#i'm sorry if i haven't gotten to your ask yet i'm working on it! LOVE YOU!!

[amethystfairy1]

Hello there! I've just come from ao3 and I've spent basically the entirety of the last two days reading the entirety of TTSBC, *inhale* AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH OH MY GOSH YOU'RE AN INCREDIBLE WRITER YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I'VE ENJOYED READING THIS AND ALSO THERE'S SO MUCH OF IT!!!

Seriously the fact that you manage to write so much and so well is incredibly impressive and I really admire you for it

Also I don't know how to bring across how much I LOVE your worldbuilding. It's one of my favourite things to pick up on as a story progresses, and the world you've created is so vivid and facinating and beautiful

Also I feel the need to grumble a teensy tiny bit about the cliffhanger with Grian- sorry, CuteGuy- getting injured becuase that was evil. I mean he was shot?? By whom??? It's probably thanks to that new head of Council (what was his name?)

Literally obsessed with Flower Husbands btw, their relationship is so sweet, and I've loved watching them progress from pining crushes to early relationship and having to work around the things that they don't know/understand to living together and slowly working out their issues (excited to see Scott's skeletons being tackled more btw) and being so cute and the poppy earrings and the trip to the undercity and the constant reassurances and- *wails distantly* It's so good.

And while we're in a ranting mood, how about Treebark and how Martyn (mirroring Scott) wanted more but didn't pressure Ren with anything because he understood he needed time and also (again mirroring Scott) decided he wanted to put the dagger down and give Ren all the roses. How he tried so hard to keep it together when he literally stumbled across the undercity and spontaneously had to (didn't technically, he chose to) go through the whole "meeting the (terrifying) family thing" because it was important to Ren. How Ren's first instinct was to protect him, even though he really didn't know how Martyn would react, and he was so scared it would be bad, and-

Or I could ramble on about Doc and Etho and how beautiful their relationship is, with all the crazy things they manage and do from day-to-day, and their darling Pesky Birds and Little Spark. There's a very unique feeling I get when I read how their early days in the depths were, it's so heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time, and I can't help but love it.

Or I could give you a paragraph about Grian and Scar and how their secrets and double lives unravelled, albeit messily in places, and how now there's just love, even though they haven't said it out loud (ahem, evil, evil cliffhanger) yet, and working around their differences and struggles, and cookies, and the coffee that Scar makes them in the mornings, and the shiny three-ringed binder, and-

I could go on about the under-city, this world under the surface, both dangerous and beautiful. Or Grian, Pearl and Jimmy and how much they mean to each other, absolute chaos and unwavering support. Or our wonderful, loving, chaotic family of six (yes, six, Tango for the love of god you're part of it too even if your relationship with them looks different), Tango and Zed and their issues that they probably really need get sorting out, Cleo and Bdubs (gods that one where they met healed and broke me in equal measure), the Empires Family (they're so dear to me), Nature Wives(I loved how they met), etc, etc, etc.

I could keep going, but I won't in this already super long ask (sorry about that by the way, wasn't really intended). I may rant in the future, if you'd like to hear it

Needless to say, the brainrot has gotten to me and I'd like it to stay please and thank you.

Sorry again for how incredibly long this turned out to be, but I hope it fulfills it's purpose and brings you joy <3 Have a good timezone!

Oh my stars thank you thank you! I'm so glad you enjoy my work so much I love the rambles! It's always so cool to me to see what parts of my stories stand out to people! Please never apologize for the rambles!!!

[killiaia]

Sorry

Rosé x male reader, 2.6K words

TW : Anal, Ass play, Daddy Kink, breeding kink, sex on camera, slut kink, name kink, make it up sex.

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

Rosé panics. You don't answer her messages. Since her supposed affair with Bruno Mars, the young woman hasn't heard from you. 

To tell the truth, it's all just a musical collaboration. But the messages left by the singer on Rosé's Instagram account and her Instagram stories have gotten the better of you. 

You've buried your head in work and ignored Rosé's messages. Even the members of Blackpink tried to reach you, but to no avail.

But this morning, as you're getting ready at the barracks, one of your recruits comes to pick you up. 

"Chief, we have someone for you at the entrance. ".

"Who is it? "You ask in surprise. 

"Blackpink Rosé."

"Damn it. " You sigh. "Tell her I'm not here. "

"I already told her you were here. " Says the soldier. "I don't want to interfere, chief, but she was crying. " 

"I'll be going now, you're dismissed." 

The soldier doesn't hesitate and leaves the room. You take a deep breath and leave the room, heading for the front door. You feel the gazes of the other soldiers on you, but you hold your head high and ignore them. 

As you leave the barracks, you spot Rosé. The young woman's eyes are red and one of the soldiers standing guard gives her a handkerchief. Rosé gives him a sad smile and your heart sinks. You hate seeing her cry and knowing that you're the cause makes you hate yourself.

You tell the two soldiers to leave and find yourself alone with Rosé. You want to say something, but Rosé speaks with you.

"I love you. There's only you, there's only been you. I know that with the messages and the storys it looked suspicious, but it was all a musical collaboration. I won't do it again. The girls even yelled at me. "finished Rosé with a nervous chuckle.   

"I'm sorry I ignored you. "You say stupidly. "I should have answered you. The girls sent me messages too, Jennie tried to call me but... well you see. "

Rosé nods. She wants to say something but you cut her off.

"I'm going away for two weeks. "

You see Rosé's chin tremble but you reassure her.

"It's just a routine mission. Scouting and helping the forces in the field." 

"Yes.." says Rosé softly. 

"I've got to go. "You say. "Come here so I can hold you. " 

Rosé doesn't wait and throws herself at you. You hold her tight and kiss the top of her head. The young woman raises her head, grabs your face and kisses you. You kiss back and squeeze her ass. Rosé moans and you end the kiss. 

"I promise when you return I'll make it up to you. " 

"Rosie..." 

"Please. I want to make it up to you." 

You nod and, after one last kiss, head back towards the barracks. Halfway there, you turn and say

"I love you, Roseanne. " 

You don't give her time to answer and leave. You haven't left yet, but you can't wait to get back.

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

You're finally back from your mission and you're exhausted. You weren't able to reply to Rosé, but that didn't stop her from sending you a few messages. 

You had to hide because the messages were so obscene. Rosé set the bar high. Rosé started off soft. A few sexy photos in skirt and bra, then the young woman sent a few photos in underwear and pink lingerie. And that's when you thought two weeks was a long time.

Then the Blackpink member sent you some nude photos with a nice view of her breasts and then her pussy. Then the young lady sent you some photos of her ass. 

You were already at the limit, but Rosé pushed it even further. Just as you had a day off, you received a video from Rosé. 

"Hi my love. "Says a completely naked Rosé in the video." I miss you so much and it misses you so much too," says Rosé, pointing to her pussy, "that I decided to send you a little present. " 

Rosé turns her back to the camera and bends over very slowly, giving you a view of her long legs and especially her ass. 

Gently Rosé spreads her buttocks and a magnificent view of her hole is presented in front of you. 

"I miss your cock in my ass baby. I can't wait for you to come back and put it in me. "

Gently Rosé climbs onto all fours on the bed and wiggles her ass.

"Remember when you fucked me in the ass backstage at a concert?" 

Of course you remember, it was in Australia and her parents were in the audience.

Slowly Rosé pulls out a bottle of lube and applies it to his ass and hole. You're captivated by the sight of her ass and pussy. Rosé winks at the camera and after applying lube, the young woman inserts a finger into her ass.

"Fuuuck!" moans Rosé. 

She moves her finger in and out and the young woman picks up the pace. 

"I love it but I prefer it when it's your cock. " 

Rosé picks up the pace and her other hand stimulates her clit. The young woman shrieks with pleasure. 

"I imagine it's your finger. I imagine it's both of us backstage at the concert. " 

Rosé inserts a second finger into her ass and the young woman shrieks with pleasure. 

"When you come back..." says Rosé, her voice trembling with desire. "I want you to fuck my ass and pussy.  I want you to fuck me so hard I can't walk. " 

Rosé picks up the pace. The young woman orgasms and collapses on the bed. Breathing shakily, Rosé slowly turns towards the camera. The young Australian sits up and spreads her legs. 

"Now for the main course. " 

Rosé licks her fingers and spreads the folds of her pussy. 

"All wet for you. I've been fingering myself thinking about you for two weeks now. "

Rosé traces the lines of her pussy and begins to touch her clit. 

"Remember the first time you ate my pussy baby?" Rosé asks. "Because I do." Rosé continues, stroking her clit.

"I'd been taunting you for weeks. Whenever you came near me, I'd stick my ass right up to you. "Jennie said I was crazy when you found me naked in your shower. But I remember what happened next, my love. You grabbed me, bent me over the sink and ate my pussy. “

"Come back soon, I need you to take care of my holes. " 

Rosé is on the verge of orgasm, the young woman knows, and her fingers are moving back and forth so fast you can hear the sound of her wet pussy. 

"I'm going to cum so much. Just for you and when you come again, you're going to fuck me so hard I'll be even more addicted to your cock. Oh God, I'm cumming." 

The young Australian orgasms so hard that her pussy juices fall onto the bed. Rosé drops back, leaving a magnificent view of her pussy. Breathing hard, Rosé straightens up and flashes a smile at the camera. The Blackpink member stands up, legs trembling and pussy soaked. Gently Rosé shows her pussy to the camera. 

"See you soon, my love. "

-----------

And now you're back in your apartment. You open your door and freeze when you see the work of art in front of you. 

Rosé is standing in front of you, wearing a bright pink lingerie ensemble. The bra lifts her breasts and the thong she's wearing has a slit for a glimpse of her pussy. 

"Hello my love. "Makes Rosé. "Do you like my outfit? "

You can't string a word together, the view in front of you is so magnificent. You put your things down and slowly approach the Australian. You don't even dare touch her, as if she were a fragile work of art. 

"Touch me, baby. "Orders Rosé 

You can't wait any longer and you grab Rose's face and kiss her full on the lips. You insert your tongue into her mouth and lift her up. Instinctively, Rosé wraps her legs around your waist. With your hands you grab her ass and squeeze. Rosé stifles a moan in your mouth and it takes enormous self-control not to just fuck her now. 

Still kissing her, you take her to the bed. You throw her on the bed and don't give her time to respond as you kiss her again. Your cock in your pants is so tight. 

You break the kiss and go for her breasts. You unhook her bra and go for one of her nipples. You lick, you bite, you leave Rosé no chance to protest. With your other hand, you massage her other breast.  

After your assault on her breasts, you straighten up and look at Rosé overwhelmed by pleasure.

"Spread your legs. I'm going to eat your pussy," you say.

You say, "Please. "Rosé begs.

The young woman spreads her legs and you're greeted with a view of her pussy. You waste no time and race to lick her clit. 

"OH MY GOD. "Screams Rosé.

You lick like it's your last meal. You go lower and lick the folds of her pussy before inserting your tongue into her hole. 

With your hand, you stimulate her clit. Your tongue moves back and forth in her hole and Rosé pushes your head against her pussy. You lick her pussy lengthwise and suck her clit. 

"Do it again. "Rosé orders. 

You listen to her and suck her clit again. You insert a finger into her pussy and move back and forth. 

The double pleasure of your finger and tongue makes Rose scream with pleasure. 

"I'm going to come! I'm going to cum so hard! "

You feel Rosé's pussy spraying you with juice. You continue your attack on her clit and the young woman trembles with pleasure.

You finish with a big lick of her pussy and stand up. Rosé is red with pleasure. 

"I love you. "Rosé says. 

"I love you too. "You reply.

"That was so good. " 

"Oh my love, it was only the first one. "You reply. "Get on all fours, now I'm going to eat your ass." 

"Oh my god. "Rosé replies, getting down on all fours. 

"Spread your ass. Your hands need to stay there. " 

Rosé spreads her ass and you get a great view of her hole. Slowly, you deposit kisses on each of her buttocks and the young woman shivers with pleasure.  Without warning, you start to stimulate her clit with your hand and your tongue begins to lick her asshole.

"It's...so...good..." the Australian articulates with difficulty.

You continue to lick her asshole and Rosé moves her buttocks to get more friction. You punish her with a slap on the ass.

"don't move. " 

Rosé listens to you and you resume the oral assault on her hole. 

"Spread even more. " 

Rosé listens to you again and this time you force your way into her hole with your tongue. 

"I love it when you eat my ass."

Your hand leaves her clit and you insert one of your fingers into her pussy. Your tongue in her ass and your finger in her pussy, Rosé loses her mind. 

"I fucking love you Daddy. " 

Excited by the nickname, you pick up the pace and Rose screams your name. 

"Cum Rosé.  Cum on my fingers and tongue. " 

"OH GOD. " shouts the young woman, trembling. 

You feel her two holes tighten around your tongue and fingers. Completely exhausted, the young woman collapses on the bed. You let out a little laugh and kiss her bottom.You kiss her back and kiss the back of her neck. 

"Hello. "Rosé says gently. 

"Hello my love. " 

"Can you tell I'm a good girl Daddy?" 

"You're a good girl. You're my good girl baby. "

"Kiss me," Rosé asks almost shyly.

You brush her hair away from her face and kiss her cheek, turning her head to kiss her. 

"It's not over yet baby. Now I'm going to fuck your ass and pussy, okay? " 

"Yes daddy. Start by fucking my ass please. " 

"Sure, need some lube baby?" 

"No. Fuck my ass." 

His desires are orders. You take off your pants and underwear. Rosé doesn't need to move, lying on your stomach you spread his buttocks and press the tip of your cock to his hole. 

"I'm going in slow baby. " 

"Yeah go ahead Daddy. "

Gently, you don't want to hurt her, you push your cock into her ass. You feel Rose stiffen but you keep going. 

"You okay baby?"

"Keep going daddy. "

You listen to her and push your cock halfway in and Rose moans.  This encourages you and you start thrusting in and out of her hole. At first slowly, you increase the pace and Rose starts moaning louder and louder. 

"Go ahead Daddy. " 

With a big lick, you insert your cock into the Aussie's ass. 

"Oh my god YES. FUCK MY ASSHOLE DADDY. "

Excited by Rose's words, you increase the pace. Fully stretched out on top of her, you pill her. 

"Pull my hair Daddy. "

You do as she says, grabbing her hair and continuing to pound her.

"Do you like it, Rosé? You like my cock in your ass? " 

"I love it. My ass is all yours. Kiss me baby. "

You kiss her full on the lips and Rose moans. Rose a kiss kink. She loves to be kissed when she's penetrated. 

You pick up the pace and Rose helps you by moving her ass. You straighten up and grab her ass. You massage her buttocks and continue to plow her. 

"I love having your cock inside me so much. Am I a good girl Daddy?"

"Yes, baby. You're a good girl. You take me so well. Your ass is made for me. "

Rosé moans your name and the young woman slides her hand under her body to touch her clit.  Rosé stimulates her clit and tightens her ass on your cock. 

"I'm going to cum. "

"Go ahead, cum for me. " 

"Oh god."

You feel her ass squeeze your cock and her legs tremble. Rosé lets out an animalistic moan and the young woman arches her back. You pull your cock out of her ass and kiss your girlfriend's back.  The third orgasm is powerful for the young woman. 

Gently, you approach her ear and whisper. 

"A fourth and final orgasm my love? " 

"Yes. I want your load inside me. "

You help her turn around and the young woman presents you with her crotch. You straighten up and align your cock with her entrance. 

"Go ahead, fuck me. Fuck me, I'm your slut. "

That's all it took for you to thrust your cock into Rosé. 

"Fuck me, cum in me. "

Excited by the young woman's words, you penetrate her like an animal. The young woman raises her legs and grabs them. 

"Touch your fucking clit. "you tell her.

Rosé listens and stimulates her clit. You penetrate Rose so hard that the bed creaks and almost moves out of place.

"Keep going, fucking breed me."

You didn't think you could go any faster, but Rosé's words make you pick up the pace. Rosé tightens her pussy walls around your cock and you continue to penetrate her beautiful pussy.

"I'm going to come, I'm so going to cum. Cum with me Daddy. " 

You put Rosé's legs on your shoulders and the young woman accelerates the movements of her hand on her clitoris. You see Rosé stick out her tongue and you can't help but kiss her. You bite her tongue and that's the last straw for the idol. Rosé comes for the fourth time and you can't stop fucking her. You follow her into her orgasm a few seconds later and you've filled her. 

Breathless, you collapse on top of her and Rose takes the opportunity to kiss you all over the face.

"I feel so full. I love you so much. "

"I love you too baby girl. "

Rosé looks into your eyes and you think she's beautiful. You're so lucky to have Rosé as your girlfriend.

[trblsvt]

for the books | jeon wonwoo

summary | wonwoo's students seemed intent on matching him up with a fellow teacher. he didn't really want to stop them, it was too funny for him to break up their fun. plus, he didn't mind the certain someone he was being "set up" with. genre | fluff, teacher!au warnings | none, i think let me know! word count | 2.2k words pairing | jeon wonwoo x fem!reader min | lowercase intended i literally put off my other works to write this! delulu era to the max! i advocate for women in stem!!! also! this is like an american high school-level setting. lily is so out of pocket LOL (believe it or not there is a girl just like her at my school). this was 100% self-indulgent

"mr. jeon!" his student lily called. "so you're telling me that after all that, she still hasn't kissed him?" he looked up from his desk and looked over to his obviously distraught student. "lily! i didn't even finish it yet!" her friend mina yelled at her.

"i'm sorry! it's just so crazy how they didn't even kiss! even after they made up and he said all of that to her!" lily huffed.

"what did he say to her? i haven't gotten there yet either," daniel piped in.

"just read it! i'm sorry i brought it up in the first place," lily sighed and pulled out the worksheets she was supposed to complete after reading the book. he shook his head and went back to inputting grades into his computer. it was silly to think lily was just going to do her work. "mr. jeon, do you have a girlfriend?" she asked putting her pencil down. he paused momentarily, fingers hovering over the keyboard. "dude, that's so not cool for you to ask mr. jeon," daniel complained.

"what? we're reading this romantic novel, is it not fair to ask our english teacher if he's in a relationship?" lily replied, crossing her arms. "i mean we have to be reading this book for some reason."

"maybe it's just a part of the curriculum," mina rolled her eyes.

"do you seriously think mr. jeon is sending us subminimal signals about his love life through the books we're reading?" daniel asked.

"i don't know! maybe!" lily said. the three of them continued to argue back and forth at their table. wonwoo should probably stop this before the other students get irritated with the trio. "guys, i can assure you, i am not sending any messages about my love life. please get back to your work," wonwoo cleared his throat. he heard a disappointed noise, but pencils went back to scratching and pages started flipping again. soon it was the end of the class period and everyone was packing up. it was just lily. "next time, please refrain from asking personal questions in class," he asked.

"yes, of course. i'm sorry mr. jeon," lily bowed her head.

"it's alright. it can just be a bit distracting for your classmates. let's try to be more considerate."

"will do," she said, turning on her heel.

"oh and lily, just between me and you," wonwoo paused. "i don't have a girlfriend."

"he said he wasn't in a relationship!" lily cheered. daniel stared at her baffled, "didn't he say not to tell anyone?"

"yeah, but i mean, he must know that i'm going to tell you guys. you guys don't seem as nearly as excited about this as i do."

"why would we be? he's single, it's not like you have a chance with him or something," mina commented.

"no! ew! i would never try to go after a teacher, are you crazy? i'm saying that this is a perfect opportunity for us to get mr. jeon a date!" lily practically squealed.

"a date? with who?"

"with miss ___, of course! who else? haven't you guys ever noticed that they spend almost every lunch period with each other? they're so cute together!"

"maybe they're just planning classes or something," daniel shrugged.

"um, hello? mr. jeon teachers english literature and miss ___ teaches physics b. what would they planning together?"

"touché."

"i think it's time to enact a master plan."

"so everyone understands this equation, right?" you said, turning back to face the class. "tell me now, so i can help. this equation is the very foundation to magnetism, if you don't get it now i can't promise you'll do well in this unit."

no one put their hand up. you smiled, "oh well, i guess we just have a bunch of physic masters in this class. but seriously, let me know if you need help. you can start working on your homework packet now, this way if you have questions you can ask them now. i don't need your frantic emails at midnight."

you returned to your desk and flipped through some lesson plans. you didn't get to finish eating lunch today, so you took out your lunch bag. a small slip of paper fell out of it and onto the ground. you smiled to yourself and reached down to pick it up. "miss ___!" your student lily said, she was standing at the foot of your desk.

"yes, lily?" you answered.

"i have a question about something."

"have at it."

"it isn't physics related though." you looked up, slipping the slip into your pocket. "then, what's it about? do you need to go to the nurse?" you frowned.

"no it's nothing like that, but i was told by another teacher not to ask questions like this in front of the whole class. he said it was inconsiderate," she shrugged.

"oh, um, well i guess you can go ahead."

"are you friends with mr. jeon?"

you froze. mr. jeon? as in english literature teacher mr. jeon? mr. jeon you eat lunch with him every day mr. jeon? maybe they started picking up on something. "well, yeah, i guess you could say that," you coughed. "why are you asking this all a sudden?"

"well, i came by mr. jeon's class before lunch to ask him about an assignment and i saw you there. i didn't want to interrupt, but i didn't know you guys were friends," she shrugged, averting her eyes.

"oh well, yes. mr. jeon started at his position around the same time i did a few years ago. so we got close because of that."

"that's so- i mean, i'm sorry to pry. i was just curious. i mean usually i don't see english teachers and physics teachers talk that much. thanks!"

the whole exchange left you a little baffled.

lily seemed determined to get you and wonwoo together. she began to pry more often and she was getting bolder one question at a time. she even asked if you were in a relationship and if you got you cute gifts for birthdays and holidays from your boyfriend. sometimes she got very bold and mentioned mr. jeon by name. "miss ___, don't you think mr. jeon is cute? you two would be so cute together." you had replied, "i don't think this is time or the place to talk about this, lily. please do your practice problems." you rolled your eyes, "i don't feel like i'm at liberty to answer that."

you couldn't bring yourself to actually discipline her or her friends (who had seemingly joined in on the deep dive about your love life). they were curious teenagers looking for gossip. hell, you were like that too. you felt it would be unfair to punish them for that, as long as it didn't get too inappropriate, you didn't mind. it was a bit endearing too.

you just had to push the thought out of your mind. it was time to go to lunch anyway. it was the perfect time to clear your head.

"has lily been asking you some personal questions lately?" wonwoo asked, leaning back in his chair. god, he looked so handsome today. his glasses, pressed shirt, and ironed pants. "yes, has she been causing a raucous here too?" you asked, taking a seat at one of the desks.

"well, she asked me if i think you're beautiful," he chuckled.

you paused. you would be lying if you said you didn't feel anything for the man sitting in front of you. he was smart and kind.

"of course, i told her you are a lovely human being inside and out, and to get back to doing her project."

"funny, she was telling me that she and her friends thought we'd make a cute couple." he laughed at that, and it made your chest flutter. you loved his laugh. "cute couple, that's so cute," he gasped.

"yeah i know right. who knew our students would start trying to set us up," you joked. he nodded in agreement getting up after his microwave went off from the other side of the room. "it would be so funny if they actually succeeded, but it does seem a bit pointless at this point, right?" he noted.

"yeah, totally pointless," you agreed.

you and wonwoo, being set up, by your students of all people. it sure would be for the books if it happened like that.

what an absurd idea.

the rest of the week went as usual, uneventful, but you did get to see wonwoo on the way out of the building and into the parking lot. he held his leather bag in his right hand. "on the way out today?" he asked. "don't you usually do tutoring sessions after school on fridays?"

"we just started a unit, and no one showed up after the fifteen-minute window. i'm out of here," you laughed. he smiled. you loved it when he smiled. "want to walk out together then?" he offered and pushed the door open for you. something about him was so calming and comforting. you smiled and averted your gaze to the floor. even after all these years, he made you a little nervous. you did miss the way he grinned when he caught your shy smile. he loved the way you smiled too. he couldn't wait to see it again, he needed to see it again as soon as possible. he was too lost in thought about the way you smile and the way your voice sounds, that he fell far behind you. "___, wait up," he called as you made your way through the faculty parking lot. he jogged to catch up to you and reached out to grab your hand.

"i swear i saw him kiss her out in the parking lot," daniel insisted. "they were holding hands too!" at this point, lily was totally unmotivated to get her two favorite teachers together. not after miss ___ shut her down on numerous occasions and mr. jeon was just as friendly but unbothered as ever giving his most PG answers. "whatever, daniel," lily huffed. "they would be so perfect together."

"he's literally telling you that they're together, he saw them kissing!" mina exclaimed. lily rolled her eyes. they were all hallucinating just to make themselves feel better that it was wishful thinking. "true love isn't real!" she cried.

"it's time to wake up, sweetheart," he mumbled. "you said you had lots of work to do today."

"yeah, well it's my day off too. i'll get to work later," his fiancé groaned.

"oh come on, i know you're desperate to do all that paperwork," he teased. he tugged on the warm body text to him to pull it closer to him. he loved waking up with his wonderful, beautiful, smart fiancé next to him.

he loved waking up next to you.

he knew the kids were asking about him and his love life. kids would be kids of course. "lily won't stop asking about my love life. it's funny since we both teach her," he said.

"i guess, she's never noticed the necklace with the ring hanging around my neck," you chuckled, nuzzling your face into wonwoo's neck. his arms easily wrapped around your body. he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "you know, lily asked me if i had a girlfriend the other week," wonwoo murmured.

"she asked me if i had a boyfriend too," you hummed. "i just told her that it wasn't appropriate to ask that in class."

"i said something similar, but i did tell her i didn't have a girlfriend."

you paused. why would he say that? he was very obviously in a relationship, well obvious to the two of you. he even gave you a ring and a nice dinner to cement your relationship. "i obviously couldn't tell that i didn't have a girlfriend because i have a wonderful, smart fiancé," he laughed. you breathed an internal sigh of relief, but you still hit him in the chest. "that's so stupid," you groaned. "you're catching everyone on a technicality." he thought he was so clever and funny, ever the wordsmith.

"it's so hard not telling the students," wonwoo whispered, and you nodded your head in agreement. he didn't know why the two of you didn't tell the students yet, but the relationship started a bit secretively, almost right after the both of you were onboarded. he guessed the two of you never got out of the whole secret relationship. it was a bit exhilarating keeping the secret between you and him, and the admin. he felt like a teenager again. "maybe we should ease them into it, but let's not let them think it was all them," you said.

"maybe it's time for you to start wearing the ring on your finger then," he commented pulling away to get a better look at you. "i can't wait for you to become mrs. jeon," he smiled.

"yuck, so corny," you rolled your eyes with a smile. "you need to stop with these cheesy sayings early in the morning." nevertheless, you leaned forward and kissed him. he kissed back easily, "come on, i know you like the little notes i leave in your lunch."

"i do, now be quiet and just kiss me."

"gladly."

he did have the whole weekend until he had to go back to school. at least you made the day a little better.

min | im just in a silly goofy mood LOL. my poor attempt at humor and portraying what high schoolers are like. wonwoo being an english teacher just makes sense!!! reblogs and comments are always appreciated! not proofread at the moment (it's 1 in the morning)

tagging: @a-wandering-stay

[sanguineterrain]

hi sanne!!! my mind has been rotting with assistant!reader x dick, and i literally can’t get it out 😭. i'm in love with your writing and reblog everything! thank you so much, have a great day!!

cute idea! I gave it a little twist ;) hope u enjoy!

dick grayson x gn!assistant!reader. flirting, secret identities, sparring.

****

Bruce Wayne is evasive on a good day and downright invisible on a bad one.

So when you see him down the hallway from his office, attempting to escape without being caught, you nearly trip on your feet trying to catch him.

"Mr. Wayne!"

His shoulders rise with tension. You pity the guy, you really do. Being a gazillionaire is tough.

"Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne, Sharon has been hounding me about the charity dinner. Please, if you could just go to this one dinner... you haven't been to an event all month."

And you're getting the brunt of it from all of WE's clients.

Bruce turns, his smile looking more like a grimace. "Hn. Hello. A dinner? I was sure I had a shareholder meeting that day—"

"All month? B, what happened to the two event minimum? That's your rule."

The new voice comes from behind you. Dick Grayson walks down the hallway, wearing jeans that probably cost as much as your monthly rent.

"Mr. Grayson," you say, nodding primly. "How are you?"

You shift the files in your hands as they start to slip. Dick is quick to catch them, balancing the stack.

"We've been through this," he says with a smile. "You know you can call me Dick."

Yes, you've been through this. Every time Dick shows up to Wayne Enterprises, he tells you to call him by his first name. And every time after that, you call him Mr. Grayson.

"Right..." you say, taking back the files. You turn to Bruce. "Mr. Wayne, if you would just consider the dinner..."

Dick gives Bruce a severe look. "B, this is ridiculous. You're such a stickler for rules and yet—"

"Oh, look at the time." Bruce scoots past you and Dick. "I've got that meeting with Lucius. Where does the day go? Please tell Sharon I'll get back to her."

You can't understand how a guy whose biggest exertion is made by playing tennis at the country club can slip through your fingers so fast. He's around the corner before you can blink. You sigh.

"Don't worry," Dick says. "I'll get him to go. And I'll get one of my siblings to tag along to make sure he doesn't duck out early."

You smile briefly. "I'd appreciate that, Mr. Grayson."

"Dick. So!" He trails behind you as you make your way back to your office. "Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"Working."

"O-kay..." Dick jogs ahead to hold the door open for you. You push through, trying not to frown. "What about tomorrow night?"

You toss your scarf on the hook. It ends up on the floor. You ignore it.

"Still working."

"How 'bout I ask B to give you the day off then?"

Now it's your turn to give a severe look. "If you're implying that I'd be obligated to go out with you in return for a day off, you've completely misjudged my character, Mr. Grayson."

"Whoa, okay." He holds up his hands. "You're right, that didn't come out right. How about I get him to give you a day off, no strings attached?"

You dump your files and sit at your desk. "That's at your discretion."

"Hey." Dick leans on your desk, puppy eyes at full power. "Maybe we've gotten off on the wrong foot. Did I do something that put you off? I'd like you to tell me if I have. I hope the fact that I'm Bruce's son isn't stopping you from being honest."

You put down your pen and look at him. "Look. You seem like a nice guy, and you're handsome with a rich dad to boot. But I'm just not available, okay? You're looking for someone to go to Tahiti with. I respect that. But I'm not that person. I'm just not interested in that."

"You think I'm handsome?"

You sigh and open your laptop.

"Right! Sorry. Not the point." Dick sinks into a crouch next to you. He pulls the oddest poses sometimes, like he's made of rubber bands. "Okay. You're not looking for a trip to Tahiti. Got it. I don't take many vacations anyway. So how about having a friend?"

"And why would you want to be my friend? I'm just some assistant."

"Well, I..." Dick scratches his neck. "I like you. Is that so hard to believe?"

Very. But okay. You can throw him a bone.

"I guess not," you say.

Dick frowns. "You don't believe me."

How does he do that?

"Can I please get back to work?" you ask, only a little worried about being rude. "I'm sorry, I'm just very busy."

His face falls briefly before he stands and nods.

"Of course. No problem. I'll see you around? And I'll get B to go to that dinner."

"Thank you."

You don't notice his lingering looks, or the fact that he picks up your scarf and places it on the hook on his way out.

****

3...17...64.

The safe clicks. You smirk. Easy peasy. The hotshots always use their own birthdays for combinations. Predictable. You bet Bruce Wayne does the same.

It's a blessing that you were able to duck out early today. Bruce gave you the rest of the afternoon off. You suspect that was due to some outside meddling.

You take out the files from D.A. Colson's safe. You always say that if crooked district attorneys don't want their documents stolen, they shouldn't put them where anybody can find them.

...Maybe you were too harsh with Dick. He's sweet, no doubt. It was nice of him to get you off early. But you kind of feel like he'd take issue with the fact that you spend your weeknights breaking and entering.

"You know, cracking safes is already Catwoman's shtick," a voice says behind you. "You might wanna find a new gimmick."

A thrill shoots through you. You toss your head as you turn, leaning against the open safe.

"Catwoman steals diamonds." You hold up the documents. "I just steal files. And make a few edits."

"That's extremely illegal. Those files belong to the district attorney," Nightwing says, crossing his arms.

"The dirty district attorney," you correct.

"I'm supposed to let you off on a technicality?" He sounds amused.

Your shrug one shoulder, a little coy. "You could. I hear you're the nice one."

He laughs. Nightwing has a pretty smile. It's the first thing you'd noticed about him.

"Oh, yeah? Anything else you've heard?"

"Plenty. But I'm in a bit of a hurry tonight, Wing. As much as I enjoy our little chats..."

You dart to the window. Nightwing easily blocks your exit.

You're not quite sure what overtakes you when you run into Nightwing. Ignoring the fact that he manages to be the one to chase you almost every time (and what a chase it is), there's a tension between you. Or maybe it's just one-sided on your part. It certainly doesn't help that he's got a nice smile and bouncy hair.

"You know I can't let you go," he says, hands on his hips. "Put it down."

And he's extremely good at what he does.

"Make me," you say.

He never uses his escrima sticks, which you know is a courtesy to you. But that doesn't mean you can't hold your own.

"Alright," Nightwing says, smirking slightly.

He takes three steps, blocks your immediate kick, and takes the documents.

Something swoops in your belly. You kind of get why Catwoman exclusively fights Batman. Once you go bat, you never go back.

"Got them," he says cheerily. "Now what?"

You throw a glass bird tchotchke at him from Colson's desk. He catches it with his free hand, but it's enough of a distraction for you to slide into his legs. Nightwing stumbles less than you would like, but you push him down against the desk.

He grunts as he hits the wood, then rolls you over in the next breath, hands catching your wrists.

"Stealing... makes you no better... than Colson," he says, hair falling over his mask. All of him is pretty, really. It's too bad he's so firmly on the blind side of justice. You're trying to help the little people. Batman and his merry band of do-gooders have always been too focused on the big picture.

"If these documents are buried, Colson will win his case and hide his own crimes in the process. Is that what you want? Another crook in court?" you ask.

Nightwing frowns. "You know that's not fair. We can't falsify evidence for the sake of putting Colson behind bars. IF we pick and choose whose lives to play with, what gives us the right to carry out justice?"

"I dunno, Wing," you say, a little breathless. Nightwing's hips are politely shifted off of yours, chest to yours. "Seeing you go rogue would be kind of exciting."

You can tell he's glaring at you. "Not in your dreams."

"Been in my dreams, have you?"

You gain enough leverage to push Nightwing off of you. He's back on you immediately, trapping you against the wall.

"How is doing something like this not crooked?" he asks.

You scoff. "It's for charity. I'm donating residents to the county jail."

You twist in Nightwing's hold and land a kick. In the three seconds he's distracted, you grab the documents. No sooner do you do that does Nightwing tackle you. The documents slip out of your hand.

"I can do this all night," he says, knee wedged between your legs. "Might as well yield."

"Yield? You're not even playing at your full strength, hotshot."

He smiles. "No, I'm playing nice."

You roll your eyes. "Well, play fair."

And then you jump out of the window.

Your tuck and roll isn't the worst but it's not the best. Especially when Nightwing neatly lands a few feet away without a wince.

"Showoff," you say.

"Give me the documents," he says. "I want to put Colson away, too. But this isn't how to do it. He's still a civilian, and his clients' lives matter."

You get up and wobble on a loose brick on the edge. Stupid historical buildings.

You're desperate. If he keeps this up, you're bound to land yourself a night in the police station and lose the documents.

So you dust yourself off. And you stop. Right at the edge of the roof.

"Okay," you say.

Nightwing takes a careful step forward. "Okay?"

You toss the documents to him. He catches them in surprise.

"You're surrendering?" he asks.

You shrug. "Like you said: you can do this all night. And I guess there are better ways to catch Colson. More permanent ways."

He tilts his head. "You're not gonna kill him, are you?"

"No! Jesus, man. Ye of little faith."

"I'm just trying to understand why you surrendered."

You sigh. "Because you always win anyway. You're a better fighter than me. And I'm cornered. I just feel like cutting my losses early. You're a lot more convincing than Batman."

"Is that so?"

"Oh, yeah. I much prefer you chasing me."

"Uh-huh." He nods towards the building. "Come on, then."

"Okay, sure."

You take a step. And you fall.

The brick is loose under your foot. It doesn't take much for you to keep going.

Panic surges through you, but that only solidifies your acting.

"Wing!" you cry, toppling over the edge.

"Shit!"

Nightwing lunges and grabs you by your waist, then uses momentum to haul you both to safety. His cheek against yours for a moment, body pressed to yours. It really is a damn shame he's such a Boy Scout.

You knock him in the stomach and snatch the documents, then separate from his grip. You watch his face contort in realization as you land and bolt.

"That wasn't playing nice or fair!" he yells, landing on the opposite side.

You're already gone, laughter echoing.

[xxsycamore]

🔞IKEMEN BREEDING SEASON🔞 - XXSYCAMORE'S 2000 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION EVENT

On October 28th, 2024, this blog hit 2K followers! Once again, thank you, everyone, for the support, and for sticking around in my writing adventures. I hope you can continue enjoying my work! Now, our previous milestone celebrations were all about fluffy short stories, so I figured it's high time we bring some smut into the mix. Even though spring would have been perfect for the Ikemen Breeding Season, I decided, why wait when we can have it now. Besides, that time is reserved for part 2 of our Steal My Heart!! (1500 followers) event! If you have placed a request for it and haven't received a ficlet yet, don't worry, I haven't deleted anything! :)

➺ PROMPTS

How do you want the suitor to breed you (or the MC)? :

In the heat of the moment

As proof that you belong to them

To produce an heir

With a chance for twins

While imagining you being pregnant

Making sure that it takes

Making the moment special

When they'd already gotten you pregnant before

With you taking the lead

While you're in heat (Omegaverse)

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 2 separate request openings - Since in the past there have been times when everything has been grabbed in the first 10 minutes from the announcement, I decided it would only be fair for the people in different time zones if I divide it into two batches at different times of the day.

FIRST REQUEST OPENING WILL HAPPEN ON OCTOBER 30TH, 12 PM UTC (8 AM EDT) (or click here to see it converted to your time zone)

SECOND REQUEST OPENING WILL HAPPEN ON OCTOBER 31TH, 12 AM UTC (8 PM EDT on the 30th) (or click here to see it converted to your time zone)

Both request openings will be closed after I get a total of 15 requests each! I will make separate posts to announce when those start and close.

➺ RULES:

Understand that these are going to be short NSFW stories, around 500 words each.

Anonymous asks are allowed, but please don't abuse my kindness and don't request if you're a minor!

Pick a character from the list below and a prompt from the prompt list. Threesomes are allowed, so long as no one is related, lol.

Be sure to let me know if you want MC x Suitor(s) or Reader x Suitor(s). If you don't specify, I'll write it as I see fit!

Specify your gender preferences if you have any! If you selected "Reader", I'll by default write them with afab traits. This goes especially for the prompt "Imagining you pregnant" where you could encounter terms including but not limited to: breasts, lactation, love handles, vagina, ovulation, womb, ovaries, pregnant bellies, you get the picture. To bypass all of this, you can ask for a Gender Neutral Reader, or you can be more specific and tell me your preferences in detail.

Mpreg is welcome, sure, why not. This goes both for Male Readers and for Getting your suitor pregnant, like in the case where you picked the Omegaverse prompt and he's an Omega. Go wild.

OCs are NOT allowed, due to how short these stories are going to be versus the research required in order to do justice to your OC. Sorry!

Don't send multiple requests! One per person. Again, I'm put my trust in you about not abusing the anon option.

In the event where I've already received the same prompt with the same character, I'll only write it once!

Don't hesitate to give me details! :) I want to create a work specially crafted for you. If you have a whole scenario in mind, I'd love to hear it, even if I have to squeeze it in the word limit. Where are they doing it, what is the reader wearing, what petname the suitor uses - these are just a few examples! Additionally, since I haven't read all the routes of the characters listed here, if you feel it's needed, you can provide some in-game information about the character if it has a relation to topic. Ex: "I think he'll make a great family man because he canonly loves taking care of the younger ones."

Requests sent outside of the specified time periods won't be accepted. I try to immediately answer these so you'll know, but I might also straight-up delete anything that doesn't follow the rules.

➺ AVAILABLE CHARACTERS:

Ikemen Villains: Wiliam; Harrison; Liam; Elbert; Alfons; Roger; Jude; Ellis; Victor; Darius; Nica; Ring

Ikemen Prince: Leon; Chevalier; Yves; Nokto; Licht; Jin; Luke; Clavis; Rio; Sariel; Gilbert; Keith; Silvio, Cyran/Cyril, Matthias, Kagari

Ikemen Vampire: Napoleon(pls); Leonardo; Mozart; Arthur; Vincent; Theo; Isaac; Jean; Dazai; Sebastian; Comte; Shakespeare; Vlad; Faust; Charles; Drake; Galileo

Ikemen Revolution: Lancelot; Ray; Jonah; Fenrir; Edgar; Sirius; Kyle; Luka; Zero; Seth; Blanc; Oliver; Loki; Harr; Mousse; Dalim; Dean; Levie

Ikemen Sengoku: Nobunaga; Masamune; Shingen; Hideyoshi; Mitsuhide; Kanetsugu; Ieyasu; Mitsunari; Yukimura; Sasuke; Kenshin; Kenyo; Ranmaru; Motonari; Keiji; Kicho; Yoshimoto

Midnight Cinderella: Alyn; Giles; Louis; Leo; Byron; Nico; Albert; Robert; Rayvis; Sid

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘���

Please understand that I can't guarantee that I'm going to write all of these! I have a lot of issues IRL that I need to take care of, which leads me to either not having a lot of free time or not having the needed energy and inspiration to write. Either way, I hope you can have fun with this event! I can't wait to see what you send me. Have a great day, and I'll see you in my askbox soon! <3

[beomiracles]

congrats to 500 !! you deserve even more <3 I love pretty princess sm and now my brain is overridden with royalty and txt prince au so I'm sorry to request for your 500 event but I must you write too well. 😭💕 so imagine prince! beomgyu this time and whilst he's so incredibly handsome and the whole kingdom fawns over him, he's also the most mischievous troublesome prince ever so the king (his father), fed up, decides to marry him off and arrange a marriage to reader since he's so reckless and reader is the complete opposite and since she's also a princess and both their families are close and have a good relationship. Back when they were younger, their families would always meet at each other's palaces a lot because they're close but reader and beomgyu would never really get along, especially reader she's always hate beomgyu's guts bc of how reckless and annoying he is to her and reader is really uptight. So they haven't seen each other since they were kids until the arranged marriage and can't say neither of them are too happy about it...+ smut if it somehow works 😭 Idk if that makes any sense but I love you and your work and happy 500 !!

500 BASH SPECIAL

#serene adds ✎... my dear pretty princess you will always be famous. *melancholic sigh* oh but this idea was sm fun! though I might have lost the plot a little along the way oopsies..! HOWEVER I still think it turned out good so I hope it doesn't disappoint ε(´｡•᎑•`)っ 💕 i did see your second ask for sub!gyu hehe so i tried to include it!

wc -> 1.9k

pairings prince!beomgyu x princess!reader warnings maybe a lil angsty? elements of cheating, slight dom/sub dynamics, sub!beomgyu, dom!reader, implied inexperienced reader, handjob, unprotected sex, tiny bit of marking.

The door to your shared bedchamber quietly closes and you can hear the light footsteps darting across the room as your husband carefully makes his way over to the bed you shared. After quickly shuffling out of his clothes, Beomgyu takes place next to you on the large mattress, seemingly unaware of the fact that you were still awake. 

“Where have you been all day?” Your voice rings out into the darkness of the room and you can feel him go stiff beside you. — You knew that your marriage was merely out of convenience and that your husband held no affection for you, yet you couldn’t help but feel hurt at his blatant absence. It wasn’t exactly unusual for your bed to remain empty of his presence. 

Beomgyu clears his throat and you can feel him shift next to you. “I had a few things to take care of”, he mumbles and you refuse a scoff. His words were scattered with yet another handful of lies for you could smell the liquor on him. — “Did you talk to your father about the ball we’re arranging next week?” You ask, though his following silence gave you all the answers you needed. 

He sighs, an exhausted and almost irritated sigh. “I’ll do it tomorrow”, he grumbles and you roll your eyes. You had known him almost your whole life and he had always been like this, uncaring and outright reckless. And while he might’ve gotten away with his deceiving ways of living, as a teen, it was seriously taking a toll on both his reputation on your marital duties as adults. — More than often did you find yourself straying by your work desk until early morning as you plowed through your workload; while your husband spent his days engaging in all but his royal duties. 

“Don’t bother.” You sigh as you lean back against your pillow. There’s a brief pause before you feel him shift once more, “what?”, he asks as he props himself up on his elbows. “I said don’t bother. I’ll do it.” You grit out before turning your back on him, hugging your arms around your body as you screwed your eyes shut. You can practically hear his inner battle as he fumbles for words. “Beomgyu, it’s fine, I’ll do it. Just go to sleep.” You mumble as you pull the duvet over your chest. 

You’re startled when you suddenly feel his warm hand on your shoulder. “Is something wrong?” He quietly wonders and you almost want to laugh. “No, why would it be?” You mutter as you shrug his hand off. — “Well you’re acting…distant”, he comments as he flops back down against the mattress. This time you can’t resist the scoff that leaves your lips, “I’m acting distant? I thought that was what you wanted, no?” 

“When did I say that?” He grunts as stares up against the dark ceiling. You actually could not believe him. “When?” You snort, “you’re asking me when?” The silence that follows makes your eyebrows knit together in a frown, “everyday”, you finally state, your voice merely a whisper. “You leave me alone, cooped up in piles of work while you’re out doing heaven knows what, sometimes you don’t even come home, what are you doing then? Busy spending all our resources on the nearest brothel?” Your rant ends with a small huff as you close your eyes in exhaustion. 

You try your best to ignore the stinging feeling in your chest as you’re forced to listen to the quiet breathing of him next to you, wondering what you could have possibly done to warrant such an unfortunate marriage. “You refuse to look at me”, he then whispers and your eyes snap open at his words. “You always have”, he continues as he draws in a small breath. “Even back when we were kids, you refused to even glance in my direction.” 

Biting your lip, you let his words sink in. You had always resented Beomgyu, even when the two of you were still young, his reckless persona made you wrinkle your nose in disgust. You had refused to ever become associated with such a being. Whilst Beomgyu spent his late teens exploring the town's village, earning himself quite the promiscuous reputation, you stayed at home, your nose buried in whatever book had captured your interest. — When the news of your arranged marriage reached you, the only thing on your mind was to avoid the man you were to call husband at all costs. You had never once stopped to consider that he might not feel the same, that he might… 

“You want me to look at you?” 

Your words feel heavy as they leave your lips, a brief pause accompanying them before Beomgyu breathes out a quiet, “yes.” — You don’t exactly know what came over you, the years of pent up anger toward him or the longing you’d tried to deny whenever he wasn’t around. Whichever it may be, it caused you to abruptly sit up as your head snapped in his direction. “If that is what you wish.” You firmly state before swinging your leg over him, straddling his lap as you leaned over to light the candle by your bed. 

In the dim light casted by the small flame, you finally come face to face with him. Beomgyu wears a startled expression as his wide eyes blink up at your own. “Is this what you wanted?” You frown as you let your hands fall to your sides, leaning back on your knees slightly, your eyes darting across his exposed chest for a brief second. 

His large hands grab onto your waist as he pulls you down on him completely, your lips parting in surprise as you feel his bulge, pressing up against your thigh through the thin fabric of his slacks. “No”, he states before one of his hands trails up to the nape of your neck, pulling you down as he presses his lips against yours, his tongue quickly dwelling deep into your mouth. “Like this”, he mumbles as he keeps you in a firm hold. 

Your initial shock soon fades as you lean into the tender kiss, the kiss that quickly grows hotter and far more lewd with each passing second. Perhaps you had read him wrong all along, perhaps… Pulling your lip between his teeth, Beomgyu’s hand on your waist snakes down between your thighs and you immediately pull back. 

Bracing your palms against his naked chest, you catch your breath as your gaze meets his; brown eyes swirling with desire as a smirk plasters on his lips. “You okay?” He murmurs as the back of his hand envelops your cheek in a gentle caress. You close your eyes, the many lonesome nights lingering in the back of your mind despite your greatest efforts to push them away. 

Finally you look down to him once more as you shake your head. “No. No I am not.” You quietly whisper. Upon sliding back on his thighs, your hands trail along his chest before reaching the hem of his pants. — You had spent one night together, your wedding night. It had perhaps been one of the most drawn out nights of your life, and you remembered it with disdain, it had merely been out of duty. That didn’t change the fact that it remained the only experience you held, so with a small exhale you gathered yourself before sliding the fabric from his body. 

You swallow a small gulp as you eye his hard cock, eyes flitting hesitantly between it and Beomgyu’s almost daring gaze. He cocks an eyebrow at you and parts his lips as if to say something, though his words are quickly replaced by a small strangled noise as you wrap your fingers around his shaft. Truthfully, you had no clue of what you were doing but the way he squirmed as your thumb brushed against his tip caused a spark of confidence to shoot through you. 

You experimented your way forward as your other hand joined in, flicking your wrist over the head of his cock whilst the other gently squeezed around the base, pulling a harsh groan from your husband. — Propping himself up on his elbows, Beomgyu licks his lips as he reaches a hand out toward you only to be forcefully pushed back against the pillow. “Lie back down, and be still.” You command and with a look of disbelief he obliges. 

Your brows draw together as you refocus your attention toward his cock in your hands. Upping your pace ever so slightly as a sheen layer of precum spilled from his tip, running down his shaft like wax of a candle. The soft noises spilling from his lips made your cunt clench around nothing and you rubbed your thighs together in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure.

His hips bucked up against your hands and the small frown on your face deepens as your gaze snaps back up to his flustered face. “I thought I told you to be still”, you scold as you tug on his cock, making him whimper out into the hot air. Breathing out a quiet “m’sorry”, his fingers intertwine amongst the silk sheets, his knuckles growing white as he grips them tight.  

When the ache between your legs becomes almost unbearable you let out a small sigh as you hike your nightgown over your hips, repositioning yourself to hover above the leaking tip of his cock. Beomgyu bites his lip as he groans under you, eyes pleading with you as he silently asks for you to sink down on him, and you do, wincing slightly at the unfamiliar stretch, taking your time before he’s fully seethed within you. 

You let out a shaky breath as you slowly begin to move on top of him, biting back a moan as his stiff cock brushes against all your sensitive nerves. “I want you to stop going to brothels.” The statement falls from your lips without much struggle and Beomgyu whines beneath you as he tugs on the bedsheets. “Did you hear me?” Your hand grabs ahold of his chin, fingers digging into his cheeks as you force his clouded gaze to refocus on you. He meekly nods and you scoff as you let go of his face. “Then answer me.” 

“I-I’ll stop, I won’t go there -fuck- a-anymore..” He groans as he feels you clench around him. — Increasing the pace of your hips, your head threatens to fall back against the euphoric pleasure coursing through you. “I want you to sleep in here every night.” You practically demand as your nails rake along his chest, leaving angry red marks in their wake, making him arch off the mattress as he nods his head feverishly.

“Can you promise me that you’ll stop seeing those filthy whores?” You drawl as you feel your climax approaching. Beomgyu heaves a breath as he looks up at you, “yes, yes, anything you want”, he whines as he feels you grind down harsher on him, a small moan ripping from your throat as you release all over his cock, making him twitch deep inside of you. “Please, please, please..” he pleads, his eyes rolling back as his hips jerk up against yours. 

Too exhausted to push him back down you lean forward to press your lips against his neck. “Fine, I do suppose you’ve been good”, you mutter against his skin as you tenderly kiss it. Breathy moans and thank you’s leave his lips and his hips stutter as his finishes inside of your aching cunt, arms wrapping around you tightly as he pressed you further against his chest. 

You supposed your marriage wasn’t entirely hopeless after all.

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[2demondogs]

With Chrismas around the corner (not really but basically), i would love an Arthur x GN!reader where Arthur proposes to reader for Chrismas and they obviously say yes because, well, it's Arthur, who wouldn't?

Anon did you read my mind. I was just thinking about proposal fics when you sent this ask because I have yet to stumble on one somehow... I'm sorry this took forever btw T-T

Shoutout to my platonic boyfriend for helping me with ideas because I got writer's block <3

Words: 3k oh my good lord Tags: canon divergence (it's just people leaving the gang a chapter early), Arthur does not have tuberculosis, INSTANT spoilers for character death, cheesy shit

It's been too long, you're realizing, since holidays like Christmas felt like special things. There is a double-edged feel to this one — it is the first since Hosea's death, since leaving the gang — but it is the first, in a very long time, that you've spent in the so-called right way: in a warm house with four solid walls and someone you love, how those fanciful books Mary-Beth used to talk your ear off about always wrote.

The house is warm enough, anyways.

There's work that needs done on the cabin. Some of the wood is rotting out and chipped at the corners, forming into sharp splinters that you've brushed against one too many times, but it is a house. You haven't had this pleasure since before joining the gang.

Sometimes, with how content Arthur seems at baseline, you wonder if he's had this pleasure since early childhood. On quieter evenings, ones less reserved for happiness than this one, there has been clipped discussion about how Arthur has never had domesticity like this. Silently, it was an admission of how good it is to share this freshness with you.

During a ride into town, he'd admitted that he had never picked up painting because it was the sort of thing only steady folks got to enjoy. You'd gotten him a set of oil paints when no one was looking — he's worth much more than a few measly dollars, but that means little if you haven't got them to begin with. Some habits die hard; he was happy you remembered what he'd said only a few hours before.

Come the new year, Arthur plans to find work that will pay. New things are a luxury neither of you care much to indulge in, but the repairs will take lumber and maybe a few extra hands. Ones with more expertise, at least, because Arthur's houses usually have not had foundations.

You could simply move now that time has passed, yes. You could find somewhere much farther away, maybe even New York, and pack yourselves in alongside the other sardines bustling about a city, undetectable in uniformity. Shave beards, got jobs, change clothes, cut hair and color it, too, if paranoia strikes— but keeping low to the ground has worked itself out so far, and there is no more of that deathlike stagnation in the air of this place.

Sentimentally, you think this Christmas will seal off whatever makes this cabin yours. Shadows linger, there's been a few odd creaks that've spooked the horses, and maybe it's going to shit a lot quicker than either of you want to admit, but it's your shit-house and the shared stubbornness between you has always brought you nothing but closer to one another.

Arthur is tired of running, and so are you. Last week, he talked about writing to Mary-Beth and Simon, maybe checking if Kieran — the utterance of the man's proper name was a confirmation of the last of that stockholmlike regret having worked out of his system — had broken and followed his little girlfriend. It wasn't said with malice, just some amusement.

"Why do you think he would?" You'd asked.

"Dutch only saves people who don't ask for it," he'd said, and that wistful look in his eyes vanished before you could ask what it meant.

Maybe it's the hard work that makes it feel like a real, true holiday. Pearson and Grimshaw stopped working everyone harder in the winter over the years, once the familial glamour faded with each new addition to the gang. It was no longer a tight-knit group, but a posse, more or less, of runaways and strays all against a big, evil thing like the rest of the world, or whatever it was that Dutch grew to fear.

Since November, Arthur has been saving the best catches to be salted and stored for Christmas dinner. Each addition is cleaner skinned and cut than the last, and the newfound worst of them ended up being ate upon his return from hunting. You've both been saving back herbs since summer, dried and ready to be crumbled into the heated up pot come time for a real feast. Cornbread was made by hand for the first time since you settled down here, drizzled with honey from the general store a ways out.

The latter was Arthur's only specific request for a fancy dinner. If you hadn't gotten him a single gift save for making it, he'd still be happy as a clam.

He's been putting that goddamned honey on everything. You're glad he seems to be enjoying things again, not as tightstrung as he was before you'd made off with him. That's how it feels, anyways, after the long and struggling conversations that were had before the decision was made. Family or life? It's a hard question for someone who has such little concept of either.

Now, the grey hair in his beard is catching the light from the fireplace where he's sat himself on a chair before it. They'd sprouted through the sun-bleached blond atop his head has been looking lighter and lighter in recent months, grey finally catching up to the discoloration and giving him some malcolored sort of tabby look. It's a good one on him, as much as he complains about looking old as dirt and that it's all formed by stress.

For all the lacking color, it adds a ruddy warmth to his face. Daydreams of growing old together find you when you focus on it, or on his wheezing laugh that's gotten worse with the cold weather. Despite the woolen vest he's been sporting, his fingers are as chilled as yours whenever they've brushed. Idly, you wonder if he's gotten whatever Hosea grew into, then remember they were never by blood.

Arthur hadn't wanted you to get him any gifts. When you asked if he would get you something, he'd flushed and changed his mind, apparently already having done it.

Whatever it is, it's good-sized, wrapped in one of the dustcloths you'd gotten him alongside the paints. He's been spending more time painting, lately, tucked in the treeline and looking over the cabin or deeper into the woods, studying something plein air the way those professionals do. He'd propped it against the wall this morning, and once you've settled on the floor before the fireplace — too cold outside not to crowd close to it — after dinner, he looks between you and the cloth like he isn't sure what to do.

"D'you wanna do the honors?" He asks, and grins although the twitch of his eye tells you he's covering timidity with faux cockiness.

"You go ahead," you say, half because he's closer. Tormenting him in small ways must be part of any good gift.

The painting is an image you recognize. A photo that one of the girls took for you months before things went down the hole, using the camera Arthur was loaned by some feller in town who wanted photos taken for a book. He never returned it, and it more or less became something he tucked beneath his cot and let the elements beat around. You can't remember, now, who it was or where he went to get it developed.

The little inkling of pride you felt knowing he kept putting off getting the negatives developed — not enough money, not enough time — yet was gone the next morning to have yours developed returns, now.

It's a much nicer rendition of it, your clothes not dirty and his arm around your waist, the other holding his hat to his chest. It's clear he preferred to give your portrait more detail, his own lagging somewhere behind in clarity and looking closer to the photo. You suppose it's easier to look at someone besides himself, but there's a clearer enjoyment in the lines of you, more care taken in the color mixes.

Ignoring the dense joy of the implications of that, of how obvious it is, proves difficult. Your cheeks twinge some from the wide smile before you realize you're even reacting.

"You'll be a big name someday," you say, and he may as well shrink in on himself beneath the praise, although he's heard it plenty of times before.

"Naw," he waves a hand. "Quit that."

"Really, Arthur." Scooting closer, laying your hands over his knee. He's moving his jaw when your eyes meet his, lays a hand over one of yours, heavy and warm. "It's beautiful. I love it."

"Good," he says. His jaw clicks. "I— uh, I love you."

The hunting knife you got for him seems small, though relatively equal. Arthur looks as pleased as ever studying it, half-mumbling appraisals of yeah, nice and sharp, sturdy to himself that likely would've stayed inside his head, if it weren't for wanting to show you he liked it.

A bone handle, which he feels over with his fingers before noticing it's engraved, fits easy in his palm. You were afraid you push your luck with maintaining its quality too far adding the tiny, vague bear shape next to the deeper cut of his name. Already impressive was the fact that you hadn't ruined it with the letters, being one of your first expeditions into anything of the sort.

"I would've gotten you one of those folding knives," you explain. "But they don't hold up as well, and I know you have one."

The army knife was Hosea's.

"Needed me a new huntin' knife," Arthur says. You know, because he's complained about his current one being close to snapping with all the skinning he does anymore. He squints at the handle, turns it over in the light from the fire. "Did you engrave the handle?"

"Yessir."

He smiles. "It's real nice," he says, pats his palm with the blade softly. It makes a dull noise, sturdy metal on skin. "Why a bear?"

"They remind me of you," you admit. Really, you'd spent a long time considering what else to add, because only his name seemed so plain; although he wouldn't be opposed to flowers or vines, they are a little more intricate than a simplified bear head. "Big and strong. Hairy, too. I'd like to hug one."

He snorts a laugh, but it seems thin. His eyes are fond enough on you that it couldn't be any rejection of your words, and so you brush it off. "You wanna hug a bear?" He asks.

"In a perfect world," you amend. "Don't they look warm?"

"You'd better stick to me," he says, smooths a palm over the thigh of his jeans. The nicest pair he owns, he promised you, because he feels ridiculous in slacks and seems to think you care what he wears.

Beyond thinking everything looks well on him, at least. You often find yourself concerned with that thought.

"I got you somethin' else," Arthur starts, running a finger over the bunched inseam at his own knee. "Well, uh— it's f'both of us, really."

Isn't that intriguing, you think, but your silent, undivided attention seems to make him outright nervous, so you say: "Oh?"

Some conflict happens over his face as he pulls his vest collar away and reaches into the inner pocket, takes out a stack of thin papers that he glances over before apparently relenting to something. Confusion finds you, until he takes a deep breath and holds them towards you.

"Read these," is all he says, and he sounds like it's almost painful.

He's written much, much more than that. Your stomach turns, once or twice, realizing they are pages from his journal. Uncertain why, until the first entries which are skittering on affectionate fade into ones much more flowery. They are all about you, days you'd spent together or times you hadn't, the things you've given him over the years and the things he wished he could've given you.

Each page makes your chest feel tight with a panicked joy, as if his hands were not fiddling with the new knife to occupy — distract? — himself but clenching hard at your heart.

One, near the beginning, says he thought of pickin' a pretty lil' flower, God bless it, I feel ridiculous; on the back of the next is pressed a variegated tulip, crumbling with age but holding firm to whatever adhesive glues it to the paper. Again, that creeping smile, like thyme. Another entry is entirely about your hair, because it had brushed his arm. Only a few sentences made up that page, below the cursive a choppy sketch of your horse.

Certainly, Arthur stays busy in his head. You've always known as much, but never figured any of it was about you. Not like this, anyways, though the dates spread from the week before Blackwater and you can only wonder what laid in that journal he lost before.

"Oh, Arthur," you start, looking up from a third-way through, feeling giddy but not wanting him to watch you so intently while you finish them. No wonder he was shy. It's his heart. "You're so sweet."

"Finish readin' 'em," Arthur says, doesn't meet your eyes at first. When he does, they're gentle. "They get sweeter, y'know, better finish 'em. 'Cause of that."

He is nervous. Hardly moving, besides the tongue running over his teeth beneath his lips, and the rambling every time he opens his mouth. You don't mind, never have. He's endearing like this.

Outings you'd went on infrequently, the dates of his favorites underlined, you're noticing, based on the tone of his words in them; his worries and fears about courting you, and some of what you mean to him though, with its succinctness, you have a feeling he wouldn't dare put all of his genuine love to findable paper; things he likes about you, and one page where he admits that he cannot keep himself from documenting you in every other entry, which tells you this small collection is hardly everything. The previous entries turn over in your mind again, and you are struck on a random page for a moment as their meanings take hold, realizing they were especially sliced from his journal to show you.

The entries leading to the last are what set your mind and pulse ablaze. From the first appearance of the word marriage, you swallowed your idea of what may be coming — Arthur's breathing changing beside you doesn't help any, and it certainly does not help that he leans down once you've reached the last page, plucking it from your hands. Before he does, you notice quite a few crossed out lines, scribbles as if he were frustrated with not being able to find the right words.

"Think I've got the balls on me to read this one aloud, at the very least," he says, voice laced with a chuckle. Breath comes uneasy, but you collect yourself enough to gather the pages back into a neat, ordered stack in your lap. "Unless you'd rather spare me," he adds, nudges your knee with the toe of his shoe.

"No." Your voice sounds strange, even to you. "Do me the honors."

Arthur bites his cheek, nods and lets it fall as he smiles. Still, his hand finds the back of his neck, the page held between two fingers that remain surprisingly steady. The knife lingers in his hand beneath it, and isn't it just like him to propose holding a weapon.

Propose. It takes its first toll on you, rolls over your back in shards of tingling.

"December twenty-fifth, eighteen ninety-nine," he starts, eyes flicking to your face every other word until the intensity of your gaze must make him too anxious. "It's a nice little life, livin' with the one I love," — rubbing his mouth, sighing some — "Jesus, I always gotta be sappy." You laugh, though it comes out more forceful than you intended, and relax some until he continues. "The thought of another day where anythin' could happen 'n' we ain't bound is somethin' I hate."

Arthur pauses, stands up and places the journal entry on his chair. You take his hands when he holds them out to where you sit, grunting when he hauls you off the ground with more force than you expected, feet shuffling into place to stick all-too-close to his. His hands are burning, skin feverish when you grab his wrists, as if you'd ever want to stop him as he eases onto a knee before you.

And his eyes throw you off balance, too, catching the light just enough that you can tell they are stinging. So are your own, now that you think about it, but intelligent thoughts go out the window once you sense him about to speak.

"I wanna be 'til death do us part," Arthur confesses, fumbles to catch both of your hands in his in an awkward, squeezing hug of a hold.

The way your bones catch on one another, well— it's not a sensation you'll forget, like the first time he kissed you and you felt it still a week later, warm pressure on your mouth if you got too lost in the memory. He looks as good, looks so nice, and you know your fingers would be shaking if he weren't crowding them together, steady.

When he says your name, the blood is rushing through your ears too loud to hear it clearly; you almost want to ask him to do it again. "Will you marry me?"

Nodding, face slack before it spreads in a grin. "Yes," you say. "Of course I will."

His is hidden by how he lets go of your hands, catching them before they fall in stupid, limp joy back to your sides. He lays kisses along the knuckles, all three rows of them. It's so awfully saccharine and yet you could never tell him to quit being sweet— not now, not as he stumbles to his feet after you pull him up and shake off his hold to grab his face, tugging him into a kiss.

Arms come around your waist, squeeze tight enough to hurt, or to hold in place. Arthur runs a hand over your back, breaks the kiss to slide a hand into your hair and press your face to his chest, caging you in his arms. He smells warm, like good cologne, and you know he's been planning this.

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 18 🍒

"I Wanted It To Be You"

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 7,467

Summary: Moving on from Joel, your life takes many unexpected courses: college, marriage.. yet you keep wondering What If..?

(Warnings contain spoilers, so please check beneath the cut if you're curious)

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (the difference is 17 years, and there are a few time skips throughout this chapter), starts in late 2003 and ends in 2023, Angst Angst Angst, brief mention of jailtime, breakup, parental issues, heavy on the mom guilt, underage drinking, dry humping, anonymous drunk sex (never ever do this, folks), vomit, reader going through a slutty era after getting her heart broken (just like Joel in Chapter 14), allusions to smut, time skips (labeled), panic attack, mention of drugs and alcohol, rough sex, creampie, surprise pregnancy, infidelity, lil bit of a makeout sesh with Tommy, semi-public sex, pussy pronouns, light degradation, Ellie is Joel's daughter, mention of cyberstalking (not as serious as it sounds), mention of reader having a therapist, Joel and Tess are married. If I left anything out, please LMK!

Author's Note: this took forever to write because the more I edited the more I wanted to add. And I know this chapter has quite a few time skips, I just wanted to highlight the important parts as much as I could. ALSO: I apologize for the unrealistically speedy law process at the beginning. I have no idea how that situation would pan out, but it would almost definitely drag out for months if not years.

So much angst here, but now the reader is all grown up! I wanted to add the convo with Sarah but this chapter was already getting so long, and I think it'll fit better in the next installment anyway.

Series Masterlist

"I would've said yes."

You've lost count of how many voicemails you leave Joel, who's been ignoring your calls, but this is the only time you say it, that you admit your love could have gone a different way if you'd just gotten back to that hotel room together.

You replay that night over and over in your head, but with different endings. In a perfect world, your father would never have even been there in the first place. In a separate, less perfect world, you would not have called out to him, just ignored him the way he ignored you. Then you'd have some peace of mind, and you'd belong with the man you love.

Each time you call Joel, you expect to hear his gruff voice on the other end of the line. And soon enough the ringing stops and goes straight to voicemail, where you leave him the words of your bleeding, broken heart:

"I would've said yes."

You haven't taken the ring out of its box, worried you'll jinx whatever luck you have left. Joel is supposed to kneel, take your hand in his, and place the ring on your finger. You've never envisioned what getting engaged would look like, but it definitely bears some semblance to tradition.

When Chris refused to press charges, the law stepped in and did it for him. Thirty days in the Bexar County Jail is what they sentenced Joel. That was why you couldn't reach him, why you felt like you were hitting a brick wall. It's a relief when you're finally able to speak to him.

"I'm so sorry," you cry to him over the phone, his voice like a warm and soothing balm. You imagine yourself curling into his embrace, allowing his arms to enfold you, make you small and safe, hidden from the dangers and ugliness of the world.

"You ain't got nothin' to be sorry for," he grunts.

"I love you." You sound pitiful over the phone but you don't care. "Joel, let me come see you and we can work it out. Please."

He sighs. "I got somethin' I need to tell you. Might change your mind how ya feel about me."

"What?" you ask quickly, your young mind scrambling to imagine what he could say, as if to fortify your already shattered heart. Your stomach sinks, nausea threatening to make the bile rise in your throat. "Joel, what is it?"

He's quiet for awhile and when he speaks it's monotone. "I've been seein' someone else."

It sounds like he's speaking a foreign language. You shake your head, looking at your wall calendar. It's only December. You last saw him in late September. The biblical manger scene on the church calendar your mom put on the fridge is an evil harbinger of time now lost.

"Who?" you ask, dreading the answer.

"Doesn't matter," he says gruffly, sounding uncomfortable.

"Tell me who," you insist.

With a deep sigh he relents. "Hailey."

Again, it's like hearing a foreign language. "Hailey? The girl I worked with? The one who went to Sarah's party? That Hailey?"

"Yeah."

"How.. how did this happen?"

"Ran into her at a bar my first night out of jail. I was lonely and she was.. she was there for me."

"What do you mean? Did you-" you take a moment to breathe, try not to let your emotions take over.

"I slept with her. That's all it is between us, just fuckin'."

It's like a punch in the gut. No, worse. It's a blade plunging into your heart over and over.

In a blur of upset and disappointment, you utter the words of anyone who's ever had a broken heart: "How could you do this to me?"

There's no answer for it from his side. His refusal to go into detail feels like he's hiding his fling with Hailey on purpose, withholding part of his new life to you, but you never stop to think he might be saving you from the pain he knows is due.

You cry after hanging up on him. You cry more than you did when he left you in San Antonio. You cry until you can no longer see because your eyes are puffy, nearly tiny slits that still somehow shed tears when you think of Joel with your ex-friend.

Once the sadness has been cried out, there remains only rage, simmering and profound. With small, practiced movements, you take the engagement ring in its box and mail it to Joel's address. No note, and no explanation needed.

"You're not yourself," your mom mentions one night when you push your plate away, your dinner barely touched.

"Not hungry," you mumble.

She sighs in exasperation. "I don't know what to do with you. You won't talk to me." She pushes her own plate away and downs the rest of her cheap wine. "You come home from God-knows-where, with a damn bruise on your face."

You touch your cheek where your father had accidentally knocked you backwards, wishing it was the only physical pain you endured from that night.

"..you don't bother with the chores anymore, you lock yourself away in your room, probably not even studying. Do you even attend classes anymore? Do you even care about your future?" she continues.

"No," you say quite simply.

"No??"

You shake your head and shrug, as if answering something as easy as 'do you want to watch a movie later?'

"I don't. Give. A shit."

Anita scoffs, refilling her glass. "Great. That's just great. Maybe I'll drink this entire bottle and give myself alcohol poisoning. Then I wouldn't have to deal with your shitty attitude anymore."

The scrape of your chair as you push away from the table is as loud as nails on a chalkboard. "You want me to talk? I'll talk." You lean forward, relishing this moment where your mom looks scared as shit.

"I said I was in College Station, but I lied. I was fucking Joel every weekend I was away. We met up in hotel rooms and fucked each other's brains out. And the best part of it all was that he loved me," your voice breaks but you're wickedly delighted by the look of shock and disgust on your mother's face.

You're on a tirade now that can't be stopped. "Two months ago I found Dad in San Antonio. I did," you nod, a psychotic kind of laughter breaking from you when she gawks. "And do you know what? He's forgotten all about us. He has a new family, new kids, new young wife. And he doesn't give a shit about you or me. He never really has, has he?" You realize you're standing, towering over her as you spit out all the venom she's ever poured into you right back at her.

"Now.. how does it feel to have the truth shoved in your face? To be deprived of the fantasy world you wanted so badly to live in, cushioned by your idiotic pretenses? Because I'll bet you could've gone your whole life not knowing, staying innocent. Well, Mother Dearest, fuck you."

Without a word you pack your things, your body moving way ahead of your brain, stuffing every necessary item into a couple of bags before you leave her house, with the intention to never return again.

Summer 2004 Louisiana

Staying with friends in a shitty apartment, you finish the rest of the semester before transferring to another school. Three schools in one year probably isn't a very good look on your transcript, but it's the first choice you make that is truly your own. Working two jobs over the summer you finally have the money you need to survive as you begin a new chapter in Louisiana.

You do everything in your power to get over Joel. The first step was deleting his number from your phone, even though you've already memorized it by heart. To be safe, you also delete Tommy's number, and Sarah's. It feels final, and a small part of you wishes they could get a notification informing them you no longer consider them important enough to keep, even as data.

It still stings when you think of Joel with Hailey. She's older, more experienced, and can probably do whatever he wants without being asked. After you've deleted the Millers from your contact list, you hover over Hailey's name, pressing it and, in a moment of antagonism, send her a text. I thought you were my friend, Turns out you're just a fucking slut Then you delete and block her number.

Dating other guys doesn't come very easy. It's as if they can smell the heartbreak on you, sense your loneliness and unease, the untempered anger simmering below the surface of your smile. You're a walking red flag and you know it, but that doesn't stop you.

You grind on a guy at a club after he buys you a few appletinis. Never mind that he's twenty five and trying to get you drunk so you'll fuck him. With your twenty-dollar Charlotte Russe dress hiked up as you drag your sopping panties over his clothed hardness, he sucks the apple flavor off your tongue, one hand gripping your hips while the other slips inside your underwear to rub your clit and you come for the first time in months. So loud, in fact, that you're caught and promptly kicked out of the club. When your partner (you never remember his name) asks to continue at his place, you decline, already walking to the next bar.

Once the high wears off, you are consumed with guilt as you think of Joel. What would he say if he found out? Would he even care? Maybe he's fucking Hailey right now.

And it hits you that it's already been a year since you first slept with him.

You pause in the middle of the street, coming back to earth when a car honks at you, cursing at you to hurry up and fucking move dumb bitch!

Walking on, you can't get the memory of the feel of Joel out of your head: the way his tongue licked into your mouth, fingers traveling down to play between your folds, telling you he needed you nice and wet before he fucked you, those thick fingers slipping in and playing you like a well tuned instrument, his lips gliding over your throat, resting just above your pulse point, then finding their way down the slope of your breasts, taking each nipple between his lips, his beard rasping against your skin.

You try to force the thought away, but it returns manifold. His mouth, the stiffened warmth of his tongue lapping at your cunt, drinking up every fucking drop and telling you you taste so sweet. He doesn't stop until you come more than once, finally fitting himself inside you, teasing you with the first few inches. Sure you can handle the rest, babygirl? before sliding in in one smooth thrust, joining you body and soul, moving against you just how you need.

You cover your face with your hands and wander into an alley, overcome with despair at the loss of your love, the loss of what innocence you thought you had. Both of those things given to someone who only saw fit to fuck you as he wished and discard when he couldn't handle the reality of your personal life.

"Are you okay?" a voice asks, approaching softly from behind. You turn and see a man, another college student like yourself, dressed in jeans and a striped button down. His features blur together until all you hear is his soft Southern accent and all you smell is his Curve cologne. The next thing you know you're kissing him, begging him to touch you, fuck you, and then he's spinning you to face the wall, dress hiked up, panties pulled down. Your arms support you against the wall as he pushes into you from behind and all you think about is him fucking the pain away, pumping into you hard and fast. He's nowhere near as big as Joel, but you've been so touch starved that the sounds coming out of your mouth are shameless.

Without warning you vomit, splashing your shoes and the wall in front of you with appletini puke, and the guy pulls out immediately, getting away from you as fast as he can, tucking himself back into his jeans.

You rest your forehead against the cool brick wall, spitting out the sour taste in your mouth as tears weep freely from your eyes.

September 2004

At the start of sophomore year you're the only one who doesn't have family come down to help move in, to visit with and take silly, memorable photos with. Nobody comes to your dorm and helps you decorate and put your belongings away. By the time your assigned roommate comes with her parents and little brother you're already set up, fresh sheets on your twin bed, your side already claimed.

You're reading when she comes in, a young girl, freshman, with hope in her eyes, excited to meet you, looking forward to her new life away from Montana or Missouri or wherever she says she's from. You're barely listening.

Who you do notice is her dad: mid-forties, slight beer belly, wearing a polo shirt and cargo pants with brand new New Balance shoes. You make eye contact immediately before he shifts his gaze away. His daughter, your new roommate Jessica, starts to unpack, asking you questions about the classes, what student groups to join. You offer what advice you can, stretching out on your bed in your tank top and running shorts. Her dad's eyes roam over your curves when his wife and kids aren't looking, and you unabashedly flirt back, making sure your shorts ride up, pulling down your tank just a little to expose more cleavage.

Once they leave for a quick tour around the campus you're back to your reading.

Jessica's dad comes back. Alone.

"I think I forgot my wallet in here," he says, giving a forced look of timidity as he checks his pockets.

"You didn't," you smirk, putting your book down and sitting up. "But you can stay if you want.."

He doesn't make an excuse about his family and you wouldn't care if they walked in anyway. Once the door is locked his hands are on your body, grabbing your ass while your hand goes down his pants. You tell him exactly what will make you come, and he does it so willingly it almost touches your heart.

Later as he's leaving and you're trying to get his cum off your bedsheets, he's asking you not to say anything to his daughter, as if you'd proudly exclaim that you fucked him, having barely remembered his name.

You're learning that a lot of men are the same at their very core.

You're a fantasy for the older ones, a college coed with daddy issues and an IUD. Having already been with an older man, you know just what they like, and when you give it you live for the way their eyes light up, and a little of their youth comes back to them for a moment.

It's almost pitiful how easy you figure out the opposite sex. Once you know what they want it's easy to become that, to dress how they want, to feign interest in the things they like, even to keep your thoughts to yourself. You learn to live inside your head, which until now has been the hardest thing to do.

But it's necessary when you're holding onto the headboard of some frat guy's bed while fake moaning as he's holding your hips, going as fast as he can because that's what they do in porn. Each and every guy has a Scarface poster above the bed, or Playboy centerfolds taped to the walls, neon lava lamps on the nightstand along with CDs by Kanye West, Franz Ferdinand, or Velvet Revolver. Your thoughts are elsewhere as you give halfhearted head.

You learn to feel nothing, not even pleasure, because they certainly can't tell that you fake every sigh and gasp.

But the older men, the professors, TA's, even men you meet off campus at the bars in town.. they are what interest you. It's not common for you to find yourself bent over a desk during your professor's office hours, or with your panties around your ankles when a one-on-one study session turns to something else.

You fuck men who remind you of Joel because you can't fuck Joel. It's his hands on you instead of theirs, his breath hot on your ear.. but no one else can fill the part of you that Joel hollowed out for himself when he made you his on a hot Texas summer night.

Though you think about him every day, soon enough, you start to wonder whether he was ever even real, or just someone you made up.

March 2006

Spring Break finds you at a beach house on the coast. The friends you came with are nowhere to be found, and you're pretty sure your drink is laced with something. The music is so loud that you hurry out into the night, seeking solace before the roaring waters of the gulf, black water topped with silver waves. Their rushing sound is soothing, yet you sink to your knees because your world is too heavy.

"I'm dying," you whisper to yourself, crying. Your chest feels tight. It's so hard to breathe, and it feels like your heart will explode.

Only one person on the entire planet comes to mind, and after all this time you still remember his number. You dial it, fingers savoring the press of each button on your phone. How many times have you called Joel and hung up before he could answer? There have been a couple of times when you dialed him while having sex, not sure if he ever picked up, hoping that he heard you moving on and moving away from him. That'll show him.

But you can't even breathe to talk to him. And what if he doesn't answer? What if he's changed his number?

You leave all his numbers entered on the screen but you don't hit the call button. Not yet. You have to think of something to say. Tell him you love him before your body rejects the air it's trying so desperately to claim into your lungs.

"Hey, are you all right?" a gentle voice asks behind you, and a hand is on your shoulder.

You flashback to that night in the alley, the guy who took advantage of you, but this time it doesn't go that way.

A man with soulful eyes and a kind smile kneels next to you, his hand remaining on your shoulder. "I think you're having a panic attack. Can I help you with that?" His voice is as kind and gentle as he looks, and you nod.

"Can you breathe for me? Like this." He inhales deeply and slowly, and when you try it it feels so foreign but you manage it.

"There you go," he says quietly. "Now breathe out.."

Soon he has your breathing back to normal, and you don't have to force your body to do what it naturally does.

"Tell me five things you can see," he continues.

A shaky breath in. Hey, at least it's a breath. "Um.. the water.. the sand.. the moon.. you.."

That's when you get your first good look at him, beyond the smile that works its warmth into your heart, and the eyes that search yours, exuding humanity that you haven't experienced in a long time. He's really cute. You can't deny that your heart skips a couple of beats.

"One more thing?" he says, his voice soft.

You snap back to reality. "Uh.. a ship.. out there in the distance?"

He glances behind him at the water, seeing the great big liner, possibly a cruise ship, on the inky horizon, and takes a seat next to you. "How are you feeling now?" he asks.

"Good.. I think. Better." You nod. "Thank you."

"May I?" he lifts your hand from your lap and turns the palm up, his fingers poised above your pulse point. You nod again.

He presses his touch to your wrist, and you watch his eyes calculating, his lips silently moving while counting. Despite everything you've been through the past two years, this is the most intimate thing you've felt.

"Your pulse is normal." He gently places your hand back on your lap. "Do you want to go back to the party or do you want to stay out here a little longer? If you want to go back," he adds, "I'll be with you, make sure you're okay."

You opt to stay on the beach, embracing the quiet for a little longer. This is the first time a man has had you alone and hasn't tried to fuck you. It's nice, for once.

Towards the end of the night he leads you back to the party house, guiding you through the throng of people there, the air rife with alcohol and the pungent aroma of weed. You're holding his hand, you realize as you walk together. He's your lifeline in this very moment. You grab your jacket and purse from one of the bedrooms, passing by couples making out, some slipping into rooms to do much more than kissing. To think you could have easily ended up there with a random guy makes your skin crawl.

"What was your name again?" you shout to him over the music.

"Justin!"

"Dustin?"

"Justin!"

You both laugh. You tell him your name and of course he mishears you.

He drives you to the small motel room you're sharing with your friends who are inevitably crashing at the beach house, too drugged or drunk or fucked to return for the night.

Justin smiles at you as the engine idles. "Is it okay if I ask you out?"

You exchange numbers, your heart thrumming with a pleasant nervousness. You haven't had a boyfriend since..

..not since Joel.

Don't think about him.

"You can reach out to me if you ever just feel like talking," he says. "I'm here."

So you do, and after a week of texting and a couple of late night calls and getting to know each other, you go for a date for the first time in three years.

Justin picks you up in a Honda Civic, and as you get comfy in the passenger seat you breathe in the scent of the black ice air freshener and his spearmint gum. The radio blasts Smashing Pumpkins at a level you know is too much but it only adds to the excitement of the evening.

He's a year older than you, native to Louisiana, and on leave from the Army.

Living just a half hour from your campus, you start to spend much of your time together. Movie dates, dinner dates, and dates where you just drive around, talking about nothing and everything.

You only sleep with him three months into your relationship, desiring to take things slow for once, to know him better than you have ever known anyone.

It's nice. It's like what you see in the movies, two people wrapped up in each other, soft, no words needed. For once your head isn't forced down into the pillow, or your pussy spit on. For once it's just normal, and normal feels so good.

June 2008 New Orleans, LA

Bourbon Street is alive, electric, no matter that it's a Sunday night. People will drift into work tomorrow still drunk on Zombies and Hurricanes. The entire street reeks of piss, but people either don't care or have been here long enough that it no longer harasses their senses. But more often than not, people are having too much of a good time to care.

You're behind the bar at little hole-in-the-wall place, slinging daiquiris and kamikaze shots when you hear a familiar voice and a tap on your shoulder. "Hey there, Cherry."

You turn and your eyes go wide. "Tommy!" You reach over the bar to hug him, nearly spilling a beer on him in the process. "It's been ages! How are you?

He looks older, more mature, even though it's only been five years since you last saw him: he's letting his facial hair grow, but his eyes still sparkle with mirth and kindness. "It's good to see you, girl." He's no longer with Sofia, their romance having ended a few years before, on friendly terms or so your cousin claimed. You always blamed yourself for the demise of their relationship, believing that your breakup with Joel cast a shadow over her own connection with Tommy.

"What are you doing here?" you ask.

"We're good, just here in town, expanding the business."

"We?" Your hands start to shake, and you put away the bottle of gin you have your grasp on. Your heart starts to pound before the next words even leave his mouth.

"Yeah, me and Joel are lettin' off a little steam, wanted to toss back a few before we go back to the hotel."

You feel his eyes on you before you're even aware that he's here. Looking up, at a small table near the entrance, is Joel Miller. Your heart stops, and you don't know how it is you're still alive. He looks you up and down, appraising every feature and detail about you, and you wonder if you've changed in five years or not. You wonder if he still loves or hates you.

"...and we thought this was that bar where girls dance and pour tequila down guys' throats, but this is just as good 'cause you're here."

Tommy manages to snap you out of your trance. "Oh.. you mean Coyote Ugly.."

"Yeah, they opened one in Austin a couple years back but this one ain't never wanna go nowhere," he motions back with his head to Joel.

You return your gaze to the older brother but he's no longer looking at you, his glance dotting along the crowd, following a younger woman as she saunters up to him, smiling, flirting. Your stomach turns and you force a smile at Tommy.

"Whatever you want is on me."

Tommy's smile and laughter is infectious. "You sure about that, Cherry?"

"I'm sure," you say, pouring out a shot for yourself. "You know, nobody's called me that in a long time."

"What's that?" he catches a bright sparkle on your left hand, and quickly takes it within his own. "Cherry, you didn't tell me you were engaged!"

Joel must have one ear straining to listen because Tommy's outburst got his attention right away and he swivels his head to look at you.

"Yeah.. he's a nice guy." That's how you describe Justin to everyone: he's a nice guy. He'd proposed last year after your one year dating anniversary. "He's in the Army, they're shipping him out a week after our wedding. And I'm going with him."

"He's a good guy if he's an Army man," Tommy approves, just as Joel approaches, the woman he was talking to now gone. "So? Are we invited to the weddin'?"

You can't tell if he's teasing or not, and Joel's poker face gives zero indication as well. "I already sent out save-the-dates, but if you'd like to come I won't object. The more the merrier." For the first time you see Joel up close and your heart stutters, an irregular beat that you'd gotten used to in the aftermath of your disastrous breakup.

He's still so fucking handsome: the dark brown of his hair fading to what you can already see as gray, with gray patches in his beard. There are more lines around his eyes. There's still that jolt of electricity when your gazes meet.

"You happy?" he asks, his countenance giving nothing away of his true feelings, so it's difficult to gage whether he's legitimately asking, or simply being nice.

"I'm happy." But it sounds forced, like taking the pliers to your own mouth to fix your own abscess.

Joel only nods as you pour a couple whiskeys for them. "To Cherry getting married!" Tommy beams his salute and the three of you down the shots quickly.

It's sometime after your shift, and you're in the parking lot with Tommy, his arms around you as he presses you to the side of his truck. Or maybe it's Joel's truck. You don't know and you don't care, all you want is to feel something again. The nearness of Joel all night has rewired your brain, and as Tommy deepens the kiss, you're disappointed that it's not Joel's taste, not Joel's scent that surrounds you. Luckily he's not a bad kisser, and his hands roam everywhere you want them to be.

Better the wrong Miller than no Miller at all, your whiskey-soaked brain tells you.

"Always thought you were pretty," he whispers, hands palming your breasts over your shirt. "But you were Joel's from the moment he set eyes on ya, told me so himself. Leave that one alone, she ain't for you.'"

"He didn't want me enough.." your voice cracks as tears spill effortlessly down your cheeks.

"Don't cry," he says gently. "I don't got any tissues with me." He uses his thumb to wipe away your tears. "Still want me to give you a ride home?"

You nod, telling him you need to make a quick trip to the ladies' room to fix your makeup, and in the narrow hallway where the restrooms are hidden from the rest of the bar, you run into Joel.

"Sorry," you mumble, trying to get around him, but he puts his large hand on your shoulder to stop you.

"You gonna take my brother home and fuck him? Then marry some Army jackass?" he says as in disbelief.

You put your guard up, tougher now than you were five years ago. "What I do is my business. By the way, how's Hailey?"

"Who?"

"Don't play dumb." You push past him and start for the women's room to fix your makeup when Joel stops you again.

"You ain't gonna fuck my brother tonight, or any other night, babygirl," he utters.

There's a fire lit under you now. "Oh? What are you, the Morality Police? Fuck off."

"Fuck me," he says. "You know you want to. You're probably wet from Tommy, and I appreciate his gettin' ya ready for me, but I notice the subtler signs: your eyes are glistenin', you've been lickin' your lips every time you look at me, and you probably haven't noticed, but your nipples are pokin' right through your shirt. I bet they're just beggin' for attention, huh?"

He says all this while just standing in front of you, not crowding you like any other guy would. And you realize he's not even trying to rile you up. He's giving you a choice.

"What makes you think I want you? I have a good man who loves me. He's all I need."

"Needs and wants are different, babygirl. Once you're married you're stuck with him til' death. Hope you realize that."

"I'm aware." But it's already hit you: you'll be with Nice Justin for the rest of your life. You'll be a Nice Wife and maintain a Nice Home for the inevitable Nice Kids you'll have. You hate Joel for putting this thought in your head.

"He fuck you like I did?" he asks in an intimate tone.

You shake your head, already pulling him into the restroom with you. "Joel, no one's ever fucked me like you did."

Your body delights in the quick, sweet reunion with him. It's as if time has never separated you, as if both your hearts are whole again. His mouth greedily devours your kisses. He tastes like whiskey and cigarettes, the latter a bad habit. You're shoved into one of the stalls, fumbling with the lock while Joel's hands find their way across your body, one under your shirt, palming your breast, the other going into your jeans, expertly finding your soaked panties, crooking his fingers into your cunt.

Your back is pressed against his broad chest, his cock already hard inside his jeans, rubbing furiously against your lower back until he bends you forward to press against your ass, finally pulling your jeans and panties down in one go.

Too much time has passed for you to be gentle or even careful. He presses you to the stall door, nothing but heat and raw need between you. Words not needed, your only communication grunts and whispered curses that echo against the tiles of the cramped space.

"You ain't takin' no slow and gentle with me, sugar. i ain't got the patience for that right now." He nudges against you and it's a wonder you don't burn up with all the fire that inflames you. After so long it's a labor of love to fit him again, but as his fingers add pressure to your clit you get wetter, opening for him as easily as you did years ago.

"There she is," he says. "Been waitin' for me, been needin' a real man to fill ya up, ain't ya, babygirl?" he huffs in your ear, breath warm against your skin. "Answer me, baby."

"Yes.." your voice comes out in a hiss, your brain only thinking about his cock, the way it stuffs you, the only thing that completes you.

"That's what I thought. These lil' college boys don't know what to do with such a tight, pretty pussy. And neither does your fiance." He hikes one of your legs up, tucking your knee under his arm, keeping you nice and open, watching himself slide in and out of your weeping slit, slamming himself against you as he sinks his thumb into your puckered asshole, eliciting an all-but muffled gasp from you. "I know you called me just so I could listen to them fuckin' ya.. I know you never came with them, not once. This pussy is mine, has been from the very start."

You're no longer a virginal high school grad, and he takes what he wants from you, giving you what he knows you need.

The door opens but he doesn't stop, just quiets his own noises and clamps his hand over your mouth to squelch your sounds. The stall door jiggles and you put your hand over it until the person grumbles and walks away, muttering about having to piss. When they're gone Joel pumps into you relentlessly, chasing his pleasure and yours. He knows by now what will make you come, which combination of touches and kisses make your knees weak and your clit stand at attention.

"Fucking come for me, you little slut," he whispers, his tone almost loving if you didn't know better, and when you let go the pleasure is almost painful. Years of need and pent-up longing are released as your cunt squeezes around his rigid cock, milking him, smiling when you feel the warm spurt of his come as he presses deep at your cervix.

"That's my girl," he says proudly, your come spilling out already, lining his dick with a mix of both of you. "She's wrecked, split wide open like she's meant to be.. gonna send you back to your man drippin' with my come, used up like a good lil' whore."

His words add a sweet sting to the pleasure that has yet to ebb, resounding through your veins like thunder that takes its time in rolling away from the storm. Whore.. well, he's not wrong.

When your heavy breathing has subsided, you feel him start to slip out of you and you put your hand back on his thigh, a silent gesture to hold off.

"Missed you.. needed you," you mutter, tears of joy and relief and heartache brim in your eyes, until you allow the pleasure of the moment to take over without thought or feeling.

"I know.." he says softly, slipping out of you, careful as you're still sensitive.

That could have been the end. You could have gone your separate ways, but you're drawn to each other, and that doesn't go away easily. When you emerge from the rear entrance of the bar, Tommy looks up, and you can tell he expected that you'd end up with Joel instead. He simply nods as you pass him, walking with Joel to the tiny apartment you share with Justin, who's out of town visiting family. And as you and Joel spend the rest of the night locked in each other's embrace, you realize you don't care if he walks in on you, kicks you out, breaks off the engagement. You're with Joel and nothing else matters.

By dawn you wake up to find that he's gone, leaving only the scent of him on the pillow next to you. No note, no explanation, no goodbye. And once again you're sure you only dreamed up Joel Miller, used him as a mental escape for the life you were tying yourself down to.

It's very atypical for you to forgo a period, even at your most stressed, you can count on seeing that bright red stain on the toilet paper around the middle of every month. And when, by mid-July, you haven't even spotted, the first thing you do is take a pregnancy test.

All the men before have been careful, or you've been fortunate enough not to have a scare. But when you finally force yourself to look at the the little blue plus sign developing on the test strip, you realize this is no scare.

You're pregnant with Joel's baby.

The wedding takes place as expected, and your heart sinks when you walk down the aisle, seeing the joy on Justin's face. You've told him the baby is his, and he doesn't doubt it for a moment, that's how much he loves you. But for a fleeting moment you want so bad for it to be Joel at the altar instead.

The ceremony goes by in a blur, as everyone warned you it would. Group pictures are taken, the videographer is capturing the moments that photos alone can't encapsulate.

"Over here, honey!" photographer gets your attention. You barely hear him as you watch a figure walking out, one of the last guests to leave the church. From behind he looks like Joel, but you can't quite tell, and when your eyes fully focus, he's gone, and your own vision can't be trusted.

Tommy gave his regrets that he couldn't attend, and Joel simply never RSVP'd. But in your heart you know it was him, you know he had to come and see for himself that you're moving on, growing up and growing away from him. The only tether you have to him is the baby growing in your belly.

"Front and center, Mrs. Williams," Justin smirks, giving your cheek a soft kiss. "One more picture then we're onto the reception."

March 2009

Your daughter is born in the springtime, a loud and howling child from the moment she leaves you. The only time she's quiet is when she's in your arms.

"We need to decide on a name," Justin says, a little miffed that his daughter cries when he holds her despite his best efforts to soothe her.

"I told you, I like Ophelia," you say, gathering her into your arms to feed her.

"It's such a prissy name. And I can already tell she's not gonna be prissy."

"Then what do you suggest?" you ask tiredly. He doesn't seem to understand you've gone through labor for twenty four hours, only thinking of himself.

"Eleanor, after my mother."

You groan. "I always hated that name."

"Please, babe. It'll make her so happy to have her granddaughter as her namesake."

"Fine. Fine. But her middle name is Ophelia."

"Deal." Justin smiles as he fills out the paperwork.

"Eleanor.." you tell your baby. "But I'm going to call you Ellie."

Your mother once told you that when you become a parent, your life is not your own anymore. She said it as a kind of warning, a prophecy yet to be fulfilled when you were just a pre-teen, rolling your eyes at her warning you away from all kinds of danger.

You never expected she'd be right. Every waking moment holds more weight than ever before. Ellie is completely dependent on you, even as she grows and becomes more independent. It's you she looks to for validation when she does something right, and you she looks to when she knows she's in trouble.

She's smart as a whip, quick with a comeback and well versed in anything she can get her hands on. She excels in sports too-- individually, at first. As she gets older you notice a little bit of a mean streak in her. While she craves friends and wants to be part of a team, she has trouble making connections sometimes.

You have to wonder if part of that comes from Joel, his stubbornness and his lone wolf tendencies. Has he unknowingly passed down the most insecure parts of himself to his daughter? Sorry, his secondborn daughter?

Now there's literal proof of Joel Miller as a person, in human form, and she's trudging upstairs with her field hockey equipment and slamming her bedroom door.

Between the years of 2004 and 2008 you could almost convince yourself that he didn't exist, that he was a figment of your runaway imagination, born of a father complex and attachment issues. You work on yourself in therapy, feeling small as you divulge the innermost secrets of your heart and the intrusive thoughts, even going so far as to reveal that you've looked for Joel on social media, now that everyone has a profile.

Born of an intrusive thought, you type his name into the search bar on Facebook. Getting quite a few findings of those with the same name, you narrow the search. Joel Miller, Austin Texas His company logo comes up as its own page, and you notice it's changed, probably Tommy's idea as Joel never liked change.

Searching further you find his picture. There it is: Joel Miller, Boston Massachusetts

Huh?

You click on his profile while your heart thumps strongly within your ribcage. You wish you could let it out, set it free.

There he is, looking older than the last time you saw him, the grey more prominent in his hair, looking serious in his selfie. Even though it's just a selfie, a random moment in time, you can't help blushing, as if he's looking at you through the screen, appraising your own measure of aging. You wonder what you were doing that exact moment he took the picture.

But your hunger for knowledge needs to be fed, and scrolling down you swear you misread it at first.

Relationship status: Married

There's a roaring in your ears as your mouse hovers over the name next to those words: Tess Servopoulos

From there you check out her profile, see that she's from Detroit, five years younger than Joel. While his profile pic is only of himself, hers shows them together, on a hiking trail somewhere, Joel's arms around her from behind.

You slam the laptop shut, your blood buzzing in your veins. You feel distractingly alive, the heartache spreading through every muscle and nerve ending. Your past is brought to full fucking focus.

Against your better judgment you open the screen again and search through Tess's photos, specifically the ones of Joel. Most of the comments are from a couple of guys named Bill and Frank, who after some digging you come to find are married, and friends with Joel and Tess. You hit the jackpot when you find a video she uploaded, a fifteen-second clip of Joel holding a baby. Your heart stops when you realize the baby isn't his but Sarah's, and he's now a grandfather.

It feels like you're spying on them. You know so much about them by now, and the one glaring omission is children. They don't seem to have any.

Going back to Joel's profile, you hover the mouse dangerously over the Add Friend button. When you click it, it's the strongest rush you've felt in ages.

Weeks later, he hasn't accepted it. The sparkle of your anticipation is dulled, and with a heavy heart you click to cancel the request.

A couple years down the road you get a notification from Facebook Messenger while you're watching Narcos.

Message Request. Sarah Miller Hey! It's been forever! How are you?

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

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[hwangskitten]

Minors do not interact

this is way too self indulgent. I'm obsessed with this look of him.

reader is a med student working on a research 🙄

I'm sorry it's rushed, it's 2am and I haven't been able to add a word to any of my drafts recently but I needed to write this.

it was just another chill movie night you were spending with your boyfriend and his members. with the new album's preparations coming up, it was going to get hectic so you wanted to spend all the time you could with him.

the movie ended an hour ago and almost everyone was in bed. it was just you and hyunjin now. he was holding you on his lap, leaning on his chest with your eyes closed while he caressed your hair.

"we should do something tomorrow. do you wanna get coffee? or breakfast? I don't have anything to do in the morning."

"that'd be nice baby but I have to go to the lab and check on some stuff."

"it's fine. my little scientist. we'll do it another time"

"do you wanna come with me? I won't be long."

"to the lab? I can see your research?"

"of course angel. it's not an album I have to keep as a secret. it's for a simple article. and... we have extra lab coats you can wear."

"you still didn't get over me wearing one for that last skz code? you're so obsessed with me."

you could literally hear him smile. you weren't exactly hiding the way seeing him with a white coat affected you, nor were you doing much to cover the hickeys that littered your chest. it took one look at him after they were done shooting that episode and you couldn't stop yourself from touching him.

your field was almost the exact opposite of his. it was the perfect balance of art and science. he was fascinated with what you did and you were amazed by his. you had seen him write lyrics, pain, record, take pictures but all he'd seen you to was study and write. the boring side of being a med student. but the lab was one of the fun parts. maybe you could arrange for him to see you do other thing another time. for now, this would do.

the next morning he was up before you and possibly more excited than you thought he'd be. you had gotten him a real lab coat, asked him to do little things so he didn't get bored, answered every question he had and you may have taken a picture of him putting gloves on. no one could blame you for it, it was attractive. he was attractive. and cute. especially when he looked like a kid in a candy factory every time you showed him the petri dishes and explained what was in it.

hyunjin kept asking question after question for the rest of the morning. and honestly, it was endearing that he was interested in everything you did and showed it.

he didn't know it yet but it was the little things he did that made you fall in love with him more.

[winterlynightlystories]

Still worth fighting for? Part 1

Tw; mention of murder, Geto’s racism, future poly relationship angst.

Please do not copy/steal my work

Geto Suguru/Male Reader and past Satosugu

Future Geto Suguru/Male Reader/ Gojo Satoru

Summary; As you are remembering how you and Suguru ended up together, his ex-boyfriend shows up at your place. The presence of Satoru doesn't seem to be appreciated by anyone in your little familly. Yet, there isn't other choice, since Satoru is there for a mission. But his presence awake old memories… old feelings.

Note; not proofread! And yes… I'm starting yet again a new series, but I couldn't resist writing about this dynamic and how the story would have gone if Suguru hadn't become a cult leader/Curse User. But don't worry, I am not forgetting the rest of my stories!

~~~~~~~~

You woke up with sweet kisses all over your face. You chuckled, feeling Suguru’s long hair tickling your bare chest and neck. Slowly opening your eyes, you were greeted with the sight of your tired boyfriend. Dark circles under his eyes and skin sickly pale, you could see the effect of the sleepless nights Suguru went through. You gently passed a hand in his hair, pulling him closer so you could kiss him.

- “Good morning gorgeous.” you said, feeling Suguru melting in your arms and smiling against your lips.

- “I don't think I look that gorgeous right now.” He mumbled, making you laugh.

- “Nonsense, you'll always be the sexiest man in my eyes.”

He laughed, pushing you away as you kissed his neck, putting your hands under his white shirt. Suguru’s skin was warm… too warm.

- “How are you feeling? I'm sorry I've been neglecting you and the girls. You shouldn't be the only one taking care of them. You'll end up as sick.”

- “It's okay, I'm fine. The girls haven't gotten back their voices, but their fever is almost gone. They finally fell asleep.” Suguru replied, laying down next to you, resting his head on your chest. “You have been busy with work, I can't hold it against you.”

- “Still, you need to rest as well. I'll call sick so you can enjoy a good hot shower and some sleep.”

- “No, you don't have…”

- “It wasn't a proposition, I'm going to do it.”

Suguru sighed, yet you still could feel his tired smile against your skin. You kissed his forehead, hating how sweaty and warm it was. Nanako and Mimiko had caught a terrible flu at school. The poor things were coughing so harshly that they were throwing up and losing their voices. The fever went so high one day that Suguru had to take them to the hospital. You remembered the fear and panic you felt when Suguru called you. His voice filled with worries had broken your heart. Thankfully, you were able to leave and join him.

Playing with Suguru’s hair, you remembered how all of this started. It was at school when you both were only seventeen. It was soon after the death of that poor girl, Riko. How her terrible faith had broken Suguru and, besides you, no one seemed to notice it. Not even Suguru’s then-boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.

Suguru and you grew closer as you became his only support, keeping his head out of the water as much as you could. You often went on the same mission, because you asked for it, feeling like Suguru could break anytime. It was during one of your missions that you saved the girls. You still could remember how Suguru almost snapped. The coldness in his eyes, the murderous aura around him. It had taken everything for you to calm him down. You basically kidnapped Nanako and Mimiko, but in the end were able to keep them.

Well, Suguru did, while you lost everything. You took all the blame, trying to protect him.

It was always obvious that you loved Suguru. You were often mocked by Gojo and teased about how Suguru was his. How, even with his six eyes, did Satoru never realize you also liked him? That was a mystery that would never be solved.

So it was a surprise when Suguru abandoned the school, and everything before he left Gojo to follow you. It wasn't long until you found a place to call home far from Tokyo, almost on the other side of the country… then you started a romantic relationship.

Suguru stayed mostly at home, taking care of the girls and teaching them everything about their world. About becoming Sorcerers. You noticed how your man had a bad tendency to call Non-Sorcerers ‘monkeys’, but in the end, you understood him.

So while Suguru took care of the twins, you went to school and became a police officer, but quickly was promoted to detective. It was a job that cost you a lot of time. Being called days and nights, sometimes not even coming home for a day or two.

Just like now.

You were on the strangest case you ever saw. An ungodly amount of blood had been found in a back alley, enough to assume the victim had died from blood loss. Yet, there was a report of sighting. But the witnesses all said the same; the man wasn't acting normally and he had a new large scar and stitches all around his head.

It didn't make sense.

So, when corpses began the pile-up you contacted the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, knowing damn well you were dealing with Curses. Something had taken control of a dead body and you preferred letting them deal with that weirdness.

You were supposed to meet with the Sorcerer affiliated to the case today, but seeing how Suguru and the girls were, you preferred calling sick. You'll meet later at night or tomorrow, it wasn't urgent after all.

A knocking at the bedroom door had both you and Suguru sighing. You kissed him on the forehead before slowly getting up.

- “Go take a shower and then rest. I'll take care of the girls.” you said as Suguru closed his eyes and nodded.

You found Nanako standing behind the door, her eyes red and puffy. Her hair was soaked with sweat and she was slightly shaking. Without a word, you scooped her up with an arm, putting your other hand on her forehead.

She was burning.

- “Okay. Let's do another round of pills and syrups, okay? I'm going to take care of you, Suguru is resting.”

She said nothing, after all, she still couldn't talk. Instead, she wrapped her arms around your shoulders and rested her head against your neck. You almost flinched, feeling just how burning her skin was. You cursed mentally, thinking about taking her immediately to the urgences. But you couldn't leave Suguru and her sister behind. You would wait and if really the fever wasn't going down, then…

You carried Nanako back into her bed, grabbing the medicine on your way. You gave it to her after helping her to bed. You didn't leave the room until she was fast asleep and made sure her sister was alright too.

You hated seeing the Twins so sick, but there was nothing you could do but wait until it passed. It was, after all, the first time they were so bad. Normally they would have the flu for a few days then it would go away.

You sighed as you got out of Nanako and Mimiko’s bedroom. You hoped that Suguru wouldn't get as sick as them.

You could hear the shower which made you smile, wanting nothing else than to join your boyfriend under it and take care of him. But, you had a few calls to make. A single look at the clock told you all you needed; your boss wasn't going to be at the police station before at least one more hour. So you called your partner.

- “Oi, mate! Why are you calling so early?” the voice of your old partner and friend asked, as he chewed on something. “Is everything alright?”

- “No. Haru, I'm afraid the girls aren't doing better and Suguru definitely caught the same thing. He's already having a light fever.” You sighed, putting the kettle on the oven. “I won't be able to make it to the post today. Can you pass the word to the captain?”

- “Of course! I hope you don't need to go to the hospital again?”

- “I don't know. Nanako was burning hot and passed out after I gave her her medicine. If her fever doesn't drop I won't have the choice.”

- “Shit! Keep me informed. I’ll ask Inko to drop you some soup. My wife’s cooking is the best when sick! You'll see, your girls are going to be better in no time.”

- “Thanks. Can I ask you to take care of our Sorcerer friend? Just give him the big lines, I'll meet with them tonight or tomorrow to give him the rest of the case.”

- “Yes, yes! I will. Do you know who they are going to send?”

- “Nan. Probably a first or second grade, this isn't something big enough to require one of their best elements. Probably some trashy Curse trapped inside a corpse or something like that.”

Haru was one of the rare persons around you who had Cursed Energy and could see curses. But the poor fellow was mediocre at best when it came to any kind of fighting style and he knew it. So he never even tried to become a sorcerer. Instead, he married his wife when they were freshly out of school. They both knew your and Suguru’s history and had always been a comforting presence in your lives ever since. They always loved to keep the girls from time to time, giving you and Suguru some alone time.

So you felt relieved knowing Inko would be coming around during the day. She would be such a great help to take care of your sick family.

After hanging up, you poured yourself a hot cup of tea before sitting at the table, trying to relax your nerves. In the silence of the apartment, you heard Suguru turning off the shower. Your boyfriend was probably drying himself before going to bed. You want nothing more than to go back to bed and cuddle him, but it is your turn to stay up and take care of the house.

So you did. You washed the dishes and cleaned the living room, grabbing the girls’ stuff they had left around. Mostly school things. You found Nanako’s pull under the sofa, somehow and Mimiko’s socks under the TV. You sighed, throwing them in the washing machine before starting the laundry.

You took the time to make sure the girls were fine. You found them sharing the same bed, unable to tell which limb belonged to whom. You smiled, touching their forehead. They weren't as warm as earlier. You pulled a thin blanket on them before leaving their room.

You found Geto sleeping curled up in the mess of the blanket and discarded clothes. He had a pale grey shirt and his boxer, but nothing else. His shirt was slightly pulled up, revealing his flat stomach and ribs. He had, again, lost some weight.

You heard your phone ringing, but you ignored it, deciding to lie down behind Suguru. You gently wrapped an arm around him, pressing your body against him. You felt his body relax as if he recognized your presence even in his sleep. You closed your eyes, nose buried deep in his damp hair.

You needed to call work and take a longer leave, at least until your little family was back on its feet. And you needed to take Suguru on a date and spoil him after he did so much. Maybe you needed to think about leaving your job for a less demanding one. Suguru and the girls needed you too after all and you hated missing on special occasions.

Before you knew it, you were fast asleep.

You woke up feeling Suguru moving, grunting you tried to keep him in bed with you.

- “Someone is knocking at the door.” he said with a tired voice and you sighed.

- “Stay in bed, it might be Inko. She is supposed to come give us a hand and some soup. Maybe she forgot her key.”

You got up, leaving Suguru in bed.

But as you approached the door, you knew it wasn't your friend. The shadow at the window was way to tall and that hair… You stopped in your tracks, refusing to believe it. But the figure knocked again and you had no choice but to open the door.

And there he stood.

Gojo fucking Satoru.

Somehow the man got taller, but he was still the same. Instead of his round sunglasses, a black blindfold covered his Six Eyes. A smudge grin painted his lips. He chuckled, seeing your shocked expression.

- “What? You haven't gotten a call from your partner?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

- “No, I didn't pick up. I was focused on tacking care of my sick family. Anyway, what are you doing here?”

- “Ouch. No ‘Happy to see you!’ or ‘It's been so long, but you still look good Satoru!’?”

- “Yes, yes, but it's not what I mean. Why are they sending you for something so banal? Anyway, come in. Tea?”

You got out of the way, letting the man enter. You closed the door behind him and, as you went to the kitchen, saw him freeze at the entrance of the living room. Gojo must have seen the picture of your family.

You poured two cups of tea before joining Gojo. You found him sitting in the sofa and staring at the wall where you had hung many pictures of you, Suguru and the girls. You couldn't tell which one Satoru was staring at. The one from last year at the beach? Maybe the one of you kissing Suguru outside as the snow fell around. Or the one where your boyfriend sat at the table, helping the girls with their homework? Either way, you could see how tight Gojo's jaw was closed. You almost feared his teeth would crack under the pressure.

- “Here. So, why you?” you asked, giving him the tea before sitting in the armchair facing him.

- “Because it's not the first time a situation like this one happened. We think it might be a Curse User.” He said, not even moving his head. You could tell he wanted to ask question, but didn't press him.

- “Really? I haven't heard of anything similar around here.”

- “Not here, in Tokyo.”

- “Ah…. Yes, we don't really look at the news from there.” you mumbled, sipping at your own tea.

The silence was loud and heavy.

You two were supposed to be talking about the case, but you just couldn't talk. You had this mass in your throat making it difficult to swallow your tea or even your saliva. A part of you had, ironically, missed Satoru. Even if the man had been a dick all the time you were at school, you still had good memories. Because he still gave you a hand when you needed it.

And you stole his boyfriend.

Which was making you the bigger asshole in the room.

- “What the fuck is he doing here?” Asked Suguru, making you jump and drop your tea on you. Suguru came to you, hearing you curse. “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.”

- “It's okay, don't worry.” You replied, letting Suguru take your empty cup. “Satoru is here for the case. Apparently, it's not the first time it has happened.”

- “And you believe him?” He asked, grabbing your phone as he sat on your lap. He had put on your pair of jogging.

- “Su’ what are you doing?”

- “Making sure he isn't lying”

You sighed, wrapping one arm around Suguru's waist while caressing his knee with the other. You gave an apologetic look at Satoru, mouthing a ‘Sorry, he is sick.’ while Suguru talked to whoever was on the other side. Poor Gojo was so tense he seemed frozen in place and you felt bad for him. The man didn't ask to be here, didn't ask to witness you loving on his ex. You knew that Gojo definitely still had feelings for Suguru. How could he not? Everyone knew just how in love they used to be.

You sighed, watching Suguru throw your phone on his own lap, grinding his teeth.

- “True?”

- “Yeah. They did send him.” he sighed, giving Satoru the side eye.

- “I’m sorry. Want me to go…” you tried to talk, but Suguru signalled you to shut up.

- “No. It's okay, but I’m staying with you.”

- “Babe, I need my suitcase.” you pointed out, but without a word, Suguru got up and left.

You sighed and passed a hand on your face, knowing damn well this was going to be one hell of a case.

- “I see he is still angry at me.” Satoru said, voice so low you almost didn't hear it.

- “Honestly I don't know. I don't even know what happened between you two. Suguru doesn't like talking about it, so we don't.” you replied, looking at him.

- “We fought… about you.” Gojo admitted, looking away.

- “About me?”

- “Yeah. About how I acted toward you, especially after your expulsion. Suguru left me, pointing out how you were the only one who had noticed how he was truly feeling after… after Riko. Well, that and more.”

You were silent, not knowing what to say. They had broken up, over you? Suguru had defended you, even before you were an item?

You felt your heart swollen with love for Suguru. He was such a strong and kind soul. You loved him even more, if that was possible.

You smiled, almost stupidly, as Suguru came back into the living room, throwing your suitcase at Satoru before sitting back on your lap.

- “Come on. Quite at talking about that day, why don't you repeat what you told me?” Suguru asked, his voice filled with so much venom you almost didn't recognize it. “Are you doing it or should I?”

- “I…”

- “You told me, and I quote “Well, if he is such a great and good man, why don't you leave me for him? Clearly, he would be a way better boyfriend than me!” that's what you told me, right? And yes, he is a way better boyfriend than you ever were.”

You gasped, looking back and forth between the two men. Gods, you really were behind their break up!

You wrapped your arm tightly around Suguru, pulling him closer to you. You took his hand in yours, kissing his fingers. You hated seeing him like that. Angry, hurt and uncomfortable in your own house. You wanted to leave and go somewhere else, so Suguru wouldn't have to face Satoru, but it was clear your boyfriend wasn't going to leave the two of you alone.

This situation was more than awkward and uncomfortable.

The silence that followed Suguru's statement was heavy. Terribly heavy. But, surprisingly, it was Satoru who broke it.

- “I'm sorry. I was cruel and neither of you deserved it. Especially you, Suguru. And I'm not looking for forgiveness, because I know I don't deserve it. I don't want revenge either, I'm just happy you got to build a family and be happy.” He sighed, looking away. “But we have a job to do and a Curse User to catch.”

Against you, you felt Suguru slowly relax. Had he been afraid that Satoru came to try and conquer him again? Or hurt you? You kissed Suguru’s fingers again and he gave you a weak smile. The dark circles under his eyes seemed worse, but his eyes had found back their softness. You mouthed an “I love you” while Satoru was opening your suitcase and pulled out all the documents and photos you had about the case.

You also relax, thinking that maybe working with Satoru wasn't going to be so hard finally.

No.

The hard part was going to try and forget how your heart still missed a beat when you felt his eyes looking at you. Or how Suguru refused to meet Gojo’s gaze.

Yes.

The hard part would be to act as if there were no more feelings when, obviously, they were still there. Intact and waiting.

[rindousbbg]

Summery: You are sick and a your childhood bestfriend taking care of you.

Genre: Fluff?

Warning: none, typos. (Not proofread)

Requested: No.

A/n: I planned to make a oikawa fic but changed to him because I love him.

You and tsukishima has been friends since childhood along with Yamaguchi. you both would bicker with eachother over the smallest thing and Yamaguchi have to butt in to solve the matter. 

But despite that you both cared for eachother, even though you both would say awful things yet you both won't leave eachother's side if needed. But ofcourse you won't tell eachother that. 

but today is different, you caught a flu and your parents were gone for business purposes leaving you alone. Your migraine has gotten worse than it was before. 

cough after cough left from your mouth. you were tired of this flu. Can't breath properly. You sneezed for the fifth time. 

But you for startled by a sudden knock on your door. 

"Come in" 

You spoke in a low voice, you had a sore throat. 

"You shouldn't let anybody enter into your room without asking who are they"

a the door flew out and the owner of the voice traveled himself. 

"It's fine, it's you."

"But there would be some time I won't be the one standing, so be careful" 

"Awww someone's caring" 

he glared at you making you laugh. 

"What brings you here kei?" 

"Your mom informed me that you caught flu, came to check on you"

You smiled at him cheekily. 

"Is that so? Wow thanks kei"

You giggled once again but soon coughed.

"God, you look awful" 

"What did you just said?" 

"You got a hearing probelm??" 

You shot a glare at him making him chuckle.

"aww is the little kid getting mad? Sorry didn't mean to"

there was it again. His snarky comments. 

you both bickered for some time and then he decided to ask about your medicine. 

"Mhm, I'm taking them"

lie. 

He clearly knew that how much you despise medicines, 'it's bitter and hard to swallow' that's what you say everytime you try to take medicine. 

"Yeah sure"

he opens the drawer and took out the medicine box, it looked like nobody touched it yet. 

He took out the medicine and handed you. 

"C'mon hurry up, i don't have all day"

He groaned. 

"How did you even-"

"Just take it"

He handed you a glass of water and forced you to take the medicine. 

"Kei i hate it"

You throwed some tantrums at him which didn't worked since he looked unfazed by it. 

Due to not eating anything your stomach grambles as loudly as possible making you whine. 

The blonde male sighed knowing you haven't touched any food. So he decide to cook something edible. He isn't a good cook at all but he knows the basic to make a porridge. 

"Here"

He placed the food on your bed carefully not to drop it. 

You had a disgusting expression on your face. Knowing you won't touch the food he hold the spoon to your mouth almost shoving it which made the spoon hit your lips and you let out a soft groan and he took the chance putting the porridge inside your mouth. 

"Kei, what the hell"

he rolled his eyes and didn't said anything while feeding you the porridge. 

After finishing the food (you almost threw up) he decided to put you to sleep. 

"Wait you still have one medicine left"

He quickly took out the last medicine and handed you, you lazily took it. 

Finally tiredness was getting you, so you laid down more and pulled the sheets closer to your body making you curl up into a ball. 

He noticed your tiring state and thought you have fallen asleep. 

"Sleep tight"

He whispered quality, not wanting to wake you up. And places a soft kiss on your hand before leaving.

(But little did he knew that you never slept that time. This gesture of his was enough to make your stomach churned up in happiness) 

[miks-delusional-blog]

Just hold my hand - Mizu x fem! reader

Tags: fluff, very minor angst (not really angst?) Idk how to tag sorry I’m a noob, Mizu just being a bit anxious, that’s as angsty as it gets

Notes: In 2nd person (you), 858 words, Mizu x Fem! reader

Context: you and Mizu are friends(?) with romantic tension (I'm projecting).

Little A/N: lmao ran out of fanfics to read so I wrote one!

Guys I haven't written fanfic (and posted it) since I was 14 YEARS OLD. I'm 20. The passage of time is so scary.

I'm open to criticism but please be gentle.

Enjoy <3 Love Yamz x

It was a cold day. Just a few days after the new year. The golden sun slowly travelled over the horizon, the moon and stars chasing after. You and Mizu were walking through a bustling crowded street, lined with street vendors. 

The two of you walked together, slightly trailing behind her. Occasionally you’d remark,

“Those steamed buns smell so good, we should come back here later!”

“Woah…”

“Ooh, that’s so cool, don’t you think?”

“Isn’t that bracelet cute?”

And Mizu would hum in reply, nodding and agreeing with you nonchalantly. 

As the two of you continued through the street, it seemed to get busier and louder. Your voice was getting quieter as everyone else got louder, their conversations drumming against Mizu’s ears. As Mizu walked, a necklace caught her eye. One she expected you’ll comment on.

But she’s met with silence.

Mizu, a little confused, turns back to look at you, but you’re not there. She looks around, walking back the way she came. She scanned the stalls but she couldn't see you. It didn’t help that the street had gotten busier.

‘Where are you?’ she thinks.

Before she realised, she became frantic. Barging through the crowd, she called out for you, her head whipping around just for a glimpse of you.

‘Where are you?’

Did something happen?

Maybe you got lost. Or maybe you had gotten distracted.

Had you been taken without her realising? There’s no way. She would have noticed. Right?

Had you abandoned her? No, there’s no way…

Desperate, Mizu began asking people if they had seen you. They’d brush her off, or roll their eyes, but she didn’t care. 

‘Where the hell are you?’

Mizu pulled herself to the side of the street. She felt her heartbeat thumping in her ears. She needed to calm down. Collect herself. You couldn’t have gone far. Why had she gotten so worked up about you? You’re not a child.

She let out a sigh to calm her breathing. She scanned the crowd again. 

‘How could I let the thought of her get me so rattled? Fucking ridiculous.’ She thought, gritting her teeth.

‘Where the fuck is she? That brat. Always fucking wandering off…’ finally her eyes settled on your figure.

You hadn’t spotted her yet. Mizu watched as you looked around at the busy crowd with nervous eyes. 

In a way it comforted her. Your nervous form, looking around for her. It quelled her previous anxieties of you possibly being kidnapped or of your abandonment. Mizu smirked a little at your image.

“Mizu!” You called out with a wavering voice, still not seeing her. 

‘This feels a little sadistic now.’ Mizu chuckled to herself. She walked over to you, pushing through the crowd.

Mizu called out to you when she was a lot closer. 

“Mizu? Mizu!” your face lights up when you spot her, relief washing over you. You ran up to her, hugging her before pulling away slightly, remembering how that wasn’t her thing. “Oh right sorry-”

To your surprise, she pulls you back into her embrace. She lowers her head close to your ear, “Where the hell did you go?” Her words are sharp but her voice is unexpectedly soft.

“Sorry, I got distracted. I saw something at a stall and I called out to you, and I thought you heard me so I went over. But, we got separated.” You said, feeling a little embarrassed. 

Mizu lets out a sigh, her eyebrows knit slightly. “Why didn’t you just tap me or something?”

You look at her puzzled, “But, you don't like being touched.”

“I don’t mind if it’s you.” She barks, a little frustrated. You flinch a little at her tone. Realising her harshness she let out another breath trying to calm down. She stepped back, separating from you. You felt the absence of her warmth.

“Look,” she began crossing her arms, “I’d rather you touch me for two seconds than having to spend an hour looking for you. You’re lucky that you just wandered off this time. Next time we get separated like that, I’m not gonna come looking for you. I don’t care if you get kidnapped or swallowed by the earth.” 

You felt yourself heat up in embarrassment. Averting eye contact, “sorry…” 

“I need to get you a bell so I don’t lose you. In the meantime…” Mizu held out her hand towards you.

You paused, looking down at it a little confused.

She rolls her eyes, “Just take my hand.”

You abided immediately.

The two of you began walking down the bustling street, hand in hand. Her hands were cold and rough but being so close to her made you feel warm and safe.

After a moment of reflecting on your conversation, “Mizu?”

“Yeah?” she glanced over at you.

“Did you think I got kidnapped?” You enquired. 

She briefly paused, “It was a possibility that crossed my mind.”

You smiled, beaming “Oh…you really do care about me.”

“Shut up. Don't be a brat.” 

You laughed, bumping her shoulder softly. She rolled her eyes, looking away from you. But still she smirks, shifting her grip in your warm and soft hand.

[canmom]

Hello! I absolutely love your blog, everything from your festival recounts to animation analysis and programming (one of tumblr's recommended posts was the one where you made your own rasteriser, and I liked your attitude in what I've read so much that I'm gonna attempt to conquer my 3-year-long grudge against using opengl during college and do something similar now that I'm a bit older and have no deadlines :D).

But anyway, I have 2 questions (sorry if there's easily accessible answers, tumblr search is not helping): 1. During your animation nights, does the screen stay black while everyone watches their own video while you provide commentary? I haven't caught any yet but maybe someday! And 2. do you have any youtube channels or just one-off video essays that you like that also cover animation/directors? Or, even programming lol.

Sorry for the long ask have a nice day!

hiii! i'm very touched that you like my dorky eclectic blog <3

For the Animation Nights, I just stream the video over Twitch from local sources on my computer, typically by playing the video in mpv and recording it in OBS. This is obviously not ideal from a video quality perspective, but it's the easiest way to watch video in sync without making everyone download files in advance. Then we all chat in the Twitch chat box (in large part to crack stupid jokes, it's not that highbrow lmao). I've gotten away with it so far!

As for youtube channels, I can recommend...

anime production/history (i.e. sakuga fandom)

SteveM is likely the most sakuga-fan affiliated anituber. He makes long, well-researched and in-depth videos on anime history, usually themed around a particular director or studio.

Pyramid Inu might be my fave anituber - very thoughtful analysis of Gundam, obscure mecha anime and oldschool BL and similar topics. tremendously soothing voice too.

The Canipa Effect does excellent deep dives into the production of specific shows, both western and anime. I appreciate the respect he gives to the Korean animators of shows like AtlA in particular!

Sean Bires's 2013 presentation on sakuga is pretty foundational to this whole subcultural niche, and a great place to get an introduction to the major animator names to know and significant points in the history of anime. unfortunately a couple of the segments got slapped down by copyright but the rest holds up!

animation theory (for animators and aspirants)

I'm going to focus here on resources that are relevant to animation in general, and 2D animation. if I was going to list every Blender channel we'd be here all week :p

New Frame Plus is one of the best channels out there for game animation, describing in tightly edited videos how animation principles work in a game context and analysing the animation of various games. highly recommend

Videogame Animation Study is similar, examining the animation of specific games in detail

the 'twelve principles of animation' (defined by Disney's Ollie Johnston and Frank Thomas) remain the standard approach to animation pedagogy; there are various videos on them, but Alan Becker (of Animator vs Animation) has quite a popular series. I haven't actually watched these but many people swear by them! Dermot O'Connor expands the list to 21. Note that some of the terminology can be a little inconsistent between different animators - c.f. 'secondary motion'...

Dong Chang is an animator at Studio NUT, who produces a lot of fantastic, succinct videos on standard techniques in the anime industry, timesheet notations, etc. etc. Studio Bulldog, a small anime studio, are a good complement; they focus more on douga than genga and are generally a bit more traditional.

programming

big topic here, I'm going to focus on game dev and tech art since that's my field. but also some general compsci stuff that's neat

SimonDev - graphics programmer with a bunch of AAA experience, fantastic explanations of advanced optimisations and some of the more counterintuitive aspects of rendering

Acerola - graphics programmer who makes very detailed guides to a variety of effects with a very rapid and funny 'guy that has seen monogatari' editing style. When he's good, he's really good. His video on water is probably the best one I've seen (though I can recommend a couple of others).

TodePond - the most charming, musical videos about recursion and cellular automata you've ever seen. less programming tutorial and more art in themselves.

Ben Eater - known for his breadboard computer series, a fantastic demonstration of how to go from logic gates up to the 6502 with actual hardware. worth watching just for how clean he puts the wires on his breadboards like goddamn man

Sebastian Lague, Useless Game Dev - both do 'coding adventure' style videos where they spend a few weeks on some project and then document it on Youtube, resulting in a huge library of videos about all sorts of fascinating techniques. great to dive into

Freya Holmér - creator of the 'shapes' library, makes videos on mathematical programming, with gorgeously animated vector graphics. Her video on splines is a particular treat.

There are definitely many more channels I can recommend on these subjects, but I'll need to dig into my history a bit - unfortunately I need to rush out right now, but hopefully that should be good to be getting going with!

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Dress Up Part 4: Last Preview

This will be the final big preview for y’all, I’m hoping to have this finished by Sunday! Luci’s here! There is one little nod towards some naughtiness~

You laughed to yourself, now slightly more worried. Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea after all, but you’ve already come this far. You sauntered through the front door and made your way towards Lucifer’s workshop, right where you left him. You knocked on the large wooden door. No answer. You slowly opened the door and realized Lucifer was not at his work bench. There was, however, a small handwritten note on top of his desk. You made your way over and picked up the beautiful hand written letter.

Welcome back, my love! If you're looking for me, I'll be in the kitchen! I have a surprise for you! ♥

~ Your Luci

You smiled sweetly at his letter. Before you made you made your way to the kitchen, you took a small detour to your bedroom, hiding Asmodeus's gifts under one of the large pillows on the bed. The gears were turning in your head as you formulated a plan. Finding your way to the dining room, you were greeted to the site of a lovely set table complete with a large vase full of pristine red roses with petals decorating the tablecloth beneath, flickering candles, and golden cutlery that glistened in the candlelight. Lucifer always knew how to go above and beyond, the view was nothing short of perfection. You took a few steps more and pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen, at last laying eyes on your husband across the room. He mustn't have heard you as he hadn't turned around. The sweet familiar smell of chocolate chip pancakes permeated the air as you watched him effortlessly flip one of the pancakes back into the pan. Ever the showman even when no one was watching. Or, at least he thought as much.

"It smells delicious in here," you called out to him.

"GAH!" Lucifer exclaimed in surprise, losing grip on the pan which clattered to the stove top. He turned around, his face softening and flashing you his signature toothy grin. "Oh, honey, you're back!" Quickly, he turned the dial on the stove to the 'off' position and discarded his 'Kiss The Cook' apron, tossing it to the floor and wrapped you in a tight embrace, his lips pecking every inch of your face before stopping at your lips. "You startled me! How dare you sneak up on me, and on our anniversary of all days!" he said playfully, placing another quick peck to your lips.

You could only giggle in response. "I'm sorry, Luci. I didn't think I had the power to frighten the devil himself, though. You're lucky I didn't try to give you a hug just now!"

"Oh, it would have been an unmitigated disaster, I assure you!" Lucifer joked. "But don't worry, all is forgiven. You're just in time too! Go have a seat out there and I'll be right behind you."

He gave you one last kiss on the forehead before releasing his grip on you and making his way back to the stove. You did as he asked and took a seat in one of the two empty chairs. Less than a minute passed before Lucifer threw his hip into the door carrying two huge stacks of pancakes in each hand, placing them down ever so delicately in front of you. With a quick snap of his fingers, your pancakes were doused in a cacophony of strawberries, bananas, and syrup.

"Bon appétit," Lucifer chuckled. He took his seat across from you, outstretching his hand to hold yours while you indulged in your perfect breakfast for dinner. "So tell me," Lucifer started to say after swallowing a mouthful of pancakes, "where did you disappear to today?"

You stopped chewing for a moment and swallowed the bits of banana that remained. "O-Oh, nowhere special. I was just...looking for a special gift."

"A present for moi?" Lucifer feigned surprise. "Do I get to know what it is?"

"Soon, love, I promise," you reassured him, "I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise too soon. We haven't even gotten to dessert yet!"

Lucifer leaned down an placed a small kiss to the back of your hand. "Unfortunately, I didn't have enough time to prepare anything. Please forgive me," he looked up at you with a small seductive grin. "But there is something sweet I've been dying to taste all day, my darling, and it's sweeter than any dessert I could ever conjure. I'm practically starving!"

You felt your cheeks burn as you smiled back at him coyly. After patting your face with your napkin, you stood up slowly and took a few steps towards your insatiable husband. You bent down, pressing your soft lips against his ear. "You need to learn to control that sweet tooth of yours, Luci," you teased him. Lucifer let out a shallow breath. You took a few steps back, placing your hands on your hips. "If you want dessert, you’re going to have to earn it." You snapped a portal open behind you without so much as a warning. “Come find me!” You sprinted through the portal, finding yourself in the adjacent hallway across from where you left your ravenous lover. You heard the dining room doors crash open followed by an amused laugh.

“So that’s how you want to play it, huh?” Lucifer’s voice carried, “Alright, then…”

[vivwritesfics]

warnings: mentions of death

Series Masterlist

"It's the first home race for Oscar Sainz and everybody is rooting for him."

Oscar was proud to be wearing orange as he stood on the circuit, listening his national anthem. The twenty four year old had his parents there, watching him and cheering him on.

He wanted his sister there, too, but she was busy. At nineteen years old, Valentina Sainz was running the Sainz family. Well, not completely, not yet. Carlos was still the head of the family, but Valentina did a lot. He was setting her up to take over the family one day.

So that her parents could watch Oscar, Tina stayed at home to take care of any work that needed doing. Her grandma was there too, helping her out. Women have always run this family, her grandma often said to her. There was one exception, Valentina's mother, but she let that part out.

By the time Tina was sixteen, she was used to having bloody knuckles. She loved the feeling of it, that might have made her a monster, but she didn't care. She loved seeing the imprint of the ring her father gave her on somebody's skin.

Valentina had watched Oscar's races on television whenever she could. When he moved into F2, she watched on the television with her mother, while Carlos travelled with him. The family hated being apart, but it was for Oscar. The Sainz family would do anything for their children.

Oscar was an insane rookie. Valentina had watched on the television as he scored points in almost every race in his first year. It was crazy just how good her brother was. It was a mystery to everybody how he hadn't gotten a seat until now.

Oscar brought along one big sponsor, his family. Of course, they were known as something else, a front of a company to hide the real nature the of Sainz family money.

Oscar scored points all the way through his rookie season. He finished eighth in the drivers championship, which his family understood to be incredibly good for a rookie.

For his last race of the season, Tina wanted to be there. Her grandma took over the role of head of the family for the weekend, with Carlos on speed dial, while they went to watch Oscar in Abu Dhabi.

He did incredibly well in his final race, achieving his first podium. His mother was crying, his father was beaming, and Tina was incredibly proud of her brother. Oscar ran straight into their arms.

Many of the families congratulated Oscar at the few events he had to turn up to. Almost all of them watched racing, watched as he climbed his way to the top. Fernando of the Alonso family told him that he would be a world champion in no time. And he would be. He really would be.

Oscar knew who he was named after. He knew that Oscar Piastri, the man that had saved his mother, the man he was named after, had wanted to race. He wanted to do what Oscar Sainz was now doing.

Oscar visited his grave site. Over the Australian Grand Prix weekend, Oscar and his parents went to visit his grave. There were always fresh flowers, Carlos made sure of that.

"Hey," Oscar said as he sat in front of the headstone. He'd asked his parents for privacy and they'd given it. "It's Oscar, Y/N and Carlos's kid." He'd visited the grave only twice before, when he and his father were in the country for racing purposes.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited you more," he said as he pulled his orange McLaren hat from his head. "I made it to Formula One, by the way. I know that was your dream, too." Actually, Oscar had something written on his helmet, so small that most couldn't read it. It was his mothers idea to have 'For Uncle Osc' printed on the back of his helmet.

"I wish I could have met you," said Oscar as he placed his hat on top of the headstone. "I bet we would have raced together. I think that would have made my mum really happy."

Oscar stood up from the ground. He touched his fingers to the headstone and turned around, walking away from his Uncles headstone, back to his family.

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[your-therian-parent-says]

My little beasts, I just wanted you all to know that I've been swamped in work this past week, but I will answer every single ask that I've gotten in time. I'm so sorry for those who needed them sooner. I have an off day tomorrow and I'm setting aside time to get through either all of my inbox or at least a huge chunk. I've already read them all and I'm sending you all my most sincere love and support through anything you're going through. Remember, the moon listens, and so do I, even if I haven't replied yet, I see what you send almost immediately, and I hope the new day brings you a breath of fresh air while you wait for a howl back. Stay wild, and stay you. You're never alone in all of this. I'm here for you.

-Your Therian Parent