#character x female reader

[str4wkinzi]

NO LONGER YOUR OWN.

Sukuna x Reader. >:3 (Also i was giggling so hard at the bubbles summoning circle so i had to add it bite me) also this is suppperrrr long so teehee :3

Part 2 <3 Part 3

NSFW CONTENT! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

You were obsessed with the thought of summoning something. Spell book upon spell book that line your bookshelf, all were lousy flukes. None of them worked but you still had hope that you’d summon something one day.

You’d recently found out the dark web. They had all sorts of freaky shit on there like “eye of the blahblah” or “brain of the blahblahblah.” Whatever the fuck was on there it didn’t attract you. You were looking for one thing and one thing only.

After searching for a hour or two you come across an ad on the top of the screen. “RYOMEN.” You decide to click on it, its either another scarring video or a….

When you click the ad it takes you to a page that displays a thick book with the words on the ad imprinted on the cover. A book. Maybe not a spell book but its a book on the dark web so it probably is one. After.. hours of searching you found one.

I mean, at this point, fluke or not, you shouldn’t have hours of search to fail and you come back empty handed.

You don’t even read the description before ordering it. Even if it is a fluke its still worth a buy considering its only 5$.

You order it and close the page. Five dollars for the book and three days for it to come. Was hours of search, 70 viruses hacking your computer, and 200 trackers tracking your exact address worth it? Probably not. Do you care? Not really.

Three days after you ordered that book it arrived at your doorstep.

You pick the book up and take it inside, unwrapping it and taking it out of the box. You try ignore the red marks on the book which look and smell like blood..

The book looks exactly how it did in the ad.. except its burnt in some places and scraped on others. This actually looks.. somewhat real. Though, no matter how it looks theres only one thing that can prove this is real.

Candles and salt surrounding you, you know you’re ready. Though, you aren’t very excited. You can’t get your hopes up just incase it is fake.

You light your candles and open the book. You turn to a page, flip the book upside down and start reading. Half way through the page the words start… moving?

With the letters twisting on the page, it ends up spelling one thing..

‘SHUT UP.’

The words doubled, then tripled. The words start climbing out of the page as if they were alive, bouncing around you in a circle. You don’t even have time to see all the candles going out one by one before the book slams itself shut.

You try to open it again, it’s as if its been nailed shut. You try with all your might but it barely budges.

You go grab a knife from your kitchen and pry the book open. You open the book and flip through the pages but… nothings there. No words, no anything. Every single page has absolutely nothing.

A outline of a finger appears on the page you’re on. You put your finger perfectly in the outline. Nothing seems to happen. You try to take your finger off but you cant… You try and try but your finger wont move.

The whole page turns black. You then see a red hand. Not around you, no. Its coming from the page.. The red hand points at you.

It stays in a pointing position before grabbing your face and pulling you into the book. You’re trying to scream but you cant.

You soon fall into a pile of.. you open your eyes and you see a skull looking back at you. You crawl out of the pile screaming. Though it was a long fall, it actually didn’t hurt..?

You get up and start wondering around. You hear laughing from somewhere. You follow the sound and you see a figure on a chair. Thats of course, atop a pile of bones. A really huge pile of bones.

You go closer and you see…. Nothing. Its dark as fuck. But whatever it is.. its still laughing.

“I told you to shut up didn’t I?” the figure scolded.

“I’m giving you a chance. Don’t fuck it up.” He snaps his fingers and you’re out cold before you could utter a word in reply.

You wake up in your bed. You jump up and look around. Everything’s cleaned up, no candles, no salt, no words hopping around everywhere. Its as if last night.. never happened.

The book is still in its same place. Its almost menacing. What was that last night? Who was that last night? So many questions running through your mind make you dizzy. You fall back on your bed.

‘Did that thing have four arms?’ It was dark but you swear you saw two sets of arms, you just didn’t remember it until now.

You try to go on with your day but you just feel someone watching you. When theres no one around you feel theres something.

After you get home you contemplate trying the book again. Who was that? And what did he mean by ‘giving you a chance’?

Later that night you decide you’re trying the book again. You need answers. You set everything up again. The candles that look brand new, the salt that looks like it was never used. Did last night really happen?

With no time to dwell, you start reading again. The words start shifting, this time it spells something different.

‘I WARNED YOU.’

Bloodcurdling screams start echoing around you, making the room spin. You feel a drop of liquid hit your head. You look up and see.. blood. Blood dripping from the ceiling.

Youre too busy looking at the blood dropping to see the eight foot tall man standing in front of you. He starts chuckling and you almost break your neck to look where it came from.

“I gave you a chance to keep your life, mortal.” He says while grabbing your chin.

You’re unable to talk. What would you say to a four armed thing who just appeared in your room? Is this the guy from last night, it has to be.

He pulls your face closer to his, squishing your cheeks with his strong fingers.

“I should rip your face off right now.”

Upon hearing that you squirm away from his grasp and crawl back away from him.

“I could kill you right now.” He says, almost questioningly.

“But.. you are a cute little human. I’ll give you that much.” He adds.

He bends down, noses almost touching.

“I’ll make you a deal. If you give me your body, i’ll let you live.”

With so many things running through your mind you don’t even hear what the man said. Let alone come up with an answer.

“Hurry up, brat. Make me wait too long and ill kill you right here.” The scowls.

You snap out of your trance upon hearing those words.

Wait, what.

“Wait! Okayokayokayokay, whatever you want just don’t kill me!” You plead, you barely even hear what he wanted.

He picks you up with all four of his arms.

You look at all of his arms, tightly securing you feet in the air. He looks you in the eyes for a second before plopping you on the ground, on your knees.

He pulls his pants down just enough to expose his cock.

He sits down on your bed, manspreading.

All you can do is stare. He notices this and grabs the back of your head, forcing you down just enough to have your cheek against it.

Understanding what he wants, you try to put your mouth over the tip but its too big. You keep trying but it just wont fit. He notices your efforts and laughs.

He grabs the back of your head again, taking in a fist full of your hair. He positions your mouth over his cock and he forces you down. The noises and the tears in your eyes while you take his cock almost make it bigger.

He’s chuckling at your almost sorry display. You choking on a cock thats way to big for you is really a sight to see. Though, he can’t help the groans falling from his lips.

He lifts your head up as soon as he was about to cum. You’re trying to catch your breath but he interrupts you.

“Come.” He demands. You scramble to his side as he lays on your bed. He makes you sit right beside his head.

“Sit.” You know what he means. You take your pants off and hover over this face. He notices your hesitance and uses his second pair of arms to grab ahold of yours and hold you down.

You’re a moaning, whining mess. Made putty by the hands of.. whatever he is. You’d be embarrassed but his tongue. You can barely even think straight. The way his tongue squirms into your hole, coming back out only to lick at your clit.

You’re trying to squirm away, he doesn’t let you. With his arms holding you down you really can’t do anything but moan and grind on his face.

Though, you’re almost surprised when you feel two hands start playing with your chest. Forgetting the man has a whole other set of arms. You suddenly feel tongues swirling around your nipples.

The extra stimulation doesn’t help your case, you’re cumming in seconds.

Coming down from your high, he tells you to get on top of him. He knows you can barely stand you don’t have to tell him :3

You hover over him, all of him.

‘Will that thing fit?’

‘Its too big!’

Suddenly you feel his arms on your hips, pushing you down on his cock. You don’t even try to fight back, you can’t fight back.

The stretch is almost unbearable, tears prickling down your face. He notices this and grabs he back of your head, pulling you in just enough to lick away your tears.

After you’ve accommodated him he demands you to…

“Move.”

You put your hands on his torso and start grinding on his cock.

“You’re too slow.”

You’re flipped on your back, legs up. He’s pounding into your cunt like a wild animal.

He takes one of his hands and puts it over your clit, using his mouth-hand thing to suck on it.

With him pounding into your cunt, speed only ever getting faster, and his hand licking your clit, you cum fast.

One after another neither of you stop. He never stops fucking you and you never stop cumming. You would be screaming his name but you don’t even know it.

Wait.

You remember the books title through blurred images in your mind.

RYOMEN.

You remember the page you read.

RYOMEN… SUKUNA.

“Sukuna!” You moan, finally having something new to moan instead of sounding like a broken record.

He stops.

He looks down at you.

He uses his other hand to grab your lower face and lift it towards his as he cranes his face down.

He grins and retreats his face, letting go of yours as well.

“Say my name, pet.”

He starts slamming into you again with more vigor. You’re screaming by this time, you’ve cum so many times and you’re sensitive. He doesn’t care. Actually, that makes it better.

Ryomen Sukuna.

Ryomen Sukuna.

RYOMEN SUKUNA.

RYOMEN SUKUNA!

Really, its music to his ears. He knows he has you now.

After the umpteenth time of mutual cumming he pulls out. His cum flowing out of you looks so adorable.

He puts his hand on the top of your lower stomach. Suddenly, you feel a tingling sensation at that spot. You’re so fucked out you really don’t notice, or care.

Be leans down and whispers in your ear.

“You’re mine now, pet.”

You wake up on your bed, exactly how you were last night except cleaned up. No cum dripping out of your hole or anything. You even have clothes on.

You go to the bathroom and look at yourself. You would doubt last nights happenings but you can barely walk.

You feel something on your lower stomach.

You look down and you see.. a marking..?

You try to wipe it away but it stays.

You try to use water but it wont go away.

Him.

You remember the markings on his face. It reminds you of all of those markings into one. You don’t really have time to question anymore because you hear the bathroom door open.

Sukuna grabs your head and turns it to the mirror, him looking into your eyes through it.

“You’re no longer your own. You belong to me, pet.”

STR4WZ STICKY NOTE < YIPPPEEE this is finally done omg it took so long for NO reason (too busy adding to my 80 drafts) but ill definitely be posting more small stuff cuz its been a couple days ALSO!!! Thanks to my bbg @comicsann for giving me the idea of the uterus claim mark thing or whatever so wahoo anyways love you guys buebue 3

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Innocent and Touch-Starved 18+

Hunter x GN! Reader

All Characters are written to be 18+

Warnings: Handjob, Incredibly inexperienced Hunter, First orgasm, First time Masturbating, Reader acts as a 'Teacher' to Hunter, Hunter may be slightly OOC but shouldn’t be too bad (he’s just a bit more submissive than normal)

If you don’t like, don’t read! It’s better for both you and me!!

Request Box: OPEN

As fluffy as smut could get

Word count: 1713

A/N: This was originally going to be NSFW HC's for Hunter but as you can see it turned into a small fic! If the writing style shifts part way through that's the reason why! This is set POST time skip when hunter’s 18

Not Beta read, We die like flapjack; could have missed some mistakes.

As we all know by now, Hunter really isn't familiar with the common concepts of affection or love. So something mildly sexual, let alone sex, is a completely foreign concept to him.

So foreign that if you started dating when he was still the Golden Guard, chances are you wouldn't have had any kind of sexual encounter with him due to him being overworked and generally touch-starved. 

It honestly wouldn't surprise me if he didn't even know what sex was as most of the information he learns comes from Belos, who,  being from the 1600’s, definitely has a warped view of sex. So him not wanting his “nephew” to be tempted by the desires of lust isn't all that surprising.  

But when he's free from Belos and living in the Human Realm is when he starts getting more open with you. 

It starts slow, he gives more kisses than usual, then he starts letting you hold him longer, closer.

He basically starts getting all clingy, and he's not really sure why. 

He thinks it's because he just really loves you (which is true) but in reality,  he’s just starting to get really horny after being touch starved for so long. 

Then eventually, you two are cuddling on the couch in the living room watching some movies. You both have been left to keep watch of the house while Camila, Vee, and the Hexside Quartet went out to buy groceries. 

Them being out of the house meant free hugs without any teasing from them, which was perfect for Hunter. So now here you two were, cuddling up in a blanket, watching a, honestly pretty boring movie marathon on TV.

Feeling a tad bit sleepy you lean further into Hunter’s chest, snuggling into the soft form beneath you. 

“I love you…” You Yawn out. 

His Ears darken with blush before he nodded.. 

He hasn't said I love you back yet, but it's fine for you, you know the kind of upbringing he's had, I love you's definitely weren't common place. 

Hunter’s face falls deeper and deeper into a crimson blush, the weight of your body, the warmth of your body is so close.

It's already way past the point of when His body gets a “tingling” feeling with you. He still has no idea what causes it or what it means.

Suddenly he feels you shift and let out a noise of discomfort.

“Are you ok, Y/n?” He asks, his voice low

“Yeah! Don’t worry Hunter, i uh, just felt something firm poke me and I was surprised hehe…” You chuckle awkwardly raising up to face him. 

Hunter’s confused “Something Firm?”

“Yeah, uh… there.” you point

Slowly, his magenta eyes follow the invisible line connecting your pointing finger and this “firm” thing, until eventually they land right on the bulging tent in his sweatpants.

He quickly covers his bulge with a pillow. 

“S-Sorry I didn't mean- This doesn't normally happen when we-” He stampers over his words

“Hey hey, don't worry Hunter, it's no big deal” He feels you lightly caress his cheek. 

Despite his face feeling hotter than the boiling sea, he calms down a little.

“Here, I can step out for a few so you can take care of it”  He sees you begin to leave

“Take care of it? What… Do you mean?” He asks sheepishly. 

He watches as you look at him in surprise. 

“You know.. Relieve it? By..  masturbating… “ You say awkardly.

“Mastur…bate?” Hunter says confused

He watches you walk back over and sit beside him

“Have you really never done that?”

He nods his head, more than a little embarrassed

“Well what do you normally do when it happens?”

“I just… Wait till it stops, it usually happens when I'm asleep and when i wake up it's already like this..”

He thinks back to all the times he would be late to training, meetings, and other Golden Guard business thanks to his ‘problem’ most mornings.

You both sit in silence before he hears 3 words leave your mouth

“I can help..”

He jumps back slightly 

“But only if you want me too… I would never touch you without your permission, you know that…”

 you pause 

“I can show you how to masturbate so that you will know how in the future…”

He thinks for a moment before nodding his head at you, “Ok Y/n, I trust you, please show me..” 

He slowly moves the pillow from his crotch revealing the tent in his gray sweatpants. He sees you smile warmly before you get to work.

Your light fingertips move to gently hold his face as you kiss him, freckling them all over. 

He watches you beneath him, slowly lowering yourself from the couch to the floor of the living room, your hands slowly making their way down his body as you plant your kisses, before they stop at the waist line of his pants.

He watches you pull back and look him in the eyes before asking

“Are you sure?” He nods sheepishly again. Slowly your fingertips creep under the elastic of his sweats before pulling them down in one toff motion.

From his sweats, Hunter’s Hard-on springs up, standing at full mass. Hunter looks away as deep crimson shades his face.  Having his ‘privates’ out in full view was the last thing he thought would ever happen, but here he was.

Hunter is afraid to see your reaction, but what makes him even more afraid is that he hasn't even heard you react yet. Slowly, he looks down to see your almost surprised reaction.

“Is… is it ok?” Hunter Asks, “N-normal i mean..” If he knew nothing about sex and masturbation, He certainly didn't know if his ‘privates’ were the same as other people his age or if he somehow differed. On top of that, being a Grimwalker came with many health related questions, this being one of them.

Hunter quickly calms down when you give him that soft smile and say, “Completely normal, and completely perfect.”

Your hand leisurely makes its way to his hard-on before your fingers wrap around it,

Hunter shutters at the touch and his back straightens “F-Feels good…”

“Good Hunter, just relax..” he feels your other hand knead his thigh soothing him to lay back.

Your hand begins moving up and down his shaft, your grip tightening and loosening every so often. Hunter’s voice began to come out, what were soft moans began to develop into loud groans that filled the room. 

“Y/n so g-good…” 

You sped up your hand at his words, “Try to pay attention to how I'm doing it ok? So You'll know later for later.“

Hunter nods his head, half lidded eyes watch down at you fisting his hard-on. The way your soft hand feels on his shaft, the wet slapping sound with each pump, it was all so much for him

“You’re leaking so much pre Hunter, you must really be backed up, huh?”

“P-Pre?” he moans out 

“Precum. It's what’s making your cock so slippery as I stroke it.”

“C-Cock?” All of this, all of this pleasure, this… experience, was really too much for him. 

You laugh “You really have a lot to learn Hunter,” You slowly lean up to his pointed ears,

 “Good thing I'm a good teacher.” you whisper seducticly.

With that, a knot in his stomach was tightening up rapidly, a feeling he has never felt before, to him it felt similar to anxiety, the anticipation of something you know will happen, but you're unsure what it is.

“Y/n! Something’s happening- it feels weird- I think we should stop-” 

He warns and tries to stop your hand pumping his cock but is stopped by your other hand holding his firmly. 

You quickly lean into him and begin kissing him. You start stroking faster, the slapping of wet skin echoed throughout the room as well as Hunter’s muffled moans.

Finally… the knot snaps, his body begins shaking, sending waves of pleasure through Hunter’s body. Hunter’s cock shoots load after load out, squirting on his stomach and your hand, as well as on the couch. The whole time you don't let up stroking his dick, making sure to pump as much of his cum out. 

After what feels like an eternity for Hunter, but couldn't have been a few seconds, his droopy eyes look down at you, exhausted.

“What… Was… that?” He huffs deep breaths inbetween words

“That was an orgasm or “cumming” and this is sperm or cum” you hold up your hand covered in the warm whitish clear liquid.

Hunter tiredly looks around noticing the mess on the couch and him

‘I… did all this?”

“Mhm, you must have been so bottled up” you give him a kiss on the cheek

“I need to clean it up before… Luz and the others… get back-'' Hunter says, huffing through his words as he tries to pull himself up but his body doesn't let him.

“Hey hey Buddy, shhh” You grab his head an softly lay him back

 “After such a big load, not to mention your first, you’re clearly spent out of energy. Let me do it, ok?”

“But-”

“Nope. No buts” You kiss him. “Wait here”

You leave before returning with some towels and some of Hunter’s spare clothes, you began cleaning the cum off the couch and your cum covered hand, then slowly, you undress Hunter out of his dirty clothes and help him into some new ones, before throwing them into the washing machine and turning it on.

You return to Hunter, who at this point is nearly fully asleep. You slowly ease onto the couch with him, he feels the soft weight of your body rest on his, he tiredly moves his arms to embrace you, as you pull a blanket over the two of you.  

“Thank you Y/n… for making me feel… so good.” He says, clearly in between a state of consciousness and asleep.

“Of course, anytime Hunter.” You kiss his chest

“I..” He starts, you look up at him

“I love you Y/n…” He says before fully drifting off into sleep

You snuggle further into his chest, closing your drowsy and love-stuck eyes.

“I love you too Hunter”

[emojellyace08]

Lookism Men x Female Reader "Their types on a woman" PART 2

A/N: Thanks for the request @misasdeathwish! Here's an another part of it and I'll probably make a part 3 for this since I really enjoy this (series?) so much. And also thanks for 55 followers!!! I really appreciate you guys for following my blog it means so much to me, so here's another post hope you like it! Genre: Fluff☁️and slight angst? (for everyone) WARNINGS: family issues, slight mentions of assault, and a bit sad

Hudson Ahn (Ahn Hyun-Seong)

Considering how much passion in fighting this guy have I bet that that's how his type on a woman is.

A girl doesn't have to be super physically strong completely just for Hudson to get to like them. I headcannon that just like Jay, Hudson can't handle whiny girls and causes lots of high school dramas. But girlish or not, if a woman has good morals, a good perspective in life and hardworking enough to reach her goals and dreams in life I think Hudson's attention will turn his focus on you.

It makes it even better to get a bit closer to him if you know martial arts and you still you use it in a responsible way. Business is just business. If your job is to take down anybody who gets in your way, you got to prepare your knuckles for some fight just to finish it.

So imagine saving Hudson and his gang when they get into a fight with some other mfs, he and his crewmates will be definitely surprised on a girl having the balls (well actually having no balls) to confront his enemies. It's not that he's thinking that girls can't fight and stand up for themselves. He's thinking on why you're helping him when he can fight for himself and getting into someone else's business. "Who is this hot chick over here?" a tall and skinny man cooed as his eyes trailed down your figure while rubbing his chin. "Sorry, I was on my way home just saw you beating up these poor dudes". "HEY! WE AIN'T POOR KIDS WE CAN FIGHT FOR OURSELVES!" a man with a baby face and curly black hair with yellow stripes/strands of hair shouted back at you while his nose is bleeding. "I'm the Sun of Ansan. I can't just lose like this or else I'm putting Taesoo Ma, my master's name out of shame" a blonde haired man replied while standing up. Feeling a dark aura surrounding the male, you smirked as you feel his fighting spirit getting back to beat the hell out of these creeps. "Since it's been a while since I kicked someone's ass, I think this should be a good exercise". you stated as you smiled widely and cracking your knuckles getting hyped up for the fight "You should go home and don't get involved in somebody else's business. It's my fight." "Sorry boo I just got here so I can't go home just yet". He was about to refuse when one of the opponents chose to attack him. With you being aware of your surroundings, you immediately kicked the high dude on his face making him fall on the ground. And the rest is history.

Well after all the fighting, his crewmates managed to convince Hudson to join you on their team. "C'mon Hudson! She's a good fighter she can be a good human weapon!" Jacky begged with those puppy ass eyes while it sparkled like stars. "He's right. She can be a great side member when we're off for other businesses." the tattooed male replied back as Hudson sighed finally giving in for their requests. Despite not wanting to add more members in his crew (since most of them are a headaches), he admits that your fighting skills is above average. Though what he worries about is about your attitude. Since the others are all childish and too prideful, he worries is that if you're like that too he would be bothered to join you in their team.

So he tries to approach you before you leave, him awkwardly talking about how his crew gain lots of money and if you're interested in it. "SORRY! I'm not making money out of illegal stuff!" you denied his offer with a smile but the curly black-haired dude keep pushing you so you got no choice I guess. So if you're part of his crew up until the end that it got destroyed because of Daniel Park, I think Hudson will start to realize on how you managed to stay loyal on him even when he knows that he's probably going to lose on this match. And that's how he started liking you. It's because of your loyalty and you believing on himself that he can be much more stronger. And that what makes him strive for more success. It's for you and Taesoo, the most important people in his life to be proud of him.

If you're not the type to know about fighting, I think that him saving you from a man trying to assault you in a different bar will make you interested in him after his crew got disbanded. He'll convince you that you should never come back in places like this since he knew from himself how these things happen all the time in the illegal side of his business before. So it makes him a bit guilty about all the horrible things he have done before. And if you coincidentally saw him again beaten up and you took him to the hospital or cure his wounds, he might show an interest in you (I swear this men likes babying them so much they just won't admit). His ideal date would just be probably cuddling and staying at home ;)

Overall hype him up, be passionate about your goals and dreams in life, and being loyal and honest can bring out the best of him.

Eli Jang (Jang Hyun)

Is it weird that I put Eli next to Hudson? lol. But seriously blonde Eli? I simp

Considering how this male went through so much things in his life, expect him to like someone who will be always there for him no matter how things turn upside down. His life is full of trauma and since his parents (his father passed) and how his step-mother don't really care about him forcing him to turn back and run away hoping that things will get better. But things turned worse when he's exposed to all the gangs and doing bad things like stealing and fighting at a very young age. When he met Warren, Sally and the rest of the gang he thought everything will be great but it all went wrong when Heather passed away everything fell apart. He felt that his whole life everything is just a tragedy to him and Eli felt that everything won't find true happiness until Yenna is born and when he met you.

It was in J-High when he moved schools to start a new life for himself and his daughter. Most girls were interested in him since he's good looking and as much as he appreciates their compliments, he mostly wants to focus on himself before getting to date someone. It's not even his priority since the last time he truly thought that he finally met his perfect soulmate, the worst things have gotten. But he changed his mind when you caught his attention. Your attentiveness in class and your will to help others will always make him turn his head around just to look at you. And the fact that you befriended out of pure kindness him makes his stomach grumble and feel butterflies. Sure, you wouldn't deny that he looks majestic. But the thing is you got more interested in him since despite the smile that he's trying to show to everybody, he always looks tired and sad (you can see it in his eyes). So you thought befriending him might not be a bad idea.

Like some Lookism guys, he will be a bit hesitant at first at making friends with anyone because of his trauma is consuming him for not being strong enough to take care of the people who he cherishes the most and he's thinking that you just probably wanted a date. But you proved him wrong. Your calm spirit and voice helps him ease his mind a lot. Your happy and go lucky personality makes him remind of Heather the most. So slowly but surely, he'll get used to your presence even craving and looking for you sometimes when your not present. I also headcannon that he's definitely the type to like mature and understanding women. Since he needs (or tries) to be independent throughout his childhood and not experience freedom, a whiny and immature someone can turn him off the most. After getting to know you more and able to build a special connection with you he'll definitely open about his issues/struggles in life and about his daughter (please don't discriminate him for it).

Eli would be probably into more of the soft and quiet women too. Bonus points if you know how to do household chores like cooking, cleaning the house etc. since being a single dad can be hard. Eli have to balance his school life and focus all his homework on time while taking care of Yenna and making sure she's safe is a stressful challenge. So having someone who can help him babysit the little girl is something that he'll appreciate so much. Though it's okay that if his someone doesn't know how to cook since he knows the struggles of it and it can be a great quality time for the both of you learning different recipes! (but it can be a bit disastrous at times lmao). What matters is that you don't stress yourself of taking care of the child. He doesn't like seeing you tired and it's definitely not a requirement for you to take care of Yenna since you have to study too. Though his trust for you will gain more if you insist to take care of the little girl (and you tried your best to be a mother figure).

Though at times, his past issues about Heather can get into his relationship. If you noticed that he often talks about the girl all the time, please be patient and understanding about it. You can talk about it with him without letting your negative emotions getting in the way. If you let your jealousy get into you first, this can form a BIG MISUNDERSTANDING between the two and I mean it. He'll probably think that you don't understand him enough and it can tore your relationship apart.

And after the 4 major crews got active to rip families and friendships apart, Eli is afraid to hurt everybody especially you, Yenna, and his family. So when joining the Workers is the only "solution" for Yoojin to not destroy Hostel, you immediately try to stop him but he knows he can't turn back now. Your caring personality is also one of the reasons he loves you, though he felt like he doesn't deserve it. You gotta thank Vasco for bringing Eli back home again.

Be understanding, helpful, and patient with Eli hon. Form an amazing relationship with him and his family that he never got to experience. And Yenna might even call you Mama!

Warren Chae (Chae Won Seok)

A devoted simp lmao.

Headcannon: Warren likes shorter and cute girls (And having the same age as him don't think that way>:(. Though after some time, realizing that a sweet, positive and a helpful girl actually catches his attention more (plus being short and cute is a win for him). Warren would also be into mature yet a bit playful women. He really likes it when he gets a cute reaction out of someone he like when he's easing them and he gets really flustered when his someone flirts back.

So imagine just meeting him at school and him saving you from the other thugs AHHHHHHH. The moment he saw you getting harassed by those fuckers, he can't help but to feel the urge to protect you. Who the hell treats a girl like that?

He was on the way home with Eli, Sally and Heather when he notices you getting blocked in the way by other teenagers from the other university. As much as you want to get away from this mess, the old-looking students won't let you go. "Aww c'mon let's go to my house and grab some beer". An wrinkly-faced guy embraced your shoulder just to pull you closer to him which makes you uncomfortable. "So-sorry I-I'm good" you gulped harshly as the three men keeps whistling and making pouty faces insulting you. "Sorry miss if you don't complied we will have to keep bother-" "Oi, what the fuck (are you doing?)" a familiar male voice shouted as you turned around to see if it's really him. "The All Mighty Warren Chae". You heard about him and in fact, he's your classmate and he's one of the most known trouble maker in your school. Not only he can't finish his sentences full, he doesn't also finish doing his homework (You weren't close anyways). He's also with three unfamiliar people who are probably in another campus. "Hey is he your boyfriend? I'll go talk to him". "Hey wai-" you tried to stop the skinny dude and now he's face to face with Warren. "Are you her boyfriend? Sorry if I was hitting on your girl but she's mine now". he smirked clearly insulting and challenging the other male. "Nah, (if you try to harass a girl) you gotta fight me". Warren replied while unconsciously not finishing his sentence. As the skinny dude tries to land a punch on him Warren easily blocked his move and punched him to the ground beating the guy down (getting what he deserves).

And that's how you met and became friends with the Hostel. You got close to everybody especially with the guy who saved you, heck you even talk to Olly Wang. You'll also teach him about grammar when you have extra time so he can construct his sentences well not only on the assignments but also when he's talking. Your helpful and generous personality is enough to make Warren burst. He really appreciates it when you help him through his complications and you being patient and understanding about it makes him less insecure about his disability. And that what makes him love himself more and try to get stronger to protect you and his family. You will always visit your friends and sometimes sleep on their place (even if it's a bit messy). You'll also help them clean up and you'll always bring their favorite food especially Warren's. I also headcannon that he likes clingy and cuddly women. Though he will always ask for consent if you're willing to hug or kiss him back.

But not everything and everyday is all about rainbow and unicorns. Everything went wrong when the adults find about Hostel and with Heather getting pregnant and passing away from labor. It even got worst when Eli ran away again. You have to move out from another city to start a "fresh life" because your parent/s got so worried for being involve into "low-standard" run-away teenagers which is far from truth. And no matter how much you want to protest to them, you can't do anything and you have to get through the burden of it.

But when you find out that you study with Eli at the same school, you get to make contact with him but it was a really hard task. First he tries to avoid you at all cost thinking that Sally or Warren contacted you to follow him and convince him to get back to Hostel. But with great communication and understanding with one another, you and Eli started being friends again and you managed to have contact with Hostel again after a few months (years rather). You're really excited to meet Warren again and that you hugged him a bit too tight making him and Sally chuckle. "Warren! I missed you so much!" you cried as your arms wrapped around his waist which he doesn't mind (he even loves it). "I-I missed you too." he replied while blushing back loving your warmth that brings him comfort. "YOU COMPLETED YOUR SENTENCE!" "(I've) Been studying (reading)." "At least you're getting better now, little boo!" you gleefully smiled as he kissed your forehead. He knows that it's dangerous for you to be involve with him especially when all the drama about the 4 major crews are getting a bit spicier and heated. But can he just enjoy this moment for a while? To hug and cuddle with you and forget the world in just a moment?

If you really like Warren, be understanding about his condition. Also having a warm and positive vibe around him can make his heart melt.

Johan Seong (Seong Yohan)

Not really clingy but he still cares about you if you're not too much of a bothersome.

If you know Johan before the cult incident or if you're childhood friends with him along with Zack and Mira, he'll be more open and awkward around you. Since he's really shy around this time he's still developing himself as a whole. He wants to get strong like Zack as he always watches him do boxing. Yet when he tries to stand up for himself from the bullies he still get defeated which makes him feel unworthy. Though if you saw him getting bullied as you tried to stand against the other kids, he'll start to see you as an inspiration. An emotionally strong women can really catch his attention.

The thing that he calls admiration soon becomes deeper as he explores your personality even more. If you're accepting and understanding even on the smallest things he'll literally develop a crush on you. You may be still be developing as a child (same age as him), but your good set of morals makes him inspired to do better in life not only for you and himself but most especially his mom.

But things took a bad turn when the cult incident happened. And the addition of his mom loosing her eyesight and getting involved/addicted to drugs stresses him out the most. He just wants the best for her and his friends too. And he hates it when you and Mira get hurt by other people. That's why his fueling rage and anger makes his way to encourage himself to be strong. Stronger than Zack, stronger than anybody. That's why no matter how he thought that it'll be toxic for him to just leave you and his family without any words or context, he felt like he has to. To protect you and find a cure for his mom.

Of course his sudden leave will make you devastated. And after some years, as hurtful as it sounds he'll probably start forgetting abut you since he's focused on the major crew business. But after his crew disbandment and lost, he's probably going to meet you without plans on a food stand (considering how much this guy loves food). He would panic and pretend that he's just a random stranger but your gut feeling got the best of you and you'll ask him if he's the boy you're looking for. Of course he'll deny it at first but seeing his sweet someone will make him iresistent. He misses you no matter how hard he tries to deny it. And when he goes to visit his mom (without her knowing it's her son since she's getting blind), she'll always tell him about you on how you always take care of her especially if you have free times. Johan likes helpful women especially in household chores just like Eli and if his someone/crush also takes care of his mom she's definitely his type on women too just like Daniel.

He has to explain to you that once this is all over and his mom's eyes got better he'll come back to your hometown and back to you. But it still hurts you Johan suffering from all of this when all you want is for him to be happy.

If you haven't met him in his childhood, he'll definitely be more cold and reserved. He won't give a damn about everybody (except his mom and his friends ofc) but women? He doesn't have time for them especially the loud ones. But if you're the emotionally matured and understanding type he'll definitely have an interest for you (despite him denying it).

Even if he's not a clingy person, your caring, gleeful and emotionally strong personality can make him relax a bit from all this chaos. Just ask him for a good and warm hug and he'll sigh and open his arms for you (he secretly likes it trust me).

A/N: WHEWW! Johan, Hudson and Warren are so hard to write for! (It's my first time writing about them so please don't judge it too much lol) Eli is much easier since I can express my way of writing more to emotionally unwell characters. But feel free to give some criticisms if you're not satisfied!

Looking for Jake, Gun, Goo, and Sinu one? Part 3 will be coming up ;)

[kykyonthemoon]

Limerence (noun) — a mental state of profound romantic infatuation, deep obsession, and fantastical longing.

⋆˚✿˖° This chapter is a part of a mini-series of dark fairy tales and romance sets in another universe. It consists of three chapters, each with a Male Lead and is separated from one another.

⋆˚✿˖° Character x Reader/MC, from another (OC's) point of view. Reader/MC's pronounce is "she/her/hers".

⋆˚✿˖° Warnings & tags: 16+, MDNI, angst, hurt, thriller, emotional and mind control, manipulation, love spell, obsession, unrequited love, major character death, dark fantasy, dark fairy tale, m.urder, s.uicide attempt.

⋆˚✿˖° Leonard is my OC.

⋆˚✿˖° Read more chapters:

✦ Xavier's ✦ Zayne's

⋆˚✿˖° Masterlist

⋆˚✿˖° My friend Cery made an art for this fic here: x

Chapter: The Muse — in which he brings the world his most significant work of art.

⋆˚✿˖° Word count: 3k1

These days, the artist community was vibrant, with some even competing for acceptance to the exhibition at Mo Art Studio.

So did Leonard. He had to rush around and ask for help everywhere in order to be given a chance. Money was not an issue, but the host of this exhibition was certainly not an ordinary person. He wasn't offering tickets to the highest bidder, but rather to those who possessed an artistic vision and passed his evaluation.

“The ticket will be sent to you within the next three days. Please keep in touch.” The other end of the line cut the discussion off, but Leonard's mind remained lightheaded, unable to believe the gift he had just received.

“Wait…” He spoke before the other person hung up. “Excuse me… May I do an interview with that artist in the exhibition?”

There was no response. Leonard believed they were reviewing his proposal. He held his breath and wait for a while, then the manager named Thomas spoke:

“We do not accept interviews. But a few individual queries could suffice. Of course, if you are able to leave a good impression.”

"I got it. Thank you."

Putting the phone aside, Leonard leaned back in his office chair. How to impress Linkon's most talented painter, or should he say - the world's best artist? Despite his young age, there was no one in this city who had never heard of his work.

The artist's name was Rafayel. He became well-known for his landscape paintings, which brought admirers to a dreamlike state when they stood in front of them. He seldom appeared in public, despite having organized hundreds of major and minor exhibitions. Who he truly was remained a question, and the most mysterious part was probably his disappearance a year ago.

For a whole year there were no new paintings or art activities. No one saw him in Linkon during that time. His manager and studio kept it silent, as if everything had evaporated overnight. Then, last weekend, he unexpectedly reappeared and made an important announcement, which was an exhibition called The Muse.

In contrast to his previous events, guests had no idea what they were about to witness. According to the majority of internet comments, Rafayel returned with a work of a lifetime, a painting that exceeded anything he had ever created. That was the final result of a year-long hunt for inspiration. Of course, there were those who believed he was steadily degrading since he hadn't been able to draw anything decent in a long time and had simply planned this event to earn some money.

For Leonard, either truth was fair. He must uncover all of the details and secrets surrounding Rafayel's reappearance. Since that was what he did for a living.

Leonard was a journalist who specialized in arts. Despite his greatest efforts over several years, he still had little hope of succeeding. He had been without a single decent piece for a long time. Then the opportunity to visit the Mo Art studio presented itself before his eyes. He was not going to miss the chance to see a place that had never been accessible to the public before.

The day of the exhibition approached. Leonard had purposefully showed up early, but as he reached the gate, he noticed that about fifty formally dressed guests were already present. They were enjoying wine and food as they walked in groups into the main hall, where the primary event was held. Leonard also entered with nervousness. All of the windows and doors were wide open, allowing the sea air to convey a salty fragrance into the hallway. Rafayel's famous works are framed, and hung or placed in the center of a floral garden that the host tenderly arranged himself, giving guests the impression that they had just lost themselves in the Garden of Eden.

However, that was not the primary attention of the event. Something massive and cylindrical appeared in the center of the hall. It spanned from the ground to an exceedingly high glass ceiling. It had a diameter of up to ten meters, and was covered in a crimson velvet fabric, protecting it from inquisitive eyes of guests. Even the personnel had not an idea of what was inside.

"Rafayel did all of this himself." Thomas, the manager, spoke up. "I can't answer your questions because I'm not sure what's there. But whatever it is, it will undoubtedly live up to the name of his Muse."

The flock of intrigued guests around Thomas nodded, then split out to stroll around and admire the pillar, as if its very presence was already an art. To them, the less they comprehended something, the more valuable it became.

Leonard found a seat close to the window but not too far from the center of the hall. He was afraid of missing the opportunity to witness Rafayel's Muse. Late in the afternoon, the sun glided across the horizon, casting golden rays into the place. The guests began to get tipsy, wondering if Rafayel would show up or if this was all a hoax, when, down the stairs, the host of the party appeared.

He donned a lavish dark blue suit with sculpted sleeves and shoulders that looked to be encrusted with spectrum fish scales. His presence was as magnificent as his name, causing the entire hall to fall silent. Guests held their breath as they watched the young artist stroll down the steps, the heels of his shoes reverberating on the marble floor as if a piece of music had just been executed.

“Welcome to the exhibition.” Rafayel spoke in a solemn voice. "It appears that all of the guests here are wondering; what exactly has he been doing during the past year? Why didn't he present any of his new work? What's the point of this exhibition?"

Rafayel halted for a moment, his dark eyes behind a few purple curls scrutinizing each guest individually, as if reading them all. The corner of his mouth twisted up in delight as he effectively piqued everyone's interest. He resumed his speech:

“It all began with a muse. My muse. That's a story perhaps a lucky visitor would unveil in this exhibition. But for now…” Rafayel lifted a hand. “Let me introduce you to my one and only, Muse.”

The scorched cloth transformed into crimson tiny particles that flew all about, blending into the fiery sunset outside. The crimson sun halted in the center of the room's largest window, and emerged as an illusion was Rafayel's Muse.

Leonard blinked. In front of him stood a tank of water with a thick glass cylinder. The inside was ornamented with flowers, coral, and white pillars of broken plaster encircling an oval of the glass tank, offering him the sense that he was staring at a lost city under the depths of the ocean. There were schools of brilliant small fish swimming around, weaving between the crevices of the broken world. In the midst of the tableau, there was a woman floating in the water in an upright stance, a few meters above the tank's bottom, conveying an illusion that she was flying. Her head was adorned with pearl jewelry, eyes were closed, as if she was in deep slumber. Her hands opened, allowing the orange-red fish to whirl around her wrists. Then they invited each other to swim along her tiny unclothed arms, to her exquisite neck covered in shimmering pearls, and down to the thin white garment that was floating in the water like her own body. Her bare feet lingered above the seaweed, as if to tease them with the fact that they were unable to grasp her no matter how hard they tried.

A beauty out of this world. That was what Leonard's mind could think of. When he came here, he was full of determination to discover Rafayel's secret, but now, when he witnessed its beauty with his own eyes, he was speechless. His brain felt empty, as if that beauty had filled it and he no longer needed anything else. A melodic rhythm could be heard somewhere, distant seemingly from another universe, but apparently emanating from the tank itself.

All guests were drawn to the center. Rafayel vanished among the crowd that was cheering him. Nobody suspected that Rafayel's Muse was not a painting but an entirely distinct thing. Whatever it was, she was the size of an adult in her mid-twenties. A statue or a doll that resembled a real person?

Leonard brushed past a few astonished others to get closer to the tank. Rafayel's exhibit could easily shock the entire art field. Leonard had already begun pondering concepts for his next piece. Unlike the other guests, who were merely engaged in the beauty in front of them, he was more enthralled by the narrative behind The Muse.

Who was she? Where did her story begin? Leonard sought around for Rafayel's silhouette but could not find him. However, near the stairs, he encountered Thomas with a look of panic and utter shock on his face.

“It can't be… No… It can't be her…” Those were the words Leonard could hear before Thomas bolted out of the hall.

There were just a few people invited to the show, and after approximately an hour, they had presumably spent all of their admiration and hypothesis on the tank. They met again in groups to tour Rafayel's studio. Who knows when they would be able to return here again, in ten, twenty, or even fifty years?

Leonard took advantage of the reality that people had left the area to approach closer and examine more, now that he was the only one standing nearby. The Muse was still inside, a smile on her lips, but why did Leonard feel a suffering coming from her? He strolled around the tank to better view her. It was hard to discern whether this was in fact a sculpture by Rafayel or a real person. That was also what the guests spoke about all day.

The Muse was so genuine. To the point that Leonard expected her to open her eyes and climb out of the tank. But she remained still, absorbed in her own undersea world. He stayed frozen, unable to move his gaze away from the tank, for Rafayel had previously stated that within this, his secrets hidden.

Yet Leonard, with his mundane eyes, might never discover it. The only thing he found was possibly a tiny coating of pinkish red water coming from The Muse's breast. That ruby hue seeped through the attire that enveloped her, and it looked nothing like the color that Rafayel often used in his paintings. There was something rather odd about it. It resembled blood, from The Muse herself.

The exhibition came to an end.  Guests departed on their own after being notified. Rafayel returned to the lobby. Leonard took the opportunity to ask in an instance:

“Mr. Rafayel. May I ask you a few questions regarding the exhibition?

Rafayel gazed at him. To increase his reputation, he identified himself as a journalist who specialized in writing about art.

"Ah. "I remember you." Rafayel responded. "Among the guests, you were the only one who gave an impressive answer to my question."

Leonard tried to recall the survey he was required to complete before Thomas reached him to inform he had an invitation. These questions were all about Rafayel's career, and the answers were readily accessible online. There was just one question, the last one, that sparked a lot of consideration in Leonard, while having nothing to do with Rafayel's works at all.

"If you were given a magical spell that made the person you love love you forever, would you use it?" Rafayel reiterated his query. "You're the only one who chose not to."

Leonard nodded. It was truly what he had said.

"May I know, why?" Rafayel glanced at him with curiosity. Leonard was taken aback, as he had come here expecting to be an interviewer. Who would have guessed it was the other way around?

"A spell is just an illusion." Leonard responded honestly. "That is not love." "Love must come from a true heart."

"A true heart…" Rafayel repeated each word. His eyes were as sorrowful and deep as the tranquil water, yet it was terrifying since he had no idea when the storm would arrive. "Perhaps, she would choose the same answer as you."

"Pardon?…" Leonard interrupted Rafayel's thoughts. "Who are you talking about?"

Rafayel smiled but remained silent. Fearing that the young artist might leave without answering, Leonard impatiently said:

“Aren't you talking about your Muse? Can you tell me who she is?”

Rafayel gazed at the girl in the aquarium. He smiled. Just a small movement of the lips conveyed devotion, anguish, and regret.

"She is my true heart." Rafayel's voice resembled a song. But he said nothing more, and Leonard was asked to leave right away.

The Muse's story was forever a mystery. The mystery that Leonard had yet to come very close.

That story began a year ago. Or perhaps, it had originated a long, long time ago.

When a Lemurian gives their heart to someone, it will die if not reciprocated.

Rafayel had given his to a human girl.

He met her when she was a child. She was his savior when he was expecting such a painful death on land, and she helped him return to the sea.

She could not remember who he was, nor did she know that all those years, he had been watching her from afar. Amid the waves, behind the rocks, he watched her grow up.

He met her again as a painter many years later. She happily accepted his company. But it was not all he wanted. He longed for her. He craved her touch to make her become his, in the way he had determined his heart belonged to her.

But, her heart belonged to someone else.

A year ago, she told him that she was getting married.

Rafayel could not recall how frightening his emotions were. No matter how powerful the storms were at sea, they could never match his rage at the time. And, with a dreadful calamity brewing in his head, he did what he did to her.

He bound her with an ancient Lemurian enchantment. He made her fall desperately in love with him. She did everything for him, even abandoning her engagement and following him to a far away place. A secluded island only for them. Glorious summer nights lingered forever on the beach, when she and he were entangled, merging in the waves of never-ending love. He had her how he wished.

However, like an illusion, that spell did not persist forever. It drove her to insanity. She wandered alone on the shore, tears streaming and her mouth constantly crying out the name of the person she truthfully loved with each sob. She begged of him.

“Rafayel… Please… Let me go… Please… set me free… Set me free!”

Her screams were drowned in the ocean waves. Little did she realize that seeing her in this way made his heart bleed as well.

"Please…" She sobbed. Rafayel's dagger was in her grasp, and she pressed it to her throat. "If you won't let me leave... I must free myself..."

"Hush now, my dearest…" Rafayel quietly stretched out to her. This was not her first time in this state. He approached her, placed a hand on her forehead, and brushed away her wind-blown hair. Her fingers on the dagger tightened, urging him to back away. However, Rafayel seized the blade that was cutting into her neck, forcing his hand to bleed.

"You don't want to cut yourself, dear."

She trembled and stared at Rafayel. He hummed a very familiar melody, which made her thoughts muddled once more. The dagger slipped from her hand as she collapsed to her knees on the damp beach. Screaming.

“Be still, dearest love.” Rafayel gently lowered down. His knees were next to hers, as if he, too, was begging her to stay. “I can ease all our suffering… If you listen to me now…”

She covered her ears and shook her head with ferocity as if she never wanted to hear another word from him. Rafayel smiled in bitter. She had been like this lately, forgetting who she was and how profoundly she was in love with him. But that was alright. He would help her rekindle her love. She would obey at once as soon as he began singing.

He sang their song. He sang it the first time they met, and he still sang it day by day with her by his side.

She wept tremendously. She clutched her head and pleaded with him to stop. But Rafayel could never. Just like he could not stop the waves from crashing against the shore, who could ever stop his love for her?

After a while, she became quiet. No more yelling and pleading. She gave him an empty stare and a smile.

"Rafayel." She called his name. Her hand found his body, as though she had desired to be close to him since forever. Rafayel embraced her. He stroked and kissed the top of her head. His tears sank, condensing into pearls and nestling on her hair.

“I'm sorry… I'm sorry for turning you into someone like this…” Rafayel whispered in her ear. “But I've found a way to fix everything. You shall not suffer any longer... And neither shall I..."

Rafayel held her with one hand as the other sought the dagger's hilt in the moist sand.

“Will you do this for me?”

He gazed into the eyes of hers which were dreamy under the spell of love. She nodded.

"I vow to do everything for my dearest beloved."

"Very good." Rafayel smiled as he kissed her lips. "You will always be my Muse… Mine, forever..."

The dagger swung across the fiery sunset. The water chanted its melody in an ancient ritual. Then everything fell silent.

Rafayel watched her passionately as she slept within the water tank he had specifically built for her. That was her home, now and forever.

His hand stroked across the beautiful design. Her body was adorned with jewelry crafted from his teardrops. She was a masterpiece of his lifetime, which extended to no end. His Muse. His lips found hers on the other side of the glass, and he pressed a kiss.

From now on, she would weep no more. She would feel no pain.

A crimson light emanated from inside the pocket near Rafayel's chest. He pulled out a blazing red protocore.

This entire world will soon know that, her true heart shall forever belong to him and him alone.

[cutielando]

hold me ~ justin foley

my masterlist

Pairing: Justin Foley x Female!Reader

The ringing of your phone made you look up from the notes you were reviewing for your big biology test that was coming up.

You took your phone and saw that it was Justin calling, making a smile appear on your face.

"Hey babe, what's up?" you said once you answered, your voice cheerful.

"Um, hi. Can I, um, uh, can I crash at your place tonight?" his voice was shaky, which immediately made you panic.

"Justin, what's going on? What happened?" you asked, the notes on your bed long forgotten.

"Can we talk at your place?" he asked, sniffling through the phone.

"Of course, of course. I'll be waiting for you"

"Thanks. I love you"

"I love you too, baby"

You hung up and immediately started gathering your study material and putting it on your desk, knowing you weren't going to get any more studying done that evening.

After you were finished, you made your way to your parents' room to let them know Justin was coming over and was going to spend some time at your house.

Your parents had loved Justin ever since the two of you started dating 2 years ago, so they were delighted Justin was coming over.

"Did he eat? Do you guys want dinner?" your mom asked, knowing that Justin's home situation was not the most ideal.

"I don't know, I didn't get to ask. I'll heat up some leftover pizza if he's hungry, we'll be fine" you said and just as you finished talking, the doorbell was heard.

You closed the door to your parents' room and bolted down the stairs, flinging open your front door.

Justin was standing there, his Jersey jacket on his hand and his bag flung over his shoulder. He had tried tears coating his cheeks, making your heart shatter more.

"Oh, baby" you muttered and pulled him into your house, locking the door behind you and enveloping him in your arms.

He let his bag fall to the floor as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, burying his head into your shoulder.

"Sh, it's okay, I'm here. Let it all out, you're safe with me" you kept whispering into his hear, rubbing soothing circles on his back and the back of his head.

His cries were muffled by your shirt, his whole body shaking in your hold.

Your heart was breaking for the poor boy currently breaking down in your arms. Nobody deserved to be going through what he was, such a sweet and gentle soul yet so damaged and broken at the same time.

After a while of just holding him, he finally managed to calm down, his cried turning into silent sobs and finally dying down completely.

"Did you eat?" you asked him softly, not wanting your voice to disturb the silence and peaceful atmosphere that enveloped the two of you.

"No, I didn't get around to it" he croaked out, his voice hoarse because of the crying.

"Come on, I heated up some leftover pizza for you. Let's get something in your stomach and then we'll go up to my room and talk, alright?" you were caressing his cheeks while you talked, his arms still wrapped tightly around your waist.

He nodded, not trusting his voice to speak up.

You unwrapped his arms from around your waist but took his hand in yours, pulling him to the kitchen. You knew he needed to feel your touch more than anything right now.

"This is good" he commented once he started eating the pizza, his voice still small but steady now.

"I know, I convinced my parents to get it from that new place that just opened up. The food is absolutely delicious there" you said while you ran your hands through his hair comfortingly.

He nodded but didn't say anything else, making silence envelop the spacious kitchen.

You kept your eyes on him, observing how he was avoiding making eye contact with you. You didn't know why, but figured it was because he would break down again if he looked at you. He tended to do that a lot.

"Come on, let's get you in bed" you said once he finished eating, putting his plate in the dishwasher and taking his hand.

He silently walked behind you, his steps light and silent as to not disturb your parents.

Once you were both in the privacy of your room, Justin took a seat on your bed and kept his gaze on the floor, not saying anything.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you asked him, taking a seat next to him on your bed and taking one of his hands in yours, intertwining your fingers with his.

He was quiet for a second before he raised his head to look at you.

"Meth Seth is back. He lost a grand of cash last week and he thinks I stole it from him. We got into an argument tonight and, well, I gathered all my shit and left" he said, his hurt now replaced with anger and defeat.

"Look at me, baby" you said as you raised your free hand to his face and cupped his cheek, making him look at you. "You're going to move here, permanently. I don't care what anyone says, your mom or Seth or anyone. I'm not letting you go back there ever again, do you hear me?"

He pursed his lips and nodded, his eyes filling with tears.

"I don't want to intrude. I don't want to be a bother to you or your parents" he started shaking his head, looking away from you.

"You, Justin Foley, are not a bother to us. My parents adore you, they are going to be thrilled to have you around constantly. Baby, you are so loved by them, they see you as their own son. Don't ever doubt how loved you are by this family, how much we want to keep you safe and sound, baby"

By now, tears were running down your cheeks as you looked at the broken boy before you. Justin was also crying, staring back at you, not believing what he was hearing.

He grew up without a father and with a junkie mother, a mother who never cared about his well-being as much as she cared for her boyfriends. A mother who never made him feel loved, cared for and happy, what any child should feel from their parents.

"I love you so fucking much, and I am so fucking grateful to have you in my life. You don't even realize how much you mean to me and how much I appreciate everything you and your parents have done for me. You've saved me, Y/N"

You pulled him into your arms and rested your head in the crook of his neck, both of you sobbing into each other.

"I love you so much, Justin Foley" you whispered in his ear, planting a kiss at the base of his neck.

"I love you, too. So much. Please, just hold me and don't let me go" he whimpered, wrapping his arms even tighter around your body, if that was even possible.

"I'm never going to let you go, baby. Never" you whispered back, reassuring both of you that you are never going to leave each other.

Your thoughts started to wonder on what your life was going to look from now on, but you shook them away.

For now, you were just going to hold your boy.

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[englass]

Concept/Title: Touch

Pairing(s): John Seed x Fem!Reader (because I was thinking of him when I started this, but—), Male!Character x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 402

Warning(s): NSFW/Explicit, Filth and Fluff, Implied Yandere? (was aiming for that originally but don’t think it completely carried through— oops)

A/N(s): I once famously said that Plains and Valleys would (very likely) be my only smut piece… As you can see, that’s now not quite true 🙈😅

-/-/-

You gasp, twitching in your prone position against the sheets. Held down gently by your lover as you keen high and reedy, his arm pinned across your abdomen as the fingers of his free hand curl inside you. Drawing out your orgasm and threatening to push you into another as he mouths at your cunt, tongue flat and firm against your clit as a satisfied growl rumbles in his chest.

The deep sound makes you clench tighter around his fingers, has you whining prettily for him as he rewards you with a teasing brush of his lips, a brief and gentle scrap of teeth against your sensitive skin.

God, you’re so gorgeous, he utters, voice wrecked between your thighs, so pretty for me like this; could watch you cum on my fingers all day. Fuck, I love you, —

Teeth sink into the meat of your thigh, a passionate bite that has you yelping as he suddenly thrust his fingers as deep as they can go with a growling snarl. Tears beading in the corners of your eyes at the sweet sting of overstimulation. Hand blindly grabbing at his wrist as you bite into the back of your other hand, barely stifling the almost tortured whine of his name.

I need you to cum for me again, he pants, sucking and worrying his tongue in a purposeful drag over the impromptu bite mark, Can you do that for me, sweetheart? You gonna be a good girl and cum for me, hm?

The tears run down the side of your face, writhing amongst the twisted sheets with a shake of your head. Wanting a reprieve from the onslaught of sensation against your sensitive skin.

No? Leaning close, bracketing you in under his sturdy form, his breath a hot caress against your ear and his thumb a soothing sweep across your tacky cheeks, brushing your tears away, Not even on my cock?

The offer makes you tighten around his fingers, whimper as that sting eases into something more, interest piqued as a new hunger curls low within your stomach.

You’ve been such a good girl for me. Doing so well taking my fingers, looking so pretty cumming on my tongue. Don’t you want more?

He moves down then back up. Lips kissing and brushing in a leisurely descent and climb over your stomach, chest, neck, jaw and cheek. Stopping once again to teasingly breath into your sensitive ear, Don’t you want me?

[thiagowrites]

warnings: angst with no comfort, people (2) die in here lol, 1363 words, description of death, brief mention of killing(?), no use of y/n, They/Them pronounce used

Also posted to my wattpad, part 1

I′m going under and this time I fear there's no one to save me

This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy

he had you back, yet he didnt. you were there but so far away. he had you physically but mentally you remained gone. the Simon he once was was still buried away, his guard high up again. you were lying there, still motionless, he was sitting there, still numb. he would always be without you, at least to the outside. in reality, he was drowning in pain but he didnt let anyone see. never again.

I need somebody to heal, somebody to know

Somebody to have, somebody to hold

It′s easy to say, but it's never the same

I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain

you helped numb his pain, helped him heal and now you were the cause of his pain. you were his rock, his shoulder to cry on but now you were gone. not physically, no, you were there, in the hospital bed across from him. They had found you but you were long gone. 638 days. that is how long he didnt see you, didnt smell you, didnt feel you, hold you. the you that he knew was gone, mere pieces remaining somewhere under all the bruises, under the blood, under the trauma. god, he hated himself for leaving you for almost 2 years. somewhere deep inside he also hated you, for making it so easy to love you.

Now the day bleeds into nightfall

And you're not here to get me through it all

I let my guard down, and then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

it had been 2 days since you got into the Hospital, and still no sign that you were gonna wake up. Simon was losing hope all over again, losing himself to alcohol and self-pity. drowning like he did when you were gone. he didnt know when night began and day ended, didnt leave your side for one minute scared that if he did, you were simply going to disappear out of the dark hospital room. It was only now when you were back that Simon realized just how much he was getting used to your love, he never knew what people meant when they told him: You only begin to cherish love when it leaves. until now. now he understood because you were his only love, and you were leaving him.

I′m going under and this time I fear there′s no one to turn to

This all or nothing way of loving got me sleeping without you

Simon never cared for others much, only your feelings mattered to him. he always told himself he was either going to love you with everything he had or he wasnt going to love you at all. so he did, he loved you to the best of his abilities. and now he was seeing where that got him.

Now, I need somebody to know, somebody to heal

Somebody to have, just to know how it feels

It's easy to say, but it′s never the same

I guess I kinda liked the way you helped me escape

Now the day bleeds into nightfall

And you're not here to get me through it all

I let my guard down, and then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

it has now been 2 weeks and you were still not awake. Simon got back into old habits, drowning himself in cigarettes and alcohol, trying to forget what the doctors told him. he was imagining you to get better, but that was all it was: his imagination. In reality, you were kept alive by machines for the past week. he told himself you were going to get better, that your body just needed more time, but with every passing day he lost hope, he came to the realisation that maybe your time had come, but did he want to believe it? no. No, he couldnt believe that so instead he kept lying to himself. Theyre getting better, theyll wake up, they wont leave me, they cant leave me I wont let them. These were his daily thoughts.

And I tend to close my eyes when it hurts sometimes

I fall into your arms

I′ll be safe in your sound 'til I come back around

it had been 4 months now. not since they found you, no, since the doctors told him there was no more life left in you, it had been 3 months and 16 days since he buried you 6 feet under the ground. since Ghost buried Simon with you. there was no light in Ghost's life anymore because you were his only light, he would have buried himself with you, and the only thing keeping him from doing that was John Price. so instead he closes his eyes and pretends, he pretends you never went missing. that the last 2 years of his life never happened. that he was here, in your arms.

For now the day bleeds into nightfall

And you′re not here to get me through it all

I let my guard down, and then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

The day of your funeral was the day he swore to himself he was never going to love anybody else, his heart only ever belonged to you. he wore you close to his heart, put your wedding band on a necklace and your dog tags always in his breast pocket. he spent his days working as much as he could to distract himself from the pain. this often got him cused out by Price but he couldnt take a break, he knew he would lose himself at the thought of you again.

But now the day bleeds into nightfall

And you're not here to get me through it all

I let my guard down, and then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

it has been a year since you passed, a year full of pain, darkness, and recovery for Ghost. he still hasnt moved on, and he never will be able to. the last year was spent finding information about the bastards who took you from him and today was the day, he had finally gotten revenge for your death. it didnt end ideal for him though, turns out that taking on an enemy all by yourself wasnt that easy. but he didnt care how much it hurt, he didnt care he disobeyed orders and he didnt care that he was bleeding out right now. because it was for you. anything he ever did was for you and only you. it all didnt matter to him because even though he always thought dying would be painful he found comfort in it, he didnt know if it was his mind playing tricks on him but the blood he lost warmed him, it reminded him of the warmth you once gave him. his mind got cloudy, vision being overtaken by black spots and it felt like he was falling into an ocean, the deep and dark water taking him in and not letting him go. he saw his life, all the pain and the lovely moments you created, flow before him. he saw you, looking amazing on your wedding day. he felt you, hugging him after he proposed to you in the middle of the field just when he thought he was never going to see you again. and he smelt you, oh that beautiful smell of you. and with all these senses of you and only you surrounding him, he took a deep breath, a breath that was going to be his last. he took it and with a smile on his face, he began his journey back to you. wherever that may be.

I let my guard down, and then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

[q-u-a-rantine-high-school]

Disrespectfully,

YOU NEED TO SPECIFY WHAT KIND OF READER IS IN YOUR FIC AT THE TOP OF THE FIC OR IN THE TAGS

I REPEAT, YOU NEED TO SPECIFY WHAT KIND OF FUCKING READER IS IN YOUR GODDAMN FIC

Thank you.

[etfrin]

⤷❝Can't be Shared | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | somnophilia, mentions of prostitution (Snow was going to 'share' you) cunnilingus, pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), possessive af Snow, impact play (he slaps your thigh once), ruined orgasm (you do cum in the end) | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Snow was going to share you with the elite of the Capitol but changed his mind halfway through only to have his way with you and make you the First Lady of Panem

⇢☾A/N: hehe, the longest fic I have writing so far, hope y'all enjoy this and reblog ;)

<masterlist> < bc: @cafekitsune >

He thought he would be okay with it. He was sure he would be okay with it. But he wasn't. Snow's blood boiled when the rich elitist of the capitol had begun to touch you, whisper you praises, and whatnot. The only thing that was going in his mind was his, his, his.

When had he gotten so attached, he wasn't supposed to be. Letting them touch you, and play with you was a strategic decision to get them hooked and you weren't meant to be his Queen but something had changed. Something snapping in him when the Capitols’ richest eyed you like a meal.

His jaw was clenched and he cleared his throat, “I changed my mind.” He said, “I am not sharing after all.”

You are his. His property. His bird locked in his cage and now his Queen. He pulled you closer, away from prying hands. He glared, memorizing the face of any and everyone displeased, thinking of plans of how to dispose of them quickly because even if briefly they had touched you that was a sin. No one taints the Queen but a King.

He cordially finishes dinner, keeping in mind he was a president, a newly appointed one at that even if he wanted to he couldn't drag you into his room and have his way with you. But he wanted to. His free hand is on your thigh, gripping it hard enough to leave a small bruise. His hold gets tighter the more he has to smile pretty and act polite.

You hadn't said a word, you weren't sure what to say. You were ready to be shared, used, and then discarded. Snow had told you of this beforehand, but he had changed his mind and you were grateful.

Even as he marked you, made you whimper with his grip, giving your thigh a warning squeeze to be quiet. You were relieved that he decided not to share. You were his, you liked that you were his.

Dinner took longer than you would have preferred, but when it finally came to an end, Snow leaned into you and whispered, “Be on my bed wearing my shirt and nothing else, my bird.”

You didn't reply. You get up, walking into his room, heat choking your veins and making your pussy ache and wet. You close the door as you reach the master bedroom of the manor.

Going into his closet you picked on a red shirt, knowing that it would match your skin tone well. You had taken everything else off, your panties and previous clothes on the floor. You were in full display as you didn't even button up the shirt. Your breasts are exposed to the cold air making your nipples harden.

You sat on the bed, waiting for him to come. One minute bleeds into ten and you laid down on the bed. One hour turns to several and your eyes close up. Sleep catches up with you.

You woke up with a gasp. Sleep at the edge of your mind but your mouth lets out a moan wantonly as several things hit you at once.

One. Snow was here.

Two. Snow was between your thighs, his hands keeping your thighs wide and spread for him.

Three. His lips were on your clit, sucking it vigorously making you arch your back and wanting to flinch away from the intensity.

And you tried to move away, your bud sensitive more with pain than in pleasure. How long was Snow like this, sucking at your clit. Your pussy was now impossibly slick and throbbing, wanting to be filled.

A slap was delivered onto your thigh, a hitched moan leaving your lips because of the delicious pain. “Behave,” Snow sneers at you, his blue eyes looking ravenous, his face smeared with your arousal. This was Snow? You thought for a brief second. For once he felt like a man brought down to his knees by a woman instead of something untouched.

“Sorry,” you gasp out as he dives into your cunt. His tongue drew circles onto your clit as your cunt clenched around nothing. You never thought Snow would be sloppy at anything, you thought wrong because his breathing was loud, warn air of his pants grazing your sex. His stubble brushed against your sex as all of his attention was overstimulating your clit.

He finally lost interest as you cried out that you were close just by him playing with your clit for who knows how long. It hurt. It felt good. Perfect, delicious pleasure and pain. You were dizzy, your eyes glistening with unshed tears.

He leaves your clit alone, but his tongue finds its way to the rest of your pussy. His tongue traces your folds, your slit, and the inside of your walls. Leaving no parts of your cunt untouched by his mouth. He was licking every drop of your juices, all the while he made you wetter.

Your hands were fisted into the sheets, your hips subtly moving for friction. A notion that was stopped with a squeeze of his hand on your thigh. You were brought to your high, so close to the edge you would fall in a second as moans spilled from your lips.

Only for that to be snatched away as Snow moved away. You cry out, “No! Please!” But Snow merely raised an unamused eyebrow while his hand wiped his mouth. “Snow, please,” you whispered, feeling the heat and the high of your lost orgasm.

He lets out a scoff as he sees your desperate state. “My meal is finished,” he merely said. His hand takes off the red suit, the same color as your (his) shirt. His fingers unbutton his white shirt, revealing his toned physique. Those same hands now unzipped his pants, his boxer down to the floor revealing a hard cock. The well-rounded tip leaking pre-cum.

“But I am not done with you yet,” he muses, as he moves in closer. You were sitting up now and his hand was on your nape.

“I don't think I'll ever be done with you,” he whispers, the words sealing a promise of forever. “Don't be,” you whispered back, leaning to catch his lips. Your arms around his shoulders to pull him on top of you, to feel his weight, his skin against yours.

Primal instincts take over you both as you kiss. Desperate whimpers and deep groans could be heard and his teeth sank into your bottom lip. Making it bleed and making him suck your blood into his mouth. He pulls back with a gasp, his eyes wide, his lips swollen. His taste was of a dessert you couldn't name. Addictive and delicious.

His left hand was on your cheek, another still on your nape. His thumb brushes your cheek in a manner of caring. “You're the Queen of Panem now,” he announces, making your heart jump in surprise. “The First Lady of Panem.”

With that, he seals his words with a kiss. Soft and ravishing, his tongue explores your mouth. Your hand is in his hair, the blonde locks between your fingers as you kiss back with everything you have.

“You're mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing with yours, “My bird in a cage. My property.”

“I'll make sure everyone at Capitol knows it,” he said, his eyes looking at you with the ferality of an animal stripped to his bare instincts. “Is that understood, my bird?” He asked.

The answer couldn't be anything but yes. So you replied exactly that and he grins. He looked beautiful in that moment, his charms coming out making you even more needy.

You pulled him in for another kiss, his lips smiling against yours as both of your tongues tangled. His hand lowered itself and cupped your cunt. His fingers trace your entrance and you whimper into his mouth but he doesn't breach in.

He gathers your arousal on his digits, and he pulls back from the kiss to take the digits into his mouth. After sucking his fingers clean, he kisses you again, letting you taste yourself.

His hands pushed you down on the bed, your legs on his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, taking you in, his bird being such a pretty mess.

He placed a kiss on your thigh that was unbelievably soft that for a moment you didn't believe it was action done by Snow's lip but the harsh bite of his mouth marking the skin of your inner thigh proved otherwise.

He leaned down, his hand in your hand above your head. Your free hand dug into his shoulder, forming crescent marks that made him groan, a choked-off desperate sound that you wanted more of.

All the while he placed his cockhead right at your entrance. You gasp as you feel the tip slip inch by inch into your velvety warmth. You wondered if he was going so slow because he wanted you to adjust to his length. However, one look at his face told you were wrong. His blonde strands clinging to his forehead, his lips parted and letting out hot breaths all the while his eyes closed shut, his eyebrows furrowed as he buried his dick into your cunt with the slow pace.

The reason he was going slow was because he wasn't sure if he could last and fuck, that got into your head. Birds are little teasers and you were no different so you clenched around him. His length half pushed in and felt your pulsing cunt wrapping itself tighter around him.

His eyes fall open as he lets out a grunt of surprise and pleasure, “Fuck.” His icy eyes glare at you, “Don't.” Your pussy only clenched further in reply and his hold gets harder, pressing your hand into the mattress as he sank in completely without a warning. “Ah!” You let out in surprise, the stretch painfully perfect.

“Take it,” he whispered to you, his lip biting your earlobe before he dragged his mouth to the pulse of your neck to mark you up properly as his property. His hips now beginning to move, calculated and controlled just like every other action of Snow. Every thrust hits your g-spot relentlessly, making you gasp and moan, back arching in pleasure.

“Gentlemen make their women cum but you're not a woman. You're my property but I am merciful so cum. Cum on my cock untouched, my bird.” He groans into your ear as his pace gets faster, a tad bit of desperation creeping in as his hips slam into you without a care. You could only moan in reply, truth is you didn't need to be touched to cum. His cock, his skin against yours, his mouth sucking your neck, and placing love bites were enough. More than so.

The heat was already forming in your stomach, waiting to be released and spread all over your body. The final push hadn't come long after. As you and Snow shared a filthy open-mouthed kiss, he had thrust so hard and deep, a small bulge had formed, your cervix being kissed with his cockhead.

You cry his name and your pussy comes on his cock, milking his length with repeated squeezes. “That's it, my bird,” he praises as he continues to abuse your cunt with his dick. Your nerves are oversensitive making you whimper and teary-eyed. He found his release with a whimper, his hot cum filling your womb. He pulled out with a small gasp and you wanted him again.

His hand ran through his hair, pushing the sweaty strands up. “First lady of Panem,” he stated, looking at you and then your body, his cum falling out of your cunt.

“First Lady…” you whispered, in disbelief and for whatever may come in the future.

[saffron-rays]

Nightmare

HC: even though he doesn’t require sleep, if tav is human, Astarion picks up the habit as a means to spend as much time with them as possible… since humans have one of the shortest life spans of all the races in Faerûn.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

Sacrificial Bride

Yandere Dragon Shifter x Princess Reader

TW: Yandere behavior, manipulation, Somniaphilia (suggested), delusional yandede, complacency, etc.

Feroc the Ferocious was the kind of dragon who would bring any silly knight to their knees. The kind of dragon that inspired legends and stories to be written in books. The kind of dragon that was larger than any castle human like could ever dream to build. The kind of dragon that could decimate a kingdom with a single breath of his fiery flames if he was angered… the dragon that your own people sacrificed you, the princess, to in order to save themselves from his wrath.

And so they bound you up and threw you before him. Your own father on his knees as he begged the great dragon for mercy in exchange for his own flesh and blood… the kingdom’s most prized beauty in exchange for peace. An offer Feroc quickly accepted before the king could utter another word!

Dragons collected beautiful treasures! Dragons hoarded their treasure in caves and abandoned castles fad from prying eyes… and unbeknownst to you, Feroc found you to be rhetorical most beautiful

For dragons, a sacrificial spouse was an ancient tradition and this was the first time he’d been offered such a perfect bride! How could he refuse you? Especially when your own people begged him so prettily? Would you beg for him just as beautifully one day?

And so you were scooped up in his ginormous talons and carried away in the sky to a lone tower deep in the mountains. Your new home… your home with Feroc.

You could recall how scared of him you used to be. You’d heard from many people of how this giant scaled beast before you was a man eater. Of how he swallowed many knights in his time… yet this dragon seemed so shy from your experience so far. Skittish even.

Feroc often brought you various jewelry and fine silks from his daily raids. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t bring you a gift of some kind. His molten eagerly studied your form despite his persistent silence. Feroc’s company disturbed you as much as it comforted you.

It took a month for him to speak to you. His accent was heavy from the olden tongue he spoke but he knew the same language you spoke. His voice was booming and low, it could easily strike terror in others… but for some reason, his voice calmed you. Perhaps loneliness has finally crept its fangs into your heart? You weren’t sure…

Feroc would bring you anything you wanted to eat. Within means, of course. He’d bring you delicacies he’d likely looted off some poor caravan if you said you wanted sweets. There was no extremes he wouldn’t go to for you, which was odd since he was a dragon who’s been around for hundred of years… why did Feroc have such an interest in a human princess?

One day, you had a nightmare of a man standing in the corner of your room. Your scream in the night quickly alerted your guardian who peaked his large eye in your room in worry.

“Princess? What’s wrong?”

“I just had a nightmare… I thought there was a man in my room.” You wiped the sweat from your forehead while Feroc clicked his tongue.

“No man could ever scale his tower. I’m the only one who can enter. I’d never let anyone harm you.” The red and black dragon grumbled, his molten eyes glanced you once over. “Why? Do you… want a human companion?”

“I do get lonely sometimes.” You admitted to Feroc . His eyes now filled with hurt. “I do enjoy your company but… I miss being able to touch another human.”

Feroc didn’t understand your sentiment. He was a might dragon! The strongest of his kind! Feroc has proven himself to be the best of mates to you and yet you were still displeased? Was it because he was a dragon? Would you be happier if he showed you his other form?

“I’ll figure something out then… get some sleep.”

Feroc now snuck in your bedroom when you slept. He ghosted his clawed fingers over your oblivious form in wonder. His clawed fingers were too sharp, he’d have to dull them more… he didn’t want to cut up his pretty princess!

Feroc’s gentle touches progressed when he noticed how heavy of a sleeper you were. His desire to see what made you human drove him to insatiable heights. No area was left unexplored with his eyes. He needed to be perfect. Feroc had to be compatible with you. You and him were going to have young one day, after all! Feroc didn’t want to harm you in the process!

Feroc was able to mold his body into a perfect man. Once that was the perfect size for you, yet still immense so you’d know it was him. Feroc now stood at a massive seven feet tall rather than the hundred feet of his dragon form.

Yet there was a constant fear within him that you’d die of old age or of natural causes… Feroc knew humans were fragile creatures so he did what he had to. Feroc shared half of his heart with you while you slept. It was a simple spell and a painless procedure for you. One that would benefit the both do you in the long run!

If one of you died, the other would! You’d never age! You now shared a lifespan with him. Feroc couldn’t wait to tell you once the two of you made everything official!

It took another month for him to reveal this perfect form to you. Feroc had to let the excitement die down from sharing his heart with you so you didn’t freak out! Humans were such finicky creatures, after all! And he’d be an awful mate if he frightened you with a subject you had no knowledge on…

All you needed was to see this devilishly beautiful form of his and you’d be bewitched.

“Look at us… we’re so beautiful together.” Feroc whispered into the skin of your shoulder as he admired your reflection beside him. “I think I’ll find you more gold to decorate you with, my treasure.”

“Feroc, I don’t understand.” You jump when Feroc dragged his forked tongue across your exposed shoulder.

“You accepted all of my gifts and you’re the only one who suits me.” Feroc hissed his obsidian eyes flashed a bright gold. “Wouldn’t you rather be by my side than in my stomach?”

You gulped and obediently rested your head on his chest which made him purr in contentment. His muscular arms wrapped around yours as his wavy black hair tickled your skin.

“I’m joking, I’d never eat you.” Feroc smiled before he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “You’re my bride, after all.”

You didn’t need to know about how many knights he’s killed over the last few months for you. Feroc would take care of you until the day the both of you died. Every heinous act he’s ever committed over these last few months were all for his beautiful, blushing bride.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Whatever My Wife Wants

Summary: On your honeymoon, Javi decides to break out a new accessory you've never seen him wear before. Little does he know, that seeing him wear a chain for the first time is about to drive you wild.

Word Count: 4.5K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also its your honeymoon so who am I to say), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, literally the biggest, fattest, ugliest breeding kink (I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not), marriage kink (?) creampie, cum play, kind of exhibitionism (like if you SQUINT), talks of starting a family, Javi LOVES his wife, Javi in a CHAIN, Javi on his honeymoon deserves its own warning, did I mention that Javi LOVES his wife?!

A/N: shoutout to my sweet @honeyedmiller for this request after reblogging this MASTERPIECE from @enstatia. It's supposed to be a painting of Din, but it gave me such big Javi vibes, and I really haven't been the same since picturing the one and only Javier Peña in a chain (bc If i can't unsee it, you shouldn't be allowed to either) 😵‍💫 Also shoutout to Lucien Flores for singlehandedly ruining my life today with that new clip from the Uninvited (but also you can't tell me that this outfit is so Javi on the beach coded PHEW)

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

Javi had never been one for jewelry- well, that was until a few days ago when a new golden wedding band had made a home on his hand. Since you had slipped it on his finger, Javi couldn’t get enough of watching it glisten in the warm, tropical sunlight on your honeymoon, a reminder that filled his heart to the brim to know that he was yours forever. 

Javi’s new wedding ring was the only jewelry that he had ever pictured himself wearing, until you had mentioned to him in passing while shopping for new clothes for your honeymoon how good he’d look with a chain to go with any of his outfits he had planned for the trip- considering there was no way Javi was going to have no less than 4 buttons undone on his shirt at any given time while basking in the tropical warmth of your honeymoon paradise. 

Later on that week, he had dug around in his dresser to find a thin, golden chain necklace he had back from his time in college, that hadn’t seen the light of day in too many years to count. But, given your enthusiasm for the idea of him wearing something like it, Javi had decided to pack it with him in his suitcase to surprise when the time felt right. 

Well, after being a few drinks deep at the pool bar from earlier, Javi’s slightly tipsy confidence had him feeling like now was the perfect time to try out his new accessory to see what you thought. Digging through his suitcase, he pulled out out the chain to go with the rest of his outfit for your dinner on the beach, clipping the necklace around his neck as he looked himself over in the mirror, quickly fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt, undoing one more button than probably necessary to show off his new look. 

And while he could admit that he didn’t look half bad with it on, and figured you’d like the new surprise addition to his wardrobe, there’d be no way in hell he could have ever prepared himself for the viscerally awestruck reaction you’d have to the thin, gold chain dangling around his neck.  

“I can practically feel you burning a hole through my chest, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, raising an eyebrow at you as he took another bite of his food, giving you a playful smirk at the way you had been ogling at him ever since you had noticed the thin gold chain resting across his tanned skin as you began your walk through the hotel to head to dinner. 

“Oh shut up, it’s not my fault you’re so hot. You’re making it very hard not to look, in my defense.” You sighed, trying to get yourself to focus on your food instead of staring at Javi for the rest of dinner, despite the fact that the only meal you had your eyes on was sitting across the table from you. “There’s already something about you being my husband that makes you somehow even hotter than you already were, and now with this?” You picked up your fork, gesturing to the chain dangling between the parted fabric of Javi’s shirt, “I think you may be trying to legitimately kill me.” 

“Figured you’d like it. Didn’t think you’d like it this much.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip before taking another bite of food, his cheeks growing flushed and warm as he looked at you admiring him, wondering how in the hell he had gotten so goddamn lucky. “Thanks, Mrs. Peña.” He laughed, taking another bite of his food, shooting you a quick wink. 

Mrs. Peña. 

God, if that alone wasn’t enough to send you over the edge already, your new last name, combined with the incredibly attractive man you had gotten it from that you now got to call your husband? On top of that stupidly hot chain he had decided to throw on with his outfit? There was definitely something else you were hungry for other than the half cleared plate below you. 

It was then that you couldn’t have been happier you had been seated at a table on the edge of the beachside boardwalk, tucked behind a few stray palm trees, secluded enough out of view that you had no problem reaching under the table to rest your hand on Javi’s knee, toying with the hem of his shorts before letting your fingers creep further and further up his thigh. 

“Are you almost done with your food?” You asked, your voice sweet and sultry as your hand brushing against Javi’s crotch immediately caught his attention, making his eyes go wide as he sat up straight, setting down his knife and fork to look down in his lap. “Because if you are, I can think of something else I want for dessert when we go back to our room. Something I want really bad. You wanna feel how badly I want it?” 

Javi swallowed hard as your fingers wrapped more firmly around his bulge, gently massaging his dick in your grasp, before grabbing his hand and guiding it to brush along the slit of your sundress and closer to your core, aching and dripping with arousal. Letting his fingers creep up the inside of your thighs and ghost over your folds, his eyes went even wider, jaw practically dropping open to feel that you were not only absolutely soaked, but also not wearing any underwear at all. Using every ounce of composure he had to keep from falling apart right then and there at the dinner table, letting out a deep sigh as he cursed under his breath. 

“Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck, baby… Yeah, I can be done right now.” He groaned, nodding at your proposition before wrapping his hand around the meat of your thigh as he took a long inhale, staring you down with darkening eyes and a devilish grin across the table. 

Never had you been more thankful that the resort you had picked to stay at was all inclusive, because if either of you had to wait a minute longer for a server to get your bill so you could get back up to your room, the probability of impending implosion would have been practically inevitable. 

Firmly intertwining your fingers with his as  you grabbed his hand, you were nearly dragging Javi through the hotel to the nearest bay of elevators, pleasantly shocked to find no one else waiting with you to travel up to their room, leaving the two of you alone to catch the next elevator back up to your floor. 

Without a word, the second the elevator doors had closed, the two of you were on top of each other, a messy dance of tongue and teeth crashing together, Javi’s hands palming the meat of your ass over your dress while yours roamed over his chest, tracing the freckles of his tanned skin up to the golden chain dangling in the open buttons of his shirt, stopping to wrap the necklace around your finger, tugging Javi closer to you. 

“Fuck, you look so good with this on, baby.” You moaned, your words hot against Javi’s skin as you nipped at his neck, chain still tangled in your grasp. “I can’t wait to fu-”

Barely aware of the fact that you had reached your floor, the ding of the elevator was enough to catch your attention and cut you off from completing the rest of your thought before the doors slid open, revealing a group of couples waiting for their ride down to the lobby. Frantically trying to play off the fact that if the elevator ride had gone any longer, you two definitely would have been seconds away from fucking in it, you gulped, giving Javi a nudge to his ribs to bring him back to reality, the two of you quickly trying to slide past the other guests without making a scene. 

As the door closed behind you, you and Javi couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that you couldn’t seem to take an elevator trip alone without almost being caught making out like a pair of horny teenagers (which, to be fair, a pair of horny teenagers probably would have had more self control than the two of you being newlyweds on your honeymoon). 

With your room only being a few doors down from the elevator, Javi began fumbling in the pocket of his shorts for his room key, working around the full hard on he already had under the fabric from how pent up he was. Quietly cursing under his breath until he found it, as soon as the card was swiping over the lock of the door, Javi was yanking you through into your room, instantly beginning to pull down the zipper to the back of your dress as you fumbled your way back to the bed. 

Your dress fell to the floor in a crumpled pile before Javi was tossing you onto the mattress, shocked to see that you also hadn’t even bothered to put on a bra, revealing your glowing skin and obnoxious tanlines from your time spent out in the sun. 

“Dirty fucking girl, not wearing anything underneath that dress for me. Fuck me, Hermosa. God, you’re so beautiful. So fucking perfect. My perfect wife.” Javi growled, dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed to part your legs, draping them over his shoulders as he admired the wet mess between your thighs, your slick already coating your folds, glistening in the dim light of your hotel room. “My perfect wife and her perfect fucking pussy already so wet for me. 

Dragging his fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal as he ghosted over your throbbing clit, you let out a soft whimper in protest, sitting up on your elbows to look down at Javi, peppering kisses along the soft skin of your thighs. 

“Javi, fuck- Baby, I wanted to go down on you. You look so good, I-I wanna taste you, Jav, p-please.” You moaned, your argument becoming less and less convincing as his kisses traveled to your center, nose brushing against your aching bundle of nerves before looking up at you with a lustful smirk, tightening his grip around your hips to hold you in place. 

Javi shook his head as he laughed quietly to himself, watching you squirm and buck your hips towards his face, so desperately worked up and aching that the mess between your legs was really beginning to contradict your need to get Javi off before yourself. 

“Cariño…” Javi tutted, almost mockingly, digging his fingertips deeper into the meat of your flesh, “You’re not going anywhere ‘till I get a taste. I can’t leave my poor wife all worked up like this, can I?” 

Before you had a chance to respond, the flat of Javi’s tongue was dragging through your heat in a long, broad stroke, firmly pressing against your clit, looking up at you with a satisfied grin as you threw your head back in pleasure, a soft whimper escaping from your parted lips. As the last of his lick slid through your folds, you shuttered at the feeling of the metal of his chain ghosting over your cunt as it dangled from his neck, only to cry out as you could feel the other piece of jewelry he was wearing on his left ring finger sink deep into your entrance. 

“Oh f-fuck-” You whimpered as another finger breached your tight hole, already sucking him in with your warm, wet walls while his digits curled, bumping against the sweet spot inside you that he knew made you crumble. 

“That’s it, baby girl.” He cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt before diving back between your legs like a man starved, his tongue dancing in a swirling pattern of flicks and strokes between your folds as he lapped you up. You could feel yourself rolling your hips against his hand, whining at how thick and full he felt inside you, even more so now with the wedding band that had made its permanent home on his finger, taking every chance he could get to watch you cover the glistening gold ring in your arousal as yet another way to prove that you were his. 

Javi could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his fingers as your bottom half squirmed against the sheets of the bed, the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten, tingling building at the base of your spine. Latching his lips around your clit, he began to suck at your sensitive nub, his hand thrusting faster and deeper into your cunt, feeling you slowly coming undone under his touch. 

“Oh shit- fuck, fuck, Javi, I’m so close baby, oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonnaaahhhhhh-” Just like that, you were falling over the brink of collapse, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, pleasure flowing through every inch of your veins as you met your high, feeling the smirk of Javi’s smile pressed against your cunt as you soaked his face, his free hand wrapped around your hip, holding you in place for him. 

“Fuck, I swear, I’ll never fucking get over that.” Javi mewled, pulling back enough to sit on his heels, admiring the wet and puffy mess your pussy had become, gently pulling his fingers out of your heat, looking down at the way your arousal coated his fingers, covering his wedding band. “Fucking soaked me, Hermosa. You like feeling my ring when I touch you like that, baby? Knowing I’m all yours forever?” 

With your chest heaving in heavy breaths, you nodded frantically, blissed out look plastered across your face as you stared up at Javi, lust pooling in the dark brown of his eyes as he brought his soaked fingers to your mouth, tugging at your bottom lip as, opening your mouth for you to suck him clean, the warm and tangy taste of you still fresh on his skin. 

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby. Mi esposa sabes muy dulce.” (My wife tastes so sweet) Javi cooed, gently tugging his fingers out of your mouth, standing up to lean over the bed, caging your body under his as his lips crashed against yours in a needy mess of longing and desperation. 

You could feel how painfully hard he was through the fabric of his shorts, his bulge straining against the seams of his zipper as he rubbed against your thigh, laying on top of you with one arm propped up beside your head, the other gently cupping your face, thumb rubbing back and forth along your cheek as he kissed you with the tender intensity that set your insides ablaze with desire, longing, no, needing to feel him buried deep inside you as you screamed his name. 

It really had been your intention to suck Javi off the moment you had gotten back to your room, to drop to your knees and worship the beautifully handsome man you now got to call your husband and turn him into the same type of moaning, whimpering mess that he had just made you, but with the ferocity of each kiss and the instinctual jerk of Javi’s hips, there was nothing you wanted more than to be filled by the sweet sting of his cock pounding into you, over and over.  

“J-Javi, fuck- I need to feel you baby, please. Fuck, I wanna feel you so deep inside me.” You whispered, your teeth tugging at Javi’s earlobe as he peppered your jaw and neck with kisses, feeling the audible groan in his chest at your request, followed by a deep sigh as he tried to compose himself from the mess he was already becoming. 

“Yeah? That’s what you want, sweet girl? Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets.” He rasped, a devilish grin spread between his cheeks as he sat back to pull his shirt over his head, followed by his shorts and boxers, leaving him in nothing but the gold chain still dangling around his neck as he reached down to stroke his cock, red and dripping with precum before leaning back down to line up with your entrance. 

You could feel your breath hitch as his tip brushed through your folds, rubbing gently against your clit as he collected your arousal to coat his length, looking down to watch as his length sunk deep into your cunt, the both of you letting out ragged moans at the sensation. 

Javi paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the sweet sting of his stretch as he filled you, his tip kissing your cervix while his hips met yours. The fullness made your brain go blank, completely at a loss for words as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, pulling himself out enough to sink his whole length back into your cunt, each thrust making you whimper and moan, desperate for more. 

“F-fuck, give me more, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your hand wrapping around his bicep, fingertips digging into his flexing muscles. 

“Yeah? You want more, Hermosa?” Javi mewled, smirking to himself at the blissed out mess you were already becoming as the pace of his hips rutting into you began to quicken. 

As each thrust became faster, the gold chain draped around his neck began to bounce against his chest, his body close enough to yours to feel the cool metal brush against your face with each snap of his hips into yours, the sight of his necklace dangling over you as you stared up at the furrowed and focused look painting his face. The image alone of him wearing that chain was enough to make you feel like you were going to cum on the spot, but as you lay caged beneath the weight of his broad body, feeling nothing but his warm skin and chain rub against you, you were nearly convinced it was going to be over for you right then and there. 

Without even thinking, you lifted your head up off the bed just enough to grab the chain between your teeth, tugging him closer to you, the sudden yank making his eyes go wide in surprise as the two of you came nose to nose, foreheads brushing against each other before his lips were on yours again, entangling you in an all consuming kiss without faltering in his pace. 

“Fuck, you look so good.” You moaned, your lips parting just enough from his to whisper your praises into his ear. “You look so hot with this fucking chain, Jesus Christ.” 

Your comment had a low, breathy laugh escaping from his chest, shaking his head to himself almost in disbelief at how enthralled you were with him. 

“Me? Baby girl, you have no idea.” He cooed, slowing his thrusts to sit back on his haunches, readjusting you to bring your knees pressed to your chest, leaning back down, running his hands along your body, up your arms until he had them above your head, pinned down to the bed in his grasp. “You know how many guys I’ve seen staring at you since we’ve been here? How many dirty fucking looks I’ve had to give them? Maybe this ring on your finger isn’t enough, mi amor.” 

“W-what do you, fuck- what do mean?” You whimpered, the new position opening you up in a way that had you feeling every inch of Javi as he sank his cock even deeper into your cunt, splitting you open in the most delicious way possible, your brain barely working enough to let your words escape from your mouth. 

“I mean,” Javi groaned, tightening his grip to hold you in place, his eyes growing darker with desire with another deep, long thrust into your heat, “That maybe, I need to fuck a baby into, Osita. Fuck a baby into my beautiful fucking wife, and let everyone see that you’re mine with our kid growing inside you.” 

Javi’s words sent a shiver down your spine, the thought alone making you whimper- You and Javi both had undeniable cases of baby fever, and now that you were finally married and had agreed that your birth control wasn’t going to be a part of your packing list, the prospect that in 9 months from now, you could have a third member to your family? That was enough to have you close to finishing right then and there. 

 A gulp traveling down your throat before a long exhale, trying to find the words to respond to his proposition, your voice trembling in an anxious excitement. 

“F-fuck- Oh my god, yes. Fuck a baby into me, Javi. Let me, oh shit- let me make you a daddy.” 

“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth, trying his best to maintain his own composure, taking a long exhale before his gaze met yours again, a fierce kind of determination and promise pooling in the deep chocolate brown of his eyes, leaning his body on top of yours, pushing your knees closer to your chest, opening you up to an even deeper angle as his mouth crashed into yours, beginning to pick up his pace once again as his hips snapped into yours. “That’s what  you want, Hermosa? Fuck, I’ll give it to you, baby. Oh shit- Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets, remember? You want a baby? Fuck- I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you I’ll fuck a baby into you right now.” 

You could feel the all too familiar tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine once again, Javi’s cock pounding perfectly into your g-spot over and over again, the hairs at the base of his length grinding against your throbbing clit, sending you to the brink of collapse with each thrust in and out of your cunt. 

“Yes, oh my god- yes, I w-want it so bad. P-please, baby, fuck.” You whined, starting to stumble over your words as you could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his cock, the coil in your core tightening to the point of nearly snapping. 

“Fuck- say it again. Tell me- mierda- tell me how badly you want it.” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming slopier and more desperate as he could feel himself on the verge of chasing his own high, knowing all too well you were almost hitting yours.  

“I want you to fill me up, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- I want it so bad. I want you to knock me up and give me a baby, please, baby, oh my god- please.” You were all but panting at this point, your legs starting to tremble as your cunt clenched tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, the overwhelming sensation of his fullness, promise of pregnancy, and that damn chain dangling in your face was enough to finally send you over the edge. “Fuck, Javi, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, I’m so close baby, I’m gonna, oh shit- I’m gonna cu-ahhhhhhh.” 

Those were the last words you were able to muster before you were screaming out Javi’s name as you came, euphoria and ecstasy radiating through every inch of your body, your orgasm crashing through you with so much intensity you could have sworn you were seeing stars. 

Watching you fall apart beneath him, soaking his cock in your arousal as you came had Javi only moments behind you, the rhythm of his hips beginning to stutter, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each others combined with your wanton moans and whimpers and curses under your breath making him begin to babble incoherently. 

“That’s it, Osita. That’s my good girl. Fucking soak my cock, baby. Cum all over me before I, fuck me- fuck myself so deep in you it’ll fucking take. Holy fuck- Fuck, I’m gonna cum too. Gonna fucking fill you up. Give you all of me. Fuck, I’ll give you everyting, baby, mierda- everything you’ll ever wa-ahhhhhh” 

With one last final thrust, Javi was spilling deep inside you, warm ropes of his spend coating your walls, milking himself of every single last drop before collapsing on top of you, the warmth and weight and of his body sinking on top of your chest as the two you sighed in sync, trying to catch your breath with long, labored huffs. 

As Javi felt himself begin to soften, a groan rumbled low in his chest while he pulled out, feeling the mix of your spend dripping out your hole, coating the inside of your thighs in glistening juices. You let out an involuntary whimper at the loss of fullness inside you, your head falling back on the mattress in blissed out satisfaction, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to bring yourself back to reality after floating away in post-colotial bliss. 

“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, lifting your head back up to see Javi sitting back on his heels, admiring the mess of the two of you pooling between your legs. 

“So fucking pretty, Hermosa.” He mewled, peppering kisses down the soft skin of your thighs, making his way back towards your core. Before you could even realize what was happening, Javi’s head was back between your legs, one broad stroke of his tongue collecting the tangy, salty mixture leaking out of your cunt and lapping it back into your entrance quickly replacing his mouth with his fingers to push the mixture of your spend even further into you. 

Looking up at you, slick covering his mustache and smug grin spread between his cheeks, Javi curled his fingers just enough to make you yelp as he pressed against your g-spot, considering how worked up and overstimulated you already were. 

“Gotta make sure I keep you full of me, baby. Can’t let anything go to waste.” Javi smirked, gently pulling out his fingers, resting his hands on your thighs, drawing soft circles on your skin with his thumbs. 

You tried to sit back up, propping yourself on your elbows before Javi’s body was caging over you once again, slowly lowering himself down until your back was flat against the bed, cradling your jaw as guided you down with soft, slow kisses, feeling his chain brush against your chin he pulled away from your lips. 

“You’re not going anywhere, Momma. My wife wants a baby? Then I’m doing everything I can to give her one. Whatever she wants.” Javi smirked, pressing a tender kiss onto your forehead as his hand caressed your face, brushing your skin just gently enough to tickle you, a little giggle escaping from your lips as your eyes met his sweet puppy dog ones. 

“You’re ridiculous, you menace.” You laughed, playfully nudging Javi as he rolled over next to you on the side of the bed, wrapping his arm around you, tugging you to lay against his bare chest, your hand draping over his stomach before crawling up his chest, wrapping his gold chain around your fingers. “Hmmmm whatever your wife wants, huh?” You smirked, looking up at him with a mischievous grin. 

“Whatever she wants, Hermosa.”

“Your wife wants you to never take this damn thing off again.” 

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @pedr0swh0r3

[falling-endlessly]

The Finer Things in Death

Alastor x Soulmate!Female!Reader

Summary: An AU where your soulmate's first words to you are tattooed on your body in their handwriting.

Oh dear, where's your smile?

You knew those words by heart. Could recite them backwards, in your sleep even. Those damning words have been inscribed on the inside of your ankle for as long as you could remember, the elegant cursive strokes poking out of your shoe line.

In theory, somewhere, someone else was supposed to be sporting your own neat, boxy handwriting. You'd say you lucked out with yours. Some soul marks were less than pleasant, and others were downright embarrassing (imagine having the words move, asshole written on your stomach for the rest of your life. No thank you).

At least your soulmate was trying to cheer you up, right?

Yeah, but there was just one teeny, tiny problem.

Your soulmate was dead. Long dead actually.

Were they stillborn? Did their toddler self die in a house fire or something? Night after night you laid awake in your bed, pondering what the hell could have possibly happened to have altered the entire course of fate.

All you really knew was that your soul mark was a light gray (indicating a severed bond) instead of the usual inky black, and it had been since the day you were born. Everyone was in shock to see the faint words on your little ankle. After all, how could a soul mark exist if the other person wasn't even alive to speak those words into existence?

Simply put, you were a conundrum, and it had been some time since you had dedicated effort into figuring out why? You'd accepted it. Your soulmate was dead. Life went on.

Besides, you'd spent enough time grieving over someone you'd never met before.

Your lifestyle was not extravagant by any means, but it was comfortable. You had a steady income, lived on your own in an apartment in the city, and survived off of more than ramen bowls. Every day you would come home and read in your little fluffy alcove that you'd built yourself by your window, or pop open a bag of chips (and the occasional bottle of wine, if you were feeling fancy) while you watched the latest crime show releases from your couch.

Yes, so comfortable was your little routine, that you didn't notice the robbery happening in the convenience store you were browsing in, or the stray bullet coming for your head until it was too late. Your skull exploded in a world of pain, eyes rolling back as your body crumpled to the ground.

Dying was an interesting experience, to say the least. Your soul floated from your body, the final notes of music that blasted from your earphones fading into nothingness like the sound of a car driving away.

There was a brief moment where you were struck numb, hovering in the air as you stared down at your glassy eyed corpse, blood pooling alarmingly from the circular shaped hole in your head. You heard screams of the other customers behind you, but they were kind of muffled, like you were underwater.

It didn't last long though, because before you knew what was happening, you felt an almighty tug downwards,  like an anchor had just chained itself to your stomach.

And that was how you ended up in hell. Fun. What were you here for? You had no idea. Maybe God got mad that your teenage self stole a few packs of gummy bears in high school. But a life of eternal damnation and suffering seemed a little harsh, didn't it?

Before you could contemplate the semantics of it though, something...strange happened. Your ankle, right where you'd tried countless times to forget your soul mark existed, was burning like a fucking brand.

You hissed sharply in pain, frantically pulling down your sock to assess the damage. Was the eternal punishment starting already or something? Shit, you had terrible pain tolerance.

But what you saw made you gasp. In fact, you could hardly believe your eyes.

Because in the place of your faded grey soul mark, the letters had been reinvigorated, darkened with a swift hand and—glowing they were glowing holy shit.

"Hah," you huffed in disbelief, shaking your head slowly. "So that was it, huh? I was destined to meet my shitty soulmate in hell this whole fucking time?" You punctuated the last words with a few angry kicks to an unassuming patch of weeds. What a cosmic joke at your existence.

But, like you always did in shitty situations, you gathered all of your raging emotions, stuffed them tightly in a box at the back of your mind, and cooled your head. Freaking out in this place would do you no good.

Turned out hell was pretty much like the world you'd left, except for the fact that you could kill someone on the street and nobody would bat an eye. Like all of the depraved aspects of humanity were on full display now in a somehow still functioning society.

You managed to snag a job at an old record store, the owner giving you one look before grunting and gesturing to the register—but not before lifting his jacket to show you the long assault riffle strapped across his chest. Yeesh, you got the message.

It wasn't a bad job by any means, especially considering where you were. Sure a little boring and monotonous, but you'd restock thousands of old albums if it meant staying away from the overlords.

Oh, yeah, another thing. Overlords were like the big shots around hell. Messing with them usually meant a death sentence, or worse, a contract.

And if there was anything at all that you picked up from all those nights of watching television, it was that you do not make deals with the devil. Really, elementary level shit. And you'd never actually seen Lucifer, mind you, but these demons were probably a close second, right?

Yeah, so really, you were just living a shittier variant of your life on earth it seemed. Repetitive, safe and comforting. You were even starting to like the scent of musty cardboard, as weird as that was.

And once again, all thoughts of your soulmate slipped your mind.

Until one day, when everything went to shit.

****

It started like this: with the sad sight of your empty fridge.

You groaned, dragging a tired hand down your face. Seriously? You thought you'd restocked already, damn it. 

Your stomach growled achingly, and you sighed, wondering if you'd actually die again if you starved yourself. Begrudgingly, you decided that you didn't really want to chance it, throwing on the first set of clothes that you saw and slipping out of your dingy apartment to make a quick grocery run.

You generally hated leaving your apartment, and didn't do so except to retrieve bare necessities or walk across the block to go to work.

Why? Well, see exhibit A to your left: some poor, random demon screeching and running around on fire. See exhibit B to your right: a turf war between two rival gangs. And finally how could you forget, cannibal colony, slurping up intestines like bloody, chunky spaghetti. Disgusting.

The worst thing about hell wasn't the fact that you were in hell, it was the fact that the worst of the worst people were all cramped together like some fucked up refugee camp, and some people were significantly worse than others. Which sucked, for the poor unfortunate souls just trying to get by. Like you.

You sighed, ducking under a stray stream of bullets (you weren't falling for that shit twice) and side stepping pools of blood and guts. Just a regular Monday morning in hell. God damn it.

It seemed luck wasn't on your side though, because an ugly, dog-headed demon blocked your path, sneering down at you smugly. "Hey bitch, it's your lucky day. The big boss is hiring, and you fit the profile."

You clenched your grocery bags in a white-knuckled grip. Nobody would give a flying fuck if you were dragged off of the street in broad daylight. "Not interested."

"Oh it wasn't a suggestion," he chuckled darkly. You tensed as you were surrounded by at least four other demons. Shit, you knew you should have slept in.

"You like apples?" You nodded sharply at the demon in charge.

His face twisted in annoyance. "Why the fuck do y—"

You reached into your bag, before hurling a granny smith straight at his forehead. He yelped as it made contact, stumbling back as he shook his head in confusion. While everyone was still in shock from your weapon of choice, you shoved your way out of the circle, gunning it straight down the street because your second life did depend on it.

"Get her!" You heard a yell of absolute rage, making you shiver. Fuck, that did not sound promising. That apple must have really pissed him off.

Putting your limited aerobics to use, you ducked, dodged and lunged through the crowd like a pro. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, air burning your lungs as you pumped your legs faster. But of course, your grocery bag ripped open, sending all of your food tumbling and you by extension, tripping and face planting in the dirt rather pathetically.

A meaty hand gripped a handful of your hair, yanking it up harshly. You cried out as he pulled, hands uselessly trying to smack his away, but his hold only tightened. A liquor-filled breath and cheap cologne invaded your senses, making you cough.

"Uppity bitch," he growled, giving your scalp a painful yank for good measure. "You actually thought you could get away? Maybe I should teach you a lesson, huh? Sample the goods."

You froze, every nerve in your body going cold. So far in your stay in hell, you'd managed to avoid the more depraved souls here. You kept your head down, didn't draw attention to yourself, and were mostly left alone. Looked like today, your luck had finally run out.

"Get the hell off of me!" You spat, twisting around vehemently, only for your head to snap to the side as you were harshly backhanded.

"Stop your fucking whining and stay still!" He snapped, narrowing his eyes.

You bared your teeth, snapping at him aggressively.

A round of mocking chuckles went around the group of your kidnappers, the one holding your hair giving you a wicked grin. "Shit, that was cute. Really—"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, because his head exploded. Literally exploded, blood and brain matter dripping from your face. His hand went slack, dropping you on your wobbling knees.

Everyone was silent for a second, staring at the bloody mess where the demon was standing two seconds prior.

And that was when you heard it. Static. Loud, crackling and ominous.

Your mouth went dry. Shit. Shitty shit shit. You knew what that meant. How could you not? The asshole broadcasted his killings all over hell like a fucking psychopath. And now, it was your turn to become hell's gory entertainment. Fan-fucking-tastic.

You stood frozen, breath stuck in your throat as dark, menacing tendrils slowly curled along the walls. A large, grinning shadow rounded the corner, before the culprit himself stalked into view, razor sharp teeth on display as he tilted his head. "Oh," his grin widened. "Am I interrupting?"

"N-No man," one of the braver demons stuttered, taking a step back. "You can have her—"

Splat.

You turned slowly to face the bloody wall, eyes wide in disbelief.

"How distasteful," the radio demon shook his head. "As if I'd participate in your brainless thuggery. No, no. Unlike you gentlemen, I have class. Truly," his eyes lit up like glowing radio dials, a dark shadowy mass rising behind him as his antlers branched out like a gnarled, rotten tree. "Did your mother never teach you any manners?"

Faster than you could blink, the demons around you were reduced to blood, cartilage and splintered bone. The overwhelming irony scent made you want to gag, but you didn't dare move a muscle, eyes fixated on the terrifying sight before you.

When the radio demon noticed your staring, his smile sharpened, antlers shrinking as he leisurely approached you. Oh no. Nononono.

You struggled to keep from hyperventilating, your body going into shock as he leaned into your personal space. Two bloody fingers pushed into your cheeks, forcing your mouth into a morbid, artificial smile. "Oh dear," he tutted in amusement. "Where's your smile?"

You jerked back violently, eyes wide as icy cold realization washed over you. Dread squeezed your lungs as you stared at the grinning, bloody figure of your soulmate in horror.

The radio demon. Psychopath and mass murderer.

Your soulmate.

What the FUCK.

"T-This," your voice shook. "This is not happening."

There was a sudden screech of radio static, before his own eyes widened. Shit. "What," he said sharply. "Did you just say?"

"A-Ah," you trembled, leaning back. Every single nerve in your body was alight, screaming at you to get the ever-loving fuck away from him.  In what was probably the stupidest and most desperate plan of your life, you pointed over his shoulder fearfully. "Look! Another one!"

As soon as he turned his head, you bolted down the street.

****

You slammed your front door closed behind you, double—triple checking your lock before sliding down to the floor in a panting mess.

Immediately you grew paranoid. What the fuck were you thinking? A lock wouldn't keep the radio demon out. You needed fifty more locks and ten more doors. You needed to barricade yourself inside for the next month. You needed—

"Hello there!" An exuberant voice chirped.

You screamed, throwing the first thing you could grab in his direction. He caught the house slipper, inspecting it in amusement, before tossing it over his shoulder.

"My, did I scare you sweetheart? Apologies," he grinned smugly, relaxing in your recliner with a mug of coffee. Your favorite mug.  

You blinked. What the fuck?

"What are you doing in my house?" You squeaked, fingers digging into your welcome mat.

"Oh dear, allow me to introduce myself," he set the mug down on your coffee table, leisurely rising from the couch and offering a hand. "I'm Alastor! A pleasure to be meeting you sweetheart, quite a pleasure."

You didn't take his hand, instead choosing to gape at him like a dead fish.

He retracted his hand, tilting his head with a shit-eating grin. Twirling his cane, he continued like there wasn't just an awkward and terrifying pause. "I hope you don't mind that I followed you! You see, I believe our conversation was cut a bit...short." His eyes glowed as unidentifiable symbols floated in the air around him.

As quickly as they appeared however, they disappeared like they were never there. Jesus Christ, this man was giving you emotional whiplash. "Anywho!" He perked up again, ever the charming grin on his face. "Enough about me! I've yet to catch your name, darling."

Fuck. You really didn't want to give him your name.

But before you could open your mouth, he leaned closer to you, grin widening ominously. "I hope you're not thinking of lying, my dear. I must say, I'm not very fond of that quality."

"Y-Y/n!" You said quickly, raising your hands to shield your face.

There was a slight pause, before a gentle touch swiped at your cheek, retracting after a moment. You peeked your eye open, only to become vaguely ill at the sight.

"You had a little something on your face," he chuckled in amusement, holding out a clump of brain matter. With a swift flick, it was magicked away.

"What do you want?" You whimpered, overwhelmed with the entire situation.

"Oh dear, is it really that strange for me to want to get to know my soulmate?" He tilted his head, leaning towards you uncomfortably close.

"Y-Yes, actually," you stuttered, trying to look anywhere but his prominent red eyes. "I thought you'd do something more along the lines of...killing and eating me." You shrunk back as his grin widened. "Please don't eat me."

"How morbid, I would never!" He waved it away, like the idea was preposterous. "My word! What awful rumors you've been hearing about me!"

"You frequent cannibal colony and I just saw you tear apart six demons like they were freshly baked bread," you stared at him incredulously. "What hasn't been spot on?"

He paused, before giving you a humoring chuckle. "Well it seems your impression of me needs correcting!" Before you knew what was happening, nimble fingers encircled your wrist, pulling it forward gently. He pressed warm lips to the back of your hand, before giving you a charming grin. "Enchantée, ma chère."

You blinked, breath stuck in your throat. "What—What does that mean?"

"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about it!" He gently set your hand down, before pinching your cheek condescendingly. "Well my dear, I'm afraid I have other responsibilities I must attend to!"

He stood up with a flourish, leaning on his microphone cane as he smirked at you. "Not to worry!" He snapped his fingers, and a slim, feminine shadow emerged from the ground. "Missy here will watch over you in my stead."

"What? No, I—"

"I'll be back before you know it!" He offered a chilling smile, before melting into a puddle of shadows.

You gaped at the spot where he once stood, trying to process what the actual fuck just happened. Your gaze slid over to the feminine looking shadow, still standing in the corner of your living room. She grinned at your attention, teeth sharpened.

You closed your eyes, head thumping back against your door in exhaustion. 

"I'm so fucked."

****

Enchantée, ma chère : Charmed, my dear

[emojellyace08]

Your presence alone radiates comfort. You're like the sun that he has been reaching for warmth even when times you're like the winter who's giving him shivers because of how closeted and blunt you are at times.

But your voice makes him calm and in peace. Your soft hands that ruffles his hair and pats his head makes him a bit sleepy. It shows that even you are somehow distant, you're like a burning fire who's willing to make in ease even in the most stressful times.

DANIEL PARK, JAY HONG, ZACK LEE, VASCO/LEE EUN TAE, JOHAN SEONG, KWAK JIHAN, VIN JIN, HUDSON AHN, KWAK JIBEOM, JAKE KIM, SAMUEL SEO, SINU HAN, JERRY KWON, LINEMAN, YUSEONG

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

Sweet yanderes who are so gentle with their darlings, handling them like they’re made of glass. They never raise their voice and hold their darling like they’ll break under the slightest pressure, terrified of harming their darling in any way.

Sweet yanderes who can be a bit overwhelming, always doing everything for their darling and making sure their always within eyeshot of them. They just don’t want their darling to strain themselves, is that so bad? Their darling won’t have to lift a finger as long as they’re around!

Sweet yanderes who would never hurt their darling, no matter how much they acted out. Yanderes who rely on rewards rather than punishment, giving their darling more privileges the longer they behave.

Sweet yanderes who want nothing more than to keep their darling safe. Sure, they kidnapped them and took away most of their freedom, but it was for their own good! They can’t have their darling being hurt and corrupted by the cruelty of the outside world, it would destroy them!

Sweet yanderes who make their darling as comfortable as possible as a way to make up for their lost freedoms. They’ll buy all their darlings favorite things, nab all of their comfort items just to keep them happy. They know what they’ve done is upsetting but eventually, if they keep treating their darling well, they’ll see that it was for the best. They have all they need where they are anyways!

Sweet yanderes whose hearts break a little more every time their darling tries to escape or lash out. Why can’t they see that this is for the best? Aren’t they doing enough to keep their darling happy? Yanderes who work even harder to keep their darlings satisfied, doing anything and everything they ask (except for letting them go).

Sweet yanderes who would and do murder anyone standing in between them and their darling without regret, brutalizing their victim until the body’s almost unrecognizable. Yanderes who make sure their darling never finds out about what they’ve done, too afraid of scaring their darling even more than they already are.

Sweet yanderes who remind their darling how much they love them every day, gently kissing them on the forehead while snuggling up to them. It’ll all be ok in the end, they just need to give their darling a little time to adjust, eventually they’ll be living happily ever after, just the two of them.

Forever.

The sweet yanderes: MICAH, Rain, Stella, REN, Leo (kinda), GWEN, Ivy

[joelscurls]

best kept secret

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 6.7k

summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3

Joel’s bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dad’s house across the street.

It’s gorgeous — breathtaking, even — maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually seen the crest of morning. You’re far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it,  never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.

You don’t mind the early wakeup call, though, not when it’s this: Joel’s head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.

He’s humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.

“C’mon baby,” he purrs. “Just gimme one before you go.”

They’re the first words he’s said all morning, the first thought that’s necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core. 

Even so, despite how badly you want to — because you always want Joel’s mouth on you — you’re not sure you can. 

Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.

Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Miller’s house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterday’s clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.

But with another experimental flick of Joel’s tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.

Just one, you tell yourself, and then you’ll head out.

“Fuck, okay — yeah,” you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.

With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again — with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another.  

He’s so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like they’re made of paper. It’s a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.

You’re still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.

Because you’re insatiable when it comes to Joel. 

For the past few weeks, since the first time you’d found yourself in his bed, you’ve craved him. Regardless of how sated he’s left you each and every time, you’ve needed more. 

It’s dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dad’s best-friend. But you’re finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other man’s cock ever has. 

That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit — It’s overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.

He’s bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. It’s like he doesn’t want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as it’ll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.

But it’s going to end soon; it’s inevitable with the way he’s laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and you’re powerless to stave it off any longer.

“Joel,” you warn, his name a high-pitched whine. 

“Shh, I know babygirl; it’s okay.” 

Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”

The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.

Joel talks you through it: that’s it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you can’t help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.

“Okay?” he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.

“Yeah,” you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. “More than okay.”

He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.

“Good,” he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him — a little sweet, a little bitter — and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. “Did so good, angel.” 

You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.

“I don’t want you to either, darlin’. But you can come back tonight, yeah?”

Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But it’ll have to do. 

“Tonight,” you repeat. Solidify it. 

You slink home just as the street lights dim.

The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.

You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then you’re tiptoeing past your father’s room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.

You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.

The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dad’s alarm on the other side of the wall.

By the time you’ve dressed and made your way downstairs, he’s already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you. 

Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug — your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.

God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he yawns. Turns to face you. “You were up early. Heard the shower going.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.

“Something on your mind?”

Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. There’s no way he knows — you’ve been far too careful. Still, you’re on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.

“Uh, n-no,” you stutter. “Just work stuff, I guess.”

He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, “Just gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, it’s your first job out of school. They don’t expect you to know it all right away.”

It’s good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if you’re absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isn’t preoccupied.

You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.

The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-

-there’s a knock at the door.

Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?

And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.

“Oh, buddy — hey! Come on in,” your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.

Joel is dressed — blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.

The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.

He’s a different Joel here, now — your father’s friend, your neighbor — not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length. 

No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasn’t tasted his friend’s daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.

You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay. 

Easier said than done. It’s as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.

His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.

“Yeah, I uh — I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopin’ you might have some to spare?”

He can’t be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldn’t get some on the road?

“I’m afraid she took the last of it,” your dad’s eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joel’s gaze when his follow.

“Ahh,” he says. “‘ts okay. I’ll grab some on my way in.” 

His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like there’s something else. Another reason he came here.

And then you spot it — your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joel’s back pocket. 

You must’ve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as he’d kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.

Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink. 

Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.

Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, “I gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.”

Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. You’re pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale. 

“You know Deb, right, honey?” he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dad’s coworkers. 

There’s Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese you’ve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadn’t shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week. 

This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Lou’s. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.

But Deb? You don’t recall a Deb. Still, you’re pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context. 

You shake your head, no. 

“Well, I guess you haven’t seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.”

“When I was ten?” you retort. 

“Yeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?”

You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. “Anyway, Deb – she’s around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and she’s a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.”

“Is that so?” Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“You’ll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, when’s the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since – what was her name — Jean? And if things were going well with her, I’d hope you’d tell your old friend.” The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer.  

“No, I ain’t seeing Jean,” Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.

“Well, you gotta get back out there!” 

Joel’s gaze rolls to the ceiling. “I don’t know – I’m just not real interested in datin’ right now.”

You exhale, then — a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed — unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch. 

I’ve known this woman for years Joel, I’m telling you, the two of you’d be the perfect match; she’s a looker too, real pretty.

Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.

Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.

“No, I know,” Joel grumbles. “I trust your judgment ‘n all, ‘ts just-”

“Will you just give her a chance?”

“Jesus; fine.”

The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.

Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.

He’s quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that it’s beginning to bleed through. 

“Atta boy,” he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket. 

“Promise you’ll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know you’re not gonna make me look bad here.”

Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already. But he’s refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll call her tonight,” he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips. 

He’s actually agreeing to this?

You need to get out of here before you say something rash.

The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder. 

Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.

The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late. 

The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your boss’s door.

It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dad’s words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.

The thing is — you can’t blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.

Maybe he’d be happier with Deb. 

They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street  hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.

Because that’s what this is, you and Joel — it’s wrong. Not like you weren’t already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman you’ve never met to rub it in.

The day passes infuriatingly slow.

The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time you’re due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.

“Sorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than I’d hoped,” you lie. But you can tell she doesn’t buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.

“I need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.”

“Of course,” you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. “I’ll get them done and on your desk by Friday.”

“Thanks.” Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.

You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as she’s out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joel’s number is already dialed on your phone.

He picks up after two rings.

“Darlin’ — are you okay?”

It’s admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when you’ve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.

But this can’t wait. It’s been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you don’t talk to him about it, you’re going to end up unemployed. You don’t bother to ask if he’s still on the job site, around other people. “You’re going on this date.” It’s not a question. More of an accusation.

“Baby,” he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest. 

“Why didn’t you say no?” 

“How could I?” he groans. “There’s your dad, askin’ me if I’m seein’ someone, sayin’ he’s already told this lady about me – what am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice comes out a whine. “Make something up. Tell him you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”

He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. “Yeah, baby. Think he’d believe that one, f’sure.”

“Fuck,” you huff. “I just— I don’t-“

You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you aren’t dating. You don’t have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you don’t want that, no. You just want him to choose you.

“I don’t wanna go, darlin’. I really don’t. But if I do this, I think it’ll get him off my back for a while. He won’t have a reason to suspect that I’m foolin’ around with his daughter.”

Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.

It’s not exactly a lie. You haven’t put a label on this thing, whatever it is. It’s been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation — as if you haven’t been driven by overwhelming desire — makes your stomach churn.

Joel doesn’t seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. “It’s for the best,” he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor. 

“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. “For the best.”

He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. You’re not sure that you believe him.

The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.

You dodge Joel’s calls for the remainder of the week.

There’s no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.

Even so, it doesn’t stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.

He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You can’t. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. You’ll break; you know you will.

So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.

But you still ache for him — a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin. 

It’s a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.

On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. He’s grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.

“Joel and Deb’s date is tomorrow,” he says. “Think they’ll really hit it off, don’t you?”

You’re dumbfounded for a long moment — can’t believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your father’s fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.

“Oh! I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember Deb.” You can’t help your condescending tone. Your dad doesn’t seem to catch it anyway. 

“Well,” he says, “I think they’ll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately — maybe if he has a lady, he’ll get out more!”

“You sound real excited,” you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.

“It is exciting. I’ve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place they’re going to — the Tavern — it’s got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-“

“Dad,” you stop him. You think you’ll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. “Sorry, I just — I’m really tired, all of a sudden. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”

It’s not a complete lie. You’re emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.

Your dad doesn’t question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.

Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern. 

Not that you’re planning to go there anytime soon — you’re just curious. That’s all. 

Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait. 

You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.

This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst you’ve had in a while.

You jot the address down anyway.

Downtown Austin is buzzing with life. 

Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons – it almost distracts you from the task at hand. 

At just past seven, you’d told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. He’d been a bit taken aback, seeing as you’re not very social these days, but he’d seemed happy. Relieved. 

That’s not what you’re doing, of course.

No – in reality, you’re turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. It’s packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joel’s truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.

It’s idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew he’d be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped he’d stand Deb up. 

You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do — storm inside and demand that he leave with you?

You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.

From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurant’s entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.

Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face — the same one you’ve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.

And you’re here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.

Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time they’ll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, you’re convinced that they’re going to close the place out.

But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb. 

She’s talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. It’s undeniable that she’s stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.

She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.

You wonder if he’ll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If they’ll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once he’s helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.

But he doesn’t lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers. 

He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that he’ll call — and he will, first thing tomorrow. He’s probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday. 

Maybe he knows, after just one date, that she’s his soulmate. He’ll buy the ring in a couple weeks. They’ll be engaged in a month’s time, and he’ll say he just couldn’t wait any longer. 

She’s the one thing I’ve been missing.

You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.

And then — he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.

He’s staring directly through the windshield. At you.

Fuck.

He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.

With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side. 

He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down. 

The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.

“You wanna fuckin’ explain what you’re doin’ here?” he snaps. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.

You know you’re in the wrong. You shouldn’t have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?

When your gaze finally meets his, he looks — distraught — jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I just wanted to see how you were with her.” And it’s the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but it’s the truth nonetheless.

“Doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”

“So what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, I’m sorry,” you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, “the guy I was fooling around with.”

This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.

“It wasn’t like that,” he grits

“No? Isn’t that all this was to you: fooling around?”

There’s a beat. Joel sighs. 

“No — fuck, no. Of course not.”

His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. “I tried callin’ you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” you admit.

He nods. Another beat.

“Did you kiss her?” you ask.

“No.” He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now. 

Your mouth goes dry.

“No?”

“No,” he repeats. “I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“You don’t want her?” 

“No,” he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. “I don’t want her.” 

“Why not?” 

He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face — warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.

“I don’t want her,” he says, voice an octave lower, “because I want you. I thought you knew that?” 

The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.

“You want me?” you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. “Prove it.”

Joel doesn’t hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.

It’s sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He’s groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can’t get close enough, as if he’ll only be satisfied once he’s swallowed you whole. You’re pretty sure you want him to.

Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat. 

And then he’s back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw. 

Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. You’ve missed this, god, you’ve missed this — but it’s still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt — you’re not picky. Just need him in whatever way he’ll provide.

“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep. 

He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks through labored breaths. 

“Need you — please.”

He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs. 

Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.

Your breath catches. 

You know what he’s really asking: are you going to  let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?

But you don’t care. In fact, you’re way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take what’s his.

You nod frantically. “Yes,” you pant. “Please.”

Joel nods too, as if he’s accepting his fate. He’s going to fuck his friend’s daughter in the passenger seat of her car. There’s no way around it — not when you’re begging for it. He’s going to give you what you need.

“Okay,” he soothes, “I got you baby.” 

He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.

He doesn’t bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then you’re pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.

You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. “Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Take it; it’s yours.”

His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist. 

You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. He’s so thick, stretching you like it’s the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.

“Fuck,” Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.

“Gotta move baby — please move.”

He’s so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.

Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You can’t suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.

Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. He’s relentlessly hitting that spot — the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life. 

It’s approaching too quickly; he’s going to make you come.

One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry it’ll pop. 

Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.

“Oh f— ahh, oh my—“

“That’s it,” he coos, “you got it, babygirl.”

His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. You’re wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.

His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.

“Cmon, baby,” you goad, “please fill me up.”

He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You don’t move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like he’s afraid to let you go.

You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.

You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You don’t have the energy to care.

Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joel’s chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.

“Joel,” you say.

He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.

“Yeah?” He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“About wanting me.” In truth, you’re not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. You’re done sharing him.

“Oh, baby,” he drawls. “Of course I do. You’re all I want. Do you want me?”

And it’s a stupid question. He has to know that. You’re nodding before he can even finish it. “Yes,” you breathe. “I want you, Joel”

“Then it’s settled. It’s me and you. No more…interlopers.”

You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driver’s seat with achy legs.

You’ve never felt more content than you do in this moment.

Still, you’ll have to hide — won’t be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad — and neither will Joel. 

You don’t care much, not as long as he’s yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.

“Joel,” you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind…being a secret? Don’t mind keeping me a secret?”

He looks at you like you have two heads.

He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure you’re listening.

“I want you — doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t know. Long as you’re mine.”

Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.

“I’m yours?”

He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning. 

It all feels somehow sweeter, now.

“Yeah, angel. You’re mine. My girl.”

end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.

Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)

tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673