#they give me so much hope and inspire me to do better

[bubblegumgothglados]

Can I admit something? Your ‘going back in time and kidnapping you as a baby’ story is stuck in my head. I keep thinking about Laika’s “I would have raised you better” story as well. Your and others’ writing like that hasn’t so much changed how I think, more just given me words to think about a feeling with.

Every time my girlfriend talks about her parents yelling at her, treating her like a piece of property despite being her own adult. Acting like shes a child and doesn’t know how to think for herself. It infuriates me.

It infuriates me. I want to steal her away. I want to take her away and treat her right, give her the independence and emotional safety her parents denied her. I want to see her blossom into her own beautiful person, free of the self doubt that was so deeply drilled into her head.

But I can’t tell her this. I told her that I wouldn’t hate on her parents. I can’t imagine telling her that I wish I could kidnap her as a baby. That I want to take her away at all. I can’t force her to come across the country into my care. So I bottle it up until I want to cry. I clench my teeth and I smile and tell her I’m there for her, that I’d do anything for her if she asked.

I hope this makes sense. Thank you for your writing and your kindness.

My "kidnapping you as a baby" writing is directly inspired by Lakia's "I would have raised you better", I'm glad someone read them both and had them both resonate together

I absolutely understand what you're feeling and I commiserate, I have every faith that one day you will get to rescue her and see her blossom. Have strength, be patient, love her the way she needs you to, and you'll get there together

[starpoweredv1b]

HIIII!!!! This is muscle mommy anon rawr. Thank you for answering my ask <333

Anywaysss, my grandma forcefed me rotten eggs so I lack the motivation for 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 seggs and I don't feel so well but the thought of missing class makes ke wanna kms

SPEAKING OF CLASS! Erm, imagine the LLs as teachers and you're just a student with so much troublemaker tendencies yet 0 social skills so the teachers helped them when they're too shy to ask for help from other students! Tampons/pads, bandages, painkillers, hoodies, etc etc.

You view them as father figures but they view you as their little girlfriend. Their cute cute miniscule little girlfriend who needs to be pampered and locked up in a nice pastel pink cage with all the soft pillows your scoliosis needs <3

I noticed you loveee fwb aus so let me propose you one!! What if, instead of living for centuries, the LLs died and reincarnated over and over again just to fulfill a promise with the original MC. We met one of them and is in a relationship with them on their 1st reincarnation, and they promised us that they'll be lovers again in the next one. But the LLs only remember the ogMC on the 2nd reincarnation and forward. Currently, we're still chasing after them, but since they're pursuing MC, we can only be their fwb until MC finally got together with them (do whatever u want w/ this prompt tbh teehee)

At first I was going to erm, send an ask about MC applying lip gloss so slowly it's almost sensual but that's boring so have these!!! Maybe you'll gain inspiration mwah

xoxo, not-freaky-anon<3

hi not-freaky-anon!! your muscle mommy ask was a banger i loved it to bits ♡ also so sorry to hear that you're still unwell hope you feel better soon and that rotten eggs will never cross your path ever again. also why, grandma?? 😭hope catching up with classes go smoothly for you! love you and you got this 🫶 thank you so much for the ask and don't be afraid to send anything at all the lipgloss sounds hot 🫠

you read my mind for the fwb thing. i actually adore this trope so bad like nobody gets it!! i love fwb aus with angst and yearning and drama!!! this is definitely on my list of to-writes for the lads boys 🙂‍↕️

the first half of this being heavyyyyyy on corruption kink and daddy issues is so yum? like i lovedddd this so much. i think the LI's viewing them as their little girlfriend is so hot like can you imagine them using how close you stood to them, or the way your clothes ride up when you stretch a little too comfortably, as jerk off material when they're alone.

fisting their cocks hard and fast, wishing it was your hand instead. or your pretty tongue and tight throat stretching to accommodate them because let's face it, they are the closest thing you're gonna get to an experience with a real man. so deluded by their own fantasies that when you actually look weirded out by their confession, they had no choice but to put you in a cage of your favourite colour!! fully accessorised and customised to your comfort and liking of course.

you're troubled because nobody had ever cared enough to stick around and give you the love that you need. so why not just give in? you can say no or be as hesitant as you want but as soon as you get cock drunk, begging them to thrust harder into your deliciously tight squelchy walls, they'd feel reassured that this was what you've always wanted too. always too shy to ask for more when you deserve nothing less than the world on a platter :(

[solarsavoy]

Sure, I'll share. I've got a couple of approaches for this, a fandom list, and an original work list. I have surprisingly few ships that are important to me, actually, but I should have enough.

Fandom list:

Karmagisa, from Assassination Classroom: my first and one true ship. I love both the chaos and stability they represent, leaning towards chaos. These characters definitely represent me in different ways, and seeing them matched together, in a way, makes me feel whole. I am a highly intelligent loner with no family at home, hung out in the back of the class by myself when I was in school, and played videogames all the time instead of actually trying. I'm also perceived as super sweet and friendly with people, suffer from incredibly low self-esteem, and show a little bit of my surprisingly dark and twisted side every now and then. I didn't know this when I first jumped on the Karmagisa ship, and then later even learned what a ship was, but the more time I spend with it, the more of myself I discover. So really, I think this is the only ship that represents me quite perfectly, but I will list others anyway because they still matter, just not in the same way.

"SakuSyao", from Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles: Even though this was technically chronologically my first ship, I didn't know what a ship was at the time and simply liked them together. For this one, the story matters much more to me than the ship, but I can't say I don't love them together. ^^ (The quotes are intentional, for those that know the story. Warning: if you look up what they're for, you'll spoil yourself on a big part of the story.)

Karushuu, from Assassination Classroom, with a focus on Shuu: so this one's a little weird in concept. I ship Shuu with Karma, but don't necessarily ship Karma with Shuu. I think Shuu needs a little more chaos in his life in order to grow as a person, and Karma is the perfect one to inspire that. I go back and forth on whether or not I want Shuu to be ace or aroace or other, but regardless, I see Karushuu as a necessary ship for Shuu. I admit, I have a lot of well developed, personal headcanons for him, and because of those headcanons, Karma is the one that helps Shuu break free from his trauma, become his own person, and gives him purpose. And in the reverse, Shuu doesn't really do much for Karma. He challenges Karma mentally, and, I imagine, frequently fights with him to get him to conform. I hope that makes sense, and even though it's a one-sided ship, it's still really important to me. I think any ship where at least one person is able to grow internally and become a better version of themselves because of the other is a good ship, even if it is also best set to sail temporarily.

Original list, all are from Krystar:

Rizzy, Roxin and Izzy, canon: Roxin is a hyperactive extrovert that is kind and loves people. He's absolutely crazy about Izzy and always has been. It's like love at first sight cranked all the way up to infinity. Izzy is an introvert who likes working on technology. He often acts like Roxin is a nuisance, but also sees him as his connection to the outside world. Without Roxin, he feels isolated and disconnected, fully aware that this is of his own doing, but he has a problem fixing it on his own. He just feels more comfortable in his own workspace, and is often annoyed by people, but Roxin constantly helps (forces) him out of his shell. And in return, Izzy is a point of stability in Roxin's life. They're also just super cute together. Roxin is really touchy-feely and Izzy hates being touched, but for the most part allows Roxin to do as he wishes, which makes Roxin feel extra special.

Steshi, Stag and Deshi, not canon: I know it may seem weird to ship two people in my own work and have them not get together when it's technically within my own power to make it so, but it just is the way it is. In canon, they work well together. They balance each other out when fighting a common enemy and make up for each other's weaknesses. Stag is wild, unafraid to attack first and ask questions later, great at reading people, fast both mentally and physically, and is quick to come up with short term strategies in battle. Deshi, on the other hand, is extremely tame and reserved, questions every action he ever takes, is completely oblivious when it comes to other people, is slow to react on purpose but makes up for it with his instincts and intuition, and leans on his instincts for more "in the moment" decisions while fighting. They just balance each other really well, and even though it's not canon romantic, Stag does have a crush on him, and I'm a sucker for unrequited love. (Compare "SakuSyao")

Mythren and Gerit, canon: I just love these two and most of it is because Gerit is just so precious! ^^ These two also balance each other out really well. Mythren is quick, thorough, and playful while Gerit is deadly and dense. Gerit is a very unique character for those that haven't read the bit I've posted for him on AO3. It's hard for me to put it into words exactly, but Gerit is lacking in a lot of ways and Mythren not only compensates for those weaknesses but helps Gerit to grow out of them. They're just really good for each other, and like with the themes of most of the other ships I've listed, they fill in each others' gaps and mesh quite perfectly.

I know this was supposed to be a quick list and I went and made a thing out of it, but I know most who might see this won't know any of my original stuff, so they needed an explanation. So, do these ships say anything about me? 👀

Tagging @jackiewepps, @heyhellohihowareyou, @magicalflyingfish, but only if you want to do it. No pressure if not!

I don't wanna hear any of the emotional-wreckage psycho-sexual deviance comments that my answer might arouse

Soukoku

Klance

Jegulus

Next question.

Bonus point for stsg which takes charge whenever one of em is resting

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 141 (Safe and Sound?)

Ash's family, friends, and pets rejoiced over his safe return to a brisk Brindleton Bay - where it still would not stop snowing. Gord followed Ash like a guard. Hazel, who'd been watching Lavender with Heather and Conrad in Sulani, warmly embraced her nephew when he raced to greet her. "Ashy, I'm so glad you're safe."

"Me too, Auntie Hazel. But we totally outsmarted the time travelers! And Felix Psyded and the Grim Reaper helped, too!"

Hazel nodded and pushed out a smile. Heather had told her everything by text from the flight home, and she was still trying to wrap her mind around the whole thing - just like Heather and Conrad. Time travel was one thing, but murderous hitmen and vengeful exes were another thing altogether. Ash seemed the least disturbed by the strange reality he found himself in, which was at least something the adults could take comfort in.

Lavender was unaware her brother had been kidnapped, least of all by time travellers, instead thinking he'd stayed an extra night in San Myshuno with his other family, but she was happy to see him again nonetheless. "Ashy want to read with me?" she asked, sitting next to him on the living room sofa.

"Sure, Lava," he said, and she handed him their worn copy of The Giving Tree. As he read, his voice trailed off, and suddenly he looked up with a smile. "I just got an idea!"

"Like the icy chippy?"

"No, this one will work. All we have to do is tell Mom and Conrad we want them to finally get married."

Lavender looked at him wide eyed as she shook her head. "Mommy said no snow."

"I know, but Mom really missed me while I was gone so she'll say yes. Especially if we tell her we'll plan it and promise there won't be snow."

Lavender cocked her head slightly. "How we gunna plan a wedding?"

"Auntie Hazel will help us, I bet. And Uncle River, too!"

"I want wedding cupcakes!"

"No cake? Just cupcakes?"

Heather smiled as she listened to them from the computer, where she answered an email from Marisol Quesada, the artist in Ciudad Enamorada who she'd commissioned to work on her video game's concept design.

She would agree to her children's plan when they presented it to her; with another baby on the way, it was well past time for her to make things official with Conrad, and now she was up against fitting into a wedding dress with a baby bump. The sooner, the better, if there was no snow. But for now, as her life returned to normal, she refocused on Marisol.

(Thank you @igglemouse for inspiring another crossover with your incredible storytelling. I love your words as much as we love Marisol's artwork!)

The artist's emails were professional, her work was incredible and they had a similar vision. She hoped Marisol wouldn't be upset that her latest response to their collaboration was a few days late; Marisol was always prompt with her replies. Heather wasn't sure how to say she'd had to focus on her kidnapped son instead of the latest proofs, so she made up an excuse about pregnancy fatigue - which wasn't entirely a lie, anyway.

While Heather focused on designing Furever Friends: Stray Valley and her clinic, Conrad was dealing with Ximena and Rafa's cases - what had once been slow investigations taking years off his life were now meetings with judges and lawyers and filing evidence for discovery. But he still found time to help Hazel and River plan his wedding to Heather.

River came to Brindleton Bay for a vet appointment with Duchess and suit fitting with Ash and Conrad, and as her morning sickness finally subsided, Heather was more than happy to focus on her work.

Her regulars were excited for the new clinic, and she was excited to give pets and their owners an even better place to heal when feeling sick. But for now, the old clinic that helped make her the vet she was today still felt like a home away from home.

(Heather would never think of asking her recycle disciple brother not to hug his bag of trash while in her clinic. He loves it too much!)

A few nights before the wedding, Ash was wearing his wedding suit around the house in anticipation, and once his homework was done and he'd helped Lavender stack blocks, he sat down to watch his father on Simlandia National's 6 o'clock news. But even Conrad was intrigued enough to sit and watch when he realized what they were talking about.

"We bring reports this evening of a turquoise-haired man named Emit Relevart, who told several sims in Willow Creek Park he's a time traveler from the future asking for help with his latest mission. Police in Willow Creek say the man is harmless but annoying, and he's unwilling to leave the park until he's found a fellow time traveler and several stolen items he believes have been dropped through time. Sims are asked to beware of Emit Relevart when walking in or near Willow Creek Park, and officials advise against following him through any strange looking portals. Guard your safety, Simlandia."

Ash's eyes bulged. "More time travelers?"

"We don't know that for sure," Conrad said carefully. "Emit Relevart could be a hoax."

"But his name is time traveler backwards!"

"That could all be part of the hoax," Conrad assured him.

"I wonder if Emit knows Marco and Ximena in the future."

"After what happened in Sulani with Rafa, hopefully Ximena's still behind bars in the future, and Marco's gone. He was off the grid for years, but when he died in Sulani, we found a death record for him in San Myshuno."

"So if you time travel but then you die in the timeline where you already exist, your other self dies, too?" Ash considered the questionable and confusing science of time travel - still a bit much to grasp for a genius nine-year-old - but Conrad didn't know how to explain it any better, either.

"Are you worried more people who knew Ximena and Marco will try to find you again?" he wondered, and Ash nodded. "The Landgraabs increased security, and your mom and I will never let anyone hurt you. Same as always," he said.

Ash soon refocused on the wedding, which carried his excitement through the evening until Heather and Conrad tucked him into bed. He fell asleep with his blankets curled around his shoulders, bundled under heavy cotton sheets in the cool spring night of Brindleton Bay.

While he slumbered, Marco's ghost stood over him with a frown. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

[fruitswrl]

Valentines Shifting Pick a Pile જ⁀➴₊♡

" what your DR s/o loves about you + letter from your s/o "

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ what better way to celebrate valentine's day than to share your s/os feelings for you ?

i hope you find what you may be looking for, and if i was able to help in any way then i'm glad. and just like any other reading you find, take what resonates and leave what doesn’t

ꨄ take a deep breath and choose the treat you are most drawn to…

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Pile One 🎂~

/)/) ( . .) ( づ ♡

keywords/signs : allergies, sneezing, procrastination, daze, 3, garlic, cracking knuckles, waiting rooms, secret dates, laughing till your stomach hurts, pasta, cooking dates, car rides, engagements, new york, big families, ponds/bodies of water, loss for words, gifts, best friends to lovers, lack of communication, forgiveness

ꨄ ok i get the feeling that your relationship with your s/o is a wild adventurous one, fast paced yet a long drawn out one. perhaps some of you have been with them before “ officially ” getting together. or maybe an on again, off again situation. i got the sense that, someone, particularly your s/o being confused regarding their feelings. maybe it took them longer than they would like to admit, just how deeply they feel for you. but oh my pile one, they feel so much for you ! 

ꨄ they may play it cool on the outside, but on the inside… they are totally gushing over you. maybe for the first time in a long time you’ve brought out their inner child and they are just entirely giddy being with you. you definitely have been in their head for a long time, no matter what they do they think about you. they have definitely caught themselves thinking things like “ oh you would love this dress. ” or “ i can't wait to tell you about this. ”

ꨄ they truly admire your willpower and ambition. you just don't give up. it’s a quality they wish they saw more in themselves, i mean overall you definitely inspire them to be the best version of themselves. i get the feeling that some of you may be shifting to a fame DR, specifically one in which you are an actor. i sense that you and your s/o work in the same/similar career. I think that's part of the reason they admire your ambition so much. 

ꨄ whether or not you are shifting to a fame DR, and this might only be for a select few, but i get the sense that you two at some point or another have had to keep your relationship hidden. secret glances, hushed voices, hidden rendezvous and all. maybe this was a source of conflict in your relationship, but i think your s/o actually really liked the thrill of it, whether they admitted it or not. 

ꨄ you two seem to be really competitive individuals, you both push each other to their best. even if your s/o shows irritation for this from you, they are really grateful deep down. i think they see you as their lucky charm, with you by their side what could go wrong ?

ꨄ you definitely keep them on their toes, they absolutely love what a free spirit you are. you're down for anything like spontaneous road trips across the country, or getting a ( deeply questionable ) tattoo late in the night. but that's not all, you are willing to do anything for the people you love and care for, heck you'd probably give some random stranger your car just because they needed to go to the store real quick. not because you are naive, but because that's how big your heart is. and i think that might be your s/o’s favorite thing about you.

love letter from your s/o

" hello dear, it feels so long since i've last heard your voice. when are you going to give me a call? i think we should go to that spot near the water next time and feed the ducks. i hope you are doing well lately, i've been meaning to check in on you, i'm sorry if i took too long. there's a lot going on lately–but i really miss you and i desperately want to take you out. maybe we could go see a movie as well? my mom’s been asking about you, i think she misses you too shes just too stubborn to admit it, i guess i got that from her, anyways, call me…

p.s. i finally found that shirt you used to always wear around the apartment, i swear it somehow still smells just like you. "

songs

ꨄ pleaser - wallows

" back in your room remain the words i wanna say to you

but couldn't leave my mouth "

" language of averted eyes

silence is what i do best "

" quite the people pleaser

if only i could please her "

ꨄ this is how we fall in love - chelsea cutler and jeremy zucker

" you are the reason i can survive "

" this is how you fall in love

let go and i'll hold you up "

ꨄ r u mine? - arctic monkeys

" she's a silver linin', lone ranger ridin' through an open space "

" i go crazy because here isn't where i want to be "

ꨄ bonus songs: cedar by gracie abrams and dog days are over by florence and the machine

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Pile Two 🤍~

/)/) ( . .) ( づ ♡

keywords/signs : heavy water sign energy, 222, twin flames, mirrored souls, ice cream, 111, country life, past traumas, rough childhoods, religion, night sky, prayers, gemini, past lives, parties, drowning, separation, “written in the stars”, guitar, kdramas, moon, stars, lengthy conversations, blue lights

ꨄ well pile two, i felt such heavy emotional energy drawing cards for you. mostly just for how much you and your s/o feel for one another, but there might be some here whose s/o ( and maybe yourself too ) had their hearts broken in the past resulting in trust issues. it seems your s/o loves how much you trust them, and how they can trust you too. you are a very dependable individual, you've helped them heal from past hurt and to be able to open their hearts again. they feel like they can actually cry in front of you, free of judgement. you've freed them of a lot of emotional burden. perhaps they've done the same for you. it seems they view you as a literal angel, maybe you came to them in a really dark time in their life and “ saved ” them, and now they would like to save you as well. they are eternally grateful to you.

ꨄ it seems they adore how absolutely intelligent you are, you stimulate them intellectually in a way others bore them. you two probably have very similar hobbies and tastes in things, it seems reading is might be really important to the both of you. i can see that you two might share opinions and beliefs that others don’t, maybe that is part of how you both first bonded. ex: you two having a ( heated ) debate on something no one else particularly cares about but you both end up surprising each other by sharing the same perspective on something. along with your intelligence they admire how honest and direct you are with not only them but everyone, maybe that is part of the reason they trust you so much. you've shown them that even at their worst you will be there fully, right by their side.

ꨄ it seems that despite your honesty with others, to your s/o you have this air of mystique, they can't quite figure you out. i get the sense you might be playing into that as well… but you are not quite what you seem are you ? they desperately want to learn more about you, you are all consuming for them, they cannot even escape you in their dreams ( not that they'd want you to ). they love how in tune you are with your emotions, you are the stability in their life they never really had. you can easily manage making emotionally mature decisions with both your heart and head. maybe they are sometimes quick to anger, quick to let the highs of their emotions take over their actions and words. they really admire how mature you are ( despite the fact that i get the vibe that a lot of you guys are younger than your s/o ). with your high eq ( and iq ) you are a highly intuitive individual, able to pick up if something is off with your s/o. it makes them feel truly seen and cared for, especially in moments where they might not be able to express what they are feeling in the best way.

ꨄ they feel as though you are the one for them, no one else even comes close. pile two, your s/o only has eyes for you. i get the sense that for a lot of you, music is really important, and perhaps your s/o writes you loves songs. sometimes your s/o really worries for your well being, like making sure you've eaten, brushing your hair for you, getting you something from the store even when you say you don't need anything. it seems there's a chunk of you that may struggle with your mental health, and your s/o wants to make sure you're taken care of and wants to try and make you feel safe, ( even when you need your space or push them away ) they want you to know that just as you have for them they will show up, and they will stay.

love letter from your s/o

" love, this is hard for me to say, so i hope you can be patient with me. it’s nothing bad i promise. for the longest time i've been on my own, i haven't had the option to live life with the consideration of others, and i hope you haven't paid the price for that. you mean so much to me, and i don't think i've told you just how much. you are the breath of fresh air i needed, i can't remember the last time i felt like i wasn't drowning. you’ve shown me a different way to live, a different way to love. i have much to be grateful for, for one, you saving my life. i don't think i've ever mentioned that to you, but it's the truth, my truth anyways. no matter where we are, how far apart, i will always find you.

thank you for everything, but most importantly, for being you. "

songs

ꨄ come back home - bts

" i've seen the end of my life

i feel suffocated inside my heart

what is blocking my life is my fear towards tomorrow "

" why are you wasting your time?

my blood and sweat are truthful

now, let's imprint my name on that trophy and

come back home "

ꨄ kaleidoscope - chappell roan

" i guess we could pretend

we didn't cross a line

but ever since that day

everything has changed

the way i write your name "

" whatever you decide

i will understand "

" and love is a kaleidoscope

how it works we'll never know

and even all the change

is somehow all the same "

" and if you ever find

someone who could write

a better song for you

well i'd love to see them try "

ꨄ step on up - ariana grande

" you can't forget me

gave you the time of your life "

" what you need, babe, is a work of art

what you need, babe

come get it, i got it "

ꨄ bonus songs: angels by adrianne lencker and clean by taylor swift

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Pile Three 🍫 ~

/)/) ( . .) ( づ ♡

keywords/signs : music dr/band dr, travelling on the road with your band, smoking, games, wild one, messy hair, all nighters, independence, leather, eyeliner, moles, dancing, life of the party, 777, jealousy, third party/love triangle (?), the seventies, money problems, extremely fast paced, rock music, lullabies , fashion, forbidden romance, red hair, spacing out, 333

ꨄ pile three, it seems you are quite the trouble maker aren't you ? and it seems your s/o loves it. they love how you embrace all aspects of your life even the ugly and dark parts, whatever life throws your way you take it and own it! you easily adapt to any situation, always saying the right thing, you could charm anyone. you don’t have to change for anything, you are the change ! it seems for a lot of you, you and your s/o may have rushed into getting together, your feelings overwhelming. you live in the moment and that means wasting no time, why wait to be together when you can right now ? you are such a rush for your s/o. you could probably talk them into doing anything. one thing you definitely are not is boring. spontaneous and wild. and a love for the times. others can’t decide if they want to be you or with you ( probably both ). and somehow you chose them, they can't really wrap their heads around it. i think in a lot of ways they don't feel good enough for you, that you may deserve better, but they definitely don't let these insecurities show ( they try not to anyways ).

ꨄ despite your overwhelming popularity and stardom, it seems you may be overly criticized by others. your s/o definitely loves you for your flaws and all. you just feel so authentic to them, you don't hide who you are for anyone or anything. others might think you are more focused on yourself and or work to have proper relationships with others, but that doesn't actually seem to be the case, not entirely anyways. you reassure you s/o and their insecurities, if they are maybe going a bit off the deep end rest assured that you are the one to pull them back to shore.

ꨄ they often find themselves daydreaming about you. maybe they want things from you they are scared to ask for. i think they are a lot more of a serious person than others think, and that scares them, how serious they are about you. but even when they think you might leave, you are still there. you give them hope for a better future. you wrecked their plans, and that may have been frightening at first for them, but now they can't imagine it any other way. no matter what happens they truly believe they were meant to find you.

ꨄ they are inspired by your positive outlook on life, you can find meaning in something others can’t, in something they can’t. you are a creative soul, something you are quite passionate about, and they are honestly a bit envious of that. they might be someone who is more methodical than wild and creative. you definitely made them think of love and relationships differently, maybe in the past they had a more cold, closed off, demeanor to it. they still have a long way to go it seems. despite their new perspective they might still become easily jealous of the others in your life. due to their own insecurities.

ꨄ this really might not be the case for everyone , but i get the sense that for the older shifters in this group your relationship may have started as hooking up / friends with benefits. i'm trying to keep this pg, but they definitely think of you, a lot. so do what you want with that…

love letter from your s/o

" think a lot has gone unsaid between us. some days i really don't mind, it’s who we are. but sometimes i think we could be more honest, but maybe that's just me. i know that i don't want to lose you, and that might mean showing you parts of myself i hate. but if that means you staying in my life, even for just a little bit longer than okay, you have me, all of me. i think even as much as it would hurt, even if you hated these other parts of myself, i would know that at least i was honest like you. i think you'd probably think this was cheesy and maybe a bit dramatic. god, i can see it now, you laughing, hopefully with me and not at me. it's fine either way though, i'll take what i can get. just don't make too much fun of me... "

songs

ꨄ strange love - halsey

“ and everybody wants to hear

how we chainsmoked until three

and how you laughed when you said my name ”

“ we wrote a story in the fog on the windows that night

but the ending is the same every damn time ”

“ that's the beauty of a secret

you know you're supposed to keep it ”

ꨄ filter - bts

“ i'll be anything

you can pick and choose me, yeah ”

“ for you, every day i'll be new

it's not fun to stay the same all the time ”

“ you'll be wanting only me

yeah, because you are the one who made me ”

ꨄ triptych - samia

“ keepin' you awake, keepin' you awake on purpose hey, did i make a mistake and do my mistakes worsen? ”

“ i'll be good to you, i'm worth it you, i'm worth it ”

ꨄ bonus songs: to be alone by hozier and closer by rm

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

[somuchforahobby]

do you still think love is a laserquest?

Summary: You get to work a case with your ex Spencer Reid and your boyfriend Patrick Jane Tags: Ex boyfriend trope / flashbacks / fluff and angst / this is the smuttiest I get which is not a lot to say tbh judge yourself / love triangle Warnings: I wrote this after a LOOOONG time of watching the mentalist and I did lovely patrick very dirty / Spence can be a jerk Word count: 5.6 k Reid GIF belongs to @reidgif and Patrick Jane's @morgane-art Read on AO3 Notes: I read @littlediable (AO3) do similar & inspired me to do this :) Italics are throwbacks

“This is Officer Cho, Van Pelt, Rigsby and Patrick Jane” You heard your boss introducing the team while you chewed on your pen & reviewed a file from the last case. It was your job to profile the criminals the CBI captured and put a psychological explanation to Patrick Jane’s ludacris actions.

“Hey, agent Reid, I've been looking forward to meeting you.” You heard your boyfriend say and like a cat, your ears raised.

“It’s Doctor. I also have heard a lot from you.” The familiar voice filled the room.

Your boss called your full name, so you walked out of your office to meet the FBI people Hightower had summoned. “She’s our profiler, not as experienced as you are but I’m sure she can help you out with whatever you need.” Lisbon explained to the tall, dark haired agent standing in front of her. After you shook hands with everyone and introduced yourself, you finally got to Spencer, he looked so much better than last time you saw him. 

“Hello, Doctor .” You extended your hand for a shake, ready to pretend you didn’t know each other, hoping he did as well.

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t have to call me doctor.” He winked at you while shaking your hand. “Are you an officer?” He shot you an incredulous look while letting go of your hand.

You nodded.

The room was quiet, paying full attention to your little exchange, except for Patrick who was fidgeting with something on his couch.

“You’re too smart to be carrying a gun at your waist everyday.” Spencer leaned near your ear “and way too pretty.”

An electric bolt traveled through your body at the sense of his warm whisper in your skin, but your pride knew better than to let him have the last word.

“Well, doctor ,” you elongated the title again, “some of us don’t make it to the FBI at 22 and we gotta work with what we have, even if it’s not brains.” You gave him an innocent yet treacherous smile. He rolled his eyes.

“Uh, Reid, wanna give us some context here?” Prentiss asked over his shoulder, staring at you with wide eyes.

“They’re exes, of course!” Jane crossed the room with his usual smirk. “Everything okay, darling?” He asked you, placing an arm over your shoulders but you couldn’t take your eyes off Spencer, your pissing contest wasn't over.

“Really?” Spencer lifted a brow in amusement, “didn’t think you were the type to date older” 

“Well you should’ve known I was troubled the minute I started dating you” He scoffed.

“We are the same age.”

“Yeah but you still made me call you doctor as we fu—“ with every word you got closer and closer to him, till somebody interrupted you.

“That’s enough!” Hotchner raised his voice for everyone to hear and walked in between you two, “this is nor the time or the place, if you two can’t be professional go home.” He pushed Spencer away from you and kept eye contact with you until he left the room completely.

******

It was a sunny day on campus, everyone was outside. Some sororities even made water balloon parties so half the students were running around in swimming suits.

But you were at the library studying, more exactly, you were searching for a book that the librarian said was inside the library but it was not in its place, so you started your very own quest to find it.

After a few minutes of walking through the place, you spotted it on a desk, somebody else had grabbed it and left it there. Damn people with no library manners.

You grabbed it and were walking back to your desk when a guy walking towards you stopped your tracks.

“I’m using it.” He pointed to the book you had just grabbed, or stolen.

“It was on a desk, I’m sorry, I thought—“ You bit your lower lip in nervousness.

“It’s ok, normally I wouldn’t mind but I do need it.” He answered with a tight lip smile.

“Oh, okay, I’m sorry.” You gave it back to him and started your path back to your place.

“Would you like to sit together? So we can share, of course.” You turned to see him and he was smiling shyly at you, almost regretting his proposal.

“Okay.” You smiled back. -----------------

“There’s no evidence of sexual assault” Rossi pointed out.

“Why is the unsub ripping their clothes and leaving the victims exposed if it’s not interested in sexual abuse?” Prentiss asked the room.

“What if they abused the unsub?” You asked.

“Garcia, please check for criminal records and sexual assault records on the victims” Hotchner said to the phone on the center of the table.

“They all have criminal records for sexual assault, sir, to children.”

You turned to see Prentiss, who was the one you’ve been talking to the most.

“So it’s punishment.”

“I want to talk to their victims” Jane stood up and walked to the door.

“JJ, Morgan, let’s go.” Hotchner gave an order and half their team left.

Lisbon did the same, calling Rigsby and Cho, leaving you and Grace to do research and profiling.

“I don’t think it’s a man, I think it’s a woman” you stated facing the board Spencer had made with the pictures of the victims and all relevant clues you had on the case while biting your nails.

“Why?” He asked you like it was the most absurd statement he had ever heard.

“There’s no sexual assault, the bodies don’t move, the attention to detail is beyond impressi—” You were explaining, staring only at the board when he interrupted you.

“A man can have attention to detail” Spencer corrected you. You turned to see him in disbelief and exhaustion.

“Why don’t you respect my contributions? You respect everyone else’s!” There was anger in your question but you were also hurt. 

“Oh, that’s not true” His gaze softened and he took a step to be closer to you, his hand cradled your cheek, “I also don’t respect your boyfriend's” He leaned in to kiss your forehead and his soft lips on your skin caused you to tremble with memories.

You pushed him off and stormed out of the room with tears in your eyes.

*****

“How do you take your coffee?” He asked one afternoon. After your first encontrance, you started noticing him every time you went into the library, and with a side smirk he’d wave his hand and gesture at the seat in front of him, and every time, you’d sit. Every now and then, when you raised your eyes from your book to steal a glance of his perfect jawline, he was already staring back.

“Uh, latte with one sugar, you?” It was not usual to exchange words, so his deep voice took you out of your tracks instantly.

“Black with two sugar.”

Next morning he arrived with two coffees and a blushed smile. -------------

“So is it true?” Prentiss asked you in a low, warm voice.

You had stormed out of the meeting room to get a coffee and some silence but apparently you had failed.

“What?”

“You and Reid.” 

“Umm” You thought about it, did he deserve you telling the truth to everyone he loves and cares about? Did he not? “Yeah, we dated for a while.”

“For how long?” She was making coffee as well.

“Umm, I believe two years?” You weren’t exactly sure, “I had just started college and he already had his first PhD.” You sat at the kitchenette table and she followed.

“Why did you break up?” 

“I guess we grew apart” bullshit.

“Then why do you hate each other?” You scoffed under your breath at the question.

“I don’t hate him. And I don’t think he hates me either.” Emily seemed surprised at your answer, “I do know for a fact that he considers me ‘a very low point in his life’ and ‘a mistake he never thought he’d be able to commit’” you did air quotes, “and my guess is that he compensates shame with anger.” She was looking at you with certain sadness.

“That’s an awful thing to say.”

You shrugged.

“His cleverness also applies to insults.”

“And what did you do? Why is he so upset at you if he was the jerk?” Her brows were knitted together, invested in the conversation.

“He doesn’t know that I know what he said.” Emily left out a small “ooh”, “I… just stopped talking to him. After a few times he tried to reach me unsuccessfully, he gave up. And that was that.” Tears gathered in your eyes and you looked up to avoid setting them free.

****

“You’re a doctor?” You asked, incredulous and he just nodded with a shy smile. “But you’re twenty!” He nodded again. “How?”

“I am… really smart.” He was leaning against your backpack, half laying on the grass.

“I noticed that!” You laughed, “no, seriously, are you like a genius?” 

“I have eidetic memory”

“What’s that?” 

“It means that I remember everything I see or read.” You were just noticing he used his hands a lot to gesticulate and it turned you on just a little bit.

“Everything?” You teased.

“Everything.” His beautiful brown eyes were focusing on you like you were the only thing left on the planet.

“But only what you see.” 

“Yes.”

“Okay, close your eyes.” 

“Why?” He smiled at your request.

“Just trust me!” 

And he did, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, unconvinced. You leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

His hands quickly moved to your jaw and neck to keep you in place while he returned the kiss slowly and passionately.

You broke the kiss and leaned your forehead on his, both with weary eyes and agitated breathing.

“What was that?” He asked before kissing the top of your nose.

“I want you to remember it because you choose to.” ---------------

“We found our killer” Patrick announced the minute he walked past the door. Spencer rolled his eyes in silence.

“Did you arrest her?” You asked Hotchner, he moved his head sideways.

“Let me guess, there’s no actual evidence” Spencer said while he fidgeted with a rubix cube.

“Yeap” Morgan answered, popping the P.

“We just need to find it, it’s her, it’s Vanessa Torres.” Patrick explained like it was the most obvious thing.

“Let me tell you something, Jane” Spencer dropped the cube and stood up to face him, “the FBI does not arrest people on hunches, we actually need to have evidence.” 

“It’s not a hunch” Patrick answered with his usual smirk, walking towards him. “I know it’s her.” They were standing face to face.

Spencer looked annoyed while Patrick stayed unbothered, even smirking.

“How convenient” there was a touch of sarcasm in Spencer’s voice.

“Gather your evidence, Doctor Reid” Patrick also toyed with the word. “And then we talk.” And with a wink he left the room.

As if this day could not get any worse, your anxiety was off the roof. You were biting your nails and one of them had even started bleeding. You wanted to stand up, go wash your hands and find a band aid, but you also could not handle the stares if you stood up, and you were thankful, because seconds after your thoughts of going out, Spencer stood up from his seat and walked out of the meeting room.

Hotchner was talking about the profile: age, gender, the mobile of the crimes, and Morgan took Spencer’s seat to take notes on certain characteristics of the profile.

“I agree with you,” your name in Hotchner’s voice took you out of your tracks and you turned to see him, “I also think it’s a woman” he nodded in your direction and you smiled.

Spencer walked through the door but seeing his seat was taken, he walked to the other free one that was next to you.

You didn’t even turn to see him, but you felt something lightweight dropped on your lap. You flinched at the proximity and turned down to find a lollipop. Your favorite kind of lollipop, actually.

You turned to see Spencer and he was looking at you with that tight lipped smile of his. You mouthed “thank you” in silence.

“So you stop biting your nails.” He leaned to your shoulder to whisper and you smiled.

You unwrapped it and took it to your mouth to calm your anxiety. For the next 20 minutes, all Spencer could see was the small stick coming out of your lips and the flips your tongue did when you pulled it out to speak.

**********

“Gimme that” You stole the lollipop he had in his mouth and put it in yours. He looked at you open mouthed in mock shock. “You have to help me stop smoking.” You were both sitting on the couch at his place, ever since you learned he was a Dr. and had a place in the university board, you both had decided to keep your dates a little more private to avoid nasty rumors or troubles with the school.

“Anything for my girl” He gave you a smirk, “but you have to share” you took out the candy to give it to him but he pressed his thumb on your chin to open your mouth and leaned towards you to close the space and insert his tongue in to get a taste straight from your tongue.

You were starting to get used to the way he kissed you, soft and caring but filled with need and hunger. His tongue danced around  your mouth, going back and forth to taste the sugar leftovers from the candy. His teeth captured your lower lip and sucked like they were meant to and his hands guided your head and jaw’s every move. He was a controller, he kept you in place or guided you as he pleased.

You took the decision to straddle him and it completely took him out of his comfort zone. He broke the kiss and stared at you dazzled, you took the chance to return the candy to your mouth, trying to be as sexy as you could, he removed it and threw it away, capturing your lips once again in hunger. You sank your hands in his hair, pulling his brown locks between your fingers. Slowly, your hips were moving on his, earning soft whines from his lips as he threw his head back in pleasure.

“You should grow your hair” You mumbled against his jaw.

“Whatever you want”  --------------

Lisbon and Hotchner dismissed you all around 10 pm. You were ready to go home, get some rest and come back in the morning to catch the killer, hopefully.

Given today was your lucky day, you got to share the elevator with both your boyfriend and your ex. You tried to keep quiet but they, of course, disagreed.

“You know I also know a few remedies for your oral fixation” Patrick turned to you with a smirk, your brows furrowed instantly at the insinuation, if it was only you two it would’ve been hot, but with someone else it was awkward.

“That is not even aimed at me, that’s just straight out disrespectful to her.” Spencer pointed out with a higher pitch in his voice, looking at him with disgust.

“I agree with Dr. Reid.” You mumbled and turned your head down.

Once the elevator doors opened in the parking lot, you walked to your car, with Patrick following nearby.

“See you tomorrow” you said over your shoulder and hopped in the car alone.

You arrived home with no signs whatsoever from your boyfriend, and of course he wasn't a teenager, if you had told him you wanted to be alone, he would respect that. But he was also the best people reader and he must have known you were upset.

Before going to sleep, you checked your phone and found 4 unread messages from the same unknown number.

Unknown 11:01 “Hey, Garcia gave me your number.” 

Unknown 11:04 “I was a jerk today, I´m sorry.”

Unknown 11:05 “Would you like to get a fresh start tomorrow?” 

Unknown 11:08 “I’m Spencer, by the way.”

Before you noticed, a smile had formed on your lips while you wrote down your answer.

“I’d love to.” 11:10

“Don't forget to make a wish!” 11:11

You saved his contact and before you could lock your phone you got an answer.

Dr. Spencer Reid 11:12

“Why a wish?”

“OMG. I can’t believe you don´t know that! Whenever you see the time and it's 11:11 you HAVE to make a wish. That’s just how it works.”

Dr. Spencer Reid 11:15

“You know some satanist’s consider 11 to be a relevant number for their rituals and to call in the energy desired, so I’d say it’s probably them who started this tradition and all this time you’ve been asking wishes to Lucifer,” 

That was the most Spencer text you’d ever read. You imagined him talking, going on and on about the topic and you found it endearing. 

“You really know how to charm a girl. I’ll sleep like a baby tonight, thanks.” 11:17

Dr. Spencer Reid 11:18

“I’m sorry, again. Please get some rest.” 11:20

You finally closed your phone and went to sleep thinking of that adorable tight lipped smile your ex boyfriend had.

*****

“Have you done this before?” 

His eyes were lost in your collarbone, frozen.

“Honey, have you done this before?” His brown eyes finally lifted to yours, but he still seemed distracted, and you could not blame him; your knees were on each side of his hips, your bare breasts on his chest.

“Mmm?” He finally regained consciousness, “yes, but what I may or may not have done before does not guarantee that I will get it right this time because what may have liked to someone else maybe will not like you, so my limited experience says that I should be paying attention to details like the change in your breathing and the pitch of your mo—“ you shut him up with a kiss.

“Well, doctor Reid, I think we finally found a subject that I have mastered better than you” you aligned him to your entrance. “So think of this as a learning experience.” His delicious brown eyes were fixated on you with a sweet tone in them, he nodded in pleasure and earned a small whine from his lips when you sank down on him. --------------------

That morning you found a note on your desk.

“Can we have a fresh start if we’re rusty? -SR ”

You smiled and blushed instantly and headed towards the meeting room with a smile on your lips. Not even half the team was there, only Hotchner, Lisbon and Rossi, and of course, Spencer; He was sitting in the same spot as yesterday, so you decided to take the seat next to him. 

“Did you shrink within the last few years? I remembered you taller.” He teased the minute you sat.

“Oh, I thought we’d be around the same height given you always carry your head stuck in your ass” you smirked and so did he.

“Sarcasm fits you, that’s one thing you know better than me.” 

“I remember a few other things that I know better than you.” You teased back and he raised his eyebrows at the realization.

“Actually, I’ve been practicing.” The naturality in his voice scared you, this was not the same guy you’ve known.

“That’s great!” You were both talking about sex next to your bosses and they haven’t even noticed.

“Yeah, we should catch up someday.” He barely had finished the sentence when he was giggling and blushing. So were you.

Hotch and Lisbon turned to see you with question marks on their faces, but Rossi was laughing as well.

After a few minutes, the room was crowded and Hotch started talking about the latest murder, the new hints you’ve gotten and how it had confirmed the profile.

The teams were made, the same as the day before: Hotcher, Lisbon and Jane; Rigsby, Prentiss and Morgan; JJ, Cho and Rossi; leaving you, Grace and Reid to work the profile inhouse.

After you gathered the information and discussed theories, it was all boredom and waiting for news.

You were gossiping with Grace about the little incident with Patrick in the elevator yesterday while Spencer had a nap on the opposite desk, he refused to do so on Patrick's couch.

“I mean, you’re both my friends but he is kind of an asshole with you.” Her beautiful green eyes were focused on you with tenderness.

“But he is sweet, and he’s been through so much. He is so smart!” You were trying to raise his points.

“Listen to you right now, he is not charity work, he is your boyfriend. He hasn’t been supportive of you, he’s been a little more than a dick lately.” You were hating your friend for saying such horrible things about him but you hated her more because she was right. “And you know what we’ve always thought…” 

“Yeah.” You turned to your side and saw Spencer fast asleep on Cho’s desk.

“Him, on the other side…” Grace whispered before standing out and walking to the kitchenette.

The next call you received was that there was a location and everyone had to be there, the three of you suited up and drove there.

“You’ve been using the wrong kind of vest, Spencer.” You teased when you saw him with his shirt, tie and FBI vest. He smirked.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, officer.” He answered, putting on his sunglasses.

********

“Doctor Reid? To what do I owe the pleasure?” Your grin extended all over your face when you opened the door of your dorm to find a smiley Spencer with pizza in the hallway.

“I heard you have it bad with finals, thought I might bring you dinner” He extended his arm to give you the pizza box and kissed your forehead. You took it and gave a step back to invite him in.

It was a simple place, really, two twin beds in each corner of the room, at their feet a desk on each and that was it. Your bed was the one on the right side of the room, he could tell because it was full of textbooks, notebooks and markers, the other one was impeccable.

“Where’s your roommate?” He turned to ask you when he saw the scenario.

“She hooked up with a teacher and hasn't slept here in weeks.” You said nonchalantly. Spencer’s eyebrows rose up in surprise.

“Well that’s inappropriate, what’s the age difference?” He was frowning and his tone was judgemental.

“You’re one to talk, professor.” You turned to tell him scoffing. He laughed and extended an arm over your shoulders into a tight hug.

You ate and discussed the latest topics of your studies, he kept making jokes assuring you it was just so you’d remember everything easily, not to make fun of you. Your laughs were loud, and your bodies were growing more and more comfortable with each other, surrounded by books.

“I got an email from the university” You casually said while leaning against him on your bed. “They proposed to skip last year and go straight to the masters degree” a whole smile formed on his lips.

“Sweetheart, that’s amazing, you deserve it.” He grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“Would you help me fill out my application?” You battleled your eyelashes at him.

“Of course, but I will have to charge you.” He got on top of you and started unbuttoning your blouse. ---------------

Hotchner and Morgan completed the arrest, meaning the CBI was paying for the drinks that night.

You all headed there, you were snuggling in your boyfriend’s arm during the toast.

“I missed you last night” you said in his ear. Working with your ex had given you a lot of tension and stupid reminders of why you had loved him so much and had been so hard to get over, so you needed to get your man alone to remind you why you were with him.

“Of course you did” Patrick leaned towards you, kissing you softly. You broke the kiss trying to hide your disappointment, that’s not what you wanted right now.

You realized both Lisbon and Spencer were staring at your little scene.

After a few rounds, everyone was dancing, you stood by Emily and Grace’s side on the dancefloor and before you could notice, your boyfriend was nowhere to be found.

You returned to the table to catch a breath and found Spencer sitting alone.

“Have you not practiced dancing?” You teased as you took a bottle of water. He moved his head from side to side, with a smile. “You should, it’s the foreplay to… you know.” He scoffed.

“Do you have an open relationship?” He hadn’t even finished his question when you were laughing.

“Asking for a friend?” You bit your lower lip.

“Asking because otherwise I think he is cheating on you.” Your insides melted and then revolved.

“What?” You whimpered

“With Lisbon.”

“No way” you regained your senses and tried to brush it off.

“Where is he right now?”

“I don’t need to track his every step to trust him.”

“And do you?” He asked but you were too lost in thought. He said your name like a prayer and that brought you back. “Do you trust him?” You didn’t respond.

He pulled out his phone.

“Garcia, can you track two phones for me, please? It’s agent Lisbon and Patrick Jane, please.”

“Is everything okay?” He put her on speaker.

“Yeah, just do it for me, please.”

“They both seem to be in Crystal St. 140, apartment B.” Your mouth opened instantly.

“That’s her place.” You whispered.

“Thanks Garcia” and he closed his phone. “Would you like another drink or would you rather sober up?” He asked with an air of arrogance on his face.

“I want a cigarette” You left the table and walked outside of the bar with him walking nearby.

“I thought you didn’t smoke anymore” He said as you lit up your cigarette.

“Only in case of emergency” You smoked and threw your head back in pleasure to fill your lungs with smoke again after so long.

“Are you ok?” He whispered with tenderness.

“Yeah, I kinda already knew. I’ll break up with him tomorrow.”

You shared a comfortable silence for a while, you eyed him up and down, he had grown his hair and you wondered if it was because he followed your suggestion.

“Why did you cut me off?” He seemed hurt when he asked the question.

“What?” Your tipsy head did not have energy to chase his train of thought.

“Back then, why did you cut me off?”

“Oh” you took a deep breath, “I read the whole transcript of the session, what did you expect?” you took another sip of your vice, “but it’s ok, maybe you didn’t mean it, it came out wrong, you’re sorry, whatever” you were trying to look unbothered by one of the most hurtful events in your life, “Let’s just pretend it never happened.” You were leaning against a wall and he was standing just one step from you.

“No” he moved his head from side to side with determination in his eyes, “I did mean it. And I’d say it again if needed.” 

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, waiting for further explanation.

“Because I did it for your masters degree” He took the cigarette from your fingers and had a smoke before putting it back in your mouth. “They knew we were together and were going to deny your application based on that, so I told them what I had heard from so many colleagues before, so they wouldn’t relate you to me.” 

You didn’t say a word, you were still processing  his words. Hypnotized by the way his hands moved and the sparkle in his brown eyes.

“Please say something” His raspy low voice begged you.

“I forgive you” You whispered and his eyes filled with tenderness.

You put your cigar between your lips once again and took a sip but he grabbed it again.

“You mind if I—“ he asked when his agile fingers had already stolen it from your lips. He breathed in the smoke and threw the rest of the cigar away.

“It wouldn’t be the first time we sha—“ In one motion he expelled the smoke and closed the distance between the two of you, throwing arm over your shoulders to bring you closer.

His lips crashed into yours in desperation.

***

“We could stay as friends” He proposed to you with a blushed smile.

“Friends who kiss and fuck? Alright.” You were lying next to him naked in his bed, talking about the future of your relationship now that you were applying for a masters degree scholarship.

“Yeah, but, to avoid any suspicion, if you want to go out with someone else I’d understand. I can’t keep you trapped here forever.” He gestured at the walls surrounding him. 

“I would not complain” You kissed him and he smiled.

“The world deserves your brains, sweetheart.” He put a hand on your throat and pushed to separate your lips.

“And I deserve your tongue” You teased and he smirked.

“That you’ll always have” He brought you back to kiss you deeper and got on top of you, tracing your jaw with kisses.

“Are you seeing somebody else?” You asked, finally understanding what he had asked you before.

“no” he kept tracing your neck with his lips.

“Do you want to?”

“No” He was focused on kissing and biting your stomach.

“Because, I would also understand.” He stopped to look at you.

“Even if I wanted to, I don’t think it’s actually possible for me to stop thinking about you. Whenever I put something in my mouth I wish it was you, so no, I don’t want to see anybody else, I don’t think I could see anybody else. You’ve ruined me, so, if I may.” He returned his entire concentration to your body. ---------------

As soon as you walked through the door, he threw you against the wall and captured your lips in his. You had decided to go to his hotel room, convinced it was more convenient given your ex had been in your place only a few days before. And even if you were cheating, you would not do it in the same bed. 

Spencer kissed you hungrily, filled with need. His hands kept you in place, but then his desperation got the best of him and he’d touch all over your body, bringing you closer and closer to him, as if it was possible.

You were trying to undo his tie, but with his lips sucking yours and his tongue reconquering your mouth, it was hard to focus on the task.

“I need you— ah” he moaned, “I need you to touch me” His hands quickly moved to undo his tie and ripped off the buttons on his shirt, hurrying to do the same with yours. 

The second your hands laid on his torso, he trembled under your touch. You, on the other side, were melting under his soft but needy caresses on your waist and hips that turned into unclasping your pants to pull them off your thighs, along with your underwear. He knelt in front of you, kissing your inner thighs, with one hand on your stomach pushing you against the wall. He looked up to you with adoration, his chocolate eyes melting for you, and made you feel powerful. 

“I want you to tell me” a soft kiss on your thigh, “what he does to you.” his voice was merely a whisper.

“why?” You were lost in the proximity, the heat of his lips, the warm air near your core.

“Tell me” he swallowed and moved this face through your thighs inhaling, “if he did better” raising your right leg a little to get his face in between, “so I know” a small kiss up your knee, “I gotta try” another one higher, “harder” one in your groin and you gasped. “So I’m guessing, no.” He chuckled and with a swipe of his tongue, you were brainwashed.

“It’s been a while since I was called a God.” You teased him. Your head was resting on his torso, his hand drawing small circles in your back.

“Fucking idiot” he guided your lips to his again in a demanding kiss. “Come to Quantico with me” it was an order.

“Spencer” your head was still buzzing, your voice was a mere whisper.

“Please, you’re so much better than the local police. I can get you in the BAU, I know Hotch liked your work and we can pull in some fa—“ 

“And owe my life to you?” Your question took him out of place, and his aspiring smile turned into hurt. “Honey, what if we hate each other again in months, uh? Then we’ll be working together and seeing each other every day. That’s not…” your voice was shrinking with each word.

“No, we won’t” He was certain, his puppy eyes were begging you to agree. “I could not hate you even if I tried, and gosh , have I tried” he covered his eyes with the ball of his hands in frustration.

“Well, what if I hate you?” You asked with a smirk to ease the tension.

“Then” he uncovered his face, “you would have to forgive me eventually because I would be around you all the time like a satellite.” He kissed you.

“Okay” you smiled into the kiss.

“Please come, and do the testing at least.” He begged once again against your lips.

“Okay.” You broke the distance again with a kiss, sealing the deal.

[grrrrrrrbarkbarkbark]

Once again: I love my friends

[crescentfool]

orpheus and thanatos 💚

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[averlym]

litany of the martyrs (click for better resolution!)

[sschmendrick]

Gotta write a production report for two songs we recorded and I'm gonna have to do at least a third of it for a group of 6 after having done about half of the recording and editing work for one of these two projects...all that cause I still haven't found an internship so I can't just say : do it without me.

It's a little exhausting. I know they will work if I really push them but they'll do it super late and I'll have to revise it when I get back home from the small concert I've allowed myself to go instead of my portuguese lesson (brazilian artist so it's all good my teacher said, I still feel bad) and I'll have to run around tomorrow morning to print it and I'll assume the cost again.

It's...yeah it's exhausting. And my thesis is so far behind, and I still have no internship. I wanna keep strong but man that diploma is slipping away from me. I'm not even sure I have good enough grades at my exams now !

[starscelly]

if you give a goalie a knife...

[hoziersong]

do you mind if i ramble in the tags about my weird relationship with making art in fandom for a second

[imaginedisish]

Anything (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: Something is seriously wrong with me...I cannot stop writing for this man. Started this one last night after hearing him say "princess" in "The Wolverine" (2013). This is another nightmare fic, but I promise it's different! Heavily inspired by "anything" by Adrianne Lenker. Hope you guys enjoy!

Summary: Your summer affair with Logan is, in fact, not just a summer affair.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT!! MINORS DNI!!! Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), (some?)fingering, cockwarming, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, nightmares, fem!reader/afab!reader, canon-typical violence, mutant!reader (unspecified abilities), feelings, angst, cursing, probably grammatical errors, I think that's it!

Word Count: 3,213 short for me

It started one summer night—under the stars. You had slipped out the window of your room in the mansion. You were sitting with your legs crossed, perched precariously on the old, shingled roof. You never got much sleep—you simply couldn’t—even though you knew the mansion was safe. Staying awake remained a solace, a comfort. It meant fewer nightmares; it meant you couldn’t be haunted by the hurt of your past.

Staring up at the stars beat staring up at your ceiling, and so you had made it a habit to crawl out of your window and sit on the roof. 

Until that one summer night, when Logan found you out there.

He shoved open his window and stuck his head outside. “What the fuck are you doing out here?” You smiled, turning your head to face him. You shrugged your shoulders, giggling at the concern on his face. He mocked you, shrugging his own shoulders in imitation. 

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide your smile and the way he made you laugh. You and Logan had been growing closer, spending more time together. He was looking out for you—constantly and protectively. It made you feel good knowing that someone cared so deeply. 

“Why don’t you come over here?” You called over to him, patting the spot next to you. He shook his head and ducked back inside. You quickly assumed he didn’t feel like being with you, your heart sinking down into your stomach. You wanted him to come out, to sit with you. Maybe you could’ve—

But then there he was, pushing the window as far open as it could possibly go, struggling to climb out. It wasn’t too much of a scuffle over to you, your rooms being right next to one another, but he made a big deal of the trek nonetheless. He huffed for dramatic effect as he sat down next to you. 

“This is so incredibly dangerous,” he had said, sarcasm heavy in his voice. 

You gasped. “Logan Howlett cares about safety?” You clasped your hand over your mouth for flare. “My safety?” 

He smiled, but there was something serious in his face. “I do, actually.” You tried not to notice as he inched closer to you, your shoulders brushing together. “What are you doing out here, princess?” He asked again. 

You smirked at the familiar nickname. “I don’t really like sleeping,” you muttered. 

Logan nodded. He understood better than anyone else. “I know…” He trailed off, looking up at the sky. “But why sit out here?”

“It’s quiet,” you whispered. “And it’s beautiful. Better than being in there, just sitting in bed.” 

He nodded again. “It is beautiful.” You turned your head back to Logan as he spoke. He wasn’t looking at the sky anymore. He was looking at you. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “Did you have a dream tonight?”

You shook your head from side to side. “Didn’t give myself the chance to yet, and I don’t plan on doing so.” You sighed, looking down at your legs, still crossed like a pretzel in front of you. “Wish we didn’t have to deal with this, you know?”  

Logan slowly brought his arm around your shoulder, as if he was waiting for you to shove him away. He had touched you before, but not quite like this. It was always in passing—always short and fleeting. But this? This was intentional. You leaned into his touch and let your head fall to his shoulder. “You don’t have to deal with it alone,” he offered, his lips faintly brushing at your temple. 

You tilted up to look at him, his face inches away from yours. He pulled you in closer, his breath fanning across your cheek. “You’re not alone,” he repeated. 

And then his lips were on yours. You kissed on the roof. You let him tug you into his window, into his bed. He tasted you that night. You spread your legs and let him inside. And then you slept. You slept without waking up in a cold sweat. You slept without reliving your past. And for the first time in a long time, so did he. 

And now it's become a habit. He opens his window for you, and you climb across the roof and inside. Every night. You haven’t slept alone since the beginning of the summer, and it’s August now. There’s no label on whatever it is you two are. But you know it’s serious—the way he asks every night if you can stay, even though he knows you’ve already made up your mind and that you aren’t going anywhere. 

But tonight is different. Logan was sent on a day trip with some of the students, while you were tasked with staying at the school to run through training exercises. It’s the end of the day now—10 PM. You’re exhausted as you let your back crash down on the mattress. 

Thanks to Logan, your body has become accustomed to sleeping. You can feel it calling you, feel your tiredness creeping in at the corner of your eyes. You try to fight the feeling, but it’s no use. Your eyes flutter open and closed, resisting until you can’t anymore, and you fall asleep. 

There’s a piercing ringing in your ears. Your chest is heaving violently. You’re strapped down to a chair, a needle inches away from your forearm. Maybe it’s Stryker. Maybe it’s some other mutant hunter or government agent ready to do their worst. You thrash around in the chair, yanking at the restraints to no avail.

You choke out a sob, throwing your head back in agony. Logan is all you can think about. What if he’s in danger? What if you never see him again? What if this is it?

Just as the needle breaks skin, the piercing ringing starts up again, and everything goes black. 

You force yourself to sit up, cold sweat drenching every inch and curve of your body. You look over to the clock on your nightstand: 12:37 AM. You had only been asleep for two hours. You shut your eyes, letting your head bump into the headboard behind you. You take deep, slow breaths, trying to lower your heart rate, silently reminding yourself that it was all just a dream. 

You’re not exactly sure what brought the nightmare on, but you know you aren’t going back to sleep. You crawl out of bed and into the darkness of your room, carefully walking to your window and shoving it as far open as it can possibly go. You climb out and sit on the still-hot roof to look at the stars. 

The twinkling balls of heat shine above you. It hits you then that even stars must die. They have all that energy, all that beauty, and then they burn out. You swallow at the thought, tears burning behind your sinuses. 

You don’t want to look over at Logan’s room—don’t want to see the window closed. The trip was to some aquarium down the shore in Jersey. You know he’s likely not home yet, and for the first time since all of this started, you’re worried about bothering him. You don’t want to force him to deal with your—

And then you finally see it. His window is open, the curtains billowing around inside. You let out a tight breath you didn’t know you were holding, your shoulders going slack at the thought of crawling into his bed. 

You scale the roof carefully, bending down as you climb inside his room. You get tangled up in the curtains, and you shove them aside to reveal Logan in his bed, eyes shut. You swallow harshly at the sight—his chest bare and his hair a mess. Sometimes you’ll stay up and watch him sleep, just to see this, just to know what he looks like when it's late and no one else is around. 

But then he’s twitching. He grunts, his chest heaving rapidly. You sprint across the room to his side, practically tripping over nothing in the rush of it all. He’s fisting the sheets, mumbling nonsense, violently turning left and right. You can see the pain in the tightness of his jaw, in the way his muscles flex. Your heart drops deep into the pit of your stomach. 

“Logan,” you call out, bringing a hand to his shoulder. You know he’s sensitive—know he can bring the claws out at any second—so you take care with your movements. “Logan,” you call again, louder this time. You grip his shoulder harder, shaking him, trying to force him out of the nightmare. 

You think you hear your name slip from his lips. “I’m right here,” you soothe, bringing your other hand to his abdomen, rubbing softly as you continue to shake his shoulder. He’s a sweating mess, his body cold and hot at the same time. You want to take his pain away, to make all of this better. “Come on,” you beg. “Wake up.”

And then he’s sitting up, his eyes open wide. You step back, giving him the space he needs as he comes to. His claws shoot out, ready to strike. He turns his head, his eyes frantically searching the room until he finds you. 

He quickly retracts his claws, and you watch as his shoulders relax. His chest still rises and falls rapidly with every breath he takes. 

“Logan,” you whisper, stepping closer to him again. “Are you—” 

He cuts you off, pawing at you, grabbing your sides, and pulling you into his bed. He’s on top of you in an instant, caging you in, his throat bobbing as he swallows harshly. 

“Can you stay?” It’s a ritual, the way he asks. He knows your answer—always does. But he asks anyway. You know he wants to hear it from your lips, wants to know that you want this, too. 

Your heart clenches in your chest. “Yes,” you sigh as one of his hands comes to rest underneath your shirt, climbing slowly up your stomach. “But Logan—”

He swallows your protests with a kiss, and you moan into his mouth. It’s hurried, rushed, like he’ll die if he can't have you right away. “Don’t wanna talk about it. Need you now. Talk after,” he mumbles against your lips, kissing you again before you can say a word. 

You understood—you needed him too. Needed to feel him inside you, under your skin, everywhere. 

His hand slinks up to your bare chest; you had forgotten you weren’t wearing a bra, just one of Logan’s old t-shirts and your panties. His touch is rough; needy. He squeezes your tits, his fingertips brushing your nipples, drawing tight circles. You moan his name, already squirming underneath him. 

Logan’s erection grinds against your core. He’s just wearing his boxers—nothing else—but it’s still too much. You need him bare before you, deep inside you. You lift your hips up to meet his, your arms wrapping around his back to pull him closer.

He takes the hint, his hand gliding back down your body to the hem of your panties. He reaches down farther, teasing your folds through the fabric. “Fuck, so fucking wet already,” he mumbles, slipping your panties to the side so that he can feel you. You shudder under his touch, his fingers spreading your slickness up to your clit. He strokes teasingly, the ache between your thighs growing with every flick and circle. 

It feels like heaven, but you need him closer. “Logan,” you whimper, fisting the sheets underneath you. “Want you, please.” It’s a desperate prayer and not just a request. 

Logan suddenly pulls his hand away and you whine at the loss of contact. “I know, sweetheart,” he soothes reassuringly, sitting up and pushing his boxers down. You’ll never get tired of the sight of his cock springing free against his stomach. His hands are back on your hips in an instant, squeezing lightly before hooking his fingers under the waistband of your panties and yanking them down. 

He's back on top of you, lowering down onto one forearm as his other hand pulls your shirt above your tits. “Wanna see you, pretty girl,” he groans, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple before his forehead meets yours.

His hand comes down to the base of his cock, guiding his tip to your entrance, to where you need him most. His chest heaves in time with yours, your nipples brushing against him. He stays there for a moment, not moving. His eyes search your face, as if to confirm you’re real—that you’re truly here with him. You can see the need in his eyes. It’s not lust anymore—not just about sex. It’s never been about that. 

It has always meant more. 

Logan suddenly thrusts into you, bottoming out down to the hilt, stretching you open. You can feel him throb inside you. He groans at your ear. “So goddamn tight.” He doesn’t pull back out, his hips still, his cock buried deep inside you. You need him to move, need to feel his cock rub against your walls. You try to grind down on him, but he doesn’t let you. His hand latches onto your hip, keeping you in place. 

“Lo,” you whine. 

“Love when you call me that, sweetheart,” he growls, his hips still stuck in place. “Just wanna feel you like this for a minute. Don’t move.” 

It’s all too much. You need more, need him to fuck into you. Logan frees his hold on your hip, his hand trailing down between your bodies. He finds your clit, drawing achingly slow circles there. It’s nowhere near enough, but the temporary relief feels so good. 

“Always want you this close,” he murmurs, his hips finally starting to move, slowly but surely. You arch your back at the feeling. “Feels so good, so fucking good.” 

He’s taking his time, committing how you feel around his cock to his memory. He’s filling you up, taking in every inch you have to give him. You’re still adjusting to his size, his cock working you open with every thrust. His fingertips swirl around your clit, adding more pressure to the sensitive bud. You’re already close, already putty in his hands. 

Your walls flutter around him, drawing him in, deeper and deeper. 

“Should’ve just brought you in here when I got home,” he husks between starving kisses. “Shouldn’t have waited.” 

You wrap your legs around his waist. “I’m here now,” you coo, your nails scratching at his back as he pounds into you, picking up his pace, his hips snapping into yours. 

“D-don’t know what I’d do without you,” he stutters, his voice suddenly shaky. He’s still fucking into you relentlessly, pumping in and out. “F-fucking need you all the time, princess.” His words and that nickname light a spark at the base of your spine. You can feel yourself melting, ready to come undone. 

“So close,” you choke out in between thrusts. 

You clamp down on him. “That’s it,” Logan whispers, his cock rutting into you, his fingers still circling your clit. He’s working you through it, taking care of you, making you feel good. “Come on my cock, pretty girl. Wanna feel it.” 

You can’t help but do as he says—that spark at the base of your spine spreading like wildfire. You’re moaning his name, walls squeezing around him, stars blurring your vision as your orgasm floods through you. But Logan isn’t slowing down, his cock pounding into you and his fingers stroking your clit long after you’ve finished. 

“Love feeling you come,” he mutters, biting your lip in between kisses. “Wanna feel you come again, princess.” 

You’re already beyond fucked out, overstimulated, and far too sensitive, but his words goad you along. “’S’so much, Lo,” you whimper, tripping over your sentence as he splits you apart, sinks into you, hitting your g-spot with every pump. 

“Know you can take it,” he praises, pressing a kiss just under your ear, then to your pulse point, and back up to your lips. “Know you can come again for me, can’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer. “A-anything for you.” You mean it, and he knows you do.

“Fuck,” he curses, his thrusts growing sloppier as the words fall from your lips. “F-fucking beautiful, perfect.” 

You look to where you two are connected—where you become one—and watch as his cock disappears into you. It’s too much, the sight, the feeling of him fucking into you, rubbing your clit, chasing your orgasm. It’s all it takes to have you falling apart underneath him, coming on his cock again. 

After a few soothing strokes to your clit, his nails trail up your body, his fingertips exploring your bare skin. Logan curses under his breath, your name on his lips. You know he’s close behind—almost there. 

“Don’t pull out,” you whisper in his ear, his cock pulsing inside you. “Stay.” 

That’s all the permission he needs to fill you up, his hips stuttering as he comes. “F-fuck,” he groans, his hand slipping under your back to hike you up, to bury himself as deep as possible, to hold you flush against him as he finishes inside you. 

He pumps a few more times, riding out his orgasm, but he doesn’t pull out. He grabs your thigh and hoists your leg around his waist as he shifts you onto your side. You’re next to him now, your chests still pressed together.

“Lemme stay inside you,” he mumbles. 

You nod against him. “Okay.” You squeeze your leg around his waist, taking him deeper. 

The room is silent, your shared shallow breaths the only sound. The curtains dance in the breeze from the still-open window. Your eyes flutter shut, and Logan’s lips press a kiss to each of them. 

After a few moments, he breaks the silence. “Don’t ever wanna spend a night without you.”

Your eyes flutter back open, and you’re met with Logan’s soft, sleepy face. His hair is a mess. You can’t help but smile at the intimacy—the domesticity. “You don’t have to,” you say back. 

“I mean it,” his voice is steady, firm, the sleepiness replaced suddenly with something more serious. “Need you with me all the time.”

“I know,” you say. And then he’s drawing stars across your back. It makes you think of the night this all started. The night everything changed. “I’ll always stay. Always.” You blink and an unexpected tear slips down your cheek. You swallow harshly, unprepared for the vulnerability of the moment. 

Logan immediately notices and brings his thumb up to your cheek, brushing the tear away. “Just want you. Give anything to make you mine.” 

“I already am,” is all you can manage to say. “Don’t need anything.” 

“Gonna give it to you anyway.” He kisses the spot where he wiped the tear away. 

You start to drift off—his arms around you, his cock still buried inside you—the thought of a forever with Logan replaying in your mind. 

You think he’s asleep, but then you hear his soft husk at your ear. “I love you. Always will.”

“I love you, too.”

[valyvinny]

╰┈➤ ❝ Love and deepspace boys ⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ Love Languages ❞

PAIRING : Caleb x reader, Sylus x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader and Xavier x reader GENRE : Fluff WORD COUNT : 1745 TAGS : sfw, fluff, minor self deprecation (only in Xavier's) A/N : Very fluffy headcannons for the boys! Really enjoyed writing this so I hope you like it :). The next piece of writing is probably gonna take a while because exammmsss ugh. Pray for me everybody.

The different love langauges of the LADS boys

──●◎●── Caleb ┆彡 Physical touch

Caleb is an absolute FIEND for physical touch. This is largely because he spent the better part of his life having to make do with patting your head, ruffling your hair, and holding your hand to ‘measure hand sizes’. Always having to exercise an immense amount of restraint when all he wanted to do was kiss you senseless.

The line between platonic and romantic was blurred since the very beginning. But Caleb wouldn’t dare tread that line, especially if it meant losing you. That he wouldn’t be able to bear. 

But now you were his, and he’d take any excuse to have some part of himself touching you at all times. Whether that be a hand on the small of your back, little pecks throughout the day, cradling your face, massaging your sore muscles, he’d take it. 

However, his favorite form of physical touch other than sex ofcourse was just holding you. Sometimes it would be when the both of you had a rare day off together. It would be a lazy afternoon, your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around you, lazing around on the couch. 

Other times it would be late at night, after another grueling day of work. With him holding you close, your back to his chest. 

Sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night, another one of his treacherous nightmares plaguing his sleep. But the sight of you next to him would instantly put him at ease. He’d pull you closer to him, kiss your neck, and drift back to sleep. 

With you in his arms, Caleb felt truly at peace. 

──●◎●── Rafayel ┆彡 Quality time

Rafayel will do anything with you, as long as it meant that you were next to him. He wasn’t very picky with what the both of you were doing really. As long as he was doing it with you. 

You were his muse. Many times, he’d ask you to simply sit around him while he paints. You’d be doing your own thing. Typing up work emails, writing your reports or catching up on your favorite series. 

There wouldn’t be much conversation between the two of you. But somehow, your mere presence brought him inspiration to create. With you around, ideas came easy. 

You’d often be subjected to his texts throughout the week. 

“Hey cutie, wanna go on a walk with me” 

Other times it would be 

“I have an exhibition in Milan. Dun know if you wanted to come?”

(That’s a lie, he already has an extra ticket ready. But it wouldn’t hurt to ask right?) 

And who were you to deny the Lemurian? 

Sometimes however, your schedule didn’t allow you such luxuries. But that minor inconvenience didn’t stop him. He’d come over and help you do your laundry or even cook you a delicious meal if it meant just spending that extra bit of time with you. 

Every now and then your work required you to take missions away from him. Sometimes even away from Linkon. It was pure torture for the merman. Sure, you’d video call occasionally, but it just wasn’t enough. He wished you were beside him. 

And when you’d eventually came back to him, he’d pout. 

“Look who finally decided to stop by” 

But all that indignation would melt almost instantly as soon as you said “I missed you Raf”  

──●◎●── Sylus ┆彡 Gift Giving

Sylus is a very busy man. One would be heading an organization such as Onychinus. There’s always a deal to make, meetings to attend and people to intimidate. But that never stops him from always having you on his mind. He’s a thoughtful man. 

Sometimes you’d come home to find a package dropped outside the door to your flat. 

“I was passing by a store and I thought this dress would look beautiful on you kitten” the note attached to it would say. And it did. It was tailored to perfection to fit your form, hugging all your curves in all the right places. 

The dress would easily be several thousand dollars. Every time you’d admonish Sylus for spending so carelessly, he’d scoff in response. 

“Money is nothing to me sweetie” 

More often than not, you’d find a single rose on your window sill. When you questioned the silver haired man about it, he’d simply say “Well kitten, you shouldn’t leave your window open. It’s not safe. A little birdie may come in” 

(But maybe that’s exactly why you did it) 

But perhaps the most thoughtful gifts are the ones that Sylus gets you after you’d casually mentioned it in passing. 

One such present, and probably your most cherished one, was your limited edition plushie. They had it in stock only in one store in the whole of Linkon. To make matters even more bleak, they were selling it only for a day. 

“I really wish I could get it myself. But the Association just assigned a mission to me” you’d complained. 

The next time you met Sylus, he’d be holding that very plushie in his hand. 

“I have something for you sweetie” 

Truth be told, Sylus doesn’t understand the allure of such toys. It seemed to be quite popular considering he’d stood in a queue for a grand total of three hours. But it was worth it, the look of excitement and surprise on your face is something that he replays in his mind every now and then, whenever he’s away from you. It brings him warmth. 

Sylus would give you the world if he could, just to see you happy. 

──●◎●── Zayne ┆彡 Acts of service

Zayne is a very attentive man. He’s almost fine tuned to your needs and wants. Sometimes you’d tease that he never really frees himself from his ‘Doctor mode’. He spoils you, really. 

“I’ve ordered your favorite soup from the restaurant you like. It’s on its way to you. Please eat well” he’d text you when you were on your way home after another tiring day fighting wanderers. 

It’s almost like Zayne was a mind reader. Somehow, he’d know exactly what you needed, when you needed it. 

“I’m coming over to you right now. I have a tub of ice cream and chocolate in hand. Would you like anything else?” he’d ask you on the first day of your period. 

For Zayne, your happiness and well-being were his priority. He’d go to any lengths to ensure that. 

Once, after a particularly overwhelming week at work, you were dreading returning to your apartment. You’d left your place in a mess having had no time to clean up in between work days. You’d often find yourself coming home and collapsing into bed almost immediately. 

But now you had to face the mountain of a task that was cleaning up. Especially now, considering you had the next few days off. 

As you opened the door to your apartment, you were stunned. The entire place was neat and tidy. Not a hair out of place. From the kitchen, a delicious aroma wafted over to you, a pot of stew boiling away on the stove. 

You stood there both in awe and confusion, when Zayne emerged from your room. He looked soft, clad in a pair of pajamas and an apron, a duster in his hand. He hardly resembled the same intimidating Dr. Zayne that had everyone quaking in their boots.

“I hope you don’t mind. I had some free time and used the spare key you gave me” he said. 

“I thought you could use some help cleaning up. Once you freshen up, I can serve the rice and stew I made for dinner” 

Zayne preened under your appreciation. Warmth creeping up his neck, dusting his ears a soft shade of red, as you littered his face with kisses and endless appreciation. 

“It’s nothing” he’d say. 

To him, it really was nothing. If Zayne could do anything to lighten your burden or even make your day just a tad bit better, he’d do it in a heartbeat. 

──●◎●── Xavier ┆彡 Words of affirmation

Xavier truly has a way with words. He always knows exactly what to say, no matter the circumstance. This innate ability of his had the power to single-handedly turn your day around. 

You wanted to be the best hunter there ever was. This ambition of yours would often push you to take up extreme and risky missions to prove your abilities. But sometimes, it made you reckless.

There was one such time, where you were battling a rather difficult Wanderer. You really tried your hardest. Used all the strength you could muster and everything you’ve learned from your years of training, but the Wanderer bested you. If it weren’t for Xavier fighting it off, you’re not sure you would’ve made it through. 

“I’m pathetic” you’d say after. “I can’t seem to do anything right” 

Xavier couldn’t stand it when you were like this. The self deprecation stung him a little. If only you could see yourself through his eyes. But in moments like these, he knew you needed an extra bit of support and affirmation. 

“You did good my light. You were brave. No one else volunteered to take this mission but you did” he’d say, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your forehead. 

“It was a difficult mission. The Wanderer was of an incredibly high level and you weakened it considerably. You’re stronger than you know. Sometimes, it’s okay to combine strengths and ask for help okay?” 

And it not just what he says. It’s how he says it. Xavier says things with such surety and conviction, that you can’t help but believe him. You can’t help but take his words as law. 

Your favorite part of the day is always the random text that Xavier would send you. It would always be at different times, owing to the fact that he would often fall asleep and wake up rather erratically. But the element of surprise made it that much better. 

Each day was different. Sometimes it would be “You can achieve anything you set your mind to my love” other times it would be “I believe in you my light” 

These messages meant more to you than Xavier would ever know. It comforted you, knowing that you had someone by your side to always root for you. It gave you the strength and the courage to face obstacles head on. 

And for Xavier, praising and encouraging you came easily. You’re the strongest woman he’s ever known and he’d spend his entire lifetime reminding you the same. 

© valyvinny. All right reserved. Do not steal, copy, translate, repost or reupload any of my works. Do not use my work for AI

[dilf-docs]

You're a Daydream, Stay A While

joel miller x younger!reader

summary: you're jackson's designated bartender. well, your dad is, but after the arrival of a new face in town, maybe the inspiration to finally step up to your obligations kicks in.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., oral (f. receiving), fingering, foreplay (mostly breasts), creampie, breeding kink (kinda), angst/comfort, insecure!joel (love touch etcetc starved), needy!joel, pov switch mostly joel (he's down bad as well), collected shitty puns from across the internet like thanos collected the infinity stones

word count: 6,136 words

side note: yk what's worst than simping for old men? simping for old men who don't exist. since y'all know, tlou II trailer dropped, which got me searching for joel's ***** to brace/prepare myself. umm so, why did no one tell me jackson!joel is the hottest thing ever? can´t wait to see pedro being senior citizen level of hot and dying (again) on his bday month! 😍 anyway, this is based on this request and well, yes! i too would flirt with an old ass if he looked like that™ hope u like it bc for some reason I'm not sure of it JSJDLKDFK also 400 followers GUYS STOP (pls don't) IT'S TOO MUCH (give me more) HELP!=="))??! (that i do need tysm)

The truth is simple: you hate working.

An apocalypse later, you figure there are more important things. But on Jackson, it feels like the world before fungus and violence, and everyone's got a role to play. As the daughter of Tipsy Bison's owner, yours is to help around the bar, something no matter how much your dad scolds you, you don't seem to care enough to even do a decent job.

Of course, it could be worse: patroling, keeping the cattle or crops, but not even then you're moved enough to give a shit about it.

Enter Joel Miller.

He, who made sure his arrival in Jackson didn't go unnoticed, making heads turn at it, not only because of his emotional reunion with Tommy, the little girl with him, or the fact that he left yet still returned. But also (mainly to you) because he was hot. Very hot.

Joel was the type of handsome that was rough in the edges, his closed-off demeanor and overall mystery adding to the thrill. His face seemed to be in a perpetual state of grief and darkness, sprinkled with grey and wrinkles, that in your opinion, didn't mean about age but just something that made his features all the more attractive.

It was a lie to say there weren't any boys your age in Jackson, good-looking too, yet you felt yourself gravitate towards Joel's musky presence. Yes, he could be your dad, but again, it's the apocalypse, and there are plenty of things to worry about than some age gap.

That doesn't stop the talking, anyway. It may be the end of the world, but gossip is just like cockroaches: it never dies.

The Tipsy Bison owner's daughter is in love with Tommy's older, much older, brother.

It didn't bother you, thought. You were pretty open about it, giving Jackson more to talk. Whenever Joel arrived at the bar, all heads would turn in your direction, ready for the shameless flirting and compliments you showered the oldest Miller in.

Maria had warned you, of course. She was the closest you had to a friend―sometimes being like a big sister, and she seemed to know what he was up to before, at the QZ in Boston, thanks to Tommy. Safe to say, you didn't care, despite listening to every word she had said.

Joel could break your heart, yet in a dying world, you weren't afraid to live.

Which is why now, as he enters the bar, you offer your dad to take his place.

"Go rest, I'll take this client" you offer with kindness, but he knows better. You're his daughter: in the end of the day, he's aware Joel is here, your shift in attitude warning him about Miller's incoming presence.

"If you will take this client, take the rest too" and before your dad can throw a speech about everyone being equal in Jackson, you're accepting to do the job properly, despite your grumbling and lack of interest to anyone who isn't Joel.

"Joel" you greet as soon as he sits, one of the many flirty smiles you have for him only adorning your face. He nods, avoiding your eyes that look at him like he could give you the world. He can't, so he keeps focused on the glass you're pouring in front of him.

"See? Didn't even need to ask. I already know" you seem proud of it, and the ghost of a smile brushes his lips.

"Well" he raises the glass, "it's an easy drink"

You feign hurt, "is that how you treat your bartender? I could poison your drink" Joel now truly smiles, knowing you could never, "or I could just strip you of your my favorite customer rights"

Now he feigns hurt, playing along for the first time in ever.

"Copied" he raises his arms in surrender, not before taking a gulp. You watch hypnotized the way his adam's apple bobs, the liquid sliding down his throat until it looses itself in the peak his two buttons undone give, of what looks to be a broad soft upper body, blessed with a patch of greying messy hair.

"Have they ever complimented you before, Joel?"

You. He refrains from answering, scared as to where little encouraging had led you and your shameless mouth to. He can feel the rest of the people behind him whispering, holes burning his neck. He can't let you win again: make him seem a pathetic excuse of a man who can't say no to a sweet doe-eyed delusional girl.

But you don't stop, despite his silence and the growing pit on your stomach.

"I'll take that as a no. Wanna know why?" he takes a much needed sip, "because all the good pick-up lines are taken"

This he can handle, Joel thinks. It's silly, proper of your age-

"But you aren't"

Ah, of course. Hasn't he learned?

You have the nerve to laugh, free as a wind chime softly carresed by the wind. His face burns, and even thought he's heard plenty of worse from you ("No pen, no paper but you still draw my attention", "Well, here I am. What are your other two wishes?" "You must be a dog person because you look fetching"), nothing had affected him this much.

Which is why he tries to pull the mask that had accompanied him since he first knew what grief was, so no feeling would ever made him weak again in a world hardened with pain. He's so good at it, wearing it like a second skin that doesn't scrub off no matter how much he wastes Jackson's water supply away, he sometimes sees the way your face is crestfallen at his indifference.

But you're young and stubborn, as so was he, before all the suffering and broken dreams.

So you won't listen to the past or doubts: the moment he stepped a foot into the community, you knew it was over, beating so loud you could barely hear your own breathing or him, when Maria introduced you and he shook your hand with his much bigger one.

"Joel" he'd said, with the sexiest voice you'd ever heard. His hands were covered in gloves, but despite that and the cold winter, the warmth that pooled from his palms had spread across your cheeks and chest. It had taken you a while to realize you hadn't said anything.

"Y/n" you hate the way your voice sounded small.

He nods, a way of saying Nice to meet you in his withdrawn nature. Then walks away, with Tommy and the girl, who looks curiously at you, Joel completely oblivious of how he's just turned your world upside down.

"Welcome to the museum!" you had said.

He tilted his head in confusion, Ellie's stare intense. "I thought this' Jackson?"

"This is a museum, because you're a work of art"

The tip of his ears instantly reddened, and the laugh Ellie was containing bursted like a bottle of champagne.

"Look at you, old man!" she laughed at him, making you wonder their relationship and how closer they seemed to be, despite initial assumptions. "Can't believe a girl gets the big, grumpy, scary Miller to blush like a boy"

You think that's the reason behind his apathy towards you, barely reacting to your pick-up lines or "subtle" flirting. It's probably not a reason as childish as that, but you'd rather be wrong than accept he may never feel the same way you do.

Because for a moment, despite the times you lived in, life made sense.

So no matter the stares, Joel's guarded posture and lack of reciprocation, you'll always be there, waiting: riding the roller coaster, enjoying the high.

The speed brings you closer, even if that means you'll crash.

Unfortunately for Joel, he knows who you are.

He's not even ten patrolling jobs closer to owning a bottle of whiskey of his own (he thinks earning it is bullshit, hasn't he done already enough?), so he's forced to go to the only place where he can get it.

And of course, there's you: a name and face he couldn't place upon his arrival, even if you had introduced yourself with your shitty line (which made him blush and Ellie laugh, so maybe it was a grudge what made him bent on removing you from his head) yet now is ingraned into his mind.

He doesn't know what's worst: your flirting or the fact that you seemed genuine about it. Or maybe it's the fact that he can tell you apart from the rest now, with a face full of life, always ready to give him your best smile and serve his glass the way he likes.

He needs to be the bigger person in this mess and stop it, Joel thinks. He isn't one to care about the talking, years of being brutal hiding any possible feeling that isn't rage. But then Ellie smuggled her way in his life, he found Tommy again, and Jackson was a reminder of old days when he would allow himself to feel anything else. So, in a way, he's become a bit susceptible to the talking behind his back.

How could he entertain a girl that could be his daughter? hushed, behind his stool. But then your fingers brush "accidentally", and his dick twitches between his legs when you bite your lip, pronouncing a Sorry like no one has said before: a tone so low and sultry, he's convinced wasn't even possible. Then you bat your eyelashes, and laugh (a sound both as delightful as addictive) before you're saying: "Don't mind them. They're just jealous you've got all my attention" and for a brief second, Joel let's himself believe he's special and worth of your time.

It's now a while since he's been there in Jackson, slowly settling into a life that doesn't involve running and fear.

If he thought your little crush was a phase, he's wrong.

You're still giving him time.

He's not supposed to get attached to you, Ellie, Tommy and Maria (future nephew in the way) more than enough. But then, when he's alone in a house too big for two people, Joel misses the way your loud voice fills the eerie silence that's followed him since death has been tracking his every step. Or how your interest on his life doesn't seem an act, listening to every word he says with tender eyes and soft smile, sometimes even making the effort of bringing things he's said before into new conversations; remembering. His heart flutter at your compliments, no matter how dumb they are, probably because he's not used to that stuff. As he lays awake at night, brain clogged with wounds too deep to bear, he finds comfort in things he has a feeling he's too old to get worked up about.

"Joel" you had said one day. God, he loved his name on your lips. The way you say it so sure, as if you'd follow him wherever he'd go.

He coughs. "Yeah?" and you smile, because at least he's looking in your direction.

"The chance of meeting a person like you is the only reason I talk to strangers"

The way your tone was straight, not flinching or faltering scared him. How something akin to sincerity dancing in the sparkles of your eyes, that now seemed to waver not out of whimsy but out of vulnerability, perfectly hidden in what could pass as another one of your attempts to woo him, but Joel's lived and seen enough to know it means much more.

So now, whenever there's darkness, he finds light on replaying those small moments on his head.

Dear God. What's he become? Ellie can't find out or he'll never hear the end of it.

But this things you don't know. All you see is a wall, and you're getting tired of hitting it.

The few words he spares your way are now a punishment you endure, cruel reminder that it's all you'll ever get.

Could you be in love forever? Could you even love?

It was a new feeling. Foreign, in fields of inexperience, but familiars in others. You may have never felt it, but the way your beat was steady when he showed up, worn out boots against the wood creaking under his weight, makes you believe when you know, you know.

"Hello, Joel" your father greets before you speak. Today, no matter how much you tried to shoo him away, he stayed.

You send a small smile his way, but he doesn't return it. You feel small, like a kid, undeserving of his attention. There's a bit of relief knowing your dad's there, so you let him take Joel for you.

There's always a first, and when both your dad and Joel notice, the latter feels a little sting on his chest.

But he's caused this, he thinks. It's what he wanted, after all: for you to stop chasing a man with scars in and out, bearing sins and blood where you had innocence and love.

"We're having a party tonight" he comments, making Joel quirk an eyebrow as he sips.

He gives you a brief glimpse, lost in the curve of your ass in those tight jeans, you giving him your back. He dryly scoffs on instinct at your deliberate choice to ignore him.

"Why's that?"

"My daughter's birthday"

He sees your body tense in the corner of his eye, wiping the glass in your hand with a bit too much force.

"Happy birthday" Joel speaks up, and you mutter a weak Thanks.

That's all he gets? No smile, no looking his way. Just a dry thank you that sounds more like something he would say.

Oh.

Was this how you felt?

"Time sure flies by" your dad sighs nostalgic, completely oblivious to the whole thing. "I feel if it was yesterday we came home from the hospital with you"

You smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes, despite the obvious adoration for your dad.

"Don't get sappy on me" you sound embarrassed.

"I don't care. Twenty-one years later and an apocalypse in the mix, you're still my baby"

"Dad!" your cheeks heat up, and Joel almost forgets he's there, his body back to life when your face goes back to its normal color and happiness.

"Which means" your dad goes back to Joel, "you're invited"

Your laughter dies and Joel's chest tightens.

"You need to stop saying that. All Jackson is invited" you respond, making him flinch. The bite is obvious.

You're not special, is what you try to say in between lines.

"I'll be there" tone daring, and your father feels something has shifted in the air.

You don't answer after that. What are you supposed to say? Don't come? I hate you for making me feel small? He doesn't owe you anything, but it still hurts.

"It's at seven" there's a sharp edge to your tone when looking at him.

"I'll be there" he repeats, still, but it sounds more like who he really is trying to convince is himself.

Joel is there, as promised. You don't know why, but after what happened earlier, for the first time ever, seeing him brings you dread.

He catches you in a corner, sipping on some drink.

"Hi" it's soft, the tone new, and it doesn't help the pit in your stomach.

"Hey"

"Why are you here?" he's curious., "ain't this supposed to be your party?"

It's funny, really. The way everyone else mingles around you, laugh and talk, yet here you are, bitter inside the shadows of your corner.

You raise your glass and chuckle dryly. "Well, cheers to that"

"You shouldn't be here" he insists, and you roll your eyes. Then, his voice goes soft. "Is... Is this because of me?"

You scoff, venom falling out of your bitter laugh. "Wow, big ego you got there. Newsflash: the world doesn't revolve around you"

He's so used to your pinning, it's hard to bear the change.

"I wasn't saying that, I just-"

"Please don't" you cut him off. "Don't ruin my birthday more than you already have, thanks"

You decide to walk away, but Joel won't let you.

"I don't want that" he insists, blocking your steps. "I want you to be happy"

"Don't bullshit me" your tone is icy, cutting like daggers. "Please, leave me alone"

"Not until you're fine"

You scoff at his incomprehensible behavior.

"Oh, now you care? Drop the act; you're just angry I'm not stroking your ego anymore like a lovesick puppy. Truth is, you don't owe me anything, Joel"

He looks like you've slapped him across his face.

"I know" his voice darkens, filled with tension. "But-"

You get tired at Joel's sudden insistence, overwhelming you with confusion. This is the same guy that has uttered less than fifty words your way, indifferent to your flirting and special treatment. Of course, it may have been a little silly of you to expect so much from a guy older even than your dad, but his apathy was borderline rude, and that you can't excuse. Or understand. Or let go.

So yes, you're being petty. And yes, it also feels good to have him begging to have your attention, the roles reversed.

"But what, Joel? Is there anything you can say, really? It's not that serious" you empty the glass in a chug, feeling dizzy. "Live a little and stop being so obssesed with me"

He shoots you a look hard to decipher. There is hurt: from all the emotions available, he chose the one thing you didn't think he'd be capable of feeling. Hell, he looked rather more like the cause than the affected on the other end. But then auburn fires flash behind his eyes, and the circle repeats itself, the danger and rage Maria warned you about.

"Obssesed with you?" his eyes carry a wild light in them. "If anyone is obssesed, well, it ain't me"

"I need air" you push past him, done with his shit.

"I'm sorry-"

The cold wind hits your face as you storm outside the bar. Is this a lesson to be learnt? Was this how heartbreak felt? The only thing you know is you need to get the farthest you can, even if your footsteps feel heavy with the weight of the snowed streets and frigidness of your heart.

"Y/n, wait!"

You turn around. Unbelievable: Joel Miller is running after you.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Joel?!" you shout, "why can't you just leave me alone?!"

"Because I-"

"There's nothing for you to say" you counter, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "If this is some sort of guilt thing, I need you to let it go. What I did- I mean, you should probably forget about the whole thing. It's my fault, and I'm sorry my reaction is immature and what not, but I should've known to read the signs. You're simply not interested in a girl who hasn't truly lived or known what pain is"

After you confession, you hear a laugh. You raise your eyes, anger and hurt flashing in tears.

"And you have the nerve to fucking laugh?! Fuck you, Joel" you want to walk away to save yourself from further embarrasment yet your feet seem to be stuck.

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm not interested?" you roll your eyes, but he pins you by your shoulders, as if knowing you'd walk away. "Listen, I need you to know somethin': I'm not who you think I am"

"I don't care" you interrupt, defiant. "You're right, I don't know who you are. But I want to. Who you where outside this walls... It doesn't matter, not to me. You did what you had to do to survive, and that brought you here. Jackson... think of it as a second chance. You can still be happy, you know?"

With me, dies in your throat, not wanting to give more of yourself away.

"It's better this way" Joel insists, "hell, you'll even thank me one day. There's plenty of young boys here who'd love to be with you, trust me"

"I don't want them, Joel. What's so hard to understand?" what makes you get closer to him, you don't know, but in a sudden rush of force, you find the courage to look at him, body standing still as you exhale, fears condense in the air. "I only want you"

"You don't" you should roll your eyes again at his stubborn character, but his voice comes out so small, almost as if resignated, that it tugs your chest.

"I do" you reply firmly, cupping his cheek with tender care. He leans in your touch, despite it revealing his true desires when it comes to you.

"Why me?" Joel whispers, bigger hand covering yours, as to prove it's real and the warmth isn't a joke. "Why not a younger, charmin', happy boy your age? Why a broken violent older man?"

His voice breaks after the admission, quietly seeping into heavy silence that falls like the snowflakes in his hair.

"Joel" you call his name softly, making those sad brown eyes look at you. You gulp, nervous at the storm of emotions inside them, "is it so hard to believe you can be loved?"

Your words make him falter, his grip loosing strength as he tumbles back.

"Love?" he repeats with disbelief, as if you'd just say some kind of tale. "There isn't love in this world left for me. Men like me don't deserve good things, especially if they comin' from a pretty girl as yourself"

You shouldn't be blushing at times like this, but the maroon splash on your cheeks betrays you, warm as the drink from before and red as the dim lights casted by Jackson's Christmas tree in the middle of the town.

"Joel" you call again, and he's surprised you're still there. That you hadn't turn your back on him, or looked into his eyes and saw the monster in him, running away to never come back.

"If you let me" you hold his hands to steady him even as they tremble, "I could"

I could love you.

The promise hangs unspoken in the air, the wind now barely above a humming.

"You'd take me" his voice falters, "with all I've done, knowing I've hurted people?" Killed people, but he can't bring himself to say it when you look at him like that: like he could learn to love you.

"Yes" your voice doesn't waver a bit, "every part of you"

"And you'd take me knowin' that I'm years ahead in hurt, age and life?"

"Yes, Joel" you giggle. "Are you making me do an exam on your life? Because that's not fair, you've barely spoken to me, or anyone else for the matter!"

He chuckles, shaking his head.

"I s'ppose life ain't fair, sometimes"

"But it could be" the moonlight of the now clear sky shines over your eyes, and Joel is sure that the stars would be jealous.

"It could" he repeats, as to believe it himself.

Silence settles again, but it doesn't feel suffocating anymore.

"You know, we should probably get inside"

You dissmiss his words. "Nobody has even noticed we're gone"

"What about the cake?"

Your chest feels warm at his concern. He may not believe it, but the old-world Joel, the one who was a contractor in Texas and had a daughter, is still there, somewhere.

"Jackson is real, but miracles not" you laugh, "we don't have those. The party really is just an excuse for dad to drink with his friends during labor hours"

"And yours?" Joel inquires, "where your friends at?"

"Left early" then you lean to his ear, hot where skin meets cold. "I told them to"

He tries, but all words die on his throat.

"Wanna know why I did it?" your fingers wander to his tense jawline, tracing your sharp nails until they descent to his neck, sprinkled with loose hairs from his beard.

"Why?" voice barely above a whisper, his cock painfully hard between his legs. That you don't know: just the glint of dark on his hazel eyes.

"Why don't we find out?" and your hand takes his to lead the way. When he doesn't move, you try other way.

"I'm the birthday girl" you tease softly, but your orbs sparkle with something akin to dangerous. "You better make it up to me"

You've walked this road so many times, yet it's never felt longer.

The house is alone, you'd say, and Joel followed you because well, he'd follow you anywhere. He notices you said 'house', an indicator you still live with your parents. He wonders if you're embarrased, but by the way you smile, inviting him inside, to a part of you intimate and unknown until today, he knows he's chosen right.

When you open the door, cold creeps in through the cracks of warmth. You lead the way to your room, and once you're inside, he thinks it's very you.

"Very me?" you giggle, taking a seat in the bed. Joel watches from the doorframe, his bulky arms crossed. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's cute" and you think it's not a frequent word in his vocabulary, thanks to the pink dusting his cheeks.

"I'm cute?" you repeat delighted, and the shade of pink turns darker.

He just nods, avoiding your gaze.

"Joel" you call, then pat the spot next to you "why are you so far away? Are you scared?"

He grumbles something under his breath before walking over to where you showed. The bed creaks under his weight, and now that he's closer, you hear the wavering beat of his heart and ragged breaths.

"You are scared" you repeat, a statement now. He thinks you're mocking him, until your sure hand grabs his. "It's okay"

Before he can add on that, your face is too close, your breath tickling over his nose. He feels the moist of your lips press over the brigde of it, with a tenderness that brings ghosts of tears he has since long shade to his eyes.

Then they smoothly move to catch him in a kiss. He lets out a shaky gasp against your mouth, letting himself loose on the whiskey drops inside, an intoxicating mix against his own. His hands find your waist, gripping the soft skin with calloused fingers, refusing to leave it. He squeezes your curves while infiltrating your mouth with his tongue, until he pulls to breath, making you whine.

"Fuck, sweetheart" he nips your lower lip, "ain't you the sweetest thin' to ever exist?"

The kiss gets more heated, his hands now traveling to your face as they hold onto you for support, rough digits meeting peachy skin. Just the mere act of kissing makes him groan against you, too old to be shameful about the needy sounds coming out of his mouth.

"Joel" you whimper his name. He stops and takes the time to bore his gaze over your flushed face, your own dazed eyes mirroring his.

His fingers find their way to your hips again, pulling you closer. The moment caughts you and the bed off guard, the furniture creaking while your eyes move to the hardness visible on his worn-out jeans. You move your head to free your mouth to talk, but that doesn't stop Joel, who hungrily kisses the trace of your jaw and the road starting in your neck and finishing on your collarbones.

"Is that because of me?" Joel whines against your lips, yet you can't stop staring at the very big silhouette. "Oh, happy birthday to me"

Joel whines when you tear way from him, his hands loosing grasp on your body. You move up against the headboard, spreading your legs for him to put himself in between them.

You take off your clothes, and his eyes don't leave your body as if it's a show for him. He can drool at the sight of your breasts, rosy skin waiting for his tongue and teeth to sink on it. He leans closer, eyes looming at moles he could beg to kiss.

Now you, your expectant eyes plea. Joel's posture adquires a guarded air, as he grows self-conscious.

"Stop staring at me like that" he nervously chuckles.

"Is there something wrong?" your sweet voice inquires, laced with concern. He gulps, kind of afraid and embarrased of what you would say.

"I'm..." his voice comes out strained, "I just-"

His mind briefly wanders to Tess, how she never said anything, rather busy seeking the warmth of his body without commenting about it. The act mattered over the feelings, which where in her eyes but not his heart. But now, his heart beats in a different sound, one where he wishes you won't judge a body crossed with the roughness of scars yet the softness of extra weight.

"M' just warnin' you, doll" the nickname brings butterflies in your stomach, "this body's seen better days"

He removes the layers of clothing: flannel first, and then tight white long sleeved shirt. He's left in his jeans, unbuckling his belt that falls to the floor with a thud. His breathing turns to panting, afraid to meet you in the eye.

"Joel" you repeat his name, bringing him back to reality. "Look at me"

He's killed people, faced raiders as much as infected, and other countless things, so he dares himself to look up, breath hitching when he finds you eating him with your eyes.

"Fuck, Joel. I didn't know you were so pretty under those dirty ass flannels"

You knew he'd be handsome; that's literally the reason why you chose to flirt with him. But now that he's completely stripped off his layers of warm clothing, it's even better. You can't stop your hungry eyes from roaming his body, lingering on the soft swell of his stomach, hanging over the waistband of his underwear. A scar that looks deep is near his belly button, and you wonder if he'll ever tell you why. There's a patch of hair over his soft chest your tongue wants to lick. And of course, his strong arms packed with broad shoulders that make you want to scream.

"Stop lying" he chastises, but there's a smile adorning his features. A true smile on Joel fucking Miller's face. What a rare sight; you need to see it more.

"W-where your condoms?" he asks, nervous.

That catches you off guard, too busy cooing over how a man so big and sturdy could fold that easily, looking and sounding small.

"I'm not sure. I mean, maybe on my parents room but I-"

You cut yourself. Joel's concerned gaze finds you. "Yes?"

"I want you, Joel" the intensity of your stare terrifies him. "All of you"

He falls closer to you, forehead against your own. He can't bring himself to look at you, so he closes his eyes and dares to ask:

"Are you sure you want this?"

Are you sure you want me?

"Don't you trust me?" you're all smiles, even if your voice is soft. "I want you. I truly do"

He's hiding his face into your shoulder until you feel his lips pressing against your now bare skin, making you shiver.

"Where you want me, birthday girl?" he says between kisses. "Tell me, sweetheart. I'm all ears"

"Please, Joel" you unhook your bra, letting your breasts free. His lips begin to kiss his way to your breasts, tongue teasing the skin before nipping it. Joel's teeth catch the hardened nipple, grazing it lightly.

"S'pretty" he sounds drunk, and you love the way he looses himself in the pleasure haze.

He continues kissing your breasts before positioning himself right so he can hover above you. The kisses turn wet and sloppier, as if all his energy was to be spent into the rosy skin.

"Can I taste you, sweetheart?" he lowers his head to your entrance, already soaking wet with your arousal. "Fuck me, if this ain't a meal"

"The best in all Jackson" you joke, but the laugh dies in your throat when Joel's nose ghosts over your throbbing pussy.

"I- fuck, Joel" you moan when he licks your folds, his tongue an expert. For a brief moment, you think of who came before you, and if this is what they got or you're getting the best version. His saliva mixes with your dripping juices, making you whine as his tongue licks your swollen folds. His fingers then slowly inserted themselves inside at the same time, moving in and out of your puffy walls. His groans mix with the sound of your whines and the furniture creaking, the sounds obscene and feeling so far from the outside world.

"You're so good at this, baby" his sweat mixes with the blush on his face because of the nickname, nose pressed against your clit as he keeps up the ministrations. "D-don't stop"

"This pussy's so pretty" he says, "and s'only for me, yeah?"

"Yes, Joel. Only yours" you whine, your orgasm approaching. All of your body feels on fire, every touch inching the burn in your stomach closer as his head remains between your legs, tongue insatiable. You come all over his face, your hands digging into his damp locks as you scream his name to the air.

Joel raises his head to capture your lips on a wet kiss, the taste of you inside your mouth and dripping from his coated beard.

"Ain't you sweet" you open your legs further. "You're such a tease, sweetheart. Gon'be the death of me"

"I just like seeing you like this" you admit.

"Means?"

"So fucking needy"

A borderline primal grumble births from his throat. "You've a filthy mouth on you, sweetheart" he chuckles while wrapping your legs around his waist and lining himself up. Joel's tip runs up and down your folds, grazing your clit long enough to make you gasp.

"And you're s'fuckin' tight" he mumbles under his breath. You gasp for air as you try to adjust yourself to the huge size of his girth, afraid you bit more than what you can chew. His pace starts slow but gradually picks up a rougher and quicker pace. Joel grunts between thrusts, yet takes his time to make sure his lips kiss every mole sprinkled across your face and chest, his favorite just above your left eyebrow.

"I want ya' to come first, like a present" blush crosses through his face again. He leaves teasing kisses against your face, as you wail, finally hitting you.

"I'll wait for you" you whisper, your hips aiding you to sustain his sloppy thrusts, "want you to come too. Inside"

You feel his softening dick twitch, suddenly rock hard again. Oh, so he was into that.

"Don't worry, I have a pill" you explain. "So go ahead, pretty boy. Show me if the size matches the talk"

"Bet" his voice acquires a darkness to it. "Gonna fill you with all of it, until you milk my cock dry. Gonna fill this pretty pussy until it's full of my seed and it leaks for days"

He follows right after, groaning into your shoulder, where he bits the skin. His tongue wets the area, to relief the pain, yet you like it. Thick ropes of cum paint your puffy heat creamy, Joel panting as he stares down at you.

"What?" you chuckle.

Maybe Jackson was a safe haven. Heaven incarnate. Maybe second chances were real, and for the first time in years, he feels safe.

"I don't deserve you" he voices his thoughts, forehead pressed against yours as he tries to even his breathing, yet each breath seems more labored than the last.

Your hands travel to his face, cupping it with tender hands. He leans on the touch, because despite his crimes and past dawning upon him, he's a man: one seeking comfort on a pretty face and anything that'll remind him of distant emotions that can still exist despite what the world has become. Joel's hands travel to yours, thumb brushing skin free of scars and pain. He envies and loves the beauty in your face, eyes full of something akin to affection looking back, blurring the pain mirrored on his own. You kiss him again, and he can feel the emotions in the tip of your tongue.

"You're wrong" your voice holds a quiet determination. Time was a precious gift, but in Jackson, time could be, and the resolve longing tells him you'll be there. I'm not going anywhere, Joel. Not without you. "We all deserve love, Joel"

Joel Miller is a man who finds it hard to trust, yet, when he takes a look at your eyes―warm as coffee, he allows himself to believe in you.