#and the next part of the series might not end up being the fic i've finished

[rriavian]

I've finally redrafted the mess that was Courting the King, so unless something goes horrifically wrong during my reread tomorrow it's ready for one final intense edit.

Then I can post some other fics, can finish the last couple of thousand words of Deliverance, enjoy some more ask games, and hopefully not get stuck on an almost finished fic for half a year again. Honestly it's been almost done for long enough that I'd really planned to post back in March. So if I come on tumblr tomorrow and it's just incoherent screeching, erm, well—take it as a sign I'm probably writing more self indulgent cat!Dream to cheer myself up.

(Who am I kidding—I'll be writing self indulgent cat!Dream anyway)

[zombiigrll]

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NEGANS DAUGHTER. ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 2.7K ꩜ .ᐟ SUMMARY ⭑ you prove yourself to your boyfriends father. .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ sorry this took a million years to come out </3 i've been WAY to busy T_T i feel like this ended kind of.. confusing/unrealistically... but its fanFICTION. so its whateva!! anyways i hope you guys enjoy :3 (also, if u guys REALLY want a part 3 i'll write one, but i mostly wanted this to be a fic where you can interpret the ending yourself! but i wouldn't be opposed to writing a part 3 it just might take a while as i work on my series :p ) .ᐟ read part 1 here .ᐟ ⭑

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you stayed the night at carls. you didn't mean to, but after a while of talking, and getting to really know each other, the two of you had grown tired. so, you ended up falling asleep in his arms.

but no one knew you were there. not until rick opened the door that morning.

"hey, carl. wake up-" rick spoke before quickly stopping, taking out his gun as he spotted you next to his son.

you quickly put your hands up, stand up and step away from carl as your chest goes up and down as your breaths quickened. carl, of course, quickly woke up to the loud noises.

"what are you doing here? and who are.." rick yells, but stops himself as he examines your features. "wait.. you're negans daughter, aren't you?"

you nodded. "yes, i.." your voice trembled as you looked around.

"dad, stop!" carl quickly intervened as he processed what was going on, stepping in front of you. "she's not like them. she's nice, she's not going to hurt us."

"how do you know?" rick glares at his son. "she's still a savior. we can't trust her."

carl continues to argue back and forth with rick, staying firmly in front of you. "we can't bring her back out there!" he yells back, using his hands to accentuate his words. he's visibly shaking in anger at his fathers words.

rick lets out a deep sigh before continuing. "if that's what you really believe, then fine. but i think we need to keep her locked up and get more information. i don't trust it."

carl scoffs. "are you kidding me?-"

"that's fine." you cut him off before he can continue speaking. "i'll go with you."

rick nods at you and carls eyes widen. "seriously y/n?"

"yes, carl. i don't care." you step forward, up to rick. "i didn't expect him to be fine with me being here. if that's what makes him comfortable, then i'll do it."

carl shakes his head in defeat, following you and rick out the door.

...

you were now officially locked up in alexandria. rick had pulled up two chairs on the opposite side of the dark cell. carl sat in one, arms crossed and obviously quite annoyed, while rick sat properly in the other.

carl had brought your bag with him, and it laid by his feet.

carl's leg moves up and down off the floor anxiously, his face covered in frustration. "this is so stupid, she's obviously not a threat-"

"well then she needs to prove that, doesn't she?" rick retorts, shutting carl up instantly.

you nodded understandingly, sitting against the bars of the cell. "how can i prove it?"

rick silently thinks for a moment, clasping his hands together. "you can start by telling us about your father."

"there's a lot to know about him." you chuckled lightly to yourself, leaning your head against the bars and looking up at the two on the other side. "what exactly do you want to know?"

"his motives. why is he doing this?"

you clenched your hands together, anxiety rushing through your body.

"he's.. trying to make civilization or something." your voice trembled. "he thinks for every crime there needs to be punishment. that's why he killed.. your people." your body language softened as you began taking in everything happening. "..what are you going to do to my dad?"

rick stayed silent, except for a quiet sigh, which basically answered your question.

"your friend daryl should be out of the sanctuary now." you blurted out.

"what?" rick quickly stood up and walked up to the cell, his hand laying on the bars.

"i saw one of my dads wives slip a note under his cell. when i went out to leave and come here, a motorcycle was gone." you explained yourself anxiously. ricks eyes looked deep into yours, a sense of aggression and concern coming from him.

"do you know where he could be headed to?" ricks voice shakes as he speaks to you.

you shake your head. "no, i don't." you feel like your story could be sounding like bullshit, but you were telling the truth. "i'd assume he would be coming here, but he would've been here before me. maybe hilltop? somewhere with your people, probably."

rick pushes off of the cell bars and walks out of the room, pulling his walkie-talkie out as he shuts the door.

you sit with carl in silence for a moment. he looks shaken up, and honestly a bit frustrated.

"..sorry." you lowered your head onto the bars. you didn't know why exactly you were sorry, you just knew you were.

he looked back up at you, his expression changing to confusion. "what? why?"

you hid your face away from him as tears started flooding your eyes. so much was happening, even if it wasn't necessarily your fault. you worried that you made the whole situation worth.

"for everything." your voice cracked as you moved the back of your head against the bars to make sure he didn't see you crying. "my dad, your friends.. it just sucks. i wish i could've done something sooner to stop him."

carl quickly walks up to the cell, sitting down to look at you. "hey.." he leans his back against the bars, looking at you the best he can. "you're not your father. i'm sure everyone can tell that, even my dad."

"i think your dad hates me." you laugh at his comment.

"i'm serious, y/n." he turns the upper-half of his body to face you more.

you stay looking away from him. "i need to go back to the sanctuary."

"why? you're safer here."

"me being here puts you all in danger. if i'm gone any longer, my dad might come here." you stand up and try opening the cell, which rick obviously locked previously.

"my dad has the keys, he's not gonna let you out." carl stands up with you, putting his hands on the other side of the bar.

you felt so angry. but you didn't know exactly where the anger was placed to. you felt so much at once. your heart was racing, and you could just hear static going through your brain. you laid your head against the cell, defeated.

..until you remembered you had a bobby pin in your hair.

of course, with your dad being negan, you knew how to pick locks. you began picking it as carl continued speaking to you, not even noticing what you were doing.

"it'll be fine. i'm sure your dad trusts you enough to let you go out on your own."

you shook your head, continuing to pick the lock. "you don't know my dad. i barely know my dad. by the time i came back after dropping you off, he already had a few people out ready to come get me."

"just stay. for a little while longer. please." carl begged, looking at you before finally realizing what was going on. "what're you doing-"

you cut him off by swinging the cell door open. "it's fine, carl. i'll be back." you grabbed your bag and tried walking out the door, but carl quickly blocked you

"are you kidding me?" he put his arm on the wall, preventing you from getting past.

"carl." you sternly spoke, looking him dead in the eyes. your eyes quickly softened, however, as you brought your hands up to the sides of his face. "i'll be back as soon as i can. i promise. i have to try and make sure me coming over here didn't get you guys into more shit."

carl moves his hand up to your wrist, looking down at you anxiously. but after a moment of hesitation, he nods. "please be safe."

"don't worry about me." your lips turn up into a grin before you lean to kiss him.

he moves his hands down to your waist to pull you closer, leaving one hand on your side and the other on the back of your neck. you could tell by his body language that he didn't want you to go, but you knew you had to. he knew that, too.

you pulled away, despite his protest. your smile turned somber as you looked up at him. "i'll see you soon. i promise."

"wait." he grabs his walkie talkie and hands it to you. "i have another one somewhere. i don't know if this will be in reach with the sanctuary, but please try and call me when you're safe."

you nodded, pulling him in for one last hug. he held you tightly, leaving a kiss on the crown of your forehead before letting go.

"i love you." he smiled warmly at you.

"i love you too, carl."

...

you snuck back out of alexandria and back to where you had left your motorcycle. you rode it as fast as possible, speeding back to the sanctuary.

luckily, you hadn't seen any saviors yet. the roads were clear, except for a few walkers that you simply just sped past. you had to get back to the sanctuary as soon as possible.

and after a while, you finally arrived.

it was similar to how you arrived after dropping carl off. negan was standing by a car with a few saviors that were geared up. they quickly noticed you, and your father didn't seem happy either.

you parked and took your helmet off. negan ran up to you and hugged you tightly.

"where were you?" his voice was stern, but also soft. he was worried.

"i just went out for a bit." you returned his hug, but quickly pushed away. "..can i talk to you, dad?"

negan looks at you confused before nodding. "okay."

he signals that the saviors can come back inside before continuing to follow you to one of the old conference rooms.

you sat down at the end of the tables, and negan sat down on the other so he could look at you.

"so, what's up?" he smiles warmly at you, which you anxiously return.

you messed with your nailbeds nervously. you knew how he would react, but you had to ask. "i can't live like this anymore."

that was the only thing that you could spit out. probably the worst way you could've worded it, but you could tell it got your point across the way negans face dropped.

"what?" was all negan could spit out from that sentence.

you stood up and began pacing around as you spoke. it was the only thing that could even slightly calm your nerves. "the way that you run things. i know i'm your child and i've grown up around this, but i know right from wrong. i'm sure you do, too."

his eyebrows furrowed as he clasped his hands together, placing them on the table. "go on."

"i know why you do it. you've told me a million times. but i can't stand it anymore, dad." you stopped pacing, looking him straight in the eye. "i can't watch you kill people like that. not again."

"then i wont take you again, easy as that-"

"no, dad." you quickly cut him off, your voice raising slightly as you become more infuriated. "i can't let you kill people like that either."

negan simply huffs in response, standing up and walking over to you. "this is how we live now. how do you suppose you'll stop it?"

you stay silent for a moment, just thinking. he puts a hand on his shoulder and goes to speak, but you stop him.

"i'll leave."

his face drops. he moves his hand off of your shoulder and presses his lips together. you've never seen him look so distraught before, at least with you.

"you'll never see me again."

"where would you go?" negan finally speaks, his expression glum and his voice firm.

"anywhere but here. i'd go far away just to get away from here." tears started forming in your eyes as you tried to keep your composure. "maybe you'll find me. maybe you'll kill me, i don't care. because i'll be away from this."

"this is how we live-"

"this is not living!" you yell, tears finally falling down your cheeks.

when he didn't respond, you grabbed your bag and walked towards the door. but, he grabbed your wrist. "hey-"

"don't leave." negans voice remained firm, but you could tell he was upset. "what can i do for you to accept that this is just the way things are?"

you give him a look that screams 'are you stupid?' before you continue speaking. "nothing. because i wont accept it." you move his hand away from your wrist. "i love you, dad. but i can't keep living with the fact that we're just.. murdering people."

negan looks at you blankly and you take it as your opportunity to exit. except before you could close the door behind you, something stopped it.

negans foot.

"what?" you turned around to look at him.

"fine." he breathily says, wiping his eyes quickly. "i'll.. i'll figure it out."

you smiled at him, letting your tears fall as you hugged him tightly. even if it seemed like it to him in the moment, you didn't want to leave him. he was your father, not many people had that luxury of still having a parent alive nowadays. but it's the only way you thought that he would listen to you, and he did.

he hugged you back. "i'm not losing you, too."

...

you didn't know what your dad was going to do now. hell, he didn't even know what he was going to do now. but, you knew that you needed to call carl. you walked back over to your room and locked the door, pulling the walkie-talkie out as fast as possible and calling.

"hello? this is y/n. is carl there?" you asked, but just got static as an answer.

'maybe i need to get a bit closer.'

you walked back outside of your room, and negan was standing right outside. you put your hands behind your back quickly, hiding the walkie-talkie.

"hey, dad."

he smiled, hugging you with one of his arms. "are you heading out again?"

"..yeah." you nodded nervously. "not too far. i just need some air."

"alright. try and be back by dinner, alright?" negan smiled at you. you nodded back and him, putting the walkie-talkie in your pocket as you walked back towards your motorcycle.

you rode out a bit, towards the area you'd usually roam to when you needed space. as you rode, you occasionally turned the radio on to check if you were in range.

as you approached your hangout area, you set your motorcycle down and turned your radio on.

"hellooo.. this is y/n, i'm calling for carl." you repeated for the thousandth time.

there was static, but just before you turned it off again, you heard his voice.

"y/n!"

"carl?" you exclaimed happily.

"holy shit, are you okay?" carl asked through the radio, his voice seemingly laced with concern, but he also seemed happy to hear your voice.

"yes, i'm okay." you nodded, your smile not leaving your face. "i told my dad that.. i'd leave if he didn't stop. he's gonna try and figure something out."

"that might not go over that easy with my dad, y'know?"

"i know. but i won't let him kill anyone else. all i ask if that you don't let your dad kill mine." you lightly chuckle, which he returns.

carl stays silent for a moment. "could you come back over here?"

"i can try. why? what's up?"

"i'd feel better knowing you're here with me while all of this goes on." his voice is a bit more quiet over the radio, but loud enough where you could still hear it.

"of course." you started getting back onto your motorcycle as you spoke to him. "i'll always be there when you need me."

you could hear him laugh on the other side. "thank you. i'll see you soon then?"

"yep. love you!" you happily replied.

"love you, too, y/n."

you rode off back towards alexandria. this time, instead of feeling so anxious and stressed, you felt happy.

you didn't know what was going to happen after you arrived at alexandria. how rick would react, the other alexandrians, the people effected by your fathers actions.. but you did know that you'd figure out how to make it right.

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[daisyvisions]

Unspoken Words (Pt. 3)

➺ Pairing: best friend!Sangyeon x afab!reader x enemy!Hyunjae

➺ Summary: If someone were to tell you that you'd be in a fake relationship with the person you despise the most just to make your best friend jealous, you would've laughed in their face. But here you are... caught up in this exact situation.

➺ Word Count: 7.4K

➺ Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI) very angsty but with a happy ending, jealousy, confessions, some arguments, mentions of being drunk, heated makeouts, groping, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f! receiving), slight masturbation, marking, neck biting, slight dry humping, pet names (sweetheart) lots and lots of sexual tension y'all (pls let me know if I missed anything!)

➺ A/N:  Okay hear me out... it wasn't supposed to take this long for me to write this I swear 😭 but life got in the way huhu but anyways WOW 7.4K words? this is the longest fic I've ever written! This is the last part of this series and while I'm sad it has to come to an end, I'm just very proud of this series as a whole! Proofread once, I hope you enjoy this last part!

➺ Part 1 | Part 2

➺ Network and tags: @deoboyznet @winterchimez @snowflakewhispers @aimeecarreros and the anon that reminded me to write for it bless you I hope you see this!

As your body sways to the rhythm of the music blasting through the speakers, you can't help but become immersed in the kaleidoscope of colors moving around you. You finally feel relaxed enough after a couple of drinks and slowly let everything around you move through you like an ocean wave.

It's been a while since you've been this loose, especially with all the college requirements piling on you like bricks. You needed this, especially since it was your birthday. You deserved to have a break and not think of any responsibilities for a moment and have fun with the person you adore the most… your best friend. Speaking of best friend, where the hell is he right now?

Your mind pulls you away from your reverie as your eyes frantically search for the man who was with you all night. The man who had your whole birthday planned out and dragged you to this place. And just like a moth to a flame, you spot him easily across the room sitting by the bar as he watches you with his warm eyes, the growing smile on his face as soon as his eyes finally meet yours.

Without hesitation, you make your way towards him, weaving through the sea of bodies. You stop right in front of where he sits, your body wedged between his legs as you place your hands on his shoulders for stability. His eyes grow wide as you slowly lean closer to him, wondering what you might do next.

"C'mon Sangyeon, dance with me!" Your mouth is dangerously close to his ear as you try your best to speak above the reverberating music around you.

"I think I'll pass. I'm good right here," he responds as his hand holds your waist to stop you from swaying.

"You can't say no, it's my birthday, remember?" you remind him, your tone playful yet insistent.

Sangyeon hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the crowded dance floor. You can see the internal struggle playing out on his face. He lets out a heavy sigh, remembering that he was the one who set that rule for the evening to begin with. It was the condition he had suggested in order for you to say yes to going out tonight.

"Okay… let's dance," he sighs, quickly chugging down the rest of his drink before allowing you to lead him onto the dance floor.

As soon as you step foot on the dance floor, Sangyeon grabs your wrist and makes you twirl for him. You laugh at the silly gesture but continue to dance with him and let the music move through both of you.

He laughs at how loose-limbed your movements have become but still tries to match your energy nonetheless despite not being much of a dancer. Sangyeon can't help but smile as butterflies soar throughout his body.

He can't believe how lucky he is to have you in his life, wishing for moments like this to never end.

Later on in the night as you both walk back to your apartment, Sangyeon wraps his arm around you, trying to keep your balance as you yap about anything and everything. For some, this would be considered bothersome, having to be the caretaker of their tipsy friend. But to Sangyeon, it doesn't matter as long as it was you.

Aside from getting you home safe, all he can focus on is the beautiful sound of your voice and the way you hold onto him closely. The smell of your perfume was far more intoxicating than the drinks you downed tonight.

When you both finally make it to your front door, you suddenly spin around to hug Sangyeon tightly. "This was the best birthday ever, thank you so much Sangyeon," you mumble against his shoulder.

"Anything for my girl," he smiles, returning the same hug you're giving him.

His cheek presses against your head, taking all the strength he could muster to not kiss your temple. You both hug each other for a little while longer, not wanting this moment to end. As soon as you reluctantly pull away from one another, Sangyeon chuckles at the tousled appearance of your hair.

"Here, let me just—" Sangyeon's hand reaches for the loose strand of hair and gently tucks it behind your ear. You impulsively press your cheek onto his palm, letting the heat of his skin cradle you as you sigh dreamily.

You look up at him with these sultry eyes, and Sangyeon can't help but feel a shiver run down his spine. This kind of thing has never happened between the two of you. He tries his best to ignore the sudden warmth blooming at the back of his neck but fails as soon as his eyes gravitate towards your lips almost touching his palm.

"Sangyeon?"

Beep, beep, beep! The sound of your alarm rings as you wake up from your dream. You find yourself smiling as you open your eyes, but reality hits you like a lightning strike as you soon realize who was the male lead of your dream.

You aren't upset because the dream ended so abruptly, but rather the scenario reminds you of a time when you and Sangyeon were happy. When you two were still friends and not in the shit show you're currently in where he makes you feel like a total stranger.

Before you start wallowing in your own sadness, you rub your eyes and immediately get up from your bed, stretch, and check your phone. Today, you're assigned to check the inventory and the progress of everything the team needs for the play next week. While that sounds easy to do, it also means you have to quality check and sort out all the props, costumes, and other items before the tech rehearsal.

Today is definitely going to be a long one, but at least it will give you enough distraction from overanalyzing that dream, right?

You slowly exhale a sigh of frustration as you continue untangling the mess of rope on your lap. Not only have you been trying to straighten them out for the past hour or so, but you also start to feel a numbing pain in your tailbone as you sit cross-legged on the stage. It was a mistake positioning yourself here as you figure out this task, but at least you were a few more tasks away from calling it a day.

"Didn't expect to see you here—" A deep voice startles you. You were so focused on unraveling the rope from its tangled knots that you didn't pay attention to the creaking sound of the auditorium's entrance.

You clutch your chest, trying to calm your heartbeat while your eyes search for the source of the voice. You'd think finding who the voice belonged to would calm your nerves, but you suddenly feel your heart pounding harder than it did a few seconds ago when your eyes finally lock in on the other person's face. Oh god… Sangyeon.

"Uh—" You try to swallow down the non-existent lump stuck in your throat. "The rest of the team couldn't make it today so I volunteered to help…"

"I know, I signed up with you weeks ago to check on inventory, remember?" He awkwardly laughs. And in that moment, it only occurred to you that you did in fact sign up with Sangyeon for this weeks ago, the whole rift between you two making you forget that little detail.

"R-right…" You turn away to focus on the task at hand before he spots the embarrassed look on your face, quietly praying that he will decide to just leave you to your work.

But apparently, the universe had other plans for you today.

Sangyeon starts walking down the center aisle of the auditorium. The sound of his footsteps is so slow and gentle it's more nerve-wracking than any sound you've ever heard. You really do try your best to ignore him, but that alone starts to become difficult as the faint scent of his warm cologne starts to invade your senses.

"Need a hand?" Sangyeon offers, taking a step closer to the edge of the stage.

"No, I've got it," you quickly reply as your eyebrows furrow in frustration at a particularly difficult knot.

Sangyeon chuckles at your stubbornness, finding it cute rather than annoying. Suddenly, he places his hands on the edge of the stage and pulls himself up, his figure now closer to you than ever before as he sits right across from you.

"Here—" He grabs the tumbleweed of rope from your hands and starts to untangle the mess effortlessly.

"You were always a stubborn one, huh?" he teases, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment.

"I only learn from the best," you reply, sharing a slightly awkward laugh together.

"Come on," Sangyeon says, his voice softer now. "I'll help you so you don't stay up too late."

At first, you were worried about how awkward it would be to have Sangyeon around you for a couple more hours considering everything that has happened between you two. But much to your surprise, it was like nothing happened at all, as if you two were just picking up where your friendship had left off.

The first couple of minutes or so were obviously weird, but as soon as Sangyeon made a joke about an incident that happened backstage weeks ago with two of the crew members, you couldn't help but burst out laughing. From that point on, you two were talking nonstop as you tried to untangle the rope together. And for the first time in weeks, you both felt that missing part of you become whole again.

By the time you both finished straightening out the rope, he asked you what other tasks you had left so he could work on some while you did the other half. You both got up to do your tasks and met back at the same spot where you sat cross-legged from one another to finish retouching the paint on some props.

As the night went on, Sangyeon couldn't help but steal glances at you as you focused on painting the item in your hand. A warm, fuzzy feeling engulfed his entire body, remembering how it felt to be around you like this again.

He suddenly snapped back into reality as you let out a loud sigh as you brush the loose hair from your cheek with the back of your hand. A light streak of paint smudges your skin, making Sangyeon chuckle at the sight of it.

"What's so funny?" You looked at him quizzically. Sangyeon couldn't help but smile at your confused face. Without hesitation, he put down the brush in his hand and leaned closer to you.

"You've got a little something—" He held your head steady with his palm as his thumb tried to remove the smudge of paint on your cheek.

You suddenly became aware of how close you were to Sangyeon. You could see every detail of his face. Your heart began to race as you realized he was staring at you intently, his breath catching in his throat.

"T-there. Just a bit of paint, that's all—" Sangyeon stammered, his eyes never leaving your face. Before he could lower his hand, you impulsively grabbed his wrist a little more firmly than you had hoped, instantly missing the warmth of his palm against your cheek.

You melt at the touch of his caress, eyes closing as his warm hand envelops your skin. You turn your head slightly for your lips to lightly touch his inner wrist. Your heart starts pounding out of your chest; it's as if this moment seems too familiar to you.

"Sangyeon?" You say his name under your breath, wondering if he could hear how loud your heart is beating in this moment. Wondering if his heart is also beating as loud as yours.

Sangyeon's lips part, his mind running a mile a minute as he tries to find the right words to say. How can he, especially when you look at him with deep longing? After everything that has happened between you two?

He sees your eyes falter with his lack of response as you try to slowly pull away from him. Regret starts to consume him, knowing that this would be the last time he'd ever get close to you again.

No, he can't lose you, not like this. It's either he does it now or regrets this for the rest of his life.

"Fuck it—" Sangyeon grips the back of your neck and pulls you towards him, your lips suddenly pressed against his.

You impulsively place your hand on his chest and push him away, scanning his face for his reaction. But all you can see is how dilated his pupils are, looking at you with an intense gaze you have never seen before. Suddenly, the air around becomes stuffy and surges with desire all at once.

Without a word, you grab the fabric of his shirt and pull him towards you desperately as you smash your lips against his once more. Sangyeon responds with the same level of desperation as he cups your face between his warm hands and presses a deeper kiss onto you. He groans at the sound of your faint whimper as he hastily pushes the props and other items that stand between you two to the side, not giving a damn if they get all messed up.

His body hovers over yours as he leans closer to you, gently guiding your back onto the wooden floor of the stage. Your hands try to cling onto his broad shoulders, but as soon as you lay completely flat beneath Sangyeon, you find yourself grabbing onto the back of his hair and pulling him closer than ever before.

He inserts his knee between your legs, causing them to split apart while he tries his best not to place his entire weight onto you. Your core accidentally brushes against his thigh as you both adjust yourselves, gasping into his mouth at the delicious friction below. Sangyeon wastes no time slipping his tongue between your lips, moaning at how your tongues move together so perfectly. He needed to taste more of you or else he would go insane.

As Sangyeon's lips pull away from yours, they start to make a trail from your jaw down to the column of your neck. Each kiss feels as if he's leaving permanent marks on you despite not actually sucking on your skin. Your faint whimpers and sighs of satisfaction encourage him to keep going. He was so lost in the moment that he had forgotten where you were. But that didn't matter to him at all.

All he could think about was having you in his arms again.

Just as things were starting to become even more heated between you two, a loud ringing echoes in the air. The source was coming from your phone, which was just a few inches away from Sangyeon. At first, you tried to ignore it, too caught up in the sensation of Sangyeon's lips on your neck, his hands inching dangerously close to areas that made your core throb in excitement. But when the phone kept on ringing, you couldn't avoid the curiosity any longer.

You reach for your phone, trying to calm yourself before answering so that whoever was calling you wouldn't suspect anything odd on your end (but that alone was difficult as Sangyeon deepened the kisses on your neck).

"Hello?" Your phone fumbles against your ear as you try to hold it steady. "Oh, Hyunjae, I was just—"

As soon as you said his name, Sangyeon froze. It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him, suddenly bringing him back to reality. He chuckles under his breath, mentally slapping himself for getting so carried away with you like this that he forgot the person thats between you and him.

Sangyeon lets go of your waist and abruptly gets up to straighten his clothes and hair. Without warning, he hops off the stage and walks towards the exit of the auditorium. You try to process what the fuck is happening all the while maintaining your current conversation with Hyunjae over the phone.

"I'll call you back, Hyunjae. Give me a sec—" You get up and try to follow Sangyeon quickly.

By the time you burst through the theater's doors, you see Sangyeon walking to the nearest fountain to take a sip and splash water on his face. You walk towards him carefully as he lets out a sigh of frustration and runs his fingers through his hair.

"Sangyeon?" you call out softly, reaching out to touch his shoulder. But he flinches away from your touch, causing a massive ache in your chest.

"This... this was a mistake. I shouldn't have come here," he replies, his voice cold and distant.

"What? Sangyeon, can you please just—"

"It's nothing," he interrupts you.

"It's not nothing. Tell me."

"Seriously, it's nothing. Leave it alone."

"Sangyeon, cut the bullshit," you snap, your patience wearing thin.

"What?" he asks, his tone defensive.

"You've been acting weird towards me ever since the day after my birthday, and I want to know why," you say, your voice rising with frustration. "Why have you been avoiding me? Making me feel like shit?"

Something in Sangyeon seems to snap at your words. "You want to know what it is?" he practically shouts. "Hyunjae. He's my fucking problem. Doesn't help that I see you two everywhere I go and practically hear you two at each other like animals!"

"I didn't even know you were coming over that day!" you retort. "This all wouldn't have happened if you had just not cut me off like that. It fucking hurt, Sangyeon. Then now you can't just suddenly walk into my life again like nothing happened, kiss me, and expect everything to be okay!"

"You wouldn't understand," Sangyeon says, his voice suddenly tired.

"Understand what exactly?" you press.

"I—" Sangyeon struggles to get the words out of his throat.

"That night, your birthday party," he says slowly, searching your face. "You don't remember anything at all?"

"Stop with the cryptic shit and just spit it out!" you say, your patience completely gone.

"Fine!" Sangyeon explodes. "You want to know why I've been avoiding you this whole time?"

You nod, bracing yourself for whatever he's about to say.

"You kissed me."

His words hit you like a train. "W-what?"

"And you wanna know what hurts the most? The way you looked at me the next day when I almost tried to kiss you again. You looked at me with this terrified expression on your face, as if you regretted what had happened." His voice lowers as he explains. You don't notice the tiny dots of tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

"W-why didn't you just tell me?" you murmur, the pieces falling into place as you realize your dream from last night was actually a forgotten memory.

"I panicked," Sangyeon admitted. "What if you didn't mean it at all and I just made a fool of myself? I didn't want to ruin our friendship. And I know how dumb it was of me to cut you off, but it hurt knowing that you didn't feel the same way and I would have to live with that memory every time I looked at you."

A numbing silence fills the air for a moment.

"I—I couldn't face you after knowing what your lips felt like, what it felt like to hold you. I'm a coward, I know that now. I should've apologized during the dance, but it was too late."

You stood there, frozen, as Sangyeon poured his heart out. Then he suddenly asks you a question that made your heart stop.

"If I hadn't kissed you just a while ago, would you still have talked to me? Would you have chosen me over Hyunjae?" Before you could formulate a response, your phone rang again. It was Hyunjae. Sangyeon's face fell, and he took a step back.

"Go," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll finish up the work inside."

You stand frozen as Sangyeon walks away. Everything suddenly feels too intense that you don’t even realize the tears that start to run down your cheeks. You need to get out of here or else you’ll drive yourself insane.

You grab your phone, fingers hovering over Hyunjae's number. At first you hesitate, torn between telling him the truth about your feelings for Sangyeon or seeking physical comfort to forget about everything. Your irrational brain picks the latter option instead.

“My place tonight? 😉”

Everything for you was completely a blur. One minute you're standing still outside the auditorium, the next you're pouncing on Hyunjae as soon as he rings your doorbell. You were so in over your head you had no grasp of time or any coherent thought.

"Looks like someone's missed me a bit too much, hm?" Hyunjae mumbles as he kisses you messily, pressing you against your front door.

"Just shut up and fuck me already, will you?" You breathe out, grabbing his hair in your hands.

"Yes, ma'am," he smirks before you both start hastily walking into the living room, leaving a trail of discarded clothes in your path.

To Hyunjae, this wouldn't be the first time he's seen you so worked up like this over him. But something about you right now seemed a bit off. Yes, seeing you incredibly horny like this was exciting, but your movements did not match the energy in your eyes. It was almost like you were on autopilot to him.

There's definitely something bothering you, he thinks. Or maybe you've been working all day and just need a way to relax. He'll probably check in on you later but for now, all he can think of is hearing those beautiful moans you make for him.

Too eager to get a taste of you, Hyunjae drags you over to your couch as he pulls you in to straddle his lap. He wastes no time littering your neck with kisses, groping your ass while you grind on his growing bulge.

"C'mere." He grabs your face in his hands, admiring little details of your face while he smiles to himself. "Tired from today?"

"Mhm." You hastily reply, wanting to not think of anything else except Hyunjae's touch. So you lean in to kiss his neck while moving your hips on his lap, your hands struggling to unbuckle his belt.

The way you answered just now threw Hyunjae off. There was definitely something wrong with you. How does he know? It was all in your eyes. Usually, you looked at Hyunjae directly when he called your attention. But now? It was like you were trying to completely avoid any sort of eye contact with him, and that was making him feel uneasy.

"Hey, uh—are you alright?" He calmly asks while gently holding your hips.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" You mumble against his throat. Hyunjae thought he might be overthinking, but the more you struggled to unbuckle his belt (which was not a difficult task for you in the past), he couldn't continue on with you like this.

He calls out your name, hoping you'd stop to look at him, but you don't pay him mind. He says your name two more times and you still ignore him. Instead, he grabs your wrists and holds them up to finally get your attention.

"Talk to me, please—" He searches your face, trying to get a better look at you.

"There's nothing to talk about, Hyunjae." You huff out, irritated that he suddenly halted your movements.

"You think I'm dumb? There is clearly something wrong and you don't wanna say it," he says sternly, trying not to get too irritated with how you're acting towards him.

"I'm telling you there's nothing wrong."

"I don't believe that at all."

"Ugh, Hyunjae, can you just stop? It's none of your business!"

"It is my business if it's making you this upset—"

"Why do I have to tell you anyway?! It's not like you're my real boyfriend—" Your eyes widen as you suddenly regret saying those last words. And to add fuel to the fire, the way Hyunjae looks at you makes you want to vomit. You've never seen his face drop in an instant. The way the light in his eyes burned out so quick, too.

"Hyunjae, I— I didn't mean to, I'm so—"

"You're right," Hyunjae interrupts you.

"What?" You look at him confused.

"You're right. I'm not your boyfriend. But I am your friend. And I deserve to know what's been bothering you because I care about you so much I hate seeing you like this."

His stern but concerned voice hits you so fast you end up bursting into tears on the spot. Sobbing hysterically into his chest as you cry out all the pent-up emotions you locked away from tonight.

Hyunjae instantly wraps his arms around you and envelops you in a warm embrace. He gently strokes your hair while steadying his own breath, waiting for you to calm down until you feel better. You both sit in silence for a few minutes until Hyunjae's voice breaks the ice.

"It's about Sangyeon, isn't it?" He says calmly. Your head springs up in response.

"How did you—"

"The last time I saw you cry like this was when you were outside the gym during the dance." Hyunjae cups your face and wipes the remaining tears from your eyes with his thumbs.

"And well… if you were crying about me, we know it's for an entirely different reason." He smirks, trying to lighten the mood. You let out a faint laugh as he continues to stroke your cheek with his thumb.

"You should be with him—" Hyunjae says as he looks into your eyes. Before you can even ask, he continues. "That's who you want to be with, right? That's who you should be with right now, not me."

"Hyunjae, I—" You shake your head in disbelief. "What about you?"

"Me?" He asks with a surprised tone. "This isn't about me! It's about you. I'm not the one you need, we both know that. We both knew that at the very beginning. It was always Sangyeon." Hyunjae's voice starts getting weaker the more he speaks out the truth.

"I've always seen the way he looked at you and how you looked at him. It's clear as day that you both need each other more than you both realize it."

"But what about our agreement?" You ask him softly.

"Remember the first rule? If one of us wants to stop this thing at any given moment, the contract will end." He pauses his thought as he looks at you a little longer, taking you to memory before letting out a big sigh.

"And besides, our agreement broke a long time ago."

"What do you mean?" Your eyebrows knit in confusion.

"Well—" Hyunjae's cheeks start to warm up. "I fell in love with you the night of our first time." He faintly smiles. Rule number two, if any of us catch some sort of feelings for one another, the contract is immediately terminated.

"That night, you looked at me like I was the most important person in the world. That I wasn't the guy everyone in school knew as some kind of dick. You looked at me as Hyunjae, the real Hyunjae." He brushes a hair behind your ear. "How dumb of me to fall for those pretty eyes of yours." He sighs once more, trying his best to not let you see his lips quivering.

"I'm so sorry—" You start to tear up, knowing that this would probably be the last moments you have with Hyunjae.

"Hey, don't go all soft on me just because I said that, alright?" Hyunjae tries to bring energy back into his voice.

"I knew what I was getting into. You deserve to be happy, and if I'm not the reason for your happiness and you're stuck with me, that would break my heart even more."

He grabs your face so you could look him in the eye properly. "Got it?" You nod in response.

"Now c'mon. Be a good hostess and walk me out of your apartment." Hyunjae smiles before grabbing your wrists and pulling you up from his lap.

He helps you grab your clothes on the floor and even dresses you up and does the same for himself after. By the time he sets one foot out your front door, he suddenly turns around to face you.

"Can I just have one more request from you before this is all over?" he asks.

"Oh? What would that be?" You look up at him.

"Just one kiss goodbye." He smirks playfully. You chuckle before nodding your head to give him the go signal.

You close your eyes waiting for the warmth of his lips on yours for the last time, but instead feel it on your forehead.

"Don't be a stranger, alright?" he places his hand on your shoulder and gently rubs it for the last time before completely heading out the door.

For the last couple of hours, Sangyeon did nothing but lie on his bed and stare at the ceiling. He could still feel his heart pounding in his ears from your heated exchange at the auditorium earlier this evening. What made things worse was the fact he could still feel your lips on his, and your little sighs of pleasure were replaying in his head.

Where did it all go wrong? Was it when he offered to help you? Or when you leaned into his palm just like you did when you first kissed him? He couldn't stop mentally beating himself up for going off like that on you when you didn't even remember that night to begin with.

And now, not only did he pour his heart out, but there's also a guaranteed chance you may never speak to him again. He regrets this night more than keeping the truth from you.

2 A.M. was what was read on the clock of his bedside table when he turned his head. He hardly even noticed the time go by as too many thoughts and emotions were stirring in his head. His head started to ache from staying up too late.

It was difficult to forget everything that had happened between you two, but sleep seemed like the best option for him at the moment to distance himself from the issue. Sangyeon tried to close his eyes and count sheep; he could slowly start to feel himself drift into sleep until he heard loud knocks on his front door.

Pissed off, he groans and trudges to see who had interrupted his moment to fall sleep. Sangyeon swings the door open quickly, hoping to show the person on the other side his irritable mood.

"You better have a good explanation as to why you're here—" Sangyeon's eyes widen at the unexpected visitor.

"Hyunjae? What— what are you doing here?" he asks.

"Do you love her?" Hyunjae looks him in the eye.

"What?" Sangyeon's eyebrows furrow at the vague question.

"I said," Hyunjae sighs out of frustration, "Do you love her? Because she fucking loves you, man. And if you don't go over there right now—" Hyunjae takes a step forward, his figure almost towering over Sangyeon's.

"You will lose the greatest person that has ever come into your life," he asserted firmly. Out of nowhere, Hyunjae pulls a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and shoves it into Sangyeon's hand.

"No time to explain, just go!" Hyunjae increases his voice slightly.

Sangyeon stays still for a moment, trying to process what the hell is happening right now, then moves hastily to grab his phone, keys, and put on his shoes. As soon as Sangyeon locks his front door, he turns around to face Hyunjae.

"T-thanks, man. I owe you one," he humbly says. Hyunjae faintly smiles, nodding in return. A silent truce being made between the two.

Sangyeon drives to your place like a maniac, not caring if he has run any stop lights or whatever. He doesn't care at all. All he can think about is getting there in time to see you before it's too late to win you back. By the time he reaches your front door, he takes a deep breath before ringing your doorbell.

You open the door slowly, cautious about who could be visiting you at this time. The moment you peek and get a glimpse of Sangyeon's face, your face knits in confusion.

"S-Sangyeon? What are you doing here?" You look up at him. Sangyeon can see how red and puffy your eyes are; it almost makes him mentally beat himself up once more, but he will deal with that later.

"I came to see you," he matches your whisper. "Can I come in?" You nod and open the door wider as he takes off his shoes, lets himself in, and places the bouquet of flowers down on a table. You're slightly stunned as soon as you close the door and turn around to see Sangyeon standing close to you.

"W-what are you doing?" Your voice quivers as your eyes search his.

"What I should've done a long time ago—" he gently grabs your face in his palms, observing your reaction to his touch before leaning in to give you a light kiss on the lips. You try your best to kiss him back with the same firmness despite feeling incredibly weak from crying your eyes out the whole night.

When Sangyeon pulls away from the kiss, he then gently kisses your forehead and slowly litters your face with his kisses. You instinctively wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him closer while your eyes flutter shut and melt into his touch. Tears of joy start streaming down your face as your heartbeat slowly paces itself to a calm rhythm.

"You really hurt me, you know?" you croak.

"And I'll never do that again." Sangyeon looks deeply into your eyes. "I don't care if I have to spend the rest of my life making it up to you." He kisses your forehead once more before pulling you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around your hips while yours move to wrap around his neck.

You stay like this for a while, basking in each other's warm embrace. As Sangyeon opens his eyes for a moment, he catches his reflection staring back at him through a mirror nearby. When his eyes drift to the back of your figure, his heartbeat starts to rise intensely.

It did not occur to him that when you opened the door, you were wearing nothing but a short and very thin nightgown. Naturally, the silk of the nightgown bunches up as his arms hold your waist, giving him a tasteful glimpse of not only your lace underwear but also the fact that the undergarment you’re wearing shows your ass beautifully.

Sangyeon suddenly starts a coughing fit, trying to beat his chest to clear his throat while you're taken aback.

"Are you okay? What happened?" You hold his shoulder while he attempts to regain his composure.

"I—uh—" He scratches the back of his head, trying his best to avoid looking in your direction. But that fails when you catch him scanning your figure and his cheeks suddenly glowing a shade of pink.

"I—I can turn around while you grab a robe." His eyes look around your apartment. You giggle at his sudden embarrassment, finding it rather endearing more than anything. You take a step closer to him, your bodies practically millimeters apart.

"It's alright Sangyeon, you can look." You try to hide the smirk forming on your lips.

"I'm trying to be a gentleman here, okay?" He replies, still trying to avoid your gaze. But he is instantly brought back to face you as you pull his chin with your thumb and index finger to get him to look directly into your eyes.

"But… what if I don't want you to be a gentleman tonight?" you whisper.

"Oh, thank fucking God—" Sangyeon pulls you into a heated kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck once more as his hands travel down to the doughy flesh of your ass, groping and kneading it.

Your hands are all over each other as you both struggle to make your way into your bedroom, giggling in between kisses as he nearly trips over your carpet. Sangyeon eagerly plops you down on the edge of your bed, kneeling down to match your eye level as you pull him by his shirt to swipe the tip of your tongue across his bottom lip. He moans into your mouth as he opens up for you, intertwining his tongue with yours as his hands rest on your lap.

Sangyeon slowly spreads your legs apart and inserts himself in between, his hands gripping your inner thighs as his lips start to travel down to your neck. You sigh out dreamily, feeling the warmth of his lips make their mark on you.

You suddenly yelp at a particular spot that Sangyeon nips. He pulls away to check if you're okay. You nod, giving him the signal to continue. Before diving back in, Sangyeon notices the spot he had nipped was already red, indicating a mark had been made prior to his own.

Hyunjae… He can already hear that laugh ringing in his ears, but decides not to let the idea get to him and focus on you right now.

Sangyeon continues to litter your neck with kisses, leaving a trail as he makes his way to kissing your inner thighs. Your breathing starts to shake as his lips inch closer to your sex. Sangyeon wasn't even near your core, and he could already feel the heat radiating from you, making him smirk against your skin before giving a featherlight kiss to the wet patch on your underwear.

"Sangyeon, please…" You whine, desperate to feel his tongue wedged between your folds.

"Shh, it’s okay," he looks up at you as he kisses your clothed mound once more. "Let me take the lead."

His fingers pull your panties to the side, feeling his length throb at the beautiful sight of your slick glistening, enticing him to just dive into you. And he does exactly that as he kisses your folds before lapping his tongue between them, taking his sweet time to memorize what you feel like against his wet muscle.

You let out a loud moan as you lie back to enjoy the feeling of Sangyeon between your legs. He continues on like this for a moment until the tip of his tongue starts to circle around your sensitive bud, making your hands fly to his head to pull his face closer to your core.

His lips suck on your throbbing clit as he inserts two fingers into your entrance, curling them up to hit that spot that makes your eyes roll back. Your hips start to mindlessly move on their own as you grind yourself on Sangyeon's face. You sound incredibly hot; it spurs Sangyeon to lower his sweatpants down to free his aching cock and fist it harshly.

You start to feel your high approaching fast, the knot inside you ready to snap any second now. But the moment the vibrations of Sangyeon's groan ring against your core, you scream in ecstasy. You clench your thighs together, squeezing his head as your essence bursts in Sangyeon's mouth. For a quick moment, he thinks to himself that if he could choose to leave this earth, he would gladly go out by being suffocated between your legs.

He pulls his head away to check on you, your chest rising and falling heavily as you catch your breath. You couldn't believe the sight before you right now: Sangyeon's disheveled hair as he too catches his breath, the shine of your essence all over his mouth and chin, and the warmth of his cheeks flaring.

"T-that was—" You try to express your current state, but Sangyeon interrupts you as he quickly removes his shirt and gets up from his spot, exposing his glorious abs and his incredibly hard cock standing at attention. You were so mesmerized by his body you didn't even see him suddenly hovering over your body and kissing you like a man starved.

"Oh, I'm not finished with you yet, sweetheart—" he mumbles against your lips. He spreads your legs further apart with his knee and lowers his weight on you, the tip of his manhood nudging your sensitive clit in the process.

Sangyeon kisses your chest, busy distracting you with the way his mouth sucks on your exposed nipple. He swiftly grabs your legs to wrap them around his torso. And in one swift moment, his thick, veiny length fills you up entirely. You both moan as he starts to roll his hips into you, pumping himself in and out of your cunt as your walls grip around him tightly.

Your bodies begin to melt into each other the longer Sangyeon fucks into your heat, all the raw emotions that have been brewing between you finally free from their confinement. He buries his head into your neck as his thrusts start to become stuttered, the throb of his length inside you signaling his high approaching. You dig the heels of your feet into his lower back, locking him in place as you also feel yourself reaching for the stars once more.

"Let go, Sangyeon, it's okay." You moan into his ear, and instantly he lets out a guttural moan as he stills his movements. His warm release bursts inside you as your own high finally falls off the edge, your walls gripping his member like a vice as he embraces you tightly in the process.

You allow yourselves to stay like this a little longer, taking the time to process everything that had just happened before Sangyeon pulls out and gets up to grab a warm towel to get you cleaned up. He freshens up a bit in your bathroom before finally joining you under the covers. You lay your head on his chest as he pulls you in for a hug.

You sigh dreamily, looking up at him as he smiles at you. You both slowly kiss once more before finally drifting to sleep, both your hearts and minds finally put at ease.

The next day, you wake up with Sangyeon hugging you close. His lips are pressed on your forehead as you feel the warmth of his breath fanning you. You smile, recalling the events of last night and finally being in Sangyeon's arms again.

You slowly peel his arms off you as you get up to use the restroom and make yourself coffee. As you finish brewing your coffee, the bouquet of flowers Sangyeon had put down on the counter catches your eye. You gently grab the bouquet and find a good vase to transfer the flowers into. A sealed envelope tucked between the flowers falls to your feet.

You pick up the envelope and scan the item in your hand for a quick moment before opening the flap and seeing the card inside. You smile to yourself as soon as you read the note, a bittersweet feeling blooming in your chest as you read:

"Pretty girls like you shouldn't be crying anymore, okay? — L.HJ"

[remlionheart]

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦ ˚ *

Marinade

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ when i first decided that i wanted to write some yuuji angst, i had a v vague idea in my head of what it might look like, but when i tell you that this fic took me for a ride, i mean it. angel boy yuuji itadori finds himself mourning his 22nd birthday rather than celebrating it. sitting alone at a bar, overwhelmed by grief when he's suddenly greeted by the one part of his past that doesn't hurt to look at. 4.9k words. hurt/comfort, angst, smut, fluff, slice of life, shonen, literally everything and anything going on here. i was crying and smiling and rooting for these characters and i'm not sure that i'll ever emotionally recover from writing this, but i'm really happy w the outcome so lemme know whatcha think, luv you ♡ (also shoutout to my girl @bratbby333 for always being my biggest hype-woman and proofreading for me when i've looked at a fic for too long and start to hate it) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

now playing: marinade by dope lemon

Yuuji hadn't seen you since middle school.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He remembered you as the girl who had pretty handwriting and a serious affinity for the color blue. The girl who would leave pastel origami hearts on his desk without ever saying why. The girl who'd hide away in the library during lunch instead of eating with the rest of the class. The girl who he'd watch on the bus ride home with a sinking feeling in his stomach, catching the way your eyes glossed over each time the driver stopped in front of your house.

He learned how much you loved to read and write that year. Glancing at you from across the study hall room, secretly jotting down what number was printed along the spine of your book so that he could get you the next one in the series. He'd leave it on your desk before class started, the same way you did with his origami hearts. Never saying a word about it.

He watched you fill countless journals, your face always so concentrated as you poured your thoughts into them. He’d stop by the shopping plaza near his house after school every time he noticed that you’d reached the last page, spending his allowance to make sure there was a new one waiting for you the next morning. Each one he gave you, a different shade of blue.

But it wasn’t until the last day of eighth grade that he finally mustered up the courage to break the not-so-silent-silence the two of you had been sharing for the last 6 months. He sat down next to you, introducing himself even though it went without saying. His eyebrows furrowed a bit when you wordlessly slipped out an earbud and handed it to him. A rare, but visible smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. He held it in his palm for a moment, his eyes drifting along your face as he brought it to his ear, letting the tangled white cord tether the two of you together.

He’d never heard the song before, but he still remembered thinking how fitting it was. Dreamy and melodic - just like you. The singer's voice was full of raw sincerity, adding another layer of atmospheric haze to the already heady beat while the chorus gradually filled the space between you.

He didn't have the right words to explain it at the time, but he felt lucky as he watched you stare out the window that day. Lucky to know how pretty you looked when the sunlight caught the side of your face. Lucky to know which fantasy novels you liked to spend hours losing yourself in. Lucky to know what type of music you listened to when you were deep in thought. Lucky, just to be sitting next to you.

His heart jumped around in his chest when your eyes met his again. Both of you exchanging the same somber smile as you realized what road you were on.

He handed his half of the headphones back to you, secretly relieved at how calm you still seemed despite the fact that your stop was next.

“That song,” he hesitated, the lyrics still swirling through his mind. “what was it –”

But his question came to an abrupt end as the bus began to brake, a new and overwhelming warmth dancing through his veins when he noticed how close you suddenly were to him.

His pupils doubled in size, his breath catching in his throat while you leaned in carefully, pressing the softest kiss against his boyish cheek.

"Have a good summer, Yuuji." you whispered, grabbing your backpack off the floor.

His hand rested where your lips had been, his gaze following you off of the bus. You made it about halfway up your driveway before pausing to look back at him over your shoulder, two lingering smiles blurring past one another as the driver hurried on with her route.

The next two months were filled with sunshine and soccer practice for him. Bike rides and camping trips and basketball courts. His days were usually full, but no matter what he was doing or where he was going, there was one song that was always on the tip of his tongue:

♫⋆｡ ♪ ₊ ﾟ“Do you want me? Just how I am? Do you need me and where I stand?”

One song that would forever remind him of you:

"Let's go steady, let's make a plan. Marinade on that for a little while." ⋆｡ ♪ ₊♬ ﾟ。

And he did.

He marinaded on the infatuation he felt for you the rest of that entire summer.

When August arrived that year and brought everyone back for high school, he was ready.

There were stories he wanted to tell you, questions he wanted to ask you. Playlists he wanted to make with you. Books he'd found while thrifting that he wanted to give to you. Daydreams he had of roaming the halls and laughing with you. Visions of bringing his lunch into the library so he could eat with you. He couldn't wait to hear about your summer. Couldn't wait to catch up with you. Couldn't wait to see you.

Unfortunately for you both though, life had other, much darker plans in store for the pink-haired boy who just wanted to carry around your books for you and hold your hand during passing period.

He was called out of class early on the first day. Forced to leave the building before he even had the chance to see you as he frantically tracked down the nearest shuttle and rushed across town to get to the hospital. His grandpa’s health had been on a slow decline, but after his most recent fall, it had suddenly started to plummet.

Yuuji missed the majority of that week, dedicating all of his time to the man who had essentially raised him. He would bring him food and sit with him for hours even though he was mostly incoherent. He’d tell him about his day and leave flowers by his bedside. He'd watch reruns of old game shows with him that they used to watch when Yuuji was little, completely ignoring the nurses who would say things like, "You need to give yourself a break.”

The hospital staff tried their best to get him to take a day off. To go back to school and live his own life, but Yuuji just couldn’t. His grandpa was the only family he'd ever really had. There was no way he was going to leave him. He ditched the comfort of his bedroom and began sleeping on the cramped hospital futon next to the grey-haired man, teaching himself what each machine hooked up to him was responsible for and what vitals they monitored. He’d sometimes leave throughout the day, but it was only for a couple of hours at most. He'd return with more flowers and books to read to him. By the third week of school, he'd missed almost every single one of his classes, but he didn’t care. His priorities were firm.

Yuuji stayed by his side - day in and day out, until the very end.

When he woke up to the sound of erratic beeping and codes that he didn't understand being called out by nurses, he knew. He knew in his heart that this was it. Amongst the chaos were two sets of shaking hands reaching for each other, his grandpa's last words hanging heavily in the space between them,

“Yuuji... You're a strong kid, try your best to help others, okay?”

He remembered thinking at that moment that there couldn’t be a worse feeling. That he couldn’t possibly have anything else left to lose. He was only 15 and he was now officially all on his own as he watched the only parental figure he had let out his last breath of air.

He had no family, no future, no chance.

Fate was a cruel and calculating thing though. A few days after the funeral, Yuuji discovered that he did have a future. One that was irreversibly sealed the minute he stepped foot into Jujutsu High. He had to let go of everything he'd known in exchange for the damning task of becoming a vessel for Ryomen Sukuna. He had to trade in his mundane role of being a high school freshman for the daunting responsibility of becoming a first-year sorcerer. And arguably the hardest thing of all, he had to give up the simple pleasure of sharing a set of tangled headphones with you to try and save a world that didn't truly care about him.

There was no room for normalcy anymore. This was his new life and it was ending, one day at a time.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He sat at a nearly vacant bar by himself, staring down the empty glass in front of him, watching the ice melt as he ran a shaky hand along the back of his neck.

It was 4 o'clock and he was only one of two people here this early. The lights and music were still being adjusted by the workers. Cups being stocked and coolers being filled for the inevitable Saturday-night rush that would come in the next few hours. His goal was to be absolutely obliterated by then - to already be on his way back home before the swarm of college students took over.

He paused, noticing the calendar hanging by the craft beer list in front of him. His heart stuttered a bit as he blinked back at the date. No wonder he'd been feeling so reminiscent lately.

He leaned over the counter hoping to find the bartender who'd poured his first drink, but to no avail.

He grabbed his glass, sucking down the very last drop of whiskey it had to offer, trying desperately to drown out the realization that today was his 22nd birthday and the people who should be here with him weren't.

Almost every friend he'd made over the last ten years had been ripped away from him. They were scattered memories. Familiar voices that he did his best to hold onto. Faces, names, deaths that followed him everywhere he went.

Middle school and the innocence of just wanting to hold a pretty girl's hand while she walked down the hallway were long gone. He was an adult now. A very tired and traumatized adult.

He peered around the corner again, half-tempted to jump over the bar and pour himself another drink when the stereo kicked on, an overwhelming wave of pure, deep blue nostalgia flooding over him without warning.

His back straightened, his eyes suddenly darting towards the speaker as the lyrics drifted across his skin, causing every hair on his body to stand up at once.

"She wanted to die by a river. She wanted the tide to come up and drag her away, so that when she's dreamin', she can watch the tree line fall away." ⋆｡ ♪

It was the same hazy melody that he'd spent an entire summer listening to on repeat. He still knew every word, every beat. It was muscle memory the way his fingertips began to drum along the counter when a bartender finally emerged from the back.

"Sorry, do you need a –"

Time stilled, the glass nearly slipping from his hand as your gaze caught his.

"Yuuji?"

Despite how much you'd changed since the last time he saw you, your voice was somehow just as soft as he remembered it being.

He stared back at you in quiet disbelief, guilt quickly settling in the pit of his stomach as he thought about how fucking strange and unexpected this all must feel for you too.

From your perspective, he'd spent all of 8th grade trying to befriend you only to up and leave without even saying goodbye. And now, 7 years later - he was at your work, looking back at you like you were an actual angel, and forgetting every word he knew.

Your eyes stayed locked on his for another moment, both of you studying the person in front of you before you finally let out a shaky breath and smiled at him.

"Here," You offered, suddenly feeling the need to soothe your own nerves too. "On the house."

He tried to tell you that he could pay for it, but it was too late. You were already pouring two shots and motioning for him to put his wallet away.

"Okay, fine. But..." There was a glimmer in his eye as he pulled his glass away from yours. "What are we toasting to?"

The smile he gave you felt like a warm hug. One that you didn't realize you needed until you had it again. "Oh," You stammered, trying to ignore the blood that was rushing to your cheeks. "What about... To old friends?"

He nodded, still wearing the same expression as your drinks lightly knocked together. "To old friends."

He couldn't help but grin again at the little shiver that swept across your body as you finished yours.

Your hair was longer, your features a bit more mature, but your mannerisms were all the same. You were still the girl that was made up of mid-day sunlight, handbound books, and shades of blue that were too pretty to exist in this world.

You grabbed a beer out of the cooler and slid it to him, once again ignoring the credit card he tried to hand you. "Yuuji, relax." you leaned against the counter, resting your head in your hands so that you were eye-level with him. "They're not gonna go bankrupt over a $2 IPA, I promise."

"If you say so."  

You both exchanged the same small smile, his finger lightly running along the counter. "So," he cleared his throat, completely unsure of where to start. "How've you been?"

It was a loaded question, maybe even a dumb question considering how much time had passed, but he didn't care. He really did want to know how you'd been. What you'd been up to. What type of things you'd been writing about. What your Spotifty playlists looked like. What you did on your days off. He wanted to know everything. All of it.

"Well," you exhaled, trying to find an easy way to condense the last seven years of your life. "My parents..." your eyebrows furrowed, realizing that you'd never gotten the chance to tell him why you used to dread your old bus route so much. "My parents finally got divorced..."

“Oh shit, I’m sorry -"

“No,” You said swiftly, not wanting him to feel bad for asking. "It was more of a relief than anything. They used to fight, a lot. My mom wasn't always the nicest when she drank... It probably should've happened way sooner to be honest."

His breathing slowed as memories of you with tears in your eyes walking up your driveway smashed through his mind. He'd promised himself that he would ask you about it one day, but he had no idea it'd be this much later on. He'd wanted to talk to you about it as kids. Wanted to know what scared you so much about going home, but he didn't know how. It was the reason why he left journals on your desk. The reason why he never let you go without the next book in your series.

For everything he couldn't say, he tried to show. But he'd failed you on both accounts the day he disappeared.

"My parents separated my -" you paused, eyes dragging to his as you corrected yourself. "our graduation year."

He nodded, doing his best to digest the thought of you walking down the aisle in a cap and gown with the weight of your parents' downfall on your shoulders.

"But, after that," you smiled slightly. “I applied to college and got accepted. Started working here. Got my own apartment. And I don't know...” you shrugged, "I think in a weird way, things happened the way they were supposed to. It was like everything needed to fall apart before it got better, you know?"

He smiled back at you, your last sentence lingering in the space between you as he reached for your hand. He probably wouldn't have understood that sentiment a year ago, but watching your eyes widen while your fingers slowly tangled into his, he knew exactly what you meant now.

"I'm really sorry I wasn't there..." His thumb brushed against the side of your hand, steadying himself as he let 15-year-old him and 22-year-old him come together to say what they had both been holding onto for so long. "I didn't want to leave. I just -"

Your heart swelled in your chest, watching him blink back tears he wasn't prepared to shed. "Life got really hard for a really long time for me too. But, whenever I felt myself drifting... I thought of you. Thought of the way you'd glance at me from over your book during class. Thought of the way you smiled when you thought no one was watching. I thought of you... all the time. And it was like, no matter how dark things got, it reminded me that life could be good, because it was at one point. So..."

Your hand tightened around his, two sets of glossy eyes now staring back at each other as he forced himself to say what he should've years ago. "I'm sorry that I wasn't there, but... I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere."

You were dizzy with emotion. Swimming through feelings that you'd kept buried for nearly the last decade. The thoughts you'd only been brave enough to write down. The overwhelming urge to kiss him again and again and again until neither one of you had any air left in your lungs.

Your mouth opened and then closed, your body saying more than you were capable of with how desperately you were holding onto him.

You weren't sure what you were doing. Didn't have time to think or care about the repercussions of your impulsiveness.

"Hey Mai," You called out, "I'm really not feeling well. Think I'm gonna go home."

Yuuji's head was shaking no, but the surprised smile tugging at the corner of his mouth was saying otherwise. "What're you doing?" he whisper-shouted, watching you run around the bar to grab his hand again.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Mai yelled from the back, but it was too late.

You and Yuuji were already gone, practically sprinting alongside each other, laughing as you booked it across the parking lot.

"First the free beer and now this?"

"They won't go bankrupt over me missing one day." You winked. "C'mon, I wanna show you something."

You may have been leading the way, but he was still the athlete between the two of you, purposefully slowing himself down to not be right on your heels. But when he noticed you starting to pant as the road curved into an upward slope, he reached out for you, gently spinning you around to face him.

"Come here." he knelt down, positioning himself so that you could easily wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

He carried you piggy-back style up the hill, the sun fading into an array of pink and orange as you pointed out every bookstore around campus, explaining which ones were your favorites and why. Promising to get matcha with him tomorrow at a local coffee shop you passed. Asking him about his time at Jujutsu High and trying to wrap your mind around what little he was able to tell you as he swore that he'd fill you in on the full story when the time was right. You caught him up on what he'd missed the last three years of high school and how your college classes had been going. You talked about libraries and ghosts and laughed about how in 7th grade he'd joined the occult club just because he thought it'd be an easy after-school credit.

By the time you'd finally reached the spot you'd wanted to show him, the moon had almost completely replaced the sun. Your cheeks hurt from smiling and your hands were full of a mixture of different flowers that he'd picked for you along the way.

"This is..." he trailed off, watching the sky shift into a deep blend of blue and silver. "Beautiful. How'd you even find this place?"

It was an abandoned park surrounded by overgrown trees that overlooked the city, only one rusted swing set left to its name. The hike you had to endure just to find it had more than likely been the cause of its demise, trekking up here with a backpack was hard enough, let alone a stroller.

"I kinda found it by accident." You shrugged. "I was working on an art project and needed a good view of the skyline. I looked up a bunch of different places online, but then I saw this spot and just knew."

Yuuji pulled off his hoodie, sweat trickling down his neck from the late-summer heat as the two of you sat in the grass, his arm gently wrapping around your waist.

There had been so many times you'd sat in this exact same spot by yourself, wondering what the odds were that you were both somehow looking up at the same star.

Your head rested on his shoulder, a warm gust of air swirling around you as you both looked out into the distance, watching the way the stars faded into the Tokyo lights.

"Hey, Yuuji?" You twirled a blade of grass between your fingers, not wanting to ruin the moment, but still needing to be sure.

"Yeah?"

"You promise, right?"

"Hm?" He could hear the concern in your voice, his grip tightening as he pulled you closer.

"You promise that... you're not leaving again?"

"I swear, I'm not going anywhere. And if I do," His eyes returned to yours, his free hand attentively resting under your chin. "I'm taking you with me."

You nodded, warmth washing over you as he traced along your jawline, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

Your fears were lost to his touch. Your worries dissolving into the sincerity of his voice. Your need for reassurance wholeheartedly met when his hand cupped your cheek and his lips finally caught yours. Seven years' worth of pent-up feelings pouring out between the two of you, hands roaming and little moans slipping out between breaths while you tugged on the collar of his shirt to bring him closer. He was gentle but eager. Soft but secure. Perfect, in every way.

He hovered over you, easing you onto the grass as he made a makeshift pillow out of his hoodie for you to rest your head on.

You smiled as his lips drifted from your mouth to your neck, his palm delicately traveling up your shirt, pulling your bra to the side while he helped slide your tank-top up over your head. He kissed your collarbones, whispering sweet little praises into your skin. "You're gorgeous, you know that?"

He rested a hand under your back, steadying you as his tongue flickered across your chest. He took his time, making sure to give each nipple the same amount of attention, still humming things like, "the prettiest girl I've ever seen" while his hand traced over your hip.

He tugged at the waistline of your shorts, looking up at you through his lashes as he began to leave featherlight kisses along the inside of your thigh, his blood racing at the sounds you were suddenly making.

"Does that feel good, baby?"

You whimpered out a broken "yes", practically dripping when his fingers spread you apart. He watched you writhe beneath him, drawing slow but firm circles around you. Trying not to lose himself to the way your legs were already shaking for him.

"Yuuji," you whined. "I -" his mouth was ghosting your center, his fingers still playing with your clit while he held you in place. "I n - need you." your voice was heady, lost somewhere in the clouds the faster he went. "I wanna f - feel you, so bad."

"Yeah?" He smiled, his breath still fanning across your core as his digits prodded carefully at your entrance. He groaned at how beautifully your walls swallowed him. "I wanna feel you too."

Your head lulled back, eyes pointed at the sky while your hand tangled into his pink hair. His mouth was warm and heavenly, his tongue running uppp and dowwnnn your center, saliva mixing with slick while his fingers plunged into you.

"Oh, fuck."

He only went deeper the louder you got, flattening his tongue against you with just the right pressure to keep you saying his name. His ring and middle finger hitting spots you'd never been able to reach yourself. You were clenching around him, your thighs locking around his head as you rocked against his tongue.

"Yuuji - you're gonna make me -" he thought it was adorable the way you struggled to get more than two words out at a time. "Fuck, I -"

"Mhmm, just like that."

He was in the same daze you were, sliding in and out of you feverishly until he finally felt the blissful release of your walls spasming around him. Your body suddenly unable to hold it in any longer as you gave him the privilege of really tasing you.

"Oh my god," he moaned, faithfully lapping up every bit of you he could get, only pulling away when you started begging for him.

"Yuuji -" It was needy and light-headed. "Come here, come here. Please."

The way he lifted his head up, smiling at you with your cum dripping down his chin made something inside you ache.

You pulled him towards you, desperately wrapping your legs around his waist as he began undoing the buttons on his pants. He kissed you, again and again and again, using it as a pleasant distraction while he wriggled himself free.

He took a breath, both of you watching in blitzed out awe as he lined himself up with you. "I love you." he whispered, your eyes widening from the blend of his words and the feeling of his tip slowly entering you. "Always have."

His hair brushed against your forehead as he parted your lips with his tongue, your nails digging into his neck with his first full thrust. You were so tight and warm around him.

He tried to ease into you, encouraging you while also making sure you were comfortable. His voice sweet as honey as he asked you things like, "Is that okay, baby?" and "Aw, you like when I go deep like that, huh?"

Your gaze locked with his, your eyebrows knitting together the faster his rhythm became.

You'd thought about this moment before. Thought about what it might feel like, but nothing could've prepared you for the way your heart would race at the sound of him moaning, "You're doing so good for me." The way he'd hold you, looking back at you with stars in his eyes as he filled every inch of you.

"Yuuji -"

"Let it out, baby. S'okay." He whispered, his hand reaching for yours. "I've got you."

Your vision was blurred by the feeling of his tip meeting your cervix, warm summer air brushing against your skin as you reached your breaking point.

"I love you." The words left your mouth so fast you barely had time to register them, but then... they wouldn't stop. It was the only phrase you remembered how to say. The only emotion you remembered how to feel. "I love you." you whimpered again, feeling yourself tighten around him as your confession became more frantic. "Oh - mygod, Yuuji. I love you. I love you. I love - you."

His movements were suddenly beyond his control, his body completely succumbing to the grip of yours. "Fuck, baby - I -" He didn't know if he should pull out. Didn't know if he could pull out. His head was everywhere, his mouth dropping open the longer he watched you.

Your legs locked around him in heady reassurance. "Mm'mm, d - don't stop." You panted. "Cum with me."

It was a sentence he'd only ever thought he'd be lucky enough to hear you say in his dreams.

His hips stilled after one more thrust, your walls holding him tight as he began to twitch inside you. His forehead pressed against yours, his arms struggling to keep him propped up.

You exchanged the same exhausted smirk, leaning up to kiss him while he carefully pulled out of you. A blend of fluids spilling out onto the grass beneath you as he laid by your side with his forearm over his face, trying to regain his composure.

There was a calm silence that settled between you, the both of you looking up at the stars before you rolled over to reach for your shorts, letting him catch his breath while you dug something out of the back pocket.

"Here." You said, unraveling a tangled pair of headphones and handing him one.

His eyes widened with the same curiosity they had 7 years ago as he held it to his ear, your head resting on his chest while a song he knew all too well flowed through the small speakers connecting you. A smile splitting across his face as he held you closer.

"You know, I think you were right." he exhaled, running light fingertips along your arm. "Everything did have to fall apart before it got better."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[i-heart-hxh]

Hey! This is purely me and my morbid curiosity asking, but you mentioned you buy in to the pregnancy stone oops baby Gon origin story more than an actual mother. Can you elaborate, even if it falls with what others may have already brought up? I'd love to get your take! (also, I sent a review of your chapter 4 hxhbb fic, but I think it might've been eaten!)

Hi!

So, I do buy into it, somewhat! I think, for the time being, it's the best theory we have on Gon's parentage. There are a few interesting details related to it.

First off, Togashi included this woman with Ging in some of his early HxH concept drawings, from November 1997:

People have speculated that the woman next to Ging might be Gon's mother, however there isn't actually conclusive evidence of this--it's just a theory. It could also be an early design concept for Mito, Menchi, or one of the other female characters from the series, as the drawing isn't labeled with a name or description like some of the others. Or, she could be a scrapped concept even if she was intended at the time to be Gon's mother, as clearly this isn't finalized in any way.

You can read about this drawing a bit more here!

However, of course within the series itself we have no info on who Gon's mother might be, and Togashi did bother to include the Pregnancy Stone card:

Now, an interesting connection with this is that Togashi is known to have read the BL manga Patalliro!, as he based Hiei's hair off one of the characters, Scunky:

(From a doujinshi Togashi released, Yoshirin de Pon!)

There is also an unconfirmed but very reasonable theory that Killua may have been based in part of the character Maraich from Patalliro!, as the basis of both characters is similar and we know for a fact from the above image Togashi has read Patalliro!.

Now, how does this connect to the Pregnancy Stone theory? Well, Patalliro! also has mpreg as part of its storyline (with biologically male Maraich getting pregnant twice through unexplained means, with one of these pregnancies leading to a son), and considering Togashi may have used other elements from Patalliro! as inspiration... You can see where I'm going with this. I do think it's interesting he put the Pregnancy Stone card in the series to begin with, and there's also the Panda Maid card ("excellent at taking care of human children"), and Ging has used a panda plush as a substitute for himself in the Election arc. Coincidence? Hmmm...

Image taken from this post, explaining more about the Pregnancy Stone theory.

My personal feelings now that I've laid all this info out are basically... I've talked a lot about how intentional Togashi's storytelling is and how much attention he pays to things, so I think he planted this knowing people would consider it a possibility, at the very least. We don't have any other theories about Gon's mom that have this much to go off of. It's possible he will reveal more info eventually and either make this more likely or explain Gon's origin in some other, totally different way, but for now I think this is compelling--there are enough pieces that it is a legitimate possibility.

I'm not someone who is interested in mpreg (or any kind of preg, for that matter, LOL), so I don't spend a lot of time thinking about this whole situation or the mechanics behind it, but I do think it would be pretty hilarious if this does canonically end up being Gon's origin story after all. Just such a wild way for Gon to come into existence. It'll be interesting to see if we ever get answers with regards to who/where Gon came from, whether it's by Pregnancy Stone or not.

It's a fun topic because it seems so goofy and farfetched initially, but the more you look at it, the more it's like, "Actually..." 🤔

(And thanks again for the review, my apologies that it took me a while to reply!)

[willalove75]

Alcina's New Maid Pt. 6 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu brings you in as one of her maids, at least, that's what you thought she brought you to the castle for.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: flirty, fluff, slow burn, smut, angst.

Notes: Part 6! The angst, SO MUCH ANGST. I think this is the least amount of dialogue I've ever had in a fic so I hope you all like it💕 Do I want to stay up all night and write chapter 7 right now? Yes. Holy shit yes. But I have stupid 'sponserbilities and adulting to do so part 7 will have to wait until next week. Until then, please enjoy this angsty as fuck chapter💕💕

Click here for the rest of the series

It struck you as odd that Alcina said you were to be by her side at all times, yet you barely saw her over the last few days. You were either in your room or with the girls; a couple of times you felt like Zina was tasked with babysitting you while you followed her around the castle, helping her with some of her duties. You haven't even been into your Mistresses chambers or her study since you got the concussion. Every time you did see Alcina, she didn't act like she normally does when she's around you, she seemed colder, more distant. That was apparent when you went to the dining hall the night of the incident and instead of being seated next to Alcina like you usually were, your chair was at the opposite end of the long dining table. Alcina barely looked at you, you thought maybe she just had a rough day and you tried to not think too much into it; but every time you've had a meal with them since, your chair was placed as far away from her as possible.

It was impossible for the thoughts to not flood your mind, wondering if you did something wrong, if maybe she was finally bored with you, if you just weren't living up to her expectations? She hasn't relieved you of your duties and she hasn't brought any other maids into her chambers, at least that you're aware of. The thought of her bringing another maid into her bed made your stomach twist with jealousy, but not rage. It was mostly just sadness, disappointment, heartbreak even. You hoped she wasn't, but truth be told you really had no idea and the thought haunted you a little.

The girls noticed a difference in their mother too, but they didn't dare talk to you about it, and you respected that. That didn't stop you from overhearing them mention that Alcina has been more agitated and easily angered lately. She damn near took a maids head off when the maid tripped in front of her. The maid was fine, traumatized for sure when Alcina whipped out her claws and threatened the poor girl with them, but physically unharmed.

Alcina's week has been anything but relaxing, she's done everything she possibly could to avoid you minus locking you away in your room. She tried her hardest to avoid looking at you during meals, seating you on the opposite end of the table. Being directly across from her made trying not to look at you difficult but she managed to ignore you for the most part. There were definitely a few stolen glances, but every time she caught herself looking at you she pried her eyes away and tried to distract herself with something else.

She noticed the look in your eyes during the last few meals, a look of sadness, confusion, uncertainty. Alcina brushed it off and did her best to keep the guilt from eating away at her. Her vices were her crutch during these trying times, she's been smoking nearly twice as much and drinking at least a bottle of her wine a day, sometimes two. The only vice she hasn't been able to satisfy was the sexual frustration that's been pent up inside of her. At this point she might as well be avoiding you because the minute she talks to you, she might just throw you onto her bed and ravage you, the complete opposite of what she feels like she has to do. She's been horny, but hasn't been able to bring herself to take another maid into her chambers. Instead her pent up frustrations have been released in bursts of unbridled anger.

It's not that Alcina really wants to avoid you, to shut you out, to put every feeling she has towards you into a box and never touch it again; she feels like she has to. Not only to protect you, but more for her own protection. She hasn't let herself get close to anyone since she was human, years before she was infected with the cadou and was mutated. The walls she built only got bigger and stronger once she was turned into what she is today, only letting her daughters in once they came to her. You managed to climb over and break down so many of her walls so effortlessly it terrified her, but the companionship was nice and she enjoyed caring for someone other than the girls, plus, she genuinely began to like you.

As soon as she realized how attached she was becoming, she bolted. Between Stefana and Mother Miranda, especially Mother Miranda, coming after you, wanting to cause you harm, she couldn't bear the thought of it. It was as if someone threatened to rip her heart out of her chest, a feeling she was not only completely not used to, but something that made her feel more vulnerable than she's ever experienced before. Every day since she began avoiding you she's had to convince herself that what she's doing is for the best.

After lunch you asked the girls to take you into the library, which Daniela happily agreed to, the other two followed out of obligation to their mother's orders. Daniela enjoyed the same kind of books as you, romance novels for the most part, some fantasy. She also enjoyed thrillers, but after one night of terrible nightmares that were brought on by reading her "It", you both decided it was best if she read those by herself. You began piling a few books you and Daniela picked out on one of the tables while the girls bickered as usual. Once you were satisfied with your selections you went to find the girls to head back to your room.

"Daniela? Bela? Cass?" You call out for them as you walk around the library. "Are you guys still here?"

After walking around for a minute and unable to hear them arguing, or even the buzzing of flies, you call out for them again; searching between the bookshelves in case they were just playing a game.

In one of the chaise lounges near the window you see Alcina laying across it, her head resting on her hand, invested in the book she's reading. Her eyes shift up to you as you come around the shelf.

"Oh, hi, sorry. I didn't know you were here." You nervously say. "I was looking for the girls."

Her gorgeous gold eyes stare into yours for a few moments, you try and see if you can gauge any kind of reaction in them but they're like stone. They shift back down to her book and she continues to read, as if you already walked away, or as if you were never there to begin with.

You feel a pain in your chest when she acts like you don't exist. It's taking all of the self restraint in your body to not break down and grab her face and ask her what you did wrong, begging for forgiveness for something that might not even exist. Instead you settle for asking if she needs anything, anything to make her speak to you.

"Is there anything you need me to do?"

Her eyes leave the page and snap up to yours, an intensity in them that hasn't been directed at you in a while. She closes the book in her hand and stands, you crane your neck and follow her eyes up, desperate for something, anything. Even if she just screamed at you, at least she'll have spoken to you. A lump in your throat grows as she turns and walks away without saying a word.

Closing your eyes in defeat, you stand there for a minute, gathering the strength to keep the tears you feel building at bay. You go back to your search for the girls, a swarm eventually showing up in the middle of the library.

"I'm so sorry!" Daniela cries and wraps her arms around you.

"What? What happened?"

"We left you!"

"It's okay," you laugh "I'm fine, I had a feeling one of you were gonna show up eventually."

Daniela looks at you, she has a small smile on her face but guilt in her eyes.

"Hey, it's okay kiddo, I'm not upset or mad, we're good, no worries." The guilt in her eyes fade and her smile grows. "Want to go read one of these?" You ask, picking up the stack.

"YES!" She squeals.

In a flash there's a swarm of flies surrounding you and lifting you off of the ground.

"Oh my god!" You yell as you laugh.

Daniela flies the both of you to your room at lightening speed, you're surprised and grateful you managed to hold onto the stack of books the whole way there. She sets you down onto your feet and emerges next to you from the swarm.

She picks out one of the books and you read to her until dinner. When the dinner bell rings Daniela whines, not wanting you to put the book down. Reluctantly, she gets up and swarms out and you follow her to the dining room.

The girls appear in their seats in the dining room as you walk in, you see your chair at the opposite end of the table, the same place its been for the last week, and you take your seat.

The maids bring out your meals, you quietly thank the maid who puts your meal down in front of you and you stare at it for a moment. What's the point of having every meal with them every day if she's just going to ignore you? There's a part of you that wants to get up and go back into your room, but you fight against the urge.

The clinking of silverware against the plates pulls you out of your thoughts and you quietly eat, although your hunger is suddenly gone.

"How was your day girls?" Alcina says. You look up and see her looking at her daughters, not even acknowledging your existence.

"Our hunt this morning was a lot of fun!" Bela says.

"Yeah, I killed so many lycans, I even got a deer!"

"Hey! I helped!" Daniela says.

"Yeah, barely."

They begin to argue over the subject and Alcina clears her throat and gives them both a look and they immediately drop it.

"Y/n started reading this really good book to me!" Daniela says with excitement in her voice.

You notice Alcina's face drop a little when she hears your name, you feel your heart drop as you watch. She gently smiles at Daniela, hiding her reaction.

"That's wonderful draga."

Your heart feels like it's in your stomach, you've barely touched your food and Bela notices.

"Do you not like it y/n?" She asks.

"Oh, no" you say, snapping out of your trance. "No it's delicious, I'm just not very hungry."

Your eyes meet Alcinas for a second and she looks away, crushing you even more.

After dinner you head to your room and read for a little while. Your stomach begins to growl and you get up and open your door, hoping to find a maid or one of the girls. Luckily you see a maid walking through the hall with cleaning supplies in her hand.

"Hey, can you do me a favor? Can you get one of the girls for me?" It's well known that you're not allowed to go anywhere by yourself now so the maid nods her head and walks off.

A few minutes later a swarm appears in your room.

"You rang?" You hear Bela say as she emerges from the swarm.

"Yeah, sorry, want to come down to the kitchen with me? I'm starting to get hungry."

"What is with you lately? You seem, weird. You and mom seem weird."

"I'm fine, just an off week I guess." You shrug.

"Okay," she says, unconvinced. "Lets go."

The two of you go into the kitchen and you whip up a quick sandwich and eat it as you both head back to your room. Once you get up the stairs Bela turns to you.

"Do I need to walk the extra 50 feet with you or can you manage not getting killed?" She teases.

"I'll be fine, thanks Bela."

She heads off in the opposite direction as you head towards your room.

As you walk past Alcina's door it opens and you see one of the new maids walk out. Her face is flush, her hair is messy, her legs are shaking and she looks mortified when she sees you. Your heart sinks into the bottom of your stomach, you know what caused the maids disheveled look, you know what just took place in Alcina's chambers. Looking up you see Alcina, who's surprised to see you as she wasn't expecting you to be outside of her door; you think you see shame in her eyes but your vision starts to become blurry as tears filled your eyes. You run into your room and shut the door without saying a word to either of them.

Hot tears flow into your pillow as you curl up in bed and sob. You're heartbroken and mad, mad at Alcina for providing such a false sense of security, mad at yourself for not listening and for getting attached. Zina was right, about everything. She'll make you feel special, but she really doesn't care about you, you're replaceable, disposable to her, just a plaything. A toy to use for her own enjoyment until she gets bored and wants something new to play with.

Unlike Stefana, you're not mad at the maid, you know it's not her fault, you don't even feel the urge to lash out at her. You're more upset at Alcina, not just for making you feel special and ripping it all away from you, but for not even giving you the curtesy of telling you. No warning, nothing. One day she's protecting you, from two different people and nursing you back to health, and the very next day its like you never existed.

Heartbroken, you cry into your pillow until you tire yourself out and finally fall asleep.

With some rare free time, Alcina decides to go to the library and find a new book to read. She picks up a book that peaked her interest and begins to read the first few pages. Immediately drawn in, she abandons her plans to read in her chambers and sits down on the closest thing to her, a chaise lounge in the corner by the window. Noises fill the library, but her attention is glued to the book so she pays them no mind. Her attention wasn't drawn away from her book until she sees something moving in front of her over the edge of her book, she looks up and sees you.

Surprised, she masks her emotions as she looks into your eyes. The knot in her stomach grows, she hears you speak but doesn't respond. Hoping you'll just leave, she turns her attention back to her book, although she can't focus at all with you standing in front of her.

"Is there anything you need me to do?"

Her eyes snap up into yours when she hears your shaking voice, she anticipates seeing fear in your eyes, she's a little taken back when she sees desperation, a deep sadness instead. An internal battle in her mind wages on, part of her just wants to wrap you in her arms and hold you, the other part just wants to pretend you don't exist. Realizing she's staring for too long she closes her book and stands up, there's a small second where she almost gives in to her desire, but she stays steadfast with her plan; she says nothing and walks away.

The look in your eyes haunts her as she makes her way back to her chambers. She tosses the book on her bed and walks up to her vanity and grabs the edge, lowering her head she pushes everything she's feeling back into its box. With her frustration and tension at an all time high she decides to try and provide some relief for herself.

She removes her hat and gloves and makes herself comfortable in her bed. With her eyes closed she pulls up her dress and slides her hand between her legs. After a few minutes of finding absolutely no relief, she gets up and goes into her wardrobe and grabs her favorite toy. This one always seems to do the trick and she's desperately hoping it doesn't fail her. She works the toy in and out of her and her anger only grows; she might as well not be touching herself because that would give her just about the same amount of pleasure that she's getting right now.

More frustrated than ever, she chucks the toy against the wall and lays back down, staring at the ceiling. In her head she goes over a list of maids she can bring into her chambers, every time she tries to picture one in bed with her, they always turn into you. Her frustration reaches its peak and she hears the dinner bell ring. A low growl rumbles in her chest and she gets up, places her hat back on her head, slides her gloves back on and makes her way down to the dining room.

She manages to avoid looking at you for the majority of the meal, focusing her attention on her plate and her girls. It wasn't until Daniela mentioned your name when she felt a sinking feeling in her heart. In an instant she pushes the feeling away, hoping you didn't witness her moment of weakness. Bela mentions that you barely touched your food and she quickly glances at your plate. It hasn't been touched except for one or two bites, you've just been pushing the rest around mindlessly.

Once dinner ends Alcina quickly makes her way back to her chambers. As she's walking through the halls she spots one of her newer maids. A cute, sweet looking girl, she can't be more than 20. Alcina doesn't know her name, and truth be told she doesn't really care to. All she knows is that the girl is quiet and does a decent job on the tasks she's assigned.

Usually when she talks to a maid about coming into her chambers she's flirtatious, mysterious, she likes to toy with the girls for a little bit, but tonight, Alcina doesn't have the patience.

Alcina walks up to the girl, who immediately looks terrified. Bending down to come off as less intimidating, Alcina speaks softly to the girl, but her demeanor doesn't change. If anything, she's more afraid now that the Lady is nearly eye-level with her. If she wasn't so pent up with frustrations Alcina would make a mental note to try and come off as less intimidating, but she's too focused on finding any kind of relief to even think about anything else.

With the girl finally in her chambers, Alcina lays with her on the bed and softly kisses her. It annoys her that the girl doesn't soften up at all, she's stiff as a board with fear, even after Alcina repeatedly tried to ease her fears, it was no use, so she continues anyway. It's not that the maiden was unwilling, Alcina told her she can tell her to stop at any time and she would, whether or not the maid believed her, or was too terrified to speak up was another story. Although if the maids drenched panties were any indication, Alcina had a feeling she was fine with it, probably just terrified that she was going to kill her. The girls soft cries as she came almost made Alcina finish without even being touched. She's never been this desperate before.

Alcina laid next to the maiden on her bed and pulled up her dress and removed her panties and ordered the girl between her legs. Nervous at first, the girl seem scattered, but after some praising and reassuring moans she found her rhythm and within minutes Alcina was cumming all over her face and hand. At the height of her orgasm she thought of you, she almost called out your name but bit down hard on her lip to stop it from slipping out. As she was recovering she looked down at the maiden between her legs and for a fleeting second, was disappointed it wasn't you. It was getting harder and harder to get you out of her head and she wasn't sure if she would be able to take much more of it. She felt as if trying to ignore you so much just made you more irresistible to her, it frustrated her to no end.

The maiden cleaned herself up and Alcina led her to the door for her to leave. Alcina opened the door and froze, there you were, standing right in front of her, walking back to your room. The look in your eyes when you saw the maiden, the way you immediately knew what had just happened almost broke Alcina. She's never felt shame like this before in her life and the guilt practically swallowed her whole. Alcina wasn't even able to hide the look of shame on her face when you looked up at her, the feeling only got worse when she saw the tears building up in your eyes.

She would have been grateful that you ran off if it didn't cause her so much physical pain in her chest seeing you that way. Knowing that she was the cause of your pain, she couldn't even think about it. The maiden stood there frozen, unsure of what to do. Alcina bent down and put her lips to her ear.

"Thank you sweetling." She said, petting her head.

The maiden took that as her cue to leave which Alcina was grateful for because she didn't have the patience or the constitution to keep herself together for much longer.

With the maiden on her way Alcina closed the door and stood there for a moment with her hand against it. She could hear your heartbeat in the room next door, she could hear you quiet sobs as you cried into your pillow. Out of all of the horrific screams and sounds she's heard in her life, hearing you crying, because of what she did to you, was once of the worst sounds she's ever heard. Alcina somberly got herself ready for bed and laid down, pulling the duvet over her. She listened to you cry until your heartbeat finally settled, letting her know that you finally fell asleep.

Alcina can't remember the last time she cried, but for the first time in years, tears escaped from her gold eyes and plummeted onto her pillow.

[portlandwithyou]

A Digital Fangirl's Journey into the Analog World

It started with a search, three words typed into the eBay search bar. Due South zine.

I began my fandom journey online when high-speed internet was slowly rolling out in the United States. I've never known a time in fandom when a million search results weren't at the tips of my fingers, and yet I've been nostalgic for a more physical relationship with fandom. Thankfully, the @ds30below fest announcement had a week devoted to history. The perfect excuse to dive into zines for the first time.

Due Frisky #2 is a digest-sized, soft-cover zine held together with staples. This baby fits perfectly in your hand for reading anywhere. The photo doesn't do it justice, but the cover is a pretty pinky-red color.

Inside, there is a table of contents, an editor's note, the stories, and, at the back, a short advertisement for more zines from the same press. Included at the end of each full-length story is a black-and-white photograph from the show that is connected to the story's content. This is an F/V zine from January of 1997, although nowhere do they address or even mention Ray K. Perhaps issue one dealt with that?

As for the content itself, there are four stories and one poetry cycle. I'd especially like to highlight the first story, "Perfection" by Khylara, which deals with Ray V's Catholicism in such a beautiful way that I was practically jumping with joy as I read. Unfortunately, my searches have not turned up this fic anywhere online to share! It's such a shame, too; it's so thoughtful.

Speaking of which, although I can find some of the authors online, I haven't found any of the particular fics from the zine available. Mireille, who people may know from their other F/V works, has the first part of a multiple-part series in this zine. Now, the editors warn you of this in the editor's notes, but I had forgotten by the time I got to this story, and frankly, I am climbing the walls wondering what happens next!

I found reading this zine extremely satisfying. It was wonderful to have some fanfic to curl up with during a spring storm while being beholden to a supercomputer in my hand.

I also loved reading stories that were contemporary to the show's actual airing. I found the language to be just ever slightly more formal than fanfic nowadays, but in a way that was not distracting or detracting.

Another thing, as the title might imply, all of the stories feature sex and sexuality as a topic. Obviously, given my track record, that doesn't bother me. But I could see where that would turn some off from reading. There's drama, fluff, and plenty of other emotions throughout the pieces, but at the end of the day, they will be having sex.

Overall, this was a fantastic zine for a beginner. Every piece was wonderful, and I anticipate reading it again many times.

[pretending-ican-write]

Cowboy Up - Pt.7

Here we are! Finally into the series itself. Cowboy Up will be a combination of me inserting the reader into scenes from the show and putting together some scenes myself that I imagine happen around what is seen on screen.

Disclaimer that I am not a horse trainer or qualified in any way but I've spent a good part of my life around them so my experience is the basis for anything in the fic about horses.

Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!reader

WC: 1121

Previous part - Next part

---

John Dutton stopped his truck in front of the round pen where Kayce was working a horse and got out to watch his son work.  He was confused to see that his youngest daughter’s truck was parked in front of the house.  He knew that she had the day off from the ranch but John wasn’t aware that she had been visiting her brother all those years.

From inside the house, y/n was on the sofa keeping an eye out the window where her twin and father were having a tense conversation that she assumed was about the cattle that had ended up on the reservation.  Monica was next to her watching her son play on the floor in front of them.

“I know he’s my father and all but I worry about what might happen if Tate ever goes to the ranch,” y/n admitted, “it’s the most beautiful place in the world if you ask me but god does it come with conditions.

Her sister-in-law nodded, “John Dutton isn’t exactly synonymous with good news.”

They lapsed into a quiet conversation about how life had been for them both over the last few months since she’d been able to get out to the reservation, Monica smiling widely when y/n confirmed Ryan had finally made his move the other month.

Once John had driven off, the women exited the house behind Tate who ran excitedly towards the rifle John had left propped against the round pen.  Y/n leant against the fence next to Monica watching the horse come to a stop.

“I don’t trust him trying to be in Tate’s life,” she admitted to her brother, “you’ve spent all these years out of his grip.  I’d hate for dad to use him as a way back in after not being around.”

Kayce sighed, “we can only see.”

-/-/-

The next morning, y/n was in the barn mucking out the stalls whilst the other hands worked around her and in the corral.  Cleaning the stalls was normally considered the job of low man, but she found some sort of enjoyment in the mundanity of the task. 

As she finished the last stall, y/n wheeled the barrow out the front of the barn and was surprised to see her sister’s black Mercedes rolling down the drive.  She dropped the handles and watched as the car went past, Beth looking at the window to make eye contact with her younger sister before continuing on to the main house.  After emptying the wheelbarrow, she re-entered the barn with her mood notably dampened by the return of Beth.  Y/n headed down the aisle to the last stall where a blue dun colt was pacing the space.  She took him out to the round pen to assess the problem’s Rip had complained about the horse having.

The colt danced at the end of the rope whilst she closed the gate and when she undid the halter, he shot off around the pen as if afraid to be anywhere near a person.  Y/n sat on the fence, patiently watching the horse work his anxiety out with a cigarette smoking between her lips.  Ryan led his horse across from the corral and leant on the fence next to her.

“He’s got a hell of an opinion in him,” he commented.

Y/n shook her head, “not an opinion Ry.  Nerves.  Poor boy is a ball of anxiety, doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or trust.”

“How you gonna sort that out then?  Can’t wear it out of him,” Ryan asked.

She watched the colt slow to a trot, “gotta show him that he can trust us and to trust in his own decisions.  Shouldn’t take too long.”

“It’s a nice shirt you’re wearing sweetheart,” Ryan smirked, referring to the blue check shirt of his she had on.

Y/n laughed, “well my boyfriend left it lying around and I was cold so figured he wouldn’t mind.”

“He doesn’t mind at all, not one bit.  In fact I think he quite likes seeing his girlfriend wear his clothes,” he mused, running his finger up her arm, “you not going to the house to see your sister?”

She sighed, “me and Beth aren’t exactly what you would call close.  She does what dad says without question, never said shit when he did what he did to Kayce and it ain’t like she was begging me to stay.  To top it off she treats Rip like shit and the bastard just lets her walk all over him because he’s been in love with her since he was 16.”

“Being in love with someone for a long time sounds familiar,” he teased 

Y/n leant back against his arm, “difference is we were both pining.  She fucks around with his feelings every chance she gets and he’ll never go against her.”

-/-/-

Sat on Comanche, y/n watched as her brothers reunited for the first time in years and laughed as they teased each other as if they’d never been apart.  She smiled at how comfortable Tate looked on his grandfather’s horse and, as much as the sisters fought, she was reassured that Beth had her twin’s back like her.  

“Kayce let’s go,” she called across to him, “grab a horse.”

Part of her soul felt like it was healing watching how her father was with Tate and being back on the plains with all of her brothers.  Beth hadn’t been on a horse since their mother’s death but y/n had spent days of her childhood riding with the cattle alongside her brothers, racing each other despite the annoyance of John.  As Lee and Kayce raced around the herd of buffalo, y/n rode up to where Jamie was talking to their father.

“Kayce might be the only man who can outride him,” her brother observed.

She smiled, “only man but sure as hell not the only person.”

With a click to Comanche, y/n took off galloping after her brothers.  The three of them took turns pulling ahead of the others but ultimately it would have been too close to decide a winner.  Although we all know that in a straight line race y/n had the advantage, what with being a barrel racer and all.

“You joining us to fish?” Lee asked when they finally came to a halt.

Y/n shook her head, “I’m not the one who has years to regain with him Lee.  I’ll let you have your boys day out.  I’m gonna head back with the rest and do some more work with that colt."

[prolix-yuy]

Hello friends! It's been way way way way WAY too long since we chatted, and to be honest I've been taking an embarrassingly long time to write this update post because godDAMN life just gets you sometimes and you go on an impromptu hiatus that gets super messy. So let's get into what's been going on and what to look forward to!

Pedro Tax for this long-ass post.

(We're gonna get into some personal stuff, but if you're just here for what's coming up skip down to WHAT'S NEXT for the tl;dr version)

So beyond work getting hectic from January to March, which was the catalyst for everything getting wacky, I experienced a weird emotional turn that I wasn't expecting. It made me get a little introspective, which I blame some of my productivity slump on.

As I was finishing up the Bangathon entries, I noticed a sharp decline in interaction. I'm a fairly young fic writer on Tumblr, but I was a little baffled as to why stories I'd posted only a week before got a nice bit of interaction yet the newer ones were only getting half to a quarter of what I expected. For a minute I thought I had been shadowbanned (I was not) or I hadn't tagged the posts (I had) or my taglists weren't working (they were). People were already talking about interaction being lower, so I sat back and tried to go with the flow and not let it bother me. I posted Decoherence, which has a more niche audience, but I was definitely missing and wishing for some of the comments and reblogs I thought I might get.

All this led up to one of the least favorite voices in my head saying something that stuck around:

"Well, you were right not to become a writer if your motivation is this closely tied to feedback."

If you're new here or I haven't talked about it much recently, I initially was planning to be a writer. Went to school for it and everything. While I was there I felt like I hadn't found the stories I wanted to tell yet. My colleagues were developing in their niches and writing "the great American novel" and I didn't feel like I fit in. My stories had a lukewarm reception, and I never felt like anyone was excited about anything I was trying to say. So I wrote myself into burnout by the time I graduated with not much to show for it. I ended up doing a career switch, which I love to this day, but I stopped writing for almost 10 years.

Coming to Tumblr, I felt that spark of excitement writing again, and some of that was definitely due to people commenting and being excited or interested in the stories I was sharing. That truly revived something in me I thought was long gone, and reflecting back on the last two years that I've been sharing stories with this community makes me wildly emotional. I didn't know how much I missed of the life I left behind, and how much joy it brought me to share stories again.

Which is why it was SUPREMELY FRUSTRATING to have that shitty little voice pulverize my productivity and excitement over something as silly as interaction. But I'm sure most of you know how hard it is to get that voice out of your head. I worked to write things I found fun and less stressful than the series I already felt bad for not updating. And while I still love those stories, it felt like I was pulling them from an inauthentic place and finishing them wasn't as satisfying as I'd hoped.

Thus the hiatus! I stopped writing and turned my attentions to consuming and creating in other ways. I watched some shows I'd been meaning to catch up on, started planning to buy a house, worked my butt off at the day job. And I was starting to feel like inspiration was coming back. I didn't want to spook it so I took my time and promised myself I was going to start small and not stress about getting stories out for a bit.

Top that off with some medical surprises, an upcoming surgery, and a little re-evaluation of life moving forward and things have been wild. But I've been missing the daily joy I get from being part of this fandom, and I'm getting back into being here more because I miss you guys! AND! I have stories I want to share and fun to be had. So let's shake off all the heavy shit and get to the fun stuff!

WHAT'S NEXT!

The big thing I'm getting ready to post (after teasing it for so long) is the 2024 Bangathon! This one is different from last year's because instead of requesting stories from me, the Bangathon is open to anyone who wants to participate! There will be a randomizer to play with, and some fun bonuses for those who participate. The announcement will be coming out soon, stay tuned!

As for fics, here are some updates on what's in my WIPs:

Series:

I Think of You: I spent some time rewatching Mando for the newest installment, and I've finally gotten the thread of where to go next thought out. It's been a long time coming so this one's gonna be BEEFY to make up for it.

SW!Frankie: I am crushed to realize it's been over a year since I posted any SW!Frankie! I've got a new story about him and Ms J moving in together I need to finish, then some more asks that are getting into new story arcs I'm excited to share!

Best Laid Plans: Dieter and Murch's first date is bouncing around in my head and I NEED to get it on paper. There's much fun to be had, and I've been binge listening to my playlist for them to get into the headspace.

Midnight Alley: I got all up in my own head about continuing the story with these two and lost a little steam, so I'm going to ease off my "big plans" and start smaller with some oneshots instead. I think it'll help me find out where I want this story to go.

One Shots in Progress:

Decoherence Follow-Up

Incubus!Dieter Ask

You know, laying it out like that makes it feel much more manageable than my brain was telling me! I'm also planning to prioritize more fic reading while I'm getting these updates in ship-shape. Reading your stories always helps get my creative juices flowing, and there are so many good ones lingering in my TBR list that I need to devour.

This has been a rollercoaster of emotions, so thank you for coming on the ride with me. I'm excited to bring more of myself back to Tumblr and have fun with all of you again! To many more stories!

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. iv

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter | photo cred

chapter summary: This time, it's different. He’s not here to help you fix something, or to drag Sarah home, or pick up something she’s left behind. At this point he’s stopped lying to himself – Joel’s here to see you.  pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 5.6k chapter warnings: some angst, marijuana use, suggestive thoughts and actions (but no smut -- as always, dm if you want specifics), divorce mention. a/n: The next few weeks of my life will be insane (and NOT just because succession is coming back). I want to keep updating this, but something's gotta give, because the way I've been writing is not sustainable unfortunately. So updates may end up being shorter and the fic having more parts, or updates might be less frequent with longer parts. Also, a question for my loyal readers: Do you make your shirley temples with ginger ale or with Sprite/7up? Because I came from a sprite/7UP family but once i discovered ginger ale instead i was HOOKED. So i am a Ginger Ale Shirley Temple Truther.

-May 5, 2003-

Please pick up, please pick up, you cross your arms in front of you, looking over your shoulder. The pointed toe of your heels clacks against the asphalt as you tap it repeatedly, a steady beat. You have no reason to be so nervous, right now. It must have something to do with who you are calling, not just why. 

“Hello?” the droning ring is interrupted by a voice that sounds skeptical, they don’t recognize your number.

“Joel?” you ask.

“Hey, you,” his tone evens out when he hears you say his name. He had given you his cell phone number a few weeks back, the night he’d caught you smoking on your back porch. In case I’m not home and something’s goin’ on with Sarah, he’d said. It made sense, though all it did was tempt you to call him many times before this, and not about Sarah. You were worried because…maybe this was out of line.

There’s noises in the background that threaten to drown Joel out – saws and various power tools whirring, a jackhammer, men calling out to each other. It’s loud. At your job, you close the door to your office if someone is typing too loud on their keyboard. “I uh- I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

You hear a door shut in response, and the noise fades to a low purr. “Not at all. Everything okay? Sarah alright?”

“Yeah, this isn’t about her, though. I hope that’s okay.”

“It depends,” In your mind, right now he’s leaning against a messy metal desk, one of his hands planted on its surface to keep himself stable, the muscles in his forearm flexing under tension. He’s got a toolbelt slung low over the waistband of his Carhartt’s. He’s a little sweaty – it’s hot out, today – his cheeks flushed, pieces of dark hair clinging to his forehead. The image is doing something for you, and you have to take a deep, measured breath to reset before you can answer him.

“Do you…know anything about cars?” you ask. 

“A little….why?”

“I took my car to get serviced, and…I’m pretty sure I’m about to be swindled.” You hesitate, then qualify. “I didn’t have anyone else to call, and…you seem like you might be good with this sort of thing.”

There are a lot of things you know a lot about, and cars are just not one of them. From your perspective, a car is simply a means to get from Point A to Point B, and the less you know about the how, the better. Although your complete lack of understanding definitely doesn’t help you in your current situation. You’d considered calling your brother, and even your father – but you knew they’d be no help, having lived in Manhattan their whole lives. 

Bradley had a nice car, but you suspected it was more for his image, and less because he knew anything about them. Plus, you didn’t really ask for much of each other outside of sex – and if you started too, it might initiate another talk about where you ‘see him in your future’, and the thought alone is grating, because you don’t. 

Since you moved away from home, you’ve spent a lot of time asserting to yourself that you’re completely independent. But moments like this remind you that it’s not entirely true…it’s not possible to be on your own in the way you want, and you always end up needing someone. 

“I might be able to help.” Joel sounds unconcerned. “What’s goin’ on?”

“They just told me my car needs a new battery, and I need new tires.”

“How old are they?”

“I don’t know like-” your phone vibrates furiously in your hand, an incoming call from your coworker. “Oh my god, leave me alone,” you groan out loud. “-Not you, Joel, sorry. I stepped away for lunch and…you know how it goes. Anyways, I don’t think I’ve gotten either of them changed since I got my car.”

“How old is your car?”

“Seven years.”

“Good lord,” Joel mutters, and he sounds somewhat disappointed. “Yeah, you should get both those things.”

“They weren’t lying? It’s gonna cost a couple hundred bucks.”

“No, I doubt they were,” he gives a warm chuckle, and it melts away some of your stress, even if your wallet is about to take a considerable hit. “Where’d you take your car?”

“I don’t know, just…some place around the corner from where I work.”

“In the future, you should go to Robert’s place in town. He’s done some work on my truck. Probably will cost a lot less.”

“Noted,” you nod. “Thanks so much, sorry for catching you at work.”

“Not at all, I don’t mind…” Joe answers. “Shipments keep getting delayed, so…it’s been kind of a slow day.”

“I’m jealous,” you say. “Because I swear, lately, whenever I leave the office for more than two minutes everything explodes….or at least it feels that way.”

“Sounds like you’re important,” Joel says, you can hear his smile over the phone, see it, practically. 

Scoffing, you answer. “Hardly. But uh, thanks again. I definitely owe you one.”

You expect him to say goodbye, so you’re surprised by what he asks next. “What are you doing Friday?” 

“I don’t know. What are you doing Friday?”

“I’m assumin’ Sarah’s probably left something at your place….if you’re gonna be around, I might stop by to get it….”

“You want me to smoke you up?” 

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you meant,” You’re direct.

“Look, I’m just sayin’ if it happens, I wouldn’t be mad.”

“I already told you, you’re welcome anytime,” you say. “But won’t Sarah-oh wait, no, she has that school dance, doesn’t she?”

Sarah had taken to writing important events in her life on the calendar that hung on your fridge. It was usually blank, you were good enough at remembering your own plans without utilizing it. But she had told you the empty calendar made her sad, so now it was filled with her doodles and notes, scribbled with blue glitter gel pen. And Friday night’s event she’d underlined three times.

“She does,” Joel answers, seemingly amused. 

Another call comes through on your phone. “Okay, yeah, I gotta go. But I’ll be around Friday.”

“Then maybe I’ll stop by,” Joel says, and you ignore the flash of heat through your abdomen – excitement – at the idea of him coming over.  “Have a good rest of your day.”

“You too.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-May 9, 2003-

Joel arrives at your place before the sun sets, once again. But this time, it is different. He’s not here to help you fix something, or to drag Sarah home, or pick up something she’s left behind. Of course, he’s got his excuse, but really, at this point he’s stopped lying to himself – he’s here to see you. 

“Well, well, well…” you open the screen door, lean against the doorframe, and cross your arms over your chest. “If it isn’t the neighborhood space cowboy.”

“You’re one to talk.” 

You squint at him, but the way the corner of your mouth quirks gives you away. “Touche.” 

God, he’s already regretting this. Maybe he shouldn’t be here. But it’s become increasingly difficult to resist you, and that’s assuming that you’re even interested. He’s all-but kissed you and he’s still not quite sure where he stands. You’re not easy to read, but he has always enjoyed a challenge. At the end of the day it’s never a bad idea for him to brush up on his flirting, Tommy’s words from a few weeks ago have been getting to him. For much as he believes it’s bound to happen, Joel doesn’t want to end up alone.

“Come on in,” you push yourself off the doorframe and lead him through your house.

The last time he’d been here you’d been wearing some long-sleeved, satin pajama set. He remembered because he spent all night trying not to touch the fabric, though maybe he was just looking for an excuse to touch you. Tonight, with your back turned towards him, his eyes wander down to the curve of your ass in your low-rise, bootcut jeans. He feels the slightest bit of shame about doing it, before deciding that what you can’t see won’t hurt you.

“How was the mechanic?” he asks once you’ve entered the back porch.

“Oh fine,” you say, sitting down on the couch, gesturing to the spot across from you. “I’m just pissed I had to spend a bunch of money on a car battery and not something more…fun.”

“It’s a good thing you did,” Joel sits. “Honestly, I’m surprised you called me from the mechanic and not from a ditch on the side of the road.”

“This is my first car, Joel. I grew up in a walkable community,” you pick up an already-rolled joint, the faintest acknowledgement that you’d planned for this ahead of time – and lift it to your lips. 

“It’s okay, I’m teasing.” Joel assures, and lets his gaze linger while you smoke, just admiring, as he often does. When you pass the joint over to him, he speaks again. “I have to be good tonight, cause Sarah’s gonna be home in a couple hours.”

“Yeah, first school dance, big deal,” you raise your eyebrows. “Help me out, because I went to an all-girls school. It’s middle school. Do kids go with dates?”

Joel shakes his head. “Not that I know of. Sarah just went with a group of friends.” 

“That makes sense,” you nod. “Speaking of, I have to be good, too. I’m going to her soccer game tomorrow.”

Joel feels his brows knit together in confusion, and it causes you to continue on. “She keeps asking me to come to one, and I haven’t been able to, so I feel bad. I guess her season’s almost over.” 

“Tomorrow’s her last game…” Joel mutters, looking up towards the ceiling, where the smoke is collecting, and exhales. “But you know you don’t have to do that.”

“Obviously, but…” you shrug. “...I want to.”

He chuckles to himself, runs a hand through his hair, which is still damp from the shower he took before this. “You’re really prepared to put yourself through a middle school soccer game…” 

“Look, Joel,” Your eyes are half-lidded, focused on him, and your arm is slung over the back of the couch, fist supporting your temple. “In case you couldn’t tell…I’m doing this thing where I try to engage in the community I live in. But so far, your family members are the only ones who’ve included me in anything, so until I find someone else….” you trail off. “You’re stuck with me.”

Joel doesn’t want you to find someone else. Being stuck with you is hardly a problem. He wants to tell you, but instead, all he manages is: “We’ll be good tonight.” Still, he’s not entirely convinced that he can trust himself to make a promise like that. 

It’s a tad too early for the sun to be setting, but it’s early in May, so the weather is perfect, and he’s sort of itching to be outside. Maybe there’s something to be done before the light wanes. “Do you want to go for a walk?” he asks you.

You seem taken aback by his request, wrinkling your nose.”….I don’t know.”

“It’s a nice night, you might enjoy yourself. And we’re in good company.” 

The grimace on your face disappears, and is replaced by something more amiable. “We are,” you tilt your, make a decision. “Yeah, okay…let’s do it.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Once you’ve locked your front door, closed your windows, Joel walks side-by-side with you down your driveway. You only make it about halfway down when you’re both interrupted by the sound of someone calling out your name, then his. 

Your next-door neighbor, Denise Watson, leans over the railing of her front porch, while her husband John sits in a chair behind her, giving a lazy wave and returning back to his puzzlebook. Joel nods at him, and notices the color has drained out of your face. The Watsons have lived on this street since before even Joel and Sarah moved in. They’re in their late 60s, retired, all their children grown – which gives them plenty of time to get into everyone’s business. 

“Hey,” you offer the most unenthusiastic greeting he thinks he’s ever heard. You’re paranoid, and he’d laugh if it were just the two of you, alone. But it’s not, and he knows these just so happen to be neighbors you’ve been lying to.

“How are you doing, hun?” 

“I’m good,” you say softly, and Joel watches Denise’s eyes flick over his direction. 

“Same here,” he manages. 

“What are you ya’ll up to?”

“We’re just goin’ for a walk,” Joel answers, looking your way. You nod at him, wordlessly, then at Denise. 

“How lovely.” She smiles, and it’s sincere, so he knows she doesn’t suspect anything. “It’s nice to see you two getting along so well.” Even from where he’s standing, Joel sees her eyebrows lift suggestively.

You and Joel both answer the insinuation at the same time.

“Yeah, well-” 

“She looks after Sarah for me, so-”

You bob your head enthusiastically. “Mhm, yeah. Sarah. Great kid.”

Denise opens her mouth again, and you speak so quickly, Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you’re afraid of what she’s going to say next. “We gotta go,” you shuffle backwards a few steps, quickly, and collide with Joel’s chest. “Before it gets dark out,” when you turn, you’re looking up at him with wide, terrified eyes. 

“Oh, alright,” Denise says, sounding a little disappointed. “Ya’ll stay safe, alright?”

“Of course,” Joel calls over his shoulder, managing a halfhearted wave before he’s trailing you around the bend in the cul-de-sac that takes you out of view from The Watsons porch.

The second you’ve made it you whirl to face him, your jaw drops, and you both erupt into laughter. You grip his bicep and lean into him, pressing your face into the cotton of his t-shirt to stifle the noise. He’s tempted to pull you under his arm all the way, but he resists the urge. Would that be okay? He’s not sure. And he’s not necessarily in the best headspace to make the decision.

“Oh my god,” you murmur, swiping under your eyes as you pull back, and start walking a few steps ahead of him. 

“It’s like I’m back in high school,” Joel says. Neither of you decide to mention what your neighbor had insinuated, but it is objectively funny. 

“Oh, I’m sure you were trouble.”

“Not as much as you’d think,” Joel says. “Although I did sneak out quite a bit. But it was only to see girls – well, one girl.” 

“Sarah’s mom?” you ask. 

“Yeah.” Joel isn’t sure why he’s mentioned it. It’s not really something he’s interested in speaking on now – or ever – for that matter, even if every person he’s mentioned it to has questions. What happened? What did you do? You poor thing. Above all else, he hated being pitied. 

But you don’t press him, and change the subject. “So…a few weeks ago you had said you and Tommy had a work project you were gonna book. Did that pan out?”

Joel cocks his head, surprised you remembered. “Actually, it did. Funny you ask. Things moved slow but…we signed the contract today. I’m sort of celebrating.”

“Congratulations,” you look over your shoulder slightly to give him a genuine grin. “But uh…you should’ve told me. Had I known we were celebrating, I would’ve tried to make things more exciting.” 

“Can’t think of anything better.”

You pause, because you’ve reached the end of your cul-de-sac. “Suit yourself.” you say. “Are you gonna lead though? I don’t know where we’re going.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point.” Joel expects some kind of quip in response, but you just shake your head and narrow your eyes. Tucking your hair behind your ears, he senses a bit of uneasiness. “You alright?”

“I’m fine I just…” you shake your head. “I don’t love being stoned in public.”

“You’re alright.” Joel puts his hand between your shoulder blades, guiding you to fall into step beside him. “Come on, darlin’, just walk with me.” It’s terrible how easily the term of endearment slips out – and he waits for your reaction. But all he feels is the way your body loosens under his touch. 

That brings him some satisfaction, but as usual, it’s not enough. Because if you’re not going to stop him, he longs to push the hair off your neck, kiss along your pulse point, feel you melt even further as his thumbs work at the muscles in your shoulders. Joel fantasizes about what his name might sound like, coming from you, in a breathless sigh. The image works him up a little too much, and he lets his hand fall back to his side.

For a while, you both walk in silence, your fingers brushing against his every so often, but neither of you acknowledge it, apologize, or decide to step further away from each other to keep it from happening again and again.

It’s a beautiful night, the warmth of the day dwindling under the blanket of thinning clouds tinted pink in the sunset. Joel is amazed at how content he feels, can’t remember the last time he’s felt this way – not worried about someone, or something, or letting anyone down. 

It’s May, so almost all the native flowers are in full bloom. Tulips planted in gardens, pansies overflowing from pots on porches, dandelions dotting pristine green lawns. Stepping away from Joel, you pause in front of an empty, overgrown lot that’s basically turned into a wildflower patch. 

“This is nice,” you say, decidedly. “It’s pretty.” 

“I told you.”

Once more, he expects some clever retort, but your eyebrows are pinched together, and you crouch to look closely at some bluebonnets that are the same color as the tight-fitting henley you’ve got on. “I know you mentioned it back there but… Sarah’s told me…about her mom.”

Joel feels himself stiffen. “Yeah….well, she never really got to know her.” 

When he’s feeling particularly remorseful, his brain replays a memory of Sarah, only four years old, toddling around the tiny apartment they lived in and calling out for her mother. His ex had left when she was so young, so he had known there was no way Sarah actually remembered her. But all her classmates had two parents, all the movies she watched at home depicted loving, complete families. That night, after tucking her in, he’d retreated to his room, and cried for the first time since his divorce. Ever since then, it was impossible to shake the feeling he wouldn’t be enough.

Sometimes, he felt better about it then others. Sarah grew out of that phase, and Joel thought that’d be the last of it. When he finally bought the house, he felt like he’d proven he could do it alone. They would be fine. That was until Joel found an old photo of him and his ex underneath Sarah’s pillow while he was changing her sheets. The discovery left him with the same feeling all over again. 

Now, in the wake of the excitement that he’s signed onto his first real contracting gig, a promotion, a raise – this information from you deflates him all over again. 

“You don’t like to talk about it?” you guess correctly. 

“Not particularly.” Normally, Joel would shut something like this down. But he can’t bring himself to be cruel to you. “We were young. What happened was for the best. I wish Sarah understood that.”

“You don’t give her enough credit. She’s a bright kid,” you answer, standing up and putting your hands on your hips. “Anyways, I get it. When you cut yourself off from a bad situation, it's hard. The alternative is worse, though. People forget that part.”

Joel feels a little reassured by what you’re saying. Why he immediately went on the defense when you brought it up, he’ll explore later. “I wish more people understood,” he murmurs. 

“Me too,” you nod, and you nudge him gently to keep walking. “And people process things differently. It makes sense she's curious. It’s a very human thing.” 

“I know.” What was it that you had said a few weeks back? They’re always with you, no matter what. That’s not a sentiment Joel can completely wrap his head around yet. “It does make me think sometimes…maybe she needs some else….someone who isn't…me.””

“Oh, come on, Joel,” you halt in your tracks, almost like he’s offended you in some way. You look up at him from under your eyelashes. “You’re a good man.”

Validation. He doesn’t get it often – ever, really. And he doesn’t need it, but….coming from you, he feels like he just wants more. And more. He can think of a few ways he might get it, too. Some less innocent than others. 

“Should we turn around?” he asks. You nod. 

There’s a bit of light still remaining in the sky by the time you round the corner to Joel’s street, but the sun has set long ago. He’s probably supposed to say goodbye, standing at the end of your respective driveways, but he finds that end to the evening rather disappointing. 

“You know what I can’t stop thinking about right now?” you ask, Joel. He’s a little hesitant to answer, based on the ornery glint in your eyes. All he has to do is raise his eyebrows, and you continue. “A shirley temple.”

Joel can’t help but laugh, and he sees how you light up at the sound. “You serious?” he asks. 

“I know they’re….for kids, but…I don’t know. They’re really fucking good.”

“They are,” he answers, and you’re at the end of your driveway. He hesitates for a second, thinks you might say goodbye, but you just check over your shoulder to make sure he’s following you. He does. 

“This is probably the weed talking, but I’m going to make some.” You unlock your front door, and he holds it open to let you step inside, before following. 

“You have the stuff to make them?” he questions. 

Yes, you bob your head, then walk to the corner of your front room and flick on a light. Warm light floods the room, and you walk through the archway into your kitchen. When he follows you there, your back is towards him, opening a glass-doored cabinet containing various liquor bottles, wines, cordials, and accoutrements. 

“You want one? I have to say, I’ve been making them a lot lately, and I think I’ve perfected the recipe.”

“Well in that case, I’ve gotta try,” Joel wanders to your small kitchen table, about a quarter of it covered in neat piles of paperwork. There’s a messenger bag slung over the back of a chair, and in front of it is there’s a thick contract. The page it’s opened to is riddled with blue ink, crossing through sentences, scribbled in the paper’s margins. He can’t make out any of the jargon in the fine print. Next to it sits a pair of thin black reading glasses, and a sleek fountain pen engraved with your name. 

His eyes fall next to a stack of old photographs sitting atop an opened envelope. With two fingers, he pushes the top photo off the stack, once, twice, three times, until he gets to the bottom of the pile, and they’re spread out in front of him. Maybe he shouldn’t be snooping like this, but his curiosity is getting the best of him. 

Joel doesn’t recognize the people in most of the photos. One of them is a school photo of a young boy, with Spring ‘03 printed in the lower right hand corner. But the remaining two…he realizes are of you, but you’re young, your cheeks rounder, features not quite as defined. Younger than Sarah, if he had to guess. In both, you’re wearing the same thing – a black turtleneck, a plaid skirt that hangs past your knees, and black Mary Janes. 

In one, you’re cheek to cheek with a teenage boy who you’re giving bunny ears. Your brother. Has to be. You look too similar. His arm is across your shoulders, and you’re smiling so wide your eyes are closed. 

In the other photo, though, your face is blank. A wide, empty stare, straight into the camera. Behind you, his hands on your shoulders, is an older man whose gaze has the same determined set Joel has seen on you before. Something about the photo, the haunted look on your face, makes him feel like he’s seen something he’s not supposed to, and he slides the print underneath a stack of papers.

“If you’re gonna look at those papers, I’m gonna need you to sign an NDA,” you say over his shoulder, and Joel is startled by the sound of your voice, and the feeling of a glass, cold and damp with condensation, being placed in his hand. “Here.”

You peer around his shoulder, face brushing against the side of his arm as you see the photos. “Oh,” your voice drops slightly when you realize what he’s looking at. “My brother sent those. That’s my nephew, Ethan.” You point to the school photo of the little kid, but don’t offer an explanation for any of the others. 

Joel clinks his glass with yours and notices that you’ve balanced a toothpick with two maraschino cherries on its rim. It’s refreshing, delicious, and the fizz tickles his nose as he takes the first sip. 

“Restaurant quality,” he tells you. You lean back against your counter, studying him. When you stare at him like this, as he’s caught you doing a handful of times before, it always makes him feel feral. Like some kind of animal, the way he has to hold himself back from pouncing. You look at him like there’s no one else around, and yeah, there’s no one else around right now, but even when you’re in public, you’ve done it, too. And he doesn’t know how to tell you to stop – he doesn’t really want to. “How’d you perfect the recipe?” he asks. 

“Practice,” you glance at the bubbles dancing through the ice in your glass before focusing back on him, sheepish. “Sarah likes them.”

So you’ve made them for her. Joel sits his drink down. “She does.” 

“Are you hungry?” you ask. “I think I need a snack or something.”

“You don’t have any ice cream, do you?”

“Uhhh…check the freezer?” you say over your shoulder, rummaging through your cabinets for a bowl, and Joel rises to do so. “I think I only have coffee-flavored, though.”

“Good choice,” he answers. His favorite.When he opens the freezer, he’s met with a blast of cool air, a cloud of steam. 

“You have a sweet tooth, don’t you?” you tease, coming to stand next to him, but Joel is too focused on the box of orange popsicles he sees in front of him, and pulls them out to look at the box. “You like these?”

“Not really. I’m partial to cherry.”

“Sarah loves these,” he remarks. 

“Yeah.” 

“I don’t buy them for her anymore, because one time she ate twelve in one day.”

You sniff, grin. “She told me that.”

He studies the drink that you’ve set on your countertop, the box in his hand. “So you bought these for her?”

“Yeah, why?” you cross your arms, almost defensively.

“Are any of the other snacks here just for her?”

“...No,” he can tell you’re lying, and your eyes flick over his shoulder for a second. “Don’t look in that cabinet, though.” 

Joel can’t help the incredulous smile that breaks out over his face. “God, no wonder she’s always over here so much. You’re givin’ her all the junk I don’t let her eat, aren’t you?”

You hold your hands up. “I think she deserves to be comfortable here. Do you want her to starve?”

Joel’s sure he’s staring at you slack-jawed. Not because he’s upset with you, no. It’s quite the opposite. He shakes his head, grins, and starts laughing.

“Don’t laugh at me,” but you’re giggling, too. “It’s not funny.” You reach to swat at him playfully, and something inside him snaps. 

Joel is sick of coming up with excuses to see you. He’s sick of holding you at arms length. He’s sick of not taking what he wants to. He’s sick of pretending he hasn’t thought about you every single day since he first saw you, standing in this very kitchen, leaning over the island and chatting with Sarah. He wants to walk in your front door and know that he can have you however he likes, that he’s allowed to. He realizes if he doesn’t act, he’ll never find out. It’ll eat him alive.

So before you can make contact, he wraps his hand around your wrist, draws you in closer. It catches you off guard, sure, but your eyes are locked, and he sees that you’re not shaken in the slightest.

“You know,” he says. “You’re nicer than you think.” 

The energy in the room has shifted. But it doesn’t seem to phase you, and when he’s this close, he can study every freckle on your face, the color of your eyes – can remind himself, again, though he hardly has to – just how beautiful you are. You lower your arm, and at first – he panics, thinks that you might be pulling away. He’s read it wrong, all wrong. But all your doing is giving yourself a better angle to grip his wrist in kind, hand clasping over his broken watch.

“Keep it to yourself, Joel.” you whisper. And it's supposed to be a joke, but you can't seem to tear your gaze off his lips. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“I will.” 

Joel kisses you. Hard. It’s like a dam breaking, every time he’s held himself back from you comes barreling forward, and it’s all right there. Everywhere. Overwhelming. But he can't stop. He moves with purpose, cupping your chin. He winds his other arm around your waist, crushing you against him. You taste sweeter than he’d imagined, cherry-flavored syrup lingering on your lips. You groan against him, your head tilting back as he moves in closer, jaw relaxing, lips parting.

It’s just enough for him to slip his tongue inside your mouth, to continue to explore, to claim. The things he’s going to do to you…It could be the weed, but every nerve in his body is on high alert – his skin scorches in the wake of your hands raking up his biceps, tangling in his unruly waves. It could be the weed, or it could just be that good.

More, he wants more, and he’s crowding you back towards the counter next to the fridge. Somewhere, distantly, he hears the freezer door fall closed – and probably not all the way – the ice cream long since forgotten. The moment your back hits the granite, you pull away with a ragged inhale, only enough to look him in the eyes.

“Took you long enough,” One of your hands rises to his face.

Joel presses his cheek into the warmth of your palm. “I thought it might be better to keep you waiting.”

You only shake your head, pulling him back into the kiss. He shifts his weight to hook his hands behind your knees and lift you onto the counter. It’s a bit overzealous, and your head bumps the cabinet behind you, but you don’t seem to notice. Both your legs hook around his hips, drawing him in further. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on just from kissing someone – not even for that long – but it’s just so fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot. 

But, he’s capable of one rational thought. This can’t be how it happens. You’re worth more than an animalistic fuck on a kitchen countertop. There’s so much more he wants to do that can’t be done here, like this. And…it’s you. You deserve better, although the frustrated noise you let out when he draws back indicates you think the opposite. Another time.

“I’m sor-I-we can’t,” Joel manages. 

Your face drops, you look….almost angry at him. The second he sees it, he realizes what he said was all wrong. “No, I mean we can, we can, just not….not now.”

The anger dissipates, you shift back, but reach out, pushing a piece of stray hair off his forehead and running your thumb along his sharp jawline. “Why not?”

“I just…I didn’t-” he shakes his head and looks down. “I’ve wanted this for awhile now, but….this isn’t…I wasn’t expecting-” Fucking spit it out, you dipshit. “Can I take you out or something first?” 

You don’t answer, just shift forward, your forehead bumping into his chest. Joel he brings his arms around your shoulders despite himself. And then your lips are on his neck, teeth scraping, teasing, working up to his ear, where you whisper. “You don’t have to.”

He fucking has you. He could. So easily. “I want to.”

You pull back, and there’s a split second where he swears you look a little ashamed, and then it vanishes. “You are a romantic.”

“Not entirely…” Joel says. “I just…would rather do things right. For someone I like.”

“Someone you like?”

“Yes.” Obviously. 

“Okay, yeah,” you murmur softly. “I would like that.” 

“Next weekend?” 

“That long?” 

He chuckles. “It’ll be worth the wait.” But you don’t seem convinced. “I promise.”

For a split second his eyes flick over your shoulder to the microwave, and he sees what time it is. “Shit. Shit. I’m sorry. It’s late. Sarah’s gonna be home any minute and if I’m not home-” he pauses, gestures between you. “We shouldn’t uh…we shouldn’t mention this to her. Not for now, at least.” 

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on it,” you shake your head in agreement. 

Joel leans in to kiss you again. This time, he keeps it slow, tender, lingering. Even though he knows he’ll get to see you again, he still finds it hard to tear himself away.

----

part v

taglist: @yaskna@venomous-ko@lomljigg@yeehawbitchs@ay0nha @eldahae @lol-im-done@melancholicmelanin@reggies-floatie @omniscientqueer@superflymaterial@mikkorantanev@zbeez-outlet @nadja-antipaxos @strawberri-blonde @jabbajambler @ponyboys-sunsets @kyuupidwrites @r4efromvenus @loveatfirstsight-atlastsight @korianderbandit @nicoleoeoeoe @hotgirlsshareaccounts @madisonred88 @crustyrustydusty @sflame15-blog @issybee0611 @darkemeralddiamond @grandmana @totallynotastanacc @ay0nha @virgogaia @lunarxeclipse @marysucks-blog @jabbajambler @surazim @naiomiwinchester

[inchidentally]

@vastappenen LISTEN okay so this is the full spin-off of the Charlos part of my Prince Lando AU post

I cannot write real fic so this is just like me doing a retelling of what's gone on in my mind lol - and this is the post of Charles in White that's screencapped above

(side note my friend was listening to this haunting music while I wrote this so it might help set the scene - it's called "Fancy on a Bach Air" by Yo-Yo Ma)

this gets a bit NSFW toward the end so fair warning!

ok so to start, this is what was in my original post

Unfortunately the royal courts of Europe were shaken by a quick series of upsets: His Serene Highness Lorenzo of Monaco abdicated the throne in search of a quieter life - his heart had never been in it since his father, the former Sovereign Prince, had become ill and abdicated. This left Lorenzo’s unwed brother Charles to be hastily crowned Prince Regent at the tender age of 22 (too young to be crowned Sovereign Prince bc modern monarchy rules I’m inventing). As a result Charles suffered the loss of his long-time suitor, nobleman Sebastian Vettel, who couldn’t bear the thought of being Sovereign Prince let alone of a land that wasn’t even his own.

Enter the Sainz Vázquez de Castro elders seizing the opportunity and negotiating a deal with Monaco in private conclave with the Papal State (??) to wed their son Carlos to the Prince Regent. Carlos is ashamed at giving in to the temptation… to not just be Prince Consort but to be Sovereign Prince, to rule over the vast wealth of Monaco and by extension the Holy See, to have the coveted beauty Charles in his bed. So he agrees to be spirited away to Monaco and the ugly business of dissolving his betrothal to Lando is left to members of church and state.

But Carlos experiences a complete conversion when Charles is on his knees in the cathedral - looking up at him with docile green eyes as Carlos’ fingertips touch the warm red roses of Charles’ lips as he holds the chalice of holy wine for Charles to drink. Carlos was almost hard beneath the ermine and velvet robes in a house of God when the crown was on his head and Charles next to him - and slightly below - smiling up at him with filaments of gold hanging from pendants on his chaplet, framing his achingly beautiful face. If Carlos feels his immense happiness and prosperity darken whenever he sees Lando’s picture or encounters him at one of the courts then no one need know.

ok so I've removed this from the narrative to of course be charlos true happiness endgame and removed Seb entirely, or he can just be called a close confidante and possible candidate to marry Charles but not very serious.

I imagine young Carlos Jr. moving through the royal courts as a child and teen and seeing the royal children of Monaco sometimes. in my weird version of royalty I have it that Lorenzo is the natural successor to the throne and therefore has always been allowed to dress and be seen "normally". as a second child, Charles was always the rightful property of whichever alliance would maintain Monaco's independence. he was raised mostly in the Prince's Palace and when playing or venturing to where he could be seen he's attended by a retinue of guards each carrying a gonfalon to conceal the young prince from view. on the rare occasions that the prince will be around those not within his immediate family or private staff, he is carefully wrapped in embroidered, jeweled white silks or cottons (depending on the climate) with only his eyes visible. the only color allowed being a scarlet silk girdle around his hips. until he reaches maturity or is married he wears a ferronnière with a single white diamond at his forehead. (I imagine the wrapping as looking like fancy white fireproofs that cover the hands as well and a long, flowy tunic over the top with smart little white renaissance boots (that Charles hates).

Prince Charles is also not permitted to speak outside of his family circle/staff but he is taught multiple languages and fond rumors spread that the prince has a charming lilting accent that comes from a little of everywhere. he is also taught the piano and there is a place on the shore that only locals know of where fairy echoes of his playing can be heard. they call it his 'lone voice' because the mood inside the palace can be judged by the prince's choice of music. childish and jolly for a while, then more challenging pieces, until his eighteenth birthday and an unknown dirge for his godfather who had perished during a racing tourney that summer. the prince's music would change over the years but it would never be joyful again.

I imagine many instances over the years of Carlos Jr. being coaxed by a conniving Carlos Sr. into bowing low to the small, mummified-looking creature that everyone assures him is a prince. the eyes and vague suggestion of white-clad hands and feet are the only indications that this is true, but the big green eyes are very expressive and seem to smile whenever they meet Carlos' own big brown eyes. Prince Lorenzo has a kind smile and would be a good playmate but solemnly maintains his position by his parents' side. Prince Arthur comes along in a bundle of energy and mischief - being blessed with a birthright to total freedom so long as his elder siblings are alive. he enjoys being swung around and thrown in the air by Carlos Jr. which helps pass the tedium of royal engagements. Arthur is clearly the favorite of Charles who rather mothers him - especially when the Sovereign Prince falls ill and hushed preparations are made behind palace walls for Lorenzo to take the throne. Charles is so deep in mourning for his godfather and soon his own father that his presentation at court is delayed indefinitely as it would be cruel to open him up to marriage bids that would inevitably take him from his home.

in the meantime, Carlos Jr. has grown into his large features and promises to inherit all his father's looks and daring. at his father's encouragement - "by the time you wed a virgin, you will need to know everything there is to know about pleasing them" - Carlos enjoys countless conquests across every continent on the globe. he's a seasoned bachelor by the age of 20 and has been given his own estate outside of Madrid to party, race expensive cars and drink expensive wine. but even as he wakes between the thighs of this or that beautiful boy or girl, his mind recalls the hours spent at court in Monaco trying to discern the subtlest lines of Prince Charles' body beneath the absurd layers of drapery. he knows for sure that the prince is slim but not scrawny. that his posture is upright and proud and stands about the same height as Carlos. at times when he scoops Arthur up to hold on one hip, Carlos can discern the fine dip of a small waist - probably small enough for Carlos' big hands to meet around. what a gift-wrapped present for whoever got to marry him!

but by the time they next meet, news has traveled all over of the Sovereign Prince's health and plans for the reluctant Prince Lorenzo to be hastily crowned. during their first visit after this news, Carlos Jr. makes his usual low bow to Prince Charles but when he looks up he sees tears clouding the prince's green eyes. it twists Carlos' heart and he boldly takes the prince's hand and presses a hurried kiss to the silk and at the same time trying to speak with his eyes how sorry he is for the prince. the small noise Charles makes at Carlos' boldness is a precious secret Carlos holds like a tangible thing against the breast of his tailcoat as he hurries down the steps before any of the other royals can notice what he's done.

[this is when the above section from my AU comes in and Carlos is attempted to be married off to Prince Lando, Lorenzo abdicates, Charles can only be named Prince Regent bc of his status etc and a hasty arrangement is made for him to marry Carlos]

at their wedding I imagine Charles' veil/headdress to be much lighter and tied in a simple knot at the base of his head. the only time Charles is called to speak is to swear fealty to the crown, to his country, and to his husband (it's also the first time Charles' voice has been heard by almost everyone in the Cathedral including Carlos. it sounds like joyous music, dipping deep and rich one moment and high and sweet the next - with a little bubble of laughter at the end. Carlos wants to hear him talk forever.) when the priest finishes his blessing, Carlos put a hand beneath Charles' chin and guides him to stand. he moves closer to Charles than he has ever been permitted and circles his arms around his neck to untie the knot. the veil falls away and a collective gasp rises up from the cathedral through the clouds of incense. Carlos doesn't gasp so much as suck in a triumphant breath through his nostrils and lifts his chin in triumph. Charles is not just the chaste ideal of beauty that the court and citizens of Monaco had whispered about for years, he is the vision of temptation itself: a delicate brush-spatter of freckles beneath a flush on finely molded cheekbones, a straight French nose that was the final word on French noses, and perfectly smooth lips in the shape of a patriotic 'M' and the exact red of Monaco's flag. the prince's hair and brows have all the shades of a glossy hazelnut and a thick fan of lashes surrounded the green eyes - all that Carlos had known of him until now. but soon, he would know everything about Charles and in a way no one else ever had or would.

Carlos is supposed to buss a small, ceremonial barely-there kiss to Charles' lips to please the court but of course he can't help himself and, holding Charles' face in his big hands, presses a fiercely possessive (thankfully still close-mouthed) kiss that nearly makes Charles collapse. murmurs go around the cathedral of "well, those Spaniards, you know".

when they are crowned, my version of royalty has the priest setting the heavy gold crown on Carlos' head but Carlos in turn places the chaplet of gold leaves and gemstone pendants on Charles. Carlos is flying as high as mortal can when he can finally lead Charles out to the balcony and show him off to the waiting public. Carlos wonders if there's a man on earth who possesses more wealth than he does at that moment.

but there's one more thing he doesn't yet have! oh you bet the bedding ceremony is weird and fucked up and poor Charles is using the short time they have alone as they move through the halls (merely flanked by guards) to nervously and apologetically explain to Carlos what they will need to do. something about protocol for regents who found it difficult to "perform" under such circumstances etc. Carlos just puts a big warm hand to Charles' lips as they are rushed along, leaning into to whisper that he'd take Charles' virginity in front of his own grandmother if that's what was required and his desire still wouldn't be dampened.

the chamber is small and has one purpose. the clergy stand behind wrought iron mullioned screens but Charles can see their eyes clearly and has known many of them all his life. he'd probably faint dead away from nerves if Carlos didn't pull him close and kiss him so deep and dirty it should've turned Charles' white gown red with lust. Carlos tells him to look only into his eyes, that he'll take good care of him. there's a whole intense sexy element to Carlos unwrapping Charles the rest of the way, just like the birthday present he'd imagined when he was a teenager. he probably spends WAY too much time on foreplay considering the witnesses are only there to see one thing and then leave but Carlos knows that Charles deserves this. by the time they've reached the point where Carlos can reach a hand between them and literally 'come' up with the goods to hold up and be viewed, Charles' moans are reaching up to the rafters. there's a rustle and murmured blessings as the priests finally withdraw.

Carlos is like FINALLY and decides to give Charles every bit of the benefit of his vast experience and looks smug as hell when Charles' attendants have to physically carry Charles to his own bed bc Carlos fucked him senseless lmao

agfalsgfsla this was so weird and detailed and I do not know WHERE it came from but if an actual writer sees this and wants to write it properly PLEASE tag me or message me!!!

EDIT: these are great photo references for adult Charles and Carlos in this AU

source

[covetyou]

a dress up!Joel interlude

tomorrow (29th May) I'll be posting the next part of dress up!Joel, lovingly titled ghosted.

in the meantime, have this interlude of sorts that I've been sitting on for weeks (and honestly thought I posted back in April, whoops.)

main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

rating: Explicit (18+ only!) word count: 969 warnings: more brotherly shenanigans, sex toy talk, mild relationship angst, alcohol consumption summary: Joel's egg hunt couldn't have gone worse, and so he confides in the one person who has his back no matter what - his baby brother.

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Shooting the shit with his little brother wasn't something Joel Miller ever thought he'd enjoy. But, with age and maturity, there wasn't anything quite like sipping cold beers in his backyard, his brother yapping away about work, or girls, or the playoffs, or just about anything else, as they relaxed at the end of a long week. Tommy could talk, and Joel could listen, and that's how it'd always worked.

"Hey, you still got that thing I gave you," Tommy suddenly asks, after giving Joel a blow by blow of his latest conquest - some blonde he met at a bar and didn't even know the name of.

"What, this pain in my ass? Yeah."

"Very funny. Nah, I mean that ballpedo thing. Turns your balls into a torpedo."

"Balldo."

"Yeah! You still got it? If you ain't usin' it, ain't no use in it goin' to waste."

Joel lifts his beer, the condesation leaving a dark ring on his jeans, and takes a sip, averting his eyes from Tommy.

"Still got it."

It was stuffed at the bottom of his sock drawer upstairs. After Christmas, and his uncomfortable walk back home with the thing still strapped to his balls, it took him a little while to pry the thing off. The lube he'd spread over himself was turning tacky combined with your juices, and wetting it just made everything too slippery. But, eventually, he was free, and he cleaned the thing up and left it to dry, as if there would be any opportunity to use it again.

It was a happy coincidence that Sarah was with her mom again on Valentine's day, and your calendar for that day was empty - he noticed when he was fixing a drip in your kitchen sink. Given you enjoyed Christmas, he thought you might like something else too, and he was happy to be right. On Easter, he was going to leave a note for you for his little egg hunt, hoping you'd wake up Saturday morning and make your way over to his place to find the final prize.

He hadn't expected to get caught, and he hadn't expected things to be left as they were afterwards. Now the memory of all of it left a sour taste in his mouth.

"Can I go grab it? I'll take it off you."

"Nah... nah it's okay," Joel says, with a non-commital wave, as Tommy stands, taking a few steps to head inside.

"C'mon, if you ain't usin' it, I can take it. Mom never teach you to share your shit?"

"I'm always sharin' my shit with you, I said no," Joel shoots back with finality, unable to stop himself from mumbling into the rim of his beer. "You wouldn't want it now anyway."

Tommy was never one for being quick to catch on, and for that Joel was grateful. Though, maybe this time he underestimated his little brother. Tommy still makes a move to head inside, likely to rifle through his shit to find the toy he'd given Joel so long ago, but he stops in his tracks before pulling the patio door open.

"Holy shit," is all Tommy says. "Holy shit."

"You remember you're an asshole again?"

"You used the fuckin' ball thing?!"

Joel's silence says all Tommy needs to know.

"You gave yourself a dick for balls and you didn't tell me? Fuck I've been wonderin' about that thing ever since I gave it to you. It good?"

Joel doesn't really know what to say. He doesn't want to say anything - he wants to keep his fuck up with you his own tragic little secret, but now the balldo's out of the bag, he can't exactly dodge the question. Tommy was a persistent bastard when he wanted to be, and Joel knew that he was going to be extra persistent with this.

"It... yeah. Yeah, it was good."

"Wait... fuckin' wait a minute. This mean you got a girl?!" Tommy's face lights up as he asks, and Joel can feel the color drain from his. "You got a girl and you didn't bother tellin' me? You wound me, brother."

Shaking his head, Joel takes another swig of beer, hoping it'll wash the memory of the taste of you from his mouth. It doesn't.

"Nah. Didn't get the girl."

"You fuck it up that bad?"

As much as they could piss each other off, they always had each other to fall back on. Usually, of course, it was Joel picking up the pieces for Tommy, but there was an unspoken agreement between them that meant no one was keeping score. No one owed anyone anything, they'd always be there for each other, whether it was one time or a thousand times. So, against his better judgement, Joel tells Tommy everything and, for once, Tommy listens.

"Only one thing I don't get," Tommy muses when Joel finally finishes with a sigh. "If it was a misunderstanin', what the fuck are you doin' here with me, and not over there with her, explainin' yourself?"

"She told me to leave. I don't wanna intrude any m-"

"You broke into her fuckin' house, brother, think you're long past that."

Tommy slides the patio door open, half inside, half outside, and looks back at his big brother.

"Take it from an asshole who knows - doin' nothin' ain't gonna do shit. You don't get the girl, you don't get your shit rocked. Talk to her. You got nothin' to lose. If she don't want anything to do with you, nothin' changes, and if she does, well... you get the girl, and you get your shit rocked."

He hated to admit it, but Tommy was right, and Joel had never felt so fucking stupid that he didn't come to the same conclusion sooner.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he'd make this right.

[cerridwen007]

I Want You.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 1.8k (18+)

Summary: After spending all of your situationship trying to convince you that you’re the only one he wants, Joel decides to take a different approach to get you to understand.

Inspired by the song “I Want You” by Reignwolf.

Notes/Warnings: SMUT with a touch of Angst, porn with feelings, insecure reader, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, rough sex/foreplay, primal play, creampie, dom Joel, sub reader, biting, choking, swearing, no y/n, fluffy ending.

A/N: Kinda self indulgent but I mean who wouldnt want Joel to fuck the insecurity out of them? Once again I am apologizing for being inactive in writing and posting my fics. I've been a bit burned out with writing and been busy with work and life. So this time I know to not make promises about weekly posts. Instead I'm going to give myself grace and instead try and do at least one fic a month. So some months I might write 3-4 fics and others only one, it honestly will depend on how I'm feeling. But what I will try to do within this next month is finish updating my masterlist with some new, sexy banners and maybe also make a fic rec masterlist for all my favorite works. I will say I have been working on a few wips and am about half way through Corruption of Innocence part 3 and have also come up with another series this time for Joel, so stay tuned for that some time in the future. Thank you as always for any interactions with my posts, it means the world to me.

******

You couldn't actually justify why you did it. You shouldn't have pushed him away. But some part of you couldn't believe that he could love you and only you and that he wouldn't get bored of you and seek pleasure in someone else's bed. In all honesty, you were silly to think that, even being the soft-spoken man Joel was, he still always tried his best in reassuring you that he wanted you. And never did he ever give you any reasons to doubt his loyalty to you. But yet you decided to end your situationship with Joel in fear of getting hurt.

Joel, on the other hand, was first distressed and then annoyed that you pushed him away. He had been spending more of his nights at the Tipsy Bison, drinking away his troubles, trying to forget his feelings for you. He just couldn't seem to understand why you called it quits. You had spent so long dancing around your feelings for each other, and then when you finally did get together, everything was great, the best he had ever felt in a long time. Then it all came crashing down one night when you said that you wanted to stop seeing each other.

You took some convincing to admit the reasoning why. And when you did, he was shocked. Maybe he hadn't been expressing enough of his affection towards you. Maybe he should have told you he loved you already. You were quick to reassure him that it was yourself and not him. To which he scoffed and rolled his eyes at. But you pleaded with him that it was completely you, that you couldn't handle losing him. At first, as much as it hurt him to do so, he respected your wishes, and then one night about a month after your split, something inside of him snapped. He wasn't going to let the best thing in his life go that easily.

You were spending your night at home by yourself like usual, trying to forget Joel in your own way, distracting yourself with a book and a cup of tea. Your heart skipped a beat when it heard fairly loud knocking at your door. The knocking stopped for a second, and you thought about just ignoring it until it started again.

“Alright, I'm coming, jeez. You scoff annoyed, walking to the door before opening it.

Your voice and breath immediately hitch in your throat. Eyes widening as they take in the intimidating, tall figure before you, leaning against your doorframe. You scan over his body, the way his shirt and pants stretch over his wide thighs and shoulders, his eyes brown and soft but filled with something deeper and darker tonight. God, has he gotten even hotter since you last saw him? Your thoughts are interrupted when he coughs to get your attention and speaks.

“Came to talk to ya, sweetheart.” He says darkly.

You move aside and invite him in.

“Oh..yeah come in.” You whisper back.

You can smell the whiskey he likes on his breath as he walks by and the smell that is undoubtedly him, something you missed all so dearly. You take a deep breath, working up the courage to speak before you talk.

“Why are you here, Joel?”

“I think you know why I'm here.” 

You cross your arms and raise your eyebrow.

He speaks through gritted teeth, like an animal baring its fangs, holding back, ready to devour its prey. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know…cause I told you…I told you, I want you.”

“Joel I know, but I…” You whisper.

The words seem to slip away. Your brain can't seem to find proper reasoning as to why you still push him away, yet you still do, as if your body is working on autopilot.

“You know I want you, you're in my head.” His tone softens for a moment as he looks deep into your eyes. Wishing that you would just believe him and give your relationship a chance.

You go to interrupt, but he shuts you up by roughly grabbing your cheeks and jaw in one hand, the slight pain and abrupt motion to make you stop talking and listen. You can't help but let your desire continue to grow. Your middle is dripping from his dominance and assertiveness. You're almost whimpering at his touch.

“Joel.” You manage to mumble out, the last of your denying uttered in that one word.

He tightens his grip ever so slightly and lowers his head closer to yours, his lip curled.

“Well I'm telling you. I want you…..I get the feeling that you just don't understand, I'm crying, wolf, and I'll always be your man.” he growls.

The tension is thick in the air. Joel never failed to make you wet at the sight of him, but this was something else, a primal need to feast on each other's mouths and flesh like you won’t have the chance to again.

The point of tension breaks and your mouths attach to each other like magnets drawn together. The kisses are  filled with desire, lust, and want, but also with ‘I missed you’s’, don’t let me go again’s, and love. Teeth are clashing, lips smashing, hands flying about, trying to grab onto each other and hold them close in any way they can. 

Joel pushes you against the wall harshly, pulling you up so your legs wrap around his waist. You moan into his mouth, feeling his craving for your body, nestled against your clothed middle. His desire to be gentle and take his time is long gone out the window as he feverishly explores your body, ripping away any clothing that stands in his way of touching and tasting your bare skin. He marks all along your body, your neck, jaw, and collarbones, anywhere he can reach, claiming you for his own. 

His hands reach up behind your back and pull your hair firmly, giving him move access to attack your flesh with bite and hickey’s. You find yourself a grinning and whimpering mess under him. He growls into your breasts after ripping away your shirt and bra like a wild wolf, warning others not to touch his meal. He finally pulls you both off the wall and quickly walks to your bed and throws you down. Not wanting to waste a moment, he pulls your pants and panties off swiftly. He groans as he gets on his knees and takes in the scent of your arousal. 

“God I missed you and this sweet pussy, sweetheart.”

Before you can respond his hands wrapped around your thighs are pulling you to his mouth, he makes quick work of you, his tongue licking every inch of you, switching between, fucking into you pulsating hole and teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue. It feels so good, yet you can’t help but squirm around only to be pinned down by Joel's forearm, keeping his meal still for him. 

Your hand reaches down into his graying locks as Joel undoes you with his skilled tongue. Your first orgasm comes quickly. He groans deeply at the sweet taste gracing his taste buds, but he doesn’t stop or slow down. Instead he speeds up his actions and begins thrusting two fingers into your drenched cunt and curling them to reach that spot that makes your toes curl and eyes roll back. The pathetically beautiful sounds coming from your mouth do nothing but egg him to continue, urging you to your second orgasm of the night in mere minutes. Two fingers become three that mercilessly fuck into your tight hole.

“Cum for me.” Joel quietly groans in your cunt. 

Taking his words as a stern order, you let go, drenching his face with your second release of the night. He is grinning ear to ear as he drinks up every bit of your sweetness, your hands grip the sheets tightly, cunt verging on overstimulation. He finally lets up when he feels satisfied and crawls back up to give yourself a taste of your own pleasure from his tongue. He groans deeply as you begin pulling him down on top of you and arching your back up into him, insinuating you want more, need to feel him inside you. He chuckles darkly and reaches down between you to tease your folds with the tip of his cock. 

He keeps teasing despite your whines for him to put it in already. 

“Please….Please Joel.” You whine quietly.

He grins devilishly. “Begging me to fuck you sweetheart, Need it that bad, don’t you honey?”

You nod your head in response, but Joel doesn't like that answer. He grips your throat lightly and speaks through gritted teeth.

“Use your words baby.” he growls.

“Y-Yes, need it so bad Joel.”

“Atta girl.”

He quickly thrusts his whole length into your quivering hole, making you gasp out. He lets you adjust to his size for a few seconds before slowly yet brutally dragging his length almost all the way out before slamming it back into your tight cunt again.

You unconsciously bring your fist up to your mouth and bite into, so overwhelmed with the deliciously brutal pleasure you were feeling.Before you could have even comprehended, he flips you over and brings your ass up to his cock, slamming into your hip mercilessly. Your eyes rolled back into your head, he holds the back of your neck down as he pounded into you. Your hands find purchase in the sheets, gripping them tightly. He lowers himself so his front is flush with your back, and the new angle hits even deeper inside you, urging you to the precipice of climax. 

“All mine, This pretty cunt is all mine.” Joel snarled into your ear, biting your ear lobe.

“F-f-fuck yes, only yours, Joel.”

“That’s my girl.” He praises you, before reaching around to rub your clit, sending you over the edge.

“Shit! Joel!” You whine as your high comes crashing down.

His thrusts never stuttered as he worked you through your high and chased his own. Joel roughly grabbed your hips as he creamed inside of you, a final step in marking his territory.

You both collapsed on the bed, Joel’s full weight comforting as you caught your breaths. A comfortable silence blanketed the room, which only moments ago was filled with obscene noises.

“I love you.” he whispered.

Your eyes opened wide in surprise at his remark, the first ever time he has ever said those three words to you. You turn your head to try and look at him better. You see his eyes have returned a closer shade to their normal deep brown, his pupils blown wide. You can’t help but smile at his softness, a stark contrast to him behavior only moments ago. Nevertheless, you loved every bit of Joel you could get.

“I love you too.” You whisper before placing a gentle, lingering kiss on his lips.

You couldn't be certain of what was the future for you and Joel, but you knew right now there is no place you rather be than snuggling with your person.

********

[sparks-olivarpente]

the Stranger Fics

(byler fics with unexpected powers or twists)

Turns out a lot of my favorite fics enter this category. Feel free to reblog and add fics you love :)

In the Eye of a Hurricane (It's You and Me) by Julia_Skysong "Jonathan, why…why am I with dad on the security tape????" Lonnie Byers is a royal piece of shit. Will finds out he has powers and understandably has a meltdown about it, and Mike helps him through it.

over a bridge of time by @sevensided Hawkins isn't the same without Will. So Mike goes to visit him in Chicago. Then strange things happen… Second part of the awesome serie THE DARK MIRROR and of course you should read the whole thing :)

I know the end by @cosmobrain00 The worst-case scenario has happened. … and that's all the summary you'll get from me! an ongoing serie that keeps getting better and better (or worse and worse, depending on the point of view). Tags: #Mind Manipulation #Will has powers

them’s the breaks by emelinelou Three years after moving to California, one Will Byers shows up - read: dimension-teleports or something - back in Hawkins. In the corner of Mike's bedroom. In the middle of the night. Turns out this is a bad thing, namely for Mike and Mike's sanity.

captured ghosts by etchedstars ghosts from will's past come back to haunt this. literally or metaphorically is up to audience interpretation. Some favorite tags: #plot relevant cuddles #will gets to be sarcastic #he also commits crime

Come Hell, High Water by naiesu “It’s been months, Mike,” Lucas says, staring at Mike, hard. Mike can’t remember a time he didn’t look at him that way. “Will is a cold case. You need to accept that.” The dream-like parts are amazingly written &lt;3

yesterFriday by nbfutureboy (@futureboy-ao3) Will Byers wakes up as usual one Friday morning - he worries about his family, his History test, and telling the people he loves that he doesn’t Like Girls in that way. Then he does it again. [Groundhog Day AU where Will gets stuck in a time loop.]

a strange education (reach out and touch me) by Total_Serene (@total-serene560) 16 year old Mike Wheeler wakes up in the middle of a highway in Indiana. He can't remember what happened, but he knows three things: He was going somewhere, it was supposed to be night, and he had taken Nancy's car. The mystery in this one…!!!

The Basement by olliecoddle (@souverian-are-we) Will and Mike spend their days in a little run-down house in the Upper Peninsula with dated furniture and peeling wallpaper, two sinking recliners next to each other. But there is a beast in the basement.

A Stranger Things Ghost Story by Junigatsu84 It is the Summer of 1983, before all the horrors that befall Hawkins. The boys are looking for their own mystery to solve and find a haunted house. It’s a shame Will is the only one to see it.

Back to the Future (with Mike Wheeler) by Nymphadoragreenleaf On a list of the top five most unexpected things to happen to Mike Wheeler, traveling 10 years into the future has got to take the top spot. The half-naked man claiming to be his best friend might be number two. Alternatively known as, Mike Wheeler tries to survive a week in the 90's and figures a couple of things out along the way.

You are the Heart by TouchTheSky A fever-dream, mucho-feels, super long, semi-fix-it, version of Season 5. i feel like i know you (but we never met) by @andiwriteordie “Who?” Mike’s voice breaks again, and Joyce chokes back a sob. “Joyce, who… who was he?” Or: The one in which Will Byers doesn't exist… At least not anymore.

with all my heart by mogiah (@morganee) what happens when Birthdaygate and Lettergate meet. or another one in which Will doesn't exist anymore

i've come home, i'm so cold by astrobi (@astrobei) Will's trying his hardest to make it through fall semester in one piece. Unfortunately for his degree, he's being haunted by maybe-feelings for his best friend (metaphorically), and also a maybe-ghost with rather abysmal fashion sense (literally). The fic that made me decide to spend the rest of my life that year reading fics

Blackout by Tea_For_One_Please as if their senior year of high school wasn't complicated enough, the Party find themselves investigating an accidental death, believing it to be connected to a similar event nearly two decades earlier. Just normal teenager stuff, right? This one hasn't been updated for a while but I remember enjoying the plot and mystery a lot

baby, we’re perfect by bookinit (@bookinit02) Senior year in Hawkins. Will and Mike figure some things out. I'm not allowed to say anything else about this fic. To quote the author: "brace yourselves. sorry in advance."

you were bigger than the whole sky by delusionaltogether (@parkitaco) Mike breathes out sharply, sinking to his knees in front of Will without conscious thought. Every bone in his body is turning to jelly, because Will is here, but he's also- not. on march 29th, 1986, will byers vanishes for a second time. 366 days later, he reappears.

This is where it starts by cottonscent While the rest of the party moved on and forgot once the gate closed Will kept exploring, and the connection he formed to the other dimension it actually a lot more complex than what they originally thought.

[wordsaresimple-imnot]

so you’re taking requests. . . 😳 how do we feel about a fic with Luz just being a biiig softie? he’s such a wiseass all the time, I’d love to see your take on him maybe being more vulnerable and relaxed and emotional in an x reader if you’re up for it (I love the way you were able to characterize Liebgott in your most recent fic) <3 fluff, angst, smut or any other angle you’d wanna go with, totally up to you!

In her arms - George Luz x F!Reader

Okay, so I had already had an idea like this in my drafts and squealed when I read your request! I really, really hope I did him justice and this is what you want/like! If you want a redo please let me know! <3 Please enjoy @littleyankspitfire :)

Summary: George accompanies Malarkey into town after the bombing in Bastogne, needing to see Reader before he entirely falls apart.

Warnings: angst, mentions of war/death/violence, cursing, George is a frazzled mess and just needs to be held, fluffy ending.

A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.

A/N pt 2: I was going to make this have smut but the more I wrote the more I just wanted him to be cuddled and loved. George deserves so much. Might think of a way to do a part 2 with some lovin' for our boy. I hope y'all enjoy this! Please comment, like, reblog <3 <3 <3

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George and Malarkey entered the medic tent like zombies. Neither speaking, just going off of some internal compass pointing them towards their desired destination. Malarkey veers off to the right where Buck is laying on a cot, his eyes as vacant as theirs. George wanders up and down the rows, looking for a familiar face but starts to lose hope when he comes up short. Eventually he gently grabs the arm of a nurse walking by.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for someone." He gives her name and waits.

"Who's asking?" She gives him a skeptical stare and straightens her back.

"I'm George Luz with Easy Company. We're friends." He watches as she relaxes.

"Oh, I've heard of you. She's suppose to be resting for a few hours. Down the road on the left, third building, second floor, first door on the right." She gives him a quick smile and then hurries off in the direction she was originally going.

George follows her direction and soon enough, he's in front of the door. Two deep breathes later and he gives a sharp knock. He waits a beat and then knocks again, calling out to her. There's sounds of movement inside the room and then the door is pulled open. For a moment George feels guilty, having obviously disturbed her much needed nap, but the way he feels like he can finally breathe after seeing her chases the guilt away.

"Hey doll." He tries for his usual upbeat greeting but it comes out almost painful. Her eyes scan his face, a deep frown forming.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

He opens his mouth to answer, but doesn't know what to say. Everything is wrong. Physically I'm fine but everything else is hurt. Before he can finish his thought, his vision is blurred with tears and a quiet sob escapes. As the next one slips out, he's partially falling/being pulled into her arms and maneuvered to the bed.

She situates them so that her back is against the headboard with him draped half on her and half on the bed, head on her torso as more sobs rack his body. The scene is enough to make her own eyes mist over. This isn't the George she knows; he's always the optimistic one with a quick joke or wisecrack to push the darkness away and bring a smile to everyone's faces. Having him cling to her like she's a lifetime and he's drowning makes her worry that this war has finally taken the last bit of light from someone she never thought would lose it. And that terrifies her.

Instead of pressing him to speak, she lets him purge his emotions out while running her fingers through his hair and offering soothing sounds. Eventually his tears start to slow and he focuses on evening out his breathing. She keeps running her fingers through his hair, letting him decide if he wants to talk or not. When he does start to speak, his voice still holds a quiver but the longer he talks, the stronger it becomes. He talks about everything that happened; how what happened with Buck, Guarnere and Toye was still fresh and effecting the company, that the bombings that just happened killed Much and Penkala right in front of him, how if he'd made it to their foxhole he would have been killed, how him and Lipton nearly did die and were only saved by a faulty wire in the bomb that landed right in front of them.

As he spoke, her heart broke again and again over his loses (hers too as she was also friends with this men) and her anxiety grew as he told her about his not once, but twice back to back near death experience. Being in the middle of a war you come to terms with the high probability that you will die, but holding someone and listening to their recount of it nearly happening is not something you can prepare for. Once he's done relaying everything, a heavy silence follows, both of them lost in their thoughts and feelings of the events.

Slowly, George lifts himself from laying on her, moving up on the bed so he's leaning back on the headboard next to her. He grabs one of her hands that is now in her lap and laces their fingers together.

"I thought of you." He keeps his eyes on their interlocked hands, running his thumb back and forth over her soft skin. He see's her turn her head to look at him out of the corner of his eye.

"What do you mean?" She asks when he doesn't look like he's going to continue.

"When I was looking at that bomb at my feet, waiting for it to go off and finish me. You hear of other people that go through near death experiences and they see their life flash before their eyes. That's what I thought was going to happen, that I'd see my family and hometown and family dog. I'd remember all the big and small things I did, things I'd forgotten about. But that didn't happen. Instead, all I could think about was you. How you always make me work for a real laugh from you but I usually get a playful smile and eyeroll, how your tongue peaks out of the corner of your mouth when you're focused on finishing a wrapping or stitch just right, how you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen especially covered in dirt, how I wanted to kiss you that night by the lake when I told you the moonlight in your hair made you look like a goddess but I was too scared." George turns his head to meet her eyes.

"Why are you telling me this?" She whispers.

"Because I'm scared in a different way now. I was scared of starting something when this war could take either of us away at any moment. But after that bomb, all I'm scared of is dying without ever knowing what we could have. Never being able to kiss or hold you like I want. Never telling you that...I love you." George turns enough to face her, maintaining eye contact as he slowly leans his head towards her. "Tell me you don't feel the same. Tell me I'm just losing my mind and I'll leave."

"I love you too, George. However long we have left on this Earth, I want us to be together." She squeezes his hand that was still holding hers and puts her free one on his cheek. The smile that breaks out across his face isn't his usual smirk or something goofy to get a laugh, but a true pure smile that warms her heart. Sending him a matching smile, she tilts her head up and closes the gap between their lips.

The kisses are slow and sweet, almost tentative. Neither of them wanting to break the small bubble of peach they'd crafted around themselves. As they keep up their light exploration of each others mouths, they shift lower onto the bed so they're laying on their sides, wrapped up in each others arms. She pulls back slightly, taking in his soft smile and sleepy eyes, and gives him a quick peck.

"Rest with me a little bit?"

"Long as I get to hold you." He kisses her lips again, then the top of her head before resting his his head on top of hers, holding her as close as possible against himself.

Just as he's drifting off to sleep, he thinks: this is how I want to die, wrapped up in her arms.

[arandomcranberry]

Hot take but I actually don't mind the bnha ending. Obviously it's not perfect, but nothing is and that's what fanfiction is for. I'm mostly talking about the post timeskip part of the ending, since the long drawn out battle stuff is what bored me from the series in the first place.

More thoughts and spoilers under the cut:

So I've seen people upset about Izuku losing one for all, but him being quirkless again brings it all full circle and makes sure the whole one-for-all/all-for-one thing is actually done with. Since it's hard for quirkless people to be heros in quirked society, especially with his messed up arms, he becomes a teacher to he can still help and inspire the next generation. The part where he tells the circle hair kid that he CAN be a hero, even with a weak or nonexistent quirk, is him learning from his past and doing better than his predecessors by inspiring the next generation (instead of crushing their dreams...All Might better be glad midoriya didnt go villain...). Plus, at the end, it's implied that he gets to become an active hero again with the use of support gear, so he eventually gets to directly help people in the field as well as indirectly in class. I know a lot of people were hoping for ships and pairings to become canon, but honestly I don't care about that. There's so much discourse in the mha fandom already about that, and this way people can still ship who they like or whatever.

Anyways, I prefer Clouds fics and a couple of others to the main series anyway (mostly because they're shorter and get to the point a little faster) so take my thoughts with a grain of salt lol.

(Just gonna advertise some of my fave bnha fics lol)

Clouds fics:

Cheat Code: Support Strategist

Deku? I think he's some pro...

Mastermind: Strategist for Hire

Viridian: The Green Guide

Shadows: The Horror Movie Heroes

Other fics:

Yesterday Upon the Stair/Deku Sees Dead People

Residual Hope (haven't caught up with this one in a bit)

The Capture Scarf Caper (sigh, hasn't been updated since 2021)

Hero Class Civil Warfare

Regenerate, Fate