#maybe that will remind me I'm in a process and i can just go straight to where i want without know the basics
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#welcome to the panic room#something inspired on the music cover#I don't know if i like it or not#actually I starting to understand i need to stop being so ashamed of my learn process#like i got into a point i hate all my drawings because i remember that (some artist) make much better#like it's obvious they do better they had practice for years and I'm just a fuckin' beginner#I might try to post everything here. from my awful copies - with the ib from the original of course - to the doodles i do#maybe that will remind me I'm in a process and i can just go straight to where i want without know the basics#anyway just needed to vent#luka vents#skretch#luka shitty art
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wait your new hotch blurb got me thinking what about they got secretly married and everyone knows that hotch is married they just don’t know it’s to bau!reader because he seemed very genuine in the wanting privacy so (after complaining) they respected that, and maybe one of the team members sees hotch and bau!reader kissing in the hallway of a hotel or something and confront him about cheating on his wife
"How could you cheat on your wife?"
Penelope's harsh, degrading accusation hits Aaron directly in the chest, through the layers of stoicism that he's come to forge over the years of working in criminal investigation and straight to his heart.
All Hotch can manage is a, "What?", and Penelope's eyes dim further.
"Don't do that, Hotch. I saw you. I saw you and Y/N kissing in your office. How could you do that to your wife?"
She looks so crestfallen that Aaron's chest actually aches, so unprepared to see the famously bubbly Penelope Garcia close to tears. Close to tears because of him, no less.
Aaron might have chosen his words more carefully if he hadn't been so startled by Penelope's unusual devastation, but his jumbled brain forgoes its job and his mouth takes over, uttering the thoughtless statement, "That's- that's what she's there for."
And in his mind, it's true, if not the complete truth. You are there for him to kiss, you're there to be kissed and loved and appreciated and cherished, but he's momentarily forgotten that Penelope doesn't know that you and his mystery wife are the same person, and his words so easily warp into possessiveness and disregard.
Her face contorts into a mixture of disgust and rage that could take out a serial killer, and he seriously considers recruiting her as Chief Lecturer of the BAU, "Hotch? How- how could you say that? That your wife is just- just some thing to wait on you while you run off with someone else? You- Aaron, I can't believe you, I thought you were better than that!"
She tries storming away, tears budding in her eyes but Aaron catches her elbow, ignoring the way she flails and squirms at his touch.
"Let go of me!" She tearily demands, but he grabs her by the other arm now, holding both of her shoulders.
"No, Penelope, listen-" He tries, reminding himself to send her to Derek later for a self-defense lesson, because the weak shoves that she's pushing at his chest with do very little.
"No! No, I'm tired of listening to men," She shrieks, "You were supposed to be better than that, Aaron! I trusted you, you were supposed to be the kind of man that I could admire, and- but you're not! You're just like the rest of them, you're some egotistical, possessive, heavy-handed, domineering son of a-!"
"Y/N is my wife." Aaron cuts her off, his voice slightly raised, but not harsh. Never harsh, not to the sniffling mess of ruffles and glitter in his arms that handed him her resume on pink stationary all those years ago.
She falls silent, finally, but her lips still tremble. Aaron squeezes her arms tighter, not rough but comforting, "Y/N is my wife. We married privately late last year. We kept it secret for safety reasons, but I'll admit we didn't need to hide it from all of you. I was not cheating on my wife, I would never-" He thinks momentarily of Haley, of the gut-wrenching sound of her cell phone ringing with a call she wasn't brave enough to answer in front of him, "I would never do that to Y/N."
It's a lot of new information to process, and Aaron grants Penelope all the time she needs to work through it. When her red-stained lips part again she breathes, "You married Y/N?"
"I did." Aaron nods, and though it's not the time to smile, he can't help that a ghostly one flits over his features at the mere thought of the day he'd married you, "I'll show you pictures when we're done here. Penelope, you can trust me. I don't blame you for accusing me- in fact, I'm glad that you did. I'm glad that your loyalty isn't blind. But Y/N is my wife, and that's why I kissed her."
A very wobbly, "Oh." Is all that Penelope can manage, and she sniffles again, staring at his tie rather than his face as he holds her steady in the hallway. He's glad that they've both shown up early for the day, but you're due to return with coffee for the three of you any minute now, and he offers her his pocket square to wipe beneath her eyes.
"You said-" She chokes out sheepishly, voice unsteady as she smears the tears off of her cheeks, "You said you have pictures?"
That's how you find them when you return, seated on the couch in his office peering down at his phone. You have to set the tray you'd been carrying down on Aaron's desktop before you can properly greet either of them, but you're immediately alarmed by the tears streaked over Garcia's cheeks when she stands to face you.
"You-" She starts, not giving you a second to speak, "-are a rat! You got married," She gushes, and Aaron chuckles deeply from beside her, standing and pocketing his phone.
"You got married to our boss, and you told me nothing," She hisses, but slumps so easily into your chest for a hug that you're more than willing to give her.
"I'm sorry, Penny," You gush, squeezing her tight, "We just- we were worried about safety. The more people we told, the more dangerous it would become, so we didn't share it with anyone. But- but we should have told the team, I know."
She sniffles and you draw back to pick up her drink from behind you, sugary and pink and topped with a thick layer of whipped cream, "I got you a drink. Forgive me?"
"Reluctantly," She tries scowling, but she's never been very good at it. She takes the drink from you huffily, jamming the straw inside and taking a drag at the thick liquid. It's barely nine in the morning, far too early for the concoction she's sipping, but she nods after she draws back from the straw.
"This is delicious," She decides, "And you two are traitors, and I'm telling everyone about this."
"You should," Aaron laughs, stepping up behind you to press his shoulder to your own. It's comforting just having him there, and you relax against him as Penelope takes her leave.
"I mean it," She warns, wiping another stray tear from her cheek and sipping at her strawberry drink, "I'm telling everyone. I'm- I'm gonna hire some guy to fly a plane over the city, and the banner is gonna say, 'Y//N Y/L/N and Aaron Hotchner got married without me'."
"That's fair," You nod, not bothering to bite back a grin as she lingers in the doorway of Aaron's office.
"And so help me god," She narrows her eyes at you, once more falling just short of intimidating, "If you try to take some extended-sick-leave time, and I find out you're hiding a pregnancy from me? No amount of frappuccinos in the world will make up for it!"
"Noted," You call out as she leaves, and Aaron's hand comes up to press against the near-indiscernible bulge of your belly before the door even clicks shut.
"She's good." Aaron observes, and you reach for your own non-caffeinated drink with a grin that's hard to drink through.
"Let's tell her about the baby at lunch," You propose, "I think she's more than earned a secret to keep."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner scenario#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner one-shot#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner headcanons#aaron hotchner headcanon#aaron hotchner hc#aaron hotchner hcs#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner dialogue#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction
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satoru got his big break with the library desk employee. so what? university!suguru lost the bet, sure, but for some reason his interest in you didn't leave his mind. he'd known his best friend was crushing hard since the first time they'd entered the library and the pretty student smiled at satoru from behind the front desk.
i think i'm in love. suguru, hunched over a chemistry textbook, glances at satoru from the corner of his eye.
it's literally their job to make you feel welcome, genius.
but what if they, like, truly love me? he's dumbfounded by his friend's rose-colored delusion.
you're a doofus.
he continues thinking about it long after the study session concludes (a one sided session, since satoru insisted how he could woo the front desk assistant for the next two hours) and follows his normal routine of heading to the rec center to blow off some steam. he barely thinks twice about scanning the barcode on his phone at the entrance gates when the hairs on the back of his neck stand stick-straight. someone is watching him.
he scans the lobby and finds a pair of eyes across the floor, halfway hidden by a large counter for the member services desk. the eyes disappear before he can register who exactly was staring and you hope he didn't spot you as you duck behind the safety of the counter. suguru narrows his eyes but doesn't think twice about it.
the following week is when he makes the bet and hatches his plan to get satoru to shut up and take some of his money in the process. it felt like an easy victory: suguru knew he wasn't terrible looking, and you must've been interested considering how much you stared at him. he wasn't big on the school's dating scene and reserved his limited energy for whatever makeouts he found at his frat house's parties; to him, winning your naive affection would be a piece of cake. all he had to do was get your number and satoru's money would be his. simple enough, is what he thought.
but for the life of him, he could not catch you.
since the day he caught you staring, he noticed every time he entered the gym that you were looking and would duck away before he could so much as blink. at first, he lingered and waited for you to pop back up from behind the counter, but ended that strategy when he was asked if he was loitering on the property. the one time he approached the counter, you had conveniently disappeared to throw the intramural jerseys into the dryer...for the ten minutes he was waiting around for you to return. again, he was accused of loitering and forced to move on.
any progress with the rec worker? satoru whispered as he browsed for an interesting-enough looking book that he can make up small-talk over. he picks up a random one, something about technological advancements in ancient china, and tucks it under his arm.
i wish, suguru lamented. it's like they know i see them and are purposefully avoiding me so they don't have to talk to me.
i told you, i'd give you 'worst resting bitch face' if we could choose senior superlatives in high school, satoru reminds him with a thoughtful expression. also, you're in a frat! frat guys' reputation on campus isn't exactly the cleanest.
you're saying i need to look nicer? he examines his hoodie decorated with large iron-on patches of his frat's greek letters. it didn't look too dirty, he'd run it in the wash just last sunday...
i'm saying you need to look friendlier and less like a fuckboy.
oh. makes sense.
that's rich coming from you, suguru counters without acknowledging that maybe his friend was right. if he was going to woo you and hopefully knock down satoru's ego a few notches, he needed to be a little less...frat-like?
wordlessly taking the advice, he skips the loud philanthropy week shirt and opts for a plain muscle tee for his next gym session. black shirt and grey sweatpants shouldn't be too arrogant, right? he even practices his smile in the toothpaste-stained bathroom mirror until it's warm enough to save the titanic from the iceberg. tying his hair back so you can see all of his friendly face, he doesn't give you a moment to duck away when he steps through the doors at exactly 5:30pm.
he turns his head as soon as he steps into the air conditioning.
you're already staring.
he stares right back for a moment before pulling the corners of his mouth up ever so slightly, just like he practiced.
you gasp slightly and he thinks today is the day that you finally let him approach you.
unfortunately, his clothes, hair, face, and smile are enough to induce a nosebleed.
fuck!
by the time he rushes to the counter, eyes wide with panic, you've already shuffled away into the back and another worker informs him of your bloody-faced status. a little coyly than to go unnoticed, he notes to himself, but accepts his loss anyway and plans how to try again the next day.
after two weeks of putting on his plainest clothes, tying his cleanest hairdos, practicing his warmest smiles, and hurrying his fastest steps to get to the counter, suguru is absolutely ashamed to report that he's made zero progress.
interestingly enough, other girls at the gym had started to notice his changes in behavior and wardrobe, but he couldn't muster any energy to return their flirtations as they brush their fingers against his exposed biceps. all he could think about is you, and the way your eyes seem to sparkle when he meets them from across the lobby. he's snuck glances at the pens you abandon when you escape, the stickers on your water bottle, and the way you wear a special button on your uniform shirt every friday. you seem to always have a granola bar wrapper lingering on the desk, the same flavor each day but changing every week. he was learning so much about you without ever uttering a word, and it was killing him.
when satoru announces triumphantly that he finally got a date with the library attendant, suguru doesn't even blink. with his lack of progress, it was only a matter of time before his plan ultimately backfired and satoru was the true, smug winner of the bet. still, despite the earnings paid and the yapping continued, suguru wanted to talk to you. he wanted to learn about your interests, your goals, your life. he wanted to solve your mystery that he'd unknowingly forced himself into, and he'd be damned if he didn't at least get your name before the semester ended.
after months of waiting for you to talk to him, he swallows his pride and goes to the gym half an hour early.
"hi," he says carefully while you finish up whatever was on your computer screen.
"hi there, how can i help y--" when you finally meet his eyes, your practiced smile drops into pure shock and you take several moments to snap your face back into place. "i...um...how can i--oh!" you whirl around to your nearest coworker at a whiplash-causing speed, rambling quickly about how you forgot to inflate the volleyballs for the playoffs or some bullshit. thankfully, your coworker just blinks at you and then says that they can take care of it, patting your shoulder reassuringly and giving suguru a knowing look. before he knows it, it's you and him, just the moment he's been waiting for, and he has no idea what to say.
"i'm sorry that i--"
"i was wondering if you--"
you both tumble over your words at the same time and he chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. his bicep flexes with the motion and he catches your eyes rake it over. fearful of another nosebleed, he drops his arm abruptly and blurts out whatever words he can before you can scurry away.
"get dinner with me."
"i-i'm sorry?"
"i was wondering if you wanted to, you know," he shrugs sheepishly and is suddenly glad that none of his friends are there to tease his embarrassment, "get dinner sometime."
"you want to go on a date with me," you echo in disbelief. he nods slowly like any sudden movement would frighten you. "but...but why?"
"i think you're really pretty," he replies simply.
"but i've been hiding from you for the past--"
"two months, one week, and four days," he finishes for you before he can think about what he's saying. "i mean, not that i'm counting." your face finally breaks its shell of surprise and you burst out laughing. suguru thinks it's the best sound he's ever had the privilege of experiencing.
"so, just to be clear," you confirm when you've caught your breath. "i've been avoiding talking to you because seeing you look so good gives me nose bleeds. and now you want to get dinner with me?"
"i can bring copious amounts of tissues just in case, but yes." his expression becomes gravely serious, like he was giving you a request on his death bed. "please, say yes."
if it meant seeing how brightly you smiled when you finally murmur a yes, he would go through the entire bet with satoru three times over.
here u go @damb-it <3 hope you like it - sincerely, a library guest services attendant
#suguru x reader#suguru x you#suguru x y/n#geto x you#geto x reader#geto x y/n#suguru geto x you#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x y/n#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#geto fluff#suguru fluff#jjk fluff
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Tess's Treasures
18+, MDNI
Pairing: Tess x Joel x OC!Female x Female!Reader Summary: After perfecting the art of pickpocketing, you’re invited to join Tess’s Treasures. They’re infamous around the QZ and the initiation process is not what you expect, but exactly what you need. CW: If you’re not into foursomes/bi girl shit then you are in the wrong place. MFFF, bisexual females, fingering, masturbating, oral, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink. Unprotected p in v. Overstim and squirting. Please read this at your discretion. If this isn’t for you, that’s perfectly fine. AN: You can thank @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for being good little girls and filling my mind with depraved and twisted thoughts. This fic has truly been a labour of love, taking me almost 6 weeks to put together and edit. I'm not the least bit sorry about the word count, grab a snack, probably some electrolytes and maybe some spare batteries lol. Special shoutouts to @pedritoferg for their kind words when my imposter syndrome had the best of me. As always, dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Friendly reminder that I'm phasing out my tag list, follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for new fics.
Word Count: 9005
Becoming one of Tess’s Treasures seemed like a fallacy, a pipe dream. A fairytale life only reserved for the most vicious females that prowl the shady streets of the Boston QZ, and you aren’t a killer. A thief, yes; but not a killer. Truthfully, you weren’t even sure if the organization existed. Sure, Tess was a real person, but did she actually have a horde of women she called her Treasures?
She was infamous in the seedy underbelly of Boston, her and her henchman Joel. Granted, no one ever seemed to see Joel, unless he was about to kill you. And sometimes not even then, he was often hiding in the shadows, shadows darker than the demons that allegedly haunted him.
Outbreak day happened when you were just little, you don’t remember much of the journey from your old hometown to Boston. Everyone here is poor, doing what they can to get credits to buy basic human needs; making trades and swaps were what most people did. You, however, were much more clever. After discovering a book detailing the art of sleight of hand you started practicing, and now you can take anything, right in front of someone's eyes, without them noticing.
Or so you thought. After stealing a pistol from a FEDRA officer and replacing it with a banana, all while having a conversation with him in broad daylight, Tess approaches you.
“Come to my apartment next week. I wanna see if you have what it takes. Mum’s the word.” It’s a hushed whisper as she passes you, slipping a small card in your back pocket as she goes.
You follow the cards' instructions, arriving at the exact time, going up to the top floor and then doing two quick, sharp knocks on the worn out door.
“Enter,” Tess says from inside. The door creaks on your way in. It’s the hottest day Boston has seen in years, and even in your small sundress, the room is stifling hot. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and something else that you can’t quite put your finger on. There’s a fan oscillating in the corner, the paint chipped off the cage that protects the blades. As it blows warm air past you, you realize that the other smell is sex.
Tess is sitting on the couch to the right of the door, two mismatched wooden kitchen chairs in front of her. Straight ahead from the door is a small kitchen, and to the back left of the studio style apartment is the bed. Unmade, sheets tousled like someone just woke up, but based on the heady taste of the air in the room, the messy sheets are definitely from two people rolling around in them.
“Come sit,” Tess says firmly. You click the door shut behind you and head to the empty chair that’s waiting for you. The other chair is occupied by a small brunette woman. She has long slender limbs and doesn’t look like someone who would hang out with raiders, poachers and drug runners. Her hands are folded in her lap, ankles crossed under the chair. She doesn’t look over at you.
Tess leans forward, spreading her denim clad legs wide and resting her elbows on her knees. “Do you two know who I am?”
You both nod slowly. Up close, Tess is terrifying. She could have you killed with just a snap of her fingers, and Joel would do it however she wanted. From what you’ve heard, very slowly was her favourite way to have people eliminated from this earth. Quick deaths weren’t something she enjoyed when someone had fucked her over.
“Speak!” she commands. The brunette jumps and even though you’ve mastered the art of pushing your fears down and masking your emotions, a small butterfly flaps its wings behind your navel.
“Yes,” you say hoarsely as a meek ‘yes ma’am’ sounds beside you.
“Good. So then you know the….perks of being one of my Treasures,” Tess’s eyes twinkle as she says perks like she knows something you don’t. Like it’s more than the better living arrangements, food and medical care. Better than a sense of family and belonging.
She continues, “I’ve seen both of you at work. You,” her steel grey eyes are laser focused on yours, “With your quick hands, and you,” she adjusts her attention to the petite woman beside you, “With your ability to talk a man into almost anything. Before you can officially call yourself my Treasures, there’s a small matter of your…” Her voice trails, mouth ticking up on one side as she cocks her head and drags her eyes across both of your bodies.
“Well, your initiation.” She leans back onto the couch, knees falling wider. One arm drapes across the back, the worn cushion deflating slightly. The other rests on her thick, toned thigh. “I take care of my girls, but they need to show me that they can listen.”
The air seems thicker, and harder to fill your lungs with. Every move of her eyes is suggestive. Is she saying what you think she’s saying? You feel yourself begin to soak through your panties at the possibility of getting to fuck.
You aren’t left wondering for long as she points a long finger at the girl beside you, “Stand up, take off your clothes.”
“W-what?” the girl sputters.
“I said to stand up and take off your fucking clothes,” the words almost seem to burn as she repeats herself.
The girl stands so quickly that the chair falls, making a loud crash against the worn hardwood flooring. She stares at Tess for a moment, unsure if she should pick up the chair before she decides against it and pulls her blue cotton baby tee off, revealing a lacy white bra underneath.
“That’s it,” Tess groans. “Take off those little shorts next.”
With shaky hands she moves to the button fly, each drag of the metal on denim seems to echo in the silent room. Tess licks her lips as she slides her shorts down her legs and kicks them to the side. “Come here,” Tess says, her voice already husky and deep. The woman walks over to Tess, stopping between her spread legs. Tess’s strong fingers grip the girl's hips and she gasps. “Turn around,” she urges, dragging her fingers along her hips as the mystery girl spins.
“What’s your name?” Tess asks. The girl's bright green eyes land on you and you see her breath hitch in her slender throat. She’s petite, probably a few inches shorter than you and at least a foot shorter than Tess. You’ve always been attracted to both men and women and there’s no denying that this little stranger is absolutely stunning.
“Lydia,” she croaks.
“Are you nervous, Lydia?” Tess asks, cupping the globes of her ass in her hands, kneading and squeezing. Spreading them gently, exploring what she’s about to claim as hers.
She nods her head and lets out a shaky moan of agreement.
“Go pick up your chair and sit down, Lydia.” Tess swats her bum as she walks away and Lydia yelps quietly.
Tess’s eyes now come to you. Staring straight into your soul. I’m sure if she could, her eyes would incinerate your clothes right off of you. It’s intoxicating. You, unlike Lydia, are not nervous. Not in the slightest. If anything, Tess’s attention on you only makes you wetter. Your panties are practically soaked through already. “And you, my little thief. What’s your name?”
You say your name confidently and squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease some of the ache that Tess’s newfound attention is bringing to the apex of your thighs.
Tess whispers your name back at you and it sends a shiver down your spine. She continues, “Get on your hands and knees and crawl to me.”
Lydia swallows loudly beside you as you drop to the floor, crawling seductively to Tess, head held high. The worn hardwood planks creak under your weight. Even the floor is warm and sticky from the weather. You make it to her, sitting back on your heels like the good little girl you are. She leans forward and tugs on the hem of your dress and her syrupy voice says, “Arms up”. You lift your ass slightly and she slips your dress up and over your head. It was too hot for a bra today so you’re left in just a lacy pink thong.
“Mmmm, look at those pretty tits,” Tess hums, her fingers gliding along the plush soft skin of your breasts before ghosting over your nipples making the arm whoosh from your lungs. “You like that? Me touching your nipples.”
You breathe out a yes, eyes shutting as she pinches your pebbled buds roughly. “Oh god, yes.”
The old worn couch groans as Tess sits back, “Go take her bra and panties off.”
You climb to your feet and walk over to Lydia, holding out a hand and helping her stand. You move behind her and trail your fingers down the soft skin of her spinal column before popping the clasp of her bra. Lydia slides it off her body, arms crossing to block her now exposed breasts. Goosebumps rise across her from head to toe. You shush her and rub up and down her arms. Lydia relaxes under your touch and she drops her arms, Tess nods at you once, a silent encouragement to continue. You get down on your knees, hooking your index fingers in the waistband of her panties and sliding them down. Her round ass is in your face, she smells like fresh linen and rain. You fight the urge to kiss the sensitive little spot right where her ass crack starts.
“So fucking beautiful. Sit back down, Lydia.” Tess says and you want to cry out in protest. Her body is so enticing, soft and warm. She focuses back on you and says, “Stand in front of Lydia so she can take your panties off.”
You stand gracefully, biting your bottom lip as you maneuver yourself in front of Lydia. “Spread your legs,” you whisper, determined to help her so you can put on the best show for Tess. Lydia parts her knees and you twirl to face Tess, gathering your hair in one hand as Lydia slides your soaked panties down your legs. You kick them to the side and seductively drop your hair, smiling sweetly at Tess.
“Sit,” Tess barks. Lydia gasps behind you, but you like this; being told what to do. Commanded. Used. Tess continues after you sit, “I want you both to touch yourselves. Show me how you like it, but don’t come. You haven’t earned that yet. Understood?”
“Yes ma’am,” Lydia says, looking down at her hands. You nod eagerly, already sliding your ass to the edge of the chair and spreading your legs wide for her. Tess stares at your glistening core hungrily, leaning forward again to rest her muscular forearms on her knees. Her hair falls forward and frames her face. Her expression is hard, like you don’t want to disobey her in these moments. Brows are slightly knit together, lips in a thin line. She looks beautiful and dangerous, but as you bring your pointer and ring fingers to your entrance she softens a little, cocking her head to the side slightly.
Lydia keeps her legs closed, slipping a finger down her slit and rubbing slowly from side to side. She whimpers silently beside you, glancing at you nervously. Your fingers easily slip inside of your soft, dripping hole.
Tess’s eyes dance between the two of you. “Two very different girls,” she says to the room, neither of you stopping what you’re doing, both determined to become a part of her Treasures. “One of you seems shy, but I can work with that. Help you get out of your shell. And then there’s you,” her focus locks on you as she gets up with a grunt and saunters over to you. “You are a little whore, aren’t you? So eager to please.”
You feel yourself getting wetter at her attention and mean words. She pets your head lightly a few times, laughing quietly at how you lean into her touch, your eyes fluttering closed. Just as your lashes hit your cheeks she grabs a handful, pulls hard and gets within inches of your face. “You’re going to be a problem, aren’t ya?”
“No,” you gasp, your orgasm right on the precipice, so you slow your motions. “I’ll be good, Tess.”
“Did I say you could slow down?”
“I - I’m gonna come,” you whine.
“No, you’re not. You just told me you’d be good. And good girls don’t come until they’re told.” She releases your hair and you suck in a breath. Tess’s presence is palpable, she seems to take up all the space and air in the apartment by just being here. “Do NOT come, that’s an order.”
Just as the last sentence leaves her mouth the door opens and the apartment gets smaller, like your whole existence is being put in a vacuum sealer. The deep chuckle that comes from whoever just entered makes your scalp prickle, but you keep your focus on Tess.
“What’re we doin’ here, Tess?” The voice is deep, with a slight southern accent highlighting an occasional word. It can only belong to one man, the only man allowed near Tess’s Treasures. Joel Miller. He’s feared and revered in the Boston QZ. Runs the drug trade that keeps both FEDRA and the seedy underbelly running. You’ve never seen him before, but you’ve heard stories.
“Recruits,” Tess says, walking over to Lydia, crouching in front of her. “This one is shy. The other one - well, I might need your help with her.”
Your clit feels like it’s zapped with electricity at her threatening promises and you moan loudly, pausing your fingers that have been plunging in and out of you as per Tess’s requests. “See,” she says flatly, hands massaging Lydia’s plush tanned thighs.
You hear Joel’s heavy footsteps as he walks towards you, you can feel his heat and smell the tobacco coming off his skin. When he steps into your line of vision everything blurs. He’s beautiful and dangerous, but overall he’s the most incredible specimen you’ve ever seen. Your brain seems to go blank, like a hard reset, until all you see and smell and care about is Joel. You keep your eyes locked on his face, his brows crease, lips pressed tightly together. He plants his hands on his hips as his coffee and whiskey eyes slowly trail down your body. When he gets to your soaked and swollen pussy he licks his lips. “You gonna let her come?” He asks Tess but doesn’t take his eyes off you.
The fog clouding your brain clears and you glance towards Lydia and Tess. She has her legs spread and Tess is smiling encouragingly up at her, hand on top of hers, teaching her where to touch.
“She can come when she’s earned it. Lydia’s earned it though. Haven’t you?” She nods at Lydia as she squirms in the wooden kitchen chair. “That’s it, show us.”
Lydia speeds the up and down motion of her hand sloppily, you can hear the wetness as her movements become more erratic. Joel’s eyes haven’t left you, still watching you fuck your fingers in and out of yourself, almost mesmerized by you.
“Tess,” Lydia murmurs.
“Go ahead, baby. Come for me. Let me see that pretty little pussy twitch.”
Lydia’s body starts to shake as she cries out, her hand slowing as she whines and moans, “Oh god. Oh god. Yesyesyes.”
You peel your eyes away from her and squeeze every muscle in your body as tightly as you can, holding on, not letting yourself come. Looking at Joel makes it nearly impossible not to tip over that very tantalizing edge, so you clamp your eyes shut. “Tess,” Joel says, his voice a baritone whisper. “You’re torturing this one, look at her.”
He’s right, she is torturing you; but, what Joel doesn’t know is that you love it. You love being denied just as much as you love being used. You love being pinned down or tied up. You love having your throat or pussy or ass fucked in any and all positions known to humankind. The world is a dark and horrible shit show, but sex? Ya, sex makes you feel alive.
“Torturing her would be not letting her touch herself at all. She should be thanking me.” Tess turns her attention back to Lydia, helping her stand up and pulling her to the couch. “You did such a good job for me. You looked stunning as you fell apart.”
You open your eyes at the movement of them. They stop and stand facing each other in front of the couch as Tess removes her shirt, her breasts are small and perky with light pink nipples. Joel looks away from you, staring appreciatively at the woman he’s sworn to protect. She pops the button on her jeans. “Take them off her, Lydia. Tess shouldn’t have to work this hard,” Joel commands.
You whimper at the timbre of Joel's voice when he’s giving instructions and his eyes whip back to you. “You like that, don’t you? Being told what to do.”
“Yes, oh god, please can I come Tess,” you cry, eyes still locked with Joels.
“Lydia is going to lick my pussy, Joel is going to move out of the way so I can see you, and when I say you can come I want you to be loud. I want to hear those slutty little moans. Got it?”
Joel doesn’t hesitate, stepping behind your chair. He must be leaning over you because you swear you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear. Tess sits on the couch and tugs at Lydia’s wrist gently, encouraging her to kneel in front of her. “Come on,” she whispers and then places her finger at the top of her pussy. “Just lick and kiss right here. You can do it.”
Lydia moves slowly, giving you a knowing glance over her shoulder as she gets into Tess’s desired position. You suddenly realize that she’s more clever than you initially thought. She’s not shy, she knows exactly what she’s doing. Tess likes to lead, so she acted like she needed the guidance. And now she’s come and you haven’t. Tess’s head falls back, jaw going slack as Lydia tastes her.
“Does that turn you on?” Joel whispers, his warm breath hitting your neck. “Seeing Tess being eaten out. She deserves that every day, you know. She’s gonna take such good care of you, so you better care for her.”
“I will,” you mumble. “I’ll do whatever she needs. Whenever. Fuuuuck.”
“Look how wet you’re getting, I don’t think you can hold it for much longer.” He’s taunting you now. “Little thing loves to come, doesn’t she?”
“No, Tess gets to - oh god - she says when,” you’re squeezing as tight as you can, holding back the orgasm that’s right there, like a seesaw teetering, so close to tipping to the other side and slamming through you.
Lydia slurps at Tess, you can hear her sucking at her clit as Tess moans and tangles her fingers into Lydia’s hair. “Yes, that’s it. Fuck, right there.”
You let out a breathy whine and Tess’s eyes come to you. “Ssshh, not yet. Oh shit, Lydia. So good.”
Joel laughs into your ear. “Just come, what’s the worst she’s going to do? Spank you? Let me fuck your throat? I bet you like being punished.”
You shake your head, trying to block out all the lewd mental images he’s creating. “No, Joel.” you huff, refocusing on holding it in, thinking of all the unsexy thoughts you can as you watch Tess, waiting for your time.
Tess’s legs begin to shake, “get ready, baby. We are going to come together.”
Your wrist begins to ache, it feels like you’ve been fucking yourself for hours. “I need to, please. You look so - “
She cuts you off, “Joel, take over for her. I’m gonna come.”
Joel practically leaps in front of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling your drenched fingers out while slipping his two thick fingers into your mouth. You bob up and down on his fingers still looking at Tess. Her eyes are glazed over, and a bead of sweat slides down the line of her toned stomach and lands in her belly button.
“Now, Joel,” she whines and Joel wastes no time slamming his fingers inside of you. You cry out at the stretch, pleasure mixing with pain before he pumps his fingers forward. “Come right now,” Tess says.
You look down at Joel, his thumb coming to caress your swollen bundle of nerves and you cry out, the room filled with your loud moans just like she wants. You hear both her and Joel encouraging you. Joel’s Texas twang washing over you, “that’s it, fuckin clenchin. Fuck you’re so tight.”
Joel is relentless, curling and dragging his fingers in and out of you as you writhe in your chair. “Tess, oh god, yes.”
Joel's other hand slaps the inside of your thigh, “LOUDER!” he demands.
You squeal at the hot pain that splashes along your thigh, “hhnnngg, thank you. Fuck.” Your pleasurable moans turn into whines of pain as the overstimulation starts to seep in. You try to pull back and bring your knees together and Joel lets out a growl. He looks up at you dangerously and your stomach clenches. This is the wild, animalistic Joel Miller that everyone fears.
You start to panic, he’s not stopping and you don’t know if you can take much more. You’re so wrapped in his onyx gaze and a mix of fear and arousal that you don’t notice Tess behind Joel until she speaks. Her voice is soft yet firm as she cards her fingers through his greying curls, “Joel, that’s enough.”
He blinks hard, seemingly coming out of some sort of trance, and then slips his fingers from you, strings of milky arousal coating his fingers. “Good boy,” she whispers. “Help her up, but you don’t get to touch either of them until I say so.”
He nods and then stands, helping you up. Lydia is lounging lazily on the couch, her face still glistening with Tess’s juices. Your knees shake underneath you and Joel wraps an arm around your waist. You’ve had plenty of orgasms in your life, but never one that deep and strong. Your pussy is aching and you just want to sleep.
Tess sits on the chair that Lydia was on and spreads her legs slightly. “Lydia,” she crooks her fingers at her, calling her over. “Turn around, pretty girl. Straddle my thigh.”
Lydia follows Tess’s instructions, that fake nervous pout of her lips on display for Joel. Clever, very clever, you think through heavy eyelids.
“Joel, help her on the other thigh and bring that chair.” Joel guides and steadies you as you sit on Tess’s thigh, then places the extra chair in front of the three of you. “Use the chair for balance,” Tess instructs, her hand running up and down your spine gently.
You both lean forward, your sweaty palms slipping slightly against the wooden chair. You both gasp quietly as your swollen clits press into her muscular thigh, as she caresses your backs and hips. Joel sits on the couch across from you, one arm draped across the back and his legs spread. He watches you intently, eyes blown out and curls sticking to his forehead. It’s not lost on you that he hasn’t focused much attention on the other girl. You look over at Lydia and she’s smiling flirtatiously at you. Your faces are just inches apart and she nudges at your nose with hers.
“Ladies,” Tess starts, “this is the part where you show Joel what you can do. He’s going to kill people for you, and when he does, you need to repay him.”
You graze your lips against Lydias, her skin tastes like peaches and Tess’s cunt.
“Pretend my thigh is Joel's cock, show him how you’ll ride him.”
You flick your attention back to Joel, and his expression shifts from hard to a tortured need. You rake your eyes down his strong chest, still concealed by that fucking denim button up that you want to rip off with your teeth. He’s dangerous and could easily snap your neck with two fingers, but fuck, if that doesn’t make you want him more. Lydia presses her lips to your throat and you start to grind back and forth on Tess’s thigh.
You continue to take in Joel’s body, stopping when you get to his lap. Your eyes widen at the distinct outline of his hard cock pressing behind the zipper of his jeans. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth as you lock eyes with him again. His coffee coloured irises are almost onyx as he shifts in his seat. He wants you - just as much as you want him, and you just hope that you can break him enough so Tess lets him have you.
Tess’s strong hand travels up the smooth skin of your back, tangling her hands in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Tell Joel how good it feels, baby. Lydia, keep kissing her.”
Lydia’s lips suck at your skin. “Mmm, fuck Joel. Feels s’good. Wish it was your big cock filling me up, sliding in and out of my tight, wet pussy.” Tess tugs at your hair to open your neck more for Lydia and you yelp.
“Keep talking, baby girl,” Joel says, his hand moving to palm himself over his jeans. “Tell me what you want.”
You grind harder into Tess’s thigh, between the sting in your scalp from her hand, Lydia’s soft lips on your neck, and Joel’s intense stare, it almost becomes hard to breathe. Every bit of their attention is on you.
“I-I want you to, mmmm, to pin me down,” you take in a shaky breath, never taking your eyes off him. “To f-fuck me…from behind. Want you to f-fill, oh god, fill me.”
Joel pops the button of his jeans, reaching down his pants to grip himself through his tight grey boxers. You continue breathily, “Wanna feel you spank me. Slam inside of me. Dominate me.”
“Good girl,” Tess says, releasing her grip on your hair and pulling Lydia off your neck, before pressing in between your shoulder blades until you’re flush with her thigh. You crane your neck to keep your eyes on Joel, looking at him through the wooden slats of the back of the chair in front of you. “Your turn, Lydia. Tell Joel what you want.”
She clears her throat before beginning, “If he killed for me, I wouldn’t make him do any work. I’d lay him down, lick and kiss every inch of him before sliding him in my mouth. Taking him deep, cradling his balls with my hand. I’d swallow every drop.”
Joel lets out a noncommittal grunt, almost like a secret language between him and Tess. Joel leans forward and removes his denim button up and t-shirt in one swoop. His tanned and toned chest makes your mouth water. His chiselled pecs and soft belly have trimmed salt and pepper hair dusted across them, he toes off his shoes and then lifts his hip, sliding his jeans down his legs. His skin glistens with sweat and you want to lick it all off of him, drink up his salt and musk, his innate Joel-ness.
“Come here, Joel.” She says.
“Sit up,” she says softly to you. Joel stalks forward like he’s about to claim what’s his and your pussy clenches around nothing in hopes that it’s you.
“Ride my thighs, girls. Whoever cums first, Joel gets to fuck.” You spit into your hand and reach between your legs, gently spreading your lips and coating yourself in saliva.
A deep, “holy fuck” leaves Joel's lips at the sight of you. Yes, he definitely wants you just as much as you want him. You move your hands from the chair to Tess’s knee and grind your hips in small, slow circles. Your arms push your tits together for Joel. Beside you, Lydia stops moving. She sits as still as a statue, looking over her shoulder seductively at Tess. A loud slap fills the room, followed by a lust filled moan that you didn't think Lydia was capable of.
“Tess,” she says, all airy and breathy. Her tone feels sweet on your skin. “I don’t like sleeping with men.”
You keep grinding, your focus on Joel. He’s so close that you could reach out and grab one of his muscular forearms. You’re going to fuck him. You want to fuck him. Any way he wants. Any hole he wants. None of it matters, you just want to feel him, smell him, taste him.
Tess lets out an impressed sigh. “You’re even more amazing than I thought, Lydia. Had me telling you how to lick a pussy, how to touch yourself. But you already know. Don’t you?” She slaps Lydia’s ass again and the loud noise even has you clenching. Fuck, you want Joel to spank you. Or Tess. Even Lydia at this point.
It’s wrong. And taboo. But who can say what’s right or wrong in this new world anymore?
“You are going to have to do things for Joel, little temptress. It’s part of the deal.” You see Tess’s hands come to Lydia’s hips, encouraging her to grind at the same pace you’ve set. “So ride me. Let me feel that slick little pussy, let me feel it quiver on my thigh.”
Things are quiet for a moment, just the squelching sounds of both your cunts gliding along her smooth thigh. You lean into Lydia, desperate for more. More what, you aren’t sure. Just more.
She responds to your touch, her nose brushing your cheek before you turn into her and kiss her deeply. Slanting your head to taste her tongue against yours. She’s sweet, like strawberry jam. Lips so soft they almost don’t feel real. Her teeth clamp onto your bottom lip and you cry out. The perfect amount of pain to increase the pleasure between your legs. When she lets go you’re panting.
“She’s close, Tess,” Joel murmurs like he knows your body so well, but he’s not wrong. He continues speaking casually to Tess as if you aren’t in the same room. “Do I really get to fuck her if she cums first?”
You grind down harder, kissing Lydia again. You love them talking about you as if you aren’t here. Making the decisions for you.
“As soon as she cums, you take her to the bed.” Tess’s strong hand lays a sharp slap on the meaty globe of your ass and you crumble.
“YES!” You scream, convulsing as the pleasure courses through you. You look up at Joel through your lashes, jaw slack, voice weak and desperate. “Joel. Please. Please.”
He drops his boxers and his thick cock spring free. Slapping against his belly. The tip is smooth and leaking, he’s bigger than you thought and somehow your throat dries out as your cheeks fill with saliva. As you come down from your second orgasm you realize that you can do this. You are going to do whatever Tess says and become one of her Treasures.
“Think you can take him?” Tess hums as Lydia falls apart beside you, moaning sweetly. Tess adds, “Good girl, Lydia. So perfect when you cum.”
You decide to take a page out of Lydia's book and act innocent. “N-no,” you stammer. “It’s…I don’t…it’s too big.”
Joel snorts, “You’re not a very good liar my little slut.”
Before you can respond he’s lifted you up and over his broad shoulder. His skin is warm against your belly. You giggle mischievously as his hands dig into the plush skin on the back of your thighs. He can so easily overpower you, so easily destroy you - mentally and physically. And you’d let him, and to make it worse, you’d thank him afterwards and probably ask him to do it again.
He drops you on the bed. “Don’t move.”
You nod and swallow the dry lump in your throat. You definitely want this, even if you shouldn’t. Even if that logical voice inside your head is screaming at you to put up the wall, block him out like you do with everyone else. But the infinitesimal hint of softness in his face that can only be seen by the two of you keeps you sucked in. He won’t hurt you, no. Something in his eyes gives him away, he wants to please you with those hands that have brought pain and torture to so many others.
He walks back over to Tess and Lydia who are completely entranced with one another. Lydia is now sitting fully in Tess’s lap. Her back pressed to Tess’s front, both her legs draped over Tess’s as she pressed kisses along the tops of one of her shoulders and rubs her fingers gently from her pussy up to Lydia’s. Joel kneels in front of them, both of their legs spread, wet pussy’s glistening and on display for him. The sight of Joel Miller on his knees does something unexplainable to you. He’s so goddamn delicious.
He looks over at you again, that softness still coaxing you deeper into his web, tangling around you, claiming you. His large hands cup Tess’s inner thighs and then he dives into both their pussy’s. Jealousy swirls in your stomach as he draws a sloppy wet line from Tess’s entrance to her clit, then up to Lydia in the same manner.
“Oh, fuck Joel,” Tess cries as Lydia whimpers.
“Too much, baby?” he says gruffly to Lydia who nods before burying her face into the crook of Tess’s neck. “Little more, m’kay?”
He licks at them again, Tess’s moan ending as Lydia’s starts. Joel doesn’t stop. He uses long languid and lazy strokes of his tongue as he eats at both of them.
“J-Jo - fuuuck Joel!” Tess murmurs, her head falling back and mouth falling open in a silent scream. She wraps her arms tightly around Lydia as her legs start to tremble. Joel’s deltoids and biceps flex as he pushes to keep her thighs apart.
“Fuck, Tess.” Lydia purrs, “You look so goddamn hot when you cum. Suck on her clit, Joel. Make our girl squeal.” You can hear him slurp her swollen and twitching nub into his mouth. As it slips along his soft and puffy lips her pained sounding moans start to become mumbles of pleasure. Joel works her through her orgasm, not stopping until he knows she's good and sated.
Lydia reaches back, twisting to kiss Tess deeply and then whispers into her lips. Whatever she says gets Joel's attention and he releases her clit with a pop before looking up at the two women. You haven’t moved from where Joel left you, as fun as being a brat is, he could probably dish out a punishment so intense that even you would break and use whatever safe word he gave you. Lydia whispers more, Joel smirks at whatever she’s saying and then the three of them all slowly turn to look over at you.
Fuck
Joel stands, his hands coming to the outsides of Tess’s knees and guiding her as she closes her legs, then he gives a hand to Lydia to help her stand before repeating the same with Tess. He stands tall and broad, completely naked and fully erect between these two powerhouse women, linking his fingers with Tess and smiling over at her. She gives him a little nod and your stomach flips as your pussy clenches.
This is it, you think.
“Little slut,” he says deeply, “‘M’gonna fuck you now, while they hold you down. Understood?”
You try to say yes, but just air seems to leave your lungs. Tess and Lydia climb along each side of you, hooking their arm under your leg and pulling back to open you for Joel. Your arms are trapped under their bodies as they lay beside you. You’re pinned and exposed; fully at Joel, Tess and Lydia’s mercy.
The bed dips as Joel settles between your thighs, his large body looms over you, resting himself on one forearm beside your head, his other hand wrapped around his cock, running it up and down your folds.
“So wet for me. So soft,” he presses the fat tip of his cock at your entrance and you gasp. “Shit! S’tight too, baby girl.”
Tess and Lydia nuzzle into you, lightly dragging their noses along your neck and jawline. “J-Joel, fuck me. Pleaseplease. Fuck me”
Joel presses his hips forwards, and the thick, smooth mushroom head of his cock pushes at your weeping cunt again. “Look at me, little slut,” he rasps. You don’t hesitate, look at him with big innocent eyes, biting your lower lip. He spits into his palm and then coats his throbbing dick with it, fisting himself up and down. He raises an eyebrow at you cockily, “Say it again.”
“Fuck me, fuck me, please!”
Without warning Joel slams into you, stretching you painfully and your body jolts. You try to slam your knees together but the naked women on each side of you keep you spread open widely for Joel. “Shit baby,” he says through gritted teeth as his body folds over yours, his hands caging all three of you in. Tess nips at your neck, while Lydia sucks at your earlobe after whispering, “Relax, little slut, we all got you.”
Your lungs slowly come back to you. You take a deep, full breath in, and it feels like you haven’t taken a proper breath since seeing Joel for the first time. As you exhale you’re completely surrounded by Joel Miller. His large body is all you can see and feel. Meanwhile, all you can taste and smell is his tobacco scent and the salt of the sweat that coats his tanned skin. You’re addicted, you want to be able to inject him right into your veins. Your pussy relaxes around him and the pain ebbs into pleasure, and you need more.
“More, please more,” you murmur into his neck.
“There she is,” Tess whispers in your ear and you whimper.
“Say it again,” Joel commands.
“Fuck me, Joel,” you cry. “Please, fuck me. Make me your little slut for real.”
Lydia giggles seductively in your ear, pulling you into her tighter.
“Open her all the way for me,” he says to the other two. “S’too tight for me.”
He sits himself up and your knees are pulled open and back. Joel keeps his eyes locked on yours as he tilts his chin a bit and splits on your already soaked pussy. His veiny hands come to the back of your thighs, squeezing and massaging at your sensitive skin.
“Think I should fuck her, Lydia?” He starts, and soon they’re talking about you again as if you aren’t even there, the slick walls of your cunt fluttering as they speak.
“She's been good, hasn’t she?” Lydia says in a syrupy aroused tone.
“No she hasn’t,” Tess says between kisses along your jawline. “She’s a thief. She’s a bad girl.”
Joel slaps the inside of one of your thighs, with just enough of a flick in his wrist that it immediately sends a zap of pleasure toward your clit. Lydia feels you relax more into her grips, “She likes it when you hit her, Joel”.
“Of course she does,” Tess moans. “She’s a little slut.” She hits the t at the end of the word hard and Joel slaps you again. Right in the same spot, precision that you’ve never known before from a man who kills without being seen.
“Should feel how tight she is, maybe she had us fooled,” Joel says, eyes shifting between the two women, wholly avoiding your gaze. You’re so desperate for his attention, and the humiliation of him not returning it arouses you so much more than it should.
“What’d’ya mean, baby boy?” Tess asks, her warm breath hitting your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine.
“Like a virgin, squeezin’ me like a vice.”
“She’s shakin,” Lydia adds. “Poor girl.”
“You two don’t stop kissing her while I do this,” they both nod and he flips his attention back to you. “I wanna hear you screamin’. Got it, little slut?”
You shudder under his intense stare. “Yes, yes, Joel. Please, just fuck me. Pleeease!”
He pulls halfway out and then slams back in, his heavy balls slap at your taint and asshole, your needy high pitched moans filling the room. Your whole body constricts around Joel and as it relaxes it feels like heaven. No one has made your body feel like this. “That feel good?” Joel says tauntingly, his hands gripping into the back of your thighs.
“Please - fuck, yes. More,” you mumble, almost incoherently.
“Show our girl, Joel. Show her what he can have once she’s my Treasure.” Tess commands.
What’s that saying, ‘You say jump, I say how high’? Well, when Tess says jump, Joel is already mid jump, doing it exactly how Tess wants it. He’s already dragging his cock out slowly, all the way to the tip, before slamming fast and hard back into you.
“Harder,” Tess growls, biting your neck as Joel repeats the motion. Lydia squirms against you, her soft warm skin slipping along the thin sparkling layer of sweat that coats your body. “Look at her. Pliant, soft. Letting Joel do whatever he wants.”
“That’s cuz she’s a good girl,” Lydia moans, kissing the sensitive skin under your earlobe.
Joel brings one of his hands to cup your chin, his thumb running around your bottom lip softly. “Gotta relax for me, little slut.”
You take a breath and as you exhale you can feel the grip your pussy has on his thick cock loosen. “That’s it. That’s my girl.”
“Good job, baby girl,” Tess whispers, kissing at your throat again.
“Fuck her now, Joel.” Lydia says, “We got her.”
Joel sets a quick pace, slamming in and out of you. His name and a string of swears leaving your lips with every thrust, just the screams of your pleasure and the squelching of your pussy filling the room. Tess and Lydia whisper praises as Joel is possessed by your cunt. Pounding and pounding into you without pause. Over and over, he’s relentless. A man possessed. You can’t help but wonder if he’s like this with all other women or if this is just for you. His hand falls from your chin, landing beside Tess’s head on the mattress, the other still gripped to your thigh. His short nails dig into your skin, leaving you marked with signs of him.
“That’s it,” Lydia hums. “Taking it like such a good girl.”
Tess’s teeth lightly scrape at your jawline. “Come on, baby. I wanna see you come again.”
“So fuckin’ pretty when you come,” Joel says each word at the end of his harsh thrusts. His voice is gravelly and deep. Seeping under your skin and into your DNA, the very fabric of your being. You belong to him, no questions asked.
“M-more. I - more - please.” You aren’t sure what you mean by more, but Joel seems to know your body better than you as he sits himself back up and brings his thumb to your clit, teasing it gently and you writhe under him. It’s almost too much but you need it, and even more, you need Joel not to stop.
He hammers into you again, slower this time, but still with an intense flick of his hips at the end. The leaking tip of his cock pressing against the perfect spongy part behind your clit.
“Can see you in her stomach, Cowboy.” Tess moans. Both the women feather long, lingering kisses along your neck. The juxtaposition of their soft actions and the bruising dance of Joel’s hip is just as confusing as it is arousing.
“Rub her clit a little harder, Joel. I think she’s getting close.” You clench around him at Lydia’s words and cry out loudly.
He swirls his thumb easily along your lubricated clit, the mixture of both of your arousals and his spit making it slippery. “Ohgod, hnnnnggg, J-Joel pleasepleaseplease.”
“Sssshhh, baby,” he soothes, pausing with his hips pushed flush to your ass. “Gotta relax, remember?”
You whimper in agreement, nodding your head as you try to slow your breathing and your heart rate. “There she goes,” Joel moans as your pussy walls flutter and then relax.
He starts to fuck you slowly, circling your swollen velvety nub with the rough pad of his thumb. His other hand leaves your thigh, massaging your breast, pinching at the nipple with his thumb and forefinger. “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight. Gonna fill you one day.”
“Today, please!” you protest through a salacious moan.
“Tell her,” he says to the women holding you in their arms, speeding up the circles of his thumb.
“Lydia,” Tess whispers, like it’s a secret just for the three of you, “Tell her your plan.”
You’re lost in a daze as Lydia says your name into your skin. When you don’t respond she nips gently at you and says, “Baby? You with me?”
“Y-yes. Fuuuuuuck,” you say wantonly.
“Joel is gonna make you cum, then pull out and cum all over our faces. After, we are going to lick it all off each other.” She says it with a hint of mischief and lust in her voice.
The three of them praise and encourage you as Joel keeps fucking you and rubbing your clit at the same time. You have no idea how long you’ve been in this apartment, how long you’ve been floating on a vibrating fluffy cloud of pleasure and craving. Whispers of “Good girl”, “so pretty”, and “fuck listen to how wet you are” travel through you.
The electric currents of pleasure that sizzle along your skin all come to the base of your spine. Pressure building, so very close to exploding around all of you. “Come on, little slut. Let go for me.”
Lydia and Tess say ‘Come on’ and ‘relax into it’ at the same time.
“Shit, J-Joel,” you whimper. A tear runs down your cheek.
“I know, I’m here,” he says, voice slightly softer than earlier. “I know.”
The pressure becomes unbearable and then everything snaps. Your pussy flutters as the pleasure starts to consume every single inch of your being. Your vision blurs, every muscle going lax as you twitch unconsciously underneath him.
“Good girl. Yes, that’s my good little slutty girl,” he growls. Your orgasm continues to tear through you, ripping you in half and you know when you come down only Joel will be able to stitch you back up again.
Joel presses his large palm to your mound, and just as you feel yourself start to come down you’re on the precipice of another orgasm. “Got another one for me, baby?”
“Yesyesyes - yeeesss,” you’ve forgotten words, you’re just a bundle of pleasure. No muscles or bones or thoughts of your own. Just a pliant body, that’s fully under the control of Joel Miller.
Your second orgasm hits you hard, tearing anything you had left in half. “She’s gonna squirt,” Joel mumbles.
“Just let it go,” Lydia whispers, suckling on your earlobe.
You push into the feeling, letting it overtake you as liquid gushes from your cunt, coating Joel's pelvis and pooling on the bed below you. It splashes as Joel keeps up his pace. You scream out in pleasure. Lydia and Tess talking you through it quietly, “Good girl. Stay relaxed for me,” Tess says as Lydia adds, “Let it take you, we’re right here.”
The pleasure starts to ebb, it’s becoming too much as Tess whispers, “Breathe, baby girl. Just breathe.”
“Can’t, Tess.” you whimper, turning your face towards her. “Please,” you plead. If you learned anything from earlier, it’s that only Tess can make him stop.
“Ok, baby, you’re ok,” she hums. She looks up at Joel above all of you and drops her voice, “That’s enough now, Joel.”
Joel pulls away from your clit and you sigh in relief, both his hands coming to your breasts, squeezing them roughly as his thrusts become sloppy. “Get ready,” he huffs through gritted teeth. Both Tess and Lydia scoot up so their faces are pressed against yours.
Joel slips out of you with a lewd pop and practically bends you in half to get over your faces. “Open your mouths and look at me,” he commands. The three of you obey, anything for the man who is going to kill for you or defend you to the very end if need be.
His hand is tight around his cock, pumping himself quickly, the cords of muscle and veins along his forearm start to pop. His balls are full and heavy, tight against his body as he edges closer to his release. You stare at him, soaking in how wrecked he looks as he gets closer. His brows pinch together, onyx and whiskey flecked eyes looking only at you before his face goes lax and he lets out a deep, loud moan. Warm ropes of opaque white cum paint your faces.
As soon as he’s done he pulls away, Tess and Lydia letting go of your legs as the three of you kiss and lick at each other's sticky faces. Joel tastes better than you could have imagined, a heady mix of saltiness that leaves you insatiable for more.
Joel sits back on his heels watching the three of you slurp him up. He has a proud smirk on his face and when your eyes find his he winks at you before getting up and grabbing a towel off the top of the small dresser near the bed. Tess says something hushed to Lydia as you and Joel look at one another. Lydia pressed a kiss to your cheek before getting off the bed and following Tess into another room, the unmistakable sound of the shower alerting you to where they’ve gone.
Joel climbs beside you, looking down at you hesitantly. “You ok?” he whispers.
“Ya,” you sign sleepily. “I’m ok, Joel.”
He brings the towel to your thighs, soaking up your arousal. “I didn’t hurt ya?”
The towel ghosts along your swollen folds and you gasp, turning your head into Joel’s strong upper body. “I know, sorry.” He hisses, hating that he’s causing you discomfort. “But I gotta clean you up.”
He dabs gently with the soft towel causing an aftershock that shakes through your body and you feel yourself squirt again. Not nearly as much this time but a euphoric moan leaves your lips. Joel tucks the towel between your legs and guides your face up to meet his. His brown eyes burn themselves into your soul, “do you need more, baby? Just tell me.”
“It’s sensitive,” you whine.
He lifts an eyebrow slightly, “does it hurt?”
You stick your bottom lip out and nod sadly.
“Need me to kiss it?” he asks gently, his hooked nose rubbing against yours.
You look at him hesitantly. Of course, you want Joel’s plush lips on your pussy, but a flap of a butterfly wing could probably cause you to implode at this point.
“You can say another time,” he whispers, lips hovering over yours. He doesn’t know where this side of him has come from. Joel Miller is a simple man. Murder who Tess says, fuck any one of her Treasures that offer to get the adrenaline out afterwards, then leave them in their apartment pumped full of his cum. He usually can’t wait to rush back to his apartment to take a shower and shoot back a mix of whiskey and sleeping pills. But with you, he feels the need to care for you afterwards, and he has a strong feeling that you’re going to be a very large distraction in his life from now on.
I’m fucked, he thinks to himself.
You lean forward to sponge your lips against his. He kisses you sweetly, pulling you in tighter as you hum contently into his lips.
“I don’t think I can tonight,” you say softly after breaking the kiss.
“That’s ok, little slut.” He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you’re resting on top of him. Legs straddling his hips and your head resting on his chest. You shiver against him, tucking your arms into your body. His hands scramble for the blanket, wrapping it around the two of you, kissing the top of your head. “Tomorrow, after Tess officially makes you her Treasure, that will be your gift from me.”
You nod into his chest, he smells like gunpowder, fresh sawdust and sweat as your eyelids become heavy and the world seems to slip away. You have trouble sleeping normally, I mean who wouldn’t in this fucked up new world you’re all in, but with Joel, it happens almost too easily. Sleep just takes you to a deep and uninterrupted place for who knows how long. But when you wake you’re in a large grey t-shirt in a small bedroom, not the same one you fell asleep in. You hear the peaceful and melodic breathing of someone beside you. You move slowly, peeling open your eyes to see Joel sleeping beside you. The moonlight dances softly along his face, grey hairs glinting in the light. He looks so peaceful, nothing like the man that was crazed by your pussy early. He’s still visibly dangerous, but fuck is he beautiful.
I’m fucked, you think to yourself.
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#joel miller#joel miller tlou#pedro pascal#joel tlou#joel the last of us#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel x reader#pedrohub#joel miller fanfiction#joel x female reader#joel x y/n#joel x oc#Joel x tess#tess servopoulos#tess x joel#tess x reader#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic
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This post is going to be a bit heavy and boring. I'll talk about Astarion, but also about real life, so if you're not interested, scroll away without hesitation!
So, lately, I've been pretty pissed off. I feel like I'm being made fun of by certain comments I see around regarding Astarion's redemption arc—how I supposedly have some kind of "Florence Nightingale syndrome" that makes me want to "fix" him with the power of my love (a syndrome that, in real life, would obviously put my own life at risk) and how I’m supposedly willing to justify anything he does just because he's traumatized. Seriously? So I must be some kind of idiot, a lovestruck teenager who knows nothing about how the world works, who's never stepped outside her house, who's never had a healthy relationship, and so on. And that pisses me off. Because maybe, just maybe, I know something more, not less.
And that’s exactly why I read between the lines, why I don’t judge instantly, and why I don’t delude myself into believing in the power of love as some kind of absolute force that magically fixes everything just because. Maybe the love we're talking about here has nothing to do with romanticizing (butterflies in the stomach, kisses and cuddles, "I’m the only one for him, and for me he’ll do this or that") a horrific situation—one where a man has been mentally and physically broken, one that comes with a whole range of possible unhealthy behaviors that could be dangerous to himself and others.
Maybe we’re talking about something more real, about lived experiences, about how people can support and help each other crawl out of the darkness. About how love simply means being there, without necessarily doing anything. In both good times and bad, because healing isn’t a straight line. There are ups and downs. Love means being aware of the struggles and working hard on them, it means listening, accepting, waiting, being patient. It means pushing back when necessary, confronting the person you love, and stopping them from hurting themselves. It also means giving up, running away, screaming at the sky, and then coming back more determined than before—even knowing you might have to start the process all over again.
Are the people who love this hard just idiots who think they can "fix" their loved ones with the power of love? And what if it were your child? Fuck no, I won’t accept that! That’s a message that cannot and must not spread, not when there are people out there fighting this battle every single day.
Sure, there are plenty of lost causes in this world, and yes, real danger exists. But the key is being able to recognize them. No one wants to be a martyr, but there will always be someone worth fighting for. Because yes, loving someone who struggles—with depression, personality disorders, eating disorders, anxiety, PTSD, etc.—is a fight. But that doesn’t mean they don’t deserve love.
And Spawn Astarion is not a lost cause. He comes from a background of every kind of abuse imaginable. He’s an asshole because he has to be (and he’s also a fucking vampire!), but then—something changes. Possibilities open up before him. And immediately, he shows he can adapt, that he can learn, that he wants to change.
And when that internal drive is there (that inner force of the individual himself, which makes all the difference in the world), you can’t and shouldn’t ignore it—even in real life.
It’s not about "fixing" someone. It’s about helping them feel better, about helping them achieve their goals (yes, their goals—even when they can’t quite articulate them), about changing in a healthier way, about healing. Because Spawn Astarion wants to live more than anything else. And he wants to do so fully, not as a broken man.
That’s why he approves when Tav/Durge tells him he just needs to find a place for himself, that he can find so many people willing to care for him if only he is willing to care for them. That’s why he approves when Tav/Durge reminds him—despite his fear, despite the intoxicating scent of blood—that maybe, just maybe, ascension isn’t what he truly wants. He approves. There’s no room for misinterpretation here—this is as sincere as it gets.
And in both cases, these situations are directly opposed to his obsession with taking Cazador’s place.
But, going back to the point—thinking that the power of love can magically fix everything is stupid. But we also cannot allow the message to spread that, in real life, a person who struggles due to trauma (and hell, it doesn’t even have to be torture in a dark dungeon—it could be something as "simple" as a profound loss) is incapable of healing or being loved, despite the difficulties. It’s not easy, but there are men and women in this world with immense strength and hearts big enough to do this and more.
If this isn't for you, fine. No one is forcing you. But make room for these heroes instead of spouting nonsense.
Now, fortunately, BG3 is a fantasy game where you can do literally anything, freely, even recklessly, without any real risk. And that’s fine—let’s have fun experimenting, living out our fantasies, being heroes (after all, we’re not actually picking up swords and charging into hordes of pissed-off goblins), becoming ultimate villains, bringing the world to its knees, killing anyone who gets in our way.
But when we bring real life into the discussion to make a point or compare it to the game, let’s do so with a little more thought and tact. Kindness is a virtue, not a flaw.
And to end on a lighter note—hell no, I don’t approve of everything Astarion says or does! I try to understand him, to grasp the many whys behind his actions, but if I had him in front of me, I’d straight-up say, "Oi, what the fuck are you doing?! Asshole!" I’d argue with him, I’d get mad at him—just like I did in my playthroughs.
And for the record, I never had to step off my heroic path to gain his approval. I simply disagreed with him when I felt it was right and treated him kindly when he needed it.
Honestly, earning his approval in this game is the easiest thing in the world—let him drink your blood, trust him (defend him from the other companions’ suspicions), let him decide how to handle his diet (which, honestly, is a fair compromise), tell the devil to go to hell (xP), and do something ridiculously stupid like giving him the necromancy book, interrupting the two ogres having sex, licking a goblin’s boots, and getting whipped a little—voilà! Suddenly, you have Astarion in your arms, and you haven’t even had time to save the druid grove yet.
In my very first playthrough, with my super-good Selûne cleric who was always helping the needy, I was actually trying to romance Shadowheart—when I somehow found myself magically in a relationship with Astarion just because I told him, "I care about you" (the same reason I didn’t let him bite the pervy drow). Lol.
Ok, I'll try not to make any more heavy posts like this. I feel a bit like a broken record, singing the same song over and over—sorry about that. And of course, have a great day, everyone! <3
#astarion#astarion ancunin#baldur’s gate 3#bg3#bg3 astarion#baldurs gate astarion#astarion bg3#baldurs gate 3 astarion#spawn astarion
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Hi! Been reading your fics svt as you best friend’s brother and im hooked, my favorite would be vernon’s!!! Idk if you still accept request but if you do, can i request Joshua + as your brother’s bestfriend?
P.S. i really like your writing style! 🥰
this is a part of my 550 followers event, but requests are now CLOSED.
thank you for enjoying my work <3 and thanks for the request, it was wonderful to work on it!! altho i wrote like 4 versions because i so unsatisfied but finally settled on this, really hoping that you'll like it1 and again, i'm so sorry for being late, i hope you still enjoy this :)
thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who you certainly don't approve of at all
"i don't like this new friend you have." you tell your brother straight up when joshua leaves your house after dinner. it's the first time he's visited your house since your brother and he became inseparable. you've heard a lot about him and to be fair, you'd expected him to be .... not like what you realise he is.
it's nothing tangible, though. joshua is all politeness and manners, but there's an air about him which constantly reminds you that he belongs to old money, an air of superiority that seems to be ingrained in his manner of walking and talking.
and the worst bit is that everyone is so taken with him. ever since he's joined your high school, it's become amply clear that everyone loves joshua hong. some because of his wealth, others because of his looks.
"sis, he didn't even bother you. how the hell do you not like him?" your brother's low grumble annoys you, as if he has a right to ask you this although he freely drops his opinions about all your new college friends. "i don't know, really. but the vibes are... vibes are bad."
vernon rolls his eyes. "you're just mad because he's not into you, isn't it?" the words don't leave his mouth before he gets a very subtle kick in his shin that dumps him on the floor.
thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who rarely ever gets curious about people, but somehow he just cannot understand you
he's seen enough people already and now he can flag each person by their type. but you don't seem to fit into any of the boxes he can so easily segregate humans into. for one, you're very lowkey, just like vernon. but unlike your brother, you're not laidback nor are you cool, at all, really. you're very tight-wound, always on your guard, your wide eyes taking in everything around you.
"okay you're scaring me now," joshua spins around and meets your gaze, squinting to try and understand what thoughts lurk beneath those judgy little eyes.
"what have i done?" "you can't be judgmental during a creative process!" "i have literally not spoken a word and yet you think i'm judging you." "that's cause you are," joshua stands up and walks to you, hands on his hips, desperately trying to keep a cool face as he tries to read your mind. you cock your head to one side, meeting his stare, "oh yeah? how's that so?" "your eyes are boring holes into my back, i can feel them, you know." you stand up, your height nowhere close to joshua's but the strength of your gaze strong enough to pin his attention, "that's just the voice in your head, nuthead. you know your song is trash and you're dumping it on me now."
"hey!" vernon protests, and joshua smirks, "see i told you she was judging us! well, you can keep your judgement to yourself, miss chwe-" "yeah, i was gonna-" "and maybe leave the room while the artists are busy creating art your silly brain cannot understand."
you gasp, "you can't kick me out of my own room, you nobody!" "but he can," he says, pointing to vernon, "he's your brother." "not really, i'm gonna tell mom-" joshua loves seeing you get riled up, loves to see at least some emotion on your face. "okay, my whiney lil girl, go tell mommy," he bends down to your level and winks, his breath catching at the very audible sound of your gasp.
and it works, somehow. did he just intimidate you? or irritate you? whatever he's done, now you do leave the room, but not before flipping off him and vernon. that hurts his ego a little bit, but at least he won't have to feel your judgy eyes stare at his back while he's composing the masterpiece he and vernon are going to perform at the next party. that's a win in his books.
thinking about brother's best friend!joshua whose somehow everywhere you go, almost like a shadow
of course, some of it is thanks to your brother. and the rest of it is because he has a lot of common classes with you. and although he's a new student, he's quickly become the apple of the eye of many teachers too.
"if you're really so good at creative literature, why can't you write your lyrics yourself!" you huff at him when he shoves the notebook towards you across the table once again. "that's because i've got writer's block, you idiot. why can't you just be nice to me for once, i'm just asking for some help!"
joshua's looking at you with the most helpless puppy eyes he can manage, but you're not falling for his tricks. "you're getting me distracted with this, i know what you're doing." your hand stretches across the table, pushing the notebook back to him. "distracting you? it's one damn verse-" "joshua, you're trying to distract me from working on the essay due this week, aren't you?"
joshua's eyes bulge. "what? woman, now you're overdoing this. i don't even know why you have these kinds of illusions about me. i haven't done anything to you." "but i know your type of guy," you eye him seriously, and he cocks an eyebrow. "whatever it is, you've got me wrong, y/n." for a second, you're almost convinced, but then you look at the rolex resting casually on his wrist.
"no i'm not, joshua. there are hundreds of other people, eager to write your song lyrics, but no, you come to me. why? you're an attention whore, you only pester me because i push you away. the day that i give in, you'll be gone, and -"
joshua leans in until he's almost breathing the same air as yours. "and what, y/n?" you pause for a second to frame your words correctly, but joshua takes up the chance, "then you'll realize that you've got me all wrong, because i never left you at all?"
there's some rawness in his voice, a rugged angle that's new in his usually sugary sweet voice, and it leaves you disoriented for a long minute, your thoughts scattered, your heart racing and your intuition anxious. have you really got him all wrong? but he's already gone by then, gone before you've predicted, and you have no second chance to call him back to tell him that you'd already thought of lines for the verse last night when you'd heard your brother sing the rest of the song.
thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who's looking for you in the crowd when he performs at the party tonight, but it's a search in vain
he wants to ask vernon if he knows where you are, but he doesn't want to sound desperate. doesn't want to sound like an attention whore, doesn't want you the pleasure to think that maybe you're right. because no. you're not. he's not thirsting for your attention. he's not yearning for one soft look from your eyes because he can never understand what's going on behind them. he's not going insane every night wondering what you really think of him. he's not longing to see your fake guard fold in two so that he can tell you that he-
Hope you listen to this song 'cause I, I, I... 'Cause I'm doing right just fine. I'm doing alright, doing alright. he sings, but he really hopes no one sees it on his face that he's not, in fact, doing alright. no one has affected him to this extent, to the extent that it's plaguing his thoughts all day and all night whether they hate him or not. and the fact that even this is occurring is concerning enough for joshua to feel his stomach twist in anger and anxiety, although he can see the crowd happily sway to their song.
and then vernon sings, I can't get you out of my head, yeah, Gotta get you out of my head, yeah. How can you be so fine when ... and joshua remembers how he wrote this verse thinking about your icy eyes when you stare at him when he's standing in front of the class, giving a presentation that the teacher's asked him to deliver, staring at him like he's not good enough.
I'm doing great myself, Hope you know I am... and how joshua wrote these lives in a feverish whisper in the middle of the night when your words from last afternoon had come rushing to his mind and he'd lost all sleep. because he is doing great, isn't he? he is. he doesn't need your attention. he doesn't need your approval. he doesn't even need your affirmation.
except the voice in his head knows he does. he knows it because it's at this moment that he sees you in the crowd, standing far away from the stage so he hopes you don't know he's staring right at you, but he can feel the burn of your gaze even through the blinding lights.
and the song ends with a final strum of his guitar, vernon singing, I'm super fine, I don't need you anymore... and joshua can't help but whisper out, into his microphone
i need you
thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who's looking too good for even you to resist tonight, with the signature black jacket and a single vein popping out on his neck
you don't even know why you came tonight. something something about your mother asking you to check on vernon and make sure he's not getting high. something something about this being the last weekend before you get into study mode for finals. something something about you being curious about what joshua finally wrote in that verse.
and while you've seen your brother perform quite a few times, seeing joshua on stage gives you a different kind of goosebumps. the kind of goosebumps that leave you wondering what is wrong with you that you're so mean to him on an every day basis when he's so beautiful and so talented.
i'll give him a chance, you think, when you walk towards backstage. you confidently enter the tiny room that's labelled as backstage, but you find your brother making out desperately with someone in a corner so you jump out of the room immediately...
"looking for someone?" and bump into the person you've actually been looking for. when you turn around, his eyes leave you breathless, and you think that he is right. you have got him all wrong.
thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who can finally read your eyes because he's taken you by surprise and you can't mask your feelings so quickly
and now he's got you in his arms, and he knows that vernon is up to something inside the room, so he slowly slides you away from the room and against the wall next to it. "did you watch me?" not us. me. because joshua wants to know desperately what you think about him.
"i did." "and? what did you think?" your pretty eyes flitter about, trying to avoid his gaze avidly, but his hand slips under your chin so that you do look at him. "don't make me lose my mind, y/n. tell me, please."
so you finally look at him. really look at him. no shields, no guards, no distances. "i thought you were damn good, joshua hong. that's what i thought."
joshua's hand slips from under your chin and falls to his side. "and? what did you think of the song?" there's a hint of a smile in your eyes, and he can see them crinkle into a smile before your mouth can. "i thought it was very emotional. i didn't think you to be capable of such raw emotion. was it for someone?"
and he knows this is the moment. he knows it is because all the voices in his head are ringing like sirens with only one answer. "yes, you."
and you gasp and joshua leans in to press a kiss to your mouth. it's a soft kiss, barely a peck, a request for permission, a test to check the tides. so when you lean into him, chasing his lips, he loses all control.
"y/n chwe, you're driving me insane," he mutters, as he slowly tastes all of your lips, feeling the plush and the warmth of the one thing he's craved for months now. "pl- please, don't fight this feeling," he knows he's begging, but he doesn't care. all he wants is your softness against his hands and your warmth spreading to his body and your lips smashing again and again against his own lips.
thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who's eyes bulge out of their sockets, his lipstick smudged against the corner of his mouth, a pathetic whine leaving his throat as you push him away
there's an emergency siren ringing in your head right now, and all you want to do is fall back into his arms, but you can't. you simply cannot. because that would mean you've fallen for his games, become prey to his tactics and he'd win again.
you have to fight the feeling because you know tomorrow morning he'll be gone, and never come back, because he's got you under his grasp now. so you do the first thing the rush of adrenaline tells you to do- run.
you run all the way home, locking yourself into your room, biting down on the rough edges of your t-shirt to stop yourself from screaming because your mind is still reeling from the taste of the forbidden fruit. you know deep down, that you have lost to joshua. you've given yourself up to him, let your guard down, and if you see him right now, you may just fold.
thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who doesn't give up looking for you, and finally finds you in the corner of the library the next afternoon, skipping lunch in favour of revising biology
thankfully, you're too engrossed in your notes to realise when he's taken the seat next to you, it's only after he softly calls out your name that you jerk up with surprise, "oh it's you."
and then a second later, when joshua's hand is halfway across the gap between you two, you whisper out louder, "oh it's you." he pauses. "yeah, y/n, it is me. what's wrong?"
you don't respond immediately. you stare at his outstretched hand, at the confusion etched on his features and the way your knees are touching under the desk. "you came looking for me?" joshua doesn't understand why you look so dazed, but he replies softly, leaning in, "of course. why wouldn't i?"
and then you lean into him and kiss him. wow that was simple, joshua's mind still confused at what just happened, but he doesn't miss the opportunity. his hand finds your arm, and he pulls you closer to kiss you, to taste you in every way he couldn't last evening. "i want you, y/n. why do you run away from me?"
and joshua doesn't know why, but you laugh. it's the sound of rain falling on leaves, the sound of tinkling beads, the sound of piano keys played on a midsummer night. "i promise i won't anymore, joshua. because i admit, i want you too." and you kiss him again, and somehow, his curiosity becomes the last thing on his mind. not when you're busy rearranging his brain chemicals to make sure he's addicted to your scent, your taste and your touch and he can never live without you now.
#simpxxstan#simpxxstan's 550 followers celebration event#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#svt#svt x reader#seventeen x you#svt fluff#joshua headcanons#svt headcanons#svt joshua#joshua#joshua fluff#joshua seventeen#joshua hong
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For some reason, the current episodes of The Simpsons that focus on Waylon make me sad.
First, when we go from his blind admiration for Mr. Burns to instantly asking "Who should I kill" and kidnapping a man with a gun to his back - to his conscience that Mr. Burns bribed the judge to they were released from prison? You yourself bribed the judge to get Mr. Burns released in past episodes!
Second, I still don't understand why he has a photo of his ex on his wall. They did not part well. That dude was literally WORSE than Mr. Burns + he kicked a puppy that clearly represented Waylon throughout the episode - after which he decided to go his separate ways.
On the one hand, yes, I get it: character development. Perhaps the moment when he realized that he has a certain "type": "evil" billionaires - then he thought about what he was doing with his life in general. Yes, even in the first seasons, Waylon had a clear line beyond which he was not going to cross, "comic evil", like the idea of blocking the sun or beating up Homer for a completely understandable angry letter.
In more modern seasons, he repeatedly tries to "smooth out" Monty's actions, try to direct him, if not to a more "kind" path, then at least to a "neutral" one. Although the funny thing is that even in the original episodes, Burns is just struggling with anger issues, he is not an "evil villain" and is capable of human feelings, good deeds and is really looking for love and acceptance - which makes him a very interesting character. In the later seasons, his character jumps here and there a lot and he is often reduced to the very "cartoon evil", which upsets me a lot.
I kind of like "I'm even worse than them because I know better - but I do it anyway". I like it if they showed how Waylon on the one hand changed (why?) in the process, and he has on the one hand - a blind and strong love for Monty, and on the other - a desire to do good deeds. And so yes, he is also behind his back, even if together with Marge (I still like that they are best friends), they do good deeds.
By the way, this reminds me a little of the Rick and Morty episode where it turns out that Morty is sneaking behind Rick's back in the dimensions where he messed up and fixing everything that can be done because he has empathy and conscience and even though he no longer a naive child, he is still not a cynical nihilist. Of course, Waylon Smithers goes through a completely different story arc here - although I highly doubt that he was actually given an ARC, and not accidentally, given that the people who created the show don't care about any kind of consistency, canonicity, character development in the long term.
Oh my god, hire fans, seriously.
And damn, we've gone from "I'll turn the Earth upside down for you" to "I bribed a judge not for you… and your wife." On the one hand, I still like the joke that Burns regularly forgets not just Homer, but his entire family, no matter how many times they cross paths and work together.
On the other hand, I don't really get the joke, of why he thinks Waylon is straight, even though he did come out, and he's so out of touch with his personal life that he thinks he has a wife. GIVE ME BACK THEIR "I NAMED MY QUEEN BEE AFTER YOU" RELATIONSHIP! Even if you're not going to make them canon, gosh, it sucks to show that they're THAT far apart because WE KILLED THE FUCK FOR THE PREVIOUS 35 YEARS OF BUILDING THEIR RELATIONSHIP. They are CONSTANTLY together, they TALK, we've been shown that Burns really values Waylon as a sidekick and as a person, even if he can take him for granted.
At this point, I only want to read or write fanfics; and to rewrite these episodes in my imagination so that they fit into the canvas of their homoerotic behavior of the "golden age", if not to canonize them in my imagination. And yes, I DEFINITELY want to take this episode as a base and maybe write it "my way" so I don't want to cry so much.
I know I put too much into the relationship between the two drawing men, but I have a lot of bad things going on in my life right now, and these two are helping me a lot through this period.
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so I've been following along with the mattress questions because my mattress is just about exactly 10 years old and sags SO BAD. It's deeply, deeply uncomfortable and all the things you've been saying to look for to replace, it has. I've already decided that when I start getting my paychecks this fall, the first thing I'm buying is a new mattress.
Are there any brands that sell $800-$1000 queen beds that you'd recommend? I get so overwhelmed with choice, so names to at least check out at the store would be useful.
Also, is it better to get a mattress topper earlier rather than later? Or should you wait until you notice problems with it to shell out for one?
(thank you so much, I had just resigned myself to sleeping bad forever, but this series of answers reminded me that I'm an Adult with Adult Money and can (eventually) buy myself a new one. and as I buy the new one, I WILL be buying a couple protectors)
Hmmnnngh. Okay. So here’s the thing. There’s a lot of really good queens in that price range. But taking a recommendation usually supersedes personal comfort, which is why almost all of these asks I deal in generalities rather than specifics. Also because bed names vary by retailer to be confusing because why not.
Just because I think a bed feels good doesn’t mean someone else won’t like something better, and I’ve seen a ton of folks who buy the bed a friend recommends even though their comfort is different. They return it later. So I am going to name names, but it’s very important that you take into consideration how the bed feels not just that I said it’s a good brand. We straight up don’t tell people what we sleep on for this reason because people will just buy that one assuming it’s the best.
Sealy, Serta, and Simmons all make great beds around that price point that I’ve had personal experience with. But as scary as it is the best thing to do is go into a store. The person is there to guide you around. You don’t need encyclopedic knowledge of beds, because it’s all about first how it feels to you. Their job is to help you navigate the showroom from there.
My personal process and what’s still taught in my company is to determine the comfort that fits you, then look at different styles in that comfort. Most folks are a medium-plush if you’re a side sleeper never go firm, ever, for real. Once you know how soft you like it you can compare A-B style between innerspring, hybrid, and foam.
Most people will have a strong preference for one of the three, and you won’t know before trying. Then you can narrow down from there. There’s probably only like six maybe seven beds you need to lay on to find the one!
Regarding the topper: no. Get a bed you like out the gate. When it sags, get a new bed. The ONLY time you will need a topper is if your bed is too hard on shoulders and hips and ideally you’re not buying that because you’ve just bought a super comfy amazing new mattress that’s perfect as is.
You need a thin waterproof protector and sheets and that’s it. Anytime you’re adding stuff like a topper or an extra pillow something is failing you and should get kicked to the curb.
#ask ffs#bed talk#had to physically restrain myself from dropping a highly specific name#of the mattress so universally beloved that some sales people try to hide it from guests cause it has so much bang for your buck#but it’s above your price point and also you might not like it so it’s best to just go lay on some beds
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SWEET LIFE
A/n- this is so self indulgent. like seriously. maknae line x f. reader fluff yes plz! might get a hyung line version bc I like the concept (maybe if yall want it) but this is just a vibe so vibe with me. nsfw (weed mention) . enjoy and feel free to visit my inbox as I am taking requests. <3
Your apartment was a little crowded today. Considering it was everybody's off day. The boys decided to spend most of it at your place. Your apartment for them was a safe haven away from prying eyes and demanding schedules.
You didn't mind having them all over as you hated when you were alone. The noise they brought provided you a piece of comfort. After grueling rehearsals all week and your never-ending day job, this was a much-needed moment of peace.
“Someone take the scissors out of Jisung’s hand thank you very much!” you say as you prepare yourself for the task of taking down your braids. Your next appointment is in the upcoming week and you wanted to give your hair some time to breathe. With the length they're at, it was going to take a while. But of course, your boys are ever excited to help you out. Well most of them.
I feel like you’re scamming me babe.” says Seungmin as he grabs the scissors from Jisung. No one wanted to risk your wraith if he cut too high.
"I don't know what are you talking about Minnie I'd never scam you beloved," you say in your defense.
"yeah because five dollars is a completely reasonable nonscamming price," he says with a smile. Taking your braids gently out of the bonnet you had them in. Seungmin didn't want to pull on them if he could help it.
Jisung, now scissorless, took a seat beside you on the floor. Setting the blunt wraps on the coffee table in front of you. Preparing to roll for you and himself.
"I wish you would let me help more," he said with a pout on his face. You wanted to kiss it off him.
"you are helping sungie your presence is enough. It keeps me calm. Plus no one else rolls a blunt for me as good as you do." you comfort me as you kiss his now smiling lips. That seemed to satisfy him enough as he started the rolling process.
Felix came bounding into the living room from his napping spot in your room, flopping himself on the couch and picking up the remote to the TV. Channel surfing for something interesting to watch.
"Ugh, nothing is interesting to watch on TV. Felix complained while sliding down the couch to the floor as if he was melting in boredom.
"You could always just hook up the game and play Mario Kart or something. Go see if one of the boys wanna play with you," you suggested. Smiling at his antics as he crawled across the floor to give you a kiss. "You always have the best ideas, babe." He said as he practically skipped out of the room. Making your face flush at his praise. Just waving it off as Jisung teased you for your reaction.
A soft moan left your mouth as Seungmin got to the root of a braid. His hands gently unbraiding and giving your scalp a little rub to loosen up the tension. His hands felt so heavenly on your head after the rough week you had.
Felix took his time dragging a sleepy Jeongin into the room. It seems as if he found his gaming partner, although unwillingly. Going straight to the TV to set everything up, meanwhile, Jeongin sleepily made his way to you. Placing his head in your lap as he pulled himself closer to your stomach. You just laughed softly at his cat-like antics. Reminding you of a certain someone.
"Tell Felix to let me sleep." Jeongin groaned. His warm breath hits the exposed skin on your stomach. Hands hin his hair as you stroking softly.
"Now you know once Lix has his mind set on something there is no telling him anything." you comfort the boy.
"But I'm so tired and you're so warm and comfortable Don't make me go over there to that heathen."
Felix can get kind of crazy while gaming but before you could even suggest a solution the sunshine boy dragged the sleepy one out of your embrace. A groan erupts from the latter. There was no saving him now.
An object in front of your vision distracted you from the two gaming boys. It was the blunt Jisung rolled especially for you. To take the edge off a rough week. Encouraging you to take a hit he placed it right between your lips. Murmurung a "There you go. good girl." as you inhaled. Normally you would correct him for goodgirling you but today you didn't care. So you let him get away with it. Plus he could roll one hell of a blunt. And it was kind of hard to be cross with his hand on your thigh and Seungmin'd in your hair. In fact, you were quite content.
"Chan texted he and the hyungs should be home in a bit," Felix said from in front of the TV.
"Good, that's just enough time for Jisung to roll another one," you suggested. Tugging on the hem of his shirt. Maybe you were too high, because you really wanted him to take it off. Yeah, you were so high.
"Hey, I'm not rolling for those losers! I roll for you, and for you only! They have their own hands." Jisung protested as he offered it to Seungmin to which the younger declined, stating that he had to stay focused on your hair. Something about his statement made your heart swell. It's a nice feeling to be cared for.
Jisung then offered to blunt the other two in the room. They on the other hand accepted his offer. It was often he shared his blunts with anyone other than his girl. He said it was the gentlemen in him.
Time passed as you all waited for the older ones to get home. The more that passed the higher you got, and soon enough everyone in the room was higher than you originally intended to be. You could tell in the way everyone was lying to each other. Felix and Jeongin are a pile of limbs, their game long abandoned. Music is playing from the speakers as they whisper secrets to each other, giggling like school children while watching random videos on their phones. You were still seated between Seungmin's legs. His hands still dutifully unbraiding. Ever dedicated to his craft. But you could tell he was contact high as well. You could tell in the way he would kiss your head ever so often. A gentle reminder of his affection for you.
Jisung was sitting in your lap, playing with random parts of your body. Your face arms legs had all been prodded by him, not that it bothered you in the slightest. His touch left sparks all over you. You were having conversations about whatever came to mind. And finding comfort in one another. The atmosphere is warm and cozy. You wish every day could be like this.
#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#stray kids fanfic#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#stray kids reactions#stray kids scenarios#stray kids headcanons#yeahspider#lee felix x reader#lee felix imagines#lee felix fluff#kim seungmin x reader#kim seungmin fluff#kim seungmin imagines#han jisung x reader#han jisung fluff#han jisung imagines#yang jeongin fluff#yang jeongin x reader#yang jeongin imagines
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What is this horror that I just woke up to
Firstly, Luka's tattoo has finally been revealed (too bad it's not where I theorized it was...) Unlike the others, one detail is stark this time, that being that he was awake during the entire process. He's not even lying down when it would probably be less (by a pinch) painful, and more efficient if he did. He's watching. Even helping by keeping his shirt up.
And it seems he is still maintaining his heart rate even through the pain.
(And, expectedly he is thin so this would've hurt a lot more. I wouldn't be surprised if keeping him awake was to benefit his ability of endurance)
And we have his mugshot too. there are a lot of scribbles on his page so I tried to decipher the two clearest ones to me
LUKA - 010401 (His ID number)
And alongside that, we finally have the full cast tattoo process. (save my Till loving heart what are they doing to him.) HyunA and the girls on the top and Luka and the boys on the bottom.
On the topic that the Aliens in ALNST are horrible and can't be bothered to even put the pet humans to sleep while going through such a painful process, it doesn't look like Ivan is spared either and was also awake. otherwise, I don't know how he maintained that grip.
There's no telling for sure yet but his grip looks loose, perhaps he has a good pain tolerance.
And Till's picture. I think that's a full-body restraint right there (Like a straight jacket) If he was awake the whole time too then that's probably to be expected. There also seem to be wires around his face? a mouth gag? I can tell his is just...gonna be horrible to look at. (I am going to cause a scene. bashes my head against the concrete ARGH)
And we have everyone's mugshots, Sua -> Mizi-> Till -> Ivan -> Luka -> HyunA
(These were especially hard to read 💀 but they all seem to have their own signatures on their own pictures )
Sua (x2) - 1132 (in the circled area) - 020201 (That's close to her ID number- 020211.) - The rest is indescribable except for the "No"(?)
Another interesting part of this, we're shown Till's part of the Season 50 data book. A lot of the text is scribbled out.
Lyrics to unknown Till the end (And something scribbled out on the top) it looks like a draft copy. I can't tell if much changed from the version we have today..just got to see when the full version is out.
I tried to decipher as much as I could, take this with a grain of salt but his profile (left) is more of a teacher's note, one of his flaws being that he's aggressive, and he has a strong suit in performance. (Heavy emphasis on practicing music because his performance is his strong suit)
The C might be his overall grade, his only passing class was music.
(So many star scribbles..Mizi liked stars)
-
The album cover looks like a Brain (it reminds me of an MRI scan kinda) Is it Till's brain after all the experiments he's been through? if so, I'm not surprised it seemingly has a lot of abnormalities.
Also, the prominent signature in the middle looks a little bit Like Ivan's.
And finally the main piece, Given the similarities in data the person going through the test is still Sua.
The bandaging on her head is very confusing though, (is this the process of creating Anakt's child?) She also looks like she's yelling more than singing in this piece. (with the tight restraints it's hard to even tell but she doesn't look as relaxed as the second picture.)
Mental - Good (despite the red light?)
Cry (singing. maybe.) - Good
This could be in the literal sense that Sua was actually crying during this test, or this phase of the test. But Aliens have a warped perception of human sounds. They call crying, singing so...I don't know. If there was a lot of resistance from Sua during the earlier phases then the bandage is probably there as another restraint..so many restraints.
#jerjee....rhehehe...im going insane#if Till's tattoo scene..im going to kill something or myself#alien stage#honestly I think all of them besides Mizi were kept up that's probably just protocol#idek though.#thats so painful they could pass out with the right (or wrong) pain endurance#alien stage till#alien stage ivan#alien stage sua#alien stage mizi#alien stage luka#alien stage hyuna#alnst#please kill me now actually take all their pain and give urak period cramps fuck that hag bro#i wish i was elon musk with a private jet i would be at that shop SO FUCKING QUICK#fuck my broke baka life#TILL 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💧💧🌊🌊💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧🌊🌊🌊🌊💧💧💧#dont play pranks on me alnst official i will commit several war crimes for this#alnst ivan#alnst till#alnst mizi#alnst sua#alnst luka#alnst hyuna#this is so wacky i cant wait for alnst to go down the tili tili bom bom route#till alien stage
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As per usual, I'm a bit stuck on my current story, No Benefits(don't worry, I'm working on it but progress is slow.) And this idea popped into my head. Well, the truth is I rewatched the Newsroom and it gave me an idea. If you've seen the show you might see the similarities but it's not identical.
If you haven't seen the show, you really should.
Here's a draft of the prologue, LMK what you think and if you want more.
The Situation Room
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: After a mission almost gone wrong, Tony brings back Bucky's former assistant, who is also Bucky's ex. Can they work together without hurting each other? Will the whole truth about their break up finally come out?
Avengers AU where Thanos never happened.
Prologue
Warnings: Swearing, angst, cannabis usage
Buckys motorcycle roared up the driveway of the Avengers compound, returning from a two week vacation after a mission fiasco. Tony had sent him to his house on Loon Lake, upstate. It was bigger and fancier than Bucky ever needed but secluded, quiet and on the water. Very relaxing. Pretty girls at the bar down the road helped pass the time.
He felt himself tensing as he parked and turned his bike off. Flashes of the drama went through his mind and he shook his head in an attempt to clear it.
His goddamn assistant had risked the mission when she didn't make sure he was fully equipped. She was cute and not bad in the sack but had only lasted a few weeks before forgetting his favorite knife and guns, causing him to be unarmed and unable to protect the civilians he was trying to rush from the building. Thankfully Sam had been close by and able to get them to safety.
Bucky was lucky no one was killed. Well, no innocents were killed but a couple were seriously hurt, including a young girl, maybe 10 years old. He was shot as well but that was healed before he had headed upstate.
The press had a field day and the anti Avengers crowd went nuts. It didn't help that he lost his temper at a reporter who pushed a camera into his face, which he grabbed with his vibranium hand and crushed before returning it to the reporter with a big grin.
Bucky strode into the building, nodding at security as he passed, and went straight for his room to drop his backpack. Then he headed to the common room, just in time for dinner. Most of the team was there and Tony reminded him they needed to meet about the assistant situation.
Obviously his old assistant had been fired but a new one would need to be hired and Bucky hated that whole process. Tony expected him to at least sit in on the interviews since the first three he had were only interviewed by Pepper and washed out within the first week.
After he ate Bucky cleared his plate, confirmed he would meet up with Tony first thing in the morning, and went to bed.
His sleep was interrupted by nightmares of that mission, they had eased while he was gone but were back now that he was home. In his dreams, he failed and innocent people died, he watched that young girl bleed out in his arms before he woke up yelling.
Bucky was up at 5am, worked out, showered, ate and headed to Tony's office. When he arrived Tony's secretary waved him into the office.
Bucky sat across from Tony and waited for him to finish his phone call "Perfect, I really appreciate your help on this. I'll see you in a few minutes?" He paused, listening "No, that's no problem, I'll keep him here."
Tony hung up the call and looked at Bucky with a big grin on his face. "I believe I have solved your assistant problem. I found the perfect person and she'll be here any minute."
Bucky nodded "Great, so I can go now, right." Standing up from his seat, Bucky turned around and saw her. He did a double take, then glared at Tony
"NO! Hell no. No fucking way, this isn't happening Stark. I'm not working with her! Not after what happened. What she did."
Y/N smirked and winked at him while her gut wrenched at the hate in his eyes, she wouldn't let him see her pain. "Nice seeing you again too, Barnes."
Tony shook his head "Sorry pal, you don't get a vote in this. You've gone through 13 assistants in 6 months, not to mention the dozens in the 2 years before that. Y/N was the last one who knew what she was doing. The rest just wanted to get in your bed."
Y/N chuckled "That won't be a problem with me. I wouldn't have even come but I could use a break. Madripoor has been worse than usual since the Power Broker showed up"
Bucky flinched at the mention of Sharon Carter but pushed it aside then smirked "Well we agree on that, you're not getting anywhere near my bed." He looked at Tony "Can I go now?"
Tony nodded. Once Bucky was gone Tony hugged Y/N "Sorry about that but you know how he is better than anyone."
She shrugged sadly "It's fine. I mean he could have gone violent. I'm gonna go get my room unpacked. I'll see you at the team meeting tomorrow morning."
Bucky stalked to his room where he paced angrily for a few minutes before yelling into a pillow then changing and heading to the gym to work it out.
He started on a punching bag and his mind wandered. Why did Tony have to bring her back? There had to be other people out there that could do the job, the rest of the team all had long time assistants and didn't go through all the drama he seemed to. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't hear the door opening.
Steve walked up to him at the same time he broke the punching bag which slid across the room and threw sand everywhere. "You alright there punk?"
Bucky glared at him "Do you know what Tony has done? Did you know?"
Steve sighed "Tony told me this morning. Said he didn't want me tipping you off. I know you're not happy about it but she was the last competent assistant you had. Your mission gear, appointments and paperwork were under control so no goofs like with every assistant you've had since, you know." He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, not wanting to open any old wounds.
Bucky scoffed "How am I supposed to deal with her every fucking day. After everything that happened. I don't know if I can do this without losing it."
Steve nodded "I know but maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe you two can talk and find some kind of closure, even be friends again."
Bucky snorted "Thor been visiting with his fancy liquor? You can't possibly say that and be sober. How can I be friends after she-" he couldn't say it.
"I know jerk but just give it a shot. If it's awful then we'll make changes but at least you'll have tried."
Bucky sighed "I was gonna marry her."
Y/N went to her bedroom, Tony was kind enough to find her a place far from Bucky's quarters, where she had practically lived before everything blew up. She sighed and looked at the boxes stacked up next to the sofa, in her little seating area, before falling into the sofa.
Being in Bucky's presence for just moments was exhausting, forcing her to wade through all the heartache from two years ago. For a long moment she questioned her ability to deal with seeing him again, every day and still so pissed at her. Obviously he still hadn't learned the truth about that day but she wasn't going to try to tell him. She already did that, tried to get to him before anyone else could spin what happened but she was too late and what she found when she tried to go home had blown her life up. She had no reason to expect him to be open to hearing anything from her.
She shook her head to clear the negative thoughts. Bucky might hate her but he needed her, even if he would never admit it. Once his life was back in order and his reputation polished she would disappear back to Madripoor.
When she was done unpacking and organizing her room, Y/N grabbed a sandwich and iced tea from the cooler on the coffee table and sat back to enjoy her dinner. As she cleaned up, she ate a special brownie hoping it would help her sleep but knowing that it wouldn't be enough to stop the nightmares.
Tomorrows meeting would be interesting.
Chapter 1
#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#angst with a happy ending#james bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#Situation Room
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An idea
Aged up reader who is actually Bruce's ex wife, they had married in secret when he was in his first year as batman and then split up because of both his ignorance of he and also him cheating on her with Selina, but now he wants her back, after 20 years he wants her back, BADLY.
Bruce takes the cake, waiting for her to have her piece before he himself digs in. Then finally, after a long pause of silence, he finally has to ask: "Did you ever love me?"
"What do you think?"
He stays quiet, his eyes locked on hers. He knows the answer. He's known it for years now, yet he can't bring himself to truly accept it. "Do I think you loved me? Yes. I know you did." What hurts the most is that she doesn't say "yes" herself. That she's just sitting across from him, not answering the question. But her silence is an answer in itself. It's one that hurts more than anything to hear.
"When you know then why do you ask?"
Bruce stays silent for a moment, processing all of this before answering your question with one of his own: "Why do I still love you after all that time? After all the distance? After not seeing you for so long?"
"Why?"
He swallows the lump in his throat. It's a tough question to answer, but he has to be honest. "I don't know how anyone can forget the person they shared a life with... that they had a future with for so long," he says quietly. "I suppose I still love you because I can't help but still picture that future with us."
"It's been 20 years Bruce, I think you've spent enough time to realize we couldn't be together"
"Maybe so, but I have to tell you that in these twenty years since... it hasn't gotten easier as you'd think it might. I'm still hurt by the loss of you in my life." He sighs. "Maybe you're right. But at the same time... it's hard not to think about what might've been if we were able to make things work."
"If we were going to go back together, what would you do?"
It takes Bruce a moment to contemplate his answer. Because it's a question he never honestly thought he would ever be asked. But here he is now, being faced with that very scenario. What would he do if they were able to go back together? What changes would have to be made? Or what changes would he be willing to make? How far would he go, just to have her back in his life again?
She arched her brow, waiting for his answer.
"I would do.... anything you'd wanted me to," he says as he looks straight into her eyes. He's not sure she fully realizes what he means. "I would give up everything. Including being Batman. If it meant we would be together." After everything he's been through in his life... as Bruce Wayne and as Batman... he means it when he says this. He's willing to do whatever it takes just to have her back.
"Oh dear..."
"Do you not feel the same way?" Bruce asks. "Have I not spent enough time alone with my thoughts? Enough time thinking back on our memories? Enough time working through what we could've been as a couple? Enough time imagining a life with you?"
"I have to think about it..."
"Think about this..." Bruce doesn't want to force her into giving up her answer. But he can't stay quiet about his feelings any longer either. "Think about all the things I've given up to be as Batman." He pauses for a moment to let this sink in. "All the sacrifices... the years where I should've been by your side, and I wasn't." He leans in closer now. He wants to try and make the case for himself. Try and convince her of his genuine intentions.
"We both know it wasn't just your life as batman..."
Here it is again... that reality check. That one reminder that Bruce is fully aware of. The reason why he and she grew so distant in the first place. Still, he stays quiet for a bit before speaking. "You're right. It wasn't just the years of being Batman... there were others things getting in the way too." He thinks back to his other love, Selina. To the years he spent with her and what he lost in order to pursue that relationship. His focus is back on her again.
"You were marrying Selina at one point, how can I trust that you won't choose her over me again if she wanted you back?"
"What I did with Selina, there's no excuses for," Bruce confesses. "I know it was a betrayal to you, to our past, to everything we'd planned together." "But Selina is in the past. And I've finally cut ties with her. I'm not looking to be with her anymore. I can't give you any reassurance for what the future holds. I can't give you that for what will happen from one day to the next. But I can give you my word that I'll never walk out on you again."
"What will ensure that?"
"Nothing in this life is guaranteed, but what I can tell you is that I'm not the same man I was then." He leans in closer to her, looking straight at her. "I'm older. I'm wiser. And I understand what I want my life to be like. And if I'm being honest... I already have it. Just being here and spending time with you again means more to me than you can imagine." "I may not be able to give you any guarantees... but what I can give you is my heart."
She gave him a hesitant look, putting her fork down. Chewing on the cake slowly as she contemplated his answer.
Bruce waits patiently for her to come to an answer. This is it... the moment where she decides to either rekindle the flame they once shared or walk away once more. Whatever her answer may be, he'll accept it. He'll understand if she needs more time to figure everything out as well. But here's hoping her answer is the one he's secretly hoping for.
"I just don't want anyone to know about us yet...alright? You know how much I care about my privacy"
Bruce can't contain his excitement. But he does his best to play it cool in the cafe. He wouldn't want to draw too much attention to their little reunion here. "Of course, darling." Bruce nods in her direction, his hand almost reaching for hers. "We'll keep everything quiet. Our little secret... and I promise that nobody will ever find out." As much as he wants his friends and family to know about this unexpected reunion between them, he knows that her privacy is important to her. For now, their love and reconciliation will be their little secret.
She sighed and smiled for the first time, playing with the cream on her cake.
He smiled back, reaching his hand across the small table as he gently takes her hand into his. In that moment, it was like they had transported back in time, back to when they were young and before the pain and betrayal of their relationship. For a couple of moments, they held each other's hands while taking in the silence of the small cafe.
"What will happen to us? I mean...we are old now!" She said in a chuckle "It's been a long time..."
"Too long," Bruce replies warmly. His smile grows wider as she chuckles to herself, her words warming his heart. "But I don't see why we should worry about that for now. Let's just catch up for now and figure everything else out later. You know, once we've decided if this is the path we both want to take together."
She nodded, tangling her fingers with his.
A warmth spread through Bruce's body as he felt a familiar feeling of her fingers interwoven with his own. Something about the feeling made Bruce feel like he was finally becoming whole again, that this reunion with her was the cure for the loneliness he's been feeling for all these years. "I need to tell you something, darling."
"Hmm?" She hummed, still playing with her cake.
"You were right. When we first got married, I couldn't give you the love you deserved." He looks straight at her, waiting for her reaction. He was prepared for her to be upset, but deep down he hoped she wouldn't. "But now, being in your presence again... it's like I'm suddenly seeing something I've been missing all these years." "You were the only one I truly loved, darling. I just didn't know it then. But I do now."
She gave him a half sarcastic smirk "Oh you..."
"No, I'm serious," Bruce protested. "From the first moment I laid eyes on you... this was my destiny. This was what was always meant to be. Us... this..." He gestures around the cafe. "I don't care how many years have passed. That feeling I felt for you when I first met you all those years ago... it never went away. It's only grown. Because it's true love. It's real."
She chuckled, shaking her head as she looked out of the window, watching the rain pour down with a sigh "You could have told me sooner you know, saving 20 years of loneliness..."
"You don't think I didn't regret that?" Bruce asks. "If only you knew... the nights I spent alone, thinking about the life we could've had together. The days when I was Batman and feeling just... empty. The nights crying myself to sleep because I wished you were... Just here." For the first time in a long time, Bruce looks down at the floor, unable to meet her eyes. He takes a long, sad breath. "I never got over you. Darling, if there was any one person who had the power to heal my broken heart... it was you."
She didn't turn her head at him, but kept his hand in hers, her instincts told her that is was not a good idea at all, Bruce had changed alot since the time they were married, too much in fact, he could now do dark things, much darker than she could imagine, but her heart wanted him back.
They sit in silence for a long while, Nina still holding onto Bruce's hand. Slowly, her head turns towards him. She notices his eyes are fixed to the floor in front of them. And then, she does the unexpected: She moves her hand along Bruce's arm towards his shoulder. Her fingers caress his shirt sleeve. She knows it's going to have him turn his attention on her. She's done something similar, long years ago, to get his attention as well. "Bruce?"
"Promise me you won't leave me again?"
Bruce looks up just in time to see her holding him in her gaze. And before he can even answer, he reaches his other hand down to hold her face in his hands. "I swear, darling" he says softly. "For as long as I live, you will always be the one. I'll never leave you. I'll be with you for the rest of my life." His gaze drops back down onto her face, their foreheads now touching. "You will always be mine, and I will always be yours."
#yandere#yandere batman#blue talks#yandere dc#yandere jason todd#yandere dick grayson#yandere tim drake#yandere alfred pennyworth#yandere bruce wayne#aged reader#idea#reunion
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Looking at your recent posts/reblogs has reminded me of how much I hate the conversation between Dean and Bobby at the beginning of 4.22 when Dean is trying to deal with the fact that Sam has chosen to trust Ruby instead of him, when Dean can see that he’s obviously being manipulated, and, in response, Bobby just says
You stupid, stupid son of a bitch! Well, boo hoo, I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! Are you under the impression that family's supposed to make you feel good?! Bake you an apple pie, maybe? They're supposed to make you miserable! That's why they're family!
and I feel like that line just summarizes how so many people view Dean both in the show & in discourse about it: that whenever he’s upset by something someone does, he’s being overdramatic, and the tension it creates is his fault for not just accepting that his loved ones will make him miserable.
(& the context of the quote is kind of the perfect example of this because Dean has spent the whole season trying to deal with his own trauma from hell & the fact that the angels won’t leave him alone while also continually giving Sam chances to be upfront about what’s going on with him and trying to warn him that Ruby is manipulating him into doing what she wants, and when that tension finally breaks because Sam refuses to believe—or even consider—any of Dean’s suspicions about Ruby, Dean is basically told by Bobby that he should just let it go)
I agree with you—and that speech is absolute trash.
To frame Bobby's reaction here a little, he and Dean have some conversations in 4.21 and 4.22 that I think leave Bobby pretty unsettled. I think his emotional reaction is driven by that.
In 4.21, Dean and Bobby don't see things the same way when it comes to Sam's demon blood detox and they also disagree on Dean intending to sacrifice himself by signing himself over to the angels to protect Sam. So I'd say leading into 4.22, Bobby is already apprehensive about Sam and Dean both being killed. We know he didn't weather Dean's death at the end of season 3 well.
In 4.22, right before Bobby blows up at him, Dean is also jumping to some conclusions about his relationship with Sam that are pretty extreme.
DEAN No, damnit! No. I gotta face the facts. Sam never wanted part of this family. He hated this life growing up. Ran away to Stanford first chance he got. Now it's like déjà vu all over again. Well, I am sick and tired of chasing him. Screw him, he can do what he wants. BOBBY You don't mean that. DEAN Yes I do, Bobby. Sam's gone. He's gone. I'm not even sure if he's still my brother anymore. If he ever was.
I think Dean having to work through thoughts like this is understandable given probably less than 24 hours ago, Sam was strangling him unconscious in absolutely seething rage, had spent the entirety of the season lying to Dean and then getting indignant when Dean caught on, and reiterated the incredibly damaging things he said about Dean's hell trauma from 4.14. At the same time, I don't think Dean's thinking straight. Sam's motivations in the demon blood arc are incredibly multi-faceted... but hating hunting or their family simply is not part of this situation. This is made most clear to us just a couple episodes before in 4.19 (where Sam tries to push Adam into hunting and praises their father for teaching them to protect themselves—and this certainly didn't go unnoticed by Dean who confronted him about it). The bit about not wanting to hunt hasn't been true in years and won't resurface again for several more. It seems like Dean is just swirling through a lot of unaddressed hurt and misunderstandings from the past as he processes through the last year.
I think Dean saying he is done trying and he has tried and tried and tried and he is not doing it anymore is completely reasonable (he also has no idea yet that Lilith is the last seal), but I think when presented with the harm Bobby knows Sam is doing to his body by proceeding, thinking about "his boys", Bobby sees Sam as being in more imminent danger and wants Dean to reach out one last time to try and get through to him. Dean's rare show of verbal processing sets Bobby on edge and because he's human too, he says some stupid things. And if we're being real, Bobby is like this sometimes. I love Bobby to death, and in a general sense, I think he's very caring and supportive toward the people he loves. But when he himself is scared or angry or otherwise agitated, his patience evaporates and other people's vulnerability makes him upset. "The Curious Case of Dean Winchester" is a more sympathetic example of this. Bobby is angry and raw and deeply depressed, and Dean's well-meaning love and support—no matter how casually offered—is received like poison because it reminds him that he is not okay. The same sort of language about Dean being a pansy and how they're both going to "grow lady parts" shows up from Bobby in this episode.
I go back and forth on what Kripke was thinking when he wrote that dialogue, because the man is absolutely obsessed with the exploration of "toxic masculinity", which I think he's done well at times and extremely poorly at others, and I think Bobby's speech clearly embodies that interest. At the same time, I actually do think that, leading into season 5, there are some aspects to the fallout of Sam and Dean's season 4 conflict that are ultimately just very lazily brushed over and so I do think he bought the shit he had Bobby shoveling to an extent. Setting the content and tone aside, in a vacuum, the idea that Dean has to be the one to reach out—while exhausting—plays into the idea of Dean as the hero character. And when I say this, I don't mean that Sam isn't a hero. Sam is VERY much trying to be the unconventional hero this season. But Dean is often made to embody the concept of the righteous hero as an ideal, and part of being the righteous hero in season 4 means ultimately being... right (in more ways than you even knew) but another part of it is having to be the bigger person. Your wrath has to be tempered by love. We could go further down this rabbithole as far as themes and meta narrative, but none of this, from a human perspective, makes me like this speech any more. It just sucks balls.
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Grayson with fem!pregnant reader? 🫣
grayson hawthorne x pregnant!reader
hii, i hope you like it. if you have any other specific scenario in mind you can req!!
warning: mention of tobias, panick attack, feeling unworthy, abandonment issue if you squint.
The volume of her voice was slowly disappearing to Grayson. He could feel the sweat on head and palms as his heart was beating faster than it should. This cannot be happening. No, he's young even if he wasn't this can't happen. Even if it is with her.
“Grayson!” Her voice raised, the way her chest was rising up and down showed him that she's just as afraid as him. Grayson was not mentally prepared for this situation. This situation never occurred in his mind ever. “Say something.” She pleaded.
He exhaled through his mouth and said “I-I need a moment.”
“Wait!” He didn't hear anything else as he stormed out of the room grabbing his key from her apartment.
He drove back to the Hawthorne House. He prayed no one would be there as he went straight to the pool. With just his boxers Grayson dived into the pool, he stayed down for more than usual.
Images of his own biological father and his words came to his mind. Words of his grandfather, how he raised Grayson and his brothers, how he has damaged them. Grayson doesn't know any other way, he was under his grandfather's wing, he was raised to be perfect and extraordinary. And yet he was the most damaged Hawthorne. By heavens he found her and she has accepted him for him. But a child? How will it accept a broken father who knows nothing about raising children other than the way his grandfather had.
All he could think was how disappointed his grandfather would be in him if he was here, how he would point out Grayson’s irresponsible action. How he would have ‘handled’ the situation like he handled his mother’s.
When he finally stopped swimming his life out he checked his phone expecting her to call him but he found none. Zero calls and texts from her. He immediately grabbed his clothes and walked as fast as he could to his car to drive to her apartment.
He hated himself right then for how selfish he has been. He didn't think about her, who is actually carrying their child. He let his emotions and personal issues get all over. He will never forgive himself for how he left her there.
When he reached her apartment he knocked hastily. He was scared, she'll be mad and won't let him in. She will raise their child alone rather than let it be raised by someone like him. Someone who couldn't even process important news like an adult. Someone broken as him, unworthy of being a father. Maybe the baby will be better off without him.
He stopped knocking and was about to leave when the door opened. He expected her to ask him to leave but instead her face relaxed, in relief to see him and stepped forward to hug him.
He whispered her name.
“I thought you weren't going to come back.” She cried in his arms. “I thought you were leaving me. Leaving us.”
“You're not mad?” He asked, surprised.
“I was, I thought you needed time to process. But it was getting late, Gray. I thought you did not want us.” She pulled back to see him, her eyes were pooled with tears.
“I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have just taken off like that. Please forgive me. I swear you'll never not see me after this moment. I'll be by your side all the time. You can move to my House, or I could move here. Or we could get a new house, bigger. All three of us cannot live in this apartment, if you don't want to come to Hawthorne House.” He would have kept going on about how he would handle this if she didn't stop him.
“Grayson.” She chuckled. “We do not have to get a new house, the baby isn't coming out anytime soon.”
“Right.” He was relieved that she stopped crying.
“I do not forgive you for leaving me like that for a while without a word.” She reminded him.
“I know. And I'll do everything to make it up to you.”
“I know you will. And I do not want to bother your family by moving there.”
“You won't, they won't even notice you've moved. They'd be happy to be honest. And you must see The Hawthorne Nursery.”
“I will. We'll decide where we will be after the baby when the baby is born. We have plenty of time.”
_
Hawthorne Gc
Jameson: Grayson is PREGNANT.
_
5 months later the baby bump was showing and Grayson couldn't be more content. He had his moments where he didn't feel worthy enough to be a father but after he told her why he stormed off she understood him and assured him he will be wonderful. He has brought multiple books on parenting and looked up videos. His love for his girlfriend only seemed to be growing more than it ever did. He barely let her walk, even in the house.
“This sucks.” She said after swallowing the food. He has also been patient with her mood swings.
“You used to love this, my love.” He reminded her.
“It sucks now.” But she ate anyway.
She suddenly stood up. “What is it?”
“I have to pee.” She has also grown to accept and love his pampering. She let him help her to the bathroom, sometimes he even used to carry her from room to room. He spoonfed her most of the time. He reads to her and after she falls asleep he reads a children's book to the baby bump or tells some stories about its mother and how much he loves him or her. The fear he had five months ago vanished completely, he couldn't wait to become a father, to hold his baby and raise it with her.
#the inheritance games#grayson hawthorne#grayson hawthorne x reader#the brothers hawthorne#the grandest game#the hawthorne brothers
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Heart and Seoul
Genre: tooth-aching fluff
Relationship type: married nonidol!Chan x fem reader
Important Contents: thank you the request friend :) I immediately got an idea when you sent this to me and I'm sorry it took so long to write. I hope you like it.
request can be seen here.
WC: 1.8k
masterlist
Hubby: Guess what I got???
A picture arrived a second later of three plane tickets, all with the same destination: Seoul, South Korea. A flash of shock hit me and my fingers worked faster than my brain could process.
“Isn’t it awesome?! My parents helped pay for them so don’t worry, I didn’t spend too much money. Well, not yet anyways. I’m going to buy a snow suit for Celeste because she’s never seen snow before and she’ll want to play in it because if she’s anything like me but that’s beside the point!” Chris was so excited and when he was excited, he rambled about everything and anything. A change that occurred after he became a dad, but a welcome one at that. Getting him to share his feelings wasn’t too too hard when I came along, but ever since his daughter was born, he was a babbling mess. A good change, really. After five years, he’d really mellowed out with her safety. She had too many clothes to begin with with the overexcitement of her arrival from her uncles, but now she was down to only a few new outfits a week, and now he at least acted like he was thinking about it when he changed his mind from a ‘no’ to a ‘yes’. He couldn’t deny his little girl anything.
“Chris, she has snow clothes. Her grandmother bought some for her the last time we went to Korea in the winter just in case it snowed, which she’s still upset about.”
“I know, the weather app is stupid, they never know anything.”
“Chris! She has enough clothes! We’re going to have to give her our master closet if you keep buying her more things!” He was quiet to this, like he was actually thinking about the logistics of it. “Babe, she’s not getting our closet.”
“I know!”
“You were thinking about it though.”
“...Maybe. Then I was thinking about everything else I could buy her with all that room.”
“Chris…” I said warningly.
“I’m done, I’m done. She’s not getting our closet.”
“Good.”
“But she is getting a snow suit. Okay, love you, bye!” I clutched my phone as he hung up, shaking my head and wondering where in the world he was going to put one more thing she didn’t need. It wasn’t like he was buying nonsense, it was just that he couldn’t tell her no if she really wanted something. He was a good dad like that.
Me: Christmas with the uncles sounds good :)
Hubby: Start packing. We leave in three days :)
Me: Won’t mom be upset we won’t be in Sydney for the holiday?
Hubby: My mom will be fine, she’s used to holidays without me.
Me: Don’t remind me
Hubby: It’s yours we have to worry about.
It was true, I was worried that my mother would be upset about a holiday without her grandchild. She loved them more than anything, cherished her truly. The more I thought about it, the worse I felt about it.
Hubby: We’ll tell her together. We’re adults now, we can choose to spend the holidays wherever we like.
Always reading my mind, my husband.
The front door opened and shut, letting in the Sydney breeze along with it and a head of dark hair waltzed right in. Heading straight for the fridge, she reached for a small bag of apple slices just out of her reach.
“Mommy!”
“Yes, baby, do you need some help?” I was already off my stool at the kitchen island and heading towards her.
“Yes please!” She turned her shining eyes towards me, just as warm and comforting as her father’s. Her smile pushed her round cheeks upwards toward her eyes, just like his. Chan said she had my nose and he was more thankful for that than anything. He hated his nose.
She was still reaching for the bag, knocking a bottle of water to the floor. “Whoops! I’ll get it Mommy.”
“Oh thank you Cece, that was very helpful of you.” She loved hearing these things, loved hearing how she helped someone. Anyone. More of her father’s features shining through, she just loved to help in any way she could. I opened the bag and handed it to her. “There you go, baby .Do you want to watch some TV before your grandmas and grandpas come over for dinner?”
Once in a while, all the grandparents came over for dinner to spend time with the three of us. They wanted to see their Cece before all the holiday craziness came and they had to get busy with everything else that came with the holidays.
With the house smelling like grilled meat and rice, the doorbell rang like chimes in the wind, a touch from Chris when we bought the house. Cece ran to the door, yelling “I got it, I got it!” She opened the door to both sets of grandparents flinging their arms wide open at the sight of her at the door, her red sparkly dress swinging as she lept for them. They hugged her, bags swinging from their arms as all four of them came around her.
I was luckier than most with my in-laws. They had welcomed me with the most open of arms into their family and made me feel like a part of the family, like they had always been there just waiting for me. My parents got along with them, his mother bonding with mine over their love of plants and house decor. Our fathers got along with sports, the only issue ever being who was paying for the wedding (they both wanted to pay for it). They loved me and I loved them. I knew this situation wasn’t common, so I cherished it whenever they all came together.
“Cece, are you going to let them come in?” I laughed while they hugged her, knowing they wouldn't let go until she did.
“Oh, it’s fine, she’s fine.” Chris’s mom said while the others were putting their belongings in the hall closet. She picked up her favorite grandchild and held her until she arrived in the living room with all her toys neatly stacked. Celeste had a habit that she picked up from her father of finding joy in organization. It had to come from him because it definitely did not come from me.
As the other grandparents gathered around Cece on the floor, my dad followed me out the back door to find Chris hard at work grilling. They hugged and we watched Chris grill.
“How’s the producing business, Chris?” Neither took their eyes off the meat.
“It’s good! Keeps me busy, but I get to meet celebrities so it has it’s perks. And the company is still good with letting me off for time with Cece. So I can’t complain.”
“That’s because you still work on your days off. I still haven’t been able to stop him.”
I sighed and gave Chan’s back a reproachful look. My dad chuckled.
“Honey, you haven’t been able to stop him from working since you started dating. Remember Valentine’s Day a couple years ago?”
“Hey!” Chan finally turned around, mouth open in mock shock. “You said you were okay! You know how hard it was to get Tiger JK to actually sit down and work with me.”
“I do! And I’m still proud you managed to get it done in time.” I smiled and took his free hand that wasn’t holding a giant pair of tongs. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be a little salty that you had to miss our second Valentines together.” His eyes squinted.
“And have I made it up to you every year since?” He cocked his eyebrow.
“I need a beer! Anybody else?” My dad quickly jumped up to head back inside for said refreshment. I shot Chan a smirk.
“Was that necessary?”
“Hey, he could’ve done the math. Cece was born in November.” I rolled my eyes. His tone suddenly got serious. “Do you want to tell them now or after we eat?”
“After. Let them enjoy their time with her now.”
*
“You what?!”
The plates were cleared, Cece was passed out on the couch watching her favorite show, and the news had just come out. My mother, ever the drama queen, was fanning herself from the news. My father was helping her, if only to save himself the pain of a scolding from her later.
“Well, they’re adults now, honey. They can do what they like.”
“But they’re taking her for the holidays too, Richard. Did you think about that?”
“Yes I did. They’ll be fine, they’ll be back afterwards.”
“And besides,” Chan’s mom interjected. “You can spend it with us! We can get wine-drunk and celebrate Christmas ourselves without the kids.”
Chris grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers. My mother just watched us smile at each other.
“We miss Korea, mom. And Christmas is such a wonderful time of year, I just think this year we want to spend it differently. We’ll pick you up some of your favorite face cream while we’re there, too.”
“So the trip won’t be a total waste for you!” Chris tried to placate her, but her face remained unchanged. “Alright Mom, what about this: when we get back, you guys can have Celeste for a whole weekend, just her and you.” She perked up at that.
“Friday to Monday?”
“You can even bring her back Monday night.” Chris, ever the diplomat. A rush of pride went through me. My mom thought about it for a moment.
“Deal.”
Chris’s dad piped in.
“What about us?!”
*
Celeste did really well for her first plane ride. We arrived at the Incheon Airport around noon, but we didn’t know what awaited us outside until we stepped outside to our car waiting to take us to our hotel. Driven by Hyunjin with a passenger seat occupied by Felix, they waved us over before climbing out of the car to fling their arms open for Celeste, who stopped halfway to them, noticing the white fluff all around.
“Daddy, what’s that?” she asked, her voice dripping in wonder. Her eyes shining with pure curiosity, she ignored her uncle’s waiting arms to hold her arms out to catch the falling flakes. They disappeared as quickly as they had landed in her hand, but that didn’t stop her from trying to catch all of the snowflakes in her immediate vicinity. She jumped and reached, trying to reach the clouds they were falling from. This insanely cute action was met with laughter from all angles, and before she knew it, she was hoisted into the air by her uncle to get a closer look.
Chris and I stood by and let them catch up and enjoy the cold.
“She’s so cute. She takes after you, you know.” I placed a hand on my stomach.
“I dunno. Maybe this one will be just as cute.”
#bang chan#skz#chan skz#skz bang chan#chan stray kids#chan x reader#chan x you#stray kids#christopher bang#stray kids chris#bang chan dad#dad bang chan#bang chan drabbles#bang chan x reader#bang chan scenarios#bang chan husband#chris bang husband#chris skz#chris stray kids#chris bang#chan fluff#chan husband#chan dad#stray kids imagine#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#stray kids fluff#stray kids scenarios#stray kids bang chan#stray kids chan
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Hey sickly anon here. I feel like I should explain myself a little. I was really worked up last night and just kinda sent that ask without any context and I know it must look like a troll ask.
I get that there is a lot of content focusing on thin readers/women(I don't much like those either)
It's not really that I'm super bothered by protrayals of different weight, it was just the phrasing that hit a nerve last night I think. I got sick in highschool and soon legitimately looked like a gaunt skeleton(still do tbh :/)
So not the cute desirable version of thin. More of the "is she terminal? poor thing.." To this day I get people doing horrified double-takes at me because of how I look so I guess it's slowly made me ultra sensitive about it.
And last night I had a guy get in my face and legit SCREAM because I couldn't process his return since he didn't have a receipt. And then had to do basically 3 people's jobs because 2 different coworkers decided to go to the club last night instead of work. A typical day in retail I guess.
So I get home and go straight to your blog because its a big comfort for me and I just kinda crumpled being reminded of my mess of a body.
But it wasn't really your fault. Like when you have a REALLY bad day and one more barely noteworthy little thing goes wrong/feels bad (like you drop your spoon or something) and you just McFricken lose it and can't stop the tears.
That was me last night lol. A little embarrassing in retrospec after I slept it off. I hope you don't think I was attacking you personally or anything. I was overwhelmed and just felt hurt and had to express myself somehow (did a terrible job of it I know lol. I was flustered.)
TL;DR: had a really bad day at work, getting reminded of my health condition and appearance was the last tiny nudge I needed to become a crybaby, cried about it, went to sleep, woke up feeling better and a little embarrassed I let it bother me so much.
Anyways, shenanigans aside I hope you have a good weekend :)
Hey, thanks for coming back to clarify, I preciate it. It’s no big deal, this is all a bunch of fictional stuff on the internet after all.
I grew up with a mother with severe eating disorders that put her in the ER multiple times. The way she views being fat as the ugliest thing you can be to the point she would rather die than be that way has become my inner voice for a long while and I’ve only just started to deal with my own eating disorder. The Fulgrim chubby chaser thing was just a fun meme that I was encouraging because so much of reader insert stuff has the “thigh gaps and running fingers through your hair, tiny cocktail dresses and picking you up” and it’s fun to pretend that maybe someone might like the way I look XD
And just because I answer a few asks about chubby people, they all exist in their own universe and it’s not like that’s canon. I have plenty others that don’t mention anything at all.
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