#it is perfect for th season

[ctl-yuejie]

KBL blessing us with the gay farming fantasy

love tractor (2023) ｜ some more (2018)

[crossbackpoke-check]

Why I Am Not Coming In To Work Today [abridged], Jess Zimmerman

part one | part two

[thebroccolination]

How I'm Navigating 2024 (Blorbo Edition)

I'm a big believer in the quality of life being vastly improved by the anticipation of good things to come (concerts, movies, anniversaries, hang-out sessions, etc.), so I like mapping out what I'm excited for.

And in terms of queer media, I'm pretty well sorted for the year. \:D/

Right now, I have these two:

And these two:

Once Cherry Magic and Ossan's Love end, I'll have these two:

And after Young Royals ends, I'll have these two:

And then when Untitled Vampire Series is over, I'll go into paroxysms of genteel screaming while I wait for whatever these two are doing:

So I have a pretty stacked year, all told.

[scarysanctuary]

the chucky series, even when i dont love or even like a decision that is being made plot/character-wise, or even when it flat out makes me cringe, i love it so much, and always have fun, theres truly nothing else like it out there in the horror space. i will always respect Don and people like him that are continually trying to shake things up, and transform their craft, it takes guts. as a viewer, it makes me feel that my time is being respected, hes not just phoning it in and doing the same stuff every season out of fear of ruffling some feathers or not sticking the landing. when he takes these chances, some of it is gonna be a miss, not everyone is going to love it. some plot lines are too thin, hurried and lacking the proper weight, while some drag on too long, this show would benefit from a finer precision, patience and focus. every season i get the feeling that they are fearful of not being renewed and that they have to go at a 100 mph to get everything that they want jammed in there, its chaotic and makes deep emotional investment almost impossible, in my opinion. which, they seem to have a lot of pride in their kills, and as a gore hound, i do love them too, but i dont necessarily think it needs to be as big of a focus as it has been, what i mean by that is oftentimes kills, and the body count in general, are prioritized over a good plot line. killing off Ms Fairchild so soon after introducing her as their foster mother was plainly just a bad decision, they could have shown their dynamics grow closer behind the scenes, she wouldnt have even had to be directly helping the kids, so the story that we got wouldnt have been impacted, but instead she could have played a motherly role whenever they came home from their misadventures, until finally the kids are getting close to her, letting their guard down and BAM then you kill her. the way it was executed in the show though, sure it was surprising, but shock only lasts so long, but heartache lingers, case in point, the kids didnt seem that affected by her passing and didnt even mention her later on. you cant have most of your characters treated like canon fodder but also try to pull at our heartstrings, expecting us to get invested when we know you are going to kill them at the end of the episode, you've got to have patience, let these relationships breathe. BUT, as i said, i do love the show and will always want more, i do think that this season was a good set up for a much better season 4, the potential is there, and seeing how much the cast and crew wants it to be renewed as well is heartwarming, it really is like a family

[marypsue]

Ahh also as an addendum to my previous ask about the age swap (which I might’ve accidentally labeled as the body swap fic due to the foibles of being awake unexpectedly early ), I was curious what your criticisms are regarding Robin and Will’s treatments by the Duffers? I know you’ve alluded to being bothered by both but I’d be curious to hear more ( if you have the time/hankering!)

Hooboy. Okay. Buckle in. 

Obviously this is going to be a combination of actual literary analysis and Big Feelings That I Have, so like, please don’t take this as any kind of moral dictum on what to or not to watch, or how to or how not to interpret what you watch. Also, a lot of what makes me uneasy and unhappy about how canon deliberately handles queerness (as opposed to when it does queer things apparently by accident, which as you may have noticed, I have considerable amounts of fun with) has to do with behind-the-scenes context I’ve read about, so there’s a certain degree of Telephone involved. And I’m still only halfway through season four. There’s just so fucking much of it. 

With all that said. 

The behind-the-scenes context I’m most specifically concerned with are the season-one pitch bible(? I think that’s what it’s called) (which, it should be noted, ended up diverging in some quite significant ways from what ended up in the show) where the Duffers first raised the possibility that Will might be gay, and the anecdote that Joe Keery and Maya Hawke were the ones who decided Robin should be queer and had to really push for it and wrote and choreographed that scene in the bathroom. Put the two together, and it tells you that the Duffers planned that there would be One (potentially) Gay Character in their show. 

And that character was the one they spent an entire season directing violent, vicious, eventually outright murderous homophobic hatred at through the mouthpiece of a couple of bullies. You can say what you want about revenge narratives and those characters ultimately getting their comeuppance, but for Me Personally, it sucks all the fun and escapism out of season one to watch it thinking that those bullies only got punished when they aimed that vitriol at someone to whom it didn’t literally apply. Also I still have to sit through however many episodes of that vicious homophobia onscreen regardless, so, like, that’s a walk in the park anyway. /sarcasm 

And then there’s that whole bad business in season three, where it’s never been quite clear to me if we’re supposed to see Mike as having been in any way in the wrong. Kind of scuppers the argument, to me, that we’re supposed to be on Will’s side. And season four, which so far has had Will tagging along after people who are supposed to be his best friends but mostly don’t seem to give a single damn about him, doing absolutely nothing but looking morose and sullen and tragic and *coughcough* Artistic, and causing Problems for the nice straight couple. 

(Tangential to the point I’m coming to, but also, my son deserves better than to be reduced to a soggy cardboard standee with ‘GAY’ scrawled across it in magic marker the way season four seems to be angling toward. All the Byers, but especially the Byers boys, deserve better than season four seems interested in giving them. But I digress.) 

Also. I love Robin. If you follow me, you probably know that. I’m a hardcore, ride-or-die Robin girl. But. With Robin, from what I’ve heard of the context, the Duffers never intended for her to be queer. They wrote a girl who was smart and funny and sharp and talented and a little bit mean and a little bit insecure and a little bit weird but in an interesting, endearing way - as a love interest for Steve. 

And then, as soon as season four rolled around, once they’d been pushed into making her canonically, on-screen queer (in a beautiful, tender, heartfelt, true-feeling scene that they didn’t fucking write), suddenly she’s had a complete personality transplant. Suddenly, she’s an awkward, bumbling, annoying loser who’s only funny when she’s the butt of the joke, who’s no good at anything and who nobody really likes except maybe for Steve, an outcast even amongst the freaks. When she does do something smart or competent, everyone around her reacts with shock, like it’s wildly out of character instead of how her character was originally written. One of these versions of Robin was written with ‘gay person’ in mind, and it unfortunately wasn’t the one we were obviously supposed to like. 

In both cases, I get the feeling that the storytelling issues stem from this like...assumption that queerness equals isolation and misery and tragedy, and that there’s nothing to queerness outside of that. That there’s something inherent to queerness, something pitiable but repulsive, that causes the isolation and misery and tragedy (not that those things are imposed from outside, by, say, violent homophobia). That it would be absurd to imagine that queerness could ever be joyful, or playful, or that someone might ever, given the chance to choose, not choose to be straight instead. Or that there could be enormous friendship and community and heart and pride in queerness, or even that queer people might find friendship and community and strength in each other. Or even fucking talk to each other, ever. 

Which is especially infuriating, because the whole central theme of season one (besides surface appearances being deceiving) is that community and care between people who are very different but discover they have more in common than there is that separates them is what saves the day! That love comes in all kinds of forms, and they’re all important, and that love can be stronger than fear! 

But apparently, according to the Duffers, queer love doesn’t count and queer community doesn’t exist. It’s just isolation, misery, and tragedy, and I guess we the watchers are supposed to sit outside of it and pity Them for it (and be quietly, sneakily, a little bit nastily grateful that it’s not happening to Us). Because of course nobody watching the show is queer. Of course. This show is made for normal people. 

It’s part of the same attitude I’ve also seen play out with the Duffers’ inability to just let a white dude be bad. Oh, they want to talk a big game about how they’re on the side of the freaks, and bullies are bad, and everybody should be respected and appreciated for who they are. But when it cuts down to the bone, when applying that precept to a girl or a person of colour or a queer person makes a straight white guy come off as a monster, they keep trying to dodge it. 

The more antagonists they try desperately to rehab without ever acknowledging why they were antagonists in the first place, the more it starts to look like they simply don’t really believe that the people those antagonists hurt really matter. That, somewhere deep down where the assumptions that are so baked in you don’t even realise they’re assumptions live, they don’t really believe that girls, or Black kids, or queer people are as fundamentally human and deserving of respect and compassion as their beloved awful straight white men are. That what they really think about bullies is that bullies are bad because the bullies picked on them, instead of the kinds of people who deserved it.

(See also: that time a twelve- or thirteen-year-old Sadie Sink didn’t want to have to do a kiss in the Snow Ball scene, so the Duffers, who had just been joking about having her do it, actually made her do it. For multiple takes. Specifically because she didn’t want to. And then later related that anecdote to the press. Because they thought it was funny.)

Anyway. Personally, I’d prefer canon just never say anything definitive on the matter of Will’s sexuality and stop trying to push the narrative in that direction, so I don’t have to watch the Duffers spectacularly fumble yet another attempt at Writing About Marginalised Groups. 

(Also, this is absolutely not me saying Watch A Different Show - I’m here writing fanfic for this stupid show, it’d be pretty fucking rich of me to try to tell people to stop watching it. But I’d really love for many of its fans to get some more exposure to less-mainstream, more deliberately queer literature and film, so y’all can see what it really feels like to be seen and acknowledged and loved by a story, on purpose. I get it! I do! I too have wanted very badly to feel like something I loved, loved me back. 

But you don’t have to content yourselves with scraps. And you definitely don’t have to be so concerned with those scraps that you blame your friends, cousins, siblings, brothers in arms for ‘stealing’ some kind of ‘representation’ from you by asking to be seen and acknowledged and loved as well. The bastards who’ve been withholding that recognition from all of us would love nothing more than to watch with amusement, gorging themselves on a banquet, while we tear each other apart over a couple of discarded bones. Don’t give them the satisfaction. We don’t have to be isolated, pitiable, pathetic, miserable tragedies. Put the hollow promises of exclusionism and respectability down. There is queer art and literature and film and community and joy and love in abundance that you don’t have to beg anyone for, and you are invited to participate. This is me inviting you to participate. 

And cordially inviting the Duffers to meet me in the woods behind the 7-Eleven.)

...

tl;dr the way the Duffers treat queerness when they do it on purpose feels like a combination of othering, contempt, and misery porn, and I hate it. And that, in a nutshell, is the rant I’ve been sitting on for the last two-and-a-bit years. I’m getting down off the cafeteria table now. 

[rainyraisin]

HJEBCKEBDM WAIT UR WHAT???? Are you gonna spare me at least so we can watch Beyond The Spiderverse when it releases in a couple of years 🥺🥺🥺

fuck looks. relationships NEED to based on your ability to be SILLY TOGETHER!!!!!! you better be laughing together or ELSE

[andivmg]

My experience with Luke (Punz)

CW: toxic relationship, racism, dubious consent

I know in the past i said that i would no longer speak about him publicly, and when talking about my experiences with abuse and emotional mistreatment i begged to keep it anonymous but after reflecting on this for a week and seeing so many incredibly smart and strong women tell their stories. they have given me the strength to say his name.

this is really scary to talk about because of the copious levels of harassment i have received from his fans in the past so if this spreads or gets out of hand i will simply log off.

If you read my last post, i nicknamed him 1.

So aside from everything i said there, there were a lot of things i didn’t include because they would’ve made it obvious that it was him and it could potentially backfire on me so, i’m very afraid to post this. but i’m going to do it scared anyway, because it’s not fair that he gets to just go and live his life worry-free as if he didn’t practically ruin mine.

Because I already made a very lengthy post about him, i won’t include everything i said last time to avoid being redundant but if i repeat myself, please bear with me.

In our year long relationship i had to endure emotional neglect, gaslighting, verbal abuse, one instance where there was dubious consent, and much more.

Starting off at the beginning of our relationship, that’s when i was getting copious amounts of hate and harassment from his fan base (warranted or not), he decided that our relationship must be kept private. he said it was to “protect” me from his fanbase when in reality it was to protect himself. it was so he wouldn’t get all the backlash i was getting. this is funny because one of the things i got called out for was saying the B slur (derogatory term used against mexicans/latinos). I won’t get into the nuances of if i could say it or not as a puertorican because that’s discourse that does not pertain to this specific situation. But you know who definitely can’t say it? A white boy from Massachusetts. When i was getting cancelled for this and getting thousands of tweets calling me names, he decided that was the perfect time to say “I mean you are a b***** aren’t you? my little b*****.” Now, he said this completely unprompted. I was in the process of writing my apology and he just said that. I tell you this because i immediately shut him down and told him that there was no universe in which it was okay for him to say that word and especially not one where he could just call me that. While i was reprimanding him, he was smiling and laughing. he apparently found it amusing to call me a slur. regardless, he gave me a half-assed apology and said he wouldn’t do it again. and he didn’t. but this wasn’t the only time he was weirdly racist to me. this was my first time being in an interracial relationship so i was led to believe that this was normal by all the white people around me at the time. But, sometimes my spanish accent would come out and he would make fun of me and the way i pronounced some words. He also refused to visit me in Puerto Rico when i lived there or come meet my family when i really wanted him to because he “didn’t like the heat” or “it’s dangerous there isn’t it?”. Once, while we were watching season 2 of Bridgerton, he implied that the Sharma sisters were “too dark” for him to be attracted to them. This hurt me because they are brown skinned girls. I am a brown skinned girl. Then this, combined with the fact that he told me once he wasn’t attracted to me made me feel like my skin color was unattractive. These are only a few examples i can think of at the moment, but i’m sure there were more. Our relationship ended in 2022 so some of my memory is a bit hazy. But, I do remember feeling inferior to him throughout the relationship because he was white and I was not. I chalk that up to all the micro aggressions i had to deal with because i had never felt that way around white people before.

Another thing i had to endure was him constantly making me feel like he was embarrassed to be with me. Because i was cancelled, he didn’t want to associate with me too much. He did defend me on multiple occasions, I’ll give him that. But, he only did it because his name was getting dragged in the mud along with mine. Excusing my actions made him look better for being around me. In reality he didn’t really care. Because he was such a big content creator and someone i looked up to professionally, I took his advice as law. He told me to tone down my personality, to keep a low profile, to change things about myself to be more palatable to his audience. The same audience that spoke about me like “The pussy can’t be that good punz please stop defending her”. So i changed a lot of things about myself and my content to better suit what his audience liked. He made me feel like if his audience liked me, he would be public about our relationship and stop hiding it. He told me the reason why he wanted to keep our relationship a secret was because he didn’t want to get hate for it. But this wasn’t true. On my 20th birthday he went to Las Vegas for a twitch rivals event. That night i asked to facetime him to say goodnight and he refused because he was at a hotel room with his friends and he didn’t want them to know that we were together. It was as if my mere presence or the utterance of my name was a source of embarrassment for him. And he didn’t let me forget it. It wasn’t just a public thing at that point. He didn’t want people to know we were together, period. This was devastating to me because I would talk to all my friends about him. I was so proud to be with him and I was just one more problem to him. He made me feel so small and insignificant just because his fans didn’t like me.

He would berate me a lot. Not just due to getting heat online, although he did do that a lot. But in general whenever we would get into an argument or a disagreement he would always call me names like annoying or weird or stupid. He would raise his voice at me if i did something he didn’t like and call me an idiot. And that really hurt, i felt like i couldn’t bring up anything or do anything without getting insulted. If I hadn’t seen him in a few days because he was too busy streaming and i asked to hang out he would call me needy, clingy, and annoying. Granted, he might not have been wrong, but that is not something you say to someone you claim to love. He also insulted me when i was in depressive episodes. I have BPD and at the time i was not being treated properly for it. So, I was all over the place emotionally and he was what i clung to for validation, reassurance, and love. I talked to him when we first started dating about my disorder and told him that if it seemed like something he couldn’t handle that he could opt out of the relationship. I guess he didn’t think it was that bad or something idk because whenever i had really bad depressive episodes, he would tell me I was too sad to hang out with. He said that my sadness was a burden to him. Which would be fair. But, once my mother had a conversation with him about me. She told him that i am someone who needs a lot of love and caring. She said that if he wasn’t willing to put in that kind of effort into a relationship to just leave me alone. He reassured her that he would be there for me no matter what. He told my mother that he would protect me and my heart. He did not. He took all the warnings I gave him and ignored them and then made me feel like I was the problem. And even worse, he would say that i was pretending to be sad to get his attention when he would neglect for days at a time.

There were also some smaller things like the fact that he made me feel really guilty whenever he would spend money on me. Also, he would be really mean about my eating habits. For context, i used to suffer from an eating disorder. I was anorexic and had a really unhealthy relationship with food during high school and my first year of uni. This relationship began when i was recovering from my ED. For me, eating was really hard. So i had certain comfort foods that, while sometimes unhealthy, at least it was something to eat when i didn’t feel like eating anything. He knew this. Yet, whenever i would crave some of these foods he would call me fat. Constantly told me I’d gain weight from eating all that junk food. Saying that to someone with an eating disorder is crazy. Other smaller things were that whenever I would post tiktoks where i was lip syncing or just looking good he would yell at me and say i was looking for attention. Same with Instagram or Twitter whenever i would post photos where I looked hot. He never planned out a single date for us. I would beg him to get me flowers and he did maybe once but i’ll get into that in a bit. He would make fun of me in front of his friends to make himself look better. He let his friends say really degrading things about me in his presence. For example, once when i was showering, i overheard him on a discord call with George and Sapnap and i heard George say “if you don’t go in the shower and have sex with Andi, i will”. Once, when i was really struggling with my legs (for those of you who don’t know, i have arthritis and it’s very painful. at the time i wasn’t diagnosed but i was in a lot of pain) I literally could not walk. I had to beg him to take me to the ER because i didn’t know what was wrong with me. He didn’t want to take me but eventually i convinced him, and while we were there all he did was complain about how long it was taking and that he would have rather been at home streaming. Whenever I would talk about my interests that i was excited about like shows or books he would be incredibly uninterested and say that those things were stupid and he didn’t want to hear about them. I know all of these seem very silly or superficial but cumulatively it was awful.

Now for arguably the most serious thing i’m going to talk about. I want to preface this by saying i am just telling my side of what happened. You can come to your own conclusions about this.

On April 25, 2022 it was our one year anniversary, and i had made a dinner reservation for us. I expected him to plan something throughout the day for us to do. He told me he was going to spend the whole day playing Valorant so I got upset and cancelled the reservation. After a very heated argument, we calmed down and i asked him to come over. He came over about an hour later with flowers and drinks (I was 20 at the time so I couldn’t buy the drinks myself). He brought Smirnoffs and Trulys. For context, I am a lightweight. I always have been. I literally get tipsy on half a cocktail. And that day, I hadn’t eaten anything because i was in distress over our argument. So we get to talking and drinking. I blacked out after my second Smirnoff. Apparently I drank 3 but I genuinely cannot remember anything after finishing the second one. The next morning i woke up naked in my bed. I woke him up and asked him “Luke, why am I naked?” and he said “Because you didn’t want to put your clothes back on.” When I clarified to him that that was not what I meant, he got defensive and said that he didn’t realize how drunk I was. He proceeded to tell me that I initiated sex with him and that i was very enthusiastic about it. He said he didn’t know i could black out on three smirnoffs. He made fun of me for being a lightweight and continued to make light of the situation. Then he mentioned that i fell off the bed at some point in the night and that it was funny how drunk I was. I then questioned him. Because if he thought that me tripping and falling off the bed because i was so drunk was funny, how did he not know that i was too drunk? He responded by saying that i fell off the bed only after we were done. That day I broke up with him. I’m still really confused about what happened that night. I don’t remember anything and all I have to go on is what he said to me. We were in a relationship at the time and he says he didn’t know how drunk I was so I’m not sure what to call what happened. A while after that day, his friend that hmu while we were broken up and I started talking again and i confided in him about that night. He told me to be careful saying things like that because they could get me into trouble. I spoke to some of our other friends about it and they told me it was no big deal and that it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know how drunk I really was. Because I don’t remember, I have been led to believe that this is not a serious matter. You can think what you want, come to whatever conclusions you want. That is just my side of the story.

I want to add that I’m not proud of how I acted after the relationship ended. I felt really angry at all the shit he put me through and I guess a part of me wanted him to hurt even a quarter of how I did. So I started talking to his friend and got involved with him. This backfired on me because his friend ended up really hurting me too so ig i got my karma. But the thing that hurt the most is that because of what I did, some of our friends took his side in the break up. I was told that I did something terrible by getting involved with his friend that he was already insecure about and that he didn’t deserve that. These are the same friends who were witness to the dumpster fire of a relationship we had and all the things he did to me. They turned their backs on me because of this one thing I did. But stood by and watched as he treated me like garbage for over a year.

I will conclude this by saying that while this relationship has been “over and done with” for almost two years now, I carry a lot of trauma from it still. I still talk about him in therapy and have had to put in a lot of work to heal from what he did and i still cannot say that i am okay. I am very blessed to now have a patient and understanding partner who has helped me heal from that trauma and i just want to quickly thank him for that. Nobody deserves to go through what I did. While yes, it was a toxic relationship, and I had a part in that, it does not excuse all the awful things he said and did to me. This is my truth, thank you for taking the time to read it.

[sharky-teeth]

top dean/bottom sam fics that perfectly exemplify why bottom sam is the best (the list got kind of super long because i'm just too passionate about this topic):

take the things you love by hathfrozen: i think everybody and their grandma knows this one but i had to include it, this is our gospel. literally changed my life.

mommy dearest by tradwifesam: if you don't like feminization, read this and see the vision.

Softly, as a morning sunrise by LaughableLament: one of my go-to authors for fun and short PWPs.

Noise Complaint by formalizing: a lesson on how to make a thousand words count!

Coast On Through by philalethia: this actually contains switching, but when i tell you it has some of the best samdean scenes ever...

Feel About the Same Most Every Day: pining that you can feel in your bones.

Like a Machine by ani_coolgirl: camboy!sam perfection.

Untouchable for Life by Sintari: another one for my camboy!sam enthusiasts.

Undertow by Molly: starts out angsty and ends with psychic sex vibes, what's not to love?

Birthday Boy by DickBaggins: sam's ass is dean's birthday present, need i say more?

Keeping it Clean by themegalosaurus: swesson filth <3

this thing, for which we break by orbiting_saturn: intense and intimate, as PWP as it comes.

Sweltering by WhoopsOK: brothers with benefits done right. slutty sam as a treat!

weecest:

With A Bit Of Spit And Luck by elsi: in my top 5 weecest of all time, which is saying something because the competition is crazy.

Bulletproof by road_rhythm: gunplay! incredible characterization, if you have a kink for guilty dean who's unable to stop himself, and pushy sammy, this is the one.

Heart of Worms by Ninni: very moody, and beautifully written.

Petulant by formalizing: another short read that hits all the right spots and leaves you wanting more.

and all is right in Dean's world by ladygizarme: loved dean's characterization here, he left me feeling unsettled.

for those like me who need some jokes with your p*rn:

The Koala Conundrum by De_Nugis: (mentions of switching) to this day, one of the most unique & refreshing stories i've read, an absolute masterpiece.

the one with aphrodisiac: this one managed to be hilarious and hot in equal measure, an amazing feat.

Incidentally, It Was Christmas by ani_coolgirl: one of my favorite fics of the year! ani's humor is impeccable! if you also believe in the sam-sexual dean truth, this is a must read.

Tongue-Tied by ADeedWithoutaName: cursed!dean unable to speak, and sam speaking for both of them, you know where this goes...

Dicks in a Box by fictionallemons: buried alive and how do sam and dean decide to spend their time? it ain't cuddling!

Versatile, Tender and Delicious by themegalosaurus: improper use of a zucchini. read and find out.

for my omega sam lovers:

Five Weeks & its sequel Three Weeks Too Late by rei_c: probably my favorite wincest a/b/o of all time! i could've read 100k of this universe, loved the details put into it.

A Blind Fool's Luck by hellhoundsprey: this is also a favorite! i remember the tension in this fic had me dizzy. this author has an incredible way with descriptions, vivid and unique writing style.

Phantom Pain by hellhoundsprey: weecest! love their dynamic here so much, great blending of a/b/o traits while keeping them in character.

Clover by hellhoundsprey: perfectly done late seasons getting together! with the right amount of schmoop. clearly this author is very dear to me lol

know the feeling by sammyatstanford: this is the longest work in this list, around 40k words, and so worth it! really enjoyed the worldbuilding.

now to my favorite flavor (bottom sam with a side of delicious angst):

Lesser Evils by Dyed_Red: [non-con] not for everyone, but definitely for me. if you love samdean at odds and suffering, this will push all the right buttons. life-changing fic.

Is It Tomorrow (Or Just the End of Time) by elsi: the angst here is so glorious. from beginning to end it's angst, angst, then more angst. there is no resolution to their issues, and i love that.

Collision Course by lovetincture: one of the most believable first time stories i've read, spot on characterization and raw descriptions. didn't shy away from the ugly side of incest.

You can run away with me any time you want by Trojie: sam leaving for stanford fic! oh this one hurts like a motherfucker. there's a line in here that's so beautiful, it lives in my brain.

his skin barely keeping him inside by hathfrozen: another banger by hathfrozen, i have a weak spot for first time in a long time stories.

No such thing as Forgiveness by hellhoundsprey: lawyer!sam getting his life sent off track when big brother comes back to the picture... the unhealthy dynamic here is to die for.

Blood sacrifice sex magic type of thing by Goshen: sam performing ritual sex to cure his demon brother... as he should.

Worship Not These False Idols by killabeez: ruby fucking sam while pretending to be dean. as amazing as it sounds.

Circles of Light by WhoopsOK: there is a "Magical Healing Ass" tag. enough said

end of list! i tried to only include works with less than 10k hits here, so someone might find something they haven't read before. i didn't include warnings, so definitely check out the tags first. all these fics are seriously amazing, i hope more people will read these gems <3

[slamminslamminmcgill]

deadpool’s dirty talk game would be so good during a smoke session 😵‍💫 picture it y’all imagine passing a bong back and forth yapping to him about one of your hyperfixations and he starts rubbing your cunt while you talk

“yeah so what actually happens is that-ah! gah-fuuuck, yea-a-ahhh…”

“yeah? keep talkin’ babe, i’m listening…”

your train of thought COMPLETELY derails. so now you’re just babbling nonsense about how good he is with his fingers.

“th—… uh… that, that feels good…”

“i can tell. feels like monsoon season down here.”

then he curls another finger and starts to rub your asshole, threatening to add to the two he’s already got in your pussy.

“what? you seriously got two holes for dick between your legs, and you think i’m not gonna use them both? pretty boy, don’t you get it? you’re god’s perfect bottom. you were MADE to take cock in a way that faggots like me can only dream of. it’s not right for me to let you waste half your potential like that.”

he lubes your ass with your own pussy juice and then slips one digit in.

“oh, now, thaaat’s a good boy. you opened up pretty quick, huh? yeah, that checks out for a whore like you.”

he slides his fingers out,

“open.”

then into your mouth. you dutifully suck them all clean.

“yay! good boy! who’s my dumb little whore? you are! yes you are! oh, you’ve DEFINITELY tasted THAT before. good boy!”

he pulls his wet fingers out of your mouth, holding it open so he can pull his mask up and spit in your mouth. you swallow, naturally. he then hands you the bong and the lighter.

“here’s something to keep you busy. now if you’ll excuse me, i’m going down on you for the next hour and a half. alright! talk to ya soon! love ya!”

[aerieza]

NEW PIERCING ☆ hobie brown

⠀ ⠀ ☆. warnings — black female reader. black coded. reader has a tongue piercing + pierced nipples. praising. backshots. male oral. nipple licking. creampie. pet names. reblogs & comments are always appreciated! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

as you watched the new season of never have i ever from the comfort of your bed, persistent knocking on your window echoed throughout the room. without even directing your attention to the shadow in the window, you immediately knew it was your boyfriend, hobie.

"you know, i have a front door for a reason, love."

"i know, but what's the fun in that, sweetheart?" he beamed you a smile revealing his perfect pearly whites and a spikey smiley piercing above them.

"whatever makes you happy." you giggled while unlocking the window to give him access to your champagne toast candle-scented and dimly lit bedroom.

"i missed you a lot, bee." you gestured for him to enter and he climbed inside, ducking to avoid hitting his head due to his extreme height.

your boyfriend was dressed in the adorable badtz maru pajama pants you got him for christmas and a random band tee from decades ago. he dropped his tote bag adjacent to your bed and scrubbed off his black crocs.

"i missed ya 'n your absolutely leng face, love."

his heavy body walks toward you, steps creaking the floor as he quickly plants two kisses on your cheek making a loud mwah sound. he got himself comfortable fast by plopping down on your mattress, crossing his legs, and supporting his head with his arms underneath.

"i stopped by 'ere earlier, seems you weren't home."

"i was busy," you said with a hint of thrill in your tone while closing the window that allowed a chill breeze into the room. the cold air sending goosebumps down your exposed body since you were only dressed in baby pink panties and an oversized kuromi tee.

"busy, yeah? wif what exactly?"

“earlier, i did a thing." you mischievously smiled, joining him on the bed and sitting at the edge with your legs crisscrossed.

"a thing?" he reiterated while smirking, cocking one of his eyebrows up in interest. “do i wanna know?”

you nodded, crawling up the bed and positioning yourself onto his lap, straddling him with your thick thighs. he slid his smooth hands across your bare skin, resting them on your ass and giving it a tight squeeze. you shivered from feeling the coldness of his silver rings all over his fingers graze against your ass. “but you have to close your eyes."

"ah, why? i wanna be able to see your beautiful face." he curled his lips into a playful pout. "that's why i came over darlin'."

"it's just for a second. i want it to be a surprise, pleaseee?”

"alright, alright fine, anythin' for you, love.”

“but make it snappy, yeah? there’s somethin’ i need to handle after this.” hobie’s voice softened and you could feel his stiff cock slowly growing underneath your body. he shifted uncomfortably, pushing his hips up and aiming is dick right in the center of your lacy panties, desperate for the friction to satisfy himself.

"and what's that?" you titled your head a bit and grinned, moving a little closer to his face.

"you.” he spoke faintly and a low chuckle left his lips once he felt your heart rate speed up. hobie's pet names for you dripped off of his tongue were laced with an addictive substance, you never got tired of hearing them.

"we'll kill two birds with one stone then."

“what’d you mean by th—”

"no more questions, now eyes closed," you cut him off and said firmly. he raised one eyebrow slightly and stared at you with a puzzled look. soon after, his brown eyes disappeared behind his fluttery eyelids

you relocated to the edge of the bed, adjusting yourself to be in between his legs like you were a predator about to pounce on your prey. you slipped his pajama pants down just enough to reveal his well structured v-line and the top of his long shaft.

“i see we’re rocking no underwear tonight.” you giggled.

"y'know, giving me head was at the bottom of my guesses for a surprise, but it definitely did not disappoint.” he chuckled and opened his eyes, not wanting to miss the pretty sight of you on his cock.

you pulled down his pajamas even more and his thick, un-cut, and well-trimmed cock sprung out, already leaking out sticky pre-cum. you took a second to admire how pretty his dick was with your acrylics wrapped around it. he was so big, you had to hold him in both of your tiny hands.

he stared with glimmering eyes like he was in a daze from watching you trail up and down his shaft with the tip of your slimy tongue, the cold metal from your tongue piercing felt like ice to his sensitive spot. his breath immediately hitched from the cold feeling.

“f-fuck. wait wait wait.. that's different."

"what is that you got? it's fuckin' wicked, doll."

you briefly released your mouth from his cock, a string of your saliva still attached. you held out your tongue and on the very tip, a shiny silver bar protruded through your tongue with two hot pink balls on both sides.

"i liked the way yours felt on me, so i wanted to return the favor." you stared up at him with your soft doe eyes, a sly grin appearing on your face.

hobie was speechless for a second, all he could do was stare at you as you continued to take his shaft into your mouth. he muttered under his breath in sheer astonishment.

"you naughty lil’ girl."

taking hobie's full length down your warm throat, happily gagging as his tip hits the dangly piece in the back of your throat. your vision became blurry since your eyes were glossy and full of built-up tears. a single one fell down your cheek and he wiped it aside, caressing your flushed cheeks as you continued to suck him dry.

he bit down on his puffy plump lip, coating it in a sheer layer of saliva as you bobbled up and down on his cock. the room echoed with sloppy lewd sounds of slurping, spit running down your chin and creating a pool of saliva dripping down his balls. you were such a sloppy eater—you swallowed his dick like you had no manners.

"you're so fuckin' pretty with my dick in your mouth baby." he groaned, staring down at you in admiration with one of his veiny hands gripping a chunk of your faux soft locs. he used his free hand to hold onto your silk bedsheets like his life depended on it. you met his gaze and a tiny smile formed on your face from watching him squirm.

his dick was spasming under the wetness of your tongue while his moans and groans got louder. looking up at his face, you saw his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes shining down at you with need.

after five more minutes of straight gargling his whole dick n balls, with your jaw being close to locking, he carefully pulled you up to meet eye-to-eye with him. he sat up and propped himself up with some pillows and you were positioned back on his lap with your soaking panties on top of his bare dick.

while still catching your breath, you and hobie's lips interlocked and you swirled your tongue all around the perimeter of his mouth, both of your silver tongue jewelry making contact and creating a clanking aroma.

he trailed down your neck, planting wet peppered kisses on your boiling skin. the heat transferred to all of your body like wildfire. he gently wrapped his hand around your lower waist and forced you to arch your back, giving him a better angle.

he tugged your tee off in a quick pull, throwing it somewhere in the room, and watched your pierced titties drop out like he was hypnotized. he licked his lips before devouring each, one at a time. flicking his tongue on your deep brown areolas, reaching your nipples and sucking on them, feeling the cold metal warm up from his tongue.

after slobbering up and down your chest, he directed you to lie down on your stomach. placing a pillow underneath your hips to keep you elevated, making him able to go directly to your g-spot.

sliding your pretty pink panties to one side of your ass, revealing your sopping slit patiently waiting for his dick. "you ready, love?"

hobie angled his hips so that his spit-coated tip was resting on the top of your ass. pulling your panties to the side, he slipped two slim fingers inside of you with ease and curled them upwards, reaching for your sweet spot. he felt you tighten on his fingers and he palmed himself while he fantasized about switching the fingers for his dick. he lowly muttered to himself, “you’re so fuckin’ wet for me.”

you nodded while nibbling on your cotton candy lips and he slowly slid his dick inside of you, giving you time to adjust to his large length. gasping at his heavy dick stretching you out, you pulled a pillow from the top of the bed and stuffed your face into it. he hissed between his teeth when he felt how tight you were around his dick.

"h—hobie.." happy tears swarmed your eyes, you panted, clawing your nails into your sheets, your brows curling upwards while you bit down on your lip, merely drawing blood.

"you're doing so good for me, love. c'mon, i know you can take it."

hobie, balls deep inside of your pussy, effortlessly making you lay on your elbows and making your back arch. the room was filled with the sound of his sack making contact with your aching clit. he hums to himself at your soft mewls into your pillow as he gently spanks you with his free hand, caressing it after each smack.

he was never rough and aggressive with your body—he didn’t throw you around like a rag doll and do whatever he wanted with your body. with him, he didn't degrade you and call you those names either. whats better is that he knew exactly how you desired to be touched and talked to for the ultimate oorgasm.

it was never just sex—hobie made love to you. he was gentle with your body, he treated it like a delicate flower. he consistently made sure you finished, multiple times at that, before he even thought of doing it himself. he never skipped the most important part either, the coming down and aftercare.

your brown irises rolled to the back of your skull and the only audible words you were able to mutter were "h—hobie." and very whiny, "o—oh my goddd's." your french tip-painted toes curled up as he fucked you with the perfect contrast of pleasure and pain.

"turn around, love. i wanna see that pretty face of yours." he rasps in a low tone while moving all of your hair to one side and wrapping his slender fingers around your neck. he lifts one of his legs up, titling his body at an angle to reach deeper inside of your sopping cunt.

you whimpered and slowly you turned your head back to meet his lustful gaze. he thrusts in and out, in and out, and your pussy sang out many wet squelches. your whiny babbles and soft moans got louder as your pussy constricted around his dick, you could feel yourself getting closer to cumming but holding off for him.

"you wanna cum all over this dick, yeah?" he shakily says. he could tell you were close by the way your body trembled underneath him and your mouth was wide open, eyes rolling back to the depths of your skull.

"y—yes yes, please!" you cried out, your sweet and desperate mewls filling the air. he held onto you tight to keep you from running away from the urgent and precise thrusts that both of you had been wanting so bad.

"o—oh my goddd.. i'm cumming!" painting a sheer coat around his throbbing dick as the palm of your hand pressed against his abdomen, trying to push him away.

"that's it, love, get it all out." he praises as you come down from your orgasm, maintaining the same pace he brought you to your climax at. within seconds, he slows to a halt, and hobie's cock is pulsating and spilling stringy ropes of his cum, painting your inner walls completely white.

"that tongue piercing is absolutely beastly, doll."

[xlatiwritesx]

hi there hope you're having a great day! it's my first time requesting in general and was wondering if i can request lando norris imagine? after both him and the reader decided to hard launch on social media, he brought her to the race for the 1st time and fans absolutely adore her in general. hope this makes sense thank you sm! (reader is a very private person in general)

Mine, Not Theirs | LN4

A/N: sorry if it took me long, but thank you for this request, Anon! This is so cute 😞❤️‍🩹. I hope you like it!!

Genera: Fluff

Words: 1.9K

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

…

"OH MY GODDDDD"

"So she is the one"

"Now we know the reason behind all the smiles during this season's races"

You smiled at all the comments left under Lando's post. You were sat on your hotel room’s bed, hugging your knees and smiling like an idiot at your phone for the past hour.

"Had I known you'd be smiling like this, I would've hard launched us sooner" you heard him speak, but your eyes kept staring at your picture that he posted. The picture that sent the internet into a spiral.

It was simple, you kissing Lando where you assumed his lips would be under his helmet, holding the sides of it. It was all loud and clear. Your smile on your exposed face, his name and number on the helmet. His McLaren suit. It was all out for the world to see, and it made your heart twist in the happiest ways.

"Hey, so" Lando walked closer to you, resting down on the edge of the bed and finally having your attention.

"Now that the whole world knows, I want you to come to races with me, starting with tomorrow’s" he confessed. Your smile slowly faded and you looked away from him.

He knew proposing such a thing when you've just publicized your relationship wouldn't be easy for you. You weren't the most outgoing or the best at dealing with all the press and fame that came from being with someone like Lando.

You looked back at him and saw him already losing hope. You had to try. He deserved at least that. He's been nothing but respectful and supportive of your wishes to keep your relationship private, but now things changed. You wanted to try for him just like he did for you.

"Okay" you said simply, not tearing your eyes from him to watch his reaction. He looked at you blankly.

"Wait, really?" A smile broke on his face. You nodded.

"Like 'hey guys this is the love of my life joining me for today's race' okay?" He asked again, carefully. You laughed and nodded again to reassure him.

"Yes!" He punched the air and you stood up, still laughing.

"Finally" he spread his arms, looking up at the ceiling.

After enjoying Lando's little celebration, you ran to your suitcase. You had to find something to wear. This was the first time anyone would see you. Not to mention the entire world.

A dress? Pants and a shirt? Classy? Casual?

You sat in the pile of your clothes, finding something suitable. Your eyes landed on a white top. Denim mini skirt. You narrowed your eyes. Smiled.

"These two with Lando’s McLaren bumper jacket" you announced to no one but yourself.

The next day, you started getting ready for the race. You curled your hair, did your light make up to perfection, and put on the outfit you picked out the night before.

You got in the car with Lando who was fully aware of your nerves ever since you woke up. He held your hand and that was enough to boost your confidence.

When you reached the circuit, your heart began beating at a dangerous speed. Lando's hand tightened around yours and he looked at you before getting out of the car. You could already see the many reporters there to document everyone's arrival. Your breath got heavier.

"Hey. Eyes on me, okay?" Lando whispered softly. You looked into his eyes and relaxed a little.

"No matter what anyone writes on those stupid platforms, you're mine, not theirs, okay? I'm proud you're the one I'm brining to today's race" he reassured you, hoping it would make you feel even more relaxed. He knew what it was like to be under the spotlight and having his every move scrutinized. It can get hard at times.

You smiled and looked down. He kissed your cheek before opening the car door, the commotion outside no longer muffled.

"Let's go" he ushered and you followed. Still holding his hand.

Even though it was very much light out, the camera flashes were still blinding. You kept your head down because it would've been overwhelming to look straight ahead. You held on to Lando's hand as he lead you to the paddock.

Once inside, you finally look up at the many faces there. Drivers, their families, managers, friends, girlfriends.

Some smiled. Some scrutinized. One Aussie accent cheered.

"Hey!" He greeted excitedly, opening his arms wide to give you a hug. You quickly let go of Lando's hand and hug Oscar.

"It's finally good to see you here" he said excitedly when you pull away. You smiled at him, eternally grateful for making you feel so welcome.

"Thanks, Oscar" you replied shyly. You could feel Lando beaming next to you.

"He goes crazy when you're not around. All he talks about is you. Hopefully he won’t be so annoying today since you’re here" he lowers his voice, playfully punching his teammates arm next to you. You laugh.

Oscar starts talking to Lando about the track and what to be expected. Lando wraps an arm around your waist and you listen to them talk.

It's a miracle that you were actually into the races and Formula 1 in general. You wouldn't have lasted too long with Lando if you weren't. It was his career after all, so naturally it was what he talked about most.

“Okay. We gotta get to the cars now. Shit’s about to get serious” Oscar clapped. Lando nodded and looked at you.

“You’ll be good here? Or you want to watch the race in the garage?” He asked you gently. You looked around at the drivers leaving, all their friends and family choosing to stay at the paddock. You turned to him and smiled.

“I’ll be fine around here. Maybe get to know some new people” you told him and he nodded letting go of your hand to hold your face and kiss you cheek.

You blushed as he walked away, turning to wave at you one last time.

“Take care, Lan!” You yelled and he turned to face you, walking backwards for a few steps.

“Anything for you, my love!” He shouted back, causing people to look. Your heart raced, but your eyes were only on him as he turned back around to continue walking next to Oscar.

You sigh, hoping people would actually be nice. Walking around the paddock, you feel someone tap your shoulder. You turn quickly, faced with a girl a little too pretty.

“First time around here?” She asks. You smile and nod.

“Great! I get to show you around!” She says excitedly, pulling your arm and walking inside.

You’re welcomed by about 5 more faces around a table. People your age. Girls. You felt overwhelmed by their stares, but you promised to give this whole thing a chance.

“We’ve got a McLaren girlfriend everyone!” She announces and everyone starts cheering. You laugh at how silly it seemed, yet so sweet.

“I’m Lily by the way, your co-McLaren-girlfriend” she finally introduces herself. Your smile widens, feeling a sense of belonging somehow.

Lily guides you to the table with five chairs already occupied, you and her filling the sixth and seventh spots. Everyone seemed to be your age. Maybe one or two years younger or older.

“First race nerves?” Another girl asked, taking a sip from her glass. You nodded, still smiling.

“We were all there. It all seems intimidating at first, the cameras, the questions, the race itself!” Another one continued. You frowned a little, nodding along.

You realized you hadn’t said a single word. You really weren’t the best at small talk, but you owed it to them to at least say a yes or no.

“I’m Y/N, by the way” you said finally and they all smiled, acknowledging that new piece of information.

“You should he added to our group chat. We find each other every race day, catch up and have some free food, you know” Lily nudged you and you laughed a little. You hand her your phone, allowing her to do whatever.

When she hands it back to you, you see that you’ve been added to a group chat titled “the gas station ⚡️”. You frown in confusion and look up at them.

“The gas station?” You raise a brow and some of them laugh.

“We give them fuel, now don’t we girls?” One of them raised her brow and you just covered your face and laughed. A little too hard.

“We’ve got the same sense of humor. We’ll go a long way” a girl on your right patted your back as you collected yourself.

“Ugh” you sigh, finally able to hold in your laughter.

When the race starts, you come completely undone. Screaming with everyone and hugging anyone around when necessary. Lando finishes with P-3 and you couldn’t wait to celebrate that with him at the podium.

“You get to celebrate on the podium!” Some of the girls scream and it was just then that you realize how amazing this whole experience has been.

These girls have never met you in their lives, your boyfriend just won against all their boyfriends and they had every reason to be full of themselves, but they were nothing but sweet and lovely to you, making you feel so welcome and for the first time ever since you started dating Lando, you find someone who’d be as excited for him as you. Because they know what’s it like to watch the love of your life win at something he’s passionate about.

“Go go go!” They push you out so you could get to the podium for celebration.

You all get to the track to celebrate with your significant others. You spot a pretty face and curly hair in the crowd. For once, you really don’t care that everyone’s watching. That this could be on live television. You just run, jumping in his arms. He holds you tightly, spinning you around as his sweet laughter fills your ears, muting any other possible sound around you.

When Lando finally puts you down, you basically scream in his face.

“P-3, Lan! That was amazing!” He laughs at your reaction and you laugh with him.

“I knew you were here. I couldn’t let you down” he says and you hug him tightly. He hugs you back.

“You’re my everything. I do this for you” he says, only loud enough for you to hear. You close your eyes, praying your heart won’t explode from pure happiness and content.

Had you just known how amazing everyone would be, you would’ve come sooner. Had you known how much it meant to Lando, you would’ve come even sooner.

You pull away and kiss him, making up for all the time you spent feeling nervous. For not shouting about this from the rooftops. For staying behind on all the fun and welcoming, lovely souls you you met today.

“It seems that today’s race gets a fairytale ending for Lando Norris and his girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N”

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Open Mic Night

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  Soldier Boy and the reader go to a bar on a double date with Hughie and Annie. This takes place beyond season three in alternate universe. Reader is a supe. This technically takes place in my series "Take A Chance On Me," after Soldier Boy and the reader have become a couple, but can be read as stand alone. (I'm so bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Fluff, Age Difference, Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Established Relationship

Word Count: 3.9K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ just to be sure because this fic contains dude being super creepy and sleazy, swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, references to past sex, and Soldier Boy. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. This is my first time writing for Soldier Boy, so please be gentle. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Masterlist

Take A Chance On Me Series Masterlist

*********************************************************

Music swung low and heavy over the crowded bar from the band on the stage that dominated the central wall of the building. Speakers stood like stoic watchmen, thumping and blasting the haunting music on each side of the stage. Spotlights stung the air, spewing colors of orange, yellow, and green onto the figures that writhed on stage.

It was open mic night. That much was inferred from the collection of mismatched people swarming the edge of the stage where a bouncer stood holding a black clip board.

Each one pushed and shoved, trying to shout over the death march ballad flowing from the lead singers mouth and threatening one another with musical instruments clutched in their hands.

The song is an odd choice. You thought to yourself noting the outfit of the lead singer. He was wearing a bright red and yellow pinstriped suit that clashed with bright pink hair that fell past his waist and was braided away from his face.

How does it not get caught in his guitar?

You were still standing just inside the doorway, staring beyond Hughie to watch the lead singer gyrate and writhe against the standing microphone.

You glance over at Ben. He’s hovering by your right elbow, mouth turned down in disgust, but even frowning he looks just as handsome as ever. His dark hair lies in soft waves over his brow, he trimmed his beard so that it’s more of a dusting over his cheeks and chin, he’s wearing a black t-shirt that makes his eyes a dangerous bright green and a pair of jeans slung low on his hips. Even without his suit he looks flawless, every bit the hero that people believed him to be.

“I don’t understand music nowadays.” Ben continues to stare at the lead singer. "It used to make sense."

“Isn’t he talented?” You laugh elbowing Ben in the side. “Aren’t you glad we let Annie pick the place?”

“I definitely am.” Hughie responds. “I think my life has been enriched by watching that man hump the microphone.”

“Oh definitely.” Annie adds.

“Do you think he’d sign my butt?” You ask enthusiastically. “I carry a sharpie with me at all times just for this possibility.”

“Y/n-“ Annie snorts.

“What?” Ben snaps, turning to look down at you. His eyes are narrowed in jealousy and confusion.

“I’m only kidding Gramps.” Your hand entwines with his. “You’re the only one who gets to see it.”

He doesn’t look pleased, but the nickname you assigned him when you first met often makes him angry.

"Don't fucking call me that." Ben mutters.

“You know you love it.” You whisper back.

“Ew. So don’t need that image-“ Hughie makes a face.

“I don’t need to hear it from you. When we all lived in that safe house and you and Annie had ‘alone time’ I wanted to wash my ears out with soap. Y’all could at least have gone to a room on the other side of the apartment, not to mention Annie took out the power every time.”

“You have super hearing Y/n.” Annie’s face flushes. “And you and Ben weren't exactly quiet either.”

"I won't apologize for that." You shrug.

Someone comes in the double doors behind you and jostles past you. You stumble into Ben’s chest, who steadies you with a hand on your waist. The man doesn't turn around to apologize, instead he continues to walk towards the giant wooden bar on the left side of the room.

You ignore the urge to haul him back by the back of the shirt and make him apologize and one look up at Ben lets you know that he's thinking the exact same thing.

Ben watches the man’s retreating figure murderously and opens his mouth, but before he yells something, you squeeze his hand. Ben's gaze drops to you, anger burning behind his green eyes.

“It’s okay. It’s busy and there’s a lot of people. It happens.” You whisper trying to bring him some comfort.

He wasn’t exactly thrilled about the double date. It wasn’t that he hated Hughie or Annie, you think it was because after a long day he’d rather spend time with you than keep up appearances. When Annie suggested it, it had seemed like a good idea but now standing here in the overcrowded bar it was overwhelming. Ben and you had been on dates just the two of you in a bar before, but it wasn’t nearly as loud or as crowded as this one. You spent the night in one of the quiet booths in the corner, his arm wrapped around you while you listened to the music coming from the juke box, music that Ben actually recognized. Sometimes you think he liked quiet restaurants more, where he could breathe, and relax in a booth next to you. You think being around too many people activated his PTSD.

Ben frowns, but tightens his hand on your hip.

Sometimes you thought that you being there helped. As much as Ben didn't like to admit his feelings, you noticed that his actions spoke more. The way that he let you hold on to his arm or the way that his hand often drifted to your waist when in public made you believe that Ben did depend on having you with him. Plus he never seemed to want to let you go out of the apartment alone. Even with something as mundane as grocery shopping, Ben would come with you. And despite him sighing each time you walked down an aisle and complaining under his breath, Ben wouldn't stay at the apartment when you told him to.

Plus there were the mornings when you woke up before him and noticed how he pulled you to him in his sleep or the mornings when he woke up first and didn’t push you away, instead he liked having your head on his chest watching your gentle breath.

However, the look in his eyes as he gazed around the room at the crowd was not calm or collected, it was bordering on manic. He looked almost like he wanted to pick you up and move you to the corner, caging you in and fighting off anybody who tried to get close to you.

“Hey we are going to go get drinks. Why don’t you guys find us a place to sit?” You say to Annie.

Maybe I need to talk to him alone.

“Sure.” She doesn’t sense Ben’s discomfort and pulls Hughie in the direction of an empty booth that lines the wall opposite the bar.

You gently lead Ben through the crowds, past the bar to a small alcove where the restrooms are.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“Yeah?" Ben raises his eyebrow and you can imagine his thoughts.

Probably revolving around the idea that he's not a pussy and that he's not afraid of anything.

Sometimes you hated that Ben was so guarded and that his usual emotions circled around borderline toxic masculinity, annoyance, and anger. Well, until you started dating. At the beginning Ben had been nicer to you than anyone else, which meant those three emotions appeared less when you were around. But now, you were slowly coaxing him out of his tough exterior to get him to open up more, difficult, but not impossible.

You knew it was only a matter of time until he opened up more to you. In the few months you had been dating he was already doing better than when you first met- when there was a constant parade of women through the apartment and he tried his upmost to get in your pants. 

“Because if you’re not we can leave right now. I can tell Annie that I’m having bad cramps or something and we can go home. Get a pizza delivered or something? Watch one of your old films?” You look into his face, trying to read his expression, but Ben has mastered the art of hiding his emotions. An infuriating skill, because you prided yourself on being able to read people.

“I’m fine.”

“Ben-“

“I promise I’m fucking fine.” He snaps.  His broad figure blocks the view of the singer on stage who has begun to gyrate again.

You hoped the song would be over soon. 

Despite his tone, it didn't make you angry. You knew that he tended to slip into annoyance when he was afraid to tell you what he really thought.

He doesn’t look fine. His eyebrows are pulled down low over his eyes and his mouth is turned down in a frown.

“I’m serious. I won’t be mad if you just want to go home, just the two of us. Being out is supposed to be fun and if you’re not having fun-“

“I swear I’m having as much fucking fun as I can listening to terrible music.” He doesn’t smile.

You release his hand and your fingertips raise to brush back some of his dark locks that have fallen into his eyes. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I love you-“

 He sighs leaning into your touch.

“I know you think that you have to do this for me, but I’m okay with just going. I know you don’t like crowds or people.” You smile at him, putting as much love and comfort as you can into your tone.

“I’m okay y/n.”

You search his gaze for the lie, trying to uncover how he feels, but you find nothing. “Okay.”

You arch upwards to kiss him hoping that it will relieve some of the tension he was holding in his muscular shoulders.

To say it works is an understatement. As soon as your lips touch his, he backs you against the wall and continues to kiss you feverishly, his hand finding your waist.

I guess that’s one way to channel all that nervous energy.

Ben’s hand begins to sweep lower along your back to grab your butt and bring your leg up over his hip, holding you up against him so you don't have to stretch as far to kiss him. It makes you smile into his mouth, knowing that he was doing that for you, that he cared enough to make sure you were comfortable.

“Ben-“ You breathe.

“What?” He smirks at you. “Didn’t you want me to have a good time?”

“Well yes but-“

“You aren’t having a good time?”

“Ben-"

“No? I think I can make you have a good time, a few times before Hughie and Annie notice we're gone.” He begins to nudge you backward in the direction of the bathroom.

“No.” You giggle pushing against his muscular chest, but he doesn’t move.

“Come on doll. Don’t you want me to enjoy myself?” Ben pouts, before bringing his lips down to your ear. "I definitely think you'd enjoy yourself." A shiver travels down your spine. "That's my girl." He smirks, as he begins to kiss your neck again.

“Ben, I do want you to enjoy yourself, but I also don't want to have a good time in the bathroom at a bar.”

“Didn’t stop us last time.” He arches a brow.

“That was much cleaner and we weren’t at a bar with two of our friends.”

Ben frowns at you.

“How about you get me a little drunk, we dance for a bit, and then you get to take me home.” You press a kiss just under his ear, tangling your hands in his hair.

“Or we go into the bathroom for 10 minutes then you get me drunk enough to dance and then you get to take me home.” His hand tightens just under your thigh, rubbing his thumb against your soft jeans.

“Ben.”

“You know you want to.” He grins wolfishly. “Have I told you how sexy you look?”

He didn’t have to say it. You were wearing a green top that showed a little more cleavage than usual and your best pair of jeans that hugged your curves. The same pair of jeans that usually made Ben handsy. You had also spent an inordinate amount of time curling your hair before you left the apartment. Plus the green was exactly the same color as his suit, something that Ben loved was when you wore his color or his clothes.

“You have, several times. And I do, but please I don’t want to when our friends are out there waiting for us.”

He sighs, knowing that he’s lost. “Fine.”

Ben reluctantly lowers your legs to the ground, but you kiss him gently on the mouth to kiss away the frown that replaces the seductive smirk he had moments ago.

“Go on. I’m going to go to the bathroom.” He steps around you.

“What?”

“I have to take a piss. Go on get the drinks. I’m gonna need a lot of them to get through that fucking music.”

“Beer?”

“Beer and a whiskey.” Ben winks as he closes the door behind him.

You take in a deep breath to cool down from whatever almost happened, but you saw your ability to say no as a personal victory. Ben was usually able to coax you into doing whatever he wanted.

You hate how easily he won.

You begin the slow trek back to the bar, weaving in and out of the people trying to get closer to the stage or just dancing along to the music. The previous band was gone, replaced by a man wearing a fedora and playing a saxophone. The melody was smooth, and reminded you of what you father used to listen to on long days after work.

Ben would like this song. You think to yourself. You suddenly wished that he was here so he could hold you and sway along to the music, but you knew that getting drinks was equally important.

It would probably take at least two glasses of whiskey to get him out on the dance floor.

You maneuver yourself between two people sitting on stools to talk directly to the bartender. “Hey can I get four bottles of beer and a whiskey.”

“What kind?” The bartender is a blonde girl, pretty, only a few years older than you, dressed in an electric green top and mini skirt.

“Do you have anything that’s really old?” You never got what kind of whiskey Ben liked, just that he often complained that the older stuff was better.

It was a common opinion he voiced.

“Yeah but it’s pricy.” She shrugs

“That’s fine.” You pull Ben’s debit card out of your pocket.

You thought it was weird to use his card, but he kept telling you to even though you didn’t have a shared bank account. One time you tried to pay him back, but he wouldn’t let you and said that it was the man's job to pay for everything.

Another time you tried to pay for dinner and he told you not to worry. But you still felt guilty.

Sometimes you felt like a sugar baby. Given the age difference, it was closer to reality than you would have liked.

You were living together, well, Ben lived in your apartment. He kept talking about moving to a nicer apartment and as much as you wanted to, one day you found him looking at apartments that were worth more than seven times the monthly rent that you were paying currently.

You were going to see one in a few days, but you still hadn’t admitted to him that you didn’t think you could afford it. The only thing that stopped you was how excited he got about going, about moving in officially together in a new apartment that you didn't want to say no. Seeing him excited about something so domestic warmed your heart.

You didn’t know how much money he had, you just knew it was more than you given the fact that he was such a big hero and that he used to be in movies.

You hadn’t had a solid job since you started working for Butcher, who would give you some money under the table but who knows where he got that. You had some money that you inherited from your parents when they died, but other than that, nothing. An unwelcome thought, given the indestructible nature of your powers, which meant there was the possibility you would live forever.

I’m gonna have to start budgeting better.

The bartender turns to look for the drinks, while you lean forward on the bar, closing your eyes to listen to the smooth jazz that floats over the crowd.

Someone’s hand slides down your back and grips your butt.

You snort, not opening your eyes. “Ben I thought I told you-“ You turn around to look at who you thought was Ben, but freeze when you realize it’s the pink haired singer from before.

“Hey baby.” The man smiles tightening his grip on your butt. “I saw you admiring me, thought I’d come say hello.”

“Um. Yeah. That didn’t happen, now can you please take your hand off my ass?” You ask forcing your voice into a cool collected tone.

“I think it did.” He doesn’t remove it, in fact he moves further into you, to pin you against the bar. “Did you like my song?”

“No.”

One word answers usually were a good way of telling people that you weren’t interested, but this man didn't seem to understand that.

“Aww that’s too bad. I’ve got a few others that I can show you. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here all alone?”

“We’ll see that’s the thing. I’m not alone and I’m going to ask you nicely one more time to fuck off before I break your arm.”

“A little thing like you do that? Come on baby let’s be serious.”

By now every time he said little your eye twitched aggressively. You did a good job of pretending you weren't a supe on your days off. You hid really well in a crowd, a skill that helped you evade Homelander and Vought more than once. Of course it had its annoyances as well. Case and point.

“Trust me. Me breaking your arm is much better than the alternative.”

I should get rid of him before Ben gets out here. That will definitely not end well if he sees this guy.

“What’s the alternative?” He oozes moving so close to your face that you can smell the stale alcohol on his breath.

“Well-“

The man is snapped upwards away from you and into the air.

Ben looks murderous. His usually bright green eyes have hardened into an emerald, his smile turned into a snarl. He’s holding the man by the front of his brightly striped suit, two feet off the ground, so close that Ben’s nose is almost brushing his.

“The alternative-“ Ben’s voice is a growl. “Is that I break your fucking face for touching my girlfriend.”

Why does he look so hot when he’s angry? You sigh to yourself, admiring the way his muscles tense under his black t-shirt as he holds the guy and how the shirt pulls up just enough for you to see the top of his hip where his low hanging blue jeans have fallen.

There’s something wrong with me.

“Whoa man I’m sorry I didn’t know she was yours.” The man stutters, holding on to Ben’s wrists where he still holds him in the air.

Ben is easily a foot taller than him and broader by a mile. Gazing down at him with enough hatred to make the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

As much as you liked Ben like this, you knew you had to do something before Ben killed him. Because as much as he deserved a good beating, the man didn’t deserve to die.

“Ben put him down.” You say.

“No.”

“Ben please.” You put your hand on his muscular shoulder, feeling the heat of his skin beneath the palm of your hand. “It’s not worth it. He’s not worth it.”

“But you are-“ His teeth are gritted together when he looks at you, green eyes blazing in fury. “He shouldn’t have touched you.”

“No he shouldn’t. But he doesn’t deserve to lose his life just because he felt up the wrong person in a bar.”

Ben’s jaw is locked together, nostrils flaring, but even you know that somewhere deep down he knows you're right. He turns his head to look back at the man. “You’re lucky that she’s more forgiving than I am.” Ben drops the man, who lands in a lump on the floor and turns to look at you.

Ben doesn’t look happy, but he still  takes your hand, preparing to shuffle you towards where Annie and Hughie are watching in horror.

But before Ben can say anything the man on the ground rolls to his feet, more gracefully than you would have guessed and lunges at Ben a small knife gripped in his left hand.

He really doesn’t know when to quit.

Although you know that a small knife will do little to Ben other than piss him off, you react. Before he can reach Ben, your free hand flashes out, fastening around the man's left wrist and you pull his arm behind him at an unnatural angle. His arm jolts, the sharp snap of bone overshadows the jazz music, and the man falls to the ground clutching his ruined arm to his chest with a broken cry. All of this happens within five seconds, too fast for a normal person to see.

“Told you I would break your arm.” You say, pulling Ben away before he can do anything worse to him.

“What happened?” Annie asks eyes wide.

“Total jerk at the bar. I ordered drinks but I think it’ll be better if Ben and I leave.” You glance over at the bartender who is talking to the bouncer and gesturing over at you and Ben. “I already paid so y’all enjoy yourselves.”

“Wait y/n we’ll come with you-“ Hughie says. His arm is draped around Annie’s shoulders where they sit in the booth. You think about letting them come with you, but they look so comfortable and they should enjoy their day off.

“No it’s okay.” You squeeze Ben’s hand. “I’m kinda wiped from today anyway.”

“Are you sure?” Annie asks.

“Yeah.” You nod once, before smiling wide at Annie and Hughie. “Let me know if you find the next Billy Joel.”

“There can only be one!” Hughie shouts as Ben and you weave through the bar goers to avoid the bouncer.

When you finally get outside and start towards home, Ben finally speaks.

“We didn’t have to leave.” He’s still holding your hand tightly, but you can feel the heat of his anger stirring beneath the skin.

“Yes we did. The bouncer was coming.” You stop walking and turn to look up at him. “Plus. I thought it was incredibly hot that you went all Soldier Boy on that guy’s ass to defend my honor.” Your hand drags against his muscular chest, mouth turning up in a sexy smile.

“Oh did you? Because here I thought that you were angry. And that you were going to yell at me for not letting you handle it.” He tugs you forward so that your chests are pressed against one another.

“Nope. Why do you think we had to leave? I want to get you home asap.”

He runs his free hand through your hair, fastening it behind your head, to pull you against him for a searing kiss. “You know, I also thought it was pretty hot when you broke that guy's arm.” Ben whispers against your lips.

“Wouldn’t have expected anything less. Now let’s go home so I can thank you properly.”

****************************************

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for the Take A Chance On Me Series, please let me know :)

If you liked this fic, be sure to try out my other series You Call It Madness But I Call It Love!

[xoxochb]

— psycho killer ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

warnings: chb setting, graphic violence, insane behavior, seduction-ish, two make outs pairing: ghostface! luke castellan x ghostface! daughter of aphrodite a/n: after ages I’ve finally finished this 😭🙏🏼

a ghost mask, a hunting knife, two beloved campers.

typically at camp when you heard anything about the hermes cabin counselor or the favorite daughter of aphrodite the mind would go to the perfect couple— and as this was indeed true, it wasn’t how they expected. one hundred percent not. It was almost obvious, the murders at camp. It wasn’t like you were trying to fully hide them, of course not. all the assholes you killed deserved to get their bodies shown on full display, to show off your handiwork. It was almost surprising how nobody knew the mastermind behind these perfect kills

the campers chosen for your bloodlust rage weren’t randomly selected this is why. each belonged to a certain point in your life, to a certain experience. such as an ares kid who threw you to the ground during a sparring session, or one of your siblings who made fun of your looks (in your defense an awful hair day, but who the fuck where they to be talking their outfit was three seasons out!), or a stupid athena kid thinking their the smartest in camp all “I know rocket science I’m better than everyone” bullshit. they might’ve got the worst of it. but there was more than just those three— you’d claimed the title ‘serial killer’ at this point. your killings didn’t go unnoticed though because luke castellan saw through your innocent act. how you’d be the first to every scene, how you’d dramatize every action trying to help mourn over the loss of many different campers who lost their lives to your hands. and he was surely not going to let you do this alone

tonight you had a conquered a perfect scheme with your partner in crime. thoroughly planned over the course of september, halloween night, campers busy with activities and your victim busy getting totally gutted!

“are you sure this plan is going to work?”

“are you serious?” you cross your arms and glare at your boyfriend “I’ve been working on this for a month and a half if this doesn’t work that’d be unlikely. and don’t you trust me?”

luke laughs softly and takes a step towards you, placing one hand around the small of your back, the other gloved hand cupping your jaw before you’re pulled in for a feverish kiss. and when he pulls away with a smirk against your lips he mumbles, “with my life”

you slip your knife from atop your bed into your hands. “then let’s do this”

⋆˚✿˖°

It was dark outside. a stygian hue filling the sky along with the small bright stars and the dull brightness illuminating from the moon above. not only was it dark it was fucking cold. though it was mid fall so you shouldn’t have expected anything less. In your lacy pink dress, you barely had anything on which wasn’t helping your cause either. with every step leaves crunch beneath you, left, right, left, right. until you at last reach your designated spot where your victim waits, paper in hand, twirling it around his fingers. you come up as quietly as possible behind him (or the tree behind him, whatever)

act i: currently in session

you put on your best I’m-so-happy-to-see you smile when you get close enough. “hey you”

the hepheastus boy turns himself with a seductive looking smirk. yeah you know exactly how this is going to go. you’d heard a rumor spreading through camp about this boy, apparently he’s a player, paying girls to have sex with him (which apparently isn’t a big deal but it might once stds start spreading, gross). regardless of this one reason you hated the boy anyways so it didn’t matter to you

his gods awful expression make you want to vomit on the spot, nonetheless you power through. “I was hoping it would be you. I always knew that stupid boyfriend of yours was a dud”

you roll your eyes and scoff. “ugh, I know right, he’s so pathetic”

you take the paper from his hands: a note written by your sister to meet her here. you throw it somewhere on the ground and fumble your fingers with the collar of the boys shirt, while his dirty hands wrap tightly around your hips

“are you gonna kiss me or what?” you mumble when your lips are close enough. but it’s almost as if the boy is aware there’s more to this meet up. doesn’t matter because once he hungrily connects your lips at last he won’t remember a thing

act ii: in the process

It was utterly disgusting— the way you let his hideous boy touch you, his hands gripping tightly over your dress in hopes it may disappear at any given moment. could this process take any longer? you began to wonder if your boyfriend had left you yo handle this on your own. yet at the same time you knew he wouldn’t let this idiot boy get away with putting his hands on you

you take matters into your own hands for the time being. while the hepheastus boy sucks along your neck you reach to your thigh where you had strapped your dagger. and almost as if on queue luke appears from within the bunches of trees. or so you hope— you don’t know for sure who it is until the ghost mask comes off. slowly but surely, through your sighs you manage to get the metal to the fabric of his shirt. luke gives you a nod indicating to make your move, quickly you shove the weapon into the boys abdomen, crimson liquid instantly pouring over your dress and the grass. the boy tightens one hand round your dress, the other touching the knife placed in his stomach. his head lifts from your shoulder to look up at you, the same blood pooling out from his mouth

and it’s heavenly, the sound he makes as he falls to the ground in agony, attempting to plea for you not to let him die, but of course you can’t hear over the liquid in his mouth all he can do is spit it out. you smirk and crouch down to his level admiring your recent work, then looking up to luke. “wanna do the honors?”

act ii: completed

he takes his mask off, shoving it into his robes pocket before taking your hidden ax from behind the tree. “what do we do once we’re done with him?”

“we burn him. once he’s all ash there’s no proof he was murdered”

you stand up from your spot on the ground, looking at the amount of blood that had fallen onto your dress. you frown but ultimately chose to ignore it, that was a problem for later. for now, the last task of the night was to properly dismember the body and take it back to hermes cabin for burning. you feel a sudden ecstasy as his limbs disconnect, one by one, legs, arms, torso, head, feet, hands, until he was nothing but bits and pieces. even better, it was none other than your lovely boyfriend that had completed this process, instantly making your knees weak— even better than this, however, was his blood adorned face, how badly you wanted to kiss all of it off slowly…

and you can. when he throws the ax on the ground and walks towards you, his hands resting against your hips as he pushes you back against the tree. you moan in utter delight when luke finally attaches his lips with yours (this elicits a laugh from him). your whole body practically curves into his, you throw your arms around his neck tightly to keep him as close as humanly possible. his hands find themselves trailing down to your thighs and back up underneath your dress. the heat of the moment is palpable (though this probably isn’t an exaggeration as his fingers twirl around your underwear, taking his time as he slide them off), in a needy manner you tug his hair gently, and if it weren’t for his hands on you, your knees surely would’ve gave out and you might’ve collapsed by now. his tongue traces over your bottom lip, you can taste the blood, and you need more of it, whether that was his touch or the taste of the crimson liquid you’ve grown to love

“you’re perfect” he rasps against your lips, before disconnecting them and trailing down your neck “gorgeous”

he reaches your pulse point and keeps his lips there longer, for sure making a mark for you to struggle to cover up later. he bites down carefully on your skin, making you moan in response, in addition to this he grinds his hips into yours, evoking more soft sounds from your mouth. you stop him for only a moment to murmur, “y’know, there’s nobody in my cabin…”

and that was enough confirmation for the both of you to discard of the dismembered body for someone to find the next morning, and to settle (or not so much) in cabin ten for the night

꣑ৎ if you enjoyed then reblogs would be greatly appreciated! my requests are currently: open if you have any <3

[sl-ut]

you should probably leave

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

description: joel is enamoured by his new neighbour, but old patterns will always be his downfall.

warnings: UNEDITED, slight age gap, slight smut, implied unprotected piv, protected piv, swearing, alcohol consumption, insecurity, angst, reader is given a birthday (she's a sag like me)

words: 10.8K (my longest fic to date)

date posted: 14/03/23

part two

(inspired by you should probably leave by chris stapleton)

OCTOBER 12, 1998

The weather was something that she was unsure if she could ever get used to. For her entire life, she had spent the entirety of the late autumn months dreading the first snowfall of the season before lugging out her extensive collection of knitted sweaters and fur-lined boots. Instead, her little archive of winter clothing was left in a cardboard box in her childhood bedroom, along with the majority of her other belongings that she had not brought with her on her grand adventure–if you could even call it that. 

The University of Texas at Austin had not been her first choice of school, or her second, or third; she actually had never even imagined going to school any further than a few hours from her hometown in Pennsylvania, and yet there she was, standing in front of her brand-new home, sweltering under the harsh Texan sun as she struggled to unload her packed car all on her own. Well, to call it her home would be a pretty tight stretch, as well as to label it as “brand-new.” 

The small bungalow-style house had caught her eye on a flyer in the grocery store, a listing for one female roommate in a cul-de-sac not too far from the city. It wasn’t exactly her dream home by any means, with an ugly yellow exterior and a kitchen that could certainly use an updating, but it she had recently been forced out of her own apartment due to her previous roommate preferring her boyfriend to live their with her instead and it was the nicest of the few places within her price range that would also accommodate the mutt she’d rescued during her first year. All things considered, it was quite literally perfect for her situation–plus her new roommate seemed to have been at least more considerate of her boundaries than the last, which gave her some hope that things might actually work out. 

Y/n grunted at the weight of the box, cursing herself internally for enrolling in school and owning so many textbooks as she lugged it up the front steps, dropping it just inside the door. She couldn’t help but grimace as she glanced up, meeting the watchful gaze of Manny, his furry little head tilting curiously–likely wondering why she was making so much ruckus and interrupting his nap. 

“Lazy ass,” she muttered under her breath at him, kicking the box to the side before trudging back out the door.

The next few boxes were filled with clothes and shoes, fortunately for her spine. She hauled several out, dropping each of them to the pavement of the driveway carelessly as she wiped at her sweaty forehead, apparently too enthralled in the work to notice the beat up truck as it turned into the neighbouring driveway.

“Hey there,” she turned to find a young man, his hair combed back to expose his effortlessly charming face to her, “You need a hand?”

She glanced down at the boxes at her feet, “I wouldn’t wanna bother you.”

A young girl appeared at his side, wide eyes peering over at the older female curiously. The man shrugged, puffing out his broad chest as he moved. Y/n almost laughed at how obvious he was being, only seconds after meeting her. The man gave off the impression that he had always thought fairly highly of himself, probably the quarterback of the high school football team, maybe even involved in the armed forces–the navy, she was betting. He crossed the barrier between the two driveways in two long strides, extending his hand out to her as he came closer. 

“I’m Tommy,” he flashed her a grin, his accent coming out thicker than it probably would have normally. He glanced over his shoulder, motioning for the young girl to follow him into the neighbouring yard, “This is my niece Sarah.”

Y/n smiled politely, shaking his hand lightly, “Hi, I’m Y/n. I guess it’s nice to meet some of my new neighbours.”

“Well, Sarah, here, is your neighbour. Me, I live–”

“What happened to Stephanie?” Sarah interrupted, “I didn’t know she was moving.”

Y/n turned her attention to the young girl, “She isn’t, we’re just living together now.”

Sarah’s mouth formed an ‘o’, the gears visibly turning in her head as she formulated her next question, “Are you guys dating?”

“Sarah!” Tommy choked on his spit, “I’m sorry–”

“It’s okay,” Y/n chuckled at his response before turning back to the young girl, “No, we’re not. I guess she just didn’t wanna be living here all on her own anymore.”

Tommy’s shoulders relaxed, the mortified expression leaving his features in favour of one that she might have even considered relief. He shook his head at his niece, giving her a hard stare, “I’m sorry about her. I figured that she would have some better manners by now–my mistake.”

Sarah swatted at him, a pout appearing on her lips as her brows furrowed. The girl didn’t quite understand how the question may have been taken with offence by some, and was quite miffed by her uncle’s insult. 

“No, no, it’s okay,” Y/n affirmed, “I think it’s actually a good thing that she knows about that kinda stuff.”

Tommy glanced down at the boxes, clear discomfort appearing on his features, “Alrighty then, how about these boxes?”

Y/n gave in, offering Tommy one of the heavier of the three boxes, while shifting the smallest and lightest to the young girl, who had been adamant in helping out. She instructed them to just drop the boxes to the floor by the door, not looking to take up much more of their time. 

A loud gasp escaped Sarah, her wide eyes falling on the mutt, who had appeared to have been equally as excited to see her as he rushed over, tongue lolling out of his mouth and tail flapping wildly. Sarah squealed when he barrelled into her, a fit of giggles leaving her mouth as he brought her to the ground and began to cover her face in slobbery kisses.

“Manny!” Y/n groaned, grasping the dog’s collar and pulling away enough for Sarah to sit up off of the floor, “Sorry, he’s just convinced that everyone wants to be his friend.”

“I’ll be his friend!” Sarah beamed, reaching out and squishing the dog’s face in between her palms, “I mean… Can I?”

Y/n shrugged, “As long as it’s okay with your…” She glanced at Tommy for help, unsure about Sarah’s parentage situation. He’d already made it clear that he did not live next door, but had never explicitly stated who did.

“You’ll have to ask your dad, Sarah,” He chastised her, “Anyway, we should get out of your hair now, let you settle in.”

Y/n nodded, “Yeah, thank you for the help, though.”

“No problem, ma’am,” He winked, southern charm on full display as he stepped out onto the front step, “Anytime for a pretty girl like you. C’mon, Sar.”

Sarah begrudgingly offered the needy pup one more affectionate squeeze before following after her uncle, leaping off of the step and bounding across to her own front yard. Tommy paused, hand resting on the railing of the step and giving it a firm shake. His lips pursed into a line as he let out a small huh as the bannister shifted out of its place, then back in under the pressure. 

“Yeah, Steph said there were all kinds of little things wrong with the place,” Y/n noted, “But hey, if it’s got four walls and a roof, it’s good enough for me.”

He chuckled at her, shaking his head, “You know, my brother and I are contractors, we could come over and help you fix things up if you guys wanted.”

She hummed, “I’ll mention it to Steph. Wouldn’t wanna just start making changes to her house while she’s not here, would I?”

Tommy hummed, “‘Spose that’s true. Anyway, I should go see where she ran off to, but I sure hope I’ll be seeing you around.” He shot her a cheeky wink before jogging back over to the neighbouring yard, leaving her and Manny among the mess of boxes in the entryway. 

Y/n huffed, glancing around at the mess, then at the furry little beast at her feet, who waited patiently for her to begin offering him her love and attention. She rested her hands on her hips, shaking her head softly, “Well, let’s just get this done, boy.”

– – –

Joel grunted as he clambered in through the side door of his home, sighing in relief as he slipped out of his heavy work boots and dropped the armload of groceries onto the kitchen counter. He could hear the TV on in the living room, drowned out by Sarah’s yell of a greeting. He rushed to put away the groceries, sticking the brown paper bags in the recycling before stepping into the dimly lit sitting area. 

Tommy was reclined on the couch, slumped into the worn leather like a pile of mashed potatoes as he balanced his can of Budweiser on his bent knee. He nodded to his brother briefly as he lifted the beer to his lips, hardly taking his eyes off of the football game on the screen as Joel plopped down next to him. The older brother leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to Sarah’s head so as to not disturb her as she worked on her homework on the coffee table in front of the couch before finally copying his brother’s position.

“The hell took you so long? You left the site the same time I did, and I had to go pick this shithead up from school,” he playfully kicked at Sarah’s leg, “plus I helped your new neighbour move in.”

“Supermarket was a zoo,” Joel moaned as he ran his palm flat over his face, then furrowed his brow, “What new neighbour?”

Tommy nodded his head back in the direction of the mustard yellow house, “Chick next door got a new roommate.”

“Uncle Tommy was flirting with her,” Sarah chimed in, not taking her eyes off of the math textbook in front of her.

Joel rolled his eyes, “Now tell me why I’m not surprised.”

Tommy shook his head, taking another large gulp of beer, “I know what you’re thinking, but this girl’s different. She’s not from ‘round here. Not sure where, but she’s got an accent. Canada, maybe.”

“You know what a Canadian accent sounds like?” Joel scoffed, knowing that his brother was prone to drawing his own conclusions. 

“Well, no,” Tommy frowned, “But I imagine it might sound like that. Doesn’t matter, I think I’m gonna ask her out.”

Joel grunted in response, turning his eyes to the game on the screen.

“She wasn’t flirting back,” Sarah grinned up at the two men, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her father’s growing smirk and giggling as his own laughter came tumbling out. Tommy kicked her again, only this time with a little more force, “What? You invited yourself over there and were all,” She puffed her chest out and deepened her voice, “Anything for a pretty girl like you.”

Joel rested a palm on his belly as he shook with laughter, his other hand landing on the top of his daughter’s head affectionately as Tommy crossed his arms, sulking. 

“I think she was flirting back,” he argued.

“She wasn’t,” Sarah reaffirmed.

Tommy leaned forward, “Now how the hell would you know anything about flirting, huh? You been doin’ a lot of it at school?”

Her face burned in embarrassment, sputtering for a response, “No, that’s gross!”

Joel frowned at her, shaking his head in feign sternness, “You better not be. Otherwise I might need to break out grandpa’s old hunting rifle.”

She didn’t utter another word, simply gathering her things in her arms and rushing off to her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her as the laughter of her father and uncle followed her every step.

OCTOBER 17, 1998

Just under a week had passed since he’d first caught wind of his new neighbour, and Joel had yet to even see this woman. He’d noticed the new car in the driveway, and he’d picked up on the presence of the dog fairly quickly, especially after he’d caught Sarah tossing some of the vegetables from her dinner over the fence for him. Joel hadn’t paid it much mind, he was far too busy to be concerned with some young girl who didn’t seem to be causing much issues. 

He’d had words with Stephanie several times in the past; once for blatantly smoking pot on 

her front step when they were heading out for the day, then for leaving her garbage bin too close to his driveway, causing him to back into it and scratch the paint on his truck, and then once more when she’d had a little get together that ended up lasting until 4am, when the police arrived. He would normally have called himself a narc for having the party shut down, but it was keeping Sarah awake and the door had been shut in his face when he went over to ask politely. 

The day had been long, and normally he would have refused Tommy’s invitation to head over to one of the local dive bars, but after dealing with the shit-show that had gone on at the job site that day, he really needed a drink. Sarah was out of the house, anyway, having slept over at a friend’s house, so there was quite literally nothing keeping him away.

“Brother’s night, my ass,” Joel grumbled into his glass, glancing over to the corner booth, where his brother had joined a pretty brunette, leaving Joel to himself at the barside. He waved at the bartender, motioning for another top-up of his whiskey. 

A figure appeared at his side, leaning onto the bartop to call out to the bartender. Joel glanced over, his eyes raking over her radiant side profile in awe. He shot his gaze back to the glass of amber liquid in front of him, then briefly over to the girl once more. His eyes narrowed in on her pursed lips, noting how her brows furrowed in frustration as the bartender migrated to the other side of the bar. She turned to him suddenly, and Joel whipped his head back around to ensure that he wouldn’t appear to be some creep–though he was positive he certainly had been.

“Is it always like this here?” She asked him, tilting her head. “I swear, I’ve gone to three different spots along this bar, and buddy keeps looking in the other direction.”

He cleared his throat, “You not from around here?”

She smiled sheepishly, “Is it that obvious?”

Joel chuckled, “Just a little. You gotta get his attention, be firm. Here,” he tucked his index finger and thumb into his mouth and let out a loud whistle, nodding at the bartender as he rushed over. 

“Two vodka crans, please,” The girl smiled prettily at the bartender, then scoffed as he turned to begin pouring the drinks, “Shit, I guess I could stand to learn a thing or two.”

“It comes with time,” He frowned, realising that he may have implied that he was at the bar every other night, “I mean, not that I’m–”

She touched his arm softly, electricity running through her fingertips and into his bicep, “Hey, I’m not here to judge you if you’re not here to judge me, heh?”

He nodded, opening his mouth to speak once more when another figure appeared at her side. His smile dropped, taking in the sight of his next door neighbour, probably one of the last people he wanted to see on his night off.

“What the fuck is taking you so long–oh,” Stephanie narrowed her eyes at the older man, who simply turned and took another long swig of his whiskey, “Hello, Joel.”

“Stephanie,” he drawled, “How you doin’ tonight?”

She smirked at him maliciously, “Fine. Y/n, this is the guy I was telling you about.”

Oh, this is Y/n, he thought to himself, suddenly understanding Tommy’s instant interest in the girl. 

“All good things, I hope,” he sighed into his glass.

She shook her head, “Oh, just that you’re the neighbour from hell, and that you’re a narc.”

Y/n tucked her bottom lip in between her teeth, visibly uncomfortable at the confrontation. His eyes fell to her mouth at the movement, wondering what it might feel like to take that same lip in between his own teeth. 

“You keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night, Steph,” he huffed, praying to any god that would listen that she hadn’t completely turned Y/n against him.

Stephanie sneered at him, grasping one of the drinks from the bartop and stomping off, leaving a thick tension over the remaining two. Joel met Y/n’s gaze once again, noting the visible embarrassment on her face as she began to laugh slowly.

“Sorry about her,” She laughed nervously, “For the record, I know that she’s a little dramatic.”

“‘T’s fine,” Joel grumbled, swallowing the last gulp of whiskey, “You ain’t gotta apologise for her, she can feel however she wants about me.”

Y/n chuckled, a genuine one this time and Joel couldn’t help but carve the melodious sound into his memory, “I’m Y/n, by the way.”

He nodded, accepting the soft handshake that she offered, “So I’ve heard.” He noticed the slight furrow of her brow before he clarified, “I’m Sarah’s dad.”

Realisation crossed her face, “Oh, Sarah! She’s a real sweetheart.”

“Yeah, she is,” he smiled softly at the complement, “She sure likes you, and I’m assuming that it’s your pup that I’ve caught her feeding her broccoli to?”

Y/n giggled at him, “Huh, I’d noticed that he was especially gassy lately. Here I was thinking it was something in the water.”

Joel let out a loud laugh, then realised that he had not actually introduced himself, “Shit. Sorry, I just–” he coughed, “I’m Joel.”

“So I’ve heard.” She repeated to him, clearing her throat before turning to gaze at him through her lashes with a soft smile, “So Joel, is this seat taken?”

– – –

Y/n had not expected to have enjoyed herself quite so much when Stephanie forced her to go to the grubby little saloon, feeling incredibly out of place among all of the southerners. She had been hesitant to leave Manny on his own so soon after moving in, but the last thing that she had wanted to do was get on Stephanie’s bad side so early on. Then, she’d stumbled upon the devastatingly handsome man sitting all on his own at the bar, and her tune changed drastically. 

She sat on that stool for the better part of two hours after Stephanie had fucked off, leaving them to become acquainted with one another. Joel had offered her another drink, which she accepted under the terms that she would buy the next round, and against his better judgement, he found himself doing a shot of tequila with her as well. She smirked to herself when she took note of the flush that had crawled into his cheeks, and how cheerful his dark chocolate eyes looked under the dim lighting of the bar. 

Y/n had noticed Tommy in the corner booth, and how he had been blatantly pressing his southern charm onto the brunette under his arm in the very same way that he had to her, which made her feel much better knowing that he couldn’t possibly be that upset about her doing the exact same to his brother. 

Her hand had come to rest on his knee, leaning across to invade his personal space animatedly as she spoke, her own cheeks flushing each time that he grinned or laughed at her words, and she had lost count of the amount of times that she had rubbed her thighs together or considered smashing her lips to his. 

Tommy appeared at his side, clutching his shoulder in his firm grasp, “Hey Joel, you think you’re ready–oh, hey, Y/n.” His cheeks had turned red, one hand self-consciously rising to rub at his cheek, where the stark red lipstick stain had once acted as a trophy and was now an admission of guilt. Tommy pursed his lips, “Wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”

She shrugged, “Steph forced me out.”

He nodded awkwardly, unsure of how to save himself in this situation. 

Y/n turned her head, catching sight of her roommate’s drunken attempt to seduce the bouncer before turning her attention back to the older of the two brothers, squeezing his knee once before sliding off of the stool, “Speaking of, I should probably leave, she’s gonna get us banned from here any minute now. It’s been nice, talking to you, Joel. See you, Tommy.”

Both men watched as she disappeared into the crowd, eyes trailing after her figure longingly.

Tommy huffed, “You think I still got a chance?”

Joel’s shoulders shook in a drunken fit of giggles, lifting his own hand to proudly show off the nine digits that had been marked into his skin, “Nope.”

Tommy’s jaw dropped, clear disappointment on his features before it was quickly replaced by pride, “Well fuck, brother. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

OCTOBER 31, 1998

Y/n wiped at the sweat on her brow, breathing picking up in delight as she turned the corner and the blinding yellow house came into sight. The sun had already begun to set by the time that she and Manny had set out on their evening walk, now settling low on the horizon and casting a golden hue to the world below it as Manny tugged on his leash, obviously also desperate to escape the heat. 

A loud honk sounded from behind her, muffled slightly by the music playing over her bulky headphones, drawing her attention to the dark pickup truck as it sped past, Sarah hanging out the back window with a grin on her face as she waved dramatically. Y/n chuckled at the young girl, allowing Manny to lead her into a faster pace as they grew closer to their house.

She slid the headphones down to rest around her neck, pressing pause on her walkman as Sarah rushed towards them. The girl paid very little mind to the woman holding the leash, instead dropping to her knees and reaching out for the excited dog’s face, laughing as he began to lick enthusiastically at her cheek. 

“Hi,” her gaze rose to find Joel as he rounded the bed of the truck, hand resting on the top of the tailgate as he tried his best to look casual, “sorry, this one never shuts up about that dog.”

Y/n smiled at him, warmth flooding through her cheeks. She’d only actually spoken to Joel a handful of times since that night at the bar, mostly simple greetings while Sarah occupied herself with Manny. Joel was too awkward of a person to try anything with Sarah present, and Y/n was too compassionate to question him about why he hadn’t bothered to call yet in front of his daughter. 

Y/n shrugged, “To be fair, he never shuts up about her, either.”

“Oh did he tell you that?” The man asked, brows raised playfully, “I didn’t know you spoke dog.”

“There are many things you don’t know about me yet, Joel,” She smirked at him, “Oh, happy Halloween, by the way.”

“Right,” Joel raised one hand to stroke his hairy chin, “Yeah, you too.”

Sarah glanced up from Manny’s pleading brown eyes, “Dad forgot.

Joel sent a sharp glare to his daughter, then smiled sheepishly at her, “Not too concerned about a holiday that’s got nothing to do with me, anyway–this one decided she’s too cool for trick-or-treating with dad this year.”

“Oh don’t feel too discouraged, I gave my dad the boot when I was even younger.”

“See?” Sarah pressed, glancing back at her father, “You don’t even like Halloween, I don’t get why you’re mad.”

Y/n widened her eyes and clutched her chest dramatically, “What do you mean, you don’t like Halloween? It’s like, one of the best holidays!”

Joel rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t tell me you’re one of those people.”

She pursed her lips, “And just when I was starting to like you, Miller.”

His eyes met hers, curiosity pooling into the dark mocha irises as he considered her words. He almost appeared apologetic; could he feel guilty about not calling her? Y/n did her best to not appear too shaken by his lack of contact–she hadn’t expected anything from him the next day, but after two weeks and still no call? She’d taken that as a sign that he’d been a tad too drunk when he had been so shamelessly flirting with her, and that he had no intentions of ever pursuing anything. 

Y/n was thankful when Sarah interrupted the pair, preventing her from spiralling into a nervous breakdown from her own inner monologue, “What are you dressing up as?”

The woman shook her head with a mischievous smirk on her lips, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see when you come knocking at my door, huh?”

“No big plans?” Joel tilted his head, “I figured that roommate of yours would have you out on the town.”

She shrugged, “Steph’s out of town. Something about the drinks and the guys being stronger. Looks like it’s just gonna be me and my little guy here,” she gently clapped a hand against Manny’s side, “Well, us and a selection of horror movies.”

Sarah stood up, leaning into her dad’s side with her elbow, “How convenient, my dad will also be home alone tonight.”

Joel dropped his head in embarrassment–just leave it to Sarah to blatantly play the role of her father’s wingwoman. He refused to meet Y/n’s amused gaze, ears burning as Sarah continued.

“And he totally loves horror movies. He watches them all the time.”

“Oh really?” Y/n did her best not to burst out laughing, enjoying the sight of both Joel’s embarrassment and how confidently Sarah was trying to talk up her own father. She crossed her arms over her chest, doing her best to not make it too obvious how much she actually wanted to invite him to join her, but she didn’t want to display too much interest in him if he genuinely had none in her, “Well then maybe he should head to Blockbuster before all of the good ones are rented.” 

She raised her brow at him, signalling to him that it was his turn to make a move, as she would not be making any more. He nodded at her, red flooding his cheeks as he tried to muster up the courage to discuss the clear tension between them. 

Y/n smiled politely at them both, then glanced down at the heavily panting dog at her feet, “Well, I better get this guy out of this heat. See you guys in a bit, then?” She led the dog past them, glancing back over her shoulder, her lips pursed as she watched Sarah poke at her father’s side sharply. 

The young girl smirked at her dad knowingly, remaining silent, though the expression on her face made her thoughts very clear to the man. She scowled at him, crossing her arms over her chest, “Christina’s sister is so right; all boys are stupid.”

The man scowled at his daughter, watching in silence as she moved around him without another word, disappearing through the front door without so much as another glance. Joel scoffed, shaking his head at her, and wondering how the hell his nine year old could be so goddamn right about the situation. 

– – –

Joel wiped his hands anxiously across the expanse of his thighs, attempting to rid himself of the nervous sweat that had collected in his palms as he stood on Y/n’s front step, mustering up the courage to finally knock. 

“The fuck am I doing,” He cursed to himself, shaking his head as he ran a hand over his face. 

Y/n was younger than him; not by a lot, but they were still in very different stages of their lives. He wasn’t willing to admit that he genuinely did like her, and considering that she was still a young woman and still in college, he wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for with him. Was it just some quick fuck that she wanted? Joel wouldn’t be opposed–hell, he was ashamed that he’d imagined such a thing more than a few times since meeting her–but he wasn’t sure if he could jump into bed with her and then move on with his life, nor could he expect her to be willing to just pick up the role of step-mother to his little girl. 

Joel had woken up on October 17, hungover as hell and struggling to recall any of his memories from the night before. He’d forced himself out of bed much earlier than he would have liked, needing to pick Sarah up before her soccer game. The man had stumbled his way into the shower, blindly going through the motions of bathing himself as the warm water slowly began to remove the fog from his mind. It was then, as he had reached out for his bottle of body wash that he noticed the smudge of blue ink on his skin, and then jumping in surprise at the memory of the beautiful woman who had given him her phone number–the woman who had him laughing like he hadn’t in so long and blushing harder than he thought possible–the woman who he hoped was now lying peacefully in her bed next door, preferably all on her own. 

The few times that he had seen her since then, he had thought about apologising for not calling and telling her the truth of what had happened, despite his embarrassment. He wanted to ask for it again, but every time, Sarah was there, making a fuss over the little pooch that never seemed to leave Y/n’s side. He wished that he were more confident in himself, more willing to speak to other women even if his daughter was there, but he simply would never be able to look at the young girl again if Y/n were to reject him. 

“Shit,” He swore loudly as he turned to rush off of the step, instead booting one of the carefully carved jack-o-lanterns onto the pavement of the driveway and watching in horror as it shattered on impact. 

“Joel?” He froze at the sound of the door creaking open behind him, smiling bashfully at the young woman as he did his best to not appear too guilty. Her eyes fell from his flushed face to the mess of orange at his feet, a surprised chuckle leaving her lips, “Damn, you really do hate Halloween, huh? Enough to come over here and start destroying my decorations, anyway.”

He sputtered for an answer, “I–it was an accident, I just knocked it off by accident on my way out–”

“Your way out?” She questioned, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the doorframe, “So what, you were just loitering on my front step?”

He scoffed at her, “I was actually on my way to apologise, but if you’d rather I just get lost…”

Y/n raised a brow inquisitively, “I’m listening.”

“I just–I’m sorry for not calling,” Joel admitted with a sigh, debating whether or not it would be best to explain exactly why, “For what it’s worth, I would have if I hadn’t washed it off by accident.”

An amused expression crossed her features as she mulled over his explanation, “You…washed it off?”

He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, “I did.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, as if she were trying to decipher whether or not he was being truthful, “Okay.”

His gaze shifted from side to side, uncertain as to what she meant, “Okay?”

“Okay,” She affirmed, “So what time did you wanna come over tonight?”

Joel swallowed the lump in his throat, “Tonight?”

Y/n shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the butterflies that slammed at the lining of her stomach and threatened to erupt, “Tonight. You said it yourself, Sarah’s gonna be gone all night, so would  you rather be home alone or come over? Otherwise, I’ll just be here by myself, scared and in need of a devastatingly handsome cowboy to protect me from Michael Myers.”

Blush spread across his cheeks, his hands coming up to rest on his hips, “I don’t know about ‘devastatingly handsome’, but I think I could handle some asshole in a mask.”

She grinned at him wickedly, “That’s what everyone thinks, but I guess we’ll see tonight, around eight?”

“Eight.” He confirmed, then glanced down at the mess at his feet, “And sorry about your pumpkin.”

“It’s alright,” Y/n smirked, “You’ll just have to work extra hard to make it up to me.”

– – –

Joel anxiously adjusted his shirt, frowning at himself in the window of her front door. Despite dismissing Sarah’s teasing by claiming that this was in fact, not a date, he’d taken her advice in showering the moment that he had gotten into the house. 

He was aware that she was flirting with him, but until he had gotten out of the shower, towel sitting low around his waist as he wiped the steam away from the mirror and took in his shaggy appearance, he had not been at all concerned about what activities the night might lead to. Staring at his own reflection, nervousness quickly began to settle into his bones.

He had made quick work with the clipper, shortening the length of his facial hair after several weeks of negligence and leaving his lower face to be covered by a light stubble. He put a little more effort into his hair than usual, running a thin layer of gel through it while noting to himself that it was probably time for a haircut. He even took things a step further, dabbing a few drops of some woodsy cologne onto his skin; the bottle had gone untouched for two years, having been a Christmas present from his mother.

“Are you wearing cologne?” Sarah asked as she appeared at his side, face painted to resemble a circus clown, “I knew this was a date.”

“It’s not a date,” He argued, doing his best not to jump in fright at her appearance, “Shouldn’t you be out on the town by now, Ronald McDonald?”

“You showered, put on cologne, and you’re bringing candy? It’s a date.” Sarah listed, “And I’m Pennywise, by the way. Christina’s sister is coming to pick me up soon. She says that guys always dress up when she goes out with them because they want her–”

Joel grunted, glaring at his daughter, “I want you to stop hanging around Christina’s sister.”

Sarah ignored his comment, “Is that what you’re wearing?”

Joel glanced down at his outfit–a clean pair of jeans and an old t-shirt that he’d probably gotten out of a beer box or something, “What’s wrong with this?”

“What’s right with it?” 

Joel considered his parenting style for a moment, wondering if he would be free of this headache if he had spanked his daughter once or twice in her life. Sometimes he forgot that the girl was only nine years old with how intelligent she was and how much more mature she seemed in comparison to other kids her age. 

“It’s not a date, Sarah.”

She rolled her eyes, “It could be. Come on.”

Sarah rushed past him, leading him into his own bedroom as she began to dig through his closet. She frowned with almost every piece that she picked out, tossing them behind her recklessly and ignoring her father’s scolding for the mess that she had quickly created. 

“Hah!” The girl pulled out an egg-plant button down and shoved it into his grasp, “I knew you had to have something that wasn’t that ugly.”

He grunted at her, but didn’t reply out of respect for her brutal honesty as he quickly shed himself of the worn t-shirt he’d previously been wearing in favour of the one that Sarah had chosen. Now, as he stood at her front door and internally decided for himself that this was a date, he couldn’t help but thank God for his daughter’s awareness.

Finally, after tugging at the hem of his shirt, he raised a fist and knocked heavily on the door. Joel choked on his own saliva when she appeared in the window, smiling sweetly at him when she pulled the door open. She had already changed into a pair of black yoga pants and a sky blue shirt that exposed just a tasteful amount of her midriff. 

“Hi, again,” she breathed, a smile forming on her face, “You look nice, purple is definitely your colour.”

Joel burned, “I–thank you. Sarah picked it out.”

Y/n turned to the girl, who had already ushered the dog up onto the sofa with her, “Well she has a clear eye for style.”

“She definitely thinks so, that girl damn near harrasses me about my clothes everyday.” Y/n laughed out loud, Joel’s ears tingling at the melodious sound, “You look great, too.”

Y/n beamed down at her outfit, shrugging to herself, “Thanks, I thought about keeping my costume on but I wasn’t entirely sure how much you would be into Strawberry Shortcake.”

Joel chuckled at her, glancing down at the object in his hand, “I brought beer, by the way. Wasn’t sure if I should bring anything, or if you even like–”

Y/n reached out, snatching the six pack from his grasp, “Ever the gentleman, cowboy. So, you coming in?”

– – –

The house was filled with laughter, both having nearly finished their first beer as they shared stories freely. Halloween played quietly in the background, though neither of them paid too much attention. Y/n did her best not to physically melt when she felt Joel’s arm drape across the back of the sofa behind her, resisting the urge to tease him for attempting to cover it up by faking a dramatic yawn. 

She brushed her fingers along the top of his thigh, smirking to herself as she watched his leg slowly shift closer to her, though he didn’t address the affectionate touch. He spoke to her softly, and made an effort to hold eye contact with her as he did to–she was starting to feel some guilt about the conclusion that he’d drawn about him after he’d failed to call her. Her own gaze continuously fell to his lips as he spoke, and she was sure that he had noticed by the way that his lips began to curl confidently. Her heart hammered in her chest, wondering how much longer she would need to wait before he finally made a move.

Joel, however, was wondering exactly how he possibly could make a move. While feeling confident around her, there was no way to escape the fact that he hadn’t been on a date in at least a year, and he could count the amount of women he’d slept with since Sarah’s mother on one hand. At various points throughout the night, he had considered leaning in to kiss her, but had successfully siked himself out each time. The first time, he’d been interrupted by the pooch who had been jealous of his owner’s attention being focused elsewhere, though he could only blame every other time on his own insecurity.

“Do you want another beer?” Y/n asked as he swallowed the last gulp out of his can, “Or I have wine and pop?”

“Pop,” he scoffed, chest rumbling with quiet laughter.

She raised her hand and slapped his pec as she stood up from the couch, “Fine, you don’t get anything.”

He laughed, watching as she disappeared into the kitchen and shamelessly admiring the shape of her backside in the darkness of the dimly lit living room. He sat there for a few moments, staring at the movie in discontent, sighing as he ran his hand over his face and murmured a nearly silent fuck it, and following after her. 

“Is it too late to apologise and get that beer?” 

She glanced over her shoulder at him, smirking as she shrugged coyly as she turned and leaned her back against the front of the refrigerator and holding the perspiring can out in front of her, “You’ll have to come get it yourself.”

Joel crossed the small room in two long strides, stopping as the can met his chest, though he paid it little mind as she stepped away from the fridge, pressing a fleeting kiss to his lips. He froze for a second, stomach clenching at the soft touch. 

“Sorry,” Y/n whispered, though her tone betrayed how unapologetic she truly was, “Was that okay?”

He didn’t respond, quickly taking the beer out of her grasp and tossing it onto the counter as he cupped her face, capturing her lips with his and pressing her back against the fridge once more. She smiled against his lips, fingers bunching in the material of his plum coloured shirt and tugging him even closer. 

His lips were chapped against her own, the telltale sign of a busy man who hadn’t been too concerned with his physical appearance up until now, though she could not picture another kiss that she had received in the last several years that would even compare to Joel’s. 

One of his hands fell, fingers splaying around her waist as he pressed even closer, parting his lips as he felt the tip of her tongue prod at the seam and allowing her to seek out his own. He moaned at her taste, fingers wandering to her hip and hesitating, almost as if he had been asking for her permission to move even lower. She grasped his hand, guiding it around to cup her bottom.

Pulling away for air, she giggled softly and fluttered her eyelids open to find him already staring at her with blown pupils. One of her hands slid up his chest, tugging at the collar of his shirt before her fingers trailed over his patchy beard affectionately, “I don’t know if this is too soon, but do you wanna move to my bedroom?”

Joel chuckled at her, squeezing her cheek through her yoga pants, “Lead the way.”

– – –

Joel worried that he might have gone into cardiac arrest as he struggled to catch his breath, back slouched against the headboard as Y/n slumped flush against his chest. The cotton sheets pooled around her hips as she continued to move softly, working them both through the aftershocks of their climaxes. The man sighed in appreciation as her lips continued to slide against his jawline and leave gentle kisses in their wake, her fingers still lost in his dark curls.

Joel’s own hands squeezed her hips as she finally slowed to a stop, helping her slide off of him and smirking to himself at the whine she let out at the loss of contact. She shifted, moving out of his lap and curling into the cool sheets on the bed next to him.

“How was that?” He panted, “Have I done enough to make up for lost time?”

She grinned at him, her own chest rising and falling with her slowing breaths, “I think I recall doing most of the work, actually.”

“Bein’ on top doesn’t mean you were doing any work, sweetheart, I think we both know that.” His eyes fell on the digital alarm clock on her bedside table, grunting to himself as he took note of the late hour, “Shit–how the hell is it ten-thirty already?”

She glanced over to the clock briefly, then back at him, “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

Staring down at her nude form, guilt began to eat away at him as he began to slide off of the mattress and begin gathering his clothes that had been scattered around the room. 

“Are you leaving?” His back was turned to her as he pulled on his jeans, though he could only imagine the look on her face from the emotion that dripped from her voice; she was disappointed, facing the reality that she would be abandoned after doing something so intimate. 

“I mean…” Joel coughed, “Yeah, I should probably leave. Gotta work early tomorrow, and Sarah’s got soccer practice, and–”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” She sat up, hugging her knees to her chest in an attempt to regain her modesty, “I get it.”

Joel couldn’t help but wonder how many times she’d done this. She seemed disheartened, but not entirely surprised at his decision to head out, as if she was expecting this time to be different from the others–as if she was expecting Joel to be any different from the other shitty guys she’d met since moving to Austin.

“Darlin’,” Joel cooed, coming to sit at the edge of the mattress and cupping her face in his large palms, “It’s not like that. I want nothing more than to stay the night, but I know that I won’t sleep a wink tonight if I do.” His thumb stroked her bottom lip as her mouth slanted into a small, saddened smile. He leaned in, pressing three kisses to her lips, each one longer than the last before pulling back, “Can I get your number? I promise I won’t ask for a third time.”

Y/n smiled at him, kissing him once more before snatching a pen off of the bedside table and scribbling on his hand, “You won’t get it if you ask for a third time, Miller.”

MARCH 12, 1999

Y/n sighed blissfully, gnawing at her lip to prevent any moans of pleasure as Joel worked himself into her over and over, his hips meeting hers with slow, meaningful movements as he did his best to keep both of them quiet. Joel wasn’t normally one for booty calls, though he had hardly seen her in the past few days and couldn’t resist when his mind had wandered while in the shower–and for the first time in what felt like decades, he could rely on the help of soft, feminine touches rather than his own fast and rough tugs. 

Her thighs shook, teeth biting into the pillow beneath her face as she pressed her hips back against him and arched her spine in pleasure. She met his thrusts enthusiastically, fingers winding into the sheets tightly. 

“Shit,” She gasped, “Joel, I’m gonna–”

“I know,” He rasped, “Shhh baby. Let go, I’ve got you.”

She didn’t hold back, allowing the white hot pleasure to run through her veins, muffling her cries in the plushness of the pillow. Her walls clenched around him, gripping him for everything that she could manage as he fucked her through it, head rolled back in pleasure as his own orgasm teetered over the edge. His fingers tightened around her hips, hauling her back against him a few more times before his seed painted the inside of the condom. 

His hands slid up from her hips, one pressing on her back to force her to lay flat against the mattress while the other cupped the soft flesh of her belly to roll her over. Joel took in her figure, eyes scanning her face for any signs of discomfort before dropping to her breasts; the man was absolutely entranced by the shape of her breasts, eagerly pawing at them during makeout sessions and suckling at them with the utmost love and desire as he fucked her. She smiled at him tiredly, hooded eyes admiring his own figure as he slipped out of her, sliding off of the bed and disappearing into the ensuite. 

When he returned, he wore a pair of black boxers and carried a maroon washcloth in his hand, carefully parting her legs and sliding the cloth through her folds, puffy and sore from his touch. He whispered an entirely disingenuous apology as he pressed lightly against her abused clit, chuckling to himself as she jumped. Tossing the cloth aside, he settled into the mattress next to her, sliding an arm around her waist and tugging her into his side, sighing in relief at the physical contact. 

The rising sun had slowly begun to peek through the blinds, filling the room with a soft glow in the aftermath of the third round. Y/n glanced at the clock on the far wall, sighing to herself as reality settled into her bones. She hadn’t intended on staying so long, especially after how eagerly the both of them had initiated the first round, having allowed herself to remain at his side until she felt his member begin to grow against her thigh once more. Now, after taking him inside of her three times over the past six hours, she knew that she would eventually need to get up and leave–a habit that they both had and hated when they were finished. 

She pressed careful kisses into his flesh, lips moulding to the sweaty skin of his shoulder and neck affectionately while her palm rubbed circles into his firm chest. Joel nuzzled his head into her hair, his own lips pressing to the crown of her head as he, too, appreciated the afterglow. 

Y/n’s body and heart screamed at her as she finally pulled herself away from him, hopping out of the bed and collecting her clothing from the floor. Joel watched her with sunken eyes, his attempt to remain stoic as he easily recognised what she was doing proving fruitless.

“You don’t–you don’t gotta go just yet,” he called to her, desperation lacing his voice, “Don’t gotta be at the site till eleven tomorrow–”

“Today,” she corrected, “And that’s in seven hours. Besides, I don’t wanna fall asleep and risk having to run into Sarah. I should probably leave.” 

He nodded slowly, continuing to watch her as she dressed and fixed her appearance, preparing herself mentally and physically for her four A.M. walk of shame. Joel wanted to call her back to bed again, to convince her to stay with him and promise breakfast in the morning, but instead watched helplessly as she disappeared into the dark hallway, and closed his eyes disappointedly at the sound of the front door closing behind her.

JUNE 2, 1999

Golden rays of sun peeked through the blinds, trailing up the length of the bed with each passing moment before finally gracing over the soft skin of the woman next to him. Joel laid in his bed as still as possible, one arm around her shoulders to keep her flush against his chest, savouring the intimate, domestic moment before it would eventually come to an end–it always did.

The alarm clock flashed the time tauntingly at him, as if mocking him for wanting to keep her there for much longer than he knew he could. This was undoubtedly the latest she had stayed in his bed; it was nearing six A.M. and she had yet to stir from her deep slumber. 

His eyes trailed the length of her bare back, his fingers pressing gently at the indent of her spine as he pushed her body impossibly closer to her and bathing himself in the feeling of her nude body against his own. Joel resisted the urge to shake the growing ache out of his leg as pins and needles crawled up the length of his limb, too afraid to move and wake her–he knew what would come once her eyes had opened, as she had done it countless times now. 

It was the twitch of her fingers against the soft flesh of his belly that alerted him to her growing consciousness, nails following the pattern of hair that covered his abdomen softly, drawing a quiet moan of delight from the man beneath her. He felt the curve of her lips against his shoulder, turning his head to meet her eyes as they fluttered open.

“Morning, cowboy,” Her throat was dry and her voice was scratchy, but her words still held the power of causing an eruption of butterflies in his gut. 

“Morning,” He leaned closer, the tips of his nose brushing her own before she swatted him away, covering her mouth self-consciously and mumbling something about morning breath. Joel chuckled at her, moving her hand away and planting a soft, closed-mouth kiss against her lips. 

Her smile grew, hazy vision flickering around the sun-lit bedroom as realisation dawned on her, “What time is it?”

Joel’s own smile faltered as he cleared his throat, glancing over at the alarm clock again, “Five-to-six.”

“Shit,” She groaned, a hand settling on her forehead, “I should probably leave. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” 

Joel shook his head at her, “You ain’t got nothing to apologise for. I like having you here.”

She pecked his lips again, fondness creeping through her at the man’s admission, “I like being here. But I should go before Sarah wakes up.”

Joel caught her arm as she moved to crawl out of the bed, “Stay.”

“What?”

“Sarah knows you’ve been coming around and leaving early in the morning.” He told her, thumb smoothing circles against her wrist, “She says she’s happy for me, but she said that she won’t approve until you start bringing that damn dog of yours over here when you come.”

Y/n chuckled, her eyes growing a thin red rim along her waterline, “What are you saying?”

“I’m asking you to stay. Every damn night you spend here, you go rushing out like this is just a quick fuck, but I think we both know that it’s a lot more than that. Just come back to bed, please.”

Y/n shook her head at him, glancing over at the rising sun through the blinds in contemplation before she finally shrugged, crawling back into the bed and settling against his naked form with a sigh, her hand resting on his chest as she massaged small circles into his sweaty flesh. Both of them relaxed into one another, enjoying the silence of the early morning and dreading the unavoidable fate of the alarm going off in the coming hour.

NOVEMBER 27, 1999

Y/n tapped her nails against the hardwood of the tabletop rhythmically, doing her best not to make her dissociation too clear as her friends and family chattered back and forth. Her mother was busy on her left hand side, sharing dozens of her favourite childhood photographs to Y/n’s friends with a fondness that only a mother could have, while the seat to her left was empty. The watch that she’d received as a gift from her parents sat on her wrist, the time ticking away as grief settled in her stomach, the realisation that he simply wasn’t coming eating away at her pride.

Her birthday was not something that she generally liked to celebrate, but knowing that her parents, siblings, and a few members of her extended family had orchestrated a trip to visit and celebrate with her had her counting down the days, especially after she had convinced her unofficial boyfriend to join them for dinner at one of the nicest wallet-friendly restaurants in Austin. Now, as she sat silently and watched as her friends laughed and cooed over possibly the most embarrassing photos of her while picking at their slices of birthday cake, her mind only wandered to where exactly he was, and how much more fun she would be having if she were warding him off of any of those photographs–especially all of the ones from her junior high years. 

She hadn’t had the chance to speak to him at all that day, having woken up after he had already left for work and dropped Sarah off at school. At the time, Y/n had smiled to herself, thanking him mentally for allowing her to sleep in on her birthday, though she was beginning to wonder if she should have taken the lack of birthday wishes as a sign. 

She actively avoided Stephanie’s gaze, wanting to escape the oncoming I told you so, and made as little eye contact as possible with her mother, who watched her sympathetically, and her father, who silently raged over the presence of the empty chair. Y/n now felt embarrassed over how much she’d actually gushed over the man to her family before dinner, wondering if maybe she was more invested in him than he was in her. After all, he had yet to officially ask her to be his girlfriend, despite the fact that she and Manny had taken up residence in his home at least four nights a week and that she had been included in more recent movie nights with him and Sarah. 

Maybe she was reading into it too much–something must have happened. Something happened to Sarah, or maybe Tommy had been locked up again. There was no way that Joel had forgotten her birthday, there was simply no way.

– – –

Joel’s feet ached, crying out in pain with every step and sighing in relief as he finally kicked off his heavy boots. The crew that he’d brought on for his most recent and highest paying job to date had given him hell that day, leaving him aching for nothing more than a hot shower and a peaceful night at home with his best girls. He hated having to tack on extra hours to his day, but not arriving home until after ten was something that he would have to deal with in order to finish the job, and he was hoping to save up to take Y/n and Sarah on a little getaway for a weekend in the near future. 

The kitchen was dim when he stepped in, and he was somewhat surprised when he discovered no plate of food left for him in the microwave, nor was there a pan of leftovers in the fridge. Instead, there was a single empty carton of a microwavable dinner on the counter along with an empty can of Pepsi. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, he shrugged it off, though he had grown accustomed to Y/n bringing dinner over and making sure that it was ready for him on days that he worked late. 

Soft footsteps rushed down the stairs, Sarah rounding the corner with a wide grin on her face as she held a small piece of paper in her hands. 

“Hey babygirl,” Joel kissed her head softly as he moved into the living room, even more confused when he did not find Y/n curled up on the couch with a stack of her textbooks, as she so often did while waiting for him to return. 

“Hi dad,” Sarah’s smile dropped, glancing back into the entryway in confusion, “Where’s Y/n? I made this card at school today but I figured I’d wait until after you guys came back to give it to her.”

The blood in Joel’s veins ran cold, his heart skipping a beat at the sudden realisation of why his house appeared to be so void of his girlfriend, “Fuck.”

“Dad?” Sarah’s wide eyes narrowed, all too used to her father’s undiagnosed case of short-term memory loss, though he had never ever forgotten something like this before.

“Shit,” He swore again, snatching his keys off of the counter and rushing to jam his feet back into his uncomfortable boots, “Sarah, go to bed. I’ll be back later tonight.”

The girl watched helplessly as her father raced out the door, tears welling in her eyes as she stared down at the happy picture she had pasted into the card and frowning as she feared the worst.

– – –

Joel arrived at the restaurant just before eleven. He knew it was a long shot, as the reservation was for seven-thirty, which he had purposefully written down and stuck to the fridge so that he would not forget. The few remaining staff inside shook their heads in pity at the man, quickly coming to understand his situation as he rushed inside, asking about the reservation with a bouquet of flowers in his grasp. 

His shoulders slumped as he parked in his driveway, trudging across the lawn into the neighbouring yard and knocking firmly on the door. He waited a few moments, cursing quietly as he got no response and knocking again. 

His frown deepened when the door swung open, a fuming Stephanie standing in his way. Her face burned scarlet, fists clenched at her side as she took in Joel’s pitiful appearance. She took a step forward, joining Joel on the front step and closing the door behind her. 

“The fuck do you want?” 

“Where’s Y/n?” He asked, ignoring her bluntness.

“She doesn’t wanna talk to you,” the girl sneered at him. “It’s one thing to stand someone up, even to forget their birthday, but to embarrass her like that in front of her family?” She scoffed, “you know, I warned her about you, but I took no pleasure in being right. You should have seen her tonight, barely spoke at all.”

The metaphorical knife in Joel’s gut twisted at her words, the fist clenching the bouquet tightening even further around the stems. He could picture her; all dolled up, chatting with her family as she eagerly awaited his arrival, her pretty smile dampening as time passed and eventual tears in her eyes as she realised the truth–he had forgotten about her. 

“Just let me talk to her,” he begged, “Please.”

Stephanie shook her head, “I think it’s best if you never show your face on my property again, Miller.”

“Joel?” Both of their eyes turned at the sound of Y/n’s voice, finding her peeking around the door curiously. “Steph, can you give us a minute?”

The woman sent Joel one final glare, patting her roommate on the shoulder before slipping back into the house. 

If the knowledge of what he’d done hadn’t been enough, Y/n’s appearance was the final blow to his gut. Her eyes were bloodshot, cheeks swollen and marked with visible remnants of tears. She wrung her fingers together anxiously, keeping her gaze lowered in shame as she closed the door behind her and turned to face him.

“Baby–” 

“Don’t.” Y/n interrupted, “Just explain.”

He sniffled, “I can’t explain it, or excuse it. We got held up at work, and I really need this job to be done and over with already. I’m so sorry, baby.”

She shook her head, lifting her sleeve to wipe at the underside of her nose, “You didn’t even say goodbye before you left this morning. Did you even remember at all?”

Joel bit his lip, “I’m sorry. Let me–”

“Joel,” Her voice cracked, “I love you.” His heart soared as she spoke those words for the first time, then shattered as she continued, “I understand that I’m not your first priority–that’ll always be Sarah and I can’t blame you for that. But, fuck, you suggested the restaurant, Joel. You spoke to my mom over the phone and promised her the best steak in town, and she sure seemed to like it, but you weren’t even there. I won’t ever be your first priority, but I can’t be your last, either.”

“Y/n–”

“I think my cousins liked it, you know.” She continued, wiping at her cheeks, “They’re the type to pray for your downfall, and I’m sure they were loving every second of the dinner once everyone realised that you weren’t coming. Hell, all I did all night was talk about how amazing you were, and then–” Y/n cut herself off with a quiet sob.  “You should probably leave.” 

“Don’t do this,” Joel cupped her face, dropping the flowers to the deck recklessly as he wiped the tears away from her cheeks with his thumbs, “Tell me what to do. Hit me, yell at me, do something, but don’t ask me to walk away.”

She looked into his eyes, and for a moment, Joel felt hopeful that she might actually listen to him, though all hope was quickly diminished as he removed herself from his grasp, reaffirming her statement as she stepped back into the house.

“You should probably leave.”

[meadow-of-daisies-and-lavender]

Deity! 141 AU HCs

A/N: Just some ramblings about the 141 as deities in my poly AU

(18+ only)

Please comment and reblog!

Captain John Price

God of the East Woods, who is represented by winter. He is known for his leadership skills, analytical abilities, and good faith in his men.

As he is known for leadership skills, he is known as the god most worshiped by leaders who seek guidance in their ability to command others. He is also known for being the one sought out by outcasts who are looking for community. He’ll help you find your way, don’t you worry. You belong somewhere; we just have to find where.

Contrary to popular belief, John does not participate in assisting those who force their command over others. He believes in leading by example and earning the privilege of leadership.

 He is most closely associated with cold metal, with his altar decorated in winter wreaths, warm spices, and delicate metalwork.

Kyle Garrick

God of the North Woods, represented by Spring and water. He is courageous, knowledgeable in the social and environmental climate, and can foresee the cause and effects of many actions on the battlefield.

He is worshiped by those beginning new endeavors. As the youngest and newest god (which, how new can ancient beings really be?), myths range from his grand displays of courage to self-doubt. His stories paint imagery of humbleness and of an eager learner. To those seeking new starts, he is the perfect divine being to guide you to ask questions and be courageous in the midst of change.

Kyle, while known best for being the god of changes, is also the patron of mystics for his foreseeing abilities (and beauticians. He likes his skincare and pretty things). As the foreseeing one, he knows all the outcomes and can assist divination practitioners in seeking knowledge of the future.

Just because Kyle can help doesn’t mean he will. Many fortune-tellers have reported trickery and confusion trying to get answers from him. He likes his jokes and finds seeing humans guessing about the future amusing. Won’t they find out eventually?

 His altar is decorated with bowls of water representing spring rain and winds. As spring flowers bloom, they are also decorated upon his altar. The seed of each planted crop is represented on the altar as a blessing for a productive sowing season.

Johnny McTavish

The god of summer and of the southlands. McTavish is known for quick, fiery actions mirrored by a thunderstorm's quick turn or a wildfire's spark.

While he might have fiery emotions, the god is methodological in his delivery of quick actions. For this reason, if you need help finding passion, McTavish is the god for you. He is the patron of athletes and artisans who harness passion into practice and dedication to their craft.

The god of summer is precise! If you seek his help, be specific and think about what you need versus what you want. His help will come on his timing, but it’ll be exactly what you asked for. He finds it funny when mortals get upset by this. Usually, if he is going to be helpful to the mortals, it is on his terms and conditions, and you’ll know by a sudden splash of warmth on your skin or by the way events just so happen to align that it could only be the work of a god.

His altar is decorated with an always-lit candle. There are summer fruits in bowls and an icon of a thunderbolt descending from the sky to represent his passions.

The one they call “Ghost”

The god of the south and autumn season, mortals know the least about him. His mythology is sparse, usually featuring him as a supporting character in someone else’s myth (usually Johnny’s) with a dry sense of humor.

He is the god of the ground that is transitioning into hibernation, the god of intelligence, knowing when to take ground and when to give ground. He is the wisdom gained from remembering the bones and dust from whence you came. He is the patron of the elderly and wise, of those who understand the power of listening before speaking to the aged ideals that came before you.

Hidden by shadows of the unknown, protected by the bones of the dying, Ghost is not a death god, but he represents the bridge between mortals and the spiritual, helping those who are dying.

Ghost is not a god you call upon lightly. He will make you search your shadows, forcing you to gaze upon those fearsome things that hide in all mortal souls. If you ask to see the divine, he will show you it when you are ready. But it will not look pretty or neat or holy. It will be sacred in its raw, awesome terror, a power unleashed that mortals cannot grasp.

Ghost’s alter typically has a buck skull on it- the first buck killed of the season. Black and grey altar cloths are laid beneath the walnut bowls holding the nuts and acorns offered to the god.

Once upon a time, there were four gods. Together, they took turns helping the mortals. But what spirit connects them all, centering their efforts? Of what clear mission banner do they unite under? To whom is the focal point of life’s great mysteries? It had always been assumed human mortals as a collective to be that focal point. But the myths do not end with the death of the old. They continue and will grow with the next generations and generations next.

[simpxxstan]

CONGRATULATIONS FOR 550 FOLLOWERS!!! YOU DESERVE IT AND A LOTTTTT MOREEE!!!! 💖❤️💕

For the celebration can I please request wonwoo + one of the girls (by weekend)

- love ya 💝💞

thank you so much! your request is perfect because i've associated this song with wonwoo so many times UGH hope you like this!!

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the content of this event here!

genre: actors au, smut, toxic relationship, angst

word count: 4.4k

warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT very toxic and manipulative wonwoo, actor!wonwoo, self confidence issues, self-image issues, mentions of dieting to alter appearances, implied big age gap, fwb dynamics, usage of pet names (doll, love, babe, darling), dom-sub dynamics, dom!wonwoo, sub!reader, public sex, implied spanking and edging, unprotected sex (do not do this irl pls), mirror sex, mild bondage, oral (m. receiving, f. receiving), verbal fighting, very ambiguous ending.

wonwoo doesn't even know your name. but his eyes have been on yours through the entire evening of the post-premiere party. you're happy being a wallflower- you don't even expect anything else. Because why would anyone notice a simple side character when there are so many stars to steal the show?

and yet, his eyes have strayed to you through the crowds of the party. even when he's in the spotlight, even when all the cameras are flashing on him, even when his co-star, who's the highest-paid actress in the country right now, keeps rubbing her body against his arm; even when every other woman in the party is busy flaunting their figures and their charms to him; even when everyone has their eyes on him.

you think you're mistaken. you quietly sip on your cocktail, staying on the sidelines. you're not really looking for attention tonight. your character might be a small one, just a minor role, but you're still extremely proud of yourself. you've just made your film debut, and you're just twenty-three. young enough for just a little success to fuel infinite adrenaline, but also old enough to know how to control your fire. tonight is for the small victories for you, and you've made up your mind to retire early, and go home to your friends and actually begin the party.

"y/n?" you spin around so fast that your hair whips into your face.

"mr. jeon?"

wonwoo's right there, his hair slicked back with gel, wearing the hottest design of the season effortlessly. there's a pair of glasses sitting casually on his nose, one eyebrow slightly raised. "there's no need to be formal, you know. we are colleagues, please call me wonwoo."

your nervousness must be visible through your face, because wonwoo's eyes sparkle with amusement. frankly, you don't even know how wonwoo even knows your name. you haven't interacted with him directly through the film- except for the fifteen minutes of the climax scene where you were on the screen at the same time as him.

"i- i'm sorry. wonwoo."

"happy to see you here. hope you're enjoying the party?"

your breath stutters. "i- i am. yes, very much." it's a fucking lie. you haven't moved from this spot for the last half an hour, you've been sipping on the same cocktail for the last ten minutes, and you've only conversed with two more actors in the film who had equally small roles as you.

wonwoo smiles at you, and your heart skips a beat. it's the same effect he has on every goddamn person. it's why he's become who he is now- charming, handsome and everyone's walking wet dream. "i'll see you around, then." and then he's gone, your eyes left wide and your thoughts all scattered.

_

you see wonwoo again when he invites you to a party at his country house. you think he's mistakenly invited you, up until the moment that the gates open for you when the guards see your face. you're sure glad you specially bought a new dress for this occasion, because the party seems to be filled with the cream of the celebrities of the current scene. and yet, his eyes find yours again. "you're here." you've prepared yourself better now, so that he doesn't render you a stuttering, stumbling mess again. "i couldn't turn down your invitation, of course." you're wearing your favourite wine-shaded lipstick, and you've chosen a dress that tastefully shows enough skin to make you look more a woman and less a girl.

it works on wonwoo.

he steps closer to you, his eyes raking over your figure. you can see enough haze in his obsidian eyes to know his look is one of appreciation. it has a wild effect on you- the combined attack of the scent of his cologne and the way his hair's pushed off his forehead to expose his strong eyebrows has your blood rushing. "you look beautiful." your eyes raise to meet his, and he hands a glass of wine into your hands, his fingers lingering on to the ghost of your touch for a second too long. "thank you?" you cringe at the tone of your own words. "i- sorry. i don't know just how to react about the fact i'm here at your party." you purse your lips and avert your gaze, only stealing glances at wonwoo when he chuckles. "you're finding this funny." "i'm not laughing at you, i swear." the wine's pretty strong. you don't like the taste of it except you can't say so to wonwoo who must've spent the racks on this. "you are. but you must be used to this. fans, after all." "well, it is an honour that you're a fan." "honour? i'm sure it's not. i'm a nobody."

wonwoo leans in, closer to you, his voice low enough to ensure no one else hears him except you.

"a beautiful lady is never a nobody."

you stay next to wonwoo through the evening. on the sofa, in front of the guests, at the dining table, in the balcony when wonwoo takes a cigarette break. he doesn't leave your side all evening, and who are you to turn him away?

_

wonwoo takes you on his yacht the next weekend.

"i have to ask you something." you've worn your favourite jumpsuit for the occasion, and wonwoo's standing on the neck, a polo t-shirt snug on his body.

"yes?"

"what is it exactly that you're doing? you and i are not friends, jeon wonwoo."

"you're right. we're not friends." wonwoo lifts his sunglass off his eyes and stands close to you. the night air makes your hair fly off into the hair, and he extends a hand to touch the skin on your neck that's left exposed. "i don't want to be friends with you, y/n. i just want you."

you gulp. you hesitate. that's your biggest mistake. because it takes your heart that one idle second to fold into wonwoo's charms, and you part your lips at the way his fingers rub circles into the same sensitive spot on your neck.

"what do you think? will you let me touch you?" god, how can he say it so easily?

you tilt your head to give him better access.

_

wonwoo makes love to you on the deck that night. you're fully sober, you're barely 100 metres away from the coast where everyone can see you. but you still let wonwoo strip off your dress and lay you out on the deck to suck at your breasts and fuck his fingers into your wet, sloppy cunt. when your cum is smothered all over his hands, he takes you to his bedroom. your hands are tied back, your body arching to give him more access. there's so much he's giving you- so many sensations at once. he brings a cube of ice and rubs it over your nipples to soothe them after the way he's sucked them red for so long. when your body shivers because of the ice, he pulls you into his arms, whispering soothing praise in your ears- even going as far as letting you grind down on his thigh. your hands are freed as he drives his cock into your cunt, all at once. you scream out his name- you've never taken such a big cock, but you want to please him. so bad. so you let him thrust himself into you lazily until you're begging him to go faster.

somewhere in the middle of the night, you lose your mind and beg him to use you. wonwoo's smirk is a memory you'll never forget even if you don't see him ever again. it's a smirk that will remind you of the way he flipped you on top of him, laying you out on his lap, as he leans on the headboard of his bed and calmly fingers your cunt again, pushing his cum back into you, until your eyes roll back and you lose all sense of time and place.

the last thing you remember from that night is when wonwoo kisses you, and fucks you into the mattress, and you grasp onto his shoulders as he relentlessly pumps into you. "so lovely, my doll. you're my doll, isn't that right?" you don't even know what you're saying at this point- it's too late into the night and all your thoughts are clouded by just wonwoo. "yes. yours, yours, yours."

_

wonwoo comes to your apartment the next day, with a bouquet of calla lilies and takeout food. the food doesn't get eaten for dinner, you do. the food gets eaten the next morning, your entire body too weak to even stand up straight. he feeds you as he sits next to you on the bed, kissing your forehead every two seconds. he runs a bath for you, and lifts you straight from the bed to the tub, and kisses you until your entire body relaxes in the warm water.

you don't talk much about anything other than the lust running thick through your veins for the entire day. you turn on the tv to watch something, but you end up sucking wonwoo's cock when he sits back on your couch and holds the end of your head to ensure you're taking him to the back of your throat, murmuring praises to you without a moment's lapse. when your mouth is full of his cum, he asks you to tell you whose doll you are. you shake your head, knowing you're going to make a mess if you try to talk. "go on. don't make me ask you again." wonwoo's voice is low, rumbling like thunder as he stares down into your eyes.

"y- yours!" you say as carefully as you can, and yet so much of the cum spills down your chin onto your breasts, where wonwoo licks it clean off you. "so pretty, but so messy. do you want a break now, doll?"

"no. please- no." wonwoo coos at you, as his hand strays down to your pussy and he feels the way your panties have turned transculent with how turned on you are. "come onto my lap, doll."

that night, you skip dinner. the next day, you take breaks in between sex to eat on a single pizza you ordered for lunch. you've fucked on every damn surface in your apartment- from the kitchen counter to your bathroom floor, from the balcony to the guest bedroom, from the loveseat underneath the window to the dining table. and yet, you can't keep yourself away from this man, and wonwoo, surprisingly, doesn't want to leave either.

until he does.

"darling, i'm going to have to leave in the morning" you're spent, lying on the bed, heaving in breaths to calm your racing heart after an excrutiatingly long session of spanking and edging. "you do?" you turn around on your elbows to look at him, and he pulls you over his chest, resting your head on this pecs. "i do. i have shooting tomorrow. would you mind if i came back in the evening? or you could come to m-" "wonwoo. can we slow down?" he stops talking for a second. you stare at him, trying to read his face.

you see wonwoo think for a long moment. finally, you raise your eyebrows and ask him again, "well?" "we could but... i can't do slow with you, doll. you're driving me crazy."

there. he's taken your breath away again.

he flips you over, his tongue already licking the valley between your breasts. you shiver all over, his hands roam your skin to calm you down. "i want you so bad, you have no idea." oh, you think you do. jeon wonwoo's been in your apartment for four days straight- when he has a perfectly beautiful mansion waiting for him. he's gone without decent food. gone without working out, gone without any of his makeup or skincare, gone without picking any work calls. you know he must want you bad enough to completely forget about his work life to come spend these days with you, rutting in your bed for hours and hours.

but a candle that burns fast dies out quickly.

you cradle wonwoo's face in your hands, pulling him away from your breasts. "let's get some sleep, hmm? you have work tomorrow."

_

wonwoo is gone before you even wake up. your mouth is filled with a bitter taste as you recall how mindlessly you've spent the last week- on the yacht and now at your house. you check your emails. no callbacks or offers from the auditions you've given in the past month. it's disheartening, but nothing new. every aspiring artists suffers the same struggles. but to be honest, you'd rather choose this over taking up a different, safer profession, as your parents would call it. you can't imagine not doing acting- it's the one thing which has reciprocated your love for it through your life. well, you hope that once the film reaches more people, you can secure some role through future auditions. till then, you text the local theatre troupe you're a part of, and inform them that you'll be free for their next performance.

wonwoo calls you when it's already dark outside. "my car's outside. think you can come over for the night?" you want to say no. you want to restrict the attraction- because you know you're falling for someone for whom everyone falls, and he'll never take this seriously, whatever this is. but you're a moth drawn to a flame, ready to burn till the last moment.

"yes, i'll come down in ten minutes."

wonwoo's not in the car. his chauffeur takes you to his mansion, and you find him sitting in the lawn, smoking a cigarette. as soon as he sees you, he calls out to you. "y/n! you're finally here." he runs over to meet you halfway and picks you up in his arms. "what's this behaviour, wonwoo?" you're flustered as hell, a giggling mess in his arms. "i missed you too much. how was your day today?" wonwoo sits down on the exquisite-looking chaise in the middle of the lawn. you notice that there's no one else around, except nature and the moonlight. wonwoo pulls you into his lap, and you smile at the way his hands roam through your body. "just like any other day. didn't get any emails, did yoga and ate fruits because i need to diet." "you don't. whoever told you that?" you laugh. "your stylist, actually. she says i need a better figure to get more roles." wonwoo nose scrunches, and his fingers slip under your t-shirt to touch your skin. "i'm going to change my stylist." and then he kisses your neck when you laugh out loud, pushing your neck further to give him better access and you arch out your body to feel as much of him as you can.

the next morning, you wake up much after the sun's already overhead. wonwoo's still asleep next to you, his hair splayed out across the pillow, his face down on his pillow. he has a leg over your body, but you carefully escape and get out of bed.

there's a new mail in your inbox.

"fuck!" you shout out when you see the contents of the mail, not realising that wonwoo's still sleeping. he wakes up instantly and peers at you. "don't scream if i'm not making you scream, love. what's up?" his voice is broken but inviting, and you jump into the bed next to him. "i just got an offer to model for a brand!" wonwoo gasps, sitting up and wearing his glasses. "that's amazing, y/n!" "i know right! i've never modelled before- oh i really need to get on that diet now-" "babe. babe, no. you look perfect. you have no need to diet forcefully. they'll take you as you are, otherwise they don't deserve you." wonwoo pulls you into a hug, his bare skin so warm and soft, and you melt into his touch. after he holds you for many long minutes, you whisper to him so softly, he may not even hear it. "thank you, wonwoo." his gaze is soft when he looks at you, "let me show you how perfect you are."

and wonwoo takes you to his walk-in closet, where an entire wall is covered with mirrors. when the two of you are facing the mirror, he begins kissing your neck from behind you, peeling off your layers. "keep your eyes on yourself, doll. see how perfect you are." and he shows you. he gets on the floor, hooking one leg on his shoulder, as he eats you out. then he pushes you on the closed closet behind you, and fucks you while you hold on to it for dear life. the position makes your legs ache, but the mirror's visual of wonwoo's broad back and his thrusting into you, the way his dark mop of hair shakes when he grabs your breasts and sucks them, and the way his hands leave red marks on your hips with how hard he's holding you, leaves you feeling too aroused and dirty to ask him to take this somewhere else.

_

you almost move in to wonwoo's house over the next month, with how much time you spend with him. he brings over your clothes and other belongings to his house, he drives you around everywhere, and he makes love to you like a touch-starved man every night. and you love it. you love the feeling of having wonwoo all to yourself. even when there are hundreds of other people waiting for him, craving for his touch, you have the power to make wonwoo fall to his knees for you, and it makes you high. you're on top of the world, and you fail to see who's put you there.

your career also radically takes off- must be the after effect of the film. you get several modelling offers, advertisements and even a magazine cover featuring actors who've originated from roots in theatre. but the real kill is when your application to the audition for a role at one of the most anticipated tv shows of the next year gets accepted. wonwoo smothers you with sweet kisses when you tell him the news, and although you haven't labelled anything, it starts to feel too domestic for you to think he's no longer serious about you. for he often texts you as wife, takes you out to secret dates where you're kissing in alleys, and eats dinner with you every night. he makes you feel so good, you can't be bothered to worry about anything.

you know wonwoo's at his shooting spot when you arrive at the hall where the film audition's taking place. so you're incredibly surprised to see that he's sitting right next to the director of the film on the audition panel. "what are you doing here?" you text him as you wait for your turn to audition. "nothing- just a favour for an old friend. don't worry, babe. i won't be judging. i won't even be saying a word." he texts you back. you look up at him from your spot in the wings, and you smirk when your eyes meet his. he winks at you, and in spite of all the distance, your heart flutters.

you pass the audition. you're also offered a role promotion- from the side chick of the villain, you're now the male lead's second love interest. "no surprise, babe. you did so well," wonwoo tells you later when he's kissing you in the back of the car. "how can you say that! the others were so good. i was literally so nervous!" he pulls away from the spot he's been biting hickeys into on your neck, and laughs. "you've gotta work on your confidence, babe. but not on your talent. no one there was better than you, and you should know it."

_

wonwoo finishes filming for his project by the end of the next month. he insists you accompany him to the pre-release party- which is frankly a little shocking.

"are you sure you want to be seen with me?" you ask him from the corner of the bed, and wonwoo kneels before you, tying the strings of your heels. "are you serious right now? god, what happened to all those discussions about confidence?" you sigh, pouting as he looks up at you. "i don't know. what if your fans don't like me? you know how fans can be." wonwoo laughs. "no, i don't." you roll your eyes, "that's because you've never-" been seen publicly with someone you're dating, you want to say. but your words trail off when you realise wonwoo's never really said he's dating you. you might be friends with benefits in his mind, even though he calls you love and babe.

he finishes tying up your heels and looks at you. "hmm?" "what i mean is that- i'm a nobody, wonwoo. i don't want your image to be affected because me." he laughs, "you're not nobody. you're y/n. and you don't have to worry about me. nothing you do can affect my public image.

wonwoo's words act like a shot of confidence injected into your bloodstream, and you hold your head up high when you get out of the car, expecting wonwoo to join you from the other side of the car.

he doesn't.

he immediately moves on to where his co-stars are standing, flashing dazzling smiles to the press waiting for him. it's an understandable move, but it makes you feel very disoriented for a second as you get a grip on yourself. you're not nobody. not a single camera flashes to capture you. you're not nobody. not a single head turns to look at you. you're not nobody. you're a wallflower again, back where wonwoo found you six months ago. nothing's changed. you are nobody.

after a few drinks and some small talk with people you see, you escape to take a break in the bathroom. you're just about to get out after taking a few minutes to recover, when you find wonwoo standing right outside. "wonwoo?" "let me in, babe." you're confused but he smiles and slowly comes in. "what's wr-" he doesn't respond, he pushes you against the tiled wall and kisses you. "i miss you, that's all." and with a few touches, he makes you forget all doubts in your mind. almost. "you look so good tonight, left me with a boner all evening." "no one asked you to be away from me." you whisper in between moans as his hands spread the slit of your dress and find your clothed pussy. "shhh. don't be a brat now, doll. think you'll let me fuck your mouth quickly? darling, don't refuse me now. i'll make it up to you when we get home. i can't possibly walk around with this boner all night." he makes sure not to leave hickeys on your neck, but the way he's touching you makes you weak. "yes, fuck. please, wonwoo."

so you get on your knees in the bathroom of this five-star hotel's hall, your knees cold against the tile, and take out wonwoo's thick red cock from his pants. it is painfully hard, and you take it in one go, your mouth used to the stretch by now. it takes you less than five minutes to get him to cum, thankfully he finishes in the washbasin and not in your mouth. when the redness of his eyes have subsided from the orgasm, he kisses your cheek, whispering good girl to you, and leaves you. your throat is raw, your underwear uncomfortable and your skin cold. but you're sure no one will notice even if your lipstick's ruined.

_

you hand wonwoo your phone, showing him a few screenshots open. there's conversations happening on social media about your upcoming film, but it's not good publicity. there's apparently a chat that's been leaked, claiming that you got the role only because you're sleeping with wonwoo.

"is it true?"

wonwoo takes a glance at your phone, before returning to the game he's playing on his laptop. "of course not, babe."

"what about the chat?"

"you know how rumours start."

"wonwoo, look at me and reply."

"one second. i need to finish this round."

"wonwoo!" he finally looks at you. "what?" "tell me the truth. look into my eyes and tell me the truth." "i told you already. it's all false." "wonwoo, i would rather not get roles than get it through you."

he laughs. "really? someone's grown up with a lot of morals, i see."

"i'm serious."

the expression on his face morphs from one of mirth to a serious look you've never seen in real life, only in his film when he's seconds away from nabbing the villain. "are you? would you honestly rather be poor than successful with a little bit of help?"

your blood boils, and you stand up, moving away from him. "so you're admitting it?" your voice grows high pitched, but you're feeling unstable. "to what?" "fixing the audition?" wonwoo laughs again. "what about it? you dese-" "do not bullshit me, wonwoo. did you or did you not?" "y/n-" "why were you there that day? did you or did you not, wonwoo, i need to know!"

"i did." there's a look of amusement in his eyes, but it's not attractive at all. "i did because i could. because i don't want to date someone who's dirt poor and on the edges of the industry."

your breath stops in your throat. for a second you think you're going to choke and die, but then wonwoo reaches out and touches your cheeks. "i was just looking out for you, love." you stand frozen, numb against his touch. you can't look into his eyes, you fear the venom in their darkness.

"fuck you, jeon wonwoo."

his hand stops around your jaw. "what?"

"you can go get high on your power and fame. don't use me to boost your own ego." you finally look up at him. "fuck you."

wonwoo smirks.

"it'll sting for a bit. just like sex. it'll get really pleasant soon when the fruits start coming in. you're my smart doll, aren't you?"