#will never get over it until it's resolved

[gothicfied]

https://www.tumblr.com/gothicfied/784292304227827712/the-devil-in-your-eyes-wont-deny-the-lies

of course we want a part two omg

I DON'T WANNA GET UNDRESSED FOR A NEW PERSON ALL OVER AGAIN

(read part 1 here)

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem!reader

Summary: After the awful summer you had because of a certain Jude Bellingham, you were more than hesitant to accept the invite to go to the first El Clasico of the season. You were seeing someone and you honestly didn't have the time to spare for Jude, but you felt like you had to go anyways to get things straight.

Word Count: ~4.9k

Reading Time: ~20 Minutes

Warnings: Slight swearing, Reader is still struggling with her feelings most of the time, Jude is thankfully not an asshole anymore, probably an unsatisfying ending, still hopeful ending, much more fluff than angst, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Tag(s): @jsprien213

A/N: I'm really having fun with this little series and I'm planning on resolving everything in a third part, don't worry. I wrote this in like a day, so don't mind any spelling mistakes and sorry if something doesn't make sense. I'm personally sorry to Jude for writing him this way lolololol Inspiration was this song👇

Love is an intense feeling of deep affection. It is what builds up the world, creates new life and makes life worth living. Or, in your case, it'll completely destroy your emotions and friendships you didn't think you could lose.

That night where Jude absolutely did not want to leave your side and actually did wait for you outside the guest room until almost 3:00 in the morning was when you were sure you'd never want to see that man ever again. Eventually, though, you did open the door for him, because... well, you felt bad. Jude wasn't even asleep or on his phone and it was clear that he had shed a tear or two. He wasn't an overly emotional man and wouldn't let himself cry, even if it meant it would save his life.

You were kind of ready to talk or at least give him the time to explain himself. But, it all got out of hand really fast: You couldn't controll your emotions either and just started screaming at him about nothing and everything all at once. Jude felt overwhelmed with the amount of information leaving your mouth and wasn't able to process everything to give you a good answer. Everything he said sounded wrong to your ears, which just made you more agitated. It was late, you had been crying and you had gotten no sleep the days before, ergo: You were tired. Tired and not in the right headspace.

Jude wouldn't ever yell at you. He did raise his voice a couple of times, but never got closer to you than three or four meters. His head was pounding and frankly, he did not have a good reason why he'd rather go for someone like Amy and not you, who he treated like his girlfriend basically all his life. Since he'd known you.

You threw him out of the room. And that was that. In the morning, you didn't go downstairs for a while, fearing you'd meet Jude there. The next day you left Spain anyway. He helped you get your luggage downstairs, but wouldn't look you in the eyes. Jude wasn't mad, he was more so disappointed in himself and very ashamed of what he did to you or made you feel.

He didn't go to the airport with you.

He didn't say a proper goodbye.

He didn't call you to check up on you after you landed back in England.

And you wouldn't either.

...

Sunmer's almost over and you felt like you've wasted all your time. Back home, you didn't have the energy to get out of the bed most days. It's not like your parents or your sister cared anyway and your brother wouldn't really understand what was going on. He was only six and to him Jude Bellingham was the best football player on earth. He adored him and was always so excited to see his big sister with his idol, hand in hand and what not. Poor kid, you'd have to tell him some time that things aren't like they were before.

Thankfully, your friends were there to occasionally drag you out of bed. Your best friend Alicia was definitely ready to swing at him if he ever dared to enter the UK again. You thought it was funny how protective she was and she was just glad she got you to smile for the first time in days. At home, you didn't quite know what to do with your time. You opted for finally taking school a bit more seriously and the whole preparing for the new semester did help you clear your head from all that's happened back in Spain.

Jude still wouldn't call you. You wouldn't text him or try to say sorry, because you thought you didn't have anything to be sorry for. Sure, you kind of felt bad for yelling at him and not giving him the chance to speak, but he was still the one who messed up and should contact you to straighten it out. You banished all his football jerseys he gave you to the back of your closet. At first, you just wanted to light them on fire and throw all the gifts he gave you right into it, but Alicia thankfully made you overthink your decision.

"I hate him! Who does he think he is, huh? What the fuck—" This went on and on for a few minutes while you paced around your room. This was just two days after you came back from Jude's and your best friend, who sat on your bed, didn't know how to console you in this situation. She watched in disbelief while you picked out every single on of his shirts, didn't matter if it was a Dortmund or England or Real Madrid kit, and threw it on the ground, swearing up and down you'd tear them into shreds and burn them until they were unrecognizable. "Okay, look," Alicia stopped you, "I get what you're going through. Really. He's an asshole and I know how much it must've hurt but... come on, burning this shit won't solve the problem." You stopped dead in your tracks and slowly turned around to her, looking like you're about to cry again. "What do you mean?" Alicia sighed, "Maybe you guys make up. What then? Do you really wanna explain what happened to all of those." She pointed at the pile of shirts on your floor, to which you sighed this time. "I don't know, girl. Maybe you're right."

Your life felt weird without the most important person in it. Jude was out of the picture and that allowed you to finally peruse other people for once. While the first two weeks felt like torture, where summer dragged itself out without reason and you just wanted to go back to your normal life style again, September felt like a fresh new start.

Alicia had made it her objective to set you up with as many people as possible. Drunken nights out have gotten you nowhere the past few years, because you always wanted to stay loyal to the man who has your heart. Well, who gives a shit now? Definitely not Jude.

And, you thought you were over with that chapter for now, until your phone rang: "Hey, can we talk?" You picked up without looking at the phone screen, so hearing a voice so similar to Jude's made you jump. It was Jobe. "Oh my god, hey! Yes of course we can, how are you?" Jobe was always like a little brother to you and truth be told, you had missed him greatly. "Yeah.. yeah no, I'm doing fine. Are you, though?"

"Uhhh..." You paused for a moment, "Yeah. Yes I'm good. School's been okay, not too many assignments yet. Haven't thought about dropping out yet, I think that's the important part." Jobe chuckled at the other end of line. "You know that's not what I'm really asking you, right?" Oh great. Of course he'd tell his brother. Jude and Jobe were each others best friends and their brotherly bond allowed them to to talk about everything, even the most private stuff. "Ugh, okay. What did he tell you?"

"Not much until now. Just that you two had this huge fight. I knew he was an idiot, but I would've never thought he'd throw you away like that."

"He didn't... throw me away, Jobe. Now that I'm thinking about it, he can't control who he likes. If it's not me then.. well, you know."

"Don't lie to me like that. I can hear you lying."

It sometimes bothered you a lot how Jobe was able to read you like a book. You sighed and nodded, even though he wasn't able to see it. For a few minutes, you told Jude's brother what really bothered you and what actually happened. By the sound of his voice, he would've flown down there and strangled his brother, if he had the chance.

"Mom's been asking for you. But Jude kinda told her all that and she's too afraid she'll step over any boundaries if she called you." You sighed again. It was like family drama back home.. back with your family.

"I'll talk to her, I promise." You knew Denise would want things to be straightened out between Jude and you, but you didn't know if you could ever do that. At least not in the next few months.

"Okay. Thanks. I'll talk to you later. Love you."

"Love you too." And Jobe hung up

Now you were able to sit with your thoughts for a moment. After a few minutes, you decided against calling Denise right away and just focused on getting ready for another night out with Alicia and your uni friends.

...

It's October. The end of October and it was the most perfect time of the year. Halloween was in sight and attending a University in England seemed to be the most aesthetic thing one could do. A few days ago, Denise had called you a second time after Jobe had told you about her conflict.

The topic was — sadly for you — the first El Clasico of the season that was right around the corner. You hadn't been into football these past couple of weeks, but you did notice that Real Madrid had an unusually weak start. Gossip pages on both TikTok and Instagram had already touched on the story around Jude: He wasn't meeting with Amy anymore and you were also not seen in a while. Intern sources claim there was a fight and now you wonder which one of those new friends you made in Madrid gave the intel. You weren't mad.

What gossip pages also talked about was you. You, without being linked to a footballer. For a month or so, you've been hanging out with a new guy — Joseph — a lot. He was nice, caring, fit and you did like him a lot. On the Internet, it's already being speculated if he's your new boyfriend.. as if Jude was your last. Amy, of course, also couldn't keep her dirty little fingers out of the situation and had to post 'cryptic' insta stories seemingly making fun of you. You chose your peace and ignored them. She was pathetic, you knew that now and you wouldn't let yourself be bothered by someone like her.

"I just want you to think about it, sweetheart. You don't have to do anything you don't want to, okay?" Denise voice rang out of your phone while you were slumped over a few books for your mandatory statistics course. She asked you to come down to Spain and be there for the match and well... Jude. More so for her, if she was being really honest, because she had missed you. "I don't know if that's such a good idea." You couldn't just outright say to her that you currently hated her son, right? "I don't know if I wanna see him— Or if he even wants to see me." Denise huffed, but showed herself to be understanding. "Believe me, Jude wants to see you. He doesn't say it directly, but I can tell. A mother can always tell. He's been upset lately because of your new.. who is he?" You froze. "What? You mean Joseph? Oh, he's not my boyfriend if that's what you're asking." Later Denise told you that Jude had no right to be mad at you or Joseph, because of everything he had done with Amy and such. You were grateful that she understood that completely right. Thinking about Jude so often wasn't something you had planned, but emotions kept bubbling up. You missed him. Terribly and you didn't want to admit it. "You know what? Yes, fine, I'll be there."

"Ohhhh my god, why did I agree to this? What is wrong with me?" You were talking to yourself while you packed a small suitcase for the few days you'd be staying in Madrid. Maybe you thought this was an opportunity to patch things up.. but things needed a lot of patching. Were you ready to forgive him yet? No. No, most definitely not.

Alicia also told you it was a bad idea, but you did want to see Denise again, so whatever. If not for her son, then for her. The whole flight over you painted out different scenarios on how this thing would go. Would Jude be happy to see you? Glad even? Or brush it off and still be mad at whatever he thought he had a right to be mad at? How were you supposed to act? Congratulate him if he won? Comfort him if he lost? Celebrate if he scored a goal? Talk to him at all or just be there?

Denise had offered you to stay at their place, but you had politely declined. Not even the devil could make you go back there after the wound was still so fresh. Or maybe you're just exaggerating a lot. You couldn't really tell if you were too paranoid or if you should actually be feeling like this. At least some people were on your side.

"Look, you don't have to worry, you can go." Joseph said in his deep voice, turning the steering wheel left in the direction google maps was telling him to. "Yeah, I just. Man, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I really like you and.. I wanna keep seeing you." He could tell your indecisiveness in your voice. Joseph was, of course, also a huge fan of Jude, if he was being honest. He didn't start going out with you just because you were associated with him, but he didn't mind hearing all the drama first hand. Ultimately, he understood he took on some kind of 'rebound' character, even though he also understood that Jude and you had never been in a relationship. "I like you too," Your date laughed, "But I think, like personally, you should go. Carrying all that weight of unresolved feelings and stuff won't be good for you." He was very mature and you definitely needed someone like that right now. You can't believe you were on your way to a very nice restaurant — a date — and you were still talking about Jude. "I'm sorry that I'm bothering you with all of this." You said after a few minutes of silence. "You're not bothering. I think it's nice that you trust me enough to tell me all of this."

On the other side, Jude, the man himself, was slightly mad at his mom that she even thought about inviting you. And he was mad that you accepted. Truthfully, he wished for nothing more than to see you again, since his feelings for you grew over the months. He kept cursing himself for realizing all of that now and not the years before. At the start of the season, he missed you being there for his first game. He missed seeing you in the crowd, he missed seeing you with his mother, he missed seeing you happy and celebrating when Real won. He missed seeing your absolutely beautiful face. He missed your hugs, your warmth, the smell of your favorite perfume. He missed your voice and talking to you the most.

He realized he wasn't playing his best, regardless of giving his everything on the pitch. It was emotional distress and he brushed it off to his friends and team mates as 'having too much stress'. Jude still woke up everyday excited to play football, but it was still a lot more fun when he knew you were watching — Doesn't matter if that was from home or right there in the stadium.

The feeling he felt deep in his bones had something to do with jealousy, longing and sadness. A mix between every negative thing in his life and he couldn't seem to get rid of it. Jude thought that maybe, if you were there after the El Clasico, it would resolve itself. All he needed is you and for you to forgive him. He also knew that he had to prove himself for it to work.

He hated that he had to prove himself against Barcelona and have you watch him. Judge him. Hate him. At least Jude thought you hated him — Why you accepted to come to his game was a mystery.

While he was busy sorting out his thoughts during the last hour before the game, you've been picked up by Denise, per her request. She gave you a little side hug in the car: "Aww, good to see you, sweetheart!" She exclaimed full with excitement. You actually were excited as well, to see her and be able to watch the game. It's not like you always only attended because of Jude. No, you've become good friends, or at least acquaintances, with most players and slash or their partners. "Good to see you, too. It's been a while, I've missed you."

You gapped about everything in your life, mostly about school and your family. Honestly, you haven't really talked to them in a hot minute since you immediately moved out when you graduated. Mark and Denise were a big help, because your parents wouldn't step up. Sometimes they'd try to call you and most of the times you wouldn't pick up. They had ignored you most of your life, what makes this specific day so special that they'd call? You didn't owe them anything. But, during these times, you wished you had a mom you could actually call and talk about it.

"Look. Jude's been.. down lately. And I know what he did and all that jazz. I just want you to know I'm on your side." Denise whispered to you while you took your seat once you were in the breathtaking stadium the Santiago Bernabéu is. On the big screen you, suprisingly, sae your face. You, who looked up and smiled slightly when noticing the camera on you. You kind of forgot this feeling, but you didn't really miss it.

"I appreciate that." You whispered back to Jude's mom, who started to laugh next to you. "I know what an idiot he can be. Oh, you have no idea how hard his early teenage years were with him."

"I do. I was there." Denise chuckled and nodded. She'd always call you soulmates, two people who couldn't be torn apart. You knew Jude better than anyone, since he'd always run to you with his problems rather than his mom or his dad. Later, Denise would bribe you with sweets or your favorite snack to go tattle on him to her. Of course, you'd never tell her Jude's big secrets or one's that could literally get him grounded for the next ten years, but it was entertaining to watch him get in trouble for small things like a failed test or for missing curfew.

"Different jersey?" You turned your head over your shoulder to check the back, as if you didn't know what kind of jersey you wore. It was blank, didn't have a name on it. "Sorry," You sighed when thinking back at the hassle that was picking out the right one, "didn't think.. I just thought this one was more appropriate."

You knew if fans photgraphed you with this one on, rumors would arise in literal seconds.

"Oh my god! She isn't wearing Jude's jersey!"

"Look, it doesn't say 'Bellingham' on it.."

"They really had a fight!"

Trying to clear your thoughts was hard here, under the eyes of everyone, so you excused yourself to the bathroom for a minute.

...

Well, this really didn't seem like the greatest season for Real Madrid. The game started off okay, with many offside goals and groaning from your side of the stadium. You tried your best not to have your eyes glued to Jude, but rather watch Vini, Kylian, Fede... anyone!

You'd tune out all the cheering and clapping once Barca had scored their third goal of the game. Jude didn't play his best, absolutely not. You wondered why that was, why this specific game? He probably knew you were coming, maybe he was under pressure because of you. Maybe he was scared to mess up in front of you. Maybe—

Wait.

This isn't about you. Is it?

You tried avoiding sounding so selfish and narcissistic in your own head, even though you didn't have to prove it to anyone. No one was there to read your thoughts, why were you so self critical? It probably was because of you. No. Or.. maybe? You definitely wished you were messing with his head right now, as somw kind of revenge. You didn't like losing though... he could've done more!

During Half Time a little before, you had spoken to Joseph over the phone:

"Dude, this is going terribly for you guys." The man quipped on the other end of the line, apparently not all that mad about it. "Ugh, tell me about it." Joseph had told you he wasn't the biggest fan of Real and you accepted that, but these kind of talks were getting really annoying. "I'm hiding in the bathroom. Like.. I don't even want to continue. He probably doesn't even want to talk to me after if they keep going like this." Joseph audibly laughed, not trying to hide his amusement. "Noooo.. come on. You have to try! Even if things don't work out.. I'm right here, baby." Hearing a term of endearment out if anyone's mouth but Jude's was cringe. "Haha.. yeah. I gotta go. I'll talk to you later." After you hung up, you stormed out of the bathroom stall, coming to a straight halt when seeing a woman at the sink fixing her makeup. Oh no, she heard all of that? How embarrassing.

To say your mood was ruined is an understatement. This sucks, the game, the opposing team, Jude Bellingham who's still not giving his all... You slumped back in your seat, hearing Denise sigh. Yeah, this was going to be a looooong evening.

...

There were no smiles, no laughing, no nothing. Losing 4-0 against your biggest rivals was also a thing of its own. You were standing at the end of the tunnel with Denise and basically everyone else who was here to see one of the players. You heart was racing, your palms were sweaty — You had sworn to yourself that you wouldn't get so worked up about this but you still did.

When Jude's eyes met you, it was like everything around him froze. He was happy to see you, happy to have you in his arms just a second and—

His last name wasn't on the back of your shirt. So it's true? The guy everyone's been seeing you with is your boyfriend? To be fair, Jude thought, he brought it upon himself. When you finally did lock eyes, you couldn't look away. He looked so sad and disappointed, in the loss of course. The tiny twinkle in his eyes told you that he was actually glad to see you.

It's like you two were connected even in a time like this. Just like you, he couldn't look away. Just like you, he wiped his sweaty hands on his shirt. Just like you, his heart was pounding. Jude was confused on what to do and just greeted his mom first, while you stood next to them, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

You had awkward eye contact with some other people around you, who apparently knew what was going on and just gave you a look of pity. Wow, why is everyone here so invested in your private life? It's not even that exciting, everyone has drama once in a whi—

"Hey," Jude greeted you rather breathlessly and stared down at you. "Hey." You couldn't do it. You couldn't look his way. That was quickly resolved anyway when he took the liberty and hugged you. Jude wrapped his arms around your torso, tightly, like you'd disappear if he let go. Because of muscle memory, you rested your head against his chest, not knowing how to reciprocate this act of affection. "I'm.. I'm," He whispered, "I'm glad you're here."

It sounded like he really needed you. Out of courtesy, and not because you wanted to, you hugged him back. After it lastet a moment to long, you tried to pry yourself from his grip, to which Jude immediately let go. Shit, he obviously overstepped a line.

Jude's eyes lingered on you, on your clothes, your hair, your slightly trembling hands. It was like the world around you two didn't exist anymore, but rather only this moment you two shared. You couldn't wait to get away from here. "Okay, let's drive you back, honey." Denise said after a few moments of pure silence.

...

The car ride back to your hotel was excruciatingly long. You kept biting your nails while Jude was busy, or at least pretending to be busy, with his phone. You saw him swipe around the weather app multiple times. Denise didn't even try to make small talk, mostly because she couldn't even really talk about the match without annoying her son with the outcome.

"We're here," She eventually said, and you thanked god for that. "It was really great seeing you again, Denise!" The woman turned around to see your face one last time and lightly pinch your cheek, before turning to Jude and trying silently urge him to say something.

"I'll take you to your room—"

"Oh! Oh no, that's really not necessary, Jude, I can—"

"Come on." The footballer stepped out of the car.

Denise mouthed a quick and honest "I'm so sorry" after you sighed. Why would he want to prolong this absolutely awkward meeting again. Oh god, if he wants to 'talk it out' you're done with him.

Silently, you followed the young man through the lobby and past the reception, where he pressed the button for the elevator. It's glass doors mirrored the two of you and how you were standing nect to each other quite uncomfortably. Jude had his hands stowed away in his pockets and you were clutching your bag to you as if he'd snatch it any minute. Thankfully, it was really late and there weren't any other guests going in or out of the hotel. The stupid hotel lobby music was the only thing that filled the silence between you two and it was starting to get on your nerves.

Finally, the elevator arrived with a little 'Ding!'. "Ladies first." Jude muttered and let you go in before him. You didn't say thank you.

"So," Oh no, what an uncomfortable start already. "You and.. that guy, huh?" Jude asked while the elevator was going up. "What guy?" You asked back, just as dryly. "You know who I mean." This made you think back to the call you had with Joseph during the game and it made you cringe all over again. "Uh.. no. No, nothing's going on between me and.. that guy."

Jude sniffled. He turned his head to you and mustered you for a good minute, before the elevator doors opened and he let you step outside first. "Are you sure?" Were you? That was a good question. But being in Jude's vicinity made you sure again. "Yes I'm sure."

"You're not.. That's.. The jersey's blank."

"Yes, I know."

"I thought, maybe it was because you're with that guy now."

"No. I just didn't feel like it. You understand, right?"

After a quick stroll through the hallway, you came to a halt at your room's door. Jude sighed, since there were obviously still things he wanted to talk about.

"Why did you come? I thought you.. you wouldn't want to see me for a while?"

"I don't know myself, okay? Jesus, I don't know anything right now! I wish people would just leave me alone with all of this bullshit, okay? It has consumed my whole life for the last weeks. I just need some peace and quiet."

"Was the hug too much?"

You paused, leaning your hand on the door handle. "No, it wasn't." In reality, you had wished Jude would've just swept you up your feet, hugged you, said a proper sorry and kissed you. A kiss would make you fold, that's for sure. You both were so sickly in love and it wss obvious.

"I really want to fix this."

"Oh yeah? And you're doing that by how? By ignoring me? By not texting or calling me?"

"You didn't call either."

"You know damn well why I didn't reach out first, Jude! You fucking hurt my feelings! You made me cry! You said you'd never..."

Jude held his breath at your words, suddenly feeling like an alien standing in front of you. "I'm sorry. I'm a coward. Please let me fix this." He begged one more time and just watched you dig around your bag for the card key to your room.

"I think you should go, Jude Bellingham."

"I don't want to go! Please just, talk to me! Communicate! We can make this work, I'll be better. I promise."

"I'm really sorry for your 4-0 loss today."

Before you were able to completely go through the door, Jude grabbed you by your arm and slightly dragged you back to make you look at him.

"I'm being serious. Because I have serious feelings for you."

"I was serious, too."

"I'll prove myself. I promise."

You removed your arm from his grip, glaring at him through your eyelashes. "You better not fucking break it."

And you were gone. In your room. And he was left all alone again in front of it.

[makeitworse]

GIRLFRIEND

♪ 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 (𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧) TRACK #11

his girlfriend, that’s what everyone knows you as— even though jiyong still has yet to officially ask.

𝓬ontains: f!reader x jiyong. resolved tension. teasing. down bad jiyong. fluff. switch dynamic. smut! (fingering, blowjob). 18+

𝓷otes: i did not intend for the closing fic to be so smut focused but .. here we are lol. this event has been so much fun, thank u for all the love and support i adore u ♡♡

you’d hear it more than your own name.

“hyung, your girlfriend’s here!”

“listen when your girlfriend speaks, bro.”

from the bigbang boys to the 2ne1 girls, their managers and their assistants, even producer teddy— hell, you wouldn’t doubt it reached YG himself.

“haven’t you heard? they say you’re his girlfriend.”

the tension between you and jiyong had been a tug of war for months. for a while it was “will they or won’t they”, until people caught on that there’s no leaving jiyong’s sights once they’re set on you. so it become a matter of “when will they”— and you’ve been in limbo ever since.

it’s a known fact that you belong to him. unofficially, of course. you’re not his girlfriend. not actually. not yet.

because he hadn’t even asked.

jiyong let others do the talking for him. after all the push-and-pull, you’d think he’d have the confidence to say the magic words with his whole chest. but he always got cold feet around you. you were practically his, and your lips hadn’t even been introduced.

it gets to the point that one day, you wake up and decide to fuck with him until he grows some balls. dangle the idea in front his face. make him squirm until he has no choice but to actually ask you out.

once, you’d been curled up on the couch with him: his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. you nuzzled back until you pressed flush against his body. you literally felt his breath stop— his warmth pressing into your back. you stifled a wicked grin.

“why can’t we do this all the time?” you cooed to him oh so innocently.

his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed at your ear, fingers twitching on your stomach. you’ve served the opening for him on a silver platter: all he needs to do is speak it into existence.

“you tell me.” he murmured.

you should’ve just punched him.

encounters where you tip-toed over the line became the norm— but only as friends, of course. what else would you be?

brushing your lips over the shell of his ear just to whisper something unimportant. pulling him in with your hands on his neck and cupping his face with a smile.

but you don’t kiss him. no, never. what does he take you for? no pre-dating kisses around here.

he needs to ask first. you both know it. and it’s killing jiyong.

it starts how it always does: jiyong hovering near you like a second shadow.

you’ve joined them as company in the studio while the boys record, laughing with bom and sandara on the couch while you sip from an iced coffee. he’s pretending not to stare— nodding along to whatever youngbae’s saying that wasn’t reaching his ears— but you know better. you feel it. how could you not?

he’s sure you’re trying to drive him crazy. the way your lips part for the straw, tongue flicking out before you wrap them around the plastic, eyes darting up to meet his gaze. you’re checking if he’s watching your little show. and you’re grinning.

jiyong’s jaw hardens, turning his attention back to youngbae— who he hadn’t even noticed wasn’t talking anymore. just staring at him, brows raised.

“will your girlfriend be a distraction?”

“she’s not—” jiyong cuts himself off with an exhale, mouth pressing into a firm line. “no, she won’t.”

youngbae turns to the computer, running over some tweaks to the lyrics. it’s an effort for jiyong to keep his eyes trained on the screen; his ears are damn near ringing with the sound of you giggling behind him.

you sounded so cute. it’s not anything he hadn’t heard before, or got out of you himself— it’s just, each passing day, he got more butterflies than the first time you met. he thought they’d calm down once he realised the interest was mutual. but they’ve only grown more restless. and so have you.

he’s worried, you know. every day that he doesn’t ask, all the fleeting moments where it would’ve been perfect to— he’s worried about losing you.

he thinks something’s wrong with him.

every woman on the street has your face. whatever anyone says sounds like your voice. since meeting you, he’s a fool who can’t stop smiling. how can you be so pretty?

there’s footsteps passing by him. he glances over at sandara, pointing her head towards you as she walks out. jiyong glares at her. she just smirks, door shutting behind her.

everyone knows.

youngbae’s focused on typing on the keyboard, so he steals a glance at you, and you’re already looking. his knees could buckle under the weight of your gaze. your smiles says it all— like you own him, like you’re fully aware of how far under his skin you are. it’s infuriating. because it’s true.

he faces youngbae again, but overhears you telling bom you’ll be back. jiyong swallows thickly as you set your coffee on the table and get up off the couch, presence ghosting by him as you disappear down the hall.

the words leave his mouth before he can even process the thought— and suddenly jiyong’s excusing himself too.

he follows your footsteps to a lone storage room hoarding spare equipment. and you’re waiting for him when he opens the door. picking your nails as you leaned against the wall, like you’re in no rush. like you expected him.

“you always follow me.” you giggle, voice soft, eyes daring.

“you always run.” he counters, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

you shrug. “still waiting for someone to catch me.”

jiyong sighs, frustration audible. you just smile.

“i don’t want to play at this anymore.” his voice is low, rough at the edges. his jaw tightens like he’s straining to hold something back.

you hum in thought, shifting your weight as your arms cross over your chest; jiyong’s eyes following every little movement.

you close in on him with small, drawn-out steps. “you should’ve just asked.”

“you should’ve said yes,”

“i would’ve.”

you’re so close, enough for your breath to fan jiyong’s cheek. his lips part, maybe thoughtlessly— eyes darting over your face. tentative.

“then say it,” his voice barely above a whisper. “say yes now.”

you pout at him: defiant. teasing. “to what? you haven’t asked.”

he cusses under his breath, low and guttural, and then his hands are on you. firm grip on your waist, jiyong pulls you against him, the warmth of your bodies pressing together. his eyes are dark: hunger eclipsing his impatience.

“you drive me fucking crazy.”

you smirk. “glad to hear.”

“no, you don’t get it,” he asserts. “all i hear is that you’re my girl. from everyone. daesung even told my mother— and you still act like it’s not real.”

“it’s very real, ji.” your knuckles come to brush his cheek. his jaw tenses under your featherlight touch. “you just need to say it.”

“i’m getting there.” he murmurs.

your arms come to wrap around his neck, leaning in till your lips are a breath away from his. “better hurry, jiyong. might lose me.”

he stills. his fingers twitch on your side. then: “not happening.”

jiyong’s mouth comes crashing onto yours. it’s all fire, like he’s making up for lost time, every moment you hadn’t kissed. the force has your head tilting back, and you push him off just as you get the urge to kiss him back. not yet.

he blinks at you, breathless. you can feel his heart thudding under the palm on his chest. you give him a soft smile, tilting your head. you’re waiting, he realises.

jiyong clears his throat. he runs a hand through his hair, a little self-conscious for being so forward. but can you blame a man?

his hands come to hold your one resting on his chest. and then finally, softly: “be my girlfriend?”

you grin, confident as ever. “i’ll think about it.”

jiyong clicks his tongue, but you swallow the noise as you lean in, lips smothering his. he’s slower this time as he returns the kiss. patient. his mouth opens for you, and you catch a small noise escape his throat as your tongue teases his. you’re sure he feels it when your lips curl into a smile.

in retaliation, jiyong slips his hand beneath your shirt. you gasp at the sensation— his palm flat and hot on your bare skin.

your hand snakes around his neck, lacing your fingers in his hair as the kisses heat up. jiyong grows more daring, pinching your chin to tip your head back, allowing his tongue to delve deeper; taste more of you.

your fingers curl around a tuft of hair, and jiyong sighs as your nails graze his scalp. but then you pull— his mouth coming off of yours with a wet pop as you tug his head back.

jiyong’s groan blends into a snicker. foreboding is the only way to describe the sound.

you softly bite your lip as jiyong looks back at you through half-lidded eyes. you hope it might disarm him.

you stifle the urge to shudder as he leans in again, agonisingly slow, and kisses the corner of your mouth. his lips barely graze yours— a stark contrast to how he was basically eating your face a minute ago.

he trails down to your jaw and leaves another there. then down your neck, trailing kisses all the way to your clavicle. they’re all charged with something you couldn’t quite place— possessiveness, maybe. like he’s finally staking his claim.

goosebumps erupt across your flesh as he takes the skin into his mouth, sucking lightly. just enough to leave proof that he was there.

the hand on your stomach creeps downward, slipping under your waistband, and you can’t help how your hips roll at his touch. his laugh rumbles on your collarbone. you want to slap him for being so cocky. you want to beg him to keep going.

his fingertips glide over the fabric of your panties, stopping where your bikini line ends. he presses a kiss to your lips, and you breathe out his name. he cocks his head.

“hm?” he’s not even trying to hide his smug grin. “still thinking?”

you swallow down the cusses sizzling on your tongue. you don’t want him to have a change of heart, pull away when his fingertips are ghosting over right where you want them.

you snatch jiyong’s throat into your hand, fingers curling around his neck— not tight, just present. a reminder. he’s quick to suppress a groan.

“i need convincing.”

and that’s all jiyong has to hear.

confident now, his hand slips under the fabric of your panties, and you gasp as his fingertips tap your folds. his breath fans heavy on your mouth, eyes never leaving you— watching every twitch of your face as he moves his fingers.

jiyong cusses when he feels just how wet you’ve gotten for him. his mouth’s on yours again, and you whimper onto his tongue when his fingers glide over your clit.

he repeats the action, rubbing little stripes with his fingers that has your mind going foggy. you’re eager, desperate for more, your hips buck in rhythm with his hand on your clit. he stills you with a firm hand on your waist, then his palm shifts to cradle you by the small of your back. your hands fist in the fabric of his shirt.

each of your moans into the kisses only drives jiyong crazier— he trades his fingers for his thumb, rubbing quick circles on your clit as his digits come to tease your entrance.

dignity be damned, you break the kiss to whine: “ji, please,”

you choke out when two fingers stretch you open. his brows raise, watching you unravel for him with a smile on his face. he sets an unforgiving pace: ramming his fingers into you with his thumb focused on swirling your clit. you’re mumbling an incoherent string of words, the coil in your stomach tightening with his fingers working at you so perfectly.

“i’ve got you.” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against your jaw to suck little kisses on your neck. your cries fall right into his ear.

when his fingers curl to hit that spot to make you see stars, the balloon inside you pops.

you cum like that: jiyong’s hand rocking into your g-spot, his thumb attentive on your clit, his palm on your back holding you flush against him, his lips nipping at the skin of your neck. it’s all too much. you’re not sure what leaves your mouth— his name blending with broken pleas and cusses. he’s surprised his shirt doesn’t rip from how tight you gripped it.

he doesn’t stop until you’re coherent; asking him to stop, sensitive to the touch. he (reluctantly) drags his hand off of you, holding your gaze as he pops his fingers into his mouth. you’re still hazy from your orgasm, but the sight of him cleaning up your taste with his tongue has your flame reigniting.

your hand grabs his hard-on through his pants, and jiyong nearly keels over.

he forgets himself, head falling on your shoulder as you rub your palm over his length. he’s hot, and you chuckle when you feel a damp spot on the fabric.

“your turn.” you coo.

he laughs breathlessly. “it won’t take much—”

you hear how his breath stops as he watches you lower yourself to your knees.

your palm rubs at him steadily, pulling little gasps from jiyong’s mouth. you maintain eye contact as your knuckles hook over his waistband, pulling both layers down in one tug.

he buried his hand in your hair like he’s petting you, his pupils swallowed by black in adoration.

your pretty fingers wrap around his length. it’s an effort to not buck into your hand— he doesn’t want to be impolite, but god, did he need more.

your thumb swipes over his head to catch a bud of pre-cum, and jiyong has to stop his eyes from rolling. he thinks he can’t get any harder— but then your lips press a kiss to his tip. he could cum right then from the sight.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathes.

you smile in kind. it’s all that prepares him for you taking his length into your mouth.

a choke escapes jiyong’s throat— he has to still his hips, resist the urge to buck further into the damp warmth of your mouth.

he clenches his jaw, sucking in a breath through his teeth as you drag your mouth over him, wrapping a tight fist around the base of his dick.

your wrist turns on his length, and he’s moaning, holding onto your hair like a lifeline.

after you came, jiyong had planned to lift you up, fuck you against the wall. maybe he got too ahead of himself. he wasn’t going to last for much longer like this.

“shit, can— can i,” he blabbers, dick already pulsing on your tongue as your head bobs at a relentless rhythm. “let me fuck you, please,”

your mouth comes off him with a wet smack. he shudders at the sudden absence of your warmth— but that thought dissolves as your hand rides up, stroking just the tip, palm riding over his frenulum over and over. he’s shameless as he asks again. you just pout up at him.

“so soon? ji,” you coo, not even hiding your smile. “what happened to taking a girl out first?”

you don’t spare him a second to reply— jiyong cries out when your mouth latches back onto him, cheeks hollowing while your fist rides over the rest of his dick.

and once you glance up at him, batting your lashes with glossy lips, a smile curling around his length: he’s gone.

it’s all a whiney string of please’s and thank you’s falling from jiyong’s mouth as he cums. your wrist glides up and down in between sharp twists, tongue unrelenting as you suck on his tip. his pelvis stammers, his vision blinding white, and warm ropes of cum shoot down your throat.

you give him a second to catch his breath, dragging yourself off of him. he hisses when you give his sensitive tip a light squeeze as you pull your hand off.

jiyong coughs— throat raw from moaning. heat creeps up his neck, acutely aware of how loud he must’ve been. flustered, he gazes down at you, smirking up at him with a hand coated in cum.

you maintain eye contact as your tongue drags over your palm, lapping up the residue. his dick twitches at the sight of you returning the favour. fuck, give him a moment to recover, and he’ll be just about ready for round two.

you kiss the tip of his dick as it softens, before tucking it back into his boxers and straightening up his waistband. you rise from your feet. jiyong’s in utter awe.

“nothing in the world compares to you,” he reveres, eyes full of stars. “my girlfriend.”

he says it like he’s testing the word on his tongue. he repeats it under his breath as he cups your cheeks, leaving quick pecks all over your face.

you chuckle, giving his shoulder a light shove.

“took you long enough.”

Liked by chaelincl, ttt and others

peaceminusone my one and only

daraxxi OMG finally! newharoobompark was this taken in the storage room? ⠀⠀⠀teddypark__ 🤨 d_lable_official mother and father of YG family 💛

tags: @namsgyu @mashtatosworld @gds-daisy @gdinthehouseee @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @eru-vande @emmiesoverthemoon @petersasteria @breakmeoff @seungttttop @keiraryan @moontabi @mintandmuse @steponupbabe @heartubeatusalon @burningheartdetective @thanosspills @aizshallnotbefound @ttturnitup @lightinbug @sherrayyyyy @ferrarifinnick @riddlerloveb0t @loveesiren @pinkpunkdynamite @madebybec @hydeonysus @szonyix6277 + this anon

ty to everyone who tuned in <3

[eeniey-past-bedtime]

Headcanons: The Vampire

A/N: My sisters, misters and kissers i am under an INSANE ammount of pressure for my classes... so naturally who's up for some headcanons?-

I don't have alot of time to sit down and write so how about some lovely bits here about him i've collected over the past 3 days, if you guys like these lemme know and i'd happily do my other monsters. This is gender neutral of course-

Wanna tip me and buy my next coffee?

.

..

🕯️ Domestic Headcanons

- He's always trailing after you like a very elegant, affectionate shadow. You're never really alone in the house. Whether you're watering the greenhouse, folding laundry, or making tea, he's never far behind—occasionally pretending to be extremely helpful by handing you one sock or standing with his arms crossed as if supervising a royal affair.

- He insists on reading aloud in the evenings. Curled up in front of the fire or in bed, he reads in that smooth voice of his. He’ll occasionally pause to whisper a line against your skin instead of continuing, especially if it's particularly romantic.

- He makes the bed every evening rather than morning. He believes in creating a ritual of comfort: smoothing the sheets, fluffing the pillows, folding his wings carefully to curl up beside you. He doesn't sleep—but he cherishes lying beside you in the dark, listening to your breathing.

- He leaves notes when he goes out at night. Written in flowing, almost calligraphic handwriting—some dramatic "Gone to haunt the moon, return before dawn", some mundane "Found a raccoon in the greenhouse again. Will resolve.", and some terribly sweet "You are my eternity. Drink water. Wear socks. Love you always."

- He tends to your garden when you're not looking. Not because he knows what he’s doing, but because he likes pretending he's helping. (He once tried to “gently encourage” a plant to grow by whispering poetry to it at midnight.)

💞 Soft & Romantic Headcanons

- He only ever calls you by pet names. "Darling," "my flame," "beloved," "little heart," "my light in the woods." He says your name like it's a secret prayer, but the nicknames are endless and chosen with affection every time.

- He kisses your wrist when you hand him something. Every time. Even a spoon. It’s reflexive, reverent, and without a hint of irony.

- He still gets overwhelmed with love at the strangest moments. You’ll be sweeping or humming to yourself, and he’ll just stand in the doorway, watching you with this look of pure awe, like he can’t believe you’re real.

- He loves brushing your hair. Whether long, short, curly, or coiled, he handles it like a sacred ritual—fingertips reverent, quiet praise spilling from his lips about how soft and beautiful you are.

- He keeps something of yours in his coat pocket when he goes out. A ribbon, a button, a tiny sketch you doodled on a receipt—he carries it like a talisman.

💋 Teasing & Playful Headcanons

- He acts scandalized every time you see him shirtless. Despite being centuries old and completely unbothered by blood and death, if you walk in while he’s changing, he’ll gasp, wrap his wings around himself dramatically, and say things like, “My love, please, avert your eyes! Such indecency… unless you mean to ravish me?” (ayo?-)

- He tries to sneak up behind you just to make you laugh. Not to scare you—he’d never—but to gently drape himself around your shoulders and murmur “Caught you…” before smothering you in affection and kisses.

- He’s deeply offended when you don’t kiss him goodnight. He’ll hover at the foot of the bed, all hurt and wing-sagging until you realize what you forgot. “You wound me, dearest. This may be my final hour.”

- He flirts with you like it’s 1784. Yes i'm being specific. Endless poetic metaphors, over-the-top comparisons, and sonnet-worthy compliments. You could sneeze and he’d say, “Oh, to be the breeze that dares to kiss your lips!”

- He steals your clothes but pretends they’re gifts. “This sweater? Yours? I thought you gave it to me—to remember your warmth!”

..

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[syndrossi]

Restoration is my favorite AU!! I think about it constantly. Has Daemon put together that the candle in Resonant was torturing him with the future visions of Rhaegar/Jon’s deaths. Restoration Rhaegar has already met his fate but Winterfell! Jon can be saved. When he first hears that Winterfell!Jon has been trying to take the black, what is his response? I know he’d never let it happen, but does he have a really strong reaction, thinking of Jon being stabbed to death? Does he forbid him to ever speak of it again? Does he blame Catelyn for putting the idea in his head? Does he threaten to burn something/anything just because the idea angers him? How does Daemon’s response make littleJon feel, knowing in the original timeline no one tried to stop him/save him?

Hearing the details of Restoration!Rhaegar's death at the Trident is enough for Daemon to put the pieces together and assume he saw his sons' "reincarnations" die. Given that he arrived fourteen years too late for Rhaegar, he assumes that Jon perished at the time as well, and resolves to continue searching for his own living sons.

But when he finally makes it to Winterfell and meets W!Jon, it becomes clear that he was the Jon of his vision. Throw in R!Rhaegar volunteering that Maester Aemon is at the Wall and that they should go to him, and we might get W!Jon admitting that he had considered joining the Night's Watch until his "little brothers" appeared. Which, after Daemon resumes breathing, leads to some pointed questioning about whose idea that had been and whether Lord Stark had supported such a foolish notion.

Only for Jon to accidentally put Ned directly in the crosshairs by telling Daemon that he hadn't forbidden it.

x~x~x

The letters on his table were stacked two hands tall, all of them from within the past week. It was nearly more than Ned received throughout an entire year, and the rookery had already run out of roosts for the incoming ravens. Every lord within the realm demanded answers that Ned hardly knew how to give.

The sound of footfalls heavy with purpose drew his gaze from the letter he had been hunched over. Ned leaned back in his chair, stretching his aching back, just in time for the door to slam open.

King Daemon Targaryen was not a subtle man, nor was he a calm one. In that, he and Robert were not so different. Even so, Ned was caught off guard when, as he rose to his feet, the king seized him by the throat and shoved his back against the wall. There was death in his eyes, a wild fury that sent a chill down Ned's spine. He had been to King's Landing but twice during the reign of Aerys Targaryen, and had only glimpsed the man from afar, but he too had seemed to boil and froth with rage.

Have I betrayed the realm to yet another Mad King?

He stared into the man's eyes, a purple so alike that of his son, Aemon, and yet with none of the child's solemn calm, and though his lungs burned for air, he forced himself to still. It was impossible not to imagine his brother's final moments, strangled by his own desperation to save their father while the Mad King laughed.

"You meant to send Jon to the Wall," the king before him snarled.

The grip on his throat loosened, freeing Ned to take a breath, presumably that he might speak. That is what this is about?

"It was a path that he discussed with me," he said, resisting the impulse to massage his throat. "His uncle is a ranger there. He would have been among family."

"I am his family," Daemon hissed, eyes darkening further. "And you would have so easily cast him out for the inconvenience he posed yours. Was that your plan? That you might be rid of him at last?"

Ned stared at the king, struck dumb. "I thought that he would be safer there," he said at last. "He could never have accompanied me, had I gone to King's Landing as Robert's Hand."

The king's lip curled. "And your lady wife would have tossed him out the moment you left."

Ned chose his next words very carefully, for the king's ire toward Cat was a dangerous thing. "He would have lacked for both opportunity and prospects here. If he were at the Wall—"

"He would have had even fewer." Daemon rested a hand on his sword, the famed Dark Sister, thumb caressing the tip of her pommel. "You sought to deny him his birthright by having him swear it away himself, ignorant of who he truly is."

"There were no dragons until you brought three to our shores," Ned said. "He could never be more than my bastard, not when it would be death to be anything else."

"You would have sent him to his death!" The king began to pace, and now that the deadly edge to his rage had subsided, his face was haggard, his eyes haunted instead. "I have seen it. I have seen it again and again. I have held him in my hands and felt his life's blood flow through my fingers."

The anguish with which he spoke was too raw to be fiction, yet the words made no sense. "I do not understand, Your Grace."

"Dragon dreams. I did not fully believe before. I thought the visions to be a lie until I heard of my son's death at the Trident."

His son—? Rhaegar, Ned realized at last. For a man tied to the slain prince and his son through marriage alone, the king had seemed to wholly embrace Rhaella Targaryen's line. He had a vague recollection of dragon dreams. They had been said to be a strange gift of House Targaryen, a relic of their ties to Old Valyria. There were some who said that Prince Daeron the Drunk had been plagued by such dreams.

"Your Grace—"

"I watched those black-hearted turncoats of the Watch stab him again and again, even when he was helpless on the ground." Daemon's eyes, which had clenched shut, shot open. "I shall find them. I know their faces. They will burn."

[zyart-jpg]

"Where are you now when I need you most?"

Pairing: Wooin Yoo x Reader (18+)

Summary: It took one question for things to falter.

Tags: Slight angst, SMUT, Established RS, Slow-burn, MDNI

A/N: this is the first ever smut I've officially posted. Nothing crazy lol just something sweet (?) because someone asked for it REPEATEDLY in my asks. I can't tag you bcs ur anon but here you go hehe.

A/N2: 18+ BANNER CREDITS TO @cafekitsune

It started with a question.

“Would you ever consider marrying me, Wooin?”

Just seven words. Casual—almost careless. Tossed into the quiet like a pebble across still water.

You hadn’t meant it to carry weight. Just a stray thought, slipping out during a peaceful midnight—both of you curled on the couch, half-watching a show he didn’t care for but sat through anyway because you asked.

But for him, it landed like a stone to the chest.

You saw it—the way his body stiffened, how his gaze faltered like you’d brushed a nerve he’d buried deep. He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the screen like he hadn’t heard you. Like ignoring it would make the moment pass.

Then he scoffed.

Muttered something about how stupid he’d have to be to get tied down, and looked away like you weren’t even worth the question.

And then it all unraveled.

One minute, you were warm under the covers, limbs tangled. The next, you were trading barbed words that cut too deep. Voices raised. Things said you wish you could take back. 

And finally���silence.

It’s been days.

No calls. No texts. Nothing.

Just silence—heavy, unresolved. Sitting in your chest like a bruise. You’re still raw from the argument, still haunted by the question you can’t undo. Still wondering if you should’ve stopped him from leaving, if you should’ve asked him to stay—maybe you shouldn't have asked that damned question in the first place.

You hate fighting with him.

Not because he gets angry—he does. He pushes back when it stings. Knows exactly where to aim when he’s hurt.

But it’s the aftermath that crushes you.

The way he disappears into silence like it’s an armor. No apologies. No attempts. Just time. Just distance. Like waiting it out is enough.

And maybe that’s what hurts the most.

You hate it because he never reaches out first. He can go days without your voice. Without checking if you’re okay. Not because he doesn’t care—he does, you know he does. But he won’t be the one to crack first.

You just wish—for once—he’d need you enough to break the silence.

You hadn’t blocked him. Couldn’t. You still stared at his name in your contacts more often than you’d admit. Still opens your old chat sometimes just to scroll. Still waited for that familiar notification tone you swore you’d stopped hoping for.

The days stretched into weeks, each one quieter than the last. The silence wasn’t just absence—it was torture. Every hour without a word from him gnawed at the edges of your resolve, until desperation finally cracked it wide open.

But you didn’t cave to him.

You caved to the closest thing you could reach him through—Joker.

You didn’t say much. Just a quiet, “Hey. Is he okay?” sent too late at night to be casual.

The reply came fast, but cold.

Bar.

That was it. No follow-up. No comfort.

You weren’t sure what was worse—the silence from Wooin or the one-word scraps you had to beg from someone else.

You told yourself the tears would stop. That you’d get over this. But they still stung beneath the surface, waiting to fall every time you let your mind wander.

Were you still something to him? Or had one fight been enough to erase everything?

You played it over and over. The way your voice cracked. The sharpness in his tone. The door slamming shut behind you. And the fact that neither of you turned back.

By the third week, your apartment felt colder. Emptier. Even when it was spotless. Even with music playing, or shows looping in the background like white noise trying to drown out the ache.

His absence had settled into everything—your sheets, your couch, the air itself. It clung to your skin, heavy and still, like gravity pressing you down.

You stopped keeping track of the days. The nights bled into mornings. Blankets curled around you like armor, still faintly smelling like him. Your body ran on autopilot—barely eating, barely sleeping. Crying came in waves, but even the tears felt exhausted now.

It was grief. 

That’s what it was—grieving someone who was still alive. Still somewhere out there. Just no longer choosing you.

And the worst part?

You didn’t want anyone else—you just wanted him.

Even after everything. Even after the silence.

But maybe—just maybe—the world hadn’t turned completely cruel.

Not yet.

Because just as you’d finally forced yourself to get up, to shower, to piece yourself together for the first time in days and try to step out into the city that didn’t stop moving without him—there it was.

A knock.

Firm. Then again. And again.

You froze by the door, breath caught like a bird in your throat—and suddenly, everything in you dared to hope.

A part of you hoped—prayed—it was him behind the door when you pulled it open. 

You told yourself not to get your hopes up. Told yourself it was probably a neighbor. Maybe a delivery to the wrong unit. Anything but him.

But nothing could’ve prepared you for the way your heart stuttered when your eyes met his.

Wooin stood there—rain clinging to his hair, clothes wrinkled like he hadn’t been sleeping, eyes bloodshot but blazing. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t give you the chance to ask.

Because the moment the door opened, he stepped inside like he couldn’t bear being kept out another second. His hands gripped your waist as he pushed you gently back into the apartment, kicked the door shut behind him, and locked you in his arms as though letting go would kill him.

You didn’t speak��not yet. Neither did he. But his breathing was shallow, chest pressed hard against yours, like he’d been holding in everything for days and now it was all trying to escape at once.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, finally. The words cracked in the middle, thick with emotion. “I was a fucking idiot.”

You didn’t argue. You couldn’t. Your fingers were already clinging to the back of his shirt, nails digging in just to feel that he was real. Here. 

Finally.

“I didn’t mean it,” he went on, his mouth brushing the side of your face, your temple. “What I said. I just—panicked. I’ve never had someone ask me something like that. It scared the hell out of me.”

His hands slid to your cheeks, lifting your face so you’d look at him. So you’d see he meant every word.

“But you… you’re everything I never thought I could have. Everything I don’t want to lose.”

Your lips parted to respond, but he kissed you first—soft, desperate, like he was begging for forgiveness and anchoring himself to you all at once. Like every silent day had led up to this one moment.

The kiss deepened, turned breathless. Heated.

You barely registered when your back hit the wall, or when your shirt slipped halfway down your shoulder. All you felt was him—his heat, his hunger, the way his hands moved with a desperation that bordered on pleading.

This wasn’t just sex.

It was something deeper—something aching.

He wasn’t chasing lust. He was chasing closeness, comfort, the kind of reassurance you can only ask for through touch. Through bare skin and breathless apologies murmured into the curve of your neck, like he was trying to say sorry without breaking the moment.

He didn’t rush it.

He held your face like something sacred, murmured your name like a prayer between kisses.

“I thought if I stayed away, I’d calm down. But I didn’t,” he said against your throat. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I kept waiting for you to call. To scream at me. Just... anything.”

You pulled him in closer, mouth finding his own again. And he kissed you like he was trying to erase every second of that cruel silence, every stupid word exchanged that night.

You didn’t need to ask if he still wanted you.

His hands said it all.

And so did the way he led you to the bedroom—gentle, reverent, like a sailor laying foot on land after years at sea.

You didn’t realize how much you needed him until he was inside you—slow, deep, grounding. Until your back arched off the mattress, his breath ghosting against your lips, his name a tremble caught between your teeth.

“Fuck…” he groaned, low and ragged, his voice cracked open by the weight of everything he hadn’t said. His hips rolled forward, heavy with longing. “I missed this—I missed you. So fucking much…”

Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him deeper, and he gave in without hesitation. Skin met skin with a wet, rhythmic slap, the room filling with the raw sounds of need—your broken gasps, his desperate groans, the bed creaking beneath the weight of everything that had gone unsaid for too long.

Every time he drove into you, a moan spilled from your lips—sharp, breathless, uncontrolled.

“Wooin—please,” you whimpered, nails digging into his back, clinging like he was the only thing anchoring you to the earth.

More. You needed more. Of him. Of this. Of everything he took with him when he walked away.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—fuck, I’m so sorry…” he choked out between thrusts, his forehead pressing into yours, voice trembling into your mouth. “I didn’t mean that shit—I just... fuck—God, you feel so good.”

His pace quickened, rhythm stuttering as his need began to overtake his restraint. He grunted every time he bottomed out, breath thick and ragged, fingers digging into your hips like he needed to feel every inch of you against him.

“You’re mine,” he growled, each word punctuated by a thrust. “This—you—fuck, you’re mine.”

Your moans spiraled higher, breath catching as your body trembled beneath him. The headboard knocked faintly against the wall, syncing with the messy, urgent rhythm between your bodies.

“I—I’m yours,” you gasped, eyes fluttering shut, your voice breaking as your body clenched around him. “‘m yours—Wooin, please—”

He groaned, rough and guttural, tightening his grip on your waist. He pushed into you again—rougher now, needier—like he couldn’t stand the idea of anything between you. His mouth hovered over your skin, your name slipping out in cracked, reverent murmurs.

You felt him everywhere—his hands, his weight, his breath, his heat—like gravity, like possession.

“Mine,” he growled again, the word torn from his throat. “Fuck—mine, all of you.”

All you could do was cry out his name, your release pooling in your stomach. Your fingers curled around the nape of his neck, clinging like you might shatter without him. Lips trembling, you choked out broken pleas between gasps, voice breathless and high. 

“I-I’m gonna c-cum—Wooin, p-please—please don’t stop—”

The words barely made it out—more breath than voice—before you yanked him closer, burying your cries in the crook of his neck. Your mouth trembled against his skin, your voice cracking as need and release blurred into something dizzying and raw.

He held you tighter, arms locking around your back like he could feel you falling apart and needed to keep every piece of you intact. His thighs pushed yours apart, driving deeper—closer.

“Yeah?” he panted, voice rough between staggered breaths. His hand slid to cradle the back of your head, keeping you flushed against him. “Gonna cum, pretty girl?” he murmured, lips brushing your temple.

You nodded quickly, gasping as your body gave in—trembling, clenching hard around him like you couldn’t let him go. 

"Go on, baby," he murmured, a breath against your ear—more ghost than voice, a reminder that he was still right there, wrapped around every edge of you. "Come ‘round me."

And when it hit, it wasn’t gentle.

It surged through you like a wave breaking too fast, too hard—knocking the breath clean from your lungs. Your cry got lost in his shoulder, teeth sinking into skin as your body trembled, and you felt him twitch deep inside, the sound he made more instinct than thought.

“M-mhm—y-yeah, like that—love, fuck—took me so well, huh?”

He groaned—low, guttural, like it was being torn straight from his chest—as he drove into you one final time, raw and aching. His hips stuttered, every muscle in his body drawn tight, trembling with the need to let go.

"Fuck—take it," he snarled, voice raw, forehead pressed to yours. "You feel that? That’s all yours, baby."

Then he broke.

Spilling inside you with a shudder, hands gripping so tight it felt like he was trying to anchor himself inside you, as if the world might fall away if he didn’t hold on.

As the high melted into quiet, he cupped your face and kissed you—slow, breathless, like a thank you, like a promise. His lips trembled against yours, still tasting of heat and something aching.

And then came the stillness.

Just heavy breathing and shared warmth, your limbs tangled, your bodies twitching with the aftershocks as you held on.

“…I’m gonna marry you—fuck, I’m gonna marry you.” he murmured, voice hoarse, almost in disbelief. “That’s my answer, love.”

His lips hovered just above yours, breath hot and erratic, still panting like he couldn’t catch it. You barely had a second to process the mess between your thighs, the oversensitivity, the aftershocks—before he shifted, still buried deep, still trembling. 

His hands were everywhere—gripping your thighs, dragging you closer, clutching at your waist like he couldn’t stand an inch of distance.

You yelped, “W-Wait—!” palm braced against his slick chest, trying to catch your breath, but he didn’t stop. Didn’t pause. Didn’t hear.

“No—no, I’m not done,” he gasped, voice unraveling, lips brushing yours as he rambled. 

“I’m gonna marry you, y’hear me? Gonna make you mine—forever, shit—‘m gonna give you everything, even the damn brats you always joked about—just—”

He sat back on his heels and hauled you into his lap, a rough, reverent motion that made you gasp again as your thighs trembled, still sore and soaked. His arms locked tight around you, grounding, caging, desperate.

“Don’t leave me,” he choked out, forehead pressing to yours like a prayer. “Not after this. Not after you let me love you like that—”

He groaned again—broken, undone—as his hips jerked up, instinctive, needy, grinding you down onto him in a slow, ruined rhythm that made your breath hitch and your fingers clutch at his shoulders.

"You got me—every part of me," he breathed, voice thick, trembling against your skin. "No one else—just you. You keep me like this, baby, please—don’t push me away now... I’m yours."

Your mind was spinning, heart a wild, aching thing in your chest. Still trembling, still sensitive—but you reached for him anyway. Kissed him like it hurt to be apart. Not from hunger. Not from need.

But like you were saying yes.

Like you were back home.

[mandaloriankait]

A/N: I'm back with another Joel fic bc we're just gonna pretend he's alive and well. *sobs quietly*

The header was done by the lovely and amazing @nonbinairyboi , I love youuuuu. 💞

Warnings: fluff, smut, unprotected pinv, headaches(is that a trigger? Idfk)

You walked into the bar in Jackson that morning, praying that someone both had and knew how to make coffee. You had only been there a couple of weeks, but getting back to civilization had taken some getting used to. Your morning headaches- which used to be cured by coffee before the world ended- were a near constant nuisance. Today, you were hoping to change that. You strode up to the bar and looked at Seth pleadingly. “Please tell me you have coffee back there.”, you said softly. He looked at you, eyes flitting to something behind you, and then he shrugged and said, “Your funeral.” 

Seth reached under the counter and pulled out a mug and a coffee pot, pouring the steaming hot liquid efficiently. You almost squealed in delight, but stopped yourself at the last second, taking the offered mug with a quiet thank you. You turned, looking around for a quiet table; finding one in the corner, you walked over and sat down. You stared at the dark brown liquid in the mug, a small grin gracing your face. Right as you were about to take a sip, someone slid into the chair across from you. You looked up, startled by the sudden appearance; it was Joel Miller. Everyone in town knew Joel, what with him being Tommy's brother and all. Still, you had never spoken to him, until now, apparently. You arched an eyebrow at him over the steaming mug. He glanced down at it before lifting his eyes back up to yours. 

“First cup is free, but after that it's gonna cost ya.”, he rumbled, staring at you intensely. You laughed a little, quickly stopping once you realized he was serious. “What, is all the coffee in town yours or something?”, you asked, finally taking a sip. You closed your eyes, biting back a moan as your head tilted back, savoring the taste. Unbeknownst to you, Joel was watching as you did this, swallowing hard as you tilted your head back, exposing the expanse of your neck. When your gaze refocused on him, he averted his eyes and hardened his gaze. “I'm the one that goes traipsin’ around for the beans, so yeah, you could say that.”, he responded, almost growling with how low his voice was. 

You scoffed, taking another sip slowly. “Ok, that's weird, but fine. What's it gonna run me? Because I don't think you understand just how much I need coffee, now that I know it's here.” Joel blinked; the threat of having to pay something was always enough to scare people off of his coffee, so he'd never had to come up with something. You stared back at him across the table, unblinking in your resolve. Smirking softly, you giggled and took another sip of your coffee. “You don't actually know what you want in return, do you?”, you asked, smirk widening. Finally, he shook his head, defeated. “Well, figure it out and let me know, Miller. Because I'm drinking this coffee, and I wouldn't want to owe you anything.” Without a word, he got up and left the bar, his own mug of coffee left behind on a separate table. You grinned into your mug, happy to have gone toe to toe with him and beaten him; it didn't look like that happened often. 

The next day you trudged into the bar, Seth immediately started pouring you a mug of coffee. “Bad night?”, he asked, looking you over as he handed the mug to you. You nodded, suppressing a yawn and waving your thanks to him before moving to the same table as before. You sat down and pressed the heel of your palm into your forehead, hoping it would dull the ache. You hadn't slept at all last night, and now you were dead tired; hopefully the coffee would help you make it through the day. You winced as the chair across from you scraped the floor before Joel sat down, this time with his own mug. You knew he was staring at you, but you didn't bother looking up as you massaged your head with your fingers. Finally, after a few minutes, you peered at him blearily. “What can I do for you?”, you asked softly, trying to keep an even tone. In truth, the thought of him sitting across from you for the second day in a row excited you. If only your pounding head would cooperate. 

Joel looked at you, his gaze softening slightly as he took in your hunched shoulders and pained facial expression. “You alright there darlin’?”, he asked, keeping his voice low and calm. You nodded quickly, then winced as your head pounded more at the movement. You brought the mug to your lips, downing half of it before Joel could blink. Placing your head back in your hands, you peeked at him through one eye. “You didn't answer my question.”, you accused, half a smirk pulling at your mouth. Huffing out a laugh, he glanced down at the table, then back at you. “I'll take some information in exchange for the coffee.”, he said, leaning forward in his chair. You lifted your head, squinting at him in the sunlight piercing through the windows. “Information? What kind of information?”, you asked, confusion passing over your face. “About you, for starters. What's with the coffee obsession sweetheart?”, he arched a brow at his words, his stare intense. 

With a sigh, you drained the rest of your coffee, set the mug down, and spoke. “I have these horrible headaches, and it used to be that coffee was the only thing that helped them, back before the world went to shit. So I wanted to try it again, hoping it would help.” “Well now you're just makin’ me feel bad for hasslin’ you.”, Joel smirked into his mug as you giggled softly. It was a sound he wanted to hear you make again and again. After a few more questions, you stood up. “Same time tomorrow, Miller?”, you asked with a smile. “Only if you call me Joel, darlin’.”, he responded. You nodded once, tossing him a smile and a wave as you headed out the door. 

It became a routine of sorts for you both. He was one of the first people you spoke to each morning, and you were one of the only people he spoke to all day. Then, one day, you didn't show up; he was sitting at your usual table with two mugs of coffee for at least an hour before giving up, draining them both quickly and leaving the bar. Joel made his way towards your house on the outskirts of the town, a house he had helped build himself. He paused at the door, hand raised, wondering what the hell he was even doing there. Your door suddenly opened and you came scrambling out, running smack into his broad frame. His hands shot out and grabbed you quickly, keeping you from falling off the porch. “Joel? What are you doing here?”, you asked, peering up at him, hands on his chest to steady yourself. “Darlin’, don't take this the wrong way, but you look awful.”, he murmured, his hands still on your waist. You sagged into him, pressing your head to his chest. “My head is killing me, worse than normal.”, you whined softly. Joel's gaze softened; he carefully pushed you back into your house, shutting the door behind him. You looked up at him, confusion evident on your face. “You need to get back in bed and sleep this off.”, he said, pushing you in the direction of your bedroom's open door. “Joel, I'll be fine, I just need some coffee.”, you murmured, standing your ground, “Besides, I can't sleep anyways.” 

Joel looked at you before striding into your bedroom himself, you trailing along behind him in a daze. He toed his shoes off before sliding into the bed, patting the space beside him. “C'mere sweetheart, you need your rest.”, he drawled quietly. Still in a daze, you managed to crawl under the covers next to him, laying there stiffly. Huffing out a laugh and rolling his eyes, he pulled you into him until your head was resting on his chest, his arm around your shoulders. With a sigh, you snuggled further into him, feeling his body heat leech into your tired body as you did. Soon, you were asleep, and Joel was left there, wide awake. He looked down at you, gently brushing a piece of hair out of your face before sliding further down into the bed in an attempt to get comfortable. 

When you woke up hours later, the sun was high in the sky. You tried to move, to get up, but soon realized you were pinned. Joel's arm was around your waist, holding onto you tightly; his head was buried in your neck and he was snoring softly. You smirked, wishing you had your phone so you could document this: big bad Joel Miller snuggled into you. Your smile faded as you thought about what it meant, why he had come inside, why he wanted to help you sleep. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't realize he was awake until you heard his voice. “What's goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?”, he rumbled, pulling his head out of your neck and back onto your pillow. You turned to look at him, his arm never leaving your waist, only loosening to allow you to move. “Why….why did you do this?”, you asked softly, placing a gentle hand on his chest. He shrugged, looking at you with a soft gaze that you hadn't seen before. “Y'needed some rest, figured this might be the best way to get it. Sometimes it helps when there's another person in bed. How's the headache?” 

You realized with a start that your head felt much better, the sharp pain having dulled to a barely there ache. You told him as much and he grinned smugly. You hit him in the chest softly, and then nearly launched off the mattress as he began to tickle your sides mercilessly. Somehow, you wound up underneath him as you begged him to stop; finally, he did, your laughter slowly fading as you realized the position you were in. Him on top of you, your legs splayed around his bulk, your arms around his neck. “Am I readin’ this wrong sweetheart?”, he murmured, gaze flickering down to your lips and then back up. Taking a deep breath, you shook your head; he immediately closed the distance between you and kissed you gently, softly. 

You kissed him back slowly, arms around his neck bringing him closer to you. His tongue pressed at the seam of your lips and you gasped, allowing him access. Slowly, the kiss turned heated, all tongues and teeth as you poured everything you had into it. Breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead to yours, both of you breathing heavily. Looking up at him, you giggled, him giving you a soft grin in return. You brought him back down for another kiss, and this time he pressed kisses to your jawline and your neck, sucking lightly. You whimpered, tangling a hand in his hair as his knee slid in between your thighs, pressing up against your core. His name escaped you in a whine as your hips bucked, pressing up against him, desperate for more friction. Joel smirked into your skin, biting down on your neck before soothing the bite with his tongue. You rocked your hips up against his and he groaned against you. “Fuck, baby, stop.”, he gritted out, pulling himself away from you. 

You looked up at him in confusion, fear flickering across your features. He noticed and immediately his gaze softened. “Darlin’, I want this. I want you, but I wanna take you out on a proper date first.”, he said, taking your hands in his large one. You sat up, a soft smile on your face. “Alright Miller, take me out then. Let's see what you've got.” He smirked at you, pulling you in for a chaste kiss before leaving your bed. “Tonight? I'll pick you up later.”, he returned, smiling as you confirmed. He pulled his boots back on before looking at you. “You sure you're alright?”, he asked. You nodded, leaning back against your headboard and stretching. Joel swallowed, looking away from you quickly as your shirt rode up, exposing the expanse of your stomach. With a wave, he turned and left your room, then your house, locking the door behind him.

You stood in front of your small closet, looking at your clothes. You didn't have much in the way of datewear, so one of your sundresses would have to do. You pulled out a deep blue one covered in flowers, pulling it on quickly and looking at yourself in the mirror. You smiled, turning this way and that to see how it hugged your curves perfectly. You heard a knock at the door and rushed out of your room in time for the door to swing open. Joel stood in the doorway, green flannel buttonup and blue jeans on. His eyes widened as he took you in, and he groaned low in his throat. “Fuck, darlin’, you look incredible.”, he murmured, coming closer to you and taking your hand in his. Your skin darkened at his words, glancing down at your feet shyly. He lifted your chin with two fingers, tilting your head up to look at him. He kissed you gently, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him close. He hummed against your lips, breaking the kiss and pressing his lips to your cheek. “Alright, let's go.”

Dinner at the Tipsy Bison was uneventful; if anything, it felt like a natural extension of what the pair of you had already been doing in the mornings. You talked and laughed, trading glances at each other all night. Finally, Joel couldn't take it anymore. “You wanna get out of here sweetheart?”, he asked lowly, already signalling for the bill. You nodded, eyes sparkling in the low light. As you walked back to your house, he pulled you into his side, wrapping an arm around your waist. You leaned against him as you walked, a smile on your face. “You wanna come in? I have whiskey.”, you asked as you arrived at your house. 

Whiskey was the last thing on Joel's mind; as soon as your door shut, he had you pressed against it, mouth on yours. You gasped in surprise, and his tongue slid into your mouth, gently massaging yours. You moaned into his mouth as his hands slid down to your waist, one sliding further to grip your ass. He pulled away from you and trailed kisses across your jawline and down your neck, causing you to whimper and tangle a hand in his curls. “Joel, please.”, you murmured, tugging him back up to your lips. “Bedroom, now.”, he groaned against you, grabbing your hand and pulling you after him. You giggled at his urgency but let out a yelp when he twirled you around, pushing you onto the bed gently. You laid there, staring up at him through your lashes as he started stripping his shirt off. Once he was done, he came closer, pushing your thighs apart, your dress rucking up around your waist. 

Joel groaned at the sight of the wet spot on your panties, running his index finger up and down your clothed slit. You whined, head falling back onto the bed with a thump. He eased your panties down your legs slowly, pressing kisses to your skin as he did so. He started pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses back up your legs, stopping to suck bruises into your inner thighs until you were writhing against him. “Joel, please, I need you.”, you whimpered, tugging at his arm. He smirked against your sensitive skin, laving his tongue over where it was darkening. Finally, finally, he reached your dripping pussy, breathing you in slowly before diving in. He licked a long stripe up your slit before tonguing at your entrance, and you keened, your back arching off the bed at the sensation. His nose nudged at your clit as he thrust his tongue into you, causing you to gasp out his name breathlessly, hand curling into his hair, the other grasping his forearm across your belly. 

You were grinding your hips as best you could against his face, chasing his mouth on you. When he pulled your clit into his mouth and sucked hard, you were done for, cumming against his mouth with a high pitched whine of his name. Soon, it became too much and you pushed at him, forcing him off you. You looked down at him, his mouth covered in your slick, as he crawled up your body. Joel pressed his mouth to yours, tongue sliding in, allowing you to taste yourself. You groaned into his mouth at the taste of both of you, grinning into the kiss. You broke the kiss, both of you panting heavily as he started grinding his hips against yours. You whimpered his name, hands reaching down between you to thumb at the button of his jeans. “These need to come off, now. Please.”, you ordered. Joel nodded, lifting himself off you to fully strip. You sat up, pulling your dress off and unhooking your bra, throwing both to the floor. By the time he was done, you were completely bare; he groaned, drinking in the sight of you. “Goddamn darlin’, you're a fuckin’ vision.” He said, climbing back onto the bed and over your body. 

You laid back as he began pressing kisses to your chest, stopping to suck first one, then your other nipple into his mouth, nibbling on them lightly. You arched your back, pressing him further against your chest. By the time he was done, your body felt like a live wire, tight and electric. Joel grasped his cock, running it through your folds a few times, gathering your slick. You whimpered, bucking your hips, trying to force him inside. Finally, he pushed in; the stretch was heavenly. Your jaw slackened as he bottomed out, face buried in your neck as he groaned. Then, he started to move. Slow at first, allowing you to get used to his size. Then, he carefully picked up the pace until he was pounding into you, muttering absolute filth into your ear. You cried out when he hit the spongy spot inside you, hands scrabbling at his shoulders. “Fuck, such a good girl, takin’ me so damn well.”, he muttered, sucking your earlobe into his mouth, teeth worrying it gently. 

“C'mon darlin’, I can feel you gettin' close. Cum all over my cock for me like a good girl.”, he murmured into your ear, hips beginning to stutter. He reached between you and started rubbing your clit in fast, tight circles, and that was it. Your vision whitened as you came, gushing all over his cock. He followed you over the edge as you clenched around him, biting down on your shoulder lightly. He stilled inside you, both of you panting heavily. Joel kissed you softly, your lips moving together gently. “Thank god for coffee, right?”, you murmured, pressing your forehead to his. He laughed, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Thank god for coffee.”, he agreed.

[theegyal]

When I Was Your Man [ Annie x Smoke ]

⚠️: Smut, dirty talks, nasty, pimp, manipulation, emotional cheating

A/N : this story is still not a FULL SERIE , might have 5 parts or less (I initially said 3 but yikes 😬)

Part 2

Annie gave her boyfriend a look.The lumberjack understood, stepped back inside, closing the door behind him. She let out a long sigh, arms folded tightly across her chest.

"Smoke," she said flatly, ignoring the fast rhythm of her heart.

Not two, not even three, but seven years had collapsed into one another since he disappeared without a word. She had gone crazy, asking everyone in the Delta where he was, never once did she believe  the rumors about him and Stack running off to Chicago... not until she got tired of waiting.

Now, here he was. Handsomer. Stronger. Sharp figure. Certainly richer.

He probably thought she would take him back. Because they had a child. Because he used to be her soulmate.

"Ain't even let me in." Smoke sucked his teeth, glancing over her shoulders

"We weren't expecting any visitors." She said, lowering her gaze to her feet. "It would be disrespectful"

Nonetheless, she had moved on. Anders helped her grieve, sitting at her bedside while she mourned her daughter. He was there through the uncertainty, not knowing if his feelings would ever be returned. That man loved her until she learned to love herself again.

The nights were torrid — still were — and he adored every inch of the body Smoke had rejected when he turned his back on her.

Annie was irritated. Angry.

Not just because she still harbored lingering feelings for Smoke, but because he had the nerve to insult Anders just by showing up.

How brave of him, coming back to her house like it was a damn mill.

Annie was no pawn to be taken and discarded once someone got their fill.

"Just get outta here, Smoke," she snapped, rolling her eyes and slamming the door in his face.

Fuck.

Not without another glance through the window, Smoke headed to his car, jumped in, and started the engine.

They took a room at Lizzie's boarding house in the center of town.

Stack was probably waiting for him there.

The dusty scent in the air clung to his nostrils. Children waved at him, small merchants holding up their goods for him to see.

He pulled up to Lizzie's, stepped out of the car, and without so much as a "mornin'" to the receptionist, headed straight to the room.

"So? You pounded the ol' damn cake?"

His twin greeted him.

"Somebody already blew the candle out. Tch."

Stack nearly fell off his imaginary chair, the toothpick in his mouth stabbing his tongue.

He couldn't believe Smoke's words.

Annie? That damn Elijah-my-love girl?

He jumped onto the bed, pulling off his hat, ready to hear more of that story.

"And whatcha gonna do?" he asked, excitement creeping into his eyes.

"Huh?" Smoke replied.

Stack grinned teasingly.

It wasn't in his brother's methods to give up on what belonged to him.

Smoke had issues. Real bad ones. Worse than Stack's, for sure.

He, Stack, would've simply turned the page and looked for another chick, there were plenty in this backwater town: bigger, slimmer, bustier, juicier...

But Smoke?

He would dare the devil himself before letting Annie be taken off his chest.

And right now, the devil was that poor guy who had no clue the kind of shit he put his feet in.

Seeing that calm and steady tone with which Smoke spoke to him, Stack realized his brother had already come up with a plan.

"You still talk to Crystal?" the older asked.

"Hol' on! You ain't goin' to smash Crys' lil cookie, right?" Stack shot back, straightening up. "Poor thing—Smokey finally resolves to visit her bootyhole only to spit on Annie"

Smoke rolled his eyes, lighting his cigarette, uncaring of the big NO SMOKING sign on the wall.

"She still workin'?" he asked, exhaling a grey cloud off his lips.

Stack's brown eyes blinked once, twice, then popped wide open. That crooked grin never leaving his face.

"You such a bitch," he laughed loudly, flashing his golden tooth. He saw straight through Smoke's scheme and loved every damn inch of it.

Mirroring his brother's ecstatic state, Smoke crooked a smile, a gleam dancing in his eyes.

"Tell ha to come by the juke tonight."

What that new man of hers really got, huh? They were all about to find out. Wasn't a soul in the Delta who could keep their crook down once Crystal walked by.

Sending a whore to play with Annie's new man, that was pretty low. And exactly Smoke's kind of dirty.

🎀•🎀🎀🎀•🎀🎀•🎀🎀•🎀🎀🎀🎀

Night embraced the whole town. Outside crickets were singing, the wind transporting their song throughout the whole neighborhood. Light still shined in some houses, others drown in darkness.

And within the herbalist shelter, arguments rose up.

Annie was opposed to the idea of going to the juke joint, the only thing she needed was to stay here and make love to Anders. She craved it, especially after seeing Smoke earlier the day.

"Or, we can stay there and—" she brushed her fingertips over his muscular torso, gently pinching his male nipples. Annie knew all Anders' hot spots : nipples, neck, balls...The man groaned of pleasure — that woman was such a tease.

Anders peeped at her big breasts hanging in the transparent white blouse she was wearing. Her breath hitched, making her fat tits bounced back and forth, slamming each other in a sweaty, sticky squelch sound.

Fuck he wanted to grab these brown hard milking titties in his mouth, dragging his wet tongue across every inch, slurping damn last juice outta them..

"Mmh—maybe, you want these ?" Annie backed into the wall. Crudely, she loosened her cloth and freed her large breasts, nipples hard and swollen. She glanced shamelessly at Anders, cupping and squeezing her boobs lasciviously.

She rolled her sweet nipples between her fingers, biting her lower lips at the sensation. "Come on, Andy. Ain't you a man ?"

Anders' cock throbbed under his now, wet pre-cum boxer. His bulge was so big, one mouth could barely hold it. He couldn't wait any longer, the blood flowing up his crook making it pulsating with thrill and decadent pleasure. He threw himself into Annie, purposely caressing her with his erected dick.

"Mmh—Fuck, you so hard for me Andy."

She felt his growing arousal pressed against her inner thigh, gliding over it.

"Damn, Annie, what you done to me," he said, voice pleading as he buried his face in her neck, brushing her hands away from her chest and grabbing those meaty breasts  himself.

Annie felt his tongue drag slow and wet down her neck, dipping low to eat the swollen buds of her nipples. He sucked those tight, hard tits into his mouth like he was starving, biting and gulping them down with hunger.

She squirmed under his touch, her thighs nestling with his big cock between them. 

Smoke would've already taken her on the mattress, spreading her cheeks and pound hard inside her cunt.

Bullshit she screamed internally, chasing the thought of that ghost man out her mind. Anders was not Smoke. And right this moment, the only man who mattered was Andy.

" Shit—babe, stop the tease" she clung her palm around his wood, pulling the tool out of his wet underwear.

Annie slid her hands along the engorged flesh, stroking Anders dong with a feverish heat.

Her whole body shaking from the rising  closeness of his dick pressing the verge of her clit.

She could felt it now, her pussy juice dripping on her pantie. She was soaked, drenched with an almost urgent indecency.

With him, she always had to take the lead.

She pushed on the mattress, forcing Anders to sit as she climbed on top, straddling him with no hesitation.

Her soaked panties pressed against his throbbing cock, back and forth, grinding slowly.

" you wan' me to ride that fat dick huh."

she whispered, mouth watering, her voluptuous lips brushing his ear.

Hurriedly she tugged her panties to the side , her vulva's sensitive skin squelching immediately against the veiny brown dick.

Annie sank down, inch by inch, taking him whole deep inside her cunt.

" Yea—ah, shit, it's good. Your dick so big" she moaned, her lips parted, lining a trail of drool "Yeah—Fuck babe, you love this fat pussy huh ? Shit—" She ground down on him, her ass clapping against his thighs, the cheeks bouncing, jiggling like water balloons with every commanding thrust.

She sure loved big crooks. Black or brown. She remembered how she used to ride Smoke's huge wood years ago.

Fuck, with Anders, that twin finally found a match.

Truth was Andy's dick was less big than smoke's. But, that shit was veiny !

She had often caught him stroking it in the bathroom. On God, that man was too shy to directly asked her for a blowjob.

Their intimate dynamic was not unpleasant, Annie sure liked to take the lead sometimes...yes, only sometimes.

"Damn B—Annie, I'm cumming"

Such a nasty man — he was fighting the urge to call her a bitch. Dirty talks were his kink, she figured out. However, Anders hold Annie to a so high standard he never dared.

She smirked, holding tight on his chest, let a spoon of air melting inside her vagina puffing out a wet queef.

"Aargh- you such a whor—mean, you so mean Annie"

Smoke would have not hesitated. That sweet fucker, would've call her every kind of filthy names. He knew she loved it.

Anders, gripped her ass, bouncing it harder and faster on his swollen, pruney dick, until they climaxed.

Annie felt the warm fluid filling her cunt, excitement making her tits milk.

"Can we stay home now ?" She asked adorably

"Don't be like that. Let's go have fun" he replied.

Had he known what was coming, Anders might've actually listened her complaints.

[emberphoenixisgoingtolive]

i'd love to see ur takes on dinostar and yasammy the way u did ur benji post 🥹..... all ur headcanons n posts are amazing fr

HERE YA GOOO (dinostar hcs here)

domestic: fluff ahead

getting together:

Sammy fell first (some time around season 4 of camp cretaceous) Yaz fell harder

the first year or two is such a joyous and yuriful experience. this is both their first real relationships and they are so excited. they go out holding hands all the time. they look up cute nicknames to use

Yaz talks to her mum about everything (they’re basically besties) and especially during the first year she’s always excitedly telling her mum about Sammy and how amazing she is. Yaz’s mum is so proud of her daughter and her daughter’s gf

Sammy is more private about her relationship but her family have always mostly been welcoming of Yaz (up until the dinosaurs got to the mainland and then all sorts of stuff happens)

they never really Broke Up, they just agreed they needed time to sort out their issues and resolve their hurt separately, and with everything going on, they don’t have time for a relationship

once they get back to the states post chaos theory, a few days after getting settled, they sit and have a long conversation about what happened. it was just them on the back porch under the moonlight, talking about their feelings and resolving to work on themselves and each other. Sammy promises not to treat Yaz like she’s fragile, and Yaz promises to communicate better and not distance herself so much. in a way, it’s almost like wedding vows. almost.

they agree to go to couples’ therapy, and it actually really helps them get better at communicating and talking stuff through and understanding how the other feels

they get engaged after living together on the ranch and dating for two years. they wanted to wait before marriage so they could be 100% sure they want to get married

when they get engaged, the first people they tell are Yaz’s mum, and the camp fam. they tell them over video call. the screaming is so loud the computer cannot cope and just has ten seconds of this horrible screechy static sound

the camp fam are all so happy for them, of course, but Brooklynn is especially thankful they’re so happy together because she would not have been able to forgive herself if she was part of the reason Sammy and Yaz didn’t get back together

general/miscellaneous headcanons:

being together is amazing, and soothing, and reassuring, and exciting. they get to live with their lover and best friend and partner in everything, and they’re still so thrilled by that after all these years. they have someone to lean on when they need it

their natural landscape is the countryside (Benji is the mountains and Dinostar is the city/beach)

Sammy is the sun, Yaz is the moon

they’re lesbian/bi. i can’t see Sammy liking men at all lmao

Sammy’s phone background is Yaz riding a horse on their ranch (when they have kids she changes it to a picture of Yaz, Sammy and their daughters sitting on the front porch of their ranch, which Brooklynn took when she and Darius came over)

Yaz’s phone background is Sammy on one of their sunset walks that Yaz took when Sammy wasn’t looking and she’s gently smiling (she changes it to the same photo Sammy has when they have kids)

Sammy’s name in Yaz’s phone is my love🖤🩷 (black heart because it’s her favourite colour and Sammy is her favourite person and pink is Sammy’s favourite colour)

Yaz’s name in Sammy’s phone is mi amor 🌺🐻⭐😘💘💐

their house is the spot everyone goes to for Thanksgiving/the autumn get together (they don’t celebrate thanksgiving they just like the excuse to get together and eat food and hang out) (Benji’s house is for Christmas, and Dinostar’s house is for their annual two week vacation in summer)

Yaz and Sammy love halloween, but the costume part of it where they pick a different fictional couple to dress up as and hand out candy to the neighbourhood kids

Ben is their wingman. he is rooting for them 100%. the only person more sad about their ‘breakup’ than Yaz and Sammy was Ben himself. probably second place joint wingmen are Kenji and Brooklynn

dating/intimacy headcanons:

Sammy’s love language is physical touch, words of affirmation, and actually all of them probably. she just loves her girl so much

Yaz’s love language is all of them to an extent but mostly acts of service. when she notices Sammy is even a bit tired she will do everything for her. once Sammy came in from a really long day of work and Yaz had done all the chores and even made dinner. Sammy cried with relief and also fell in love even harder

Yaz is also really defensive of Sammy. once someone made a homophobic comment in passing and Yaz stopped everything she was doing to tell them off and to get the fuck away from her girlfriend and that she will fistfight them if they bother Sammy again

Sammy makes flower crowns for Yaz from the wildflowers that grow on the ranch

Yaz sneak attack hugs Sammy from behind sometimes. no reason at all, just makes Sammy blush

Yaz is more used to the cold, so whenever Yaz and Sammy visit Yaz’s mother in Oregon, and Sammy gets cold, Yaz is taking off her jacket and giving it to Sammy no questions asked. even if it’s snowing

Sammy has fat rolls and Yaz loves to kiss them

Sammy also doesn’t shave often, and Yaz finds her body hair gorgeous actually

Yaz loves Sammy’s curves and muscles. in Yaz’s head, Sammy is the most gorgeous woman on the planet and Yaz regularly tells her so

Yaz is also obsessed with Sammy’s hair. Sammy grows her hair out after chaos theory and Yaz braids it everyday to keep it from getting tangled from all the farm work. she loves to comb her fingers through it when they’re cuddling, and grips it when they make out or have sex

Sammy looooves messing with Yaz’s hair. they’ll be kissing only for Yaz to find Sammy’s secretly undone her hair. Sammy puts little braids in flyaway strands while they’re cuddling. she’ll be sitting next to Yaz and curls a strand with her finger. Sammy also braids Yaz’s hair

they’re dating, but they’re also best friends. when they start sharing a bed on Sammy’s ranch and stuff, it’s so exciting and fun for them. the first time they do, they literally have a whole sleepover and do each others’ nails and stay up pretty late whispering secrets and stuff to each other (*in a blanket fort facing opposite each other under the same blanket* “Yaz... i have a crush on you 🤭” “i have a crush on you too!!” *both giggle*)

they adore going to the farmers’ market together. they get to hold hands and buy cool stuff, and at the end, they lay out everything they got on the kitchen table and send a picture to the camp fam because they love the farmers’ market

they’re lovers but they’re also partners in almost everything they do. they work so well as a team. if one of them is struggling with something, they text the other and they’ll be there as soon as humanly possible. together they can do anything

they split ranch responsibilities between them. Samm was nervous at first because she thought Yaz wouldn’t be as enthusiastic about the ranch life as Sammy, but Yaz actually loves it. she enjoys the physical work, caring for animals, parallel play, and of course, spending time with Sammy

Sammy deals with the larger animals like the cows, sheep, goats, and horses, and Yaz is mostly in charge of the chickens, ducks, geese, and most of the stuff they grow

they love running around with the fireflies together. the fireflies come out and they’re dashing through the grass, holding hands and laughing and shouting with happiness. then they lie on the grass, and watch the fireflies and the stars and usually end up making out

Sammy sings all the time. when she’s working on the ranch chores, when she’s cooking, when she’s working. Yaz gets so used to it, that when she isn’t singing for whatever reason, Yaz really misses the sound and the ranch sounds too quiet without her

they are extremely silly with each other sometimes. we forget they dressed up in avocado costumes for halloween once i think this is all but canon

Sammy has a punching bag tied to a tree in the ranch that she sometimes goes to absolute town on. when she’s not in a seriously bad mood she lets Yaz watch her

Sammy is an absolute expert at calming down Yaz’s nightmares. it’s second nature to her. she knows exactly what she needs to do. she hums lullabies into Yaz’s hair and strokes her cheek and kisses her forehead. she knows it all

Yaz also gets better at calming down Sammy after a nightmare since there’s a period of time where Sammy’s nightmares are worse than Yaz’s, and Yaz is up a lot calming down Sammy (which she’s completely okay with). Sammy needs to be cared for but especially after a nightmare. Yaz will hold her, soothe her, even sing to her. if it’s really bad they’ll get out of bed and sit in the barn with Bessie, and Yaz will wrap Sammy in a blanket

original nicknames post here — Yaz tries to find Spanish nicknames for Sammy but they get lost in translation and Sammy gets nicknamed apple tree or smth (Sammy adores it)

throneofrayllum headcanon that Yaz calls Sammy sweetheart and i LOVE that (despite me having trauma around that nickname lol)

Sammy gives Yaz new nicknames every other week. she cycles through them. she goes onto google to find new ones. half of her nicknames are inside jokes. Yaz got stuck with ‘scorcher’ for two (2) weeks. (“scorcher, eh... because i’m so hot?” “actually because you burnt our dinner yesterday. but yes, darlin’, you’re gorgeous”)

sick caretaking headcanons post here

wedding headcanons:

yasammy wedding headcanons in this post

Brooklynn and Ben help Sammy get ready

Darius and Kenji help Yaz get ready (they’re siblings guys... they’re siblings...)

Yaz and Sammy are both not in touch with their fathers, and they don’t have brothers either, and Yaz and Kenji are siblings but so are Yaz and Ben, but so are Sammy and Kenji, so Kenji and Ben (both best men) argued over who would get to walk them down the aisle, and they decide to all walk arm in arm

when they got to the front, they all hug with Brooklynn (the bridesmaid) and Darius (the other best man)

i feel the need to emphasise their honeymoon on a Greek island because they love mamma mia, it’s canon guys trust me

they’d probably bounce around a few Greek islands, one of them being Lesbos. they bring back some really cool poetry books of Sappho’s works, and some artwork too. they felt sooo safe there; they love it

daily life headcanons:

after chaos theory, the camp fam live together for about a year on Sammy’s ranch and get into all sorts of goofy sitcom plots (while also having therapy) while simultaneously enjoying the most lovely cottagecore vibes

Ben and Kenji move to New Mexico (yeah i know i had them in California in my previous post, i changed my mind) and Darius and Brooklynn move to Dallas, and Yaz and Sammy, as the group parents, find themselves really missing them, so they carry on their tradition of a weekly video call to catch up

Sammy doesn’t really like to raise animals to sell for meat, so she keeps animals for stuff like milk and eggs (her and Yaz sell them at the farmer’s market). mostly cows, a few sheep, a mama goat and her baby, geese, ducks, and lots of chickens.

her and Yaz also own a riding school with horses. they love riding horses together, it’s so much fun

their school is specifically disability accessible, so most of their students are neurodivergent and/or disabled. they also have quite a few people from toxic households who come, and they make sure to allow them to spend time at the school as much as possible, asking them to stay behind to help muck out the horses and put away the equipment. eventually they become part time hires. the school is such a safe space. this is especially important to Sammy because she knows what it’s like to be estranged from your family and need somewhere stable to rely on (for her, it was Yaz and Nadia)

they’re aunt and auntie to their students

Sammy has such a soft spot for stray animals. they have several dogs and cats that Sammy just found abandoned somewhere. eventually Yaz has to put her foot down because they do Not have room to keep all these animals and there is an animal shelter an hour away that can take them and will look after them. they do however give one of the dogs to Ben and Kenji since they really want one

Yaz especially gets really into gardening, and they start selling other produce like berries, peppers, tomatoes, etc etc

Sammy’s ranch has one floor, which is very convenient for Yaz because her ankle does not do well on stairs

when Yaz properly moved in, Sammy made sure the house was super accessible with grab rails and a shower chair without Yaz even asking. Yaz is so touched by the gesture she almost starts crying

Sammy also builds a bunch of benches around the ranch because Yaz needs to sit down more (and she is so thankful Sammy did that, but also, Sammy built them herself and Yaz got to enjoy watching Sammy in a crop top chopping and sawing wood, nailing it together, etc)

Yaz is an early bird, so she always takes a walk around the ranch by herself. it helps her clear her head and think about what she needs to do in the day

then they eat breakfast together outdoors on the back porch sofa every day (unless the weather does not permit it)

they usually get most of the ranch chores done before lunch (together they work fast) and work at the riding school in the afternoon (it’s only open in the afternoon)

lunchtime is usually something quick, or leftovers from a tupperware, since Sammy is very big on not wasting food

Yaz got into the habit of meal prepping when she was at university so she’ll usually make lots of portions of stuff to freeze and defrosts them for lunches

Yaz gets pretty exhausted in heavy heat, so Sammy and Yaz have an hour nap/lie down together every afternoon in the hottest part of the day in summer with the air con on full blast

Yaz also mostly works indoors and deals with the paperwork for the riding school; Sammy does most of the teaching in the really hot months

once they’ve finished their lessons it’s around 6pm and they go for a ride just the two of them around the fields

then they go home and cook dinner together

Yaz works out in the evening; she can’t run anymore because of her ankle but she has lots of exercises she can do, and she has extremely strong arms and abs. she also gets into weightlifting and Sammy hangs around to enjoy the view keep her company

mentioned in another post, but Yaz usually falls asleep after Sammy, so the last thing Yaz gets to do every day is fall asleep in her girlfriend’s arms and it makes her so so happy

Yaz and Sammy both love the rain and there isn’t much rain in Texas, so when there is rain, they are out there running around and laughing and dancing (singing in the rain plays). then they go back inside and dry off and have a cup of hot chocolate

they usually go to visit Yaz’s mother in Oregon in the winter for a week or two, hoping to see the snow. Sammy loves snow. the wonder on her face at the snow falling will never fail to make Yaz melt

Yaz really enjoys baking bread. kneading it is soothing and repetitive, and it helps to ground her if her anxiety is particularly bad that day (but she enjoys it even if there isn’t). there is always a fresh loaf in their house.

they live near a food festival that’s active in the spring/summertime, and it has live music and a performance stage, and Sammy plays up there every so often. seeing her girl so happy up there, performing her heart out in sparkly clothes (and her iconic sparkly cowboy boots) is enthralling

having kids headcanons (i’m so sorry i don’t have more of these for Yaz and Sammy):

GIRL MOMS!!!!

Yaz really wants to carry but she has endometriosis so she can’t (which breaks her heart but she’s glad Sammy can carry)

Sammy assures Yaz that it’s okay, and that she’s really excited to be pregnant

Yaz is on top of the pregnancy stuff. she and Sammy organised the ivf, but once Sammy is actually pregnant, Yaz is taking very good care of her girl. she buys all the prenatal vitamins, books parenting classes, and does very thorough research, especially on their first baby, everything they need to know about caring for a baby

Sammy feels really bad sending Yaz out to get her pregnancy cravings but Yaz is down to do it. Sammy wants the nice jam that is only sold from one vendor only on a sunday morning? she’s GETTING the nice jam

Sammy ends up going into labour when her and Yaz are out on a walk in the ranch. Yaz is scared, but she holds herself together until she can get Sammy indoors

however, a few hours after Sammy goes into labour, there’s a bad wind storm and it’s too dangerous for them to drive to the hospital, so they’re stuck inside their ranch

really panicked, Yaz video calls the camp fam, her mum, and mrs Bowman (who is a nurse but is also trained in being a midwife) and they all keep them calm and give advice and direct her on how to give birth

their daughter is born safely and perfectly healthy, thank goodness

they decide they want another baby two years after the first, and this time when Sammy goes into labour, they’re able to get to a hospital, thank goodness

they swear the weather their babies were born to has influence on their personalities, because their firstborn girl has the personality of wild wind, but their second born girl has the personality of a warm spring day

Sammy is mama, Yaz is mom/mommy

they’re raising their kids bilingual; they speak english with Yaz and Spanish with Sammy

since Yaz didn’t really have a normal childhood she’s all the more keen to make sure her kids have a normal childhood experience with lots of fun things happening for their kids. she’s the one planning most of the day trips to theme parks, museums, aquariums, etc etc

they’re very keen to teach their kids to have responsibilities, especially around the ranch. the kids love helping out (sometimes) (sometimes it’s exhausting but they usually still do it)

Sammy never got an official quinceanera when she turned fifteen (she was on nublar) so she makes sure her girls get the most amazing one when they both turn fifteen. everyone is invited. it’s a huge deal. they have a massive party in the barn and dancing under the fireflies

[goldensunset]

*gets hit over the head with a cartoon anvil* oh dude i just had a thought. out of all of darkrai’s various villainous schemes? the one and only thing he actually successfully accomplished ended in him indirectly saving everyone. sick.

hero and partner would have never met if it weren’t for his attack. and if they had never met or bonded? whole entire story turns out different. the lack of the relic fragment obviously would prevent hero and grovyle from being successful for one thing. especially when you consider grovyle didnt plan out the whole ‘finding the hidden land’ thing in advance clearly and just in general he could’ve solved lots of problems if he had honestly told the people of the past what he was trying to do and earned their help. like clearly these two weren’t great at reaching out to people if that never even came up in the plan

but even further than that… if hero hadn’t fallen into a strange new world with a blank slate and no connections other than grovyle, here with only a mission and a firm resolve for a heroic death… nobody would have been there to mourn hero or grovyle after their disappearance. either no one would’ve known they existed or they’d be branded as criminals. (and i wonder how long after their defeat it would’ve taken anyone to realize what they did. probably until the time that had stopped in those various regions started flowing again.) and even if the world had forgiven them? it was partner’s grief specifically that saved the people of the future. dialga heard that cry of heartbreak and changed things because of partner’s deep longing. you couldn’t have gotten that without true friendship. and by extension the other people of the future lived because of that. dude.

if hero and grovyle had been strong enough to overcome him and succeed in their original plan somehow they would’ve also saved the planet but like they would have killed themselves and everyone they knew and would have hardly minded because all they would’ve known was darkness and bitterness (other than celebi of course) and they would’ve been ok with it. but the way it happened instead was everyone got to enjoy the new beautiful world of light. hero and grovyle were separated but like. at least they’re both alive and they have the hope that the other might be alive too and they have other friends now too. better than both being nonexistent… darkrai’s plot redirection caused a ton of angst but ultimately all he did was accidentally introduce a lot more Power Of Friendship into the narrative and that’s exactly what fixes everything

[sunaria-bees]

Adding more to these because deltarune 3+4

SPOILERS AHEAD DONT FUCKING READ IF YOU DONT WANNA SEE THEM

More ut ones

Frisk is like 9 years old, which none of the characters learn until they leave the underground

Sans is a trans man

ALPHYS IS BISEXUAL IM CHANGING THAT BECAUSE SHE DOES LIKE BOTH UNDYNE AND ASGORE AT SOME POINT BUT SHE DOES GET WITH UNDYNE

Chara is still spiritually with frisk, their soul is bound to the heart locket

Not every monster left the underground, a lot of them stayed, and it eventually became known to humans as an actual country? State? Whatever the hell

Nicepants is canon because FUCK YOU

Okay deltarune time

Nicepants is canon because FUCK YOU X2

Dess and asriel kissed once and then immediately became grossed out by kissing someone of the same gender (mlm and wlw solidarity check)

Susie's tail is like the size of a banana so you can't see it it's there guys I swear trust me you gotta believe me you gotta you g

Darkners can squash and stretch cartoonishly if need be, considering they're #NotReal

Ralsei cried during that fight with Susie in chapter 4

Tenna and spamton are also exes spamton is collecting them like trading cards

the person who currently has Tenna is mettaton (or happstablook considering they're a ghost rn)

The dog that randomly appears sometimes isn't even a darkner, it's just some dog that gained omnipotence after stumbling into the dark world

BOTH TIME BECAUSE THESE ONES CARRY OVER BOTH CANONS

Dark worlds technically exist in undertale, we just don't see them because they never really appear

The war happened in deltarune however it was many years before deltarune takes place, and instead of monsters being sealed, it was resolved peacefully

Magic has supposedly gone long extinct by the time of deltarune, however something in the dark world awakens it for any lightner who comes into one

Kris's biological parents are long gone, leaving them in the trash and litterally moving to another continent to start over (they SUCK)

okay that's all bye bye

Undertale/deltarune head canons because I'm keeping all my fandom shit here and I'm bored as hell

One off fact: Undertale and Deltarune bot take place in Minnesota, why? Because I said so

Undertale facts

1: frisk is infact not an orphan, but just a really kid who was on a hike with their parents and got sidetracked

2: frisk does eventually reunite with their parents while living with toriel, toriel (and maybe ashore idk) become frisk godparent(s)

3: Chara spirit is especially spiritually bonded with frisk, whatever pain frisk experience, Chara does as well, however dulled considering their a ghost,

4: frisk has done only the neutral and pacifist runs in my main au, they were going to do genocide but bailed out after killing papyrus from guilt

5: the "player" is just frisk intrusive thoughts, the curiosity in them essentially

6: sans is slightly more aware than others about timelines and shit but he can't tell when one happens, he just gets that same feeling of deja Vu if that makes sense

7: Sans is aroace (he's too lazy for love) Papyrus is pan, alphas and undyne are lesbians, toriel and asgore are both cis and straight allies, and frisk is agender non-binary

Deltarune facts

1: Kris is selectively mute, they only talk to people their close with (toriel, asgore, Asriel, etc..)

2: Susie is infact poor but she does have parents, they're just at their jobs a lot

3: Ralsei has abandonment issues due to the fact that he was alone for so long, he likes having people around him

4: Asriel is a English major, mostly because he has a very vivid imagination!

5: I ship Kris x berdly buts it's very much one sided (guess which side it is!!!!)

6: Kris is non binary and asexual, Susie is bisexual, Noelle is lesbian, berdly is gay (in very much fucking denial), ralsei is trans masc and gay

7: spamton and jevil are ex boyfriends<33333

[whyarewecalledtheshipname]

rambled this before but MAN that riku is paralleled to terra who's dad was so extremely aligned with Light that he basically nearly fell to darkness/evil out of his /extreme/ intolerance of it??? Eraqus who totally doesn't remind me of MoM??? GUH RRAHH

[chimerafeathers]

i love that isafrin can be the most straightforwardly romancey, wholesome pairing on a surface level and then you go one (1) level deeper and run into siffrin’s seething guilt and convoluted feelings around touch and intimacy and the extent to which they want or don’t want those things in a specifically romantic way or if he was trying to seek connection and love in any way he could once he knew that Isabeau wanted those things from him in that context, and the combined power trip/self disgust at “manipulating” Isabeau’s desires without his knowledge to make themself feel wanted and in control. and then you keep going and there’s also Isabeau’s own warped self image (still, in spite of all his changes, fearing that he’s someone that would be shameful to know), his “emotionally stable pillar” role and self-taught therapy talk masking his deep fears of real confrontation (struggling loop after loop to confess, not wanting Odile to confront Siffrin about their weird behavior in the sus quest bathroom talk) and how Siffrin’s fear of vulnerability and Isabeau’s fear of Pushing Too Hard allow both of their issues to fester unspoken long after it’s clear that the problems exist.

all this to say. duality of isafrin. makes my heart full and warm and happy to see the sweet, fluffy, silly love and connection between them (mutually romantic or otherwise). and then also. the delicious, delicious complications. gnawing on them like a dog with a beloved bone

[noctlas332]

day three,,,, i would have had liked to work a bit more on this but alas, that did not happen,,

[quietwingsinthesky]

i dont think millie and pre-Got Caged Again lucifer could have gotten anywhere with each other. the context of her as sam’s little sister overshadows everything there: it’s why he has no reason to harm her and every reason to treat her well, the way you’d treat a guest in your house, to prove to sam that he’s capable of that. and it’s why she spends most of the apocalypse treating lucifer specifically as a non-threat, as compared to the actual threats of demons who might not have heard the memo right, angels from heaven who Do Not care about her when getting to sam & dean, and other shit, but also as like. not a person she can communicate with in any meaningful way. he’s a concept, a force of nature, a fairy tale with rules she can understand and survive if she follows them.

post-cage 2 lucifer is a bad roommate but she can talk to him. and he actually learns who she is beyond the context of sam. you know?

[chuuyasoup]

IT JUST FUCKS ME UP INSIDE OKAY like especially bc. theyre twins theyre inextricably linked theyre inseparable they love each other so much that they hate each other theyre ready to kill each other to save each other and none of it makes any logical sense aughhhhhhhh but u still Know. u still understand

[inkskinned]

it's easier to apply for jobs than ever! so what if you lost your insurance, anyone can get a job these days, even without meds. everyone is hiring! there's a "good employee" shortage!

well you just need to revamp your resume, here's a paid app subscription that can read it for you. rewrite the cover letter they won't read. google jobs in my area and then scrawl through Monster/Indeed/worbly. did you want to save the search? this was posted 98 days ago. over 1 billion applicants! this position is trending.

jobs i actively like doing and get paid for. your search returned no results. easy-apply with HireSpin! easy apply with SparkFire! easy apply with PenisFlash! with a few short clicks, get your information stolen.

watch out! the first 98 links on google are actually scams! they're false postings. oopsie. that business isn't even hiring. that other one is closed permanently. find one that looks halfway legit, google the company and the word "careers". go to their page. scroll past brightly-lit diversity stock photo JOIN US white sans serif. we are a unique, fresh, client-focused stock value capitalism. we are committed to excellence and selling your soul on ebay. we are DRIVEN with POWER to INNOVATE our greed. yippee! our company has big values of divisive decision making, sucking our dicks, and hating work-life balances. our values are to piss in your mouth. sign here and tell us if you have gender issues so we can get ahead of the sexual harassment claim. are you hispanic although let's be real we threw out the resume when we saw your last name.

sign up to LinkHub to access updates from this company. make a HirePlus account to apply. download the PoundLink app. your account has been created, click the link we sent you in 15 minutes. upload that resume. we didn't read the resume, manually fill in the lines now. what is your expected pay grade. oh actually we want hungry people, not people driven by a salary. cut a zero off that number, buddy, this is about opportunity, and we need to be thrifty. highest level of education. autofill is glitching. here is an AI generated set of questions. what is your favorite part of our sexy, sexy company. how do you resolve conflict. will you get our company logo tattooed on your person. warning: while our CEO is guilty of wage theft, we will absolutely refuse to hire a nonviolent felon.

thank you for your interest at WEEBLIX. we actually already filled this position internally. we actually never had that posting. we actually needed you to have 9 years of experience and since you have 10 years we think it might be too many? we'll be texting you. we'll email you. we'll keep your resume. definitely absolutely we won't just completely ignore you. look at your phone, there's already a spam text from Bethany@stealyouridentity. they're hiring!

wait, did you get an interview? well that's special, aren't you lucky. out of 910 jobs you applied to, one answered, finally. and funny story! actually the position isn't exactly as advertised, we are looking for someone curious and dedicated. it's sort of more managerial. no, the pay doesn't change - you won't have any leadership title. now take this 90 minute assessment. in order to be a dog groomer, we need you to explain cell biology. in order to be a copyeditor, write a tiny dissertation about the dwindling supply of helium on the planet. answer our riddles three. great job! we just need to push this up to Tracy in HR who will send it to Rodney who is actually in charge. and then of course it's jay's decision and then greg will need to see you naked and if you survive you'll be given a drug test and a full anal examination.

and of course you'll be hungry this whole time, aren't you, months and months of the same shit. months of no insurance, no meds, no funding, barely able to afford the internet and the phone and the rent - all things you need in order to even apply for our thing. but do it again! do it again and again and again, until you flip inside out and turn into a being of pure dread!

you're not hired yet because you're lazy. there's over one million AI-generated hallucinated jobs in your area. don't worry. with zipruiter, hiring and firing is easier than ever. sign up. stay on-call.

in the meantime, little peon - why don't you just fucking suffer.