses and accepts this indirect challenge from you. He's interested, he feels excitement once again after such a long time.

- However, that's not his priority. He will push away his aroused interest to keep his duties as the Frontman and keep the game going despite Gi-hun's tries to end it.

- But one day, he noticed your mask falling for a moment, a crack in the role you played with him and that got him hooked again. He wondered what it took to break through that facade of yours and see the real you.

- There's a thrilling dance of fake smiles and fascination between you two that no one else sees. Just two capable, trustworthy, charming players.

- In-ho has a very cold but intense gaze, especially when he's shamelessly admiring you. However, you can't tell if he's admiring you or scheming against you.

- When your glass is full, you come up with a plan to corner him and confront him about his intentions with the team, without alarming the others. The plan was flawless in theory. In-ho sensed that something was up from the moment you asked him to join you under the bed bunks for better safety during the night. He complied out of curiosity, with a smirk on his lips. Every plan that's perfect in theory, it's never perfect in practice. The closeness, the intimacy, the tension, and the pent-up frustration all lead to something else entirely. Your planned interrogation switched to pure instincts and denied feelings.

(If you like this idea, let me know, I'll write a one shot)

- Since that night, something has shifted in your dynamic. During the games, it seems that he's trying to... protect you? It was clear to you during the mingle game when he was dragging you forcefully with him no matter the number the speakers announced. You didn't question it, you just followed him. You didn't have a choice; his grip and determination were too strong. God have mercy on those who try to attack you to get inside the room with him. You already saw his impeccable fighting skills so it doesn't surprise you when you see him in action. However, it's shocking when he gets to even drastic measures for you (like eliminating other players, we've seen it).

- In-ho is guilty of many things and one of them is also jealousy. He's subtle with it though.

- There's something unsaid between you two. He doesn't know if it's attachment or not, thinking that he might not be able to feel that again. Especially for you. But he's wrong, and he sees that clearly when, during a risky game, you almost got eliminated. He was about to lose it; his fingers were digging into your skin when he embraced you to "congratulate you." It was more than that. There was something desperate in the way he held him against you and you could feel that.

- At night, after that incident, he tells you his reason for participating in the game. Even though you can't decide if he tells the truth or not, you can see his expression getting vulnerable and his eyes watery nonetheless.

- Since then, whenever he stares at you, he's thinking of a way to take you away from this mess, next to him. He also thinks of ordering the guards secretly, to make some circumstances in your favor during the next games.

[alienzil]

Okay so I saw this post and you know the types of fics where adult Danny moves to Gotham and winds up emotionally adopting one or more of bat kids or accidentally coparenting with Bruce (with or without a relationship between them)? I had the thought, what if Danny parented the bat kids but he started doing it out of spite?

Like, Danny moves to Gotham and runs into Batman and Robin one night while out for a late night flight and drops down to the rooftop to say hi.

Bruce sees this 5'6" twink that looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over and is so obviously new in town and thinks Gotham is going to eat him alive, he needs to leave before he gets killed.

Batman: Looming menacingly and in his deepest scariest Batman voice, "Leave. Metas aren't allowed in Gotham."

Danny: Offend! Excuse?! Who does this guy think he is?! 😡 Danny was trying to be polite here! "First of all, I'm not a meta. Second of all, rude much?!"

Batman: Does scariest bat glare. "Leave." Swoops off into the night.

Robin (Damian): "My father is correct. You should leave the city for your own safety."

Danny sees this tiny vigilante child with fierce expression and a sword and is just like awww, so cute! 😍 Then he noticed Robin had a small cut on his arm and his inner gremlin activates. If the rude flying furry can't take care of his own kid properly, Danny will do it better!

He bandages up Damian's arm, gives him a cookie and teaches him a neat sword trick before sending him on his way with a hug telling him he needs his sleep.

Danny goes out of his way to run into the bat kids and be the absolute best dad.

He takes Nightwing flying and throws him in the air so Nightwing can do all the fanciest acrobatic tricks.

He tracks down Red Hood and starts a book club with him (Danny may or may not have used his connection with Ghost Writer to get ahold of some rare books).

He eats waffles with Spoiler and trys out weird topping combinations that make them both make faces and laugh.

He makes new gadgets for Red Robin but carefully breaks them just a little bit and takes them to the teen so they can fix them together (it's enrichment!). He always insists RR keep them as a reward.

He follows Signal around during the day invisibly, making faces and doing tricks only Signal can see (he made him laugh in front of the police at a crime scene twice!).

All of the kids get his attention and love and Danny smugly thinks how Batman must be absolutely seething about his kids bonding with Danny and Batman missing out on all of it.

Danny started it out of spite but he does wind up genuinely loving the bat kids.

Batman definetly hates it when the kids are bonding with Danny and is extremely jealous (sulky Batman brooding in his cave about it).

Bruce's repeated attempts to intimidate Danny into leaving Gotham don't work and him telling his kids to stay away from Danny had zero effect (the terrible children don't listen to him at all).

So Bruce starts spending more time with the kids to compete against Danny. The bat kids love it and (little gremlins that they are) use the two of them against each other constantly.

Bruce:"Sorry Tim, I can't make it to your photography exhibit this weekend, there's a meeting with the Justice League."

Tim:"Oh that's fine... I'll just ask Danny to come." 😏

Bruce: Narrows his eyes and grits his teeth, "Actually, the Justice League needs to have contingencies in place to manage without my input. This would be a good time to test their capabilities. I'll skip the meeting and come to your exhibit."

With both of them competing to spend more time with the kids it leads to the two of them spending time with each other to be around the kids more.

After Damian catches a terrible flu bug, Danny spends an entire weekend at the manor babying him. This is when Bruce finds out Danny has known their secret identities for months and tries to get mad about it but Alfred puts his foot down, raises a judgmental eyebrow in Bruce's direction that puts a stop to that nonsense and sets up Danny with his own room in the family wing.

Eventually, Danny gets to the point where he spends most of his nights at the manor and he and Bruce consult each other on all major household decisions.

The whole family is at the manor one morning including Danny. Bruce has a meeting at WE and he and Danny are absently discussing their plans for the day at the breakfast table.

Bruce: " The meeting should take most of the morning and then I have paperwork this afternoon and a scheduled walk through on one of the new engineering projects. I probably won't be done by the time school let's out. Can you pick up Damian today?"

Danny: "That shouldn't be a problem. Would you mind swinging by the bookstore on the way home and getting my preorder? Jay and I just finished rereading the first book and we were wanting to start the second tonight before you all go on patrol. I'd rather not try to make it to the bookstore in school rush hour traffic"

Bruce: "Sure."

Stephanie watches Danny reach out and absently straighten Bruce's tie as they both get up to leave. Bruce grabs Danny's coffee thermos and hands it to him while they walk out the door.

Stephanie: "Sooo, bets on how long until they realize they're basically married?"

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Hello!✨ I'm kind of back to writing, truth is I've been wanting to write some things these past weeks however it's been impossible for me to be able to come up with something, I'm having serious writers block😭it's a bit frustrating because I love writing😭😭😭 but I'll try my best to end all the requests and hopefully fully come back!🫶🏻

This is a kind of small reaction with Barça Boys (Pedri, Gavi, Fermín and Ferran) , let me know what you guys think!✨

Slam Car Door

Pedri:

He jumped in his seat, his eyes wide as he saw you slam the door of his car

"Madre mía" (Dear god) He whispered, you opened the door to his car

"I'm so sorry" You say with your hand covering your mouth "I didn't meant to, I couldn't grab the door properly and the wind knocked it out of my hands"

"No te preocupes, amor. Ten cuidado, ¿Sí?" (Don't worry, love. Be careful, yeah?) You nod smiling

"¿Compro un kilo o dos de plátano?" (Should I buy one or two kilos of bananas?) You ask

"Dos. Uno pa' ti y el otro pa'mi" (Two. One for you and the other for me) You laugh nodding

"Got it" You went to close the door and Pedri once again jumped when you slammed the door. His mouth opened and one of his hands moved in question

"Amor" You could read his lips from the window

"It's the wind! It's the wind!" You hurriedly say opening the door once again

"Be careful, bonita. The door can break and-"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, I'll be careful" You say blowing him a kiss, closing the door.

"Y/N!" He yells when he sees you slamming the door "¡Preciosa!"

"What?" You ask giggling

"Stop doing that!"

"What am I doing?!"

"When we get home I swear I'll slam the door of our bathroom!"

"Don't you dare, Pedro González!"

Gavi:

"Any other thing you want me to buy?" You ask lifting your head up from the notes on your phone to look at your two years boyfriend

"I think that would be it"

"You sure? I don't want to forget anything"

"You can add the things we might need to do burguers"

"You want to eat burguers?" He nods smiling softly, you smile before writing down the items you'll need for the dinner "And that's it?" You look down at his hand in your thigh and played with his fingers.

"Yes I think that would be it, unless you'd like to add something at last minute"

"Probably I will" He laughs "I'll be going then" You undo the seatbelt "Hopefully in fifteen minutes, I'm back" You lean over to kiss his cheek.

"Take your time, preciosa"

He grabs his bottle of water from the cupholder and drinks from it. Only to get choked up by it when he hears the slam, his pouty face turns into his famous frown, eyes full of confusion.

"Are your parents coming tomorrow, right? Or is it next week? I'll be cooking your mom's favorite, so should I buy the ingredients now or wait until we're on a closer date?"

"They're coming next week" He confirms what you already know

"So, should I buy them later?" He nods

"Yes, tomatoes can get bad really quick so it's better that way" He nods his eyebrows furrowed. He looked so cute, you wanted to laugh.

"Perfecto, gracias" (Perfect, thanks) You close the door once again, before almost leaving you saw his eyes wide open, trying to figure out how to call you out on this. "Also, do you want me to buy the big jar of nuts?" You ask "or maybe the medium"

"Any of them it's fine" He nods "Something's wrong?"

"No, why?"

"It seems like you're mad"

"I'm not, baby. Why do you say that?" He gets quiet for a minute before shaking his head "Nothing" He whispers "Try not close the door so hard, bebé"

You look at the door before letting a small -oh- acting as if you didn't knew what was bothering him "Did I close it too hard?" He nods instantly

"Joder, si" (Fuck yeah)

"Ay, lo siento" (Sush, I'm sorry) You nod "I'll be careful" You say blowing him a kiss, he winks back at you, you smile and stopped for a few seconds before slamming the door shut.

You could only see his eyes wide open and the "Me cago en la-" he let out before you ran away while laughing, soon you heard the sound of the honk of your boyfriend's car and his yell of your name. You made sure to buy his favorite chocolate cake that day.

Fermín:

"Want me to go with you, amor?"

"Don't worry, Fer. You can stay here, I'll be back in a few minutes" You lean over to kiss his cheek twice before he moved his head and crashed his lips into yours

"Be careful" He said before giving you another kiss, you giggle

"I'll re-stock my girly things and be back in a few minutes"

"I know but still" You smile

"Te quiero mucho más" You say "Want me to bring something for you?"

"I'm so in love with you, you're too cute"

"Te quiero"

"A muffin would do"

"Got it" You got out of the car and without looking back you slammed the door, you started walking but the honk of your boyfriend's car interrupted you "What's up?"

"I think the door wasn't closed"

"Oh! Let me do it again" You slammed the door once again, a bit stronger than before "Better?" You asked and he shook his head

"Not yet" You opened it and closed it again "More" You did it once again putting all of your strenght, you winced a bit in this last one

"Now?"

"Nope"

"Fermín!"

"You were the one starting it, mi amor!"

Ferran:

"¡Ostras!" (Fuck!) "Cuidado, un poco mas y se te devuelve la puerta, preciosa" (Careful, a little more and the door will be returned to you, precious)

"I'm so sorry, Fer! I didn't meant to!"

"That you pay for my door insurance, nena"

"Ferran, stop. It wasn't that bad!"

"Que no fue tan mal? Casi me tiras la puerta en la cara!" (It wasn't that bad? You almost threw the door in my face)

"Exagerado" (Exaggerated)

"Not exaggerated, I'm just taking precautions" You roll your eyes

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Torres. I'll go" He nods

"I'll be waiting for you, beautiful" You smile and close the door once again. You looked at Ferran who simply looked at you, you tried your best to hold your laughter

"What?"

"I know what you're doing and you won't get any reaction from me!"

"What do you think I'm doing?!"

"You dislike this car and want me to buy another one, right?"

"That's not-"

"Save it. I'll do it"

"No! If you want a new car you don't have to say I influenced you"

"But you did" He said "My mind's already setting everything up"

"But I didn't! All I was doing was slamming your car door to see your reac-" You cut yourself off and Ferran's eyebrows went up lightly. You fell in his trap.

"¿Estabas tirando la puerta de mi coche?" (Were you slamming my cars door?)

"In my defense... I was trying to see your reaction and I didn't do it that hard!"

"No, ¡Un poco más y la puerta llega a mi cara!" (No, a bit more and the door gets to my face!)

"¡Mentira!" (Liar!)

"Venga, vamos" (C'mon, let's go) "I'll go with you"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

[glitzglamgunpowder-if]

"You were destined for a life better than this. A life free from violence, from bloodshed. But here you are once again, it's like you never left."

YOU were a child destined for greatness, for your name to be written into the pages of history. Whatever happened in your past didn't matter anymore. You were born with raw talent and charisma that couldn't be wasted, that people can only dream of. But your innate gift didn't mean your path would be easy. After the circus shut down, you stumbled through life delivering each performance like it was your last. You thought you've reached your peak, until a mysterious offer suddenly throws you into a life of crime.

Play as a male, female, or nonbinary performer

Customize your MC’s physical appearance, façade personality, and choose a pseudonym for them

Befriend or Romance 4 ROs

Dedicate yourself to honing your natural talent

Choose your end goal and earn the fame you have craved your entire life

How do you want the public to perceive you? To be respected, or to be feared?

Learn more about the secrets of your dark past. Will you learn how the circus fell? How you ended up here of all places?

Will you acquire the fame you deserve, or will you fade into history?

Outline of Stats/Routes!!

Alistair/Alice Delacroix - THE RIVAL

AS you adjust to your new life, you hear rumors about your fated rival. One whose mind was poisoned to despise every fiber of your being. It's no surprise they're known for their ambition, their cunning, their ruthless nature. Their path led them to inevitable darkness, but will yours?

Trope: Forbidden Romance/Enemies to Lovers

Samuel/Samantha "Sam" Kaminski - THE BOSS

YOU are an acquired talent on behalf of the current wealthy owner of the elusive Spotlight Syndicate, one of the most popular bars of its time. They're one of the few people who don't question your mysterious past, who trust you as implicitly as the air they breathe. You know deep down they have a soft spot for you, one of their greatest assets, but they're motives are...difficult to discern. But is there a possibility your relationship could go beyond transactional business?

Trope: Boss x Employee/Age Gap

Hendrik/Helena Rietveld - THE BODYGUARD

YOU don't know much about them, nor do they seem willing to give you any more information than necessary for your safety. But one thing's for sure, they're loyal to the ones they serve. And given your new...circumstances, that may be exactly what you need: someone who would travel from heaven to hell and back if their duty called for it. Will you be the first to crack the unsolvable's code?

Trope: Bodyguard Romance/Potential Grumpy x Sunshine

Jesse Lê - THE FRIEND DETECTIVE

YOU never expected to see them again after...never mind that! They stand before you now, a completely reinvented version of themself. A stranger to everyone they encounter. Will you be able to slip off the carefully curated mask they've built and heal from your past together? Or will that smoking gun be laid to rest once and for all?

Trope: Childhood Friends to Lovers -> Detective x Potential Criminal

Physical Description of the ROs!!

Despite being a frequent IF player, this is my very first time trying to create an IF myself as someone with little coding experience (I'm more of a writer if anything). I'm definitely learning as I go, and I understand this may lead to mistakes or disappointment at times, so I preemptively apologize for them. I tend to become overly ambitious, and I want to make sure I always deliver on the promises I make. I say this because some of you may have ask about certain features being implemented and I will have to say "Sorry, I don't really know how to do that yet, but I'll try and learn how!" Hopefully, this will be a fun learning experience, and you all have a fun time on here! Sincerely, Mira <3

DEMO || BETA TESTER FORM || PLAYLIST || BLUESKY

[dilf-docs]

Saturday But in Your Sunday Best

bfd!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: joel has a co-worker's wedding in las vegas. everything that can go wrong, does.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., creampie, oral (f. and m. receiving), breast play, fingering, dacryphilia, degradation kink, ANGST (as in i've suffered so will my characters. this wasn't at all what i had envisioned at first for this part), hurt/comfort, a bit of fluff (that's new), pls be nice this writer's block shot me in the foot

word count: 11,121 words

side note: sorry this took so long. between movie watching for the oscars, my other works, midterms, pedro pascal horny hours, my wattpad fic, the max fic you citizens let flop (ĉüřşę ÿoụ āĺļ), the brat taming fic that made numbers among my oomfs on twitter, a very shitty date (the situational irony of letting a man ruin my women's day) a ptwt fic gc in twitter (love u frens), and uni again, i let the ttdik series collect dust, my bad. as compensation, take this girthy chapter altho it makes me kinda insecure IDK. this is why i don't do series okay!! i'm my worst enemy and i fear procrastination is a chronical disease of mine atp

part: prev | masterlist | next

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas

His foot taps anxiously against the marble floor, sound drowned by the bustling crowd.

People come and go. Some hug, others cry. And Joel? Well, he's just waiting for you to come.

He checks his watch, the one Sarah gifted him, and sighs. Should've known better.

It's been two months since the pregnancy scare, and ever since then, you have put a bit of a distance between yourselves.

It was slow, gradual: first the excuses then nights were you wouldn't stay or ask him to. And, even if your affair was that, just an affair, he missed sleeping in the warmth of your embrace. He also missed the way your nose would crinkle when you laughed. You didn't laugh that often anymore, and if you did, it sounded like you were holding in: as if you were afraid to let loose and let him see through you. And to be honest, it was killing him.

So when he reached out to you for this, he should've expected for you to say no. That you wouldn't show up after that I'll see if I'm free text: no, Joel Miller simply shouldn't have harbored that much hope for his daughter's bestfriend he happened to be banging.

If he hadn't confirmed his invitation, he'd probably gone home and layed down. Watch some garbage TV with Sarah and some beer in hand, but here he was, like a lonely loser, luggage in hand.

(Sarah helped him pack. He didn't even know what to wear to a wedding, and then she showed up with his old suit-- that still fit, somehow, albeit a bit more tight, from the dry cleaning. Joel would be lost without her)

The speaker announces his flight is about to leave. Joel gets up, trying not to be dissappointed about the whole thing. He's got no right to, after all.

"Joel?"

He'd end up breaking his neck by how fast he turned.

There you are, and it's like the weight he wasn't aware of, settling on his chest, had been removed.

"You made it" is the first thing that makes it out of his lips.

You softly laugh, "Hello, Joel"

He gets closer to you, slowly, like if he where to do it faster, he'd scare you off. Or you'd be gone, as if a dream.

(It'd be a nightmare, though, because you wouldn't be here)

"Sorry. I-" he cuts off, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. There's some tension lingering in the air, the same when you left his house a week ago. Joel had been too much of a coward to invite you then, rather hiding behind a screen.

But now you were here.

"I didn't think you'd come" he says after a beat of silence.

You tilt your head to the side, eyebrow up as if you hadn't been acting weird at all.

"Why wouldn't I?"

(Because it seems like being in the same room as me tires you. That your eyes don't shine anymore, and the starry sky looks like a storm when you dare search my gaze as we fuck. Every time you breath, its like breathing the same air as me burns)

He rather not press, so instead, he says:

"I'm jus' glad ya' came. 'S all"

You nod, not adding anything at all. Then, both you walk to your gate, side by side in silence, the same that had seemed to seep inside your romance for the past weeks.

Well, romance was definitely a stretch. An affair seemed more like it.

Of course, you're aware the change it's on you. It would've been dumb of you to think Joel wouldn't notice your withdrawal, or how more often than not you'd be stuck in your head. But still, he didn't comment on it, and like you, danced around the subject, afraid for different reasons as yours. Or the same. Yet, you'll never know. No, you're aware you both are too stubborn, and that whatever it started on that day, had settled in between like a burning flame.

(Had you been engulfed by the fire yet?)

You try not to think about it. After all, you had the option not to come. But a weekend away in Las Vegas after midterms? Too tempting to let go.

(And it's not like images of a stood up Joel in the airport, looking miserable, had made you restless the last couple of days after his text)

"Ya' can take the window" he says, even if it's his seat.

He knows you're nervous about flying, a little detail that came up during a post-sex small talk.

(What're you're dreams? Joel asked. You had answered that you'd love to travel the world after graduating, but that you had a fear for flying, despite having only done it once. It may have been because the first time you did, it was to fly for your grandma's funeral. Perhaps it was by association then, that the bad feelings about boarding a plane could be related to that)

"Thanks" you mumble, sitting down. You're avoiding his gaze, but know he's looking at you.

"What?" a little harsher than intended.

He looks taken back, looking at his lap as he let's out a soft whisper, sheepishly:

"Nothin'. Jus' thinkin' you look pretty today"

A light blush creeps up your cheeks as you huff out a Whatever.

Joel let's a breath of relief out his tight chest and allows himself to smile.

(At least, he's still got an effect on you)

The wedding Joel was supposed to attend is in the Ángel De La Guarda cathedral. You'd be staying nearby, at a hotel room Joel's coworker had paid for, the same where the reception would take place.

Being in the same room as Joel one night should be the least of your worries, but then the space is even smaller than it was supposed to (given by Joel's cursing as he paced around, anxiously), and the strain of your relationship settles in the air, physically so, tight around your throat.

Then, it's the bed issue: there's only one. It's not like you haven't slept in the same bed before, obviously, but there's a certain dread deep in your stomach about sharing the enclosed space when you're at your most vulnerable. He moves around a lot during night, and something tells you you'd wake up to his strong arms and hot breath fanning over your neck, hairs rising at the proximity, making it harded to calm your heart.

"You okay?" he's asking, dropping the bags in a corner.

"At what time is the wedding?" you ask.

He checks his watch. "In about seven hours"

The glass bounces a ray right into your face, and you have to close your eyes at yet nother reminder of why this is all so wrong.

Sarah.

"We should rest..." he says, plopping on the bed. His plaid t-shirt rises up at the same time the color of your cheeks does, when the glimpse of soft tanned skin reveals itself. He looks up to your stiff standing figure, bulk arms behind his neck as he rests his head on his biceps. "Don't 'cha think?"

Lay with me. Not outloud.

"No" you say, hastily so, not missing the way a flicker of dull akin to the pain of rejection finds its way to his brown eyes. "I..." your voice softens. "I'd rather take a tour of the place, you know? It's not like I'll come every weekend here"

He's about to raise up. I'm coming with you, again not out loud, in case you'd reject his offering again.

Which you do.

"I'm fine" you say, grabbing your purse. "Just... I need a moment"

Away from you.

"Suit yourself" but there's a sharp edge on his apparent kindness.

Closing the door behind you, it takes all of you to not turn around and see his face one last time.

You wander off through the bright lights and noisy hallways, walking until the sun of the outdoors filters a ray over the carpet through the glass doors. Strides take you to the pool area, kids giggling, parents sunbathing and youngsters chilling.

You sigh, dipping your feet in the pool, chlorine up your nose and water baterly grazing your sundress.

But you're drowning.

Drowning on his presence, every room he's in now smaller. Walls of the room collapsing, as the ones of your lungs, every breath tight if your nose catches a whiff of his scent lingering in the air. You'd wash the sheets almost immediately, crying when your head hit the pillow and it smelled like lavender and not Joel.

It was the only right choice: to erase him out of your life, because with every new kiss and thrust, he'd take another part of you with him, and you don't know how much more you can give of yourself without dying. A part of you dies every time he walks out the door, anxious heart pondering when will he walk out for good. When he'll realize the thrill is gone, that your escapades were all but a product of his crisis, and what started as a mutual use of bodies, ends in the waste of your heart.

Joel has become a drug for you: knowing it's destructive, but the high so addictive, you don't mind the crash. It's unevitable, and a small treacherous voice in the back of your head says you're just postponing a foretold death.

Yet Joel Miller makes you feel alive. Alive as a spring, grassbed full of blooming flowers. As sun carressing your skin: if you stay too long, the warm becoming burning.

A kid walks up to your sad lonely pensive corner, splashing water onto you.

"Hey!" but he's gone, and it's Vegas, so his parents are three mojitos down from the open bar, asleep under the sun. You curse, getting up and back to your room to change.

When you get to your room, is eerily quiet. And dark, the curtains closed.

You rumage through your suitcase, pulling out a change. The dress slips off, falling to the carpet with a pathetic drowned sound. You're about to change into the t-shirt when the lights flicker.

"You back?"

You scream, trying to cover yourself.

"Woah!" Joel covers his eyes, both your reactions ironically funny. Your cheeks burn as you finish dressing yourself up, and if he takes a small peak between his fingers, well, you'll never know. "Jesus, doll. If ya' wanted it so bad, could've asked"

Something akin to anger and deception morph into a burning flame in the pit of your stomach. Even after all this months, after this imminent fight, Joel can't bring himself to ask, dancing around the fragile line that barely holds on with the clap of skin against skin and sweat, as to replace the tears that will never see the light of the day.

"Right, because that's all I want"

He raises an eyebrow at your tone. "S' a joke"

"Jokes are supposed to make people laugh"

He shoots you a look, before standing from the bed.

"What's gotten into ya'?"

He walks closer, yet you give him your back, tossing the sundress with too much force in your bag.

"Don't know what you're talking about" as nonchalant as you can muster.

"Look at me" you keep the harsh packing going on. Joel grows impatient at your confusing demeanor, not just from today, but days ago. He's had enough. He spins you around, losing his cool as he shouts. "Damn it, y/n, stop actin' like a brat!"

"Don't touch me!" you yell back, pulling away.

"So that's how's it now?" Joel lets out a scoff. "Y' get on ma' bed but the moment I put a finger in ya', y'act all coy and angry?"

"Right, 'cause I'm a slut. That's what sluts do: we get on lonely men's bed and fuck them"

He grabs the bridge of his nose, breathing heavily. His voice is laced with frustration, and you know it's your fault.

"Never said that"

Why not talk it like adults? No. Too much of a coward to do that.

"Jus' tell me, doll. What's goin' on?"

I think I love you, and I'm fucking scared.

His voice is soft, pleading. In your lifetime, you never thought you'd see Joel Miller beg. You did once, but it wasn't like this. Please, he'd say. Now, here he is, standing before you like the smallest man who ever lived and not the unstoppable force you made him out to be.

It should be easy. But words never come easy. Not to you. Neither love, so foreign it makes you shiver with fear. So natural, one day you opened your eyes to him laying next to you, Sarah staying in another city for a soccer tournament, and decided that was what you wanted. All his mornings. His bed voice, thick from sleep. His droopy eyes and tired smile, facil hair tickling your face as he says Good mornin', Southern drawl never more prominent, kisses in between. Let's get sum coffee after, because he always had to drink the bitter liquid out of his owl mug or wouldn't be able to make it through the day.

You want him to be the first thing you see when you open your eyes.

You want Joel Miller. Want. Want. Want.

"I hate you"

You have ruined me.

He probably expected anything but that, given his crestfallen face. Joel wishes for time to go back, at the beach. He'd say no, push you away. Fought a little harder. Never gotten into your bed.

The worst part is, he's a fucking liar: he'd probably still choose the same, even if the end is near.

"You ain't mean that" not knowing if he's trying to convince you or himself. "Jus' wanna hurt me"

You don't humor him with an answer.

"I shouldn't have come" is what you say instead, the bitter taste of defeat and hurt etched in your voice.

Would've been easier to stop when we should've.

His words run through the tense air like a bullet.

"I agree"

Weddings had always made you cry.

You weren't even a romantic, but the whole thing-- the promise of forever, it seemed to move your heart a bit.

So, if your eyes shimmer when the bride makes her entrance and the groom, Joel's co-worker, tears up, you feel your chest tight and stomach drop. It clenches with something akin to dread and want, as if suddenly, all that mattered to you was love. A year ago, if you told yourself-- the one who got on her knees to suck Joel's dick at the beach that night, that you'd be here?

You would've laughed.

Falling for the grumpy old man who also happens to be your bestfriend's dad?

Right. Imagine that.

Except there is nothing to imagine. All of it is real.

From his quiet laughter, the sound foreign and not frequent by the way it rasps against his throat. But now the wrinkles around his eyes are more prominent, forbidden laughs marking his blushing face. as he looks away, embarrassed. You can laugh, you had said, I won't tell anyone, yet he made you swore like the sight of Joel Miller laughing was the worst thing in the world. So had become the grey strands on his hair, more sprouting each time, as his damp curls twisted in your fingers.

It is also in the way his sweat that drops over your body as he tries hard to last longer, to his grunts that fill the room as he fills you to the brim with his warm cum. How his rough seems to meet every inch of your soft skin, like pieces of a puzzle.

Something clicks when you're with Joel, and you can't help but feel it's your fault this rift has been created, aggressively peeling the white off your nails as some form of anxious torture. But, he too, aside from his initial Just glad you came, hadn't said a word about it again. Even if he had noticed it all, before Vegas too. Nothing. And then Joel told you it was best if you didn't come. Fucking great.

You feel him tense next to you, body stiff when your arm accidentally brushes his when you stand up from the bench, making you roll your eyes.

The fallout had been awkward. The elevator ride took forever, and then the space on the cab felt too small. He took you to the back, on the benches near the exit, like he didn't want to be seen with you. It got you fuming: why bother to invite you at all?

In all truth, you could've picked up your bags and left after the fight, yet you stayed. You wonder who's more of a coward. In this weird dancing around you've got going on, walking in circles over the words Stay and Leave, like both are too delicate to say out loud. Even as the couple speak their vows, amid the claps and tears, your mind keeps drifting back to one question: Which would hurt less?

It's not until it ricochets on your arm that you realize the tears are also your own. You brush it fast, but by the corner of your eye, you know Joel notices. Still, he doesn't say anything, which contributes to your spite.

The ceremony is over, and just as you can feel the anticipation of the reception's drinks to buzz your nerves down, someone blocks you the exit. A couple, more like it.

Before fully registering their faces, Joel's hand flies to your back, pressed in a firm manner that oozes protectiveness. It makes your heart flutter, no matter how much you try to suffocate the treacherous butterflies in your stomach. You try not to think too much about it as you take them in: a man, looking in his middle forties, probably around the same age as Joel, so as the woman next to him, who smiles warmly. Not like the man, who seems unwelcoming.

"Joel" he pronounces his name, manners coming out cold. "It's nice to see you made it"

His grip on your back becomes more firm.

"Mark" he uses the same tone. "Well, when ya' confirm, y'gotta come"

"And who may this be?" Mark's wife asks, not thinking there's harm in her words. You swear you can hear him snicker next to her.

"She's-"

Joel stops midtrack. How is he supposed to even call you?

"I'm his girlfriend"

You don't know why you did that but you did. You also don't know why it causes you such satisfaction to see their wide eyes and Mark's disdain.

"Oh, I didn't know you had a girlfriend. How lovely!"

His cheeks go pink. "Thanks, Laura"

"Yes, Joel. Didn't think you'd move on" but his tone isn't like his wife's. "I just assumed that being with someone wasn't on your list anymore, you know, at your age. Especially one so... young"

Laura shots him a look.

Maybe it wasn't your place to get angry, not after how you've subjected Joel to your silent treatment this past months. Not after the fight you've just had hours ago. But he is also the same man who held your hand after you thought you were pregnant. He was the one who stayed. It is too how his shoulders slump, like he believes it to be true. You can't bear to see him sad, as contradictory as that may sound.

"Mark, right?"

The man nods, still sickly smiling.

"To me it sounds like you're jealous. Which is awful, because you've got a lovely wife" she looks away embarrassed while Mark fumes. "Also, when I turn around, try not to stare at my ass. I saw you when we arrived"

There's nothing left to say, so you walk past them.

"I think that was funny. Don't you?"

He avoids looking at you.

"I called a cab. Should take us back to the hotel"

No thanks. Nothing.

"Alright" your tone is dry. "Do as you please"

He opens the door for you, but his movements seem stiff and unnatural. Like he's second guessing every breath and step.

The car begins to move. You lean against the window, seeing the hues of neon through the glass. Joel's eyes burn holes on your head, a glimpse of brown in the reflection.

"I liked the wedding"

Joel looks at you properly for the first time since the fight. Your hair falls gracefully in cascades, hinting at an effort that tries to pass as a nonexistent one. Your makeup is soft, but your lips are in a shade he can't quite name, yet manage to make them even more fuller than usual. God, he thinks of it smeared on his clothes and mouth, feeling dumb all of the sudden. Then there's the dress. He doesn't have a favorite color, but as of now, it may be red: specially if its the red that hugs your curves, pushes your tits up and gives a little peak of your leg with its open cut, dangerously close to the start of your inner thigh. Not appropriate to wear at a church, maybe not a wedding either, but fuck didn't he care. He'd even rip it off, if it was such a problem.

"It was beautiful" he agrees, softly. "Never been to one. Maybe's why I think so"

You remove yourself from the window, now holding his gaze.

"What?" your mouth drops in surprise. "What about yours? Weren't you married?"

He smiles, but it appears to be sad. "Never got time for a wedding thought"

Joel has told you things. Things he'd never say outloud to anyone else. So whenever he opens up, letting you in, you let him, feeling that familiar pleasing ache in your chest at the thought of being enough: enough to be trusted with a piece of him. Of Joel Miller's heart.

The rest of the ride is silent, your mind still on Joel's hand on your back, on his words, and how the sting never goes.

In every thought of yours, he is.

"What'appened to your nails?"

The question catches you off guard. You're surprised he even noticed at all. But your hand lays in the space between his and your dish, stiff, as if waiting for him to hold it.

"Oh" you remove it from the table, placing it in your lap. "I chipped the polish off"

"Why?"

You turn to look at him, brown eyes examining you curiously, as if he didn't know you. Like he hadn't almost whisper those three words you had been tettering around as well.

"Why what Joel?" tone brash.

He scoffs at the change again, shoulders slumping a bit. Probably in annoyance, perhaps in defeat.

"Dunno" he goes back to his dish, cutting the steak with a bit too much force. I thought we were okay again. "S'rry I asked"

Your chest tightens, as it had been doing lately.

Was this the only thing you knew how to do now? Hurting Joel?

"No, I'm sorry"

It's his turn to get back at you. "Sorry for what?"

You swallow the lump that's formed in your throat, avoiding his gaze.

"I-"

Your eyes nervously dart across the room, trying to ignore the churn of your stomach and knot on your throat. You then catch the perfect distraction.

"I think Mark is staring at us again"

"What?" Joel asks in disbelief at your change of topic.

"Mark is staring" you sigh, getting up and dusting your dress off. "Wanna put on a show?"

"I didn't come to a wedding and wore this dress to be seated all night" you extend your hand. A quiet truce settles in between. "Let's dance"

At some point he gets up and takes your hand. It feels good. For a moment, be it childish or foolish, your mind thinks this is how it is: with no one around to know you, you're his and he's yours. It's just the two of you, dancing and laughing under the lights. He'd know the song that's playing, and when you'd ask, unfamiliar, Joel would joke: how could ya' know it, if you ain't even born yet?

For just a moment, it feels like it could be.

The music is soft. It's some sort of rendition of Lady, Lady, Lady by the band Jim hired to play at his wedding.

Joel's clammy hands slip against your cold palms as you walk to the dance floor.

"Nervous?" you ask, biting back a smile.

He squints his eyes at you. "I'm just outta practice, 's all"

You laugh. "I would've never guessed"

He shakes his head, but the ghost of a smirk hides in his lips.

"Cheeky baby. Now you actin' funny?"

Joel's hand finds its place in your waist, holding firmly as the first verses go by.

Dancing behind masks, just sort of pantomime.

But images reveal whatever lonely hearts can hide.

"Maybe I'm just tired" you reply, placing your head against his chest. His heart starts drumming faster, and you hear him gulp.

"It ain't even midnight yet"

You close your eyes, feeling every breath of his chest against your cheek.

"You know that's not what I'm talking about"

Lady, lady, lady, lady

I know it's in your heart to stay

"Y/n-"

Lady, lady, lady, lady

"I'm sorry" this time clearer.

His body rocks yours slowly to the tempo of the music, and for a brief moment, amongst the sea of guests and the voice of the singer, time stops, and it's just him and you.

"Don't"

He can't bear it. Not tonight.

When will I ever hear you say

I love you

Not when your body feels so well against his, your head resting on his chest like all those nights ago, where Joel held you close, the silent promise of never letting you go on his warm strong embrace. Not when just the thought of losing you is too unbearable to even think of. Not when today, he can let his mind drift away and heart beat, dreaming of things that'll make him the butt of the joke. For a moment, you're not wearing this red dress that's making him insane. You're all in white and there's a ring in your hand, just as there's one in his. You'd dance and say I'm yours, forever. A giggle. You can't get rid of me. And he'd smile and reply a Good, wasn't plannin' to.

But now he feels like he's going to lose you forever.

"I missed you" it's your way of trying, again.

His head is a whirlwind of emotions.

"Yeah?"

You lean closer, until his cologne burns in your nostrils.

"Yeah"

Time like silent stares, with no apology

"Joel"

Move towards the stars, and be my only one

This time, he finds it impossible to shut you up. Not when you've raised your head until your eyes meet his, and the constellations he very much loves are ever present in your stare.

Reach into the light, and feel love's gravity

"Yeah?"

You pull in closer, and he can feel the whiff of champagne coming out of your mouth. Your lips are parted, and a shaky whisper is all it takes for his head to spin, drunk in love.

"Please"

That pulls you to my side, where you should always be

Your lips are so inviting. All he has to do is cut the centimeters separating your mouths.

But it's a wall. One filled with doubts, fear and the quiet rage of rejection.

His voice wavers when he starts speaking.

"I think-"

He hasn't even finished his sentence, but your heart is already broken.

No wonder why you've always treated it like a burden: nothing is worst than a heavy heart.

Maybe he'd come to realize just how absurd this all was. Him, much older than you and Sarah's dad. How could he let his daughter's bestfriend go this far. That he was a forty something guy, dancing with a twenty two year old girl. That love comes in all shapes and sizes, but there's no name for this you have going on since last summer. Perhaps, there'll never be.

"Please" you hear yourself repeat.

It started as a plea for a kiss. You don't know what you're begging for anymore.

"No, baby-"

And Joel is the first to step back.

Lady, lady, lady, lady, I know it's in your heart to stay

The cold water of rejection hits you in the face, far from his warm embrace, the contour of his face, centimeters away, now meters.

"We can't"

An ocean away.

"Joel-" your throat tightens, panic bubbling in your chest.

"I think we should stop"

The whole world around you does as soon as those words leave his mouth.

Sorrow is quick to turn into anger, and all those months of guilt, rush, thrill, labored breaths, broken rules and promises you held to your heart as an oath, sweet whispered cons in your pillow that smelled like him. It all comes crashing down with force.

A dry laugh escapes past your lips. Joel winces at the sound.

"A bit too late for that, isn't it?"

"Baby-"

"Don't call me baby" you hiss, feeling your vision blurry. "Don't call me like you meant it"

"I do" the music has reduced to a buzz in the back of your head. His firm voice borders between desperate and pathetic. "Which is why am making 'tis"

"Fucking coward" you spit, feeling your skin on fire.

Don't give up. Please.

Fight for me. Fight for this.

For us.

"Coward?" it's Joel's turn to laugh. His dark chuckle sends shivers through your skin. "Y' shouldn't be talkin' 'bout that"

"Don't put all of this on me" you raise your shaky finger, accusing. "Don't you fucking dare"

"Thought Mark was watchin'. Or 's that 'nother one of y'r lies?" Joel seethes. "Or maybe ya' don't give a shit 'bout it. Jus' like you ain't give a shit 'bout us!"

"You think this is easy?" your voice raises. "You think I wanted this?"

You think I don't care? That I'm doing well? That I wanted to pull away from you? That I knew things would got as bad as they are?

You think I wanted to fall for you?

His eyes darken. "You started this"

Your heart stops beating. People laugh, the band is still playing and chatter bubbles like the champagne flutes waiters carry by.

But all you can hear is the moment your palm meets his face.

"I wish I never met you, Joel Miller"

And then you rush out the door, your heels burning as much as your eyes and chest. Far from the party, far from the world.

Far from him.

"We ain't done yet!"

You hear him bark behind you, yet your legs don't stop, despite the buzz in your ears and the slight stumble in your walk.

Your voice sounds like it doesn't belong to you when you hear yourself speak, without turning around.

"I think we are"

But Joel doesn't give up, making you feel trapped between wanting to hit him again and let yourself be held.

"Y/n!" he calls out just like he used to when you were a kid. Like you knew no better. Reckless. Berating. But now the taste of bitter mingles with his punishing demeanor.

You spin your heel, walking menacingly towards him.

"Don't call me that" you seethe, jabbing a finger to his chest.

"That's your fucken name!" he shouts.

Tears spring in the corner of your eyes. "You know what I mean"

"Enlighten me, doll" the nickname feels like a slap to your face, and for a moment, you wish he called you by your name again, instead of tainting the always sweet calling with his vitriol, as if the four letters meant something sacred he had profaned. "S'a matter of fact, why don't y'enlight me 'bout everythin' that's goin' on. 'Cause guess what? I'ont know what the fuck is happenin'!"

And it terrifies me.

His shout probably ran across the empty hallway. The music coming from inside sounds like a muffled heartbeat, mirroring your own.

To lose you. I might as well have.

"I don't know why you seem'a hate me now" quiet this time, like every word coming from his mouth take his voice little by little. "Why ya' get all sweet on me after weeks of leavin' me, pushin' me to the side... I'm old, doll. I ain't capable of takin' this anymore"

I'm not capable of surviving a broken heart.

The possibility of losing Joel, foever, had never crossed your mind, not even as you closed off, ignoring the way his brown sad eyes would search yours to try and find answers, maybe scraps of the... whatever it was you shared.

Now, it was real, and it shook you to the bone.

"Was fun while it lasted" closing off, trying to shut the doors he let you in, clawing back to that Joel Miller who couldn't be bent. The one Sarah deemed unbreakable. But it's the same that didn't know when to back down, now praying the price of his foolishness.

I don't regret it, but Joel doesn't have it in him to give you more of his heart for you to take. If he cuts it now, from the root, he'll spare his brain from saving more seconds of the image of you he'd have to get rid off: you, taking your coffee with two bags of sugar because you hated uneven numbers, and three seemed too much for your latte. You, standing on his room like you belonged there. You, on his car, the leather having absorbed some of the floral scent you seemed to carry with you. In your clothes, your skin, your hair. He'd have to go to bed knowing he'd never get to feel your strands in his fingers, tickling the remmanents of desolation he'd been carrying like a second skin ever since Sarah's mother walked away.

Your blood runs cold.

"Fun?" the words spill in a bitter incredulous tone, all the while you're trying to hold to him without raising your hand for him to take it, like just the thought of it would be enough to choose you. Words seem to fail you, and grasping at him feels like holding sand: it keeps falling from your fingers, a cruel reminder of your borrowed time. "Joel"

"Fun" he repeats the word, feeling sick. "As in, you'd marry someone who's worth for ya'. Probably choose Texas, maybe you'll stay away. 'Cause you're smart, and know what's good. But if ya' came back, livin' at the same neighbour, in the house across mine, you'd glance up and see my porch, thinkin' 'bout us, and this will become a joke with y'r husband, 'bout your rebel days. To your kids, summ cautionary tale. To you? An'scape of summ sorts of y'r other wise boring life"

Your shaking at this point, not knowing if it's anger, humilliation or sorrow.

I'm sorry. Please, don't give up on me. Stay.

"I'd be an experience. But to me? Doll" Joel chuckles, humorlessly. "You were everythin'"

A choked up sob bubbles from your chest.

"So that's what you think of me?" you laugh, a sound so hollow it makes his skin shiver. "That this is for the thrill? For the fucking anecdote?!"

"Trust me. I've lived long 'nough, kid. You'll understand later"

It's like all those months next to him meant nothing. Like pulling away from your lips was the easiest thing to do.

"Don't you fucking dare call me a kid!" you push him. "I'm not a kid"

"I know you ain't!" he roars back. "But you don't know shit!"

"Neither do you!" your quick to counter. "You think you've got me all figured out, huh? Bet you think that I'm some helpless naive idiot who doesn't know what I want. I don't know what I'm doing, that you're right. But I do know what I signed up for, the price I would pay" losing you or Sarah. Both. "I wanted it, and newsflash: so did you" you breath, running your hands through your hair, trying to comb some sense of normalcy to ground yourself while you try to recover your composture. His arms lay weakly by his sides, restraining himself from running to you and craddle you on his arms. "You chose this. You chose me, Joel Miller" each word pronounced with contempt. "I'm not a victim. Neither are you"

A dry chuckle escapes past his chapped lips. "What are we, then?"

(Two lonely souls who seek warmth. People who fell into the same bed. Shared time they shouldn't have. Selfish. Living on borrowed time. Always tettering around the edge, so easy to fall. History repeating itself. The dancing around. Dirty, like the Texan roads: and they all lead back to his bed)

"So do it" you shove him again, as if by doing so, you could push him away forever. From your mind, from your heart. From your life. "Say it"

He shakes his head, as if you'd insulted him.

"Sweetheart-"

"Say. It" you bark, tasting the venom on your tongue. "Say it!"

"I can't" looking so small, your resolve almost crumbles. Almost.

"Coward" you spit, repeatedly punching him feebly on the chest as tears stream down your cheeks. He tries to grab your hands, to stop you. "Don't touch me! Let me go"

"I can't" this time louder.

Tears sprout with more intensity at the desperate weight on his tone.

A single drop runs down when you say, defeated: "Quit me"

"I can't!" he shouts in your face, voice breaking slightly.

"Why?!"

"'Cause I fucking can't!" Joel breaks. He crumbles in your arms, body shaking as he buries himself in your reluctant embrace. He speaks again, this time softer, "I can't lose 'cha, baby. If that makes me sum goddamn coward, then so be it"

Something in you stirs. Like a lost boat, finding a lighthouse during a storm. Arriving to shore with gentle waves. Home, where it belongs.

"Joel-"

"I'm sorry for bein' selfish" between agitated and terrified, afraid of the silence and what you may say. "For noticin' your quiet and still carryin' on"

"Joel"

"Believe me, doll. I tried to stop. To leave ya'" he swallows, "but then I got invited and my mind went to ya'. Fast. You were the first person in my mind. Always are. I think that's when I knew. S'okay if you don't-"

"Joel!" you shout this time.

He raises his view from his little spot on your chest.

"It isn't just you" in a whisper that could easily pass as the wind that sweeps inside from the main door. Voice so fragile it hurts like glass. "I feel this too"

Just like that, he's both gone and back. His heart beats on his throat, voice raw when he searches for your eyes and asks:

"You do?"

The big unbreakable Joel Miller, looking at you not like a force to be reckoned with, but as a man, worn down by years of solitude and the weight of a secret.

You smile through the tears. "I've been many things, but a liar never"

He chuckles, softly. "Always was a bad one"

"See?" softly teasing, "you can attest to that"

"Twenty one years seem 'nough"

"Soon to be twenty two" pause. "And I would love it if you were there to see it"

A breath hitches somewhere in the middle of the new aphonia that's settled.

"You don't mean all'at. Think 'bout it-"

"I do" you interrupt him, firmly. You hold his gaze while cupping his face, the fright on his face mirroring your own. "You asked before, remember? There's your answer"

Joel is at loss for words. Was never good with them, less when it came to you: like your presence unsettled him in the same way tornadoes made him quiver when he was a child, rattling him to the bone. But there was a morbid fascination to them, in their destructive nature. Like beauty could be horror too, and he had learnt it thanks to your unforgiving winds that had swept him away from his feet.

He was flying. Fucking flying. Never quite landing. Afraid of the fall.

"I'm scared"

Joel leans in, forehead touching yours. His skin is warm, something about it soothing your nerves down.

"Me too"

You bite back a smile. "Big broody Miller, scared?"

"Y' know how'da disarm a man. I'll give ya' that"

You laugh, eyes crinkling while you swat his chest playfully. It's the same sound he missed so dearly. Joel can feel himself breath with relief.

"Now that's the story I'll tell my kids" could be our own. "The one where I won over Joel Miller"

A deep, rich rumble erupts from his chest as he pulls you even closer, this time, your head the one on his chest.

"I'll do you one better" he slowly moves his leg closer to the inner part of your thighs. "Wanna hear how it ends?"

"Jesus, Joel" laugh tense. Your heart pulses like his cock. Hard. "You sure are a mood killer"

He presses further. "But ya' want it, don't 'cha?"

You whimper, weakly. Truth is, you've been wet since you saw him dress on his rather tight suit. Now, after what you just confessed, you're not sure you can hold back any longer.

"Use y'r words, baby"

"Our room" the possesive adjective making his stomach rumble with need. "Now"

Stumbling feet. Whispered breaths oozing with drunk desire. Giggles. Buttons of an elevator pressed forcefully. A crammed space that felt even smaller. More giggles in a hallway full of doors that looked the same. Some mumbling, trying to remember the room. Grabbing the card from his pocket. You somehow make it to your room. Fumbling fingers. One swipe. Two. Try slower, but his voice is as urgent as strained. The door gives in. Finally, couldn't wait any longer. And he's chastising you, for being so impatient. Yet his eyes are all dark and sweet when looking it at you.

"We're here" and then the door closes with a loud thud. And Joel is yours again, just like he was that night, and forever was since.

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him back fervently. You open your mouth and let his tongue get inside as you moan his name.

"Please" you whine.

"Please what?" Joel chuckles, enamoured at your hanging mouth and heaving chest. Fucking tease. "Use y'r words, doll"

"Please, Joel" and hearing your name fall out of your lips like it's the most sacred prayer brings him weak to his knees. "I need you"

(I need you, as in I need you here. With me. Now. To never let go and hold my hand, not only when we fuck, but also when we walk, side by side, hands brushing like a touch it's too much to bear. Because if we held hands, I'd never be able to pull back. I need you to look at me as you undress me, because I'm bearing all of me for you, scars, body and secrets, trembling like a scared child, because no one's ever had me. Not like you. Not like you)

"'S right, sweet thing" he drawls out in a husky whisper, like his slick tongue was coated in honey. He pulls your head back, nipping and sucking on your skin. "Say ma' name like 's the only thing you know"

And in a way, it is. Because you'd always call Joel, fingers itching at a number you've memorized until it's burned in your eyelids, like when you close your eyes, you can see him standing in front of you, Texan accent and heavy boots in your doorstep, later to be discarded and hidden beneath your bed.

He pulls back, making you involuntary whine at the loss of his lips and tongue on you.

"Tell me you want this" he's saying, and for a moment, past the fire and the need, you see Joel as not the man who can bring you to come two times in a row, but your bestfriend's dad, who's slept in a bed alone for the past two decades, who can't meet you in the eyes when he undresses himself, looking like the one who's got the more to lose when his lips press aginst yours in a soft manner, not out of tenderness but out of fear.

"I do" without hesitation, as if you would tattoo your promise and wear it like your heart on your sleeve. "I want you, Joel"

You want all of him: from his boring Sundays sprawled on the couch watching a rerun of some old sitcom to his greying hair, aching joints and creaking bones, that despite so, would still kneel and eat your pussy like a man starved, tongue sliding through your folds with a learned ache, pouring the same yearn, longing and hunger that he wears on his eyes when they land on you, no matter if his brown are miles away, because they'd always find your own, like a boat lost in translation and a sea of sorrow coming back home, as if you're the only important thing in the world. His anchor. The lighthouse of his vast ocean of forlorness.

"That's my girl" but no smirk adorns his face, rather a small smile that warms your chest, right as he pulls you back in. There's a shift in the aire as he kisses you know, as if not only his tongue is in your insides but his soul, without holding back this time, like all limits have blurred and melted into a pool of desire and affection.

Joel pushes you down onto the wide bed, climbing on top of you as he kisses your jawline, leaving wet kisses along your warm skin. You moan as every contact of his mouth sends shudders to your body, him taking his time as he works over your jaw, down to your chest.

"Such'a pretty doll. And's mine" his calloused fingers fiddle with your bra, unclasping the lingerie until it falls messily discarded next to the bed. "Got summ nice tits on you, baby" and Joel's eyes sparkle with excitement, lighting up like the neon lights of the Vegas sign, "don't 'cha think?"

Your back arches with his touches, mouth ghosting over your nipple, already pebbled at just Joel's breath.

"Fuck, Joel" you mewl his name, dragged with difficulty as he laps his tongue over your breasts greedily. You can feel Joel's cock pulse and throbb in your thigh as his body hovers over yours, lips still wrapped around your nipple as he suckles and nibbles at the tender flesh.

"'S sorry, doll" he's apologizing in a mocking manner as you whimper at the contact of him against you, suckling hard, tongue swirling and flicking over the sensitive bud as he drew it deeper into the wet heat of his mouth. "Ain't know you'd be so fucken responsive with just a lil' lick at y'r pretty tits"

As your body trembles and quakes, he speaks again.

"Open y'r mouth" you do so, because honestly, you'd never deny him a thing. "Want 'cha to suck on 'tis fingers, like the slut ya're. Get them wet so they feel good against 'tis greedy pussy"

You take the fingers as you'd take his cock, sucking on the skin that tastes like salt and gasoline, a slight bitter taste but you take them as deep as you can, until your lips brush his rough knuckles.

"Good greedy whore" he praises. "Now let me help ya' with that"

Joel gestures your damp panties, taking them off and putting them up his nose, inhaling like he did the first time you ever fucked, back at the beach house that summer that feels a life ago, seawaves crashing onto the shore as they drowned out your moans.

"Sweet" as if your arousal was his favorite dessert, gripping the sticky lingerine until his knuckles turn white. "Fucken wet and drippin', and s'all for me"

He feels your greedy hands fumble with his pants and belt, pulling him closer as the feeling of unfairness at his clothed figure dawns upon you.

"I like how you look in a suit, but right now-"

He laughs, a deep rich sound bubbling up from his chest.

"Ma' baby wants it that bad, huh?" you nod your head feverishly, a beg threatening past your lips.

"Please, Joel. I want to suck your cock" the dirty words come out as quick as a breath. "I missed it so so bad" not caring at all about how desperate you come across or the pitiful begging that's a plea away from drooling out of your mouth with an aching hunger.

"'S that what you want? Draggin' me out'a reception 'cause y'r greedy dirty mouth couldn't keep still? Bet you'd crawl on da' floor just to get a taste of this dick" every word makes you mewl. "Might have to see ya' beggin' for it"

"I'll do it" you beg, voice a wanton plea. "I'll do whatever, I just need to-"

"I see ya' really do"

He removes your hands from his body, chuckling as you pout and whine like a baby.

"Love hearin' ya' so eager fo'me" Joel says, tugging the pants finally down. Through the cloth of his underwear, it's impossible not to see the silhoutte of his hard throbbing dick.

The sight of him, hair disheveled, pupils blown wide, white button shirt now wrinkled and sticky with sweat, tie loose and that faint smell of champagne that clung to his mouth and scent like a second layer of his skin.

"Get on the floor. Now" he commands, and you're quick to obey. "Gonna fuck that dirty mouth of yours until my cum dribbles outta your cheek. S' now? Be obedient if ya' want a taste, slut"

You let out a small whimper as Joel frees his cock from his underwear.

"That's right, baby. Like what ya' see?" his cock is straddling your face in your current kneeling form. "Need that mouth to open wider"

You obey in an instant.

"Good girl"

Joel shoves his cock inside your mouth, giving you a few seconds to adjust before pushing a little further. You bob your head forward but the task proved to be hard when he was thrusting at the same time. His big hard dick hits the back of your throat, a gag dying past your busy lips. 

"'S it bad if I tell ya' I like watchin' you squirm and struggle with my cock? 'S fuckin' hot"

You narrow your eyes, struggling to keep your throat relaxed as he thrusts forward, fucking your mouth and throat. Your thighs clasp together, the slick pooling down your legs in the absence of underwear.

Joel's groans become raspier as his body begins to tense.

"'M gonna fuck y'r throat raw, doll. And then, I'm gonna cum. Down y'r greedy throat. 'S my girl okay with that" he can see the plea in your eyes as you choke on his cock once more. "S'alright then. Ya' know I love to spoil ma' girl"

As his body starts to edge closer, his tongue runs loose.

"Love watching you suck ma' dick" he looks down on you, eyes glossy, probably because he was drunk in alcohol and you. "Love how it feels. Love how you feel. Love- I love you"

(There's an involuntary gag somewhere)

Joel's body tenses and it doesn't take that much for you to feel the warmth of his cum go down your throat.

You choke again and he brings his dick out of your throat and let you swallow the rest. 

There's a beat of silence, as dense as his fluids down your throat. You avoid his gaze, heart drumming on your chest.

"Doll..." he whispers, the last bits of climax sweating off his skin; all that's left is shame. "C'mere"

(Say it back, he should plead. I know your eyes don't lie, but if I heard those three silly words out of your mouth, I could die happy tonight. A bigger man would beg, but he's never been good, even if he tried)

He helps you get up, wobbly legs not being of help when it comes to the shock of his confession.

I love you.

As much as a tender touch as a knife slitting your chest open in a clean cut.

(You're bleeding love)

Love.

Such a foreign word, one you've never felt before. Yet, what's scary is recognizing that latent warmth on every stolen glance; brush of a hand. The tingles provoked by getting the largest serving, even if his daughter sat at the same table. The flutter of your chest when he tried to be there for you when you thought you were pregnant, even if he was as scared as you. In every little thing he had done since you first started playing with fire, how you wore his heartbeat as an echo and his skin like a second layer to your own.

His lips are swollen when they take yours.

"'S fine" some kind of tiredness seeping through the cracks of his gruff exterior and composed rejected posture. "Ya' don't have to-"

"I love you" you croack out.

His voice comes out impossibly small as he whispers. "What...?"

A fireworks show explodes out somewhere in the background.

"I love you" you repeat, words dripping with an adoration only known to captain's going down with their sinking ships.

You're drowning, but the water doesn't burn your lungs anymore.

"Lemme help with that sore throat of yours" he's tugging down your bottom lip, fingers playing with your mouth to open it. He gazes at you with a look that tugs at your heartstrings. "Open, baby"

Your dry throat and warm mouth welcomes the spit he lands inside.

"There ya' go" and you swallow it, making him curse. "Fuck. 'S so hot seein' you do that, my lil' sweet slut"

"Joel" you whine, hands curled up in white fists as you grab him by the collar of his button shirt.

"Whoa, baby. What's goin' on?" he chuckles softly. "Use y'r words"

"Y-You made a mess-" you blabber, the wet slick between your thigh sticky. "I-It hurts, Joel"

"Hurt?" he cocks an eyebrow. "Care to show me where?"

You sit in the bed, parting your legs, finger pointing out the moist zone.

"Here"

His adam's apple bobs, and the gulp reverberates against the walls of the room.

"Fuck... I see" each word strained. "Don't worry, doll. I can help ya' with'at"

It's his turn to kneel, knees burying on the carpet.

He places one of his big hands on your knee, his calloused fingers tracing absent patterns over the skin. His other hand drums slighty against your trembling leg, so close yet so far. You're so impossibly eager, and a part of him, that fragile ego, is boosted to the roof at your (actual and very real) want for him.

All that glistening pussy was his work. Joel really disarmed you like that.

"If I do this, maybe it won't hurt anymore" his mustache and recently trimmed beard tickle against your sensitive folds as he presses a kiss to your core. You writhe, throwing your head back as your hands fly to his hair, gripping the greying loose curls tightly at the contact. "Will ya' let me eat out this pretty pussy, doll?"

"Please" you let out, breathlessly.

"Love hearin' ya' beg" and he dives in, strong hands holding your thighs on place as he sucks your clit lightly. Your hips buck, his face burying into your cunt to the point his nose touches the warm folds. You moan at the feeling, his tongue now circling against your center.

"J-Joel"

"Feels s'good, right? As good as I feel feastin' on this tight little cunt" and his deep voice sends jolts when it echoes against your walls. You squirm at the sensation, stomach tight with his sucking and licking, misntrations sending you to the edge.

"Joel?"

Barely above a whisper, voice tight.

He looks up to you, pupils blown wide. "Yes?"

"C-Can you finger me, please?"

"Fuck, baby" he whistles. "You really know how'da bring a man to his knees"

And you chuckle at his lame attempt of a joke, not laughing at him but with him.

Joel slides one of his thick, calloused fingers through your soaked folds, feeling the velvet softness of your inner walls clench down on the invading digit, a demonstration of how impatient they were to take his cock. He circles your clit with the pad of his thumb, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves in tight, slow circles.

"Wanna hear you, y/n" just your name alone on his mouth makes you writhe, and Joel's encouragement as his finger dips lower to tease at your entrance. He slides a second finger into your cunt, pumping in and out of your tight walls in a steady, driving rhythm. You roll against his hand as he curls his fingers. "Fuck yourself on my fingers, baby. Wanna see you ride 'em 'til you come undone. Wanna taste your cum on my tongue as you scream ma' name"

He can feel your body start to tremble, pussy clenching down on his fingers as he fucks you with a relentless pace.

"Shit" he groans, tongue lapping firmly at your clit, "s' fucking tight"

"I-I can't help it" you feel the burning sensation in the corner of your eyes, "I-I feel every inch of you in me"

(Up to your body, head and heart)

"And you ain't even had my cock yet" he's quick to tease. "But I know you'll feel s'good, baby. Takin' my cock like da' good girl y'are"

Tears begin to stream down your face freely, the salty drops hot against your warm skin.

You sniffle, and Joel's movements stop for a bit.

"You cryin'?" but you know damn well he's aroused, by the way he licks his lips absentmindedly as his brown orbs stare back at you, dilatated. You still remember the last time you cried during sex, and how his reaction was practically the same, except this time, it's received with a grateful welcome home. "Fuck, baby- I love when you cry like a lil' cocksleeve over ma' dick"

Despite the lewd words, he's wiping your tears away with his thumb in a soft gentle touch.

"S'okay, baby" he coos, kissing up your throat and onto your chin. Then, you feel a wet sensation on your cheek: but it isn't the tears, yet his tongue, licking the hot stream. "I'll give ya' ma' cock if you want it so much. Now quit your cryin', yeah?"

But you keep sniffling, impossible to close the dam once it's broken.

"My sweet crybaby" Joel mumbles, "I love ya', doll"

"I love you too" each time you said it, a new flower blooming in your heart. It could be. "I do, Joel"

He smiles, the kind of smile that is painful to watch. The kind that says: Is this real? Do I deserve this?

"Y'know I'm bad with words, so lemme show you instead"

He's climbing on top of you as you push yourself into the middle of the bed, lips tangled into a demanding kiss, his tongue dominating your mouth like he wants to tame it. He drops his underwear again, but he's still wearing the goddamn shirt. You whine, and for a second, while over you, he stops.

"What is it, baby?" Joel pants.

"T-take it off" you huff, worked up. You let the tie loose first, starting to unbutton his shirt after. "I want to see you, Joel"

His hand is quick to fly and stop you from taking it off. Even in the dim lit room, you can see the faintest of a blush covering his cheeks.

"Sweetheart..." he mumbles, "I dunno-"

"Please" trying to remove his hand.

"You really wanna?" but behind his teasing smile there's both a hopeful and vulnerable glint to his voice.

You extend your hand, cupping his cheek. He leans into the touch, and for a moment, the world outside ceases to exist, and it's just you, your ragged breaths and the light tickle of his growing beard on your palm.

It could be.

"Because I love you" holding his gaze firmly. "All of you"

"Fuck, baby" Joel starts to get off the shirt, "ya' really made those fuckers downstairs drop their damn mouths when ya' walked in with me. Couldn't believe it, such'a pretty girl could be mine" he snarls, grabbing your face by the chin. "Hell, I'ont believe it either. That you could wanna be with me"

But then you're touching his now naked form before you, fingers slowly tracing through his face to his tense jawline. Then across his broad shoulders to his tummy, feeling the soft swell against your stomach as he leans over your eager form. It's the way you look at him, as if he's the most beautiful man in the world, that makes his breath catch on his throat, staggering.

Your sweet broken voice rings in his head.

It isn't just you. I feel this too.

(Scared. Confused. Happy. Grieving. Loving)

It should be his ego boosted and cock stroked, but when his eyes find yours, it's his heart that feels the fullest.

Fuck, he was too old for this shit.

"Look at 'cha, making lame ol' me a sappy motherfucker" he laughs, the same blush from earlier now more prominent. He leans down to kiss you, his moustache brushing your lips. "If ya' don't stop, I'll take ya' right now and we're gettin' married tonight by summ random Elvis guy"

"What If I wanted that?" you challenge as your mouth presses fluttering kisses to his caging arm, lips stopping on each spot and mole peppered through his thick bicep.

"Then get dressed" you feel him squirm under your insistent lips, "'cause I ain't gettin' married again while naked"

"Where you married, Joel?" you can feel the salt air up your nose of the first night again, asking the same questions. The fact that he's opening to you warms your chest in a pleasant way.

He looks at you absentmindedly, humming as to confirm.

"We were too damn young. Had to, for the baby on the way" he tells. You remember Sarah's aversion to the topic, and given his next words, it makes sense. "Then she left"

I would never leave.

"I'm sorry" you offer instead.

"Don't" the atmosphere is quick to change again as thise words leave his mouth. "Now, where were we?"

You're quick to spread your legs to him, gilstening cunt on full view.

"Good girl" he smirks, lining himself with your warm entrance. "If ya' keep behavin', I might give ya' my cum"

His tip against your clit for a few seconds before pushing down against your hole. Joel groans as his length sinks in your gummy walls, feeling the tightness from before.

"You feel s'good" grunting as he slowly pushes in, letting you adjust to his girth. "Always do" 

He presses a gentle kiss to your sweaty hairline. 

"Tell me how it feels"

"Good" you mewl. "Big"

"Ain't that right" he chuckles.

"Need it all. Please" and you grip his neck tightly, arms around it. His nose brushes against yours as he grunts out a You little minx. "Want it, Joel. I can take it"

He bottoms out. "Then do"

"Fuck" you curse, cunt stretched to adapt to his girth. You breath in painfully, and Joel's eyes lace with concern. "I-It's fine"

"Sure? I can wait"

"I’m okay" you assure him, moved by his care for you. You buck your hips. "You can move"

He starts by setting a slow pace, taking all the space insade your clutching heat. Joel groans at the sensation, your walls gripping him like a vice as he continues to move in a slow motion, pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes. Yet, as his arms cage you by your sides and you look at him with certainty, he picks up a brutal pace, just as you like it, slamming into you over and over again, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filling the small bathroom.

"K-keep going" you grip his left arm. Joel lets out a hiss as your nails dig on his skin. "Feels so good"

"Good'nough for you to cum on m'dick?" he groans huskily in your ear, breath ghosting on your skin like a hot kiss. "Gonna fill you up, doll. I'll mark you as mine, now and for da' rest of y'r life"

The way his voice drips with dominance as he commands you, filled with a rough rich baritone tinted with a possesive hunger, his hips moving faster as he drives into you with force, pistoning harder is enough to set you on edge.

He leans forward, capturing your lips in a kiss. 

"Cum f'me, baby. Let me hear ya' cryin' over my cock"

Tears. Stars. Grunts. Moans. Cum.

Your cry for his name against his lips is how you announce your orgasm, washing over you. Your walls flutter as Joel lets you ride slowly through your climax.

"There ya' go, baby. Go on, ride it" then, he pauses. His face strains. "Hold on tight. I'm gonna- I'm gonna cum. Right there, baby. Stay"

Somewhere along the moans and the writhes of your soft skin against his hard planes and soft belly, Joel asks where you want it. Inside, you hear yourself say, eager to feel all of him again, filling your insides, invading every inch of your body until a part of himself leaks into your heart. He's then blabbering as your walls and heart flutter, about kids and other things you both want but can't have. Tonight, though, as he Joel buries himself deep inside you, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he starts to come, grinding against you, making sure you feel every last spurt, every last bit of his release, you allow yourself to believe.

He pumps some shallows thrusts inside of your slick dripping cunt, emptying himself, before pulling out and looking down at you with a tired smile.

"I love you" he says again in fervent whisper, as if by repeating it, he could materialize it. "I love you so fucking much, y/n. And if ya' can't accept that, can't believe in that, then... then I'ont know what the fuck I'm gonna do. 'Cause I can't lose ya', baby. I can't"

"You won't" you don't know why it comes so easy, or why the promise slips as natural as a breath. "I'm here, Joel Miller. You won't lose me"

credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @loregifs

[eraserbread]

ur such a good writer im obsessed oh em gee. i wonder if you have any ideas for dilf nanami 😼😼 not even freaky ones but ugh he’d be such a good dad i am #5 nanami slut (hes not my #1 but hes UP THERE on the jjk husband tier list) anyway yeah ur amazing and super cool and virgin nanami was art

all those years ago when nanami swore he was gonna give you a baby in the heat of the moment, he truly meant it. he had a mind to infiltrate your life forever with a mini version of himself driving you crazy.

but, he thinks motherhood is beautiful on you. he held your shoulders as you gave birth, whispering how amazing and perfect you are -- that he has no choice but to love and cherish you forever because you gave him his girl.

yeah, nanami is a girl dad to the core. pink everything - glitters, bows, ruffled onesies, and princess movies.

if he didn't detest work five years ago, he surely detests it now. risking his life every day is so stupid now, but that's what funded the life he needed for his girls—for his beautiful little family that ran off of him.

nanami loves being the breadwinner. he loves coming home after a long day and seeing his girls cuddled on the couch asleep to movie credits. baby girl loves her princess movies—kento's spent a fortune to purchase movie replicas and custom-made designs to fill her room.

he approaches you two slowly, loosening his tie just a bit so its comfortable as he leans over the back of the couch, trailing a hand across your shoulder.

"hello, mama. you wanna head to bed? i can tuck her in." nanami's talking before your eyes even crack open, but you can hear it all. you two have been together long enough that he knows he can talk to you in this state. you're never really fully asleep - that's motherhood for you.

"god, you have no idea how happy i am to hear your voice."

you mumble, holding your five-year old daughter across the shoulders as she sleeps into your side. its going on year ten of marriage, now, even longer just as partners and then friends. it's safe to say you know your nanami inside out. all of his curse, all of his secrets and odd habits. his dirtiest desires, the way he showers. you have it all down to a science now. energy spent trying to love each other is mostly given to your daughter, now. in the best, sane parent way.

kento looks at her and feels delicate traces of cursed energy in her veins. but, he wouldn't tell you yet.

"yeah. go on and head to bed. i got it from here."

"i'm sorry, i couldn't make dinner, i didn't have time-

"i'll... order something, don't worry about it." nanami shakes his head, standing up straight with a grunt. he crosses over the side of the couch, rolling his head between his shoulders as he tries to come down from work.

you're both exhausted to the bone -- you with your fussy daughter and kento with both work and home; he's stronger than you tend to give him credit for because he never mentions his burden. he doesn't believe it exists anymore.

you watch as he leans next to you, sneaking a kiss from your cheek as he scoops up your sleeping daughter. she stirs a bit, but knows she's in her fathers arms. the size swallows her little frame up, and you can bet it feels safe as hell.

you sit up with him, tucking some of your daughters longer hair away from her face. she has his facial structure - slim face and wide cheeks and soft eyes. truly, his daughter. it's like you didn't even carry her for nine months.

"sweet dreams, baby." you whisper, kissing over her twitching forehead. you both were defintely starting to wake her up, so kento snatches her away.

"we won't hear the end of it." he mouths to you as he walks away, peeking at his girl every few seconds. once he turns into the doorway of her room, you take a breath and rub at your face aggressively to bring some life back.

if you could just stay awake for an hour, you could have some alone time. but, sleep was always better...

whatever. it's not like he's going anywhere...

[jonnywaistcoat]

Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.

To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.

On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.

But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.

At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.

As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.

[nichoskittycorner]

The Hunter becomes the Hunted (A Nicholas smut)

Yep, inspired by Deer Hunter cause that song is about fucking and we're gonna get the content we deserve

-- Also I'm sorry for disappearing for so long- writers block was kicking my butt and life happened so much! Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy 🩵

- Deer hybrid!yn, wolf hybrid!Nicholas, dickriding, pussy eating, knotting,

- Deer yn lived peacefully alone, everyday was as they wanted

-The forest was dangerous outside of their safe home. Wolves were the most dangerous and infamous in these parts

-But you were curious. There was a whole pack out there and maybe more but you had never come face to face with any of them, hence the curiosity

-It was silly, but maybe they were more than wild savage beasts. maybe they liked tea and long walks on the beach. you'd never know until you met one!

-One night, ironically a full moon one, you went searching for truffles. Putting on a warm hood, adjusting your antlers to not poke through the cloth and then heading out.

-In no time, your goal was found but so was your side quest

-Thankfully, deer senses made you much more alert and so the scent of a wolf and the calculated steps caught your attention

-"Show yourself wolfie. I know you're there."

-It was quiet for a moment, the tension in the air palpable before you could hear the clicking of a tongue and the sound of more confident footsteps

-From the shadows emerged the wolf you had sensed. And suddenly, the thought of being afraid washed away.

- This wolf was beautiful, almost angelic. He was somehow rugged but chic, smooth in his movements but stepped with a power and grace that was unmatched

-The most striking part was his eyes. Sharp, focused and most of all, hungry.

-You swallowed a lump in your throat and felt your knees go weak underneath you but remained standing. It was probably your instincts telling you to run as fast as possible but you were too intrigued to move

- "It's late you know little deer. All sorts of dangerous creatures linger in the dark."

-Oh no, even his voice was alluring. Deep and yet comforting like the night itself. You couldn't help but hold onto the tree next to you to stay focused

-"I-Im aware. I'm not afraid though, I know these woods better than anyone." You wanted to show no fear, because you knew if you did, there's a chance he could pounce and do who knows what

- The wolf looked you up and down with a smirk on his face. "Really now? You think you own the night like a wolf?"

-He continued to approach as he spoke, trapping you against the tree with his larger frame before you had a chance to back away. You could practically feel his body heat and heartbeat through his clothing

-An unwanted whimper left your lips before you could stop it. The wolf chuckled, trailing a clawed finger along your shoulder and chin and forcing you to look at him. His tail noticeably swinging with a bit more excitement

-"Aren't you gonna answer me little deer? Or is that whimper your answer, instant submission?"

-As hard as it was, you shot him a glare and shook your head free. "I never said that!"

-"Well, you're acting like it. I wouldn't be surprised, it's in your nature." His nose settled into the crook of your neck and his large hands trailed down your body, landing on your thighs. Gripping down tightly on the bare skin after hiking up the dress

-A little yelp came out as he laughed. The moment of weakness allowed his hands to move up higher and graze against your underwear.

-"H-hey, let me go!" It was only now hitting you how close he had gotten so quickly. Were you under a spell of some kind? Or a trap that wolves were capable of?

-A low chuckle left his chest. "I see, you want to play first? We can play for sure."

- Wait, play? No you weren't trying to entertain this mess. You wanted him to stop before you let the crazy dirty thoughts in your mind take over your actions.

- "I'll give you 60 seconds. You better run cutie so it's more fun."

-A protest wanted to leave your lips but there would be no point. He was a wolf, and you, a deer. He was strong, fast, and built to hunt.

- Enough time was wasted- you turned on your heel and sprinted off. You could run straight home, but then that would lead to him knowing your home location. You could run deeper into the woods, but the chances to run into another wolf would increase.

-Deers were made to run, so you sprinted as fast as your muscles would take you. Why you choose to wear a short dress tonight was probably never going to be properly answered

-As you ran, it felt like it was never fast enough. The feeling that the wolf was always right on your heels, constantly breathing down your neck and just a second away from snatching you up and doing what he pleased

-Honestly, the thought of this beautiful mysterious stranger touching you and doing whatever he wanted with your body was making you quiver slightly. Such an embarrassing thought to have while sprinting

-But the more you tried to push it away, the more the thought of being caught was appealing. You wanted his lips to touch yours, to have his claws leave marks in your skin- to hear his voice in a low growl as he used you to satisfy his deepest carnal desire-

-You had to stop running to refocus. Shaking your head to get such dirty thoughts out of your head. But the unmistakable feeling of wet panties wasn't helping

-For all you knew, he could kill you and you were thinking of screwing him! Maybe the feeling of being chased naturally got your blood pumping and the adrenaline was making you crazy. Yeah, that had to be it!

- Looking around, you caught your familiar surroundings and changed direction as you ran off again. It was almost scary how you hadn't heard a thing from the wolf in a while. Maybe you did actually lose him?

-You were considering slowing down or stopping but that idea disappeared when your hips were grabbed out of nowhere and you were hoisted off the ground.

-You screamed in surprise but it was cut short when a pair of soft lips connected roughly to yours. It looks like the game was over and the wolf was claiming his prize

-He didn't relent on the kiss until the room was spinning from the lack of air. Punctuated by his sharp fangs biting down onto your lip harshly before pulling away

-"That was quite a chase you put on there. But it's time for me to claim my prize, don't you think?"

- The wolf wasn't waiting for an answer as his strong hands held you firmly by the hips, riding up your dress and caresses your inner thighs and kissing on your neck

-Well, more like marking. Kisses quickly turned to teasing the sharpness of his canines against your skin before harshly nipping and sucking on your skin

-Just when you thought he was going to take it slow, he dug his claws into your thighs, forcing your legs around his waist as he used his free hand to tear away at the moist fabric between your legs.

- He definitely said some cheesy line about wanting to savor tasting you before he did just that. Hoisting you up onto his shoulders and used the tree to support you and went to work

-If he was nervous, he wasn't showing it as his tongue started to fuzz up your mind. He didn't even bother starting slow, spreading your pussy lips with his tongue and latching onto your clit

- You let out a hiccup of surprise but he didn't slow down. Sucking and teasing at the nub with his tongue before trailing down and mapping out your folds with both care and hunger

-His hot tongue poked at your entrance, moving it slightly in and out as you started to quiver from his touch. Your hands held onto his hair, practically strangling his hair to stabilize yourself

-You didn't want to give in so easily, to literally be dominated by only his tongue would be embarrassing. Even though there was no one around or an actual prize, your deer pride was on the line here

-It was common that deer and wolves mingled, and no one ever seemed to question who was the dominate party. But something about this snarky and sexy wolf who is still a stranger to you coming into your life and about to do the same to you without an introduction stirred something within you

-As much as you wanted to just give in and make a mess of his face, you held back. And he could tell

-Confused by your restraint, he lowered you and forced you to look him in the eyes

-"Just what are you doing little deer? Are you scared or something?" The smirk on his face was only adding fuel to your fire. You couldn't wait to wipe it off his face

- "Scared? Oh no, Mr. wolf, I'm not-" You giggled innocently before grabbing his dick through his pants- an easy find as he was large and hard, leaving an obvious tent in his pants

-For once, his confident demeanor vanished and he blushed deeply, his lip hanging limply. Such a bold move wasn't expected but he let out a fake cough and put on his act back on

-"Ah I see, you want all of me little deer. But are you sure you can handle me?"

- You didn't answer him but removed your hand, taking his pants by the edges and swiftly pulling them off. The wolf didn't get a word in before you grabbed him by the hips and swiftly had him sat on the ground

-With his lap and erect cock fully out, the feeling in your gut only grew. He was definitely intrigued as you straddled his lap, ignoring his size and girth as you were too determined to make him weak to you to properly care

- Positioning your tight entrance at his tip before kissing him roughly and sinking down quickly. Taking in his entire throbbing cock before you could talk yourself out of it

-The sensation of him inside of you had your eyes almost rolling. He fit way too perfectly, just the right size and curved in the right place to hit your spot with ease

- The kiss was mostly to brave yourself into taking him all in at once but now it connected you both in a long sigh of satisfaction. Looks like even he was enjoying being inside your heat

- It was heaven to be this full but you started moving, riding him slowly at first before gaining your rhythm and speed with ease

-Soon, the quiet night was filled with the sound of slapping skin, desperate pants, wet makeouts and your wet pussy singing the praises of his cock

-The ever so confident wolf was wearing a lopsided smile, his tongue hung out as you took over and rode him without assistance. Slowing down and picking up speed as you pleased

-Regardless of his protests, you would do as you wanted. Sometimes doing the opposite of what he wanted just so you could hear him whine and whimper for you

-"S-Slow down little deer-" But his request was met with a faster pace, bringing him to the edge closer. Making him all whiney and twitchy as his claws dug into your ass and hips. Trying to control your movements

-But you would bite down on his ears or neck until he eased up his grip, allowing you control the pace. Soon, both of your exposed skin was covered in teeth and claw marks. From the slow and sensual movements to the quick and desperate ones, each mark was a representation of the actions

- You didn't know how long you were teasing this wolf. Taking you both to the edge before coming back from it and repeating the cycle. Amping up the animalistic tendencies in your shared desperation to fuck and breed

- Your body was sore, mostly your pussy as you used him like your own personal toy. As you felt yourself get closer to your climax, the twitching and rutting hips of the wolf seemed to agree

- Whether there were words were exchanged didn't matter. It was silent understanding that you were going to finish this with him buried deep inside of you, letting him make a mess as he pleased

- Once again, his hands held you down by your hips, this time so firmly that you couldn't budge off. His cock buried to its depths in your heat as he jerked his hips to bury himself in deeper

-As he continued this desperate display, you could feel the base of his cock that was just past your entrance start to grow and hold you firm. His knot was forming and he didnt seem to care that he was about to fully unload into a stranger

-It didn't take long for the knot to swell completely and the sensation to send you both over the edge, your body quaking as you came and his hot cum filling you up to the brim. A chorus of pleasure and feral noises echoed into the night

-Your body trembled and twitched as he held you close, savoring your body as you both came down from the experience

-Still attached from the knot, it was a waiting game of when separation could be possible. With clear heads, you two finally spoke to each other on normal terms, despite the position you were still in

-"So... I'm Nicholas by the way."

-" Nice to meet you, I'm y/n." You said with a laugh as you two shook hands cordially.

-"I didn't know a deer could do that. Where did you pick that up from?"

-You only shrugged. "Instinct I suppose?"

-Nicholas scoffed. "Weird. I've never seen a deer with a hunters instinct. Are you sure you're full deer?"

-"Who knows? Maybe I've got some wolf in me-"

-"Well, you definitely do right now."

- You blushed and flicked his arm. "What a tease you are... So how long is this going to take to go down?"

-" A few hours at worse." He spoke so casually but made you groan.

"I cant stay out here for hours!"

-Without much thought, Nicholas once again, held you by the thighs and somehow managed to stand you both up, your arms wrapping around his neck for support

-"Lead the way to your place then little deer. No point staying out here where one of my pack could find us too."

-The thought of being caught made you shudder and you quickly agreed. Looks like you were going to be spending more time with your prize after all

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

And a part 2

[zaczenemiji]

Hello Dearest Writer! I have read the Shattered Pride that you wrote which I like it! and I hope you don't mind me requesting ^^. I wanted to request for a lil' bit angsty Kenji Sato x Reader, where kenji & reader have a heated argument that leads to reader with tears streaming down her face from kenji's hurtful words and attempted to remove her engagement ring and proposed to end things for the better and kenji got scared and regret everything he said, so he asked for forgiveness, convinced her to stay and makes it up for her. Thank you so much, Writer! I hope you have a nice day!

Second to None

Kenji Sato x Reader

Word Count: 2,076

Genre/Warning: Angst, Character Development, Drama, Established Long-Term Relationship, Heartbreak, hurt/Comfort, Redemption

Author’s Note: My works are becoming longer lately 🤧 Is that a good thing or not?

MASTERLIST | Shattered Pride

The reservation; a special menu and a gift sat neatly wrapped beside your plate. Your eyes dart to the door every few minutes, eagerly yet anxiously anticipating Kenji’s arrival.

The minutes turned into an hour, each second becoming agonizingly longer than the last. Your discomfort became noticeable to those who arrived before and after you.

Some couples came in pairs. Others also waited but the arrival of their beloveds was only half as long as the duration of your waiting.

The waiter approached with a sympathetic smile. “Would you like to order now, miss?” He asked gently.

"Not yet," you replied, forcing a smile. "He should be here any minute." You smoothed down your dress, avoiding any more contact with someone who isn’t Kenji.

“Are you on your way? Our reservation was at 7,” your message long showed as delivered, but still, no reply, and all your calls went straight to voicemail.

Your heart sank as the waiter returned, his expression more apologetic than before, "Shall I bring you a drink while you wait?"

"Yes, please," you answered, trying to mask your growing disappointment. You chose a glass of your favorite wine with Kenji, hoping the familiar taste would bring some comfort.

It was your fifth anniversary together, a milestone you had been looking forward to for weeks. Yet just like last year, it seemed like this would be a missed one too.

The first years of your relationship were pure bliss. The years that followed were less exciting but more comfortable. Yet from last year til today, some things were never the same.

At first, it felt like it was just because both of you had gotten used to each other. But as time progressed, it started seeming like your relationship was just a background—a television turned on not for the sake of watching, but for the sake of not being alone.

It started with last year’s missed anniversary; he said that it was an important out-of-town game that he couldn't skip. "I'm so sorry, the game went into extra innings and I missed the last train back. I'll be home late.”

He went home the next day.

You reminisced your first anniversary, a weekend getaway, a brief escape from your busy lives. The second, you had gone to a cozy little restaurant. The third had been a quiet dinner at home.

The fourth anniversary was marked by absence and loneliness; as this year’s. It wasn't the first time Kenji's baseball career had come between you, but you had hoped that anniversaries would be different.

You started to wonder if you would always come second to his dreams.

Another hour passed and the restaurant began to empty as the night grew older. "Kenji, I'm still here. Please call me." But still, there was no response.

Finally, your phone buzzed, "I'm so sorry, practice ran late and then we had a team meeting. I’ll try to get there as soon as I can."

You stared at the message, a tear slipping down your cheek. You heard similar apologies countless times before, each one chipping away at your patience and hope.

You signaled the waiter and asked for the check. You couldn't sit there any longer and pretend that everything was fine.

You walked out into the cool night, clutching the small gift you had brought for Kenji. The streets were quiet, the city's usual buzz dulled by the lateness of the hour.

You felt a profound loneliness, one that wasn't just about this night but about the accumulation of missed moments and broken promises.

When you finally got home, the flat was dark. You placed the untouched gift on the table and changed into more comfortable clothes.

You were too drained, emotionally, to even wait for Kenji in case he’d come over. You lay down on your bed, more than willing to sleep off the pain you just can’t get used to.

As your consciousness was being tugged to sleep, your phone buzzed again. It was Kenji, calling. And for the first time, you decided to put yourself first and slept.

Morning came and you sat at the dining table, a half-empty glass of wine in front of you. It was far too early to be drinking, but the remnants of last night's disappointment and loneliness still clung to you, and you needed something to numb the ache.

You swirled the wine in your glass, your mind replaying the evening over and over. The beautifully wrapped gift lay discarded on the coffee table.

You immediately slept last night but somehow, you hoped that Kenji would walk through the door with some grand gesture, some sign that he valued your relationship as much as she did. But he never came.

The sound of the key turning in the lock pulled you from your thoughts. Kenji walked in, looking exhausted and worn. His eyes immediately found yours, and he saw the wine glass in your hand.

"You're drinking this early?" he asked, concern laced with surprise. You didn't respond, just took another sip.

The silence was heavy, filled with all the words you wanted to say but didn't know how to begin. You set the glass down and met his gaze.

"Do you even realize what day it was yesterday, Kenji?" you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Of course, I do. I'm so sorry. Practice ran late and then there was an unexpected team meeting. I—“

"You always have an excuse,” You cut him off, your voice rising. “Do you know how many times I've heard 'practice ran late' or 'there was a meeting’? I'm tired of it!"

"I know," he said, trying to calm you down. "I really wanted to be here, but you know how important baseball is to me."

"And what about me, Kenji? Am I not important to you?" you snapped, tears welling up in your eyes. "I've sacrificed everything for you! I left my career, my family, my friends, everything to come to Japan and support you! And for what? To be stood up on our anniversary again?"

His face tightened, "It's not like that. You knew what you were getting into when you decided to come with me."

You took a step back, your voice dropping to a whisper. "So, it's my fault now?” You asked. “I chose to support you because I believed in us. But it feels like I'm the only one making sacrifices here."

"That's not fair," he retorted, frustration creeping into his tone. "I work hard for us. I'm trying to build a future for us."

"But at what cost, Kenji?" you shot back. "Every time I need you, you're not there. Every important moment, every milestone, you're always somewhere else. Do you even understand how lonely that is?"

He ran a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words, "I'm doing my best. It's just... baseball is my dream. I can't give that up."

"And what about my dreams?" you cried, your voice breaking. "I had a career I loved, a life I was proud of! I gave all that up for you, believing that you would be there for me, that we would support each other. But it feels like I'm the only one who gave anything up!”

He took a deep breath, his own anger rising. "I never asked you to give up your career!” He said. “You made that choice!”

Your eyes widened in shock and pain. "I made that choice because I loved you—because I thought we were building a life together,” you said, voice softening and heart breaking. “But it seems like I'm the only one who sees it that way."

There was a long silence as you two stared at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. Slowly, you reached for your engagement ring, your hands shaking.

"What are you doing?" Kenji asked, panic creeping into his voice.

You struggled to remove the ring, tears streaming down your face. "Maybe we're fooling ourselves, Kenji,” you said in between sobs. “Maybe this isn't working. I can't keep feeling like I'm second to your career. Maybe it's better if we end this now."

His heart raced, panic surged through him, and his voice trembled with desperation. "No, please don't," he said, stepping closer, his hands reaching out but hesitating to touch you. "I'm sorry for everything I've said. I didn't mean it. I love you, and I can't lose you."

You looked at him, the ring held loosely in your hand. "Do you really love me, Kenji?” You asked. “Or do you love the idea of me being here, waiting for you, always understanding and never complaining?"

He stepped closer, his eyes pleading. "I love you. I know I've been an idiot, and I know I haven't been there for you like I should. But I promise I'll do better. Just please, don't leave me."

His eyes filled with tears as he dropped to his knees in front of you, the weight of his regret crashing down on him. "I love you," he said, his voice breaking. "I know I've been an idiot, and I know I haven't been there for you like I should. Every time I chose baseball over you, I was wrong. I see that now.”

“Please, don't take off that ring. Don't leave me,” he pleased. “I can't imagine my life without you."

You looked down at him, your own tears blurring your vision, “How can I believe you, Kenji?"

He reached out, taking her hands in his and holding them tightly. "Because I can't bear the thought of losing you,” he said. “I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that you're the most important thing in my life. I'll talk to my coach, I'll cut back on practice—anything. Just please, give me one more chance."

You hesitated, the pain and love warring within you. His eyes were filled with genuine fear and remorse, and you could feel his hands trembling. "One more chance, Kenji,” you said. “But things have to change. I can't keep feeling like this."

He nodded fervently, pulling you into a tight embrace, his heart pounding with a mix of relief and fear. "I promise, things will change,” he said. “I'll make it up to you, I swear. I love you more than anything. Please, believe me."

The next morning, Kenji came over early and made you breakfast, a small but heartfelt gesture to start making amends. He took the morning off practice and thought of having breakfast together.

Over the next few weeks, Kenji made noticeable changes. He began to prioritize your time together, making sure to balance his demanding baseball schedule with moments that were just for you two.

One evening, as you sat on the couch watching a movie, Kenji turned to you with a serious expression, "I talked to a few people, and I found a way for you to continue your work here in Japan.”

You looked at him, curiosity and hope in your eyes, "What do you mean?"

“There are some production companies interested in meeting with you,” he said. “I want you to have your career back, to have something that's yours."

Tears welled up in your eyes, this time from gratitude and joy. "Kenji, that's... I don't know what to say. Thank you."

He took your hand, squeezing it gently. "I want you to be happy. I want us to build our lives together, supporting each other's dreams,” he said. “I'm sorry it took me so long to realize how much you were sacrificing."

True to his word, Kenji began to make your relationship a priority. He surprised you with small dates, like picnics in the park or quiet dinners at home. He even started learning a bit of Japanese cuisine to cook your favorite meals.

Kenji made it a point to never miss another important moment, attending every event and celebration that mattered to you. He cheered you on as you restarted your career, eager to see you shine.

In the end, you both learned that love required effort and compromise from both sides. It wasn't always easy, but you faced your challenges together, knowing that your love was worth fighting for. And with each passing day, you both found yourselves more deeply in love, more committed to the life you were building together.

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

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[changetyre]

Hii! If you are avaliable can you write something about carlos and max? Or can be just max it can be smut👀

Thank you already i love your fanfics!!<33

On a high II Carlos Sainz x Norris!Reader x Max Verstappen

SUMMARY: Partying after your brother's first win was always something you'd dreamed about but getting seduced by your brothers best friends wasn't something you would've ever imagined.

WARNINGS: **18+***, almost smut.

A/N: Sorry it took so long and that it's short I'm really trying to get out of a writer's block and not push myself to write more than I can.

"YES LANDON!" You laughed next to your brother as the big sign with his misspelled name, sparklers, and more bottles approached him earning the attention of the entire club as if your brother didn't have it already.

"How the fuck did they mess that up?" One of Lando's friends asked next to him.

Through the darkness, flashing lights, and the light buzz in your mind it was hard to tell who had spoken.

"CHUG CHUG CHUG!!" You saw as another bottle found its way above your brother's lips, its content being poured into his mouth. He was gonna have the biggest hangover of his life.

"I'm going to the toilet-" You said to your brother. Knowing he'd get worried if he lost sight of you despite his drunken state.

"I can come-" Lando was about to get up but stumbled as soon as he attempted.

"I'll look after her mate." The current world champion Lando was close friends with appeared out of seemingly nowhere, his arm wrapping around your waist causing a sudden warmth to pool in your lower stomach.

"Ye...yeah okay." Lando seemed satisfied enough as Max and you walked away, Max making sure you were protected from all the flailing arms and drunken bodies.

The short walk to the bathroom was daunting, you could feel Max's presence extremely close and something told you there was more behind his intentions of simply accompanying you.

Your mind would've kept spinning through the ideas of what he might be thinking if it wasn't for a second pair of eyes set on you. These eyes you knew better, having been victim to them before but who were you to resist them.

"Going somewhere?" His thick accent pierced your ears, you felt the way Max's fingers tightened on your waist slightly.

"Just need the bathroom-" You hated how weak your voice sounded but having those dark brown eyes examine you like he was ready to eat you up at any minute was more daunting than you'd remembered.

"And you need him for that?" Your breath hitched as Carlos closed the already short distance between you, his lips looked so delectable to you so close.

"She sure does." Max's voice spoke behind you reminding you of his presence as he too stepped closer, you could feel him completely as he pressed behind you.

Suddenly the need to pee had disappeared and replaced by the feeling of being small and powerless pressed between them, which you loved for some twisted reason.

"Then maybe I can lend another pair of hands?" Carlos whispered into your ear as he started trailing kisses down your neck.

You felt pathetic as a whimper quickly escaped your lips.

"What do you say, sweetheart? Wanna have some fun with us?" Max's words sounded fuzzy in your head as you reveled in the feeling of both their lips on your skin.

You felt Carlos's hand slip between your legs teasing your clothed cunt.

"Wait Lan-" It was a weak attempt at an excuse not really wanting to stop them.

"Trust me, he won't remember a single thing about tonight." Carlos laughed as Max turned your head so you could see the way Lando downed another row of shots, not a single thought behind his eyes.

You were thankful for the darkness that enveloped you as Max teased your nipples which poked hard through your shirt.

Were you really about to do this with your brother's best friends?

You looked into Carlos lust filled eyes before turning to look at Max, the same look on his face. Nodding was the confirmation the boys needed as they rushed you through the back door of the club ready to have you wholly. You'd worry about the possible consequences tomorrow.

[back2bluesidex]

Slide - The Finale - MYG (18+)

Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!Reader 

Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?

Word count: 0.5k+

Summary: 

"I can see the pain in your eyes I don't wanna say that I'm God, but I'll take you to heaven if you die" 

Alternatively, 

Tonight when he kisses you, it’s not a goodbye, rather it’s a promise of forever.

Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics

Warnings: Smut, fluff

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: And it's the curtain call time. Thanks to every single one of you for showering Slide with so so so much of love. Writing this has been fun for me but I know reading this was nothing short of a torture to you guys. But still you read it till the very end - nothing can mean more to a writer. Thanks a ton! that's it for Slide series.

Now-a-days when Yoongi touches you - you feel a difference. 

You wish you were capable of using better words, better adjectives but what you can feel is that his touches are purer, more profound, filled with an emotion that was missing before - maybe love? 

It feels so good. It feels the best. 

“Y/N” Yoongi murmurs your name against your collarbone, placing the sweetest kisses ever known to mankind. His hair tickles the skin of your throat - you giggle. 

His lips trace the map of your chest, wrapping them around your nipples with constant suck and flicks. Your toes curl as a result. 

Yoongi’s fingers slip past the waistband of your underwear, touching you at places where you have granted only him full access. 

“Y/N” he whispers again “I love you so much” 

Some two months ago you two were at the same place. He made love to you but as a good-bye note. He said sorry with every kiss. 

Today, though, he says he loves you with every move of his lips. 

You thank every god above there for this transition. You thank Yoongi, too, silently. 

He slips inside you, rugged breath ornamenting his thrusts. You want to frame him like this - so beautiful with beads of sweat on his temple, his hair sticking to his forehead, your name spilling from his lips. 

Oh, you love him. You love him so much.

“I love you so fucking much.” Yoongi replies to your silent confession and you are convinced he can read your mind. 

You pull him close to steal a kiss. 

Tonight when he kisses you, it’s not a goodbye, rather it’s a promise of forever. 

“She is really pretty.” You whisper-yell at Yoongi, staring at Namjoon’s bride as she walks down the aisle. 

Yoongi doesn’t reply anything to you right away. He seems to think of something. And then opens his mouth but shuts it again. After a moment he places his mouth right beside your ear, “but I think you will be the prettiest bride.” 

Your breath hitches. Is that.. Is that what you think it is? 

When you risk a glance at Yoongi, you find him already staring at you. A small smile is playing on his lips but his eyes are shining. 

Yoongi holds your hand under the table. Suddenly you are afraid and excited all together. 

“I am not asking you for anything right now, Y/N. But I guess- I guess we could try. When I think of a future with you it doesn’t seem too scary. It seems to be promising, quiet, and peaceful. So if you ever see fit.. We could, you know, you and I..” his words falter. 

You hold his hand tightly. Gulping once you ease his fears, “Let’s try. Let’s try when both of us are completely ready and sure.” 

Yoongi nods with a gummy smile, “yes. Yes.” 

“I love you.” You whisper. 

“I love you more.” Yoongi confirms, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

Alongside Namjoon and his bride, you and Yoongi, too, say “I do” to all the vows that have already bound you two together, hopefully for the rest of your lives. 

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[zorosnavigator]

Timebomb fics rec

A lot of timebomb fics are hiding through a lot of CaitVi/JayVik tagged works on ao3 (while many are also CV orJV centric) so i made this rec post for everyone who dont want to spent 1 hour scrolling or missing some of them bc you're filtering other ships!! (sorry for the short summaries/ i didnt write my thoughts as thoughtfully as i would have liked because.yk.time and all. update chapter count/add of new fics every week)

AU/crossovers fics

Je t'aime (Je t'attends) 3 chapter, WIP.

Hunger games x Timebomb/Arcane, the way the system of the games from the og novels are mixed in the Arcane universe is really masterful, the writer dont lose too much time explaining it but you understand the dynamics of the 2 cities and the characters perfectly anyway.

Where would you be now ? by enaven 5/6 chapters, WIP.

family/modern AU, timebomb feels, Ekko and Jinx are Isha's parents, CaitVi are just silly aunts and i'll never stop recommending this fic

you're the best thing to ever happen to me (but also the worst thing to ever happen to me) by grey_toiletpaper ( @greytoiletpaper ) 3/8 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

Timebomb inspired by 10 things i hate about you.

We Moved Into a Real House (a Wild Field Behind it) by smokesatellite 3/10 chapters. WIP. Rated T.

Modern AU, Timebomb roommates/friends to lovers, Isha is a foster kid...you know where this is going .. (Ekko as a nurse is not something i expected but its surprisingly good. Also the in law feud between Jinx and Cait is very funny)

s1 fics

Silco is less of an asshole

The Heart of Zaun by 1ts_Br1tney_B1tch 8/ chapters. WIP.

or: Silco try to rally the Firelights to his cause (in this case, Zaun - he's much more involved in doing better for his city than in the show) but of course they're bound to have some..tension between them, since they hate him - and Shimmer. (it has the good parent Silco tag so i'd say that all in all, this Silco is a little less...Silco than in Arcane, but manage to keep some of the bite he has in canon...) i only read 2 chapters, and what i can say is that it does a good job with the general cast, the interactions between Silco/Ekko-Firelights are believable, i think the one thing that could have weird me out is the way Silco is said to be 'proud' of the Firelights in the summary (for me 'pride' is something he'd reserve for Jinx yk?? anyway i stop the rambling) . The Timebomb relationship has more or less the same push and pull as in the show, with Ekko thinking about the girl Jinx used to be/ Ekko being a link to the past before Jinx and all that entail...so yeah, i'm loving it!

Powder doesnt become Jinx

The Alpha Command by typewriter_in_galaxy 13 chapters. WIP. Rated E.

ABO/Reverse AU where Powder doesnt become Jinx and is raised by Viktor, Ekko is taken in by Silco. btw i dont read a lot of abo fic (im very nickpick) but this one does every characters justice, and actually dwelve in depth in the abo universe.. (everything by typewriter is good to be honest, but my favorite thing is how they write Powder, who even when she doesnt become Jinx, is still shaped by a very violent world/trauma and it shows through her mental health issues and very, very low self worth/need to prove herself. )

everything's better with a friend by typerwriter_in_galaxy 7chapters. Completed. Rated E.

Timebomb centric rewrite of Arcane, Jinx is Powder, she doesnt fall under Silco's hand (or in his arms precisely), Ekko is Ekko, and 1, i need to hug Powder, 2 she deserves the world and 3 the characterization of everyone, everyone is so brillantly written and the timebomb relationship (damn even the CaitVi one too) oh, the timebomb of it all... they feel so, so real and it hurts, Powder's insecurities, her mental illness, her guilt, her need to prove herself but in same time she doesnt feel herself worth of anything (or anyone) good... just.read it. read it, because i just did, after like 2 years of not doing that and. im like mad bc why didnt i??? but in same time so grateful to just discover it now, taking my sweet little time reading it; it rewinded my brain its amazing, (like this work in another fandom, the first time i read this rebelcaptain's fic A Love song by skitzofreak - did i just linked it for you to read even tho its a timebomb rec post??? yes. yes i did. thats how much i love, adore, worship this one guys - so everything's better made me think a lot of this TB fic, and also of RC (the abandonment issues, thinking that you have to leave first before everyone leave you, Jyn and Powder damn).

Shattered Web by Firewolf2132 1 chapter. WIP. Rated M.

you know how everyone make the comparaison between Ekko and Miles?? well, the author found a way for Ekko transform into a spiderman that feels right in the arcane verse (end of act1) and damn its so good. Ekko slowly morphing and gaining his powers while everyone still have some focus on them (mostly Powder), but it still manages to keep the suspense of the fate of other characters. fabulous. author note: [I have seen so many comparisons between Ekko and Miles and a lot of fanart. So it felt that I had to do this. I can't promise future chapters right now (busy), but I am eager to see if this inspires any stories with a similar premise.]

S2 fanfics

fics covering Timebomb moments between ep 8 Ekko saving her /they painted each other and ep9

Go Back For Her by A_Lily_In_The_Moonlight 3/3 chapters. Completed. Rated E.

Ekko's pov -i only read 1 chapter - we see his thought's process on his relationship with Powder AU/ Jinx, and how he came to the conclusion he must go back to her. the moment where he help Jinx with his Z-drive comes a little differently than in ep8 (well, the aftermath) aaand another fic where Jinx's grief over Isha's death shatters me, the pain and the self loathing/blaming from Jinx really devastating.

I dont believe in God, but i believe you're my savior by mquesterminds One shot. Rated T

[summary: every time Ekko has to rewind time to stop Jinx it cuts to a different moment from throughout their love story because I'm allergic to happiness the moments covering their shared past really make their present 10 times sadder.]

I'm sure we're taller in another dimension by hallwayheart One shot. Rated M. i have nothing to say because i'm still processing what i just read.ty.

Fires That Were Set by ilophilia ( @ilophilia on tumblr) 1 chapter. WIP.

the conversation after Ekko helped Jinx in episode 8. Loved the banter, the emotions (the grief is there and its important to feel it but damn i want to hug them so bad). They tell each other what happened when Ekko was gone, and you feel the distance/the closeness, near intimacy building again and its beautiful..

Hope is a winged beast by Grey_ Unicorn 4 chapters. WIP. Rated E.

prepare you tissues because i was myself not ready for chapter 3 and the emotional wreck of Jinx processing her grief. but here we are.

fics from AU Powder pov/exchange between Jinx and AU Powder

what we left behind by re_dragon_rising 3/3 chapters. Completed. Rated T.

Powder traverses to the og arcane universe 1 year after Ekko's visit. (the insight into her life after Ekko leaves is wholesome and also give the reader a glimpse of the Mylo/Claggor/Powder siblings dynamics + the impact of Vi's death on them. really great. a little sad too.)

The other Ekko by GrammarThyEnemy Oneshot. General audience.

Powder knows this Ekko is not her Ekko.

memento vivere by fuwaaa 1/2. WIP. General audience.

covering the AU episode, Powder knows something's up with Ekko.

See Ya On The Other Side by moth_dust 3/5 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

Powder also travel to the og universe.

these forgotten faces by whippindippin ( @whippindippin on tumblr too!) 6 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

Jinx and Powder body swap and its both the worst and best thing that could ever happen to either of them. great reading and their reaction on point.

Isha is alive

Astrantia by AelinCreativ ( @aelincreativ they're on tumblr too!) 5 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

canon divergence where Ekko saves Isha. a lot of angst. but also a lot of happiness. so we can cry while smiling along with them. great. ty author!!

Ankle-Biter by darkfire1220 8/9 chapters, WIP. Rated M.

Isha is Jinx's biological daughter, Silco is a not so bad (grand) father, and their mother/daughter bond is one a the greatest thing ever. (very slowburn timebomb). Also Vi. i love you Vi.

post s2

we made our peace with weariness (and let it be) by The_FlamingTiger 3/3 chapters. Completed. Rated M.

Ekko and Jinx reconnect in Bilgewater..(and Jinx goes to therapy. that too. its nice)

I don't believe in God (But I believe that you're my savior) by yeonatsu Oneshot, general audience.

Ekko is mourning.

this hunger for love won’t disappear by Amuria Oneshot, rated T.

Months after the battle for Piltover, Ekko begins to dream of Powder. He thinks it’s his grief playing tricks on him. She has different theory.

Francesca (Do You Think I'd Give Up?) by PoetProlific 2 chapters. WIP.

Ekko tries searching for Jinx...(with the help of Caitlyn, yep. and its well done, because I think Cait would help, for Vi. And i love how Ekko-Cait's dynamics might evolve because of this..)

So I met him there and told him I believe by ijustwanttoreadinpeace 3 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

Jinx begins a new life in Bilgewater but is forced to come back... (edit: be warned, this is now an orphan account so idk if there will be more chapters.)

all the 6 timebomb one shot by atabex (the other fics are not timebomb) they're all rated E and oh boy is it worth it. most of these oneshot are gut wrenching and do smut + characters so well... the most recent one is just Ekko and AU Powder ahem doing the boombayah on the rooftop, but yk, with bits of sad and tragedy here and there.

i'm a little ashamed i'm only adding it now but every TB os fics by @shroomystar is 🤌 nothing else to add because each one of them are good. so. (if you want the explicit one-shots it's here and if you prefer without, it's here )