#this was a way longer rant than I anticipated

[fandomsmadness]

With less than a day to go for ep6...

TBHX episode 5 rant

I swear I spend more time ranting than watching the episode. Do these keep getting longer?

First of all can someone link me to the soundtrack when the trust value thing happened, please, for the love of god I need it.

Second of all we've moved from Nice/Lin Ling's shock value cliffhangers to E-Soul/Yang Cheng's anticipation cliffhangers and I love it (we pray that ep 6 does not happily prove me wrong).

Like someone give me answers, gosh.

The opening itself was interesting for me, because there was a reversal of the previous episode's ending.

In particular, if episode 4 showed us Yang Cheng as E-Soul trying to warn Lin Ling but failing, this was probably a very traumatic moment for him. Yep, let's all traumatize our boy heroes, I'm sure that'll turn out just fine. What next, we see Xia Qing get shot in the head too? (that was a joke, don't make it happen).

The time rewind is also interesting; although I found myself having to constantly chant "5 years before Lin Ling, 5 years before Lin Ling" the entire time, my simp-for-worldbuilding self is very happy with all the additional context this gives.

And this episode delivers, giving us a lot of worldbuilding to think about.

The elephant in the room with this ep is trust value and how it works. On the last ep rant I theorized that trust value is two-sided, and I'm going to stick to that one, because we actually see trust value being bestowed on a person this episode and interesingly enough, it's on E-Soul, not Yang Cheng.

But Yang Cheng is an actor, with clear skill given that the only reason he didn't proceed in the contest was his trust value (or lack thereof). Pomelo also mentions how he hates the outdated stories, props, and costumes, but consistently tells Yang Cheng that he has E-Soul's "vibes." Yang Cheng has low self esteem about his own self, but aspires to be E-Soul, just like Lin Ling thought he wanted to be Nice. We had an entire episode's worth of story that showed us Yang Cheng in fact wanted to be worthy of E-Soul even before his parents were killed. And at this point, he is in costume, trying to beat up the bad guys. I think he in the heat of the moment accepted the trust value instead of going "oh hey wait I'm not E-Soul, that should go to him."

There's more to my musings now, however.

There seems to be a difference between belief and trust. Belief seems to be something that can collectively reshape abstract reality, such as believing a particular spot spells romatic fortune. Belief seems to apply in a more broader and vague manner, while trust value is more focused and more powerful.

I'm sure Yang Cheng have people believing in him (in the vague way) such as his uncle and Xia Qing, but only Pomelo trusts that he is a hero capable of saving him. And the more focused the trust value is, the more it seems to make a person. Yang Cheng with a single, but very focused - you are E-Soul - trust value managed to best two people who were armed and ostensibly decent in combat.

But now we're left with more questions (nobody is surprised by this). Does this trust value apply to Yang Cheng? E-Soul? Yang Cheng as E-Soul? Perhaps the next episode would provide answers, but it's more likely we'll be provided with more questions instead.

Aside from the worldbuilding that carries the series, this arc in particular is carreid by its characters. Yang Cheng and Pomelo were an adorable duo and I really hope I get to see more of them. Kid is too smart for his own good but I hope he sticks around to ground Yang Cheng during whatever happens from this point on.

Was he kidnapped because of Yang Cheng, or was there something more to it? His sister certainly didn't seem to have too many questions when they got back, which I found weird.

Shang is an enigma and it's all too easy to hate him for his consistently atrocious timing but other than his nauseatingly obvious hustle culture mindset he does seem to be... okay? For now? Giving Xia Qing extra tickets so she could ask Yang Cheng was supportive. Too supportive.

And lastly, E-Soul.

In 34 years he has never taken off his mask, and it's telling. Looks like Nice isn't the only hero who is a concept. It's possible, but very unlikely, that E-Soul is a single person. He sounds noticeably older and more tired during his speech than he did 16 years ago (obviously) and the contest seems geared to finding a replacement for him, which is why the guy with no trust value is bypassed but why Shang was so quick to get to Yang Cheng when he displayed herosim. The current E-Soul basically admits that the mask is what the people trust and what garners hope. Who is behind the mask is unimportant.

But trust value (and its lack) is also shown to be a way to discriminate in this world, and this may also be why Yang Cheng never proceeded.

For a hero who only has two more episodes centered on him, we still have too many unanswered questions about E-Soul. Who is the nemesis from his PV? Was the E-Soul we saw in episode 3 Yang Cheng? Was it E-Soul we saw in episode 4? How does this all tie in?

And lastly, the new hero we get is Lucky Cyan. Does anyone know when Lucky Cyan became a hero, because I'm wondering...

...is she just becoming popular now, 5 years before the Lin Ling arc? Will Yang Cheng/E-Soul have a role to play in her becoming a hero?

Too many questions, not enough answers.

[miwsolovely]

—THE SMELL OF BOOKS

𝜗𝜚 — in which, two book nerds start to fall for each other; you both meet your other half through wuthering heights

PROF!JASON TODD x PROF!READER no angst, fluff all around, university professor inconsistencies ( ? ), university au

— so sweet made my own teeth rot, love this sm, not requested —

JASON TODD, the enigmatic literature professor you’ve heard whispers about from students and staff alike, is known for two things: his sharp intellect and his tendency to disappear into the university library for hours on end. He’s a mystery to most, but you’ve caught glimpses of him during faculty meetings—usually seated at the back of the room, arms crossed, half-listening while his mind seems to wander elsewhere. There’s something about the way he carries himself; a quiet confidence, a brooding edge that sets him apart from the other staff.

It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that you finally had your first real interaction with him.

You’d been in the library, hunting for a specific book you needed for your class, when you spotted him at one of the tables near the back, surrounded by an intimidating tower of books. He was scribbling notes into a leather-bound notebook, a pen held loosely between his fingers. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and he didn’t seem to notice when you hesitated at the edge of his table.

“Do you mind if I—” you’d started to ask, gesturing toward the book you needed, which was stacked precariously near his elbow. But he’d looked up at you then, his eyes catching yours, and the rest of your sentence had faltered.

“Go ahead,” he’d said simply, leaning back in his chair and giving you enough space to reach for the book. His voice had been low, smooth, with just the faintest hint of amusement, like he could tell you were caught off guard.

From that moment on, you seemed to keep running into him. Sometimes in the library, where he’d nod at you in acknowledgment before diving back into his work. Sometimes in the hallways between classes, where he’d offer a quick, dry remark that left you wondering if he was teasing you. And, most recently, in the faculty lounge, where he’d sat across from you with an extra cup of coffee waiting for you while casually commenting on the book you were reading.

“Pride and Prejudice?” he’d said, raising an eyebrow. “A classic, sure, but let me guess—you’re teaching it as part of a ‘romance through the ages’ module?”

You’d blinked at him, startled, before recovering. “It’s for my Romantic Literature course, actually,” you’d replied, bringing the cup of coffee to your lips, trying to hide a smile. “What, are you going to tell me it’s overrated?”

He had smirked at that, his eyes glinting with something playful. “Not at all. Austen’s wit is sharper than most people give her credit for. I just didn’t peg you as the type to lean on the obvious choices.”

You’d rolled your eyes, but the conversation had spiraled from there, stretching far longer than you’d anticipated. Before you knew it, the coffee in your cup had gone cold, and you were debating the merits of Byronic heroes with someone who could match your passion word for word.

Now, you find yourself looking forward to the moments when your paths cross. There’s an energy about him that’s magnetic, a sense that he’s holding back just enough to keep you intrigued. And though he might spend most of his time holed up in the library or tucked away in his office, you’ve started to notice the way his eyes linger on you when you pass each other in the halls, the way his lips twitch into the faintest of smiles when he catches you mid-rant about a frustrating student or an impossible superiors deadline.

It’s on one of those late evenings in the library that everything shifts.

You’re grading papers at a table in the corner, the quiet hum of the library settling over you like a blanket, when you hear the scrape of a chair being pulled out. You glance up to find Jason lowering himself into the seat across from you, his ever-present notebook tucked under one arm.

“Didn’t expect to see you here this late,” he says, setting the notebook on the table and leaning back in his chair. His gaze flickers to the stack of papers in front of you. “Let me guess—midterms?”

“Something like that,” you reply, surprised but not unhappy to see him. “What about you? Aren’t you usually buried in the philosophy section by now?”

He smirks, folding his arms. “Thought I’d check in on my favorite person in this dump. Make sure you’re not losing your mind over comma splices.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head. “Tempting fate, aren’t you? What if I say I already have?”

“Then I’ll sit here and keep you company until you’re sane again,” he says lightly, but there’s a warmth in his tone that catches you off guard. It’s the first time he’s made it clear—he notices you too, maybe more than you’d realized.

And as the evening stretches on, the papers forgotten between quiet conversation and shared silences, you think that maybe, just maybe, this strange, brilliant man is about to become more than just a passing presence in your life.

He’s nicer now.

You don’t know where it came from but maybe it's because he's been nice enough to lend you his jacket when you forget yours, the scent clinging to it wrapping around you so snugly you wish it’d stay there forever — or more likely the way he looks down at you with his molten hazel eyes; but you don't put up much of a fight.

Not when he brings you your coffee every morning with sweet words hanging from his lips and a firm hand on your lower back, guiding you to your seat. Your skin feeling warm after every touch.

In your respective classrooms, teaching separate things, your mind always drifts to the way he’d say specific things in his specific way.

How you’d love to watch him talk about how an author wrote something and why, the spark that you noticed never died from the comforts of his chest that you’d love to lay your hand on, feel the beating of his heart and sync yours with it.

Now as you sit at your desk, trying, to come up with what tomorrow’s lecture will be about and having your students projects graded by the weekend, your mind drifts.

The smell of his cologne that clings to him the way you dream you would, the sharp edges of his face you wish to trace gently, his smile that you want to gaze at day in and day out.

You groan and rub your face with your hands, exasperated. At yourself for thinking of him, or at him for plaguing your mind like this.

“Don’t tell me you’re stressed about me, doll?”

You blink up at him, your hand still half-covering your face. His figure leans casually against the doorframe, one hand tucked into the pocket of his slacks, the other holding a worn book. That familiar grin is plastered across his face—mischievous and warm, the one that’s always been your undoing, the one that revealed itself after he became comfortable with you.

“Mr. Todd,” You manage, your voice coming out more startled than you’d like. “What are you doing here?”

He steps into the room, his steps unhurried, confident, as if he belongs here. And, in a way, he does. He sets the book down on your desk—a leather-bound copy of Wuthering Heights, of course—before leaning against the edge, his hip brushing the stack of ungraded papers.

“I was walking past and heard you groaning,” he teases, folding his arms over his chest. “Figured you needed a rescue.”

You roll your eyes, though the corner of your mouth betrays you by twitching upward. “I wasn’t groaning, just . . . thinking.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I mean, I did feel my ears burning?”

Warmth rises to your cheeks, and you quickly duck your head, busying yourself with the papers on your desk. “You wish.”

He laughs, low and rich, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He leans in slightly, close enough that you can catch the faint scent of his cologne—the smell you were just thinking about. “Don’t I?” he murmurs, his voice softer now, teasing but laced with something more sincere.

You pause, your hand freezing mid-motion. When you glance up, his eyes are fixed on you, studying your face as if it’s a puzzle he’s determined to solve. It’s disarming, how easily he can shift from playful to serious, from cocky to earnest.

“You’re impossible, Jason,” You mutter, though there’s no real bite in your tone. Not when his name slips off your tongue like molasses, slow and warm.

“And yet, here I am,” he counters smoothly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

He lets out a breath. “So, what’s got you all worked up? Can’t be the papers.” He gestures to the stack dismissively. “You’ve handled worse.”

You sigh, leaning back in your chair and rubbing the back of your neck. “It’s nothing. Just . . . a long day.”

Jason tilts his head, unconvinced. But instead of pushing, he reaches for the book he’d brought in, gazing at the cover with a look you can’t identify.“You know,” he starts, his tone casual, “I’ve got this theory about Catherine and Heathcliff.”

You frown, caught off guard. “A theory?”

He nods, settling into the chair across from your desk as if he has all the time in the world. “Yeah. But I’ll only share it if you promise to stop stressing and listen.”

Despite yourself, You smile, leaning forward. “Fine. Let’s hear it.”

Jason reaches over and flips to the page he marked, his fingers brushing over the worn edges of the paper like it’s something sacred. You wonder if he marked the page thinking of you.

“See, people think Catherine and Heathcliff are this tragic love story,” He begins, his voice steady and confident. “But I think they’re more like two halves of the same storm—always colliding, always tearing things apart, but never quite able to exist without the other.”

You tilt your head, intrigued despite yourself. “That’s not exactly revolutionary,” you tease, your lips twitching into a smile. “Most people agree their relationship was toxic.”

Jason smirks, leaning back in his chair, watching his hair framing his face in a way that makes you want to take a picture and treasure it forever. “Toxic, sure. But that’s not what I’m talking about. It’s not about their relationship—it’s about their identities. They’re not just in love with each other. They’re in love with the parts of themselves they see in each other. That’s why they can’t let go.”

You blink, momentarily caught off guard by his insight. It’s not just what he says—it’s the way he says it, with that spark in his eyes, that fire that reminds you why you fell for him in the first place. “That’s. . . actually a good point,” you admit, crossing your arms. “But what about Cathy marrying Edgar? Doesn’t that contradict your whole theory?”

Jason chuckles, the sound low and warm. “Not at all. Cathy’s not choosing Edgar over Heathcliff—she’s choosing safety. Stability. But deep down, she knows she’s lying to herself. She says it outright: ‘I am Heathcliff.’ She can’t separate herself from him, no matter how hard she tries.”

You lean forward, resting your chin in your hand as you watch him. There’s something mesmerizing about the way he talks—so passionate, so sure of himself. It’s like the rest of the world fades away, leaving just the two of you and the story he’s spinning.

“And what about Heathcliff?” you ask softly. “What’s he in love with?”

Jason’s expression softens, and for a moment, he looks almost vulnerable. “He’s in love with the idea of her. The version of her he thinks he knows. But it’s not real. She’s as much a ghost to him as she is to anyone else by the end.”

The room falls quiet for a moment, his words hanging in the air between you. You study his face, the way his brow furrows just slightly, the way his jaw tightens like he’s holding something back. It hits you then how much of himself he sees in the story, how much of his own life he’s probably pouring into his interpretation.

“Jason,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. He glances up at you, and for a moment, the walls he’s built around himself seem to crack, letting you see the man beneath the bravado.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice quieter now.

“Thank you.” The words are simple, but you mean them. For showing up, for distracting you, for reminding you why you fell in love with stories—and with him—in the first place.

His lips curve into a small, genuine smile, and he closes the book, setting it aside. “Anytime, doll,” he murmurs, his voice as soft as yours.

And as the two of you sit there, the papers and the worries forgotten, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this is your own version of a love story—messy, complicated, and beautifully imperfect.

It’s in every look, every moment, and every damn smile.

©miwsolovely do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms . likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated <3

[parachutingkitten]

I'm hearing all your points here, and I definitely agree with most of them. I think the main thing here is that, regardless of what comes next, the first full two seasons of the show have done a very bad job at setting up this supposed arc (which they've potentially been trying to set up this entire run time), so however it ends, it is going to be a poorly written arc, because the set up was kind of botched. Even if season three shows us some actual flaws in Lloyd's mentorship, it will be behaviors we see begin AFTER it has supposedly already driven Arin away. I don't see a way to retcon your way into a great arc about Lloyd's failures as a teacher, because currently the show gives us no tangible failings, even though we've already seen the supposed fall out of them. It's backwards.

The one time I think we actually see Lloyd do something you *might* be able to perceive as genuinely hurtful is when he refuses to go after Jay- and even then the narrative has multiple people on our team taking his side and thoroughly explaining the logic behind it. We're supposed to be disappointed sure, but they can't even stomach framing this as Lloyd making a bad call.

I think part of the problem is that having Lloyd fail as a teacher and mentor for his students for longer than an episode's length of time, means that all the little kids who look up to your main character are also going to be hearing and absorbing flawed lessons from him in that time. There's nothing you can really do to stop that, he's been the face of the franchise for too long to not have kids idolize him, so unless you're making a reboot rated for teens, you just can't have the narrative commit to him using advice or methods that are fundamentally flawed for a prolonged period of time.

This is part of the reason I THOUROUGHLY believe the narrative will not be giving any leeway to Ras's methodology. Ninjago has never been a show for gray area, and I really don't see it starting here. The narrative goes out of its way to tell us Ras is hiding the truth about the merge, and manipulating facts to a disingenuous degree. In the very few words we get from Ras about his plan, it sounds more like he wants to resegregate the realms rather than get back what the merge took away (could be totally wrong about this, this is just vibes), and he literally shatters the good out of people as part of his plan. I don't think they're going to try and find balance with that.

The delegation plot is not one I think would fix this problem. It doesn't really have set up either, and as you said, wouldn't answer my initial frustrations in the most satisfying way- but if any arc we get at this point is inevitably going to be half baked, I would prefer it be one we haven't seen him do before. And Lloyd cracking under the pressures of his lineage isn't exactly new. You could lean into Lloyd isolating himself and his responsibilities in season three and get just as good a humility plotline as you would a potential Wu plotline. Both have a one off episode focusing in on the concept, and some vague hints otherwise thrown around here or there. Neither would end in a good full series arc, but one of them would definitely be my personal preferred option.

Also, I don't know that my theoretical wish fulfillment arc would necessarily focus on a need to take care of everything on his part, but rather the idea that he ties his self worth to his ability to do these things, to be a Master. He has low self esteem because he is expected to be a Master, but feels he can not do it. Him delegating that responsibility alone certainly does not solve that resolve that issue, it would probably just make him more depressed, but proving he can be a master doesn't necessarily do it either. You would need the arc to focus more on the disentangling of those two concepts- his ability to teach and his self confidence. Sure, him realizing he does have what it takes to be a master would validate his confidence, but him realizing that being a master is not a measure of his worth is, I think, a higher realization than that, and a more permanent stabilization for his confidence. And letting go of the master position all together in good spirits would be ultimate proof that he has moved past that attachment. You'd have to do a lot in between his starting point of unconfidence and his eventual giving up of the role, but it would track long term, assuming you don't mess it up.

Maybe Lloyd just shouldn't be a master.

He's clearly not very good at it. He's been trying it since season 5, and his first real students both take FOREVER to make any progress. Sora takes a whole season to unlock her powers, but apparently isn't taught spinjitzu in any of that time- the literal first thing we see taught to any of our characters in the original show. Arin somehow makes backwards progress with Lloyd, and then after doing like three poses with his friend seems to get it instantly.

Like... seems like he's just not very good at teaching. Maybe he should hand the position over to Kai, he's got a natural knack for it, a lot more experience, and a much higher success rate as far as I'm concerned. Master Kai for the win.

[luvwestwood]

"Build a Bear" - Nanami Kento

3,077 words.

note: just re-posting this as i'm no longer shadow-banned, enjoy kento slutting you out in the victoria secret changing rooms lol

content warnings: nsfw (18+), sex, breeding, dom! nanami, pet names (princess/slut, doll etc), changing room sex, hair pulling, you walk around the mall with his cum stuffed into you lol, quickies, standing sex, semi-public sex? kento sluts you out in the vs changing rooms lol

banner cred. @/yunonoai on twt/ig

Nanami was your boyfriend of almost one year, and you must say, things were going pretty well. He was a gentleman, who was able to prove 24/7 that chivalry isn't dead at all. Kento was all you could ever ask for, and usually you'd spend your days with him wondering how did you end up with a man like the Kento Nanami?

Kento loved to spoil you rotten. He was more of a giver than a receiver. Acknowledging the fact that he’s financially stable, earns way more than what he needs, of course— the rest will go to you, his beloved girlfriend. It was almost like.. he found pleasure in doing it. He always anticipated the big cheesy smile on your face when he comes home with bags full of everything. He's always eager to whip out his sleek black credit card at any given moment as if it was toy money.

Hair curler not working anymore? You’d be getting a new one the next day. Your car broke down? Look out into the driveway the next morning. He ripped your panties the night before? You’ll wake up to four bags full of bespoke lingerie, all specially made for you.

Today was Thursday, which meant either two things. One, it could just be a normal Tuesday. Two, it was Nanami’s payday. And so you know what that means…

“Anywhere else you'd like to go?" Kento followed behind you, all of your shopping bags from earlier in his grasp. Both hands full. Don't forget, he was a respectful guy. He'd never let you carry anything, even if you wanted to. "We have all the time in the world."

You let out a hum, thinking. "Hmm.." You continued, "Maybe Victoria's Secret? I heard theres a 4 for 15€ sale happening on the undies!" The two of you step onto the escalator, Nanami behind you. "And that will be it. I don't want to spend anymore."

"Doll, you already know what I'm gonna say to that." He lets out a labored sigh, looking up at you as you look down at him. You turn around and frowned.

"...I know, but.." You pause your words as Kento abruptly cuts you off. It was as if he was doing this so you speak no further about this matter which you bring up every now and then. Okay.. maybe every time Kento brings you on a shopping splurge.

"Hey- eyes forward, we're getting off the escalator." He quickly moves all shopping bags to one hand, using the free one to guide you off the escalator by gently pressing on your back. It was good timing, cause it allowed you to shut your mouth before you go on your daily rant about how he spends too much money on you, and that you would like to be independent for once.

"Okay, but.." You turn to him as soon as you enter the store; the sweet smell of the body mists and dark, sultry ambience of the place enticing you. "You never let me give you anything in return. I want to do something for you for once." You say this in a stern whisper, as it was more of a small but silly couple's quarrel, and you didn't want other customers to get the wrong idea between you and Nanami.

You hold eye contact with him as he returns the same, Kento remains silent before you see the evident glint in his eyes as an idea sparks in his thoughts.

"Alright then," He ushers you to a quieter part of the store, specifically where last season's lingerie was displayed. "You wanna do something for me?"

You aggressively nod in response. "Yes pleaseeee, anything." Tugging on his blue dress shirt, you quietly beg. Beg that he'd let you do something for him for once.

He looks around the store for a moment to see if anyone else was browsing close enough to where you two were standing. The coast is clear.

"Hmm.." The suspense was killing you. "How about, you and I head to the changing rooms.." Oh, I know where this is going. "I stuff you full of my cum, then we walk out like nothing happened."

You froze. Completely. You weren't mortified, just amazed at how he was able to come up with something like this. "Wh- Ken, are you craz-?!"

"Ah- bap bap bap- I'm not done." He shushes you immediately. "After all that, I buy you a set of lingerie that I get to choose, which you'll wear later tonight." You notice that he holds a tighter grip on the handles of the shopping bag - his sleeves were rolled up and you could see the veins straining on his forearm. Kento was most likely turned on at the thought of what he had just said.

Your own throat goes dry, causing you to swallow your own spit. With furrowed brows you approach him closer to whisper what you were supposed to say less than twenty seconds ago - "..Are you out of your mind?"

He just shrugs his shoulders. "You said you wanted to do something for me, so I gave you an idea for that exact something."

Skeptical, you frantically look side to side before you let out a blabber of words. "What is this, Build-A-Bear?!" And that's exactly what it was. Although he was a gentleman outdoors, and of course indoors; but he's a completely different story under the sheets, Kento never failed to amuse you.

He wanted to stuff you full of his cum in the changing rooms like the bears at Build-A-Bear that get violated by the metal rod that pumps out the fluff. Then, when he's happy about how full you are, he'll pull your panties back up before bringing you back out like nothing happened, choosing a new lingerie set for his eyes to feast on later tonight.

Nanami stayed silent as he watched you think. The two of you weren't talking, your feet grounded in the same position. But he knows your hard-thinking face when he sees it, and he can tell that you're considering the offer. Maybe you were tempted.

You cross your arms. "Fine. But tell me how they're gonna allow us to stay in those changing rooms for more than ten minutes. You know how they are... in a store like this."

Nanami, with his free hand, reached over to the rack beside you, that displayed cute baby-doll sets in various colors. You watched as he grabbed one in every color - he at least took five. In pink, black, red, blue and purple. "That'll give us enough time."

Your stomach fluttered at his remark, was he really going to blow your back in the changing rooms right now? Oh God, if we were to get caught I'm never showing my face in this mall ever again.

You squint at him before turning around, unable to catch the pleasurable grin he had ended your conversation with.

The two of you walked to the back of the store where the changing rooms were, with occasional glares behind you to Nanami. You were practically scolding him with his eyes. Luckily it was more secluded and closed off in the back, and the fact that it was only Thursday resulted in the mall being the complete opposite of busy. That meant no staff will continuously pester you to hurry up, as there are others waiting in the queue.

As you approached the changing rooms, a brunette girl came up to the both of you. You assumed she was a worker by the lanyard on her neck. "Hi, how many?"

You held up the hangers, smiling awkwardly. "..Six items." She weirdly ogled you due to the amount of items you had and don't forget, they were all the same item just in different colours.. As if it were her business anyways.

"Oh- I couldn't make up my mind.. I h-had to try them all." Your breath hitched as you told a lie, you heard Nanami snort behind your back as he listened to how ridiculous you sounded.

Fortunately the girl let it slide. "...Okay, follow me." She walked down the hall of changing rooms until she reaches the one at the very far end. Of course, you and Kento followed. You chewed onto the skin of your lip, gripping onto the mesh fabric of the baby-doll dresses as you walked.

The worker unlocks the door with the key on her lanyard, pulling it open and stepping aside. Only yourself enters first, and you turn around to the two of them. "You can just.. wait for me outside of the door babe." You cycle glances between the worker and Kento. The worker thinks nothing of it. Your boyfriend just nods, smiling as he stepped a bit further back from the door, leaning against the wall behind him.

The girl makes a comment before closing the door. "There's a special button on the wall, if you need any assistance with sizing. Just press it if you need anything."

You take a look at the button before smiling at her, and saying thanks. The door finally closes. You give yourself a minute, taking a look at yourself in the mirror, breathing in and out. You place the hangers on the rail, and your purse on the tiny stool in the corner.

The worker was long gone, it seems that she was occupied with stocking the body-mist shelves outside. Nanami was still waiting outside of the door, until the sound of a lock turning was heard followed by you opening it slightly. Your head poking out in the tiny gap you made.

"..C-come here." You whisper, before he moves himself away from the wall, entering the changing room with you in it.

Nanami wasted no time, immediately grabbing the door open wider with his free hand, locking it behind him. Dropping all the bags on the ground, his lips found yours first. The two of you gently move against the wall, his hands roaming all over your body - but cups your face in the end.

"Are you sure?" He had to double check. Kento wasn't the type of guy to force you into anything you didn't want to do, he always made sure you were comfortable doing it. That's another reason why you loved him so dearly.

Breathing heavily, you eagerly nodded in response. He peppers a trail of kisses from your lips down to your neck, causing you to let out a breathy moan of his name in response. "..K-Kento," You shiver as you felt him plant wet kisses just below your jaw, the obvious tent growing as you continuously call out his name. In return, you wrap your arms around his neck like a sloth, whimpering and moaning as he reaches your sweet spots.

He groans as he indulges himself in your scent, which he never fails to lose his mind about. You were just irresistible and each time he had you - Nanami just yearned for more. The way you'd be dripping wet even though he barely laid a finger on you, and how sensitive you were to his own touch. It felt like he had won the lottery by just being with you.

Considering the time you two had, Kento quickly went back to kissing you on the lips, this time with tongue. By the time he was finished, a string of spit connected your tongues as he pulled away. You look into his eyes before making a request. "..I need you in me."

"Turn around, stay against the wall." He says in short breaths as he tried to catch his own, clearly pent up by the intense make-out session the two of you just had. You obey, your cheek against the wall as he kept you in place.

You looked to your right to face the full length mirror, the cold air hitting the skin of your ass as he flipped your skirt up, followed by your panties being dragged down your legs. He kneels and places a small kiss on your dripping hole before standing back up into his original stance. He grabs a handful of your soft flesh, giving it a spank. The quiet gasps from your mouth only rousing him more.

He struggles with his belt, eager to get it unbuckled. Silently, you watch until he finally gets it, his hardened cock springing up onto his stomach as it finally was able to escape from his pants. Your heart palpitates like crazy at the sight of the arousal dripping from his pink tip, causing you to push back onto him when you weren't meant to - you needed him. Bad.

"..Be patient baby," he grins, after seeing how needy you've become.

You arch your back a bit more, putting your pussy on display to him. He did nothing but devour your body like a work of art with his own eyes. His warm hands snake onto your shoulder for support as he aligns the tip of his cock with your hole that was quite literally begging for him.

A sharp inhale comes from you as you felt his thick cock stretching you out. Kento heard this, and he quickly gave you a peck on the temple before gripping onto your flesh harder. As soon as he slid all the way in, he planted a few more kisses on your nape allowing you to adjust.

He gave you nothing but sweet, slow movements to make sure he didn't hurt you. His chin laid onto your shoulder as breathy moans slipped from his lips - this had only made your knees weaker.

Still pinned against the wall, you snaked your hand to the back of his head, pulling him closer. "G-go ha-arder." And so he did. Kento knew the difference between faster and harder, and he never mixed the two up.

You grab onto the wall for support as he ruts in to you harder, his cock covered with ring of creamy white near the shaft. The gel from his hair rather non-existent from the way you grabbed for it earlier.

"F-fuck," You moaned out, it had only made him go crazier each time you gasped his name or little curses under your breath. The noise of whimpering and squelches from each thrust echoing through the rather tiny changing room.

Your stimulation reaches peak as he fondled with your breasts each time he thrusted into you, his balls making a slapping noise along with them.

He gently tugged your hair into a pony, causing you to haul your face off the wall. "Look into the mirror doll," He spoke between soft grunts. "Watch how you take my big cock like the little slut you are." Your face was messed up, along with you hair at this point too. Each hair was no longer in place with its curl, and your lipstick had been rubbed off into different directions.

You felt his pace change not too drastically, but he continuously deeped onto your g-spot. Your knees weaken and he notices this, the knot in your stomach tightening as he felt your muscle clench non-stop around him.

"K-Kento.. I'm gonna..-" You gasp as he yanked the low cut collar of your top down, causing your boobs to slip out. He pulls you back onto his chest causing you to stand up straight, interlocking his forearms around your elbows. The two of you are now facing the mirror. Warmth of his chest hitting your back as you leaned against it.

You watch as your tits bounce with every deep thrust, Nanami whimpering quietly as he feels his balls tightening. "I-I need to cum..." You whispered, at this point your voice was no longer there. "Please..."

He leaned into your face as you rest the back of your head on his shouder, you were in a moment of bliss. "I know princess, cum all over my cock like a good girl."

And that did it for you. You moaned out loud, your intense orgasm washing over you, and Kento was quick enough to cover your mouth so no one from outside would hear the filthy things happening inside of a changing room as small as this.

Not long after, his warm ropes of cum filled you up constantly as he whimpered quietly, the two of you drained from the intense session.

You use your own two hands to grab onto the mirror decorating it with handprints. Kento breathed heavily as he watched his cock slip out from your hole. Before a drop slips out, he gently pushed two of his fingers in to make sure his load stays inside of you. And kindly enough, he pulled his panties back up for you.

"Thank you baby, you're too good for me." He combs your hair with his hands, putting it back into place before giving your cheek a soft kiss. You turn around and do the same, but this time on his lips.

"I love you, Kento. So much." You smiled, still a bit overstimulated but it was nothing you couldn't take. Your legs were a bit weak though, and it was time for you two to leave.

Just a few finishing touches before leaving, you made sure to fix straighten your top again as Nanami does the same to his signature animal print tie.

You turned to the untouched sets on the rack he had taken for you earlier, giggling as you had completely forgotten they were there. "I guess I didn't get to try them on," You smiled as you bunched up the hangers in your hand.

"I'm sure you'd still look beautiful in all of them regardless," He responded, picking up the bags off the floor and opening the door. Luckily no one was wandering the halls outside.

You rolled your eyes, walking out into the open as if you weren't stuffed with his cum right now. Kento walked beside you as he caressed your soft hair from the back, giving you another kiss on your head. "Hold on," Confused, you stopped in your tracks as he walked off somewhere else, calling out for one of the workers.

She was occupied with arranging the underwear into the sizing baskets. "Yes, may I help you?" She approached you both. It was actually the same girl from earlier.

"I'd like to buy everything in this store please, for my girlfriend over here." He asked, and he was serious. I mean, he's the Kento Nanami.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷

[saturnville]

centavito, jude bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham x she (black fem oc/reader) warning: none. just short. content: he wants her back and the chance is small, but he bets on his lucky coin that it'll work in his favor. song reference: centavito by romeo santos. an: it's been over 6 years since I wrote a football-related fic, so please give me some grace lol. and ofc, when I saw that there weren't many jude fics with a black reader/oc, I had slide one in there.

“I learned my lesson and I have been miserable without you. Please…one more chance.” 

The coin he twirled in his pocket was warm. His hands had fisted it tightly the entire walk to her front door. When he spoke, he turned it between his index finger and thumb over and over. There was only one way that it could go and that was up. So he hoped. 

She heard the voice of her grandmother in her ears as he took in his words. “If he fools you once, that’s on him! But, if he fools you again, he can’t be solely responsible. So, some people do change and I’m not gonna tell you he hasn’t, but it’s up to you to discern that for yourself, baby.” 

He didn’t cheat on her. He wasn’t mean, conniving, or deceitful. He simply didn’t appreciate her. When his life turned upside down and he became the wonder boy of the world, he forgot about her. She was pushed into the shadows when he promised she’d always be in the light. 

Suddenly, her rants about university exams and assignments weren’t interesting. Her love for the arts wasn’t fascinating. Long nights watching La Casa de Papel in her living room weren’t fun. Their nights in the kitchen trying new recipes were no longer a priority. She was no longer a priority. 

So, she left. She slid the promise ring off her middle finger, dropped it on his nightstand, and with tears in her eyes (and her head held high), she gathered her purse and went back to her apartment. She gathered all he’d gifted her and placed it in the box meticulously. Clothes and jerseys, books and letters--all prepared to be put into storage until she figured out where she truly wanted them to go. 

And just as she prepared to move the boxes into the storage unit after they’d sat in her bedroom corner for 17 days (yes, she counted), he was on the other side of the door, stopping her in her tracks. 

He looked fatigued, which could be credited to being a high-profile professional athlete, or as he put it, “Sleepless nights without you.” 

At that moment, he appeared so small. Not physically, per se, but emotionally. His eyes, usually bright and full of life, were dull and glossy with an emotion she couldn’t quite identify. Regret?

And when he spoke, he sounded like a chile who was trying not to choke over his words as he fought back tears. 

“Jude…” she said quietly, blinking back tears. Her hand was still tight around the door knob. “I don’t know.” She wanted him, sure, but she wasn’t willing to put herself in the position through an even worse heartbreak. But, at the same time, she believed what she’d said. 

“I’ll be better for you. I can’t lose you forever. One more chance, darling…please.” She’s never heard him beg in such a way. It made her insides stir.

Her jaw shifted as her eyes darted across his face, searching for any hint of dishonesty. Nothing or the sort. His eyes spoke what his mouth didn’t and it overwhelmed her greatly. I’m sorry, darling. 

“You love me?” she questioned after some time, her thick eyebrows furrowing. She wiped away the fallen tear that sped down her cheek. 

Jude nodded quickly. “I do. More than you know and more than I’ve shown you.” 

Her eyes moved quickly—she was thinking. He continued to fiddle with the coin in his pocket. Except his movements grew quicker as the anticipation grew.

“One chance,” she said after some time. “And you earn it.” 

Jude released the breath he was unaware he held and thanked the heavens above. Slowly, she moved out of the way to allow his entrance into her apartment. He closed the door behind him and pulled the coin from his pocket. Heads. 

 He smiled small. Little cent. The odds were finally in his favor. 

[jasmineandcedar]

Stepping away

I have written and rewritten this so many times it now turned into a full-blown incoherent ranting essay but I don’t really care anymore. I am trying to remain my usual level-headed self but I will allow myself one rant before I’m out. (Proceed with caution—I will be mentioning the pliant bones pile of shit below)

Until recently, I hadn’t fully grasped how vile this fandom can be. Blocking and filtering kept things tolerable for a while, but the closer we get to the announcement, the harder it becomes to escape the vitriol.

This has been my first fandom experience. I enjoyed ACOTAR offline for six years. It was a peaceful, enjoyable part of my life. Nothing about my love for the series has changed. The only thing that’s changed is that I no longer want to be part of this fandom.

(I have edited down this post a little since I first posted it, because I just don't want to be involved in any of this. I wanted it to be clear that I don't think this has to do with ships at all and I dont mind at all who people ship together. I also don't really want any of this to be seen, but I didn't want to just disappear.)

With the resurfacing of the ‘pliant bones’ garbage, the past few days have been the straw that broke the camel’s back for me. And that camel had been struggling. Holding itself together through sheer willpower. I’m surprised it lasted this long.

I am sure that most people in this fandom don't agree with the implications of this 'theory' but every time it resurfaces, it spreads in ways that make it impossible to avoid. It has become one of those cyclical shipwar debates, and ‘women with fertility issues’ are caught in the midst of it. Women who do exist and deserve better than this discourse. It is, in fact, more common than some might think to either struggle with fertility or not be able to have children at all.

I joined this fandom excited about Elriel. I never thought that excitement would turn into being constantly reminded of one of my life’s biggest pains. I never thought I’d have to filter the words ‘womb,’ ‘children,’ ‘pelvis,’ just to be part of the ACOTAR fandom. Because I could never have imagined a scenario where a couple that want each other being separated due to perceived fertility issues would be considered part of the basis of romance between another pair.

It’s the foundation of tragedy.

Even if one does not struggle with this oneself, it should be possible to imagine the pain of not being able to have children with the one you love. But people throw this argument around like they’re discussing the weather. Over a fictional ship! For some people, this is not just a hypothetical. It isn’t just an abstract concept. It isn't a dainty little literary device. It is a reality, and it is damn hard pill to swallow. In many cultures, the ability to have children is considered the very essence of womanhood, making the inability to do so an existentially painful reality to come to terms with.

I’m leaving. I don’t know if I’ll come back. Maybe if the hostilities die down, I will. I wanted to have fun alongside others who love Elriel and the other characters. I wanted to anticipate Elain’s book together. And I have had fun, but at a cost I’m no longer willing to pay.

To those who stay and continue creating—writing fics, poetry, theories, headcanons, and doing art—you’re the ones actually fighting the good fight, trying to make this space fun. Those who ride at dawn for the fics and the art. I tried to do the same. Five months was all I could manage. Now, I surrender. I’m no Elain. I’m not a rose in a mud field. I’m a miserable twig drowning in the dirt, who just wanted some goddamn memes and joy in life.

So, I’m going back to my peaceful offline existence. Enjoying my ACOTAR memes and inside jokes with my fiancé.

I’m going back to peace and quiet.

(Sorry for ranting)

[superwholock36]

~ A Little Taste of Heaven ~ (Peter Parker x Fem!Reader) (1/10)

Sorry for any mistakes! I don't have a beta and this is my first story I've ever put out there! ~ ❤️ Any feed back is much appreciated! I hope you all Enjoy!

Also it has been posted to ao3 as I have an account there under Kprincess3697 so it hasn’t been stolen, Love y’all 🥰

warnings : Mature themes/Explicit content/Action-packed violence/Emotional turmoil/Hostage situations/Romance/Angst summery "Spider-Man swings in to save the day, but ends up stealing more than just a moment—he gets caught in something a little more… complicated. 😉"

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🎵🎶Sweetest Pie • Megan Thee Stallion, Dua Lipa 🎶🎵(link to song)

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Moving to Manhattan had felt like stepping into an entirely new existence. Her old life—familiar routines, the safety net of her small circle—was now miles away, stored in memory boxes and cautious goodbyes. This was supposed to be her fresh start, her big break. She had landed a job at the New York Bulletin, after all.

The title alone had made her giddy with anticipation. A major magazine! She had imagined herself diving into editorial meetings, pitching bold ideas, and seeing her byline in glossy print. But reality had been far less glamorous. Instead of crafting stories, she spent her days running coffee orders, delivering memos, and juggling dry cleaning runs for senior staff.

An errand girl. That’s what she had become.

She fought to swallow the growing pit of disappointment every time her phone buzzed with yet another task. This wasn’t what she had dreamed of, but Manhattan wasn’t one for indulging dreams—it was a place where you either climbed or got swept away. And she wasn’t about to let the city win.

Navigating the bustling streets of Manhattan was like stepping into a current of unrelenting energy. Crowds surged past [Name] in every direction, the air thick with the aroma of street food mingled with exhaust fumes. She kept her head low, her messenger bag slung over one shoulder and her phone clutched tightly in her hand. She had just picked up lunch for her editor, the kind of errand that seemed to define her job lately.

She paused at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. The towering digital screens above her flickered, capturing her attention as they cut into their regular loop of advertisements. The unmistakable face of J. Jonah Jameson appeared, scowling and leaning forward in his signature style that made it seem like he was berating the entire city.

“This just in!” his gravelly voice boomed over the speakers, loud enough to drown out even the relentless honking of taxis. “Another so-called heroic escapade by your friendly neighborhood Spider-Menace. Earlier today, the webbed wonder was spotted in a disastrous attempt to thwart a robbery in Queens, leaving chaos in his wake!”

[Name] watched as shaky footage played on the screens, showing Spider-Man swinging between buildings, dodging blasts of some kind of energy weapon. The scene cut back to Jameson, his face practically crimson with indignation. “Let me be clear, folks,” he continued, wagging a finger for emphasis. “Spider-Man isn’t saving this city. He’s putting you in danger—plain and simple!"

The light changed, but [Name] found herself rooted to the spot for a moment longer, watching the broadcast. Around her, New Yorkers barely glanced up, accustomed to Jameson's rants and the endless stream of breaking news. To [Name], though, it was a strange reminder of the world she now lived in—a world where superheroes and supervillains were part of the daily grind.

She shook her head and stepped into the crosswalk, weaving through the sea of pedestrians. Whatever her own challenges were, she figured, at least she wasn’t tangled up in all that. For now, her focus had to stay on making her own way in this city, one step at a time.

===================================

[Name] pushed open the glass doors of the New York Bulletin, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and a warm bag of takeout wafting up from her hands. The front desk clerk barely glanced up as she hurried past, juggling the precarious tray and paper bag while trying to avoid bumping into her colleagues. Her heels clicked against the polished floor, echoing in a way that made her feel small—just another cog in the relentless machine of the magazine world.

She arrived at her boss’s office, setting the coffee and lunch order down on the edge of his sprawling mahogany desk. He didn’t even look up from his computer, offering only a curt “Thanks,” before diving back into whatever important task demanded his attention.

At her desk—a tiny corner carved out in the bullpen—[Name] pulled out her notebook. Her coffee-stained to-do list stared back at her, mocking her ambitions. Gripping her pen, she doodled absentmindedly in the margins, her thoughts drifting to the stories she wanted to tell, the words she was desperate to write. She couldn’t let this be her only reality. There had to be a way to prove herself, to claw her way out of the errands and into the writing she was born to do.

Before [Name] could take another sip of her now-lukewarm coffee, her work phone buzzed. The caller ID flashed her boss’s name—“Mr. Caldwell”—and she reluctantly answered.

“[Name], I need you to handle a few things for me,” Mr. Caldwell’s voice came through, brisk and to the point. “I’ve got an important meeting this afternoon with Diane Hartridge from Hamilton Publishing. Big deal for us. So, here’s what I need: send out those follow-up emails I dictated yesterday, book me a lunch appointment with Hartridge for next Tuesday, and drop off a package at this address.”

She heard the shuffle of papers on his end before he rattled off an address. [Name] scribbled it down on a notepad, recognizing the street as one not far from her own apartment.

“Yes, sir,” she said, forcing a professional tone into her voice. She could already feel the familiar twinge of frustration creeping in. Meetings with publishing executives, conversations about big deals—those were the kinds of things she had dreamed of being involved in. Instead, here she was, taking notes like an intern.

“And once you’ve dropped that off, you can take the rest of the day off,” Caldwell added, as though offering her a generous gift. “Consider it a breather. You’ve earned it.”

[Name] bit back a sigh. “Got it,” she replied, keeping her voice steady. Hanging up, she glanced at the tasks now piling up on her mental to-do list.

---------------------------------------------------------

Back at her desk, she typed furiously, knocking out the follow-up emails with clockwork efficiency. Each one had to be just so—polished, professional, and perfectly aligned with her boss’s expectations. Once she hit send on the last email, she tackled the lunch appointment, navigating the online booking system while fielding interruptions from passing colleagues.

Half an hour later, with her inbox cleared and the reservation confirmed, [Name] leaned back in her chair and allowed herself a fleeting moment of satisfaction. One set of tasks done.

Grabbing her bag and the package from the reception desk, she stepped out into the midday chaos of Manhattan. The familiar surge of people, cars, and noise hit her immediately, but at least the errand would take her near her neighbourhood. She adjusted the strap of her bag, holding the package securely under one arm as she navigated the sidewalks.

Moving in step with the endless tide of Manhattan pedestrians, [Name] felt almost invisible amid the city’s chaotic rhythm. As she turned the corner, a boutique caught her eye, its window display glowing softly under the midday sun. There, on a mannequin, was a dress that immediately drew her in—a soft lavender piece that was sweet and understated. The hem hit mid-thigh, just a few widths away from the knees, with delicate white lace ribbons crisscrossing over the bodice and tied into a playful little bow at the sweetheart neckline. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was undeniably feminine, with just the right touch of charm.

[Name] hesitated for only a moment before stepping into the boutique, the bell above the door chiming softly as she entered. The quiet hum of conversation and the fresh, clean scent that lingered in the air made the shop feel like a little oasis from the noise outside.

“Can I help you find anything?” a cheerful sales assistant asked, her warm smile matching the inviting atmosphere.

“I was actually hoping to try on the lavender dress in the window,” [Name] said, her voice laced with a shy excitement.

“Of course! Let me grab your size,” the assistant replied, quickly disappearing into the back.

A few minutes later, [Name] stood in front of a full-length mirror in the dressing room, smoothing out the soft fabric over her hips. The dress fit perfectly, the lavender colour complimenting her complexion and the crisscrossing lace ribbons adding a playful, feminine flair. She smiled, turning slightly to admire the way it flattered her figure. It was exactly what she needed for the get-together that evening—a simple yet pretty reminder that, even amidst the chaos of her first week, there was still room for moments like this.

“This is the one,” she told herself quietly, nodding with conviction as she stepped back into her own shoes.

Within minutes, she was back out on the street, the boutique’s shopping bag swinging lightly in her hand. The day didn’t seem quite as daunting now. Tonight, she’d celebrate in her new dress, and maybe—just maybe—she’d let herself believe that she belonged here, even if things hadn’t gone exactly as she had planned.

=========================================

The bass thumped through the crowded bar, reverberating under [Name]’s feet as she leaned on the high-top table. The evening had been a lively blur of laughter, drinks, and getting to know her colleagues—Hannah, who worked in layout design, and Megan, one of the junior writers. [Name] was starting to feel like she was finding her footing, a stark contrast to the awkward chaos of her first day.

“Wait, so you actually spilled coffee on him? On Caldwell?” Megan asked, her eyes wide with mock horror as she took a sip of her wine.

“Straight on him,” [Name] said, laughing despite herself. “It was everywhere—his desk, his papers, him. I thought I was going to be fired on the spot, but he just looked at me and said, ‘You’ve got five minutes to get me another latte.’”

“That’s iconic,” Hannah said, grinning. “Honestly, not bad for a first day. Could’ve been worse.”

They all burst into laughter, and Megan raised her glass. “To surviving your first week!” she declared, her enthusiasm infectious.

“To surviving,” Hannah echoed, clinking her glass against theirs.

[Name] couldn’t help but smile as their glasses met with a cheerful ring. She felt a spark of warmth in her chest, the camaraderie lifting her spirits. For the first time in a while, she felt like she belonged—at least, a little.

The moment shifted as a couple of guys approached their table, clearly familiar with Hannah and Megan. The women greeted them with easy smiles, the conversation quickly veering into shared anecdotes and inside jokes that [Name] didn’t quite follow. Not wanting to intrude, she offered to grab another round of drinks for the three of them.

Squeezing through the throng of people, she made her way to the bar. It was packed, but she managed to find a small gap to slide into, catching the bartender’s attention after a few minutes of patient waiting. As she rattled off their order, the music thumped louder, almost drowning out her voice. She shifted her weight, waiting for the drinks, when she felt a presence sidle up beside her.

“Hey there,” a man said, his voice just audible over the blaring music. [Name] turned her head to see him leaning against the bar, his shirt slightly untucked and a confident smirk on his face.

“You here alone?” he asked, his tone casually suggestive.

“No, I’m here with friends,” she replied, keeping her voice polite but firm. She’d dealt with this type before—overconfident, pushy, and oblivious to boundaries. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating.

“Ah, come on,” he pressed, leaning closer. “I could keep you company.”

“I’m good, thanks,” [Name] said sharply, her grip tightening on the bar as the bartender set the drinks down in front of her. She grabbed them quickly, balancing the glasses carefully in her hands. “Excuse me.”

The man stepped back, raising his hands as though he’d done nothing wrong. “Alright, alright. No need to be like that,” he said with a crooked grin before disappearing into the crowd.

By the time she got back to the table, her heart was steady again, her annoyance at the man already dissipating into the noise and energy of the bar. Hannah and Megan noticed her expression, though, their conversation pausing briefly.

“Everything okay?” Megan asked, setting her drink down.

“Yeah,” [Name] said, sliding the glasses onto the table. “Just some guy at the bar who couldn’t take no for an answer.”

“What a creep,” Hannah muttered, her gaze darting toward the bar. “Stick with us. We’ve got your back.”

Nodding grateful for the solidarity. She sat back down, forcing herself to focus on the laughter and warmth at the table. Encounters like that weren’t new to her, but they were never pleasant. Still, she wasn’t about to let one guy ruin her night.

As the night wore on, the music seemed to pulse through every corner of the bar, and she found herself swept up in the rhythm with Hannah and Megan. The three of them laughed as they danced in a small circle, occasionally bumping into each other as the crowd pressed around them. Hannah threw her arms up with exaggerated flair, spinning in time to the beat, while Megan leaned in to shout over the music, “You’ve got moves, girl! Where’ve you been hiding these?”

She laughed, shaking her head as she tried to keep up. For a few minutes, there was nothing but the pounding of the bass, the heat of the room, and the infectious energy of shared joy. They pulled her into a silly line dance, half stumbling and laughing through it, before dissolving into giggles at their own lack of coordination.

“I needed this,” Megan said, fanning herself dramatically as they paused to catch their breath. “Best idea ever.”

Hannah nodded, her cheeks flushed from both the dancing and her gin and tonic. “Agreed. But I think our admirers might have other ideas.”

The guys from earlier had appeared at the edge of the dance floor, waving them over with playful grins. Hannah shot Megan a look, and the two of them exchanged mischievous smiles before turning back to her.

“We’re gonna head out with them,” Hannah said, placing a light hand on her arm. “You okay getting home?”

She nodded, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Yeah, I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”

“Text us when you’re home, okay?” Megan said, pulling her in for a quick hug.

Hannah gave a quick wave as they linked arms with the two guys, disappearing into the crowd. Left alone under the flashing lights of the bar, she lingered for a moment, letting the music wash over her. The night had been fun—chaotic, vibrant, exactly what she needed—but as she glanced at the time on her phone, she decided it was probably time to call it herself.

Grabbing her bag, she slipped out of the bar into the cool embrace of the city night. The vibrant pulse of music and chatter faded as the door swung shut behind her, replaced by the layered hum of Manhattan—the sporadic honk of a cab, muffled voices from passing groups, and the occasional rumble of a subway train beneath her feet.

The air was crisp and carried the faint scent of rain on concrete, grounding her as she started walking. She pulled out her phone, glancing at the map briefly to reorient herself. The bar was in a part of the city she didn’t know too well, and the unfamiliar street names were a little disorienting. Still, she figured she’d find her way soon enough. After all, getting lost was part of the charm of living in Manhattan—wasn’t it?

She took a right, then a left, but the streets didn’t seem to align with where she thought she should be. A few blocks later, she realized she might have gone too far in the wrong direction. The tall buildings seemed to close in slightly, their windows glinting faintly under dim streetlights. Her grip on the strap of her bag tightened as she slowed her steps, scanning for a recognizable landmark.

Then she heard it. Footsteps. Heavy and deliberate. They weren’t her own.

Her heart tightened as she slowed her pace, ears straining against the quiet. She risked a glance over her shoulder but saw nothing—just the stretch of empty sidewalk behind her. A chill pricked at the back of her neck, and she shook her head, trying to dispel the creeping paranoia. It’s nothing, she told herself. Just someone else heading home.

But the sound didn’t fade. It grew louder. Closer.

Her heart raced as she quickened her pace, scanning the empty streets for something familiar. Turning into an alley in a desperate attempt to shortcut her way back, she froze. Ahead, blocking the far end, stood two burly men, their shadows stretched long under the dim, flickering streetlight. They didn’t move, but their stance left no question—they were waiting.

Her breath caught, and she spun around, instinctively stepping back toward the entrance she had come through. But her stomach dropped as she saw him. The man from the bar emerged from the shadows behind her, his hands stuffed casually into his pockets as if he’d been out for a leisurely stroll. His smirk was gone, replaced by something far darker. The gleam in his eyes sent a cold shiver down her spine.

He took a slow step forward, his movements deliberate, the click of his shoes echoing against the walls of the alley. “Looks like you got a little turned around,” he said, his voice low and sinister, the friendliness he had feigned earlier now stripped away. “Don’t worry. We’ll help you find your way.”

[Name]’s chest tightened, and her hand gripped the strap of her bag as her mind raced for an exit. Trapped between the men blocking her path and him closing in behind, she felt the weight of the alley pressing down on her like a vice. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but there was nowhere to go.

The man’s smirk twisted into something even darker as he stepped closer, the dim light catching the cold gleam in his eyes. She instinctively took another step back, her breath quickening, but before she could fully process her next move, he lunged.

The suddenness of it made her heart slam in her chest. She jerked back, her movement instinctual and desperate, only to collide hard with something solid. A startled gasp escaped her as she spun around, realizing too late that she had backed straight into the other two men. Their hands shot out like vices, one grabbing her by the arm, the other seizing her bag and yanking her balance off-center.

“Got her,” one of them muttered, his voice gravelly, the sound of it reverberating in her ears as panic clawed its way up her throat.

She twisted and pulled, trying to wrench herself free, but their grips only tightened. The man from the bar loomed closer now, his steps deliberate and almost lazy, as if he already knew the struggle was futile. He adjusted his sleeves, his calm movements a sinister contrast to the chaos surging through her body.

“You made this way too easy,” he said, his voice dripping with malice....

Before he could make contact, a cheery, almost sing-song voice interrupted. “Yoohoo!”

The man froze, his head snapping to the side as Spider-Man crouched casually on the edge of the building above them, giving an awkward wave. “I think it’s you who made this easy,” he quipped, the web-shooters on his wrists already aimed and primed. With a swift flick, a sticky line of web shot out, pinning the man to the brick wall behind him. His smirk disappeared in an instant, replaced by a look of shocked indignation.

“Hang tight,” Spider-Man said, hopping down into the alley with a graceful flip. He landed between [Name] and the two burly men, who were momentarily too stunned to move. “Alright, fellas. Who’s next?”

The bigger of the two lunged, throwing a wide, meaty punch in Spider-Man’s direction. Without breaking a sweat, Spidey caught the punch mid-swing, his free hand scratching at the back of his head as though this was all mildly inconvenient. “Man, you guys really need to work on your timing. Swing and a miss,” he said, twisting the man’s arm just enough to send him stumbling backward.

Before the other man could make a move, Spider-Man shot out another web, sticking his feet firmly to the ground. The guy flailed awkwardly, looking down at his now-immobile boots as Spider-Man turned to him. “And you,” he said, wagging a finger like a disappointed teacher. “I think you should apologize to the lady. Right now. Loudly. And use your nicest manners.”

He tilted his head toward [Name], who stood frozen in shock, her heart still racing from the encounter. Spider-Man turned back to the first man, webbed securely to the wall, and offered a mockingly thoughtful hum. “What about you, Smirky McCreepy? Anything to say for yourself? Or are you good hanging out there?”

The bigger man sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “Apologize? To her? Screw you, Spider-Man.”

“Yeah,” the other chimed in, struggling against the webbing that pinned his feet to the ground. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”

Spider-Man sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “You know, I try to give people a chance. I really do. But you guys just had to go and ruin it.” With a flick of his wrist, another web shot out, sticking the last man to the ground before he could even think about making a move. “There. Now you’re all grounded. Literally.”

He tapped the side of his mask. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you let the NYPD know we’ve got a few bad apples here? Alley off 12th and Main. Oh, and tell them to bring extra cuffs—these guys are a bit... sticky.”

“Message sent,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s calm voice replied in his earpiece.

Spider-Man turned his attention back to [Name], his posture relaxing as he approached her. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, his tone softer now. “I mean, I know this probably wasn’t how you planned your night, but... you’re safe now.”

Spider-Man shifted his weight from foot to foot, scratching the back of his head as if he’d suddenly forgotten how to stand properly. “So, uh,” he started, his voice cracking just slightly. “That was, uh, intense, right? I mean, not that I can’t handle it—I totally can—but, you know, I guess you didn’t sign up for alleyway creeps tonight.”

Her heartbeat was still racing, but his awkwardness was oddly comforting. She nodded, managing a small smile. “No, not exactly.”

“Yeah, figured,” he said, nodding along with her, as if trying to convince himself he wasn’t making things worse. “Uh, you’re not hurt or anything, right? No bumps, bruises, or weird Spidey-induced whiplash?”

“No, I’m fine,” she said, adjusting her bag. “Thanks for, you know… all of that.” She gestured vaguely toward the webbed-up men behind him, their muffled protests starting to quiet.

“Oh, don’t mention it,” he said quickly, his words tumbling over each other. “I mean, seriously, don’t mention it—I kind of like to keep the whole ‘friendly neighbourhood’ thing on the down-low. You know, keep the mystery alive.”

Her smile widened a fraction, and he seemed to relax slightly. “So, uh,” he continued, gesturing toward the street. “Do you, like, know how to get home? Or...?”

She hesitated, glancing around at the unfamiliar streets. “Not really,” she admitted. “This isn’t my usual neighbourhood. I was trying to find my way back to East Harlem.”

“Oh!” he exclaimed, his tone brightening. “East Harlem—cool area! Amazing food, great vibes, and, uh, let’s be honest, fewer creeps like these guys.” He gestured toward the webbed-up men behind him. “I can totally get you there! You know, as a bonus for saving the day—or, uh, the night.”

He stepped a little closer, his movements tentative as he caught her uneasy expression. “Hey, uh, you okay? That was… intense,” he said, his voice softening, as if the words were trying to land as gently as possible. “Not that I’m an expert on post-creep alleyway vibes or anything, but you look like you could use an express pass out of here.”

She hesitated, glancing back at the men stuck to the wall. The adrenaline still buzzed through her veins, but the idea of staying here a second longer made her stomach churn. “Yeah,” she said quietly, the word slipping out before she fully realized. “That’d be great.”

His masked head tilted slightly, like he was offering an unseen reassuring smile. “Alright, awesome. So, uh, what’s the plan? Should we do the ‘swinging-through-the-city’ thing? I mean, it’s faster than walking… and less awkward than small talk while we dodge fire hydrants.”

She blinked at him, caught off guard by his casual delivery. “You mean, like... swing? Swing-swing?”

“Yeah!” His voice brightened again as he straightened up, excited by her cautious curiosity. “Trust me, it’s like Uber, but with webs instead of wheels. And also no ratings, please, because I’m still workshopping my moves.”

Her laughter came unexpectedly, cutting through the edge of her fear. “Okay,” she said, brushing her hair out of her face. “Let’s do it.”

“Yes!” His arms shot into the air briefly in triumph before he caught himself. “I mean, cool. Great. Just hold on tight, and, uh, I promise I’ll try not to do any unnecessary flips. You know, unless it looks super cool.”

Carefully, he wrapped an arm around her waist, checking her expression to make sure she was okay with the proximity. When she nodded, he shot a web upward and leapt into the air. The world blurred as they arced high above the city, the rhythmic thwip of his webbing almost hypnotic. Her initial fear dissolved into awe as the view opened up—streetlights stretched below like strings of gold, and the warm summer breeze brushed her face.

“So,” he called over the wind, his tone as conversational as if they were sitting in a café, “East Harlem, huh? You got a favourite taco spot over there, or is it all just about the vibes?”

She laughed, adjusting to the thrill of being weightless. “I just moved here, actually,” she replied. “Still figuring it all out.”

“Perfect timing, then!” he replied, swinging them over a row of townhouses. “If you’re new, you have to try this one little taco truck on 116th. Oh, and there’s this churro cart on the corner of Lex—it’ll change your life. Like, I once ate five in one sitting, and I don’t even have a normal human metabolism.”

Landing briefly on a rooftop, he recalibrated, looking back at her. “Doing okay? I mean, like, no motion sickness or second thoughts?”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling despite herself. “This is… kind of amazing.”

“Kind of?” He playfully gasped, launching them back into the air. “Alright, I’m gonna do, like, 12% more flips now. Just wait—it’ll be amazing amazing.”

She laughed again, the sound surprising even her, as the city continued to blur and twinkle below. The weight of the night’s events eased with every swing, her unease replaced by a growing sense of wonder—and a strange feeling of safety with the masked hero who seemed more human than super.

=======================================

With one final swing, Spider-Man landed lightly in an alley behind a quiet row of buildings. He set her down gently, stepping back and pulling at his mask slightly to adjust it. “And here we are—East Harlem. Or, well, technically, this very scenic, definitely-not-sketchy alleyway. But hey, you’re close enough, right?” He let out a nervous laugh, motioning around them with exaggerated enthusiasm.

She laughed softly, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face. The rush of swinging through the city still buzzed through her veins, but now that her feet were on solid ground, she could feel a different kind of energy—one she couldn’t quite explain. “That was incredible,” she said, her voice quieter now, steady.

“Yeah?” he replied, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “Cool, cool. Glad you think so. I mean, it’s not every day you get an airborne tour of the city. Well, unless you’re me. I get a lot of those.”

She stepped closer to him, her heels clicking softly against the pavement. The space between them shrank, and his posture stiffened slightly, as though he hadn’t been prepared for the sudden proximity. “Uh,” he said, his voice cracking just a touch, “you, uh, sure you’re okay? No whiplash? Sore neck? Legs still attached?”

Her lips curved into a small, mischievous smile. She didn’t answer, but her gaze held his, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them.

He froze, his mask hiding what was undoubtedly a deer-in-headlights expression. “I mean,” he stammered, gesturing vaguely to the alley, “you’re safe now! Which is—uh—good. Totally good. Safe is good.”

She tilted her head, still not saying anything.

Peter let out a shaky laugh, tugging at the edge of his mask out of nervous habit. He started to take a half-step back, but his body refused to follow through, stuck somewhere between retreat and a kind of hopeful panic.

Then [Name]'s hand touched his cheek, her fingers light even against the textured fabric of his suit. His breath hitched. “Can I kiss you?” she whispered, her voice so soft he wondered if maybe his mind had made it up. His eyes widened behind the mask, and he blinked a few too many times. “Uh—y-yeah, yeah, totally. I mean... yes,” he stammered, tripping over the words.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against the fabric of his mask, teasingly soft against his covered cheek. Peter froze, his breath catching as the expressive eyes of his mask widened in surprise. For a moment, he was all nerves and stammering thoughts, the usual Peter Parker chaos.

But then, in a move that felt bold even for him, he reached up and tugged the mask just high enough to reveal his jaw, his cheek, and the curve of his lips. His heart pounded as he looked at her, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe… try that again?”

[Name] leaned in, her lips brushing softly against the bare skin of his cheek. It was quick, almost fleeting, but enough to send a jolt through Peter. His breath hitched audibly, and the eyes of his mask contracted again, wide and expressive.

She hesitated for a moment, watching him, testing the waters. Then, with a small, playful smile, she leaned in again, placing a gentle peck on his other cheek.

Peter’s lips parted slightly, his jaw tensing as if he were trying to process what was happening. His gloved hands hovered awkwardly at his sides, unsure of what to do.

“Uh…” he started, his voice cracking just a little. “I—uh—this is… nice.”

Name] leaned in again, her lips brushing the corner of his, feather-light. A soft sigh escaped her, warm against his skin. Peter’s breath hitched, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure she could hear it.

The eyes of his mask contracted slightly, a flicker of surprise and something else—something braver. Slowly, he turned to face her fully, his gaze locking with hers for a heartbeat that felt like forever.

When she leaned in again, her lips found the corner of his once more, lingering just a moment longer. And then, as if drawn by an invisible thread, they both closed the gap. Her lips met his in a proper kiss, soft and unhurried, and Peter melted into it, his gloved hand hovering awkwardly near her shoulder before finally resting there, grounding him in the moment.

What started off as a light peck suddenly turned into a clash of tongues and teeth. He took a step forward, closing the last of the distance between them. Red-gloved hands wrapped around her—one at the waist, just above her lower back, and the other finding purchase at the base of her neck, pulling her deeper into the kiss. She lightly brushed her index and middle finger against his partially exposed cheek before placing the rest of her hand against his covered neck.

With a firm yet gentle touch, he guides her until she is pressed fully against the wall of her apartment complex. His lower hand shifts from her back to the wall, providing stability. She lets out a breathy moan, her head thrown back, and he takes the chance to lavish wet kisses and licks on her exposed neck.

Peter started prepping kisses along her shoulder and up her neck close to her ear. "Fuck~" he panted out, under the mask his pupils were blown out with the lust coursing through his veins. Looking at her, with her head thrown back, lips parted, and hair all dishevelled, did things to him. His heightened senses caught the quickening of her pulse, the heat rising to her cheeks, every subtle reaction she couldn't hide. He shouldn't—but hearing that single word shattered his restraint. "More~" She whispered, her breath hitching as she brought her face back to his, their lips colliding in a relentless cascade of kisses. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her fingers interlocking at the nape of his neck.

She gasped aloud as she felt him lift her effortlessly, as if she weighed nothing. Peter took the opportunity to push his tongue into her mouth when he pressed her further into the wall, his weight pinned her in place as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Matching his intensity, her tongue danced with his in a heated battle for dominance. Her nails skimmed down the back of his mask, a deliberate and teasing motion.

It was as if she had become an entirely different person, a vixen. She was filled with wanton lust for man whose face she had never seen, he had an uncanny ability to captivate her completely. All she could feel was the undeniable heat and pulsing from between her thighs and she needed a release, and soon!

"I… I need more~" She whispered breathlessly, her eyes locking onto what little she could see of his face. His shoulders and chest rose and fell with each panting breath, mirroring her own unsteady rhythm. Her hips began to move involuntary against his own grinding down against a very noticeable bulge, what surprised her was his very own hips pushing up to meet her own thrust down. With each meeting of their hips, her summer dress inched up ever so slightly. "Oh... fuck....Just like that" They both panted aloud, in unison.

Peter couldn't take his eyes off (name) the way she gasped at the delicious friction, the way her hips would push harder into his. Enough was enough he decided to take control of her hips, and set a harsher rhythm. Letting one hand slip from her hips, he brought his index finger to his mouth, teeth grazing the glove's edge as he tugged it loose, letting it fall to the ground between them. As his hand came free, he seized her chin, drawing her into a fiercer, more demanding kiss.

Releasing her grip from the back of Peter's neck, she cupped his face, her fingers grazing beneath the mask that still concealed his nose, eyes, and the rest of his features. For a fleeting, heart-stopping moment, fear gripped him like a vice. His fingers trembled as he released her chin, lurching forward to snatch her wrists. He pressed them between their chests with a desperate urgency, his breath caught in his throat. "No," he growled, his voice dipping low and steady. "The mask stays on." Each word carried quiet authority, leaving no room for argument. "Don't make me web your hands to the wall, because trust me, once that stuff's on, it's not coming off anytime soon." he quipped, his tone low but teasing, the corners of his mouth threatening a sly smile. "Kinky," she breathed with a soft laugh, her eyes glinting with mischief.

Before she could dwell any further on the idea of Spiderman's unexpected kinkiness, he shifted the hand gripping her wrists. The ungloved hand descended toward her panties, its movement deliberate and steady. A breath away from where she truly and utterly needed it most. "Please," she pleaded, her voice trembling with desperation. Peter chuckled, his cheeky smile widening as he leaned closer. 'Say it again,' he murmured, his tone dropped an octave, rich and teasing, as he leaned in, stopping just a breath away from her ear. Panting heavily, her flushed face turned toward him, she managed to gasp, her voice cracking under the weight of her plea, "Please, touch me."

And just like that, the pad of his index finger brushed against her clothed clit, a touch so light it was barely there. And yet, she felt it all the same—electric, unmistakable, A need so overwhelming, it forced another gasp from her lips. "Fuck! You’re not going to break me," she gasped, her breath hitching, the words desperate.

For a fraction of a second Peter grinned mischievously and pressed the pad of his finger further into her covered clit. His head dropped onto her shoulder, a deep, guttural groan escaping him as though he could no longer hold it back - at how damp her lace panties were. He'd made his mind up and surrendered to his baser desires, he deliberately began to coax her clothed core into submission with slow, deliberate strokes. His fingers danced across her sensitive skin in lazy circles, gradually increasing the pressure until she was writhing beneath his touch.

As he continued to tease her with his fingers, the slow, deliberate strokes ignited a fire within her, a flame that grew in intensity with each passing moment. The lazy circles he drew on her skin seemed to awaken a deep-seated hunger, a craving that threatened to consume her. Her body began to writhe and twist, her hips arching into his touch as she sought to increase the pressure, to deepen the sensation.

The fabric of her clothing, once a barrier, now seemed to enhance the experience, the gentle friction of the material against her skin adding an extra layer of sensitivity to the mix. His fingers, deft and skilled, coaxed and cajoled, drawing out a response from her that was both involuntary and irresistible. The pressure he applied, gradual and insistent, pushed her closer to the edge, until she was gasping, her breath coming in short, sharp pants.

Strokes grew more insistent, the pressure increasing, she felt herself being drawn into a vortex of sensation, a whirlpool of pleasure that threatened to pull her under. Her legs, once still, now began to tremble, the muscles tensing and relaxing in time with the strokes, as if urging Peter on, begging him to continue. The air around them seemed to vibrate with tension, the only sound the soft rustle of fabric, the gentle gasps of breath, and the pounding of their hearts, all combining to create a sense of anticipation, a sense of expectation, that seemed to build and build, until it was almost unbearable.

"Oh God," [Name] whispered, her voice trembling with need. "I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"Just a little longer," Peter replied, his voice low and husky. "I just… I don’t want this moment to end. You’re—you’re so beautiful."

And then, just as she thought she couldn't take it anymore, Peter's fingers changed rhythm, his touch becoming more urgent, more demanding. But instead of pushing her over the edge, he suddenly pulled his fingers away, leaving her feeling empty and bereft.

She let out a cry of disappointment, but Peter just smiled, his masked eyes narrowing intensity. He brought his fingers to his lips, tasting the sweet nectar that coated them. His eyes closed in rapture as he savoured the flavour, and she could see the realization dawn on him.

Untangled her legs from around his waist, he dropped to his knees, but in a swift and agile motion, he got her right leg over his shoulder on the way down. The movement was so smooth, so fluid, that [Name] barely had time to process what was happening before she found herself in a new and intimate position.

Peter's face was now buried in her pussy, his tongue licking out to taste her as he supported her weight on his shoulder. She felt his hot breath on her, his lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to drive her wild. Her leg was draped over his shoulder, her foot dangling in the air as he knelt before her, worshiping her with his mouth.

But as he delved deeper, his desire for her became more frenzied. With a swift and savage motion, he ripped her panties down the middle, the fabric tearing apart with a soft rip. [Name] felt a jolt of shock and excitement as the cool air hit her exposed skin, but before she could even process what was happening,

Peter's tongue was back, licking and sucking and probing with even greater intensity. As he continued to devour her, his fingers began to explore, gently probing her entrance before slipping inside. He started with one finger, his index finger, which he slowly inserted into her, feeling her inner walls clench around him. She was tight, but he was patient, taking his time to stretch her out, to prepare her for what was to come.

He began to add more fingers, his middle finger joining his index finger, and then his ring finger, slowly stretching her out until all three fingers were inside her. His fingers curled inside, hitting the spongy tissue that caused her to see stars. She could feel it—an overpowering surge building within, each wave cresting higher, stronger, relentless in its climb toward an inevitable breaking point. And he was her release—this masked hero who currently had her right leg thrown over his shoulder going for gold between her legs.

As he continued to finger her, moving his fingers in and out, in a slow, tantalizing rhythm. His fingers danced inside her, stroking her inner walls, building her pleasure, and driving her wild. With each stroke, he felt her getting closer, her muscles tensing, her breath catching, and he knew that she was on the edge, ready to tumble over into ecstasy.

(Name) couldn’t remember if he’d surfaced for air—he was a starving man, lost in an unrelenting desert, and she, the first drink of water, burned across his senses, igniting something raw and untamed within him. "I could die here, and I wouldn’t even care. This—this is everything" he groaned, his voice thick with passion, His masked eyes narrowed, the expressive lenses contracting as they locked onto hers. His focus was solely on her, and he could see the pleasure and desire reflected back at him, fuelling his own passion and driving him to take her higher.

She broke eye contact, her gaze faltering as she caught sight of her glistening juices clinging to his chin and lips, a sight both distracting and impossible to ignore... Because, damn, was that hot. All she wanted was to run her hands over his head, but that infuriating mask was in the way. "Don't stop," she begged, her head falling back against the rough brick wall, the cold surface grounding her as the moment consumed her entirely. Huffing a quick chuckle, he was back in an instant, his movements swift and deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey.

And just like that, the brutal onslaught slammed into her, unyielding and merciless, tearing through her with a force that left no escape, no reprieve, only raw, consuming need. God, could this man eat! His tongue swept over her clit in endless, tantalizing licks—a raw display of pure indulgence. His fingers were unyielding as they bullied her G-spot, retreating only to plunge the trio of digits back in with relentless precision, leaving her wondering if she could endure the exquisite torture for much longer.

(Name) could feel the intense, building pressure, a crescendo of sensation that threatened to overwhelm her, and she knew that if he continued, she wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer, the anticipation and frustration coalescing into a desperate, aching need that begged for just one more touch, one more twirl of his tongue, to send her tumbling over the edge. And just like that, the taut thread of her control snapped, releasing a torrent of pent-up pleasure as her body surrendered to the overwhelming sensation, the dam breaking in a rush of ecstasy that left her shattered,

Peter felt her hand clasp the back of his mask as her back arched, a breathy "Oh~ Oh~, I'm," Her head was flung back, the tendons in her neck straining as her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth agape in a soundless scream, the only sign of her ecstasy a faint, keening gasp that escaped her parted lips. She had no need to announce her climax, for he could sense it in the way her core clamped down around his hand, the right one trembling violently over his shoulder as her body convulsed, and the sudden, silky rush of her cum on his tongue, a primal, instinctual knowledge that sparked a corresponding surge of pride within him.

Coming down from her high, gasps and shallow breaths spilling from her parted lips, she felt an overwhelming urge to tug away the mask of the man kneeling before her. She wanted to see him—not as the faceless figure in the suit, but as the person beneath.

Peter’s Spider-Sense tingled, and his reflexes kicked in. He felt it—the subtle tightening of her hand at the back of his head, the faint tug that followed. Adrenaline surged through him, and his left hand instinctively moved, smacking softly against the wrist of her right hand.

A splat echoed, and her right hand froze in place—she couldn’t move it. Did he? No… he had! He’d done exactly what he’d warned about, webbing her hand firmly to the wall. Lowering her leg from his shoulder, he wiped his chin and lips with his uncovered hand - succumbing to the irresistible urge to lick his fingers.

Despite having just been nestled between her thighs, his fingers still slick with the remnants of her climax, Peter couldn't resist the urge to bring them to his lips, and as he sucked the fingers that had just been inside her, he let out a low, throaty groan, the sound vibrating through the air as he savoured the taste of her, his eyes closing in rapture as he indulged in her flavour. "I told you—the mask stays on."

She wanted to be angry, but she couldn’t—not after the performance. The low, husky tone of his voice, the gentle rumble of his words, and the unmistakable bulge in his pants, all combined to send a pulse of heat straight back to her core, reigniting the embers of her desire and making her feel like she was being pulled under again.

She struggled to pull her wrist free from the webbing that bound her to the wall. "The more you struggle, the tighter it’ll hold you to the wall," he said, his tongue flicking out to brush against his bottom lip. "What?" she gasped, her chest heaving, her breasts straining against the sweetheart neckline as she looked at him bewildered. Noticing the way the eyes of his mask narrowed, his head dipping slightly downward, and the faint, almost hesitant curve of an awkward smile on his lips. "Up here," she called out to him, all traces of nervousness and embarrassment tossed to the wind as she pointed to her eyes.

His head snapped toward her, only to dart away just as quickly. In an instant, he stood at his full height as F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice slipped into his ear, calm but urgent: 'There’s a robbery happening right now at Artisan and Carat in Midtown Manhattan—seven heavily armed suspects, three hostages.' He bent down, retrieving his discarded glove with practiced ease, as F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice chimed in once more, her tone still measured but tinged with urgency. 'If you leave now, estimated arrival is approximately ten minutes. Casualty risk remains low, but it’s increasing,' she informed him crisply. As she spoke, a video feed patched through to his mask’s holographic interface, displaying live footage of the robbers inside the store. His jaw tightened as he took in the scene—the heavily armed suspects pacing, their movements erratic, and the hostages cowering in fear.

She wondered what had caused the sudden shift in his demeanor. One moment, he had been looking at her with that awkward, almost endearing smile, and the next, he was tense and poised, as if ready to spring into action. Her thoughts were interrupted as he reached for the glove on the ground, sliding it back onto his hand with a practiced efficiency. The motion only added to the growing sense that something unseen was pulling him away, his focus no longer on her but on some urgent, invisible call.

He glanced at her, a flicker of hesitation crossing his features as he struggled with the decision. The need to tell her what was happening warred with the urgency to act, to save the hostages before it was too late.

She watched as he adjusted the mask, the transformation so swift it left her breathless. In an instant, he was Spider-Man again—an untouchable figure, every trace of vulnerability buried beneath the red-and-blue façade. Yet, she knew something had shifted. She didn’t need to hear the words to feel the weight of them; the urgency radiating from him was undeniable. Whatever had happened, it was pulling him away.

Peter hesitated, torn by the fear that the woman he'd shared such an intimate moment with might think he had used her. Yet, as F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice punctuated the seconds with time estimates and escalating risks, he knew he had no choice but to act.

Backing into the alley, Peter’s voice came in a rush, tumbling over itself. "The web’s gonna dissolve! Like, really soon! Stop struggling, you’re only gonna make it worse!" The words left his mouth so quickly, they almost blurred together.

Without waiting for a response—or even checking if she listened—he shot a webline and launched himself forward. The pull of the swing was immediate, his grip tightening as he zipped up and away. The city blurred beneath him, a streak of light and sound.

“Peter,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. snapped in his earpiece, her tone clipped. “You’re three blocks off course. Redirect immediately.”

“I’m trying, I’m trying!” he shouted back, adjusting his trajectory mid-swing. His breath was quick, his heart racing as the sharp whistle of wind roared in his ears.

Behind him, her faint voice reached him for just a moment—a fleeting sound he couldn’t make out before the city swallowed it whole. It lingered in his mind, though, even as F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s next instruction pierced the chaos.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

She watched as he backed into the alley, the weight of his words hitting her like a blow. "The web’s gonna dissolve! Like, really soon! Stop struggling, you’re only gonna make it worse!" he called out, his voice sharp and hurried. Panic welled up inside her as she saw the decision he'd already made.

Before she could stop him, he sprang into action, launching himself forward. His web shot out, anchoring to a building, and in a heartbeat, he was gone—soaring through the night sky, the city swallowing him up. Desperation clawed at her throat, and she shouted after him, her voice breaking, "Wait! Don’t leave me like this!"

The cold reality hit her like a wave—she was trapped. Lace panties ripped and discarded pinned to the wall of the alley behind her apartment complex, she struggled against the sticky web, but it held firm. Her eyes darted to her purse, lying just out of reach on the ground. Panic crept in as she thought of everything inside—her phone, her keys—everything she needed to free herself or call for help.

She forced herself to take a deep breath, steadying the panic that threatened to consume her. The sticky web anchored her firmly to the wall, leaving her helpless but determined to keep calm. Her gaze landed on her purse, lying just out of reach, and a flicker of frustration crept in.

"Spider-Man," she murmured softly, almost to herself, her voice tinged more with disbelief than anger. A faint ache settled in her chest—not from the web, but from the realization that he had left her here, pinned and powerless, without so much as a second glance. She shifted her weight, trying to slide down the wall, but the web’s grip made even that a struggle, her pinned hand rendering the effort awkward and futile.

The sting of his absence was sharper than the situation itself. Only moments ago, they'd shared something so raw, so vulnerable, and yet he'd left her here, tangled in this mess without a word of explanation. Did it mean nothing to him? The thought gnawed at her, a hollow ache twisting in her chest. She had trusted him, let him in—and now, she was abandoned and alone.

The weight of it settled over her, sharp and unrelenting. She blinked back the tears threatening to spill, her chest stinging as the reality sank in. She’d been the one to kiss him first, to close the distance between them—but she had thought it meant something more. The way he had taken off, leaving her pinned and alone, stung in a way she hadn’t expected.

Her shoulders trembled slightly as she steadied her breathing, forcing herself to push the hurt aside. Once she was free, that would be it. Spider-Man could swing off into the night for all she cared. She wouldn’t think about him again—not his voice, not his touch, not the way he’d made her feel, if only for a moment.

He didn’t deserve it.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Well... If you got this far then I guess you've finished the first part, and all I want to say is "What did you think?" 😊😳

sorry for any mistakes!

XOXO

[tf2oc-thejanitor-askblog]

MEET THE JANITOR - TF2 FIC

CHAPTER ONE

Months...

Accounts have been lost of how many defeats each team has taken in recent months in such fierce missions. Carrying their comrades across the field, along with broken pride, became commonplace among mercenaries and seemed far from over.

There were few moments of celebration after a match, given the numerous setbacks. However, what made it all the stranger was the silence and discouragement among men even after a victory.

No annoying Scout jokes...

No bomb blasts and laughter from the old Demoman...

Not even the Soldier's senseless insults to humiliate the enemy...

Nothing.

Everyone was terribly tired and stressed.

It was clear that this was not only affecting the mood of the boys. Their performances in battle came to decline on both sides... including basic care. Poor Engineer. It was a treat for him to cook homemade dishes from his homeland for the team, being a simple way for the Texan to take care of and cheer up his colleagues. However, the mere sight of the old stove, the dirty dishes in the sink made Engie sigh tiredly, and he knew it- he was losing the taste for his favorite task... It was horrible.

It was to be believed that if even the hardworking Engineer no longer wanted to cook, the impeccable Medic leaving his precious laboratory disorganized, the rest of the tasks at the base were stagnant. Clearer than daylight was the fact that everything was a complete mess... and it would be little before the Soldier's raccoons raised a generation of their species there, mistaking the place for a dump.

Despite the attempts of some mercenaries to maintain order, such as the Engineer, Medic and even the Heavy, the situation was severe and this worried the doctor a lot. It would be tragic to see the laboratory full of grown men complaining of pain from some infection amidst scattered paperwork, disorganized medicines and Archimedes partying on top of his dirty patients - the latter being the least worrying for the Doctor. The German himself was a picture of disarray with his stained lab coat, dark circles under his eyes and disheveled hair... simply unacceptable for a professional of his caliber.

Really, it was shameful for them all to admit one thing: the nine dreaded mercenaries were not able to take care of their own base.

The situation could not get any worse with Miss Pauling's visit to announce the next mission, asking everyone to sit down in the dim light of the meeting room. Their postures varied between tense and slouched bodies in the chair, just awaiting the sentence like a damned defendant in court. Perhaps, even if it's an exaggeration, a death sentence would be more welcome than what they would see next.

"Well, I announce here that the next work will be carried out outside the walls of Teufort. In Landfall, precisely. Everyone will have to leave early tomorr-" a confused wink escaped the girl in purple as she heard the chorus of grunts and murmurs for mentioning a possible "trip" "Huh... Is there something wrong, guys?"

"N-No, miss. There's nothin’ wrong—" yes, there was everything wrong, but Engie tried to hide it in a soft tone, even his slight stammers gave it away "—but we'd like to talk somethin’ about it before we leave tomorrow."

Pauling is somewhat surprised by the emergence of a new topic in the middle of the meeting, which makes her nod for the Texan to continue.

"Look, the other boys and I realize that no matter how much effort everyone here has made to do their part – others more, others less..." Engie coughs, narrowing his eyes at some mercenaries who felt the pinprick of his words "... We are not managin’ the work with the maintenance of the building." 

A momentary silence fell over the room with that statement coming from the Engineer, which was more like a rant that everyone there was waiting for someone to hear. The tapping of Engineer's fingers on the yellow helmet on his lap accompanied the heartbeat of men there, in anticipation of how Miss Pauling would react to the information- “It shouldn't have sounded like a cry for help”, they thought, sweating coldly.

"You mean to tell me that you all are not able to clean the base?" Ouch. It wasn't her intention to sound that way, but it was inevitable to notice that the nine men were scratching their necks or dodging their gazes, embarrassed by the obvious statement.

-Uh... precisely, Fräulein. I say zis as a profissional, but I have been observing zat our commitment has declined dangerously." The doctor cleared his throat as he rubbed an invisible stain from his glasses, concentrating on the next words: "As long as zere are missions, ve will try to complete successfully- but I believe zat the great demand for service has been depleting our stamina even to perform routine chores and the mess has also hindered our main job."

Miss Pauling's eyes scanned the room, trying to see if the mess in that building was real and troubling. It wasn't the most perfect thing to see, with some cobwebs decorating the corners of the ceiling or stains on the floor that had lightened over time- however, nothing there seemed to indicate complete caos.

"Medic, maybe I'm wrong... but everything seems normal to me." she says with a slack smile and shrugs. Seriously, nothing referred to mess or dirt, at least in the meeting room. However, she was met with head shakes and "tsk" sounds from the boys, making her smile wither with the negative reaction.

"Ooooh, ya didn't see anything! Should I show ya the bathroom?" Demoman asks looking at Pauling, but his teammates were the owners of the answer "Right. I think a tour will change your mind." Demoman jumps up from his chair, a mischievous smile gracing his tired face. Maybe she'll realize what they mean along the way…

A little reluctantly, Miss Pauling makes her way alongside Demo, watching each room with the sharp eyes of a butler, looking for the slightest dust or dirt. And well... She found much more than dust. Dusty corridors, along with freshly washed blood stains and wet footprints. Even the silhouette of an enemy Spy was left on the wall after an explosion, decorating that place as if it were the most valuable painting of the bloody Kickasso.

"Heheh! I did it." says the Scotsman pointing to the wall, puffing out his proud chest until Pauling gives him a scolding look.

The smell of gunpowder, moisture, and metal rushed into her nostrils with force. But the unpleasant smell that came right ahead was worse. Not worse – MORTAL.

Such an odor could only come from the communal bathroom, a place where the nine men shared the space to perform personal hygiene. Hygiene was the word that was missing there. They both stopped in front of the door, holding their breath but their noses were flooded by the indescribable smelling air- it was dark, the stuffy air passed through her face... and for a second she swore to see something walking on the floor.

Miss Pauling had to restrain herself from flipping the light switch, on the advice of the Demoman himself "You're not prepared to see that, lass." No being on the face of the Earth was. It was hard for her to admit it – and she didn't like it at all – but these men needed some extra help. Urgently.

"Ahem – I see that things are not so good. I also realize that keeping the building in this state for a week without someone taking care of it is unacceptable." She announces it to everyone, returning to the meeting room a little dizzy.

"Could any of us stay here and take responsibility for the cleanup?" Spy gives his guess, puffing on one of his expensive cigarettes.

"And who qualifies to clean up all this crap in a week? Alone?" Scout mocks, making the Frenchman roll his eyes hard. It was easy to ask something so crazy to the same guys who were practically begging for a chlorine and phosphorus bath in that inhospitable bathroom.

"Out of the question. You must all attend the mission- no Soldier, you won't clean anything. Lower your hand. You too Pyro- Everyone. Will. Go." Pauling punctuates her final words with the tapping of his sharp pencil on the clipboard. The meaning of the team was "everyone being there together with a purpose" and this circumstance would be no different.

"Miss Pauling, call someone to clean then." Heavy's towering voice resonates with the simple response. Everyone's mental gears began to turn until they agreed with the Russian's idea.

"Hoho! Does that mean we're hirin’ a cute maid?" Needless to say, how audible was the sigh of annoyance from everyone when they heard the boy who wiggled his eyebrows at the Sniper, who growled like an angry dingo at the pokes on his arm.

"Someone who comes to leave our dear lair spotless. That's a great idea, Heavy! But it can't be just anyone-" Soldier loudly proclaims, resting his hand on the shoulders of Heavy who, even uncomfortable, agrees with his colleague "- a maid of American blood must occupy such a position!"

Between snorts and grumblings, it was thought that it was necessary to hire someone who met all the requirements to be there, cleaning without causing problems – especially for the Administrator or Miss Pauling – and be as efficient as the nine mercenaries hired by Mann Co.

"A janitor would come in handy. Takin’ care of this place that looks more like a school full of bloody schoolgirls, seems like a good thing." Sniper breaks his precious silence with grumpy grumbling while there was a Soldier yelling "American maid" right in his ear.

"A janitor..." Miss Pauling whispers reflecting on the request, writing down the conversation in a corner of the sheet on her clipboard "All right. I will take a report on today's meeting and pass on to the Administrator what was discussed about the cleaning and maintenance of the base between us. I will bring news without fail, if the request is accepted." at least Pauling hoped she would be heard.

This sounded like a siren announcing a "possible and distant" victory. A little bit of encouragement, hope even filled the room for being heard. They had to prepare for the long trip that this one week would have in store... and who knows the arrival of a new teammate.

(THAT'S IT GUYS!! THE FIRST PART OF THE FIC IS OUT!! I hope you have fun reading it, because I loved writing each of the characters and also illustrating some parts of the story- Oh, english is not my first language, so if there are any mistakes, I apologize. Stay tuned for chapter two hohoho)

[hexesandroses]

Sorry if I sound corny but number 77 with Dottore for the drabble list??

Nothing corny about it! :) this turned out way longer than I anticipated, but I hope it's to your liking <3

drabble list

77. There is nothing wrong with you

You were exhausted.

The days blended into one as you spent hours upon hours at your desk, eyes glued to the ample paperwork that needed to be dealt with. Your rationality told you that you were going about this the wrong way; skipping meals and losing sleep over work never did you good, and though the stars had shown you the consequences of those actions numerous times, you never learned your lesson.

It became increasingly difficult to focus. Your mind demanded rest but you refused to oblige. Your calloused fingers hurt from holding a pen for so long; your thoughts were in disarray, mind clouded by exhaustion; your body felt weaker than ever before and sitting upright was a challenge in and of itself.

You couldn't stop, though. There were so many things that demanded your attention, so many deadlines that worsened your anxieties. If you couldn't finish all your tasks in time, then what were you good for?

Still, you wanted rest so badly. When was the last time you'd slept well? When did you last play chess with Zandik, just as you used to do every day? You ached with a desperate desire for tranquility but even that was overtaken by your crippling fear of failure.

All of which Zandik noticed. He made an attempt at pulling you away from your desk one night: with a hand placed on your shoulder, he said, "you can't go on like this any longer. Come to bed."

And you'd rejected him, swatted his hand away and told him not to distract you - he didn't bother you again after that.

Until he found you hunched over your journal deep into the night. Your mind didn't register his voice until he came to stand right next to you.

Zandik called your name softly, "you can't do this to yourself."

"I'm just working."

"Work can wait. When was the last time you slept?"

Your fingers gripped the pen tighter. It hurt so badly.

"Yesterday, I think."

You wondered if he was disappointed in you. Were you too slow, had you failed to meet his expectations?

Zandik caressed your hair with his ungloved hand and you nearly recoiled at the feeling of it; you couldn't remember the last time you bathed. You must have looked dreadful - a shell of a human being, beyond unrecognizable.

"Your body needs rest," he murmured, "this has gotten out of control. Your health, both physical and mental, will be beyond saving if you continue at this rate."

You gritted your teeth. "I feel fine. I'll be done soon, anyway."

"How soon?"

"Soon. In a few hours- or days, it doesn't matter. Soon."

Zandik exhaled softly. He was disappointed - you knew it. You had failed him and proven yourself to be unworthy of all attention - a failure of a partner, of a human being.

"I don't recall the last time I saw you eat a proper meal," he broke you out of your thoughts. You didn't dare to look at him; your shame was far too great. "Look at yourself. You haven't left this study in so long; Columbina asks me about you every day."

"She'll manage without me."

"And I?"

The question made you droop your head. Zandik never spoke of his affection for you aloud - you could see all of it in his actions: his devotion, care, desire. The innocent implication of his words evoked guilt, sadness, among so many other complicated feelings that you couldn't put a name to.

"I really, really need to finish this, Zandik-"

"I miss you," he said, so easily that it made your heart ache with longing. You'd missed him, too; spending your days without feeling his touch, hearing his never-ending rants about whatever research he was engrossed in - you wilted without Zandik near.

You were hesitant to look at him. Something told you that you would cave and abandon your work if you did.

"This needs to be dealt with, Zandik. If I don't do it now, I'll never... I have to."

Or I'll feel like a failure. The words lay on the tip of your tongue but you were careful not to voice them.

Zandik's hand moved down to the nape of your neck. Had you been any weaker, you would have leaned against him, given up on your futile efforts to prove your worth to... him? Yourself?

"You're overworking yourself," Zandik whispered, "even I know not to take things so far and you have seen how I can get when something catches my interest."

You huffed bitterly, turning your head in the opposite direction lest he catch sight of the tears that welled in your eyes. "How do you not understand? I'm not overworking myself - I've barely managed to get anything done today. No matter what I try, I just can't do it. I have to, I know I have to, but I can't and it's ruining everything."

Frustration bubbled in your chest. Archons, you were so tired. The temptation to give up was strong, but how would you face yourself? Zandik? How could you rest after resigning yourself to failure?

"You need a break," Zandik murmured, his tone laced with sympathy, "take the day off tomorrow, and I will help you with whatever else is left."

"I can't."

"Why?"

The words came out shakily, "I'll feel wrong. I already do."

Tears spilled from your eyes before you could stop them; it was too much. You felt exhausted, burdened by the weight of your own pressure, and continuing to pretend that it didn't bother you felt impossible. Your dignity was all but crushed in the palm of your hand as Zandik crouched and pried your hands from your face.

Everything hurt so badly: your head, neck, hands, every part of your body ached and begged for relief. Your heart filled with something heavy and you lacked the tools to get rid of it. When did this strange feeling take root in your chest? When was the last time that you felt right?

"I don't know how to deal with it," you whined, "I've tried so hard but nothing works. I'm just wrong. I can't do it."

You could hear Zandik's breath hitch through your cries.

"Look at me," he said - a command. His hands cupped your face and beckoned you to meet his gaze. Your sight was blurry, but you could just barely make out his soft, cyan hair, a pair of ruby eyes overflowing with a wistful feeling you couldn't comprehend.

"There is nothing wrong with you."

Gingerly wiping your tears away, he continued, "I know what it is like to feel inherently terrible and to not have someone who could prove you wrong. But you have me." And why would he say that so softly? You furrowed your brows as more tears pooled in your eyes - but Zandik didn't mind. He kept wiping at your eyes as if he could quell the turmoil within your heart with just a touch. "I will show you that you are good; that you are capable, determined, worthy. You don't have to do this by yourself, my dear."

You all but softened against him. Resting your forehead against his own, you allowed Zandik to take care of you in a way that he hadn't in so long. Frustration gave way to acceptance and you exhaled shakily when he pressed his lips to your cheeks - a soothing thing.

"I will help you in any way that I can," he added, "Omega will handle my work for the time being."

"I missed you," are the only words that you could speak, and Zandik accepted them with a soft, barely noticeable smile.

"I know. I'm here. You will be alright; this, too, shall pass with time."

You found that notion to be a little more believable, now.

[beardedjoel]

closer | part twenty two - finale!

joel x f!reader. non-apocalypse au.

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3  

chapter summary: in this final chapter, you and joel reconnect and discover just how deep your feelings for each other run. 8.6 k words. chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI, age difference (joel is 42 and reader is 25), soft!dom joel, cockwarming as the whole show, unprotected piv, sweet slow in love sex, dirty talk, praise kink a/n: I'M EMOTIONAL AS FUCK RIGHT NOW AND IDK WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT. i love love love these two lovesick idiots so much, they've helped me grow as a writer and i'm so happy so many of you have loved reading this story also. as much as i've written it for myself i also wrote it for all of you who encouraged me along the way, so THANK YOU SO MUCH! i could never express just how thankful i am for how much love this story has gotten. i promise this won't be the very last of this reader and joel, i would love to do a small epilogue or drabble sometime soon as well. anyways this has been such a rant THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU and please enjoy this final chapter!

You bound down the stairs giddily, happy to take in the familiar sights of Joel’s house in the light of day. You had missed its cozy comforts, the way it had been a second home to you, how Joel had been home to you. You’re practically vibrating with happiness, the feeling warm and radiating from the middle of your chest outwards. You’re tingling with anticipation to see Joel again, even with the fact that you’d just spend the entire night next to him. You couldn’t wait to interact with him, look into his eyes, and give him a good morning kiss. It nearly felt surreal, like you weren’t sure if this could have ever happened again. 

You hear the soft drone of the TV, and when you don’t see Joel in the kitchen, you make your way to the living room, where he’s seated, sprawled out on his cushy couch. His eyes look only half-focused on a sports channel, running highlights and going into detail on all the recent games, and you immediately tune it out. When you enter the room, Joel looks up and his eyes widen, his coffee halfway to his mouth. He finishes the sip, slurping purposefully and setting the mug down on the side table next to the couch with careful hands, not once taking his eyes off of you. You stand in the doorway, stark naked, not having bothered to even put on one of Joel’s shirts this morning.

“Isn’t that a sight,” he says quietly, one hand still wrapped tightly around the warm mug, as if he doesn’t know what to do with it. His tone seems controlled, but you can tell this is having more of an effect on him than even you’d expected. You try to not wear too big of a smirk as you stand, inspecting him.

“Y’better be comin’ right over to this lap if you're gonna walk in here lookin’ like that.” He cocks his head, making purposeful, long movements of his eyes to roam over your entire body, stopping longer to admire your tits, nipples slightly erect already from the chill of the air and your anticipation for Joel this morning. You close the space between you, padding over to the couch, where Joel adjusts his legs, making room for you.. You stop short, drumming your fingers on the edge of the table where Joel’s mug sits.

“Coffee first,” you declare, turning to walk back over to the counter, making sure Joel has a clear, impeccable view of your ass as you go. Joel gets up to follow you, and you hear a distant groan, no mistaking that it’s his back still bothering him.

“Where d’ya think you’re goin’?” he asks impatiently, standing across the island in the kitchen, watching you. “My lap was ready for you, darlin’.” 

You twist your lips to the side, purposefully ignoring him. “Now where were those mugs…” you mutter, reaching up on your tip-toes to look through cabinets, stretching your body out and offering an even better view of all your assets.

“You know damn well where those mugs are, sweetheart,” Joel growls out from across the room, arms folded in front of him. “Ignorin’ me… can’t believe this,” he mutters under his breath, but still loud enough that you can make it out.

“Silly me, you’re right,” you reply airily, immediately opening the correct cabinet and getting a mug out before filling it with coffee. When you glance at Joel before opening the fridge, the look on his face is odd, unreadable.

“I, uh… still have the creamer. A new one. Stupid, I know. I bought a new one when the old one went bad. Jus’ in case…” Joel pulls his lips into his mouth and avoids your gaze for a moment. 

Your heart beats harder for a few seconds, a hole opening in your chest that you feel like you might fall right through. It feels like your heart breaking in real time, realizing that all this time, Joel still cared so much, so fucking much. You clutch your chest, fingers brushing over your bare skin there, and give Joel the softest, warmest smile you can conjure up. 

“Thank you,” you say, wanting to deliver it with sincerity and show the meaning that it has for you. Joel gives you a simple nod, knowing nothing more needs to be said about it, that you both understand what it means and what you both went through. You move along, pouring the creamer in your coffee and walking back to Joel, letting him guide you back with a rough hand on your lower back.

“Gonna jus’ ignore my questions, now?” Joel asks, in the half-teasing, half-irritated way that can only mean he’s brewing up all kinds of ways to punish you. He lowers himself back onto the couch with an equally loud groan, and you lift your brows, wondering if you should question him about it.

“You wouldn’t want me to be without my coffee, would you?” you ask, your voice syrupy sweet as it comes out of your mouth. You blink, fluttering your lashes for affect and Joel simply narrows his eyes at you, clearly not pleased with your teasing this early in the morning.

“How do you want me, then?” you ask, hands on your hips as you stand before him. Joel’s eyebrows shoot up at the question and he smirks wildly. 

“You bad fuckin’ girl,” Joel tuts with a shake of his head, seeming to instantly forgive what transpired in the kitchen. “Why don’t you sit on down, put your back right here,” he says, patting his chest gently, clad in a classic Joel look of a faded sports tee. You do as he asks, climbing onto his lap with your back to him, scooting your ass all the way back until it’s flush with his torso. Joel’s arms go around you, his legs falling to the side slightly to make room for yours to dangle in between them.

You both sigh in contentment at the feeling of being close to each other on top of the sexual temptation you’ve quite literally just placed in Joel's lap. He reaches a hand to the side to grab his mug, bringing it to his lips over your shoulder. Once he takes a sip, he quickly nuzzles the side of your head. 

“Y’sleep okay?”

“Better than I have in months,” you say with a breath of laughter, and Joel nods in agreement.

“Me too, darlin’. Wore each other out,” he says. 

“So much pressure off of both our shoulders. I don’t know if you feel that too, but I do,” you tell him. 

“Mhm. Feels like… all is right again, huh?”

“Mhm,” you nod, reaching for your own cup, precariously perching yourself to keep your balance on Joel’s lap, your ass rutting into his crotch a bit more. Joel groans quietly at the sensation, which you definitely don’t miss. You both went pretty hard last night, and you’re not sure what Joel will be feeling up for today if his back was any indication. 

“How’s your back?” you ask, while the topic is on your mind. “Promise I won’t tease,” you add on lightheartedly. 

Joel grumbles a little bit but then sighs in resignation. “I’m not in good shape here darlin’, if I’m honest. But hell, what’s a man to do when a pretty girl sits in his lap naked as the day she was born, but his back hurts? Be a fool not to take advantage of this,” he says, frustration cropping up in his tone. You realize Joel must be feeling touchy about his age these days, especially considering his birthday was yesterday.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you turn slightly and reach a hand over your shoulder to stroke Joel’s face gently. “I just want to spend time with you, whatever you want to do. I don’t want you to mess you back up even more.”

Joel finds it in him to grumble a bit more, but he places a kiss on your bare shoulder, murmuring a thank you into the skin. You two sit and drink your coffee in peace for a little while with the TV as background noise, but you feel the unmistakable bulge of Joel’s cock hardening underneath you as he absentmindedly runs his fingers along the soft skin of your thighs and arms. 

“Hmm,” he mumbles quietly to himself, as if he’s trying to decide what to do - absolutely ravage you or keep his back from being completely fucked and sending him out of work for a few days. 

“Joel… your back…” you say before he can even get any ideas.

“I know… I jus’...” he starts

“I have an idea,” you announce, cutting him off. “If you let me take care of you a little - get a heating pad, all of that stuff.l, I’ll sit right back here and let you do whatever you want to do to me. You’ll barely have to move. No pressure to do anything that’ll hurt you.”

Joel cocks an eyebrow, intrigued at your offer. “Y’shouldn’t have to take care of me like that…” he starts, and you immediately want to stop that train of thought before it derails completely and leaves him feeling bad about himself. 

“Said I wanted to take care of you, so let me,” you say, and Joel starts to protest, but you cut in again. “How many times have you taken care of me, done so much for me? And for so much more than a day of nursing a bad back. Let me do this for you, Joel.”

Joel’s lips turn into a contemplative half-frown as he makes another thoughtful noise, and he then smiles a little. His fingers come up to touch your shoulder, tracing so gently along the skin that you get goosebumps immediately. 

“Alright, it’s a deal,” Joel asks gruffly, giving in. 

You have him instruct you on where he keeps the heating pad, insisting you know he has to have one around along with icy hot patches, Advil, the entire works for someone like him who complains about his back often enough. He grumbles at how correct your guess is, hating that it makes him feel old and weak in front of you, but you’re quick to remind him the only reason his back is hurting today is from ravaging you within an inch of your life last night. That seems to satiate him well enough, a proud grin slapped across his face at the recollection.

“Yeah, yeah, all in that closet outside the bathroom down here,” he tells you. “Y’better not go putin’ on any clothes while you’re away.”

You laugh, putting your hands on your hips as you stand up in front of him. “Got a naked nurse fantasy, or somethin’?”

Joel scoffs out a laugh, amused. “When it comes to you, darlin’, everything’s a fantasy f’me.”

“Smooth talker.” You give him a dramatic eye roll but feel your heart jump at his words. ”Okay, just sit back, I’ll be right back with everything,” you assure him, rushing to the closet and digging out all the supplies you think you’ll need. 

You smile to yourself at the old, worn down heating pad Joel has, something that looks like it’s been passed down and gotten nearly too much use, the old blue and pink plaid pattern faded and tattered. You make a mental note to buy him a new one at some point, knowing Joel’s practical brain won’t allow him to purchase something brand new since “this one works just fine”.

You catch Joel struggling to sit back and get comfortable, a grimace on his face, and you frown. You’ve never really seen Joel in pain until now, and it’s harder than you’d thought it would be. You feel a sinking feeling, just wishing you could take this pain away from him immediately. At the least, you’ll do everything you can to help him feel better.

“Hey, let me help. Let’s get the heating pad behind you,” you tell him, rushing over and trying to get everything set up. “Take these,” you say, barely looking as you try to hand Joel a few Advil while plugging in the heating pad at the same time. He grabs the pills from your hand and swallows them dry, and you glare at him before handing him the water you’d set on the side table for him. 

His eyes widen with guilt, and he takes several long gulps from the glass, trying to hide a groan that escapes with the effort of setting it back on the table.

“You’re in worse shape than I thought,” you say, frowning deeply, eyes full of concern.

“Stop your worryin’, meds and the heating pad’ll have me right as rain in no time, okay?” Joel assures you, letting you place the heating pad on the couch before easing him down onto it. He sighs deeply as he relaxes into the steadily growing warmth of it.

“There we go,” you say gently, giving him a smile.

“Now hold up your end of the deal, darlin’.” Joel’s eyes are expectant and mischievous - at the least you’re glad he seems to be feeling slightly better already. 

You simply smile, biting your tongue from giving him some kind of snarky comment and sit back down, returning yourself to his lap, sitting yourself between his legs and resting back into him. 

“All yours,” you say quietly, craning your neck back slightly to lean your head onto his shoulder. His lips gingerly touch the skin there, sucking right where your pulse comes through, and you moan, back arching slightly, but you’re careful to keep from putting too much weight on Joel’s hurting body right now. 

“Wanna be my little plaything so bad don’t you?” Joel murmurs as his hands come to your chest, groping gently at your breasts, testing the weight in his palms before he squeezes them again, running his thumbs over both of your nipples simultaneously. You squirm, thighs rubbing together as the sensation from your nipples seems to go straight to your clit, sending it throbbing for him already.

Joel is gentle and calculated with his moves now, lips soft as they ghost along your neck and shoulders, thumbs barely brushing your hardened pink buds. You whine over and over, already feeling like you could reach your high if he keeps this up.

“Open those legs f’me, sweetheart, Joel says, hands on your thighs, softly nudging them apart. You spread your thighs slightly, but Joel tuts. “Wider than that, darlin’, all the way, please,” Joel asks, and his use of ‘please’ catches you off guard, but you find you kind of like it for a change of pace. You slide your thighs over top of Joel’s, settling so that your legs are now spread open over top of his, landing on either side of his thighs. 

“Much better,” Joel coos in your ear before slowly sliding a hand down your front, tauntingly, teasingly making its way between your legs. You writhe, your breathing picking up when Joel slides a finger between your legs, groaning as the wet heat envelops it. 

“So soft n perfect f’me already,” he says shakily, finger traveling up your seam, sending you shuddering as it passes your clit. 

“Mmm,” you moan out. “Feels so good when you play with me.”

“I know it does, baby, this lil’ hole is just weepin’ for me, ain’t it?” Joel asks, lewdly playing with your wetness, sending squelching sounds throughout the otherwise quiet room. “Needs to be stuffed full of me so bad, poor baby.”

You nod eagerly, breath coming out more staccato now as Joel teases you. He pushes two fingers inside of you, sliding them in effortlessly and beginning to pump in and out. You moan breathlessly, squirming on his lap as your slickness coats his fingers and starts to run down onto his hand. Joel lets out a pleased hum near your ear and you whine in response. He increases the pace, grunting quietly with the effort as you try not to writhe too much on him for fear of hurting him.

“Fuckin’ Christ, baby, can’t take this. Need to fill you up,” Joel whines, his breath hot on your neck, movements becoming more erratic. “Feel so fuckin’ good, missed you too much, darlin’.”

You cry out as his fingers hook inside of you, a ‘come here’ motion that has your legs wobbling instantly as you shake on top of him. “M-missed you so much, Joel. Can’t get enough of you…” you breathe out, barely able to focus on anything but Joel’s thick fingers absolutely ruining you right now. 

“W-wait. But you can’t hurt yourself,” you add on, coming to your senses for a moment, worried about his back. “I’ll take care of you, I’ll let you use my mouth.”

Joel sighs, his fingers grazing your g-spot and you whimper. His free hand slides up your belly to your chest, cupping one of your tits, using his hand there to press your back into his chest a little more. 

“Can I just…” Joel says, a gruff and quiet voice coming out of him now. “Let me just put it in, I fuckin’ need this sweet little pussy wrapped around me.”

He pulls his fingers out so suddenly that you yelp quietly with the loss before he cups your needy cunt with his hand, pressing his palm down into you. You squirm a little, trying to get some friction from his rough skin on your clit. 

“Fuckin’ ruin myself to feel my cock in here, but y’know that already,” Joel says, grunting as he squeezes you tighter, your nipple between his fingers being pulled taut.

“Joel…” you cry out, “I’ll sit on it, make it all better for you, promise.” You turn your head to try and meet his eyeline, going in for a long, deep kiss that he meets eagerly. 

You lift your hips up, balancing yourself on either side of his thighs. “You won’t even have to move,” you assure him, “Just get to enjoy me.”

Joel’s hands wrap around your torso and his mouth presses to your back. “Always enjoy you, but I swear to God darlin’, I can barely move right now, got it? So no funny business here.”

“Right.” You nod a little too enthusiastically, further setting off Joel’s doubts that you won’t be able to just sit quietly on his cock. “Just wanna make you feel good.”

“My good girl,” Joel murmurs into your skin, peppering it with kisses. “How’d I deserve this?”

“Hush now, and get your cock inside of me,” you retort, and you can practically feel the surprise radiating off of Joel from behind you at your demanding attitude.

He tuts quietly and blows out a breath. “Yes ma’am,” he says with a chuckle.

You reach in between your legs, where Joel’s hard length is only covered by his boxer briefs, and your fingers itch with need as you wrap your hand around the fabric hidden heat of him.

“Shit,” Joel hisses through his teeth at your touch, arching his hips up into it before groaning in pain.

“Shh, just relax, baby,” you tell him, stroking him several times before pulling the waistband down, letting his cock spring out - red and throbbing, dripping precum for you already and you salivate instantly at the beautiful sight. 

“C’mon, now, sit pretty on this cock f’me,” Joel says, patting his lap impatiently. His cock juts up, immediately pressing against your slick folds when you lower yourself slightly, and you bite back a moan, lip pulled between your teeth. You position yourself over top of his bulbous head, just letting it touch your entrance and swirl your hips, letting your warm arousal start soak his tip. 

Joel moans unashamedly right in your ear, hands now clenched around your hips, squeezing tightly as you tease him. You rub back and forth, gathering more of your slickness onto him, letting it drip down until you know he can barely take it anymore from his labored breathing and tensing muscles. 

“Not - n-ot fuckin’ nice to tease,” he grits out, barely able to speak through clenched teeth. 

“You’ll have to teach me a lesson when you’re feeling better.” You smirk, and sink down slowly so that you can feel each bit of him entering you. Your breathing hitches as you get more and more full, and you hear Joel let out a sigh of his own as your wet heat surrounds him.

Joel’s breathing comes out shaky as your hips press flush with his again, seating yourself completely on his cock. You never fail to be surprised at just how full he makes you - it makes you feel equally insane in the moments you have it and in the ones you don’t.

“Oh, darlin’... fuck,” Joel whines, and you grin wildly, loving the way you’re affecting him right now. You lean back slightly, relaxing onto his chest in pure bliss as Joel keeps you full, his cock throbbing inside your equally pulsating cunt. Joel’s head dips to your shoulder, resting there, and his stubble sends goosebumps across your skin.

“Feels nice, don’t it?” he asks, his voice continuing to shake. He’s trying to keep it together, and you’ve rarely had a chance to see Joel fall apart quite like this, and it’s absolutely beautiful. His body is trembling below you, breath uneven as it fans across your neck, and you swear you can feel every inch of his cock throbbing inside of you, so much more so now that you’re just still. 

“I-it’s hard to keep still,” you say, biting the inside of your lip. 

“I know, I know, me too,” Joel replies soothingly, his palm rubbing up and down your spread thigh. “Let’s just enjoy it, hm? Distract ourselves,” he suggests, trying to turn his attention to the TV. You nod a little, trying to shift slightly to get more comfortable, the movement jostling you just enough that Joel lets out a sharp hiss, and you suck in through your teeth in sync. 

“S-sorry,” you choke out, biting your lip again, harder this time.

“No you ain’t,” Joel snarks, and you both chuckle softly, little movements of your bodies following with it and you both still immediately, eyes widening. A moan threatens to pass your lips as you feel a build up of pressure inside of yourself from Joel’s cock pressing on your walls, and you’re desperate for movement, desperate for friction in your clit as it throbs. 

“Fuck…” Joel breathes, his hand trembling slightly as he continues rubbing your thigh. “You- you're so wet, darlin’, I-I can feel everythin’.”

Your arousal coats his cock, a seemingly endless slickness pouring onto his shaft, starting to want to leak out around him, and you’re only getting more turned on, more antsy to start moving and grinding your hips. 

“Just focus on the TV, lemme enjoy ya,” Joel urges, and you take a deep breath, centering yourself despite the only thing you can feel being Joel inside of you, rock hard and wanting. You manage to glue your eyes to the screen, the droning voices of sports broadcasters reaching your ears, but you can’t hear a word they’re saying. You decide to close your eyes, continuing to rest back on Joel. A small whimper escapes you after a few minutes of trying to ignore the pressure inside of you, but Joel’s hands are all over your body, only making you ache deeper for him, a place deeper than he’s even filling right now that you aren’t sure how to reach. Joel’s own breathing has sped up, and you can feel him, warm and now damp with sweat, a wall of muscle behind you.

“Baby… fuck…” Joel says, fully panting now, “Makin’ me crazy, can feel your little hole flutterin’ f’me honey….” Joel pants for a few more moments, unable to catch his breath completely. “Oh you’re too good, baby, not gonna last like this.”

“Please, I wanna feel you come like this. I’ll feel everything.” You urge him on, your hips absolutely screaming at you to move, to do something. Your hand reaches behind you to his cheek, cupping it and scraping your fingertips along his beard. He buries his head in your shoulder, turning his lips towards your neck.

“I- shit,” Joel groans out, sweat coating his forehead, and you feel his hips twitch underneath you so you double down, pressing your body down into his, trying to give him as little room to move as possible.

“Just like this. Don’t move,” you assure him. You feel him nod into your shoulder, and a whimper passes through his lips that you’ve never heard before. You feel yourself clench around his length at the power trip you’re on, and Joel’s sounds become louder as you cunt tries to milk the orgasm out of him. Your own quiet moans intermix with his and you feel your walls squeeze him, a reminder of just how god damned full you are. 

“You’re so big, feels so fucking good…” you murmur, letting your fingertips trail along your leg. You snake a hand between your thighs, letting your finger just rest on your clit, the pressure heavenly in its aching state. You squirm enough that Joel notices, and his hands fly to your hips in a death grip. 

“Stop movin’, honey, fuck, please,” Joel begs, his panting, growling breaths stuttering out against your shoulders. 

“I can’t… it’s too much,” you whimper, squirming a little more. You’re close too, you can feel it, the overstimulation of Joel’s cock just pressing in the same devastatingly perfect spots inside of you is starting to get to you, a steady build of pleasure swirling in your stomach. 

“Come for me, Joel,” you whisper with a heady voice, turning your neck as much as you can to see his face. 

He lets out a soft whimper that trails off into a little moan, and you feel it all - his hips bucking up slightly into you, trying to press deeper even though there’s no more room left to give, his warm ropes of cum spilling into you, coating you, marking you as his. 

“Jesus,” you whisper, feeling your cunt clench around him as it tries to pull out everything he’s got. Joel breathes heavily against your back before flopping his head back with a satisfied sigh. You follow suit, resting back against him in exhaustion, and Joel winces and lets out a yelp. 

“My back, baby, careful,” he cries out with a grunt, and you sit forward instantly. 

“Shit, s-sorry.” You begin to lift your hips, Joel’s cock wet and heavy as it slides out of you, leaving you so much more empty than you’ve ever felt before. You could’ve lived just like that, full of him, held by him, for the rest of your days. 

“‘M sorry, honey, should’ve been able to…” Joel starts, his cheeks flushed and forehead shining still, but you shush him.

“That was perfect,” you say, smiling brightly to reassure him. You sit next to Joel on the couch, letting one of your arms drape around his torso. 

“Alright, that’s all you get today. Strictly resting the back from here on out, okay?” you say more sternly, rubbing his chest. 

“Oh, yes ma’am,” Joel chuckles, and pauses for a beat, deep in thought. “Look at you, honey. Can’t even believe sometimes this is the same girl I met in June. Bossin’ me around, now.” Joel’s eyes flash mischievously at you. 

“N-no, I just… I want you to feel good - feel better. Not bossing…” you stammer out, the sudden, unconventional compliment from him sending your mind scrambling and face going pink. You shrink down onto the couch slightly, feeling exposed.

“See she’s still in there,” Joel chuckles as you nervously fall apart in front of him, and you give him a shy smile reminiscent of the ones you had when you two first met. “‘S’okay, just givin’ you a hard time. I’ll be a good patient now.” Joel pinches your cheek quickly before letting out a long sigh, leaning back further into the couch and wincing slightly.

You spend the rest of the morning and afternoon coercing Joel into letting you take care of him, and by the evening, he’s complete putty in your hands. He’s fully accepted your care at this point - letting you remind him when to take the heating pad off again without any grumbling, throwing more Advil his way, reminding him to walk around every so often to keep the muscles moving. By the evening, when you offer to run out to pick up dinner for you two, Joel immediately protests with an uncharacteristic whine, swinging an arm around you to hold you down onto the couch.

“What if we jus’ ordered in, hm? Then y’don’t have to leave me,” he asks you, brown eyes going into full begging mode. Joel Miller giving you puppy dog eyes might just be your new favorite thing, you’ve decided, as you smile widely at the sight.

“Oh, you can’t look at me like that, then I’ll never leave,” you reply, tilting your head as you study this completely new expression on Joel’s face.

“That’s kinda the idea, sweetheart,” Joel says, smirking a little now, letting up on the absolutely soul crushing look he was giving you. 

“Well it’s working,” you snip teasingly. “I’ll stay with you then, won’t leave for even a minute.”

“Good,” Joel sighs in relief and relaxes back onto the couch, a satisfied grin on his face.

Joel hardly lets go of you the entire night, arms wrapping around you in any way he can, always pulling you back into him. Even while you’re sleeping, you stir several times when he presses you close again, the heat of his broad chest radiating into your back. You realize that he’s still awake, a restless energy radiating off of him. Your eyes flutter open and you see his eyes cast down, studying you as you turn your head to look up at him.

“What is it?” you whisper hoarsely. “Your back?”

“No, no, that’s feelin’ much better. Jus’ lookin’, go back to sleep now, darlin’,” he replies, smoothing a hand down the side of your head. You raise an eyebrow but feel too half asleep still to pay him much mind or find a retort to tease him with. Instead, you find yourself turning in his arms to face him, burying your head in his chest, warm and steadily moving with his breaths. His dusting of salt and pepper hair tickles your skin just slightly, not enough to bother you, just enough to remind you exactly who you’re close to right now. 

You suddenly feel restless as well despite your heavy eyes and the late hour, the image of the way Joel was just looking at you burned into your mind. Your heart lurches a little and peek your eyes open, yearning to catch him again as you tilt your head up to find his eyes meet you again in the dark of the room. 

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” you mumble accusingly from his chest. 

You feel Joel shrug a little bit around you. “Jus’ cant right this minute. Feelin’ like… I could lose you.”

“Lose me… wh-“ you stutter, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes a few more times. “No, you aren’t. You won’t."

“Did it once,” Joel says solemnly.

“You never really lost me, though.”

Joel remains silent, his brow furrowed slightly, and you can see the deep set lines on his forehead through the little slivers of moonlight streaming in through the curtains. 

“You know that, right?” you ask, and Joel’s continued silence answers it for you before he gives a small shake of his head. 

“I was always yours… I knew I’d never get over it, even if I had moved on, I couldn’t move on from what you left me with, if that makes sense.”

“Suppose it does,” Joel says quietly.

“You’ve had…” you swallow, trying to push back tears that seem hellbent on escaping from your eyes. “A profound effect on me, Joel.”

“Oh, darlin’,” Joel responds, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Never would have moved on, either. Never…” he stumbles on the last few works, his mouth trying to work in as many kisses as he can on your hairline. 

“So we’re really doing this, right Joel? We’re… us again?” you ask, seeming like the answer is already sitting in this conversation you’d just had, but needing to hear it anyways.

“As long as it’s what you’re wantin’, sweetheart. I was all in last night… still am. Been all in since you let me into your life again. This ain’t just a one time lapse in judgment or somethin’, if that’s what you’re worried about. This is the whole damn thing for me.”

You swallow heavily, a knot stuck in your throat at Joel’s words. “You are, too,” you whisper hoarsely, burying your head into his chest again. “The whole damn thing.”

“God…” Joel whispers, his voice cracking underneath the hoarseness of it. “Thank you,” he adds on in a murmur, and you’re not sure who he’s even thanking at this point, but you can just feel the relief sink into his body as he relaxes, melting into you. 

After a while of laying in a comfortable silence, you finally start to doze off again, but Joel’s hand moves up your back to the back of your head, jostling you awake slightly. He’s sending loving strokes along your hair, his touch the most tender you’ve ever felt it somehow. It’s no softer physically than other ways he’s touched you, but the intention behind it shines through, flowing out of his fingertips and warming your skin. You can sense the thickness in the air, the way he’s looking at you with the care of still unspoken words, and you finally get the courage to blink sleepily up at him.

“Sweet girl…” he whispers, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, but his eyes are too entranced, mind too busy with his thoughts of you to fully commit to it. You give him a bright, closed lip smile, feeling the corners of your eyes crinkle as you sigh into the way he’s still delicately sliding his hand along your hair. 

He murmurs your name like a prayer on his lips and you know the next words out of his mouth, but you still buzz, the anticipation of watching his lips part in what feels like slow motion as you await the inevitable, world changing sounds that will fall from them. 

“I love you.” 

The words reach your ears in a kind of haze, as if they’re far away, quiet, and taking their sweet time to get to you. Your head suddenly spins, not realizing how deeply you’d needed to hear those words uttered from Joel’s tongue, and for how long. You’d known for months now you were madly, deeply, irrationally, infuriatingly in love with Joel Miller. It made you want to pull your own hair out some days, and others made you want to crawl as close as you could possibly get to him, to mold you into the same person, share the same skin. It was a sickening, panicked love - one you knew you could never live without unless you wanted a whole part of yourself to be missing. Rough but sweet, calloused but soft, all of the things that were you and Joel separately and you and Joel together. It hurt so badly that it started to feel good, to know you were loved by Joel. 

“I -” you mumble, the surprising sting of tears behind your eyes instantly brimming and threatening to fall. You blink quickly and suck in your breath, an added pressure to a body that already feels close to bursting with the whirlwind of emotions you feel right now.

“I love you.”

Joel lets your return of his sentiment sink in for several quiet moments, simply him breathing heavily with his forehead pressed against yours, eyes closed. 

“I-I’m not always good with sayin’ things how I need them to come out, so… c-can I show you?” Joel says, voice low as he shifts his body to turn so he’s completely facing you. 

“Show me?” Your heart picks up at his movement, the change in his tone, the tense air that surrounds the two of you. 

“How much… I love you.” He pulls you flush, your warmth mingling with his, your bodies close to practically becoming the same person. 

“J-joel…” you gasp out, feeling your lungs constrict and heart ready to burst out of your chest. He’s hard and soft everywhere, his muscles holding you tightly but lovingly - you’re so safe here, so beloved. His cock aches against you already, nothing separating the two of you since you’d both fallen asleep naked, the length of him pressing against your thigh. 

“Can I?” he asks again, not impatiently, but simply that he’s desperate to give this to you, for you to know what he’s feeling. 

“Yes,” you breathe out, nodding. “Show me.”

“So much… so much…” Joel’s words trail into a whisper as his lips meet yours, passionate but gentle, mouth immediately opening into yours. Long, sensual kisses as his tongue begs for entry and you permit it, nearly gasping at the way he feels right now - a tense control over himself, wanting to show you everything sweet he has in there, that his roughness can be loving, too. You can barely breathe, moaning into his mouth as your hips grind into nothing, seeking out more of him.

Your bodies meld together at once, his cock sliding between your legs as you both quickly solve the puzzle of the best way to interlock your bodies together, barely having to put any thought into it. It’s so natural with Joel, it always has been. Your hand slides under his neck and around to his back, leg thrown over his hip as he lays on his side, pulling you in closer. 

He teases you only a few times, dragging his hard length through your slit with a few lazy thrusts of his hips to gather up your arousal. At your whimpering noises he pulls his mouth off of yours to gaze at you with a heady stare.

“Lemme look at you,” Joel says, his hand coming up cup your cheek, a sense of home right in his fingertips. You lean yourself into it, sighing as you look into the familiar sight of his eyes, pupils blown out with need, but there’s a delicacy there, a desire beyond his usual hunger. His fingers curl around the back of your head as they gently grasp your hair into his hand. His eyes search your face, bouncing around your features, and you’re unsure of what he’s looking for, what he’s thinking. 

“Never looked more beautiful, baby,” he marvels, his voice a hoarse whisper as he slowly pulls his hips back and then pushes them forward, letting the head of his cock sit at your entrance for a moment before tentatively pushing in further. You gasp, clutching onto his back and digging your nails in at the slow, gorgeous stretch of him moving into you. You both breathe out shakily, a long sigh of relief at feeling the other’s body fitting so perfectly together. 

Joel’s lips find yours again with slow, tender kisses as he starts to move his hips. Your entire body shudders at the unhurried movements of his cock dragging in and out of you, slow and messy. His lips lose some of their accuracy now too, catching the corners of your mouth, inching down to your jawline and neck as he buries himself in you. You’re both letting every sound you need leave your lips, little moans and whimpers filling the room accompanied by the noises your bodies are creating together as you get impossibly more wet, coating him, leaking around him and down onto both of your thighs. 

“Jesus, Joel,” you whine, barely able to take just how heavenly it feels to be wholly his in this moment. 

Your eyes flutter as your pussy clenches around him, the gentle thrusts making you absolutely wild. Joel was right - you can feel every morsel of his love like this - the way he’s pouring everything he has into you now. 

“I’ll give y’everything, angel, make you so happy if you let me, oh f-fuck,” Joel stutters out, splaying his hand out on your lower back to help press you closer with each inward push he makes into your pussy. “Make you all mine, always, if y’let me, if y’want me to…” Joel sounds like he could nearly start to cry with the intensity of the moment, caught up in the way he’s expressing his emotions to you. 

“Always, always… want you, Joel,” you whisper back as you pant with need, starting to feel a warm heat coiling in your core. “Forever,” you say without a care, not bothering to think about the heavy meaning of the word, knowing you mean it well past the heat of the moment you’re in right now. Knowing you’d say it to Joel again and again in the light of day, the heat of the night, and any time in between. 

“Forever, angel.”

Joel’s thrusts gain speed, not much, but enough that both of you are edging closer to a climax by the second, the both of you panting promises to each other through all of the moans and whimpers. You’re both drenched in sweat, sloppy and wet all over, your bodies not offering an inch of space from the other as your lips clash over and over, barely even recognizing where any of your movements together begin and end. It’s pure perfection - beyond anything Joel has shown you before, reserved and only possible in a moment like this one. 

Everywhere Joel presses inside of you starts to ignite, your entire body becoming desperately taut as you feel a warmth tingling throughout you, spreading from where Joel is hitting so perfectly. 

“I’m gonna come, Joel, make me come, j-just like that,” you manage to say, your brain starting to go blank with thoughts of only Joel, only this pleasure. 

“Oh, honey, so good, lemme feel you,” Joel encourages you, keeping the exact pace he was on to get you over the edge. 

You cry out, long moans as everything snaps suddenly, and Joel’s arms wrap tightly around you, shielding you and pressing you into his chest as you shudder, your entire body overtaken by this pleasure. 

“Good girl, good girl, good girl,” Joel chants, pressing himself as deep as he can repeatedly, helping you ride out your high. He watches your face intently, the way your eyes are screwed shut and mouth agape, gasping and moaning for him. His hand grips tightly around your face, dwarfing it underneath his long, thick fingers. “Love my good girl.”

His words send you whimpering in ecstasy as you feel seemingly never ending waves of your climax hitting you, your cunt fluttering and squeezing Joel’s cock over and over. Joel gasps and you can feel his body shaking against yours, urged on by the way yours is responding to him. 

“Gonna come too… squeezin’ me so good like that…” Joel says, panting harder now. “Let me fill you up, get you full of me, baby.” Joel rambles on, his body purely concentrated on climaxing as he sloppily ruts his hips into you a few more times before burying himself to the hilt with a long grunt. 

“Fill me up,” you whine as you feel him spilling into you, nearly wanting to come again at how good it feels to have him give himself to you like this. A final groan and then Joel collapses, his body rolling further into yours and you sigh out a sound of pure contentment, letting yourself press back into Joel. He kisses your face, peppering you with languid, lazy presses of his lips, and you can feel his mind is scrambled, elsewhere right now.

“D’you see? What you do to me?” he asks quietly in between kisses.

You nod into him. “Same as what you do to me.”

He gives an exhausted chuckle and you can feel the smile tug on his lips as they sit against your skin. 

“I found your note,” you blurt out, unsure of where the thought even came from so suddenly. You feel Joel stiffen and then open your eyes to see the flash of recognition on Joel’s face and he softens even further.

“‘M glad you did,” he replies, his hand starting to stroke along your back. You feel goosebumps tickle you at his touch even with your skin still blazing and damp from the way he’d just fucked you. “Hate that y’read it at such a bad time, but I swear, meant every word of it.”

“I know you did. It… made me realize…” you say, trailing off into your own thoughts, remembering the mixed emotions of the day you’d read his words scrawled out for you, seeing on paper for the first time that he loves you.

“What, hm? Realize what?” he presses you, quiet and soft.

“It’ll always be you, Joel.”

He’d hardly let you out of his sight the entire week other than work, bringing you back home with him every night, and dropping you off to work in the morning. A man possessed, or re-possessed, you supposed, his hands finding you every chance they got - a commanding hand on your thigh the minute you got in his car, his grip tight around your waist the second the front door closed behind the two of you, lips finding any part of your skin he could see. 

He was frenzied yet controlled, somehow always a paradox of some sort with Joel. His fear of experiencing the loss he’d felt when you two were apart was too much for him to bear, too painful to even consider possible again, so he kept pulling you close, “I love you”’s whispered in the most mundane of moments - you’d heard it countless times over the last week, always happy to return the words. 

Now that you’d both said it, you were unstoppable. I love you I love you I love you. You think the words whenever you see him, a constant loop playing in the background of your mind. You speak the words when he catches your eye too long, falling like a mantra from your lips over and over, making sure he understands the truth of it all. You’re both desperately trying to make sure the other knows the depth of your obsession, your love, for each other.

You find yourself lost in your thoughts as you sit in the shade provided by the house’s shadow in the mid morning sun, feet tucked up under you on one of Joel’s cushy outdoor chairs. After practically keeping you at his house the entire week, today Joel insisted on mowing the lawn despite him complaining about his bad back the rest of the entire week. You’d done your best to keep him from overexerting himself, but if you’ve learned anything at all about Joel Miller, he’ll always be a stubborn man with a mind of his own. 

You clutch the most recent book on your to-be-read list in your lap, your other hand on a warm mug of coffee. Joel’s made another pot of it, just because you yawned one too many times, insisting that you needed more caffeine if you were going to keep up with the plans he had for you later. You take a long sip, savoring the flavor, the coffee tasting better only because the man you love made it for you. You peer up from your book, the loud buzzing of the lawn mower breaking through your concentration again, and you’re met with a sight you’d gladly let steal your attention any day.

Joel’s white shirt is soaking through with sweat, an unseasonably warm autumn day that had prompted Joel to do yard work in the first place. He pauses mowing the lawn to lift his shirt up, wiping the gathering perspiration from his forehead quickly, and as he grips the lawn mower again, he catches you watching him. His face instantly lights up, a sweet little smile that he only shares with you, like a secret language you’re learning to read better each day. When his expression suddenly turns a bit more devious, he makes sure to wipe his face off once more for good measure, giving you a free show of his glistening torso. His eyes taunt you after, brows raised expectantly for a few moments, and you return the gesture with your own brows, letting Joel know exactly how you feel about what you’re seeing. 

Something about the whole scene feels familiar, that odd sense of déjà vu creeping up on you and making the hairs on your neck stand up a little bit despite the heat in the air. You try to put your finger on it, and it’s not until your roaming gaze lingers across the fence, catching on the large oak tree in your parents back yard that it strikes you. 

The way you used to lay right there and watch Joel do the exact thing you are right now, and relishing in the sight all the same. Trying to be inconspicuous, thinking he’d never notice the neighbor girl trying to catch a glimpse as he sweat and glistened under the hot sun. You’d let your mind wander as you watched him, questioning what things would be like if you’d ever get the courage to speak to him, if he’d ever even give you the time of day. Oh, how wrong you’d been, how completely wrong to think Joel couldn’t look at you that way. 

You can’t help but marvel a bit at the memories, seeing where you are now, across that fence and having Joel go so far as to want you to watch him so blatantly now. Some things never change, but you realize that you surely have. You hardly recognize the girl you were back in June - so unsure of herself, wondering what she could be worth to anyone, let alone a man like Joel. But you now realized that while you’re certainly intent on keeping Joel around for… well, the rest of your life, at the least he’s left you with so much to carry on inside of yourself.

Joel catches your daydream-like expression as he finishes his mowing and approaches you. You now get a closer look at just how god damned handsome he is, and you feel lucky all over again, tears coming to your eyes unexpectedly. It nearly feels like a dream - the way the sun lights him up from behind, his broad form and muscles shining so delightfully, so pleasing to the eye. The way his face, every feature loved by you in its own special way, has already gone softer at seeing the tears in your eyes as he walks towards you. 

Everything about this little moment in time feels indescribable to you, nostalgia and tender heartedness and love overflowing inside of you. You grasp onto your current reality and hold on tight, wanting to live inside this day over and over if you can, wanting this one truth to stay feeling perfectly clear to you - you’re simply… happy. 

taglist: @paleidiot@mumma-moonchild@soph55 @chicville03@joelsversion@feliciab1990@fellinfromthetop@gossipgirl-03@sarap-77@blueseastorm @akah565​@pattwtf @scarletthefierce

i'm so sorry if ur tag doesn't work, i really don't understand why tumblr does this ><

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for watching a movie as a family without including my dad? Writing it out, I think I know the answer, but this has still been bugging me.

Around Thanksgiving I (30s) visited home. It was also a trip to see for my mom (late 60s) for her birthday, so I was there for a few days longer than a Thanksgiving trip would normally account for. My brother (30s) and his wife (30s) visited for her birthday too. My dad (early 70s) was there as well. They've been married over 30 years. Originally I'd planned to take everybody out to see a movie as a birthday present for my mom...but it turned out there was literally nothing at the theater that my mom was interested in at all. The town is pretty small, and the options were limited. So instead, we started out with a nice dinner, and family board game run-through of a trivia game we all thought we'd have some fun with. My mom ended up winning, which is rare and was not deliberate, and it wrapped the game up way faster than we'd anticipated.

My dad immediately went back into the living room after the game ended, openly a little annoyed that mom had won a trivia game based on something he considers himself the family expert in. He watches old reruns of the show he's seen a million times on a loop every day, and it can be pulling teeth to get him to do anything else. It was just a fluke, but something the rest of us considered a pleasant surprise since none of us had expected she'd win. But he was annoyed. Given that it was still early, Mom suggested we find a movie to watch online, so we could all wind down before bed with something the whole family could enjoy.

Dad said no. Now this feels like important context: I...have a lot of problems with my dad. I love him, but he can be extremely emotionally immature. Downright verbally abusive at times. And very petty. I'm in therapy in no small part due to some of the insecurities he instilled in me over the years. I've worked hard to set basic boundaries with him. He also has multiple medical issues, and I'm pretty sure he has untreated depression and other mental health problems he refuses to acknowledge that contribute to him flying off the handle at a moment's notice. That, combined with the fact that my mom will 100% never, ever leave him, because she was raised in a very specific mindset that she's never been fully able to shake...means my brother and I usually have to grit our teeth when he starts ranting/yelling/complaining during a visit, or we'd just end up ruining the day for our mom. She's done so much for us, and we just wanted her to have a good visit. So, that's what I did for most of the trip. I breathed deep when my dad openly mocked my stutter, and refused to get in a fight about it. I stopped myself from getting visibly upset when he tried to feed my cat table scraps even when I told him the cat needs a special diet. On other days I tried to watch his old shows with him, and ignored the sexist comments he'd make about the female leads, all for the sake of keeping the peace.

But, it was Mom's birthday. And she wanted to watch a movie.

And Dad said no.

He refused to give up his marathon of old westerns from 60 years ago to watch a new movie with his family on the big tv in the living room.

My mom seemed disappointed, so I suggested we watch one on my laptop in the kitchen instead. Without my dad, if he really wanted to watch his show instead. She agreed, and my brother, his wife, my mom and I filed into the kitchen, sat in less-than-comfy chairs, and watched a fantasy heist film that I'd thought they would all enjoy. And they did. My brother was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the movie (I'd already vouched for it being good, none of the others had seen it previously) His wife kept making notes for her dnd campaign. My mom found it hilarious, and liked that some actors from another show she liked were in it.

My dad stayed in the living room, watching his marathon.

Partway through the movie, he came in and asked us what we were watching. We told him, and he passed through the kitchen for something he needed, then said that we were being too loud. More context: the kitchen is right next to the living room, but my dad turns the tv up so loud in there it can get physically painful to be in the room with him. He refuses to get hearing aides, and only recently relented on subtitles. He also has a habit of screaming at anyone who tries to talk for a long time when his shows are on and they're in earshot, even if they're in a different room. We thought he couldn't hear it over his tv, and so when he said something we said sorry and that we'd try to keep it down, but we could already barely hear it through the laptop speakers. We already had subtitles turned on to make sure we didn't miss anything. When we told him that, he got even more annoyed. He asked how we'd like it if he turned the tv up so loud we couldn't understand anything, then proceeded to go into the living room and do just that, just as I was trying to figure out how much more we could lower the volume without losing our whole experience. We called in that we were already turning it down, and he finally turned his volume back down as well. We finished our movie, turning the volume down during action scenes and up during speaking scenes so we could actually hear the dialog. We enjoyed the rest of the film, and then people started getting ready for bed, and my mom went to check on my dad. She told me a few minutes later that he was hurt that we'd watched the movie without him. That he felt left out. I told her that he'd had multiple opportunities to join us, and that is was his choice not to watch with us. And honestly, the fact that he wouldn't give up the real tv for a couple hours so she could have a birthday movie was really upsetting to me.

She still seemed to feel bad that he was left out, and I'm a little worried that he might've sulked for days afterwards, leaving my mom in an even more stressful environment after I left. Am I the asshole for insisting my mom get to watch a movie on her birthday? And would I be the asshole if I told my dad off for what I consider to be extremely selfish behavior?

Also before anyone asks, no, I'm not cutting him off. It's literally impossible to do that without pretty much cutting off my mom as well, and she absolutely doesn't deserve that. And yes, I've offered up my apartment as a place she can stay if she ever needs to. Repeatedly. She hasn't taken me up on it yet.

What are these acronyms?

[demonshauntingthedoves]

Chapter 1

Perfedious : to be deceitful.

Pairing : Yandere!Seokjin x female reader (Mirae)

Summary : After years of blind pining, you're finally struck with some sense and realise your unrequited feelings for your sister's husband are never going to be reciprocated, so you decide to leave all the torment but there is something heavily holding you back, it's Seokjin's dead grip and the ugly claws of all your past mistakes you need to pay for.

Warnings : yandere behavior, pseudo incest, infelidity, heavy angst, family drama, eventual smut, guilt tripping, emotional characters, pregnancies.

WordCount : 4200+

The bus engine roars to life and so does your heart, anticipating to be free from the weight it holds. As the vehicle pulls away from the curb, you sank deeper into your sit. You closed your eyes and drew out a sigh- surrendering and letting the bus drag you away from the sins you ploughed behind. Your weary eyes were fixated on the window, watching the cityscape fade away gradually. Slowly the streets grew smaller and blurrier.

You glimpsed at your reflection in the windowpane- hollow eyes tiredly fluttering. You saw the reminder of your pain decorating the red rims of your swollen eyes and that was enough to make your tears well up again. You clasped your lashes shut, guilty tears running down your pale cheeks.

In times when everything got too much. Too unbearable.

You'd done one and only one thing and that was runaway.

You'd go away.

Far away from home.

---------------

Harsh remarks, biting sarcasm, belittling words, that was all your mother had for you. Maybe that was what came as second nature to all mothers. They often nagged and ranted to their children.You'd even asked your friend Ari, if her mother also shouted at her all the time.

"Yeah, she scolds me but she always hugs me and caresses me after that." You ten year old friend had told you.

But your mother never did the latter part. She'd just leave you all sad and sobbing alone.

No loving words, no soft caress and no motherly warmth. You never got that. Atleast not after your father left home untold. It was after that day, her resentment towards you and your sister grew like a dark creeper. You'd never known the reason until one day you did.

"Your father left me because I couldn't give him a son!! There was no other reason for him to leave!!" She had spat irrationally on your faces.

It had hurt a lot at the sprouting age of twelve when she called you and your sister a liability. Minsu was older by eight years. Despite getting the same harsh treatment as you, you'd always thought she was at least lucky to have spent more years in the presence of father when everything was well. Unlike you who got no parental love and care.

Your mother had nothing to give you except her indifference.

No love.

No warmth.

And at some point, you stopped craving and begging for it as a child.

As the irritable years went by, it became more and more unnerving. And you no longer wanted to live like a quiet and depressed child, so you rebelled. You'd throw back comments and on queue the whole house would fill with shouts and screams. You were a total of three ladies in the house but the volume of noises that were heard outside were ten folds.

Your mother didn't wavered by your teenage rebellion. She just got more chances to cause drama. Reasonless arguing and condescending words.

Even public humiliation, the one time she came to meet your homeroom teacher. Nothing was worse when Miss.Choi had awkwardly asked you if she was your stepmother because indeed she treated you like one.

It became so exhausting that you gave up on fights and found ways to escape.

You stayed extras in school, went for night camps and trips, you just ran away from home.

This kept you away from your mother's temper tantrums for days.

You'd sleep more peacefully under the open starry sky than the roof of your own home.

-----------------

You were seventeen, when you had quite fortunately stumbled into this good-looking young man.

That time your nose had almost flared in anger looking at the feets of the stranger who had made you fall down until you looked up to see a handsome face.

That was the very first time you saw Seokjin.

Your face had changed from a dark shade of red to light shade of pink as you awed beautiful man.You were literally ogling at him from your tumbled down position.He was in his creaseless suit and dress pants.You had pretended to not notice the buckle of your knees when you took in his appearance.

How could a person be so handsome?

Your next camping trip was filled with whispers and giggles about the handsome man you had encountered and quite obviously got a little crush on. Your friend Ari had teased you all along the trip.She'd winked and nudged you with mischievous eyes and playful smile whenever you both shared a task and left you flustered.

It was under the canvas tents, that Ari had filled your head with intriguing and exciting scenarios about the man while chattering like a gleeful cat who was happy for her best friend to find a man for herself. Though it was far from the truth.

That day a tender symphony had played faintly in your heart.

That night, you had dreamt about him out of your impending fascination and admiration. 'His broad back; adorned in a white tuxedo; facing you. And then he turned back slowly- you stared at his beutific face, then his styled hair, then his pillowy lips and then his pretty eyes which fluttered up to look at you. You saw the caves filled with gems and diamonds in his sparkling eyes. And then you saw the velvet box in his hand which extended towards you.The box opened to reveal a precious diamond ring glazing so brightly that you shut your eyes from its intensity.'

Only to open your eyes and see Ari's groggy face the next morning.

Just the reminder of the fantasy brought a blushing hue on your face and fluttery feeling in your stomach. When you told Ari, she had squealed so loud in the bus and grinned at you.

"Your eyes are literally shining since you saw him, you know that." Ari told you in excitement.

"In all honesty, we should really go find him and then why not give it a try!!" Ari suggested.

And you shushed her because the single thought of meeting him again gave you tingles everywhere.

You had seen many girls with teeny tiny crushes but never thought you'd be one.

But again

You knew you were being stupid to dream about a man who was probably twice your age.

But again

It wouldn't hurt to dream.

-------------------

In the drapes of spring blossom, your sister got married.

As the vows and kisses were exchanged beneath the flower beds, your heart too, like the petals, fell to the ground.

The diamond in her ring finger shined just like the coat of tears welling up in your eyes.

Happy tears and sad tears.

You feigned the biggest smile till your cheeks hurt.

You had never thought you'd be so upset from inside at your beloved sister's wedding but you couldn't help it.

It was worth a grimace how familiar her groom looked to the man in your dreams.

Because indeed it was him.

Kim Seokjin

What a laughable coincidence it was!

Everything had happened so abruptly.

On the day you returned from your trip, you saw Seokjin for the second time.

But the foolish grin on your face was wiped away the moment you saw him sitting on your couch with your sister.

Their hands were intertwined like lovers.

And you were more surprised to see your mother's pleased face, who soon after declared they could wed in the coming week. The little celebration was carried on with clinks of wine glasses and plates of special dishes.

And you sat there dumbfounded and baffled by the sudden decision.

Minsu hadn't said a single thing about this.

Your sad face never went unnoticed by her and she explained to you with a calm sigh,

" I know Rae, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you but I was unaware that he liked me just as much I liked him."

"And then he proposed to me all of a sudden and I didn't feel like there was a single reason to say no."

And then she smiled bashfully like a damsel.

"Fate is a wondrous thing, Rae. I'm so grateful to the scriptor above wrote him in my fate."

Damn the scriptor.

You stomach had churned when you asked her,

"Do you love him?"

She looked at your glassy eyes.

"Do you think I'll marry a man I don't love?"

"Ofcourse I love him. Who wouldn't?" You felt your breath sink from her last sentence. You had seen the love and sincerity in her eyes.

Then her gaze shifted with concern to you and she squeezed your shoulder lightly.

"You are happy, right?" She asked you.

Your eyes darted away. You couldn't do this to her. You would not crush over her man. You should not.

You pulled her in a tight hug and hid your face as hopeless tears ran down your cheeks. You didn't know why you were feeling this myriad of emotions all of a sudden.

You couldn't place your finger on what you were feeling. There were so many things at once.

"Ofcourse I'm happy for you. J-just don't forget about me. Don't leave me alone with that omen." You heard her chuckle as she patted your hair.

"I will never leave you Rae, I promise."

------------------

And that was how you stood beside her as her maid of honour. You stole a few glances at Seokjin who was so blissfully unaware about the way your heart and stomach felt tingles by looking at him.

You were so shameless to stare at him with intent just to see if he was really there and you weren't dreaming again.

You're not gonna lie but Seokjin looked so exquisite in his attire. So so beautiful that you almost got lost in watching him smile.

Seokjin wanted to have a small and uncrowded ceremony. He booked a hotel which was decorated like paradise. Interior graced with soft looking pink and white roses. And the garden was filled with cherry blossoms.

It was a wedding everyone dreamt of.

Under the trees, you sat with a pout and looked at the couple who were busy posing and capturing the memories of their wedding in the garden. Post wedding shoot.

Seokjin and Minsu,

They looked good together.

Now that you consider thinking, you were actually being childish and stupid to even have thought that you held any chance with him.

It was a stupid crush.

Little doration and little fascination, that was it all.

And it was plain stupid and dumb, to put so much strain and stress to your mind with whatever you were feeling.

Not only you but anyone would wish to have a man like him.

That's it.

One thing you knew was Minsu was dear to you and you'd do anything for.

So what you had to do now was let go of this stupid crush and the intrusive thoughts that came with it.

He was your brother in law now.

Avoid it or not.

And yet again you couldn't control the loud beating of your heart as he walked over to where you sat. Behind him, Minsu was still posing in her wedding gown.

You inhaled his expensive rosewood perfume as he sat down beside you.

Thank God your ears were covered by your hair or else he would have seen how red and hot they had turned.

"So, did you enjoy the wedding, Mirae?" He tried to strike a conversation with you.

You tried not to shy away from his gaze even if you were squealing inside just by hearing your name roll down his tongue.

" I-I did, it was gorgeous with all the flowers." You smiled and stared at the rose in his hand.

"And the food?"

" I didn't get to try the buffet yet because mother warned me to not eat before you both. I need to accompany you both."

Your voice grew smaller at the end thinking you spoke more than you needed to.

You heard his melodious chuckles looking at your frowning face.

"You don't need to worry about it, you can just go and have the food. Minsu had specially selected your favourite dishes."

Your eyes brightened at that and you looked up at him only to see him fondly smiling at you. He looked so princely. Your hands unintentionally squeezed the fabric of your baby pink dress.

You shook your head,

"No, I'll better wait for you both. And I guess Minsu's shoot is about to end."

You both looked at Minsu who was flaunting in her white gown ahead. Dangling a large bouquet of roses in her hand.

In your periphery, you saw him fiddling with a rose in his hand. He might have used it for the photoshoot.

You flinched when a blossom fell on you and he laughed at you. Your cheeks would have been dusted red by now.

"Why don't we go on a walk near the river until she gets back?"

He gestured towards the river at the other end of the garden. You gave a tiny nod and walked side by side.

The ceremony had ended by late noon and now the sun was dipping down the river. You had to crane your neck up just to look at his side face.

" I didn't get to ask this before but are you happy for your sister? "

You were stunned for a moment but put up a smile and replied,

"Yes, why would I not be? You both love each other and that's enough for me to be happy for her"

That's enough for me to let my chance go.

You were already getting tired to answer this same question again and again. Sick of convincing yourself that you were, happy.

You gulped when he observed your face for a few seconds, his eyes reflecting the golden sunset behind you and then he nodded.

Peering into his bourbon eyes was making your breath uneven. He was so so handsome, you had never witnessed a man like him. It was so hard for you to conceal the velvet fondness in your eyes.

You tried not to stare.

You tried not to show.

You were about to turn your face away to stare at the river on other side and also to hide your reddened face. But he tucked your elbow lightly,

"Wait"

His face was merely away from yours as he leaned down with furrowed brows. Your heart almost cried happily at his soft touch.

The symphony had come back and played in your heart again. Pellucid.

His leaned closer and his sweet wine-tinged breath hit you. Your legs were shaking under your frock. You were being skittish. If not for the light grasp he had on your hand, you would have staggered back and fell in the open river. Because your legs were out of control.

Like your heart.

Like your breath.

Like the ruby blood rushing to your full cheeks.

What were you feeling?

And what was he doing?

He plucked something from your lash and held the tiny piece of petal that had stuck in your lashes unknowingly.

"Uh, I saw this. It would have gone in your eye so I removed it."

He said simply as if he didnt just wrench your breath away and backed away.

You swiftly turned around to look at the shining ripples of water. Your eyes darted everywhere but at him.

You gasped when you saw something on the ground and crouched to pick it up.

Seokjin furrowed his eyebrows and leaned to look at the little leaf flat against your little palm, as you showed it to him.

A four-leaf clover

"You know it's so rare to find. Only the luckiest ones get the chance."

He was amused by hearing that and asked,

"So does it have more speciality?"

You nodded hurried and told him,

" Yes it does! The first three leaves are for hope, faith and love. And the fourth one which is rare to exist brings luck."

"Hmm..So aren't you the lucky one?"

You wanted to laugh and tell him that you were anything but.

It was ironic

To find a four clover on one your unluckiest days, if you put it out like that.

You grinned at him to hide your grimace and shrugged,

" I hope so I am."

" Ofcourse you are, now you got a brother-in-law at your side."

He said playfully and proudly.

Your insides winced at the mention of that awful term, you were already annoyed with that claim.

"But honestly, I will always love and protect Minsu, and hopefully take care of you too. I never thought I'd have such a little sister in law." He babbled his confession.

You had got so caught up with that 'take care of you too' that you didn't hear what he said next.

"I know how you two have been close and dealt with-with your mother, but I promise that- from now on I'll keep your sister happy."

You were melting at his words, at his need to constantly reassure you. That he found you important enough to assure it to. He was making you feel like the bigger person by saying those sugary words. And no one had ever taken that effort.

He even offered you the small pink rose in his hand to seal his promise.

And you took it with dreamy eyes, which you were sure won't get any sleep tonight.

--------------

The bus screeched to a halt. You stepped down clumsily, clutching your bag. The bus drove off and you spun to walk forward as strides of your heels hit the cobblestoned lane of the small town.

The memories of your childhood swirled around you, winding through the streets like fleeting chuckles. Lollipops. Paper windmills. Little balloons. Your father.

This was his hometown.

The breeze caressed your face as if reassuring you that everything will be alright. You reached the designated home and knocked on the wooden door, only to be greeted by your Grandma's mushy face which bloomed with a welcoming smile.

The haven of herbs and medicines greet you next. Your grandma was a traditional therapist. She was known around for her herbal therapy. Everyone came to her 'Healing Home' for cure.

And maybe you did too. You came here for a cure. To seek her healing water which would wash you off your sins. To seek a balm to treat the wounds of remorse.

And to seek a refugee to coop up your pathetic broken self in.

It came easy for you to conceal what's inside you- your feelings. Conceal. Hide. Obscure them. That was what you had done all your life.

So just like your feelings, you wanted to hide yourself to. Anywhere. Away from prying eyes. Distant the whispers of blame and shame in your head. Detach yourself from his lingering scent.

You wanted to hide away and curl and cry and sought and mend yourself. And nothing was better than your grandmother's mending shelter.

She offered you tea. Caramel evenings were spend with honey teas and baked cinnamon rolls. You talked to her and told her how you wanted to take a break away from the city. You lied to her that office work was stressing and making you sick. You needed time away from all that and find peace.

Away from home.

Away from him.

Next I Main Masterlist

A/N : This chapter is pretty much about female mc and how she starts to like Seokjin.The seed is just sown. NGL it was way to angsty. Seokjin is good and kind in this and will be in further chapters until the facade slips.

Hope you all like this. Also comment if you wanna get added in the tag list.

@themochiverse

[jjkookiee346]

STAY A LITTLE LONGER BABE-JJK

Synopsis: people say heartbreak from relationship is difficult but heartbreak from a relationship which barely existed is much more worse

Pairing: jungkook × y/n

Genre: angst

Word count: 5107

Warning: bit of explicit language, mention of public harassment, trust issues,insecurities,longing,

Note: this my first ever fic and English is not my first language so suggestion and remarks are very much welcomed. Story had been bit inspired by personal experience of author and fic is mostly based on y/n pov. Inspired by rosé song stay a little longer.

Going to college after a very long semester break was so much more difficult. I thought waking up would be the most difficult part, but I was definitely wrong. Leaving my house in this cold weather has been much more difficult. 5:30. A.M. indeed looks so dark, and this chilly weather with fog is much, much worse.

Reaching college was nerve-wracking; not seeing any of my friends for almost 4 months is making it feel like I'm all of a sudden a fresher. And reaching my class, I finally see my friend Namjoon.

God, I missed him. We couldn't wait and just started to share how much of a difficulty it was to wake up. Y/N, I'm telling you, this is against human rights for sure! We should just go and file a case against this timing. That rant of his was able to get a giggle out of me. While he was ranting, I heard Perisha and Tina calling me to accompany them to the washroom.

Wtf? Perisha was scared for sure. You are going to make me go deaf, Tina. Tina looked a bit apologetic, but Aisha was going to say more when Tina replied, "You won't like looking at the wall." Holy cow! Finally there was a much-anticipated wall mirror there. I guess we were on a good girl list of Santa's. And there goes the college bell, shit college bell! The way we ran to our class, pretty proud of ourselves After the national anthem and college anthem, my bench partner and I couldn't wait to spill our tea. In the midst of everything, I can't help but look at his bench. A very bad habit. And the feeling of something missing that I can't let go of. Dina, my benchmate, couldn't stop herself and just kept on talking about her trip to her hometown. While I was lost in my thoughts, his name pulled me out, huh? Y/nnn, did you hear Jungkook moved abroad? All I could do was act confused and not give her much more reaction than that. I mean, of course I did; how could I not?

September 2023

God! Why do I have to give a college entrance exam? Can't they just admit all of us? was all I could think on my way to college. Nerve-wracking man... entering the college with my entrance card, all I could think about was how everyone here is with their friends. Shit! My year gap and I already feel left out. Lost in my thoughts, I didn't even realize how I followed the volunteering person to my exam room; after thanking her, I just wanted to get done with this.

1 hour later

The exam was not that bad; I mean, I was smiling on my way to exit. But my luck, it looks like it's going to rain, and I don't have an umbrella. God, please don't let it rain till my Uber is here. All while waiting for Uber, I saw him for the first time, a man a few meters away from me, alone, maybe waiting for his Uber too, I guess. And an awkward staring contest... and finally my prayers were heard; my Uber is here. One last glance at the stranger, and I get on my bus. He was pretty handsome, but whatever. 

2 weeks later

I still couldn't believe I got in; I thought my year gap would be an issue, but I guess my academic history did it. And I'm late to my first orientation class. Shit, is it only me who is alone? Shit, shit, and wait, that handsome stranger just passed by me? I'm not alone? And then he gets in the room, so followed by me. All my thoughts while entering the room were that he got some big foot. And one of the scary parts of the interaction, since I'm late, is who do I sit with? After scanning the room, I finally spotted someone with a vacant seat beside the handsome dude.

Hi, can I sit here? Yes, go ahead, and permission granted by a pretty stranger and maybe my friend for 4 years. And orientation starts; god, it was boring. And in the midst of it, I look at that dude in front of me; he sketches well. Wait, is he sketching when he is on the first bench? Is he not scared??? Was all I could think, sure. I'm pretty sure my eyes are looking like it's gonna pop off, but wtf? He has guts.

4 days later,

Whoo the fuck keeps an orientation program for fucking 9 days? Was all I could say to Jennifer, the prettyy stranger from that day who let me sit beside her; it turns out one of her friends also studies here, so now I'm third-wheeling them.

While complaining,onee teacher asked us to do something so nerve-wracking:, "So guys, I want you to form a circle of 8 and it better be both girls and boys in one group."  And there he is,thes handsome stranger in my group. "Now everyone,I want you guys to interact, know your names, and go around asking other group mates names too. And a group that can give us alot of names will win.". I couldn't focus after that; all I could think about was interaction with strangers. My anxiety was already in peak when I decided to go a day without a mask.  And now talk. I couldn't focus. Pretty handsome boy told me his name. I did too, but I couldn't remember it,and that sucked. But he has a very pretty smile.

Next day,

I'm late again! And Jennifer and her friend just went inside without me. Remind me to not wait for them again, please. Being late was one thing, and getting inside alone when everyone is inside is another thing. All the attention on me. My hand is sweating, and fuck! I did spot Jennifer and her friend, but they didn't even save a seat for me. Jennifer was mumbling sorry, but all my expression was giving fuck off! Already betrayed. I chose to sit alone, but boy, I guess luck is not on my side at all, because why the fuck is the teacher giving me a lecture? Have you not interacted with anyone or what? Why are you sitting alone? Join these two girls now. I swear to God I already have a teacher I hate. While I was creating holes in his body with my eyes, his words brought me out of my daydreaming revenge,"We want freshers to be part of decorating our department this year", and I need a group and names in the next 5 minutes. I swear to God I was not planning on doing it, but Jennifer asked me to join her, and a few persuading from girls beside me made me give my name to them.

If somebody had told me how much of a hassle it was going to be, I would not have given my name at all. But hey, I got an easy job. Painting something I love, and my pair was a girl named Perisa, and boy, she talks a lot for sure. I think we should just paint this with red. She looked at me for acceptance. And I just nodded. That's how our conversation was going. She was a talker, and I was a nodder. I can't go home and just sleep. The next day, apparently we have to sign up to create a college student profile. And I was stuck. Guess who just helped me? That handsome boy. He is helpful too. Just click on it, and boom, your profile is up. All I could do was stare; he looks a lot prettier up close. After I was done, thankfully by his help, I tried to talk to him and ask his name, but I guess he didn't hear me. But it's not like I'm going to be talking to him every now and then, so whatever... I was wrong, because tell me why the fuck is handsome boy Wait, Jungkook is beside me helping our seniors with craft. His voice sounds very good even from up close. And Jungkook laughs nicely. The second-to-last day, I got to know his name; I'm very proud of myself! And it got easier now to interact; we walked together till the bus stop. Exchanged our Insta, and now we go home and stalk. Nope, no stalking; he has nothing up on his profile at all, just his profile picture. He is a boxer? Damn!

Next day/last day of decoration

 Why the fuck did I think he was pretty? He is annoying as hell! Like I didn't expect us to banter like this. He is lazytoo! !Like ew, tf, ,fno.o 

And done!!! Teachers were proud of my painting. And I can't wait to go home and sleep, and I can hear Perisa saying, Yes, we are up for a stall. What stall are we?? We as who?? And I was brought back to my reality. Apparently, Jungkook wants to put up a gaming stall for the upcoming college program, and all the group members said yes to it. Fuck! 

Program day

Our stall was doing good, and I think we are going to get some money, all thanks to Jungkook. Group mates are getting closer now; I now know everyone's name! Perisa, the talkative extrovert, Jennifer, Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung,jhope,and Tina! Proud of myself.

Jungkook is still as annoying but now bearable. He has a pretty smile, smells good, and is kind too, so... 

A few hours later

While I was busy arranging our game, Jungkook called me over; he wanted to take a picture of my eyes, and I had to look up, and boy, he is tall. Very tall.

Taking pictures was never this fun until it was time for group pictures at the end of the day and he was beside me. Perfect height gap, but he is still annoying. That day I went home with a teddy bear, which he gave to me, which he won and gave to me after I asked. Red Teddy!

A few weeks later

After the success of our stall, we didn't have time to go and celebrate, and today was the day we did so. I wore an orange bodycon, my makeup was on point, and my bangs were pretty. I was confident till I saw him, because why the fuck am I nervous?The group decided to go karaoke, and boy, I realized he is still annoying! He is singing off-key knowingly. All I did in that karaoke room was slap his hand away from the microphone.Eating in a restaurant was very hard; we kept on looking at each other, and I kept on being reminded of my dream (wet dream about this very man). Way back home, we were back to our banter, because why the fuck was this man asking a dog to bite me? The dog was too loyal for me, as I had just fed him biscuits, but wtf.

Ended a day looking at a group photo of us, with him again beside me.

A few weeks later

College reopened, and we all got close. I was starting to see Jungkook in a different light, and before it grew, I had to do something, so I ignored him. It was going all good till he approached me. "Hey y/n everything good? And I folded very badly, and there was no going back, and I hated it.

Jungkook is everything that was opposite of my type, or that's what I thought. He smokes, does drugs, has a tag of playboy already, sort of has a gangsta group personality, and is just too much, but what can I do?

January 2024

Group decided to go to the amusement park. Something I was very excited about. Dressing up in a cute crop top with flare pants and good makeup, I was good to go! It was all exciting till I was in a ferris wheel with him; why is this hulk of a man scared of heights? Now I wish I had pulled something else while pulling a card so that I didn't have to be with him in this close space together. 

Feelings are growing a lot more, and I fear he can hear my heartbeat from his seat opposite from me. I doubt I have hidden my feelings for him very well. I'm sure everyone knows by now, and that was scary. My thoughts were cut off. Can you please play the weekend song he spoke of? And there I was, wrapped around his finger, taking my phone out and playing the songs he requested, not caring how speedy this ride was, and one slip and my phone will break down. Shit, y/n, I shouldn't have come here; this ride is scary. What if I die? God help me; Jesus help me. Jungkook was turning red, and I was getting much more worried. Hey, hey, look at the side; nothing will happen. I was trying to distract his mind as much as I could; I just wished he knew I would not let anything happen to him ever. The whole ride I was holding his hand,, making sure to let him knowwhattwouldld happen until he asked me to lego.oDidid I cross boundary?rWasWas aI coulduld think of.

Once again, for the group photo, he again stood beside me.

February 

My sister was getting married today, and no matter how much we fought, I was going to miss her. My friends were all here, and I was very grateful he was here. I fell hard for him today for sure. While playing a few games, we ended up beside each other, and when he noticed I was on the verge of crying, he was cracking a few jokes to lift me. God, help! I'm falling more. And there was one person paying close attention to us, my bestie Sam. I got a message with our group photo, and I realized he was once again beside me. 

1 week later

Sam couldn't stop but keep on talking about how she thinks he likes me too, how she couldn't help but notice how he was looking out for me. And I wished he fell for me too. That day was too good till I saw a jerk ass jerking in a parking lot of the place I was parking my scooter at. Did that shake my head yes, and did I have to rant? Yes. I ended up ranting to him in a text; he told me how I shouldn't go to these places alone and he will go with me next time. Maybe he was being kind, but shit, I fell much more.

Next day

Jungkook was the first person to arrive in the classroom. Very shocking knowing he has this very good streak of coming to college very late or after college song. 

While I was minding my business, Jungkook was looking out for me; knowing how disturbed I was, he was trying to lift my mood up a lot. While I was doodling something, he would come to me and say, "Why won't you draw a sketch of mine? Or when I couldn't focus and act out my lines for the drama we were planning to act out on this very upcoming social service college trip of ours, he was trying to make me laugh by acting my lines goofily and kept on looking at me till I cracked a smile. I fell very hard. Then I didn't hide it anymore, I guess. I was openly flirting with him. We started sharing a Netflix account. Actually, my Netflix account. I started giving him chocolates. A day before the trip, we worked together on a project that I had to submit side by side. My testosterone level is so high nowadays. Jungkook said it out of nowhere. I just looked at him weirdly and went back to work.

1 week later/day of hike

On our hiking trip, girls were mad at boys for ignoring our existence completely.The whole trip we barely talked. It felt like we were not friends. I was very disappointed at Jungkook for the way he was acting this trip. Last day before we leave this community and leave for a hike, I called Jimin to have a chat. Hey, Jimin, can we talk? Jimin was a bit baffled but joined me. Sure,  is there any issue? Um, yes, actually we are a bit mad about how we felt left out and how you guys are ignoring our existence. You guys didn't even ask if we wanted to have alcohol. You guys wanna have it? Jimin was confused himself. Yes, I thought Lyam told you that; I remember telling him yesterday. And he was even more confused; no, he didn't, but you guys should have told me about it. I was even more confused because I remember telling Lyam about it; he even said he would deliver the news to the boys, but whatever. I gave him a smile; actually, I called you to say we will give money so that you can buy alcohol for us too tomorrow on our way. Jimin nodded and gave a smile back. We bid our goodbye. And I went to the girls to tell them about the arrangement.  

Next day

The day when everything went downhill, on our way to hiking, the girls planned to buy drinks for themselves. They were still mad, and I was left there wondering about our arrangement with boys. Weirdly, Jungkook came to talk to us after he knew about our drink; after all,, he was the one who taught us how to mix it properly with juice. Girls decided to ignore them all the way tothe top. top. Jimincome come to utalk, talk, and when I talked t Perisa, Jennifer,Jennifer, and Tina got mad at me and said how I should just be with them if I want tbad. On ourt bad. On ourthe hotel,bJimino the hotelup.HeyJi, rememb how youy, , rememb howwanted tosaid you guys wanted to have a drink too? So I needed money for that. I was already tipsy frI hade amount of drink I had on our hikiPerisa I just told him Perisa has already bougha bittconfused. And I was areaction;used about Jungkookaction; I tho...ht Jungkook told them shurting,t since my head was hurting, I just was trying and lett away with this ca bito and let it be.You guys was a bit confused, huh? You guysa proud All I could do leave. d with a proud smile an"Hey, t leave.here.n cwentled me again, "Heso youn come here. I went tit.eWhatfused, sobring?uHowalready bought it. bring?dAndu brings blank. ch did you gmoney,ring? have I was s blato give.t Umm,e money, know exactly,no answers to give. "Umm, I don'tbrands exactly, On our I think theythe hotel,hJiminocal brandsup.Heynd, remembwhow youck to the hotelwanted toin called me up.Hey, , rememb how you said you guys wanted to have a drink too? So I needed I had for that. I was already tipsy fromPerisamount of drink I had on our hiking. So I a bittconfusedim Perisa hasreaction;bought it fJungkooknd I was a bi...confused about their rehurting, I thought Jungkook told them so... but since mand letd was hurting, I ja bit was trying to gYou guysy with this convo and let it be. Ja proudwas a bit confusleave. h? You guys did? All I "Hey,  do was here.ithwent proud smile and so you leave. Jimin called it.aWhat, "Hey, /bring? Howe. I went there conbring?sAndou guyss blank.  bought it. money,did yohavering? How mutodgive.u Umm,s bring? knowdexactly,s blank. I just gave money, so I brandsno answers to give. "Umm, I don't know exactly, but I think they bought 4 local brands and left.

A few hours later

When we reached the hotel, we were not tipsy at all. And all of a sudden my feelings for Jungkook became a topic. I was just chilling when Perisa started saying Y/n didn't actually have feelings for Jungkook, but after he showed his red flags, she started to fall for him. Tina and Jennifer were just laughing, then Perisa spoke again, "But Y/N I think Jungkook is just being kind to you because you are friends, so you should really tone down the things, and while I was sinking the information, a sound of a bottle dropping came. .

Reaching down it turns out one of our friend dropped his bottle of beer on his way up, till lunch time we were trying to solve the issue, after lunch we all gathered together to understand what happened so jimin told us the story 

Jimin pov

After y/n told me about girls buying there own alcohol I was bit surprised so I told boys. Lyam decided it will be better if we buy it in a hotel we are planning to stay in. Reaching hotel our plan started, one of our friend mingyu told us that he will manage it, "You guys chill and just let me take a shower, I will manage the drink after that" But after 10 minutes got a message from lyam that we need to go out and get it, and on our way back to room our botel dropped and teacher caught us. Mingyu was mad but we were confused that when he revealed something shocking, "his bathroom was locked from outside and lyam shares his room. By the time I was done telling the story, girls had a same reaction as we did.

End of pov

Y/n pov

Isn't it funny how lyam is not here? Jackson one of our friend with whom we got close with on our trip spoke, mingyu was quick to cut him off, let's not play this blaming game and fix the issue. All this time jungkook kept on looking at him,but not a good look and I shrugged it off. Jackson was panicking now, guys I can't get suspended, my parents will kill me. He was very much in a verge of crying and I couldn't help but wonder where taehung was. Not only Jackson,it was jimin and taehung too. After Jackson got caught they were just entering and they were caught too. And turns out it was lyam who messaged them so it was getting bit fishy. 

10:00 pm

We were having fun when jimin joined us, everything was going fine. We were actually laughing but jungkook and taehung joined us too. Jungkook was beside me but we barely talked. I was already drunk by then. Jennifer was worried about lyam so she went to check up on then and then everything turned upside down.

Jennifer entered the room, hey so what did lyam say is everything good? I asked her. Jennifer looked at me with burning eyes and brust out" HE SAID IT ALL HAPPENED BECAUSE OF YOU! WHY DID YOU REPLY THEM BADLY? I was baffled and shocked and jimin joined her but lightly, yes man,why did you reply to us so lightly, you should have gave us the proper answer. And all I could think was,so that how it's turning out? I didn't care about their opinion but jungkook's, so I turned towards him.and asked, do u also think its because of me? Huh? and he bursted on me , "what do u want me to say can't you just shut up? And that's all I needed to go and lay in my bed.

 

Next day

I woke up with a very bad hangover, but everything that happened yesterday sinked in. Seeing perisa sleeping beside me I stood up and went to shower and my tears mixed with the water coming from shower head.

Everything was awkward, jungkook and I couldn't look at eachother anymore. And it suck and what sucked the most was perisa opening her mouth while I was packing my bag. So it's weird between you two? It took me a while to connect the dot,and I understood she was talking about me and jungkook. I looked at and replied to her softly, yeah i mean kind of and im planning to fix the issue between us ,i gave her a tight smile,tears on a verge of falling down and she spoke again,actually he knows and i was confused so she continued yesterday we went to their room after you fell alseep and he was annoyed about you getting mad and leaving to sleep. So when jimin told him that's because you like him and he replied he knows. 

This new information was a bit shocking but what was more nerve wrecking was how open those feelings of mine were that everyone knew. Then i felt this anger about everyone discussing my feelings without me. I looked at perisa and replied I will maintain my distance so don't worry. 

I failed very badly, cause when he got into a fight with another group I was standing infront of him standing as a shield and protecting him. And that's when I realised how I revealed my feelings infront of everyone. That was the very first night I cried for him.

Few weeks later

Group fell apart, teacher snitched, boy got punished with library hours for 15 days and I was blamed. Me,Tina and perisa were in one group,others in different. Once a group with very strong bond turned to two groups who held petty feelings for eachother very quickly. 

I tried to talk to everyone specifically to him, I still remember when he left me in front of everyone while I called him over,

Hey jungkook, can we talk? He just nodded umm actually it was about netflix do you have another account or should I purchase?, no need I already got one he replied very coldly, or then can I get a password? I was hopeful but all went down when he just left 

It got worse after that, it felt like he hated me now. Like if I was alone with him,he will actually kill me and all that vengeance towards me caused I had a feelings for him?Getting ignored by him for few more weeks finally knocked some sense to and I knew what I should do to stand on my ground.

May 2024

After summer break I was done crying over him. I thought I hated him alot.. I barely walked to the same direction as him. But habits never go away, I always was helping him,he needs water knowing he won't drink it if I give it to him, I passed the water bottle till it reached him, he has no pen? Let's pass my extra pen to him. It went like that but I never talked to him even while doing this.I think he felt it too cause now it was another way around. He was trying to make a conversation. Trying to talk to me. Looking at my direction when he does something. One incident was when i went back to our classroom cause i forgot something and I saw him, funny thing man did a whole turning around to look at me. Or when i caughf him in a sick room checking upon me cause i left classroom cause i was not feeling good or catching him going to whole another room and staring at me.And it all just degraded my image more. Rumors started to fly again.

 

July2024

College was holding a Mr and Mrs freshers. Perisa and Tina were participants along side with jungkook. I was there with perisa and Tina during their practice. Catching jungkook looking at my direction was something normal to me now but I didn't expect him to actually come and sit beside me and talk. Hey, do u have that fan of yours? All I did was nod, can I have it? Without any intention of talking I gave it you him. I thought he will leave but he didn't, judgemental eyes of people were getting too much so I left him there.

Y/N said she wishes we don't win the title along side with jungkook. Perisa said it Tina. When tina came to me to talk about it I felt betrayed once again. I wonder what made it perisa spread rumors like that... but I couldn't confront her. Fear of being friendless was scary.  

His actions became more constant towards me. Looking at me every now and then made me wonder if it was his new hobby or job. Trying to talk to me also became constant, my walks were breaking down when one evening while having lunch tina said "y/n really is someone with no self respect" and I froze. Once again no confrontation. Hatred towards him and romantic feelings I had towards jungkook had a very thin line. I used to hate him during days but cry because of longing I had for him at night. And I couldn't stand him anymore now. His actions towards me made me think maybe he is falling for me,but him getting touchy with someone new and dating her infront of me made me think delusional I gotta be again. 

Till the very last day I didn't talk to him. News about him trying for abroad was spreading. I still remember praying to God when I found out it was his interview day. He nailed it. After that my only goal was to talk to him and say goodbye just one goodbye I didn't have guts to do so. 

August 2024

Semester break started and that's when I got the news about his visa getting approved from namjoon. A very good friend of mine after that service camp. When he told me about it i was relieved but one day it just hit me and I was there,crying my eyes put cause I missed him. I missed him alot more each and every day. Then the day he had to fly came. I remember going towards airport to see him atkeast one last time,but left before I could do so. I wish I could talk to him one last time. Ask him if he can stay a little longer with me for awhile let all these frustrating feelings of mine to him.

It's been 2 months since he left and longing I feel for him is just getting much bad. Crying for him is now a everyday routine. I wanna message him but he is in another country now. And its not like I can tie his leg down just cause I fell too deep down to the ocean.

[4dmc]

I'm no longer anticipating the April release of Adi Shankar's Devil May Cry anime on Netflix

I was, until I learned he was personally invited in the inauguration for Trump just this January 2025

Perhaps there's more to him than just this moment. But I'm no insider and any developments that may occur I'm going to have to adapt to them as they come by

I know the media entertainment we consume comes from a very exploitative and imperfect system. I try to find out who these people are and how we, both creators and audience alike, navigate such a system with our art & enjoyment of them

It's not foolproof... i mean we just came out of Neil Gaiman's very horrific case. We can never really be certain who is who until some truth comes out to light.

In Shankar's case he just did it on his own. With his frigging Glass Onion lil "disruptor" poser bs, claiming being "subversive" & appropriating it simultaneously.

photos of him with a right wing foreign minister (?) from India, inside the White House and a video of himself in a Liberty Ball

That being said because the franchise of Devil May Cry is part of my blog/account and unfortunately I do post fan art content about it, specifically the reboot version, I do feel responsible in being an extension because I have previous posts being happy for the anime, for Shankar and more...

So just to let anyone know, I'm just not gonna be onto the netflix anime, and probably not be involved as much in the next few months

I have one February/Valentine's themed fan art post coming up but afterwards you're not gonna be hearing a lot from me especially the netflix anime of DMC, but likely nothing about the reboot DmC fan posts as well

I guess to haters of DmC that's probably very comforting for you to know lol

But I wish there's a little more "Stand Your Ground" punk attitude in the dmc fandom overall

Why aren't we calling out Adi Shankar? Why aren't we criticizing this direction for Devil May Cry? And no, I'm not talking about any stylistic choice, hair color, Limp Bizkit, etc

I'm speaking about why we aren't holding these companies accountable or at least cheer for an actual punk artist creator to helm this franchise/anime?

I do understand that fandom in general are regular folk & we are all tired & have lives that need constant attention. Consuming entertainment art does overlap with escapism

But all art forms aren't just consumed for one's escapism. Because if you really do believe in the artistic essence of Devil May Cry, we really should've pushed to have this franchise break its own glass ceiling, maybe a long time ago now..

I do apologise that this is no longer just a rant and probably is preaching. But I do hope some people will give it a think.

I also don't really hold it against you if you are still about to watch the anime.

To burden fans/audience to be always the idealized critic or an all-knowing person is simply impossible, nor is it always a reflection of who they are or what they believe

I do believe that fans/audience deserve to be well aware and to have integrity, and to understand that it does suck, it sucks media has become this way, but it doesn't mean we have to constantly blame one another

As final words that echo the general sentiment many of fellow ex-Gaiman fans, and perhaps in extension to being former fans of once-beloved creators...

Great art has been done and will be done by the most horrific people. But that doesn't mean we're blinded by their art. We ought to see them as people. And as people they too have a lot to answer for

[billybabearr]

Some BillyBabe fanfic-writing advice needed ⊂⁠(⁠(⁠・⁠▽⁠・⁠)⁠)⁠⊃

So I fell madly in love with the Thai BL 'The Sign'. So much so that it had a horde of plot bunnies run wild in my head.

It gave me so much inspiration that I decided to just start writing again, which makes me unbelievably happy because I definitely forgot how much I enjoyed it.

My story is a RPF about the cast of the show, specifically Babe and Billy, because I just love their relationship (other cast members are featured as well, primarily Heng and Akk).

I don't have a good summary yet, but it's roughly this:

Babe Tanatat never anticipated how much his life would change the moment he stepped onto the set of 'The Sign'. He finds incredible new friends among his co-stars, experiences things he never imagined he would and gets to be part of something truly special.

But every success has it's downsides. From mishaps to accidents to sheer bad luck, everything that can go wrong does.

And if that doesn't make his life complicated enough, Babe finds himself grappling with some unexpected yet very confusing feelings for one particular coworker.

Babe has no idea how he got himself into this mess, nor how he can get out of it.

(Seriously, trying to come up with a half-decent summary is way harder than any writing I've done so far. But I guess coming up with a title will be worse 🫠)

In my story I'm following the episodes, going through them one at a time, picking out scenes that have the potential to go wrong / be funny / etc.. I'm also using the bts-material, as well stuff they said in interviews or offhand comments in their reaction videos (I'm a sucker for details, if you can't tell 😆)

Also, it might have gotten a little out of hand. I've already written around 130k words (not edited or in the correct order, but still), before I decided it might be nice to publish it. And I'm not even halfway through the list of stuff I want for each episode.

And yes, I actually made a list. A (not so) little file for each episode, detailing what scenes and prompts I want there with bullet points for the actual plot. So basically I already have a rough concept/script, but with enough space in between for new ideas.

Since this will be the first time I ever upload a story (on AO3), I'd like to get some opinions on it first.

What do you think about the overall idea? Is it something you might be interested in?

What tense do you prefer while reading - present or past?

What is your preferred chapter length (especially in longer stories)?

What do you think about pictures at the beginning of a chapter? Since I'm following the episodes/bts, there will almost always be a specific scene tied to each chapter. I'm playing with the idea of adding a picture/gif at the start of these. For easy reference where in the storyline we are (or just because they're all cute (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)). Is that something you'd enjoy? Or do you find it more disruptive/annoying?

And I'm always open to new prompts or plot ideas (tied to specific scenes or not).

I hope some of you can share your thoughts, since I'm a complete newbie to publishing stuff. Any other tips and tricks are always greatly appreciated as well 🤗

Have a good one!

(+ I promise my actual writing is better than whatever weird rant this is. Never done a blog post either, and I'm guessing it shows 😂)

[zablife]

Drinks with Polly in the Parlor

Requested by @notyour-valentine for my 2K celebration An Evening at Arrow House. Warning: This is a dark fic 💀

"Would you care for a glass of champagne, Aunt Polly?" you asked sweetly. You wanted to impress your husband's aunt with your hospitality, but you needed a glass of liquid courage yourself after being left alone with the imposing Shelby matriarch. The silence which had already grown between you was terrifying and made you feel like a failure.

She turned from the mirror where she was checking her crimson lipstick, one perfectly manicured eyebrow arched in your direction as she replied coldly, "Champagne is for celebrations, my dear. I'm afraid a toast seems woefully late considering your nuptials took place weeks ago. Wouldn't you agree?"

You could only blink in shock. It was true you and Tommy had eloped without a single family member present to witness your vows, but he assured you it was the done thing. This was his third marriage after all and you agreed a lavish affair would be inappropriate, especially given the fact that he divorced his second wife less than a year ago. Surely Polly understood all this? Then again, the withering glance she gave, proved otherwise.

"I'm sorry if we've offended you..." you began.

Polly waved off your apology before you could finish, crossing to the bar to pour her own drink. Like Tommy she preferred Irish whisky, neat and she sipped it slowly as she looked you up and down carefully. A small smile began to form on her lips as she noticed the abundance of diamonds caressing your delicate neck.

"It's not you or I who should be apologizing. My nephew can be a careless man," she hummed, smile quickly fading as she stared at her own reflection once more, seeing something which obviously displeased her. "I always thought he favored his mother, but he is so like his father at times the way he treats the women in this family."

"Excuse me?" you asked, twisting your fingers and wondering what could be keeping Tommy. You were beginning to feel uncomfortable with the turn in conversation.

She chuckled darkly as she stopped in front of you, her hazel eyes dancing with a manic energy that made your stomach drop in anticipation of her next words. "I died for him once. Did you know that?"

You swallowed thickly and shook your head, fingers now clutching the cool metal at your throat as if it might make your husband appear more quickly to save you.

"It's alright, I escaped the noose," she assured you, lowering the volume of her voice to that relegated for the telling of secrets. "Climbed through it like a window to the other side. And I found you can do anything you want cause there are no rules, cause there are no risks. When you’re dead already, you’re free," she whispered as though she was imparting wisdom you might find useful one day.

"He did me a favor really," she mused. "Now I'm the one protecting this family because I'm the only one who can see it all clearly. My second sight keeps us safe, you know." However, you only heard the rantings of a madwoman and your body began to tremble involuntarily.

"Oh, darling. You're shaking," she noted, reaching a hand out to steady you. Her fingers grasped your forearm, nails digging in like talons, and anchoring you to the spot. With saccharine sweetness she cooed, "That's a beautiful necklace," drawing out the vowels in beautiful until it sounded like a taunt. "What does a woman like you have to do to earn a bauble like that?"

"T-tommy chose it on our honeymoon because he loves me," you stuttered, eyes searching hers for a sign she would release you from this trap you'd unwittingly fallen into.

"Diamonds," she said reverentially. "Goodness, you are special then, aren't you?" she couldn't help but add sarcastically.

"I should hope so," you answered in a defiant tone you could no longer hold back given her blatant disrespect.

Her hand slipped from you and you took two steps backward as she smirked. "You know it was sapphires for Grace. They represent wealth and abundance so that suited her I suppose. Rubies for Lizzie, all vitality and passion. But here you stand wearing diamonds," she pronounced.

Feeling the clasp of the necklace dig into your skin in the same painful way Polly's nails had clawed against your arm, your irritation grew. "And what does that mean?" you demanded. Your unease caused the gems to weigh down upon you like bricks. You tried to inhale deeply, but found it difficult to draw breath.

"Some say eternity," she answered in amusement before turning her concentration to your neck. A cackle erupted from her lips as though the idea of your union was a complete joke. Your anger mounted along with the suffocating feeling, closing your throat so you couldn't scream or reply.

"Others say invincibility," she added. "But that's not what you two have. I can see it in the air around you. I know what you are," she proclaimed, eyes narrowing at you hatefully. She closed her fists tightly by her side, knuckles white from the force. And that's when you felt the crushing grip at your windpipe. You fell to your knees, hands flying to your throat, ripping at the necklace or whatever phantom force seemed to be cutting off your air supply. As you rocked back and forth spluttering and choking, Polly stood over you triumphantly.

-----------

When Tommy came looking for you in the parlor, Polly sat sipping her whisky calmly on the sofa. His eyes immediately darted to your tear stained face as he heard your hiccuped sobs coming fast between uneven breaths. "Y/n?" he called to you in panic, crossing the room in quick strides before Polly held up a hand for him to stop.

"She has something to say, Tommy," she announced, looking to you expectantly.

Tommy furrowed his brow in confusion as his foot came to rest over something small and hard. Stooping to retrieve the object, the hurt became evident on his face as he surveyed the floor where your beautiful necklace lay in ruins, a constellation of diamonds cast over the carpet.

As the jewel winked up at him, he looked from his palm and back to you as you stood, wobbling slightly from lightheadedness. "I've made a terrible mistake," you sobbed, brushing past him and running from the room with the urgency of someone fleeing their own execution.

Before he could turn to follow, Polly's eyes flicked up to Tommy's, holding him motionless within her hypnotic gaze as she promised answers. "Perhaps now she'll tell you what she really wanted here because it was never you, my boy."

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