#they popped up on my Pinterest next to each other so you know I had to do it

[darlingpeasant]

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

𝑺𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑴? 𝑶𝒓 𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎? (Kinktober special) (J.M)

⤷Credits: Pinterest

Pornstar!Joel Miller x F!Reader | WC : 9.4k | Proof Read : YES | Navigation | Notifications | Kinktober Request list | Kinktober Masterlist | asks : OPEN

Summary: He hunts you through the shadows, every sick, voyeuristic moment immortalized on camera. But it's not just fear coursing through you—your most depraved desires awaken when he finally closes in and takes what he's been watching from afar.

Warnings : dub-con themes, making of porn, voyeurism (making porn and having sex for an audience), toys, role-playing, stalking, power dynamics, cat and chase, spanking choking, knife play, manhandling, praise, dirty talk, degrading, oral M!, breeding kink, fear, mask kink, VERY ROUGH, KINKY AND DARK

A/N: When I say this has been sitting in my drafts for a LONGGG TIME, I'm not lying. I loved this idea, and I hope you guys love it just as much. Thank you so much to my lovely mutuals who listened to me yap and yap about this for almost two months. I'm so sorry I haven't been active. I'm a teaching assistant, and life is wild.

You stood in the kitchen, trying hard not to glance at the camera perched atop the microwave. Its red recording light blinked steadily, reminding you that every move, every breath, was being captured. The sound of popcorn popping on the stove filled the silence of the house, a comforting rhythm in the eerie stillness. The blue tint of the night, barely enough to see by, blended with the dim candlelight scattered around the room, creating a shadowy, unsettling atmosphere. It was the perfect setting for what was about to go down, and you had to keep your composure, fighting back the grin that threatened to spread across your lips.

This wasn’t just any night. This was the fall special for Sinning Sinners, the site that you and Joel had built from the ground up. It wasn’t your usual shoot where you’d just pull out a camera, fuck each other’s brains out, and call it a day. No, this was something more—something you both lived for, something that had become a tradition, an annual ritual that made your fans lose their fucking minds. Every fall, you and Joel took things up a notch, diving headfirst into the darker, kinkier side of your fantasies. It wasn’t just about sex; it was about pushing boundaries, about blending fear and desire until the line between them blurred into something that made your audience addicted.

Last year, you’d done a haunted corn maze, where Joel had fucked you right in the middle of it, surrounded by the rustling stalks and the cool night air. You could still feel the roughness of the corn beneath your hands, still hear the way you’d moaned like a slut as Joel took you in that eerie, isolated field. The memory alone made heat pool between your legs, a filthy reminder of how wild it had been, how much your fans had eaten it up. They’d gone crazy for it, the combination of fear and lust driving them to hit replay again and again. That’s what Sinning Sinners was all about—giving them something they couldn’t get anywhere else, something that made them come back for more, desperate for whatever twisted shit you and Joel would come up with next.

It had started with a late-night viewing of Scream. The room was dark except for the flickering light of the TV, casting eerie shadows across Joel’s face as you watched the familiar scenes unfold. You’d both seen it countless times, but something about that night felt different—charged. Joel’s hand rested on your thigh, his grip tightening with every kill, every chase, his eyes never leaving the screen.

When the credits rolled, he turned to you, his expression unreadable for a moment before that spark of twisted inspiration flickered in his eyes. “You know,” he started, his voice low and deliberate, “we’ve never done anything with Ghostface before.” There was a pause, the air between you thick with the weight of his words. “What if…this year, we take it further? Darker, dirtier. You could be the clueless victim, and I could be him. Stalking you, making you wait until I’m ready to strike.”

The second he mentioned it, your heart skipped a beat, excitement rushing through your veins. You could picture it already—Joel in the mask, his voice taunting you through the fabric, the thrill of being hunted, knowing what was coming but not when. It was perfect. The embodiment of fear and lust, wrapped in a twisted, beautiful package

The house was quiet, save for the rhythmic popping of kernels on the stove. You focused on the mundane task, pouring the popcorn into a bowl as the salty scent filled the air, trying to keep your cool. But it wasn’t easy. The night was thick with tension, the kind you could almost taste, like the first touch of a lover’s hand. You knew Joel was out there, somewhere in the darkness, watching you with those predatory eyes, waiting for his cue. It was all part of the game—the unspoken thrill of knowing you were being hunted, of playing dumb when you were anything but.

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to glance out the window. You’d agreed not to look, not to break character, even though every instinct screamed at you to check, to catch a glimpse of him lurking in the shadows. Instead, you turned your attention to the DVD shelf, your fingers brushing over the spines of the old horror movies. The camera, placed discreetly beside it, was rolling, capturing the subtle tremor in your hands, the way your breath hitched when you thought about what was coming. You grabbed a classic—something with blood, screams, and just the right amount of tension—and turned your back to the camera, giving the viewers a perfect shot of the darkened window behind you. They’d be watching, waiting, knowing exactly what was coming even if you were supposed to be oblivious.

You carried the bowl and the DVD down the hallway, the soft creak of the floorboards beneath your feet adding to the tension. The house felt alive, every shadow shifting as you passed as if it were in on the game. Your thoughts wandered to what was waiting in the bedroom, not just the TV and blankets, but also the props and toys you’d stashed away earlier. A black silk blindfold, a sleek vibrator, a collection of menacingly gleaming, faux weapons—everything was set, just in case things took a darker turn. The details mattered, after all.They were what made Sinning Sinners so addictive. The unpredictability, the raw, unfiltered lust that seeped into every frame, every shot. You never planned the sex, only the build-up—the suspense, the tension that made it all so fucking good.

You reached your bedroom, setting the DVD case on the dresser before catching sight of yourself in the mirror. You paused, taking in the reflection—a girl who looked sweet and innocent, but whose eyes held darker secrets. The oversized Scream shirt you wore hung just low enough to brush the tops of your thighs, barely covering the black lace panties beneath. It was the perfect look for what was coming next, just enough innocence to make the chase all the more thrilling.

You reached your bedroom, setting the DVD case on the dresser before catching sight of yourself in the mirror. You paused, taking in the reflection—a girl who looked sweet and innocent, but whose eyes held darker secrets. The oversized Scream shirt you wore hung just low enough to brush the tops of your thighs, barely covering the black lace panties beneath. It was the perfect look for what was coming next, just enough innocence to make the chase all the more thrilling.

You grabbed the old-school camera from the nightstand, the one you loved for its Y2K aesthetic, and snapped a quick photo. The flash momentarily blinded you, and you knew this shot would have to be carefully edited out of the final cut, but when your vision cleared, the result was exactly what you wanted. A keepsake, a little reminder of the night and the game you were about to play.

Finally, you settled into bed, propping yourself up against the pillows as the movie started to play. The flickering light from the TV cast eerie shadows across the room, heightening the tension. You let yourself get lost in it for a moment, the familiar scenes of blood and screams playing out on the screen, a reflection of the chaos that would soon unfold in your own home. But your mind wasn’t on the movie. It was on Joel, on the darkness creeping closer, on the game you’d both set in motion.

And then, you heard it—a faint creak, barely audible over the sound of the movie. But it was enough. Your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat as you strained to listen. Another sound followed, this one more distinct, coming from the living room. The cue. It was time.

You slid out of bed, the cool air kissing your bare legs as you padded toward the door. Every step was deliberate, every movement calculated to match the growing tension. You were supposed to be scared, after all. You were supposed to be the clueless girl in the horror movie, the one who heard a noise and just had to investigate. It was cliché, but that was the point. The audience would be yelling at their screens, telling you to stay put, but you knew better. You knew exactly what was coming.

The living room was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the floor as you slowly entered. The popcorn bowl from earlier sat untouched on your dresser, a silent reminder of the night’s buildup. Your eyes drifted to the window, where the curtains fluttered ever so slightly, caught by a breeze you hadn’t noticed before. You tried to ignore the unsettling chill that crept up your spine, but you couldn’t help but notice the faint movement just outside—a hint of something, or someone, lurking in the darkness.

But you felt it. You felt him.

You took a hesitant step forward, your eyes scanning the room as if you were searching for the source of the sound. The anticipation was electric, sending shivers down your spine. Then, from the corner of your eye, you saw it—the flicker of movement, the unmistakable shape of a figure slipping into the room. You turned, just in time to see him, clad in black, the Ghostface mask gleaming in the dim light.

Your heart leaped into your throat as he lunged at you. You yelped, more out of excitement than fear, and bolted toward the kitchen. Your bare feet slapped against the hardwood as you ran, the thrill of the chase making your pulse race. You knew he was right behind you, could feel his presence like a shadow closing in.

The kitchen was dark, lit only by the faint glow of candles. You skidded to a stop, chest heaving as you spun around to face him. There he was, just a few feet away, the knife in his hand catching the light as he approached. The sight of him, the menace in his slow, deliberate steps, sent a delicious thrill through you.

You backed up against the counter, feeling the cool edge press into your lower back as Joel closed in on you. The Ghostface mask obscured his face, but you knew his eyes were locked on you, hungry, predatory. The thrill of the chase had your heart racing, adrenaline and desire blending into a heady mix that made your skin tingle. You watched as he glanced around the kitchen, his gaze settling on the knife block just within arm’s reach. He didn’t have a weapon with him—of course, he didn’t—but now, as his gloved hand wrapped around the handle of a large kitchen knife, the game took on a sharper, more dangerous edge.

Your breath hitched as he raised the knife, its gleaming blade catching the candlelight. For a split second, you were frozen, caught between the rush of fear and the wave of arousal that flooded your senses. This was what you craved—the danger, the tension, the feeling of being completely at someone else’s mercy. But you weren’t ready to give in just yet.

In a sudden burst of movement, you lifted your foot and stomped down hard on his, the force of it catching him by surprise. Joel grunted, the sound muffled by the mask, and his grip on the knife faltered just enough for you to slip past him. You bolted for the hallway, your heart pounding in your chest as you sprinted toward the bedroom, the thrill of the escape making you lightheaded. You could hear him behind you, his heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet house, getting closer with every second.

You burst into the bedroom and slammed the door behind you, but it barely slowed him down. You knew he was right there, just a heartbeat away. You stumbled back, your legs shaky from the rush, and tripped over the edge of the rug. You went down hard, knees hitting the floor with a jolt of pain that only added to the intensity of the moment. The door crashed open, and there he was, looming in the doorway, the knife still clutched in his hand.

“Please, mister Ghostface,” you whimpered, crawling backward as he advanced on you. “Don’t kill me. I’ll do anything.”

The words tumbled out of your mouth, breathless, desperate, exactly what he wanted to hear. You were playing your role to perfection, the terrified victim begging for her life, but beneath the surface, you were buzzing with anticipation. You knew the script—you knew he wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t break character. The silence was part of the game, part of what made it so thrilling. It kept you on edge, never knowing what he’d do next, never knowing when he’d strike.

You tried to crawl away, but you were trembling too much, your movements slow, uncoordinated. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, the pulse of arousal matching the rhythm of your pounding heart. You knew you should be scared, terrified even, but all you could think about was how fucking turned on you were. Every time you glanced up at that mask, and saw the cold, expressionless eyes staring down at you, it sent another wave of desire crashing through you.

Your hands slipped on the floor as you tried to scramble to your feet, but before you could get far, he was on you. Joel’s hand shot out, grabbing your ankle and dragging you back toward him. You yelped, twisting in his grip, but it was useless. You were caught, and you both knew it. You fell back onto your knees, breath coming in ragged gasps as you looked up at him, eyes wide, pleading.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as you looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading. The air between you was thick with tension, every nerve in your body screaming with anticipation. You knew what was coming, and yet the thrill of it sent shivers down your spine. The Ghostface mask stared back at you, cold and unfeeling, but you knew Joel was beneath it, knew he was savoring this moment as much as you were. The thought made your pulse quicken, the heat between your legs growing more intense with every passing second.

Joel’s grip on your ankle was firm and possessive, and you could feel the strength in his hand as he slowly, deliberately pulled you closer. You tried to resist, to put up a token fight, but it was half-hearted at best. Deep down, you wanted this—wanted him to overpower you, to take control. The struggle only heightened your desire, making your skin tingle with excitement as you were dragged back across the floor.

His gloved hand trailed up your leg, rough leather brushing against your sensitive skin, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. You bit your lip, stifling a moan as his touch grew more suggestive, his fingers grazing the hem of your panties. The sensation was maddening, a teasing reminder of what you craved, what you’d been waiting for all night. You arched your back slightly, pushing into his touch, silently begging for more, but he didn’t give in—not yet.

Instead, he took his time, savoring your helplessness, the way you trembled beneath him. His other hand found its way to your waist, fingers digging into your flesh just enough to make you squirm. He held you there, pinned in place, and the dominance in his grip made your breath hitch, a sharp intake of air that only made you feel more vulnerable, more at his mercy. The knife, still clutched in his other hand, gleamed ominously in the dim light, a silent reminder of the power he held over you.

With a sudden, forceful motion, Joel lifted you by your hips, his strength taking you by surprise as he hoisted you onto the bed. You let out a gasp as your body was flipped, your stomach pressed against the mattress, your ass in the air. The position left you exposed, and vulnerable, and the cool air on your bare skin only heightened the sensation. Your panties clung to you, soaked through with arousal, and the thought of him seeing you like this—desperate, needy—sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

You turned your head to look back at him, the mask still hiding his face, but you knew what was behind it. You knew the look in his eyes, the hunger, the need. It made your heart race, made you want to push him further, to see just how far he’d take it. A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, a hint of defiance in your gaze as you wiggled your hips slightly, teasing him, challenging him.

“What’s the matter, Ghostface?” you taunted, your voice dripping with mock innocence. “You gonna make me beg for it?”

The tension in the room crackled like electricity, your words hanging in the air, daring him to react. You could feel the heat of his stare through the mask, the way his breathing had grown heavier, more deliberate. You were pushing your luck, and you knew it, but that was half the fun. You wanted to see just how far you could go, how much you could provoke him before he snapped.

Joel’s hand tightened on your waist, fingers digging in harder, and you couldn’t suppress the moan that slipped from your lips. The sting of it, the roughness, only added to the ache between your legs, made you grind against the bed in a futile attempt to relieve the pressure building inside you. You wanted him—wanted him to take you, to claim you, to make you his. But he didn’t move, didn’t give you what you were silently pleading for.

Instead, he leaned in close, the knife gliding along the curve of your ass, cold metal sending chills down your spine. You shivered, the sensation both terrifying and thrilling, the line between fear and desire blurring even further. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you—knew this was all part of the game—but that didn’t stop your heart from racing, didn’t stop the pulse of arousal that throbbed between your thighs.

But when he finally spoke, it wasn’t with words. It was with action. His hand left your waist and came down hard on your ass, the sharp smack of it echoing through the room. You gasped, the sudden pain mingling with pleasure, leaving you breathless. It was exactly what you’d been waiting for, that rough, unyielding touch that reminded you who was in control. Your bratty defiance melted away, replaced by a desperate need to please him, to be good for him.

The weight of the bed shifted beneath you, the mattress dipping slightly as Joel moved. You could feel his presence hovering behind you, the tension crackling in the air like a live wire. The anticipation was unbearable, your body thrumming with a desperate need for him. You knew what was coming, could sense the change in the atmosphere, the way the game was evolving into something even more intense.

You closed your eyes, biting your lip as you tried to focus on the sensations coursing through you. The sound of fabric rustling behind you sent a shiver down your spine, the unmistakable sign that Joel was shedding his clothes, leaving only the mask to maintain the illusion. Your heart raced at the thought, your imagination running wild with what he’d do next, how he’d use that control to push you to your limits.

The bed shifted again, and you felt his hands on your hips, rough and demanding as he flipped you over onto your back. Your eyes fluttered open, immediately locking onto the masked face hovering above you. The sight was both terrifying and exhilarating, that blank, soulless expression sending a rush of adrenaline through your veins. The contrast between the mask and the naked body beneath it was a stark reminder of the power dynamics at play, the thrill of surrendering to something dark and unknown.

Before you could react, his hand was on your throat, fingers wrapping around your neck with a possessive grip that made your breath catch. The pressure wasn’t enough to hurt, but it was enough to send a clear message—one of dominance, of control. Your pulse quickened, the thrum of it vibrating against his palm as he leaned in closer, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.

His other hand moved to your mouth, a single finger pressing against your lips in a silent command to stay quiet. The shh motion was simple, but the intensity behind it made your stomach twist with excitement. He didn’t need to speak; his actions said everything, and you were more than willing to follow his lead. You were completely at his mercy, and the thought of what he might do next made your body hum with anticipation.

Your thoughts spiraled in a chaotic mix of desire and anticipation, each passing second tightening the knot of tension inside you. Pinned beneath Joel’s weight, you could feel every beat of his heart, every rise and fall of his chest as he loomed over you, the room closing in, suffocating you in the intensity of the moment. Each breath felt heavier, every second stretching out, the silence amplifying the raw need that pulsed between you like a live wire. Your mind raced, imagining all the ways he might break you—would he drag it out, tease you until you were trembling and desperate, or would he take what he wanted in that dark, primal way that left you aching for more? The uncertainty was maddening, fueling the fire that burned hotter with every second, leaving you trembling beneath him, craving whatever came next.

His hand lingered on your throat, the pressure a warning, a promise of what was to come. But then it shifted, slipping away only to tangle roughly in your hair, yanking your head back with a sharp tug that sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. You gasped, the sting of it igniting something deep inside you, a spark that fanned into a wildfire. His grip tightened, possessive, commanding, and it made your blood hum with anticipation. But before you could even think to protest, to utter a single word, his other hand cracked across your cheek with a sharp, stinging slap. The sound echoed through the room, mingling with your ragged breath, the pain mingling with the heat pooling low in your belly, your body instinctively arching toward him, craving more.

You whimpered, the sound breaking free before you could stop it, a desperate little plea that hung in the air between you. But before you could say more, Joel brought a finger to his lips, signaling you to stay silent. The power in that small gesture sent a shiver down your spine, making you bite down on your lower lip to keep from crying out again. Your mind scrambled, caught between the urge to obey and the desire to push him, to see just how far he’d go to enforce that command.

“Please…,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath, the word laced with the need clawing at you from the inside. “Please, I need—”

His hand snapped out, pressing against your mouth in a firm, silencing grip. The warning was clear: no more words. The message sent a rush of heat straight to your core, leaving you trembling beneath him, your breath hitching as the tension wound tighter. The edge of danger, the unknown, had you teetering on the brink, each second a delicious torture.

His grip on your hair tightened, forcing your head back further, exposing your neck as his hand slid down from your cheek to wrap around your throat again, squeezing just enough to keep you on edge, to remind you who was in control. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the hardness pressing against your thigh, a silent promise of what was to come. When he finally released you, your lips parted on their own, eager and ready, a silent invitation, your body screaming for him, for the release only he could give.

Joel didn’t waste a second. The urgency in his movements was palpable as he shoved his pants down just enough to free himself. Your eyes widened at the sight of him—thick, veined, and already slick with precum. It stood proud and heavy, the tip flushed a deep, angry red, a testament to how badly he needed this, how badly he needed you. The sight of it made your mouth water, every nerve in your body singing with the anticipation of what was coming next. He didn’t bother with teasing, didn’t ease you into it. No, he was done with patience.

With a rough tug on your hair, he pulled your head down, forcing your mouth open as he guided the head of his cock to your lips. The taste of salt hit your tongue, heady and intoxicating, and you opened wider, welcoming him in. He pushed forward, the thick head sliding past your lips, inch by inch, stretching your mouth in the most delicious way. There was no gentleness, no care in his movements—he took what he wanted, and you let him, relishing the way he filled you, the way his cock slid deeper, hitting the back of your throat with a force that made you gag, your eyes watering.

But you didn’t pull back. You leaned into it, taking him as far as you could, the taste of him filling your senses. His hips rocked forward with a steady rhythm, his grip in your hair unyielding as he held you in place, his breathing ragged, chest heaving. Every thrust sent a jolt through you, the sound of your gagging, the wet, vulgar noises your mouth made as it worked around him echoing in the small room. Your hands found his thighs, nails digging in, desperate for something to hold onto as you tried to keep up with the pace he set. You could feel him trembling, his breath hitching as he fucked your mouth, each thrust harder than the last, pushing you to your limits.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, when the burn in your throat became too much, he pulled out abruptly, leaving you gasping for air, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. But there was no reprieve. Joel spun you around, flipping you onto your back with a force that left you breathless, your head spinning. The bed creaked beneath you as he grabbed your hips, lifting you up and positioning you exactly how he wanted—bent over the edge of the bed, your ass in the air, your face pressed into the cool sheets. The position was humiliating and degrading, and it only made you want him more. You could feel the bruises forming where his fingers dug into your skin, the pain a sharp contrast to the pleasure that thrummed through you, making your body tremble with need.

He wasted no time, no gentle caress—just pure, unfiltered need. His cock nudged against your entrance, the wetness there making it easy for him to slide in. The stretch was exquisite, each inch of him filling you in a way that made your toes curl, your back arching as you tried to take more, to feel more. He went slow at first, almost teasing, just enough to drive you crazy, to make you desperate. But the patience didn’t last. Joel wasn’t in the mood for slow.

With a growl, he grabbed your legs, yanking them together at the knees, binding them tightly with the rope he had stashed nearby. The sensation of being bound, completely at his mercy, made your head spin, your thoughts blurring with the intensity of it. You whimpered into the pillow, your voice muffled, but he didn’t care. His hands slid up your sides, his touch firm, and possessive, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You could barely breathe, the weight of him pressing down on you, the way he filled you so completely making it hard to think, hard to focus on anything but the overwhelming need to be fucked, to be owned.

“Please…” The word slipped out, barely a whisper, but he heard it. He heard the desperation, the plea, and it only made him smirk. His fingers found your lips, pressing against them in a silent command for silence, a reminder that you were his to control, to take.

And take he did.

He thrust into you hard, his hips snapping forward with a force that made the bed creak beneath you. The angle was different now, deeper, more intense, each thrust hitting a spot inside you that had you seeing stars. You could feel every inch of him, the way he pulsed inside you, the way his cock twitched with every movement. He leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, the heat of his body wrapping around you, suffocating in the most delicious way. The weight of him, the sheer power behind each thrust, made it hard to breathe, hard to think. But you didn’t care. You didn’t need to think. All you needed was him, and he gave it to you—hard and unrelenting.

His grip on your arms tightened, holding you in place as he started to pound into you, each thrust harder than the last, driving you into the mattress with a force that left you breathless. The bed shook with the intensity of it, your body jerking with each movement, your mind going blank as you surrendered to the rhythm he set, the brutal, unforgiving pace that had you on the edge of oblivion. The mix of pain and pleasure was overwhelming, your senses overloaded, your thoughts reduced to a single, all-consuming need. More. You needed more.

At some point, he reached up, and grabbed your hair again, yanking your head back so he could take a picture with the camera perched nearby. The flash went off, a quick burst of light that left you momentarily blinded, but you barely noticed. All you could focus on was the way his cock felt inside you, the way his movements became more erratic, more desperate as he neared his release. The tension in the air was thick, suffocating, each thrust sending you closer to the edge, the pleasure coiling tight in your belly, ready to snap.

And then it did.

With one final, brutal thrust, Joel slammed into you, burying himself deep as he came, the hot rush of his seed flooding you, marking you as his. Your body responded instinctively, clenching around him, milking every last drop as a moan tore from your lips, muffled against the mattress. The orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you trembling and breathless, your mind wiped clean by the sheer intensity of it.

He stayed there for a moment, his breath heavy and labored, his body pressed firmly against yours, the heat of him enveloping you like a suffocating blanket. The world felt distant, the only reality was the sensation of him inside you, the raw, primal connection that had just played out between you. And then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. Joel pulled out, the sudden emptiness making you shudder, your body still quivering from the aftershocks, your mind struggling to piece together what had just transpired.

The weight of Joel’s body finally lifted as he pushed himself up, his chest rising and falling with ragged, labored breaths. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the heavy panting, the bed creaking softly beneath you both as the raw intensity of what had just happened lingered in the air like a living thing. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the slick sheen of sweat clinging to him, his hands still trembling slightly as he reached up to remove the mask.

Slowly, Joel peeled off the Ghostface mask, revealing his flushed, sweat-slicked face beneath. His hair was damp, clinging to his forehead in dark, messy strands, and his eyes—those dark, intense eyes—were still clouded with the remnants of desire. The sight of him, so raw and exposed, sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your body instinctively responding to the primal energy he exuded. Even after everything, he still looked insatiable—like he could take more, give more, his hunger a tangible force that hung in the air between you, making you ache all over again.

Joel let out a long, satisfied breath, his half-smirk teasing as he shook his head. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice hoarse and deep, the rasp of it crawling down your spine. “We’re done, sweetheart. Scene’s over.”

You laughed, soft and breathless, your body still humming from the intensity of what had just happened. “That was fucking intense,” you managed to say, your voice thick with exhaustion and satisfaction, your muscles still quivering in the aftermath.

Joel chuckled, the sound deep and rich, as he ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead. He leaned against the headboard, a low groan escaping him as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m telling you, baby,” he said with a smirk, his voice still ragged from exertion. “I’m fifty-six fuckin’ years old. Keep this up, and I might need a vasectomy just to survive.”

You snorted, the sound muffled by the pillow as you turned your head, grinning at him. “Maybe you should consider it,” you teased, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “But then again, where’s the fun in that? I’d miss all that old man cum you’re so damn good at shooting.”

Joel rolled his eyes, his breath still uneven, but his lips quirked up in amusement. “Right,” he drawled, his voice dry as ever. “That’s definitely what you’d miss most.”

You shrugged, the banter lightening the air between you. But even as the playful words filled the space, your gaze was drawn back to him—the way sweat still glistened on his skin, the flush across his cheeks, the steady rise and fall of his chest. His body was like a furnace, radiating heat that pulled you in, and despite the teasing, you could feel the tension building again, that familiar hunger stirring deep within you.

God, his age did something to you. There was something undeniably sexy about the way he carried himself, the way experience was etched into every line on his rugged face, in every confident movement. Joel knew exactly how to touch you, how to push you past your limits and pull you back just before you fell over the edge. The years had only made him more magnetic, the broad expanse of his chest, the strength in his arms, the silver at his temples—every mark of time made him even more devastatingly irresistible. He wasn’t some boy fumbling his way through; he was all man, and that raw masculinity turned you on in ways you couldn’t even fully explain.

Your teeth sank into your lower lip as you took him in, your eyes tracing the rough stubble along his jaw, the beads of sweat clinging to his skin, the slow rhythm of his breathing as he began to recover. The thought of what he was capable of, what he had already done to you, sent a fresh surge of heat flooding your core. Your body was already aching for more, the desire rekindled like an unquenchable fire, burning hotter with every glance.

Without thinking, you shifted closer, your hand trailing down his chest, the hard muscle flexing beneath your fingertips. His breath hitched at the contact, his body tensing beneath your touch. You leaned in, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper as your lips hovered near his ear. “You know, Joel,” you purred, your tone dripping with want, “it’s fucking hot that you can still fuck me like this. Fifty-six and still going strong? That’s a serious turn-on.”

His eyes darkened instantly, the playful amusement giving way to something more dangerous, more primal. “You think so?” he murmured, his voice rough and gravelly, sending a shiver racing down your spine. “You like fucking an old man, huh?”

��Love it,” you whispered, your hand sliding lower, teasing the waistband of his pants. “You’ve got experience, you know exactly what you’re doing, and it’s sexy as hell.”

The tension between you thickened, the air charged with electricity. The teasing words from earlier faded into the background as that insatiable hunger flared up again, demanding attention. Without another word, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a rough, heated kiss. The taste of his sweat lingered on your tongue, mingling with the musk of sex still clinging to his skin. The kiss was intense, a clash of teeth and tongues, the kind that left bruises and made you ache for more.

Joel responded instantly, his mouth claiming yours with a raw hunger that left you breathless. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin in a way that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through you. The heat of him pressed against you, reigniting that fire burning in your belly, a fire that demanded to be fed.

You pulled back just enough to grab the Ghostface mask, your fingers brushing against the cool plastic as you lifted it from his lap. You held it up, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you looked at him, your lips curving into a playful smirk. “My turn?”

Joel raised an eyebrow, a slow, crooked grin spreading across his face as he leaned back against the bed, clearly amused. “You sure you can handle it, Ghostface?” His voice was thick with anticipation, but there was a challenge there too, something dark and thrilling.

You slipped the mask over your head, adjusting it until it fit snugly, the darkness of it shrouding your vision, heightening every sensation. The thrill of the role reversal sent a shiver down your spine, your heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and excitement. Through the narrow eyeholes, you could see Joel watching you, his grin widening as he leaned back on the bed, his hands resting behind his head, his gaze trailing over your body.

“Oh, I can handle it,” you purred, your voice muffled and distorted by the mask, but the confidence in your tone was unmistakable. “Question is… can you?”

Joel’s laughter filled the room, a deep, rich sound that made your pulse quicken. “Bring it on, baby,” he challenged, his voice thick with anticipation. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

You didn’t need any more encouragement. With a swift, determined movement, you straddled his hips, the feel of his hard length pressing against your core sending a jolt of desire straight through you. The mask heightened everything—the darkness, the mystery, the anonymity—and it made you feel powerful, dangerous, like you could do anything, take anything.

You ground down against him, teasingly slow, the friction making both of you groan in raw pleasure. “You like this, old man?” you taunted, your voice a low, sultry growl that cut through the room like a blade. “You like it when I’m on top, calling the shots?”

Joel’s fingers dug into your hips, his grip bruising as he tried to take back control, to guide the rhythm, but you weren’t about to let that happen. With a swift motion, you shoved his hands away, reclaiming your dominance with a fierce determination. The heat between your thighs was unbearable, the throbbing of his cock against you making it almost impossible to resist the urge to give in. But you were far from finished.

Straddling him, you felt a surge of power course through you, the mask hiding the wicked smile that curled your lips. “You think just because you’ve got a few years on me, you can control me?” you challenged, your voice muffled by the mask, but the taunting edge in your tone was unmistakable, dripping with dark satisfaction.

Joel's eyes narrowed, the playful gleam in them giving way to something far darker, more intense. His pupils dilated, his gaze locking onto yours with a challenge that made your pulse quicken. “I know I can,” he growled, his voice thick with conviction. In one swift motion, he bucked his hips upward, and the sudden pressure of him—thick and unforgiving—against your core forced a stifled moan from your lips, the sound muffled by the mask. The sensation was electric, the jolt of it spreading through your body, but you were determined not to let him win this round.

The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, your arousal slick and ready, but you held back, savoring the power you had over him in this moment. You leaned forward, your masked face just inches from his, the darkness of the Ghostface mask amplifying the wicked grin spreading across your lips. “You love it when I take charge, don’t you?” you whispered, your voice low and dripping with seductive malice. Your fingers wrapped around his length, feeling the way his cock twitched in your grip, hard and pulsing with need.

He groaned, the sound deep and guttural, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps as you rubbed the tip of him against your slick folds. The tease was torturous—for both of you—but it only fueled the fire burning in your belly. The friction was delicious, sending sparks of pleasure through you, but you held him just at the edge, denying him the satisfaction of slipping inside.

Joel’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck straining as he glared up at you, his chest heaving with barely controlled desire. “You think you’re tough shit, don’t you?” he spat, the challenge in his voice unmistakable. “Playing games with me? You know damn well who’s really in control here.”

Your heart raced, the thrill of his words sending a shiver down your spine. But you weren’t about to back down. The power you felt in this moment was intoxicating, and you reveled in it, letting it wash over you like a drug. You leaned in even closer, the mask brushing against his face, your breath hot and heavy as you whispered, “I’m the one calling the shots tonight, old man. And you’re going to beg for it.”

His breath hitched, a low growl rumbling from his chest as he stared up at you, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. It was a dangerous game you were playing, one that could flip on a dime, but that only made it more exhilarating. Without warning, you sank down on him, taking him in inch by agonizing inch, the stretch of him filling you completely. The sensation was almost too much—your body trembling as you tried to accommodate his size—but you reveled in the delicious torment of it, in the way his eyes widened, his lips parting in a silent groan as he felt you envelope him.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat sending a fresh wave of heat through you as you adjusted to the feel of him inside you. The fullness was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that left you breathless. You could feel every inch of him, thick and pulsing, stretching you to your limits, but instead of relenting, you pushed back against the sensation, embracing it, letting it consume you.

Joel’s hands shot to your thighs, his grip bruising as he tried to regain some semblance of control. But you weren’t about to let him. You started to move, your pace slow and torturous at first, dragging out every inch of him until he was panting beneath you, his body straining with the effort to hold back. The power you felt in that moment was intoxicating, a heady mix of control and desire that made your whole body hum with pleasure.

“Fuck, baby,” Joel groaned, his voice strained, his control slipping as you rode him harder, faster. His head fell back against the pillows, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep up with you, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “You’re going to kill me.”

A wicked grin spread across your lips beneath the mask, your own breath coming faster as you leaned in close, your voice dripping with mockery. “Good,” you hissed, your breath hot against his skin, your words cutting like a knife. “I want you to feel every fucking second of this.”

Your pace quickened, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure crashing through you. You could feel him throbbing inside you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter, but you were relentless, driving him to the edge, pushing him to the brink until he was gasping for breath, his control hanging by a thread.

But Joel wasn’t one to be outdone. His hands tightened on your hips, his grip ironclad as he suddenly flipped you over, pinning you beneath him with a swift, powerful motion. The loss of control sent a thrill through you, a mix of fear and excitement that made your heart race. The mask slipped slightly, but you didn’t care—you were too far gone, too caught up in the intensity of it all.

“Can’t hear you too well through that mask, baby,” he taunted, his voice low and rough, dripping with a primal need that smoldered between you. It was that shift—how effortlessly he went from serious to sexy, from calm to commanding—that made your heart race. You loved how he could flip the switch so quickly, one moment a stern, unyielding force, the next a devilish tease who knew exactly how to push your buttons. He flashed the safe signal, his eyes locking onto yours, daring you to stop him, but you didn’t even consider it. You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and in that instant, he seized control completely.

Joel didn’t hold back. His thrusts were relentless, each one harder and deeper than the last, pushing you to the brink of madness with every stroke. Your breath came in ragged gasps, the pleasure so intense it danced on the edge of pain, each powerful movement driving you closer to the precipice of ecstasy. The mask you wore muffled your moans, but Joel didn’t need to hear them to know how much you were enjoying this—he could feel it in the way your body clung to his, in the way you tightened around him with every thrust, your nails digging into his back as if trying to anchor yourself amidst the storm of sensation.

“You forget who you’re fucking with,” Joel snarled, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through your very bones. His words were rough, filled with a dark, commanding energy that sent a thrill straight to your core. “I’m not some green kid you can boss around, baby. I’m a grown-ass man, and I know exactly how to make you fucking scream.” The raw authority in his tone was intoxicating, feeding into your desire as he took you to a place where you craved nothing more than to lose control under his relentless dominance.

His words ignited something primal within you, a heady mix of fear and desire that had your heart racing. Before you could respond, he punctuated his declaration with a hard, brutal thrust that tore a cry from your throat, your back arching off the bed as pleasure detonated inside you, leaving you trembling. The power he wielded over you in that moment was absolute, and though part of you wanted to fight back, to reassert your dominance, the larger part of you was helpless under the force of his will.

Joel’s hands were like iron bands around your wrists, pinning them above your head as he took full control, his body a solid, unyielding presence pressing against yours. The heat of his skin, the relentless pace he set—it was all-consuming, overwhelming, leaving you breathless and on the edge of losing yourself completely in the moment. His grip tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh just enough to remind you who was in charge, who had the power, and the weight of that realization sent a shiver down your spine.

Without missing a beat, Joel lifted the mask just enough to expose your mouth, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. He needed to hear you, to know that every word, every moan, was uninhibited, unfiltered, and raw. His breath was hot against your ear as he leaned in, his voice a dark, velvety whisper that held a dangerous edge.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he growled, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear in a way that made your entire body tremble. The command in his voice was undeniable, a rough, primal demand that left no room for hesitation. “Say it, baby. Say my fucking name.”

The sound of his voice, so close, so dominant, sent a surge of desire through you, making it impossible to resist. You could feel the tension building, the pressure of his control wrapping around you like a vice, squeezing out every last ounce of resistance. You knew what he wanted to hear, and as the words formed on your lips, the last remnants of your willpower crumbled.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the flood of words he demanded, but the relentless pressure of his cock, the way he filled you so completely, left you with no choice. The words were ripped from your throat, a desperate, breathless moan. “You,” you gasped, your voice breaking under the strain of it all. “Fuck, Joel, it’s you. All fucking yours.”

The admission seemed to unlock something primal in Joel, an almost feral grin spreading across his face as he looked down at you, eyes dark with possessive intensity. “Damn right,” he growled, the words thick with dominance and a promise that sent a shiver straight through you. His grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into your flesh with bruising force as he pulled you closer, driving himself deeper inside you. Each thrust became more erratic, more brutal, as he pushed you both to the brink, his body moving with a relentless, desperate rhythm that left you breathless.

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby,” he rasped, his voice a low, guttural sound that vibrated through your entire body. “Mark you as mine, so you never forget it. So none of them ever forget it.”

It wasn’t just the physical act—Joel loved reminding your viewers and, more importantly, you, exactly who you belonged to, both on and off the camera. His possessiveness was more than just a game; it was a declaration, a brand that he was intent on leaving imprinted on every inch of you. He reveled in the power, in the knowledge that no matter what you showed the world, in the end, you were his. And he wanted everyone to know it—especially you.

His words were the final push you needed, the tipping point that sent you careening over the edge. The coil of tension in your belly tightened impossibly before snapping, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that ripped through your entire being. Your body trembled violently, every muscle tensing as you cried out his name, the sound raw and desperate, echoing in the small space between you.

You felt your walls clench around him, milking him as the pleasure tore through you in relentless waves, each one more powerful than the last. It was overwhelming, an onslaught of sensation so intense it bordered on painful as if every nerve ending had caught fire. Your mind went blank, lost in the haze of ecstasy that consumed you, your vision blurring as your senses overloaded.

But Joel wasn’t done with you. Even as you came, he kept moving, his thrusts relentless, determined to draw every last ounce of pleasure from your body. You were oversensitive, every touch, every movement sending shocks of sensation through you, but there was nothing you could do to stop him, no way to slow the onslaught of pleasure-pain that had you teetering on the edge of sanity.

“Look at you,” Joel taunted, his voice a rough whisper as he watched you come undone beneath him. “Thought you were in control, huh? Thought you could make me beg? Well, baby, it’s you who’s begging now.”

He lifted the mask slightly, just enough to hear you more clearly, to see the desperation in your eyes as he continued to drive into you. His breath was hot against your skin, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “Tell me what you want,” he commanded, his voice dark and demanding. “Beg for it, baby. Beg for me to cum inside you.”

You could barely form words, your brain fogged by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. But you managed to choke out a reply, your voice shaking with need. “Please, Joel,” you whispered, the desperation in your voice clear. “Fuck, I need you. Please, just… just cum inside me. Fill me up. Please.”

The sound of your pleading pushed Joel over the edge, and with a deep, animalistic growl, he slammed into you one final time. His release was fierce, filling you to the brim, hot and thick, exactly as he promised. It sent you spiraling into another

mind-blowing orgasm, your body locking around him, milking him dry as your walls clenched, squeezing every last drop out of him.

The sound of your pleading seemed to push Joel over the edge. With a low, guttural growl, he thrust into you one last time, burying himself deep inside you as his own orgasm hit, his release hot and overwhelming, filling you up just as he promised. The sensation sent you spiraling into another wave of pleasure, your body tightening around him, milking him for every last drop as you both rode out the aftershocks together.

It was damn near unbelievable how many times he'd come-his stamina, his relentless drive. Joel was fifty-fucking-six, and still, he had you unraveling over and over, your own body shaking with pleasure more times than you could count. The heat between you was addictive, his age only adding to the intensity of it. Most men his age couldn't keep up after one round, but Joel? He fucked like a man half his age, like he had something to prove. And every time he buried himself deep inside you, filling you up again and again, it reminded you exactly who the fuck you belonged to.

The world around you ceased to exist. The only thing that mattered was the primal connection between you, the harsh panting of your breath, the erratic pounding of your heart echoing in your ears. Your bodies were trembling, utterly spent and satisfied beyond words. Joel's weight on top of you was grounding his presence a reminder that this- he-was yours

Finally, he rolled off you, collapsing beside you on the bed, both of you struggling to catch your breath. The mask lay discarded somewhere between you, forgotten in the haze of exhaustion and satisfaction. Joel reached out, pulling you into his arms as you trembled with the aftershocks that still rippled through your body, your muscles twitching with the remnants of pleasure

"Still think you're in charge?" Joel's voice was low, teasing, though his eyes were soft, filled with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

You didn't have the energy to argue, not after the way he'd fucked you senseless, so you just smiled, curling into his side. Your fingers lazily traced circles on his chest, his skin still warm and slick with sweat. "Maybe we both are," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss against his chest, savoring the salty taste of his skin, the feeling of him still lingering deep inside you.

Joel chuckled, a deep, satisfied rumble that reverberated through his chest. His arms tightened around you, his lips brushing over the top of your head. "Yeah, maybe," he murmured softly. "But don't you forget, baby-you're mine. Always.”

You sighed, your heart swelling with a mix of satisfaction and love, a contentment that only he could bring you. The thrill of what you'd just shared lingered, the intensity of it making your body hum as you drifted off in his arms. No matter how many games you played, how much you teased each other, you knew you'd always come back to this-back to him

[space-cowgirllll]

Wildflower

a/n- I'm super sick and might have written this in a NyQuil induced haze lol but I've been obsessed with this song lately and I just couldn't help myself and then these pictures pop up on my Pinterest??? I had to.

Reader is not a girls girl in this I'm sorryyyy.

You're already awake when she starts to stir, laying on your side staring out the small window across from the bed. The pretty blue and pink pastels of the sky are in the early stages of transitioning into a vibrant orange as the sun starts to rise.

This used to be your favorite time of the day. Listening to her breathing mixed with the birds chirping through the small crack in the window. Happy to wake up to her legs intertwined with yours, the warmth radiating from her body against your back. Now? The once comforting feeling of her breath at the nape of your neck sent chills down your spine, her tattooed arm felt like a hundred pound weight around your waist.

A gentle kiss is placed on the back of your head, followed by a mumbled good morning. The old bed creaks as she shuffles to the edge. Your body follows her movements, rolling over to face her. Her short hair is sticking straight up in certain spots from how much she'd tossed and turned all night. She was overdue for a haircut. You watch as she sits there, shoulders slumped and staring at the wall lost in thought. There are dark circles underneath her eyes. It was getting harder to pretend you didn't notice. 

"Are you hungry?" You whisper.

She shakes her head as if she just remembered you were still there and you frown. She hadn't had dinner last night either. "We have to go see Tommy today." 

Ellie gives you a small smile, her fingers run down the bare skin of your arm. You tense when she leans down. Lips just a hair's breadth away from yours when you turn your head to the side, hands pushing against her chest. She huffs when she's met the skin of your cheek instead.

"At least let me brush my teeth first Els." you giggle halfheartedly when she rolls her eyes. Her lips curve up in a grin.

"Okay, weirdo." she moves to press a quick kiss to your hairline instead, giving your hip a small squeeze.

"I'm going to go get Shimmer ready." She speaks into your hair. "I'll meet you at the gate?"

You nod silently, watching her slip out of the room and into the bathroom down the hall. The smile slips off your face the second you hear the sound of water running. 

--

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, eyes focused on the table in front of you. Your hands fidget with the frayed edges of the napkin. To your left, Maira chatters with a couple of the older women in Jackson. You'd been laughing as they shared stories about their lives before when you hear it. A knot in your stomach forms at the sound of her voice, tightening as she gets closer. Your hands clench into fists on your lap. A hand on your arm makes you jump, your knee bumping against the edge of the table. Maria watches you with a knowing look on her face. 

You give her what you think is reassuring smile, but judging by the frown on her face, she's not convinced. You chew on the inside of your cheek wishing you'd been able to stay back at the farm. In your peripheral you check on Ellie. She's hunched over what seems to be a map, while Tommy points to different areas on it. He talking excitedly about something, the determination on his face scares you. 

The last time you were all in the same room together you'd been standing in the sidelines having a drink with Jesse. You happily watching your best friend dance with Ellie, while he avoided looking Dina's way. 

Today, the seat next to hers is empty and the three of you avoid each other as best as you can in a town with a population of three hundred people. 

The ten month old in Dina's arms wiggles around as his chubby hands bang on the table. Little babbles reach your ears over the hum of conversations around you. You chance a quick look at him. It's bittersweet to see so much of your friend in JJ's sweet face. There's a dull pang in your chest, knowing Jesse deserved to be here, watching his son grow. God, you could use a stupid joke or two of his right about now. He'd never let you and Ellie live this down. 

Your eyes involuntarily move to Dina. She's deep in conversation with Jesse's mother. It had been months since you've seen her, and even longer since you'd spoken. You were too ashamed to ask anyone how she was doing knowing it would immediately get back to her. Your closest friend had become a stranger and it was all your fault. But what could you say? Sorry I got involved with your ex girlfriend five months after you broke up, let's still be friends? She'd probably punch you in the face. She had done it for less.

You press your lips together, fighting the bout of nausea that crawls up your throat. Your chair scrapes loudly across the floor, but you don't even care at the looks it earns you. With a rushed goodbye to the women, you book it outside. The humid air does little to help your already clammy skin, your tank top sticking to your back in the most uncomfortable way. 

The doors of the dining hall burst open just a moment later, startling you. Ellie storms out followed by an equally angry Tommy. His lips pulled down in a scowl. She doesn't even seem to notice you're there, striding right past you.

"What the fuck, Tommy?" You whisper shout at the older man, making no move to stop in fear of Ellie getting too far ahead. He just grumbles an apology, a fleeting look of regret on his face as he heads back inside.

Your feet slip slightly as you pick up the pace, the ground still muddy from an unexpected storm the day before. Ellie doesn't even seem fazed by it as she powers through to the stables. She has the decency to look embarrassed when she sees you following, and you try to ignore how much it hurts to know she'd completely forgotten you were there. 

The silence leaves you alone with your thoughts longer than should be allowed. You spend the whole time thinking so hard it feels like your head is going to pop. Remembering how upset Dina had been after the breakup, unable to deal with all the stress of dealing with a grieving partner while navigating the loss of her child's father shortly after finding out she was pregnant. The late nights where you held her as she cried. When no one had heard from Ellie for weeks, you made the trip up to the small farm she and Dina shared for those first short weeks of their return from Seattle. You found her sitting on the porch looking worse for wear. Her attempts to kick you out were futile. It started off innocently at first, you heading over to help her clean or look after the couple of sheep she kept around. Making sure she at least tried some of the food you'd bring over. Ellie was happy to let you do most of the talking, giving her the rundown on whatever the rumor mill was churning that week. 

It had taken months before the Ellie you knew slowly started making an appearance. Her art slowly appearing around the house, the strumming of her guitar becoming background noise while you prepared dinner. The first time she cracked one of her lame jokes you'd stared at her like she'd grown another head. 

Before you knew it you were practically living at the farm and one day when Ellie asked you to just stay, you listened. The look of betrayal on Dina's face as you moved what little you owned out of your house haunted you some nights.

It had been easy to ignore it in the beginning, the guilt overshadowed by the attention Ellie gave you. These days you can't shake the thought that maybe she'd kept you around because she was scared of being alone.

You reluctantly tighten your grip on Ellie, watching the profile of her face as she leads the horse onto the trail that goes back to the farm. She looks back at you, lowering one of her hands to squeeze yours resting on her waist. Try as you might, you had never been the best at consoling the girl in front of you.

As you look back over your shoulder, you contemplate how stupid you'd look if you came back to Jackson alone with your tail tucked between your legs. 

--

"Ellie! Sit still." 

"I am!"

The two of you are crammed into the tiny downstairs bathroom of your home. Her in a chair, you behind her with your hands in her hair. The room is silent, safe for the occasional snipping of the scissors. 

"I told you to just wait for me." You mumble as you try to fix the messy uneven strands at the back of her head. 

"You were taking too long."

"Well you can kiss that little half up bun of yours goodbye." The small pout on her face makes you laugh.

She'd gone a little wild with the scissors this time. Her once shoulder length hair now a shaggy cut that kept the hair off her neck. You huff as she moves her head from side to side, making it harder to keep cutting. She hums in approval.

"Not bad." 

"I'm not done yet." You whine, letting her pull you to sit on her lap.

Her chin props on your shoulder, smiling at you in the mirror. "It looks fine. Thanks babe." 

You rest your head against hers, admiring the way the morning sun coming through the window brings out the red in her hair.

The sweet moment is ruined by your treacherous thoughts. Remembering that night a little over a year ago. You'd showed up to Dina's one night after patrol to find the two girls in the bathroom as she trimmed Ellie's hair. It had been just before the two left for Seattle to chase after Tommy. Ellie had been a mess, staring off into nothing as your friend combed through her hair. 

And amidst all the chaos in her life you saw the way her eyes lit up when Dina looked at her. The flush of her cheeks whenever they locked eyes. Watching them interact had always felt like you were intruding on something.

"Oh I love this song!" Ellie cranes her neck, listening to the soft music coming from the record player in the living room.

Your chest tightens, the burning sensation from earlier returning. As she hums quietly, you think back to the day Dina had found the record in an old music store while on patrol. She'd probably left it behind. It was one of her favorites too, and if Ellie knows it, she doesn't show it. 

There was so much of Dina intertwined with Ellie. The two had been friends for years before they dated. They made far more sense than you and Ellie did. Some days you wondered if she ever even truly saw you. 

Would there ever be a moment that was just your own?

--

You lay there in the middle of your shared bed,  knees tucked into your chest with the covers up to your chin. Ellie's side of the bed cold and empty when you woke. Just as it had been every night since her argument with Tommy. The one you still knew nothing about, being brushed off every time you asked about it. You'd gotten used to her reserved nature over the past months, but this was different. There were still smiles and kisses thrown your way, but those no longer felt genuine.

The house is unusually quiet for Ellie not being in bed. No guitar being played or the quiet hum of the tv downstairs. Quickly slipping into one of her old hoodies, you notice that her jacket and backpack are gone from their usual spot. In a panic, you rush down the stairs. The ratty sneakers you constantly begged her to get rid of are missing from where she threw them every night after kicking them off.

Without even thinking you run towards the barn barefoot. The animals startle at the loud groan from the old door being opened but you pay them no mind as you move towards the small stable near the back. When only one horse pokes its head out to greet you, your blood runs cold. It wasn't Shimmer.

She left.

You don't even have to energy to cry, too in shock to truly process that Ellie's gone. Muddy footprints track inside the house, ruining the floors you had just cleaned before bed. You don't even realize you're in the kitchen until you collapse in one of the dining chairs. 

It isn't until hours later, when the sun finally starts to rise that you see it. The singular scrap stuck to the fridge underneath an old magnet she'd stolen from Joel. You recognize her the swirls of her messy handwriting as she apologizes for leaving. She'd gone after Abby. Her words start to blur as tears spill over, smudging the ink as they land on the paper. You angrily swipe at your face as you reach the end, staring at the three words she'd underlined twice before promising she'd see you soon. 

I love you.

No she didn't.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hot Single Mom » Lance Tucker

Pairings: Lance Tucker x Single Mom!Reader

Summary: Lance has a thing for single moms.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, alcohol, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, female receiving, unprotected sex, praise kink, Lance’s tattoo, pet names

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

Lance watched as you sat down on the bar stool next to him, unable to take his eyes off of you. He knows you’re the mom of one of the teenage girls he coaches in gymnastics. You could feel his eyes on you. You turned your attention towards him to see him biting his bottom lip as he admired the way your sundress hugged your curves.

“You know…” You took a sip of your drink. “It’s rude to stare. Didn’t your parents tell you that?” You jokingly say.

“It’s not my fault you’re a smoke show.” Lance says flirtatiously.

You giggled and turned your body so you were facing him. Lance shamelessly glanced down at your cleavage and licked his lips.

“I’m Lance.” He introduces himself, holding his hand out for you to shake.

“I know who you are. You’re my daughter’s gymnastics coach.” You shook his hand. “I’m Lizzy’s mom, Y/N.” You tell him.

“You’re Lizzy’s mom?” Lance asks. “I would’ve guessed you’re her attractive older sister.” He flirts.

“I get that a lot.” You smiled. “I had her at a young age.” You say.

“So…” Lance leans forward. “Are you still with Lizzy’s dad?” He asks curiously.

“Nope.” You popped the P. “He broke up with me when he found out I was pregnant.” You tell him.

Lance nods, taking a sip of his drink and smirking to himself.

“You wanna come up to my room?” He asks, his voice husky.

“Buy me a drink first, Coach and I might let you have your way with me tonight.” You say seductively.

A few shots of tequila later, you two ended up in his hotel room. You two were heatedly making out as you guys bursted through the door. You two pulled away from each other’s lips breathlessly to take off your clothes. You kicked your shoes off and pushed the straps of your sundress off of your shoulders, pushing your sundress down your body and revealing your braless breasts to him. You took off your panties and playfully threw them at him. He caught them and shoved them in the pocket of his jeans. He took off his jacket, dropping it on the floor and kicked his shoes off. He pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere in the room. He pulled down his jeans and boxers in one go, kicking them to the side. You couldn’t help but lick your lips when you seen his tattoo on his lower abdomen.

Lance kisses you hungrily as he picked you up and dropped you on the bed, hovering over you. He kissed all over your body, marking you up with hickeys in the process. He made his way down your body, spreading your legs and laid on his stomach in between them. He licked a strip on your pussy, catching you off guard. He did it again, earning a moan from you.

“Fuck, you taste incredible.” Lance says, practically moaning against your pussy.

His tongue licked from your entrance to your clit a few times before latching his lips onto your clit and ate you out like you’ve never been eaten out before. You threw your head back against the pillow in pleasure, loving the way his tongue feels against your pussy.

“Oh my god!” You moaned.

Your hands found their way to his head, your fingers tugging on his hair. Lance moans at the feeling, loving you tugging on his hair. His tongue did a flicking motion on your clit while his fingers found their way to your entrance. His fingertips circled your entrance, making your cunt clench around nothing. He slid two fingers in your pussy, moving them at a fast pace. His free hand snaked its way up your body to your breasts. His hand cupped one of your breasts and played with your nipple. A squeak moan left your lips when he pinched your nipple. He moved his hand to your other breast and repeated his actions, earning the same reaction from you.

A loud moan left your lips when he curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot, making you arch your back in pleasure. Lance smirked to himself, proud that he found your sweet spot with ease. He curled his fingers again, hitting your sweet spot again. Your cunt squeezed around his fingers. Your legs began shaking a little bit and threatened to close on his head. His free hand held one of your legs open so you didn’t try to close them. He quickened his movements with his tongue and fingers, making your orgasm build up faster. You knew you weren’t going to last longer with how fast his tongue and fingers were fucking you. Lance wanted you to cum fast so he can fuck you. He’s desperate to fuck you. You don’t blame him. You’re desperate for him to fuck you too.

“Lance, I’m- oh fuck! I’m gonna cum!” You tell him, followed by a moan.

“Come for me, baby.” Lance says huskily.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you arched your back in pleasure as you came harder than ever, moaning his name loudly. You laid there panting while Lance took his fingers out of your pussy, licking your release off his fingers, moaning at your taste. He sat up, hovering over you. He leaned down and kissed you sloppily. You moaned against his lips when his hard cock bumped your clit. One of your hands wandered down in between the two of you, your fingers tracing his tattoo. Lance pulled away from your lips and looked down, watching your fingers trace his tattoo.

“You like my tattoo, babe?” He asks huskily.

“Mmm, yes I do, Coach.” You hummed, biting your bottom lip. “I wonder what it looks like while you’re fucking me.” You say seductively.

“You’re about to find out, baby girl.” He almost whispers.

You watched him line his cock at your entrance. He slid his cock inside of you, inch by inch. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. When he was balls deep inside of you, he spread your legs wider. Lance pulled almost all the way out, only leaving his tip in your pussy and thrusted back inside of you with a hard thrust. A loud gasp left your lips. You looked down at where the two of you are connected, watching him thrust his cock in and out of your pussy. Your eyes wandered to his tattoo. You couldn’t help but stare at it as he fucked you.

“So hot.” You say, referring to his tattoo.

Lance chuckles huskily. He leaned over you so he was hovering over you, putting his hand on the bed frame and sped up his thrusts. You bit your bottom lip to muffle your moans to avoid a noise complaint.

“Don’t do that.” Lance’s thumb rubbed across your bottom lip. “Let me heard those pretty moans while I’m fucking you, baby.” He coos huskily.

Lance couldn’t care less about getting a noise complaint and frankly, you didn’t care about getting a noise complaint either. Your teeth released your bottom lip, strings of moans and his name left your lips. He smirks to himself, loving the sound of your moans and the way his name sounds when you moan it. It was like music to his ears.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and locked your ankles behind his back, pulling him closer to you if it’s even possible. Your hands found their way to his back, feeling his back muscles flex every time he thrusted into you. Your nails dug in his skin, creating red lines on his back. Lance hissed slightly at the feeling.

Lance leaned down and put his lips on yours, kissing you sloppily. You two moaned against each other’s lips. You threw your head back, pulling away from the kiss when his cock hit your sweet spot. Your mouth fell open, his name leaving your lips in a moan every time he hit that spot. His lips found their way to your neck, pressing kisses along your skin. A soft gasp left your lips when his teeth nipped on your skin, hard enough to mark you up.

“You know…” Lance starts. “I’ve been thinking about this moment since the day I laid my eyes on you.” He admits.

“Oh yea?” You moaned. “I’ve been thinking about it too, Coach.” You tell him.

You telling Lance you think about him made him want you more. His free hand made its way down to your clit, rubbing it in circles while his other hand left the bed frame and occupied itself with your breasts. Your cunt squeezed around his cock when his fingers applied a little bit of pressure on your clit.

You looked down at his tattoo, getting entranced with it. Your hands left his back. One of your hands went down to his tattoo, your fingers tracing along the ink of it before placing your hand flat on his lower abdomen where his tattoo is just to touch it. Your free hand grasped onto his bicep for something to squeeze.

You looked in his eyes at the same time Lance looked in yours, yours and his eyes clouded with lust. His fingers rubbed faster on your clit to help your orgasm build up which was getting closer. He could tell by the way your cunt was squeezing around his cock. His orgasm was building up too, but he wanted you to cum first.

“Lance, I’m-” A moan left your lips and your head fell back against the pillow before you could finish your sentence.

“Cum for me, baby.” Lance says huskily.

Lance watched your eyes roll to the back of your head as you came on his cock. His fingers gave your clit one last rub before he focused on his own orgasm which wasn’t too far from yours. His thrusts got sloppy for a moment, but he regained his rhythm. A loud curse word left his lips as he came inside of you. He thrusted a few more times before his thrusts came to a stop. He pulled out of you and laid down next to you. You two laid in silence, trying to catch your breath before either of you said anything.

“I’m assuming you have a thing for single moms.” You say, turning your head towards him.

“What gave it away?” Lance asks with a small chuckle.

“The way you fucked me and made me cum twice.” You say, still blown away by the two orgasms he gave you.

“There’s more than where that came from if you’re up for it.” He says, licking his lips.

“I’m up for anything, Coach.” You say, biting your bottom lip.

“Let’s get to it then, baby.” He says, pulling you on top of him, making a small squeal of excitement leave your lips.

🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅

-Bucky’s Doll

[sweetcherrybmb]

MAMÁ Y PAPÁ //TW\\ part two

pairing: toto wolff x bakeryowner!reader

description: coffee is a morning ritual that toto can't skip... so when a new bakery opens near the mercedes-amg HQ, he can't help, but pay a visit...

faceclaim: various pinterest girls

y/nsweets

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and 965,147 others

y/nsweets haven't posted the children in a while, now have i?

user1 so majestic!!

user2 they're adorable

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toto_wolff

liked by y/nsweets, lewishamilton and 154,236 others

toto_wolff is this how it's done, schatzi? @.y/nsweets

y/nsweets you kinda messed it up, but who cares?

toto_wolff im sorry, wont happen next time y/nsweets there is no next time, people know now toto_wolff oops

lewishamilton he's lost, someone help him

georgerussell63 he's beyond help mate

user3 TOTO??!! CON WAS RIGHT!!??

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y/nsweets

liked by toto_wolff, lewishamilton and 965,412 others

y/nsweets him<3

toto_wolff 💙

y/nsweets <3

user4 uhmmmm THE MESSEGES!!??

user5 MR. WOLFF??!! THE TEXTS???

user6 someone coming to jump with me? i'll pick you up

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y/nsweets

liked by toto_wolff, georgerussell63 and 963,214 others

y/nsweets i fear we're parenting too hard

user7 i see where george gets his style from

user8 him and carmen defo have them in their little moodboards

user9 ate!

user10 devoured even! user11 and left no crumbs

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toto_wolff

liked by y/nsweets, lewishamilton and 987,455 others

toto_wolff missing the missus

user12 toto what??

user13 i bet its either george or y/n running his insta, cause sir?? user14 istg georgerussell63 lewis suggested the caption and i approved user12 what??!! this is absolute chaos

y/nsweets miss you too<3

toto_wolff 💙

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sfos_bakery

liked by lewishamilton, toto_wolff and 976,845 others

sfos_bakery if you ask us, blueberry season has already started!

lewishamilton @.georgerussell63 @.toto_wolff she's trying to make us jealous

sfos_bakery is it working?? toto_wolff too well, they went looking for blueberry muffins they bought last night sfos_bakery did they find them?? georgerussell63 bono ate them this morning, lewis is looking for him now

user13 bono eating their muffins and lewis is now looking for him? what's he gonna do?

user14 probably send him to buy them more georgerussell63 bono brought a dozen as compensation for the 3 he ate user13 not george giving us updates

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sfos_bakery

liked by toto_wolff, lewishamilton and 965,441 others

sfos_bakery guess what, melbourn!

user15 omg, what?!

user16 she really is an icon for this user17 imagine just going somewhere and doing a pop-up, unexpected user18 i mean... its a pretty good idea, they're traveling and expanding, she gets to see the merc gang (toto) and the drivers get fresh baked goods, as well as others

user19 just passed by you guys, will stop on my way back!!

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sfos_bakery

liked by lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1 and 962,144 others

sfos_bakery we had a blast this weekend at @.mercedesamgf1 office, celebrating the recent successes, but i think we won't be doing catering anymore

mercedesamgf1 the cookies we amazing, you should start selling them

sfos_bakery they're our normal sugar cookies... mercedesamgf1 yeah, but these have the mercedes logo on 'em sfos_bakery nuh-uh, i spent far too long on each of them to be doing it on a large scale

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y/nsweets

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and 962,148 others

y/nsweets off to summer break... sardinia, anyone?

user20 toto's shoulders will be the death of me...

user21 right like... mans is too fine...

user22 what was he thinking about in that last pic????

y/nsweets he was debating within him if we should have fish or veal for dinner user22 which was it?? y/nsweets chicken, i ended up not feeling either of the options

user23 wait if she's in sardinia... who's running the bakery

user24 a collective vacay, they all go at the same time so the bakery is sadly closed

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TAGS

@yllomhej @walldemons @shelbyteller @reidsworld @pear-1206

@noooway555 @cheyxfu

if anybody else wants to be tagged, send me a DM or an ask!

[starsainzjr]

The Wine Maker

Pairing: Toto Wolff x wine maker!reader Faceclaim: None

✷✷✷✷✷

ynwolff Tuscany

Liked by toto.wolff, georgerussell63, carmenmundt and 14,187 others

ynwolff Private wine tastings and pasta making classes are in for 2024

Comments on this post have been limited

carmenmundt Mercedes private sessions when?

yourusername When Toto lets everyone out of the factory for once georgerussell63 You should be able to make that happen yourusername You put too much faith in me, Mr. Russell

toto.wolff Schatz, if you keep feeding me wine and pasta no one will get back to the factory

georgerussell63 That a promise? ynwolff I need someone to taste test the new barrels, better luck next time

carmenmundt posted a story

bellavitavineyards Tuscany

Liked by ynwolff, carmenmundt, toto.wolff and 303,187 others

bellavitavineyards Bellavita Vineyards open houses are back! Every Friday pop in for guided tours, wine tastings, and pasta making classes! Owner YN Wolff will be at the first open house next week answering questions and leading a few of our tastings!

ynwolff Brackley, England

Liked by toto.wolff, lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and 14,693 others

ynwolff The only reason why I was invited to the factory was because I bring wine and pasta

Comments on this post have been limited

toto.wolff Schatz, you're invited because you're my wife and everyone is less afraid when you're here

ynwolff That's not true georgerussell63 Yes it is lewishamilton Yes it is ynwolff Oh boy

carmenmundt I always invite you places because you're the love of my life

ynwolff My one true soulmate

carmenmundt Brackley, England

Liked by georgerussell63, ynwolff, lilymhe and 94,725 others

carmenmundt Team dinner to start to season complete with an @/bellavitavineyards bottle of perfection

View all 15,206 comments

ynwolff I had so much wine in my suitcase I think I'm flagged for life with airport security

carmenmundt And we applaud you for it

georgerussell63 Favorite way to start the season with my favorite people

carmenmundt You're being sappy on main again, babe georgerussell63 My bad, my bad

kinggeorge63 Can we discuss how close everyone at Mercedes has gotten since YN and Toto got together

kinggeorge63 Like the past three years it's been crazy how close they all are

mercx8 This team is gonna be on some shit this year. I can already tell

ynwolff Bellavita Vineyards

Liked by toto.wolff, carmenmundt, georgerussell63 and 14,212 others

ynwolff Back to business as usual. @/bellavitavineyards staff and I have been coming up with some special surprises for the 2024 batches including our first Super Tuscan!

Comments on this post have been limited

toto.wolff I am so proud of you, schatz. Missing you terribly

ynwolff I love you, Hübscher. I'll see you soon

carmenmundt So when am I getting my private classes again?

ynwolff As soon as you bring me that perfume I like that somehow only you know where to get it from carmenmundt I'm running to get it immediately

carmenmundt posted a story

ynwolff

Liked by toto.wolff, carmenmundt, georgerussell63 and 15,001 others

ynwolff Happy one year anniversary, Hübscher. I love you more and more each day. Go do incredible things <3

Comments on this post have been limited

toto.wolff Schatz, light of my life. I love you more than words can describe. One year ago was the best night of my life, I cannot wait for more with you

ynwolff You are my one and only. I love you, Hübscher

carmenmundt Genuinely one of my favorite events ever. You two are the cutest and loveliest couple out there!

georgerussell63 The Wolff wedding will go down in the history of legendary events

✷✷✷✷✷

All photos from Pinterest, Instagram, or Google Images

[justtwotired]

Whispers of the night - Lloyd Garmadon x F!reader

Part 1 - previous - next

Tag list: @cipheress-to-k-pop @whore-of-many-hot-men @bodieohbo @anyth1ngfor0urmoony @luvlloyd @viannasthings

Guys- can we like- talk about this fanart I added here of Lloyd?? Cause I love it so, so much! Smits such good art and the artists OC -Christal- is also so beautiful! The Artist is ‘Scarlets.Doodles’ btw. I also wanted to say that all the art I use in the beginning of the chapters is not mine, but I always find it on Pinterest and than I can’t find the original artist, if you do know, please tell me so I can give the artist credit for their work!<3

Anyway, it’s bonding time for Y/n and her little brother😍

Your POV:

The holidays where over and it was time to go back to school, fun…!

Not.

But I guess it means I could see my friends everyday so it isn’t THAT bad, I guess, we did have fun at school the first day back.

It was a Monday, which meant school ended early for me. Dad was busy at work and mom was out with my aunt, our nanny was not available on Mondays, so that meant I was on duty of getting my little brother from school and my sister from daycare.

Luckily for me, they where right next to each other. I went to get my brother first and I walked onto the school grounds, waiting around with parents for the bell to ring and for the kids to come running out.

After five minutes off waiting, the bell rang and kids started streaming out of the school. Trough the crowd, I didn’t manage to spot Ace.

After a while, I finnaly spotted his dirty blonde hair and smiled, yet it fell when I saw he was being pushed around by a few other boys seemingly a bit older than he was, making my blood boil.

“Hey!” I called out, walking towards them, they looked up and the four boys quickly scurried off. I contemplated going after them but decided on staying with my brother.

“Ace, are you alright?” I asked concerned, squatting down next to him and turning his head towards me when he avoided looking at me. “Hey, look at me,” I said softly, “are you alright?” I repeated.

He shook his head, tears in his eyes and barreled into me, hugging me tight making me hug him right back.

“Hey, hey,” I said, softly stroking his hair. “It’s alright, they where just being little pricks,” I said and he pulled away, looking at me with a pout. “Why where they mean?” I asked softly.

“They are always mean to me,” he sniffed, whipping away the tears that threatened to spill, “just because I sometimes play with girls and dolls too,” he said and my heart broke.

“They do this more often?” I asked, glancing at the direction the kids had ran and I noticed their mothers in conversation with each other while the boys fooled around, looking oh so innocent as if they hadn’t been bullying my little brother.

“Oh, kiddo, why didn’t you tell me? Or mom and dad?” I asked, wiping away the fresh tears running down his face.

He shrugged and hid his face in my shoulder, making me kiss the top of his head. “Come,” I said, picking him up, “I’ll talk to their parents,” I said and began walking over.

“You don’t have to!” He panicked and I frowned lightly at him, “it’s fine, really!” He insisted and I shook my head.

“Ace, they are bullying you, that is not okay,” I said softly, “let’s try to solve this on our own before involving the school,” I smiled and continued walking.

The mothers looked up when I arrived, looking at me with questioning glances.

“Can we help you?” One of them asked, looking rather annoyed. Great, this was going to be harder than I had initially thought.

“Those are your kids?” I asked, nodding towards the four boys. The mothers all nodded. “I’m Y/n, Ace’s sister,” I introduced, “I just noticed your kids pushing him around and calling him names,” I looked around the group of mothers.

“You- you did?” Another asked concerned, glancing over to her son with a worried glance. “Oh great god, I am so sorry, I’ll talk to Bennie about that,” she shook her head.

“Oh please, they are just having a bit of fun, boys will be boys,” the woman who had been the first to speak waved it off.

“Clarice, if they are bullying ace we cannot take it lightly,” another told her, laying a hand on her shoulder, “we as parents are responsible to teach our children to be kind and respectful to everyone,” she smiled softly at me, making me smile back.

“Are you sure they where bullying him?” The fourth mother spoke, “I mean, they could indeed just been having fun,” she shrugged, looking over at her child as he laughed with his friends, probably not able to imagine him bullying someone.

“Seeing that my brother was crying, I am pretty sure,” I said dryly and she frowned but nodded. “I hope we can all just figure this out without having to involve the school, but if it does not improve, I’m afraid I’ll have to get my parents to speak with a teacher,” I informed.

“Oh yes, of course,” Bennie’s mother nodded hastily, “we’ll talk with our children and please, if nothing improves, come to us and we will talk with the teacher together,” she smiled and kindly touched my shoulder.

“Thank you so much,” I gave her a appreciating smile, “if you’ll excuse me, I do need to get my sister from daycare,” I said and bid my goodbyes.

The first one huffed in annoyance as I left and I heard a, “can you believe that? Accusing our children of bullying!” Coming from her mouth, making me roll my eyes.

Well, teo of them took it amazing, one seemed a bit sceptical, and they other was a total bitch. But it went better than I had expected.

“See,” I looked at Ace with a smile, “that wasn’t that hard,” I kissed his hair and put him down, holding out my hand for him to take as we both headed to the daycare before taking the car back home.

That night, when my siblings laid in bed, I entered the living room where my parents where watching tv.

“Mom, dad,” I said and they looked up at me, my father pausing the movie.

“Yes, sweetie?” My mom asked, her smile dropping at my concerned face.

I had decided it was best to talk with them while Ace wasn’t there, I didn’t want to embarrass him or make him cry by thinking about what was happening.

“Did you know Ace was getting bullied?” I asked and their faces fell, and I swore I saw actual tears form in my mothers eyes.

“Our little boy is getting bullied?” My dad asked, eyes full of rage and my mom grabbed his wrist, muttering his name, trying to calm him down.

“I saw him being pushed around and being called names by four boys about two to three years older than him,” I explained, “when I asked he said it was because he hung out with girls and played with dolls,” I looked at the ground, chewing on the inside of my cheek, “he looked so upset,” I shook my head sadly, my voice cracking.

“We need to talk to the teachers,” my mom insisted, “this is not okay, god, we should have put him in a private school, a public school is just-”

“Mom!” I cut her off, “public school or no, children are just little shits sometimes,” I shook my head, “besides, I already spoke to their mothers, I think they’re going to handle it but I can’t be sure and I wanted you to know,” I explained and my mother threw her head back and sighed.

“Oh, sweetie,” she said and walked up to me, “you’re amazing, I am so proud of you,” she hugged me tightly and I chuckled hugging her back.

“I bet it was that Lucas, wasn’t it?” Dad asked, his eyes still full of rage and he looked at me as my mother let go off the hug.

“I don’t know, but I know one of them is named Bennie, or Ben or whatever,” I shrugged and my mothers brows rose.

“Really?” She asked surprised, “Bennie’s mom is such a nice woman,” she shook her head in disbelief.

“Oh, yeah she was really nice,” I quickly nodded, “she promised to talk to her son- there was this one woman who was being kind of a bitch though,” I said and my mom shot me a look.

“Language, Y/n,” she said and my dad stifled a chuckle, making me shoot him a light glare.

“Sorry,” I muttered, “anyway, her name is Clarice and I swear I want to punch her in the face,” I huffed and crossed my arms.

“Oh… her,” my mom scoffed, “yeah, she’s Lucas’ mother, she is a horrible woman with an equally horrible husband,” she shook her head. “I don’t think she will be talking to her son about this,” she said sadly.

“Then we’ll have to step to the school eventually,” I shrugged, “for now let’s just support Ace,” I glanced towards the stairs where I had just come down from after reading Ace a bedtime story.

“Im proud of you,” my mom said, and pulled me into another hug, making me chuckle and hug her back.

It was a week later, I waited for my parents and little brother to get back from the conversation they had with the school and the parents of the kids bullying Ace.

The bullying had in fact, not stopped and my father was ready to sue. Luckily my mother was reasonable and just arranged a meeting.

When they got back, Ace just went up to his room without a word and my parents walked in aswel, rather frustrated.

“It seemed the school has the same motto as Clarice,” my mother said a bit disappointed, “apparently boys will be boys and they will get over it soon enough,” she said making me scowl and roll my eyes.

“Hey, you know where that Clarice lives?” I asked, “I might pay her a visit and try get some sense into her head, maybe the teachers aswel,” I said darkly and my father met my gaze.

“Good idea” he started but my mother cut him off.

“Absolutely not!” She said and hit the back off his head. “You should not be supporting this behaviour, Elijah!” She scolded my father, “we will handle this like adults, besides, tomorrow they have that costume party in the evening, maybe we’ll get something out of that,” she said with a small smile.

My father and I shared glances, both knowing it was probably not going to happen, but we didn’t say anything.

The next evening, I held my brothers hand as he, James and I, walked into the decorated school grounds. Kids in costumes ran around, some off the parents where even dressed up, aswel as the teachers.

I spotted some kids around our age too, also in custom. I guessed they where older siblings like me.

James, Ace and I where dressed as pirates. James and I wore our costumes from two halloweens ago, we had spent ages on making them.

Ace wore a costume that I bought at a toy store, I had pimped it with accessories and sewed the costume here and there to make it more realistic. I got him a plastic sword, an eyepatch and painted a beard on his face.

He was extremely proud and quickly went to show off to his friends. I did notice there where four girls, but there where two boys aswel that seemed to be friends with him, so I wondered why it was Ace that was targeted by bullies.

I almost tripped when four kids in ninja costume came running past me. One of them wore green, the others red, black and white. I chuckled at the sight before the masks went off and my smile fell.

“What?” James asked when he noticed, giving me a frowning look.

“Those are the four kids that bully Ace,” I whispered, “little shits,” I murmured right after.

“Oh, that’s them aye?” He asked, making way to go talk to them- or well probably their mothers as they stood next to them, showing off, making me grab his arm.

“Jamie,” I said, “don’t, we don’t wat to make it worse,” I frowned and looked at Ace, who was beaming at me, making me smile back. “Ace is happy, let’s leave it like that,”

James nodded and together we headed over to Ace who introduced us to his friends who where all dressed up differently, looking cute as ever.

After abput two hours, both me and James sat on a bench, drinks in hand as we where quietly judging costumes, giggling amongst ourselves.

“There’s so many ninja outfits,” he commented, making me nod. There where indeed, even one teacher was dressed up, fully in blue.

One girl was proudly dressed as the water ninja, boasting to the four little rascals about how she was the best ninja.

They countered that by saying that the green ninja was the best and the most powerful, which just made her stick out her tongue.

I averted my gaze to three girls, who I guessed where in grade seven or so, playing with skipping ropes, doing tricks that almost made me jealous, because I could never do that when I was their age.

James made a comment about that and I shoved him, causing him to almost fall off the bench while laughing.

With a chuckle, my eyes searched for Ace and my stomach sank when I watched how he was harshly pushed and he fell to the ground, making me seath with rage.

“Hey!” I stood up and quickly made my way over, “what do you think you’re doing?!” I called and a few people looked up to see what was happening. From the corner of my eye, I saw two people also quickly making their way over.

“Bennie!” His mother called out, and the boy looked up, eyes wide, looking like a deer in headlights.

I quickly kneeled down next to Ace. “Are you hurt?” I asked worried, fussing over him, James also coming to stand next to me.

“Are you four crazy?” He interrogated the children, “he could’ve been seriously hurt!” He pointed at Ace who had thick tears streaming down his face as I kissed his forehead and hugged him tightly.

“Oh, I am so, so sorry,” Bennies mother said to me, before turning to her son and starting to scold him. “Oh, and you three to!” She turned to the other three boys, who wore the same expression as their friend.

“Gavin,” another mother kneeled down to the level of her child, “what did we talk about, we do not hurt other kids, neither with words or our hands,” she said in a serious tone.

“I wanna go home,” Ace cried and I sighed, picking him up and letting him sit on my hip.

“Lets go, it’s late anyway,” I shook my head, starting to walk off.

“Hey, hold up!” I turned around at a hand in my shoulder, facing Bennies mother. “Bennie, say sorry to Ace,” she looked at her soon with an expecting look.

“Sorry, Ace,” he said softly, and I was quite surprised to see ehe genuinely meant it.

“You too,” the other mother looked at the remaining three kids who also muttered their sorry’s. She then turned to me with a soft look. “I promise this will not happen again,” she said and that’s when the third mother arrived aswel.

“Hey, what happened?” She asked worried glancing at Ace who was still whipping away tears.

Bennie’s mother quickly explained and the woman frowned and turned to her child.

“Felix, have you apologised to Ace?” She asked and he nodded, she looked at me for confirmation and I nodded aswel. “I am so sorry, dear,” she shook her head.

I muttered something before walking of, mostly focused on getting Ace out of here. James followed after me, a hard look on his face.

James hates bullies. He himself was bullied when he was little too and he did everything to protect those who were targeted.

One time, he sucker punched some guy who was bothering a first year, stealing their backpack and everything, it was pretty amusing.

Back at home, James said goodbye to me and Ace and I headed inside, holding Ace’s hand.

My mom was in the kitchen and he quickly hugged her when he spotted her, making her look at me in question, probably wondering why we where back so early and why Ace seemed like he had cried.

I explained the story and she was lost for words for a moment before hugging her son tightly, whispering reassuring things to him before taking him upstairs to get ready for bed.

I also went upstairs, texting with James who just got home and wondered how Ace was doing.

I yelped when my window -which I had slightly opened just in case- opened, greenie stepping inside with a wide grin as he pulled off his mask.

“Hi, princess,” he greeted and I chuckled, sending James a quick goodnight text before getting off the bed.

“Hi, stinky,” I said, scrunching my nose as I smelled the sweat from only a few feet away. He pouted at me and I chuckled.

“You bully,” he said, whiling away fake tears making me jab his side. He laughed, catching my hand before I could do it again.

He pulled me forwards into a kiss and I chuckled, before my face fell slightly when he pulled away, making him frown.

“What’s wrong?” He asked concerned, cupping my face in his hands.

“Lloyd,” I said softly and he hummed in acknowledgment, “can you do something for me?”

Lloyd POV:

I stood in front of Y/n’s house, gi and mask on, a small helmet in my hands.

The front door opened and Ace came running out, followed by a chuckling Y/n who was holding his hand, being dragged towards me.

“Ready to go, little man?” I asked and he beamed at me, almost jumping up and down.

“Yes!” He said in excitement and I chuckled, kneeling down to help him put on the helmet.

“Does that fit?” I asked and he nodded, looking up at Y/n to show off, making her chuckle.

“Good luck, you two,” she smiled and I stood up again, ruffling her hair affectionately making her mumble a soft curse before quickly glancing at Ace who luckily didn’t hear it.

“I’ll see you later,” I said, making her smile and nod. “Now, let’s get you onto the bike,” I said before lifting him up and putting him on the bike before also getting on myself.

“Drive safely!” Y/n called before I drove off, Ace shrieking and laughing in excitement the whole ride.

When we got to his school, I helped him off the bike, before kneeling down and also getting the helmet off. It revealed an excited grin and I chuckled, holding out my hand for him to take.

There were already a few parents and kids in the parking lot who watched with wide eyes.

The two of us walked onto the schoolyard and many heads turned in wonder and surprise, making me grin from under the mask while Ace buzzed in excitement.

“Acey!” A girl came running up followed by a few others, she hugged him tightly, making him let go of my hand to hug her back.

only when she let go did she seem to notice me, making her eyes grow wide. “The green ninja!” She gasped and the other friends yaws dropped aswel as they watched me in awe, making me chuckle.

“Hi there,” I greeted with a small wave. I scanned the grounds quickly and then spotted a small group of four boys, watching in awe. I recognised them from the pictures in the yearbook Y/n had showed me, so I diverted my gaze and looked back at Ace.

“How do you know him?” A boy asked, looking at me, then at Ace, then me again in awe, and then back at Ace.

“He is my sisters friend,” Ace said, a bit shy now as he answered the questions his friends had for him.

“Excuse me?” I looked up at a woman who was holding a phone and a man beside her. “Can I take a picture of the lot of you?” She asked with a warm smile, one of the Ace’s friends went to hug her legs and I guessed this was her mom.

“Of course,” I said and the kids bustled around, all posing as the woman took a few pictures. My hand rested on Ace’s shoulder the whole time.

I never really did pictures and autographs, but just for this one time should be fine.

“Hey, Mr. Green ninja?” I looked up to see a man approaching, he stuck out his hand and I shook it in silence. “I am William Wright, the principal. May I ask you what gives us the honour for you to visit our school?” He asked and I shrugged.

“Oh, I just came to drop off Ace here, his sister was supposed to, but she had an emergency. We’re great friends so she asked me to do it, seeing it is in my patrol area anyway,” I said and the principle nodded.

“Say, can I take a picture for the schools instagram?” He asked, I contemplated for a bit, before just deciding to agree.

Both me and the kids all posed again as the pictures were taken. At one point, I swooped Ace of his feet and got him to sit on my neck, making him laugh and the other kids giggle.

After the pictures were taken, the kids hurried off to play elsewhere and I turned to the principal.

“Say, I’ve been talking to Ace’s sister, and I heard he has been having some problems with bullies, is that correct?” I asked and the principal looked nervous.

“Oh, well, we had a meeting about it a few days back, but, we worked out that it was just a bit of fun, nothing big,” he waved it off and my eyes narrowed.

“Hm, interesting, seeing as he came home yesterday with bruised elbows,” I said and the principals eyes widened.

“Oh that is concerning,” he nodded hastily, “we will look into it, I promise,”

“I am happy to hear that,” I said, glancing at the four boys who were still watching in awe, but didn’t dare walk up to me. “I do really hate bullying, it just disgusts me, you know?” I said, I knew they could hear me.

“Yes, yes of course,” the man nodded and chuckled, “we do really not tolerate bullies here, thank you for informing me of the situation,” he said and then quickly excused himself.

He better do something about it, otherwise I might barge into his office some time later.

I waved at Ace in the distance before leaving with a content smirk on my face.

(Are you liking the fluff? Just asking… for no reason at all)

[fiapartridge]

REQUEST tbh idk how ur request work but I have an idea

Going to one of Luke’s games but it’s Toronto vs NJ and wearing a maple lefes jersey

And luke sees her and is banging on the glass to get ur attention and is like “off now”

Idk this idea popped in my head lmao

R U Mine? | luke hughes

"all i ever wanna say is, 'are you mine?'"

luke hughes x reader

summary: you wear a toronto maple leafs jersey to luke’s game and he can't help but wish you were wearing his...

warning(s): cursing

hiii @bibella8swan <3 hope u like mitch marner, if not, just imagine someone else LMAO + i really need to make a navigation with like a proper request/prompt system, im tryna be a pro tumblr writer gal

You loved Mitch Marner, like loved him. 

Having grown up in Toronto, your family loved hockey just as much as the next family— which was a lot. They watched every single Leafs game, went to every single Leafs signing, and they even had a shrine of Leafs memorabilia in your parents’ home office. To say they liked the Leafs was an understatement (honestly, they would probably tackle you if you said that)— they were obsessed. 

Luke knew you loved the Leafs. I mean, he lived next door to you for a good chunk of his life, how could he not know? It wasn’t like you were sporting all things Leafs whenever you were with him, but Luke paid enough attention to notice your dedicated Mitch Marner Pinterest boards and your number 16 lockscreen. Though you rarely ever said it out loud (honestly, I don’t think you’ve ever told Luke, let alone anyone else, about your love for Mitch), Luke knew— because Luke knew you. He noticed the little things, like the way you always needed to carry around a lint roller in your bag because you just knew there would be unwanted lint wherever you end up going, or the way you laughed at everything, even bad jokes, because you hated silence even more. 

When he moved to Michigan, you were scared that things were going to change between the two of you, but it never did. He was still your best friend, and you were still his. When he found out you were moving to New Jersey for college, he was ecstatic given that he had just gotten drafted to the Devils. 

Getting to spend more time with his best friend? It was the best news he had ever been given. Luke started planning out your guys’ lives in New Jersey the second you told him about your plans. Maybe you guys could share an apartment instead of him sharing one with Jack, and maybe you could go to all of his home games and cheer him on in the stands? 

Luke moved to New Jersey after Michigan’s loss in the Frozen Four, and while it was a bitter moment, knowing that he was finally going to see you made it not so terrible. 

When Luke arrived in New Jersey, it was like nothing had changed. The two of you spent every single day together, and there wasn’t a single moment when you guys weren’t laughing, or making fun of each other while laughing. You even got an apartment with him, just like he had planned. It was perfect. Maybe that was when Luke understood that his love for you was way beyond just friendship. Luke loved you. Quinn said that Luke had fallen in love with you the moment he saw you, but he just wasn’t bright enough to see it— I guess college did teach him a couple of things. 

After a few more months of living together, Jack had finally managed to slap some sense into the both of you after finding out that you were both going on Tinder dates and that none of you were happy. In fact, you two were miserable. Every single time you watched the other person walk out that front door in nice clothes and high expectations, you felt some part of yourself crumble to pieces. 

You hated the thought of someone getting to hold Luke’s hand or cuddle into his side, or even get the chance to kiss him. You had known Luke your entire life and some random girl from some stupid app that he had known for, what? An hour? Got to get closer to him than you? You hated that, and little did you know, Luke hated that, too.

Which brought you to where you were now: at Luke’s game against the Toronto Maple Leafs. 

You slipped into the front row, sitting beside Ryleigh and Brooke, as you got the most perfect view of Luke as he and the rest of the Devils skated onto the ice for warmups before the game. You were engaged in conversation with Brooke when you felt Ryleigh tap your shoulder repeatedly. Whipping your head in her direction, she pointed to the glass and said, “I think someone’s trying to get your attention,” she laughed. 

When you looked toward the glass, you saw Luke banging against the clear pane. You were confused, to say the least. It wasn’t unusual for Luke to give you some sort of attention during warmups, like a simple wave, or a small smile, but for him to be banging on the glass? It had to be important. 

“Off," he nodded his head at you. "Now.”

You furrowed your brows. What was he talking about? You squinted your eyes, signaling that you had no idea as to what he was referring to. 

Luke pinched his jersey, pulling it up and down, and you immediately knew what it was. You were wearing a Marner jersey. What did he think was going to happen? The love of your life was on that ice— of course you were going to wear his jersey! But then again, the love of your life was banging on the glass, getting a million stares from Devils fans and Leafs fans alike, just so he could gain some comfort knowing that you were in that crowd, wearing his jersey. 

You didn’t quite understand that, though. You wondered why it was so important to Luke. I mean, you wore his jersey to every single home game. It was one game against a team you loved. What was the big deal?

You shrugged him off, shooing him to go back to the others when you heard the siren go off, signaling that it was time for the game to start. He shook his head and skated off to the Devils’ bench. 

The first period was… definitely something.

Luke got the puck a lot, but he also missed the puck… a lot. He skated around the ice like a lost puppy, and you bit your nails, wondering if it really was the jersey that was bothering him. It didn’t seem like a big deal to you. You’ve loved Mitch Marner since the concept of crushes even came to you. The Maple Leafs were your team. What was so wrong with that?

During the intermission, you sprang out of your seat and marched over to the direction of the locker rooms. The Rock was like a second home to you. You knew the place like the back of your hand which made it so much easier to get to Luke— because you needed to get to Luke before the second period started. You needed to know why it was taking such a toll on him. 

When you walked towards the hall of the locker rooms, your eyes met Luke’s and he immediately ran over to you, or rather hobbled to you, on his skates. On his way over, his right hand fished for the bottom of his jersey as he pulled it over his head in one clean motion. God, it was the hottest thing you had ever seen. 

“Take this,” he said, still out of breath from the game. 

You shook your head. “That thing is full of sweat, Luke.”

“Then let me grab you a clean one from my stall,” he suggested before turning around.

You scoffed, grabbing his wrist and swiveling him back towards you. “What’s going on?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

You rolled your eyes. “The last time you said that, you were pissed off that Jack got the last slice of pizza and the next time you got pizza, you added olives because you knew Jack hated them. It’s not nothing, Luke.”

He looked everywhere but you, because he knew you’d read him like a magazine. He knew that he could never hide a single thing from you, because just as he had paid attention to you, you had paid attention to him. You knew him, and deep down, you knew why the jersey was such a big deal to Luke, but you wanted to hear him say it. 

You wanted Luke to call you his. 

His shoulders relaxed for the first time since intermission started, and his eyes finally met yours. “I know you love Mitch. You always have, and that’s never been a problem, and it never will be, but… I wanted you to pick me.”

You narrowed your brows, stepped closer to the boy you loved so much, and you whispered almost tauntingly, “Why should I pick you?”

He bent down, held the sides of your face, and crinkled his eyes in nothing but cringe. “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

“Gosh, I think Mitch is calling my name,” you frowned. 

He shook his head, a playful smile dancing on his lips. “For some fucking reason, I love you, Y/N, and I want you to wear my jersey, I’m begging you to wear my jersey, because as selfish as this sounds, I need to know that you’re not Marner’s, and you’re not the Leafs’ — you’re mine. I want you… to be mine.”

Your face broke into a bright smile. “Fucking finally,” you laughed, pushing him off of you and towards the locker room. “Give me the damn jersey, Hughes, intermission ends in seven! Also,” you pulled him back. “I love you, too.”

[yonahsienna]

This Was Supposed to Be Fun

Or: WTF happened to the online Commons, and where do we go now?

Let me start by saying that I don't want to be a "content creator" or “online influencer”. I don't want to "optimize engagement" or “build an agile social strategy”. I don’t even particularly want to Start a Blog or Podcast. I just want to f#¢&!ng hang out with my friends and community online, and I feel like we should have The Technology to just do that by now.

Of course (infuriatingly) we did have that technology! I first connected to the World Wide Web in 2001 when I was ten years old. Back then, the whole family shared one computer, which I mostly used to play Age of Empires, Bugdom, and Oregon Trail. Connecting to the Internet meant that nobody could use the phone, so we would log on quickly (accompanied by a symphony of discordant whistles and beeps), check emails and/or MSN messages, and then pass the computer to the next person.

As our access to the Internet grew through my teens, so did the diversity of content we consumed, shared, and bonded over. eBaum’s World and Newgrounds hosted a plethora of simple, free webgames we'd play once we got bored with the handful my parents were willing to buy, as well as the first viral videos like Numa Numa and Star Wars Kid. We also connected in new ways with a growing “social web” — profiles on sites like Myspace and Livejournal and eventually the early Facebook were a way that anyone could have their own site on the web, a little virtual locker that you could decorate and fill up to your liking, and have your friends stuff with virtual notes.

In my late teens and early twenties, the Internet was mostly for research and keeping up with student government and clubs via long weekly emails stuffed with hyperlinks and attachments. It wasn't until I was well into my twenties that I got my first smartphone. At university, the only way to connect to the Internet “on the go” was to tweet my on-the-go thoughts by sending an SMS text message to Twitter at 21212. I also hardly used the social web anyways, other than for a quick dopamine distraction or break from long study sessions in the library. I had even deleted my Facebook account that I'd had since high school, since the campus coffee shop and bar served as more than enough of a hub for socializing, philosophical and political debates, and important announcements posted on cork boards or delivered by intercom.

I know I probably sound like a stereotypical Millennial, whining about the “good ole days”, but I wanted to spend this time on memory lane for a reason. I think that no matter when you grew up, this feeling is probably close to universal: from the early 2000s to early 2020s, the Internet and social web seemed to just work. There were a lot of things wrong with the world, but the Internet was where we went to complain about other problems, not a source of them. But of course, even back then we were living on borrowed money and time. The virtual Commons we had grown comfortable in never actually belonged to us, the users. From the moment they incorporated, the big sites belonged to venture capital, who sold them out to the oligarchs, who sold them out to the fascists. We were never the customer, always the product.

Flash forward to 2025. The “big four” North American social media outlets (Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok) have all been captured by the Trump administration. Smaller sites, like Reddit, Telegram, and Substack have long been a hotbed for bigotry and hate speech. Searches on Apple, Google, Microsoft, and even Pinterest are serving up LMM “AI” slop before authentic and unique human creations. Ads, suggestions, sponsored posts, and cookie pop-ups take up far more space than the content I came for. And if I ever want my family, friends, and community to actually see my updates, I either need to send them to each person directly, or market my posts not to them, but to an algorithm optimized not for users or even businesses, but shareholder profit. In parallel to all this: efforts to gather in person are cut at the knees by a lack of coherent and safe public health policies, the dismantling of Third Spaces and affordable public transportation, and the militarization of the police.

It is horrifying that exactly when the biggest thing we need for survival is to build and strengthen community, that the only accessible tools to do so, are hostile to our very existence.

Obviously this isn’t a coincidence. Every time we, the people, can talk to each other directly, we start getting dangerous ideas about the fact that the ultra-wealthy and hyper-elite are so few, and the rest of us are so many. Pamphlets facilitated the French and American revolutions, the telegraph and radio hastened the collapse of the Russian and German Empires, and Twitter fanned the flames of the Arab Spring. And here in America, The Powers That Be, Red and Blue alike, overwhelmingly want the American government in strict control over where and how we can communicate with each other.

And here I am, just hoping for a single F#¢&!NG site on the whole World Wide Web where I can just hang out with family, friends, and community that isn't owned and operated by literal fascists, kept behind a paywall, or too technical for our Elders to use. A comfy virtual coffee shop with announcement boards, conversations, the occasional performance, and a locker nearby for collecting memories and passing notes.

I don’t really know what the Takeaway/Call to Action is here. Yes, I’m already on Tumblr, Mastadon, and Bluesky, and would love it if we all continued to grow these kind of alternatives while divesting from profit-driven social "platforms". I’m still on Discord, Snapchat, and Signal and even have accounts on Loops, Pixelfed, Xiaohongshu, and WriteAs, in case the center of gravity ever moves over to those places. All of them still feel very "under construction" though, so I don't even know which (if any) I feel comfortable asking friends and family to "switch over" to. In the meantime, I'm just feeling lost, sad, lonely, and adrift; and wanted to share these musings with y’all. Just in case anyone has any advice you want to share, or are feeling the same way and want to commiserate.

xposted to Facebook, Tumblr, Medium, and WriteAs. God, I hate the Internet right now >:(

[hazzashouse]

There’s always sunshine after rain

a/n: not proofread! I saw this photo of Harry (below) on Pinterest and this idea just popped to my mind 😩😍 hope you’ll like it as much as I do!

summary: you are in a secret relationship with harry. He is currently shooting a movie and you work on the set as a hairstylist. Everything is great until… is not.

warnings: slight angst?

It’s been eight months since you started seeing each other. No one knows about you, and you both decided that it’s better if it stays that way. At least until Harry is done with shooting the movie.

But you don’t complain.

There is just something about being in a secret relationship that brings you excitement, a rush of adrenaline. Longing looks, stealing kisses behind the corner when no one’s around and looking…

Exciting, isn’t it?

You two met on the movie set where you work as a hairstylist. You agreed that keeping your relationship away from everyone is pretty convenient and better in general. You aren’t a public figure, no one knows about you, so it would be also easier to remain unknown to the fans, even if someone did see you two together.

But it’s not always easy. There were times when Harry wished to be able to hold your hand, caress your cheek and place his hand on your knee when sitting next to each other. The desire to do so was always so intense, painful almost. Just like today.

Today is one of the hardest days for you. Everything goes wrong. It’s not even noon and you’ve already managed to burn yourself with a hair straightener , spill your morning coffee on a few scripts, mess up a few hairstyles, and most importantly, break a ridiculously expensive studio lamp after tripping over the cables…

The worst part of it all is that the director lashed out at you in front of everyone, including Harry. You could feel the tears forming in your eyes, the lump getting bigger in your throat, as the harsh words kept coming. You don’t even want to think what’s going to happen next.

Harry was clenching his fists so tight that any second longer and his nails would’ve broken his skin. He wanted to step in, protect you and then comfort you, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t and it was killing him. The sight of your glassy eyes made his jaw clench almost immediately.

Finally, the director dismisses you and you start walking away, wanting to get as far away from everyone as possible. As you turn to the left, going further into one of the many corridors, someone grabs your hand, making you stop.

“Y/n” you hear the voice of the only person that you want to hear now. You turn your face around to look at him but as soon as you do so, you break into tears.

Harry pulls you into his arms without any hesitation. Your bodies pressed against each other. His arms wrapped around your waist tightly as if he was never going to let you go. “Shhh, everything is okay,” he whispers into your ear, trying to get to you through your sobs.

You feel your tears wetting his costume but he doesn’t seem to care. All he wants is for you to feel safe, to know that he’s right here for you. That’s all that matters.

“Y/n,” he speaks again, leaving a kiss on the top of your head.

“I- it’s all my fault,” she stutter.

“Y/n,” Harry tighten the hug. “It’s not your fault and you know it. You are exhausted. You’ve been working your ass off since 4 am, you had no one to help you. Not to mention that you hadn’t been feeling well since yesterday. It’s not your fault” his hand started stroking your back in a soothing manner. “He should be thankful that you’re still working here. You deserve better, Y/n. You didn’t do anything wrong. I swear to God, I’m gonna go and tell him off. That’s not how you treat a woman and it’s definitely not the way to treat you. That son of a bi-” Harry doesn’t get to finish because you pulled slightly away, and standing on your tiptoes you closed the distance between your lips.

“Thank you,” you sat quietly after the kiss. You lick your lips and feel the salty taste of your own tears.

Harry moved his hand to caress your cheek, his thumb wiping away the remained tears. “I don’t like to see you cry but I’m always here for you and I’ll always be.” You lean into his palm, putting your hand on top of his.

Harry takes a few good seconds to just look at you when it comes to him. First of all, he doesn’t want this situation to occur ever again. But secondly, he doesn’t want to wait till you’re alone to finally pull you into his arms or taste your lips. “Y/n,” he pauses but just to steal a tender kiss from you before continuing. “I don’t want to hide anymore. I know you are afraid of what people might say but who they are to tell us how to live our lives? I love you, Y/n, and I want the whole world to see how happy I am because of you. I want to be able to show you my love for you all the time, not only after work and when we’re away from everyone’s eyes.” Harry finishes his little speech with another kiss on your lips.

“So… What do you say?” He strokes your cheek with his thumb.

like and reblog if you liked it! follow me to not miss my future content - I will very much appreciate it! Lots of love, A.

[girlreblogger]

movie nights!

conniexblackfemreader. it’s fall..

orihime (girl in the banner) photo credit goes to @/Xoxo_io on pinterest!

— fluff, chapter 1/5, 3rd pov, reader is an actual (skeptical) introvert, use of y/n (feel free to use your own name or give me suggestions for a name to use if that what you guys want for future chapters), not proof read, i hope this gives off lifetime movie, “i just read a novel and think i’m a writer too” vibes, happy eren, enjoy!

Eren, Connie and Armin were at y/n’s apartment along with Mikasa. Y/n was Mikasa’s classmate in one of their freshmen college classes last year. The teacher told them to turn to their neighbor and she was sitting right next to her. Surprisingly, mikasa took the lead in the conversation, asking her fun questions off topic from the class discussion. And just like that, they were friends.

That next year they both decided to go half on a cozy apartment near campus. Y/n slowly started to be introduced to new faces once they started living together the last 7 months. Eren and Armin who seemed to be mikasa’s closest friends, always popping up to help with groceries or take her out to hang. Though y/n piqued their interest, she would always wave mika off and keep the apartment to herself when she left with them. A true introvert.

Eventually, she warmed up to them after mikasa dragged her out to go bowling with them. That fun night immediately made them all become besties just like that. One day, Armin mistakenly mentioned the fact that they all had a very impulsive friend she had yet to meet and she was actually excited about meeting them.

Y/n sat on her white sofa in between Mikasa and Armin while Connie and Eren sat on the one across from her. She invited them all for a little movie night and thought it'd be a good idea to get to know Connie more. So far she could take into account his style: nose and ear piercings galore, a colorful green and black racer bomber with a tight white shirt underneath too. He had baggy black jeans on and some green dunks.

‘nice.’

He sat on the sofa with an arm over top, his legs stretched out and crossing each other while looking around the place. She watched from the sofa with her cold orange soda in hand and took notice of his incredibly short platinum gray hair. His eyes kept bouncing around the apartment to take it in. Even though he knew Mikasa moved in with a college friend a few months back, he never saw the place.

Soon those eyes bounced to hers and almost immediately shifted somewhere else. He had to think if eye contact was even made. His throat cleared and his long lashes batted before he briefly looked over at Eren, who was wearing a white beanie on top of his flowy hair. His body was oddly twisted to be sure not to lay on his friend’s shoulder. Eren had his feet propped up on top of the arms of the couch like he had no home training, but being best friends of the owners of the apartment; in his mind granted him that right in someway.

“So, Connie, do you wanna pick a movie? You’re new to our movie nights so you can start!” Connie looked over at the sound of her voice and sat up from his position, placing his elbows on his knees and staring at the girl dressed in a black and orange my melody pajama romper. She had her smooth thick thighs and pretty legs on display, making him subconsciously lick his lips and look up at her shiny cleavage exposed from that one undone button.

‘damn-‘

His eyes quickly swept up to her pretty brown eyes and that big grin on her face. “alright.” Connie gave her a friendly smile and watched her nod giddily. She obviously loved movie nights at the way she hopped up from her seat and went to her kitchen with Eren to grab snacks for everyone. Eren looked back in the living room before turning back and raising a childishly suspicious eyebrow. “What do you think?” Eren proposed while walking behind her to grab the candy corn from the pantry for her. “of what?”

She waited for Eren to walk somewhere else and give her space to swivel around to look at him. “of con, how you feeling about him?” She scratched her chin and grabbed a bowl and pack of popcorn off the counter. “he seems cool so far... i mean he just got here ren.” Eren nodded and leaned against the counter behind her, watching her excitedly pour the white cheddar thicky pop into a big bowl. “yeahh, but since he’s one of our friends and you’re such a good judge of character i’m just excited for you to get a good read on him so we all can be a big happy friend group.” The last was supposed to sound sarcastic but she knew he meant it. “but honestly, he’s cool i promise!”

She nodded at his words and shook her head to laugh off his assumptions. Eren was really like a big teddy bear to her so she couldn’t help but try and take his judgement seriously. “mhm. he seems chill. a little overdressed for a movie night though.” Her head turned to look at Connie but she ended up catching him eyeing her up and down. Before his eyes could even make it up to hers, she turned and folded the bag of popcorn up neatly. “We already told you he extra as hell.” Eren laughed at your sneaky remark and grabbed some candy to carry to the living room. “Alright, let’s start the movie.”

end of chapter 1.

please like, and REBLOG! .. please :) i don’t even usually do banners and stuff but i’m really excited abt this fic so please comment, reblog with tags, or give some feedback if you enjoyed cause it helps with motivation. thank you!

[nerdieforpedro]

Wednesday WIP

It's hump day people! So that means it's time to find out what everyone is working on! 😎 As for your girl Nerdie, I have a few things in the works: two Dieter fics, two Marcus Pike fics, and Dave/Santi.

@iamasaddie Popped out a dark Valentine's Day prompt and past Nerdie said sure! Thus we're going to have a different version of Marcus Pike. (Not “Daddy” I made a slight edit to the prompt). He might be a bit manipulative, but it's for your benefit. Not odd at all. It's still in bullet points and some of them may change I gave @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin a preview so have to ask her if it makes any sense. 😄 (The above gif is how I picture this Marcus. Like he looks so sweet, but sir, SIR! But also we're okay with it, maybe.)

@magpiepills gave me an excellent idea for meeting Marcus Pike at a motel based off a Tag game we did a week or two ago. I've thought of three parts for the thing. I just gotta write it. That will be the Marcus fluff we know and love. 💕

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine Sweetly asked if there was an update on my chapter Dieter series "Weddings 101 with Dieter." I am working on chapter 4, I just have to work out the details. The devil is there and he is mocking me. 😈 The Horny Delegation's High Chancellor has high expectations. Maybe I should have written it a little worse. 🤗

Dave/Santi have their bullet points mostly. I did start on them. Maybe February @for-a-longlongtime It needs a lot more meat, lube, cargo pants and zip ties. There may be a preview of that next week along with some Santiago smut. The Santi x reader smut will be @rhoorl (she started it with her ask) and @legendary-pink-dot fault who sent me one journalist's investigative piece on Oscar's Dune beard. 🤣 I also blame Pinterest. You search “Oscar Isaac beard” one time. Sheesh. 😒

I finished my addition to the PMAMC 2024 challenge organized by the talented @wannab-urs and, well, it's done and out there. 👀 Read the other ones and come back to mine, if you think about it. This week is everyone is posting so there will be a masterlist up later with everyone who participated.

I'll end with a small preview of my Dieter Brovo one-shot:

God he needs to feel you, the pocket pussy he has is alright but he needs your full weight on him. You mewling at him, giving him silent direction as he tries to make you vocalize more. Dieter’s aware he’s often loud enough for the both of you and he finds that hearing the few moans that you will give him, fill him with a sense of accomplishment. He remembered that you’d told him that it was difficult to climax sometimes and actually you’ve reached your peak so much more often with him than other partners, because he cared to find out where your spots are, what makes you feel good. Your hushed noises weren’t an indication that he wasn’t doing well, you just weren't used to making sounds during sex. Since the two of you met at a club where you had misplaced your shoes and Dieter let you borrow his crocs, you’d been seeing each other when you could. It was one of the few stable relationships Dieter had outside of his business team.

So that’s all I have this week. 🤗 See you next week!

No pressure tags: @fhatbhabie @trulybetty @morallyinept @maggiemayhemnj @pedroshotwifey @megamindsecretlair @i-own-loki @secretelephanttattoo @goodwithcheese @ladybess-a03 @laurfilijames @musings-of-a-rose @undercoverpena @avastrasposts @chronically-ghosted @gwendibleywrites

[forevfangirlwrites]

play stupid games, win stupid prizes chapter 20

“You’re going to look great!” Piper yells from her closet. “I have the perfect thing!”

“Okay,” she replies, laying sideways on her bed. They’re getting ready for Jason’s New Year’s party, hence the lack of Thalia who is no doubt being forced to help with the setup.

She’s scrolling through Pinterest absently when Piper finally pops out of the closet.

“Okay so this dress…” she trails off suggestively waiting for Annabeth’s reaction. It’s a short, off the shoulder, red dress with long sleeves made from a velvety material. It’s gorgeous.

“Piper! I couldn’t…” The dress is too stunning.

“You can and you will. It’ll look great on you, you’ll feel great,” Piper starts listing the benefits, “And it’ll be jaw dropping to anyone else there.” The unsaid implication of ‘anyone’ is undoubtedly, Percy.

“He’ll regret everything so quickly,” Piper adds.

A stab of guilt runs through her at her friend’s words. She really should just tell everyone, but she just wants to stay in this bubble for a little bit longer. It doesn’t stop her from feeling bad though.

At her non-reply, Piper pushes the dress into her hands.

“Well! Go try it on!”

She does as she’s told and changes into the dress. Piper is right, had her and Percy actually still been broken up he would have regretted everything. It looks fantastic.

“Oh my god it’s even better in person!” Piper squeals.

“Thank you so much for letting me borrow this,” she responds, turning to the side to check it out.

“It was made for you today,” Piper responds with a smile. “Now help me choose which one I should wear.”

 She helps Piper choose (a classic little black dress) all while fighting the temptation to snap Percy a picture. (Something tells her the surprise will be better in person).

They pull up fashionably late, as Piper calls it, to the party and as soon as they walk in, Piper immediately starts scanning for her boyfriend.

“He’s in the kitchen,” a voice next to them says causing them both to jump.

“God Thalia, you gave us a heart attack.”

Thalia smiles. “Good.”

The three go over to the bar kitchen area, Annabeth all too familiar with this scene, to find Jason grabbing more cups.

Piper doesn’t say anything, just stands expectantly until he turns around and sees her. He drops the cups. Luckily they’re plastic.

Thalia rolls her eyes and picks up the cups. “You’re stupid,” she tells him.

Jason ignores her in favor of greeting his girlfriend (with a kiss that Thalia makes a gagging noise at and she can’t help but giggle).

“Want a drink?” Thalia offers.

“What kind?”

“Well what kind do you want?”

“Um…”

“Hey Jason, did you find the—” Percy’s voice and movement halt in place as their eyes meet.

She wanted to smirk or something in a show of confidence, but all of a sudden, she’s drowning in the green and they’re just standing there staring at each other.

“Hi,” she finally says, breaking the moment.

“Hi.” He takes half a step towards her then, as if remembering, steps back. “You look…nice.”

The nice is a little strained and she knows it’s because he wants to replace it with other words.

“So do you.” And he does. He’s wearing his usual jeans, but he’s got on a black button up untucked with the sleeves rolled up and somehow he’s pulling it off.

KEEP READING ON AO3

[withpeopleinperson]

11, 12, and 20 for "i choose you and me, religiously" please? it's one of my favs!

omg hi thank u for asking me these!!!!! I love talking about my fics and I especially love when ppl send dms or asks about them off anon because it’s nice to know that real actual people are reading my things !

11. Was there a scene that you hadn't originally planned to include? Why did you decide to fit it in?

yes!! so i had the entire thing meticulously planned out and the sick regina scene wasn’t supposed to be in it! neither was the one where they sleep apart and call each other! then a million little things within the fic that originally weren’t planned either (the johnny cash quote, the . i think the main motivator in including them or fitting them in was just that it was so Them that the moment it popped into my head i had to put them in that fic instead of the long document of scene/dialogue/action ideas!

12. Was there a scene you wished you could have included? Why didn't it fit in?

oh my lanta YES! this fic has been in some stage of planning for nearly 3 years and I would chip away at it little by little with ideas and plans that never came to fruition. there was supposed to be a scene where they walk past a park and cady swings with regina and encourages her to heal her inner child, one where they fuck in a bathroom stall, one where they take a road trip and cady picks blue cotton candy bc the color is similar to reginas icy eyes

20. What is something you wish more people noticed about this fic?

the typos & the lack of italics bc ao3 didn’t import them. hahaha im just joking but there are two typos that it won’t let me fix. but there’s so many little things i peppered in that i wish ppl would tell me they notice. callbacks to the beginning of the fic, full circle moments, the way gretchen and karen are nearly integral plot points without doing much at all. im gonna put some under the cut here for the people who want to notice them on a 2nd or 3rd read through

- the fic starts with cady bringing regina a coffee, near the end regina is the one making cadys coffee

- cady’s careful consideration of regina and her feelings. when she thinks she might offend regina about the spin class, she carefully shifts her wording. she always accepts a drink to make regina not feel self conscious about drinking more or too much. she shares things with regina in conversation when she’s worried regina is self conscious about opening up too much. cady is so attuned to the emotions and thoughts of the people around her

- and on that note. cady is the quiet leader of the relationship while regina makes every physical move. cady is always anticipating reginas thoughts and actions and feelings, always prepared to gently lead them towards the next steps even if she lets regina do all the leading

- reginas extensive shoe and bag collection. i had an entire pinterest board dedicated to her seasonal colors

- the book they read. the way they read it. it’s such a small detail and barely central to the plot but I love that part.

- the way they enmesh so well. it reminds me of a concept that’s been fairly pertinent in my life recently, the fact that you are a combination of all the people you have ever loved, and i think you can look at cady and regina in this fic and see what parts of each other they adopt into themselves. like regina getting water for her bedside table even when cady isn’t there

- i also love the way the proposal scene goes as a full circle moment. it calls back the parking lot being their place, the ring being the expensive thing regina wants to surprise her with in the johnny cash quote scene, the callback to fetchen’s wedding and how regina didn’t think she was cut out for marriage. ugh, it’s excellent.

that was just a lot of me blabbing about me own fic so please feel free to ignore haha

[star-my]

berserk tiger - iv. impulsion

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Kim Seo-ah (OC)

Rating: PG-13

WC: 1.6k

CW: sibling shenanigans (Jinah extorts Yoongi semi-seriously), lack of boundaries between characters, Miran may (not-so-)secretly be a voyeur? (Jin is Shocked)

A/N: No beta so feel free to point out typos or give concrit. Compliments are always nice. Moodboard photos are taken from Pinterest, edit is mine. This part is inspired by @sabiekay <3

| Series Masterlist & Description | Masterlist | Ao3 |

Taglist (open): @bangtan-famiglia-net @bangtanwritershq @kayleefriedchicken @veronawrites

Seo-ah knocked on Yoongi’s office door, poking her head in when he greeted her. “I’m back.”

He nodded. “Did you have a good time?”

She grinned, thinking of what she’d left in her closet. “I did. Miran is really fun to be around.”

Yoongi’s eyebrow raised. “Good, maybe now that I have a wife, that’ll keep her out of my hair.”

With that cryptic comment, he returned to his work. Taking the silent dismissal for what it was, Seo-ah closed the door silently and returned to her, no their, room. She had a closet to organize.

~~~

Jinah immediately tracked Seo-ah down when she returned from school, plopping onto the tufted bench in the middle of the closet with a sigh. “How was your day, unnie?”

“It was good, I went shopping with a new friend and then I’ve been putting my things away. How was yours?”

“Same as usual,” she shrugged, pulling a candy out of her pocket and popping it into her mouth. “Want one?”

Seo-ah refused the offer, not wanting to get her new things sticky before she’d even worn them. 

“You should go study, Jinah. It’s almost time for your exams.”

With a belaboured sigh, her sister got up, though she lingered at the doorway. “What’s that?”

Seo-ah glanced down at the item in her arms, a smirk tugging at her lips. “It’s a wedding present from me to Yoongi. Don’t you think it suits him?”

Jinah cocked her head at the fabric Seo-ah held up. Nodding, she agreed. “You must tell me what he says about that.”

“Okay, as long as you study,” Seo-ah insisted.

Rolling her eyes, Jinah left, leaving the door open behind her.

“I left you a snack in the fridge!” Seo-ah called after.

She continued her folding and sorting, down to the last bag now. 

A cough behind her made her turn to see Yoongi standing in the doorway. “I thought I should let you know that dinner is almost ready. Uh, I’ll leave you to–”

His gaze flicked down to what she’d paused folding, then back up to her eyes.

Willing herself not to get flustered, as she remembered that she was putting away a rather scandalously lacy lingerie set Miran had forced her to buy, she simply nodded. “Thank you, I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll be settled and ready to cook tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to–”

“I like to,” she insisted, turning to hang the lingerie in the darkest depths of her half of the closet.

“Alright. Do you mind if I join you sometimes? I like to cook as well.”

She smiled at him. “Of course not, it’s your kitchen. There’s plenty of space so we shouldn’t worry about getting in each other’s way.”

He nodded silently and left just as silently, leaving her to stare after him curiously.

~~~

The meal was fairly quiet, though Jinah did her best to contribute conversation. 

“How would you feel about hosting a welcome dinner so my closest employees can meet you and Jinah?” Yoongi suddenly asked, setting down his chopsticks.

Seo-ah blinked. “That sounds fine. When were you thinking?”

“Hm, would next Thursday work for you?”

“That sounds fine. You know I never have a packed social calendar,” she grinned. 

“And what about the first of next month, we reveal our relationship to the public? Quietly, but just something to show off my beautiful wife and let them know that I’m a taken man now?”

Jinah cooed. “You’re earning more and more Husband Approval Points, oppa. Keep it up!”

Yoongi glanced at Seo-ah, who tried to hide her smile behind her water glass. “Thank you?”

“When you reach one thousand HA Points, I may consider forgiving you for not letting me know you were dating my sister until after you were married,” Jinah informed him.

“Jinah–” began Seo-ah, but Yoongi raised his hand, shushing her. 

“How many Husband Approval Points do I have at the moment?”

“Five.”

He tsked. “How do I gain these points?”

“Being good to Seo-ah. I will also add two points for every ten thousand won you give me.”

“Jinah!” scolded Seo-ah, now truly shocked. “That is very out of line for you to say!”

“I respect your hustle,” Yoongi told Jinah seriously, fishing his wallet out of his pants. He handed three 5,000 won bills to her waiting hand. “15,000 won, equal to five Husband Approval Points, correct? That brings me up to ten points, or one percent approved of.”

Jinah nodded. “You’re smart. I knew I liked you.”

Seo-ah kicked Yoongi’s foot under the table, making him look at her and her frown. “Don’t encourage her extortion, Yoon.”

He stared at her.

Clearing her throat at the sudden tension in the air, Jinah spoke up. “It’s May twentieth now, which gives Yoongi-oppa approximately six and a half months to reach one thousand points by the end of the year. Care to make any bets on if he’ll make it?”

Yoongi tore his eyes away from Seo-ah to face her sister. “That sounds very arbitrary, especially if you plan on being in charge of the betting and point-awarding. What’s to stop you from rigging it? I think I’d better call my financial advisor here so we can settle this clearly.”

Seo-ah kicked his foot again, harder. “There’s no need to disturb Seokjin and Miran this late, Yoongi. Jinah, no betting, and no bribing Yoongi. You don’t need to disturb him.”

Jinah tsked but settled down, winking at Yoongi when she thought Seo-ah didn’t notice.

~~~

Yoongi’s head poked around the closet door to their bedroom, his sudden appearance in her peripheral vision making her turn. 

His deadpan face made her blink in confusion for a moment before she remembered what she’d left on his shelves.

Ah. He’d found it. “You found my present?” she smirked.

He stepped out of the closet fully, revealing the cat-print pyjamas she’d bought under Miran’s urging after they giggled about his feline-ness that morning. Stifling a giggle as she took in the look, she managed, “They look very nice…they really suit you.”

“It would be rude not to wear them when you took such care to get them for me,” he excused himself, sliding into bed and hiding the view under the covers.

She snickered again, joining him and turning out the lights. Miran would be so happy to hear how their prank had turned out.

~~~

Kim Seokjin and Miran’s house

“Babe, you have to leave early to meet Yoongi at the office for that meeting this morning, right?”

Jin turned from fixing his hair in the mirror to his wife, a little puzzled at the non-sequitur.

“I’m going to leave in half an hour, why?”

“Why don’t you carpool today and go pick him up? I’ll go with you, I want to visit Seo-ah.”

Jin shrugged in acquiescence. “Alright, I can leave in five instead. You’re getting close to his wife fast, aren’t you?”

Miran’s head emerged from the dress she pulled on, arms patting down the creases. “I guess so. It’s nice to have someone who understands what it’s like being married to a mobster.”

“Jagiya…we don’t know what she knows, yet. Please don’t get too attached until we know what Yoongi is doing.”

“I know, I know,” she bumped him out of the way to brush her mascara on. “It’s still nice to make new friends, though!”

Jin let them into Yoongi’s house with his key and passcode, surprised at how dark and quiet it still was. He headed to the kitchen to make some tea, expecting Miran to be right behind him.

Of course, his nosy wife was not, instead tiptoeing down the hallway to Yoongi’s room.

Jin followed her reluctantly, wondering at her invasion of privacy while also knowing that Yoongi had to be up and ready to leave soon.

“Aren’t you even going to knock?” he whispered in Miran’s ear as she wrapped her fingers around the handle. 

“Shh, I want to see something,” she hissed back.

Jin gasped. “Since when was my innocent Miran-ie a voyeur?!”

She elbowed him back with a glare. “Not that, Jin. Seo-ah got him cat pyjamas and I need to see if he’s wearing them. There’s no way he’ll wear them unless he’s actually in love with her.”

Now Jin’s curiosity was aroused, and against his mature adult brain’s warnings, he followed his impulsive teenage brain’s idea instead.

~~~

Yoongi and Seo-ah’s house

Seo-ah blinked her eyes open, feeling surprisingly rested. Where was she? Oh, yes, her new husband’s bed. He was awake already, looking at her for who knows how long. She blushed, reaching up to pat her bedhead down. 

“How long were you awake?”

“Not long.”

His already sensual voice was even worse better in the morning, she found out, feeling something when he spoke. 

“So, about last night…”

She hummed, closing her eyes, still too asleep to remember.

“You called me Yoon.”

Her eyes flew open. “Sorry, was that inappropriate?”

He shook his head, one arm emerging from the covers to pat her still-mussed hair down. “I haven’t been called Yoon in years. It was nice to hear. Nicknames really sell the act, too, don’t you think?”

“You’re right…yeobo.”

His eyes crinkled at her teasing advance.

“Glad you agree, jagiya.”

A scratch at the door made Yoongi turn, eyes narrowing. 

“Would that be your sister?”

Seo-ah shrugged in confusion. “Jinah?”

A loud yelp sounded from outside, and Seo-ah rushed out of bed. Yoongi halted her at the door, putting his arm in front of her and quietly wrapping his hand around the knob and turning. 

He yanked it open to reveal Jinah holding one of his nice kitchen knives in the air, pointed at his second and his second’s wife, who were directly outside the door.

“What is going on?”

[dearestagonya]

How do you create an OC? What are your steps for developing an OC?

When I create original characters, I don't always start with the same steps each time. The first thing I do though, is get inspired. Just about anything these days will give me oc inspiration. But here I will list a few things:

Playing the Sims 4. - I might hop into create a sim and create a character and then decide - hey this could be a great idea for an oc. Now, have I ever made an oc based off of one of my sims? Not yet. But I have created my ocs in the sims for fun.

Scrolling through Pinterest. - Pinterest is a great place to find faceclaims on - especially for characters in anime. Sometimes I'll be scrolling through there and find a faceclaim that I want to use for an oc. Then I decide to start working on their biograpghy.

Looking through the gif tags on tumblr. - This falls into the same vein as the Pinterest one. I look through the tags, find a faceclaim and then boom, I want to use their faceclaim for a new oc.

Watching television shows / movies. - Sometimes watching tv is all it will take for me to get oc inspiration. I'll get obsessed with a show and then want to make an original character in that fandom.

Looking on Feralfront. - My old roleplay stomping grounds. Sometimes I go there to look up info on my old ocs. I may take bits of information from a previous oc of mine and add it to a new one I'm creating.

Seeing a Pretty name. - Sometimes I'll see or hear a pretty name and my brain goes, I must use them as a name for an oc.

A random idea that popped into my head.

@heartsbloomed // // questions for the mun meme.

The rest of this is going under a read more, because it was getting very long and I didn't want people on my dash to have to scroll past this long post.

Next, usually comes the biography. And this is where I really have to think about how I want my oc to be. Depending on the fandom they're in or the faceclaim they have or even their name can depend on the type of character I'm trying to create.

For example : if my character is in the Supernatural fandom, they'll probably be a badass hunter type of character. But if they're in Criminal Minds, they might be a smart scientist. Some characters though, might be completely fandomless, in which case the above doesn't apply to them.

Next, while working on the biography I'll need to find a faceclaim for my character and give them a name, if I have not done either of these things already.

Usually when it comes to me writing characters, I like to flesh them out a lot. So when I start with their biography usually I'll list all of the basics : Full Name, Nicknames and any aliases. Their age, astrological sign, birthday, gender, pronouns, and sexual orientation. Where they grew up and where they currently live. As well as where they were born. A written description of their appearance.

And then we get to the personality. What traits does my character have? Both positive and negative. Then what things do they like and dislike? Along with hobbies and any jobs they've had. As well as their mental and physical health.

Then comes the backstory. Coming up with the backstory can take a while if you don't know where to start. After that, I usually write information about their family and pets. And if they're a supernatural being, I have a section for that too with what species they are. And what powers and abilities they might have.

Now, you don't have to go as detailed as I do. Their name, age, gender, sexual orientation, personality, and backstory is really all a person needs before they start writing as their oc. But I like to really flesh out my characters.

Sometimes, there may even be sections on my biographies I leave blank, because I want to flesh the character out more with writing. And sometimes the best way to develop your character is to just start writing them with others. Depending on the situation your character is in, it can impact how they develop over time.

Next would come the alternate universes, granted you want your character to have them. If there are different fandoms you want your character to be able to fit into easily, sometimes alternate universes can be useful. Or if you want to explore different events in your character's life, you can create verses for that too.

And once that is done, you have your own oc! I hope this was helpful for you or anyone else on my dash. Each person comes up with their ocs differently. But generally, if you're going to have an oc, you should give them a biography, so people can learn about your character before diving head in.