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littlcdarlin · 22 hours ago

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My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 || read on AO3

summary: Joel and reader's vacation continues and lines start to blur. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv, creampie, cunnilingus, sexual tension, blow jobs, smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair (will add more as I add more parts)

note: happy new year to all of you, and sorry for the long wait! I was completely flashed by the love you showed for part 1 (THANK YOU!!!), and wanted to live up to your expectations. I’ll try to write part 3 as quickly as possible! Sorry if there's any typos, I edited this while severely hungover

The afternoon at the beach was relaxing and lighthearted after you agreed with Joel and stopped studying so much, and you find that apart from having a body that makes you clench your thighs together, he’s interesting to talk to. He doesn’t give you the same bullshit about university and acting responsibly, but rather accepts that there are things you dislike about your degree. He doesn’t offer advice on how to learn to enjoy those things, he just nods when you tell him you’ve learnt to deal with them. He treats you like an adult, someone who makes their own informed choices – something your life has been sorely lacking.

You head back to the rooms in comfortable silence, and you enjoy the way Joel’s arm almost grazes yours. When you think about the flutter in your stomach for too long it’s ridiculous, but it’s so easy to leave behind the morals and expectations of home when all you’re facing right now is an all-inclusive dinner and as many cocktails as you want. You aren’t planning on getting drunk if Joel isn’t, but you want to have fun tonight. You haven’t been on a real vacation in ages.

You take another shower once you’re in your room, wash away the sunscreen and sea salt, until your hair is all soft again and you smell like shampoo. The hotel restaurant isn’t super fancy, but you feel like putting in a little effort, so you pick out a black dress you like, and wear your sandals again. You wonder if you’ll get cold – the days are burning hot, but at night there’s a cool breeze that might make you regret your choice of clothes. Fuck it, you think, you haven’t had an occasion to dress up in ages, and getting Joel all flustered again sure seems like reason enough. You grab your purse, phone and keycard, and head to the door.

Joel opens his door at the same time you do, and you swallow when you see he’s changed outfits, too. His hair is slightly damp and all curly, he’s wearing black jeans and a simple black t-shirt with an unbuttoned, flowy linen shirt over it. The sleeves are rolled up to reveal his forearms. It’s stylish. You didn’t expect Joel Miller to look stylish.

"Wow," you say with a smile. "You clean up nice."

Joel just huffs, but his eyes ghost over your dress for a second too long. He doesn’t answer.

When you get to the restaurant, Joel pulls out your chair for you, which earns him a blinding smile. Stylish and a gentleman, who would have thought? Back home he always seemed like a grumpy lumberjack to you, and although you do find him excruciatingly attractive in his flannels, you’re intrigued to find out what else you didn’t know about him.

"Is it really all-inclusive?", you ask, gazing at the menu and not quite believing you can order anything you’d like and not pay for it.

"Sure. You want a cocktail?"

"If you’ll have one with me?"

Joel holds your gaze, but shakes his head.

"I think I prefer whiskey over that sweet stuff," he says, and you make a face.

"Fine, whiskey it is, then," you say, and Joel frowns.

"You don’t have to drink what I’m drinkin’. Have a cocktail."

This time you’re the one to shake your head.

"It’s no fun, having cocktails on your own. But I haven’t had whiskey in ages, maybe I like it better now."

The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches.

"Ages, huh? How long have you been allowed to drink again?"

You smile, but don’t dignify his question with an answer, and after a moment Joel chuckles and looks back at the menu.

"Fine, I’ll have a Gin Fizz," he says, looking up again. "You?"

He wants to order a cocktail, just so that you can enjoy having one, too. Your stomach flutters.

"Joel, you don’t have t-"

"I know I don’t. I’m having a Gin Fizz."

There’s a finality to his tone, but his voice is friendly. You give him a reluctant smile, one that isn’t ironic or half-joking. He smiles back, and leans back in his chair, eyes still on yours. You study the menu again, this time having a closer look at the cocktails.

"Sex on the beach," you say seriously, and Joel snorts.

"Clever."

***

You do end up drinking a sex on the beach, and Joel actually enjoys his gin fizz. The food is delicious, Joel lets you try a piece of his steak and you offer him a bite of your fish, but he declines with a disgusted look on his face that makes you grin. No seafood for Joel Miller, then.

Joel orders you another cocktail when the waiter clears your plates, and you smile to yourself. He’s being courteous.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Miller?", you ask, the corner of your mouth twitching. Joel raises an eyebrow.

"I think you’re managin’ that without my help."

He’s right, of course – your long day of traveling makes the buzz in your head more prominent, and although you’re nowhere near drunk, your tongue is a little looser than usually, and you find it much easier to hold Joel’s eye-contact.

"I’m glad I came here," you say all of a sudden, the thought fleeting, but true. "I needed a break."

Joel’s smile is honest, when he answers.

"I’m glad you came, too. It’d be boring, bein’ here on my own."

"Right," you say, "who would get you to drink cocktails? You’d be stuck drinking disgusting whiskey and wallowing in your loneliness."

Joel smiles, shaking his head slightly, and takes a sip of his Gin.

"You wanna head down to the beach?", you ask when your glasses are empty and you feel a little woozy from the second cocktail. Joel looks surprised.

"I love the sea at night," you say a little dreamily, voice trailing off.

"Sure. Let’s go," Joel just answers.

The air outside is cool, just like you anticipated, and you shiver slightly, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep the goosebumps at bay. Joel notices, and immediately shrugs out of his linen shirt, handing it to you. You stare at him.

"Take it," he insists, and you do, the fabric soft in your hands. You slip it on, the sleeves coming down to your fingertips, the collar smelling of Joel’s cologne. You wonder why it took you two cocktails to notice how good he smells. When you’re done rolling up the sleeves, you look up and find Joel watching you quietly. Your eyes meet – he looks away, and starts walking again.

You’re pleasantly tipsy, walking to the beach at night, wearing Joel Miller’s clothes and brushing his arm with yours every once in a while. It feels a little surreal.

"Aren’t you cold now?", you ask after a couple of minutes of quiet.

"No," Joel answers, his voice a little rougher than before, "’sides, you wear it better anyway."

You flush, and when you don’t answer, he looks at you.

"Jesus, sorry," he mumbles. "I didn’t…it slipped out. Just meant you look pretty, is all."

Your stomach swirls pleasantly, and you want Joel to put his arm around your shoulder, or kiss you, or take that shirt off again. You clear your throat.

"Thanks," you answer quietly, toying with the hem of the shirt. "I think you wore it well, too, though. Suits you."

Joel doesn’t answer, but when you glance at him, you notice the ghost of a smile on his face, half-hidden by his patchy beard.

You walk the rest of the way in contemplative silence, each of you lost in your thoughts. You’re always amazed to see the sea at night. The darkness somehow elevates its vastness, water and sky bleeding into each other at the near invisible horizon. It’s easy to forget about your exams here, with the whole expanse of the planet spread out before you, the relentlessly calm sound of the waves, and Joel’s scent in your nose. You sit down on an abandoned deck chair and watch Joel walk up to the water, pick up a seashell, and drop it into the water again. He seems content to be here, you think. Relaxed. You don’t know him well, but his body language seems more at ease than it did back home. Perhaps you’re not the only one who needed a break.

You get up again, and walk over to Joel, who smiles when he sees you coming.

"You were right," he says, "it’s different in the dark."

You know he means the sea, the beach, the lack of people around, the sand that burned your feet only hours ago now having a cooling effect. Still, his words leave room for interpretation and you don’t miss the way his gaze moves over your form in his shirt.

"Thanks for the cocktails," you say quietly, "and the shirt."

Joel looks over at you, but you don’t have the guts to look at him. You can’t quite be sure what the moonlight and scenery will make you do, not when he’s never looked more handsome, and you’re more than tipsy.

"You’re welcome," he says honestly. "I know you’re doin’ this for your Dad more than anything, but I hope you’re still havin’ fun."

He’s self-conscious, or something close to it, wondering how he could make this trip more enjoyable for you – so he orders cocktails he doesn’t like and lets you wear his clothes.

"I am having fun," you reassure him. "I’m at the beach at night wearing a guy’s shirt who got me all the cocktails I wanted, instead of studying at my desk for the millionth night in a row."

Joel chuckles.

"My Dad should break his leg more often," you sigh, digging the heel of your foot into the sand. Joel doesn’t answer.

When you walk back to the hotel, you feel the ghost of his hand on your lower back, not touching, but lingering, as if he instinctively wants to stir you in the right direction, or keep you from stumbling. It makes that flutter in your stomach reappear.

You pass reception to get to the elevators, and the same woman is still there, smiling when he recognizes you.

"You two enjoying the sea?", she asks.

"Very much, thank you," you answer, "we had cocktails and walked to the beach."

The lady looks pleased at how happy you seem and smiles at Joel.

"I’m glad to hear it! Well, you two enjoy your Daddy-daughter trip," she says, before answering the telephone that starts ringing just as you’re about to say good-night.

Joel’s brows are furrowed when you look at him, which makes you suppress a grin. The lady assuming he’s your father is clearly bothering him, and you get the feeling it might not entirely be about his age.

When you’ve made it up to your rooms, you turn to Joel to find him already watching you. He looks different here, in the harsh light of the corridor, dark shadows falling over his features, his form somehow looking broader.

"Breakfast at nine?", he asks you, voice quiet so as not to disturb any other guests in their rooms.

"Yeah," you say, and before you can change your mind, you kiss his cheek. His expression is unreadable, when you pull away.

"Goodnight," you say with a tired smile, before teasingly adding "Daddy."

Joel holds your eye contact, and doesn’t flush this time.

"Careful," he says gently, voice low and dark. You swallow.

Before you can forget, you shrug off his shirt, but Joel doesn’t move to take it from your outstretched hand. After a beat, his eyes flicker over your face.

"Keep it," he says curtly, "I like it on ya."

And then he’s gone, the door to his room shutting with a soft thud. You shake your head slightly, and press the soft linen fabric against your nose, inhaling the scent of his cologne and sweat. You ache just at the thought of it having touched his skin, and him now wanting to see you in it, but it would feel like a violation if you relieved that ache now, even if Joel wasn’t there, so you ignore the dull throbbing between your legs best as you can and go to bed with Joel’s shirt right next to your bed.

***

The next morning you feel a little nervous about breakfast – something shifted between you and Joel after your good-bye in the hallway. He seemed so sure of himself when he told you he liked you in his shirt, so unwavering, and you’re a nervous wreck just thinking about saying good morning to him.

Instead of putting on the white sundress you wore yesterday, you slip into a bikini, a pair of comfortable shorts, and Joel’s linen shirt, half unbuttoned so that your necklace peeks out. This time you leave the sleeves un-rolled, liking how big it feels on you, a constant reminder of Joel’s size.

You wash your face and brush your teeth, but don’t shower since you’re going to have to do that in the evening anyway. Although you’re mostly excited to see Joel again, you also can’t wait to have your morning coffee and something to eat – you hope the breakfast buffet will be as good as dinner was.

You wait for Joel in the hallway, but when he doesn’t come out of his room, you knock on his door.

"One second," his voice comes from inside, and you wait leaning against the wall just like he did the day before. When he opens the door, you can’t suppress a smile – his hair is charmingly tousled from his sleep, he clearly didn’t know what to do with it without taking a shower first.

"Nice hair," you say, the corner of your mouth twitching. Joel doesn’t answer, with his brows slightly furrowed he keeps staring at you. Anxiety floods your veins, and you wonder if it was the best idea to dress the way you did, if Joel might think of it as strange or creepy or pathetic.

"You’re wearing my shirt," he says, voice quiet and still rough from sleep. It’s not a question, just a statement, no judgement behind it. You swallow, watching his brown eyes trail over your arms, torso, your shorts.

"Yeah," you answer timidly, fighting the urge to cross your arms. "You said you liked it on me."

Joel’s eyes snap up to yours, and with all the courage you can muster up, you hold his gaze for several long seconds.

"I did."

Again, just a statement. One that doesn’t require an answer, but you feel like shrinking under Joel’s gaze, so you offer him an out out of the situation.

"I’ll take it off, if you want me to," you mutter, and quickly add "I’ll put on something else."

Joel watches you quietly, and finally runs a hand through his messy hair.

"No need, kid," he says with a defeated sounding exhale. "’M glad ya like it."

***

Breakfast is a welcome distraction from whatever happened in the hallway – you drink too much coffee, and try all of the delicious food offered: bacon and eggs, colorful fruit you have never seen before, yoghurt and pancakes. Joel sticks to coffee and toast, though he does steal one of the peaces of fruit from your plate.

"I’ll get one more cup," you say when you have drained the last of your coffee, and Joel chuckles.

"Might as well do a line," he says and you snort, but stay seated – he’s right, you should watch your caffeine intake. He watches you, and after a second raises an eyebrow.

"I didn’t mean anything by it. You drink as much coffee as you want."

His voice is apologetic and soft.

"No, I’ll do as you say," you answer, "or I’ll die of heart failure."

Something flashes over his face at those words, but you can’t pinpoint it. Still, your stomach flutters, when Joel doesn’t break the eye-contact.

After breakfast the two of you get your towels and the rest of your beach-belongings from your rooms, and Joel changes into his trunks again. You walk past reception quietly, the lady from the day before isn’t there, and Joel’s arm brushes against yours casually. Suddenly you wish you weren’t wearing his shirt, just to feel his skin against yours. It’s a little pathetic.

Joel gets you two deckchairs – the beach is still relatively empty – and you put on sunscreen. When you’re done with your limbs and stomach, you offer Joel the bottle.

"Do my back, please?"

"Sure," he mutters, taking the bottle from you, and gently stroking your hair out of the way. He’s quiet, holding you steady by the shoulder when you instinctively squirm away from the initial cold of the liquid on your skin, his hands calloused but gentle. From time to time, his fingers slip under the shoulder straps of your bikini, and you feel heat pool between your legs when he starts covering your lower back in sunscreen. His hand is dangerously close to the waistband of your swimsuit.

"All done," he says, closing the bottle. You raise an eyebrow.

"Don’t need sunscreen," he explains, "I don’t burn easy."

"You’ll get skin cancer," you argue. "Everybody needs sunscreen."

He huffs, but hands you the bottle and turns around to sit down on the deckchair. You watch his beautiful back, the way the skin ripples over his muscles, how broad and solid it seems. You squirt some of the sunscreen onto your hand and apply it to Joel’s shoulders, rubbing gently. He relaxes under your touch, the tension leaving his muscles, and you move your hands more deliberately, focusing on his shoulders, until Joel’s head falls forward slightly, giving into the sensation.

"Good?", you ask, a little shy.

Joel hums, and you wonder if his eyes are closed, if he’s enjoying your touch so much he can’t form a full sentence. You dig the heels of your palms into his muscles, the sunscreen making the slide easy. His skin his littered in freckles and birthmarks, marked by years of working under the sun.

"You always apply sunscreen like that?", Joel asks suddenly, and you flush.

"Most people aren’t this tense," you quip back, fingers gliding over Joel’s neck. "Actually, nobody’s ever been this tense, I think."

He shakes his head slightly, but lets you carry on, working your way down his back, the tan line of his trunks visible and oh so tempting. You imagine pulling them down and try to refrain from clenching your thighs together.

When you’re done, Joel’s muscles feel a little looser, more relaxed, and he turns around to look at you.

"Thanks," he says quietly, and you nod. Now that he can see you, look you directly in the eye, it feels almost absurdly bold to have touched him like that. Still, things have started to unravel a little. Lines have blurred.

Although you don’t know where you get the courage from, you hold his gaze, put one hand on his shoulder, and squeeze.

"Any time, Joel," you answer, and watch him swallow. Then, his own hand comes up to yours, and you half think he’s going to remove yours, but he just loosely wraps his fingers around your wrist, eyes not leaving yours.

"That’s a dangerous game you’re playin’, kid," he says quietly, but doesn’t let go of you. You hope he never does.

"Do you…want me to stop?", you ask him, because you will if this is making him uncomfortable, if you read him wrong. He’s silent for a second.

"No," he says so quietly it’s almost inaudible. His thumb starts moving over your wrist, right over the pulse point, and it makes you weak in the knees. You didn’t know a touch as small as that one could be so erotic, but with Joel it seems, everything is. You fight to not let a whimper escape your mouth, and close your eyes for just a second.

"God," Joel mutters, more to himself than to you, "look at you."

Your eyes snap open when you feel him move, hand still locked around your wrist securely, and suddenly he’s towering over you. You gaze up at him, his eyes bright under the blazing sun, his hair still tousled, his beard patchy and flecked with grey. He’s all man, in a way you didn’t know you found desirable before him, but there is undeniable proof of your want leaking into your swimsuit, sticky and hot between your thighs.

He watches you, intense eyes moving over your face, your eyes, your mouth, your hands, your body in your nicest swimsuit, your throat as you swallow. His other hand comes up to stroke the hair away from your neck, and goosebumps erupt on your skin. Joel almost chuckles, but it’s more the ghost of a breath. You flush.

"It’s fucking stupid to go through with this," Joel says seriously, like he wants to inform you of it – as if you don’t know.

"Yes," you breathe, because he’s completely right.

"Your Dad would kill me, and rightly so," he adds.

"Oh, fuck my Dad," you answer, trying to reach out to touch Joel, but your wrist is still tightly locked in his grasp. You tug a little, but he doesn’t budge.

"You doin’ this to get back at him?"

You detect something in his voice you don’t like – uncertainty.

"No, Joel," you breathe, "God, no. Have you looked into a mirror recently?"

That makes him smile, and you wonder if he gets compliments a lot, but by the way his cheeks gain color, you don’t think he does. Stupid, stupid world, stupid people who came before you. He should be told every second of the day.

"It’s still stupid,“ he says, but his eyes are more intense than before now. You’re on holiday, away from all judgement. You can do whatever you want to do to each other.

"Thought I was the smart one in my family," you tease, reminding him of his words on the plane. You want him to lean down and finally kiss you, or throw you down on the deckchair and fuck you right there, your face pressed into his linen shirt. His thumb keeps moving over your wrist, relentlessly building tension.

"Take me to your room," you whisper, eyes wide, and anticipation pooling deep in your belly. Joel curses.

"You have any idea of the things I wanna do to you?"

His voice is low, dangerous, and you’d be at least a little afraid if this one anyone else. But it’s Joel, who lets you hate your degree without judgement, drinks cocktails he doesn’t like just so you can enjoy yourself, and through his permission allows you to stop studying, lets you enjoy this trip.

"Do them," you breathe, "I’ll let you do anything."

"Jesus fucking Christ, kid," he answers, and finally lets go of your wrist, one hand coming to rest on your waist, tugging you towards him, the other gently cradling your face. His breath ghosts over your mouth, and then he brushes your lips with his in a needy, slow kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth and you open up for him willingly. He tugs your hips against him, making you whimper and feel his bulge dig into your stomach.

The only thing keeping you from pulling him out of his swimming trunks right then is the fact that there are people around, and you’re pushing it already with the way his hands grasp at your skin and his tongue licks in your mouth. Any further and you could be arrested for public indecency.

"Please," you ask him between kisses, "Please, Joel, just take me to your room."

His teeth dig into your lower lip, and you fight a moan.

"Ask me again," he says, voice a little wrecked, and the need you feel for him deep in your stomach burns white hot. He wants you to beg.

"Please," you say, like he isn’t stripping you of your dignity instead of your clothes, but you can’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed, not when Joel groans at the sound.

"Alright, kid. I’ve got you.“

#my burning sun will someday rise #mine #my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us part 1 #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedrohub #pedro hub #pedro pascal characters #game joel miller #hbo joel #hbo tlou

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peachhcs · 1 day ago

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through the years with them

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

quinn, jack, and grace have always been in charge of luke, samy, and will growing up. whether it's in toronto, michigan, or massachusetts, it was always 3v3.

wc: 3.9k

happy new year everyone!!! wishing you all a beautiful and safe and happy 2025🩷 after writing flashbacks in my christmas fic, i was inspired to write more memories between the hughes-smith siblings growing up all together

au masterlist

WINTER OF 2011

it was the first real snowfall of winter which meant all the kids raced outside to play in the fluffy powder. ellen and colleen worked to bundle up all of their kids to make sure no one got frost bite while also lecturing at quinn to make sure everyone kept their hats and gloves on even if they didn't want to.

"yeah, mom. i know," the twelve year old rolled his eyes watching his little sister struggle to zip her coat before he went over to help her with it. samy grinned. "thanks q," she mumbled and grabbed her hat from ellen.

"you guys are all in charge of the little ones, okay? make sure they behave and if you go on the ice, be careful," it was all stuff the three older ones heard before.

"yeah, mom, don't worry. we'll keep the monsters in line," jack grinned and ruffled up luke's curly blonde hair. the younger boy swatted his hand away. "don't do that."

once everyone was bundled up, the kids were set loose into the hughes' backyard. toronto winters were a lot colder compared to boston winters, so will and grace weren't used to such frigid temperatures when they got outside. luke made a break for the rink as usual, so jack followed after him. will followed after them which meant quinn had to follow them too. grace helped samy through the piles of snow, always wanting to follow her brothers and do what they were doing.

"i wanna shoot," luke said, grabbing his stick from the fence. he just got on with his boots because he slid just as easily as he would on skates.

"let's do a game," jack suggested since that was something all six of them could do.

"no, last time we did it with all six of us someone got hurt," quinn immediately shot down the idea being the older brother he was. he was not about to take the fall again if someone got hurt because last time, moose nearly broke his arm and quinn got blamed for it when it wasn't even his fault, moose was just clumsy.

"come on, q. we'll be careful. we can't even go that hard with six year olds with us," jack looked over at will and samy.

"i heard that!" her little voice said and the middle hughes just shrugged.

"fine but if someone gets hurt, it's not my fault," the oldest hughes finally gave in and grabbed his stick. they split the teams so each of them had a fair advantage which meant quinn and jack were on opposite teams. quinn took his little sister and grace, who actually wasn't half bad considering she didn't even play. jack had luke and will, confident in their abilities to take down quinn's team filled with all girls.

the kids slid across the ice in their boots, occasionally falling down because they couldn't stop as easily, but it was still fun nonetheless. there wasn't a time those kids weren't out on the homemade rink their parents built for them. it was definitely a huge attraction whenever friends came over.

jack tried crowding quinn. the older boy passed over to grace who successfully skated passed luke and put it into the back of the net. she lifted her arms in victory.

"nice! we're up 2," quinn smiled, the two high fiveing as he slid by. jack let out a frustrated groan.

they set back up and went again. luke started getting a bit more aggressive as he tried pushing past the girls this time. he was very determined to score at least one goal.

"moose, eyes up or you're gonna hit someone not looking," quinn called as he watched his little brother run across the ice.

"my eyes are up!" luke yelled back, but as soon as he said that, he lifted his stick to take a swing at the puck that samy had. unfortunately, luke's eyes were not up and his stick flew right into samy's chin.

the girl fell over and tears immediately pooled in her eyes. the others' eyes widened as grace and quinn raced over to her. "oh shoot. shoot. she's bleeding," quinn panicked and cupped her chin where the blood dripped onto his glove.

"we need to get her back inside," grace said and the two helped the girl up.

jack, luke, and will stood there in shock as the blood dripped everywhere from the rink to the snow as grace and quinn rushed her back inside.

"come on," jack mumbled and pulled the other two back up to the house.

"am i gonna get in trouble?" now luke was crying because he didn't wanna get in trouble.

"mom!" quinn yelled as soon as they were inside. the urgency in his voice made ellen come running from the kitchen where her eyes widened seeing so much blood on both of her kids.

"what happened? is she okay?" samy was still crying as ellen grabbed her from quinn's arms.

"moose accidentally hit her with his stick," quinn explained as jack came in with luke and will.

"she's bleeding so much. jim! jim, get in here," ellen called and then colleen, bill, and jim were rushing into the foyer where the kids watched the scene unfold.

"i'll get her a cloth," colleen said.

"we should take her to the emergency room," jim said as he inspected the deep incision.

ellen and jim rushed around to get their coats on while quinn finally went to a still crying luke. "hey, it was an accident. it's not your fault," he tried shushing the younger boy.

"i didn't mean to hit her. is she gonna die?" the second youngest cried.

"no, she's not gonna die, moosey, don't worry. she'll be okay. mom and dad are gonna take her to the emergency room where they'll make her better," quinn reassured.

"we'll be back, kids, colleen and bill are gonna watch you," ellen said to her kids before her and jim hurried out the door with samy.

"it's okay, luke. it's not your fault, okay?" colleen came to comfort the boy too. she swept him into a hug where he cried into her shoulder.

"why don't you guys find something to do in the meantime? i'll let you know what your mom says," she said and the others nodded. quinn led them to the basement where jack immediately turned on the ps3.

"she'll probably just need some stitches and she'll be fine. it's like when i needed stitches in my finger after accidentally cutting it with a knife," jack shrugged, always the calm one in these situations.

"you were really lucky you didn't lose a finger," quinn mumbled.

"it didn't look that deep, so i'm sure she'll be fine. she'll be in high spirits once she gets back," grace said.

"i knew we shouldn't have played," the oldest hughes was still mad because he literally said something like this would happen and they still played anyway.

"are you blaming me now? it's not my fault. i wasn't even going that hard. luke was the one not looking," jack quickly shot back hearing his brother's words.

"you're the one who suggested playing. i didn't even wanna play!" now the brothers were arguing and grace quickly mediated.

"it's no one's fault, okay? no one's mad and no one's blaming anyone. just a freak accident," she said firmly which made the older boys finally ease off one another.

almost two hours passed when ellen and jim returned. they hurried upstairs to greet them where samy now had a large bandaid across her chin, but at least she was smiling.

"tell them how brave you were," ellen smiled as she helped get her coat off.

"i was super brave and i got candy after!" samy exclaimed and proudly showed her brothers the bandage. luke was hiding behind colleen's leg still feeling guilty about the whole thing.

"hey, now you'll have a wicked scar and you can tell people you fought a bear or something!" jack exclaimed making the others laugh. samy saw luke hiding and went over to him where he nervously stepped back afraid he would hurt her again.

"i'm okay, moosey, see?" the brunette showed her brother her bandaid proving she was okay. luke stared at her for a moment before pulling her into a hug.

"i'm sorry i hit you. i'm glad you're okay," he said.

"it's okay. i forgive you," samy said and the parents smiled watching the two make up.

"now remind me that you guys aren't allowed on the rink unless we're out there with you," ellen squeezed quinn's chin who flushed.

"right," the older boy mumbled.

SUMMER OF 2014

"oh, why are you so dressed up?" jack teased as quinn raced by everyone sitting down in the basement trying to stay somewhat cool. the past week had been boiling and after doing all of the outdoor activities that could keep them cool, everyone was now inside in the air conditioning attempting to stop sweating so much. jack watched his older brother run by looking rather nice for the late afternoon.

"none of your business," quinn mumbled as he stopped in the mirror to look himself over, fixing his hair.

"he's got a date!" samy exclaimed after eavesdropping on her brother's phone call the other day. everyone's eyes widened while quinn quickly glared at his sister.

"a date? no way," jack mumbled, sitting up more so he could watch his brother.

"is it with that girl you were flirting with at the bonfire the other night?" grace chirped making the middle hughes quickly snicker. now that they were getting older, the parents were finally letting the older three go out more with the neighborhood kids. there had been a bonfire a few days ago someone was hosting that quinn, jack, and grace attended.

"oooh, i knew you had eyes on her!" jack exclaimed making quinn's blush even worse.

"do you guys ever mind your business? especially you, samy. i thought we talked about eavesdropping on other people," the older boy mumbled in annoyance. the youngest hughes had been having a really big problem with eavesdropping lately and she was entering her tattletale phase that quinn dreaded because he already dealt with it three times.

"you were talking loud. what was i supposed to do? not listen?" samy shrugged.

"yes, not listen," quinn said.

"it's gonna be fine, don't worry. she seemed to really like you," grace hummed as she got up to help the dark-haired boy with the last of his buttons in his haste to fix his hair.

"you think so?" quinn wondered feeling some self doubt in himself. he'd never really been on a date before, but he did know that he had to pay for her things and hold the doors open for her and possibly hold her hand if that's what she wanted.

"i know so because she even asked me about you when you guys were done talking. i said you're a really cool hockey player and one of the best big "brothers" i have," grace's words brought a smile to quinn's lips hearing her say that. a bit of relief flooded his system.

"thanks, gg," the boy smiled down at her as she finished his last buttons.

"looking spiffy. hope you guys kiss tonight!" jack exclaimed making the other littles chuckle.

"shut up," quinn rolled his eyes and looked at himself one more time.

"when are we gonna be old enough to go to bonfires?" luke complained, his face in his hands.

"when you're twelve," jack said with a snicker, always boasting about his privileges that he had that his younger siblings didn't.

"so next year!" luke exclaimed with excitement.

"aw wait, that means you're leaving me with will," samy made the realization and the younger blonde made a face.

"hey, rude," will rolled his eyes.

"maybe that means you guys will finally get along if you spend some time together," jack mumbled and slid back into the couch to continue gaming.

"whatever," samy mumbled and rolled her eyes. she definitely took after jack's sassy attitude.

they all wished quinn goodbye as he rushed out of the house a few minutes later. while we was gone, grace and samy decided to bake cookies while the boys stayed downstairs playing on the wii. the oldest hughes didn't return until a few hours later where a very lovestruck expression sat on his features.

"so? how'd it go?" jack exclaimed when caught sight of his brother.

"did you kiss??" luke added.

"oh they definitely kissed," jack commented when he saw quinn's rosy cheeks.

"it was great. she was really nice and we're gonna try and hang out again before summer ends," the older boy explained briefly.

"ooh, someone's in loveeee. quinn and rachel sitting in a tree. k-i-s-s-i-n-g. first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage," the youngest hughes brother teased making quinn smack his arm.

"shut up," the boy grumbled. the others just laughed as quinn ran upstairs to hide for the rest of the night and text rachel. being a teenager first meant all of the younger ones had a million and one questions for quinn when it came to dating and just being a teenager in general.

SUMMER OF 2020

samy came down the stairs, her phone in hand and ready to walk out the door when quinn, who caught a glimpse of her outfit, immediately stopped her.

"where are you going?" he crossed his arms and the girl rolled her eyes.

"i'm going out," she shrugged and the vagueness nearly pissed the older boy off. the others caught wind of the conversation and poked their heads out from the kitchen.

"out where dressed like that?" quinn asked again. her shirt was cut low and the skirt she had on was way too short for quinn's liking because he was not letting his baby sister leave the house like that.

ellen, jim, colleen, and bill were gone for the weekend up north for a wedding which meant quinn, jack, and grace reverted back to their roles of being in charge with them gone. quinn was the first one to crack down and the younger brunette huffed as she eyed grace watching the exchange happen a few feet away.

"just out. will and i were invited to this bonfire. i don't know what the big deal is," samy began and tried looking at grace to back her up on this one and get quinn off her back.

"will's not the one dressed like he's gonna get laid," quinn shot back.

"okay, that was a bit much, q," grace finally cut in.

"what? look at her outfit! she's not fooling anyone," the older boy stepped aside so everyone else could take in the youngest girl's outfit choice for the night.

"this is literally what you were doing when you were my age, i don't understand why you're being a brat right now," samy argued back and quinn's gaze snapped back to her.

"you're the one being a brat, not me."

"okay, okay. where are you guys even going? who's bonfire is it?" the older blonde stepped in to mediate like always. she glanced between her brother and samy.

"it's literally two doors down from here. it's a five minute walk," samy said and looked at will who nodded.

"is that tommy's house? me and him used to be close," jack chirped up.

"yeah, his sister is hosting a small thing for people in the area. it's not even gonna be big. there won't be alcohol," samy added and quinn scoffed.

"i've heard that one before because i've used that one before," he mumbled.

"you're not even my dad why are you acting like this? i thought siblings were supposed to like..cover for one another and shit. did turning 21 get to your head?" samy turning fifteen had been rough on everyone. it wasn't that quinn didn't trust her, it was that he didn't trust other people because he lived through all of this already. he just wanted to look out for her so she didn't make the same mistakes he did when he was fifteen.

"someone's moody.." luke muttered under his breath making jack laugh and grace hit his arm to shut up before it set either of them off anymore.

"what if luke goes? will that make it any better?" samy pointed at her brother standing off the the side. the second youngest immediately shook his head.

"no, no don't bring me into this. i don't really wanna hang out with fifteen year olds," luke mumbled.

"ouch," will joked.

"you know what i mean," the curly brunette said.

"what will make it better is if you change your outfit. i don't approve of this," quinn eyed his sister's shirt and skirt again, shaking his head.

"why? this is literally what grace was wearing when she was my age three years ago. it's not even that bad. it's hot out," the older siblings exchanged a glance while they figured out what to do.

"what if we compromise? you're wearing a zip up hoodie with that and you and will are not to leave without one another, got it? you have to come back here together, no excuses," grace finally said and looked at quinn for approval. the older boy rolled his eyes but nodded.

"ugh, fine. whatever," she ran back upstairs to find a hoodie. quinn breathed out a sigh while jack and luke just snickered.

"god, i hate it here," the older boy mumbled and grace reached over to rub his arm with a small chuckle.

"teenagers, am i right?" jack snickered, reaching over to nuzzle his brother's head.

"don't talk to me about teenagers right now," quinn said and they heard samy's footsteps on the stairs again. she came back with a black zip up hoodie over her shirt.

"better?" she asked and quinn finally nodded.

"better. thank you. be safe, be good. don't do something stupid. look after each other. call if you need anything," quinn said to the two as he sent them on their way.

"yeah, we know. bye q, bye guys," samy rushed will out the door before they were stopped again and the oldest hughes blew out a sigh. he glanced at the others who laughed.

"do i remember being 15," jack shook his head slightly and wandered back into the living room.

"what a horrible age," quinn mumbled.

FALL OF 2022

thanksgiving was in michigan this year. the smiths flew over a few days before and while samy was out on a date, the other kids were at home catching up. it was still a bit foreign to have the youngest hughes out on a date the night before thanksgiving, but ellen cut the chirping from her brothers and let her go. while they talked about samy's date and mumbled things about how grown up she was now, will stayed silent.

the idea of samy out on a date bugged him way more than he wanted it do and the feelings he'd been having the past month and a half were confusing him still because on one hand, samy was still his best friend and the girl he grew up with. on the other hand, she was starting to become all the blonde could think about.

luke noticed his friend's quietness first. anytime they talked about kevin will would go silent. they didn't know about the jealousy brewing between the two boys over the youngest hughes nor did will really wanna tell them.

"you're being weird and quiet," luke being luke though always pointed it out. quinn, jack, and grace's gazes snapped over to the younger blonde.

"you okay?" grace asked her brother and he shook her pestering hand away. "yeah, i'm fine," he mumbled.

"i've heard that one before," jack teased a bit.

"what's up? do you not like kevin or something?" luke poked some more and the blonde's face burned.

"you could say that," he mumbled embarrassingly and that made the other siblings raise their eyebrow.

"oh?" they all quickly became curious in what will was thinking, but the blonde didn't wanna explain because explaining meant admitting the possible feelings he felt for samy and he was not about to do that in front of her brothers.

"i just don't really like him. simple," will shrugged and hoped that would get them off his back. he walked away before they could interrogate more too. that made the four exchange a glance at the younger boy's strange behavior.

"what was that about?" jack mumbled when will was out of earshot.

"he's been weird lately. i don't know why," luke shrugged but he didn't know anything more and also never poked to ask more.

quinn, being the observer he was of all of his siblings, had a feeling he knew exactly what was on will's mind. he's seen it before because he's felt it before. being 17 and having obvious feelings for someone was pretty easy to see, at least that's what quinn thought.

later, he found will on the back deck on his phone. quinn approached carefully, "hey," the older boy said. will looked up at him, curious, "hey?"

"your little..whatever earlier..i know how you feel," the older boy sat down beside will for a moment and the blonde's cheeks flushed. he avoided his gaze.

"you do?"

"come on, smitty. i was 17 once too," a small laugh left quinn's lips.

"i don't even know if i like her. it's been..weird these past few weeks," the blonde finally admitted like he was embarrassed even though there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

"you know if anyone was gonna catch feelings between all of us i had a feeling it would be you and samy," the dark-haired boy laughed to himself.

"what does that mean?" will pinched his eyebrows together.

"i don't know. you guys have grown pretty close over the past few years. i remember when you hated one another and then suddenly all you did was hang out together. it's not hard to tell, will," the older hughes poked will's arm and he flushed again.

"oh."

"i also don't like kevin. i'd definitely prefer you if anything did happen.." quinn said with a smirk.

"uh..well i don't even know if samy likes me. she probably doesn't so i wouldn't get your hopes up about that," the blonde said.

"i'm just saying. you never know. things happen. things change. either way, i get how you're feeling and if you ever need to talk about it, i'm here," quinn didn't wanna poke will too much about it so he left it at that as he got back up.

the blonde was left to think about the older boy's words until samy got back home an hour later. he joined her brothers in asking her out the date went to which she said it went fine.

"you guys are annoying," the brunette mumbled as she snacked on some chips.

"we're just nosy, actually," jack snickered to himself.

"yeah, really nosy. i'm gonna change," samy rolled her eyes and disappeared upstairs. will met quinn's glance who winked and the younger boy flushed.

if anything, all the older siblings noticed will's longing looks and eventuall samy's as the year went on, they just chose not to say anything because after years of thinking the other had cooties, it was hard to believe there might've been feelings there.

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gigisaquarium · 2 days ago

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I have a request!! Just general headcanon of zoro and reader in an established relationship. How they met, how they got together, how they navigate being together and being cremates, etc!

𐙚 Hello, my love!! Thank you for your request!! I have so many thoughts about him, so this is perfect timing!

𐙚 Summary: Silly head canons with a silly man

𐙚 Warnings: Small nsfw towards the end

• For a shier reader, I would assume that you and Zoro met when Luffy recruited you to help pick up around the ship

• I feel like he wouldn’t approach you until you approached him, which, obviously, would take a heap of confidence

• For a more bubbly reader, I have this whole story in my head about the straw hats docking at this island and Zoro finds himself in this old restraint with shit lighting

• It’s nearly empty, but he sits down at the bar, and you’re across the row, and you just start talking to him. Surprisingly enough, he takes a liking to you, and you end up talking all night because you have this dream of getting off this island

• Anyways, for a shy reader and a bubbly reader from here on out, you end up getting close on the ship

• Zoro likes your wit and appreciates that you know when to leave him alone

• When he feels like the two sides of a romantic relationship and a platonic relationship are beginning to bleed together, he takes a step back, and can be rather standoffish

• He didn’t know what he wanted, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to commit to anything if you were feeling the same way he had been

• He couldn’t sleep for nights on end. He was up thinking about you, hating himself for avoiding you, hating you for making his feelings more complicated than they should be, and hating Luffy because he bit his leg earlier that day

• Finally, when he can hardly take it anymore, he writes all of his feelings down in a little notebook and wraps it in saran wrap he stole from Sanji

• He throws it into the ocean the next day

• Luffy stretches to grab it “Zoro you dropped your notebook :3”

• Zoro wants to punch Luffy

• But he takes it as a sign he was meant to keep those feelings and express them

• He apologizes for ignoring you and gives you the notebook to read, just not in front of him

• Technically, it was never said out loud, but you began your romantic relationship when, later that night, you slipped a little piece of paper under his door with your feelings on it

• It was definitely difficult being in a relationship while being crew mates, for Zoro, at least.

• How he explained it was that he never got a chance to miss you

• Then, in natural Zoro fashion, he got lost, being separated from you

• That’s when he figured out he didn’t want to miss you. He wanted you to always be there, because this was an awful feeling

• When he somehow makes it back to you again, he’s slightly more affectionate than he typically is, taking every chance he got to gently kiss the top of your head or wrap his arms around you

• That’s definitely where everything begins to smoothen out for you two

• Everything comes more naturally, and often times, the two of you are laughing together, or you’re trying to wrestle him while he stands still, unmoving and uninterested

• Of course, both of you have your downtime where you can enjoy some alone time

• But if you miss him during your alone time, tell him, because he misses you too

• He likes playing with your hair when someone is rambling to him. It helps him not pay attention to whatever they’re going on about

• “And that’s why we should stop here, I… are you listening?” “What”

• I think you guys wait a long long time before you get intimate

• Tbh I think Zoro is a virgin when he meets you, idc

• Something about his stupid face screams virgin (In a loving, appreciative way)

• So one night, when everyone is off the ship, I think he plans something romantic enough

• It’s nothing too much, just a good place to start, and he definitely makes sure you know he loves you

• Even if he doesn’t say it a lot, he wants you to know

• “Zoro wants me to tell you he has a crush on you” “No, that’s not what I said”

i think im funny (im not)

#one piece #strawhats x reader #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro headcanons #monkey d lufy #nami #nico robin #usopp #sanji #x reader

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literallyangelshaw · 2 days ago

Text

This took me almost a month and I actually fucking hate it but for those who wanted the Treasure turning fic, it's your lucky day!!

Tag List: @darlin-collins @brainrotcharacters @aimedis @therealbr1gh7ey3s @spuffyfit and I think that's all

Warnings: Physical Violence, Car Accident, Unconsensual Turning, Mentions of previous arguments, suicidal implications, depictions of dissociation, probably some mischaracterization, and I will admit my writing here feels a little lazy so I apologise, also I didn't proof read because I'm tired.

Happy New Years/New Years Eve!! Depending on Timezone

"I'm not the only coward in this room"

Those words burned into their tender heart as they reminisce just moments before now. Their mind flooding with every blink of their eyes, their fists clenching as they glared at the laundry pile Porter had earlier ridiculed. They glared for what felt like hours until they felt a moisture slide down their cheeks. They couldn't possibly be crying. Their ears rang as the tears fell, and their body moved on it's own. Shoving through the door and wandering aimlessly and thoughtlessly.

*What am I doing?* Their thoughts finally coherent, the dissociation finally worn off. The feelings finally broken through their barricade. They continue to wander, to make any desperate attempt at escaping their thoughts. Their *feelings*.

Hours had passed, though it felt like weeks to them. Aimlessly trudging through damp, dark forest terrains, recklessly thudding into trees, bruising their arms and sides.

Their clothing now dirtied, their eyes sunken and red from the endless streams of tears, their nose stuffed with the agony of the earlier argument, their legs weak from the abuse they had given themselves to escape the abuse of their mind.

"If you think for one second that what we have here isn’t both of us running away, then you need to turn that appraising gaze inward for a bit."

There they were again. Those words burning and bruising their being as they question, everything.

Were they just an escape to him?

Did he ever truly care for anything *but* his escape?

Why them?

Their vision blurred as the tears stung their cheeks again, now stumbling out of the forst and onto a sidewalk.

"Look at that person over there, they look a mess!" A drunken voice cackled from across the street, followed by a group of friends laughing. Their gaze fixed onto the ground as their agony and despair turned to anger and a rage that would soon be unbridled.

Before common sense could stop them, they lunged off of the sidewalk and into the traffic, avoiding doom narrowly as they approached the group.

Seconds later, the voice's face was full of Treasure's fist. They pounded and pounded, wailing as all the emotion they carried finally poured itself out.

The moments blurred together, their arms were taken by another member of the group, one that unfortunately, looked a lot like Porter. The hair, the build, they screamed Porter.

"LET ME GO" They scolded in protest, flailing their limbs before the leader finally threw their punch. The Porter-lookalike, let them go just before the hit was landed. The impact threw their limp, weak body into oncoming traffic a car hitting them mid-fall.

Blood. It was all they could feel, all they could hear, all they could see. Barely conscious, in the middle of the street Treasure attempts to sit up, failing miserably.

Just as miserably as they failed at helping the one they loved.

Their body numbed as their thoughts continued to belittle them before unconsciousness finally overtook them. Their blood flooding the street as the driver leapt out of the car with urgency, Lovely. They rushed to Treasure's side, panic overflowing their senses.

Treasure would never be able to come back from this. Their bones snapped like twigs scattered across a park, bleeding out to what could've been death.

Lovely frantically rested their fingers on Treasure's neck, checking their pulse. Listening for their breathing. It was shallow, quiet, tortured and agonized.

***They aren't going to survive this.***

Lovely's head rushed as what little composure they could've kept cracked under the pressure. The adrenaline taking the reigns on their body, they bit their wrist before feeding their blood to the pitiful, withered, unconscious Treasure. Picking up Treasure's wrist and beginning to sip.

Blood for blood.

A new 'life' over a death that Treasure yearned for.

A death Lovely had almost granted them.

*Timeskip*

Ears ringing, heart pounding, body numbing like a corpse. Hushed voices came from behind the door as Treasure's exhaustingly heavy eyelids lifted themselves to reveal their unfamiliar surroundings. Their mind became frantic while their body was all too exhausted and broken to do anything but look around with anxious eyes. Taking in the exquisitely decorated room around them, it ever so slightly resembled the room Porter took them to, the night of their first dalliance.

Where am I?

Is this some sort of afterlife?

*Am I finally free?*

Questions arose within their mind as the doorknob turned, the long creak of the door opening ringing in Treasure's ears as Lovely entered. Their hands trembling with a guilt only a Maker would know.

"Are you alright?" Lovely chirped out, still shaken up themselves. They approached Treasure's bedside, resting their gaze on the pathetic creature.

"Wh..Who are you?" They sighed out, mind still rushing with questions their body wasn't ready to articulate.

"Lovely, Lovely Solaire. I'm so sorry I..." They trailed off, guilt dripping from their voice, their silvery crimson eyes avoiding Treasure's as they clasped their hands in a purely pathetic attempt of self soothing. "You.. were in an accident, and you weren't going to make it"

"Weren't?" Treasure's hoarse cracked voice interjected, "I'm not.." realization began set in. Making itself comfortable and torturing Treasure's mind almost immediately.

Death hadn't claimed them.

*Solaire*, this person was a member of Porter's house.

*Why can't I ever escape him?*

Their breath hitched as their mind began to rush again

*An accident?*

Their exhales became shakier as their lips began to tremble as they looked over at Lovely. Taking note of their eyes and paled skin, before looking down at their own hands.

Paled, dry, *dead*.

"What have you done?"

Lovely exhaled, trembling "I'm so sorry, I..I panicked and I lost control, it was the only thing I could think to do, and I know I shouldn't have, and I am eternally in apologetic debt to you, I'm so sorry" They sputtered, and stumbled over their words, sincerity dripping from their apologies as Treasure blankly stared down at their hands. Their senses blurring as their breaths became quicker, the thoughts became louder.

***This had to be a nightmare, right? They were going to wake up any second, in Porter's arms. Right?***

"You're lying. You have to be." Treasure muttered, their mind refusing to accept their new pathetically purposeless, eternal, reality.

"I'm so sorry...I'm telling the truth, this is all real and I'm so incredibly sorry"

The lump in Treasure's throat grew denser as realization had completed its task in making Treasure's mind its playground.

A strong tensioned silence filled the room, as Treasure began hearing what was once unhearable.

"..What does this mean for me?" A strange, unnatural, chilling calm had settled over them, still staring at their hands.

"I don't..I don't know. There's this house-"

"The Solaire house"

"Yes, the, Solaire house..they aren't, *ideal* but you'll need stability after something like this"

"Yeah. I get it."

Timeskip!!

Days passed like hours, the turning transition was rough, but Porter's absence was rougher. They'd never admit it after what he'd said but, they missed him more than any part of their humanity.

"Hey..you okay?"

Lovely's voice snapped Treasure out of their spiral, dragging back to their absolute shitshow of a reality. No matter how helpful their maker tried to be.

"You got everything?"

Treasure nodded, zipping up their last bag, full of their laundry.

"Whatever your equivalent conundrum would be, like..I don't know..should you actually do your laundry tonight or just push the pile farther over on the bed?"

***"Again?"***

Treasure hugged their arms into their chest, sitting on the floor of their old home looking around at its emptiness.

"Lovely"

"Yes?"

"Will I matter here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've spent my whole life mattering the least, being told that, my problems are mere and trivial. Will that change here?"

"I can't promise that you'll be treated the way you should be, not by everyone in the house."

"So no."

"You didn't let me finish"

"And you didn't let me die."

"I..Treasure I'm sorry I-"

"Forget it. Please. Let's just get this over with."

Treasure's pained snarky response punctuated the conversation as they stood, picking up their bags and carrying them outside. The moon gleaming down on their paled skin as they released the bags from their hands.

"What now?"

"William has sent assistance to help you take your stuff to your new-"

With a woosh Lovely was cut off by a fellow vampire arriving to the scene in a car. Without another word they loaded the car and off they went.

The short minutes dragged on in Treasure's mind as they made their way, before they knew it, they had arrived.

Stepping out of the car, they gazed upon what looked like a palace out of a fantasy book.

"Cmon, I've gotta introduce you to William..ugh."

Treasure arched their brow silently following behind Lovely, striding into the castle, a light clicking of their heels upon the velvety floor as they made their way atop the staircase. Lovely knocked, almost immediately warranting William's silky voice in response.

"Come in"

Lovely inhaled shakily, pressing the door open and stepping inside, Treasure trailing behind.

A tensioned silence flooded the room after the door shut.

"Treasure..?"

Porter stood, once facing William now looking at his jewel. Eyes widening at their altered appearance he studied them, "Treasure what happened-"

"Why so concerned Porter? Oh..i see, do I finally have more than laundry to worry about now? Am I extraordinary enough to care about you now?"

William cleared his throat, the room filled with an awkwardness only a poet has the words to describe.

"Lovely, I believe this..conversation is best had another day." He says with a rare gentleness, glancing between Porter and Treasure

"Right." Lovely nods, signaling Treasure to turn and walk back out. As Treasure lifted their leg to walk out, a swift hand snatched their wrist. Porter.

"Treasure, please I'm sorry-"

Treasure yanked their hand from him, turning on their heel as the door shut behind them, now in the hallway.

"You're not fucking sorry"

"Treasure please believe me there is nothing I regret more than the way I left you that night"

"Good."

"What..?"

"You heard me. You've got super hearing don't you? Fucking use it. You said you wanted us to get to know each other. You promised a vulnerability that you then cut me down and hurt me for wanting. I guess you were right, Porter...

I don't and never will unders6tand you."6

#karmic antics #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted fandom #redacted porter #redacted treasure #redacted lovely #redacted fanfic

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dietcokegirly12 · 2 days ago

Note

heyy can i ask getting caught by jouno while using toys cause u miss him or sum ^w^ ty (not sure if the previous req sent so just in doubt)

stay safe

"Without Me? "

word count: 1.6k

tags: masturbation, degrading, rough sex, mean!jouno, teasing, overstimulation, pussy slapping, mating press, slight mention of oral

a/n: omgomg this is soo ridiculously stupendously late, pls forgive me, but god do i love this req, jouno is one of my faves and he’s so underrated so any time i get reqs for him, js know im smiling and giggling like an idiot pleasee keep them coming so i have an excuse to write for him ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

art creds to pinterest (tell me if you know artists’ :)

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ ⋆˙⟡♡ ꒱┈• ｡ﾟ┈꒰ ⋆˙⟡♡ ꒱┈• ｡ﾟ┈꒰ ⋆˙⟡♡ ꒱

you swallow, staring at the taunting rubbery pink vibrator sitting on your bed, your mind going back and forth.

were you really about to do this?

you loved your boyfriend, and his cock almost just as much. he was so obscenely big that it made the fake dildo across from you look laughable. with the thought of his perfect pink cock reaching past his belly button, curved and beading with pearly pre-cum, it was almost impossible to imagine yourself getting off to that.

and yet. he wasn’t here.

and he hadn’t been for several months now, off on a mission for the hunting dogs, as his job required and took up most of his time, leaving you alone to tend to your own needs.

to his credit, every extra second he had, he would spend with you, but it was never enough.

and you had been feeling so pent-up lately, the needy tingling between your legs almost unbearable as you awaited your boyfriend’s uncertain return.

it could be days. it could be weeks. it could be months.

and you were so unbearably horny, you didn’t think you could last another second.

exhaling quickly, you reach out for it without a second thought, pressing the button that caused a small hum to emit, vibrating slightly and pressing it between your legs over your needy cunt before you can change your mind.

immediately, pleasure courses through you, and you let out a small, relieved gasp as all the pressure that had been building and building inside you is finally eased up.

you press it harder onto your pussy, beginning to move it in small circles and unconsciously bucking your hips against it as you lose yourself completely, moaning and jolting lightly, arousal already coating the rubbery thing in sticky webs.

“o-oohh fuck..” you curse softly, finger coming to turn up the setting higher, the gradual hum increasing into a louder buzz that causes your whole body to twitch and shudder.

your head drops back, mouth open to let out small pants as you begin to fit the tip of it into your sopping entrance, sliding it in slowly as you increase the speed even more, your pussy stretching around the bright pink dick obscenely as your thighs begin to quake.

you can already feel a growing tautness in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t help but marvel for a second at how fast the thing works, turning it up another notch.

by now, the loud buzzing is unmistakable with wet, slick sounds coming from you, making it quite obvious what it is exactly that you're doing, even as you try to stay quiet, chest heaving up and down sporadically.

and then, as you open your legs wider, you hit that one spot, the one that jouno never ceases to hit, the one that makes you cum only after a few thrusts without fail every single time.

and oh, you're so close, you can feel it, practically taste it, your back arching up as the gummy tip of the dildo presses insistently deeper, vibrations making your eyes go blurry, tears pricking at your vision as it drives you to the brink of overstimulation from all of the added sensations combined together.

wanting to prolong your pleasure, and draw out your orgasm just a bit longer however, you hover your finger to turn down the setting, your now sweat-sheened body writhing and gasping softly, shaky as you try to stop the inevitable.

"darl'? where are you baby, i'm finally-"

jouno.

in a panic, you frantically fumble with the vibrator, your fingers shaky and sweaty. in your alarm, your finger slips upward, instantly causing it to go up to the highest setting.

bzzzzzt!

you let out a scream of pleasure as the vibrations become so strong you can't breathe, can't move, can't think, your hips wildly grinding up further, your mind going blank as your vision turns white.

and then you're cumming, thighs splaying wider to display the absolutely lewd sight in between, pussy squeezing around the fake cock as rivulets of your slick course out, absolutely drenching the thing, your helpless whines the only sound you can muster up as your head tosses and turns.

you manage to pull the still thrumming vibrator away, strings of your arousal connecting it to you still as your hand falls with a thump, completely limp and boneless, trying to muster up the energy to move or say something, anything.

in your daze, you feel the bed creak and dip underneath someone's weight, and then a hand finds its way to your chin, tilting it toward himself.

you open your eyes blearily to be met with a still fully-uniformed jouno, expressionless and nose twitching with distaste at the obvious smell of sex that hung in the air.

"hm, what's this? pleasuring yourself while i'm away..?"

your chest heaves up and down as you scramble for an answer. "w-well i... you were gone s'long an'.. i just wanted.."

he tsks softly, hand coming down to swipe over the mess you just made, gathering your essence on his still-gloved fingers, causing a small gasp to leave you. "what a naughty, naughty girl."

you bristle slightly at this, becoming defensive. "hey s'not fair! y-you're never here.."

his head turns, lips twitching up into what can only be described as a sadistic smile, his fingers probing deeper. "aw, missed my cock so much, she took matters into her own hands, huh?"

you whine as he shoves a finger deeper into your awaiting cunt, curling them up slightly to make your breathing hitch and stutter.

"well, guess what, m'here now, so you're gonna get this cock you were so desperate for, yeah? and you're gonna take it alllll.."

you swallow as he shifts, belt buckle clinking as he expertly pulls down his pants enough to expose his familiar, leaking pale length, slapping against his tummy to stand proud past his belly button.

he leans back, an arrogant smirk on his face, as his hands wrap around the undersides of your thighs, pulling you forward until your still-sensitive center meets his pelvis, that ever-present sneer on his face.

"open those legs f'me, doll." he says, taking his cock into hand to pump leisurely, reddish-tipped hair falling into his face as his mouth twitches ever so slightly at the feel of him stroking himself.

you hesitate, lip pulled between your teeth as you watch him. "b-but m'still sensitive.."

he only chuckles lowly, thumbing his tip as he tilts his head mockingly. "aww, shoulda thought about that.." he punctuates his words by tapping the reddish divoted head of himself on your poor, abused cunt. ".. 'fore you decided you were too impatient to wait for dick, greedy little thing."

without waiting longer, he suddenly thrusts himself deep into your velvety walls, which instantly clamp around him in welcome as a low, gargling whine leaves your throat pathetically at the intrusion of his sheer size, and how long it's been since he stretched you out last.

you claw at his back as he pulls you closer, pushing your legs up to fold you into such a mean, mating press, as he shoves the rest of himself into your throbbing entrance.

he doesn't even stutter in his movements, already beginning a relentless pace, only pausing to murmur huskily into the shell of your ear "s' this okay?" to which you give a small weak nod to, your body quivering as you tighten around him further.

and then, you can't think anymore as his hips slam into you ruthlessly, growling roughly in your ear about "how much he missed this slutty pussy" and "how good you take him" and "who needs fake toys when you have the real thing right here."

your head lolls back, a fucked-out expression on your face as you just lay back and take it, even when he throws your legs over his shoulders, and plows into you so bruisingly, the only sound is skin against skin and the slapping of his hefty balls on your ass, as your pliant body simply squirms and arches in his hold.

"s-sai.." you pant heavily, your breaths faltering with every ravaging thrust, your whole body moving with his force, as his tip repeatedly french-kisses your cervix, smearing wads of ribbony pre-cum in your insides. "s-slow down or i'm.."

his chest heaves above you as he wedges himself deeper into your warm walls, clenching so desperately around him, his tone breathy but scoffing. "y-yeah? don't tell me you're done already, sweetheart."

you whimper, as his palm comes down to lightly smack your pulsating clit, your stringiness of arousal sticking to him easily, and stretching between you.

his hips grow faster, more erratic, and less calculated, growing sloppier as the seconds pass, cock ramming into you deeper and deeper until your vision spots, and you don't even realize you're cumming until you hear his groan of surprise as your release gushes out of you, and sprays across his lower abdominals, coating him in your sticky sappy essence.

"baby.. did you jus' squirt?" jouno sounds almost in pain as his hips falter, and then he's cumming too, creamy white ropes spurting into you endlessly, stringy in their entirety as he smears his load into you until you can't even breathe you're so full.

finally, he releases his hold on you, and your sweat-sticky bodies peel away from one another to lie, panting and out of breath on the wrecked bed.

you're so dazed, and out of it, you don't even realize what jouno's doing until his hands are spreading your thighs apart, and his tongue laves over your messy, drooling pussy gently.

you shudder as he whispers into you, "oh and baby? i'm on leave for the next few months. so don't worry, y'er gonna have plentyyy of time with this cock. and m'not wasting a single second."

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faylvrs · 5 hours ago

Text

TONIGHT, GO CRAZY !

★ postscript. what i imagine the bllk men to be like at a christmas party. ★ feat. kaiser, rin, reo, nagi, sae, barou, bachira, shidou, isagi, otoya, karasu, aiku ★ contents. crack mostly, not really x reader LMAO

note. hello. i just wanna start this off by saying i am so so sorry for how late and rushed this is 😵‍💫. i scrapped my other multi cause the idea was sorta dumb and i didn’t know how to write it but.. merry ( late ) christmas and happy new year! hope you enjoy this silly little late gift <3

★ KAISER : WHO INVITED THE GRINCH BRUH..

absolutely does not want to be here, was forced to come because it was his birthday.. not that he actually cares about that. he probably got the most gifts, sent everyone like $1 as a return gift with a proud smirk—“money for the peasants, i guess.” his ass ate all of the cookies and would smack anyone who dared touch him.. ptsd ig 💙

★ RIN : PARTY LONER

not very fond of christmas after his brother dropped the bomb on him that he does not give 2 fucks about him. probably that one loner in the party who stays in the room upstairs. secretly wore a pendant that sae gave him on the last birthday they celebrated together, the picture being rin holding up sae’s trophy with a fond look on his face. christmas makes his heart ache with both nostalgia and sorrow.

★ REO : RICH AUNT

the rich aunt uncle, this motherfucker gifted every single person at the party something well over $1000, and the worst part is he knew exactly what to give everyone too. would brush it off with a “oh, its nothing. just spare change.” .. rich ass. screams in joy when someone gifts him something back, could be a $2 teddy bear and suddenly you’re opening your phone to ‘reo mikage has sent you $3000’.

★ NAGI : LONER #2

also forced to show up like kaiser. parties were never nagi’s thing, he’d much rather stay at home and play video games all day. it took a little bit of convincing ( and a lot of whining ) but he agreed to come if he could bring his phone. does not participate in anything, just lounges in the corner with the occasional damn it when he loses.

★ SAE : THE FUCKS A RETURN GIFT?

he came, with no gifts at all. according to him he expected everyone to be giving him gifts and not expecting anything in return.. i mean, his parents never asked him for a present back so could you blame him? yeah.. you kinda could. i could see him trying to make everything about soccer, imagine this: you’re unboxing your present and you get something like a new pan, and suddenly this bitch speaks up like. “shame its not a soccer ball.. this is why you suck.” someone tape his mouth now.

★ BAROU : PARTY HOST

helped hosting the party, cleaned the house spotless! he also probably cooked 70% of the food, thats what growing with sisters gets you :b. doubled as a security guard of sorts outside the house. except he didn’t ask for identification, he’d yell at you to take your dang shoes off before you walk in. spill anything on the floor? he is coming for you and your entire bloodline.. just kidding!

★ BACHIRA : “SANTA’S REAL..”

unironically believes santa is real, please help this man. to this date he still puts cookies and milk on the table. his mother used to eat them and keep a couple of presents under the tree, thinking he’ll eventually realise santa isn’t real.. which he didn’t. so when the presents suddenly stopped coming and no one ate the cookies, he thought he was on the naughty list forever and sobbed about it for 20 minutes.. poor guy. his heart shattered when isagi held his hand and told him santa isn’t real—he was only trying to help, he swears!

★ SHIDOU : “BRO YOU WEREN’T INVITED???”

shidou is the complete contrast from bachira. does not believe santa is real and crashes the party ( he was not invited. ) yells at children that santa isn’t real and started a tomato war at the party when someone threw a tomato at him and yelled booo! … thankfully, he was later kicked out.

★ ISAGI : SANTA.. NOT REALLY!

epitome of santa, the opposite of kaiser. made hand-made gifts for everyone.. well, almost everyone. ( did not bring one for kaiser <3 ) he had a mini concert at the party, singing his heart out until someone kaiser burst out laughing and started mocking his singing.. things got a little heated from there! lets just say the title of santa was taken away from isagi the moment his ass opened his mouth 💔

★ OTOYA : “WHERE THE HOES AT”

came for the hoes cause he was told there would be a bunch of hotties at the party, which there wasn’t.. but thats okay, he swings both ways! assaulted chigiri with his ninja moves until he got bored, probably pulled up a 10 slide presentation on why he should introduce him to his sister and that he’s got ‘the experience’.. yeah, he got slapped in the face.

★ KARASU : HO ACT LIKE HE A JUDGE..

everybody hates him. constantly judging literally everything.. “these cookies ‘r mediocre at best..” “i could gift ya somethin’ better cutie.” “damn, these decorations lame as hell.” you get the point. starts pouting like a man-child when isagi tells him to shut the hell up, he knows he deserves it but he just can’t help the lil itch in his brain to judge everything okay! ( he just like me fr.. red flag moment 💔 )

★ AIKU : HOES BEFORE BROS

cool unc of the party, drinks are on him alright. i can imagine him grabbing a random sharpie he found on a desk and suddenly giving out tattoo’s for a dollar, broke ass. works pretty efficiently until he’s being labelled a scammer when the tattoo turns out to look like dog shit.. cut him some slack, he’s no artist! leaves the party early when one of his hoes text him to come over.. ima slap the shit out of him n eita 💕

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reidsrambles · 17 hours ago

Text

Part 2: New Year's Day

This is part 2 of a duo, so please go read part 1, New Year's Eve, if you haven't yet!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Description: My only New Year's Eve plan is to help my best friend Penelope entertain her many party guests. When I find myself alone with her coworker, Spencer (who I've had a crush on for ages), it seems that my New Year's might turn out different than I had planned.

(Content/Warnings below the cut)

Content/Warnings: [18+ MDNI] smut, protected (condom) PiV sex, oral sex (F receiving), brief mention of being drunk or high in the past

A/N: Again, down the wire! I've been writing literally all day. It's 10 PM and I haven't yet made dinner... I wrote and edited this one basically just today?? So if there are any mistakes or I missed any warnings, pls lmk tysm. Again, credit to @saradika-graphics for the divider graphics, including the one I cropped below.

Names used: Baby

Words (this chapter): 3,734

Words (total): 5,759

The kiss is desperate, but not rough. He’s kissing me back, right? I pull my face away. He leans his forehead against mine, both of us panting into the mere inches between our lips.

He doesn’t loosen his hold on my body. “Is everything okay? We can stop if you want.”

“I don’t want to stop.” I grip the fabric of his shirt where my hands lie on his back. “Do you want to stop?”

His hand snakes down to my ass, splaying wide across it. He pulls my body into his, letting me feel his hardening cock.

“I really don’t want to stop,” he breathes into my neck, just below my ear, “but I have to confess something before we go any further.”

What the hell? Does he have an STI that I need to know about? Trouble keeping it up? I mean, that doesn’t seem to be a problem, but you never know. Is he already with someone? Penelope didn’t say he had a partner, but maybe he’s kept them a secret?

We both still, Spencer breathing against my neck. I’d consider it ticklish if not for the jolt it sends straight to my core.

“I’ve been attracted to you for a long time, but I was too scared to say anything.” The words come out of Spencer’s mouth. Not mine. Holy shit.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I laugh, dropping my head to Spencer’s chest in utter bewilderment. “I’ve had a crush on you since the first time we met. Penelope hasn’t stopped teasing me about it since.”

“Glad I’m not alone in that,” he laughs.

“Happy New Year, by the way,” I say, lifting my head to look at him again. Eyes, lips. Eyes, lips.

“Happy New Year,” he breathes, hovering against my lips. Oppositely charged magnets falling in order with the laws of physics. Complying with the will of the universe.

I’ve never been kissed like this. Maybe it’s the thrill of unrequited lust finally requited, or maybe Spencer is just a really good kisser. His hands cradle my head on both sides. It’s like he could kiss you for hours and never be sick of it. Every soft, lush kiss plays against the intermittent roughness. The desperate ones, where lips are bit and tongues are engaged in the fervor. It feels wholly consuming and incomplete at the same time.

“We don’t have to do anything else,” I say, “but to be clear, I’m definitely down if you want to.”

He shakes his head and steps back, putting distance between us. He clenches and unclenches his hands and then rubs his palms against his dress pants.

My eyes catch on the bulge in his pants, and shamelessly, I can’t stop staring at it. I’ve imagined it before, in my most desperate, lonely moments. Right after breakups, when I’d rather escape into my imagination to soothe me. After running into him at one of Penelope’s get-togethers. I’d steal every shy glance at him, trying to memorize his features. Then I’d go home and imagine myself kissing every inch of him.

I know I probably just need a good eight to…twelve hours of sleep to clear the fog in my brain that’s making this feel like another one of my erotic daydreams. But maybe being a bit out of it is what led me to kiss him like that. If I had been at my most rational, I probably wouldn’t have.

Spencer wipes at his face. He can’t stop moving his hands. Biting a nail between his teeth. Gripping the material of his pants. Crossing and uncrossing his arms.

“[Y/N], you have no idea how badly I want to.” My heart sinks into my stomach. There’s always a but. “But I don’t want it to happen like this.”

I nod slowly, genuinely trying to avoid letting my disappointment come across as pouting. “Okay. That’s fair.”

He looks utterly exasperated, trying to keep his hands off me, and I’ve never felt so horny and so dejected at the same time. If he didn’t clearly state that he’s into me, I can’t lie and say that I wouldn’t feel extremely rejected right now.

“I’ve thought about it before,” he says. “What it would be like… to be with you. I just don’t want the first time to be at a party, in Penelope’s guest room”

I sit back down on the bed, willing my body to cool down, but it’s a non-starter. “I’ve thought about it before. What it would be like… to be with you,” playing back in my head on an unending loop. Clenched thighs give my clit the slightest bit of attention and ease the ache every so slightly.

“I’ve thought about it too,” I say, reminiscing about the numerous dirty fantasies I’ve crafted in my head over the years. I owe far too many orgasms to my vibrator, and to imaginary Spencer praising me, begging me to cum.

He rakes his fingers through his hair. “God, this is so hard.”

Hard, indeed. I selfishly ogle the tent in his pants again, taking advantage of the fact that he’s struggling to look in my direction.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask. “Do you want to leave?”

He joins me on the edge of the mattress. Again, a respectable distance between us.

He sighs. “If I don’t leave now, I don’t think I’ll have enough self-control to stop myself.”

Yet, he’s sitting beside me, wringing his hands in his lap.

Before I can formulate any response, he starts. “What about when the party ends?”

“I locked the door on the way in. I didn’t want anyone barging in here trying to find the bathroom. And,” I gesture to the door, the party even louder now that the champagne is flowing, “this party doesn’t die down until three, maybe four.”

“I don’t have a condom, either,” he says quietly.

I push myself up off the bed and walk over to the bedside table. I’ve stayed in this room many times. Usually, when I get drunk or high and can’t drive home. Penelope snores. As much as I love her to bits, if she didn’t have a guest bedroom, I’d be sleeping on the couch.

I rifle through the top drawer. A couple of individually packaged toothbrushes. A couple of mini bottles of mouthwash. Charging cables. Nope, nope, nope.

I squat down to look through the bottom drawer, consciously arching my back and popping my ass out a bit. I know they’re in here somewhere. In the back of the drawer, tucked away, is a small, colorful zipper pouch. I’ve stumbled across this pouch before, but I can safely say that I’ve never used it. I hope nobody else has, either, honestly. Tucked inside is a roll of male condoms and a few individually packaged female condoms.

I (mentally, emotionally, spiritually) cross my fingers as I check the date printed across the wrapper. They aren’t expired. Thank fucking god.

I rip one off at the perforated line and place it in Spencer’s hand.

He fiddles with the foil wrapper in his fingers. Not opening it. Just turning it in his hands.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks. “Here? Like this?”

“Before tonight, I honestly thought there was zero chance you liked me. I’ve wanted this for so long, and I’m so incredibly horny right now that it’s actually hard to think straight.” I wrap my hand around his, and he stops fidgeting. “Is there anything else?”

My question is sincere and gentle. Is there anything else that you need to reassure you that I want this? Is there anything else you need?

“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time, but I was tested after,” he says.

“I was tested after my last partner.”

I start undoing my blouse. Button by button. Lower and lower. Spencer mirrors me, undoing his crisp, blue dress shirt. Button by button. Lower and lower.

“And we can stop at any point, so please let me know if there’s anything you want or don’t want,” he says.

“Same goes for you.”

I slide my blouse off and unzip my skirt at the side. With my tights already off, I’m left in just my bra and underwear, my clothes in a pile beside the bed. Spencer takes his shirt off and his pants follow. He tries his best to quickly fold them, and in two large strides, he places them on top of the dresser.

He turns to face me. In just his underwear, I have quite the view. I don’t even think he’s fully hard, but my mouth is watering at the outline of him. The butterflies are gone, replaced by a pang of hunger. I want to lick and taste every inch of him. The mental renderings I’ve crafted of Spencer in the past are all wiped from my memory. I have no use for them anymore. I have the real thing, actively being encoded into memory.

He comes to stand between my legs. Still seated, his veiled cock is right in front of my face.

“[Y/N], there’s just one more question that I have to ask first.”

I can only imagine what he sees looking down at me. As I look up at him through my lashes, my wet lips and flushed, glowing cheeks sit right next to his hard cock.

Does he know that I’ve been rocking my hips and squeezing my thighs together just to pacify my throbbing clit?

“Can we go on a real date too sometime?” he says. “I don’t want this to be a one-time thing, and I also don’t want this to ruin my chances with you.”

I feel stupid for not thinking that far ahead. If he had just wanted this to be a one-night stand, I would have accepted that, even though I know I want more with him.

I nod and kiss the front of his hip, earning a stuttered breath from him when my cheek grazes his bulge.

“I’d love that, Spencer.”

I drag my face across his covered cock. Everything about this—about him—is intoxicating. I breathe him in, my hands on his hips, and the scent feels like a drug I could get high off of.

“Can you lie down?” he says.

I have no objections.

I rip my bra and underwear off as fast as I can manage, pulling my bra over my head instead of undoing the clasps. I toss them to the floor to join the rest of my clothes. I’m, maybe a bit shamelessly, too eager to waste any time.

Spencer is standing next to the bed, naked, jaw slack, just stroking himself to nothing but my naked body. That’ll do great things for the ego.

“You are…” he breathes, shaking his head. The words he’s missing hang somewhere in the air, but he doesn’t look away from me long enough to search for them.

He opens the foil wrapper, rolls the condom on, and crawls onto the bed between my legs. I expect him to just shove it in there, but instead, he drags two long fingers through my wetness, absolutely mesmerized.

“Perfect,” he says, staring at my pussy. “So perfect.”

He slides one finger inside me and I gasp. It doesn’t fill me, but when he takes it out a moment later, I still mourn the emptiness. He takes the same finger into his mouth, eyes closed as he admires the taste of me.

I’m pretty sure that I can’t get any hornier than I am at this moment. It’s physiologically impossible.

“Please, Spencer. Fuck,” I whine. “I need you inside me.”

Quick pecks trace a line up my body, and Spencer kisses me, bodies pressed together like he’s never going to kiss me again. It’s deep, sloppy, and passionate. Moaning into each other’s mouths as I grip his hips. His cock is nestled in my center. I grind against it.

Breathless, Spencer lifts his body just enough to reach between us, guiding his cock to where we need it.

I close my eyes as he enters me; I have to turn off one of my senses to process it. In the black void behind my eyelids, I can feel everything. I can hear everything. A choked moan at the back of my throat breaks free. He pushes in further. Spencer shifts from his hands to his elbows, using the leverage to slide in even more.

“Oh, god. This is so much better than I imagined,” he says, his voice strained from pleasure.

Was Spencer thinking about me at the same time I was thinking about him? Like two lovers wondering if the other is gazing up at the moon at the same time. I open my eyes. The tufts of hair framing his face flop down, a few stray strands sticking to his face. The room is already warming and his skin glistens in it.

“What did you think about? What did you imagine?” I ask.

He fills me to the hilt, and his lips find mine; the kiss a fierce declaration that this shared sensation in our bodies is indeed shared. Spencer is feeling the same utter bliss that I am, and the thought of that alone sends a spark to my core. I’m making him feel this good.

Spencer remains unmoving, huffing breaths intermixed with muttered curses as he adjusts. The part where we’re united throbs like a beating heart, both of our bodies diverting blood from our brains to fuel this tryst.

“I felt so ashamed thinking about you like that,” he whispers against my cheek, “not knowing if you wanted me, too.”

Pinned beneath him, I push my hips up against him as much as I can manage, desperate for more. Spencer’s eyes flutter closed as he matches my movements, his cock sliding in and out as we grind into each other.

“Did you think about what I’d feel like the first time? Because I thought about what you’d feel like inside me.”

Earning moans from Spencer feels like a gift. A secret that has been bestowed upon me. For my ears only. I want to wrap this secret up and hide it under my bed. To throw it in a box and padlock it shut. I want to place it in a fancy locket, one I hide under my shirt, tucked up safe against my skin where nobody else can reach it.

“I thought about that far too much.” He shakes his head. “But you’re even better than I could’ve imagined.”

He pumps into me a few more times, hard and fast, as our bodies take the wheel, chasing the zenith of pleasure. We move together as a duet. The song? A lullaby of moans, whimpers, and whispered praises.

With each thrust, his body presses against my clit.

“Oh my god. You feel so fucking good, Spencer.”

He reaches a hand up to the side of my face, cradling my head and stroking my cheek with his thumb. I can feel the heat radiating from my cheeks. His thumb is icy in comparison.

“You are so fucking beautiful.” He glances at my chest, and then his eyes dart as he takes in the rest of my body. “Your body is perfect.” He peppers kisses across my lips, my shoulder, my neck. Every place his lips touch stings like I’ve been branded. “Perfect,” he breathes against my neck.

“How did I taste?” I ask, remembering Spencer licking his finger clean.

“Addictive” is the word he chooses, and thoughts of Spencer’s head between my legs—in my own bed—consume me.

He slows, almost to a stop. “Would you mind if I…?”

I finish his trailed-off sentence, not entirely sure if I’m right on the money or not. “Go down on me?”

He nods, and a breathy, “please,” is all I can manage to squeak out. It would be damn near impossible to think of a single reason to deny this man in his request.

Between my legs—framed like a work of art—Spencer keeps his eyes locked on my face as he trails his tongue up between my lips.

“Oh, fuck. Oh my god. Please. Please keep going.”

He moans into my pussy, wasting no time in getting into it.

“Can I grab your head as I get close?”

He whines, “please,” against my skin, and I tell him to pinch me if he needs me to loosen my grip.

Spencer’s long arms wrap around my thighs, keeping me from squirming away. I’ve never had anyone go down on me like this. He is feral, barely coming up for air. I reach down to slide my fingers into his hair, feeling myself inch closer and closer by the second. He’s humping the bed, large dimples forming in his plush ass. I just want to dig my nails into it.

One arm lifts from its spot around my leg. Spencer is a man on a mission. He needs that arm, that hand, those fingers. Two fingers slide inside me, and I know I’m not going to last. I squirm against him and he lets me control the penetration, keeping his hand still. His mouth, however, continues in its relentless pursuit.

I feel like I’ve unlocked something here. This version of Spencer is unleashed. He’s had his taste of the forbidden fruit, and he’s fully invested.

I grip his head, needing to pull him into me. Needing to control the pressure.

“Spencer, fuck.”

“Yes, baby. Please cum in my mouth.”

“I—” is all I spit out before it hits me. A tidal wave of heat and pressure that radiates from my core. I grip Spencer’s hair between my fingers and he moans even harder. I squeeze my eyes shut so hard that, when I open them, my vision is a pinhole vignetted by fuzzy white light. His tongue continues lapping at my center until my thighs trap his head, my clit unable to take anymore.

My whole body is tingling. Every nerve in my body is on high alert. My ab muscles twitch with each jerky breath as the lingering shockwaves work through me.

Spencer is kissing my thighs as if each space his lips touch is better than the last. He is relishing in my body. Worshipping it.

In this state, having cum so hard that my ears are ringing, I probably wouldn’t hesitate to declare my ardent love for him. Thankfully, I have some logic system deep in my brain that remains online and protects me from stupid mistakes like that.

“Spencer, please. Get back inside me.”

The moan that spills from us both as he slides back inside me, my pussy still throbbing with aftershocks, should be tattooed somewhere on my body. The waveform of it or whatever. My new New Year’s resolution: get a tattoo. Add that to my other New Year’s resolution: let Spencer Reid fucking rail me in every way possible.

His thrusts are already sloppier than before. “Yes, fuck. Yes. Do you know how fucking good you taste, baby? I could eat you out for hours. So perfect.”

I grab his jaw and kiss him, tasting myself. Tasting me and him mixed together.

“Spencer, I’ve wanted this for so long. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

I feel tears brimming in my eyes. Exhaustion, overwhelm, pleasure, and lust well up right at the finish line. Every sporadic back-arching thrust flutters my eyelids, pushing a small tear down both sides of my face.

“The first day I met you,” he says, struggling to get the words out fluidly, “you were the most beautiful thing. The most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

My hands slide to his ass, and I grip the flesh. I want my nails to leave a mark. I want to claim him as my own.

“Cum inside me, Spencer.”

He pounds into me, hard. The passion he showed while giving me oral is back in full force.

His head falls into the crook of my neck as he works himself to the edge, muffling the dirty string of words that escape as he falls apart. His cock twitches hard inside me as he spills into the condom. I wish he was condomless, shooting his ropes of cum deep within me. But maybe that’s just a dirty fantasy that will never come to fruition.

Spencer peppers me with some more kisses before getting up to discard the condom in the small trash can beside the door.

“I’ll change that garbage bag before I leave,” he says.

“I’m going to have to tell her,” I say, pulling my underwear up. “I’ll have to do some laundry for sure.” I gesture to the disheveled, dirty sheets.

“Yeah, I know. She’s nosy, so I bet she’d figure it out regardless,” he laughs. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need. With the cleanup.”

The party noise is more subdued, but it sounds like the majority of guests are still here. The small digital alarm clock beside the bed reads 1:15 AM.

“Wanna just wait it out?” I ask, straightening out the sheets just enough to crawl under them. “I promised Penelope I’d help her clean up, anyway.”

Spencer slips in beside me and I snuggle into his side, draping my leg over his and wrapping an arm across his chest.

“I much prefer it in here,” he says, pressing his lips to my temple.

I kiss him one last time, long and tender, before resting my head on his shoulder. I don’t even get a word out of my mouth before I crash once more.

A sharp knock on the door jolts me and Spencer from our very deep slumber. Morning light filters through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. I rub my eyes, swiping away the remnants of such a sleep. On the plus side, I feel fucking fantastic. Spencer sits up and stretches his arms above his head.

Another knock. Much harder.

“[Y/N]?” Penelope asks through the door.

We hop out of bed to hurriedly finish redressing ourselves.

“Shit, I fell asleep last night! I’m sorry, Pen!” I yell to her.

“Is…Spencer still in there with you?”

“Yes,” I say, annoyed. “Happy now?”

“I cleared off some space on the counter and started making breakfast whenever you two are dressed!”

Previous Chapter: New Year's Eve

AO3 | Tumblr | Masterlist

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fic #reidsrambles-writes

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pshbites · 2 days ago

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🎐 𓍼ֶָ֢⊹ ࣪ ˖ : MY 2O25 SEASON’S GREETINGS ‹𝟹

to pshbites nation : thank you for always supporting my works :( , i love each and every reblog, comment, ask, or follow i get on my posts and i love seeing them. truly it makes my day to see all of the silly comments on my posts and im so glad you guys are here to support me. i am so grateful for how far i’ve gotten with you guys and i hope we can stick it out together 🫶

i hope to put out so many more things for you guys in this coming year so i hope you guys are excited to read it as much as im excited to share it with you guys. never did i think i would open this account this year but im glad i did because in doing so ive met so many great people ive gotten close with and i get to interact with you guys !

to nunu : thank you for it all truly. thank you for pushing me to make this account when i came to you with the love on air plot and even before that thank you for reading any snippets of writing i sent you even tho it was the buttfuck middle of the night for you you still made sure to give me proper feedback and i can’t thank you more. i miss you bad habibti and i know we’re both busy people but im glad i get to talk to you even if it is for little bits of the day. i love you and #nununana4Eva @haedgaf @lqfiles

to my best friends : mars, @chobunz words cannot express how much i love and care for you. i love our stupid texts about anything and i love our deeper conversations even more. i love staying up until 4 in the morning just talking about anything and i love our bond so much. i wouldn’t trade it for the world. lee , @leeechin i love you, so so much. i know i tell you this often but truly i love you. i know sometimes life gets busy but even without talking to you everyday i feel so much closer to you. i love when you pop in just to talk to us and even though we still talk often ill still miss you because im forever attached to the both of you. meeting the two of you has made life on here and in general so much better and im glad we get to start the new year together with one another 🫂🫂 #InDaClerbWeAllFam ☹️

to my close moots : liz @cupidhoons , i didn’t think i would meet someone so similar to me in such a short amount of time but i did and im so glad we’ve met and crossed paths. truly, you’re like a little sister to me and i wont drone on but i love you so much. truly i care for you a lot and i didn’t think i would connect so fast with you but we did and im so happy for that fact. lils @suneng , i love you bad my twinem :((( i enjoy our stupid conversations about whatever the fuck and our convos abt life and i’m so happy we’ve gotten a bit closer this year and i hope we can talk some more. sav @ourhees , i adore you so much, i think you are the sweetest thing ever and i love our conversations even if it does get a bit emotional sometimes. i’m glad im one of the people you can call a friend. i care about you so much and i think you are genuinely so smart and talented, it’s been rough but im glad we met each other and i can sometimes give you peace of mind, i hope we get closer later on. mims @kiss4noo , where to even begin 🫠.. i love and care for you so much. i love our occasional conversations but even then some days i strive to talk to you. we’re both busy people and i respect that so much. i’m glad we can go days without talking and still be as close as ever, you may not think it but i do enjoy being here for you and im glad you’re here for me as well i love you so so much and i wont ever stop. emer @coqhee , i know we don’t talk as often anymore but i hold so much love for you in my heart even if its talking about stupid things or talking about writing or just ourselves. i love hearing about your day you smartie pants so i hope we can talk even more about silly things or just ourselves as always.

to my moots : i’m glad to have met each of you and i’m so happy to see that i am so loved on this app, truly i admire each and every one of you in your own way shape and forms and i wouldn’t trade it for the world. i love you all so so much and im so happy we’re starting the new year as moots and hopefully as closer friends 🫂

some moots i want to get closer with : @flwrstqr @junislqve @tzyunaes @okwonyo @bywons @silquids @mygnolia @jaysng @fairqves @leaderwon

#yes this is inspo from jiah dani and sav ..#kaia rantz ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 #to : pshbites nation #moots ♡#i love all of u so bad and yes i did drone on abt some things but it’s okay bc i love and appreciate each and every one of u !

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amyispxnk · 21 hours ago

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here is my notes during reading<3 :

The yearning is killing meee omg like

Beautiful. He called you beautiful. Even if you were falling in and out of sleep, you still heard his slow drawl float through your ears, and you’re still blushing from the electric moment. He doesn’t need to know you heard it. You’ll just keep it tucked away in your locket, save it for a rainy day when you can repeat it a thousand times in your mind. Maybe one day he’ll say it again. Or maybe, one day you’ll be strong enough to look him in the eyes and tell him exactly how he makes you feel. Safe, beautiful, whole, seen.

Ughh

Also I love how understanding and gentle Sarah was like, the bond between them almost instantaneously was really sweet

“I don’t know,” she laughs, shrugging casually as her hair tumbles past her shoulders. “He just seems lighter, maybe a little brighter. His eyes, they’re a little clearer. I think… I think ever since you came here. Yeah, that’s when I noticed the change.”

IM SCREAMINGG I LOVE THEM

Physical contact is not in your book of things that make you feel good anymore. But with Joel? It feels more than right. It feels… perfect. Like his hand was made to brush against yours. Or maybe it was made so he could intertwine his fingers with yours, thread them together like your stitched-up heart. You think you’d like that. One day. And maybe he would too.

It's the way he's literally her person for me. The way he's saved/saving her in every way and I love him sm for it

There’s a spark, a lapse in time where fireworks go off somewhere in the far distance. You can almost hear the sizzling and booms as they light in the sky. But instead, you hear Joel’s name whooshing around your mind, lighting you up a variety of colors. He painted you a multitude of shades and brought life back in your eyes when all you could see was black and white before.

that paragraph FLOORED me. That description was so so beautiful woah

NO WAIT OMG. THE WAY IM LITERALLY SCREAMING RNNN. HE'S PLAYING THE GUITAR FOR HER?? AFTER NOT PLAYING FOR AGES??

He stops you before you can finish your stammering. “S’alright, sweetheart. You didn’t do anything.” But it feels like you did. After a beat, he huffs out a breath. “I’ll, uhh. I’ll try, sweetheart. For you, I’ll try.”

AHHHHHHHHHHHH

Is the person he lost Ellie?? Like the moth is making me think. Can you imagine. I'd be shattered if that's the twist you're about to pull

The way he touches you—it’s not sexual. Not in the least bit. It’s warm, filled with so much care and attention. Just like the special recipes he conjures up in the kitchen. It’s filled with extra care. And God, how he cares for you. Just like you care for him…

The way he's so gentle with her I cantttttt ☹️☹️

AHH

I love them and this series so much. Your story writing is incredible and the characters are always so amazing

✨Saving What Was Lost Part 6: New Introductions with a Cup of Hot Chocolate✨

Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: The frequent need to write about these two is always sitting in the back of my mind. The slow burn is burning, friends 🥹 I have so much more left for these two, so this is a little New Year’s present because the writing bug hit me this week. I hope you enjoy 🩷

Chapter Summary: An unexpected guest appears in Joel’s front door, but it’s not just any guest. It’s his daughter Sarah, and he wants you to meet her.

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 6.8k

Chapter Tags: Fluff, angst, meeting Sarah, soft! Joel, age gap (reader is late 20’s and Joel is late 40’s), slow burn, mentions of being trafficked, hurt Joel, yearning, so much yearning

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

November autumn leaves fall from the oak and maple trees outside the view of the floor to ceiling windows, stacking vivid piles of bright orange and dark red colors across the front lawn. Whiffs of pine and cinnamon permeate through the house, creating the perfect atmosphere to read by the crackling fireplace in the living room.

That’s what you spend most of your time doing these days. Reading anything and everything you can get your hands on. Joel has hundreds of books scattered around his house, so you don’t have to go far to find something you want.

You love the afternoons. Love being in the comfort of a home where you feel warm and relaxed. Where you feel… safe. Yes, safe. Joel does that. Makes you feel like you’re in the presence of a knight in shining armor. You guess that’s what he is to you. Your savior. But mostly, you love afternoons because that means he’s here, and he’s choosing to spend his time with you.

The other night when he watched Gone with the Wind with you was the first time you actually had fun in a long, long time. And he made sure you were comfortable and taken care of, made sure you got to bed okay. But the one thing that burns like flickers of embers in your brain is the moment he picked you up and took you upstairs.

He was so… careful. Gentle, even. You latched on so tight to him that he had to pry your fingers from his flannel. He tucked you in, that much you remember. But also, you vaguely remember the faint brush of his fingers on your cheek, a lock of hair pushed behind your ear, and whispered words of affirmation.

Thumbing through the colorful bookcase, you slip a book out and start scanning the back. Just when you start to flip the front page, the click of the front door opens, and then you hear voices. Joel’s and someone you don’t recognize. Pressing the book against your chest to hug away the anxiety that’s building in your system, you pause when in comes Joel with a girl with big doe eyes and long strands of curly dark hair. You take a good, long look, your brain suddenly registering who she is.

Sarah.

You drop the book from your arms and it goes tumbling to the floor, your mouth parted open in mere shock as you register the situation.

Joel steps forward, enough to feel the heat from his body against yours, his arm placed gently around Sarah’s back, pushing her forward to present to you. He clears his throat and smiles. “Have someone I’d like to introduce you to, sweetheart.” He flicks his brown eyes to you and then back to Sarah as she stands gleaming in the sunlight with a bright smile. “This is Sarah, my daughter.” And then he says your name, introducing you the same.

You stand there lock-jawed, eyes wide, arms down at your sides, your mouth parched of words as you take her in. Big smile, as kind as her brown eyes. Eyes like Joel’s. She has a light dusting of freckles across her nose, cheeks warm and pink. She looks so kind. Kind like Joel, you think.

She says your name brightly and flashes you a genuine smile. “It’s so good to finally meet you! I’ve heard so much.” Before you register what happens, she’s throwing her arms around your back and pulling you in for a tight embrace.

Your eyes widen in confusion, mouth hanging open as she squeezes you tighter with your arms still draped to the sides of your body. It’s like you’re a long-distance cousin she hasn’t seen in years, but you’ve never met her in your life. But you think it’s okay because she’s a survivor like you, and you feel like you do know her. Joel’s told you so much.

Briefly flicking your eyes up, Joel chuckles under his breath from the foyer and gives you an encouraging smile, his eyes sparkling with glee as he takes in the sight of his sweet daughter pulling you in for a hug.

As if he’s encouraging you, you cautiously snake your arms around her back and hug her right back, embracing her like a sister that got lost along the way of the kidnapping. And when you finally breathe in her strawberry scent, you hold her tighter for just a few seconds knowing that she had everything stripped from her years ago too.

When you release your arms from her, Joel gives you a small smile and slowly retreats back from the room. “I’ll get out of your hair, let you two talk.” And then he’s disappearing around the corner, leaving you alone with Sarah.

“You want to go out on the back porch?” Sarah asks brightly, brown eyes as big as the moon.

You give her a shy smile and hesitate because you’ve never actually been out there before. You kind of just locked yourself in the house, afraid to venture far from closed doors and warm air. Afraid to go far because you’re still scared. Scared someone could take you away from Joel again… “Umm, sure. I’ve never really been out there before.”

“You’ve never been out back?” she asks, shocked, jaw dropping like you just said you’ve never seen colors before.

You shrug meekly and say, “Kinda keep tucked away in the house.”

Registering your answer, she closes her lips and nods. “I understand. It’s nice and cozy in here, but come on. You’ll love it.”

She tugs your wrist and pulls you along with her toward the back glass door, only stopping momentarily to pick up two fleece blankets from a little basket tucked next to the fireplace. Handing you one before she slides the door open, she encourages you forward.

When you step out onto the wooden back porch, your jaw drops as you take in the beautiful view. Acres upon green acres expand over the horizon. A small pond that glistens in the sunlight sits a couple miles out. A flock of birds soar in the blue sky, only disappearing behind some forming grey clouds in the near distance. And the trees… so many tall, green, large scatters of them expand over the open land. It’s almost like home…

“Whoa. This is…” You pause, mouth suddenly dry as you join Sarah on the porch swing, eyes still roving across the beautiful view. How did you not know this was out here all this time?

“Pretty great, right? Dad owns all this. All the way back behind that line of thick trees.”

You scan the horizon, but you don’t see an end anywhere in sight. He must own hundreds of acres.

Taking a deep breath, you part your lips and smile, pulling the blanket up over your lap to dissipate some of the November chill. “I’ve been kind of a recluse since I’ve been here. I just can’t believe I missed this. It’s beautiful…” And it is. Breathtaking, actually. It kind of takes the ache away, fills you with a little happiness that replaces all the bad things that have happened to you over the past couple of years.

“That’s okay,” she smiles encouragingly. “You’re seeing it now.”

You take another moment to soak it all in. The crisp smell of autumn, the yellow and red tinted leaves that blend in with the deep greens, the open land that’s filled with picturesque views that you swore would never be in Texas. But this? This is as close to home as you’ve felt for a long time.

Sarah’s warm voice pulls you back to the present. “Dad’s told me a lot about you.”

You turn your head, eyes a little weary. He’s told her about you? “Really?” you ask, taken aback.

“Mhm,” she hums out with a smile plastered on her glossy lips.

“Nothing bad I hope,” you breathe out.

She shakes her head, curls bouncing with the movement. “Oh, no. Only good things. He really likes your company.”

He likes your company?

You smile to yourself, feeling a blush set in on your cheeks as the cool air blows against your skin. He likes your company… “Well, I like his too.” But really, you mean to say you just like him. More than his company. You like being in his space, nuzzling into his soft flannels that smell like him—Pinewoods, mahogany, and a hint of black coffee. You like talking to him, watching his dimples cave into his tanned cheeks when he’s smiling. You just like him. All of him. You like everything about him. Especially how kind and soft he is with you. You like it all. And that scares you a little, but you shouldn’t be because he makes you feel so safe.

Yes, safe.

She pulls her knees up to her chest, hugging them to her pink hoodie, the blanket loosely draped across her shoulders, and then she takes a good look at you, like she’s doing a deep dive into your mind. “How are you doing, really?”

You let the question simmer, let it bubble inside you as you contemplate exactly what you’ll say. How are you really feeling? Drained, worn down, discarded, hurt. But there’s a chip inside you, one that’s filled with a little warmth, a little healing. A part of you is being stitched back together. One thread at a time. And it’s not because you’re away from that awful house, away from their clawing hands and sharp commands. You think maybe, just maybe, Joel’s healing a teeny tiny part of you. Inside and out. He’s making you whole again. Even in the short amount of time you’ve been here, you think he’s making you brand new.

He’s making you feel not so alone. He’s making you feel safe, wanted. He’s giving you wings…

“I’m hanging in there,” you say quietly, fingers brushing lightly over the fleece blanket. ”Kinda just taking it one day at a time.”

“It’s been a little over a month now, yeah?” she questions, tilting her head as her brown eyes glisten through the clouds now hanging over the covered porch.

“Yeah, that’s right,” you nod, eyes wandering back to the big, open field. You could get lost in those sea of trees. Run, disappear forever. But you don’t think you want to anymore. At least, not right now.

“How long were you gone for?”

You fiddle with your bottom lip, wincing at the lost time that’s gone by. “Almost two years. Seems more like ten, if I’m being honest. Time seems to blur together when you’re… Well, when you don’t know if you’ll make it through the night.”

A lump forms in the back of your throat, making your eyes a little blurry from the thought of being gone for so long. How had you managed to survive all those days of abuse and torment? How’d you ever get saved by the likes of someone like Joel? Warm, kind, safe.

She twirls a strand of her dark curls around her index finger, eyeing you with big sad eyes that make you want to choke out a sob, but you don’t. “I wasn’t gone nearly as long as you. And I can’t imagine what you went through. Two years, that’s… God. I’m so sorry.” Regret fills her eyes, and then she places a hand softly on your shoulder, saying just as much in her touch.

“Yeah, I am too,” you say a little dazed as her hand slips away from you, back into her lap.

You mull over what you’ll say next while your emotions are running rampant. You feel everything all over again. The fear, the blinding pain, the inconsolable ache in your bones that won’t go away. You’ve been scared for so long, so how are you supposed to navigate your way through life again? How are you supposed to go on when the weight of the world rests like cement on your chest?

Turning your head toward her slowly, you ask something that’s been bothering you. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” she questions; her tone gentle and patient.

“Keep living a normal life,” you whisper, letting your words float across the frigid air, right back to Sarah.

She shifts in her seat and takes a beat before answering, her voice calm and collected. “I wouldn’t exactly call my life normal. It’s gotten almost to that point, but there’s still days I can hardly get out of bed, nonetheless eat. But my boyfriend, Ryan, helps me when it gets like that. Or I talk to Tess. Have you seen her yet?”

Tess. That’s right. You forgot about Tess.

You shake your head. “Not yet.” But you’d really like to.

“She’s great. She’s really helped. Even my dad sees her sometimes.”

“Your dad sees her?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

She nods. “Yeah, she’s actually helped him a lot too with everything. Especially with his line of work. He really needs someone to lean on on the hard days, you know?”

You let your mind settle on her words, your thoughts turning back and forth over the endless images of Joel’s sleepless nights. The deep shadows under his chocolate eyes. The restless image of him hunched over a laptop with his fingers lacing frustratedly through his dark locks. The late night runs he has to do periodically. The stressful calls he takes right when he’s about to head to bed. The times he’s not home when it’s three in the morning. The pacing back and forth he does when Tommy’s talking to him about a job. But there’s one thing you don’t ever miss. The pain that flares behind his brown irises, blending in with the inky flecks that remind you of dark chocolate.

Something hurt him. Something continues to hurt him, and you don’t even know what that something is.

Jesus. You don’t even know half of what Joel goes through, but you think he might need someone just as badly as you do. Maybe, just maybe, you can be that something he needs because he’s that to you. He’s your foundation when you had nothing.

“Your dad, what he does, he’s helped so many girls…” you murmur, your voice caught in your throat as you think about everything he’s done specifically for you. But really, it just takes a toll on you thinking of everyone he has saved. He’s… incredible.

She smiles, her cheeks bright from the crisp air. “He’s saved countless lives. And for that, I really couldn’t ask for a better dad.”

No. She really couldn’t. He is the best dad, and she’s so lucky to have him.

After a moment of silence passes, she speaks again. “He seems happier lately.”

Your eyes flick over to hers while your heart does a somersault in your chest. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she smiles gently.

“What makes you say that?” The knot tightens in your stomach, and maybe you’re a little scared of the answer. Was it… was he happier because you were here? No, that couldn’t be possible, could it?

Your eyes widen, lips part in awe. Did she just say… No. You must’ve heard wrong.

“Me? But I…”

She stops you mid-sentence and smiles. “He likes your company, like I said. I can tell. He’s never been… Well, he hasn’t been happy in a while. It’s nice to see him smiling for a change.”

You bite your bottom lip out of habit and curl your fingers into the fleece of the blanket, tossing ideas back and forth in your mind. Maybe he has been smiling more lately. Like on movie night. You’ve never seen him laugh so carefree before. He did seem happier. A little more teasing, maybe even playful in a way. You wanted to see more of that. Carefree Joel is heart stopping.

“And you think I’m the reason he seems happier?” you laugh, a pang of disbelief flowing through your body. Could you really be the reason he was happier?

“I really do,” she confirms with the imprint of a dimple in her cheek, solidifying the question.

You’re the reason he’s happier…

“Hey, umm. I just wanted to say you can reach out to me anytime. I’m always available if you need a friend,” she smiles, her eyes sincere and warm. “And just know that you’re a survivor. You’re a strong one, and there’s nothing you can’t overcome. Never give up. Keep fighting the long fight. You’ve got this. I believe in you, my dad believes in you, Tommy does too.”

They believe in you. Joel believes in you. And that in itself means so much to you…

“Thanks, Sarah. I’m so glad I got to meet you.” A tear forms in the corner of your eye, but you brush it off just as Sarah squeezes your knee in encouragement.

Before you can say another word, you hear a shuffling noise by the door. “Hope I didn’t intrude on anything.” Joel slides the glass door open, balancing mugs with two hands and one braced against his flexed arm, making you almost lose your balance at the sight of him. Tall, fitted blue flannel around his muscular arms, slicked back hair with silver streaks glistening even under the cover of a grey cloud. So handsome, so put together, so…

“Oh, no. Not at all, Dad!” Sarah chimes in, giddy as she reaches for the pink tinted mug in his firm grasp.

“Thought I’d whip up some hot chocolate for you two. It’s a bit chilly out here. Don’t want ya to catch a cold. Plus, I know how much you like my homemade recipe, Sarah.” He smiles as she takes a big gulp, groaning when she swallows the first taste.

“Yes! I knew you’d make me your famous hot chocolate. Thanks, Dad. You’re the best.” She throws him a toothy grin and settles back against the swing, kicking her legs carefree while she indulges in the warm hot chocolate, eager for you to try a taste yourself.

“Here ya go, sweetheart. Reckon you like hot chocolate.” He smiles, reaching his arm out, offering you a warm mug with swirls of steam billowing out the top.

“Yes.” You extend your arm, palm open with an invitation. And when he slides the cup into your hand, his calloused fingers brush against yours, causing goosebumps to rise on your shivering skin. You gasp, feeling how warm and welcoming his hand feels against yours, but it’s only there a second, the next he’s whisking his arm back to his side. You already miss it—his hand sliding against yours implicitly.

“Put some extra whipped cream and marshmallows in jus’ for you. Know how much you like everything extra sweet.” He gives you a gut-wrenching smile. One that could bring you to your knees. Especially once that dimple forms on the middle of his cheek.

God. What did you ever do to be worthy of looking at that angelic face? Carved to perfection, tanned, smooth like his tousled curls. And his eyes. Big pools of warmth that instantly make my insides all fuzzy and warm.

“Thanks, Joel. You didn’t have to go through all that extra trouble though,” you smile bashfully, still trying to get a grip on this reality.

“‘Course I did. You’re worth the extra mile.”

Your mouth parts at the words. You’re worth the extra mile. Sarah giggles under her breath, but she keeps to herself. But you can’t help but notice her eyes keep roaming from Joel and then back to you. She must see it. See just how much we affect each other. Just one look and you’re melted butter. It just takes one glance from those big brown eyes until you’re nothing but dust in the wind.

“Dad makes the best hot chocolate!” She brags, taking another sip of her steaming hot chocolate. “Don’t for a second let him tell you it’s nothing special.”

But it is special. Every single particle of him is special. How’d you ever get so lucky to be sitting here on his porch, drinking his hot chocolate that he made specially just for you?

“You know,” he drawls. “Thanksgiving’s next Thursday.”

Thanksgiving? How had you forgotten it was Thanksgiving? To be fair, you weren’t really in the mindset to think about holidays. You overlooked Halloween already, what used to be your favorite.

“Already?” you laugh uneasily, afraid he’ll be upset you forgot.

“Sure is,” he chuckles back, but he gives you an encouraging smile, saying you’re just fine.

“Dad makes the best cherry pie you’ve ever tasted! I’m so excited,” Sarah squeals excitedly beside you. “Well, I guess everything he makes is the best, but this is to die for!”

“Oh?” you ask while Joel nods shyly. “What about blueberry pie?”

He tilts his head and looks at you a beat before he says, “I can make that, but only if you help me.”

“You want me to… help you?” you gawk, mouth parted in surprise. You’re not a cook, never really been one in the first place. Do you even remember how to do anything?

No… you really don’t.

He nods as he takes a sip of his warm coffee, brown eyes locked on yours. “Can’t do it without you. Take it or leave it, sweetheart.”

He’s not making this easy, is he?

“Okay,” you break after a beat. “You’ll just have to guide me. I’m not the best at baking.”

“Well, I’ll jus’ have to teach ya then,” he smirks, sending a wink your way and making you blush all over again.

“Perfect,” Sarah giggles, like she knows something we don’t. But she’s been watching us like a hawk; silently tapping her talons and sharpening her ears. Maybe she sees the chemistry swirling between us like the smoky fog hovering over the glassy lake. If she does, the only thing that gives her away is her sneaky smile and bright eyes flicking between us.

He shakes his head and chuckles under his breath while he leans against the wooden porch fence. One elbow propped lazily up on the edge, his other hand flexed around his royal-blue coffee mug. You follow the map of lines on his forehead, memorizing every crevice, every wrinkle like the constellations in the sky.

He catches you staring, which makes you look down, a deep blush burning in your cheeks. But when you look back up, he’s still watching you. Almost like he’s memorizing your face just the same.

Soft. His eyes are so soft. Warm, big, his brown irises full of promises of something. It makes your breathing hitch, makes you a little off center. But yet, he keeps watching like he can’t quite believe you’re there, sitting right in front of him too.

And it stays just like that until Sarah starts up the conversation again. But he still doesn’t take his eyes off you. It’s almost like he’s just as mesmerized as he makes you feel.

You’ve never seen such pretty shades of brown before until you looked up and saw his eyes. You think he lit you up the very moment you became his that night he saved you…

“Joel?” you call, a few minutes later when the only sound is the faint rustle of leaves in the distance.

He turns his head toward you, coffee cup snug in his big hand. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

You hesitate a second, looking from Sarah and then back to Joel. Yes. You think it’s time. “I think… I think I’m ready to talk to Tess.”

His brown eyes light up like Christmas lights, a soft smile splaying across his lips which nearly takes your breath away. And the way he’s looking at you? All soft and warm. Well, you think you’ve just fallen all over. “Why don’t you give her a call this week? I’m sure she’d be happy to get you in soon. In fact, I’ll drive you to your appointment. Whenever you’re ready, you can count on me.”

You can count on me. He’s so reliable, so sweet, so genuinely caring. It makes a smile crack over your lips, makes another wave of warmth rush through your chest, filling you up with sunshine and the hot chocolate he made for you. With extra sugar, you can’t forget that part.

When Sarah congratulates you on taking that step forward, Joel can’t help but to smile even bigger and brighter. He even goes so far as mouthing the words “I’m so proud of you” to you through the air. Even though you didn’t hear them, you swear you can taste them as they simmer through the chilly air, along with his thick Southern drawl.

And just like that, you’re falling through cloudless skies, crashing down to earth. But you don’t have to be afraid anymore of dying because he’ll be right there waiting to catch you.

Later, when Sarah’s gone for the night, you’re wrapped up in your favorite fluffy blanket, knees tucked up underneath you while you silently read under the bright lamp. The fireplace crackles in the corner, making for the perfect night to read in the living room. But this is kind of a ritual now, a normal routine you’ve slipped comfortably into.

And then there’s Joel—the man who completes these relaxing nights. He’s here. Right where you need him. He’s perched on the leather couch, his guitar between his legs, gently taking a rag and dusting off the smooth wood, carefully cleaning each string with rapt attention. It’s a little distracting you think—watching his hands slide over the instrument, oh-so-carefully polishing and refining something that seems like it means the world to him.

To be honest, this is the first time he’s actually taken the acoustic guitar out of the reading room. He’s never really talked about it before. Which means, it’s something he hides deep inside his chest, careful not to show emotion when he glides over the colorful moth that’s etched in the wood. You think it means a great deal to him, whatever it symbolizes.

Putting the book down on your lap, you sit up straighter and muster enough courage to call his name. “Joel?”

He looks up, his brown eyes crinkling in the corners when he focuses on you. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I, umm. I was wondering…” You bite your bottom lip, suddenly nervous as he zeroes in on you, waiting for your question. You muster up enough courage to ask, but you don’t want to overstep. “Would you… Do you think you could play me something?”

His jaw ticks, his lips quiver as he muddles over your big ask. There’s a glimmer in his eye, a faint recognition of something hiding deep behind those brown pools. Uncertainty, maybe. Or was it just sadness?

Grazing the tip of his thumb up one of the strings, he sighs. “Haven’t played in quite some time, sweetheart.” His deep drawl is filled with anguish, and the last thing you want to do is make him sad.

Taking back your ask, you whisk it back in. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… You don’t have to…”

Those words mean more to you than he knows. He’ll try for you. That’s all you can ask for. Putting him in a vulnerable position, and he still wants to try? You don’t think you could be more smitten.

He straightens his back, mulls a little more over what he’s doing, then he’s placing the guitar carefully over his lap, adjusting his arms as he cradles the instrument like it’s the most fragile things he’s ever touched.

You fall silent and watch the way his thick fingers flex, eyebrows thread together, eyes close, lips slowly part. It almost feels like he’s keeping something down—something that’s hurting him, cutting him deep, bleeding him dry. You wish you could sew the wound up, wipe away his invisible scars that only show beneath the surface. You want to take his pain away like he takes yours.

After a silent fist fight in his mind, he slowly places his fingers gently on the taut strings and oh-so-carefully begins to play a steady, melancholy tune. You can feel the weary emotion he wears on his face, can see the hurt lined in his weathered stare, can feel the debilitating pain he wears on his slouched shoulders, can even hear the grieving through the deliberate cords he strums.

You feel the backs of your eyes burn with held-back tears the longer you watch Joel wear his heart on his flanneled sleeve. And as the melancholy tune carries throughout the stifling room, you feel every single emotion he’s ever poured out into that guitar. That special, one-of-a-kind, gem of a guitar. Whatever it means to him, you see it so clearly now, even if you don’t really know what’s got him so torn up. Was it the moth etched to perfection in the wood, or was it the person that gave him that guitar. Or, had he lost someone, too?

When he plays the last note, his jaw goes slack, and he lays the guitar flat on his lap, his thumb slowly tracing the edge of the little moth. Tears well in his big brown eyes, but he doesn’t dare let one fall. He holds them back, like the strong man he is. But strong men are allowed to break too. And right now, you’re fighting every single particle in your body not to tiptoe over and fall into his arms.

Joel deserves that. Someone to take his pain away, lock their arms around his neck and promise him that he’ll be okay. Just like he promised you…

He looks up slowly, steadily, his head still hanging low, but his eyes meet yours for a brief second. It almost kills you to see those big, sappy brown eyes lathered in such sadness. Makes you want to just rush into his arms and never let go.

Who hurt Joel? That’s what you want to know. Who tore his heart from his chest and ripped it in two?

You slowly peel yourself off the couch, leaving your book open, laying face down in the blanket. You silently tiptoe over to him, careful not to disturb his sulking, keeping your eyes glued to the way he’s brushing the pads of his fingers against the scarred strings. He’s got his heart spilled all over them like black ink.

Carefully, you slide in next to him, fully aware you’re about to play Russian roulette in the next few seconds. “That was beautiful. The song you played,” you whisper out, afraid you’ll shatter his glass box that’s cased around him.

He shifts against the leather, dragging his thumb smoothly across the polished wood. A sad smile crosses his lips, but it doesn’t meet his darkened eyes. “I uhh… I wrote that for someone. Someone who meant a lot to me…” The pain in his strained voice is etched in his clenched jaw, his palms a little shaky as he speaks.

You almost reach your hand out for his, but you think better of it. Someone did hurt him. Or maybe, he lost them… “Joel, that’s… that’s…” You can’t even finish your sentence without your own voice cracking. What could you say to that? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

He rasps out a sigh and slumps his broad shoulders a bit more, one hand dragging over his silvery scruff, all the way across his mouth. And his eyes. Still glistening with held-in tears.

Oh, Joel…

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask bravely, clenching your fingers as the words leave your lips.

Sniffling, he murmurs, “Not tonight. Not right, at least.”

You let his words simmer, let them soak into your sweater until you feel it’s safe to respond again. Shifting just a little closer, you brush your fingers just inches away from his hand, enough to where he might be able to feel the warmth coming from your palm. “Joel?”

“Hm?” he hums, his deep bravado echoing around the room.

Your fingers dance closer, just enough to lick flames from your skin. If you were brave enough, you’d thread your fingers through his until he let you take away some of his held-in pain. “You know you can always talk to me, right? About anything.”

He lets out a breath and slowly looks up at you. His eyes are hazy, a little cloudy with the fog from his watery eyes. It makes pain flood inside your chest. You freeze when he brushes his knuckles gently down your cheek, a light touch that means he appreciates you when words surely fail him in this moment. And then there’s the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the center of his gravity, making a tear leak from the corner of your eye. But of course, he wipes it away before you can blink.

“Thank you, sweet girl,” he smiles, letting his thumb trace your jawline before he snaps his hand back to his side. And there you go, wishing his warm palm was still lingering across your skin.

He stares at you for a beat, crystallized brown flecks dancing across your vision, soaking you up like you want to do with his pain. He tilts the guitar against the leather couch and lets his palm drag down it, eyes flicking back and forth from it to you repeatedly. He looks like he wants to tell you something. Maybe the reason he’s hurting?

Please, Joel. Give me your pain.

Once he’s settled his mind, he blinks a couple times and looks at you with hurt-filled eyes. He focuses on a strand of your hair, lets his fingers fall over the silky surface while you hold your breath from the contact. And he fixates on it while his mouth twitches to let the words he really wants to set free out. “The reason I haven’t played in so long is because… Because I…”

You hold your breath, waiting for that something to come tumbling from his lips like an old wound he just won’t let go of. But before he can finish, his phone starts ringing off the hook, deflecting him from the one secret he was about to share with you. The one thing you might’ve been able to remotely help him with.

Pulling his phone free from the front pocket of his denim jeans, he sighs, carding his free hand through his slicked-back curls. You get the faint view of Tommy’s name scrolled across the screen which means it’s probably going to be another late night for Joel. He deserves a break. He works too hard, pushes himself past his limits most nights. He deserves someone to stop the madness for just one single night.

Could you stop it? Press pause on the world for just one night? Just long enough for him to get a decent night’s rest. The dark circles beneath his tired eyes never go unnoticed. He’s got so much weight on his shoulders, so much baggage to pull around. Would he let you take some of that weight off, just for one night?

Groaning, he pushes off the edge of the couch and stands, his thumb hovering over the answer button. “I’ve gotta take this,” he mumbles heavily, dragging all his pent-up frustration and pain right back on his shoulders. But before he clicks the button and walks away, you recklessly reach your arm out and wrap your fingers around his wrist, pulling the thick flannel just enough to get his attention.

Stay, Joel. Don’t go. That’s what you really want to tell him, but you’ve said enough through your rampant movements.

Looking down at your closed hand around his wrist, he lets the phone keep ringing, just stares into your eyes while his big, wide brown irises cross with yours. There’s a hesitation there, a moment in time where everything just stops. It’s just you and him for the second, the flickering embers that crackle like pop rocks in the flames of the fireplace.

Parting his lips in awe, eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, tears pooling in the backs of his irises, you think he might crack right on the spot. But the world begins to spin again, bringing you back to the present where his phone continues to ring and ring and ring repeatedly.

Don’t answer it, Joel. Let it go to voicemail. Stay. Stay with me. But the disappointment bubbles up inside you the moment he clicks the green button to life, letting Tommy’s voice slip through the end of the receiver. “Yeah?” His voice cracks, strains as he swipes at his teary eyes. It makes you crack just the same.

Just when you let a puff of air leave your lips, he fills the empty space by just a smidge. Slowly, carefully, he reaches over and cups the back of your head affectionately, letting his fingers linger in your hair, tangling for just a second as he fights to pull away. He’s talking on the phone, nodding his head and repeating what Tommy says, but his wide eyes are tethered to yours in a wave of emotions tossing through his beautiful brown eyes. He’s said enough in that touch, even as he pulls away. He’s saying thank you, that he appreciates you being here, that he revels in the way you’re trying. He’s trying to let his walls down too. Just enough to let you creep in and slip into the parts he keeps tucked away, afraid to show just how vulnerable he is too.

Taking one more good look at you, he snaps his hand back inside his pocket and disappears around the corner, leaving you alone with the flickering fireplace and solid guitar next to the now empty couch.

You close your eyes and let your head fall back into the cushions, tucking your knees against your chest as you blow out a heavy breath. You were this close to getting a glimpse into his mind. And now? You didn’t know if you’d get that chance again.

Joel… He barely touched you, barely grazed his fingers across your skin. But that last touch? The way he ran his hand down your hair and cupped the back of your head? That was everything all at once. He was everything. Gentle, kind, and so very soft.

You don’t know how long you stay there, but it’s long enough that you’ve faded off to sleep. Long enough that you feel him slip his strong arms around your body and carry you back to bed in the early morning hours of dawn. This time you don’t fight the need to sleep; you just curl into his chest for those few short, blissful seconds, breathing in his woodsy scent until he tucks you safely into bed. And you don’t miss that same brush of knuckles across your cheek before darkness takes a hold of your body. The last thing you remember is hearing his soothing Southern drawl whisper sweet nothings through the air.

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#amyispxnk fave fics

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littlestarbigsky · 3 days ago

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I have a really, really sad request... my grandfather passed away a few months ago. He was the youngest of three boys. His older brother passed away a couple of years ago. Leaving behind only the middle child.

And all I keep thinking of is Soda being the last one alive after Darry and Pony die and it's making me so sad. I want to write it myself, but can't bring myself to. But it's just so heartbreaking.

first of all, i’m so sorry to hear about your grandfather anon, i hope you’re doing alright and that you have the love and support you need🫶🏻

so here’s the thing, i wasn’t sure how i wanted to approach this one, but then one of my coworkers lost her husband on christmas and the memory of grief came so easily.. not gonna lie this one did a number on me but im so glad that you trusted me with this anon❤️‍🩹

it’s not very long but i hope this is okay🩷

when they lost pony, soda didn’t truly internalize the loss until a few weeks after the funeral. darry had been a wreck, catatonic, unable to get out of bed, much less get himself out of the house for anything other than the funeral. soda held it together reasonably well, planning a small funeral for their baby brother and using the money they had stashed away to send him to college to pay their bills for a few weeks while they tried to move through the loss.

it didn’t really hit him until soda was back at work and some kid, probably close to pony’s age, from the high school came in and bought a pepsi. steve came in to the shop half an hour later to find soda on the floor in behind the counter, shaking and sobbing because god damn it his baby brother was gone. steve held him as he cried until he couldn’t breathe, holding him like a lifeline until darry could get there from work to take him home.

“it’s okay, honey, we’re gonna be okay,” darry had said, hugging soda to him in the back seat of the truck while his little brother sobbed.

soda had screamed at him, “nothing’s okay, darry! pony’s gone!”

still, they found a way to keep going. darry slept in soda’s room more often than not. they both had trouble sleeping after losing their brother, and soda needed someone to be near him and darry needed to know that soda was okay.

none of that felt like it mattered anymore, because when it was darry’s turn to go, soda couldn’t take it. he couldn’t leave the house. he couldn’t eat or drink. the grief was all consuming and snapped him clean in two.

darry probably wouldn’t have even had a funeral if it hadn’t been for two-bit and steve, who were maybe two of the worst people in the world to plan something like that, but they knew what had to be done. they had unfortunately helped out with a few too many curtis family funerals over the years that they knew who to invite, where to hold it, to keep the casket closed.

they had to drag soda there on the day, and he stayed attached to steve the entire time. he sobbed all the way through the service, and he couldn’t stop himself from falling to his damn knees when they lowered his big brother into the ground, right next to pony, right next to their parents. it was all wrong, their parents should still have been alive, not buried with two of their sons right next to them.

he wouldn’t leave his room, but he wouldn’t let himself rest. steve had to stay with soda overnight and hold him close just to make sure he slept at all. two-bit heated up the food people had brought and sat with him while he ate just to be sure that it happened. they knew they weren’t his brothers, but they did what they could.

despite how long it took him to pull himself together again, he finally managed to make it back to work. he liked being at work, being around other people, not having to sit and wallow in how deep the wounds felt. it was almost like he could pretend that they were all still there, that he would go home and see his parents and brothers, not a hauntingly empty house.

eventually steve and two-bit moved in with him, they adopted a dog, they found a new normal. it still crushed soda’s soul to have to keep living and hit milestones that his family never would, but he made his peace with it. it was his job to make them proud. and that was worth it.

he was their last hope.

#star is a mess :)#sodapop curtis #ponyboy curtis #darry curtis #the outsiders #the outsiders fic #star’s writing #star answers

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tension4mari · 5 hours ago

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Hii could you write something sweet and fluffy for semi/player380 x fem!reader x min-su/player125? (If you don't wanna write for a three person relationship you can just do semi x reader) Have a good day !! :)

I was grabbing my computer so fast once i saw your request. SO EXCITED TO WRITE THISSSSS

Paring 𖹭 Semi x Fem!reader x min-su

Summary 𖹭 Reader was feeling down so semi and min-su decides to throw her a mini party.ᐟ

𐙚 "Hey, Semi Don't you see Y/n over there sulking?" Min-su whispery yells to Semi while She was peacefully strolling on her phone, looking thru apps.

𐙚"Yeah now that you mention it, she's been looking down ever since this morning, I wonder what's wrong with her?" Semi replies while putting down her phone sitting up straight turning her head to look at Min-su

𐙚"I'm not sure, but I'm going to go check if she's fine." Min-su says back. "Alright" semi says while watching Min-su slowly approach Y/n's figure as she's slumped on the couch watching TV

𐙚"Yn??, Are you okay? Me and Semi are worried about you, you've been acting depressed since this morning..." "Mm 'fine, don't worry" you murmured under your breath slumping even more into the couch.

𐙚 "Well it doesn't seem like it... Tell us what's wrong y/n" "ugh Min-su i just told you that I'm fine. Stop worrying about me. IM going to go take a nap.

𐙚Yn slowly retreats to their shared bedroom Semi shoots Min-su a glare and ask's what was all that about

"She just wouldn't tell me what was wrong?" Min-su says quietly to Semi. "Well now we know somethings up for sure... Man, I wish she would just tell us"

𐙚 "...." "Hey Min-su, Let's do something fun for her. Cleary she's had a bad day. Let's cheer her up" Semi spills "Smart thinking Semi! Yeah, let's do something for Y/n!"

𐙚"Let's head over to the store and get the stuff" Semi say's "Aright"

𐙚Semi and Min-su were now at the store looking for little part supplies for yn's little special party "Hey Semi I've gotten all the stuff we need" Min-su says "Yeah same here, Let's go check out, we needed get home before yn wakes back up."

𐙚Semi and Min-su head back home and quietly opens the front door putting all the bags on the table, carefully to not alarm or wake you up in the process of them decorating the living room. They start decorating by getting small ballons and blowing them up to put on the floor of the living room. They then start putting all of the snacks they have bought onto the living room table.

𐙚"Min-su go get some blankets so we can put them on the couch, We can all watch a movie together once she finally wakes up " Semi goes to the kicthen to get more decoration to hang up.

𐙚Finally done with everything al they had to do was wait for y/n to wake up from her peaceful slumber. "I think I'm going to die, she's been asleep for so long" "Min-su stop being inpatient. You know yn hates that. Just as Semi says something yn walks in the living room.

𐙚 What's all this guys? Did you guys have a party and not invite me? seriously so rude. WTH!!!" "No no no no yn you got it all wrong me and Semi did all this for you!" "Right, we have been waiting 3 hours for you to get up, Min-su almost died just sitting around for so long!" Semi says

𐙚 "WHATTT??? Thats so sweet of you guys. I'm going to cry." "Yeah, Me and Semi wanted to do something about your mood you've had earlier, we hope you like it... "LIKE IT?? I LOVE ITT!" "Thats great to hear , speaking from the fact i spent 200$ for all of this. semi whispers under her breath . "Hm? what did you say Semi? i didn't hear you. "I didn't say anything" Semi says while shoving her hands in her pockets and getting up to show yn all the snacks on the table. "So many options of snacks! you guys went all out! "Yeah heh, we didn't know what you were in the mood for, so we got a bit of everything! "Omg you guys are the best! This honestly makes up from the shitty morning I've had" Y/n speaks

𐙚"Were happy you love everything we did for you tonight, let's enjoy it before the night is over" Min-su says while walking towards the couch and clicking on a tv show to binge watch the entire night "I'm sorry i made a fuss earlier, speaking like that... I don't know what i was thinking. It was rude for me to do that. "Hey...it's alright, we knew you wasn't feeling too good, we are just glad you like what we did for you" Semi says "Yeah, she's right yn, its ok we just want you to feel better. "You both are the best, I love you guys.! " "We love you back" both Min-su and Semi says together.

Im sorry if its bad. It seems very demoted of emotion! I WILL WORK ON THATTT

Also! Thank you very anonymous person who requested that for me <333

I'm really tired now.(it's 9am)

#squid game x reader #player 125 #player 380 #semi x reader #tumbler fyp #fluff #request

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pisshandkerchief · 17 hours ago

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Okay tysm I know nothing about this stuff but I’d love to hear about it. I feel like because the movie was really unengaged with the actual politics in folk music at the time and it made it really unclear how much Bob Dylan himself was engaged in the politics so I’m wondering 1 how political he was in the first place and 2 if his political engagement changed when he moved away from folk music because they definitely acted like playing electric guitar meant not doing political stuff anymore but also acted like he just liked the music more/ wanted to be disruptive so did his politics change? Was the story of the movie really ‘Bob Dylan stops caring about civil rights because he gets into the kinks yay’ because that definitely doesn’t sound right but all the politics were so vague and surface level that the political side of people’s motivations felt really unclear

rubs my hands together in a delighted fashion. ok this is a question I can actually somewhat answer for you so let's get into it.

No, his politics didn't change because he moved away from folk music. there's two things it's important for you to know: one, Bob Dylan didn't start with folk music. He was into early rock and rhythm and blues first. this guy wasn't listening to Woody Guthrie from day one, he was listening to Elvis and Muddy Waters and Buddy Holly and Little Richard and Lead Belly. He only came to folk music later, which people at the time tended to forget about. Rock was his true passion at the start. Two, Bob Dylan never identified himself as a political song writer. He always said he didn't write about politics, he wrote about his own core values and the things he saw in the world. I'm watching a documentary about him rn called No Direction Home, and in it he says something along the lines of "you can care about a group of people without making it a political thing". I love his music and it's influenced me a lot, and I think he's a fascinating person, but I'm not a huge fan of Bob Dylan's politics myself, because I think he's always been a bit wishy-washy about what he actually believes. I understand why people were mad at the time, because he wrote all these moving songs about the civil rights movement and then when confronted about them later he always hedged and claimed he wasn't trying to be political even though at the time he clearly was. I think he's more of a liberal than a true leftist. There were real leftists in the folk revival, and they were people like Phil Ochs. In the end Bob really was in it because he wanted to be famous. I think he believed deeply in the civil rights movement because he admired a lot of black artists and truly thought that racism was nonsensical, but beyond the surface level he wasn't an activist and he never tried to present himself as one, he had that role forced upon him by people who saw him as one and wanted him to be the face of a generation and he was always very opposed to that idea, and eventually it made him cynical. I suppose his political engagement did change when he moved away from folk, because he did stop writing as many overtly political songs, but not immediately and not as drastically as people made it out to be. Bob Dylan is a complicated person who a lot of people tried to box into being one thing or the other and in the end all he really wanted was to get out of those boxes. It's difficult to know what was going on in his head because for years he was a very private person who very intentionally worked to make sure nobody knew his true thoughts on anything.

To put it simply, yes, when he went electric he stopped writing music that people could see as overtly political. But I don't think his beliefs changed. I think it's an early case of people having a parasocial relationship with their favorite celebrity and painting him as more leftist than he really was. He wasn't a political activist, he was a performer. And he never pretended to be anything else.

#continued in the reblog

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hazeystar · 21 hours ago

Text

i'm broken (tell you i'm fine)

Now I'm begging you to come and pull me out the fire Come and save me, like you did when we were young Oh please, come bring me up from my lowest, take me higher Can you see me through the ashes and the smoke?

Two weeks after the breakup, Buck misses Tommy. He also loves him, did you know?

welcome to my first fic to this fandom because i hold buck and tommy close to my heart and have many ideas for them now

below the break and also on ao3

He couldn’t have been older than ten when they first met.

He had fallen off his bike. Or maybe he jumped. Maybe he just didn’t stop himself from falling.

Either way he was on the ground, his bike somewhere around him. He was just going down the sidewalk, saw an uneven crack and thought nothing (or maybe he thought “What the hell?” and sped up just a tiny bit more).

“Hey! You alright?” There was a voice calling, and he sat up carefully, wincing as he pressed his hands back into the concrete. He definitely scraped them up.

He was blinking away the sun, when a body came in front of him, standing with a bike next to him. “This your bike?”

It was his bike. There was a boy holding it up, looking down at him with a concerned expression.

Oh. He still hadn’t said anything. “Ye—yeah, it’s mine.”

The boy nodded, setting it down next to them before crouching down. He was older than him, that much was evident, just by his voice. “You’ve scratched up your hands pretty bad.”

He looked down at the offending body parts, nodding slowly. “Looks like it.”

The older boy was silent for a couple beats before standing up. The boy on the ground only stared, following the movement. “I’ll be right back.”

He could only nod, watch the other boy stride down the sidewalk and reappear a few moments later, this time with a first aid kit in hand.

The older boy resumed his spot in front of him, opening the kit and holding out a hand.

He sat there, his own hands still on the ground, occasionally sparking with pain.

“Your hand, kid.” The boy gestured again, and he finally moved, placing his hand in the other boy’s. He felt a shiver run through his body when the back of his hand hit his palm. It wasn’t bad by any means. It felt warm, and soft, like coming home.

Slowly, the older boy dusted off the gravel on his hand, swiping an alcohol wipe over his palm before placing Band-Aids on the worst of the cuts. He set his hand down gently, picked up the other one and repeating the process.

“There you go.”

“Thanks.” He finally spoke again, and watched the other boy stand up and close the first-aid kit.

“Try not to get thrown off your bike again,” he chuckled before giving a small wave and walking back to wherever he came from.

He picked his bike back up, staring at it for a moment, his eyes moving towards the chunk of sidewalk that took him out.

He walked the bike over it, making sure to clear the crack before getting back on and biking back home.

Buck was crying again.

It was two weeks after Tommy had walked out of his loft, and subsequently his life.

He’s now an owner of a KitchenAid stand mixer and probably getting close to being banned from three different grocery stores on account of how much flour and sugar he’s been buying.

He’s working and when he isn’t working, he’s been baking. Trying to keep his mind off Tommy.

But now, the red velvet cupcakes are baking in the oven, there’s red food dye drying on the counter that he can’t be bothered to take care of, and Buck is sitting against his island, tears running down his face as he stares at his phone, trying to write a text message.

He got pretty far this time, some ramble trying to explain himself that filled almost half the screen (it was impressive he managed to type that much with all the water on his phone).

How did this happen? It was going so well, six months together and it was wonderful. It was everything he wanted and more. And then he had nothing.

Well, he had the red velvet cupcakes. That he didn’t even realise he’d started baking until he was pouring in red food dye.

They were Tommy’s favourite.

So, the loft smelled like red velvet, the food dye on the counter probably looked a little too close to blood, and Buck was crying because he missed Tommy so much. Why did he leave him? Didn’t he know he loves him, that he-

Oh.

Did Tommy even know that Buck loves him?

The only sound heard was the sobs Buck was trying to choke back as his mind ran a thousand miles an hour. Did he ever tell Tommy he loves him? Did he ask him to move in and didn’t even say he loves him?

Before he knew it, the text he was still drafting was forgotten as he tapped through his phone, bringing it up to his ear once it started ringing.

It only took two rings, then “Ev- Fuck, Buck?”

He was silent, his breathing hitching with a sob with every breath. He didn’t think this far, he hasn’t heard his voice in two weeks-

“Evan?” Came Tommy’s voice again, and shit, he still hadn’t said anything, has he?

“Tommy,” he breathed out. I love you, did you know that? I really, really lov-

“Evan, are you alright? Where are you?”

“Loft. I-” This time a sob escaped, and he couldn’t stop it, it was all too much. His loft smelled like red velvet, and he was hearing Tommy’s voice, and he just wants him here.

“I’m coming over, okay? Don’t hang up, baby, I’ll be over there soon.”

He nodded, then realise he wouldn’t see that. “Okay.”

They sat in silence, broken up only by Buck’s choked back sobs or the occasional car passing Tommy as he drove.

He didn’t know how much time passed, but a timer went off on his phone, and like he was on autopilot, he stood up and pulled the tray of cupcakes out of the oven. He set them on top of the stove, staring at red cakes. There was cream cheese frosting he’d made on the counter, but they still needed to cool, and he'd have to get a piping bag out so he could make them look like the ones they used to get at the bakery near Harbor.

He let out another sob at the memory, sliding back down to the floor. The phone was in front of him, having put it on speaker long ago when he needed another hand to cry into.

“Ev, baby?” Tommy sounded worried and it made Buck cry harder. He missed Tommy worrying over him, being with him, hugging him, kissing him.

“I miss you.”

A sigh, or maybe just an exhale. Then, “I miss you too, sweetheart.”

He cried again. He missed him too. That’s good, that’s good, that means he can still fix this.

“Pulling into the parking lot.”

“Th- Door’s unlocked.” He’d gone out earlier to dump some trash, a great deal of flour bags. He’d forgotten about the door until just then.

“Okay. I’ll be up soon.”

It was quiet again, then the sound of a truck door being slammed. Buck didn’t move from his spot, not even when he heard the door to his loft open at the same time the call disconnected.

“Evan?” And there was his voice, in person. He was here.

“Down here,” he called out, hearing footsteps and then he was in front of him. He knelt down, two fingers hooking under his chin to get Buck to meet his eyes and he felt time stop when he saw Tommy’s face again.

He looked tired, and sad. There was scruff around his chin, his hair was curly in a way that made Buck want to bury his hands in it. His eyes were the same blue, but there were read rims around them. Had he been crying too?

“Are you okay?”

Buck nodded, and then he was scrambling up, throwing his arms around Tommy’s neck and wrapping around him. Tommy sat back properly on the ground as Buck straddled him, arms going around Buck like second nature.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he soothed, arms tightening just a little bit more. Buck whimpered; his head tucked into the crook of his neck as he breathed in Tommy.

“I missed you.” A beat. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, it’s okay.”

But he needed him to know. He pulled away from his neck, not quite leaving his hold but needing to look him in the eyes. “No. I’m sorry. I should have said it better, or maybe I shouldn’t have said anything at all, but I look at you and I just want it to be perfect because you deserve it. You deserve it to be perfect and I don’t know how to do it right. You mean everything to me, and I want you to be around all the time and I- I get it if you don’t think I’m worth it right now, I get it, I do, I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I just, I miss you and I hate not being with you and I’ve been crying because I miss you and I love you and I just- I need you to know that, okay. Pleas-”

He didn’t register Tommy’s breath hitching when he heard him say it, but he definitely registered his lips on his, effectively ending his ramble.

And Buck melted into it. It’s been so long and also not long ago that he had kissed him, but still it felt like that first time. He felt like he was coming home.

“Evan,” Tommy said when he pulled away, his voice wrecked. “I love you too.”

It sent another wave of tears through him, but this time Tommy was crying with him, brushing a few of the tears away. “I love you.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He kissed his birthmark, cradling Buck’s cheek in his hand. “And baby, there’s nothing to forgive. You’re worth everything, Evan, a thousand times over.”

Buck started shaking his head and then Tommy’s thumb was gently pushing against his lips, shushing him before he could even start talking again. “Yeah, you could have said it better, I mean, Evan, I own a house, you live in a loft. I’m sorry too. I should have handled it better too. I shouldn’t have just spiraled, freaked out and left you.” His eyes softened. “I love you. I do. It doesn’t need to be perfect; I don’t need perfect; I just want you.”

He nodded and for the first time since he entered his loft, Tommy smiled. Buck smiled as well.

They were long overdue for a discussion on their last conversation that night. Tommy would go over his fears from past relationships, Buck would explain his thought process, and they would talk for hours about it all. About the last two weeks and six months and where that left them now.

They would start with keys to each other’s places. When Buck’s lease was closer to running out, they’d start the conversation again about moving in together, this time properly, without any freakouts and breakups.

But for right now, they’d sit on the floor in Buck’s kitchen, holding each other for the first time in two weeks. They’d hold each other and cry out their tears, and then Buck would drag them up to frost the cupcakes. They’d eat them on the kitchen counter and then fall into bed together, Buck tucked into Tommy’s arms. They’d both get the first good night’s sleep in two weeks, and they’d wake up in the morning knowing things weren’t perfect, but they weren’t as broken any more.

It didn’t need to be perfect as long as they had each other, so the rest was going to be easy.

#911 abc #tevan #tevan fic #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #they are my everything

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witherby · 1 day ago

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Omg hi!!! I love your mer!reader series and I was wondering if you take request? If so could you do batfamily headcanons in squid game? (You don't have to of course.) I just finished season 2 and im really excited for season 3.

Love you and keep writing❤️

Hi there! I can sure try!!! I only ever saw season 1 and that was like two years ago but I'll do my best!

( This is operating off the assumption that they are not all in the game together, otherwise they'd all make it out very easily. )

BRUCE WAYNE:

He's killing it. Not literally — moral code and all — but he's crushing this competition. Bruce Wayne's picture is in the dictionary when you look up "Strategist." He got into the games voluntarily and he will get back out alive, no question. He's doing what he can to help other players survive, but he didn't go in as Batman so he doesn't have any of the gear to help as effectively as he could've. He's gotta play it creatively and in a way that doesn't get him or anybody else disqualified for cheating. It doesn't take long for him to find any loop holes in game rules that allow for multiple people to get out of it alive.

Bruce entered the games, not for money, but to find out who is behind them and bring them to justice, so that no other financially disparaged people have to consider putting their lives on the line in order to clear their debts and start fresh.

DICK GRAYSON:

I feel like he didn't end up here on purpose. I really think he either signed up for something and thought it was a silly lil competition, or that the organizers of the game kidnapped the wrong guy and Dick just went with it because he had nothing better to do. Either way, he's here, he's intrigued, and he's gonna save everybody he can while keeping your spirits up.

The jokes never stop. He never stops. Motormouth is what the other contestants end up calling him. Dick makes one of the masked guards snicker once before they get whisked away, and that does make him feel quite a bit bad. Dick's not immediately looking to destroy the system from the inside out (he'll come back and do that after the games are over). Instead, I think his goal would be to convince all the surviving players that they should vote to end the games and go back home. He'd try to be their voice of reason, to convince them that there are better ways to pick themselves up and rebuild their lives than risking death just to get some fast cash. And I think it works.

TIM DRAKE:

Tim is the opposite of Dick. He was not invited to play but he did deliberately steal another contestant's spot to get put into the game. Like Bruce, he's already out-logic'd most of the competitions to create the most amount of survivors, but he also came prepared. The deadliest competitions are suddenly sabotaged not to be as deadly, or not to work at all. Hidden weapons being offered to other players to start a riot and dwindle the numbers have all suddenly been replaced with soft foam bats and nerf guns.

He already knows who's behind the whole thing, he just needed an in so he could tear it all down quickly and cleanly. When Tim is done, he'll be missing for 48 hours at the absolute max, and leaving that place with justice done and a huge, smug smirk on his face. What, like it was hard?

DAMIAN WAYNE:

Damian is tough. I think he caught wind of the whole operation and went undercover as one of those masked game monitors/referees so he could also dismantle it from within, but with less computer hacking and sabotage, and more slashing. I think this method works best as early Damian, who has barely been introduced to his dad for like a week, before he just drops off the face of the planet for a couple days and comes back blood-soaked.

"Hello, father. That suspicious money scheme you had your eyes on? I solved the problem. What do you mean, what am I covered in? Would you believe me if I told you it was ketchup? By the way, your No Killing rule is stupid."

JASON TODD:

Post-resurrection, he's not doing anything with any subtlety. At least Damian took the time to work his way in with a disguise. Red Hood is finding out where the whole shindig is taking place, gathering a crew, kicking doors down, and setting it ablaze. He doesn't have time for games, and the longer he waits to act the more innocent people are dying. He shoots the giant money ball down and lets the players collect it freely, tells them how to leave, and peaces out without looking back. In and out, job done, on to the next one.

#batfam headcanons #squid game #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne

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anisangeldust · 1 day ago

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Worship this love 𝜗𝜚⋆

Summary: Coriolanus can’t seem to stop winning, of course he has to make sure you’ll never leave..

Part: ← iv

Warnings: misogyny, cheating, death (poison), coriolanus’ fucked up mind, descriptions of a dead body, mentions of blood, smut (p in v), baby trapping, dubcon, semi forced pregnancy? Minor threats.

A/N: DDDNE, please don't read if any of the warnings make you uncomfortable. Your internet consumption is not my responsibility. happy new year!! Sorry this took me so long. This series gave me terrible writers block for some reason ENJOY!!

“I should that bitch an Avox, maybe then she’ll learn to behave” Coriolanus chuckled as you sat on his lap, one hand on your waist and the other cradling a glass of neat whisky.

That warned him a playful smack to his chest “Coryo!” You scolded. Classic. Despite how much Livia did to anger, hurt, and even injure you, you never wished ill upon her. It was one of the many reasons, Coriolanus thought, that she’d never be on your level. She would never be as genuinely pure.

“Dove, I’m going to get rid of her” one of his hands toyed with the ruffles of your uniform “you know that, and it’s not your fault.” His voice cooed sweetly.

A gentle sigh left your chest “I know.. I just” you look into his piercing gaze, the adoration bubbling in his crystalline pupils was almost tangible as he watched you speak. “I don’t know.. I just hate to waste a life like that-“

“Her existence is a waste of life.” Coriolanus cut in sharply, setting down his drink and holding your face in both hands “my sweet, baby dove. It’s my choice that Livias life is going to end. Don’t feel guilty. She’s trying to hurt you. And that’s not okay.” He murmurs and pecks your lips, a gesture you happily reciprocate.

“Okay..” you nod and smirk gently. Climbing off his lap to resume cleaning.

“Good girl” the president praises and pats your bottom. Ever since you two first started sleeping together, you’d made sure to put on a little show of wiggling your hips with every swipe of a duster, bend down unnecessarily, or accidentally forget to wear a bra so your perky nipples were visible through the uniform fabric. All of which earned you a spanking or rough fuck.

You both loved every second of both.

——

“President snow. Your berries and root.” A hired, non avox worker set them down in his office under strict orders. Coriolanus could almost smell the enticing aroma from here, yet they seemed to simultaneously irritate his nose..

The president gave a curt nod “thank you” he stated before waving his hand to order the worker away.

An avox came in a small bit later, their hands gloved with a cage gripped tight between their fingers.

The avox set the cage down and uncovered it, revealing a plump and skittering rat, the perfect test subject for the level of poison in the berries.

Coriolanus stood up and leaned against his desk, nodding to gesture for the avox to begin. Taking a single berry, the worker sets it in the cage of the rat, letting the rodent sniff around for it.

It doesn’t take long for the animal to eat the poisoned nightshade. And it took even less time for the creature to start flailing and then stop breathing, laying dead in the confines of the cage.

A smile played at the edges of Coriolanus’ mouth “good.. very good” he nods and grabs a sticky note, writing down instructions to the chefs on making the berries into a pastry, and the hemlock into tea.

“Give this to the chefs. Let it fall into the wrong hands and I’ll have your head” The young president hands the basket and the note to the avox. “And get rid of the rat” he scoffs.

——

Coriolanus observed the head chef very carefully as he reduced the berries into a jam and steeped the hemlock root and stems into Livias daily chamomile tea.

The poisonous jam was then pipped onto some pre-made croissants, so inconspicuous, ready for consumption.

Just as Coriolanus moved to leave, you come up behind him “is that what you’re doing with the nightlock?” You giggle and kiss his shoulder.

“Nightlock?” He looks down at you and takes your chin with two fingers.

You nod “yeah. Deadly nightshade? Hemlock? Nightlock. It felt appropriate” you giggle.

Coriolanus shakes his head and smiles “you’re too cute” he chuckles and pecks your lips, murmuring against the affectionate exchange— “I don’t want you to see Livia die. Stay in my office” he coos.

You nod obediently and nuzzle his cheek “m’kay”

“Good girl” he murmurs and moves his hand to playfully squeeze your rear. Your doe eyes gaze making his trousers feel a touch too tight.

——

The morning air of the Capitol felt a little too thick, whether it was the wight of his own decisions, or the constant pressure of Livias presence, something or someone was always crowding Coriolanus. Though he knew subconsciously that the minute her pulse stopped, the smoke would part.

You were his only respirator, the constant air tank in the fog. As much as he tried to convince himself that love was pointless to him, he would be reminded that he loved you. And oh he loved you. Your fluffy hair and happy attitude was the sunshine cutting through his dark days.

That’s what kept him going as he climbed into bed that night, mentally preparing to have to deal with the press, how he was broken over Livias death, and how he was trying his best to help her sudden illness, but in the end it won.

He was torn from his thoughts by the devil herself voice “Coriolanus?” Her body was next to his before he could respond.

“What?” He sighed and looked over at her, his eyes dark and cold, the opposite of his gaze when he looked at you, even she knew that.

“C’mon! Don’t be like that. Our wedding is soon—“ that almost made Coriolanus puke in his mouth “—and we are going to be expected to have an heir. So we could at least practice?” She giggles. Coriolanus had to hide his grossed out scowl “mhm. How about tomorrow night? I’ll be all yours okay?” He looked over his shoulder and Livia nods “Okay!” She giggles and turns over “oh, and once we’re married I want to discuss some staff with you”

By “some staff” he knew she meant you, but he chose not to comment on it, he knew she wouldn’t live to see their wedding. Whether it was the berries the next morning or blunt force was unknown, but she wouldn’t make it.

——

You sat in Coriolanus’ office, snug in his chair with a book and the promise that he’d be back soon. “I don’t want you to see it” he murmurs and kisses your head “it’ll be over quickly, then I’ll be all yours” he tries to soothe the guilty feeling he can tell is brewing in your gut.

“Okay.. I love you” you murmur and he chuckles “I love you too, little dove.” And with that, he leaves and locks the door.

At the dining table, Livia was sitting and waiting for tea and breakfast. Coriolanus sat down and started to sip his coffee, nothing out of the ordinary for them.

The avoxes set down breakfast, pouring Livias tea, and then yours. Making sure to switch the teapots.

“Mmm. I haven’t had pastries in a while” she giggles and takes a bite “what’s in here? Jam? It’s very good” she smiles and takes another bite.

Coriolanus lets out a genuine smile to Livia for the first time ever, though it’s for different reasons than she might think. “It’s a new berry the gardener planted. I figured you’d like it.” He smirks.

She washes the pastry down with the tea “mm, it was delicious” she coughs “the tea is quite bitter though. I guess it was a bad batch” she shrugs.

“Probably. Sometimes the leaves get weird” he nods in agreement, though his eyes were trained on her face, he almost felt disgusted for paying so much attention to her, but he couldn’t let her live.

It only took a few moments before she started having a coughing fit, pouring herself more of the bitter (hemlock) tea and drying to ease the soreness, but it only made it worse. “Coryo..?” She wheezed out and gestured to her throat “water..” her voice was scratchy, he could tell her throat was closing.

“Hmm? Oh my. Yes, I’ll be back” he feigns concern and gets up, taking his time to get her water.m he comes back to Livia wheezing and gesturing for him to come quickly. Coriolanus hands her the water, which is quickly guzzled and then spat out as she starts to convulse.

“I can’t.. —it.. Coryo?” She whines and tries to stand up, only to collapse on the floor.

Coriolanus can’t help but giggle as the staff all stand and do nothing, even though he knew they all disliked her; (also they were all threatened into silence) but the amount of apathy was almost satisfying.

He leans down as she started to grip at her neck, her lips turning blue “pity really, you had so much potential.” The president shakes his head and sits back down, continuing to eat his breakfast, showing Livia in her last moments that he never really did care about her anyway.

After a moment, her body laid still, a small pool of blood tricking down from the edge of her mouth. Another minute passed before a daring avox reached out to check her pulse, looked over at the nonchalant president and nodding.

“Dead?” Coriolanus asks a different worker, who promptly checks herself and confirms.

“Dead.”

The instant euphoria the President felt was almost orgasmic. She was dead. He never had to deal with Livia ever again.. nothing was between you two now..

Daring to look ate her corpse, Coriolanus was met with glazed over eyes and blood trailing from her mouth and nose. She was dead, and he had never been happier.

——

The doors of his office opened quickly, Coriolanus raced in and scooped you up, capturing your face in a searing kiss. “Dove..” he murmurs and starts to walk, out of the office and up stairs, kicking open their his room door.

He sets you down on his beautifully plush bed and starts to tear off your clothes. Your giggles filling the room “so I’m assuming she’s gone?” You murmur and he nods “you’re mine..”

He had crazy eyes, the kind that made you want to simultaneously run away and open your legs, of course you chose the latter. Coriolanus didn’t even bother taking off your underwear, he just ripped a hole right over the wet skin of your cunny.

“Oh fuck babygirl..” he sinks a finger in your tight pussy and growls “I’m gonna breed you..” his voice is low and dark. His hands move off you momentarily so he can undo his pants, allowing both his pants and boxers to fall so his semi-hard length can hang out.

Your eyes roll back “please do daddy” you nod and spread your legs further, allowing him better access to your slick folds.

Today wasn’t a day for foreplay, maybe another, perhaps a day when his ex fiancée wasn’t laying dead in the dining room would be better? No matter, he needed you. And Coriolanus was a taker, so took you he did.

His hard length slid into your juicy pussy, becoming enveloped in your tight heat. The feeling causing both you and the president to moan out loud. “Oh.. mmm— daddy! Yes!” You cry out as he starts to piston his cock into you, the length bullying its way into your cunt.

“Fuck— you’re— always so— tight… no matter how much I fuck you..” he growls and keeps moving, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he holds your legs against your chest. “Gonna breed this— greedy hole..” he croaks and moves a hand to rub your swollen clit.

You let out a gasp and squeal before nodding “please—! Let me come! Breed me!” You beg breathlessly

“Yeah? You’d— fuck— you’d like that huh? Being my bitch? Having me stuff you full of my children?” He grunts before thrusting one more time and spilling his cum into your womb.

His fingers work over your nub until you cum, your pussy clenching Coriolanus’ cock, the import of his release visable in your abdomen “yesyesyesyesyes!” You scream out before gasping for breath, the force of your orgasm almost too much.

The President lays down and pulls you flush against him, breathing in your scent while his hand moves against your belly “gonna pump you full, soon this belly will be plump with my heir”. He breathes the promise,

you look at him with both want and trepidation “what about the press? What will they think?” You murmur and he lets out a hearty chuckle.

“You know what Dove? I don’t give a single fuck. I want you barefoot and fucking pregnant with my seed. You aren’t leaving me. And I’ll never let you go.” While it seemed sweet, you could taste the underlying threat in his words, you try to leave and you suffer Livias same fate.

“I won’t leave, I promise” you murmur and kiss him.

He beams. “Good girl. Now. Let’s get you into something more fitting for a future First Lady.”

Taglist!

@daenerysqueenofhearts @caramelandvenus @yoursrosie @wearemadeofstardust0 @kay-lla @mrsriddlenott @sleekervae @ianales @qoopeeya @arzua10 @matcha-muses @jitsuki12 @nojeicintjzonfhw @poppyflower-22 @lustforrush @jefferson-in-the-tardis @aurabambi @royal-sunflower @rovckwells @rubys-rere @iydImsydxoxo @nyxxoxo @lucyisdoingfine @paradisepoisons @miserableblood @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @sqct @tmblrsexyw0man

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