#keep in mind i still have a Lot of things i wanna add to it. but that'll be for future updates!

[dionysianfreak]

@ickeoresteia thanks for your question ! I'm gonna add it on here for accessibility's sake.

the most available source that discusses this epithet is indeed the Suidas. at least, this is the source Theoi feels inclined to list as their main source on this topic.

Suidas s.v. Androgynos (trans. Suda On Line) (Byzantine Greek lexicon C10th A.D.) :

"Androgynos (androgynous) : [A word applied to] Dionysos, as one doing both active, male things and passive, female ones [in sexual intercourse].

Alternatively ‘effeminate’ (anandros), and hermaphroditic (hermaphroditos) [also men who have lost their virility including eunuchs]. Also [in the genitive plural, meaning those who are] weak and have the hearts of women."

I want to comment that "anandros" is put as an alternative way to say "effeminate". this term is also cited as occasionally derogatory by Liddell & Scott (1940) A Greek–English Lexicon. it denoted that when addressed towards a man, it can mean "cowardly, craving manhood". towards a woman, it can mean she is unmarried or without a husband. the latter is probably what some sources meant by "masculine women". it was frowned upon when women didn't fit into their societal role of being a wife.

however, this source overall sorta has an inherent Romans intolerance to it like dionysiandevotee was talking about. the Suidas is a Byzantine lexicon and we can see other places that references to effeminacy are laughed at. keep in mind, this is our main source for this epithet and the source is from the 10th century. it's possible it was a replication of an even earlier text, but that's never stopped anyone from tweaking some definitions.

Suidas s.v. Appapai (quoting Aristophanes, Frogs 57) :

"Appapai (Oh god!) : An expression of affirmation. For when Herakles asks [Dionysos] ‘Were you loved [physically] by a man?’, this is his response."

context for above, if you've never read the frogs, is essentially Dionysos comes to Herakles and speaks of a deep craving He's experiencing. Herakles asks "for a woman ?" which Dionysos denies, then "for a boy" is also denied, then Herakles says "ah, for a man !" to which Dionysos replies above. it changes based on translation but that's the gist. note the apparent need to separate a boy from a man.

Suidas s.v. Kybele :

"Kybele : Rhea. [So named] from the Kybela mountains . . . But he used the phrase ‘O [Kybele] mother of Kleokritos’ . . . He treated him comically as a gay (kindaidos) and a foreigner and of low birth and the son of Kybele because effeminates are present in the mysteries of Rhea . . . Therefore the proverb was said of gays (kindaidoi)." [N.B. Dionysos was also nursed by Kybele, and so was also effeminate]

both of these have a weird edge to them when discussing effeminacy. the last description even uses an ancient kind of "slur" (Kindaidos) that was used against homosexuals. this word denoted their "feminine" position during sex and how shameful it is to like being there. I've seen people claim that it comes from κινώ" (move) and αιδώς (shame) but I don't speak ancient Greek so I can't back this part up. αιδώς connects to Aidos, daimon/minor goddess that personifies modesty, shame, and reverence. I say all of this for context that "lying as a woman while having sex with a man" had a lot deeper meaning then.

so, this word was used towards effeminate men but being effeminate was only positive if you were a very young and very beautiful man. even then, that glory is temporary and societial—gods forbid you actually craved the love of another man.

I wanna make it clear that I love the modern usage of the epithet as well, and Dionysos is a trans/queer deity as clearly as day in my mind. I have never used it personally because Dionysos's trans-ness is inherent to me and I don't find it necessary to call upon it specifically.

this epithet is modernly powerful when recognizing that governments have attempted to erase and slander trans/queer people and yet we're still here, singing praises.

I have been seeing some posts for Dionysos Androgynos popping up lately with lovely prayers and offerings ! this is wonderful, but it makes me want to clarify something. His epithet Androgynos is not related to gender identity as we know it now nor was it used in worship denoting queerness. I have seen people talking about this epithet being worshiped but there isn't much tangible evidence for that (that I know of).

it generally means "man-woman" and it refers to the position a man takes during sex—"both taking and receiving penetration during sex". being a man who was in the woman's role during sex wasn't a flex back then, they were seen as naive and lesser than the older man on top. I've seen suggestions that this epithet (along with "chickpea Dionysos") may have been used more derogatorily.

Dionysos is a wonderfully queer deity in the modern age, but we have to remember Ancient Greece is an entirely different culture and ideas. we can't directly exchange values with a culture 2,000 years removed from us. It's totally fine to reclaim this epithet, but claiming it is historically a trans epithet is incorrect.

[nitw]

might release sts siffrin mod today if i can finish up the last character art.....?!?!?!

[arachine]

dry humping w josh. you’ve got bruises in your hips from how hard he moves you back and forth ah hell

cw: like 10% dry humping, fingering, mean-ish!josh (barely), mischaracterization (maybe, trial's still out), litch took creative liberty sorry girlfriend

when you're fucking around with josh, it's always either slow and drawn out, or intoxicatingly heavy and feral. very rarely does he leave bruises on your body—only ever does it upon request or when he's so blind with pleasure that the only thing at the forefront of his mind is getting closer to you. and it's usually the latter.

sometimes he wishes he could devour you. consume you whole so that nobody could ever have you. and he supposes that since he can't quite do that—this is the next best thing. when he's got you like this, sat on his cock, pressing you down, down, down, like a piece of clay waiting to be molded. kneaded. made pliable.

and it's always too much. the pleasure. the way he forces you to stay down against him, mercilessly rutting up into you, long after you've already gone limp in his arms.

"oh, c'mon," he drawls, tone teasing, "not giving up on me now, are ya?"

"'s t-too much," you all but cry, "can't take it!"

"both know that's not true," he laughs, temporarily pausing his movements. swiftly, he slips his hand past the waistband of your shorts. slides a finger over your slit once, twice, before burying it inside to the hilt.

there's a cocky grin plastered over his face that you can't see but hear. "i've seen this pretty pussy take on a lot more," he whispers into your ear. the next time he speaks, he adds another. uses the pad of his fingers to rub up against the smooth velvet of your walls, curling and uncurling them in a manner so cruel, that it has you clutching his shoulders for stability.

you're getting closer and closer to another release, and you're almost there until he withdraws his hand from your pants unceremoniously. confusion settles between your brows.

"why...why'd you stop?" you query, panting from the loss of friction. he sits there with a sly smirk, amused by your visible frustration before opening his mouth to say, "said it was 'too much', right? think we should just stop there..."

"i can..." your words are barely just above a whisper, and josh takes advantage of this.

"what was that? don't think i caught it."

"i can do it," you affirm, placing your hands back onto his shoulders for leverage, "wanna keep going." hesitantly, you resume your movements. you start with a slow, methodical roll of your hips, gradually increasing speed along with pressure—the way he likes it.

"atta girl," he praises, leaning back into the cushion of the sofa, "now show me how you get off."

[k1mbe3rly]

Haii I'm back with another request I'm sorry If I'm getting annoyingg 😔 anyway maybe Jun-hee (222) sucking f!Reader's tits to releave her stress and fear?? you could also do f!reader fingering her too to help her ? Maybe also add Myung-gi walking on them by accident for extra drama??

i literally don’t mind, in fact keep requesting🙄i ABSOLUTELY love doing people’s request idc😩

Unexpected

warnings: Smut, WLW, titty sucking, fingering, dom! jun hee, public, caught, talkative reader, (she’s not pregnant here btw)

It was the mingle game, you were stressed as hell, that last round had you going crazy thinking you weren’t gonna be able to find someone and get a room on time, you were looking around for a partner but didn’t get one since you were lowkey frozen, luckily Jun hee managed to find you and drag you into one

“Holy shit- that was so fucking awesome! how did you get the speed for that, i mean i really thought i was gonna die!” you said looking at Jun hee who was just staring at you, you stared back for a moment, “..I mean thank you i guess like whatever” you said catching your breath still a bit stressed out and afraid, she chuckled and just shaked her head “You sure do talk a lot you know.” She said

You nervously chuckled, “Yea i tend to start blabbing in nervous moments like these, guess i’m scared or something” you said messing with your hair a bit, She smirked at you a bit “I can help with that you know” she said, you looked at her in confusion but before anything could happen you heard the game voice go on “Game over.”, the doors unlocked as i opened it and followed everyone back to the bed

You were walking next to Jun hee, “Ah god! that was so nerve wracking like i’m so serious.. that had me trembling in my boots you know!” you said to her, she just nodded and listened “I mean i seriously thought i was gonna die but you were like boom and i was like woah! oo that gave me the chills right!” you spoke again, she nodded her head again as you went to your bed, she followed you simply as she just continued listening to you.

“You ever wonder what goes thru those red guards mind when they shoot people? i mean they gotta be mentally ill to just kill people just like that like bang!” you said to her making little gun fingers, “Do you go quiet when your not scared? or stressed whatever you are right now” she said looking at you, “i mean.. i guess why?” you spoke up in confusion, “cause i want you to be quiet” she said without hesitation, you were lowkey offended “Make me.” you said, She raised an eyebrow at you and scooted closer, She quickly zipped down your jacket “Woah- what the hell are you doing-?” you said to her but not stopping her

“Every time you talk it makes me wanna do things.” She said lifting your shirt a bit, your breath hitched as you watched her, she lifted it up good enough to see your bra, she quickly took your boobs out of your bra like nothing, squished together, she than admired then for a moment than wrapped her tongue around your nipple, you let out a breathless moan, she continued flicking her tongue and eventually took whatever she could in her mouth, mouth popping as she sucked on one boob and she traveled her hand to your other and rubbed her finger over your nipple.

“I- i thought you were straight? don’t you have a boyfriend?” you manged to say out, she stopped for a moment “Ex boyfriend.” she said before going to the other boob and sucking on that one, the cold breeze hitting the wetness of the one she stopped sucking on

“What- so your like ah! your like a lesbian now?” you spoke again, your hands on the mattress leaning back a bit, she stopped again in a bit of annoyance that you kept talking “I don’t know, just kinda wanted to try this i guess” after she spoke she immediately went back to your boobs groping and sucking on them.

“Wait so like-” you spoke again.

She quickly shoved her hand into your pants and down your panties, you gasped out at the sudden movement, “You don’t wanna shut up? than i’ll make you shut up. let’s see if you can still talk with you moaning” she said shoving 2 fingers inside your pussy, you quickly moaned out as she sucked on your boobs while fingering you, it was starting to overstimulate you as you threw your head back moaning softly but not too loud since people are too busy in the bathrooms or soemthing, besides your not even alone.

She fingered you even faster as she stopped sucking on your tit and focused on her fingers getting clenched by your pussy, you moaned out again gasping as you felt a knot in your tummy, “w-wai- i think i’m gonna cum~!” you managed to let out as she went a bit faster, you gasped loudly as you came around her fingers, she slowed her fingers as she pull them out of you and out of your pants, she looked at her fingers which were covered in cum

She chuckled a bit as you licked her fingers a bit, “Mm.. you actually taste good” she muttered, “Wanna taste yourself?” she said moving her fingers to your mouth, you shaked your head “uh.. no thank you..” you said a bit grossed out and making a small face. “What the actual fuck.” You heard another voice as you looked over to see player 333, Jun hee’s ex boyfriend.

[puck-luck]

hi qween, could i request mocha with qh43, whipped cream = established relationship, and cold foam 💗💕💞💗💗💞 happy 1 year i love your writing :3

hi!! thank u for requesting!! since you didn't specify what you wanted with the cold foam, i used this kink prompt generator to determine the wild card.... which was sexting!

so, warnings (1.2K): sexting, slight angst (they're fighting, the mocha part is that they're making up here), mentions of ass-eating, no actual sex but lots of allusions to it, puns and double entendres about cooking/sex, quinn is persistent and dorky and stupid and i love him, reader is doing her best to not fall for his goon-ness <3

Things have not been good between you and Quinn lately. It wasn’t by any fault of yours, or of Quinn’s, but you haven’t had sex in weeks. You’ve barely seen each other with Quinn’s schedule and your work. It’s been driving both of you crazy, and you’re both stressed in your own jobs, and it hasn’t been manifesting well. 

Quinn left his sneakers in the middle of the hallway one day and you tripped over them while carrying a fuck ton of groceries inside. That had started a big fight, which hadn’t been resolved, and you’re still upset whenever you see something out of place… like the toothpaste this morning, left on the bathroom counter capless. The cap was next to the tube. How hard is it to screw the cap back on the tube when you’re done brushing your teeth?

You’d lost track of time and been late to picking Quinn up after a roadie one night, which sparked a fight on his end. That also hadn’t been resolved entirely. You know Quinn is still holding it against you because he’s driven himself to the arena every single time since you were late, insisting that he’ll just take himself so he doesn’t have to worry or wait. 

So there’s been tension lingering in the air of the apartment ever since. You’re sure that when you and Quinn have more time, you’ll be able to talk about it. The hockey season is almost over and the presentation you’re working on at work is almost due, so you both will be free in a couple of weeks. The light at the end of the tunnel is growing brighter and drawing nearer.

Quinn is at home tonight, which is nice most of the time. Over the last two years that you’ve been together, it’s rare for you and Quinn to avoid each other. Today, though, you’re staying away from each other. You’re both still upset and holding a grudge.

Quinn sits on the couch flipping through a book. You worked on your computer at the dining room table and now you’re on your lunch break, chopping up stalks of celery to toss into the pot of soup you’re brewing.

As you turn and make your way around the island in the kitchen, you can feel Quinn’s eyes roaming over your skin. You pay him absolutely no mind, keeping your head down and returning to the cutting board to chop up a few carrots.

Your phone buzzes a minute later. 

I’m starving

The text pops up from your lovely, annoying boyfriend and strikes a chord within you. Does he expect you to be cooking for him? The pot of soup is big enough for four people at least, but Quinn didn’t ask you. He just said he’s starving and expects you to do something about it. He’s a big boy; he can make his own meal. You let your screen fade to black without replying.

Another buzz:

But not for food ;)

Unimpressed, you raise your gaze to Quinn on the couch. He’s watching you with a barely-suppressed, smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You shoot him a glare, letting him know that you’re not budging, and go back to chopping a carrot into tiny pieces. 

Whereas you were unimpressed, Quinn is undeterred. 

Buzz.

Baby your cooking smells so good, it’s making me crave YOU… wanna add something sexy to that savory?

You squint at the text and return to your carrots, scooping them off of the cutting board and dumping them into the broth.

Buzz.

Cooking looks good on you. Making you moan is even better. Come and let me season you up properly ;)

You pick up your phone and face Quinn, staring him in the face as you shut it down entirely. You place the phone on the counter out of reach and go back to stir the pot. There’s shredded chicken and veggies in this pot, plus some spiral noodles that have been thoroughly cooked in the simmering broth.

He clears his throat behind you and starts to speak. “Hey, babe, I thought I’d give you a call since you hadn’t replied to my texts. Your hands must be full since you didn’t answer, so I hope this voicemail will be fun for you.”

You take a deep breath and press your lips together, closing your eyes. He is such a fucking dork.

“Hm, what am I up to?” Quinn fake-ponders aloud. “Nothing much, just sitting on the couch, rock-hard, and thinking about bending you over the stove.”

Your nostrils flare and you halt your movements. 

“I’m going to need you to turn off the stove and turn me on, though. I’m dying for a sample of your other delicious skills.”

You’re at your wit’s end, about to break your silence. You’re not sure whether you’re going to tell Quinn to shut up or if you’re going to fall for his silly sexting-turned-voicemail, but you’re almost at the point of saying something. 

You can hear Quinn holding back a laugh. “You look so hot stirring that pot, beautiful. Wish it was your ass I was stirring instead. Lemme grab a bite, yeah?”

You scoff, surprised and amused by his pick-up line. “I am not letting you eat my ass, Quintin.”

He chuckles and stands from the couch, his feet padding over the wooden floor of his apartment as he enters the kitchen. “Okay, not your ass. We can still skip the utensils and I’ll put my tongue on something else. I promise I’ll be thorough.” His reflection in the microwave shows you that he’s still talking into the phone. He’s close enough to touch now and he makes a point to splay his fingers over your hip, standing with his crotch pressed against your behind. “Can I serve you something hot and hard, baby?”

His breath washes over your neck, followed shortly by the scratch of his scruff as he kisses the curve of your shoulder. Instinctively, you bare the skin to him. 

Quinn drops the call and places his other hand on your other hip, holding you steady as he rolls his hips against your bottom. He kisses your jaw, then your cheek. “‘m sorry I haven’t been very happy lately. Things are tense. I don’t want them to be.”

“It’s just a difficult time right now,” you reply softly. “I’m stressed and every tiny thing that goes wrong gets on my nerves and makes it worse.”

Quinn takes the spoon from your hand and turns off the stove, moving the pot to the backburner and off the heat. “You get an hour for lunch?”

“About forty-five left.”

“I only need fifteen.”

You laugh. “It’s been long enough that I think you could do it in less.”

“Ouch, you’re making fun of my stamina?” Quinn pouts. “I’ll show you, baby. I’m a machine.”

You release a breath of a laugh, relaxing into Quinn’s touch. “Is sexting your new way of initiating?”

“Only when you’re mad at me. It’s cheesy enough that it’ll diffuse the tension, right? Did you like my lines?” Quinn asks, seeking your approval. One of his hands is unbuttoning your blouse, the one you threw on to look professional in your video meeting this morning.

“I liked that you were trying,” you confirm. “But you’re still not going to eat my ass.”

Quinn steers you toward the bedroom. “I’m perfectly content eating your pussy, baby. You’re my main course.” He scoops you up bridal-style and carries you across the apartment. Once you enter the bedroom, he tosses you onto the bed and grins at you. “Alright, spread ‘em. Gotta lick my plate clean.”

[writesvani]

coming down | teaser

collegestudent! gojo x collegestudent! reader

SUMMARY: You and Gojo Satoru were once everything to each other, but now, the space between you is filled with nothing but silence and resentment. College is just a reminder of how far you’ve drifted apart, and every encounter only adds fuel to the fire.

You avoid him like the plague, but it doesn’t matter. You can still feel him in the shadows, always there, always watching, as if the past was never really gone. So what do you do? You (try to) keep your distance, pretending it’s easy to forget the history that’s weighed you down for so long.

But deep down, neither of you can let go. And as the tension between you grows, you’re forced to confront the truth: some things are never truly buried, no matter how hard you try.

best friends-to-friends with benefits-to-enemies-to- enemies with benefits-to?

TWs (for this chapter): underage use of marijuana and cigars, underage drinking, use of illegal substances, anorexia and obsessive dieting, calorie deficit, mentions of self-destructive behavior, angst, emotional manipulation and trauma, toxic friendship dynamics, self-esteem issues and body image, unresolved romantic tension, past betrayal and unrequited love, sexual harassment (implied in some interactions), foul language and explicit content, derogatory language, including use of "puss" and other insults, toxic romantic relationships and behavior, references to manipulation and control in relationships, most characters are morally gray, flawed, and engage in problematic behavior, complex, imperfect characters who make questionable decisions, characters often act in ways that challenge traditional moral boundaries and ethics. 

THESE CHARACTERS ARE NOT MEANT TO BE PERFECT AND IDOLIZED.

comment here for Coming Down taglist;

SERIES M.LIST

— next chapter

wc: 2,4k // date: 4th of March 2025

TEASER — Wicked Games; proceed with caution...

AN: OKAY OKAY OKAY WOW HERE SHE IS. i don’t know what the hell I’m writing - i mean i do but i don’t if that makes sense - this, this fanfic is literally gonna be my baby. it’s inspired by a lot of people i know, it’s partly inspired by my life as well - not gonna tell you which bits of it tho haha. but i’m so excited. honestly this isn’t even chapter one - i’m thinking more of it as a teaser for what’s about to come and when i tell you a lot is coming you better believe it. but this is going to be a part of me - something raw and something real and i know this won’t be an easy read - as you can see by the triggers but i truly, really hope you guys will like it as much as I enjoy writing it. because i’m obsessed. i just got sucked in by y/n and gojo’s dynamic of hatred and toxicity, they’re on my mind 24/7.

i love them.

i hate them.

i wanna be them and i’d hate it if i ended up becoming them at the same time.

love, vani 🩷

"No, I’m not going."

"Yes, you totally are."

"No, I’m not, Yumi. I’m dead serious."

"Y/n, for the love of Christ, I love you, but if you don’t stop bitching about it right now, there will be consequences. Now, get your ass up and get ready," Yumi huffed, arms crossed.

You narrowed your eyes before rolling them—more dramatically than you intended. Not your most mature moment, but being forced to go to that party, in that house, didn’t exactly put you in a good mood.

"Look, Yu, I don’t care about that stupid party your—what’s his name again?—boyfriend is throwing for us. Truthfully, I’d rather be buried alive in that creepy graveyard we smoke pot in. Alone. No pot. You get my point."

"His name is Nanami," she deadpanned. "And he’s throwing us a party for our birthday, which we share. It’s not like I have the option to skip it, you know. Besides, we always celebrate our birthday together."

Yumi’s voice softened as she tilted her head, giving you that look—the one she knew you couldn’t resist. "Please, please, please. Let’s just go, smoke some weed, listen to those weird-ass tunes you play when you get too baked, wait for midnight, blow out the candles, and leave. Bonus points if Nanami fucks me tonight."

She smirked before adding, "Plus, Gojo’s gonna be there, and everyone knows about your little crush on him."

You scowled. As if that could make this stupid party any better.

But again… she wasn’t wrong.

Somehow, in the middle of a crowded classroom filled with acne-scarred faces and nervous energy, you and Yumi ended up sitting together. two total strangers. two tangled-up disasters shoved into plastic chairs, thrown together by sheer chance or some kind of cosmic joke.

She was tall and slim, chain-smoking weird American cigars in the school’s piss-scented bathroom stalls during five-minute breaks.

You liked her immediately.

She liked cigs.

You liked pot.

She liked Arctic Monkeys or any other type of music that ended up overplayed by overdramatic tumblr girls at midnight.

You listened to Trilogy like it was gospel.

She didn’t give a shit about school. Skipped class constantly to drink cheap coffee at some run-down café that reeked of nargila and regret.

You somehow pulled good grades—yet skipped with her anyway, so she wouldn’t feel lonely.

And then, the kicker.

You shared the same birthday.

Same day. Same year. Two hours apart. What were the odds? Some kind of cruel cosmic irony, maybe. A glitch in the universe where it spat out two unhinged messes at the same time, doomed to find each other.

You weren’t sure.

All you knew was that Yumi was fucked up.

She didn’t eat. Didn’t sleep. Just smoked.

Cigs and all.

Pot and all.

You, on the other hand, slept too much. Ate just enough—tracking every bite to make sure it fit inside your carefully calculated calorie deficit, of course.

And yeah, you were fucked up too.

But at least you weren’t alone.

You were fucked up together, and somehow, that made perfect sense.

And now, after years of being two walking disasters—two mistakes of nature (and probably your parents' biggest regrets)—you are finally in college.

What you didn’t expect was Yumi getting a boyfriend. And sticking to him. Yumi didn’t do relationships. they were too much, she once told you.

Too heavy.

You understood. Why let anyone waste their time trying to fix something that wasn’t fixable? Why let anyone peel back the layers when there was nothing to find? no deep-seated trauma, no unspeakable tragedy, no emotional constipation. just plain, old you—coasting through life on gold marlboro touch and iceberg salad.

You assumed Yumi felt the same. you used to get each other.

But now? Yumi had a boyfriend. And not just any boyfriend—some weirdly handsome senior that got every girl on campus tripping over themselves. A guy who, for some unknown reason, had decided to settle down with the second-year that half the school had definitely jacked off to.

And you?

You were still there, of course.

“You know what? Fine,” you finally huffed, shoving your hands in your pockets. “We’re going. But—” you held up a finger, “The shit he’s getting better be good or i’m out. And—” another finger, “Btw, how is The Weeknd ‘weird girl’ music? The best music to get high is literally from an artist who made it while high. like, really?”

Yumi just raised an eyebrow, already knowing she’d won.

“And—” your third and final finger shot up—“One condition. No Gojo. Np looking at him, no talking about him, and god forbid, talking to him, okay?”

Yumi grinned like the little devil she was. She knew she had you.

And she loved it.

You’re going. and somehow, somehow, you already know Yumi’s going to break the Gojo rule. And you already hate yourself for saying yes.

Gojo, Gojo, Gojo. That foxy, smirking little minx you’ve somehow tucked away in a small, stupid pocket of your heart. Nanami's best friend.

Stupid hot and wicked smart.

One look from Gojo Satoru and half the campus is already on their knees, mouths open, waiting for the tip to slide in. one touch, and you’re pretty sure girls would be cumming fully clothed.

Truthfully? You get it.

Gojo has that whole walking sexual fantasy turned nonchalant icy prince thing going for him. you would’ve hitched your skirt up and let him fuck you senseless too—if he asked.

Would’ve.

But Gojo Satoru did something no other man had ever dared to do.

He bruised your ego.

You’d never admit it, of course. Not out loud. Not even to yourself. But the way his offhanded you’re not my type had clutched at your chest, had sunk deep into the tenderest, most pathetic part of you—yeah. It stung.

Who the hell was he to say you weren’t his type?

Yes, fine, he was hot. really, really hot.

But so were you.

You’ve got that thing going for you—the great student, everyone loves me act, while secretly (well, not so secretly, except to your oblivious teachers) getting high and fucking emotionally unavailable men on the weekends.

Your favorite trope, honestly.

You’ve got those pretty—as guys love to say—puppy eyes and that lethal eyelashes combo that makes people practically eat from the palm of your hand.

So why the hell would he say you weren’t his type?

For fuck’s sake, Gojo Satoru fucks anything with two legs and a vagina.

And the cherry on top? He didn't even say it to your face. No, he just let those humiliating little words slip at some party you weren’t even at.

Thank god for that. You’re pretty sure you would’ve died right then and there if you had to hear those ridiculous words fall from his pretty pink lips in real time.

But of course, Yumi—your second-in-command, your ever-dutiful bringer of bad news—had called you immediately.

Campus sex god gojo satoru, not finding you attractive enough?

The scandal.

To make things even worse, you’re pretty sure everyone knows you’d totally give it to Gojo Satoru.

You may have drunkenly admitted it—once, before the whole “not his type” fiasco—to some random girl in a club bathroom who smelled way too much like puke and way too little like vanilla.

And of course, of fucking course, the gossip spread through campus like wildfire before you could even try to kill it.

So yeah. going to your own birthday party?

Humiliating.

Annoying.

Absolutely a horrible idea.

But still… there’s this slow burn inside of you, this creeping anticipation.

The kind that tells you tonight might just be interesting.

And a little drama never hurt anyone, right?

…Right?

—

Nanami's house is not what you expected.

You don’t even know what you expected, but definitely not this.

Yumi did mention he doesn’t live on campus—he’s one of those guys, apparently. Still lives with his parents or something.

Lame. Booo. Throwing tomatoes.

Because seriously—what twenty-something man still lives with his parents?

But you definitely didn’t expect nanami’s house to be this posh.

Or this proper.

Or this… fucking expensive.

Because, what the actual fuck—nanami is rich.

Like, could-buy-you-off-the-dark-web rich.

Probably in exchange for the mahogany table you’re currently pouring tequila shots on.

Or maybe just for that obnoxiously huge, icy couch stretching across the living room.

or, hell, even for his kitchen alone.

What. The. Fuck.

But then—on that same absurdly expensive couch—something else catches your eye.

Legs sprawled out in the kind of lazy man-spread that screams confidence, scrolling through his phone like he owns the place, is a man.

Dark.

Tall.

And very, very hot.

Something dark and thrilling rushes through you at the thought of dragging him into Nanami’s parents’ bedroom and riding him until he can’t take it anymore.

But before you can act on it—

“Geto Suguru.”

Yumi’s voice is in your ear, a warning.

“He has a girlfriend, so don’t even try.”

Her fingers tug at your elbow. You retaliate immediately, poking her ribs in response.

He looks up.

His shadowy eyes roam over you—slow, deliberate.

A half-smile, half-smirk tugs at his lips.

Ha.

There he is.

Good boy.

He wants it.

He wants you.

"Well, I don’t see her here, do I?"

Your voice is a whisper, teasing, as you throw a smirk at Yumi before stepping forward—gracefully, leg before leg, closing the space between you and him.

He’s still sitting.

You don’t even have to look at his face to know he’s already watching you.

Slowly, your eyes travel downward.

The soft material of his white polo stretches taut over the sculpted lines of his stomach, the fabric clinging in all the right places. Your gaze lingers, just a second too long, before moving up—finally settling on his lips.

For a moment, there’s silence.

Then, just as the tension starts to settle, he shifts—fumbling with the left pocket of his jeans.

You blink.

…Okay.

Not so hot anymore.

What the hell is he doing?

But then—

but then—

he pulls something out.

A white tissue—crumpled, worn.

You almost scoff, about to ask if this is some weird, half-assed magic trick—until you see it.

Tiny specks of green peek through the folds.

Your breath catches.

Weed.

A lot of weed.

Holy fucking shit.

You swear your mouth waters.

It’s tucked inside that questionably old tissue—and you pray, dear God, that he didn’t blow his nose in it.

Then, in that slow, deep voice—smooth like velvet, laced with a promise—he finally speaks.

"Five grams. Homemade."

He speaks for the first time, and in that moment, you're absolutely sure you're about to get high off his pot—and then, well, he's going to be the one getting high off you.

"Heard you smoke. Thought you’d want to."

Geto’s voice is low, his words soft, but the way his arm brushes your hip bone—effortlessly, casually—sends a spark through your veins.

Some might say it’s a coincidence.

But you know better.

Nothing, nothing, is ever a coincidence when it comes to men like him.

And now, now, you want it even more.

Before you can say anything, someone else interrupts.

“Yo, Suguru, I’ve been watching you all night, man. Why the fuck you sitting in the living room like some NPC loser?”

You scoff, catching the teasing tone of the voice.

"Satoru, you’re stepping on my last nerve again. Let me chill for a bit. I wanna mentally prepare before rolling with all you incompetent losers," Geto responds, his voice still calm, but there's a hidden edge to it that makes you think he doesn't mind the banter.

"There, there, boy. I just missed my best friend so much I had to see why you left the billiard room, you know? Just love spending time with you, bestie."

"You know, licking my ass won’t make me give you some of this before I try it myself. Plus, I’ve got company, as you can see." Geto’s voice drips with annoyance, cutting through the otherwise tense air in Nanami’s living room.

You don’t need to turn around to know exactly who’s standing behind you. His presence is undeniable, his scent suffocating in the best way, and that energy—God, that energy—that pulses in any room he steps into.

And then, of course, there’s the voice. That annoyingly attractive, rough drawl that always gets under your skin.

“I can see that, but I still don’t approve of you ditching your homies for some cheap pussy,” Gojo says, the mockery clear in his voice.

And that’s when you finally, finally, decide to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

What the fuck?

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Sure, being told you weren’t his type stung—but this? Calling you cheap? Who the hell does this guy think he is? What gives him the audacity to insult you to your face—well, more like to your back, but still, it stings all the same.

A chuckle rumbles through the room. You don’t stop yourself in time. You hear your own voice, but it doesn’t feel like yours anymore.

How dare he. After everything—after all the hurt he’s caused you.

Again. And again.

You tell yourself it doesn’t bother you, yet the words slip out before you even realize what’s happening.

As if you could have stopped them. As if you could have ever stopped anything with him.

After all, Gojo Satoru always had a knack for pushing your buttons exactly the way he wanted.

“Cheap, but could make your dick hard by one high school kiss in your mom’s closet. Could make you whimper out my name in your favorite teacher’s classroom. Could make you cum down your uniform just by biting your lip. We’re a little past being cheap, don’t you think Sato?” 

Because before all of this—before the "not his type" catastrophe, and your drunken confessions—there was you.

And there was Gojo.

Best friends since birth. A bond that was never supposed to break. But then came senior year—the year everything changed.

You made a mistake. The terrible, stupid, earth-shattering mistake of letting things blur into something more. You slept together. Multiple times. You told yourself it was just a phase. Just a mistake. But deep down, you both knew it was more than that.

But no. There was an even worse mistake than all of this.

Falling in love.

And then, the biggest tragedy of all: letting each other down.

You weren’t supposed to end up here. But somehow, here you are. Caught in the wreckage of a love that never really had a chance.

[sabertoothwalrus]

heyy i adore your art! do you have any advce for a small artist trying to get out there?

I guess it depends what you mean by “get out there”!

I’d say number one is to ignore the numbers. Unless you’re intentionally trying to sell yourself to some app’s algorithm, obsessing over the numbers will not help you.

The thing is, it is ok to care about other feedback you get on your art. I often hear social media treated like a dichotomy, to either “ignore it completely and draw for yourself” or to “strive to be a famous viral artist”. And I’m saying it’s not that simple.

It all boils down to why you’re making art. For some people, art is a much more personal expression, and it’s not meant to be seen by others. It’s more about the process and the catharsis than the outcome. This kind of art doesn’t need to be shared with other people.

For others, it’s a living. These people don’t mind that their art becomes “marketable”, if it becomes generic with a mass-appeal. This kind of art isn’t here to send a message, it’s here to look pretty. And that’s ok.

For me, art is communication. I’m telling stories. This is why I’m most drawn to comics and animation. I don’t pay attention to numbers, but I pay a lot of attention to comments because they help me gauge how successful I was at communicating an idea, an action, a joke, etc. It’s still important you develop thick skin. You have to detach yourself emotionally from them, and use them as a tool to help you learn.

This is why clarity is one of my biggest priorities in art. Clarity has less to do with skill and more to with “can you understand what this is you’re looking at”. There are some artists out there who are very good at what they do, but they still struggle with clarity. And the inverse is true; even beginner artists can have clear, easy to follow art.

Some things I actively try to do in my art to improve clarity:

Is the pose clear? Is the figure overlapping themself too much, or is the action still readable from the silhouette?

If there’s text, is it clear? Is the direction of speech bubbles confusing? Is my handwriting/font easy to read?

Would a background or prop help clarify the setting better? (What’s the least amount of effort I can put into this that will give the necessary information?)

Are my lines too loose? Sometimes it’s fine, but if they’re too unconnected, the form gets lost. Should I close my lines better, or maybe add a tone to separate the positive and negative space?

Does the “punchline” make sense? What AM I saying? What could communicate it stronger?

If your art is clear, people will find it and share it! Just keep telling the stories you wanna tell, make the art YOU want to see, and your audience will build around you!

[klonoadreams]

Now that everyone is awake and Malleus is jumpscaring Idia at the door, I just wanna yap about the fact that a lot of this really fucking adds up to why having severe abandonment issues spanning from WHILE IN THE EGG and then hatching is a serious issue and Lilia is not exempt from it either because he's been doing his god damn best, but there's still this distance he puts between him and Malleus WHEN YOU'RE HIS DAD TOO DAMMIT

Like the fucking dead dudes need to be exorcised, but Lilia, please, when you're teaching Malleus to cherish the transient lives of those around him with GaoGao, YOU HAVE TO ALSO EXPLAIN IT TO HIM.

Like it's a massive miscommunication that led to this situation because Malleus HATES being lonely. But also don't mind my AuDHD ass bringing up RSD cuz him reacting the way he did was that fucking feeling like someone was clawing your heart out at the idea that those closest to him were leaving him like that (abandoning him) WITHOUT HIM is peak rejection sensitive dysphoria doing its thing.

Legit, it's honestly sad, but this is very much the fucking Senate's fault overall, and I hope the consequences go entirely to them because Malleus is legit the equivalent of someone who just turned 18 and expected to be 100 percent mature, WHEN HE LITERALLY JUST TURNED 18 AND WILL BE LIKE THAT FOR A DAMN WHILE. It's like turning 18 in the states, but you're only legally an adult and can vote, but fuck if you can't drink nor do anything most other adults are capable of, like taxes, paying bills, and all that shit.

Throw in that elitist senate ripping a baby Malleus out of Lilia's arms, and then keeping the two away from each other, and you have the most horrifically stunted, traumatized person around who has yet to realize that there are better ways to cope.

Consequences be damned, I want Ace to talk some sense into Malleus and Lilia again like in endless halloween. GET THEIR ASS.

[honeytonedhottie]

CONFIDENCE⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🛍️

i've reached a point where my confidence genuinely cannot be shaken by anything, like all the shadow work and everything is rly paying off and having confidence makes everything in life so much better so i wanna talk about it 🍭

GAINING CONFIDENCE = GAINING SELF LOVE ;

to begin with, confidence is not gained over night and its something thats built and honed with time. so be patient with yourself! confidence always stems from self love.

self love is the most important thing ever. no matter what u have to know that ur gonna love yourself thru THICK and THIN. ur the only one with u 24/7.

make ur mind a palace, treat ur body like a temple, give urself the tender love and care that u DESERVE 🧁💕

GET COMFY IN UR OWN SKIN ; 

i feel like the most confident people are dancers. i feel this way cuz of the way my own confidence SKYROCKETED after i started dancing. i feel like dancing gives u a sense of control over ur own body and its just amazing.

whenever i feel like i need a little boost of confidence or i wanna feel sexy and good in my own skin i DANCE. and i promise that it helps so so much. i dance around in my room all the time and it’s like therapy. 

embarrassment does NOT exist, stop making urself feel awkward or embarrassed for making mistakes sometimes, learn to laugh and not take everything so seriously.

MENTAL DIET ; 

honestly in my experience, manifesting has played a huge role in my self confidence and my self concept. honestly, self concept work goes hand in hand with self confidence work.

keeping a strict mental diet has made my self concept untouchable so definitely get into that. so SAY UR AFFIRMATIONS, dont EVER bully yourself etc.

SAY NO ; 

something about a confident person, they can ADVOCATE for themselves and they know how to say no/im not comfortable with _. practice saying no more and being in control of ur time.

some words that u can add to ur vocabulary to be more confident and advocate for urself properly is "absolutely not" or simply NO. theres so much power in the word NO so make sure to use it more.

THE MUSIC ; 

the music that u listen to on a regular day to day basis rly have an impact on ur mind for either better or for worse depending on what ur listening to. 

steer clear of music that talks about things like self loathing or self hate and instead go for songs that uplift you. a lot of the time when ppl bring up the relationship between the songs u listen to and ur mindset a misconception that ppl have is that like, u can’t listen to emotional or sad songs and that’s NOT TRUE. u can listen to sad songs and still be a confident, bad bitch.

HONEYS HOT TIPS ;

probably TMI but something that rly helps confidence is when u match ur bras to ur panties (IDEK WHAT IT IS) like the confidence boost is insane. when u look good -> you feel good.

again, embarrassment does NOT exist

no one is above you and no one is beneath you

surround urself with other confident individuals so that they can uplift u and u all can LEARN from each other, cuz the people u surround urself with matters.

[unholybacon355]

Kinktober Day 10 - Kim Jennie x M! Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

A/N: I know I said that day 10 would be Twice G!P, but shit happens and I wanted to post Jennie today in honor to her new release.

You hate summer, that isn’t a secret to anyone. But you have to admit that some good things come with the hellish heat that has been hitting the city these days. The air conditioner on your small apartment is broken and makes the place feel like a sauna, not even with all windows completely open you can stand this demonic summer.

Under these conditions even an easy task like doing the laundry became a true challenge. At least the freaking tiny laundry room have a grid wall that allows air to flow from the exterior, making it more pleasant than the rest of the house. Still the heat was making you sweat a lot, or maybe it wasn't just the hot summer.

The room was tiny, yes. And almost didn't have space for two persons standing inside, but what about a person standing and another sitting on the washing machine? And both naked, that saves a lot of space. If you add to that that the persons are very close till the point that they can feel the heat on each other's skin, that saves even more space. Those two persons obviously were you and your girlfriend Jennie, who got distracted from the task of doing the laundry.

The bad idea here was to get naked to also put in the washing machine the clothes you were wearing, and were completely soaked in sweat. At the very moment you saw the svelte and very sexy naked body of Jennie, your shaft came to life and one thing led to another. Now she was sitting on the washing machine with you between her legs, and your dick inside her. 

Hot and salty sweat was covering both of you, even with the air that flowed between the wall, even when you were moving at the rhythm of the washing machine cycles. But instead of making it uncomfortable, that layer or sweat makes things naughtier and pleasant to you. In some way it was just another of your fluid mixing. Also that makes Jennie’s body more slippery to your touch, making it easier for you to run your hands over her skiing. Touching here and there, squeezing her boobs, or caressing the back of her neck. Your hands fly over her skin thangs to the sweat.

Her legs were crossed behind your butt, trapping you there, preventing you from sliding your shaft out of her. But that idea wasn't even close to your mind, all you can think now is keep stuffing your meat inside jennie’s wet and warm pussy. The only heat you love, the only heat that makes your heart run like an engine fueling the muscles of your body to pleasure Jennie.

Your flat tongue ran from between her perky breast to the sweet spot of her neck, collecting all the salty sweat you can. You're cleaning your girlfriend while fucking her and making her sweat even more. Jennie is a mess and you don’t know what is more wet. If her skin with all the sweat, or her pussy with her own slick and your precum. 

You wanna clean her back. Run your tongue over her shoulder blades, over her low back and between the crack of her ass. Your mouth turns into a cascade of saliva when you imagine the taste and smell of her sweaty asshole have right now. But on this position you can’t put your tongue there, all you can do is keep senseless fucking her and licking her neck and breast. 

The old washing machine protests under Jennie’s weight and the force of your trust. The artifact began with an erratic movement when start to shoot the water in the pipe in order to rinse the clothes it had inside. Jennie feels that movement to her core and her center flood with more of her own juices. She’s moaning like crazy and you're groaning as well, probably making more noise than you should. But a noise complaint is totally worth it when you are having this dirty sex. When you’re able to lick Jennie’s sweat from her boobs or her armpist while fucking her like an animal. 

You put a finger between her buttocks, playing with her soaked rear entrance at the time you kiss her on the mouth. There is this salty and wonderful taste mixed with your saliva that drives both of you crazy, making this more naughty and pleasant. She’s a freak, your freak, and she loves how you even worship something so dirty like her sweat. But how could you not when everything about Kim Jennie is so perfect, even the salty smelly fluid that is emanating through her pores.

The sweat also acts like a lubricant making your finger very slippery and allowing you to insert it on her asshole. Now you’re fucking Jennie’s both entrances, and the way she’s moaning and how her hands are practically crawling on your back tells you she is enjoying it. She’s even drooling over your shoulder, surrendering herself to the absolute pleasure of being fucked on this naughty way.

You put another finger on her ass while your hips are smacking her’s, and the washing machine began the dance og it last cycle. It is like an earthquake, or a big freaking vibrator that makes Jennie collapse. Between your shaft deeply buried inside her pussy, your fingers playing with her asshole, the movement of the machine, and your tongue licking her body she can´t take it anymore. 

Her pussy exploded covering both of you not only on sweat, but also on Jennie’s slick. She crye out of pure pleasure while her pussy sprinkle you with another of her fluids.

Maybe after all summer isn't that bad, because it is the only season when you can enjoy this kind of twister form of sex.  Maybe after all summer isn’t that bad. 

[bjarkanart]

So... I did a thing because, man, y'all are wild! The response I keep getting for my silly take on a meme is insane and I appreciate every single like and reblog, you have no idea. So I made it into a wallpaper for my phone and thought "hey, maybe I should share it with my fellow critters?" So here it is!

Also, I don't know if it's weird to use your own art as background on your phone or whatever but I personally do when I'm actually happy with something I drew so, I edited it a little bit to make the picture extra warm and soft and comforting to look at... but it's only for smartphones at the moment. It's not exactly high quality either since it was edited on my phone using Snapseed but it gets the job done, y'know.

I'll probably try to make it a proper illustration at some point without the funny little texts here and there cause I kinda feel bad for keeping Pâté out of the picture but hey, I need my daily dose of Imodna and I got the little guy tattooed on the side of my calf so I'm good but y'all might wanna see him still, right? 😂

Anyway, let me know if you'd like to see a text-free version of the whole thing? Oh and maybe I'll add Imogen's scars this time around, I had a few fics in mind where Imogen probably doesn't have the purple scars and left them out for this so, just a thought.

I'm gonna stop rambling now, don't mind me, and thanks again for the crazy feedback, it means a lot!

[huellitaa]

girl's guide to academic success: ep 1! ⊹˚. ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 this post focuses on: actively rooting for success! ♡ part 2 -> ♡

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 1. organisation

first off, have something to organise ur academic life with! i personally use notion (which i'll add later) but u can use anything as long as it's cute, convenient, unique and accessible to you, your life and your schedule specifically. especially as a visual learner, i like to have somewhere i can dump literally everything regarding a singular area in my life, so i do this for almost everything along with school and i highly recommend this <3

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 2. recognition of talents & improvements

analyse your strengths and weaknesses. think back on tests, exams, marks, and analyse which ones you got highest and lowest on. dont beat urself up for it, obviously; it's just to check which subjects you're doing good in and which ones have room for improvement. for example i love science but im not the best at it sometimes and we had an assessment recently and i didn't get as high as i'd like so i wrote down a little list on a piece of paper in my pencilcase for the topics i got the least in for me to study on my own to practise later.

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 3. laying out goals

set down specific goals; i like to do this week by week accustomed to my schedule that week in my school notion page along with images and vision boards based on the term/semester, but you can do it for the week, the month, the year, anything as long as its helpful to you

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 4. productive planning

plan accordingly based on ur time energy. when creating any to do list or productivity plan dont pile a ridiculous amount onto it that just leaves you stressed and overwhelmed because that defeats the entire point; this works the same for academic plans and goals and lists etc.

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 5. extra credit

put extra work in to the subjects you know will help you in the future. for example, for my personal aspirations i need to excel in english, history and textiles so i always try my absolute hardest and put my all into those lessons and do extra studying for them in my free time where i can. school is to prepare you for the future so take advantage of that

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 6. asking questions

please don't be shy to ask questions! that's what teachers are there for and you won't have them forever so take advantage of it while you can! you can even do it in that little window of time just after class if ur too nervous to ask in class. for example, on my last english exam i went to my teacher after class and asked about what i needed to improve on to get the marks i missed next time, and he told me i added too much detail and some other things so i wrote it down and am keeping a note of it to remind me to improve on that next time! (i got top of my class though so i didnt mind. still kind of pissed i added too much detail though)

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 7. participation

participate! ok im saying this as someone who still struggles with social anxiety a fair amount but if u wanna get higher marks and get on good terms w ur teacher i 100% recommend this. i don't do this in every class but i do it where i can and when i'm confident in my answer, and it's really intimidating at first but what i did is i did it first in the classes i felt most comfortable on and continued from there. it gets easier every time i swear, and nobody's judging you; they'll forget about it after five minutes. plus, what would they be judging you for? being smarter than them?

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 8. prioritising ur health

this is mentioned a lot in these types of posts but if you're tired or burnt out or overworked or just feel like you need to take a break then do. do the best you can and compromise like i said earlier if you need to, just make sure u are prioritising yourself over anything. <3

──★ ˙ ̟🎀inspo

──★ ˙ ̟🎀my notion

i also really recommend this layout by @honeytonedhottie ♡

all my love 🩷✨💬🎀💗

[ablobwhowrites]

Hello, I've been a fan of your yandere ramblings, especially the sonic ones since no one does those really on this.

So I came with my own little ramblings for a human y/n that gets sucked into mobias (basically a reverse sonic X)

First of all, y/n is always staying at someone's house in a rotation (from cream and vanilla to tails to Amy, etc), and isn't allowed to sleep on their own without some mobian cuddling them.

Also y/n pulls a generations and meets different eras of the sonic cast, first meeting classic sonic, tails, knuckles, Amy, robotnik and metal sonic. And robotnik just being intrigued by this other human, and has metal kidnap them (who grows obsessed, yandere robot go brr).

And after a lot of classic obsession and shenanigans, y/n is transported to the mid modern era (sonic adventure and advanced series), and meets new characters like cream, big and chaos.

Cream is the only normal one (still is clingy), and tails is slightly more obsessive (still normal tho), and chaos just plays hot potato of constantly nabbing y/n during adventure 1.

Then onto generations itself and the time monster decides to also nab y/n because Eggman told them to (definitely not because it finds this human adorable).

Also fleetway sonic and scourge being the clingiest and jealous hedgehogs ever.

Omega also likes to just hold y/n randomly, like he does with cream and cheese in the comics

(tails and cream and chao's are strictly platonic yanderes for any yandere sonic stuff I do and may add to the platonic only if needed)

I do imagine they have their are scared as all hell but for classic sonic I do imagine he is shorter kinda how it is in other modern games and just imagining y/n in changing styles everytime they are put into a new sonic generation just to fit into the era. And is the classic era kinda wearing something like eggmans fit but modified to be their own and kinda fitting the hero style but they do try to take their gloves off but it's a struggle. And just imagining classic knuckles keeping y/n near the master emerald as that way he can protect two things at once. Tails is kinda like a that little brother who always wants to show you stuff even if your already doing something. Like tails will come to y/n and holds up his newest invention and y/n is like "oh cool. But tails I'm really busy right now t-" and tails is like "hold on let me show you want it does" and ends up destroying the only portal way home for y/n.

I do imagine just y/n at classic Amy's place and is just like "I wonder if I can make a run for it to see what would happen." But mostly just waiting for the right moment to run like when classic eggman and sonic were fighting and ended up tripping into a open portal somehow and now are in the mid modern era and I like to think their outfits changes to corespondents with the sonic era they are in. And imagining with some cross over games may or may not become obsessed with y/n like the sonic characters are and it's hell for y/n cause like bro has to deal with this now.

Plus imagining omega just being a kinda bodyguard for y/n is nice. They don't know omega is obsessed to buy keeps it more professional and so is shadow because he grows more insistent that he go everywhere with y/n to keep them safe even if not endanger, he still goes just to be sure nothing happens and then rouge is like "oh the master emerald and y/n! What a package deal!" and steals both but if she cannot get the emerald, she goes for the better option and y/n having to cling into rouge because like they do not wanna fall from how high she flys cause like bro you wouldn't be scared just looking down to see how far from the ground you are from?

Plus imagining y/n having a bunch of chao's walking behind y/n like ducklings because I say so and y/n wanting to take one because it decided to sleep on y/n's lap but they can't take them out of the chao garden. I love chao's they are so silly.

Also metal sonic after he sees y/n standing minding their own business:

Metal sonic and y/n are bascially that scene with miles running away and Miguel chasing him. And imagining that metal sonic dragging y/n back to eggmans base by the ankle because like I know if metal sonic held hands with y/n, he ain't never letting go of y/n's hand

(that's it's for my yapping for rn, but anyways if you guys like this y/n or idea please don't feel shy and request your ideas or y/n ideas. But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[koqabear]

congratulations on 2k!! im so proud of you so heres a song equation that i think is so genius

the weeknd, one of your girls + beomgyu + smut and fluff = popular fuckboy!beomgyu x popular sweet!mc

this song is so beomgyu to me😵‍💫😵‍💫

♫: One of the Girls, The Weeknd // [2K Masterlist]

"Beomgyu’s a lot more obsessed with you than he’d like to admit."

beomgyu x fem!reader // wc: 2.1K // genre: smut, pwp, only a bit of fluff sorry <3 MDNI.

warnings: dom!beomgyu, sub!mc, oral (m & f rec), name calling (slut), finger sucking(?), spitting, praise, pet names (pretty girl, good girl, etc.), deep throating, dacryphilia maybe, possessiveness, overstimulation, cumming untouched ig. unprotected sex.. lmk if i should add anything

Notes: 2k followers ended months ago and this bitch is still here

Beomgyu never intended to keep you around this long.

Pretty girls like you were never his type. Saccharine sweet, innocent smiles, bright eyes and an energetic attitude that brought people to you like flies to honey. You had the world in the palm of your hand, opportunities at your feet and friends that were loyal like dogs— you were perfect, untouchable, untainted. 

Everything he was not. 

Maybe that’s how he got where he is now, low lidded eyes observing you carefully, watching as your shining doe eyes plead up at him, careful hands smoothing up and down the rough material of his jeans; you’re so pretty like this, he finds himself thinking, all pliant and weak to him, waiting for his command like a mindless puppy— your throat bobs and your tongue darts across your lips, dainty fingers playing with the loops of his belt as you silently plead for permission to let him feel good.

“My friends were talking about you today,” Beomgyu murmurs, tilting his head and reaching down to caress your face gently; warm hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone, smiling at your head that immediately goes to lean into his touch, “said they couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout the way you looked in the dress you wore to last weeks party.”

Memories flash in your mind; the party your friends dragged you to, only complying because you were aware of who was taking part in hosting it— the pure, innocent image that hung over your head causing heads to turn the whole night— you could hear it, practically, the whispers and comments wondering what you were doing in such a place, all having speculated you the type to hate loud, rowdy environments like these.

They weren’t wrong; you barely lasted an hour in that dark, crowded place, finding yourself having a much better time in the back of Beomgyu’s car, pretty dress bunched at your hips and your makeup smudged by the time he dropped you off at your place, greedy hands refusing to let you go so easily, not one to put up much of a fight yourself; you’ve always been fond of waking up to the sight of Beomgyu first thing in the morning, anyway. 

Beomgyu’s eyes darken; you’re snapped out of your reverie by the feeling of blunt nails digging into your skin, your head tilted back as you’re forced to stare back at Beomgyu’s dangerous gaze.

“They also couldn’t stop talking ‘bout how bad they wanna fuck you,” he seethes, nails digging in deeper at the very thought; your eyes glisten and you shift restlessly on your knees, a shaky sigh escaping your lips at his tone— his thumb quickly reaches over to weigh down at your bottom lip, parting your lips slowly. 

“Would give anything to feel your mouth,” he recounts, thumb pushing into your mouth, a gentle pressure against your tongue as he surveys how easily you obey him; his brows knit together and his thumb hooks down against your tongue, opening your mouth roughly as he hovers over you; his face is inches away from yours as he speaks, his voice barely audible. “Said it’s such a shame they didn’t get their hands on you that night.”

Beomgyu could only sit back in his seat and listen; a spectator to it all, jaw clenched and arms crossed as he took in the way they spoke about you, salivating over you— the very reminder is enough to have his blood boiling. But, who was he to lash out at them? As far as the world was concerned, you were a pure, pretty girl that was expected to marry the son of an influential family friend. Beomgyu was never supposed to be in the picture.

“Wonder what everyone would think if they saw you now,” he mutters, voice patronizing and eyes filled with a sick arrogance as he stares down at you, “a good little slut on her knees for me.”

Without further warning, he spits; you flinch slightly at the action, a whine ripping through you as he straightens back up. Deft fingers smooth down your head, digging into your scalp and forcing your head forward— your hands are quick to undo his jeans, not needing another word from him for you to know what he wants. 

“Fuck,” Beomgyu breathes out, dazed at the sight of your eager actions, quickly undoing his jeans and getting to his leaking cock; your hand is warm and soft against him, and he feels himself twitching pathetically the moment you finally pull him free from his underwear; your pace is familiar and your lips are plush as they kiss at the tip of his cock, doe eyes glancing back up at him for approval.

“So perfect for me,” Beomgyu coos, caressing your cheeks and watching as you take him in your mouth slowly, lidded gaze glued onto the lewd scene like he’s determined to ingrain everything about this moment into his mind, “Know just what I like, such a good girl.”

His voice is soft and deep as he purrs out praise to you, hand wandering down until it’s placed at your throat curiously— you relax instinctively, jaw falling slack as he begins to thrust shallowly, whispered curses and rumbled groans making your thighs clench pitifully— but your hands simply fall down on your thighs, knowing that Beomgyu never likes it when you touch yourself like this. 

Your tearful yet determined gaze has Beomgyu’s pace stuttering— you just look so damn pretty under the dull lights of his room, the feminine and cute outfit you’ve put on today not helping at all; your makeup is already getting smudged from the tears that cling to your lashes and the drool that builds up at the corners of your mouth, taking everything Beomgyu gives you with nothing but a wide doe-eyed look. 

“Shit…” Beomgyu groans, his thrusts a lot rougher than they were moments ago; he’s getting closer, you can tell, your hands balling into fists on your thighs as you continue to let him fuck your mouth just how he likes— his hand is frantic to grab at the back of your head, fingers stinging at your scalp as he pulls you flush against his pelvis; he’s still, and you can feel him throbbing in your mouth— your throat stings and your eyes squeeze shut, hot tears running down your cheeks as you swallow instinctively; Beomgyu lets out a sharp moan at the feeling.

“D–Don’t— don’t… do that,” Beomgyu huffs out, hips grinding subconsciously against you, your lungs starting to burn as you place a frantic hand on his thigh— but Beomgyu pays no mind to you, clearly lost in his head as he lets out a shaky sigh; at the sudden feeling of you placing a slight pressure on him, he looks down at you curiously. 

“Hold it,” he tells you, lips twitching darkly as he feels you swallow again, body tensing as he simply ruts into your throat gently, “just a bit longer… you can take it baby.”

Your throat constricts around him, your eyes sting and you whine on his cock that continues to stuff your mouth— Beomgyu only pulls out once he feels you tapping weakly at his thigh, watching with low lidded eyes as you immediately begin to sputter and cough, a string of spit connected from his tip to your lips; he leans down to get a good look at you, watching you with a deceivingly soft smile as you try to regain your breath— his hand smoothes down your hair fondly, head cocking to the side as he prompts you to look at him. 

“Good?” he asks gently, watching you nod without hesitation; he chuckles, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead before he takes your hands in his, pulling you up and beginning to walk you backwards toward his bed, “Good.”

As Beomgyu hovers over you, your he can’t help but find himself thinking about how fond he’s grown of this sight; of you, your breathless figures and your shiny eyes that catch his every movement, from his gaze that takes you in hungrily to his hands that slowly push the skirt of your dress up. 

“Such a pretty girl,” Beomgyu breathes out, your wide eyes watching as he shifts down to lay on his stomach, slow, warm hands running up and down your thighs— you squirm impatiently at the feeling, hips bucking and lips parting in a gasp as he places a slow kiss onto your clothed cunt; mouth lingering for a moment, smiling coyly at the wet patch that already seems to have formed— and he looks back up at you, fingers hooking under your panties to pull them down as he speaks. “All mine too, right?”

Without thinking, you nod.

“Wouldn’t let anyone else see this perfect body,” he murmurs, fingers beginning to wander up and down your slit, toying with your clit and watching the arousal leak out of you desperately, “It’s all for me.”

Beomgyu always seems to get like this, you think to yourself— his touches are teasing, needy, and his tongue is warm as he licks at your clit, fingers picking up where he left off so he can talk— he’s insatiable, possessive, and his words always make you clench a little tighter against him; you think he must feel the way you react to him, and that’s why he’s taken a liking to running his mouth so much. 

You couldn’t be any more incorrect, though— because as Beomgyu finally begins to use his mouth on you, tongue fucking your hole and nose pressing insatiably against your clit, he can only find himself thinking about how he’d like to spend the rest of his life like this— here, with you, listening to the way you keen and cry and bury your fingers in his hair, whining incoherently into the air. 

“I’m— I’m close,” you stutter, your hips bucking and chasing after Beomgyu’s mouth; he simply hums in response, eyes closed with bliss as he feels your thighs shake and close around his head— your voice is pretty and airy as you stutter out mindless praise, every moan of his name causing his cock to twitch and leak against your mattress, unable to stop the way he grinds against it stupidly. 

“R-right— Right there, oh my god, please don’t stop, please— coming, I’m coming, Beomgyu—!”

Your hips buck up and your back arches— your nails dig into his scalp and pull at his hair, shaky moans falling from your lips as your body tenses up and your orgasm washes over you. Beomgyu remains keen to it all— every sound you make, the way your body shakes and falls limp, he takes it all in, tongue still lapping hungrily at your arousal and hips still grinding into your mattress. 

He helps you ride it all out— your eyes prick with tears all the while, sensitivity sending shocks throughout your body as you feel him groan against your cunt, burying his head further in even after you’ve begun to whine that it’s too much; when his head emerges from between your legs, he looks just as dazed and out of breath as you— if not more so. 

“Gyu…” you mumble out, eyes drifting down to his chest that heaves, down to his stomach and noticing something that makes your eyes widen; Beomgyu follows your gaze, glancing down and looking away with red tinted ears.

“Can’t help it,” he huffs, not ashamed in the slightest as he hovers over you, cupping your face and leaning down to capture your lips, barely parting so he can speak, “you’re so hot when you cum.”

“Am I?” you ask softly, laughing at the immediate nod you get; your hand wanders down between your bodies, fingertips brushing over his cum-stained stomach and on his already hardening cock— your brows jump, and you smile. “Need me to clean you up?”

Beomgyu’s fervent shake of his head catches you by surprise; he’s never been one to deny the feeling of your mouth on him, so to say that this unexpected was an understatement.

“Just wanna be inside you,” he mumbles against your lips, the feeling of his cockhead grinding against your clit bringing about a sigh from both of you, “wanna see you cum again.”

The whine you let out at his words is enough to have him entering you slowly; dark eyes taking in every change of your expression, watching as your brows furrow at the stretch— he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of the sight. 

No other girl has ever managed to do what you have; the man above you feels entirely enamored as he watches the way you cry and clench around his cock, gasping his name and clinging onto him desperately— you drive him crazy, and this only serves to prove it further. 

You were never supposed to leave such an impact on him. But now that you have, Beomgyu will do anything to make sure that you don’t escape his clutches.

[millerstolemyheart]

Pairing: Joel Miller x M!Reader

Warnings: Broken ankle, pure smut, blowjob (reader receiving), anal, gay gay gay gay

A/N: There’s absolutely not enough gay Joel Miller fanfics out there, so I guess I’ll add my own to the mix? Note- I do this for fun, so I don’t proofread a lot. I just wanna add more filth to the world ✨

Summary: Reader gets injured on patrol with Joel, and Joel refuses to leave his side.

Closer

Snow crunches under your boots as you trudge through the forest, the frigid winter air stinging your cheeks and making each breath feel like pins and needles are going down your trachea. The bitter wind howls through the barren landscape, carrying with it a cold that cuts straight to the bone. You tighten the pitiful excuse for a scarf around your neck, the woolen fabric offering little protection against the relentless Wyoming chill. Each breath is a reminder of the harsh reality of your world. Without thinking about it, you glance ahead at Joel, who trudges forward with the kind of grim determination that has kept you both alive many times before.

The trees, bare and skeletal, reach towards the heavy gray sky with gnarled branches, their bark coated in a thin layer of frost. It seems as if the woods themselves are frozen in time, awaiting the thaw of spring to come. Unfortunately, you have several more months before warmer weather approaches. It had been a long winter already, and the food stores were beginning to dwindle. You were lucky Tommy’s patrol brought down a few elk last week, enough to keep spirits going for at least a little while longer. Still, you couldn’t help but worry about the months to come.

“Eyes open,” Joel grunts ahead of you, as if sensing your wandering mind. His voice is almost lost in the wind, but you’re familiar enough at this point to understand what he says, or grunts… He’s a man of little words, playing his cards close to his chest. You’d practically begged Maria to send someone, anyone else these morning patrols. The idea of spending hours alone with the most reclusive man in Jackson wasn’t something you longed for. Plus, Joel seemed rather disinterested at the idea of having an unfamiliar body to take care of. Nevertheless, here you were, four months later- still trudging through the snowy underbrush, eyes peeled for movement.

“You keep your eyes open,” you grumble under your breath, confident the howling wind will disguise your quip.

You could swear you hear a snort of laughter from the man ahead of you, but it’s hard to tell with the wind howling so obnoxiously in your ears. Still, the possibility causes the corner of your mouth to tug upwards into a smirk. It had been a game of yours for a while, trying to force a laugh out of Joel. You’d seen it happen before on rare occasions. A chuckle here, a smirk there. It was a strange thing to watch Joel’s permanently-furrowed brow smooth itself out, the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling deeply, mouth upturned. It suited him.

Without thinking, you find your eyes studying Joel. The way the softly falling flecks of snow stick to his salt-and-pepper curls. The broad muscles of his shoulders sway in time with his steady pace. He moves confidently and quickly, no doubt just as ready to return home as you are. You’re about two miles out from the gates at this point, passing the river that welcomes you into familiar territory once more. A sigh of relief escapes you, tinged with the strangest feeling of disappointment. It’s not that you enjoy freezing your asscheeks off in negative temperatures, though… There is a quiet familiarity to the routine. It’s easy to be around Joel. Less to think about. It’s as if his presence brings a calmness, something solid to hook your focus into. You were aware these feelings meant trouble, but at this point… what didn’t?

Joel slows his pace as you pass the river, no doubt feeling just as relieved to be in the home stretch. He reaches a comfortable pace a few feet from you, eyes cast forward. The steady clomp of his boots falls into time with your own.

“Almost there,” he comments, shooting a quick glance in your direction. He knits his brow together, eyes scanning your red cheeks. “Y’alright?”

I’m lucky the cold sting of the wind hides the blush that creeps into my face. “Yep. Nothing I love more than freezing my dick off in this beautiful Wyoming hellscape.”

Joel snorts under his breath, bringing a pleased smile to your lips. One point for Y/N…

“What about you, old man?” You suddenly tease, testing your luck. You watch as Joel turns a sharp amber gaze in your direction, jaw clenching. But he’s unable to hide the twinkle in his eyes. You arch a brow, waiting for his response.

Joel simply adjusts his rifle on his shoulder to a more comfortable position with a grunt. “Old man could still kick your ass…” He grumbles, eyes locked on the horizon, scanning from right to left.

You break into a genuine grin, falling silent once more as you both make your way step-by-step towards home. 1.8 miles. 1.6 miles. 1.5 miles. It’s a relatively quiet day besides the howling of wind and the crunch of snow under your feet. Not many people are crazy enough to brave the northern winter; though, you maintain your daily patrols, unwilling to take the chance and end up losing the first place you’ve found to be safe in a long time.

It’s almost too uneventful these days… You catch yourself thinking just as your foot hits a hidden patch of ice. You hear the snap before you feel it, a sharp pulse of pain shooting its way up your leg as you tumble down, hitting the ground with a hard thump. A soft cry makes its way from your throat, practically losing itself in the wind.

Before you can figure out what happened, Joel is kneeling beside you, eyes scanning you diligently, hands hovering above your wounded leg. “Sh, sh sh…” He consoles. “Y’alright?” He checks your head for injury, and you swat him away, hissing through your teeth at the radiating pain in your ankle.

“Fine, Joel,” You grunt. “Didn’t hit my head, just slipped. I… I think it’s broken.” You attempt to move your leg, the pain causing your vision to go white for a split instant. “Shit!” You’re over a mile away from home with no horses, and the weather seems to be picking up. Wracking your brain, you clench your jaw. “Go to town, get help. I’ve got my rifle.” Staying here by yourself isn’t the most appealing of ideas, but you know you can’t walk.

You see Joel bristle as you suggest parting, and the man releases an annoyed puff of air in the form of a small cloud that dissipates above your heads. “Go to town, my ass. I’m not leavin’ you out here to freeze to death.” His eyes are locked onto yours, a warm coffee-color that reflects the dull glint of sunlight off the freshly fallen snow. You feel your body give an involuntary shudder and mentally blame it on the pain.

“Well unless you’re hiding a horse up your ass, you don’t have a choice,” I counter, tilting my head in a clear challenge.

This only seems to strengthen Joel’s resolve. He silently stands, towering over you for a moment. In this instant, it seems as though he may actually turn and leave you lying there. Why does the thought of that make your stomach hurt? However, his intentions make themselves clear when he steps behind you and locks his thick arms under your knees and behind your back. With a deep grunt, he straightens up, you locked tightly against his chest like a baby. The move is dizzying, and you unintentionally grip his shoulders in response. “Woah! Joel! What are you doing?”

“Deal with it,” he grunts as simply as that. He begins to take gentle steps back on our route towards town, paying attention to any unlevel areas of ground. You barely feel the motions of his stride, but you’re hyper aware of other things now. The warmth of his broad chest radiating out and thawing your aching muscles. His steady breathing, gentle puffs of air on the top of your head. The thump-thump-thump of your heartbeat. And most of all, the deep crimson shade that’s taken over your cheeks as you’re forced into an incredibly-humiliating position of vulnerability. You want to protest, to hit him, to force him to drop you and leave you on the frozen ground to avoid being spotted like this. However, you can’t deny the surge of warmth that spreads through your belly as the man carries you effortlessly over the landscape.

Joel purposely shoots you a glance, sensing your discomfort. “Y’alright?”

“Shut up.”

“Big words for someone gettin’ a free lift,” he shoots back, clearly enjoying the upper hand. There’s a hint of arrogance in his tone that makes you want to slap him and then kiss him. It sends a shiver down your spine, something not lost on the older man. You sense the vibration of a chuckle in his chest, but he stays silent, maintaining a clear and careful path back towards Jackson.

“This is humiliating,” You whine, throwing your head back and letting the snow fall directly onto your face.

“Quit your complainin’. Freezing to death ‘cause of pride would be humiliating.” Joel tightens his grip. “And for Christ’s sake, help me out here. Hold on or somethin’.”

You clench my teeth, biting back a groan while you throw a hesitant arm around his shoulders, other hand holding on to his jacket. It’s the least intimate position you could possibly contort yourself into, and yet it still feels like you’re playing “damsel-in-distress.” You should have seen the ice coming, should have been more careful. Now you were definitely off patrol for a while. A shadow falls over your face at the thought of someone else taking over your patrol slot with Joel.

“It hurtin’?” Joel asks softly, voice taking on a careful tone. When you glance up, he’s concerned, eyes flicking down to study your swelling ankle. “We’ll be there soon.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” You close your eyes, finding comfort in the darkness away from your present situation. “Thanks.”

A low rumble is all you receive in response, his chest humming an approving noise. The steady rocking of his pace sends your head falling back against his chest every few steps, colliding gently with the hard muscle. Being this close, you can smell his natural Joel smell. Like old sawdust and pine. It’s a comforting scent that you’ve grown used to on patrol, sneaking careful inhales without Joel noticing. You could only imagine the taunts you would receive if he ever suspected. He knows about your sexuality at this point, but he’s never made a case of it, electing instead to carry on as if nothing changed, which you appreciate. In return, you refrain from asking about his personal life, only engaging when he has something to share, which is rare.

“You fallin’ asleep on me?”

Joel’s drawling voice wakes you from your daydream, your eyes shooting open to find an amused, maybe even cocky smirk. You feel your cheeks redden again. “No, shut up.” You feel like a child in his arms, completely helpless. It’s a far cry from how you’ve worked hard to prove yourself, both to the community and to Joel.

Joel just chuckles and continues his trek. Within minutes you spot the familiar walls of Jackson on the horizon. Your body relaxes a bit knowing your ordeal will be over soon. With a sharp whistle, Joel has them opening the heavy wooden gates, carrying you inside. You begin to squirm, ready for Joel to release you, but he just lifts you higher into his grip and continues walking, ignoring the looks from the gate patrol. “I’m takin’ you to the infirmary,” he states, resolute.

You open your mouth to protest, but something about his steady determination feels… good. It has a warmth pooling in your core again, eyes careful as they scrutinize Joel’s rugged expression. Deciding it best not to argue, you just nod silently and look forward as he walks you both to the nearby infirmary. It’s a quiet day today, most people holed up inside their homes to wait out the falling snow. The infirmary only has a few people flitting in and out, and Joel is confident as he makes his way inside towards an available cot. “Slipped on ice out on patrol,” he explains calmly when the nurse makes his way over to you.

“We’re gonna have to cut these pants off,” the nurse explains apologetically, eyes flitting to your swelling ankle. “I hope you have more.”

You roll your eyes, unable to help yourself. “Great. Just great.” You sigh and nod, giving silent permission for the scissors to be brought out. Joel backs up, giving the staff room to work, though his eyes remain fixed. They study your calm diligence as your favorite pair of pants is hacked away, your ankle red and inflamed. His cheeks appear almost tinged pink when he realizes he’s gazing, and he quickly averts his gaze to give you some privacy.

You, meanwhile, are too busy mourning the pants to notice how Joel’s eyes flicker across the hem of your underwear before shooting down to the tile floor. If you had noticed, you may have also seen the way his breath catches in his throat, or how his pupils dilate. But no, you’re busy watching as the staff treat your ankle, setting and wrapping it, and giving you a small amount of pain medication to take on your way. They don’t have any extra pants around, so they wrap you as best they can in a thick fleece blanket, making you look like the world’s most insane upper-midwestern mermaid. You don’t miss the twinkle in Joel’s eyes when he sees your new outfit.

“Well that sure is somethin’ ya don’t see every day…” Joel muses, one side of his mouth curling up into an amused smirk.

“I swear to god, Joel,” you groan. “Can you just help me get home?”

Joel raises his hands in mock defense. “Alright, alright. But you’re coming with me.” His voice carries with it a sternness that dares you to challenge him.

“With you?” You squeak out, surprised.

“Ya can’t walk. Not at least for a few days.” He scratches the back of his head, and if you didn’t know any better, you would think he appeared sheepish. “You got hurt on my watch, and that makes you my responsibility.”

Your face falls slightly. So that’s it? I’m a responsibility? I feel my jaw clench. “I can’t take care of myself, Joel.” The statement is pure bullshit. He and you both know you’d be frozen into a human popsicle if it weren’t for Joel’s stubbornness. “I’m not anyone’s burden.”

Joel’s eyes narrow as he takes in your reaction, the defensive hurt evident on your face. It doesn’t take him a second to kneel down next to your cot, eyes serious. “Hey now…” His gaze is a magnetic force, pulling your focus up to those eyes of his. Those damn eyes…

“You’re no burden,” he declares matter-of-factly. “I’m just lookin’ out for ya. We’re… we’re buds, right?”

Buds? You blink. Since when does Joel consider you a friend? You must have worn your surprise on your face, because Joel continues on.

“Yeah, buds. Whatever. Shut up. Just let me bring you home with me for a couple days, alright? I could use the company. Ellie’s out on a supply run for the week anyways.” His eyes soften, seeming to implore me. But his mouth is still drawn in that classic Joel expression.

“I…” You feel your suspicion begin to dissipate, replaced with surprised confusion. “Fine.” Your voice is soft, careful even. Of all the times you’ve fantasized about Joel bringing you home, this was never one of the scenarios.

Joel nods silently, but his body hums with a pleased glow. He stands, takes the medication and pockets it before glancing back down at you.. “Ready?” His arms twitch to take you up again, but this time he refrains from doing so until he’s sure you’re expecting it. “Promise I’m just a short walk away this time.” He shoots you an uncharacteristically cheeky grin.

You feel yourself nodding before you even consider his words. Joel takes you up to cradle you once more, this time making sure the blanket around your lower half is wrapped securely and won’t be lost in the increasingly-strong winds outside. You barely notice the frigid temperatures this time. Between the adrenaline from your ankle and the warmth flooding your body from Joel’s arms, it could be springtime. Luckily, there’s nobody wandering outside to spot this display of vulnerability, and Joel is able to bring you to his home within the next few minutes.

The air inside is warmer, but still chilly, as he sets you on the couch. He wordlessly moves to the fireplace and gets a good blaze started. The heat from the flames fills the room with a comforting warm and steady glow, already making you forget about the storm outside. You find yourself holding the small bottle of pain pills from the infirmary. “Take your meds,” Joel commands, eyes studying you for a moment before he turns and disappears into the kitchen.

“Aye, aye, Cap’n…” You mutter, twisting off the top and popping one. At least we have medication now. The town supplies were steadily growing, but this winter was bound to be harsh. It was a good thing the reserves could last you for weeks… Your mind wanders while Joel fusses about in the kitchen, returning with two cups of coffee. The aroma fills your nose, making you almost forget about the dull throb in your ankle for just a moment.

Joel wordlessly hands you a steaming mug and takes a seat in the chair across from you. His gaze is steady as he takes in the sight of you laid up on his couch. His expression is hard to read, but it seems as though he’s pleased about something.

Narrowing your eyes, you interrupt the silence. “What?”

Joel shakes his head with a low chuckle. “You’re cute when you’re all indignant.”

The words hang in the air like balloons. It’s as close to a flirt as you’ve ever heard from Joel, and directed at you??? You feel heat rise to your cheeks, and you swallow thickly. “I- er… I-”

“See?” Joel shakes his head, releasing an amused puff of breath. “You can’t stand being taken care of, can you?”

Your cheeks burn, embarrassed. That’s not entirely the truth. To be perfectly honest, you wanted nothing more than to sit back and let Joel take care of you. To protect you. To provide for you. But that isn’t the way the world works. People don’t just take care of others without expecting something in return. You knew Joel wasn’t the type, not anymore… but the bias remained firm. “I… This isn’t a place where you can rely on someone else,” You finally choke out.

Joel studies you carefully, considering your words, before responding.

“This place? With me?” He grows serious, expression softening. “You ain’t gotta worry about that, hot shot.” His teasing term of endearment makes my shoulders soften, a familiarity amidst all this new territory and the rearranging of boundaries that comes with it. Joel points to my ankle. “That. That’s no joke. You could make it worse. Hurt yourself. I still need you on patrol when you get better.” His mouth twitches up into a tiny smile. “Next time you can carry me. I promise.”

The joke prompts a laugh out of you, the mental image of you struggling to lift Joel into your arms a sight to behold. As your body shakes with laughter, you spot Joel with a pleased grin, his plan to break down your walls already working. It was a strange game you played. Each with your own walls and defenses, each with your own strategy of navigating the other’s. Here, in Joel’s home, you felt those walls attempt to erect themselves again, your body’s way of protecting itself against threats. And your developing crush on Joel was the biggest threat of all.

***

One day turned into two days, and two days turned into two weeks. Your ankle was slower to heal than you would have liked, and crutches would have been no help on the icy terrain around town. Joel demanded you remain at his home, long after Ellie returned. The teen regarded you laid up on the couch with an amused smirk. “It’s about time,” she remarks, a teasing grin playing on her lips.

Joel shoots her a dark glower, and she backs off, hands raised in defense. “I’ll be upstairs.” She shoots a final smirk directly at me before turning on her heel and bounding upstairs to go do whatever it is that teenagers do. Joel sighs, shaking his head and grumbling something about kids. You, however, are still stuck on Ellie’s comment.

“What did she mean by ‘about time?’” You ask.

Joel looks up from his hands, brow shooting up. “Er, who knows? Have you met Ellie? Who knows what she’s sayin’ half the time?” He tries to play it off, but you’ve spent enough time around Joel to know when he’s bullshitting. Still, though, you don’t care to dig too much, so you try and change the subject. “Joel? Would you mind grabbing the ice pack?” The request is simple. Usually, giving Joel something to make him feel helpful is the quickest way to dissolve any lingering tension.

Like clockwork, Joel rises and moves to the kitchen with a silent but relieved nod. When he returns, he makes his way to the couch and takes a seat, pausing to move your legs into his lap. He’s gentle as he moves you, taking care to support your weight evenly. Even the ice pack feels feather light when he presses it to your ankle. This had been your nightly routine for the past week, as Joel argued that you weren’t “icin’ it proper.” This had also led to more indignant protesting and a lot of red cheeks before you finally gave in.

You let out a tiny, relieved sigh as the ice pack soothes your injury, eyes falling closed. “Thanks, Joel…”

Joel grunts in response. “See? Feels nice to let someone finally take care of ya.”

You chuckle, butterflies fluttering about in your belly at his words. “Yeah, yeah… You know, you seem to like this more than you should.” Your tone is teasing. “Maybe you shoulda been a doctor.”

Joel hums in amusement. “Hmph. Nah, not for everyone, just… just you.”

The words are like an atomic bomb set off between you. Your eyes flutter open, finding Joel staring at the fire like he can’t believe what he’s just said. His muscles are rigid, the kind of frozen that appears when you’re hiding from something out on patrol. All you hear is the crackling of the fire and the steady beating of your heart in your ears. “Me?” You finally manage to gasp out.

It’s the reddest you’ve ever seen Joel. His eyes shoot from the flames to your face, and he releases a long, steady stream of air. He seems to be accepting his fate. “You.” With an awkward clearing of his throat, he focuses back on your ankle, adjusting the ice pack. There’s a tension in the air now, thick enough to cut. For a moment, you worry you’re misinterpreting things, but when Joel glances up at you, the truth is evident. He has something deeper on his mind.

“Y/N, I…” Joel treads cautiously, appearing hesitant to say the wrong thing. One of his hands cups your other ankle, lightly enough to be felt but not strong enough to keep you still. “I’m tired.” He clenches his jaw, determined. “I’m tired of dancin’ around this shit. I’m gettin’ too old for this.” He finally twists his head, gaze locking onto yours, challenging. “I care about you. More than I thought I would. More than I should. More than you probably know.” Those puppy dog eyes of his are relentless. “I like ya.”

Talk about atomic bombs.

You can’t suppress the sudden trembles that crop up across your body. All the feelings you’d been fighting with for so long are making their way out of the floodgates. All these months of patrol with Joel, of sneaking secret looks and dreaming of moments like this. The time spent in his home has only driven you closer and intensified those feelings. You’ve been growing to enjoy feeling taken care of, and Joel does it oh-so-well. “Joel…” You breathe, heart racing.

The man pauses his doctor routine to meet your eyes, and for the first time since you’ve met him, you see fear. It’s almost disconcerting. His hands remain close, ready to remove themselves at your word. He worries he’s gone past the point of no return now.

“I want you.”

The words send a shudder through Joel’s body. His breath comes out quicker, and his eyes take on a gleam of desire. It’s as if a weight has been loosened from his shoulders. Gently… tenderly… he leans closer, arm coming to steady your head in his giant paw of a hand. He pauses inches away, warm brown eyes searching yours earnestly. You feel his breath on your face, the heat of his body both heavy and comforting. The scent of his soap and that natural Joel smell that you crave so deeply.

“Please…” You breathe, afraid to blink lest the moment end.

“Gladly…” Joel closes the distance between you, capturing your mouth in a sweet, tender kiss. He’s surprisingly gentle, but you can feel the raw power in his body, barely kept at bay from sheer resolve. His scruff tickles your face, and it makes you shiver with delight. Emboldened, you take your hands and cup his cheeks, running your thumbs over the short, prickly follicles. Without meaning to, you release a low whine into his mouth.

Joel’s grip tightens, and he deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring the seam of your lips. When you part them to grant him access, you can feel his grin. Joel’s hands move down your torso, settling at your waist. His lips are soft and warm against yours, tasting slightly of whisky. It gives you a heady rush, your own hands fumbling at his chest to undo his top shirt buttons. You find his hand gripping your wrists, eyes on fire with utter desire.

“Are you sure?” His voice is calm, but it's tinged with a slight tremor, as if he’s on the verge of something.

“Joel…” You gaze up at him. “I’ve wanted you for so long…” The admission makes your cheeks burn, but you can see the pleased look on Joel’s face. Without another word, he scoops you up just as he had on the way back from patrol, heading to the stairs. He wordlessly strides up to the second floor, turning down the dark hall and entering his bedroom. As he gently sets you down on the mattress, he presses a gentle kiss to your ear. “I’m gonna take good care of you tonight, Darlin’,” he purrs.

You shiver, the anticipation spreading throughout your limbs. You cast a glance up at Joel, your expression one of hunger and desire, but also of vulnerability and trust. Joel seems pleased by this, and he rises once more to begin removing his shirt. You watch intensely as the worn fabric shrugs its way off of broad shoulders, sliding over python-like biceps and hitting the floor with a muted thump. Joel stands bare chested in front of you. Your eyes rake over his thick, strong neck, leading into a broad, muscular chest that dissipates into a softer tummy. Flecks of salt-and-pepper chest hair dot his torso, the heaviest concentration gathering in a condensed line heading from his navel and disappearing into his jeans. You swallow thickly, eyes locked on his belt. Your fingers itch to remove it yourself, but you force stillness while Joel continues his show.

His thick fingers have his belt out in no time at all, dropping his pants to the floor. Arousal floods you at the sight of his (presumably) heavy cock straining against the black fabric of his underwear. Even restrained, it was impressive. You felt your mouth fall open as you directed your gaze back up to his eyes. They were diligently trained on you, studying your body language like he was out on patrol. He steps free of his pants and approaches carefully, swinging a leg up on the bed to prowl up your body.

His heat blankets you in warmth, his weight a comforting feeling. Boxing you in with his forearms, he settles lower and kisses you softly. “This okay?”

You nod wordlessly, fingers already moving to your shirt buttons. Joel catches you and chuckles low, sitting up on his knees to help you out. Between the two of you, your shirt is off quickly. Opened up like plaid angel wings underneath your trembling frame.

“So beautiful…” Joel murmurs, settling back down and pressing soft, aching kisses to your chest. His beard pricks your skin, sending fire rushing down to your already straining member. He feels so warm and solid atop your body. The sensation is an unfamiliar but welcome one. Hesitantly, you clutch Joel’s rippling shoulder blades, admiring the tautness of the skin underneath your fingertips.

Joel’s lips find a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, making you buck softly, a low whine crawling its way out of your throat. “Oh!”

Joel grins wolfishly against your neck. “Oh?” His lips attack once more, teeth grazing the soft, supple flesh. “Does someone like that?” He nuzzles against the sensitive spot, breath hot and ready. His callused hands clutch and grip you tightly in place. “Sensitive, aren’t we?”

His teasing tone makes your heart flutter. It feels so good to give into this side of yourself, one that isn’t afraid to moan and squirm and show vulnerability. Something about Joel’s presence makes you feel it’s okay to let go and come fully undone. It’s a primal urge, a desire for truth. For something raw and exposed.

Joel’s hands pause on your sweatpants, teeth nibbling at my earlobe. “May I?” He growls.

You whimper once more, and Joel gives a low grunt of approval before undoing the drawstring and slipping them down over your hips. “You’re beyond beautiful like this…” He coos in praise, fingers trailing lightly over your exposed flesh. “I’ve wanted this for so long…” He leans down to press a tender kiss to your lips, leaving you dizzy.

Joel begins making his way down to help y fully shimmy out of my sweats before returning to hook his fingers into the waistband of your underwear. He shoots you one final look for consent, refusing to budge unless you give him an answer. You give him a nod, raising your hips to make it easier. Within an instant, your underwear is gathered around your ankles, and Joel is admiring you, fully exposed, beneath him.

His eyes lock onto your erection, currently bobbing and twitching, aching for any kind of contact. His tongue flits out and licks his lips before he shoots you a cheeky look. “Big boy…” He grins.The comment sends you blushing yet again, to which Joel responds with a hungry chuckle. He softly takes his hand, wrapping around your base, eyes meeting yours with a look of pure lust. The pressure makes you moan involuntarily, and your eyes squeeze themselves shut.

“Eyes on me,” Joel growls. “I wanna see you when I make you scream my name…”

Your eyes fly open, heart pounding so loudly you worry that Joel himself can hear it with his deaf ear. The commanding tone comes out of nowhere, sounding similar to how Joel presented himself to you during your first few patrols together. This time, however, it makes you even needier. “Joel…” You whimper.

Joel’s response is to grin and then wrap his lips around the head of your cock, sinking down and enveloping your arousal in his warm, velvety mouth. The sensation is like fireworks going off inside of your groin, and you can’t contain the moan that rips its way out, reverberating through the home. Thank god Ellie was out for the day.

Joel brings his mouth off long enough to shoot you a smirk. “Good boy…”

You shiver uncontrollably, lost in the throes of desire. You need more, and you need it now. Joel seems all-too-happy to comply as he envelops your cock in his mouth once more, this time taking you all the way to the base. He swirls his tongue around your shaft while one hand massages your inner thighs, fingers working their way lower and lower. It’s an overwhelming feeling, and your eyes practically roll back in your head. “Fuck!”

Joel moans his approval around your cock, the vibration sending even more pleasure rushing through you. He bobs his head up and down, intent on making this about you first and foremost. And oh, did he want you to come undone for him…

You cry out, overwhelmed by the sensations, tangling your fingers in his curls. He only increases his efforts, spurned on by your responses. You can feel the heat in your belly coiling and tensing, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of white hot bliss. You struggle to come up with the words to warn Joel. “J-Joel! I… I’m gonna… I-”

Joel brings his head off your dick, swiping his tongue down the side of your shaft. “What are you gonna do, Baby?” He purrs.

I whimper, bucking softly, arching my back into his touch. “Please… I wanna cum…”

The burning request makes Joel shiver, and a dark glint twinkles in his eye. “Oh, don’t worry, Darlin’...” He ignores your weeping cock and prowls over you like a panther until his eyes are locked right above your own. “I’m gonna get you there.” He gently grasps your hands and brings them to the waistband of his boxers. Sensing the intention, you eagerly hook your fingers in and lower them, freeing his cock. It swings down like a battle ax, heavy and swollen with desire. The sight makes your breath catch in your throat, already anticipating the feeling of him stretching you out.

“You want this, Darlin’?” Joel murmurs, hand brushing your cheek delicately. The motion causes you to turn your eyes back to his, fervent with lust.

“Y-yes…” You nod, hand reaching down to softly wrap around his hilt. The action makes Joel stiffen and gasp, sending a thrill through you. You hold him for a moment, eyes heavy through thick lashes. “Do you have… do you have any lube?”

Joel chuckles and reaches over into his nightstand drawer. “The perks of being on scavenge teams.” He withdraws a small bottle of something and returns to hover over you, slathering his fingers in the substance. “You ready?”

You nod breathlessly. “Please, Joel.” The request is simple but laced with need. The anticipation was killing you. You watch with careful eyes as Joel lowers his fingers, teasing his first digit near your entrance. His eyes lock onto your own, a silent command. You obediently hold his gaze and bite your lip when he begins to probe his way inside of you. You can’t help the shaking, nor can you help the soft moans. Joel fucking loves it, eyes shining with pride at each sound he coerces from your body. It’s been a while since he’s been with a guy, but it’s good to know he still has it. And this wasn’t just any guy… This was “Y/N.”

The sensation of Joel’s finger inside of you is soon joined by two, both working in tandem to stretch you out. It’s been a long time since you’ve done this, but Joel is patient and careful. He wants this to feel good for you. Nothing makes him more aroused than knowing he has that effect. And it’s been a long time for him as well.

“Joel… more!” You cry, bucking your hips. The feeling is too good now, and it’s all you can do to keep from thrusting yourself down on his fingers yourself.

“That’s it, Darlin’... Doin’ so good for me…” Joel purrs, introducing his middle finger to your hole. “So fuckin’ tight…”

His words have you gasping for air, clearly their intended effect, as Joel gives a pleased smile and presses a kiss to your lips. You kiss him back hungrily, teeth clashing, tongues fighting for dominance. Joel wins out, and you succumb to his touch willingly. It’s an easy thing to let go and pass him the reins at this point. He’s shown enough evidence at this point that he knows exactly what you need, even if you didn’t know yourself.

“That’s right, angel… let yourself go…” He encourages, shifting his hips to bring himself up close to your entrance. “Gonna make you feel so good…” He gently removes his fingers and aligns the head of his pulsing cock with your hole. He lets out a low hiss, his eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck… gonna make me feel so good…” His eyes open once- more long enough to lock gazes with you- before he grasps your thighs in both hands and gently pushes inside.

You cry out at the sensation of being stretched out by something larger than his fingers. “Fuck, Joel!” He feels massive, and it’s just the head. It really has been a minute.

Joel shushes you softly, leaning forward to pepper your face with kisses. “Doin’ so good, Darlin’...” He buries his face in your neck. “We’ll stay right here… long as you need.” His voice is steady and patient, but his body trembles with the effort of keeping himself only just inserted in you. The restraint is perhaps one of the hottest displays of affection you’ve seen in a long time.

You bite your lip, forcing yourself to relax more. “Just… kiss me… and take me…” You beg softly, willing Joel to look back. When he does, his expression is of amusement and arousal. He brings his face closer, lips finally meeting yours with a tenderness you’d come to expect. “Gladly…” He moans, and then he begins pushing the rest of the way inside of you. You gasp into his mouth, feeling his tongue swipe at your teeth in a carnal display of possession. He bottoms out and continues to kiss you, hands cradling the back of your head, hips locked into place. “You… feel so… good…” He groans. “Fucking hell…”

You whimper, allowing yourself to get used to the feeling of having Joel buried inside of you, stretching you out and filling you up. “Oh… Joel…”

Joel growls as you moan out his name, lips claiming yours once more in a passionate display of affection. “Fuckin’ love hearing you say my name like that…” He snarls. “Might have to keep ya around.” His hand grips the side of your ass roughly, but his eyes still carry that same tenderness underneath the arousal. You can feel your blood roaring in your ears at this point, carrying with it the pressure of wanting your release.

“Joel…” You whimper again, testing out the waters.

Joel groans, hips moving forward and pushing him impossibly deep inside of your walls. “Fuck, Darlin’... You don’t know what you do to me…”

You force back a pleased smile long enough to find his warm toffee gaze once more. “Please, Joel… I need you.”

Joel’s breath catches in his throat, a bead of sweat dripping from his temple. “Well, shit, sweetheart. That’s all you had to say.” He begins to pull out softly, stopping before he’s fully extricated, then pumping himself back into you with a resounding smack of skin against skin. The sound is absolutely obscene, and it makes Joel pick up the speed. His hips move quickly, back and forth, finding a rhythm that has the bed creaking and headboard knocking against the wall. You find your nails digging into Joel’s back, leaving small angry crescents across his back. The sensation makes him hiss and bury his face in your neck with a muffled howl of delight.

“Let me hear my name, Darlin’,” he pants, rhythm building, wanting to hear the delight he’s giving you.

Your good leg wraps around him, pulling him deeper. “Joel!” You mewl, vision obscured by heavy lids. With your legs around him, Joel is deeper than ever, the pressure of your tight walls around him almost too much to bear.

“Fuck…” He swears, his thrusts becoming more urgent, the sound of skin-against-skin filling the room. His lips seek yours, hungry and desperate as he guides you both to the brink. His chest is slick with sweat, a testament to the intensity of his actions. “Cum for me, Angel… Cum with my cock inside you…” He murmurs against your lips, his movements erratic, his own climax impending.

You feel yourself teetering over into that blissful oblivion as he shifts his hips one final time and begins hitting your sweet spot. The pleasure is blinding, and even though you’re sure you’re practically screaming his name, you can barely hear yourself as you reach orgasm. You’re sure you’ve never cum so hard in your life. As you do, you tighten around Joel’s pistoning cock, and he’s unable to prevent from filling you with his seed. You gasp at the sensation of load after load of Joel’s cum filling you, hot and thick. Joel shakes with the tremors of pleasure as he pumps out the last of his load, finally collapsing on top of you in one big sweaty mess.

“Goddamn…” he breathes, still impaling you with his cock.

You’re at a loss for words, reality slowly setting in as you realize you and Joel have just crossed into uncharted territory. But with the man’s comforting weight on you, arms wrapped protectively around your torso, you find it hard to be anxious. That’s a first. You find yourself speaking first after several moments of introspection.

“Did you mean what you said?”

Joel pauses at your sudden interjection, finding his eyes making their way over your bare torso and up to your gaze. “Did I mean what?” He asks. “Specifically?”

You feel a familiar tinge of embarrassment. “That you care for me…” You look away.

Joel hums a disapproving tone and reaches out to gently tilt your chin back to face him. “Of course, Darlin’. I’m not just trying to get my rocks off here, though…” He glances down at himself, still fully embedded inside of you. “Mission accomplished,” he grins cheekily.

The relief floods your body, easing tension you didn’t realize you were carrying. “Oh… good.” A faint smile crosses your lips. “I meant it, too.”

Joel gives you a small smile, hand reaching to caress your cheek softly. You lean into his touch, craving the gentle contact in such an intimate moment. “Good.”

You lay there for a while before Joel shifts, slowly removing himself from you. The sensation makes you hiss, and Joel himself groans until he’s finally extricated from you. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “Gonna get a shower goin’. I’ll come help you up when it’s ready.” And with that, he gives you a tender kiss on the lips and rises to pad off into the bathroom.

You remain on your back, gazing up at the ceiling and marveling at the turn of events. What does this make you? What will Ellie think? What will Tommy think? Hell, what will the town think? Anxieties plague your mind until Joel returns, and he can sense your discomfort.

“Hey now… what’s the matter?” He rushes over, sitting on the side of the bed and checking you over. “I didn’t hurt ya, did I?”

The comment brings a smirk to your face. “Only in the best way,” you chuckle. The joke relaxes Joel, but his eyes still carry concern, so you continue. “I guess… just wondering what people are gonna think, ya know? I know it’s stupid, but…” You trail off, looking down.

Joel’s hand takes yours, giving it a reaffirming squeeze. “For starters, I think people got bigger problems than whatever we do with ourselves.” He smirks. “God knows Ellie will have lots to say, but she’s the one that’s been ridin’ my ass about asking you out for the past three months.”

Suddenly, her comment (“It’s about time…”) makes sense to you. “Oh…” Then a blush crosses your face. “Months???”

Joel grins unexpectedly, ducking his head and running a hand through his curls. “Guess it took me a while to work up the nerve…” He looks sheepish.

“I broke my goddamn ankle!” You find yourself laughing suddenly, amused at the stupidity of it all. “We fight monsters out there almost every day, but we couldn’t even bring ourselves to just get a damn drink?”

Joel’s eye catches yours, the wrinkles at the corner growing deeper as his grin widens. “Well, how about it?” He asks, hand clutching your own and turning it over to inspect it with gentle eyes.

“How about what?” You tilt your head.

“That drink?” Joel’s gaze flicks up once more. “I’d say I owe you a few.”

You bite back a pleased smile, your heart swelling. “It’s a date.”

Joel grins, pleased, before ducking down and crushing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. His delight is palpable, and it may be the first time you’ve seen him this way. It seems he has as much opening up to do as you. But… as you feel his warmth and steadiness around you, you know that it’s only inevitable. Your ankle will eventually heal, and you’ll return to patrols with Joel. Things will go back to the way they were except for in the one way that matters most. Joel is never, ever, taking his eye off you again. And that’s a promise.

[babymetaldoll]

First day (Spencer Reid x fem!reader)

Part of the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge @aperrywilliams and I are hosting during October.

Event Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Summary: Spencer is having a lot of problems dealing with his daughter's first day of school. 

Word count: 1.720

Warnings: Just pure fluff 

A/N: Hey! this was so sweet to write, I hope you enjoy it. 

- “I’m not ready.” - I whisper as I look at my little five-year-old daughter preparing for her first official school day. She is putting all the snacks my wife got ready for her into her lunchbox, and we both stare at her in adoration from the other side of the kitchen counter.

Little Rose is ecstatic. She has been talking about this all week. We visited her classroom and met her teacher already, and since then, all she wants is to come back to school, learn, and make friends. 

- “I’m never gonna be ready.” - I add and my wife turns to me with a small smile as my eyes keep fixed on our baby girl. Of course, I know this is hard for her as well. Our girl is growing up too fast, life is passing us so quickly. 

- “It’s just her first day of school, not her first date. Though that might happen soon now that she will be meeting boys.” 

- “Are you trying to calm me down?”- I turn to her, frowning, and she just laughs, wrapping an arm around my waist. 

- “Absolutely not, but I love how you are freaking out so much.” 

- “Ready! Mommy! Daddy!”- Rosie yells and grabs her backpack. - “Let’s go to school!” 

- “Ok lovebug, we are coming.”- (Y/N) walks to her and makes sure all her things are packed correctly. Then, she helps our daughter put on her little jacket and shoes as I shake myself from my intrusive thoughts and follow their moves. 

My wife takes a few pictures of our daughter at our front porch holding a letter board that reads “Rosie’s first day of school” and somehow that makes it all even more real, and painful. It’s happening. My little girl is going to school. 

It’s a short ride from our house to Rosie’s primary school. In less than ten minutes, I’m parking the car outside, feeling the knot in my throat getting tighter as the time to let my baby girl alone is inevitable. 

- “Ready to learn, lovebug?”- (Y/N) takes our daughter from her chair and grabs her backpack. Rosie jumps, clearly excited, and I try to smile though I’m in fact, fighting the tears. 

- “Yes! I wanna learn!”

- “Dad and I will be waiting for you right here at four, ok?”- my wife assures her. Of course, we asked for the entire week off work, to join Rose on her first day and to be there for her in case of any adaptation issues during the first few days.   

- “Come here, lovebug.”- I kneel in front of her and wrap my arms around her, feeling her tiny hands on my neck.- “Do you want us to walk you to your classroom?”

- “Yes, Daddy! please!”

Finally, the answer I actually wanted to hear. But before we walk into the main hall, Miss Daisy welcomes us with a big smile and looks at our daughter. 

- “Hello there, little one! ready for your first day?”

- “Yes!”

I thought Rose would be nervous, I don’t know why, maybe ‘cos I wanted to believe she was going to be as terrified as I was of the unknown at her age. It’s so shocking to see she has grown so differently. So strong and independent. I know it’s a sign (Y/N) and I have done a good job as her parents. But still, it hurts to know she doesn’t depend on us as much as she did a few years ago. And it will only get worse from this day on. 

She is still just five years old, I know I’m getting ahead with these thoughts, but I can’t stop them. The only thing that takes me from my mind is Rosie’s hand, leaving mine. 

- “Bye, Daddy!”- and she waves as she takes a few steps closer to Miss Daisy. 

- “Parents are allowed only to this point.”- my wife explains, probably noticing I was absolutely lost in my own head. I kneel again and open my arms. 

- “One more hug for daddy!”- I request my daughter, and she replies running to me, giggling. The sound of those giggles can fix anything wrong in my life, I swear. 

- “I love you so much, lovebug. Be good today.”- I whisper and kiss her cheeks a few times. 

- “Yes, Daddy.”

(Y/N) wraps her arms around our daughter, kissing her and wishing her a good day. She also takes a few more pictures as Rose walks the hall with the teacher and a few more kids. She is already talking with another little girl. I would have never done that. My daughter is already stronger and better than me. That makes me feel proud. 

Nevertheless, that doesn’t stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. I have to bite my lips not to burst out crying in that school lobby. My wife wipes her own tears as I wrap an arm around her, the two of us still staring at our little girl, walking away from us, not looking back once the entire time. 

- “I wasn’t ready.”- I whisper and sigh. (Y/N) rests her head against my arm in silence for a few seconds. 

- “I knew it was going to be painful.”- she finally whispers.- “And I know it’s normal, but still, it’s such a big reality check to watch her walking away from us.” 

We both sigh and stare until our daughter is out of sight. I hold her hand as we start walking back to the car and somehow, I feel a little empty now that Rose isn’t here. 

- “Wanna grab coffee?”- my wife asks as we get into the car.- “Technically, we have the entire day for us.”

- “Coffee sounds great, honey.”  

I drive us to our favorite place, and as we sit to wait for the waitress, I speak my mind. 

- “Do you think she is ok?” 

- “Yes. You know if there was anything wrong they would call us.”

- “I know… but, what if she is struggling to tell the teacher she isn’t feeling good?”

- “When has Rose Diana Reid not spoken her mind?”- (Y/N) asks and smiles.- “That little girl has a very strong voice, and you know it. She convinced you to eat more greens for your health.”

I chuckle and just nod. The waitress finally arrives and gets our order and once we are alone again, (Y/N) holds my hand upon the table and asks.   

- “Why are you so worried?”

I pause and look at her, knowing she is fully aware of my high school experience and how painful it had been. So I guess, though it’s obvious, I should just get it off my chest.  

- “What if… what if someone is mean to her?”- (Y/N) squeezes my hand and smiles at me sweetly. 

- “If that ever happens, and I’m sure it will not, she knows what to do. Starts with “kick” and ends with “asses”, just like we taught her.”

I chuckle at those words. She is right about it, we have taught our little kid to be strong and stand her ground. But yet, I can’t help but be worried. She is my baby. 

- “I know, but I just don’t want her to go through any of the things I did when I was in school.” 

- “Stop projecting.”- my wife says and holds my hand.

- “I am not.”

- “Yes, you are. You just have to trust we’ve given her all the tools she needs to stand up for herself. She is not a baby anymore, she is a girl. A very smart, sweet, and strong girl.”

- “Just like her mother.”- I whisper and my wife just smiles. 

- “You are smart, sweet, and strong as well, Spencer.” 

I just smile and stare at her. 

- “I love you so much.”- the words come out as a whisper, probably ‘cause I feel so emotional at the moment I think I might start crying. It’s not my best moment. By far. 

- “I love you too, Spencer.”- (Y/N) smiles at me and scoots closer to kiss my cheek.- “I think I have something that might cheer you up.”

- “What?”

My wife just stares at me in silence, smiling for a few seconds, before she starts talking again. 

- “I think the reason why you are so sad about Rose going to school is because she is growing up too fast and she is not your baby anymore.”

- “There is no need to shove it on my face.”- I reply and pretend to be in pain. (Y/N) opens her bag and takes an envelope. 

- “So this might make you feel better.”

- “What is it? Is everything ok?”- I ask her as I start reading.

- “Everything is perfect” 

- “Your HCG levels are so high”- I mumble as I read the results. She just smiles and nods. I read the exam in a second, but the information doesn’t seem to make sense.

- “But… does.. is it?”- I look at her in shock and she just smiles. 

- “I’m six weeks pregnant, Spencer. So get ready for baby Reid number two.”

I wide open my eyes as I hear her say those words. My heart is rising inside my chest and I hold her close to my body, not believing what is happening. 

- “Are you sure?”

- “Very sure, honey.”

- “My god, I love you so much!”- I say and kiss her lips as soon as I can. She giggles and kisses me, but the waitress appears that moment with all our food and we have to move apart for a moment at least. 

- “When did you first know?”

- “I was late and had scheduled an appointment with my doctor already, so I thought, what the hell, let’s make a test. And when it came positive I knew I had to wait for a special moment to tell you.” 

- “So you waited until I was having a serious meltdown during our daughter’s first day at school?”- and she just smiles and nods. - “I love you so much.”

- “I love you more.”

- “I seriously doubt it.”