#wanted to reblog a post and not make my own cause again I’m not as educated as I should be

[rosicheeks]

🎉

[abbyromanoff]

hey babes 😏😏😏

LIKE MOB BOSSES CAROL AND VALKYRIE?! I HAVENT SEEN THE MARVELS HUT IM SEEING IT TOMORROW AND IM SO EXCITED BUT YEH AND MAYBE LIKE SOME JEALOUSY AND LIKE 😏😏😏 PUNISHMENTS AND SHIT

DOUBLE TROUBLE

PAIRINGS: CarolValkryie x reader

WORD COUNT: 679

WARNINGS: smut, double penetration, degrading, punishment, slapping, edging, overstimulation, threesomes, that’s abt it :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Reminder that this will be my last ever smut post!! Going forward I will not be writing smut so I apologize for those who did not get their asks answered

“No, I- I can’t,” You mumbled weakly, too tired to fight off the women surrounding you. Valkyrie was behind, her tip teasing the entrance of your tightest hole while Carol continued to slide in and out of your cunt. Her strap would rub her clit perfectly to cause just the right amount of friction, and her moans blended in with yours.

“Yes, you can, and you will.” Valkyrie groaned, seemingly tired of the ‘attitude’ you had been throwing towards both of them. Valkyrie wasn’t able to visit you and your girlfriend often, only when it was serious, and Carol had decided it was one of those times. You were nearing your period, and your hormones were spiraling like usual. Although, it was also the Holiday’s, and you had been missing both women, so you were in a worse mood than they could’ve expected.

“Look at that, baby, you’re taking Captain's cock so well,” You sniffled quietly, and they had to stifle a chuckle at your weakened expression.

“Don’t praise this little slut. They’ve been so, so naughty, it’s only fair we give them what they’ve been asking for.” Although it wasn’t at all what you were asking for. You wanted to be with the two women, between the two in a similar position as to how you are now. But you wanted to hear their soft praises on the shell of your ear. You wanted to feel their lips slowly moving down your neck and body. You wanted their hands to lovingly slide across your breasts, unlike the way they were groping you currently. You wanted to cum on their tongues, their fingers, their cocks; whatever it was they could give you. But you wanted them more than anything, and if this is what they were giving you, you wouldn’t dare to complain.

“Fuck, I’m already halfway, baby. You think you can take the rest of me, hm? You think this tight fucking ass can take Daddy’s cock?” You sniffled but lacked a response, causing a slap to arrive across your cheek. You whimpered, but quickly nodded without a thought, your mind barely registering what she asked.

“This must feel so fucking good, huh, darlin’? Having two cocks just destroying your holes, giving you no room to protest. This messy cunt seems to be betraying you when you say you don’t want this, little one.” Carol muttered close to your lips, quickly leaning down to take your bottom lip in her mouth as she bit down slightly, causing you to hiss in further pain. You didn’t know how much longer you could take, but you hoped they’d give in soon.

“C’mon, I know you want to cum for us,” She spoke once again, and you heard Valkyrie let out a deep groan as your skin touched the base of her strap. You shuttered, feeling both women deeper than ever before inside of you, the only hole left to fill was your mouth.

“Shh, just open, pretty girl.” You didn’t entirely understand what they meant, so you opened the barrier of your lips and spread your legs even further, both mumbling dirty praises in response. You felt two fingers thrusting into your mouth soon after, opening your eyes to see an arm from behind wrapping around to visit the said area. Her knuckles pressed against the sides of your cheeks, and you gagged as she forced herself impossibly deeper.

“I think this little slut likes having their holes filled, ‘cause they’re making a fucking mess.” You led your eyes down, quickly shutting them in shame as you admired the wetness leaking from you. You had never been this turned on, what were they doing to you?

“P’ease, Captain; please, D-daddy, let me cum f’ you.” In an instant you felt the two stilling inside of you, and it seemed they had wordlessly matched their arrivals as their moans seemed to bounce off each vibranium wall. This only brought you closer, and the dirty scent of sex filling the room only brought you further arousal.

“Cum for us, you dirty slut,”

[cryptfile]

☆ Loveseat, [ Carmen Berzatto AU ]

SUMMARY — After being in a relationship with Carmen, you cannot help but being extra judgemental when it comes to food.

WARNINGS — i’m currently rotting in hell, meaning: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, +18 content, there’s a lot of, cursing, choking, praising, dirty talking, mentions of food and eating, hair pulling, fingering.

SIDE NOTES — This is my first post here, so hope you guys like it. English’s not my first language so if there's any mistakes in advance, i’m sorry. Please interact if you like this, reblogs, comments, likes, all means a lot to me! I’ll leave my inbox open so you can suggest more characters! This takes place in an alternative timeline for own my liking, enjoy! x

Lately, Carmen Berzatto was not sure how he managed to get you.

To be completely honest, most of his friends seemed to wonder how he managed to pull the tattooer that adorned his hands with cool designs being that shy, however, when you started texting him photos of your daily food stating it was complete bullshit — He knew he had you in for a long time.

He would explain himself it was something casual at first. A few texts every now and then, swimming between a wave of bad jokes and tension he was sure he was imaging as he read through the texts you send at least twice, then, he would know he’d win you over with food.

Maybe that’s when you became so judgemental at first, after trying the lasagna he made for you after being so tired from working all day long, something else just snapped, even when he was done being near the fire, not even wanting to look at a plate ever again: He managed to spoil you with something good to eat anyways, making you moan in pure pleasure after craving some good food all day.

Of course it was important, can you even blame him?

He was not very vocal about it, hell, it was hard for him to even admit it even after being with you almost six months, but he loved the way you reacted to all his stuff. Even if it was something simple like scrambled eggs or regular pasta with plain butter, it was the way you groaned and grab the spoon licking the silverware clean, showering him with praises after when he was so used to be miserable in the kitchen.

“Open up,” he says before feeding you with the spoon. It was one of those nights where he was trying new stuff at your place, keeping you up till late seated on the kitchen counter close to him as he cooked, opening your mouth just to give an allegedly meaningful critique. “Any thoughts? Feedback?”

It was a wild ride for sure. A turbulent one as you closed your eyes all suddenly, the image burnt on the back of his head when you groaned savoring the taste like it was something else.

“Dunno,” you admit later on, trying to think on anything bad to say — “Need to have another bite before giving an honest answer.”

He smirks in response, repeating the same action just to hear you speak again. Being with you was something similar as his cigarette breaks, escaping from all the stress he usually gets in his life.

Silence again.

“Well fuck, you have me here. Maybe needs some more salt,” you think out loud. Almost trying to say something bad out of force as you knew he wouldn’t stop until he got an brutally honest answer. “The combinations of flavors though is really breathtaking, you outdone yourself this time. Could tattoo this risotto on me, no questions asked.”

Salt? He takes a bite himself almost immediately.

“It doesn’t need any more salt” he replies furrowing his brows in response. “We’ve talked about this sweetheart…”

“You wanted me to be a critique,” you admit almost offended, letting out a light chuckle before stealing the spoon from his hand in one swift movement. “I'm, being indeed, sincere here."

God. It was those moments that made him catch his breath, how the minutes passed slower and everything else seemed to blurry around the two of you. He cannot deny it, cause he loves the snarky responses, the way your mouth wraps around the spoon in a way that made him so devastated at the sight, head spinin’ with the thought of the things he already did to you, the memories that he seems to cherish so deeply.

He cannot stop either when his fingers toy with your hair, the strains sliding smoothly through his fingers. You seemed to enjoy it too, cause it's all it takes to make you forget about the food, leaning into his touch.

"Since when you became my main critique, hm?” he asks, placing himself between your tights as he invaded your space with nothing but pure confidence in his cooking skills. He knew for a fact, it didn't need any more salt. "Made you so spoiled you are a new expert here, baby?"

“Well, it’s your fault anyway" you defend yourself, narrowing your eyes at his words. "You're the one who spoils me rotten, always feeding me nice tasty stuff, keeping me up till’ late trying new things. I’m what you taught me to be, cannot blame for being a good critique. It is what it is."

"So you're blaming me for being a caring partner?" he cannot hold the laugh back, pulling on your hair almost enough to make you look at him. “S’that what you’re implying here?” 

“Would never even dare to” you admit all innocence bitting the inside of your cheek, and Carmen swears you’re doing it just to get in his brain, to control every action in that twisted brain of yours, and he cannot stop himself to fall every time, pulling on your hair slightly rougher this time as he towers over you. “Just implying that you’ll ruin food for me forever if we keep this up.” 

“Not seeing what’s the problem with that” he simply replies as he stared at your expression, how the simple act of your head tilted backwards made his blood boil, the exposed skin of your neck pulling him like the polar opposite of a magnet as he looks down at you — “Don’t really care.”

He’s clearly enjoying that. The sudden proximity as his left hand travels through your side, gripping onto your tight as he gives a light squeeze, tracing invisible patterns against your warm skin that contrasts so much to the chef’s usual cold hands. 

He cannot possibly have enough of you as you melt into his touch, in the very edge of turning into a mad man as he grabs a fistful of your hair to pull you in a demanding kiss, tongue-tracing over your lower lip, almost asking for a formal invitation to finally invade you, his breathing colliding against your skin, holding you in place as he suffers from a burst of pure adrenaline. 

His hands betray him in no time, drawn by the sounds you make when he’s nibbling on that nice curve on your neck, allowing his hand to glide over your soft skin just to end up in your inner tights, fingertips just barely touching as he just watches over you, the sight of you being just enough, that nice smell on your skin when he kisses your neck, your perfume being all around him… it’s getting to him.

He quickly becomes all so vocal, when he’s finally reaching the fabric of your shorts and his touch leaves a burnt sensation behind, the sound of his voice echoing in your ears.

“Gonna’ ruin it f’ya, baby” he says in a low voice — “Looking s’hot all bothered already just for a few kisses, cannot help but spoil m’girl.” 

Of course he fucking loves it. He loves how he knows exactly how to make a mess out of you, touching just the right places, concentrated in your pleasure as he drags the velvety fabric of your shorts to the side, making you crave the touch of his fingertips before finally slide them beneath the fabric of your underwear, lips parted as he finally touches your entrance, taking his time with you.

“God, you’re so wet f’me already, so damn warm” he says in a low whisper, making you talk in between your erratic breathing words that don’t seem to mean anything.

It’s so good. The frantic feeling washing over him as his fingers move in circles over your clit, the almost unnoticible wet sounds filling the air of the kitchen as he places soft kisses in that very spot where your shoulder meet the curvature of your neck. He just knows exactly what he’s doing. How to get under your skin, how to make you run out of breath, and he simply grew attached to it, to the way your skin feels so smooth against his fingers and you act up minutes before beggin’ for more.

And when he finally buries two digits in your cunt — God fucking damn.

He cannot keep the facade, blue eyes drinking the sight of you in as you moan, hips moving against his palm watching how his fingers dissapeared in you, pumping slowly at first, enjoying the way your walls wraps around his fingers, the words that came out of your opened mouth in pure desperation.

“Bear,” you would say in an unsteady breathing “O-oh fuck yes, yes baby, please don’t stop, please-”

The hand who pulled your hair before now tightens around your throat, and he can see you smiling like you’re in fucking paradise before he presses against that nice spot in the side of her neck, cutting the suministration of air to your lungs slightly. Always so eager, making him try new things together even when he was used to an relatively calm, almost non-existant sex life when all his focus was on the restaurant, insisting on trying new things that he end up loving.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me, taking me so s’good” he praises you for a moment, obliging you to look at him when he talks “Lettin’ my fingers fill you up like this, a mess already.”

“That’s it baby, move those pretty hips, need you to keep fuckin’ y’self.”

Lewd sounds, his tight grip on your neck, your hips arching to find that perfect place for him to hit and it’s all it takes for the chef to bring you closer and closer to the edge, fingers curling inside your soaked cunt, moaned sentences that in his ear are only adding up fuel to keep flexing his muscles for you, to keep on stimulating you.

“Gonna cum,” you let him know, but he’s quickly shaking his head in disapproval — “Carm, please, need to-”

“You can hold a little longer, princess” he coos, his grip on your throat almost making you stop breathing completely. Fuck. Your vision becomes dizzy, and for Carmen, the view is nothing but pure delight in front of him. Your shirt raised over your stomach, you pretty little face all disorted thanks to the thrill, parted legs just to give him more space to work with, fighting for some air. He’s so damn greedy about it, knowing he’s the only person who can get you like that. “Hm, stop squeezing me like that baby.”

He chuckles lightly, your hands gripping into the edge of the counter, raising one leg over the table as you try to do what you’re told, to please him every single time. He’s torturing you, and you cannot blame him cause you made him like that, just like he spoiled you with food. All those times whimpering in his bedsheets, asking all shy if he can choke you while pounding into your cunt, cheeks red while riding him, whispering things about how thick he feels inside, how he’s stretching you out so nicely, made him confident enough to know exactly what you like.

Carmen Berzatto is a caring boyfriend after all.

“S’okay, sweetheart” he says moments after, placing soft kisses on your face, your skin glimmering against the lights of your kitchen, a light layer of sweat as you closed your eyes tightly — “Cum baby, let me feel you” he talks you through it, words coming to his mouth so easily now, the sound of his tone so raspy it makes you arch your back as you finally let yourself go, riding the orgasm and making it last as long as you can, your own pleasure being your only priority as his digits bury themselves in your cunt, pressing against your neck to make it more difficult for you, to fill your eyes with tears as you loudly moan his name.

He holds you place, the mess he made out of you in such short time, eyes following the way your body shakes in the glimpse of ecstasy, fingers still pumping inside you but at a much slower pace, knowing you’d be sensitive now, lips swollen, messy hair and ruined mascara.

“Willing to admit now i’m right?” he ask in a low voice, letting you breathe as he was still afected by you — “That it doesn’t need any more salt, smartass?”

You hum in response, chuckling at his stubborn remark, your hands gripping into his arm just to dig your nails in his tattooed skin, almost begging him to let you breathe a second.

“Get up,” he says, not harshly enough to be a command, but instead, a plea. “Bend over the counter baby. M’not done with you yet.”

And even being so sensitive, you cannot help but comply, looking at your boyfriend through half-lidded eyes cause yeah, he made you a spoiled brat in terms of food, but you have definitely broke something else when it came to the intimacy he was now into.

Or maybe you just loved being his main critique.

[dollfacefantasy]

Blue Jeans

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: request from @agent-dessis-posts - leon is looking extra fine in his jeans and when he gets out of the shower. you can't help if you stare... and maybe do a little more. i hope you enjoy!! (sorry i couldn't find a pic of him in jeans for the header)

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v

word count: 2k

a/n: hello fantasizers! (that's what i'm calling you guys now cause i am delusional) back again! thank you all for encouraging my flip phone delusions on my last post. this post is a request. if you sent me a request, know that i am working on it as fast as i can. just be patient with me pretty please :) as always i'm giving you 1000 smooches for your reblogs or comments (they really make me smile and laugh so tysm) <3

Leon looked extra good today. You didn’t think he did anything different to his look this morning, but something about him was hitting you just right today. It was like you couldn’t help but stare at him since he had come home from work. You were trying to get some of your own work done on your laptop at the dining table, but he was unknowingly making that a challenge for you. 

He was reclined on the couch, sprawled across it with his arms behind his head, half-paying attention to whatever was playing on the tv. His thick biceps emerged from his tight white t-shirt and framed his face. The thin fabric did little to hide the definition of his toned abdomen and chest.

Your eyes trailed down his body from your place across the room, settling on his jeans. The way he filled them out was driving you a special kind of crazy today. His muscular thighs wrapped tight in that blue denim. You feel like you can practically see the outline of his dick against the material. Soon, he starts to sit up and you avert your eyes back to your screen.

Leon walks over to the kitchen, seemingly unaware of your ogling. He has his back to you while he surveys the fridge for a snack. You try not to drool as you continue to gawk at him. The muscles of his back were all but visible through that white shirt. But even better than that, your favorite part, his ass. Looking like it was sculpted by an actual god, you had to stop yourself from openly salivating over your boyfriend standing just a few feet away from you.

He turns around, again snapping you out of your lustful daze. This time, he catches it though. A slight smirk appears on his face.

“You know, honey, I could just give you a picture. You could clip it to your laptop, so that way you can at least pretend you’re working,” he says. So he had noticed.

“Oh shut up,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “Like you don’t want the attention. You’re laid up like a fucking Calvin Klein ad.”

“I never said I didn’t enjoy it,” he says, his smirk growing as he walks to you. He kisses the top of your head and rubs your shoulder in a way he knows will work you up.

You look up at him, half-unamused, half-needy. You wrap your arms around his waist from where you sit, sliding a hand beneath his t-shirt to feel his skin.

“Maybe, you could give me some attention in return. Might help me focus,” you suggest as you drag your nails lightly over his side.

“Nope, you’ve got to finish your work, and I’m going to shower,” he says, kissing the top of your head.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” you say before pinching his side and snaking your hand out of his shirt.

He lets out a quiet laugh and shakes his head. “Be good while I’m gone,” he teases.

“Mhm,” you hum. As he begins walking away, you smack his ass, your hand making a muffled clap against the denim-covered flesh.

He turns his head, also trying to seem unamused now, but you can see the love in his eyes. You smile innocently at him.

“Mhm,” he repeats sarcastically.

“I hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go,” you tease as he exits the room.

It isn’t long before you hear the shower turning on in the master bathroom. It takes a minute, but with him out of the room, you’re able to focus enough to get a substantial amount of work done. You’re clacking away at your keyboard, lost in thought, not really noticing how much time has passed or that the shower has shut off.

Your concentration is shattered, however, when your personal work of art himself comes strolling past you into the kitchen with nothing on but a towel around his waist. It seemed like he was glistening, every muscle shimmering in the aftermath of his shower. The towel hung low on his waist, accentuating his v-line and exposing his happy trail. The smell of his shampoo engulfs you as he struts by without giving you a second look.

Internally, you felt like a cartoon character with your jaw dropped and tongue rolled out, an outline of your heart beating against your shirt. You try to keep it cool though and not let on how desperately you want him right now.

“Really?” you ask incredulously, “That’s how you wanna play?”

“Am I not allowed to walk through my own living room now because it distracts you?” he asks, “I know I’m pretty babe, but c’mon.”

You can hear that teasing lilt in his voice and it’s just stoking the flames of arousal inside you more. You close your laptop and stand up. Coming up behind Leon, you lace your arms around his waist and press your cheek to the warm skin of his back.

“You’re very pretty,” you agree, “My beautiful guy. Who’s also an attention whore.”

“I’m an attention whore for existing in your vicinity?” he asks, turning around in your hold so that he’s facing you. He returns the embrace and rubs your back with his thumb.

“Yeah, but don’t worry, you’re my attention whore,” you coo and squeeze your arms around him.

“I guess that’s ok then…” he says as he tilts your chin up and connects your lips in a soft kiss.

You return the affection, your need pouring through your actions. His scent overwhelmed you in such close proximity. You move your mouth with his while your hands glide down to his waist. A couple of your fingers slip beneath his towel, gently tugging it loose. The cloth starts to fall from his hips, but he catches the center, holding it so it still covers his length.

You break from kissing for a moment to catch your breath and take in the sight before you. The gray towel hanging between his legs, leaving his thighs and and hips exposed. You look him up and down, and your hands lower to his ass to feel up the muscles there.

“Like what you see?” he murmurs as you make out.

“Mhm,” you hum, not moving your lips away from his long enough to speak.

He backs the two of you up toward the counter, spins you around, and bends you over the cool marble. You feel both of his hands gripping your hips and the towel now crumpled on the floor against your ankle. He then slides his palms over your ass, kneading the flesh before giving it a firm smack. Sliding himself between your legs, he rubs his semi-hard cock against you over your shorts.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” he breathes, his voice raspier as he rocks his hips back and forth, “This what got you so hot when you’re supposed to be working?”

“What can I say? You’re irresistible,” you tease, but it comes out more as more of a moan than you intend.

“Cute,” he chuckles before pulling down your shorts and panties, letting them fall to the floor with his towel.

He drags his tip up and down your folds, teasing you as the head nudges your clit. You’re gripping the edge of the countertop as a whine falls from your lips.

“Baby, no more teasing,” you whimper.

“My eager girl. So impatient,” he says as he finally pushes himself inside of you.

You had been trying to think of a reply, but your thoughts get hazy as his cock fills you. You groan, and your head falls forward to rest against the smooth tile. That doesn’t last long because Leon’s hand is in your hair a second later, lifting your head back up and turning it slightly to face him.

“C’mon sweet girl, you were staring so much, now you can’t even keep your head up?” he grunts as he pumps in and out.

You whine and nod, letting his grip support the weight of your head. He smacks your ass again in time with a deep thrust and a strangled moan falls from your lips. You bite your lip as your eyes flutter.

“That’s right, baby. Let me clear that pretty little head so you can work. Can’t think straight unless you’ve had me inside you, yeah? It’s all you care about till you’ve had your fill,” he rasps and grips your hips harder.

His eyes roll back momentarily as your walls squeeze around him once his words sink in. You pulse and feel the hot coils of pleasure tightening in your stomach. He lets out what sounds like a growl at the feeling. The sounds of your skin meeting his fills the room as he picks up the pace.

“Getting close, angel?” he says and pulls you closer by your hair. Your back is arching and you straighten your arms to support yourself upright. You hear his heavy breathing directly in your ear and feel the hot air fanning your skin. 

You frantically nod in response to the question.

“Well, not yet baby,” he says and pulls out of you. You whine, about to complain, but he turns you around and boosts you onto the counter. He slides back in with a groan. “No, none of that. Just wanna see that beautiful face when you cum.”

The new angle has him battering your sweet spots with renewed vigor. He’s got one set of fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh, holding it up so he has room to work his hips for you. His other arm is wrapped around you and supporting your position.

You’re breathlessly whimpering, one leg wrapped around his waist and a hand in his hair. Your skin felt hot against his while the counter felt cool on your ass, especially after you felt the sting of his hand there a few times.

You were already close in the previous position, so you’re barely able to hold it together now. He can tell from the way you’re wildly fluttering around him. Your breathing becomes more like gasps as you approach that familiar edge. His hand on your back slides up to your head and pulls you closer so that his face is in the crook of your neck when he lets out a primal sound that’s somewhere between a whine and a growl.

“You there, honey?” he asks against your skin.

“Mhm,” you hum immediately, nodding again.

“Me too, baby. Let go for me. Squeeze me nice and tight, just like that,” he says, his voice strained and breaking off into a whimper at the end.

You shudder against him and gasp before letting out a long, low moan as you cum. Your body twitches and your head tilts back slightly. He presses some sloppy kisses to your neck before grunting and biting his lip, a choked sound of pleasure emanating from his throat.

His hips sputter and his thrusts lose rhythm as he releases too. You feel his hot, thick cum flooding your insides, the sensation making you tremble with satisfaction. His fingers press hard against your skin while his forehead rests on your shoulder. You feel his ragged breathing on your skin. It’s slightly cool from the light sheen of sweat you’d worked up.

The two of you take a second to catch your breath before disconnecting and untangling your bodies.

“You feeling better now? Less distracted?” he teases, brushing some hair from your face and kissing your forehead.

“Mmm, yeah, but I think I have to take a shower now too,” you say with a grin. You peck his lips in return and then hop off the counter and playfully smacking his ass again.

“I don’t know. You still seem to have something else on your mind,” he says, his own smug smile returning, “I didn’t think my girl would be satisfied after one round. Maybe a few more and then I’ll join you for another shower.”

“I think I like your plan better,” you say as he grabs your wrist and pulls you off to the bedroom.

[mitfloya]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥

pairings. Rafayel x gn!reader

wc. 6.8K

synopsis. He believes that by isolating you, he can protect you from the outside world and ensure your happiness together. In his twisted mind, this is his way of creating a perfect and eternal bond, you’re his muse, his statue of beauty, his own aphrodite.

warnings. The following content contains elements of obsessive behavior, yandere thoughts, stalking, possessive behavior, and may include poorly written narratives. Reader is referred to as 'you'. Proceed with caution, as this writing may be unsettling or uncomfortable for some individuals.

a/n. Hiyaaa! Thank you so much for the people that have helped me make my post manage to slip through the timeline! I kid you not I had to break my spine with this issues I kept running into (the ori yandere Zayne post is gone, I’m sorry for the inconvenience), if any of you have any suggestions on how to make my post made it into the tags please tell them on the comments section. Get ready and have some snacks and hope you enjoy reading another hc I made

♡ Please reblog and comment on this post are much, much appreciated ♡

A manchild…? you love this guy? Me being a slander and simp at the same time

To put it simply, Rafayel is always the damsel in distress and YOU are his knight shining armor. He needs your attention and protection 24/7, you don’t want him to end up dead, do you? The whole universe will miss him. 

First of all, he loves you. Second of all, he hates you. 

You’re like a goldfish, how could you not remember the vows you both made when you were just a little kid?! The mere fact that you failed to recognize his face shattered his heart into pieces, for you hold immense significance in his life.

The weight of your indifference crashed upon him like a tidal wave, leaving his emotions in ruins. It was like a tornado tearing through his soul, causing a gut-wrenching ache that seemed to consume him from within.

It creates a twisted cycle of emotions that he struggles to contain. He yearns for the love you once shared, yet despises you for not remembering the bond you had. 

Perhaps he regrets not taking action in the past to ensure he could always locate you, to have left a distinctive mark upon you as a means of tracking your whereabouts.

You should’ve recognized him at first glance. Where have you been? He thought he lost you, he doesn’t even want to wish upon your death but you make it harder for him not to.

You’ve grown so much and so many changes but you’re still the same person he met at the beach, and it makes him feels so many emotions at once, it’s the first time he has managed to put a rein over his emotions, he could’ve coax you to come to his studio and locked you up, if you were to recognize him.

His heart longed to show much he misses you yet his mind tells him to seek revenge. It’s like his body and soul is splitting. Do you know how much damage you are causing him?

You must understand, my dear, that he is determined not to repeat past mistakes. It is time for him to take drastic measures, to make a promise that will bind you to him forever. He sees you as his ultimate protector, his unwavering shield. From this moment forward, you will never leave his sight again.

In his eyes, you have always belonged to each other, from the very beginning. Your destinies intertwined, your fates entangled. He craves the security of knowing that you are by his side, guarding his every step, his every breath. No longer will he allow even the smallest sliver of distance to separate you.

From the beginning you are his as much as he is yours.

His artistic talent is both his greatest strength and his greatest weapon. Through his art, he immortalizes his love and hatred for you, capturing the complexities of his emotions with every stroke of the brush. His creations serve as a constant reminder of his twisted desires. 

Initially consumed by hatred, he concealed his love, allowing it to resurface gradually, in subtle and tender ways. 

It’s the slowest burn you could ever imagine. Painstakingly slow.

As Rafayel's hatred gradually diminished, he began to express his feelings more openly, albeit subtly, leaving significant hints about the depth of his emotions towards you. Similar to a small forest fire that grows steadily, each progression was deliberate and methodical until it consumed the entire forest, an uncontrollable blaze that can’t be extuingish.

Say goodbye to freedom and welcome to his world, now that you’re his. He will be the center of your universe.

Clinginess is an inherent trait of Rafayel's nature. He craves your presence and attention, unable to bear the thought of being separated from you even for a moment. He will go to great lengths to ensure that you never leave his side.

You've grown accustomed to his playful nature and constant need for attention, but be prepared for an amplified version, as his demands intensify. Good luck dealing with your man ♡

He is a man of pride, he immortalizes you through his art, proudly showcasing pieces dedicated to you at his exhibitions. While abstract in form, this exclusivity serves to intrigue others, leaving them pondering what makes you so special in his eyes.

Unknown to you hidden away within his personal stash, there is a gallery dedicated solely to you. Every piece of artwork revolves around your existence, capturing his obsession with meticulous detail. The walls are adorned with portraits, each stroke of the brush reflecting his twisted love for you.

But at the very least, he showers you with lots of love and affection, no more holding back.

In relationships, he presents himself as a calm and romantic partner, radiating an aura of serenity akin to the sea. He enjoys spending quality time with you, whether it be casual outings or simply sharing space in silence. With him, you will never feel alone.

But do not be deceived by the calm waters, for they possess the ability to draw you into the depths of darkness, leaving you submerged and unable to resurface. His obsession remains unpredictable, much like the ever-changing tides of the sea. 

Oh, how you've stumbled into his clutches the moment you made that fateful vow. There is no turning back, my dear. You have fallen into the siren's trap, lured by his haunting charm. You are now forever entwined in his grasp, unable to break free. You should have thought twice before crossing paths with him if you weren't planning to stay.

He has two preferred methods of dealing with nuisances. He may choose to be smug and show off his superiority, rubbing his success in their faces. He revels in flaunting his success and talents, using them as a means to intimidate and belittle those who dare to steal you away.

However, if they persist, he is unafraid to resort to physical means, utilizing violence to eliminate them from your life. He goes to extreme lengths, even shedding blood and concealing the evidence of his actions, all in the name of safeguarding your well-being and maintaining his possessive hold over you.

His possessiveness knows no bounds, his desire to claim you as his own overpowering any sense of reason. He will go to great lengths to ensure that no one else can possess you, viewing you as his ultimate masterpiece.

When faced with difficulty or resistance from you, Rafayel won't hesitate to take drastic measures. He is willing to use any means necessary, including drugs, to put you to sleep and kidnap you. He will isolate you in his studio, ensuring that you will be together forever.

His studio, the place where he creates his art, becomes both a sanctuary and prison for you. Within its walls, he controls every aspect of your existence, dictating your every move and stifling your individuality. It is a place where his obsession can flourish unchecked.

You will forever remain under his possession, as he claims you and binds you eternally.

© 2024 mitfloya — all rights reserved. kindly refrain from altering, translating, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.

[ramp-it-up]

Two Most Wanted Pt. 4...Anytime you Like

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: You have your way with Sy. Or is it him having his way with you? 🧐

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, talk of birth control, Graphic sex. Fingering, manual sex (f receiving) oral, Dom Sy is coming out to play, degredation AND praise kink, dirty talk kink, begging, raw p in v, size kink, pleasurable pain, rough sex, copious amounts of bodily fluids, some fluff and just a lil' angst at the end. This is 2.5k of porn with a teeny tiny bit of plot.

Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N:  This is the fourth installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

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Sy gladly let you pull him into your rental.

Then, he took control.

He pushed you against the wall and placed his hands on your waist, bending down because of the height difference, even though you were wearing four inch-heels. You’d missed how tiny he made you feel.

Sy’s mouth was so close to yours as he queried you. His eyes were so intense.

“You’re not done with me yet, eh?”

You pouted and his lips tenderly touched yours, deepening the kiss as you parted your lips. His tongue insisted that you belonged to him and yours agreed, the two dancing passionately.

“Good girl. Opening up for me like that.”

Your head was spinning and you whined in your throat. 

“Hm.” 

Sy grunted and then smiled before he kissed you again. You were glad for the wall as you were weak for him again. 

“Whatcha wanna do with me, Buttercup?”

Sy’s fingers were on your ribcage now, his large hands spanning your torso. Then, his hands were everywhere as he explored your body, from your breasts over your dress, to your back, down to your ass, which he squeezed as his mouth possessed yours again.

“I want to be your cum slut, Sy. Want you inside me.”

Sy stopped moving, resting his forehead on yours and his hands on your hips. He huffed into your face.

“Holy shit, Buttercup. I thought I was calm after what that mouth of yours did in the Bronco. But what that mouth of yours says…”

Sy’s hand was on your jaw and you turned your head to capture his thumb and suck it. 

“Wan’ you to fill me up, Sy.”

You looked him straight in the eye as he pressed the rock hard length in his pants against you. His pupils were blown and you felt enormous power.

“Hm. The thoughts you think, Buttercup.”

Sy examined your face as he questioned you, his blue eyes making you shiver.

“You want me to fuck you raw…?”

You smiled at his lewd suggestion and the gravel in his voice, and lifted your arms, placing them on his shoulders, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. 

“I’m on the pill. And tested regularly. But only if you want to.”

The expression on his face was priceless.

“If I want to? Hell, Buttercup. I’ve wanted this for 20 years. Jesus, it's really happening.”

He looked as if he would devour you.

An unexpected joy at his want caused a giggle to bubble up in your throat as Sy rolled you around the corner, further into the room, and started trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck right below your ear. His hand was on your ass as you started to grind on air. He remembered your spot.

“Fuck, Sy!”

His other hand came up around your neck and tightened to let you know who was in charge, and you whimpered as he looked down at you and grinned.

You pouted at him, frustrated because you wanted to feel all of the things at once.

Sy’s hands roamed, finding your waist again and lifting your feet off the ground as he kissed you, making you heated at the show of his power. He set you down again, squeezing your breasts and sucking the tops of them in your dress as you writhed in his grip. 

“Let me see you in the light, Buttercup.”

He reached around and wasted no time in pushing his shirt off your shoulders and unzipping your dress to let it fall to the floor.

Sy stepped back and took all of you in. You felt like a piece of art as he studied you. You concentrated on not covering up. 

This was a long time in coming.

“Damn, Buttercup. You’re so beautiful. All of you. Better’n my dreams.”

Sy looked into your eyes after taking in your curves. Hungry.

“Kiss me, Sy.”

He did as you asked, hands on your breasts now, kneading them and weighing them in his hands, his thumbs thrumming you like an instrument. He kissed you fiercely, then looked into your eyes again as he slid down to inhale you, mouth sliding over your flesh, between, underneath, on top, and finally, sucking your nipples into his mouth with abandon.

You moaned as your pussy pulsed with need.

“Sy…please…”

“Don’t rush me now, baby. I’m gonna savor this.”

He kissed you again, and then slid his hand down your torso to your pussy, finding you still so wet for him.

“Hm. Such a good girl, with such a good pussy. Here. See.”

He held your gaze as he brought his fingers up and put them into your mouth, making you taste yourself.

It was so dirty that you practically came from the taste of your desire for Jacob Syverson. 

“Thaaaat’s a girl. Get ‘em even wetter.”

He removed his hand and brought it back down to your cunt.

“I want you to cum for me. Right now.”

“S-Yyyyyyy!”

Most of his fingers went inside you while his thumb stroked your clit. He practically lifted you off the ground as he fucked you with his hand, watching your face as he alternated marking you up and sucking your nipples hard.

“So fuckin’ hot, Buttercup. Good girl.”

His voice was doing things to you. Sy grinned and his eyebrow arched as he felt you clench on his fingers. He brought his mouth close to your ear.

“Which is it, Buttercup? Are you a cum slut, or a good girl?”

Your head went back into the wall as you moaned, baring your throat to him again.

“Or is it both? Are you my good little cum slut?”

“Oh my fucking godddddd!!!!”

You came in his arms and Sy watched you, his mouth open in awe. He couldn’t wait anymore.

He picked you up and carried you into the bedroom, dropping you on the bed as he took off his shoes and clothes. You sat up to look at him.

He was massive. Sy had matured from a lithe youth to a grown man and he was thick all over. The curls on his head continued on his face and on his chest, a dark rush of it pointing down to his cock, which you knew was big, because you’d tried to swallow it earlier. But seeing it like this, hard and throbbing, curved against his hairy stomach, large mushroom tip leaking, thick shaft throbbing, made you lean back with your legs open. 

‘I want that,’ you thought.

Sy took it in his hand and started stroking, causing precum to drip out and you to lick your lips.

“You’re about to get it, Buttercup. Anything you want. Look so fucking beautiful all laid out for me.”

You smiled as you realized you’d said that out loud and you opened your legs wider as he climbed between them. He handled you like a rag doll as he grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to his legs as he knelt on the bed. He grabbed your knees and spread your legs up and apart as his long thick cock slid in between your legs, smearing your wetness all along the underside of his shaft.

“Mmmmmmmm, Sy, want more.”

He was skating in your slick, driving you wild with the tease of the cap of his cock catching on your clit as he moved back and forth.

“Patience, Buttercup. Need to lube myself up with your cream.”

Sy was enjoying how wet you were and the fact that he was actually between your legs after all this time. He watched, almost mesmerized, at his cock moving through your folds, and his dick jumped, slapping you on the clit and making you moan.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease… OH shitttt. It’s too much!”

You’d gone from begging for his dick to pleading for mercy as his thick head breached you. You stared at Sy wide eyed as he grabbed his shaft and stopped moving. His heart clenched at the thought of hurting you.

“You good? Want me to…”

He made to pull out and then you implored him.

“No! I mean, it’s so big, Sy… but I want it. Need. It.”

You grabbed your breasts as you felt him cock jump within you.

“More, please.”

“Mmmmmmoooooahhhh,” Sy groaned deeply as he slowly eased into you and at the vision of you pulling your own nipples as he stretched out your soul. 

He bottomed out and licked your exposed neck, causing you to shudder in his hands, which were gripping your ribcage. You looked like sin and felt like heaven around him. 

“You good, Buttercup? Please say you’re good. I need you to be good, baby. ‘Cause I need to fuck you so bad….”

Sy was panting and his heartbeat was erratic.

As always, his words made you gush wetness and you arched as you kissed him, laying down fully and bringing your hands to his short curls.

“I’m good Sy,” you looked him in the eyes. “So fucking good, all full of you. Fuck me. Please… ah!”

As soon as you said ‘fuck me,’ Sy started moving slowly, dragging sparks with with each millimeter of movement inside you.

“More…”

You whispered it as all of your senses came alive and were overwhelming you. 

Sy sped up and looked from your eyes to his cock destroying your pussy. He couldn’t focus on one thing for too long, your face, your hair splayed out beneath you, hour breasts with nipples erect and bouncing, the way he was moving you like a doll as he helped himself deliver the dick to your pussy.

“Good god Buttercup. This cunt is so tight and wet and hot for me. Shit, you stretched around me is so much better than my imagination….”

“Ooooh. Sy. Feels so…Your cock goes so deep.”

It had never been like this before. With anyone.

Sy gave you a mischievous grin as he leaned back and grabbed your knees, bringing them up and bending you in half so that he could plunge even deeper inside you.

Your head shot up to witness him ravaging you as he slowly fucked you with long and deep strokes. You dug your nails into his forearms, holding on for dear life. He fucked you so good that you gouged scratches down his arm and the pain sparked a new pleasure in him that he didn’t know he needed at the moment.

He was inspired to fuck you better, faster, harder.

Sy reached up behind your head and pulled it down by the thick curls at your nape as he leaned over you, caging you in with his massive body as he thoroughly and soundly tried to put you under the bed.

Your belly tightened, your insides in a vice grip of pleasure as you tried to run. There was nowhere to go, however, as Sy was all around you. He felt you tense up, heard your whimper and kept a steady pace, his balls tight against him, the notion of making you cum with just his cock a long held ideal.

“What’s wrong Buttercup?”  

He looked you in the eyes before he kissed your lips.

“Afraid to let go? Don’t want to let me have the cum I’ve been waiting for?”

“Unh! Sy…”

You felt him in your belly, thick in your channel like he was made of you. You knew what was about to happen. And you wanted to get away from it.

Sy read the look on your face.

“Unh unh. You’re going to stay and take my cock like a woman. Not gonna run. You’re gonna take this orgasm, gimme your cum like I deserve it.”

Sy didn’t let up on the intensity, but he looked down and surveyed what he was doing to you.

“Look at all that beautiful cream. Looks so fucking good. Making me drool.”

You had an out of body experience as you watched the saliva leave Sy’s mouth and drip onto your clit and as soon as it made contact, you came, gushing more fluid in between you two.

Sy pounded you through it for a few thrusts, then he pulled out and rushed to collect some of you on his tongue.

“Goddamn. So fucking good, Buttercup. Taste yourself.”

He was up again and before you could protest, was back inside you, hand on your throat as he kissed you hard and deep, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as his resolute pounding and the taste of your cum combined. He trailed his hand down your neck to your breast, rolling your nipple for a second before finding your hand and holding it above your head as he looked into your eyes. 

Suddenly, he became tender, looking as if he was about to say something that you didn’t want to hear, so your other hand found his ass as you encouraged him to find his own end.

“Gimme your cum, Sy. You owe me. Some. Cum.”

He licked his lips at the filth you were uttering and responded in kind.

“Anything you want, Buttercup. I’ve got so much, you’ll be leaking for days.”

You arched your back and bit your lip at his words and as the music of skin slapping on skin intensified. You felt yourself tighten impossibly around him again. And so did Sy.

“Oh…. no….” 

You felt as if you couldn’t take another, but Sy wasn’t done with you yet.

“Oh, yes, baby. Just give me one… more….”

Sy’s thumb found your clit and as you came around him, he emptied all he had inside you.

“You feel like…like heaven, Buttercup.”

Your hands were on his face as you watched his ecstasy and as he pumped more and more of his seed inside you. You smiled and kissed his forehead as his head bent in exhaustion. You wanted to say that he was beautiful, but that would be more than you wanted to convey. You just kissed his lips when he looked back up at you again, and you collapsed on your sides, your bodily fluids between you and his slowly softening cock still inside you.

Sy pushed your hair back from around your sweaty face.

“Look, Buttercup, I know that you are holding back. But you can’t stop me from saying it again.”

“Sy-”

“Shhhh, Buttercup.”

Sy smiled. Handsome wasn’t the word.

“I love you. ‘Til the day I die.”

He brought your hand up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles.

“I know you’re still trying to process everything, and I can only imagine all of the things that are going on in that beautiful brain of yours, but you’re mine. I’m claiming you. Whether it's for the rest of our lives, or just for this weekend.”

You just looked at him and nodded, emotional and unable to speak.

“Just want you to know where I stand. This wasn’t just notalgia sex.”

He slipped out of you and rolled over on his back before he got up and headed toward the bathroom.

“And for whatever time period I have you, I’m yours. Anytime you like, Buttercup.”

He looked back at you with a saucy grin as he caught you ogling his ass.

You stared at the ceiling as you listened to him turn on the water. There was a lot going on in your head, but Sy had just told you that he wanted you and simultaneously taken the pressure off this weekend.

You thought about what you wanted. And what you wanted was currently taking a shower. You walked into the bathroom to have some more of him. You opened the shower door and Sy reached out and pulled you in.

“Get in here Buttercup, the water’s fine.”

That grin would do you in.

Next part here

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[aesethewitch]

Ghosts 101

Spirit work has always been the ultimate base of my spiritual and magical practices. Some of my earliest clear memories are of encounters with spirits, and I’ve always had a talent for sensing them. In a horror movie setting, I’d be that person who gets the weird feeling in the hallway right before all the doors slam shut at once, feeling the shift in the air before whatever ghoul’s around makes its mischief.

I mention this right out of the gate so that you, the reader, know that most of what I know about ghosts (and spirits in general) comes from personal experience. Not books, not videos, not other people’s work. There’s a lot of UPG in this little essay. Just keep that in mind as you read.

If there’s something you disagree with or have different experiences with, I’m not surprised! Everything in the realm of spirits, including ghosts, can really only be theorized about. Disagreeing opinions, experiences, and theories are very, very welcome. Drop ‘em in the replies, reblogs, or my inbox. Or, if you want, make a post of your own and tag me in it. I want to see them!

Anyways, with that lengthy UPG disclaimer out of the way, let’s get to the good stuff.

What is a Ghost?

I think it’s important to note, though kind of obvious, that ghosts are a sub-category of spirit. All ghosts are spirits, but not all spirits are ghosts. But what is a ghost, exactly?

As with most things, theories differ. In general, ghosts are thought to be… well, dead people. Some folks think that ghosts are the soul, essence, or spirit of a person who has died. Others believe that ghosts are just a fragment of a person’s spirit. But I’ve also seen theories stating that ghosts aren’t really ghosts, they’re echoes or imprints of human energy that once existed in a place.

Then, there are folks who think ghosts don’t exist at all. I can’t really blame them; empirical, repeatable proof of ghosts is tough to get in order to be satisfying in a scientific way. The only reason I personally believe in ghosts is because I’ve had several encounters that can’t otherwise be explained. Plus, for me, it goes hand-in-hand with other types of spirit work. Ghosts being real just makes sense with the framework I use to engage with the world.

So, obviously, there isn’t one single, concrete answer as to what a ghost is. We can only theorize.

My Theories

My personal theory aligns more or less with one of the more common theories. I think that ghosts are the lingering spirits of living beings who have died. Note I say living beings — some people think that only humans can become ghosts, but I think that any living thing can become one. In the case of plants and trees, ghosts behave somewhat differently than animals; but that’s a whole other conversation to be had. For the sake of this post, I plan on focusing mainly on human ghosts.

The way I understand it, ghosts are the whole, complete essence of a person that lingers in the physical realm for a time after their physical body no longer functions. I believe there are also energetic imprints — energy left over from the living, often (but not always) caused and fueled by strong emotions and lingering ties of memory in a place. These imprints can seem like a haunting, but the key difference is that they aren’t sentient. They may echo when you call, but they won’t give answers that are intelligent or timely according to questions asked or stimulus provided by the living. Sort of like recording a ringing bell; playing the bell’s chime back doesn’t ring the bell again. It just plays the sound it knows.

Now, death does funny things to the mind. Depending on the circumstances of the death, a ghost might have full awareness that they were alive, have died, and are now a ghost. I find this is most common for people who died of old age and long-term diseases: people who knew they were nearing the end, for one reason or another.

Ghosts formed from more sudden deaths, on the other hand, are likelier to not know what happened. They may figure it out given time, or they may never learn the truth. As with most other things dealing with individuals, the exact circumstances vary. No two ghosts are exactly the same. Some people don’t become ghosts at all, I’ve found! They simply move on.

Another important aspect of my theories on ghosts is that I think they fade. Unless they’re continually tied to a space, fed a steady supply of energy, and purposely kept in the physical realm, I believe that they can’t sustain a form here. Without a physical body to keep the spirit, soul, consciousness, or whatever we are, a ghost is gradually pulled into the more ethereal side of things. The astral plane, the other side, the afterlife, et cetera; I’m not sure, personally, where they end up. Maybe it depends on what they were attached to in life, maybe it doesn’t. Who knows!

I think this is where I draw the distinction between ghosts and ancestor spirits. “Ancestor spirits,” in my practice, aren’t individual people from my past. Rather, they’re a sort of collective consciousness made up of all the people who came before me who are connected to me through familial, cultural, and blood ties. I like to believe that ghosts become part of that collective when they fade out of the physical world. All this is to say, ghosts are just people who are dead. They won’t be around forever unless they’re bound and kept “fed.”

On Hauntings

The first half of the things everyone wants to know is: How do we know when a ghost is actually present? It’s a good question, one that’s hotly debated in ghost hunting circles. For the sake of argument, I think we need to define the word haunting first.

To be clear, a haunting isn’t just when a ghost is present. A ghost just passing through or lingering for a little while doesn’t necessarily make a haunting. That would be better described as a presence. A haunting, in my opinion, is a long-term, sustained presence of a ghost or imprint.

And the first step to dealing with a haunting is to determine whether the place you’re in is actually haunted. You don’t have to have super sensitive psychic powers to detect the presence of ghosts. Some folks might have an easier time of it than others, but anyone can learn how to discern when a ghost is hanging around.

It’s important to note that commonly-reported signs of ghost presences and hauntings are also symptoms of other issues like mold, electrical issues, pressure changes, carbon monoxide, stress and anxiety, noisy neighbors, animals outside or in the walls (including bugs), sleep apnea or insomnia, and more. It’s important to consider mundane reasons before leaping to magical, spiritual, or ghostly ones.

With that in mind, let’s say that you’ve ruled out all the mundane possibilities, and you’re still left wondering whether that place is capital-H Haunted. How can you tell?

In my experience, there are a few signs that will stick out:

Disembodied sounds, such as voices, knocking, and walking

A pervasive chill or prickling feeling, particularly on parts of the body that are covered

A feeling of being touched, poked, or prodded

Visual disturbances like mist or shadows

Sudden smells that can’t be explained, such as perfume, tobacco, or food

Batteries in things like phones and cameras draining very quickly

Now, note that even with these signs, a lot of these things can happen with spirits that aren’t ghosts. The only way to know for absolutely sure that you’re dealing with a ghost and not a mischievous, physical-realm-poking non-human spirit is to make contact and ask.

My fellow sensitive individuals may experience other signs during a haunting. Depending on where your abilities lie, you might experience stronger sensations or detect signs of a haunting earlier than others who haven’t trained these senses.

What Causes a Haunting?

It’s hard to say. Some people (particularly ghost hunters with big TV shows who need to make those viewer numbers go up) say that ghosts stick around because they’re pissed off or had some tragedy befall them in life. Trauma ties them to their surroundings, trapping them between life and death as a specter, or something like that.

Honestly, all that tells me is that these guys are trying to sell you something (their show). I’ve met maybe two ghosts that were like that, and they had extremely good reasons for it. That’s not to say there aren’t traumatized ghosts out there; just that they aren’t nearly as common or the only explanation for a haunting.

I’m personally not sure what causes some ghosts to linger over others. I think it does partly have to do with emotion, but it may also have to do with the amount of energy the person had left when they died. For example, the ghost of my great-aunt faded within a couple weeks after she died, because she was old, tired, and ready. On the other hand, the ghost of a guy I went to school with who died in an accident a few years ago is still lingering on the train tracks where it happened. It’s an extremely individual thing.

Another part of lingering ghosts and hauntings, I think, is interaction with the living. Without a physical body, the ghost has no native source of energy. Part of working with ghosts, for me, has been learning how to share energy (mine or from other sources) with ghosts to help them communicate, interact, and continue existing. When the energy runs out, they fade. With a steady supply of energy sources, a ghost could theoretically haunt a place indefinitely.

So, what causes a haunting? I don’t really know for sure! What causes a haunting to linger? A steady source of energy, I think.

Making Contact

So, you want to talk to a ghost. Cool! You’ve got a ton of options at your disposal.

There are the witch-typical methods of spirit communication, most of which would work fairly well for talking to ghosts. I’ve talked a little bit about spirit communication methods before in a more general sense, but I find that ghosts don’t always respond well to divination.

In my experience, simpler tools are better. Unless I knew for a fact that a person understood tarot in life, I would be unlikely to use it to talk to their ghost. Tools you can easily explain that provide clear answers would likely serve you best for most ghosts. My biggest suggestions are pendulums, which are easy for ghosts to understand and manipulate, and ouija boards. Yes, yes, I can hear the gasping and booing already.

Listen. Ouija boards are not evil. Ouija is a game. But talking boards really are good tools for talking to ghosts. Again, they’re easy to understand and manipulate. Plus, you can get really clear answers from a talking board if your ghost is chatty.

There are other tools that have been popularized by ghost hunters that may come in handy, too. Personally, I’ve had success with voice recorders catching EVP (electronic voice phenomena) and, on one notable occasion, a ghost box.

Honestly, I’ve had little use for tools like these outside of ghost hunting scenarios where we’re trying to prove ghosts’ existence in a scientific sense. Voice recorders catching wisps of voice in the background are super cool, and I definitely would suggest having one on hand when doing a ghost adventure. But they’re not great for in the moment communication, since you have to stop a recording to listen back to it and then react who knows how long later.

Where ghost boxes are concerned, I’ve only had the one opportunity to try it out. We were in a location I knew to be haunted thanks to previous visits, and it did seem to work okay. I’d like to try it again sometime to see if it was just a fluke or if it’s an actual, viable thing to use. With any tool commonly used in ghost hunting TV shows (or that’s otherwise Popular By Spectacle), I always approach with serious skepticism. Those shows are all about creating a reaction that can be captured; and when they don’t receive a response, they’re liable to make shit up for the cameras. It’s annoying, especially when a tool might really be useful but it’s shrouded in the very necessary skepticism around these shows.

Now, my personal go-to method to connect to ghosts is to just… talk to them. I don’t usually need to use any tools for it. But I’ve spent many, many, many years honing the skills needed to do this. It’s worth learning how to do if you plan on working with spirits, but it does take effort to get good at, even if you have an innate talent for it. If you can, take some time to develop a sense for spirits. Learn what spiritual presences feel like for you. You may not get immediate results at first, but the skill of sensing energy can apply across the board. And even if you get no “real” response, you can still talk to the ghosts.

When you go to communicate with a ghost, just remember that they’re still a person. They’re not a spectacle, though they are fascinating. Not all ghosts are going to want to talk to you. Not all ghosts are going to like you. Be respectful. Treat that ghost like you’d treat any stranger out in the wild. Don’t be an asshole.

On Mediumship

This is mostly just a brief note, since it’s an adjacent topic that I’ve gotten questions about before.

Not everyone who talks to or works with ghosts is a medium. A medium is a particular career or path that describes someone who acts as a connector between the living and the dead. I tend to think of mediums as the telephone in a conversation — relaying messages back and forth. I used to do medium work all the time. It’s an exhausting path that requires a lot of self-discipline and solid boundaries dealing with both the living and the dead. I don’t do it anymore, though I do still communicate and work with ghosts regularly.

Just keep in mind that you don’t have to take on the title or mantle of “medium” in order to talk to, work with, or research ghosts.

Ghostly Q&A

I received a handful of questions about ghosts in the run up to posting this; thank you everyone who sent in a question! If you’ve got a question and want my perspective on it, feel free to drop it in my inbox or in the replies/reblogs of this post.

From @moonmargaritas: “How do you tell the difference between nervousness at discerning the presence of a ghost (new practitioner who still gets jitters 🤙) and sensing actual hostile intent?”

This is a really great question! This is something I had to work through myself when I got started. And honestly, I still get jitters sometimes many years later! It can be scary, even when you’re used to it.

The biggest piece of advice I have is to learn how your body experiences nervousness or anxiety. Where does that sit in your body? What kind of feelings to you experience?

For me, nervousness is a sort of itchy tingling around my shoulders and tightness around my ribs. It also manifests as the feeling of being watched or observed too closely. It’s easy to misattribute those feelings to a ghost’s presence — tingling and feeling like something’s watching? Those are classic ghost interactions! But I know that’s what anxiety feels like. That’s how I feel when the lights go out too fast or I hear a branch snap in the distance.

Once you know, you can work past those feelings and focus on what’s actually happening with the ghost (or spirit). I think of it like knowing when someone’s mad at me. Are they mad, or am I just anxious? It’s the same idea.

And, as a note, ghosts with hostile intent are few and far between. I personally don’t think that most ghosts, even the nastiest ghosts, can actually hurt you; they don’t have the energy resources for it. The ones that do are obvious, and you won't really have to question their intentions. However, you can always work with the communication methods mentioned above to determine the ghost’s feelings and intents. If you’re worried about negative interactions, a bit of salt and rosemary in a little pouch placed in your pocket goes a long way for protection.

From anonymous: “What’s an unusual way people could use to communicate with spirits? Like an expected divination tool or something we should pay more attention to.”

Hmmmm! Honestly, I think that classic, actual call and response is underrated specifically when it comes to ghosts. Yeah, we’ve all seen the Ghost TV Guys call out for a knock or a word or whatever, but when they get a response, they wig out and don’t do anything with it. It’s annoying!! Because genuinely, saying “tap once for yes, twice for no” and asking questions is a really, really solid way to communicate with a ghost when you have no other tools that will work on hand. I’ve had ghosts lead me to important places and objects within houses doing this. I think more people should give it a try without falling prey to the over-the-top reaction of “DID YOU HEAR THAT?!”

From anonymous: What advice would you give someone dealing with a haunting?

For a run-of-the-mill, regular old haunting? Let it run its course. Most hauntings, when left alone, will fade. However, if you’re inclined to talk to the ghost(s), get them to leave quicker, or get them to be less intrusive in your life, there are a few things you could do.

To talk to them, choose a method of communication and try to reach out like I described above. Get to know them if you can, and set some ground rules. If they won’t (or can’t) communicate with you, and you really want them gone, I would probably recommend a gentle banishing ritual. Something that doesn’t scream “get out” so much as kindly say, “It’s time to move on.”

Or, if you don’t want the ghost gone, just a little quieter at night or out of your bedroom, you could set up wards or activity-dampeners around specific spaces. Choose ingredients and spells that protect against unwanted spirits or just unwanted activity. Keep it activated all day long or just at night while you’re trying to sleep.

Thanks for Reading!

Posts like this are usually put on my Ko-Fi as exclusives first, but since the questions in this one came from Tumblr, I decided to post it in both places at once! (:

With that said, if you did enjoy this post, consider throwing a couple dollars at my tip jar. Tips, commissions, and shop purchases get you 30 days of access to my entire backlog of exclusive posts and upcoming ones. Monthly members get continuous access plus extra benefits! All support helps me keep the lights on, so it's very much appreciated.

If you've got Ghost Questions, shoot 'em my way! My inbox is open.

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - 2. Off to the Races

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

Previous Chapter │ The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Preview: You hesitantly reach for the massive bouquet, looking at the beautiful mix of colors in awe. "Joel," you breathe, "They're beautiful." "The woman at the shop said that certain flowers can have meaning. She asked me about you." He points to the flowers in your hand. "Lilies, well, they mean infatuation. Chrysanthemums, for excitement." He points to the pink rose. "For sweetness and admiration." "and the carnations?" "For fascination and enchantment." "Joel.. you don't mean that, do you?" He chuckles. "Oh, I absolutely do, Sugar. Those flowers are just my way of expressing what I already know."

Chapter Warnings and Tags: Joel Miller is hungry and wants to EAT, Smut, One massive Tess sized-cockblock, Boss x Employee relationship, Time Jumping to and fro, Joel Miller is a silly flirt, Joel jumps right in, Explicit language, Did I mention smut?, Soft boy Joel Miller

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: You GUYS. YOU GUYS (!!!!!)

Thank you so much for all of the love for the first chapter of my silly little series with my even sillier Old Man Joel and his Sugar. I am absolutely flabbergasted by all of the likes, reblogs, and comments from all of you, it really means a lot to me! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You have no idea how much it means to me.

I have the first few chapters written and planned out, and I hope to post at least a new chapter once a week. I can't make any promises as I go back to work next week, but I will try. I apologize in advance if I skip a week, it is not my intention to let you guys down.

I hope you all enjoy!

Today. 

[Hey Sugar, are you in your office right now?]

Yes, did you need something, Mr. Miller?

[Yes, actually, I do. I'll come to you, don't leave!]

A knock on the door startles you.

"Hey, Sugar?" Tommy Miller's voice rings out from the other side of the door. "Have you seen Joel? I know he said he had to ask you about something, but that was an hour ago-"

"Yeah?" you reply, almost in a whine, your head tipped back in pleasure as you try to muffle a scream. "Joel? No, haven't seen him around. No, not since this—"

There's a pause, and then Tommy's voice comes again, this time with a hint of amusement. "Still wrestling with his laptop, huh? The man can't even change his wallpaper without causing a crisis. I'll check his usual spots. If you see him, tell him Tess needs him in her office, pronto."

Just then, the muted sound of a cough under your desk catches your attention. You look down to find Joel, crouched beneath the desk with a sheepish grin on his face.

"Now, where were we?" he chuckles, his eyes meeting yours with a mischievous glint.

“Joel!” You smack him playfully as you roll your desk chair back. “Tess will have your head if you don’t show up soon!”

“But I’m starving, baby! Just let me have a little snack-“ he pulls your chair back to him as he situates himself under your desk, lifting your skirt as he smiles at the sight of your barely-there scrap of lace one would call underwear. “Shit baby, is this for me?” He lowers his head to your aching cunt, his arms wrapping around your thighs as he pulls you closer to his mouth. He rubs the tip of his nose along your slit, a satisfied smirk forming on his lips. He licks at your covered mound, the tip of his tongue adding just enough pressure for you to gasp out in pleasure. “I asked you a question, baby girl. Who did you wear these panties for?”

“You,” you say breathily, covering your mouth to muffle up your moans as he plants kisses along your thighs. “You, Mr. Miller. Only you.”

“Who owns this pretty pussy?”

"You do, Sir."

"Damn right, I do." Joel licks his lips as he pushes your panties aside, licking your clit. "Fuck, she's aching for me, isn't she?" He locks his eyes with yours, his mouth hovering over your pussy. "Can I?"

You nod, not trusting yourself to keep quiet.

Joel shakes his head, displeased with your answer. "No baby, use your words-" he growls, nipping at your thighs as you wince in pain.

"PLEASE Joel, keep going!" He smiles at your eagerness, licking and parting your folds with his tongue. He pins you against his face, tightening his hold on you as your body trembles.

"Fuck, you taste so fucking sweet-"

"JOEL!" Tess's voice reverberates through the hallway, the urgency evident in her heavy-footed approach, each step echoing past your office door. "Has anyone seen him?!"

Joel lets out an exasperated groan, his head dropping onto your lap as you suppress a giggle. "Duty calls, Mr. Miller. Can't keep your boss waiting, can you?"

"I am the boss, just so you're clear on that."

"Sure, Joel, keep telling yourself that."

Joel crawls out from under your desk with a grunt, stumbling onto the carpet with a thud. "I'm definitely too old for this shit," he mutters, trying to regain his footing.

"It's your list, Mr. Miller. You make the rules, I just help you execute it," you quip, smirking as you extend a hand to help him up.  

He takes your hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He yanks you towards him, and you end up falling into his lap. "Right where I want you," he smirks, capturing your lips in a kiss.  

You smile as he starts to kiss along your jaw. "You are insatiable."

"Only for you, Sugar."

"JOEL, FOR FUCKS SAKE!" Tess bellows from across the building.

"You better go before she breaks down all the doors," you wince as you give him a small frown. "Again."

Joel sighs, pressing one last kiss on your forehead. "Fine, but once I'm done with Ms. Pain in my ass-"

"You're going to go back to work like a good boy?" you reply sweetly, straightening out your skirt as Joel heads towards the door. He gives you one last glance as he turns the doorknob, a hungry look on his face.

"This isn't over, baby girl. When I come back, I expect to eat."

Ten years earlier. 

"Joel! Tommy! Thank you so much for coming! Please, come in, come in!"

Joel straightens up and smooths out his flannel, nervously fiddling with his tool belt slung taut on his hips. He gives a curt nod to the client, turning to his side expecting to find Tommy next to him. His eyes narrow at the empty space. "Tommy, you fuck," he hissed under his breath at his brother, who was casually smoking a cigarette off to the side of the client's perfectly manicured lawn. "Put that out and stop fucking around, we're getting paid for this shit!"

Tommy takes a long drag, exhaling a long plume of smoke before flicking the cigarette onto the street. "This is small-time shit, Joel. We should be playing with the big dogs, not wasting our time doing residential work. How much was the bid?"

"20."

"Bullshit. This is no more than 5, and you know it. It's just a fucking scorched roof, and at only one side, it's not even a complete replacement."

Joel scoffs at his brother, his eyes narrowing in irritation. "Have you seen the size of this fucking house? We're in fucking Westlake Hills, for fucks sake. Think of the potential! Maybe we can convince them to replace the entire roof, replace their windows... fuck, I just want to make a good impression!"

"Oh, so is that why you're dressed like a fucking moron? Cowboy boots? Really? You're 46, not 26." he appraises him as he makes his way towards the front of the house. "Don't tuck in your shirt, man. I can see your fucking beer belly from here!" Tommy looks towards the front door, the client having already retreated into the home. He cocks his head and whispers to his older brother. "Is the wife hot? Shit. Maybe I should have run a comb through my hair-"

"They want this project done in a month." 

Tommy whips his head towards Joel. "Are you fucking KIDDING ME? JOEL-"

"Boys!" The client's voice cuts through the building tension between the brothers, a sweet conspiratory smile on her face. "Are you coming?" She looks out into the distance beyond the brothers, a big smile blooming across her face. "Oh, Sugar! come and meet the boys who are fixing up the roof, you know, the side where your antenna thing exploded?" She beckons to the figure who was suddenly behind them, motioning her to join their conversation.  

She's a sweet little thing, Joel muses, all nerves and jitters like a baby calf attempting to walk for the first time. So fucking cute, he thinks to himself. You were dressed for the brutality of the Austin summer, with barely there cut-off shorts and a tiny white baby tee, the sweat forming on your skin wetting the thin fabric, and if Joel looked hard enough, he swears he saw the outline of your nip-"

"Baby," the client rings out, forcing Joel to look away in embarrassment, a blush forming on his neck all the way up to his face. "You remember Joel Miller, the contractor we ran into in the mall?"

"Yeah. I remember. Hi, Mr. Miller."

You cringed as you approached, your head downcast as you awkwardly reached your overbearing mother. "Tommy, come and meet my daughter, we call her Sugar, because she's so sweet! She's back home from UT Dallas, she's working her way up to her master's in IT! We're all so proud of-"

"Mom," you whine, glaring at the ground as you shift around uncomfortably. "I don't think they care about what I'm doing at school."

"Don't be silly, Sugar," the mom chided with a dismissive wave. "These fine gentlemen surely appreciate a smart, capable woman, right, Joel? Tommy?"

Joel, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected introduction, nodded with a friendly smile. "Absolutely, ma'am. Education is valuable, and we're glad to have such esteemed company. It's hard enough to go through earning your bachelor's, I'm sure it's hell trying to navigate trying to get your masters!" Joel clears his throat as he gives her a nervous smile. "You look great, by the way. You look well rested, I reckon this break is doing you some good."

Tommy, giving Joel an amused look, chimed in. "Smart is the new sexy, Sugar. Nothing to be shy about. I agree," Tommy winks at his brother as his smile widens at Joel's nervous shuffling. "Joel sure likes them smart and capable, alright."

You blushed, still uncomfortable with the attention. "Well, uh, nice to meet you, Tommy, and it's nice to see you again, Joel," You mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

"Pleasure to see you again too, Sugar," Joel replies.  

Tommy chokes on nothing as he witnesses his brother taking the girl's hand in his, placing a soft kiss on it. 

"Oh, brother of mine," he whispered to himself, shaking his head at seeing how smitten his brother was for you. "For fucks sake, what the hell am I going to do with you?"

Six Months and One Week ago.

"Sugar? Is that you?"

You turn towards the deep voice, smiling at the body that it's coming from. "Mr. Miller, it's nice to see you again. Thank you so much for this opportunity-"

"I heard from your mother that you got that Masters, I'm proud of you, girlie."

"Oh," you stammer, "It was nothing-"

"Don't do that," Joel says with a frown, shaking his head in disappointment.  

"Do what?" you ask, matching his frown as he steps towards you. You can't help but gasp at his sudden boldness. You keep your hands glued to your sides, willing yourself to not reach out to his chest. You forgot just how much he affected you, even if it's been a decade since you've seen him last. He's older, sure, with strands of grey peppered throughout his curly hair... but he's different too, the remnants of his boyish charm morphing into something harder, more rugged, more broad. You tremble under his scrutiny. You force yourself to meet his heavy gaze. "Do what?" you repeat out louder, your voice getting caught in your throat as you push an errant strand of hair away from your face. 

"You shouldn't downplay yourself like that. Earning something like your Master's is a big deal, don't sell yourself short like that, okay?"

You grant him a small smile. "Okay."

Joel, satisfied with your answer, nods. "Want to grab a cup of coffee with me?"

Six Months Ago.

"Are you sure she's good? Joel! Are you fucking listening?" Tess snaps, her fingers snapping for emphasis as Joel jolts in surprise. "It says here that she's been working at the Geek Squad for the last eight years; that's hardly enough experience to run an entire department—"

"She has her masters in Management Information Systems from UT Dallas, and the person who vouched for her-"

"Yeah, her mother? If she's as old as you, I highly doubt she can grasp what we need... what are we doing Joel? Are we just letting little old rich ladies headhunt for us now? I don't need no privileged priss in some ball gown running IT, we're a multi-million dollar company-"

"... who didn't even have a decent IT department in the first place, and now that Gloria is retiring, shit, Tess-" Joel runs his hands through his hair as he groans in frustration. "... she's better than everyone else we've interviewed, hell- at least we know that she's a lifer, being that she's worked for minimum wage at Best Buy for almost a decade! We have a chance to bring someone in to help out with the draftsmen, shit, she's even proficient in Revit! Tess, level with me: with her knowing that 3D modeling shit - we need her! More than she needs us!"

"So it's not that you want to fuck her, then?" Tess rolls her eyes as she throws your resume on his desk. "Yeah, Tommy mentioned your little high school crush on her, it's funny, you conveniently forgot to mention that-"

"Tess, don't."

"So if we decide to hire her, I won't catch you fucking her in your office? Her office? The conference room, the supply closet..." She glares at him, tipping her head back as she pinches the bridge of her nose in annoyance.  

"For fucks sake Tess, are we hiring her or not?"

Tess rises from her seat, running her hands down her slacks to straighten them, and gives Joel one last glance. With a half-smile, she shakes her head as she heads toward the door. "I'll email her an offer. If she takes it, she takes it... But, I will be starting her off at our base pay."

Joel nods, suppressing the urge to beam as much as he'd like. "That's fine."

"Oh? And Joel?" She pivots back to Joel, hand on the doorknob. "I didn't hear a no. If I catch you guys in my office, I will fucking castrate you, you hear?"

Two weeks ago.

To: Sugar0926@gmail.com

Fr: J.Miller@gmail.com

Subject: About that list...

11:30 am (30 min ago)

Sugar,

Thanks for saving my ass last night. The meeting with The H Hotel went off with a hitch and Tess was none the wiser for my little mishap... no harm, no foul, right? Right.

About earlier today, when you said "Let's do this", was that a "Yes, maybe?" or a "Yes, definitely?" because I would very much like to do this, with you, at your pace, of course. I don't want to pressure you or anything. I'm just fucking excited, you know? You have no idea how much I've wanted to talk to you back then... I let shit get into my head, you know? Fuck. I'm rambling.

Thank you for giving me a chance, Sugar. I promise I will do everything in my power to make it worth your while.

Joel

To: J.Miller@gmail.com

Fr: Sugar0926@gmail.com

Subject: RE: About that list...

11:45 am (0 min ago)

Yes, definitely. Yes to all of it. 

When do you want to start?

One week ago.

[Hey Sugar, are you busy?] 

Not at the moment, I'm about to clock out for lunch, what's up? Did you click on a phishing link again?

[Sugar, have a little faith! Say, I'm about to head out to lunch too, meet me in the parking lot in 5?]

That's rather forward and presumptuous of you, Mr. Miller. What if I had already brought lunch from home? What if I was looking forward to eating my adult lunchable?

[What the hell is an adult lunchable? It sounds terrible! What if I take you to that little Sushi joint down the road? Would that be enough to convince you to come out with me? I'll let you snack on the lunchable on the way there.]

Hey! Don't knock my charcuterie! Also, Doesn't that "little sushi joint" have a two-month waiting list? It's impossible to get in! I thought that it was only open for dinner?

[Baby, don't you know that we built that restaurant? Masayoshi is a good friend of mine, and he owes me a favor. All it takes is one call, what do you say? Nothing's impossible for my Sugar.]

Nothing's impossible for my Sugar. Sugar. My Sugar.  You read Joel's message over and over again, your stomach growling as you contemplate the current state of your life. If someone had told you six months ago that you would manage to not only crawl your way out of the depths of Geek Squad hell, snag a decent job, and catch the eye of your hot-as-fuck boss, you would have laughed in their face at how ridiculous that sounded. It is ridiculous - how one little mistake led to having everything you could have possibly wanted out of your minuscule life, hot man included. So what if you haven't had a serious relationship since college? It's not like you were with your ex long enough for you to go all the way, and even then, you weren't remotely even into him, he was too skinny and nerdy and didn't scream 'man' at all. His nervous laughter and awkward shaking did nothing for you. Joel, on the other hand- now that was a man. A man you wouldn't mind climbing like a tree, all thick and firm and sturdy...

[Sugar? You still there? Are we doing this or not?]

You snap out of your daydreaming, your decision already being made. Your hands shake as you type out your response, your fingers striking the keys with a finality that you never would have thought you would ever have the courage for.  Well, you think to yourself as you press enter.  Here goes nothing...

I'll be right there. See you soon.

[That's my good girl.]

"Hey, Sugar," Joel greeted with a playful grin from the driver's seat of his F-150, his arm casually resting on the open window. His eyes lingered on you as if savoring the moment. "Hop in, Masayoshi is heading over to the restaurant now."

You rolled your eyes with a teasing smirk as you approached the passenger side, clamoring into the cab with a bit of awkward grace. "Just like that? A single call to your chef friend, and he drops everything to cater to your every whim? Color me impressed, Mr. Miller."

Joel chuckled. "Well, what can I say? I am sort of a big deal." He reached for your hand across the center console, fingers intertwining, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin. "Is this okay, Sugar?" He lifted your hand to his lips, planting a gentle kiss. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a delightful flutter in your stomach. Turning your head away, you mumbled, "It's very okay, Mr. Miller."

"Now, what did I tell you?" Joel teased, a glint in his eyes. "It's Joel, none of this Mr. Miller nonsense. Save that for when we're crossing off items on my list, alright?"

You couldn't help but laugh nervously, a blush creeping up your cheeks as Joel's easy charm and forwardness caught you off guard. "You're going to be the death of me, Joel," you quipped, half-jokingly, half-serious, unsure how to navigate the sudden closeness. The air in the truck seemed to hum with a subtle tension, and you wondered if Joel could sense the rapid beating of your heart.

Joel's gaze held a playful sparkle, and he grinned. "Well, Sugar, I hope it's a good way to go." He revved the engine, and the truck rumbled to life as he pulled out onto the road. 

"So, Sugar, tell me something interesting about yourself," his fingers tapping the steering wheel to an imaginary beat.

You chuckled, playing along. "Well, Joel, I like to teach myself new things, I have a British shorthair named Sir Bubbles, you know, because I was obsessed with Bridgerton, And, by the way, it's Mr. Miller only when executing things on your list, right?" you teased, recalling his earlier remark.

Joel shot you a sly grin. "Sharp memory, Sugar. You're catching on quickly."

As you neared the sushi restaurant, the conversation seamlessly transitioned to lighter topics. Joel shared stories about his work, and how it felt working with Tommy and Tess, and you found yourself drawn into his earnestness and honesty. The playful banter continued as Joel made his way towards the edge of town, your cheeks hurting from how easy it was to smile in his company.

Parking the truck, Joel turned to you with a playful glint in his eye. "Ready for some sushi and more of my irresistibly charming company, Sugar?"

You roll your eyes, feigning reluctance. "Oh, the charm? I don't know if I can handle it, Mr. Miller."

He grins, opening your door with a flourish. "Well, brace yourself, because it's coming."

As you step out, Joel pauses, reaching behind your seat. "Wait a sec," he says, unveiling what looks like the botanical equivalent of a small garden. "A little something to brighten up your day."

You raise an eyebrow. "Is this part of the list?"

Joel chuckles. "Maybe."

You hesitantly reach for the massive bouquet, looking at the beautiful mix of colors in awe. "Joel," you breathe, "They're beautiful." 

"The woman at the shop said that certain flowers can have meaning. She asked me about you." He points to the flowers in your hand. "Lilies, well, they mean infatuation. Chrysanthemums, for excitement." He points to the pink rose. "For sweetness and admiration."

"and the carnations?"

"For fascination and enchantment." 

"Joel.. you don't mean that, do you?"

He chuckles. "Oh, I absolutely do, Sugar. Those flowers are just my way of expressing what I already know."

You playfully roll your eyes, holding the bouquet to your chest. "You're quite the charmer, Mr. Miller."

"Only for you," he replies with a wink, taking your hand as you both head towards the sushi restaurant. "After you, baby girl."

After lunch, you and Joel emerge to find the heavens have opened up, rain pouring down in sheets. Joel stops you in your tracks, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of sincerity and mischief.

With a twinkle in his eye, he asks, "Mind if I tick off the first thing on my list?" 

You smile, stepping closer to Joel as he tucks an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, the both of you soaked to the bone.

"Yes please, Mr. Miller."

Taglist: @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat, @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115, @thewiigers,

@auteurdelabre, @quicax3, @casa-boiardi, @amyispxnk, @untamedheart81,

@paleidiot, @bbiophiliaa (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)

As always, dividers by @saradika-graphics

[derangedangel]

Killer Duo - Isaac Lahey

Summary: Lydia’s throwing a Halloween party and your costume coordinates with Isaac’s

Isaac Lahey x Reader

Word Count: 1,591

Author’s Note: Apparently this was in my drafts in 2019 and I finished it in 2020. Why it never got posted, I’m not sure. The timing of this is funny cause I’m currently at work dressed as the character Isaac is dressed as. Anyway, reblogs and comments are appreciated. Happy Halloween!

“Lydia, I haven’t dressed up for Halloween since I was 12,” you said walking around looking at all the creepy Halloween decorations.

“And this is a costume party. You have to dress up or you can’t go,” Lydia replied walking in front of you heading straight for the costumes. 

“I have no idea what I should be. And most Halloween costumes for women are sexy now, which really means they’re short and inappropriate, and I am not doing that.”

The strawberry blonde rolled her eyes. “You haven’t even looked at any costumes yet and your already jumping to conclusions.”

“I’m just pointing out facts. Halloween used to be fun, then I grew up.”

“And now you’re at the age where you can dress up again,” Lydia smiled at you. “There’s just no candy this time.”

“So what’s the point,” you joked.

“Just come on,” Lydia said grabbing your arm pulling you towards the superhero costumes first. 

The two of you began to look through the racks of clothes. You ran a mental checklist of everything that wouldn’t work for you. 

Batgirl? No.

Iron Man? No.

Elastigirl? Hell no.

“Oh, what about Wonder Woman,” Lydia asked holding up the iconic armor for you to see. 

“Ehh,” you said fidgeting on your feet, “I don’t feel comfortable having my ass out.”

“Okay,” Lydia said sighing at how difficult you were making this. She stood next to you scanning the the other costumes in the superhero section and decided you were going to like any of them.

“What about a witch,” she asked.

“I guess I could be that,” you replied halfheartedly.

“No, I don’t want you buying something you don’t love. That’s the number one rule in fashion.”

“Lydia, why don’t you just look for your costume and I’ll find mines. I don’t want you to keep pulling outfits and I hate them all.”

Lydia turned and faced you. “Honey, I bought my costume weeks ago. No one is going to be wearing the same thing as me at my own party.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Duh, I should have known you already had your costume ready to go.”

“Yes, so this trip is all about you, my dear,” Lydia said tapping you on the nose making you smile. 

“Fine,” you replied. “Well, let’s go look at something a little more spookier then.”

_____________

“Barbie, eat your heart out.”

Lydia walked up behind you in the mirror and nodded. “You look good.”

“I look killer,” you laughed and Lydia smiled shaking her head. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror admiring your white dress, leather jacket, and combat boots. You grabbed your eyeliner pencil and added the final touch. Tiffany’s mole. 

Perfect.

As soon as you saw the Bride of Chucky costume, you knew you needed it. Lydia was just happy you didn’t go with Chucky so you didn’t mess up her bathroom adding all the wounds and fake blood on your face. 

About an hour later, the party was well under way and you already made your first rounds with Lydia. Now she off doing other hostess duties and you were people watching against the wall.

You saw Isaac across the room and smiled to yourself. You excused yourself through the crowd as you made your way across the room.

“Hey, Isaac. Nice costume,” you greeted, looking up at the tall burette in front of you. Well, he wasn’t brunette right now. He was wearing a red wig and a pair of Good Guys overalls. You snickered to yourself. Of course the guy you had a crush on would be dressed up as Chucky. He was basically the salt to your pepper.

“Thanks,” Isaac said, a grin lining his face. “And you are a... biker bride?”

You looked at Isaac confused and shocked. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“What,” Isaac smiled confused at your response. “Should I know who you are?”

“Yes,” you said laughing. You gawked at him as you held up your plastic bloody knife and pointed to your “Tiff” necklace. His eyebrow furrowed in confusion.

“I’m Tiffany...”

Isaac shook his head still lost.

“The Bride of Chucky...”

“Sorry. Still don’t know who that is.”

“Oh my God. Isaac, how are you dressed up as Chucky but don’t know who Tiffany is?”

Isaac shrugged. “Honestly, I wasn’t planning on wearing a costume, but Lydia said I had to, then showed up to Scott’s house with this.”

You shook your head, laughing to yourself. “Of course she did.”

“Am I missing something,” Isaac asked wanting in on the joke.

“Lydia knew I was dressing up as Tiffany and she made you be Chucky... we’re basically a couple’s costume.”

“We are,” Isaac asked, his eyebrow raised and smirk slowly growing on his face.

“Uhh, I- I mean sorta,” you replied fidgeting where you stood. “Especially, now when we’re standing next to each other.”

Isaac took a step closer to you. “So I guess I better keep you close then.”

You’re eyes grew big but before you could response you were interrupted. 

“There you two are,” Lydia said walking up to you and Isaac. Her blonde ponytail wig bouncing with each step she took. She definitely was the only I Dream of Jeannie here. You doubted if most of the party even knew who she was, but they all knew she looked good. “Well don’t you look cozy together.”

“Lydia,” you said a little too sweetly for anyone’s liking. “I hear we have you to thank for Isaac’s costume.”

“What,” Lydia asked like she didn’t basically have you and Isaac in a couple’s costume. “I couldn’t have him come to my Halloween party not dressed up.”

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed crossing your arms over your chest.

“Anyway, everyone’s outside so we can take a group pic before anyone is too intoxicated to do it later.” 

“Lydia,” Stiles yelped running up. “Oh, hey guys,” he said waving to you and Isaac. You smiled and waved back before he began talking to Lydia. He was dressed up as Captain Tony Nelson, the perfect couple’s costume to Lydia’s Jeannie. “Um, so, I may or may not have gotten my Captain’s hat stuck on the roof... okay I definitely did. But it was Scott’s fault!”

“Seriously, Stiles,” Lydia fumed. “God,” she whispered under her breath shaking her head before turning to you. “Give it about ten minutes before the picture so I can get his hat down.” 

You laughed nodding your head. “Okay.”

The couple walked away, leaving you alone with Isaac. “Um, I’m going to go get something to drink. See you outside in ten?”

“Yeah,” Isaac said, giving you a slow and sexy smile. 

You turned and headed for the kitchen, letting out a long breath as you did. Isaac’s whole existence was driving you crazy. Although you did like the blue eyed boy, and you’ve been wanting something to happen for a while, he was making you incredibly nervous. You’d rather avoid him instead of potential embarrassing yourself. 

After you filled your red solo cup with the fruity punch being served, one of your classmates came up to you.

“Hey Y/N, cute costume.”

“Thanks!”

“I didn’t know you and Isaac were a thing.”

“Huh,” you asked confused.

“The couple’s costume,” they said hesitantly. “Chucky and Tiffany.”

“Ohh, duh” you said to yourself when you realized. “We’re not dating. We just happened to wear costumes that went together.”

“Oh... well, the two of you look good together,” they said shrugging then walked away.

All your friends were already outside ready to take the picture. Lydia handed her phone to the designated photographer, then went to stand next to Stiles. Scott was in the middle, with Kira next to him. Malia was next to Kira, while Stiles and Lydia were on the other side of Scott. You stood next to Malia, throwing your arm over your friend’s shoulder. Isaac stood near Stiles. 

After two pics were snapped, Lydia went to check the photos. She grabbed her phone, then looked up at the group. “Somethings not right...,” she said out loud, thinking to herself. “I know!” She grabbed Isaac by his arm and pulled him over to where you were standing. “That’s better. You’re costumes go together, so it makes sense,” she said smiling. She mumbled a quick you’re welcome to you before she handed the camera back over and went back to her place next to Stiles.

The person taking the pictures counted down “3, 2, 1,” then snapped a pic. But before you got to one, Isaac grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him. You shrieked in response then started laughing. 

“Okay, now a funny one,” Scott yelled so everyone could hear. 

Isaac didn’t hesitate, quickly picking you up bridal style. You yelped, then immediately stuck your tongue out at him. Lydia’s phone flashed as the picture was taken, then everyone stopped doing their poses, but Isaac didn’t put you down.

You giggled before you spoke. “You can put me down now, Isaac. The picture’s over.”

“I said I should keep you close. So that’s what I’m doing,” he said smiling down at you in his arms. “And besides, if we’re next to each other people will think we’re a couple, so no guy will ask you to dance.”

You titled your head to the side, your eyes squinted slightly. “But we’re not a couple.”

“Give it a few weeks.”

Your mouth dropped in a silent gasp, slowly turning into a huge grin. You heard Kira giggling behind you and Stiles’s “yuck.”

[fastlikealambo]

Does The Wolf Apologize? || Qimir x Black!Fem Reader 

Summary: You’ve come back from a mission and The Sith is pleased. The lines between acolyte and master have been blurring between you two ever since he revealed his face but for tonight he will show you just how pleased he is.

Trigger Warnings: PinV, Consenting Force Choking, just fucking.

18+ minors dni.

TEASER CAUSE I DIDN’T WANNA LEAVE YALL WITH NOTHING TONIGHT

Please REBLOG my work if you can, I'm not sure what tags are best as this is a new character!

The head of the jedi was heavier in your hands than the saber on your belt.

You were bone tired, smelled of mud, and had blood under your fingernails but that didn't stop you from depositing the head at his feet.

 “Well done, you have pleased me.” He said, voice deep and automated beneath the helmet but you fell to one knee nonetheless, holding the lightsaber out in front for him to take. 

  “I have given you each and every saber you have asked for without question nor hestitation. Now I wish, no, I need my own, I’m ready.” You said quietly but firmly, standing up on shaky legs and began to remove your dirty coat and bag.  

  “You’re hurt.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

A click and a small woosh of air signaled that the helmet was off and even now, you dared not to turn around despite knowing the visage behind your back.

 Before you could remove the rest of your bloody clothing, you felt a tug in the Force, sliding you across the room to outstretched hands.

   “Forgive me, I’m tired, I don’t know what I’m saying.” You said softly as he gripped each side of your shirt and ripped it, exposing your bloody and burned back. 

  “What have I said about apologizing?” He asked,bending you over the counter to inspect your injuries. The pain was gone so quickly you moaned in relief, earning a chuckle from your mentor as he kept you bent over. 

 “Mice apologize, sheep apologize, we do not.” You recited. 

He pulled your pants to your ankles, healing the cuts and bruises there before looking up at you.

“How did it feel when you took the jedi’s head?” He asked, head cocked to the side, thumb absentmindedly rubbing up your thigh while he checked to see if he had missed any wounds.

“It felt safe, like no one could hurt me ever again, it felt powerful.” You muttered.He stood to his full height,calloused fingers tilted your chin to look into his eyes.

“And do you want power?”

  “I’m your equal. My training as your acolyte is over, you and I both know that, but my life, living freely by your side, has just begun. I want power and freedom but whether I do it without or without you depends on you. I pleased you?”

 “Yes.”

“Then prove it.” 

With a flick of his hand, the sith sent you flying through the air, landing on top of the table, legs open. He took his time striding over to you, cape thrown to the side.

  “You still have so much to learn.” He said,slowly climbing on top of the table, your hips lifting without your control but with your consent into position.  

 “My next lesson is to make you whimper, do you understand me?” He asked, his hand slowly closing into a fist and air escaped your lungs. 

“I understand.”

On their own, your underwear slid from your legs and his cock slid in you. In complete control of your airway and your pussy, the sith smiled.

“Then let’s begin as equals.”

need to fix the ending so the rest will be posted tomorrow!

[totheblood]

true blue. (one)

pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader

summary: ellie has a new philosophy: don't fall in love and you won't get your heart broken. ellie also has a really cute new friend. ellie admires some birds in this chapter idk if thats significant

warnings: 18+ (as a general rule for this series and my blog as a whole) suggestive themes, eventual smut, drug/alcohol usage, cursing, descriptions of abusive behavior (neither ellie or reader engages in these behaviors)

a/n: i am hoping to make this a series if enough people like it and want me too... i really appreciate support and feedback through asks and replies/reblogs, it all means so much to me. also i have this whole thing planned out and i plan for it to be very messy hehe... i love drama idk

This year was going to be different.

At least that’s what Ellie told herself as she gripped the straps of her worn out backpack. All of the classes her and Cat had planned to take together this semester she had quickly transferred out of by the end of the summer, causing her to rack up an impressive list of classes on her schedule nobody wanted to take. 

“Fuck,” Ellie cursed under her breath as she rushed towards the building her literature seminar was in. “I’m going to be so late.” She was practically cursing herself for waking up so late that morning, her bed seeming much more welcoming than the professor who had 1 star on ‘rate my professors.’ She knew she had fucked up, but at this moment she didn’t really care.

As she made her way down the chestnut lined hallway, she frantically checked the door numbers on each door, cursing each time the door number didn’t align with the one she was supposed to be in. When she did find her classroom at the end of the hallway, she had to steady herself with a few deep breaths before entering. Throughout all of this, however, one thought rang clear through her mind: Fuck Cat.

Ellie never really liked to refer to herself as heartbroken, but that was the nicest way she could put the state that Cat had left her in. Ellie always knew she liked girls and while she had many crushes, and a few kisses, Cat was her first real girlfriend. She was the first person to hold Ellie’s hand in public, post lame birthday posts on Instagram, and the first person to give her an orgasm. But if she was being really honest with herself, her first orgasm belonged to her own hand.

Cat had served as a turning point in Ellie’s life and up until this point she was almost certain  that she had been in love with her. Almost. There was always this sinking feeling that whatever feelings she had for the girl was most likely orchestrated by pure hormones. She couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was that made her feel that way, but there always seemed to be something missing from their relationship. 

Little to Ellie’s knowledge, however, was that was just who Cat was. She made you feel like you were on top of the world, the only person in the universe who could cure her ills, and the only person who got her. She made you feel special, and at the time, that was exactly what Ellie was craving. She needed a person who looked at her like she aligned the stars, and that person was Cat.

Until it wasn’t. Quickly towards the end of the summer Cat got bored and all of the love notes Ellie had written her were quickly discarded within an hour of reading them. She continued to pull away until there was no trace of her left in Ellie’s life. To make matters worse, she broke up with Ellie over text, leaving her dazed and confused. There was nothing left for her to do except to run to Dina’s house and cry in her lap. She hated how pathetic she looked as Dina stroked her hair and shooed Jeese off with the flick of her hand. It was safe to say Ellie was completely over relationships.

Fuck Cat, she thought again, but decided that it being a thought wasn’t enough.

E: Fuck Cat.

D: yea fuck that bitch

Deciding that the text had done enough to calm her nerves, she pushed through the threshold into the classroom. She must’ve not realized how intimate of a class this was when she signed up for it because as she entered all ten of the people in the room now locked eyes with her, and the old man sitting at the front of the table threw her a disappointed look.

“Ellie Williams, I presume?” he questioned, looking at his roster in front of him.

“You do presume.” She awkwardly answered, only receiving a chuckle from a girl sitting at the far end of the table. Ellie looked up to see who it was that laughed at her poorly timed joke but just saw you trying to hide the smile on your face by pretending to write notes.

“You can sit at any open seat, I was just discussing the syllabus.” He told her, his tone sharp. 

“Okay, thanks.” Ellie mumbled under her breath, moving to sit at the open seat next to you considering you seemed like you might be the friendliest person in this room. She quickly moved to get her notebook out but internally cursed herself out for the fifth time that day because she completely forgot her pencil case in her dorm. She decided to save herself the embarrassment of asking if anyone had a pen, so she just continued to ruffle through her bag even though she knew it wasn’t there.

“You looking for something?” you leaned over to whisper to her, still causing her to jump back slightly.

“Yea, a pen?” She whispered back, laughing under her breath to pretend like she wasn’t completely embarrassed right now.

“Here.” A black pen balanced in between your fingers as you offered it to her. She sheepishly thanked you before taking it, making sure your fingers didn’t touch. 

“There will be one main assignment in this class as you can see on the syllabus.” Ellie, obviously not in her element, looked around at all the packets each person was holding. As if you could sense the nerves on her, you shoved your packet in between the both of you, pointing to the assignment the professor was discussing. 

“It is a partner based project and since there are only ten of you I hope this won’t be an issue.” He continued on. “And as you can see it is worth 60% of your grade.” Fuck this, Ellie thought to herself yet again, and fuck Cat too, she added for good measure.

The rest of the 90 minute class went as well as you could imagine, Ellie only having to stop herself from falling asleep three times. When the class was over and she began to collect her things Ellie looked over to where you were stuffing your laptop into your backpack. 

“Hey,” she managed to get out, her fingers fidgeting with her rings. “Would you want to be partners for the project?” 

You let out a breath of relief smiling both to her and yourself. “I would love that actually.” 

“Ok, good.” Ellie chuckled to herself about how nervous she was over something so small “I thought you might’ve thought I was like super unprepared or something since I was late and the pen.” Her eyes widened the pen. “Oh shit, your pen.” Ellie moved to take her backpack off and give back your pen but you abruptly stopped her by placing your hand on her forearm. Your hand right over the very spot Cat had tattooed. 

“Keep it,” you offered her a genuine smile before handing your phone over to her “and put your number in here.” 

Ellie may not have noticed it but she blushed. A part of her knew you were just being kind and you needed her number to work on the project but if this was any other setting this would be considered flirting. Ellie nervously took your phone in her hand and inserted her number and name with a little planet emoji next to it. When she handed the phone back to you she scanned your face for a reaction, smiling to herself when she saw your very own smile. 

“Ellie,” you looked back up at her “nice name.” All Ellie could do was let the tips of her ears turn red as she thanked you. When you offered her your own name and she repeated it back to you, she liked the way it felt on her tongue. She wondered what you wou- No, she wasn’t doing this again.

“I’ll text you tonight about getting started.” You informed her, now slinging your own bag over your shoulder.

“Looking forward to it.” She stated simply, her own feet planted to the floor.

“I presume you are.” You replied with a giggle before turning around and leaving Ellie feeling fuzzy.

Fuck.

The rest of Ellie’s day was uneventful to say the least. She saw a few birds eating a sandwich and thought it was cute, but besides that (and you), her day was boring. She was hoping that this year would be different, that she would be miles ahead of where she was when she met Cat, but she knew she was just worse. She wanted anything, a rebound, a distraction to pull her mind off Cat but all she could do was stare at her ceiling and try not to cry. Or that’s what she was doing until her phone buzzed from it’s place on her stomach.

Y: hey, it’s me

E: Who's me?

Y: pen dealer, duh

E: I thought dealers were supposed to be more discreet.

Y: you know a lot about dealers?

E: I’ve seen a few movies.

Y: nothing is like the movies, be fr

Y: anyways, do you want to meet up to discuss the project tomorrow? we could meet at beans?

E: Yeah, sure. 10?

Y: sounds good, bring cash

E: For? I use apple pay.

Y: for the pens… it was a joke nvm

E: Dumb joke.

The next morning Ellie had to drag herself out of bed so she wouldn’t be late to meet you. She groaned as she watched her roommate sleeping peacefully in her bed while she so desperately wished it could be her. For some reason that she couldn’t place, Ellie found herself smoothing down her hair and checking her teeth in the mirror. She even sprayed some perfume before she left, coughing as she accidentally inhaled some of the liquid. Why was she doing this again?

She saw you through the window of the coffee shop, leaned over your computer screen lost in thought. You tucked your pen between your lips and Ellie couldn’t help but feel like a freak staring at you from the other side. You looked so at peace with your hair tied up and your eyes carefully scanning the screen. Ellie wondered what it would feel like to not have a million things going through your mind at once. 

When she approached you she made a mental note of how your eyes lit up when you saw her. You had known her for a second and you had already looked at her with more adoration that Cat did towards the end of their relationship. 

“Hey, customer.” You joked, as you watched Ellie sit down across from you. 

“You don’t know how to let a joke die, do you?” She questioned jokingly, a warm feeling in both her face and her chest.

“I do not.” You said matter of factly.

The two of you discussed the project, throwing in occasional conversation and jokes when the material got too daunting. After about an hour had passed and the two of you were already feeling burnt out, Ellie suggested you take a walk around campus to “get some fresh air” and “clear your heads.” In reality, she was already growing tired of this project and just wanted to hear your voice ramble on about something other than American Literature.

It was a cool day, and the slight breeze caused both you and Ellie to squint the entire time. There was something so calm about the energy between the two of you. It wasn’t passionate or overwhelming like it was with Cat, but comforting. It was lulling Ellie into a sense of security, but she knew it couldn’t last long. 

“Where are you from?” Ellie spoke up. “Did you grow up around here?”

“Close-ish, I guess.” You answered. “I’m from a town north called Star Valley.” 

“Oh shit, you’re right by Jackson.” Ellie exclaimed. 

“Yea, you’re from Jackson?” The idea that you too lived this close and this was your first time meeting almost seemed criminal to Ellie.

“Yeah, me and my friends grew up there. I’m originally from Boston, though, I moved there with my..” You gave her time to speak, it being painfully obvious she was going to have trouble explaining the situation. “Like my dad? He’s not really my dad, he’s just Joel.” She decided to dumb down her complicated relationship with him for the sake of time. You, however, did not try to get any information out of her, or immediately try to get her to be vulnerable with her like Cat did at the beginning of the relationship. You just smiled at her and continued on with the conversation. 

Ellie liked this. She liked being able to have a conversation with a pretty girl that didn’t make her feel like she was tearing herself open just to bond with you. You two were just bonding in the simplest way people could. The sick and sinister part of her, however, was telling her to leave immediately. To avoid the trouble that another heartbreak would bring her. 

That part of her was starting to win over slowly as she remembered the promise she made to herself. She quickly excused herself and told you she would text you about meeting up again to work on the project. Her brain was telling her run, run, run, but she could tell you were still standing there staring as she walked away towards the direction of her building. 

Later that night, after a cool shower and a few hits of her pen, Ellie found herself ranting to Dina over text again.

E: I’m so fucked.

D: what???

E: I’m working with this really hot girl on a project for one of my classes and today we were walking together and it all seemed normal, like toooo normal, so I left. Like I no joke was like “Bye” mid conversation and LEFT HER THERE. What is wrong with me?

D: what happened to ‘i’m never talking to another girl again’?

E: I’m not.

D: …

E: I’M NOT.

E: IT DOESN'T EVEN MATTER SHE PROBABLY THINKS I’M A FREAK FOR RUNNING AWAY TODAY

D: true

E: ?????

D: idk why you would do that so i’m not going to lie to you

D: i would think you are a freak

E: Ok, fuck you.

D: what does she look like?

E: Hot. 

D: oh yes thank you for painting such a vivid picture

D: SEND A PICTURE YOU FREAK

E: You are so mean to me.

Ellie felt the need for validation so she did what any normal person would in that situation: she went to instagram and typed in your full name. To her surprise, there you were, smiling as bright as the sun in your profile picture. Ellie suddenly felt like a kid again scanning through your photos, blushing and smiling to herself as she looked at you, losing focus of her original motive. She didn’t realize how far she had scrolled down until she was stopped by the sight of a familiar face. In a post dated over a year ago it was you kissing another girl. 

And that girl was Cat.

[coco-loco-nut]

tumblr

pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader

summary: idek, an unedited fluffy short blurb

requests open masterlist

———————

Usually your period isn’t this bad, but your body decided to rebel against you.

“How are you feeling?” Oscar asks, handing you a mug of tea as you are curled up on the couch watching your ultimate comfort movies.

“Like shit,” you groan, ignoring the cramp you just felt.

“I can make you a warm bath, maybe light some candles,” Oscar offers, sitting beside you.

“It’s okay, there is nothing Barbie doesn’t cure. You don’t have to sit here all day with me, go ahead and do your training,” you tell Oscar, watching to watch the old Barbie movies in peace, without Oscar worrying about you. He takes your hint without being hurt about it, he’s a big boy.

Honestly, you don’t know how you ended up with Oscar, he doesn’t really look like any of the princes, and those guys are definitely your type.

When Oscar reappears a few hours later, freshly showered, he notices you scrolling on your phone, humming to the music from the movie.

“Babe, I’m going to order pizza, what do you want?” Oscar asks, opening the app on his phone.

“Hold on, I’m about to get with you,” you say, fully invested in your phone.

“What?”

“This has been the slowest burn ever, but we are finally about to get together, in like chapter 20. I hate slow burns,” you huff.

“Babe, we are already together. You married me?” Oscar says confused. You finish the last paragraph and look at him.

“It’s fan fiction, Osc. You know, on Tumblr,” you show him your phone and his eyebrows are furrowed.

“Why?” is all he can say, unsure of how to react.

“I got bored of writing,” you say, closing the app and refocusing on the movie.

“You write the fan fiction? For me?”

“Ew no. That would be weird. I write for the more popular drivers. You know, Charles, Lando, Carlos, Max, Daniel, Lewis,” you list and Oscar just stares at you. You are literally besties with Lando and Charles, but you don’t write for your own husband? He’s honestly offended.

“What do you mean ew? I think how you scream my name most nights contradicts that,” Oscar smirks, your face flaming.

“That’s why it would be weird. I’ve written it but it will never be published,” you admit, a little embarrassed.

“Anyway, pizza. Yes or no?” you quickly reply yes, hoping to move on from the conversation. That night, once you fall asleep, he scrolls through your account, reading the fan fictions you wrote and reblogged. It’s weird, but he enjoys your writing.

The subject isn’t brought up again until one drunken grid and WAG dinner, where Oscar drunkenly blurts it out.

“Y/n’s written fan fiction about us,” he says and all the guys look at you.

“The girls love it. Some of your antics make for great stories,” you defend yourself.

“So true, I love reading them,” Kika says, the other WAGs voice their agreement about it.

“What?” Charles is confused, but Lando, being the child he is, gets excited.

“Which one of us gets the most written about?” he asks and none of you waste a second replying.

“Charles,” the answer is in unison, causing the Monegasque to blush. None of you will admit that Lando is a close second.

Over the next week, you get random texts from them, asking which ones you wrote, but also their thoughts on different ones. Charles is appalled and flattered by the amount of smut written for him. Lando and Daniel are the opposite, they love the smut and how they’re talked up. They also told you that they got ideas from some of them, causing you to want to bleach your eyes out.

Eventually, they found out which account was yours, sent it to each other, and started spamming your inbox with requests. Lando’s tend to be about him winning a WDC, poor guy can barely win as is.

After a week of them spamming your inbox with requests, you decide to post an announcement on your account.

Dear readers,

Unfortunately my account has been outed. I know you all love my works and when I post some behind the scenes information about GPs. Sadly, my friends who work in an important role in F1 found my account and it no longer feels right to write this anymore out of respect for them.

Thank you all ❤️

↪️ user1 she knows a driver doesn’t she

↪️ user2 or an engineer

↪️ cl16racer don’t stop 😢

↪️ y/username sorry buddy, it’s time

↪️ oscarpastryy yeah, it’s a little weird now

↪️ landomorewins it doesn’t have to be!

“Wow, the guys are really torn up about it,” you laugh, Oscar’s arms around you as you cuddle on the couch. You had been thinking about stopping writing them anyway, so it was just a good excuse.

“I just wish you’d publish what you wrote about me,” Oscar kisses the side of your head.

“That’s far too dirty and intimate. It’s what I read when you are away,” you say with a blush. “You can read it if you want,” you hand him your phone. He holds the phone where you can both read it, his other hand running up and down your side absentmindedly at first but more intentionally the longer you read, until you aren’t reading anymore. That might’ve been some of your best sex.

“From now on, when you write like that when I’m away, you send it to me. Promise, Mrs Piastri?” Oscar says, kissing you.

“I promise,”

[candycandy00]

Serve Me, Save Me - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 2

After Ryomen Sukuna inadvertently saves you while killing his enemies, you decide to devote yourself to him as a servant. But the trauma from the attack triggers panic when you find yourself in his bed.

Part 1 | Part 2

Smut. 18+. Oral sex. Masturbation. Slow burn. Softer Sukuna than I’ve written before but he’s still a monster. True form Sukuna. Rape and its aftermath feature prominently as a plot device but rape does NOT occur between Sukuna and Reader. Features PTSD, panic attacks, etc.

If you’d like to be tagged in future parts (I have no idea how many there will be), comment to let me know! You must have your age in your bio or intro post or just tell me you’re an adult in the comment! Likes are appreciated but comments and reblogs (especially with feedback in the tags) make me feel all warm and squishy! Seriously any feedback at all is so wonderful! Divider by @benkeibear!

Several days later, when Sukuna went into his bath, he found the same servant preparing the water and laying out fresh robes for him. The heat and the steam in the room had made her skin look dewy, her hair wet. The thin work robe she wore clung to her shape as she moved about the room. 

When she noticed his presence, she bowed, touching her forehead to the floor. “Your bath is ready, my lord.”

He looked down at her as he untied the silk belt around his robe, but before removing the garment, he paused. “You’re the servant who refuses me,” he said. It was not a condemnation, but a statement of fact. If he insisted, she would let him do whatever he wanted. She was too obedient not to. But he didn’t have the patience to deal with whatever trauma that would cause. 

She was otherwise a good servant, keeping the shrine spotlessly clean. Even Uraume had praised her, seeming delighted while reporting that she had organized their spices in a neat and efficient manner and always took care with the plates and utensils while washing them. 

“Go and fetch another servant to attend me,” he said. 

She slowly raised her head. “I can attend you, my lord, if you’ll allow it.”

“I don’t feel like hearing your screeching tonight. Will you go into hysterics again if you see my cocks?”

Her face reddened slightly. “I don’t mind seeing them, my lord.”

He sighed. “Alright then,” he told her, shrugging off his robe. She hurried to retrieve it from the floor, folding it in a quick and deft motion before placing it in a basket by the door. She didn’t stare at his naked form this time, but she certainly wasn’t avoiding it. Her eyes darted all along his body as he sat down on a stone stool and used the readied cloths and soaps to wash himself. 

She didn’t hesitate to come closer, taking a soapy cloth in her hands and using it to scrub his back. He wondered where she’d learned how to wash a man’s back so well, being unmarried. She was using the perfect amount of pressure, moving at the exact speed that felt the most pleasing. 

“You have practice at this,” he remarked. 

“My family owned a bathhouse, my lord. I attended to the customers often,” she said. 

She used past tense. Meaning her family had probably been slaughtered in the attack. Ah well, at least they’d left her with a useful skill. He could feel his muscles relaxing under her ministrations, any tension completely gone. She was very good at this, even knowing the right time to stop and move on to another task without being told. 

She soaped up her hands and then used them to lather his hair. He found himself leaning back slightly, into her touch. He normally washed his own hair, but like with his back, she used skillful motions to make the experience as pleasurable as possible. When finished, she lifted a bucket of warm water as she said, “I’m rinsing now, Lord Sukuna.” Without waiting for his response, and with the practiced ease of someone who had done this countless times, she held the bucket over his head and tipped it forward, spilling the water over his form and washing away the soap. 

He made a mental note to send for her every time he bathed in this village as she stepped around in front of him and offered a warm cloth to wipe his face. She watched him, her eyes flicking down between his thighs. She didn’t look upset or frightened. In fact, she appeared to like looking at his body. 

She lingered in front of him, and when his eyes met hers, her skin looked slightly flushed. “May I… touch you, my lord?”

It was a surprising request, coming from her, but he wasn’t in the mood to tease her. “Do as you wish,” he said. 

She gave a quick bow of thanks, and then got down on her knees, smoothing the fabric of her robe as she scooted in between his spread open legs. She lifted one hand to his upper cock and gripped it softly, her eyes fixed on the organ as it twitched and began to harden under her touch. She stroked it lightly, gently moving her hand up and down the length. His lower cock hardened almost immediately after, eager to be touched as well. She used her other hand to stroke it, using the same rhythm. 

Her feathery touch felt nice, but it was a bit too soft for his taste. “Harder,” he told her, and she looked up at his face. With a hint of a blush on her cheeks, she nodded and took a firmer grip with both hands, moving them up and down at a faster pace. Eventually she paused and looked at his cocks for a moment before leaning forward and licking the upper one, coating it in her saliva. She then went back to stroking the now slick shaft with her hand while she took the lower cock into her mouth. 

The servant’s warm, wet tongue circled the throbbing organ in her mouth, and with her thumb she mimicked the motion on the upper one. Sukuna watched her work, enjoying the way her pretty eyes darted up to his face occasionally, the way her full lips looked wrapped around him. He couldn’t remember the last time a single woman had pleasured both cocks so well at the same time. 

Sukuna leaned his head back, closing his eyes and listening to the wet, slick sounds she was making, feeling her velvety mouth enveloping him, her silky hand stroking him. The lower cock came first, into her hot mouth, and she took in every drop, her throat working to swallow it all. Then, in the next instant, she quickly pressed her tongue to the upper one as it began to shoot out his seed, catching all but a few spurts that landed on her face. 

Looking down at her, he thought she was exceptionally beautiful with his cum dripping from her chin.  She slowly rose to her feet and gave a small bow, then motioned toward the waiting bath. “The water is at optimal temperature now, my lord, if you’d like to enjoy a soak.”

He stood and crossed over to the huge stone basin full of water. Several people could fit inside it at once, but unless someone snuck and used it while he was away, Sukuna was the only person who had ever been in it. He stepped over into the water and lowered himself into it. The water reached his stomach, and was perfectly warmed, with some sort of fragrance drifting into the air. 

As he slid down a bit further into the water and relaxed, he looked at the servant. Across the room, she was wiping her face with a cloth. Her robe was so damp from the moisture in the room that it stuck to her body all over, hugging every curve. After watching her for a moment, he said, “Come join me in the water.”

She lifted her face and looked at him. Several different emotions seemed to flicker in her eyes. Panic, flattery, excitement. But she didn’t move from her spot. 

He sighed. “I won’t touch you.”

Her face seemed to relax. “Thank you, lord Sukuna,” she said with a smile. 

*******************

You opened your thin work robe and slipped it off your shoulders, folding it neatly and dropping it into the basket of used clothing by the door. Fully nude, you walked over to the bath and gingerly climbed into the hot, steaming water. It felt wonderful as you sank down, the water level hitting at just below your breasts. You could slide down further, but you had the feeling lord Sukuna wanted to look at them, so you remained sitting up straight, a few feet away from him. 

“Did the men who attacked you not use your mouth?” he asked suddenly. 

The question shocked you with its abrasiveness. “They did, my lord,” you replied, looking down at the water. 

“And it didn’t bother you to suck my cocks?”

You could feel your face growing hotter. “It didn’t.”

“Hmm,” you heard his voice say. “Then what happened the other night in my bed?”

You glanced up at him. “I think it was being pinned down that triggered the memories of the attack, my lord.”

“I see,” he said, shifting slightly in the water to get more comfortable. “Still, it’s only sex. I don’t understand what’s so frightening about it.”

You’d heard sentiments like that before from other men. “It’s not just sex,” you told him, “it’s a violation. It’s having someone use your body for their pleasure, against your wishes. And in this village, it robs you of your future. I’m a used, broken woman now.”

His eyes had shifted to you again, and you worried that you’d said too much. “What a stupid custom,” he said, surprising you. “Being a virgin does absolutely nothing to increase a woman’s value. If anything, I find them less desirable.”

You blinked, gazing at him with wide eyes. “Really?”

“Of course. What does a virgin know of pleasing a man?”

He probably wasn’t saying it to make you feel better, but you were comforted nonetheless. If the god of your village thought you were still desirable, then maybe you weren’t damaged after all. 

“Thank you for saying so, Lord Sukuna,” you said, dipping your head slightly in a subtle bow. 

He stared at you for a moment, then spoke again. “There’s still one among the attackers of the village I’ve left alive. He’s been useful for extracting information. It would probably be easy to find the families of the men who raped you. I could have them executed or-“

“No, please!” you said, the water around you sloshing as you moved closer to him. When he looked at you curiously, you went on. “I’m glad those men are dead. I’m glad you killed them. But their families did nothing wrong, so I’d like to leave things as they are.”

He shrugged. “If you say so.”

The two of you sat quietly in the water for a while. He laid his head back, and after a few minutes you wondered if he’d fallen asleep. You watched his broad chest rise and fall with his breaths, the water droplets sliding down his neck. He really was glorious. You found yourself rubbing your thighs together under the water. Since the attack, the only times you’d felt aroused were when you with lord Sukuna. 

Silently, careful to avoid disturbing his rest, you slipped your hand down between your legs, then gently rubbed your slick, heated flesh. You’d pleasured yourself occasionally before the attack, but never after. You just didn’t have the urge. Until now, sitting so close to lord Sukuna in the steamy water. 

You pressed one finger inside, leaning your head back and closing your eyes, your breaths hitching in your throat. 

“Enjoying yourself?”

Your eyes snapped open when you heard Sukuna’s silky voice. You looked over to see him wearing a grin. You hastily straightened up in the water. “I’m sorry, my lord, I was just-“

“Don’t stop because of me,” he told you, a look of delight in his red eyes. “Continue if you wish.”

“You’re not offended?” you asked. 

He laughed. “Why would I be?”

“Then, I’ll continue, my lord.” 

Under his crimson gaze, you began touching yourself again, sliding one finger back in, your thumb stroking your clit. Your back arched in the water as you moaned softly. You hadn’t felt this sort of pleasure in so long, and now it was overwhelming. Was it because lord Sukuna was so close, his incredible body almost touching yours? 

You glanced up and met his hungry eyes as you came, your body quivering. You shivered in the water as you came down from the high of your orgasm. The way he was looking at you… it was like he wanted to devour you whole. Something about that thrilled you. 

Later, after you both left the water and dressed in fresh clothes, lord Sukuna turned to you. “From now on, you’ll be my bathing attendant.”

You bowed your head. “It is an honor to serve you, my lord.” 

After he left the room and you began cleaning up, you smiled to yourself. You finally felt like you had a purpose again. And maybe, you thought, you might be called to his bed again some time, and things would be different. Maybe you were beginning to heal. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In Bloom 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, allusions to trauma, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After wasting much of your youth in a toxic situation, things are starting to look up. That’s until you meet a certain flower seller.

Characters: Cole Turner, short!reader

Note: It’s suiting that it's hump day cause I feel like cole is into that.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You slice into a cucumber, moving the knife carefully. As you focus on the task, you notice Aunt Bev’s glances. Are they intentional or is she concerned? You keep the blade steady and slow, sure not to catch your fingertips. 

“Hon, did you want to borrow one of my skirts for dinner?” She offers. 

You look down at yourself. You think the jeans and tee are just fine but now you’re doubting yourself. You blink at her and shrug. 

“Should I?” 

“It’s up to you, of course. Just whatever you’re comfortable in. I just have this nice blue flowery one and it suits you better.” 

“Well, I...” you put the knife down and gather up the cucumber in your hands, dumping it onto the bowl of lettuce, “I could try it on.” 

You grab the dish rag and wipe your hands. You just want to make her happy. You never had someone like Aunt Bev, someone who is happy over the smallest things. She makes everything you do seem like some great achievement. 

“Oh, come on, it’ll be nice,” she insists and gestures you down the hall, “in here.” 

You follow her upstairs to the bedroom she shares with your uncle. She rolls open her closet as she hums. She pulls out a wrap skirt; blue petals on white. 

“You’ll need a shirt to go with it,” she insists, “one sec.” 

She hands you the skirt and turns to sift through a dresser draw. She pulls out a plain chiffon blouse with a little scallop at the bottom. “It will go nicely.” 

“Thanks, uh, but what... what if I spill?” 

“That’s okay, honey,” she holds out the shirt, “you can keep them. They’ll look much better on you.” 

“Oh, uh,” you look down then up again. 

“You just get changed,” she sweeps past you, “I’ll be downstairs.” 

You can’t deny her. The door closes before you can even think of changing your mind. It would be rude to say no anyway. They’re such nice clothes. You look down at what you’re wearing and crumple inside. You made the wrong choice again. You should’ve known to dress up for company. 

You change as quickly as you can. You carry your clothes back downstairs and into the small room you’ve been allotted. It was once Aunt Bev’s craft room. You feel bad about that too. 

You return to the kitchen. She’s not there. You rinse some cherry tomatoes and quarter them on the wooden cutting board. As you do, you hear voices. 

Aunt Bev strolls in as Cole follows her. You don’t turn to see. You’re too shy. You hope he doesn’t even notice you. 

“Oh, honey, you look lovely,” she chimes as she nears the counter and sets down a round pan, “isn’t it wonderful, Cole brought dessert.” 

“Ma sent a pie,” he explains, “do you like rhubarb?” 

You want for Aunt Bev to answer. She doesn’t. You look up and over and realise they’re watching you. Oh. 

“Uh, I never had it.” 

“Never had rhubarb?” Cole blusters, “well good news, my ma makes the best strawberry rhubarb crumble.” 

“Um, oh, thanks,” you try to smile but your lips just strain tightly over your teeth. You turn back to the counter and add the tomatoes to the bowl. 

“Salad looks yummy. Very colourful,” he comes closer. He’s so tall you can’t help but shrink down. “Bev’s right, that’s a really nice skirt. Suits you.” 

“Thanks,” you cheep. 

“Can I help with anything?” He offers. 

You look around him at Aunt Bev. She smiles and gestures as if to say, ‘go on’. You turn back to the cutting board and lay the knife down. 

“I’m almost done,” you say, “no thank you.” 

“Well, when you’re done, honey, why don’t you show him the garden?” Bev suggests, “she has really livened it up, you know? She spends hours out there.” 

“I’m sure. I’m excited to see it,” Cole agrees as he lingers close by, “nice house. Cozy.” 

“Ah, you know, we try to make it home,” your aunt preens. “I didn’t even say how nice you look. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a tie.” 

“Shucks,” he waves her off as he leans on the counter right next to your work space. 

You go to the fridge to get the container of feta and come back to sprinkle it over the salad. 

“Smells delicious too. Did you cook all this?” Cole asks as he looks down at you. 

“No,” you shake your head, “just the salad.” 

“She’s a good helper,” Bev beams and nears, taking the bowl from in front of you, “I’ll just go set this out on the patio table, why don’t you two go check out the garden?” 

“I’d love to,” Cole stands straight, “ladies.” 

He waves ahead of him and you hesitate. You pause to put the feta away then follow Bev towards the sliding doors. She goes out onto the deck and plants the large bowl on the wooden table. She stays there as you drag your feet past. You do your best to keep moving as you feel Cole getting too close. 

You go down the steps, nearly stumbling at the bottom. You cross your arms as you approach the garden where daffodils stand tally among the pansies. He puts his hands on his hips as he steps up. His blue eyes rove over the foliage as he peruses it thoughtfully. 

You peek over at him. He wears pale khakis and a grey button up rolled to his elbows, a trim of teal along the buttons. He wears a tie in a darker shade of grey as his hair is even fluffier than the last time you saw him. You shy away before he can catch you. 

“Wow, it’s so nice, and the placement is wonderful. Great for crossbreeding,” he points around. “You know a lot about plants?” 

“I read,” you say. “Library books. Aunt Bev brings them home.” 

“I love the library,” he chirps. 

“Oh, I don’t... I haven’t gone.” 

“Yet,” he insists, “one day, I’m sure.” 

You nod and fold your arms. You sway and search the grass. He kneels by the edge of the garden and touches a leaf. 

“What happened to your daylilies?” He asks. 

You bounce on your toes, “put them in my room.” 

“Really? You must have petals all over,” he chuckles as he continues to rustle the plants, feeling each one. “Do you have a favourite?” 

“I don’t know, they’re all pretty.” 

You nibble your lip. He talks a lot. He makes you talk a lot. You sniff and squeeze your arms. 

“Don’t get lost out there,” Aunt Bev startles you as she calls from the deck, “I’m about to bring the rest of the food out.” 

“Ah, thanks, Beverly,” Cole waves at her and smiles, turning to look at you, “shall we?” 

“Okay,” you don’t move. He doesn’t either. 

“You go first,” he says. 

You do as he says and he follows. The skirt flutters around your legs, swirling in a way that tickles the back of your knees. You’re not used to it. You never really wore one before.  

As you come up on the deck, he trails you toward the table. He sidles past you and pulls out a chair before you can do it yourself. He opens his hand to the seat, “please.” 

“Uh, thanks, you don’t have to...” 

“My ma always taught me manners,” he assures. 

You sit and he slides the chair toward the table, trapping you in it. He claims the one next to you, his elbow almost on the armrest of yours. You make yourself small. You’re really good at that. You miss when you could be invisible. 

Bev appears again, a long pare of tongs in her hand. She approaches the roiling BBQ and opens it up. As she turns the drumsticks, she smiles over at the table. 

“Don’t you two look ready to eat,” she trills. “I just told the others to come out and get a plate. Just gotta get this chicken and the potatoes.” 

She uses the tongs to transfer the drumsticks to a large serving plate. Cole clears his throat and gets up. He goes to take it from her and brings it to the table. 

“You are just the biggest, sweetheart,” she grins, “your mother must be so proud. Such a lucky lady.” 

“I do what I can,” he says, “don’t want you to burn yourself.” 

“Oh, don’t you worry about me. You do too much of that,” she removes the wrapped potatoes from the grill next, “I can’t thank you enough for helping us last weekend.” 

“Really, it’s fine. It was a very busy weekend,” he meets her again to take the next tray, “I can tell a lost soul when I see one. I figured it was best to get her out of the tide before it swallowed her up. Sometimes I even get overwhelmed.” 

“It really was so amazing,” she insists, “we got more than enough. You make sure you take leftovers for your mother. She sent that lovely pie.” 

“Sure,” he agrees easily as he sets down the potatoes. He sits down once more, further crowding you. Is he that big or that oblivious. “She’s a nice girl,” he peers over at you and you look at the table, “I couldn’t just let her get lost.” He turns slightly in his chair, towards you, “I hope it didn’t scare you away. I have some new stuff I’m bringing next week; thought maybe you’d like to see.” 

“Oh, you know that would be so lovely, honey.” 

“If that’s too much,” Cole leans his elbow on the arm rest and extends his fingers as he speaks, “she could come up and see them at the farm. Right in their natural habitat.” 

“The farm?” Bev exclaims, “how exciting.” 

“Of course, you’re all welcome to come up and see. My ma loves having a full house but my sister never comes around anymore and it was only ever the two of us. She always wanted more but, ah, you know?” 

“That’s too bad,” Bev says, “but that would be so wonderful. Honey, wouldn’t you like to go see all his flowers?” 

“I could use some help potting too, if you have a set of hands to spare,” he suggests. “Not that I’m looking for free labour, I just... figured.” 

“We’d love to help out, wouldn’t we, honey?” 

That’s it. She’s given the answer for you. You can’t disagree with her or you’d be mean. You’re not a mean person. Not like she always said you were. 

“Sure,” you murmur. 

“We’ll make a day of it,” she sings, “just let me know when.” 

“Will do,” Cole says brightly. “Sorry, I’m a dweeb about these things. I don’t really meet a lot of people who like flowers as much as me.” 

“We can all use friends,” Bev goes to the sliding door and pushes it open, “right, hon?” You nod, choked of your voice and she sighs as she pokes her head inside, “where is everyone?” 

🌷

You help clear the table after dinner. You sit down as Cole gets up and you’re relieved to be on your own. The others sit on the other side of the table; Uncle Morris along with your cousins, Mason and Lena. The latter two are on their phones and Uncle Morris chews on toothpick. 

You’re content enough to watch the clouds in the sky. Aunt Bev is so good at keeping things lively but you never know what to say. You don’t really feel safe around anyone but her. She’s the one who found you, who helped you. 

You look down at your hands and the faded welts. There’s more up your forearms and on your legs. They are almost indiscernible, though a few are stark enough to be picked out. You rub your hands together, as if you might wipe them away. Some memories are wrought as much into your skin as your mind. 

The sliding door opens and your Uncle Morris sits up and pats his stomach, “ah, about time. Dessert! The best part of dinner.” 

Bev and Cole dole out the saucers. Yours is placed before you as he sits next to you again. You take your fork and spin it nervously. Morris is quick to dig in as your aunt asks Mason and Lena about school. Their conversation edges you out, but you’re used to that. You prefer it. You never have much to add. 

“You gonna try it?” Cole keeps his voice low as he pokes at his crumble. 

“Oh, uh, sure,” you scoop up some of the reddish pink goop and oats. 

“You have to tell me the truth, if you like the rhubarb. I gotta report back to ma.” 

You nod and take a bite. You don’t like how he watches. It makes you self-conscious. His eyes linger on your hand as you slid the fork from your mouth and chew the tart dessert. Your cheeks pinch and you swallow tightly. You like it. 

“Well?” He nudges you and you wince. “Oh, sorry, are you okay? Was that too hard?” 

“No, I... I liked it,” you put the fork down and try to hide your arms. They’re oversensitive. Most of you is; just brushing against furniture can make you whimper. “Thank you.” 

“Told you, ma makes the best,” he proclaims, but a vee of worry remains between his brows, “you sure I didn’t hurt you?” 

“Yes, I’m sure,” you insist. You have to act normal. 

You grab your fork and take another bite. He continues to watch you, moving the crumble around as he does. You wish he'd stop looking so much. 

“Oh, wow, did that hurt?” He points to the back of your hand. That one scar that stands out. 

“No,” you lie. 

“What happened?” 

You shake your head, “nothing.” 

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you hiss and drop your fork. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“I’m not upset,” your eyes well and you flick your lashes. Your hand throbs. You hear the snap of the switch, you feel it against your tendons. You want to scream but you can’t. “I’m fine, I’m fine...” 

“I...” Cole babbles and looks around. The table is silent as you gulp for air. 

“Oh, hon,” Aunt Bev gets up and comes around to your chair, “have some water, alright?” 

“I didn’t... I don’t know what I did,” Cole stutters. 

“It’s not you, sweetie,” Bev pets your hair as she offers the glass of water. “She’s okay. She was out in the sun today, she gets a bit faint.” 

You want to cry even more. Not just for the embarrassment. Because you’re grateful. Because she lies so easily for you. She protects you like no one else ever has. 

“Can I go inside?” You whisper. 

“Sure, hon, I’ll put your dessert aside for you,” she smiles.  

[bronx-bomber87]

First off thank you much for the lovely response to my last thoughts. I was very nervous about posting and got a lot of good replies, notes and reblogs. This fandom is the best. I think it's important to see both sides and I wanted Tim's to be represented in a way that gave insight without condoning what he'd done. (Cause our boy done messed up.) So giving a little of myself achieved that I believe.

I didn't know a ton about this ep cause I’m a square who stays away from spoilers haha So let’s get started.

6x08 Punch Card

Ugh my heart Tim got a reminder for Lucy’s Bday. Instant heart stomping already….I love that he had a reminder set up though. Making sure he would't forget. I’m crying already. Even though I'm so very sad. I love that he had this setup. When the elevator opens the amount of tension is palpable. Something felt very wrong. Good thing Tim was lost in his Lucy moment or he would've picked up on this sooner.

Poor Tim just wants to explain himself to Mad Dog. To explain what happened. The man is not in a place to receive it and we see later why. That look said it all though when Mad Dog departs. When Dr. London said she just took the wrong elevator my red flag gut was going off.

Now that I've see the episode as a whole I can see Dr. London's play here. She seems to use flirting as a defense mechanism all her own. To protect herself and manipulate those around her. I mean they brought her flirt fest with Aaron in the recap back for a reason I think. She's worried Tim read into something about her interaction with Mad Dog. I mean Tim is clearly upset about seeing him and she uses that to deflect attention off herself. My off meter definitely was kicking on with her. Especially with how flirty she was being I didn't like it.

Now some may see Tim's response as him flirting back but I think he's investigating her. Also he's being a little sassy because he's not comfortable with her doing therapy outside the office. I mean his face when he leaves that elevator is not of a man who just flirted. It's one who is one still hurting and two his cop gut is going off but he isn't sure why....He seems conflicted by what just went down in that elevator. Just like us he was feeling off about her.

This scene was very cute with Grey. I loved him anointing her to be a T.O. LOL Also once again showing the faith he has in Lucy. To train Celina and know she would do a good job. I was excited for this opportunity for her. For her to tap into leadership. Honestly it shouldn't have taken this long for Lucy to get to show her chops with this.

Tim is so busy trying to delete his Lucy reminder he runs into the physical version of it without realizing. Andddddd it’s still awkward af between them. How could It not be? No communication between them so naturally it is. Stilted awkwardness. Lucy got out of there so fast. Even with Tim making the all powerful joke. Trying to make it less awkward. Ow. Couldn't get away fast enough. The way he watches her go. *sigh* Like he's watching his entire heart depart the room.

This hurts you guys. No matter how much I know it’ll be ok at some point this hurts to watch. Grey not pulling any punches noting how very awkward that was. Tim telling him that's actually better than it's been....Makes me wonder how much time has passed between 6x07 and now. Wade not caring that's progress to Tim. He is not messing around....

Just wants Tim to fix is ASAP cause of the team dynamic. He's not wrong. Man isn't wrong. Rarely if ever is. Saying if Tim can't there’s gonna be a transfer and it won’t be Lucy….I mean I LOVE Grey siding with Lucy on this one. Not a doubt in his mind if it shakes out that way it'll be Tim. That being said just hearing that. Ugh. Deep anxiety pit of my stomach. And of course it would be friggin North Hollywood. That damn station been haunting them since S2. Looming over them ready to take one of them away.

Lucy being Celina’s T.O .for the day I love it. She is so excited to be her leader even if it's just for this shift. Just wants to 'Invest in her success.' You know Lucy's leadership is pretty damn identical to how I am with my team. While I am mostly Tim there are pieces of Lucy in me as well. I related to her style of leadership quite a bit.

Aaron and Tim in the surveillance van is hilarious. Their dynamic has always entertained me. I truly adore these two goobers together. Tim is trying so hard to keep his shit together. Aaron dying of ask him if he finds it hard to surveil his old team for an OP? Tim of course gives him the company line. Doing what he is told without complaint. Pulling out some S1 Tim with that reply my love.

Tim then telling him he needs a stronger deodorant LOL It's too funny. What a boring assignment for them both. Tim went from running that entire team. Doing ops and making decisions on the fly to this….Also Aaron being too distracted by his deodorant comment to pay attention is the most Aaron thing ever haha

What I love the most about Lucy with Celina is her correcting without crushing her confidence. Once again reminding me of myself when I'm correcting my work kids on stuff. She is kind but confident in her assessment of what she did wrong in this moment. Celina receiving it well because she handles it this way. Lucy out here crushing it already with zero T.O. training. Just going off instinct and what she would want if she was a newbie still. Once again her and I very alike.

Oh Tim getting that reminder again. *heart clutch.* Sigh my boy. Aaron offering to turn it off for him. I love that he was gonna have it remind him through out the day. Pre-breakup Tim clearly didn't want to forget. Wanted to make sure he not only knew it was but to make sure to make a big deal of it. That's just an assumption on my part but man would've wanted to do that. it's the way he has 'TOMORROW.' Wanting to make sure he didn't forget such an important day. *screams into a pillow.* Aaron asking if he’s gonna get her anything? I’m sure he had stuff in mind. But yeah bad form indeed…

Tim’s sweet smile when he finds out what Aaron got her. Knowing how perfect of a gift that would be for her. That sweet knowing smile makes me wanna weep a bit. He knows his girl so well. Lot of sadness attached to the smile though. 'Can I ask why ya’ll split up?' 'No.' LMAO Took it too far Aaron....You're lucky you got that much good sir.

This scene with Mad Dog hurt my heart for Tim. No matter how wrong he was for what he did I still hate seeing this. This was what I was worried about with him working with Metro. Picking at the wounds he hasn’t even begun to heal about how he left. I knew him making notes on the OP was going to come back and bite him in the ass. Watching all his repercussions is painful to see I have to say. Knowing what we know about Mad Dog later I think that's part of why he goes off on Tim. Doesn't make it any easier to watch though...

Friggin Love Lucy being a BAMF in this episode. Especially in this moment. When she once again corrects but doesn't crush Celina about her gun. It's the way she guides Celina and has control over every situation they encounter in this ep. Proving herself a worthy teacher and leader. Also she was a better teacher to Celina in one episode than Nolan has been her entire career. Dude is a stinker of a T.O. It shows in how Celina makes basic mistakes Lucy had down pat long before this time in her rookie year.

Too bad Lucy can't finish out her training and Nolan is booted. But that'll never happen nothing sticks to that man. Not since S3 premiere. The rules and repercussions are rubber and he's glue. What doesn't stick to him does to everyone else... Grey should really evaluate his teaching skills. But that'll never happen. But she deserves a better teacher than him.

From the minute Tim entered the room something seemed very wrong. From the way Mad Dog was just expecting Tim to flog him. Like he wanted Tim to ream him out for how the OP went down. Also how Mad Dog seemed nervous af to see Dr London. I mean look at that man above. He is scared shitless she is there to see him. The way he watches her though out the scene. Especially when she leaves.

Tim's cop gut is going off like crazy when she enters the room. Wondering how the hell she even know about this? He seems to take her answer at face value because honestly its pretty good considering it's a bold faced lie. Tim once again feeling like something is very off but isn't sure why.

First let me say once again I feel personally attacked by the choice in song once again. lol I couldn't find the song to save my life. The lyrics are *chef kiss.* They're painfully accurate for them both. Think they've been very intentional with their ending music and just in general this season. These lyrics filled me with some hope as well. Jotted down the lyrics since couldn't find the song.

‘When the sun won’t shine and the words don’t rhyme. And there’s mountains you can’t move. Somethings on your mind and it’s been some time-since you felt like you were you. When it all caves in feeling paper thin. And the pain might cut right through.

Oh child, Lift up your head. All this trouble's only gonna last for awhile.’ Yeah we’re gonna be all right oh child. Lift up your head. And the light's gonna find you. When you feel like you ain’t got a friend. And you’re wondering if you ever gonna smile again. Every little thing gonna be ok. I know that you gonna see better days.’ *heart clutch.*

Damn smart of Tim saying happy birthday from Kojo and not him. I’m not crying you are. This was so so sweet. Lucy's reaction to Kojo got me all in my feels. She's so excited to see him. Then that excitement melts into sadness. Because he's an extension of Tim. The way she pet's him and says how much she misses him ugh.

Seems there is a double meaning going on there. We all know despite the hurt how much she misses her person. Tim just standing there only imagining her reaction when Kojo makes his way back. What a way to bring that sweet boy back in. I'm so happy about it. Tim is respecting her space but couldn’t let her bday go without doing something. Had to let her know her was thinking of her still. The fact that it’s happening in the hallway where so many seminal moments have played out for them.... I wanna cry.

I LOVE that Tim got Kojo to put his little paw in ink for the card. It is so sweet. Their fur baby. He put serious thought and effort into this. This was so well done. Only Melissa and Eric could have chemistry without even seeing each other. This is the first time we've really seen Lucy cry about them. 6x06 she was in complete shock. 6x07 was her processing her thoughts/emotions. She was on the verge of tears but we didn't see her cry. This was first time we've seen her shed tears on screen at least since the break up. Wanna hug her so much. She deserved this card and more. Like a real conversation with him but this is a good start.

She knows this is Tim reaching out without physically doing so. Showing her he still cares. I mean he clearly very much does. You don't put thought and effort in like this if you don't. It's a huge thing for him to do right now. Lucy recognizes the effort in this adorable act. Tim's face after she reads the card. Ripping my damn heart out. The absolute regret splayed all over it. Like it’s finally hitting him what he’s done to her. What he’s lost in the process. He gave up his favorite person. His happy place and just it’s hitting him square in his chest.

Like a freight train that’s run him over. It's the way he shakes his head. Kicking himself. Knowing he hastily threw them away. What a mistake he’s made in his irrational decision making. It’s written all over his beautiful face. He may not fully understand yet why he did it but the regret is evident. Eric be killing me. His face screams all that. Knowing he should’ve been with Lucy for her birthday. Hell probably sharing that bath bomb she brought up with her. Killing me softly. Hurts so good. Damnit writers... This is being handled so well though. So hats off to them. They both needed this moment more than either of them knew.

Mad dog killing himself....jesus H Christ. Poor Tim the last thing he needs is this. It explains why he was extra nasty to Tim though. Tim saw the flaw in his play and freaked the hell out. Also for Tim to see someone he once trusted with his life compromise themselves. Compromise the safety of their own men. Gut punch. And for what? Money? Power? We won't know till more of this unravels. Whatever it is won't be for a good reason. I know Tim hates himself for his mistakes. But those mistakes always had some form of honor attached to them.

He may not see that but I do. Now the op where he got his men killed no but what he did after was honorable. What he did for Mitch came from a honorable place. I just wonder how seeing Mad Dog doing something so very un-honorable is gonna affect him moving forward...Oh my lord I’m so mad about Dr London not because I liked her. But because I didn’t want it to derail Tim’s therapy in any way. The man needs it. Here’s hoping he continues in s7 with someone better.

Everyone was right she’s a dirty birdy. I was just hoping she wouldn’t be. But my ick and uncomfortable factor went WAY up in this ep with her. I knew it was inevitable. It's not that I didn't want to be wrong about her. It's the fact I didn't want this to hurt Aaron and I definitely I didn’t want her to be dirty for Tim that was it. For his therapy and the progress he's made. I hope this doesn’t affect his therapy journey and he can find someone not compromised in S7.

That promo for next week oh my lord….the hug! The hug! "This doesn't change anything." Then pulls him right in like nothing's changed. I will be living there from now on. Or until next week lol Love the Finale being a 2 parter as well. Phew this is gonna be an intense ending to this season. Gonna be chomping at the bit for S7 once it's done I know it. Like the song stated we're gonna see better days. I truly believe that. We got this my lovely fandom. Thank you for always being so wonderfully receptive of these reviews. Appreciate any likes, comments or reblogs that come my way.

~~~

Side notes-non Chenford

Angela shooting Monica down with Wesley. She's an Epic Queen and I adore her.

Dr London is in alliance with Monica. That's super great….cool cool cool……I have a feeling and D and I discussed this earlier. Reminds us of Armstrong. This feels more like a she's been forced into it a situation. Because its obvious she's good at her job.

But the way she freaked out about the cops being hurt clearly shook her. She looked on the verge of tears in Mad Dog's room. So do I think she's a bad person? Unsure at the moment. Do I think she was once a good person who was manipulated into whatever this alliance is? I do. Be interesting to see how her SL unfolds.

[ramp-it-up]

ii Most Wanted Part 11: Till the Day I Die (2)

Bless the Broken Road

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: The wedding, along with the nerves, are here!

Word count: 3.5K

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, ANGST, FLUFF. Not much smut at all, sorry. 18 year olds heavy petting, teen hormones, talk of bad dreams, wedding day angst, thoughts of loss, lots of flufffff, 😊.

Sy and Buttercup get married! 👰🏾‍♀️🤵🏻‍♂️

Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N:  This is the 11th installment of II Most Wanted. These characters won't quit, so this series will be extended to at least 12 installments, but not for much longer than that. Here are the results from the wedding dress poll .

I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

May 2004

“We’re both grown ups now, Buttercup.”

Sy’s breath and smooth voice ghosted your ear as he mouthed at your neck and down your collarbone to the tops of your breasts that were threatening to come out of your bra. You shivered, causing him to pull back and check to see if you were cold because you had thrown off your t-shirt. When he saw your lust- dilated eyes, he was lost to your charms.

Sy could tell by your silence that you were in the same zone that he was in; you just couldn’t admit it.  He wondered if it was because you were trying to keep your purity, or that you wanted to give it away so badly that you couldn’t formulate words. He got impossibly harder at the thought of the latter. It was just a week after your birthday and two weeks to prom and Sy was back to begging.

He was so weak for you.

“You’re a good girl, I know it, Buttercup.”

You whimpered and kissed him hard, your lips sucking on his tongue while pulling him on top of you and between your jean-clad legs, making Sy realize that him calling you a good girl ignited something inside you. His heart pounded through his ribcage at your response.

When you parted, gasping for air, he moved again, bending his head to gently bite your nipple through your bra and continuing his assault on your mind as you ground on the bulge in his pants. Sy held your hips in his hands, slowing you down lest you cause him to make a mess in his pants.

The now familiar, alluring coil in your belly had been winding you up for a while and you were on the verge of risking it all to get some relief. You and Sy had been physical for weeks, but kissing and heavy petting was as far as it went. He would never allow you to go down on him, although you could tell he was holding back. 

His chivalry only made you want him more. But something was causing you to hesitate, despite the fact that Sy was delicious torture and temptation personified.

Tonight, however, he was begging. Artfully. And you were on the edge of giving him everything that he, and you, wanted.

“I have protection. We’ll be so careful, Buttercup. Nothing will happen. Except… except I’ll make you feel real good. I promise. Please.”

His hands moved up your torso, grasping your ribcage as he continued his rationale.

“You already know I’m gonna marry you, girl. It’s a done deal.”

You melted at his deep drawl in your ear, and his touch on your skin, but you chuckled at him, giving him pause.

“Sy…You couldn’t decide what you wanted for dinner. How do you know you want to spend the rest of your life with me? We’ve been together, what? Four months?”

Being the new girl sucked, but when your two new besties, Carla and Tiffani, ratted you out to Sy and gave him your number right after the homecoming dance when he broke up with Becca, you were mad. They had no right to tell your secret.

But you were pleasantly surprised and shocked as hell when he actually called you a week later. 

Everyone thought the pairing was odd; you were so different but shared the same heartbeat. You talked for hours about life, the universe, and everything, and you loved rolling through town in the passenger seat of Sy’s 1978 Ford Bronco with the loud muffler, making waves in the wind with your empty hand, your other hand on him. Sometimes you flipped off the haters that loved to talk shit, but mainly you just waved at those who stopped and stared.

You didn’t give a shit, and Sy didn’t either.

That’s why you loved him. People said you were too young, but yes. You were in love with Jake Syverson.

Even though you were lying In the bed of the Bronco with your shirt off, Sy stopped trying to get into your pants, shifted beside you and stared. Cerulean blue orbs held you captive.

“I knew what I wanted you the moment you walked into English class with that Powerpuff Girls shirt on and that scowl on your face. I knew you were mine. Trust me,  Buttercup. I know you feel it too. I’m yours. ‘Til the day I die.”

You shivered as you stared at him. You didn’t trust many people in your life, but if you trusted anyone, it would be Sy. You took a deep breath and searched his face for deception. It wasn’t there. He already had your soul; you were about to give him your body. 

Sy saw the moment you made your decision and was shook. This wasn’t going to be some simple fun in the back of Betty. This was forever. He considered you. The hot, innocent look of desire that made him rock hard also made him feel guilty. He knew what you’d been through and the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you. Sy wanted this to be your decision, and you weren’t ready tonight before he sweet talked you. All of a sudden, it just didn’t seem right.  His hand came up and traced your cheek down to your lips.

“You’re so beautiful. I love you Buttercup.”

You flushed, and a warm sensation was building in your chest at his gentle whisper.

Is really this what true love felt like?

Before you could respond, Sy pulled you closer, and reached into the backseat for his letterman jacket to cover you from the chilly night air. 

He leaned down and kissed your forehead and nuzzled your hair as he held you close.

“Drivin’ me crazy, but I will wait forever for you, Buttercup.”

You melted into him when you realized that he was pumping the brakes. You soon noticed that he was still semi-hard beneath your thigh, which was thrown across his hips. You reached down to grasp him.

“Poor Sy…”

Sy caught your hand in his and interlaced his fingers with yours instead.

“Prom night?”

You nodded and bit your lip, looking up at him through your lashes. A low growl emitted from your boyfriend. 

“I must be really in love, ‘cause I just cock-blocked my damn self.”

You shook with laughter as Sy grumbled. He handed you your shirt back and took in what he could of your flesh as you covered up, licking his lips as he memorized you for when he was alone in his room later. 

You grinned at him.

“Maybe so, Captain Syverson.”

He smacked your bottom as you climbed back into the passenger seat. Sy loved it when you called him Captain.

He climbed out of the gate and stepped out into the chilly night to get back to the driver’s seat and took a deep breath, then shook his head as he looked up at the stars. Sy smiled at the thought of his grandmother’s ring.

Suddenly, a plan formed in his mind.

You and he would go to State, you with his ring, a promise, on your finger, and him with his heart on his sleeve. He’d propose with a rock the summer before senior year and marry you the week after college graduation, living happily ever after.

Sy grinned at the perfection of it all as he climbed back into the Bronco and gave you a kiss before he peeled off the Lookout.

—--

Sy woke up with a start the next morning. He looked around confused, not recognizing his surroundings as he tried to wake up fully. He hadn’t had a dream like it in months, since he was newly retired.

But this dream wasn’t about war; in this dream, he’d lost you again. 

He sat on the edge of the bed, regret about so much time was wasted swirling around him. Then he sighed and reached for his phone, finding a treasure trove of pictures of you and your friends. His heart rate calmed and his face cracked into a smile as he discovered that you had messaged him genuine joy. 

No use in mourning the past, Sy thought.

You’d stopped sending pictures around 11:56 pm, because it was your wedding day, you explained, and his heart exploded when he read that. 

You were still his girl, and he was gonna marry you.

He texted you good morning before he put down his phone and stared at the ceiling. 

It was his fucking wedding day.

Sy jumped out of bed and was on the road to Vegas by 6 am.

—-

The next afternoon after a 24 hour whirlwind of pure fun with your friends, you smiled up at the photographer as you carefully adjusted the lace garter around your leg.

You were in love with your dress, your shoes, and especially your hair. Tiffany had been right to encourage you to get a Vegas blowout. You felt like a model. The camera clicked away as you beamed into the lens.

“Beautiful, now let's get a shot with the bridesmaids.”

Carla and Tiffani gathered close and smiled. This intimate ceremony would be the perfect wedding for you and Sy. And that was all that mattered.

After the pictures, you got yourself from your suite to the limo just in time to make the booking at A Little White Wedding Chapel on the other end of the strip. You were serene, and happy that you didn’t need to stuff a monster gown into the car.

During the drive, you looked out of the window and remembered your mother, who had been alive at the time of your first wedding. You allowed yourself a moment of sadness.

Carla leaned over to you.

“We got your back if you want to run.”

You looked back at her and smiled. 

“It’s okay. Sy is who and what I want. I’m good. Really good.”

Tiffany spoke up. 

“Okay. Just remember, we’re always here for you.”

You became even more emotional.

“I know.” 

You smiled at both of them, near tears.

“But you better not make me ruin my makeup, bitches.”

You all laughed, the mood lightened.

—-

Jacob Syverson had been waiting for this day for a long, long time. 

He didn’t think it would come this soon. 

Or all this time later. 

Hell, there was a time that he never thought he’d see you again. 

He’d arrived at the chapel a little early, not wanting to wait to take you as his bride. As he got ready in the groom’s room, he eyed his blue checked sport coat and blue polka dot tie with matching pocket square that he had picked out. He knew that they brought out his eyes. He fiddled with his curls and smoothed down his beard, staring at himself in the mirror, almost in disbelief.

Was this really happening?.

From the moment he saw you when he was 17 years old, he’d wanted you to be his.

And now it was about to happen. 

Sy suddenly couldn’t breathe and he was weak, sweat popping out on his forehead. The tie was too tight. He loosened the tie and unbuttoned the top button of the shirt, hands seemingly a blur in the mirror. He shook his head to clear it, and looked back up into his own eyes long and hard, asking himself if he was really ready to be your husband.

He knew he wanted this, but today he was scared shitless.

—----

The doors of the chapel opened, and you stood around the corner, hidden from view as your friends preceded you down the aisle. You peeked around the corner to catch a glimpse of him at the end of the aisle, and saw a flash of blue at the altar.

There was Sy, so handsome in a blue sportcoat and polka dot pocket square, chuckling and shaking his head at something Carla did as she walked toward him, then he smiled wide at Tiffani. You straightened up when  his eyes found the closing doors, your heart pounded as you hid from his view.

Were you really going to do this?

—----

Sy’s throat went dry as he stared at the doors at the back of the chapel. His hands began to shake causing him to clasp them in front of him as he waited.

In a flash, the doors were open again and there you were a vision in satin and lace, but not a lot of it. The sun shone behind you and he nearly fainted as he admired the view through your dress.

You glowed like an angel.

You paused and the music began. He barely registered the familiar notes of the song because suddenly, his head was swimmy again. 

He took a deep breath and got himself together, staring at you wide eyed as you slowly moved toward him, with that smile on your face.

At that moment, there was only one woman in the world, and you were walking toward him.

—--

The doors of the chapel opened again and you had tunnel vision for Sy at the end of the aisle. Your heart leapt in your throat and you tried to swallow it down when all you could hear were the opening notes of the music you and Sy claimed as your song all those years ago. 

You didn’t realize how much more accurate the lyrics were twenty years later.

I set out on a narrow way many years ago

Hoping I would find true love along the broken road

But I got lost a time or two

Wiped my brow and kept pushing through

I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you

You smiled and paused, eyes having found Sy’s and locked in. You were trembling and took a deep breath before walking toward him. 

—---

It seemed that you moved toward him in slow motion, and Sy felt that he was in a dream, staring at you in disbelief. There you were, all long, flowy hair around your shoulders and that satin baby doll dress with lace trim adorning your curves perfectly. 

Sy gazed at you, taking you in from your cute white toenails in your high heeled sandals up those curvaceous legs and thighs to the short, flowy skirt that swished around the swell of your hips to the fitted waist. He licked his lips as he hallucinated seeing your nipples through the rushed satin bust of the bodice, and almost passed for the third time when one of the lace straps fell down your shoulder. 

The dress was everything, and he was gonna make love to you in it later on.

His eyes moved upwards, reading the name on the gold necklace that was his gift to you, and that was nestled on your chest. Sy looked back up at you smiling knowingly back at him, and suddenly, he was calm although there were tears streaming down his face.

That every long lost dream led me to where you are

Others who broke my heart, they were like Northern stars

Pointing me on my way into your loving arms

This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road

That led me straight to you

—---

As you moved, speeding down the aisle it seemed, you realized that you were smiling through your own tears. Sy broke your heart once, but you both were idiot kids in love, and who knows if you would have made it that young anyway?

The way this happened was meant to be, this moment was perfect, and it was now.

—--

I think about the years I spent just passin' through

I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you

But you just smile and take my hand

You've been there, you understand

It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true

It seemed like it would take ten more years for you to reach him at the altar and Sy felt a pang of regret at the lost time. But then he remembered that you were walking towards him, right here, right now. You were choosing him. The past was over. It was time to make a new future.

—--

You floated down the aisle, and in no time you were standing beside Sy at the altar, no recognition of how you arrived in this instant bubble between you two. 

Sy stared at you, as if surprised to find you there, then smiled as you wiped his tears away with your fingers.

“Hi,” you whispered, smiling as Sy chuckled and took his pocket square out to dab at your face. 

“You look so handsome.”

Sy smiled, wanting to take you in his arms.

“Hey, Buttercup. You look gorgeous.”

You shivered as his eyes assessed you, your belly flipping as his gaze covered your entire form. You grew warm and wanted to kiss him, but he gave you a look and you decided to behave.

He held his hand out for yours, eyes sparkling.

The electricity that buzzed around you when you were near him was back, and you knew that you wanted this feeling forever. Sy’s patient gaze made you smile wider at how much he loved you. 

In that instant, you knew beyond a doubt.

You stared at him, taking in his face, the woodsy scent of his cologne, how huge he was in front of you. Then you sighed, nodded (to yourself really) and gave Sy your hand, which he held in his and caressed with his thumb. Shivers ran down your spine, yet you managed to stay upright.

—--

And now I'm just a-rollin' home

Into my lover's arms

This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road

That led me straight to you

The officiant cleared their throat and you all looked their way.

“Have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage today?"

Sy answered first, smiled, looked at you and said,  “Yes.”

You smiled back and without hesitation, said, “Yes.”

“Will you love and honor each other as man and wife for the rest of your lives?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Since it is your intention to enter into marriage, join your right hands, and declare your consent before these witnesses.”

Everyone laughed because you were already holding hands. 

You wrote your vows together, so you knew what was coming. But you weren’t ready. The tears started again.

Sy spoke, his voice never wavering.

“I take you Y/N Y/LN  to be my wife. I promise to be with you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse. I promise to take care of you and to share with you and be straight with you and to always shelter you with my love. I will always come after you and I will always help you to look up when you are feeling down. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.

Until the day I die.”

Your eyes overflowed, but you remained strong.

“I, Y/N Y/LN, take you, Jacob Allen Syverson to be my husband. I promise to be with you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse. I promise to care for you and be straight with you and to share with you and to always shelter you with my love. I will not seek to run from you and I will always hold you down while you lift me up. And I will love you and honor you all the days of my life. Until the day I die.”

Sy grinned at you and your stomach flipped with excitement as Carla and Tiffani awwed.

The officiant continued.

“You have declared your consent before these witnesses. What has been joined together, let no man divide. May these rings be a symbol of your true faith in each other, and always remind you of your love.”

You turned to Carla for Sy’s ring, a simple gold band, and you slipped it on his finger. Sy turned to Tiffani and your eyebrow shot up as she reached into a pocket in her dress and handed him a black box. Out came his grandmother’s ring, only now there was another ring that was paired with it, beautifully heavy with diamonds.

Your mouth hinged open in shock.

Sy was grinning at your reaction as he slid the rings onto your finger, pretty pleased with himself you could tell.

“Told you I would marry you with a bigger ring than that. Told you that a long time ago.”

He looked up at you with those baby blues and winked at you as your knees got weak. You looked around at your friends who were obviously in on it.

“Don’t worry, they’re conflict-free.” 

Carla stage whispered and everyone laughed as you shook your head and held your hand up to the light before Sy captured it in his own again. He was feeling like the man at that moment, and you almost forgot there was anyone else in the room as you gazed up at him. Electricity zapped between you, and you were ready to take him down.

The officiant cleared their throat again.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.” 

There was a pause as you both looked at them with anticipation. They smiled back, knowing what you wanted.

“You may now kiss your bride!”

Sy let out a whoop and pulled you in for a kiss, taking you into a dip and causing hoots, hollers, and cheers.

“May I now introduce Mr. Jacob and Mrs. Buttercup Syverson!”

You burst out into laughter as Sy led you back down the aisle, fingering the gold name necklace which said ‘Mrs. Buttercup.’