#holy shit this is too many tags for comfort there has to be another way

[fanfictilltheend]

❤️‍🔥Violent Heart Part 2:  ♪Remember when I moved in you, and the holy dove was moving too ♫ (or the VERY DARK Stepdad!Mechanic!Covict!Joel x Afab!you one)❤️‍🔥

Hi I apologize that a lot of these reference pics are just of white girls. I tried to find "aesthetic" images that go with the story but so many of them are just of white people and I want to call myself out for this because in the fic's only descriptors are that she has hair and is AFAB -- nothing about race. I also realize that all of the girls in this are skinny too and Y/N's body type is never specified. Sorry fam!! These images are just to get the creative juices flowing and don't truly depict anything from the fic!!

A/n: It’s here!!!!!! 18+ Only. This took me 7 freaking months so you mofos better like, reblog, and comment. This is both my most and least personal fic I’ve ever written and it is dark and relies heavily on plot (smut this time tho!!) READ ALL OF THE TAGS DO NOT COME FOR ME UNLESS YOU DID THIS FR FR. This ones for my dark joel fangirlies(guys and NBies) and the daddy issues fam ily ❤️‍🔥 (also not me naming my fic in part after hallelujah by leonard cohen but there is a reason!!!!!!!!!!)

Summary: Part 2 picks up with Y/N at age 20 and how her relationship with Joel has changed and gets steamier.  SMUT and feelings <3 Also check out this playlist of music that’s in the fic!!!!

Tags (PLEASE READ): Afab!you, pov change, Infidelity, threats, age gap, dressing Joel up (swear I wrote this before he wore that outfit to the SAG awards — the mr.Darcy-core one), racist comment (from Y/N’s douchey boyfriend), douchey boyfriend, confidence issues, feelings, voyeurism, masturbation (m and f), kissing, penis in vagina sex — unprotected (wear a condom), lightest hint of ass play, scar worship?? kinda??, daddy issues, daddy kink, using music lyrics to move the plot, multiple orgasms (m and f), religion and god discussions, stepcest (kinda bc technically he is divorced from her mother), tagging psuedo-incest just to be safe!!, use of y/n

Word Count: ~13k

PART 1

AO3 Link

Violent Heart Masterlist

Full Masterlist of all my work

If you’re being honest, you’ve always had a little crush on Joel Miller. How could you not have? The first day you’d met him had been like some kind of fucked up yet extremely satisfying whirlwind of a daydream. He’d come in, broad and tall and strong, and saved you from your evil (though you do love him somewhere deep, deep down) older brother’s onslaught. Protected you like a knight in shining armor from his punching, beating fists. Treated and touched you so tenderly, so many miles different from how your own father did that you’d been hit with whatever the pleasant opposite of whiplash is. And the way he finally punished Aiden after years of his reign of terror, the violence of it, the justice of it. You didn’t have words for it then, but the way you looked into Joel’s eyes when he was doling out that righteous punishment became some kind of strange secret understanding between the two of you. Maybe it was the first sign of love? You aren’t sure.

As a kid, he’d given you what you like to think of as quiet butterflies. They were always there when he spoke to you, looked at you, touched you, beat the shit out of your father and brother for you, but they were faint enough that you could ignore them. It was a comforting, fluttering kind of love, a gradual understanding of your loyalty to one another. But then puberty hit and the insects became incessantly loud when you thought of, wrote to, or talked to him. They ate at your heart day after day while Joel was in prison – the longing, the missing. Aiden told you that you were obsessed with him. Your mother told you to forget him, that he would forget you. But somehow, he didn’t. You wonder if those bugs live in him too. You wonder if they are quiet or loud and if they gnaw .

You think that they are probably loud. You think this for a few reasons. The first is that you know for a fact, you can feel it in the lining of your soul, and from the evidence of his constant correspondence and care for you, that he is just as obsessed with you as you are with him. The second reason is the fact that you think but aren’t one hundred percent sure is that the last time you’d hugged him he’d gotten a little hard (you don’t want to think too much into that because he is only a man who had been deprived of touch for a long time – but still you wonder…). And the third is the way he looks at you like you are the universe like you are the last drop of nectar and he is the last butterfly left on Earth in a famine. 

That’s how he’s looking at you now in the passenger seat of his old, clunky pickup. You know that he wanted to drive, but you wanted to show him how well you could because he had never seen. Never had the chance to see how well you had fixed, maintained, and took care of his baby and of course he gave into you like he always does. He's smiling at you quietly, but his eyes contain multitudes. Right now mostly pride at your driving.

Joel is a bit different than how you remember sitting near him in the truck the last time you were together, him as a free man, you as a little girl. Somehow, even though you are obviously bigger now, he still seems massive and broad and stronger than ever. His biceps are huge – probably from all the time he had to work out in prison – and peeking out under his blue t-shirt that you brought for him, you think you see the outlines of some tattoos. You look a little closer. On his right arm is text in curvy black ink. You think it reads, “Sarah.” You smile softly at that. On his other arm is a strange orange shape that you have to squint at to understand. The edges of the object are jagged but they form a shape like a badge – and then you know what it is! It is the guitar pick you made for Joel as a child. The one that had pricked his finger and drawn blood and he stuck it in his wallet. You can’t articulate how honored you feel that Joel loved you enough to tattoo something you made for him on his body, permanently, forever. 

“ Well , the light only turned green damn near eons ago,” he complains about your driving, but you know he is just teasing.

There is hardly anything wrong you can ever do in Joel’s eyes. He grins at you a bit lopsidedly and you smile back. You also can’t help but notice the greying of his brown hair. It’s a bit longer than it used to be too and the length gives it a little bit less of a shaggy look. You think it suits him, makes him look a bit older and more distinguished than when he first came into your life twelve years ago. 

Objectively, you know it’s weird to think that your ex-stepdad who is a convicted felon is hot, but it’s just something you’ve always known and thought like that the sky is blue or that orange is your favorite color. You know it’s weird to think of someone who was? – is? – supposed to be a father figure to you that way, but it’s already second nature at this point. You’ve had a few boyfriends (luckily all of them had treated you right), but none of the feelings you’ve ever had for them have compared to the cosmic-sized love and affection you have for Joel and you’ve never known anything different. The years you spent longing, missing, loving, obsessing over, and aching for him in every way under the sun, can’t be healthy, you know this, but they have eclipsed practically every other relationship in your life. No one has ever made you feel as safe and protected and loved as Joel has. No one else has ever looked at you the way he does. No one else’s entire existence has revolved around you the way his has. The sheer devotion in his gaze is enough to make the butterflies inside you scream and beat their wings against your insides like hungry bats. 

And you especially know you shouldn’t have these feelings about another human being violent enough to be capable of taking a life – inebriated or not. You’re grown now and know the man he killed was a scum-of-the-Earth child predator, and secretly you’ve always wondered if there was more to the story than Joel told the police in the official court transcripts you’d read as an adult, maybe even something to do with you since you had been there that day in the repair shop when they met , but you haven’t pressed because you’re sure the whole thing is quite traumatic for Joel and if he ever wants to tell you, you know he will. And more importantly, you don’t really care. Drunken, violent idiot or not, you were already deeply invested and never intended on wavering in that. You’re not sure there’s anything Joel could do to get you to stop loving him and that both terrifies and excites you. 

“Okay, whatcha wanna eat?” you ask, reaching out to rub Joel’s shoulder gently. “Now that you’re free you can have whatever you want! On my mom’s credit card of course. Swear I won’t tell her.”

Joel grins.

“Deal,” he tells you. “I was thinking of a nice steak dinner.”

***

You pull into the fanciest restaurant you can find in the tri-state area and sit down to order a regal, all-American, full three-course steak dinner (though you’re both woefully underdressed – not that you care – though the host gives you a dirty look). All the while, you tell Joel about your major (psychology) and how you want to become a counselor for abused children.

“That’s sort of beautiful, sweetheart,” he tells you with a genuine smile that used to be so hard to coax from him, but now seems to float over to you so easily and gently like a kiss from something as soft as the wings of a butterfly. “Wanting to help defenseless children. You’re kinda like a guardian angel for them, ya know? Damn proud of ya! Also, these mashed potatoes are goddamn delectable!” he exclaims after taking an experimental bite. “Have I mentioned that prison food is shit?”

You smile bashfully and want to tell him that he is your guardian angel (you wonder if he thinks the same of you) and inspiration in a backward sort of way for wanting to help kids in the first place since he was so good at protecting you for the most part (though you obviously don’t believe violence is the correct answer in your line of future work). But kids need protectors. Somehow you know that deep down you forgive him for all of the violence he caused because you would forgive him for anything. And him being proud of you? You don’t think there’s a better feeling in the world than that! You burst with pride. Your real father never said that to you, but Joel doesn’t feel like your father now. He is something different entirely. Something that entirely belongs to you.

“And you’ll meet my boyfriend, Max, tomorrow,” you nod as Joel moves onto the steak and lets out a soft moan at how good it tastes. “He’s heard a lot about you.”

Joel’s face flattens.

“And who is this kid exactly?” he sneers a little, attacking the steak with his knife. 

You smile internally at the obvious jealousy he’s trying to hide from his voice.

“Hey, Max is a decent guy!” you insist in his defense. “He’s pre-law. Real smart. He’s gonna be an important person someday, I know it. You’ll get on.”

That last part is a bit of a lie since you’re not sure the two will actually like each other. 

Joel examines your face, looks deep into your eyes.

“All I know is, just because someone is important, don’t mean they’re good to you or for you for that matter.” 

You can’t help but think of your father, the most “important” man you know and how much of a degenerate he is compared to someone ostensibly average like Joel who didn’t even have a status symbol like a college degree and how perfect of a man you think he is, despite his obvious flaws. You blush a little, scrunching up your nose. 

“Just lookin’ out for you, sweetheart,” he continues, smiling at the way you do. “He ever fuck with you – he ever break your heart, you know just where to send him, alright?”

“Yeah, Joel,” you grin. “Don’t need you getting any more jail time though, alright?” “You may have made a valid point,” he concedes with a smirk. 

***

When you two enter your shitty, one-bedroom apartment it’s already dark outside. Joel actually grins when he notices his and your guitars have both been mounted on the wall. 

“We can play ‘em tomorrow,” you tell him excitedly. “If you want to, I mean…”

“Hell yeah, I do,” Joel smiles. “Wanna hear ya singing for me, honey. I missed that.”

You smile to yourself.

“You can have my bed, and I’ll take the couch,” you decide, getting back to business. 

“No way, babygirl. I ain’t taking your bed.”

“Joel, you’ve literally been on a prison mattress for eight fucking years! Can’t imagine that’s been very comfortable.”

“That’s exactly why I won’t mind the couch. That’ll feel like heaven to me. Don’t want you messin’ up your back, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth, but Joel beats you.

“And that’s that,” he insists. 

“Alright, alright,” you concede, knowing by the look on his face he’s not budging. If one thing, Joel has always been stubborn, but you like that about him. “D’you wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Actually, baby, if ya don’t mind, I’d like a quick shower. Been dreaming about taking a real, private one for ages.”

“Yeah, of course!” you nod, motioning toward your bathroom door. “Towels are under the sink.”

Joel makes his way inside and soon steam is billowing out the bottom of the door. 

You busy yourself with some homework, but just as you walk past the door to grab a glass of water, you think you hear Joel singing.

You listen more closely over the fall of the running water and make out him singing the chorus of an old ABBA song with a deeper, sadder tone to it,

♪ “ Slipping through my fingers all the time / I try to capture every minute / The feeling in it / Slipping through my fingers all the time / Do I really see what's in her mind? / Each time I think I'm close to knowing / She keeps on growing / Slipping through my fingers all the time…” ♫

You feel like such a sap, but you feel a tear forming in your eye at the way Joel must be thinking about his and your relationship and everything he missed in your life. You aren’t mad at him, but his absence hurt in a way you didn’t know you could feel. And you’ve never blamed him, really, but the lack of him for eight years of milestones really did kill a piece of you. You can’t help but imagine a butterfly at the bottom of your stomach with its wings pulled off. That’s how you felt all that time without Joel – like a butterfly without wings. A writhing worm of a human being, senseless and lost in a giant world full of forces you couldn’t control. 

You listen to Joel’s beautiful, deep voice until you hear him turn off the tap and you scurry away and act innocent. 

Joel emerges from the bathroom then with nothing but a white towel around his waist, steam from the shower floating lazily into the room behind him like precession. And oh, wow, is he ever a sight to behold. His hair is wet, dark brown flecked with grey, and starting to get curly from the moisture. You also can’t help but notice his broad chest, the expanse of it, the dark curls of hair, his bulking, muscular tattooed arms, his soft, hairy tummy, the V-shape of muscle that descends beneath the towel, his happy trail. You are overwhelmed by the soaking beauty of him. You’d seen Joel shirtless before, sure, but it had never felt like this . 

“Gon’ grab some of those clothes you bought for me and then maybe we could watch something?” Joel asks as you try so fucking hard not to stare at him.

“Sure!” you squeak, staring down at your notebook at the kitchen counter. 

You think you see a smirk from Joel, but you're not sure because your gaze is averted as he grabs some clothes to change into and disappears back into the bathroom.

When he reemerges, dressed in a wifebeater and shorts that accentuate his form, you two sit next to each other on your cushy sofa and surf the TV for something to watch. You feel Joel’s hairy knees against your jean-clad one and your heart flutters.

“Can’t believe I’m really here,” Joel says softly as you pass re-runs of Full House, a dog show. “Like I gotta fuckin’ pinch myself to know it’s not a dream.”

Suddenly you feel a large, weathered hand on your cheek.

“Missed you so much, babygirl,” he murmurs, looking into your eyes, massaging the line of your jaw ever so lightly, trying to hold your skittish gaze. “More than I even have words for.”

First, you avoid looking at him a bit bashfully, but then you stare up cautiously into those big brown eyes that feel like a familiar kind of home and you’re such a goner. You lean into his warmth, the warmth of his hand.

“Missed you too, Joel. So much,” you admit, never wanting this moment to end or him to let go of you. “More than anything.”

He leans forward a little and for a second you think…but then he’s leaning in and planting a heavy kiss on your forehead. A kiss that has weight to it – not those soft, weak ones that Max gives you haphazardly when he’s drunk or high – the only time he’s brave enough to be vulnerable with you. This kiss says something, means it so sincerely too. 

“Love you, honey,” he tells you. Then his face falls. “Sorry I…wasn’t quite there to say that to you enough in person.”

“It’s okay, Joel. I forgive you,” you insist. “I love you so much, dummy. More than you even know!”

But you truly do appreciate the sentiment. 

***

You settle on an old, black and white classic, Paper Moon, that’s playing on the TV Land channel.

Joel wraps a big arm around you and you snuggle close. You’re pretty sure there isn’t a better feeling in the world than being this close to him. Even after all these years he still smells like Joel; like home (and, if you’re being honest, a bit like your vanilla shampoo) .

You lean against him, your cheek pressing into one of his firm pecs. You begin to feel sleepy, drunk on the steady sound of his heartbeat, alive and beating against you and really here . 

You nod off.

***

At first, you don’t believe it, but you feel someone with strong, firm arms lifting you into the air, cradling your back and the insides of your knees in a bridal-style carry. The movement wakes you, but you don’t open your eyes because the safety and security you feel is too good to give up. Joel carries you to your bedroom and lays you down gently in your bed. You’re still in day clothes and shoes so Joel takes off your worn sneakers with a feather-light touch and places them at the foot of the bed – you can tell from the soft thumps it makes. He maneuvers you so tenderly under the covers and tucks you in with love and care. You wonder the last time someone did that for you and pull up a blank. If anyone ever did that for you it was probably Joel. Maybe your mom did when you were really young. Certainly your father nor Aiden ever did �� your father hadn’t liked to touch you except out of anger – kind of like you had some kind of weird, contagious disease. Aiden’s hands had almost always hurt too, but not Joel’s – never his. 

He breaks you from your thoughts by pressing another kiss to your forehead. Your eyes are still closed so you aren’t sure, but you think he watches you for a second and lets out a long sigh. 

Then you hear your bedroom door close softly so as not to disturb you. You smile, you can’t help it, and drift back off into a peaceful sleep.

***

You wake up to a mumbling, grunting sort of sound. You look over at your clock and read 3:42 a.m. You sit up. You can kind of hear some muffled noises coming from outside your room. At first, you feel a little concerned – like maybe Joel is in pain or something as he is the only one who could be making the noises. The walls in your apartment are paper-thin. Like you could hear him sneeze clear as day if he were to because sound travels through the shitty walls so easily. You should have told him that. But what the fuck is he doing up at 3 a.m.? 

You creep (and you mean creep) silently to the door of your bedroom and open it the tiniest crack. The way your apartment is laid out, the back of the sofa is the first thing you see and the back of Joel’s head about six feet away. He doesn’t sound in pain the way he’s groaning and then you understand exactly what he’s doing. Of course the man is jerking off! After being in prison, stuck around people for so long of course he wanted a good, private wank. He isn’t looking at anything from what you can tell, no magazines or anything. Must be using his imagination. You wonder what he’s thinking about, if he’s gotten good at that over the years.

You should turn around, slink back into bed, and cover your ears with a pillow so the man can have some privacy. But, fuck, the way he’s grunting. His voice is so fucking deep and sexy and then he lets out a soft, vulnerable moan and you feel heat envelope your whole body. You think you hear a soft fuck roll off his tongue and your heart almost beats right out of your chest. You can hear the lewd slapping of his fist on skin getting louder and more intense. Then you hear a soft take it, fuck. And Jesus, you are so fucking wet between your thighs. You ought to be ashamed. Instead, you reach down your hand feverishly beneath the band of your jeans and soaking underwear instinctively to stroke yourself ever so slightly. You sigh in relief, but you are fucking gushing, your fingers covered in your slick. You can’t see anything besides the back of Joel’s head, technically, so this couldn’t be that wrong, could it? He lets out a soft groan, you can tell he’s holding back so as not to be heard, but the desperation in the pathetic little noises this hulking man is making is turning on every switch inside you. Oh how you want to go over there and take him in your mouth, to taste him. God you are so fucked up! You’re still touching yourself gently, not really fully going at it yet, considering the possibilities that could follow if you went over there. But before you can decide to do anything, Joel positively whines, moans, and grunts fuck, unh, and you think but aren’t sure, babygirl, and finishes.

You stop dead still in what you’re doing. Did he really say “babygirl” or was that just your horny-ass imagination playing tricks on you? You’ve never heard Joel call anyone babygirl except you. Was he really thinking of you? On the one hand, if true, mega fucked up. On the other, wow, incredibly hot. You think about going over there and asking him to finish you off or something as crazy as in all those dumb romance novels you used to read in middle school, but just as quickly as the idea comes to you, you hear another noise: loud snoring. Joel is asleep.

Typical.

You snort to yourself. That was so quintessentially Joel. You don’t want to disturb him now. The moment has passed. And only then is when you remember you have a fucking boyfriend. 

That doesn’t stop you from closing your door softly, crawling back into bed, and reaching your hand down beneath your panties to touch yourself. You stroke your clit, imagining it is Joel’s rough hand rubbing against you. Holy fuck. You haven’t been this wet since you used to touch yourself thinking about him in the past. It’s like he can reach every part of you, every layer in a way that no one else can. You know the whole thing is so fundamentally fucked up, but you can resist sinking into your favorite fantasy. The smell, the touch, the feel of him. You imagine the noises he was making so beautifully on the couch, feel heat coil through your entire body, and immediately cum hard without even sticking a finger inside yourself. 

The pleasure you feel is so unparalleled and real you have to cover your hand with your mouth not to scream out your powerful orgasm. 

Sweat drenches your whole body as you come down. 

God, you are so fucked.

***

The next morning you wake up to the wafting smell of someone cooking eggs. You emerge from your room a little sheepishly from last night’s events to find Joel behind the kitchen counter making eggs and toast. 

“Mornin’, babygirl,” he grins, his eyes shining like he’s excited about something.

And then you realize: that something is you.

You grin back.

“Good morning, Joel,” you beam at him.

You were so afraid things would feel awkward after what you heard last night, but nothing ever feels awkward with Joel. In some ways, he’s still just your average dorky, friendly old ex-stepdad, convicted felon. In other ways, everything about him sets your heart on fire, but it would be stupid to ruin what you have with him because you think it’s remotely possible he might be interested back. You know this is dramatic, but if he flat-out rejected you, you think you might die. Truly. Like those butterflies inside you would beat their wings so hard they’d burst your heart.

“‘Membered you liked ‘em poached,” he nods, breaking you from your thoughts. 

He scoops two poached eggs onto one of your plates and grabs a piece of toast from the toaster which he smears with butter like how you used to eat toast as a kid. You can’t believe he remembered.

“Thanks so much,” you tell him.

He grabs a few eggs and toast for himself and sits beside you at the counter. 

“Nice to be able to cook me ‘n you some real food,” he remarks. “If I eat one more cup o’ noodles in my lifetime I swear to God Almighty…” he trais off.

He’s looking at you like you put the goddamned sun in the sky. Your heart melts as you stare at his features, the faint curls in his hair. Oh, how you want to reach out and touch him. But that just isn’t how you operate. You won’t ruin what you already have.

The butterflies in your chest howl. 

***

` You lay out the day’s schedule to Joel. You have plenty of time to hang about (you see him eyeing the guitars), and then you need to go shopping for some actual clothes for Joel since the things you brought for him don’t constitute a proper wardrobe. Then you will go out to dinner and meet Max. 

Joel grunts a nod at that last part. He doesn’t seem too thrilled.

“Wanna show me what you’ve been playing?” he asks hopefully as he gets up to put both of your plates in the sink,

“‘Course!” you nod enthusiastically. “Max says I need to work on my fingerpicking so I can’t promise it’ll be all that good.”

Joel rolls his eyes.

“Show me what you’ve got.”

***

You sit down on the couch right next to Joel, each of you holding your respective guitars in hand, across your laps. 

Joel looks ecstatic to have his guitar back in his hands. He fiddles with the tuning and finger-picks a faint melody.

“Haven’t played one since the prison band. But then some dumb motherfucker clobbered another sorry son of a bitch to death with a saxophone so that ended our music privileges,” Joel explains. 

“Jeez,” you reply.

Joel is sitting so close you can feel his body heat. You just want to hear him sing, but he insists on hearing you.

“Joel,” you try as innocently as possible. “D’you remember how to do an A-flat? I forget and I need it for my song.”

“Sure, baby. Lemme help ya. Now put one finger on this bit of the 4th fret here,” he begins, snaking a big arm around your shoulders so he can maneuver your fingers to the correct position. 

His touch is electric. He feels so good and warm. You feel the intense urge to climb into his lap and embrace and stay there forever. His big caloused hand full of scars places your fingers correctly for the chord. The same hand that must have jerked himself to completion last night…You can’t help but wonder how much cum there was…The truth is, you know how to make an A-flat. You just wanted to feel him.

He backs away and you whine internally at the loss.

“There we go,” he says soothingly, reaching out to rub your shoulder. “That one can be tricky. Now where is my performance?”

Your nerves are squirming around inside you but you begin to play and sing to the best of your ability. 

You look into Joel’s eyes.

♪“ You've got a heart on fire / It's bursting with desire / You've got a heart filled with passion /  Will you let it burn for hate or compassion?” ♫ you sing. 

Joel watches you intently, sitting up straighter. 

♪ “What's the point with a love / That makes you hate and kill for? ♪

You sing as best and as seriously as you can. You look up and think you maybe see a tear in Joel’s eye.

When you finish, it’s clear Joel is finding it hard to select the right words to convey what he’s feeling. 

“I–” he tries. “That was…well, let me just show you how I can answer that if anyone ever could to a performance as beautiful as that.”

You blush. 

He begins to finger-pick a familiar tune, Instantly, you are transported back to eight years old in the back of Joel’s old pickup truck, listening to one of his many cassette tapes. It’s “I’ll Never Find Another You” by The Seekers. The original version of the song is pretty happy and upbeat, but the way Joel sings it slowly in his deep and weathered voice makes you feel sad and achy inside. The emotion behind his voice is palpable.

♪ “But if I should lose your love, dear / I don't know what I'd do / For I know I'll never find another you / Another you / Another you…” ♫ he trails off.

It’s your turn to tear up a little. It’s crazy to know he means every word he’s singing too. He sings like every word is his last breath. When he finishes you are crying a little.

“You oughta record an album,” you sniffle, leaning into his shoulder, throwing him a side hug.

“Wanted to be a singer,” he replies with a small grin, leaning his head against yours. “Back when I was young.” 

You sit back up straight.

“You did? I never knew that.”

“Don’t tell nobody really,” Joel replies, looking a bit sad you left his immediate proximity. “Just a stupid dream ‘n all that crap.”

“‘S not stupid,” you tell him. “You really have a beautiful voice, Joel. It’s like if I could take it, hold on to it, and keep it forever in my chest pocket next to my heart, I would.”

“That’s where I keep you, baby,” he tells you honestly.

He reaches up a big hand to yours and guides your own to place it right on his heart over his plaid shirt. You can feel it beating steadily below your palm to the rhythm of something as delicate and ferocious as the beating of butterfly wings.

“Right here.”

***

You take Joel shopping. At his insistence it is nothing fancy, just the local department store. That doesn’t stop you from dressing Joel up in ridiculous outfits of your choosing. You make him try on a Hawaiian shirt, some golf polos like your dad liked to wear, a pinstripe suit and he lets you because saying no to you has never been in his vocabulary. He acts grumpy on the outside, but you can tell he is amused. You know in the end, you’ll just end up buying every flannel shirt and jeans combo they have in the store, but it’s just fun anyway. You watch the fabric hug his torso, his tummy, the slight bulge at his waist. At one point he comes out shirtless and you try very hard not to swoon as you stare at the hair lining his chest and his adorable little tummy that you for some reason have the urge to bite. The band of his Hanes boxers sticks up past his jeans and he looks so good. He even lets out a genuine smile. The middle-aged sales attendant who is helping you even takes a good look at him which makes the butterflies inside you swarm possessively. 

Finally, you make him try on a proper white-collared button-down shirt and black dress pants with matching black shoes and he looks so good you’re actually at a loss for words when he asks you what you think. They hug the curves and lines and planes of his body so nicely. All you can do is ask him to put on a black tie to match and he does at your behest following some customary griping that he would never wear such a monkey suit in the first place. The effect that a fully dressed-up Joel has on you is not one to be reckoned with. He might as well be wearing the men’s version of lingerie for how it makes you throb and ache between your legs. He looks like a force of nature, commanding and tall. It makes you weak. All you say is,

“Looking good, old-timer.”

He snorts.

When you finally ditch all the fun clothes and grab the essentials, Joel offers to go pick up the car while you pay. He tries to give you his eight-year-old credit card, but you insist on treating him on the condition he buys the “monkey suit.” After a bit of prodding, he gives in and you go to the sales attendant to pay at the counter. 

“Your dad is really cute,” the sales attendant giggles to you as she rings up the pile of clothes. 

Your cheeks go a bit red. You don’t really care enough to correct her.

“He’s my guy,” is all you say absentmindedly as you fish out your wallet from your purse.

The sales attendant hands you the receipt and on it, you see a scrawled phone number.

“For If he’s single,” she explains. “I’m Barb from sales.”

You look her over. She’s close to Joel’s age and conventionally pretty with long brown hair. The exact kind of woman Joel should be dating should he choose to get back in the game. Your stomach twists and the butterflies howl inside you.

You take the receipt, thank her, and join Joel back in the car (who is more than happy to be driving this time). 

“What took so long?” he asks casually. “You two writing a novel in there?”

You think seriously about what you should do. You consider letting the bugs have their way and tearing the receipt with Barb’s number on it to shreds. But you want good things for Joel. The chance of you two ever being together the way you wish is so far-fetched that you know you shouldn’t even be thinking it. A literal pipe dream. He was your stepdad for christsakes. He literally fucked your mother! (Gross!). Barb is exactly the kind of woman Joel should be going after if he’s up to dating right now. You hand him the receipt begrudgingly. 

“Sales Lady likes you,” you sat flatly. “Name is Barb.”

“Oh,” he says softly like he’s a bit flattered. 

He looks back at her through the glass door of the store and she waves at him. He waves back politely. You feel your stomach twisting into knots. 

“You think…you think you’re gonna call her?” you finally ask as casually as humanly possible, dreading the answer. 

Joel looks over at you, his gaze sweeping over you. Then looks back at Barb through the window. He looks her up and down.

“Nah,” he says with a smirk, looking back at you. “She ain’t my type. Only need one girl in my life right now anyways,” he winks.

Was that Joel flirting? With you?

Regardless, you smile back and then sigh in relief and grin to yourself as you two drive away. 

Much to your satisfaction, Joel crumples up the receipt and throws it out the window for good measure. 

***

You get ready for dinner, to go to a nice Mexican-Japanese fusion restaurant that Max picked out. You wear a red dress that accentuates your figure and matching heels and to your shock, Joel reemerges from the bathroom in the white button-down shirt and black dress pants you picked out for him (you had been sure flannel would be part of his ensemble). God, he looks good. A part of you wants to ditch Max and just stay here with Joel forever. He looks you over, his dark eyes sweeping over your frame. You think there is a tinge of possessiveness in his voice when he says,

“ Christ, you look beautiful, babygirl.”

***

You arrive before Max and sit down at the fancy white table-cloth-covered table next to Joel, a booth facing you. Max finally makes an appearance a half hour late and sits down across from you, sweeping his hair out of his face, sliding into the booth. Joel is frowning and the butterflies beat their wings inside you nervously.

“Sorry I’m late,” Max announces, puffing out his chest a little and smoothing out his collared shirt as he looks down at his watch and then over at Joel. “Hey, baby,” he says to you. Then, “And, uh, nice to meet you. Joe, was it? Heard a lot about you.”

“Joel,” Joel replies flatly, eyeing Max.

Max is a good-looking guy, everyone says so, but he looks more like a little boy than you’ve ever thought as he squirms uneasily in his seat under Joel’s unrelenting gaze and launches into a tirade about his frat’s inter-mural lacrosse team practice and how his team should have totally won the scrimmage and that’s why he’s late. And of course, he was the one to score the most goals.

“And the taxi cab driver was a nightmare. Only spoke Spanish. It’s like, if you come to this country speak fucking English, am I right?”

You notice Joel’s jaw tighten and his fingers clench. 

“Max, that’s so rude!” you tell him, frowning. “We’re at a fucking Mexican restaurant!”

“Anyway,” Max continues, rolling his eyes at the interruption like he barely even heard you, smirking. “Where’d you go to school? What do you do for work, Joel?  Besides making license plates, I mean. Kidding!” he insists as you stare daggers at him. 

Joel leans forward ever so slightly but you slip your leg over his to hold him back and he calms down a fraction. It’s like when you touch him, everything tense in him melts away. 

Joel sits up straighter in his chair and looks at you, stretching his arm across the back of your seat protectively like it’s a casual thing and not an unconscious sign of possessiveness.

“I’m a mechanic,” he grunts unceremoniously to Max. “I mean, I was anyways…Didn’t go to school.”

Max frowns ever so slightly. 

“You didn’t go to college? You must’ve gone to trade school at least?”

“Nope. Picked up what I know over the years. Not everyone gets a free ride from their parents,” Joel smirks.

“Free ride?” Max snaps. “I’ll have you know I spend every summer interning at a law firm!”

“Yeah, your dad’s,” you can’t help but snicker.

Max’s cheeks turn a bit pink.

“At least I’m not a psych major,” he shoots back. “I mean, no offense, babe!”

“What’s wrong with psychology?” Joel snarls, his eyes darkening. “You ought to be proud to have such a thoughtful and intelligent girl like Y/N studying such a topic.”

It’s your turn for your cheeks to go pink. 

“Joel–”

“Who said I wasn’t?” Max sneers. 

That makes you feel a bit better. 

“I’m just saying, she could have inherited the second-best law firm in the tri-state area from her pops if she was pre-law like me,” he smirks.

Your smile fades, used to hearing this kind of shit from him. He knows you and your father don’t get along at all, but not the full extent of it. He also knows you don’t have an interest in pre-law. But you swallow down how you really feel.

“It’s fine, Joel,” you tell him, placing a hand down on his thigh.

It’s not that you enjoy the way Max has been talking to you, but you are so used to it from the men in your life that it feels like the common denominator must be you. And sometimes it feels like maybe they have some kind of point. And fighting back only makes things worse. You’ve learned that over the years the hard way.

“It’s not fine!” he snaps like he’s trying to get you to see sense, looking deeply insulted on your behalf. Your heart thunders in your chest. “This boy has never worked an honest day in his life and he’s telling you what you ought to be doing? Bet his hands are soft as a baby’s ass. He doesn’t know shit about you, babygirl.”

You may not know the hardship of labor that Joel has taken on in his life, but your hands are not smooth. They are full of scars. And Joel is right. Max’s are soft like silk. You look down at the most prominent, ugly scar on your middle finger. You don’t even know which man in your life gave it to you. But you do know it means something. Shows you survived something. Survived your stupid father too, not that Max seems to care.

But Max never loses. 

“Whatever,” he smirks dismissively. “Sorry I’m not some, like, common blue-collar worker. But I guess I should be taking advice from someone who became a fucking convicted felon ‘cause they drank too much one night,” he shrugs with a terrible sneer.  

You know it’s over then.

But Joel surprises you. Doesn’t immediately strangle Max like you thought he might. Simply stands up tall and silent over Max’s frame which has suddenly begun to shake ever so slightly in obvious fear, his blue eyes widening. Joel’s fists are clenched tightly at his sides. 

“Wouldn’t mind them sendin’ me right back in, ” Joel growls low. “Drunk or not.”

You shiver and Max positively cowers. 

“Got something to say? Don’t wanna take it outside?” Joel leers, smirking ever so slightly at the trembling boy before him. “I’d even let a little boy like you take the first swing.”

“Your stepdad’s a freak, Y/N,” Max stammers, not taking his eyes off of Joel. 

“Joel, it’s fine, okay?” you growl, not wanting him to actually hurt your boyfriend. Let alone in public! “Shouldn’t talk about Joel like that though, Max! Jesus!”

“Babe, I’m sorry, okay?” Max tries, eyeing back and forth between you and Joel. “I’m just trying to look out for you. I don’t get what you see in him with a real Dad like yours! Your dad has so much to give you!”

Look out for you? So much to give you? What could he possibly give besides a stupid law firm and two black eyes? 

Max looks a bit desperate. Him apologizing for anything is actually a new concept for you. Your heart twitches ever so slightly. He must actually like you a lot. But Joel would never do anything to hurt you if it was in his power. At least not intentionally, unlike your real father. 

“That’s it. I’m leaving,” Joel snarls moodily, turning around. “Don’t want to do things I might regret to Mr.Future-Corporate-Lawyer over here. Have fun with him .”

Joel looks deeply hurt. Like you are choosing Max over him or something. That’s never what this has been about, has it? Doesn’t Joel know you’d do anything for him? That the hurt on his face hurts you more than anything you’ve ever felt. Ever.

“Joel, wait!” you decide and disappear after him, leaving Max behind at the table.

“Babe, what the fuck!?” Max yells, but you don’t care. “Come back here!”

***

You ride back in silence, Joel’s hands turning white against his grip on the steering wheel. 

When you break through to the front door of your apartment, Joel finally snaps, the anger on his face directed at something that feels like you for the first time in your life.

“You really love that little son of a bitch, don’t you?” he sneers, uncharacteristically harshly towards you. 

“So what if I did?” you shoot back, a little shocked. “It’s none of your business, Joel. What the fuck?”

“It is so my business,” he snaps back. “That kid is no good for you, Y/N. He doesn’t understand you. You deserve someone much better than that who will actually go to the ends of the earth for you. He wouldn’t do anything for you.”

There is a desperation and vulnerability in Joel’s words and tone that you’re not sure you’ve heard before. He sounds like he had been waiting the whole car ride to say this, maybe even his whole life. You aren’t sure.

“Max does give a shit about me,” you try to convince yourself, getting angrier. “I mean at least he was there for me while you were gone.”

Joel flinches.

“How do you know what’s so good for me and what’s not when you dipped out of my life for eight years?” you continue harshly. “Because why? It wasn’t because you were drunk, was it? It was because you couldn’t control your anger. You never could.”

He stares at you.

“I controlled it for you,” Joel says so quietly you almost miss it. “ You are the only reason I did any of it.”

“What?” you stammer, not sure you want to hear more. “W-what do you mean, Joel? Any of what?”

A million thoughts begin to run through your mind, but you push them aside. Theories about the case and your ideas of Joel’s true nature all threaten to drown you but you push them away.

“Do you want to know why I really killed that sick son of a bitch?” Joel asks dangerously after a long moment of silence. You stare at him, your body frozen. He looks down at his hands, flexing them like he can still feel them punching or around that disgusting man’s throat. “Why I killed him all those years ago? It was no accident, I’ll give you that. Manslaughter, my ass. I killed that scum of the Earth because he threatened you . To do terrible things to you with those disgusting hands of his. So I broke each one, but it wasn’t enough. I killed him because I didn’t want you to get hurt and because I didn’t want you to live in fear of him. I was tired, Y/N. Tired of being afraid for you in a world that doesn’t let you do shit except fight back. I loved you so much, Y/N, it hurt me. It scared me, but I couldn’t let him hurt you. I’d die before I let anyone hurt you again, not him, not your father, not Max, not anyone. You have to understand. I love –” 

And then it’s all over. You’re not sure who moves first, but you think it might be you. The butterflies are rustling and thundering and screeching inside you and you kiss him. And Joel kisses back, devouring your mouth in his. You grab the back of his graying brown hair and pull him as close to you as you think is humanly possible. He cradles the back of your head so gently you almost lose your breath. And you are kissing and kissing and kissing and kissing. There is nothing else in the universe except this kiss. You have never felt anything like this in your life. It is like every butterfly inside you has gone silent. It is like the world has stopped just for you and something new is forming inside you.

Joel killed that vile man for you. To keep you safe. Like he always said or showed that he would. He gave his life away for you. He did the unspeakable for you.

He bites down on your bottom lip and all your brain can manage to coherently think is: more, harder .

But then Joel is breaking away from you slowly.

NO! your heart cries out, the delicious pleasure and pain draining away from you. The butterflies swarm dangerously inside your chest, worse with every inch he travels from your lips.

“Joel,” you whine. “What? You…you don’t want–”

“Don’t even say that, Y/N,” he growls dangerously. “Of course I want you. How could I not? I have spent my entire life wanting you in some capacity, baby, but I ain’t no good for you either, alright? I…” he says slowly like it takes every inch of his body to agree to say this. “I am not a good man, Y/N. I never have been. I’ve done wrong in every chapter of my life. You deserve someone much better. I don’t want to hurt you. Physically or mentally. Our history… The damage I’ve done…” he trails off.

“You don’t understand,” you swallow, tears forming in your eyes. “You have already loved and hurt me more than any human being on planet Earth. And yet somehow there is nothing you could do that would keep me away from you, don’t you get that? The Joel Miller I love is not a good man and I don’t care. I want all of you. All of the pretty and crooked pieces you try to hide away from me. You killed a man with your bare hands, arguably one of the worst things a human can do, and I don’t care. I still want you, Joel. Maybe even more because of it. No one has ever loved me the way you do and that is the love I want and it terrifies me.”

A single tear falls down Joel’s right cheek. You reach up to wipe it away, but Joel grabs your hand on the way reflexively, so you help him wipe his own tears away. 

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I would move the Earth for you,” Joel whispers back.

“I know,” you nod. “I’ve always known. I–”

But he is kissing you again before you can say another word, like a man starved. You hold onto his cheeks, your fingers caressing his stubbly beard. 

“ Joel,” you whine when you break for air.

“I wanted this so badly,” he says softly, grinning a lopsided grin. “Can’t believe this is real.”

“Me too,” you giggle.

You have to lean up a bit, but you press your forehead to his gently.

“Oh, baby,” Joel smirks. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive, ya know that? You like

it when I go a little rough, honey?” he smirks down at you in satisfaction, reading your mind.

You have to stop yourself from getting lost in the warm pools of his brown eyes, your panties soaked.

He reaches an affectionate hand down to rub your side softly.

“This okay, babygirl?” he coos, massaging his hand down your torso.

“I’d let you do anything to me, don’t you know?” you snicker. “Pain or pleasure, it’s all the same to me. I like all of that. I just want you so bad.”

“Think a safe word is in order,” Joel grins, leaning down to kiss your neck. “How about ‘butterflies?’” you suggest. 

“Sounds good to me, baby,” he grins, looking genuinely happy for the first time in hours. 

He leans down and places a calloused hand around your throat, not squeezing (yet – you hope) and plants soft kisses and bites down your expanse of skin. 

“All mine,” he mutters into your skin. “My beautiful babygirl.”

You feel his erection pressing against you through his black dress pants which makes you moan softly.

His hand trails over your crotch and he starts rubbing over the tight fabric of your red dress.

“That okay?”

“Yes,” you whine. “Want more, Daddy.”

Oh shit. You don’t mean to say it like that! You know it is about ten levels of fucked up to call Joel that, but how is it your fault that in every fantasy that’s how you think of him? You figure you’re probably past the point of weird and every other standard of decency, but you’re still afraid.

“Sorry…” you mumble. “I–”

“No, no, baby,” Joel says quickly. “It’s alright, you can call me whatever you want. I don’t mind, sweetheart.”

“You think it’s weird,” you mumble again, further stupid tears forming in your eyes.

He snickers. 

“Baby, I think we’re beyond weird at this point. Let me show you how turned on it makes me.”

Joel takes your hand and places it on his crotch. He takes your left hand, the one with the scar and you cringe a little, but he is rock-hard.

That’s good because you’re positively drenched.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. Daddy likes that more than you know, alright?”

You take your hand back, smiling, but you cover your scarred finger, shocked he will allow this fantasy for you.

“Whatcha hidin’ from me, baby?” he asks, noticing the positioning of your hands.

“I hate that scar on my finger. ‘S so ugly,” you admit.

Joel looks flabbergasted. 

“That’s the last damn thing I think of when I look at you. Ugly? Who in the fuck told you that?”

“How it got there is ugly. It’s marred skin, looks gross,” you mumble.

Joel moves to take out his cock, and when you nod he unzips and unbuttons his dress pants, pulling out his length. You have fantasized about his cock for god knows how long so you are more than excited to see it. He reaches to place your left hand with the scarred fingers around the length of his dick, which is thick, but longer than you expected. The leaking head is almost purple and your mouth begins to water as you stroke him gently.

“It’s part of you,” Joel tells you, his eyes connecting with yours. “I love it. It shows you survived. Gonna jerk off to it, Daddy loves it so much. And when I’m done you’re gonna love it too. Swear I’ve got so many over the years I can barely even count ‘em. Even got a few on my middle finger. Maybe even one from a certain guitar pick you made me. Nothing like that could ever make me stop wanting you, ya know that, right?”

You smile and take your time stroking him, wanting to show him how much you love and care for him, scars and all.

He grunts softly, closing his eyes, but then shoos your hand away with a feverish kind of want. 

“Yeah, touch yourself now, baby. Daddy wants to see how wet you are for him. With that scarred finger. C’mon, now. ‘S gonna make you feel so good.”

You do as you’re told and reach down underneath your dress and begin to touch yourself, especially with your middle finger. You stroke your clit and then your dripping wet slit. You moan softly as Joel’s eyes rake over you, taking in every sigh and groan you emit. The butterflies are forming something big inside you, which presses against the inside of your tummy and ribcage.

“Daddy,” you whine.

“Enough, little one,” Joel whispers. 

He takes out your hand and begins to suck the slick off of each of your fingers, groaning deeply, making intense eye contact the whole time.

“Fuck, angel,” he moans, having a tough time keeping himself together, you can tell. “Taste and smell better than like how I pictured. Like you were fuckin’ made for me, I swear.”

He reaches a hand of his own down to stroke himself and his moans become more desperate. Finally, he sucks on your middle finger covered in your slick and groans so deeply you feel like you might cum untouched. He stares into your eyes. 

“ Mine, ” he growls possessively. “Oh, shit! Gonna–”

Then he takes your left hand and leads it to meet his throbbing cock. You stroke him, harder this time, fisting his thick length, moaning softly and that does it for him.

Joel cums all over your hand, oozing white globs of cum over your fingers, once, twice, three times. 

“Fuuuuuck, babygirl,” he groans. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry! Couldn’t help it. Yeah, suck it off, baby. That’s it,” he commands, and you do, licking up all of his cum, even the part that got on your middle finger. 

When Joel comes down he still looks half-crazed with desire.

“Sorry about the, uh, early release. It’s been a while since anyone touched me,” he babbles in embarrassment, his cheeks flushed pink. “But I don’t wanna hear shit about your gorgeous hands ever again, you hear me, babygirl?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you nod, snickering. 

He looks like that one word has set his entire universe back in order again. You honestly don’t care at how fast Joel came. You love how much it shows he wants you. And his heady taste is making you weak. You could taste him for days and days and never get tired, you’re sure.

“Can still get you off though, don’t worry. Shoulda let you cum first, but I couldn’t help it with the things you do to me. Goddamn. Can Daddy eat your pussy, baby?”

You grin, but then your face falls. 

“Didn’t shave,” you admit, feeling dirty. 

Max hates your hair down there.

Joel looks at you in confusion.

He laughs, his face scrunching up.

“Oh, sweetheart. You think I care about that? Only little boys give a shit about things like that. Not men.”

You shiver.

“Really?”

“Of course I don’t care. Didn’t ya hear what I just said? C’mon now. You can lie down on the couch.”

You follow instructions, pulling your dress over your head to reveal white lace panties and no bra. 

You move to take the panties off, but Joel stops you, staring at the lines and curves of your body. 

“Jesus, fuck,” he growls, taking you in.

You think you see his cock twitch ever so slightly. He palms his softening length instinctively.

“Beautiful,” he snarls, pushing you back on the sofa. 

You happily fall backward. 

He lies on top of you, his white button-down shirt pressing against your naked body tantalizingly. 

He bites your lips roughly and you groan against him.

“Daddy’s mouth,” he commands against you.

“Yeah, duh, Daddy,” you snicker.

As if he even needs to say it! 

He kisses down your neck expertly and you begin to shiver and whine, your pussy aching with need and neglect.

He stops at your breasts, sucking and biting each one.

“Daddy’s tits,” he declares, snaking a finger over the lace panties that protect your clit. “Of course,” you respond, moaning softly, grinding needily against him.

He continues lower, licking down your breasts and over your tummy which he plants with kisses that tickle and then one hard bite on your hip that leaves behind teeth marks.

“Daddy’s body,” he impresses upon you.

“Yes, Daddy. Only yours.”

“No more of that little shithead, Max,” he snarls, an inch above your clit.

“No more Max,” you repeat as he presses kisses down your pussy, still covered by soaked white lace panties. 

“Only Daddy.”

“Only you.”

“Good girl,” he growls.

He finally removes your panties and begins to eat and suck your clit and pussy so hard and enthusiastically, swirling his tongue around your bundles of nerves that you grow exponentially closer by the second.

“Joel,” you whine. “Oh my God.”

It doesn’t take long. The second his calloused hand is pressing a finger and then two inside of you it’s over. You were so needy for him that you could have even cum from just his mouth alone, but his hands are what send you over the edge. And something different happens as orgasm crashes down upon you. The butterflies all join together and transform into something bigger and softer, caressing your insides, cooing. It feels like a breathing white dove is spreading its wings inside you, the tips of its feathers brushing against your rib cage. And you cum harder than you ever have in your life. 

Pleasure engulfs you in currents, facilitated by the gentle flapping from deep

inside your body.

“ Joel,” you moan. “Oh my God. Daddy, pleaseee–”

“Please what, baby? Make my princess cum again? I would eat that pretty little clit and

pussy every day for the rest of my life if I could, fuck. God, so perfect and you’re so fuckin’ tight. Look how fucking hard you make me, angel.”

He takes one of your hands and places it on his half-hardening cock. Not going to lie, you are partially shocked at his recovery, but another part of you seems to know that if there was anyone in the universe that could do that to him it had to be you. 

“Never got hard again from anyone I’ve ever fucked before…” he trails off dreamily like he can read your thoughts. “You’re so gorgeous, babygirl.”

“Not so bad yourself, handsome,” you tell him lazily, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth as you pull him closer to you. 

The heat from his body keeps you so warm and tender and for a moment you lie on the couch, Joel’s still-clothed body pressed to yours.

“Can you fuck me, Joel?” you ask, squirming against him needily.

“You can’t say that shit to me, baby,” Joel groans, his cock getting harder. “Not quite ready yet.”

“Lemme help you out,” you offer, pouting. 

You reach down and stroke his half-hard length and then bend over and press a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock.

Joel swears, staring down at you with so much adoration it pours off his face. No man has ever looked at you like that before. You’re certain. Perhaps no man ever will again? Not like that.

“Shit, baby,” Joel babbles stupidly, his eyes threatening to swallow you up in that beautiful shade of umber. “Never gonna forget this moment,” he grunts as you begin to suck his cock properly, feeling it slowly get hard enough to throb between your lips with each thrust of your head and gluck of your throat. 

You stare up at him, your eyes wide and wanting and Joel lets out a soft, vulnerable moan as you begin to really suck him and take him down the walls of your throat.

“ Unh , babygirl, fuck,” he whines and you have never quite heard Joel so desperate before. “Gotta pull out or I’m gonna cum. Holy fuck.” 

It sounds just like it did the night you accidentally spied on him jerking off. 

“You’ve been thinking about me a lot, huh, Daddy?” you ask, releasing Joel from your mouth like he wanted, though his hips buck forward ever so slightly with desire, the tip of his cock just barely scraping against your mouth. He grunts.

“Maybe so,” he replies, looking a little guilty. “Don’t know how not to these days.”

“Heard you on the couch last night,” you whine yourself. “Had to touch myself ‘cuz of it, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

Joel reaches out a hand to cup your crotch and rub against your slick pussy.

“That’s so fuckin’ naughty, baby,” he groans. “Look how wet that made you. All for me.”

You steal a glance at his cock and find that the tip is weeping too. And he is so fucking big compared to the size of your hand. Fuck!

“You were thinking about me, weren’t you?” you whisper.

“All about you, baby,” Joel nods in agreement, his hips twitching ever so slightly. “‘Bout touching you just like this.”

He slinks two big fingers inside you and you moan deliciously, the feathery wings of the newly-formed dove fluttering against your insides. 

“Gotta stretch you a bit more,” he grunts into your throat, pushing in a third finger. “Daddy’s so big and you’re so tight, angel. Don’t wanna hurt ya. Not too bad at least. Not yet…That’s it, pretty girl, fuck,” he grins when you slide back on his thumb in pleasure which had traveled to the rim of your asshole “Good girl, so good for Daddy. So naughty too. Don’t think Daddy won’t punish you.”

“Want you to hurt me, Daddy,” you moan. “When you fuck me. Please fuck me hard. I want all of you – pain and pleasure. One hundred percent Joel. Joel, please, I need–” 

And Joel does stop for a moment.

“Never hurt you in a way you didn’t beg for,” he tells you seriously. “You know that right, baby?”

You stop your rutting against him and look into his eyes.

“Are you kidding? You would protect me with your dying breath. I know that, Joel. Never been afraid of you since I’ve really known you. Not once. I mean: fuck; you gave up your whole life for me. To keep me safe, for fuckssake. In every word you say and don’t say to me I can feel how much you love me.”

 “I do love you so much, babygirl,” he whispers, nuzzling your forehead. “If I had to, I’d do all of it all over again if it meant I’d get you. I’ve made mistakes, big ones, but protecting you, loving you was never one of them.” 

Warm tears trail down your cheeks, but Joel licks and kisses them away. 

“Wanna feel me inside you?” he asks. “Don’t wanna go too fast, but I need you, baby. Needed you for so long…Sweet little pussy’s just cryin’ for Daddy, huh? Gonna fit me just like a glove, I just know it — if you wanna…”

“Yes, please, fuck me, Daddy! Please, Joel Wanna feel you—ah!” you moan as Joel shoves his entire length into your pussy in one hard thrust eagerly. “Oh my God, please fuck me harder!” you moan, reeling from the deep blend of pain and pleasure of him sinking inside you, clenching down around the thickness of him. “Joel, please!”

He pauses, sweat glistening on his brow, sneering.

“You really want harder?”

You shiver. The way he says that makes your heart beat wildly in your ears.

“Because babygirl, I would treat you like porcelain if you want it so. I will never hurt you, my angel, my gift from god, my goddamn sweetest heart please know I will break my fucking hands before they would hurt you, before I would ever hurt you in a way that you didn’t want, no matter how much it hurt me. Do you understand me?”

“Of course, Joel. But you want it too,” you smirk. “You aren’t innocent in this, are you?”

“Fuck, of course i’m not innocent. I want you, babygirl. In every way there is to want another. Want every inch of you, inside and out. Wanna mark you up so the world knows you’re mine, honey. Want everyone to smell me on you and know I marked you, moved in you, darlin’, please, see, I’m no fucking Hemingway, I didn’t go to college, I’m not like you with words, but I need you to understand that I mean this with my whole chest and heart. Really, I’m not a big talker, never was, babygirl, but I need you to understand I—”

  “I do, you dumbass fucking fool!” you shout, giggling at his desperation. “I’d understand you even if you were speaking another language. You’ve made your intentions loud and clear. I don’t want a Hemingway, I want Joel Miller!”

You pull him in for a kiss and he thrusts in you again a second time and you end up moaning clumsily in his mouth, but you can feel him smiling , smiling like some dumb idiot against you and maybe you called him the correct insult because he is a dumbass fucking fool for you. And it turns out you must be one as well because you are smiling like an idiot for him too.

“ Joel,” you moan as he begins to move inside you, hitting deep places that Max or any of your previous exes never went. Pleasure is tracing itself along the line of your stomach. “Oh my god, I love you so much,” you babble and you’ve never meant that more than you do now.

You can feel Joel coming apart above you, plowing into you, sighing deeply. His grunts and moans and thrusts spur on the intense pleasure. 

“More!” you moan. “Oh my god. Harder, please, I need–”

Joel plants rough bites on your neck and kisses too like he’s trying to consume every inch of you. 

He places a large hand around your throat questioningly and you nod.

“Beg for it,” he commands in his deep, sexy voice — the voice that’s been in every wet dream you’ve ever had. You think you might just pass out from the sound alone. 

“Choke me, Daddy,” you whine as pathetically as you possibly can, batting your eyes. “Oh, please, I could cum from just this, but I want more. More of you. All of you.”

“As you fuckin’ wish, baby,” he snickers in amusement. “Bet no little boy ever fucked you like this, huh?” he growls, continuing his rough pace, slamming against your walls, his eyes growing wild.

“They don’t compare to you, Joel. It’s always been you. In every orgasm. Fuck, never felt like this! Shit! Shit!”

Joel reaches out his large scarred hand and applies gentle delicious pressure to your throat. You know even something like this can be dangerous, but you crave that feral look of violence in his eyes and the power that comes with it. You want him to own you completely – every inch of you. You want him to mark you just like he said he wanted to because he is yours and you are his and has it ever really been any other way? You can’t remember properly from the pleasure rushing through you, the white dove inside you spreading and fluttering its wings, cooing softly. You think it’s only ever been what you feel now.

“Joel, Joel, fuck!” you scream, orgasm building in you.

“I know, babygirl. I know,” he coos himself into your mouth.

He pulls you closer, presses his nose to yours, his lips to yours, biting and kissing like a starving man possessed. He looks into your eyes and it’s there! That look of pure predator closing in on its prey, that look of ownership but also the most intense love you think you’ve ever witnessed. You would recognize that look anywhere. Your starved brain cries out for oxygen beneath his iron grip. 

“Gonna cum again, angel,” Joel growls. “Gonna make you cum so hard you’re never gonna forget who you belong to. Whose pretty pussy this is.”

He is pounding so hard against your cervix and his dick is so big inside you and the pressure of his hand squeezing around you is so overwhelming and the scent of him could make you faint straight then and there, but you let go and feel yourself cumming in enormous waves as you squeeze down around Joel’s prick, the pleasure more intense than any single bodily experience you’ve had.

“ Daddy ,” you whine breathlessly, tears trickling out of your eyes. “Oh my god!”

“You’re mine, babygirl, always have been–FUCK!” he shouts into your throat, collapsing on top of you.

And then you feel him starting to empty himself inside you, painting your sensitive insides with trustful after trustful of hot cum. You’ve never felt so helplessly full and sticky in your life, the brilliant pleasure billowing through every inch of you. You want to feel like this every day, stuffed full of Joel’s cock, so close to him you can feel his heartbeat against yours, the one true place you belong. 

“So beautiful, babygirl,” he whispers in an exhausted type of awe.

When your words come back you reply,

“Shut up, you’re the hot one,” through a snicker. 

You look down at your body, covered in purple bite marks and bruises forming like galaxies across your body. 

Joel snorts. Then he sits up on the couch and you lean your cheek against him. You lean up to kiss his cheek and he blushes ever so slightly.

“I said a lot of stuff, Y/N, but I want you to know that I meant all of it,”

“Yeah, you probably said more in the last hour than you’ve ever uttered in your entire life,” you tease, sitting up.

“I’m serious,” he snickers.

“I am and was too,” you nod. “I’m so glad that you’re here with me — that we did this. I know that our…origin story is weird and unconventional and some might argue straight up wrong, but I need you, Joel. I don’t care about that or think I could go back to pretending to be what we were.”

“You think I’d want you to act like that?” he asks incredulously. “You think I want this to just be a one-time thing?”

“Of course not,” you smirk. “But as close as we are I can’t actually read your mind. I mean…how are we going to be together realistically?”

“I’m not sure,” Joel admits, frowning a little. “For now it has to be a secret unless you want your mother or brother in jail for murdering me this time around. But someday, I dunno. It’s dumb…”

“What?”

“I just have these thoughts sometimes about you ‘n me. I…” Joel’s cheeks turn a bit pink. “Had a lot of time to think in prison, you know? And I’d Imagine us living on a ranch somewhere quiet out in the country with a flock of sheep. I could work at the tractor and auto-body repair shop that’d be out there, you know, in this dream of mine, and you could be a counselor at a local school if that’s what ya wanted. I don’t know, l know it sounds silly, but nobody would know or bother us there. But I want you to finish school and have the best life possible, babygirl. I’d wait a thousand years for you, but if you didn’t want me anymore the way we are now, I’d respect that. And if you’d allow it, I’d still be there for you just in a platonic sense — or just there for you however you want because I can’t imagine my life with you in it. I’d do whatever it takes, brokenhearted or not. I just can’t be separated from you like that again. A day longer in prison and I could’ve keeled over and died. And it’s crazy how much I mean that.”

“I don’t ever want to be separated from you again, Joel,” you agree. “I know the original plan was for you to find work and get an apartment of your own and I would love for that to still happen, but with you being intimate with me in every way – even if it has to be a secret. I don’t pretend to know what the future holds, but I need you in mine. I’ve never needed something more than I need that. Understand?”

Joel pulls you into a hug and leans his chin on the top of your head. He kisses it then your forehead. You lean up and plant a kiss on his throat and then his Adam’s apple.

“Don’t mean to get too ahead of ourselves now. We can take things a day at a time,” he mumbles into your skin.

You yawn contentedly, the tiredness clawing at your eyes, so unbelievably spent.  

“I like hearing about your dreams and I’d go anywhere with you, Joel. But I am kinda dead from how good you just fucked me. Take me to bed?” You ask exhaustedly into his chest.

“Of course, babygirl,” he smirks down at you.

***

You don’t let go of Joel all night long, burrowed up against his chest, his heartbeat against your ear. And he doesn’t let go of you either. After the most intimate night of cuddles and snuggling you’ve ever experienced as well as the deepest and most restful sleep you’ve had in ages, you wake up to Joel gone from the bed. You frown, having wanted more than anything to wake up in his strong arms. Fear grips your insides as you wonder if he finally realized last night was a mistake and that you were never meant to be together in the first place (what you fear more than anything). A stupid vulnerable tear comes to your eye, but then you cock your head and hear music playing. Guitar music. 

You think of your apartment as shitty, but truthfully you care deeply about your little private space and one of the things you do actually love the most about it is the tiny balcony that overlooks a measly courtyard and part of the city. That’s where you find Joel in the deck chair holding his guitar, strumming it lazily.

“Mornin’, beautiful,” he says, fingerpicking a melody that scratches at the back of your mind with familiarity. 

“Morning, handsome,” you tell him softly, plopping your smaller hand down on his shoulder. 

The city hasn’t woken up yet, the soft glow of morning shining beams of light onto you and Joel, filling you with warmth. You sit down in the deck chair next to him, bathing in the sunlight.

“Whatcha playing?” you ask curiously, crouching to sit up on your knees.

“You know the song ‘Hallelujah’ by Leonard Cohen?” Joel asks in that beautifully deep voice of his. 

He isn’t even singing yet but you could listen to him forever. 

“‘Course,” you nod. “It’s a classic. You used to play it for me once in a blue moon.”

“Know what the word ‘Hallelujah’ actually means?” he asks. 

You think about it for a second.

“It’s about praising god and all that, right? Why d’you ask?”

He pauses, both his words and fingerpicking. 

“Babygirl,” he begins and you can tell he’s about to say something serious. “You know I’m not too good with words, but I need you to know this: I’ve never had much to thank god for in my life, except for Sarah, you know? But then He took her away…”

You place your hand on Joel’s and he looks at you sadly, but appreciatively. He flips it over and holds it in his giant paw of his own marked-up hand. 

“And I was so fucking angry. Nothing left in me. The only good part of me gone. I was a broken man. And I hated Him. But then He, despite the shit I’ve done…He gave me you . And I know our road hasn’t been easy or fair, and the pain you’ve felt and I have felt but…I guess what I’m trying to say is you are the reason I believe that any type of…goodness— of holiness— can exist in this universe. And I’m not a religious man, I don’t believe in most of that dogmatic type of shit, and I don’t think you do either, but I do think someone or something is up there and I wanna thank them for you. Does that make sense? Do you wanna hear what I mean? I just feel so damn grateful.”

A tear you hadn’t noticed was there rolls down your cheek. 

“Of course it does and of course I do,” you tell him.

You think perhaps this is the closest thing he can do to bearing his soul to you. 

And then he leans over and kisses the tear away and begins to fingerpick the familiar melody.

♪ “I heard there was a secret chord…”♫

You listen to his deep weathered voice as the sun grows higher in the morning sky, casting both light and shadow over Joel’s wrinkled, handsome face. The light trails over you too. You feel the dove inside you cooing contentedly, dusting its wings gently against the edges of your insides. 

♪There's a blaze of light in every word / It doesn't matter which you heard / The holy or the broken Hallelujah…”♫

When he finishes he places his large, scarred, calloused hand in yours and you hold it between your own scarred fingers.

“Thank you, Joel,” you tell him, meaning every word. “I think there’s hope for us, you know? I don’t believe in hippie-dippie type stuff, but something in this universe did bring us together. And I’ll be forever grateful for that too, ya know?”

Joel squeezes your smaller hand, his big fingers engulfing yours as the dove coos louder inside you.

“Babygirl, you know that I ain’t a good man, or a rich and educated one like maybe you thought you’d end up with, but I am less of a broken one because of you and I’m never letting you go. If we’re together, I think we have a chance.”

A/n:PLEASE COMMENT LIKE REBLOG IM BEGGING IM PLEADING IM CRYING DID THE SMUT LIVE UP TO YOUR DREAMS????

PART 1

PART 3 (coming soon)

Violent Heart Masterlist

Full Masterlist of all my work

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@denileisariver @lochnymph  @mewantpeepaw. @fandomdaydreamer  @r3dheadedwitch

@paanchusblog   @prettystrangething @untamedheart81 @kotourasan123 @valkyreally

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[pedrospatch]

wip wednesday

thank you for the tags angels 🤍 @mrsmando @honeyedmiller @mermaidgirl30 @gasolinerainbowpuddles @thelightsandtheroses

here are snippets of some of the many wips i am actively working on. or trying to anyway.

the gold room - dbf!joel x stripper!reader

“Jesus Christ.” Joel stares at you, using every last ounce of strength he has in his entire body not to let his gaze wander past your chin. He’s trying not to look at the way your skintight, neon pink dress hugs every soft, heavenly curve of your body, how the matching rhinestone garter shimmers around your deliciously plush thigh. “Is it even legal for you to be fuckin’ workin’ here?” Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms and shift your weight from one seven inch heel to the other.  “You can dance at eighteen,” you inform him. “And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m twenty one, Mr. Miller. So with all due respect, chill the fuck out, okay?” “You went to college—“ “College is fucking expensive,” you interject with a shrug. “The job market is shit and I don’t plan on drowning in my student debt for the next ten years. Look, I don’t have to explain myself to you. Don’t stand there and judge me. Don’t act like what I do is so terrible when you have been paying good fucking money for girls like me to dance for you and sit in your lap all night long.” “That’s fuckin’ different. None of those girls are my best friend’s daughter.”

flutter - post outbreak! joel x pregnant!reader

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the stove, you crack a couple eggs into another, knowing the kid was on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast. “Morning!” Ellie pipes, the plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you. “Ellie,” you warn, walking over to the table. “Don’t—” “You’re bigger!” With a playful glare, you set her plate down along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks, you little jerk,” you say, feigning offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.” “Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she starts to sputter. “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach—you didn’t look like this yesterday. You look great, just different.” She’s lucky your raging hormones decided to take the morning off.

chapter 10 for a safe haven

*this is just a short short snippet because it’s being heavily edited rn so i can post it soon!

He peels off his clothes, being careful not to further agitate his sore, inured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you sitting in bed under the covers.

“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”

Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home.”

np tags! 🤍 @sugarcoated-lame @ozarkthedog @amanitacowboy @sp00kymulderr @ilovepedro @ezrasbirdie and anyone else who’d like to share their wips!

[stars-o]

〖𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙷𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸〗

《Yandere Cove Holden x Female Reader》

Alright here’s part two! Here are a few things I must say before you can read. Steps 3 and 4 WILL have some smut scenes and in case anyone forgot, you’re both 18 in Step 3 and 23 in Step 4 in the game. 

And one more thing, I am not good at explaining sex scenes so please have mercy if those bits suck ass then part 1 lol. Tips and advice would be greatly appreciated though!

Tags: masturbation involved so PLZ MDNI 18+

︻︻︻︻︻︻

Step 3:

♡ Ahh, the end of high school is here, you’re both 18, and sooner or later if Cove doesn’t make ANY moves on you, he’ll surely lose his grasp on you. While it angers him to be away from you during the summer, he enjoys reading the letters you’ve written for him or any care packages you had sent. He’s missed you so much. Cove’s become...desperate for anything. 

♡ Locked in his old childhood room that he’s stayed at during his daily summer visits to his mom’s place, he pulls out one of your recently worn pair of panties. Well, before his trip to his mom’s, he might or might not have stolen one of your panties. But don’t worry! He’ll return it... after he washes it. Cove knows this is wrong. To shamelessly pleasure himself using one a pair of your panties. But he can’t help himself. Cove misses your smell. Your natural smell brings him both pleasure and comfort. Reminding him of moments you both had. cough there’s too many to count cough

The sound of whimpering and soft groans echoed the empty apartment, pleas and repeated ‘fuckfuckfuck’s came from one room. There in the room clothes were thrown wherever as Cove sat on his bed; legs wide open, heels digging into the mattress as he hungrily pumps his throbbing cock into his fist. His other hand had your lacy panties that he had stolen from you before leaving, nose buried into the soft fabric, inhaling your scent.

“M-miss you! want you so b-ah!” Cove whines, surprised at his own actions, hips jerking upward as his cum-covered fingers slide up to his chest to pinch and pull at his pink nipples. With the stimulation it was enough for Cove to let out a high pitch moan as he came all over his stomach for the nth time. 

Panting, Cove removes the underwear from his face to inspect the mess, or messes, he left. “Holy shit...” He moaned, gathering cum around his fingers. A sudden ping catches his attention. He sees the notification pop up with his special nickname for you

     Mine ♥ : 𝗁𝖾𝗒!! 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗇??

Cove bites his lip at the thought of hearing your sweet voice after a few sessions. One coming up as beads of precum leak from his red, throbbing tip. His eyes glancing at the time on his phone. 8 PM. His mom doesn’t come home for another few hours, he has plenty of time for another round or a few. And the best part, you’ll be helping him! Though you won’t know. 

With that set, he shakily presses his thumb onto the phone icon. Cove wraps your underwear around his, now hard, cock, and waits for to you to answer his call. 

♡ Cove has been running on countless ideas on what he needs to do to make you official and that’s when the gods and goddesses have answered him. He’ll ask you to accompany him to the ORCA fundraising diner. Of course you said yes because why wouldn’t you? He has so many plans on confessing to you tonight and tonight can’t go wrong. 

♡ It’s finally the fundraising diner, he’s outside looking into your window, waiting impatiently so he could be near you again, touch you. The diner starts in 30 minutes and he’s been waiting for you for 13. Cove paced around his car to hold himself back from crawling through your window and pulling you into a passionate kiss and proclaim his love for you. But for now, he’ll wait to confess. Deep down, Cove knows he doesn’t have the nerves to actually do that.

♡ After waiting forever, you finally make your way outside to Cove’s car, your dress hugging your curves perfectly. Cove’s eyes stayed glued onto you as you rushed over to him, hair flowing behind you, your perfume assaulting his senses. He could feel his face heat up when he noticed a shiny piece of jewelry hugging your ankle. An anklet. Oh fuck. What would he give to bend you over his car hood and fuck you senselessly. 

♡ Maybe coming to the fundraiser with you was a bad idea, all the looks you’ve been receiving from these... disgusting animals almost makes him want to leave. But it’ll all be worth it in the end. You both had your food and desserts and are currently on the dance floor. Busting it down  Arms wrapped around each other, chest pressed snuggly, it’s like a puzzle piece. Cove has known for a long time that you’re made for each other.

♡ Finally! Finally FINALLY! It was time! the event ended with you enjoying yourself and having a good time with Cove but now it was time for the main event. He’s shitting bricks but he needs to do this. He needs to claim you as his, it’ll only be temporarily. Maybe in the next few years, Cove could give you his last name...

𓆩⟡𓆪

Step 4:

♡ He’s done it. 5 years ago, he confessed his feelings to you after the fundraiser and you accepted his confession. Now, at 23, you both been living together after Cove asked you to move in with him at 20. Even though he wanted to you to move in with him as soon as possible after telling both your families that he’s been looking into moving out. He almost cried in frustration when you declined, stating that you both should wait awhile before jumping the gun. 

♡ Living with Cove has been amazing. Ever since he’s gotten more comfortable sleeping in the same bed as you, he’s been nothing but a cuddle bug. Make the slightest movement to adjust your sleeping position or use the bathroom, he always wake up and waits for you to come back so he could wrap his arms around your waist and sleep soundly. He can’t afford to be separated from you after chasing you for so long. 

♡ After living together for 3 years, you’ve had sex a few times. But those few times always leave you fucked out and twitching uncontrollably and they always last up to 2 rounds, 3 if Cove’s feeling extra possessive. Speaking about how often you both are busting it down, if Cove could, he would’ve made your love making life into something more wild and kinkier. You sitting on his face as he overstimulates your throbbing clit as you suffocate him with your plush thighs, Cove shoving his tongue into your pussy while you sleep soundly above him, grinding his hard cock against your thighs as he pins you against the cold sand as he begs you to allow him to fuck you in the empty beach, etc. This guy’s a beast! But luckily for you, or not if you’re into those things, Cove’s shyness stops him from expressing those thoughts to you. 

“P-please!” Cove sobbed, grinding his weeping cock against your thighs, spreading precum all over you and your swimsuit. Head buried in your neck as you wrapped your arms around Cove’s shoulders, moaning as his tip repeatedly bumped into your clit. 

“ I wan’ fuck you, wan’ fuck you so badly, please..!”  He kisses your neck, hands wondering all over you. 

Cove

More whimpering came from Cove as he started grinding faster, the knot in his stomach threatening to break the faster he went. 

“Fuck! ‘m gonna..! gonna cum!” 

Cove!

Cove arches his back as he came in his boxers, the crotch of his sweatpants darkening. Whimpering escaped Cove’s lips as he gave a few more thrusts to the air before opening his eyes.

“W-what?” he gasps, now realizing what happened. He was in a wet dream and you woke him up.

“Man that must’ve been an intense dream,” You murmured in concern, rubbing his shoulders. ‘Good,’ Cove thought, a sigh of relief escapes his lips. He didn’t want you to figure that it was a wet dream instead. 

“Y-yeah...” Sitting up, Cove covers his crotch with the blanket he was sleeping with. It smelled like you. “It was...really intense.”

♡ Now onto the fun part, the promise he made to himself before confessing to you. To propose to you. To become your husband. And what better way to propose to you then back at your childhood home on your favorite hill. Cove bought the ring months ago and made sure to bring it with him as he left to go back to Sunset Bird for your Moms’ dinner anniversary. The ring weighed down on his mind as he nervously awaits your arrival.

♡ When you arrive, you’ve noticed at Cove’s nervous attitude, always stuttering around you, greenish blue eyes fluttering away from your confused ones. Normally, he loved talking to you, making eye contact with you, but now, he’s back to his 13 year old self, way before you started dating. Cove tries his hardest to not make it obvious but it doesn’t help when his parents and your question if he was alright. With Cove’s confusing personality switch, he always makes it up to you by cuddling you tightly when you sleep. 

♡ Time skip to everyone at his father’s house, when his mom mentions a showcase of Cove’s baby photos, you light up with glee at the thought of baby cove. Cove notices this and your comment about him in his onesie, makes him think about having children with you. His cheeks flare up as he imagined a mini you just running around the house as he cradled a mini him in his arms as you peck his cheek. Now he’s even more determined to make that dream come true. 

The sound of crickets echoed through the air, the fireflies and the moon lighting up the small town of Sunset Bird on a warm summer night. Cove had brought you to your favorite hill covered in poppies, where you both first met 15 years ago. During this whole trip back, you’ve been worried about Cove’s sudden nervous behavior but waited until he opened up to you about what was on his mind. 

“(Y/N)…” Cove began, voice wobbly. You let out a hum in acknowledgment as you await him to continue. 

There was a slight pause. You tilt your head as Cove softly cupped your hands into his. Cove falls to his knees, grunting at the impact before fixing himself into the correct position. One knee up, the other kneeling. He hasn’t looked at you yet in fear he might get overwhelmed and chicken out. But his determination of having a family with you, gets him ignore his fears. So with a deep breath, Cove whips his head up to stare into your eyes with his determined ones. 

“You-you... have always been there for me... through thick and thin. Defending me from b-bullies left and right.” He began, voice cracking here and there as his eyes become misty. 

Noticing where this was going, your eyes also become misty, a smile painted on your face.  "A-and I wouldn’t have it any other way. You are the missing piece of me I thought I had lost a long time ago.” 

More silence as Cove’s collects himself for the golden question.

“(Y/N) (L/N), will you marry me?”

                                          ︼︼︼︼︼︼

A/N: I am FINALLY done!! Once again SO SORRY for disappearing for like 2 months. 

[morskisir]

Answer to this ask I had to post seperately because I reached the character limit or something.

OHHHH Anon you are not ready. I think about this bastard so much and too deeply.

Before I get into it:

I love how you worded this question- gives a nice atmosphere.

Just to be clear this is all about RED Sniper. I apologise to any BLU Sniper enjoyers for I don't have thoughts about that guy.

I'm not the biggest fan of the comics for many reasons so don't mind me retconning a lot of that.

In the end these are all MY opinions and views of him- if you don't like them that's no problem. It's free real estate.

And FINALLY; my thoughts, under read more:

OKAY, let's start with what even got me to interpret him the way that I do; hell yeah baby, it's Meet the Sniper time.

I've seen MANY people often assume that Sniper is one of the most normal/chill people of the 2fort nine- but the impression I got is that he wants you to think he's normal so desperately despite everything else pointing to how fucking weird he actually is. Simply noticing the stuff he's saying makes it a lot more clear. The very beginning where he goes "Boom, headshot," making light of taking another person's life so swiftly. "Cause at the end of the day; as long as there's two people left on the planet- someone is gonna want someone dead," really positive light you see the world in, Sniper.

Of course you can take this as him being "realistic", and I do agree he's more of a realist than a pessimist or optimist, but "...have a plan to kill everyone you meet," is SO fucked up. Why is his first thought when meeting someone to know how to kill them? This to me is him not being able to properly connect to other people/understand them or actually SEE them as people. Not to mention his smile after delivering that shot in the timelapse of him sniping (AND after stabbing Spy). This cunt enjoys killing. He's not the type to slowly kill someone or torture them- but he is the type to feel satisfaction after planting a bullet in someone; give himself a pat on the back for it- or perhaps find humour in the kill.

The conclusion this brought me to is that he is an unreliable narrator in "Meet the Sniper". (Also the "..be polite," line. Yeah, sure, dude. Your voice lines are very polite.)

CAN WE TALK ABOUT HIS FUCKING TEETH? The way his teeth look and how much they're shown to the viewer by exaggerating his mouth movements feels like a "this guy is NOT normal" sign. No one in the game has teeth similar to him and his canines are HUGE. Like holy shit, he's an apex predator.

A comment @cheebuss (I know you wanna get tagged) saw once has been a running joke between us- it was basically "He indicates so he's normal," which is fucking hilarious, but I can genuinely refute that point. First of all we see him fucking speeding in the beginning of the video- to be fair we don't know what the speed limit on this road is, BUT:

Cunt drives around with a broken side mirror. That's really unsafe, obviously. A good chunk of that mirror has gone to shit and he does not care to replace it (which feeds into my headcanon of him being stingy/not wanting to spend money because he lived on a farm and they did everything themselves). Speaking of his van; it gave me the impression he likes having everything he needs near him- he doesn't need a grand, expensive space to feel comfortable. (I headcanon that he's actually scared/unnerved by vast, empty spaces/buildings) ALSO I think he's messy and prefers the claustrophobia of his van. I like to believe his childhood room was much the same (to the detriment of his mother)- that's his safe space damn it!!!

And here I can transition into talking about his parents!!! : D Of course, not much was shown to us of Mr. & Mrs. Mundy, but we can still glean some stuff from the video- and partially- the comics.

His father very obviously disapproves of his job, calling him "a crazed gunman", and showing his morals do not align with Sniper's. Sniper calls for his mum during the phone call shown at the very end of the video- looking annoyed and somewhat distressed. It's clear to me that they've had this argument many times and Mrs. Mundy is the mediator in them. I think she disapproves of the job as much as her husband does, but is sick of hearing them argue to that extent. Regardless of this conflict, Sniper loves and cares for his parents- they are his world. He doesn't care for anyone else, most of the shit he does is for their sake and continuing to provide support so they can live a stable life at their farm as they get older. It's one of the nicest things about Sniper.

Although, I do think he struggled to get them to understand him properly. He is a quiet man who doesn't express a lot of his emotions. That will complicate things, especially if he doesn't talk about it- and he doesn't!!! : D

Despite this, I think they were the people he was closest to. Sniper, to me, is a guy who's never had friends and has been lonely as well as isolated his entire life. "Too weird to live, much too rare to die." And this is a VERY long time we're talking about; DECADES. Decades of minimum to no human connection. (Just to note; he is almost 50 to me. The comic writers fucked the timeline up and made him a 20 something year old. The Sin. Do not speak of it to me. It makes him less interesting/compelling I'm not kidding.) He is anxious in social settings, barely speaks up, and prefers to simply back away when he doesn't know how to deal with something. (SUPER DUPER AUTISM + SOCIAL ANXIETY!!!) Does he try to interact with his co-workers? Veeeeery little. He yearns for connection he convinces himself he doesn't need. He trusts no one. He's a mystery to them.

But hey!!! Less distractions from his job!!! (Bad transition) This man is genuinely incredible at what he does- I keep replaying the part where he reloads his rifle. He was not kidding about being efficient (he also kills the entire BLU team in that video??). The lad's got incredible patience, aim, control, and overall understanding of what he's doing. There's something fucked up about him observing the people he's targetting like prey, but let's leave that for when I mention his previous job as a tracker (if I do). I imagine the only thing he excelled at in school (he did go there!! He can write!!!) is maths, as that is very much needed when you're a sniper.

BTW I think he barely passed school; he hated being there, had no interest in school work and his teachers kept pestering him about his social life. Leave him alone, he doesn't need that (he does).

Most of his focus went to his parents' farm where I think he mostly took care of the animals....or went out to hunt them; which is how he learned to shoot out of a rifle in the first place. (His dad taught him.) He's not exactly an animal guy but he's also not not an animal guy.

It's complicated.

ANYWAYS, I've talked enough about one single video. Let's mention his in game voice lines a bit!

There's a LOT of material there but here's the stuff I want to mention:

He talks to himself a lot. He isn't out there with the others- his job is to be perched up somewhere high and shoot from a distance so he doesn't get spotted. He makes so many jokes that only HE's going to find funny, except "You've got a forehead on ya like a coffee table," which is genuinely the funniest thing he's ever said. Boy voices his thoughts and tries to entertain himself when he's alone- I don't judge him for that. He has to sit there for hours in complete focus (he helps himself via a lot of coffee). I DO judge the things he says, however.

He's violent. (WHAT!?) There's plenty of examples but I would like to mention one adressed to his teammates. One of the "Jeers" commands is "Should've saved a bullet for some of you blokes!" which, hey, what the fuck? That's scary. He got so frustrated he threatened his own team with murder. (It's kinda funny) To me this shows he's bad at controlling his outbursts or that he never learned how to deal with them. (Autism moment!!!)

He literally growls.

There's this line addressed to Spy: "What goes around comes around, you snotty little nance." If you're not aware- "nance" is derogatory Australian slang for a prissy, effeminate gay man. I headcanon Sniper as a homosexual man so it tickles me that he's so insecure about this fact. It's sad, absolutely, but I find humour in this horrible man being a homophobic homosexual. Project your insecurities onto a guy who can read people extremely well, why don't you. He won't do anything about it, I promise :) (Lie)

I was doing my best to not mention SniperSpy but CAN WE TALK ABOUT HIS LINES AIMED AT SPY AND HOW THEY'RE DIRECT RESPONSES TO THINGS SPY SAYS? (plus the highest number of revenge lines he has directed at someone is Spy)

-> = response to:

"Aww, did I get blood on your suit!?" -> "You got blood on my suit."

"I was never on your side either! Wanker!" -> "I never really was on your side."

"Ah, my God, you've been shot. Did you get a look at the handsome rogue who did it?" -> "I'll see you in hell, you handsome rogue."

BY THE WAY, THAT LAST LINE? SPY ONLY SAYS THAT TO HIS COUNTERPART. WHAT, WERE YOU LOOKING AT HIM? WERE YOU WATCHING HIM ALL DAY? WHY DO YOU REMEMBER SO MANY THINGS HE'S SAID? WHY ARE YOU SO FOCUSED ON HIM? ARE YOU OBSESSED WITH HIM? ARE YOU OBSESSED? WHY ARE YOU OBSESSED WITH A LITTLE NANCY BOY? HM?

There is so much more I could mention. I think whatever thing he has going on with Spy is super important to him, but I will hold back for your sake as I can talk about this for hours. You have no clue how many parallels there are, etc.

Anyways, he's in Expiration Date! A little bit! He doesn't say anything. <3 I'm proud of him!!! <3

He literally just stands around ominously in the shadows (and finds RED Spy being made fun of very amusing).

"Hehe."

(I just noticed he took his watch off and put it on his vest. This is an autism moment because I, too, hate having something on me that I don't usually have so I need to balance it out by removing something else; if I have it on me. Either way it's sensory suffering.) (Him being super attached to his hat and glasses is also an autism moment. He is no one without them.)

And then he has that one part in The Bread Fight(tm) where he gets confused by Pauling and Scout pushing the bomb.

"Tails gets trolled" looking ass.

I like watching him fall over.

After he falls here, he takes his kukri out which was... attached? situated? It was behind the strap of his arrow carrier. I think that's cool. I also think he wouldn't be doing that during matches because Spy is very much capable of stealing it/putting it away without Sniper noticing, even if it was literally on his back.

Also, I am a firm believer in "Sniper can only do one thing extremely well and has little to no interest in creative stuff," so I disagree with the idea of him being able to play a saxophone. You could say he was made to do that in school, but this guy is a smoker. I do not believe he can do that. You cannot convince me.

I think that's enough! This doesn't even go past the hypothetical tip of the iceberg, but it's a lot of words. This is the very basic stuff you have to know about how I see this cunt.

Thank you for letting me share some of my insanity.

[dylansslutt]

judas kiss / t.s

part three of dishonest (mini series)

 authors note// hi thank you so much for your feedbacks, if i have anything unfinished yall really want another part too please lmk bc i literally have lots of ask/request or even things ive started up & forgot ab or have in my drafts. butt i am going through and finishing out some stuff, i just took a vacation and rlly needed some me time... BUT IM BACK BITCHES!!!

   also... holy shit a thousand something followers!!!! thank you guys seeing the endless love and support of my writings has boosted me into starting my own book series ... but thats for another spill. thank you again for following me on my journey of my shitty writings to my development.

i got this tip thing working, i do work full time & go to school so any tips are welcomed and appreciated but either way ty all.

anywhore here is the third part/ im thinking final part as well. let your imagination think of the end... unless too many of yall want more.

 tag list: @allie131313​ @casa-boiardi​

summary: lying about your identity, leads you face to face with the one and only thomas shelby. as chaos unravels much more surfaces as well.

  staring in the mirror, feeling the old, yet the familiar feeling of a silk night gown cascading down your body. remembering the time lasted only for a mere few years. years you weren’t happy. the bruises were faded mainly, except the slight pain in your ribs still.

 taking small pain killers help.

 the day has left you tired leaving the rest of the clothing in the corner of the room. laughing almost as you take in the fact; he really did get you some new clothes. as well as being kind of enough to grab some of your own from your apartment.

 which you were notified was absolutely trashed, yet hidden away you found a picture. one of you, your mum and sister. so young... so innocent. the memories of everything was building up.

 the gown fit you nicely though, the cloth was soft and comfortable. something you almost forgot what felt like, since being alone on the run . glancing over at the clock noticing it was getting late. 

biting your lip softly, things mule over in your head. how thomas was and if maybe, just maybe you two met under a different circumstance. hell even just a re-do of your meetings.

 ignoring it as your hair gets tucked behind your ear. deciding to leave this room and not be cooped up.

 as you step out, your eyes flicker down the hall. movements halting as your mind comes more clear. he was right there in that room.

 the room you’ve seen him enter a mere few times. the light flickers through the crack of the door. it was there. right in front of you. 

 hand never leaving the door knob, biting your lip in deep thought. happy he got you your clothes from home, as well as a few new items. must’ve gotten help from a lady because there’s no way he chose these alonesome. 

 shaking these thoughts your feet spring into action. hand beside you now as your focus was on where he was. fist raising to knock on the ajar door. it swings open wider, creaking slightly as thomas sets some papers down. 

 smoke still in hand as his eyes lift to yours, exhaling the smoke from his lips. he lifts it back up, inhaling again taking in the sight of you. in more different clothing than anything he has seen before. work uniform, one little outfit, and his clothing. you looked good, stunning in a way.

 he was as he usually was, expect a bit more exposed.

 the anger still present when your wounds become more visible, thankfully more faint now. he’s already sent john to deal with that particular matter, but now he had to deal with some stuff tonight.

 “got to look at the stuff, thank you.” giving him a small smiling, trying to make this attempt for a better start forward. needing time to plan future things as your mind hasn’t had a hint of peace.

 he nods licking his lips, ashing in the tray.

 “can’t have you walking around naked, can we?”

  the joke brought a smile small to your lips, as your head thinks about the picture. unaware if he knew it was there or if someone else did the work. his focus is back on the papers making you step in. taking in this private study he enchants himself too; felt like him.

 biting your lip softly, the sight of him before you has your mind in another place. he looks like something you saw only moments before. a mirror image of yourself. less battered and bruised on the outside though, yet he was tired. his eyes red, the bottle out in the open. he was more open, more vulnerable.

 “y/n?”

 you shake your head, a blush crosses your cheeks. “sorry. what ya’ say?” 

he holds back his emotion, but his attention is now yours. “i’ve gotta meeting tonight, tomorrow some more to do. until then just stay here, out of harms way for the love of god.”

 he stands up and stares at you. your lip ends up between your teeth, feeling a bit nervous. he didn’t sound so serious so fierce, he sounds exhausted. as you were to even fight back, which he noticed.

 “if you are up by the time i get home, we should talk.” your eyes narrow at his words, nodding slightly. hands coming up to brush your hair back once more.

 “just knock on my door when you get back, thomas.” 

 with that you open the cracked door wider, rushing out of the room. everything felt too tense too unsettling in there. only when his footsteps become noticeable, you realize he was following you.

 heart racing as you reach halfway down the hall, nearing the stairs. for a moment, your eyes flicker to the front door. 

 the thought crosses your mind. ignoring it as you continue to ‘your’ room desperate that he isn’t actually following. that he would walk himself down those stairs instead.

 as you reach the door his presence was there, the defeat leaves you. turning around to face him. his face was inches from yours. something deep in his eyes as he pushes the door open.

 “thomas?”

 the door closes behind you as he is now only standing in front of you, a heave in his chest almost. “their dead, alright? the men from that night, their gone.”

 your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “wh-why are ya’ tellin’ me this?” he comes forward cupping your cheek. the look in his eye is something you’ve seen before. loss.

 staying still in his embrace, “i-i don’t want ya’ scared of me... for some fuckin’ reason.”

 the confession made your mouth shut completely. “i don’t want ya’ scared at all.”  it didn’t feel exactly true but it what was easiest for him to say. 

that was until he pulls you onto his lips. hands landing on his chest, mouth moving with his out of instinct. pulling away as you push him back slightly. staring into the eyes of a loss man, knowing this could end terribly. 

your chest rises and falls quickly, “i- told ya-”

 “tell me to stop then, y/n.” the deep stare between you two leaves something rattling inside of you. 

 “i-i get your past. i know mines fucked, but i-...” you trail off biting the inside of your cheek for a moment. the internal debate ends with him pushing forward.

 lips on his he pulls you close, your hands around his neck as you both fall back on the bed straddling him. his hands push against your back, deepening the kiss. the hold on you wasn’t harsh, just tight possessive like. as if you were to disappear at any moment.

 pulling away for air, his lips trail from your cheek to your neck. the giggle escapes your lips involuntarily, and for a moment thomas sighs. not of boredom and displeasure but of relief.

 it made your heart swirl because you felt it too. the non-serious feeling of this. even though it wouldn’t last, it felt real for the moment.

 his hand slips down from your waist onto your thighs. eyes flickering back up at you. your hands tug at his shirt, him taking the hint to remove it. the bare chest was there and now you could really look at it.

“thomas.”

 his hand grips the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss. he flips you over and he holds himself up against you. your back against the bed, other hand trailing between your thighs, you just as desperate for his touch.

 he lifts the gown up slowly, teasing you with his touch. his head drops into the crane of your neck, kissing it softly before tugging your panties down softly. a soft gasp escapes you and he whispers something in your ear.

 “so fuckin’ beautiful.”

 your eyes roll back as he swirls your clit, the sensation incredible. “fuck.”

 “taste good too.”

 he enters a finger before he slowly moves his body down. his motion was slow and you whine when he leaves you. looking down seeing him between your thighs now, inches from you. his eyes flicker up, the blue prominent.

“impatient ay’?” your hand flies into his hair. trying to ignore the urge to roll your eyes,

“did ya’ forget that already?”

 without another word his tongue swirls around you, a soft moan leaves you. he continues but slowly adding a finger. your calves press into his shoulders more, leaving his tongue to move slightly faster.

 “oh th-” he slides another finger in making your words cut short, back arching off the bed slightly. giving him access to push your gown up above your breast. his hand comes back down around your thighs, feeling them shake around him.

 unable to take it anymore your hand pushes at his head, but he holds it down instead. speeding up as your stomach drops, a moan leaving your throat. liquid coats his fingers and tongue as he stands up completely.

 “do ya’ love anyone y/n?” the question caught you off guard. your breathing uneven coming down from your high; his pants drop and your body felt even more turned on.

 “never really had a chance to experience love. probably doesn’t exist.” you confess the mere summary as you spread your shaky legs. his grip on them tightens, moving you closer to him.

 he stares down at you in a way that you truly didn’t understand. “i like ya’, ms.solomons.” he confesses as he spits down on you. the action so dirty, but the confession so clean.

 “just y/n, thomas.” the intent was known and he kisses your knee before moving. the feeling of him entering you slowly, made you grip his arm that held your waist. 

 “i sometimes-” you stutter out as he rocks against you slowly, fighting to keep your eyes open.

 “i sometimes like to believe it could be true.”

 he leans forward, the angle deeper than before as he kisses you deeply. his free hand coming to cup your jaw. his hips pick up speed leaving you a moaning mess in his mouth.

 he was gentle, taking in what you reacted too. this wasn’t your first time but he felt as if you were innocent in a way. your eyes flicker up to him before you tug your dress over your head.

 leaving you both completely exposed, “it’s true.” he confesses pulling away, turning holding you up against him as he lays down. your knees against the bed as he bucks up into him.

 “ya’ crazy mr.shelby.” he pushes your hips down even more leading to the familiar feeling arise again. your nails sink in his shoulder, biting your lip clinging to him.

 “say’s the one who’s dead.” you try to get a witty remark out but your orgasm spreads, feeling yourself starting to clench.

 “yet ya’ look so fucking alive around me.” the wetness spreads down your thighs as he doesn’t let you go. “m-maybe i feel alive- with ya’.” the deep moan leaves you, the feeling of your bare chest touching had you in a whirl.

 he’s buried deep in you as you cling to him, almost in tears overstimulated. you beg him. “tho-thomas. i-”

“so fuckin’ good.” his his shake slightly, as he leans back staring into your eyes. “do you trust me?” at how you were feeling you’d trust anything. your eyes flutter but you nod.

  he stutters into you as his releases inside you making your eyes widen. pulling back panting as his eyes connect with yours. two different looks.

 “wh-what did you do?”

 “do ya’ trust me?” the logic in the room was clearly not there because without a second thought you nod again. he kisses you softly, “be mine. stay alive and i promise ya’ everything you could need.”

 you pull yourself out of him, wincing at the feeling. your eyes stare into his, as the covers surround you,

“but you don’t love me.” 

 his eyes drop slightly, “i can see somethin’ in you. i need someone like ya’, think of this as something good.” you feel so exposed staring at him in disgust. “ya’-ya’ just came in me, who knows if i’ll get pregnant! thi-this is not gonna end well. what the fuck were ya’ thinking?”

 “what the fuck was i thinkin’? oh my go-”

 he sits up, “i’m thinking fuckin’ smart! ya’ know this shit, i am rising y/n, i need a wife and i need someone who can be that wife.” you stare at him and stop for a moment. it cut off your overthinking for a moment.

 it wouldn’t be real but it could be. yet either way you could be safe... you could be free of being on the run. you could be alive.

 “i need to think on it? i-i can have your answer tonight.” your words tremble slightly as you slip your gown on, facing away from him. “hey.” his hand lands on your shoulder. 

your flinch makes him wince, scooting closer to you. covered up with the sheets. “i haven’t asked just anyone this question. this is fuckin’ insane but i-i do like ya’. we can figure this shit out because you know it’s true.”

 “you need me just as much as i need you.” you mutter as a  small smile appears on your lips, “i need a shower for a fact and nap thomas. you have somewhere to be, should get going.”

 his hand leaves yours taking your hint, “i’ll knock on your door tonight. get some rest.”

after he redresses and the door closes behind him, the tears stream down your cheeks. you wanted him but you were so scared and conflicted.

 your answer was yes from the moment you realize he was as stubborn as you but you were now a ghost.

-

 you were laid down, the candles still lit allowing thomas to see your image. he walks closer but you were barely asleep. he sits down beside you and sighs heavily.

 he doesn’t know you’ve woken up, and his energy was strong. you figured thomas shelby out and for a man to keep you around long enough...

 you knew from the beginning you liked this man, but being ‘dead’ has made you believe any. any of that type of thing was impossible. slowly you turn over, facing the man who stares ahead.

 “eric is tryin’ to be a political man. if ya’ know alfie, imagine a sickenin’ no good bastard times a billion.... as him.” the words made thomas sit a bit straighter. you felt vulnerable now, half asleep tucked into a new home.

 you had to give a answer.

 “i’ve looked him up, he isn’t much and from what i’ve heard. alfie really doesn’t give two fucks for him.” the way he settles his sentence lets you know that eric is no threat. to you or himself in any aspect.

 “charlie’s mother, i-i won’t ask you to speak of her.” you sit up now, thomas takes in your sleepy appearance. “if i take on that boy as my own. i will love and teach him as my own, but you have to tell me about her so he can know his true mother.”

 your eyes swell up slightly. “she won’t be forgotten in your mind ever, i know that. so let me learn, let me be there for you so i don’t go crazy. so i-i can do better...”

 the words hit thomas and he only shifts to maintain his composure. you don’t notice since your emotional more so, but he knows he did right choosing you.

 “i have a story, everything about how to make you ‘undead’ since your job at it wasn’t the best.” that made your eyes look up at him.  “i know ya’ can’t be her, but i do have some’ towards you.” 

his hand reaches out to cup your face. “she wanted some of the stuff you did as well...”

 the deep stare was all that was needed, you let this moment last. he was gone when he lost her. loosing her was loosing apart of himself. you accepted it because you truly knew love was not meant for you in this lifetime.

 slowly breaking the moment, lips almost trembling but your composure well gathered now. “if we do this- ya’ can’t treat or make me out to be some fool of a house wife. i-i’m more than that and i’ll be damned to be one of your puppets.”

 moving out of his reach makes you ache for it more yet thomas sees something within you. you were sorta like polly sometimes. strongly determined woman.

 “ya’ help me stay together, ya’ help me keep this household together... my family together and whatever ya’ want is yours.” flickering from each eye, he awaits your response and you nod.

 “i agree, to be your wife. i agree to hold your secrets, now for i wish to get rid of the jewish ways though... go back to the gypsie ways. please.” your desperation was without notice and he kisses you.

 kissing you felt like kissing grace.

kissing you felt like kissing grace.

-

  setting down the glass of whiskey, your eyes train along the inside courier. everything was simple, everything was different. charles was taken to bed not too long ago, you didn’t see much of him but it made you think.

 too take on this responsibility was what you were raised for. yet you ran from it because eric was a vile man... so is thomas. your heart aches though due to the surprising feeling erupting yourself; that you may just like the man ever so slightly.

 with your past and his it felt like you both being so fucked up, it could work? sighing heavily and grabbing the glass once more. the liquid slips down your throat as you enjoy the peace of true alone time.

 telling his maid, well lady of help to head to sleep since you were up. if charles was to awake you could handle it or if need be. get her up. charles really ponders through your mind, for you would be like a mother.

 you could be his mother, yet you would never wanna replace his true mother. what was she even like? what did she view or believe? what the hell did she see in thomas shelby?

 he said she was a bit like you, in what fucking way?

 you move and see her painting and you looked nothing of her. she looked of class and elegance, some real princess shit. you didn’t compare to that, so what motive was this?

 make me alive again, was this his plan? biting your lip you throw back the remaining liquor. rolling your eyes at the empty cup, you head towards the kitchen.

 smiling to yourself of the kindness that francis left out the bottle for you. moving forward you almost reach the counter but you were hit over the head. your body hit the ground harshly, the glass breaking surrounds you.

 it flashes back to the moments of your mothers death. yet before you could react you were hit again, and the darkness overtook you.

-

 you awoke in a moving vehicle, head pounding your face contorts in displeasure. trying to focus your vision, your eyes land on a priest as well as a few other men.

 “hello miss solomons.” the priest smiles wickedly and you stare back unfazed, or atleast as much as you could appear.

 “well you see, there’s so many ways this here can go. yet as of right now, you are actually of great use.” his tone menacing and your head was spinning.

 you try desperately to maintain eye contact with his. unsatisfied with your response of nothing; he nods as one of his men move forward. the hit makes your head sling to the side. blood literally splattering onto the window beside you.

 the taste of blood in your mouth has became a all too familiar feeling. as you let your head hang lowly, you over hear someone mutter. “we are almost there.”   

 moving your hand to wipe your chin, seeing the back of your hand covebloody finally angers you. not knowing where this was going, you finally look back up. “i think we might just have to use the boy instead.” 

your heart drops, distracted now. the boy? of course it had to be...

“what boy?” you finally speak, it slightly muffled due to your severe swollen lip. this gets the mans reaction. “she speaks!”

 “what boy?” you question again, feeling a sense of protectiveness all of a sudden. what is going on with you?

 “ahh, mr.shelby’s boy. ya’ see we have a deadline, and i do have orders with him. oh i spoke to your cousin mr.solomons... he does seem to have a keen interest of seeing you.”

 sitting back you take in everything, the deep wrenching pain in your chest over came you. ”didn’t mention if it meant alive or dead, though. dear.”

 tears fill your eyes, as you realize everything. this was all a lie, a pawn, a game.

 “yet your price is a wager, does thomas care more for your safety or does your cousin? or i could merely kill you now and just let you be what you so ‘desire’.”

 his words let everything truly settle now. you never escaped. you just switched paths.

 it almost could make you laugh, until it did. you looked crazy and stupid but you were laughing, hysterically almost. wincing at your lip throbbing, heaving out as your head pounds from the movement. you stare into the mans eyes dazed. he stares back at you in discomfort but looks away.

 thomas got his own kid into this shit. he better have this all figured out. dizzy from the amount of hits to the head you’ve taken. you look back over and see the man on your right snatching out two pills. eyes widening slightly as you try to move back.

 “what is that? wh-wha-no!” the men hold you down, your kicks and hits defenseless. the pills shoved in your mouth. water forced down your throat whilst your nose was plugged, left you choking on the water. forcing you to swallow.

 yet they continue it for a few seconds longer, leaving you to start choking horribly. knowing it was swallowed, you were let go finally. shaking and drenched in water, you wildly swing your fist forward. 

pure rage in hitting the man on the right. your leg kicks the other guy, before you hit the priest once. a strong hit leaves you slumped, mind swirling until you were no longer able to stay awake.

-

 a strong jerk makes your eyes flicker open. charles was crying softly, making you ignore your own pain. sitting up you look at the man holding him. out of it but desperate you plea.

 “give him to me. please, i-i was a mother, i know how to make him stop.” you lie out of instinct but the man seems irritated and hands charles over with ease. ignoring their looks as we come to a stop.

 pressing a soft kiss to his head, you hold him soft rocking him softly. your watch the men get out of the vehicle, it was dark out now and your head hurt so bad.

 keeping it together for the sake of charles, you try to stay focused. the priest man comes back and you clutch charles more tightly, charles surprisingly soothes down within your hold.

 “come on, lets go.” knowing what happen last time, you slowly move out the car, careful with charles the cold wind hits your skin for your only in a nightgown and light sweater. which was blood stained.

 the darkness led you to follow him, but soon a room with light appears. you sat down as instructed, feeling the light make your head hurt worse. you notice the two other guys didn’t follow through and he was now alone.

 trying not to move, you let charles sit beside you. oddly enough he gave charles something to eat while you stay silent. he looks up at you with a smile.

 “the deal is all taken care of, you will be taken care of soon.”

 this sick bastard. he gets up suddenly looking back at me, “stay here.” the tone was threatening and you nod softly. scared of what might happen, you sit quietly listening in hard. 

moments pass before you heard the words uttered, “please don’t shoot.” you fly up, feeling dizzy from the quickness, glancing back seeing if charles will be okay. 

moving forward grasping the wall beside you, as the spots slowly fade from your vision. following the way he took trying to listen in on where the sounds were coming from.

 moving quicker at the noise of grunting and painful sounds, ignoring your own pain. you round the corner, taking in the sight of the priest guy fighting a younger guy. 

 in the oddest moment you notice a hat, the familiar hat. the cap thomas had, a similar one on the ground.  “you know who your fucking messing with?” 

 he throws the guy against a bench, swinging on him. both hands wrap around his throat in such a swift motion. the look on his face reminded you of what yours probably looked like. without thinking you grab a nearby book.

“i’ll take the fuckin’ life from ya’.” you throw the book, it missing your goal hitting him in the back. “leave him the hell alone!” rushing forward, as he turns around one arm coming out. his elbow hits you harshly making you fly back.

 hitting the side of a bench, your ribs aching out from the movement. not even knowing what you hit, you stay on the floor. tears leave your eyes unwillingly from the pain.

 flying back the back of your head slams into a bench, rolling over sideways. in a slump, you barely were able to make out what was in front of you. all the damage to your head, you knew in nursing this was severe.

“both of ya’ gypsie bastards” without a second thought, the man slices the priest eye. him stumbling back in pain, as the younger man kept coming and coming at him.

 “melanie?” you call out as you swore you heard her voice. snapping out of it at the slam open of doors.

 two men emerge from a door, too much in pain to handle that situation. trying to push up, hearing the sound of charles cries. “charles.” you gasp out, completely remembering the boy. 

managing to get up shakily, moving forward only to stop momentarily. taking in the sight of the bloody mess of the once alive priest. the image locks you in, before you turn back. your were weak and slow but you reach charles.

collapsing beside him leaning back against a near wall. ignoring everything in the world, for it was too much to bare. how odd you found yourself near something of pure innocence; after the chaos you just endured.

 charles babbles as you softly sob, “oh charles.”

“it’s alright.” the mans voice spoke, stopping you momentarily. you went silent uncertain exactly anymore of anything. despite everything though you speak up.

 “thank ya’.” your tone hush as if you weren’t bold to speak loud. the man sighs out and you wince.

 “but ya’ gotta get th-thomas.” the words slip out weakly, eyes flutter as they gaze upon the boy. not even noticing he came around the corner. blood soaked and shaken up, trying desperate to stay focused.

 “i’m michael, i’m tommy’s cousin.”

 so simple, which was all that was needed. “y/n solomons.” he helps you up, you lean against the wall as he scoops charles up. “hold onto my arm, there is a car outside.”

 managing to get inside, but once settled your body slumps. you try to stay up, but the tiredness takes over.

 still out not noticing you arriving at the shop, or that michael already took charles inside to the rest of his family. he notified them of you. ada and polly knew for they were the ones who helped you get your clothing.

 thomas spoke of you to arthur once.

 michael ends up carrying your lifeless looking form inside. polly rushing out orders, ada making a place for you to lay. you were set down and polly pushes your hair out of the way examining you, but when she touches you.

 her heart sank. for no reason apparent it just did. 

 “someone call thomas.” and the cheerful glee of happiness of charles was apparent but the dark silent loom of your appearance was one of unease.

 “mum, sh-she helped save him.” he confessed out to polly, who let out a sigh. “well call the damn doctor as well, for christ sakes.”

 your eyes flutter open slowly, “charles?”

 polly grasp your hand, “he’s safe dear, your both safe now.”

 “n-no my head. i can’t my head.” you groan in agony, and your heart aches. “thomas?”

 the room went silent. “tho-thomas?” polly speaks up, “he’s on the way.” yet after those words your eyes roll back. “the doctors on the way!” ada calls out and polly sighs in worry for the girl.

[toastytoaster22]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @wingsonghalo

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

47!

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

753,979 holy shit

3. What fandoms do you write for?

These days just Mob Psycho 100, but I have written for Digimon Adventure and Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle as well.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

A little surprised by number 5 here! its such a teeny fic compared to the others.

Issho 2. Break 3. A Mother Muses 4. Socha 5. Stars on My Ceiling

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try! There was a big gap in 2022 where i had a newborn and zero time and energy, but usually I try to get a thank you out to everyone.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm the "happy ending guaranteed" author so very few of my fics end sad, but I do have a Digimon fic called Hugs Are Like Vitamins that is an exception to the rule. Very sad ending.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

The end of Issho is probably the most satisfying ending, but I am unsure if its the happiest. Honestly, Stars on My Ceiling is cavity inducing. Effervescent is also painfully sweet. Chapter three of Into Bloom. all of these are pure fluff.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Extremely rarely. It has happened, and I don't engage. Deleted! Goodbye!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

You know, I don't consider Leaps and Bounds smut. Its a fic that has a lot of explicit sex in it, but the story is about learning to be comfortable in the bedroom. If the sex is sexy, that's a bonus hahaha

10. Do you write crossovers?

I haven't yet, but I think about them sometimes...

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge. Here's hoping it stays that way.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Two, I think! Break was translated into Russian by @teawithbread!!! Thanks so much!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I think I would be a nightmare to work with actually. I have had people ask and I politely decline.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I am not very into romance in general, so I have to say TeruMob. They're basically the only ship I care about. I enjoy the idea of TaKari in Digimon but more as soulmates... could be platonic or romantic. They are inseparable no matter what.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My Never Hopeless sequel, A Dream In The Dark. UGHHHHHHHHH its only on ff.net bc i am so ashamed of dropping a project. I do still have the BINDER i wrote all my notes in though so perhaps when I am 80 I can dig it up and finish it.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Children! Hello! I write realistic children! And connecting readers to memories they forgot they had, apparently. Its a frequent comment topic.

I'm very good at describing hard to describe emotions and I think my pacing is good. I like writing endings that punch you with a final line to tie it all together. I'm a sucker for that shit.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I slow down dialogue with a few too many movement descriptions, I think. I just really like body language aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I am too tired to really think this through. For the most part, seeing as I am writing for shows that are originally in Japanese, I try to keep food names accurate. I try to translate words unless they have no english equivalent like genkan. Foyer or entryway doesn't feel the same? I also tend to keep specific titles in japanese, seeing as they can get awkward or clunky when changed to english equivalents.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

On Ao3 it was Digimon and that's all you're getting out of me.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I love all my children equally (Issho). But no seriously Break is insanely good and when i have Nightjar finished I will feel like its my new favorite child. Usually its whatever the last thing i wrote was.

UUUUUUUUU Tagging @ygodmyy20 @sodasexual @babovens @and-devi-remains @fizzy-champagne

[4ragon]

So I just reblogged another aa fanfic masterlist, and that seemed like a cool idea. SO, since so many people are migrating to here from Twitter (and especially since this is the only place where my name doesn't match my AO3 account) I thought should put a list of my AA fics together! (I'd do the other fandoms but I don't think I'd have a substantial enough list)

So here's the JJ Ace Attorney fanfic masterlist:

Long Fics -

The Miraculous Disappearance Of Phoenix Wright (107,213 words)

Phoenix Wright wakes up in a world where he never existed. What will he do when he's trapped in a world where everything he's ever loved is gone? Minor narumitsu. My first AA fic, and the fic that got me back into writing for the first time since I was a shitty teenager.

(Also please read the tags, this one has some heavy subject matter and a LOT of spoilers)

Singderella (28,103 words)

Apollo decides to try his hand at a singing contest, held by a certain ex-rockstar, for a chance to win some runner-up money. He didn't want to win the dang contest. And he sure as hell didn't want to become Klavier Gavin's mysterious disappearing muse. This one is Klapollo and this one's Silly As Hell.

Vacation All I Ever Wanted (111,197 words)

Six lawyers and a magician spend a week at the beach. One condo. Six lawyers. Seven secret plans. What could possibly go wrong? Established narumitsu, getting-together klapollo, platonic Athena and Simon, and Trucy Wright in all her glory. (Also has some AA4 and 5 spoilers)

also @/ministarfruit drew me fanart and it made me cry

Shorter Klapollo fics -

Google Search: how to turn off a gaviners alarm clock

Google Search: off button on gaviners alarm clock Google Search: how to end my suffering Google Search: please god i just wanted to sleep in

No I did not write this as a thinly veiled excuse to complain about my roommate's alarm clock what are you talking about

Also fanart from @/lycheestew

Don't Get Too Comfortable

Apollo gets caught in a rainstorm, so Klavier invites him to wait it out at his condo. Written for the Klapollo Unfolding Melody zine. I'm really proud of this one!

Either Way

It's Klavier's first week back since the Misham Trial, and Klavier had yet to gather the courage to see Apollo Justice. At least, until Apollo Justice grabs him in a panic and shoves the two of them into a broom closet.

(Klapollo Week 2021 - Protection)

Atroquinine My Love (Accoustic)

When Apollo asks Klavier for guitar lessons, Klavier is more than happy to oblige. Written for the 2021 Klapollo minibang, featuring lovely art from the wonderful @/nhuquyen

Half-and-Half

Klavier and Apollo go on their first date. That's it. That's the fic.

(Klapollo Week 2021 - Firsts)

Of Petals and Punctuality

Klavier forgets about their anniversary. That's also it. (Everyone also says this fic makes them sad but I thought it was fucking funny when I wrote it)

(Klapollo Week 2021 - Flowers)

Just A Quiet Morning

Apollo Justice wakes up to make breakfast on his wedding anniversary.

(Klapollo Week 2023 - Domesticity)

Schatz

“Hey, Athena, what does ‘shots’ mean?” Pre-dating, Athena and Phoenix mess with Apollo.

(Klapollo Week 2023 - Nicknames)

Narumitsu fics -

Procrastination

Prompt: Pre-dating narumitsu pinning and yearning for each other and all their friends and family trying to find a way for them to be finally be together

This was for a secret santa.

The Gentleman Always Gets the Girl

Sorry, Mr. Edgeworth, but the gentleman always gets the girl.

(Narumitsu Week 2023 - Foreign)

But I Thought You Hated The Mall

Miles takes Trucy to the mall. This does not go as planned.

(Narumitsu Week 2023 - Family)

Gen Fics -

A Different Kind of Lullaby (Warning, major AAI2 Spoilers)

“Hi Mr. Edgeworth, do you think Pops killed my mom?”

@/ehlihr drew the coolest fucking comic btw holy shit

Baking and Entering

Kay and Sebastian break into Edgeworth's house to bake a cake. This one was for the Dadworth Lion Lillies zine and I'm also super proud of it.

Juniper Dumped Me

Wait, wait when were Juniper and I dating?!

In which Juniper dumps Apollo, who absolutely knows what's happening, don't worry about it. Minor Junithena, literally the stupidest thing I've ever written. Dedicated to my discord friends who helped me come up with the idea.

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Kay Faraday has a secret and Miles has to get to the bottom of it. Also has some AAI2 spoilers.

Another Trip Around The Sun

Apollo Justice's first birthday without Clay Terran. Minor klapollo. It's a story about grief and I did cry while writing it.

Just a Roll of Stamps

It's been a year since Phoenix officially adopted Trucy, and Phoenix is starting to worry that she hasn't made any friends.

(Wright Family Week 2021 - Friends)

Bet On It

Apollo and Athena vs. Trucy and Phoenix. Whoever beats the escape room first wins. Whoever loses buys noodles for a year. But…it can't be that simple, right?

(Wright Family Week 2021 - Scheming and Hijinks)

Dear Runo

Phoenix and Trucy decide to clean out their spare room, and discover an old cardboard box labeled Grandpa Ryuu. Inside, they discover some old books, some letters, and possibly an old secret?! (Or maybe not). This one was for another secret santa exchange.

First Class Accomodations

After the events of Investigations 2, Sebastian Debeste is invited to spend a few nights at the Courtney residence while he figures out what to do next.

This was written for the AA Writer Zine and I am very proud of it.

Tumblr Original Ficlets

Ficlets include narumitsu, klapollo, and a few junithena, and one (1) blackmadhi.

Anyway, I think that's everything. Y'all super don't have to read these, I just wanted all of them in one place. If you do read them, though, feel free to let me know if you liked them! Comments and stuff make my day.

[dominimoonbeam]

The Fanfic Writer Questionnaire!

I was tagged by @ejunkiet to do this Fanfic Writer Questionnaire and now that I'm FINALLY getting back to my "normal" life and writing and talking to people again after the move, this seemed like a really fun way to start! I think I got waaaaaaaaaay to in-depth and confessional.

Tagging some people who I'd love to see play but also just anyone feeling like it! @glassbearclock @taelonsamada @romirola @zozo-01 @colloquialcolival

1 - How many works do you have on AO3?

130. I had to look up my stats and I had no idea! 92 of those are Redacted…

2 - What's your total AO3 word count?

Holy shit… 907,249

3 - What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Redacted, TOG, and 19 Days but I’ve dabbled in a handful of others over the years.

4 - What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Finally Alive (TOG), Waiting (TOG), Pieces of the Moon (TOG), Open (19 Days), and Kicking and Screaming (TOG). Look at The Old Guard dominating that particular stat!

5 - Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! There have been times where I miss one or too much time has gone, but otherwise yes. I love comments. For a long time I got in my own head about comments or even liking things because I thought I was bothering people, and that sometimes carries over to replying to comments when I’ve been busy and a week or two has passed, but then I just do it because nice things are always okay to toss out into the world!

6 - What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don’t think I do ansty endings… I do a shit ton of trauma and hurt, but there’s always comfort payoff. Lemme see… OH! Oh fuck, it’s Stop it. I love that tiny ficlet. Warden blows themself up to take Vega with them out of Elegy.

7 -What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Almost all of my fics have a happy ending… or at least the promise of happiness to come. I need a happy ending. I absolutely run from anything (fics, books, movies, shows) if I see any hint that they’re aiming to hurt/no comfort me.

Lemme see… who had the happiest ending… I’m going to say Come Home. It’s a Nightwing/Cassandra Cain fic I did ages back and something about that ending and them is just particularly satisfying to me. And Scars That Remind. I think the hard road and possibility of not getting that happy ending makes it happier... if that makes sense to anyone else?

8 - Do you get hate on fics?

Not usually but it has happened. Both the stuff that’s just someone taking a topic or character personally, or trying to make a statement, and actual vomit emojis.... hehe it was a particularly lewd fic and I think they were inspired to hate because I actually said I was proud of the work and I don't usually share those feelings/thoughts.

9 - Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh my, yes. Where's the stat for that? I'm a sucker for deep emotional connections and trust. Even when I set out to write porn, it ends up being emotional.

10 - Do you write crossovers?

Nope.

11 - Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12 - Have you ever had a fic translated?

Maybe? I had someone ask if they could translate one of my 19 Days fics for another site and I said they could as long as they weren't pretending they wrote it.

13 - Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. I'm not really comfortable co-writing like that. But I used to write on rp sites long ago (it's where I met my person) and even before that I used to write stories with a friend. We would actually trade notebooks back and forth between classes to read what the other had done and add to it.

14 - What's your all time favorite ship?

Oh shit... It's been a lot of ships.

15 - What's a WIP that you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I really hate the pressure to finish long fics. I used to only do long fics because I want to keep the world and keep adding but then there's the pressure where people ask if you've abandoned it. And I always feel like "no? it's not a couch I left by the street. it's a fic. i wrote it. it's mine even if it's unended forever." And I just really want the option to go back into that world and keep going even if it's years later (which I have definitely done). ...This is absolutely my way of not answering this question.

16 - What are your writing strengths?

I'm usually pretty fast when I'm in it? And dialogue? I think I'm okay at dialogue

17 - What are your writing weaknesses?

Remembering my own descriptive choices? Weather, dates, settings, side-character names... Fluff. I'm not good at writing wholesome everyday things. Some people are so incredible at that and I'm just not. I just straight to the meat of everything every time. I worry it harms the flow and build of a lot of things.

18 - Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I will usually dance around it if it's not a language I know, like just saying in narrative that the character said it in another language, assuming both parties understand or making a point of them not. I looooved this with Nicky and Joe in TOG and the idea of them using each others languages in the early decades to try to communicate better when what they were saying became important OR going back to their own when they're too upset to use a second language.

19 - First fandom you wrote for?

Technically... The Black Jewels Trilogy when I was a baby. Like I said, I was so shy and just, afraid of being in the way in the world. I had been reading fics for years but didn't even have an account. I start writing some for Black Jewels and made and account and posted... Someone rolled into the comments and picked it apart. I'm sure it wasn't as bad as I remember. I guess I'd used a lot of the terms in the books wrong? I was so horrified I deleted the fic and the account and didn't fic for a few more years. I even deleted the fic from my computer. I've dug around looking for it again since but it's absolutely gone. SO, the actual answer, is The Covenant over on ffnet. I couldn't find much of what I wanted so I started writing it.

20 - Favorite fic you've written?

Favorite of my own!!? I am surprised how uncomfortable I am answering that... Okay, the thing is, I love my fics. I am so scared to admit that because it feels conceded as fuck but I honestly write what I want to read for the most part. I do go back and reread my own shit. Soooo I'm going to say Pieces of the Moon. It short and sweet and feels like a fairy tale. But the answer would change week to week.

[epithet-beloved]

I'm back invading your inbox because. Holy shit? You guys understand Slim so well oh my GOD?? I don't encounter many people that see Slim the way I do ohnmygoshdhhh

Anywho

I'm here to pester you for more dad figure Slim

Perhaps one where the reader gets beat up somehow?

Or maybe reader playfully roughhousing with him

Up to you!

synopsis…  protective fatherly slim !!

ft. california slim

tags… epithet erased spoilers, protectiveness, violence mentioned, allusion to murder

word count… 655

a/n… I AM GIGGLING KICKING MY LEGS I'M SO HAPPY THE PEOPLE LIKE THE WAY WE WRITE SLIM I spent so much time analyzing him it’s a little silly HAHA I'M SO HAPPYYY also protective slim ftw we love seeing it. I love him ✧ 🦇

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Oh I love writing protective Slim. This man would kill for you and it’s not even an exaggeration.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Especially if you share some sort of father/kid bond

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 He hates seeing you hurt in general, and his instinct to protect is incredibly strong

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 He’s good at treating wounds, he’s always had to treat his own, so you can count on him if you get hurt in any way.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 And strangely enough, he seems to offer the right words of comfort if needed while he patches you up

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Now if someone hurts you, oh

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Oh

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Slim is Not gonna hold back; no one hurts his kid

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 He’s not letting anything or anyone take away someone he loves again.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 It's not hard to spot the absolute panic in his eyes as he finds you and looks over you, making sure none of your wounds are fatal and that nothing is broken.

“What the hell happened to you?!”

“Does it hurt? Who the hell did this to you? I’m going to kill them.”

“Don’t scare me like this ever again! Come on, I’ll get ya patched up.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪His panic is quick to turn into blind rage as he goes to face the people who hurt you (after he’s brought you to a safer spot, of course)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Don’t question him about what he’s done after he comes back with dark stains all over him and Hollywood Boulevard. He is not going to answer and just mumble how you’re more important right now. 

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 He doesn’t want to scare you, even if you know he’s doing all of it to protect you.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 It still feels kind of weird for him to admit he cares so much about someone, it’s been… Hell, at least 13 years since he last felt such a need to protect someone. But he can’t help it. In a way, he missed the feeling of caring so much. You remind him of Her too much.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 And because of that, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he were to lose you.

“Ehy, don’t scare me like that ever again, okay kid? You’re lucky I was around to take care of ‘em, eh.” California Slim flashes you a toothy grin as he wraps a bandage around your bruised leg, and he’s surprisingly gentle in his movements as he does so; you still need to grow accustomed to how gently he tends to you, how his roughness seems to completely disappear, as if he’s afraid you’re going to break any second. “Also gave me a good excuse to let off some steam, I needed that- now dontcha sulk like that.” You had noticed that, in his instinct to protect you, he’s gotten some bad bruises himself. So he quickly pinches your cheek, hoping to get at least a small giggle out of you. “I gotta teach ya how to protect yourself- I’m the only one allowed to beat ya in a fight! Ha!” He snorts as he hears Alcatraz loudly complain at him for his choice of wording. You can’t help but laugh along with Slim. Poor Al.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 His way of teaching you “how to protect yourself” is also honestly an excuse to play fight with you. He likes it, and you actually learn a lot from him.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 If instead of getting hurt in a fight you get hurt in another way, then he just gets an instinct to tend to you and protect you until you feel better. Can’t walk? He’s carrying you in his back. He’s stronger than he looks.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Even if he’s badly hurt himself. He doesn’t care about his situation. You’re more important. He can pass out later, he has you to tend to first, even if Alcatraz is begging him to rest for even a second.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 He’s a little self destructive, but he thinks it’s worth it when it comes to you.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 You’re his kid, after all. He has a duty to keep up.

[txxfiles]

give me all the fics where the boys kiss

Hi! It looks like I'm week 3!

I honestly have no idea idea what im doing really but i guess you'll just have to listen to me ramble about something i enjoy. Seems to fit the theme we've accidentally settled on and well! if theres one thing im good at rambling about its bl fanfiction. i read ALOT of fanfiction. like 13million words worth of it in 2023 alone (an estimate but i did the ugly math for jan and feb last year and id already read 2.7 million words so i dont think its too high an estimate).

ive read fics from too many fandoms to count and also have way more hyperfixations then any one person has a right too but the one that has owned my ass consistently for the last 4 years is The Untamed otherwise know as Mo Dao Zu Shi (MDZS).

The lovely Eucalyptus from week 2 was watching the untamed during covid (and holy shit what a wild ride that was) and the next thing I know im neck deep drowning in fan art and tiktok edits of beautiful chinese men that have no business being as talented as they are (Im looking at u Wang Yibo) This. shit. fucked. up. my. life.

then i turned to my good friend AO3 (love of my life i could not exist without you) and 4 years later ive read my tags dry. if its complete, ive read it. im getting desperate and ive started reading works in progress, yikes. its so risky i honestly cannot tell you how much anxiety it gives me. ive been burnt too many times.

HOWEVER

this does mean if you need a fic recommendation then your girl has got you covered, so i figured i would share with you my TOP SIX fic recommendations. im sorry i tried to make it 5 but i just couldnt do it.

I will be chasing a starlight by feyburner & sundiscus 

Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji - 71,479 words - Complete

Omg. Wangxian Startrek AU. The pining, the miscommunication. I felt every range of emotion on this roller-coaster. I literally printed this out so that I could keep it forever. I wish I could read it for the first time all over again. This Fic hit AO3 like a comet. It even has it’s own Tumblr thread! Also comes with stunning fanart.

Paint smears on sunny days by SnowshadowAO3 

Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji - 53,808 words - Complete

Modern Day AU, Musician/Single dad Lan Wangji falls in love with his son’s Art Teacher Wei Wuxian. I swear it's one of the cutest stories ever written, makes me feel all the good things. A-yuan is adorable and wangxian are hot and charming. The Ultimate wangxian comfort fic. 

Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller 

Jin Rulan & Wei Wuxian - 63,907 words - Complete

Jin Ling fishes his Da-Ju out of the gutter post canon (Literally dying alone in a dirty inn, Wei Wuxian it's been 5 minutes pls) and decides if no one else is gonna keep him then he damn well will. 

It is perfect.  

Junior Quartet goodness, Yunmeng bro reconciliation and Jin Ling being a boss bitch little shit that has no time for anyone's bullshit. I cried as much as Jin Ling did in this story – which is alot. (Also another story ive made myself a solid copy of that i can love forever)

Joy In The Mindst of These Things by Glitterbombshell 

Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji - 52,901 words - 5 Works

TEACHER WEI WUXIAN! I love this trope with my whole soul. Lots of adorable baby Lans, I would kill for them. Beautifully written. Lan Qiren gets a much needed wakeup call. Last story is incomplete but can be read without the 5th installment. SO WORTH IT, ive read it like 10 times

The One-Body Problem by mitisket 

Lan Jingyi & Wei Wuxian - 28,689 words - Complete

Well shit. How many times have a reread this story? I honestly couldn't tell you. Jingyi gets possessed by Wei Wuxian’s very tired soul pre canon and it changes nothing and yet everything. Their friendship gives me life and Jingyi fixes a lot of problems for his new bestie/mentor/uncle with his big mouth. Mom I love him 

The Edge of Night by Hobbsy3 

Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji - 277,225 words - Complete

The best Zombie Apocalypse au on the MDZS tag honestly. There are so many good zombie film references in this one, i see you Train to Busan. Baby junior quartet, a perfect Wei Wuxian modern day depiction and so much love, angst and stress. It's delicious and I've never recovered.  

All of these fics are actually part of a mother document i made last week of all my favourite fics organised by tag because apparently thats what i do with my free time. hit me up if you need a rec!

Now that ive gotten that off my chest i'll let you be lol. maybe I'll do a rec for a different fandom next time. I definitely have enough to choose from!

Lots of Love,

Iris

[harleyshahas]

[5 comfort characters and 5 tags]

I was tagged in something!!! Holy shit, thank you @heartlessfujoshi !!

So uh... there's been so many characters over the years it's hard to narrow down to just 5! But there are ones that I always find myself coming back to for one reason or another so we'll start with:

Sora (Kingdom Hearts) - My son. My sweet baby boy. My beautiful sunshine boy. This kid makes me cry every single time I play these games, without fail. I know a lot of people latch on to Riku for one reason or another, and I know there was a lot of Sora hate when Two came out, but I have grown up with Sora, and I love his drive, his commitment, his optimism. Hes not afraid to rely on his friends, and he's been able to find the light in the dark every time his circumstances spiral, and there's been so many times in my life where I've needed that, and I just appreciate it so much in him.

Sly Cooper (Sly Cooper/Sly Raccoon) - this one's a little embarrassing, but I can't make this list without him. If there's one game I go back to more than KH, then it's the Sly series. In the words of Kevin Miller, he's cool, he's calm, and he has a sexy voice. It's a game I love to play on a rainy day, and I love watching Sly grow into himself as both a thief and a person, learning to rely on his friends, living up to his family name, and then learning to let it go when the time finally comes. He's wonderful and I adore him.

Yugi Muto (Yu-Gi-Oh) - oh boy. He's sunshine and sweetness and adorable, and I won't hear a bad word about him! YGO was my very first fandom. It introduced me to online spaces like forums, DA, LJ, and ffnet. Once again, here is a character who's not afraid to rely on his friends, who can find light in the dark places, and is incredibly driven (I'm sensing a theme here...). He wants nothing but the best for the people around him and I just love him so, so much.

Eggsy Unwin (Kingsman) - He's just... He's a near perfect character! Kingsman is easily one of my top two favorite movies, and Eggsy is such a big part of why it's a great movie. His family is broken when he's a kid, he grows up in a terrible environment but still recognizes that his mum did the absolute best that she could for him and he loves her regardless. He loves his baby half sister and wants the best for her, but because of his circumstances he can't provide that for her. Even after he's offered a way out, he still has trouble getting over his flaws, with reconciling who he's been and what he wants to become, and he's willing to put forth the effort to make the changes he needs to make to become that better person. He's kind, he's determined, he's a snarky shit, and he's great.

Jack Skellington (The Nightmare Before Christmas) - if there's one movie I've seen more than Kingsman, more than any other movie I've ever watched, it's TNBC. Jack is someone who is just... tired. He's so tired. He's tired, he's bored, he's done with everything, and everyone around him. He's lost his drive, his spark, his reason for being. He's the embodiment of depression. People like to give this movie a lot of flak, and I get it, but it's a simple movie with a simple story, and it's this one guy trying to validate his reason for being. And along the way, he loses a little bit more of himself. He doesn't even see that it's happening, but the ones closest to him? Zero and Sally, they try to help him see, they try to bring him back, but Jack's so blinded by this new shiny thing that he can't see that he's losing more than just himself. It's not until it's too late, until he's put himself and Zero into harm's way that he finally realizes that he needs to better himself, for himself, for his friends, and for his town. He learns to recognize he's in a depressive spiral and resolves to do better, to be better, and see what he's had all along.

Some runners up include: Frodo Baggins, Samwise Gamgee, Jim Hawkins, Danny Fenton, Vlad Masters, Pitch Black, Jack Frost, Dipper Pines, Stan Pines, Hiccup Haddock, Seto Kaiba, Garrus Vakarian.

5 tags: @creamsodaprince @gilly-moon @ashgunnywolf @bunnimew @dennyz-backroom

[kookiecrumb]

jjk|| Your Head

"tags": @kazthebrekkerofinej

word count: uhhhh

summary: Jungkook is the heir to the throne of your Kingdom! In this tale of duty versus heart, will love prevail victorious?

tags: Royalty!Jungkook x Peasant!Reader, oneshot, smut, fluff, slight angst, some crack, pining, forbidden lovers, Jungkookie has a sweet tooth, strangers to friends to lovers

warnings: explicit language, impact play, birthday sex (technically), fingering, oral (m receiving*), love marking, alcohol consumption, s&m themes, horny grinding, praise kink/body worship

a/n:

hey guys!

Firstly, I want to say how proud I am of myself for growing so much during this fic. I learned a lot about what I'm comfortable with, what I'd like to work on, and where my confidences lie.

I won't lie and say it's been easy, because writing this meant dealing with a lot of my fears? I'm excited for all the works that are to come.

The only thing I can do is be as receptive to growth as possible, so I'm looking forward to learning...

*I actually learned that Vaseline wasn't invented until like the 1870s? The fic is written in the 1810s, so I actually had a choice between having them do it with vegetable oil or spit. Spit won.

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5 years ago

You bend over to pick up an apple that had rolled over under your father's produce cart, praying that it isn't bruised so that you have to pay for it out of your dinner, when a crumpled piece of paper hits you in the ass.

Confused, you crawl out from under the stand and unwrap the paper.

The paper itself is of the finest quality you've ever seen. It's a sturdy cardstock, bleached white with gold etchings on the borders. The print on the top of it reads "His Highness Jeon's Royal Study," and scribbled in some kid's amateur cursive below, "Nice butt."

You directed your gaze upwards, towards the towering castle walls. Sure enough, a boy no older than 15 had his noggin popping out from the top of the rampart, with two wide eyes staring down, curious as to your reaction. This was Prince Jungkook, heir to the throne of your kingdom.

"Shouldn't you be equestrian horse riding or playing polo or something?" You shout. He furrows his eyebrows, apparently offended at your assumption, and then disappears behind the edifice.

Moments later, another paper hits your shoulder as you're practicing your caligraphy behind your cart. It lands between the apples, so you reach your hand over and fish out out.

You glance up at the anticipant, and sure enough he's there with his doe eyes and his coconut head, ogling.

"No, dumbie. That's at MID-day." Well how were YOU supposed to know the royal schedule of the crown prince, it wasn't just common knowlegde you learned from being a humble farmer's daught--

Ah!

"Will you STOP?!" You put your foot down. "Unless you're here to buy my apples, then you're not getting ANY, little Prince." Oh, shit. You gave him ideas. Now it was really over for you.

In less than half an hour, half a company of men arrived at the marketplace, asking about your little old apple stand, and sure enough, Jungkook had bought out the entire cart so that you were forced to help with the transaction.

The young prince had eyes frankly too big for his head, with the most prominent cupid's bow you've ever seen. His nose slightly outgrew his face and his ears were hidden away behind his short, black hair. "Now you can talk to me." He gave you a rose he'd stolen from the royal garden. "I am Jungkook, heir to the throne of--"

"I know who you are." You interrupt him, documenting His Highness' total in your calligraphy book.

With a hand perched on his chest from surprise, he scoffed. "And I happen to think you're really pretty, so I was going to ask you to be my very first consor--"

"You're 15, you have playmates not consorts."

"And how old are you?!" He's had it, raising his voice and taking a bite out of one of your apples with force.

"16, old enough to have suitors." You tease. Jungkook hangs his head a little. He just needed someone to talk to, it would seem. Reluctantly, you scribbled down your address down on a piece of note paper and handed it to him.

"Look, if you buy more of my apples, I'll have an excuse to tell my Dad so I can hang out with you." You spoke in a low voice as to not raise suspicion.

Your dad is standing negotiating with the guards about prices, his usual embarassing haggling gruffly overpowering the guards elegant twiddle-tones.

"Wonderful! See you soon, my sweet!" He resumes his confident demeanor, tucking the paper into his overcoat with a small smile. He salutes you boyishly and marches away with a year's supply of apples.

For the next week, the royal kitchen had baked 3 apple pies, made 5 fruit salads, 4 batches of apple muffins, and threw the rest of them in Sangria; that's the same Sangria as King Jeon finds himself drinking in his wife's drawing room on Sunday.

"Call Chef, fetch him up here." He waves to his assistant, keeping his eyes on the outside. He was deep in thought, his hands stoicly behind his back.

The Kingdom had been prosperous for over many years now, and war had not come close to threatening its borders in a lifetime. Negotiations were always successful, and quality of living was high. The work of a King, in a situation such as this, was to perfect the image of the royal family as strong rulers, and to paint his daughters as desirable to foreign heirs.

"Your Grace," the assistant called his attention, "Head Chef Sung." The dainty man bows and scurries off somewhere else.

Chef Sung is a portly man, who carries himself heaving with every step, his great belly inflating with each hefty inhale. He approaches the King, and kneels down to kiss his hand with his fat lips.

The King recoils in disgust, but quickly collects himself and his words. "Where are these apples from, is it France or Spain?" He demands.

"Neither, Your Highness." Mr.Sung lifts up his eyes. "They are from our Holy Kingdom; by order of Prince Jungkook, an entire cart was purchased of these apples and we have not been able to get rid of them." Tears threatened Chef Sungs eyes at the very mention of the fruit.

'Well, there's one thing the kid's done right.' King Jeon now faces the Chef, setting down his drink on a mahogany table, leaning against it casually. "Well! Good. I'd like to meet the owner of that cart, invite him to my Sunday brunch."

"Oh, yes, of course sir! You'll never see them in our kitchen aga--What?" Chef Sung takes out his handkerchief, waving it around in the air and drying his tears at once. "So you like them! Why...Yes! Yes, of course!"

Your father thought it would be valuable to have you around the kitchen, learning from the skilled men and women employed by the Jeon family. He only visited once a week to drop off fresh produce, (he'd been officially hired to handle restocking of goods) but you, after showing promising signs of being a gifted baker during one of your father's restocks, were granted scholarship by Ms.Kang to be her aid.

You were now, officially, a resident of the Jeon Estate, residing in the servant's quarters, immediately adjacent to the kitchen. This was convenient. It was far too convenient for a certain little Prince to get the idea of wanting a midnight snack and wandering downstairs.

One day, he does just that. He finds his way into the first bedroom to the right of the stairs facing the kitchen, and that happens to be your bedroom.

He pokes you awake. "Ow! Ow, whyyy~" You whine and toss yourself over to the other side of the bed. His irritating poking persists. You grab his fingers and your eyes shatter open.

You sit up, alarmed. "You could have me arrested, what the fuck are you doing?!"

"I wanted a midnight snack! Besides, I wanna talk to you." He pouts, still holding a small teddy companion.

"Fine. I'll bake you ONE sheet of cookies." You slip on your night shoes and shuffle to the kitchen, and Jungkook tags along.

By the time Jungkook's 18th birthday comes around, he's in the kitchen helping you whisk buttercream to top his cake while having a tease at the Austrian Princess' mole.

"You have one right under your lip, look!" You take a little buttercream from the bowl and stain the dark spot with it.

He licks it up and hastens to add, "it needs more sugar, lady!" as he turns to grab a puffy bag of confection sugar.

"You're impossible to please." Snatching the sugar away from him, you smirk. "You can gobble down as many sweets as you want when the ball commences. Remember, this is the year you're supposed to be keeping your eye out for a girl of a good fam--"

"Yada yada, must have hips for childbearing, yada yada yada..." He mocks the speech his mother had told him that morning when he got dressed.

"Exactly." You set your bowl aside to fix Jungkook's tie. "Yes, and that's your duty, as our heir."

You step back and examine Jungkook one more time. He'd grown so tall in the last year, his legs like spider's and he was just beginning to grow into his features. Handsome boy.

You, too, had grown into an elegant young woman. You had a poised complexion, ready-mannered and graceful. Your hands seemed out of place in your otherwise feminine frame, carrying an extra bit of girth from baking. You were 19 years old.

Marriage was becoming an uncomfortably frequent topic during your visits home, as your mother had married young, herself, she expected the same of you.

Truth be told, there were plenty of offers for your hand. You were a skilled and very esteemed individual, who had broken into thr artisinal class. But your father knew better than put a dowry on your happiness. So long as you worked, he saw no reason to marry you off just yet.

"Now, go. Your sisters must be worried sick! Go out there." You shoo him, pushing him out the door of the kitchen despite his flailing arms.

Throughout the party, you'd been carrying a platter of your own baked goods, serving them to the aristocrats attending the Princes' coming-of-age ball. Accents from all over Europe and some from Kingdoms as far East as Cyprus jubilantly engaged in artful conversation which filled the air with good spirits.

Jungkook, himself, was busy being introduced to as many women as possible, a medley of presenting duchesses, ladies, and even Princesses of your Kingdom. They were each more qualified than you'll ever be, ten-fold.

One was a Greek Princess, her hair cascaded in darling curls down her shoulders and her eyes were deep-set, her voice a flirtatious trill.

Another, a Prussian Princess', posture radiated excellency, and whose complexion sparkled like powdered snow. Jungkook greeted her warmly, pleased with her appearance.

Distracted, you tripped up your skirt and dropped the remainder of your pastries. With that, you stepped off to use the restroom.

The sound of Strauss' Rosen aus dem Süden faintly loomed in the air as you wiped tears from your waterline in the mirror. That was just the way it was, wasn't it? Princes come of age, and they find wives who they commit their lives to.

"Married men don't have friends who are girls." You say out loud, just to realize it. Jungkook was now expected to find a mate within the season, and he was, in fact, quite the eligible bachelor.

Little did you know that Jungkook had been keeping an eye out for you throughout the party, not only because you were carrying his favorite Danish pastires, but because he knew your company was his greatest comfort.

He's in the midst of greeting the Duchess of Kent when he excuses himself to go look for you. He finds your mess first, frowning as he realizes something has gone terribly wrong.

He catches you in the hallway, face puffy and shaky. He grabs your wrist to keep you from darting back to the kitchen.

"Please don't do this, it's my birthday, y/n." It's as if an unspoken rule had been broken between you, and he feels it. Something is making you uncomfortable. "Was it the girls? You told me about this, it's my duty to at least greet them and--"

"Yeah, you sure did greet the Prussian woman nicely." You speak through tears. "She's the girl you were born to be with, huh? Your birthright?"Jungkook is silent. "Every girl at that ball wants to be your wife, want to have your children. They haven't known you for a day and yet they're ready to be your bride."

You search Jungkook's eyes for any sign of coherence, hoping that he would defend against you, that he would speak up and tell you otherwise. No such argument comes.

You yank your arm from his grip and march to the kitchen to remake the pastries you spilled.

You had the job of clearing off all the tables upon the departure of the last guests. It is midnight, and the windows of the castle stream moonlight down on the carpet beneath your feet. The glow of candles soothe you as you hum the waltzes which echo in your mind. It's a brilliant evening.

The centerpieces of the tables were gardenias, lush rose-like flowers with yellow pistils.

Summer, 1809

"Jungkook, wait! You're going to make me trip!" You shout from the top of the hill.

"You've gotta come see before the sun sets! It's the only way we'll get there on time, now run!" Jungkook's speeding down the terrain towards the Sycamore tree which grew deep and wide beneath the banks of a great rushing river.

You groan and throw caution to the wind, rolling down the steep mount in your Sunday dress. Jungkook turns to watch you, a grin spreading across his handsome face. "Look at you!"

You land on your feet at the bottom and scurry off to join Jungkook under the grandfather tree, out of breath entirely. "Now, look what you made me do. You're such a boy, you know that?! Making me come out here just to see some bloody--"

Jungkook has plucked a gardenia and placed it behind your ear. "Would you shut up? We got here on time. Behold."

In all its glory, the sun bathes you in its vivacious rays, creating a feeling of heavenly bliss as it dips below the horizon. The sky blushes pink, its clouds mere whisps above you. Wind rustles the leaves of the grand tree, rousing the birds to chirp their afternoon song.

"Mom used to come here all the time with my Dad, because of these." Jungkook clasped the blooming flower in his tender hands.

After a while, he says "the bugs will come out soon, so we ought to go back," as if he's trying not to scare something away. He helps you up, and with one last look across the valley, you walk next to each other back to the East Quarters.

You take all the silverware and plates by the tub to the dish-washing station and toss all of the linen napkins into the washing machine. All you had left was to blow out the lights in leading upstairs.

"Prince! It is very late, and there are no guests left for you to entertain. What troubles you?" Jungkook's sitting on the stairs with his head in his hands, still wearing his best suit.

"I disappointed you, y/n...I didn't like any of them." He admits, lifting his head up to sulk at you. "I should have told you then, but I didn't want to make you upset!"

Did Jungkook mistake your jealousy for disappointment?

"I'm not upset because you didn't hit it off with the girls..." You sigh. A confession is due, and he's ready to hear the truth from you about how you feel about him.

"Well, the truth is, I didn't like any of the girls because I like you, y/n. But you know that, don't you?" You pause, asking him to elaborate.

"Remember when I bought all the apples because I wanted to be with you? Like...I told you that you were my consort and I kind of meant it?" He felt pathetic now, realizing that you weren't just ignoring his advances. "So you didn't friendzone me for 2 years, you actually didn't know that I liked you."

It was almost laughable, a situation you would read in one of your illegal novels which you kept tucked away in your pillow at night. "No, Kookie, I didn't." You admit to your insolence.

You can't bear to lead him on any longer. You needed to put duty over your own self interest for the sake of the kingdom, even if it shattered his hope. It was better this way.

"But, you do know that we can't ever be a thing, right? It's just silly." Your heart tightens with the words which fall out of your mouth. "It is. Nevermind what your parents would think, what would it do for your image? You're on the world's stage, Jungkook, and you're a selfish person if you think you can just throw all of your duties away to date a scum of the Earth like-- like me!" With your heart in your throat, dry your eyes with your sleeve. "And...I want to, I really really want to, more than anything else to love you, Jungkook. I love you! I...can't." Through the blur of your tears, the shapeless blob that Jungkook has become stands up.

Taking his thumb and swiping it under your eyes, he sighs. Words escaping him, he takes your trembling body against his chest and nestles his head in the crook of your neck. Your cold hands travel underneath his overcoat to hold his waist. The Princes' lips plant a gentle kiss on your neck, chaste yet deep and satisfying.

"I will not accept any bride if not you, my love." He draws back, meeting your fervid gaze. "To the world, I remain a bachelor for a few years."

"And after those years, Jungkook?" You ride your hands up to caress the man's jaw. "You will still love me after those years, and then what?"

"I don't know," he says, voice as soft as powder. "I don't know many things, y/n, that's why I need you to teach me." His palms are rubbing at your waist, beckoning you closer.

His breath quickening as you lean your body against his hold, and you figure it must be the wine he drank to calm his nerves. That was it, wasn't it? He was drunk.

"You're not drunk, are you?" Your face sours, really hoping it's not the case as you feel your body temperature rise.

"Y/N, I've only had a glass. You saw I was a wreck back there." His lips kept chasing yours in a dance you can't quite describe. "I have wanted to hold you like this since I saw you selling apples on the street. Give me the honor..." His forehead against yours and his strong hands supporting your back, he's already fucking you with his eyes.

"The pleasure of being your lover." He squeezes your waist tight with his forearms, planting brisk kisses behind your ear and breathing in your scent. He smiles against you. Your skin pebbles at his affectionate touch, purring softly as your eyes roll back in delight.

"Kookie..." You breathe, leaning on his broad chest. "Kook, the maids are wondering where I am, I have to go..." You slur, tugging at his collar.

He grunts in protest, taking your ear between his teeth and nibbling it.

"If you let me go, I'll steal some cake for you tomorrow at breakfast." If there's anything Jungkook likes more than Cream Ice, it was cake. He unravels you from his arms and nods, his eyes softening.

"Request my service tomorrow, from Ms.Kang. She's been sweet on me lately." You peck his cheek before stepping back. Your rouge has embarrassingly stained His Grace's cheek.

Jungkook bows and presses a kiss on your hand, eyes rising to meet yours. "Til' morrow, babe."

Jiyoo shakes you awake the next morning, handing you a cake and a note that reads: "Prince Jungkook has a commission he must discuss with you. Meet him at his chamber immediately."

Lacing on a simple corset over your nightgown, you try not to look too red in the face as you climb up the stairs to His Majesty's room. You'd be up there alone, as requested. The girls would absolutely start rumors based on that alone-- rumors which you realize are probably totally true. This was stuff of scandal, after all...

'There shouldn't be anything scandalous about love.' You decide as you rap on His Highness' door.

"Please enter...but only if you have my cake!" Jungkook says in his morning voice. He's so cute.

The simplicity of Jungkook's abode takes you by surprise. His bedroom is very well lit, a capital display of the flowered valley through his bay windows washed the room in gold, painting his porcelain white carpets and his cotton sheets a warm creme color. His drawers and vanity were etched in gold, with breathtaking detailing.

The Monarch himself was splayed across the bed, laying on his side casually. He held a glass in his hand, holding a white wine. He puts down his glass and sits up as your presence.

"We both know that you didn't come here as my servant." You lock the door behind you. "And I have no such commission to give you, darling." The innocence which undertones his usual speech is missing as he coaxes you towards him.

"This much I know, Your Majesty," You say, taking a bit of frosting on your index finger and smudging it on the Princes lips. His black eyes, as cunning as a viper, watch you dangerously as you push two fingers past his plush lips. He wraps his hands around your wrist and draws your hand away, his gaze fixating on you.

"Set the cake down." At his command, you carefully place the confection down on a nearby chest, feeling Jungkook's eyes on you, drawing you back towards his grip.

"Let me pull your laces apart," with your waist held by his Herculean hand, he hums "and then let me pull you apart. I want to memorize your pleasures and gratify your desires, I need it, y/n..." Your back flush against his chest and your thighs split, his hands knead into you as he litters your collar with his mark.

You gasp softly against the crook of his neck, giving into his hold of you. His hot tongue spreads under your jaw, closing into a hard kiss as his hands travel back up to undo your corset and free your tits.

One by one, his fingers pop open the buttons left on your gown until the collar hangs off-shoulder to expose your collarbone. At the sight of new skin, Jungkook's tongue darts to stain it.

His hands stagger above your breasts. "Is it okay if I touch you here?"

"Oh, Kookie, touch me everywhere~" Your hands form fists around Jungkook's shirt, beckoning him impossibly closer.

Grasping one ever so carefully, his thumb grazes your bud as he playfully bites under your ear. "ah-- ahh,"

Jungkook groans in response, he can't believe how cute you sound. Curious, he wants to hear more, so he traces your thighs and experimentally pushes up the outside your cunt.

You squirm, tensing up immediately in response. You bring your hands down to find the latch on his trousers and dip your hands below to rub him through his undergarments. He heatedly bucks up to meet your touch, a panting mess.

You face him now as he watches you ride his fingers while you grip his girth through his clothes. He takes you by the ass and places you on his prominent bulge, hips rolling into you as he hungrily kisses you, his firm hands grinding your core on his cock.

His face is a sinful red, panting under you desperately.

"I've been wanting to do this," His voice warbles through your touch, running your thumb along his underside. It's his turn to gasp. He sits up and collapses his lips into yours, softer than rose petals and his taste faintly like wine.

You place your hand on his chest, and his heart is pounding, a thin layer of sweat already forming on his honeylike complexion.

Hastily, you pull your dress over your head and lean back to allow him to familiarize himself with your stark form, a dainty chain hanging between your bosom. Jungkook bites his lips as he wriggles out of his clothing, desposing of it beside the bed.

He's giddy behind those sultry eyes, you know him well enough that he's overexcited to get inside of you. It goes straight to his cock, your playfulness as you feel up his bare shoulders and discover his abdominals, your fingers tracing his ridges with a sense of innocent wonder.

He takes your hands and looks at you in this way-- Butterflies fill your stomach instantly. Jungkook's thumbing at your pout with his intrepid fingers.

His eyes flutter when grip his base and submerge your upper body below his hips. You lick a long, thick stripe up his underside, causing his breath to hitch and his head to fall back on to the bed.

Those goddamn cupid's bow lips of his would whisper the dirtiest things under his breath, lewd thoughts that sounded completely alien coming from His Majesty's mouth, he said for you.

"Oh, such a pretty mouth~ It's so good, y/n, you swallow me so good--" he moaned like a mantra, trying to keep his hips from snapping up into you. Your hot, wet tongue wrapped around his throbbing cock was only a fantasy to him for years.

He fills your throat with his girth, his taste tantalizingly smooth. It leaves your mouth with a 'pop.' You struggle to keep your legs apart as you crawl up to kiss him.

He takes those fingers of his and slides his index and middle into you and languidly thrusts them, smirking against your lips. "Shit, you liked that, hmm..."

"Kookie...please," you whine as he squeezes your ass hard before smacking it. You yelp, the sting of his fingers radiating from your skin.

"I like it when you beg, y/n, it's so cute..." He pulls your ass up to his thighs. He's flush hard against your abdomen, already sticky with his precum and your spit. You marvel at the self control he has.

You don't finish your thought before he has his head inside of you, impaling you on his cock and stretching your entrance, hissing at how incredible it felt to have you around him.

His shaft reached pleasure points within you had yet to discover. You clench, feeling his tip brush against your cervix. "Wh... hngh," he groans, "how did you do that, do it again--" You wrap your legs around his thighs and clench around him, biting your lip. You watch as he shivers from pleasure, feeling his skin horripilate under your touch.

His thumb is softly circling above your clit as he pulls out of you carefully. He swirls back in, nestling himself inside your heat, hissing. "Ahh~ Jungkook~!" At the sound of his first name moaned out of your mouth, he groans and rolls his hips up to create messy friction. That familiar knot in your stomach tingles as he plays with the bundle of nerves buried within you.

He glances up at your ruined lips, clashing with them again as he lifts your knees up with his hands and thrusts nice and rough, making you yell with every jolt of his cock. The smell and sound of sex fills the room as he experiments with positions, laying you on all fours.

"Get your ass up for me." You obey, ever servile. You're reminded-- you're his servant. He owns your work, he owns your services, and now he wants you in the most lucrative way, he wants your soaked cunt around his imperial cock. He gets what he wants.

Jungkook's palms smack against your ass one more time, just to watch the way it jiggles for him. He smirks a little before he shoves himself into your pretty little cunt. You bury your face into the pillows in pelasure as he chases your orgasm with vigor, fingering your clitoris while you move your hips back to meet his hard thrusts.

You whine like a harlot, his cock allowing you every satisfaction as he works a head-spinning orgasm out of that cunt. "I'm gonna cum, Kookie~!" you warn as you spasm against his length, moans ripping from your throat as you coat him with your thick juices.

His hips stutter up and he just barely pulls himself completely from you as he paints your back white, a guttural groan escaping his mouth.

After a while of loud panting and scattered giggling, Jungkook reaches over for a wet cloth and cleans the both of you gingerly. You trail your hands up to caress his jaw and kiss his lips softly.

"You need to tell everyone that I had a long and extensive request for the Harvest party, that I wanted a lot of fall fruits and vegetables featured in the baked goods, make it as specific as possible and make sure that you mention that I want to meet with you again, over dinner." His labored breathing punctuate his words, as youd kisses consume him. "And..."

"And?" You cock an eyebrow, simpering.

"Doyouthinkmaybeyoucouldbringmesomemilktogowithmycake?" He mumbles, eyes glued on the bed.

"What?" (If you give a Kookie a Cookie...)

Disgruntled, he sighs and repeats: "Milk! Milk for my cake. I know it's moist cause you made it but I'm really thirsty, especially after..." His cheeks flush a cute pink. You wait for him to continue just to fluster him a little more. "Y/N, just please!" You can't ever refuse his pouty face.

Next week, Jungkook's got you pinned against the hallway wall, making out with you hungrily as his hands ride up your dress. Just across the hall, his Dad is negotiating war with Portugal over land in the West.

The next month, you have his cock buried in your throat underneath the table at an important conference about how to create jobs.

All this while the pressure for Jungkook to find a bride continues to rise as he reaches seniority, and as his father's grey hairs pronounce themselves.

Warm touches are always hidden away to the public eye, but often shared between two kindred spirits underneath the man in the moon's watchful eye. Jungkook, as he reaches his maturity, grows strong. His jaw sharpens, and his eyes darken. His hair grows long, and he gains weight. Now at the proud age of 20, Jungkook had become a man before everyone's eyes, including the eyes of foreign monarchs and their eligible bachelorettes.

One day, you're serving the Royal family at a private dinner, when the topic of marriage comes up for the first time since his birthday.

"Your mother has made friends with the mother of the Austrian Princess, and she's invited you to the cordial ball to introduce yourself to the Princess. An allyship with Austria would prove advantageous for our relations with France, so you are to make your best impression." The King wipes his mouth. Setting his fork down, he continues: "It is in the family's best interest for you to marry her, if the French Princess, Anastasie, does not present this season or the next." The Queen holds the King's hand firmly, reassuring him from his shoulder. She wears a slight frown on her face, her eyes worrisome, somber. The King hides his anxiety, as he's been accustomed to from decades of responsibility. Would this be the face of Jungkook soon?

For now, Jungkook's face is scrunching at the thought of marrying Anastasie. She's not the most delightful young woman, her imprudence ruined her enjoyment of any event. She couldn't keep an intuitive conversation about regional politics and domestic policy for the life of her. Her people were on the brink of overthrowing the aristocracy, he was sure of it.

"Yes, father," is what you hear from him before you disappear down the stairs to fetch desserts.

Jiyoo interrupts your quest for sweets with a letter, signed by His Grace. She has a naturally innocent demeanor, her cheeks rosy and her frame as delicate as a feather. "Y/N, you have another special request from His Majesty...can I ask you why you get so many of these?" She looks genuinely curious, not a single menacing thought behind those eyes.

"It's because the Prince really really loves his cake." I mean, technically it was true. Jungkook never passed up an opportunity to squeeze, smack, or dig his fingernails into your ass during your sessions.

"Oh." Jiyoo pouts. "So it's not because you're like, in love or anything?" Her eyes are glued to the floor. You were expecting this question eventually, as the other girls in the kitchen were already suspecting it. It was only a matter of time before word slipped into the girl's ears.

"As much as I enjoy the Prince's interest in my baking, it isn't my place to confess any sort of feeling for him." Your answer is straightforward enough, so Jiyoo nods and hands you the letter. Another request.

Outside the Palace, Winter came like the wind. Lakes froze over, and couples tied up their skates and danced on the ice. The trees were bare and brown, not a single leaf persisting through the chilling breath of Jack Frost.

Jungkook had left for the Winter Palace, to volunteer and raise spirits up in the North. As heir to the throne, he was to be Commander in Chief of the Royal Armed Forces, and therefore needed to undergo intensive training in order to boost morale.

You're back home, and in your wake is your father, who has now grown tangibly tired. He's been on a strict diet of warm vegetable soup for about three months, now. His eyes are sunken, but he still wears a subtle smile even during his most trying days.

Match girls make their rounds at night, you watch as the lamplighters illuminate the streets with their tall ladders and their taller peacoats. Shop windows glow warm shades of yellow and creme; inscriptions on the glass create shadows on the white snow.

"Wow. It's almost as cold as the King's heart out here." You step outside one day with a cup of tea, sneaking in a cheeky smirk. Yeah, good one.

"I heard that!" You turn towards the little voice. A child, maybe about 9 or 10 years old is pointing at you. You squint at it.

"Well, it's true..." You mumble. You have a bit of change in your pocket, so you walk towards a stand to buy a hot bun and a paper.

"Chilly today, hon...Best you take this on the house." The tenant hands you a steaming cake wrapped in a simple cloth and your paper. You stick the paper in your dress pocket and take back your change. You nod a 'thank you.'

You spill the contents of your pockets on the dining table and snatch the paper, snapping it open. Your eyes eagerly skim the headline: "Prince Jungkook Fires Up Royal Army." Below is an article detailing the happenings of His Majesty. All of it sounded very intense, the running, strategizing, first aid training...Was there anything Prince Jeon couldn't nail on the first try?

You set the paper down and pick up your now lukewarm tea. In the back of your mind you're coping with the fact that the Spring Solstice is next week, and that marks the beginning of Jungkook's last season as a Prince.

The King is ill with tuberculosis, and recovery is unlikely. If Jungkook is to marry, it is next season and that was final.

Sitting at the window of his Winter Castle study, Jungkook plays with a ring nestled between his fingers. He looks out onto the lake, as if he's trying to reach you with his gaze. His heart is tight knowing that it would be the season he chooses his bride. Actually, he'd already made up his mind long ago. If his duty was to marry, there was no way to evade such a responsibility. He had to fulfill it, despite his anxieties.

He straightens up and walks out of the hollow room with a firm step.

You awaken with the sound of horse's hooves thudding against the Earth. It is yet to be dawn, and in the distance, thunder roars mightily.

A figure wearing a long, black hood hoists itself off of the animal, tying it to a nearby post. It walks towards an obscure entrance, unknown to many staff.

Intrigued, you wrap a blanket around yourself and peek out at the stranger. His fingers are shorter than his palms, and that's when he tosses of his hood, his eyes set on you. "Y/N..."

You're bewildered by his guise, questions filling your head.

"I was horny, so I left camp" He sits down at the counter, catapulting a cookie into his mouth.

You roll your eyes. "And the guards let you?! Jungkook!" You whisper-yelled at him, readjusting your makeshift blanket-dress.

"Obviously not!" He puffed out his chest with pride. "I bribed them," he smirks.

"You're insufferable," you scoff, your eyes wandering down to observe his physique. His shirt is anything but conservative, highlighting the muscle he'd earned through laborious, sweat-inducing drills. You can feel his eyes on your face as you observe him.

"You can't hide it either," he crosses his arms. "You're standing in the kitchen with a blanket around your naked body." He flicks his tongue. He steps forward, putting a finger under your jaw so you're looking him in the eye.

Your eyes fill with lust as he speaks over your lips. "Look at yourself..." A crash is heard in the other room.

Jungkook's head darts up and in a flash, he disappears into the night.

'Fuck.' You gather your dress from the floor and shuffle back to your chamber.

The first event of the season commences with the most exaltant of spirits as friends of old greet each other with youthful smiles. Juicy exposés, enticing tales, and thoughtful greetings are exchanged in the most formal manner, and the conversation is lively; the most controversial topic of conversation, however, is the rumor that Jungkook is to marry this season.

So far, he's been to four different private residences within his own Kingdom and has been invited, by the secretary of King Louis XVII to meet their daughter. It would be an understatement to say that stakes were high for the pending King.

You were kneading your dough a little too hard thinking about it. "Not so rough, y/n!" Ms.Kang snatches the mixture from your hands. "What is up with you lately, you're so tense! It's really disrupting the kitchen's dynamic."

You shrug it off. "It's going to be hard sedating Anastasie's sweet tooth, I suppose."

"Well, you seem to be doing just fine dealing with Jungkook's addiction to cakes...She's perfect for him, really." Ms.Kang throws more flour on your kneading table and steps off. You give up on the dough, covering it with a cloth and letting it rise.

Jungkook is tapping his feet, munching on finger sandwiches as he waits on you to make an appearance.

"Dearest Prince, look, I am wearing Mediterranean violet!" A duchess shouts as she passes by him, to which he raises his eyebrows at. Another, with dark green eyes approaches and begins speaking rapidly in French at him. Frightened and undereducated, his canned response was: "Excusez-moi, Pouvez-vous répéter plus lentement s'il vous plaît," to which the duchess furrows her eyebrows before something else catches her attention, elsewhere.

Truth is, Jungkook is incredibly shaken at the thought of announcing his engagement tonight. Well, that and the fact that you had yet to pop out of the kitchen. Man, those finger sandwiches were good.

As the night progresses, Jungkook realizes that if he doesn't get up on that platform and say what he needed to say, he'd have to say it in London. Setting his fears aside, he plants himself on top of the orchestral stage and taps a champagne glass with a cheese fork. The music comes to a stop.

With conviction, he begins: "The time has come that I announce my engagement. To all of my beloved friends, who have introduced me to the most beautiful, talented, diverse, and benevolent ladies I've come to get to know over the years, I thank you from the depths of my soul." He swallows and continues, his confident voice masking his trembling. "The life of a Prince is defined by the virtues presented to him at birth. Those virtues are: duty, responsibility, grace, kindness, mercy and integrity." Here comes the part, oh shit.

"I am abdicating my throne to my Cousin, the Duke of Namseong."

Silence sweeps the room. You poke your head out to see what was going on.

"...to marry the love of my life, y/n." He points at you. Your face is cherry red, and you find yourself dropping those same Danish fucking pastries all over the carpet.

"Shit," you fall on your knees, plucking them from the ground one by one. You don't know whether to run as fast as you can or to present yourself, but your body seems to be currently doing the latter. You go along with it.

Jungkook takes your hand tenderly on the stage. "I am unable to perform my duties as King, and therefore am ineligible for the throne." His touch gives you the will to continue beside him. You feel the pure fear rushing through your love's veins, and he knows that this is the hardest thing he'll ever have to do, yet he stands by his announcement.

So, if Jungkook doesn't get to be King of this World, he at least will forever be the King of Your Heart.

But all this, of course...is all in Your, dear reader, Head.

~

a/n:

hope you enjoyed.

[blackberry-gingham]

Jealousy, Jealousy | Wolverine x Fem!Reader

<... Prev | Chpt 3 | Next...>

Logan has a moment of introspection, not at all proud of the kind of man has he become. You on the other hand, continue to find worse and worse luck.

tag list: @samatedeansbroccoli @smokeywhalee @mickeyperkins @the-goon-tm @tolovaj (Wolverine tag list open to additions or reductions, whichever you prefer lol)

tags: slow burn, still on my bullshit with dad bod stuff, except THIS TIME we have a confident big guy, well "big" in as much as wolverine can be described as such, emotional hurt/comfort

---

Clang!

...Clang?

You nearly drop your half a music stand to the ground. That's nowhere near the sound you'd expect from metal to skull contact. Logan is out cold for now, giving you just enough time to take in the damage.

Your first clue was the shattered window in the back. The next one was the tearing and pounding sounds coming from the room over.

Your carpet is ruined. Your furniture is all but destroyed. Shit... You're getting evicted for sure.

Fuck fuck fuck! This guy is insane!

So many questions... All of them racing through your head at one.

What the hell is this guy on?, comes to mind for one. How did he find this place? And how did he manage all this? You look around some more. No weapons. No other guys.

Everything looks like it had a sword taken to it...

Logan groans and rubs his head. You look down and just barely catch it- Three long blades retract into his knuckles.

Mutant.

Your eyes go wide. Screaming would do you no good, besides... You're too petrified for much of any reaction at all right now. You drop your metal rod with a proper clang.

Sure you may not be that strong... but there's no way he should be coming to this fast.

Logan whips around at the sound. You back away slowly, ready to bolt. Well this isn't how he wanted to do things, but... He'll take it.

You don't make it far at all before he tackles you to the ground. Your back gives a little pop as it realigns from the force he jumps you with. He feels painfully heavy against your body, way more so then should be possible for something his size.

Holy shit, is this guy made of metal?

The thought crosses your mind briefly, but is soon washed away with fear and pain of another kind. Logan grips your arms roughly and flips you over with an inhuman growl.

"Let's make this easy... Who are you working for!"

"What? You know whe-!"

Logan shakes you roughly by the collar, "I said who!", He leans in menacingly, nose to nose with you, "Striker? Xavier?"

You try to shove him back, but he hardly budges, "Who? What the fuck are you talki-"

His patience has officially run out.

Wolverine snarls and unsheathes his claws a hair's breadth from your cheek, "Don't make me ask you again!"

You wriggle uncomfortably at the threat, but nothing can loosen you from his grip. Fuck, you can't even lift him off you. It crosses your mind that maybe you could lie. Is there something you could tell him that he wants to hear?

But... This doesn't seem like that type of situation.

"Look, I really don't know, alright!"

Logan growls low, but doesn't say anything. He gives you a sniff. After so many years of fighting and interrogating... He's learned what a lie smells like.

He licks his teeth and sheaths his claws. As much as he doesn't want to believe it...

Smells like you're telling the truth.

You're... You're telling...

The truth.

Stupefied, he lets you go slowly and sits up, glowering down at you all the while.

Fuck...

He's fucked up big time now.

You don't know anything. You're just a normal person... And he's betrayed his identity as a mutant to you. Worse then that, he's needlessly threatened you on top of it. Shit... Xavier would have his ass for this.

Fuck!

Without wasting another word, Logan clumsily launches off of you and sprints away.

You stay flat on your back. What... The fuck... Your head is so muddled with adrenaline and confusion... It feels like the room is spinning.

What do you do now?

This place is trashed beyond repair. Hell, might as well terminate your lease now. Not to mention there's a mutant on the loose around here. One that knows who you are and where you live.

With that revelation... Maybe getting out of here would be for the best.

You slowly turn over to lay on your stomach, burying your face in your arms.

Shit... This is bad.

You never understood all the hatred for mutants. Surely they're just like everyone else, right? Now, you're not so sure. Maybe that's not fair of you, but... That was one hell of a first meeting with one.

Little bastard destroyed the only home you could land, and is now effectively forcing you to get the hell out of this town.

Fuck... You don't even have time for a two week's notice. That, and- Well. You need the money from another paycheck, to be honest.

You heave a sigh and pick yourself up slowly. Looks like you'll be back to living out of your car.

The drive from town to home isn't all that long. Maybe he'd have been back sooner if he wasn't so busy trying to clear his head.

Logan jumps out into the snow. Pacing and growling, he kicks a pile of the icy powder and sends it flying. Fuck, he doesn't know what to think... He paces once, then twice more and turns in a tight circle before taking a seat in the packed down snow.

A little barrier of the stuff surrounds him. He folds his arms on top of his knees and rests his chin. Outside is always a good place for thinkin', especially way out here with nothing around.

For the first time in a long time, he takes a long, deep breath. In.... Out....

God... How did he even get here? How did he let things go this far?

He admits, patience has never been his strong suit. His skills at reasoning.... Also weakness. Two of many things the professor was trying to help him work on.

Now look at him.

Haunted by paranoia, chasing enemies that aren't there. Hell, he just terrorized and attacked an innocent woman. In her own home, too.

Logan shakes out his head aggressively.

What the hell is wrong with him? He's never been this bad before... Maybe he's been giving in too much.

Too much fighting. Too much fucking around. Too much doing whatever the hell he wants.

He may be sick of fighting the X-Men's wars but... At least that place forced him to have some structure. Some integrity.

And now? What's become of him now... Now that he has just a little freedom for himself?

He ain't gotta look far.

Don't think it escapes him, the way he has to arch his back a little to get his chin to his knees.

Don't think he doesn't notice how he's gotta angle his legs apart to make room for his stomach.

It don't bother him much, but...

Don't think he's forgotten how he used to be, neither.

Back when he had shit to do. Back when he had people to push him to be better. Back when he gave a fuck.

He hunches his shoulders at that. Damn…. Is that true? Has he really given up that bad?

It’s hard being like this, you know. Just… being the way that he is.

So full of anger and no way to vent it out. It builds and builds and builds… And all it leaves him with are these insatiable urges. To hurt. To fight. To kill. How easy would it be, to just let it all go…

No more temperance. No more discipline. No more heroes…

It would be so easy. He could be like Sabretooth. A fucking monster… but free.

Logan heaves a deep sigh and lays back against the snowy bank. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine a life like that. Running wild, like the other ferals. Doing whatever he wants. Going whenever he wants. Hell, taking whatever he wants.

He furrows his brow for a moment, then shakes his head. Shit… He can’t do it. Can't even picture it.

Doesn't want to.

Maybe there’s a little part of him that clings to the professors idealism, and all the bullshit and integrity he’s had instilled into him...

Maybe he figures, he’s gotta stand for something in this fucked up world… might as well be the right cause.

But then, maybe…

There’s that tiny voice, buried so deep down he hasn’t got a clue where it’s coming from. It’s the part of him that let him latch onto the X-Men and what they stand for in the first place, he supposes. The small part of him that just wants…

Acceptance.

To fit in.

To mean something, anything, to anyone at all.

All his life… his long, long, fucking life- He’s been on his own. Bounce around from town to town. Go somewhere new where no one ever knows his name. Live on the edge of nowhere, just to have a little bit of freedom to be himself.

His real self.

Logan brings up a hand, watching all the whole as he flexes a fist. Snikt.

He stares at those claws… His face growing tighter and tighter as his thoughts build.

Would it be so bad for him to be who he is? An average man with above average abilities? He ain’t askin’ much… Just a little bit of rest. A little bit of peace. Some company.

No more fighting. No more enemies. No more fear…

His eyes narrow. The sky seems so bright.

The other guys got it good, you know. Scott. Remy. Charles. Bobby…. It would be so easy for them to turn it all off. Put aside the mutant shit. Integrate with the humans.

Not him.

Even the humans got it good. Sure, it’s shit being caught in the mutant crossfire, but… It’s not always that bad.

It’s normal.

It’s fulfilling.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted…

Why can’t he have that huh? Be normal? Happy? Have a good, boring life and live and die with the people he loves just like everyone else?

Is that too much to ask? Is that so fucking ha-

Logan screws his eyes shut, the light finally getting to him. A small wet droplet threatens the corner of his eye. Fuck… He wipes it away and jumps up out of the snow.

Thinking too much… He shakes his head out, and then his body, freeing himself of the snow before he stomps inside.

He needs a drink.

You pack the last of your belongings and wrestle them into your car. Now you've got a massive fee for damages and no explanation in your defense. Damn.

At least you're all set up in time for your shift tonight.

Even with the hustle and noise of work, your mind is trapped elsewhere. You should never have left home to begin with. How stupid can you be? This was never going to work, even back then you suspected as much.

You drag your feet all night long.

All you have to do is make enough to pay off your remaining debts and get a little something to hold you over so you can leave. If only you had a clue how long that would be... As much as you'd love to quit right now, even just put in a two week notice-

You don't think it'll be quite that fast.

Right now, you just have to hope you never see that mutant again. Even the thought of him makes your blood boil. The fucker ruined your life and fledgling reputation around here... Didn't even get a chance to set anchor.

It's almost funny. You never thought leaving town over one person was a real thing before now.

With all the thoughts and fears running through his head, it's not for a few days yet until Logan comes back to town. Try as he might like to stay out of your path... He can't resist the allure of his favorite place. Especially when he's feeling this low.

The sight of your car outside is nearly enough to make him think twice.

Shit... Well. Maybe he'll get lucky. In and out. Maybe you won't see him.

Although... That was assuming he didn't see you first.

"Fuck off!", You smack away the hands of an unwelcome patron. It's been a long night of serving drinks, not different then all the rest, but... You've never had a bad experience with the drunks before.

Logan smells the alcohol seeping out of the guy even from there. He watches you strut off. You exclaim that you quit. This place was always a little too rough anyway.

The big guy isn't having it.

He grabs your wrist. You wrench away and blast past the man, Logan, and the door, all in a few angry seconds. It's not much longer at all that the drunk follows you out, shouting and taunting some obscenities.

Logan's seen this one before... Not a pretty picture. The drink can wait. He tails the two of you outside.

No claws no claws no claws....

"Hey! Why don't you leave the girl alone bub?"

The bigger man turns for a moment, but clearly doesn't take much threat, "Why don't you go back inside, eh?"

Logan stomps his way over as the agitator turns back around to you... followed silently by a group of watchers.

He grabs him by the wrist, the wrist that was heading for your person, and jerks him around.

"I'm not known for my patience", Logan growls, "And I sure as hell don't ask twice", he punches a fist into his palm.

Crack!

The other man throws a punch across Logan's jaw. His head snaps to the side. Didn't hurt. A great drunken roar goes up from nearby. Looks like the asshole has friends.

"Get lost runt! I saw her first"

They all laugh.

Cheap shots huh? His favorite.

All it takes is one punch... And the whole scene ignites.

You run, just far enough to get out of dodge. Meanwhile, a whole calamity befalls your little mutant friend. A small gang of men twice his size lay into him.

Ain't a problem... Or, it wouldn't be if he popped his claws.

He's not gonna let em hurt ya'... But he can't give away his identity neither.

The fight goes on for longer then you'd like. Logan gets in a lot of good shots... But the bigger guys are either too drunk or too tough to care all that much. Just when things look bad, they get worse. The little mutant is overwhelmed.

They stomp him into the snow. Pound his head and face and bones to a pulp. The ice turns red with blood. And when they're done with him, all nearly just as bloodied and beaten... They turn to you.

The leader wipes a stream of blood off his lips. He looks at you a long time... Then, "Forget it... The bitch ain't worth it"

"Here, have your little rat back", one of the others kicks Logan across the snow. He rolls over twice and stops pathetically.

When they're gone... You can breathe again.

Logan grunts, just a few feet away. Damn, he looks bad... You inch closer.

You haven't forgotten what he did, but... You're not going to ignore what he's just done for you either. He struggles for a moment, then drops back down, inciting you to come the rest of the way over.

Carefully, you brush some hair out of his face, just to get a better look. Your hand comes back wet with blood. Shit...

You look down at him. And over to your car.

Wouldn't it be easier to just... Leave? This isn't your problem, after all.

You look back down at the little mutant. Shit.

"Can we get some help out here!", you stay by his side and call back towards the bar.

[raibebe]

Take me Anywhere

Holy fucking shit guys, 5k. I cannot believe it. I have anxiously watched this number grow closer and closer to this huge milestone over the past few weeks and I still cannot fathom that there are so many of you... Thank you so much to every single one of you who has ever interacted with me or my posts. To everyone who has ever reblogged a fic and left a little comment or even sent me an ask to tell me that you liked a certain fic or character or to simply scream with me about Jeno. I don't think you realize how these little messages can make my day and I love how much I've been able to interact with you in the past year instead of simply screaming into the void 😂 A special little thanks goes out to all the friends I made along the way, you all mean the world to me and I am so glad I can call you my friends. 🥰 I don't need to tag you, I know you smiled a little bit when you read this and it applied to you 💕

So to give back a little bit, we're doing another small drabble game:

Here are the rules - this time we are doing places - it can be anything from "beach" to "bed", "car", "Seoul", "practice room" or even some fantastical places as long as I know it of course - I'll be writing for all the NCT members but no smut for anyone born after Jaemin, I might be considering suggestive for Chenle but we'll see - please consult my rules before requesting to see what I am comfortable with - to request you have to at least send me the member + a place through my asks if you want to, you can add a genre as well - as always I am reserving the right to not write every single request if there are too many or one makes me uncomfortable

I don't know when I'll start posting but I'll be accepting requests probably up until a week from now!

Again. Thank you all so much for your support, you make my stay on this platform that much more enjoyable 🤍

[etherealluminescence]

op, p l e a s e do this one.

gn-mc is a great fighter according to their profile, but everyone severely underestimates them, since they’re kinda short and they’re thinking it’s to human standards. as soon as they come though the three (Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer) realise that the number of fights have gone down, and that RAD is a lot more quiet. Apparently mc had fought all the trouble makers or scary students on a whim, and has forced like 30+ scary demons into pacts, and plans to conquer RAD’s bad students. on top of that, they’re just like “one day i’ll beat the shit out of diavolo too fair and square, and conquer him as well.” for the brothers and undateables. bonus if mc said they only started their “conquest” because someone tried to bully Luke, so they decided to just conquer the demons for him like a good? older sibling

Holy shit OP this is what I signed up for when I started doing headcanons. Recently I’ve been working on my actual novel but I am still writing these out! I decided to answer this first because the creativity just HIT me.

The part that killed me is just how they did it for luke, I love him like my own son. Also side note the goth theme on tumblr hits different I really like. WARNING - a little bit of language, and violence.

Everyone reacting to GN!MC “conquering” RAD’s demons

Lucifer

He had chosen you and noticed your profile, thinking that is was almost cute humans would consider a tiny thing like you strong.

He immediately brushed you off when he saw how close you were to the chihuahua, thinking that you too, are just like a tiny chihuahua then.

But he soon hears less and less about fights going around, and even Diavolo investigates with him, and he is beyond shocked. He severely underestimated you.

He finds out because he forced some lesser demons to talk, and they were in tears saying you forced them to make a pact with you each time they lose, and by your order they weren’t allowed to fight students anymore, or else you’d punish them.

Although it was the truth he didn’t quite believe it, so they followed you around for a day before realising it absolutely was, you kicked ass so hard, the demon was crying and unrecognisable, and you forced him into a pact while snot was even coming out his nose.

He then sees you open the door behind you and take Luke’s hand before walking away from the bloody scene you had just caused. He was slightly angry and a bit intimidated, how did you, a tiny human do that?

When he confronted you about it, you just held onto his shoulders tightly, answering with “I’ll conquer you too, I’ll conquer Diavolo, I’ll conquer all of RAD, fucker. I am going to protect this child with my life.”

He was about to argue back, possibly attack you, but according to all the students investigated, you had well over 50 pact marks by now, and Diavolo found it amusing, so you were let off with that.

He swears he won’t submit to you, and has to stay on high defense because even at the HOL you will try to attack him with murderous intent to get the pact. 0/10, wants a new exchange students.

Mammon

He was the first one you made a pact with, and afterwards he started following you around like a dog, despite literally calling Luke a dog.

He knew you were a good fighter since you kept saying so, but he kept telling you demons were another level, and you should be glad to have him.

You and Luke hung around a lot, while Mammon thirdwheeled, and finally came the day of your first fight. Mammon was ready to defend you, but you ordered him to sit as you beat the literal fuck out of the demon.

Mammon couldn’t tell if that was a lesser demon or a dismembered corpse at that point, and covered Luke due to all of their screaming in agony. When you were done, you kicked their head into a wall and demanded a pact, making him slightly pouty but happy he’s alive:

Getting the pact, you left and gave a head pat to both Luke and Mammon, telling them that they’re safe with you. Mammon didn’t like it at first but then he loved it.

It didn’t take Lucifer long to find out, and when you told him with such confidence that you’d “conquer all of RAD, including Diavolo” he was like woah!! You’re going to die for that, but you’re amazing!!

And then you didn’t die, because Diavolo found it funny, and you were only serving justice to those who cause mayhem at the moment, so it was fine. He also accidentally finds out that you rival Lucifer in power, and absolutely won’t let Lucifer punish him, because in your words, “Mammon is my property now, whore.”

You were the only person to protect him, and he absolutely loves you, he may be weaker than you, but he loves staying by your side and saying he’d beat people up for you anyways.

Leviathan

Levi never really talked to you at first, nor found out about the incidents because he didn’t go to school, but when he heard Mammon talking about it he thought he was exaggerating a lot.

Even Lucifer said you were strong, but he refused to believe it at first, even denying the pact marks you had. Until you beat the life out of Levi during the TSL games.

He got angry at you and tried to kill you, so you ripped him apart, quite aggressively. He swore his tail had bite marks in them, and that he couldn’t see out of his left eye for a week. The icing on top was you demanding a pact from him. He finally believed.

After you calmed, he made a pact with you, and was now afraid of you, until you comforted and apologized to him, telling him he did try to kill you first.

When Luke comes over one day, you invite him into Levi’s room, no permission, and start to talk, and when Levi tries to make fun of him, Mammon shuts his mouth.

“Luke is the whole reason they decided to start their conquest, the whole school knows that by now!” Mammon shushed him, and Levi began feeling a little jealous that the chihuahua got more of your attention than him. But when he hears that you ALSO want to conquer Diavolo, he’s just like !?!!??? You’re crazy.

But more than that you’re like some over powered anime protagonist who got sucked into a different world with over powered plot armor, Levi thought, and he really liked it.

Begs you to come with him when he’s trying to buy stuff in lines, so anyone who tries to cut gets the life beat out of them when they do.

Satan

Absolutely member #2 of your fan boy club, Diavolo being the first one in it.

He thinks oh yeah, you can fight sure. But when he witnesses it he absolutely loses his mind. A human shouldn’t be that strong, but the way you force a pact mark from them, and even defended the tiny chihuahua before leaving, while being tiny yourself, he was interested in how your body worked.

But what really excited him and made him like you is when Lucifer entered the room and you sent a flying kick to him, putting up a harsh fight as well, before you break the table when you were knocked into it, calling it a tie.

“I swear one day I’ll conquer you and force you to make a pact with me. I’ll wipe that smug look off your face, fucker. And once I do that, I’ll beat the shit out of your prince, too.” You spat, getting up and holding your back.

So now you went from protecting the chihuahua to devildom domination? Basically asks you to make a pact with him so you can use him to fight Lucifer. When you tell him you want a fair fight, and that you’ll beat Lucifer yourself, he’s just so excited because you held your own for five minutes, and Lucifer can’t even kill you!

Literally tags along each time you decided to fight Lucifer and cheers you on so hard. Will purposely try to make you and Lucifer run into each other at the halls, so you automatically try to hurt him.

Please tell him not to eat so much popcorn, we know the show is good but it’s like he has boxes of them now knowing you’re hating? on Lucifer like him.

Asmodeous

Has absolutely freaked out and began cowering in a corner, shaking, begging you anywhere but the face.

He came to watch the show of you beating up a demon, not realizing it was you at first. When he did, he was so shocked and got closer to make sure.

You mistook him for the demon’s crew who made fun of look and tried to attack, seeing red. He held his own for a minute, before you almost rip off his wing in one swing.

He’s begging for forgiveness like the demons, despite not doing anything wrong at all. When you calm and realize it’s just human, you make the other demons unrecognizable and get your pacts, before making your way to him.

He’s just crying not his face, while you just say “Pact mark.” Pointing out you won fair and square against him, too.

He gives it too you beyond willingly, just not his face, he doesn’t even think twice. Nodding, you take Luke’s hand and leave.

He has to leave too for then next class, but then sees Lucifer, Diavolo, and Barbatos confront you.

Is afraid for you but then you literally punch Lucifer and tell him you’ll conquer him, and then turn to Diavolo and declare his ass as your own, making Asmo secretly swoon but worried.

Actively tried to avoid you while at the HOL for awhile, but noticing your docile nature when you’re not fighting, he felt a little comfortable with you, and right now his only concern is how many callouses your hands are getting from punching thick skulls.

Beelzebub

This man wanted to believe you when you said you were a strong fighter in passing conversation with him, but he just couldn’t. You were the tiniest creature he’d ever seen, and he was so sure you’d crush under one of his hugs.

He heard you were protecting Luke from the whispers of lesser demons, but he didn’t think it was through fighting.

This all changes when on his way to practice, he watches you beat up one of his teammates so hard they’re crying, they’re so huge, and yet lost to you, and the fact you sent him flying and cracked a wall, by one kick.

When you said you wanted a pact mark, he was shocked the rumors were true. On top of that, Luke was near by holding a cake he planned to give Beel as thanks for something he did for him earlier that week.

He watched you wipe the blood off your hand and pat Luke’s head, with a gentle smile. When he came in, Luke ran to him and gave him the cake, and he learned everything.

You were the one subduing the demons around here, big or small, and even protected Luke. He even learned that you challenge three totally strong demons, Lucifer, Barbatos, and Diavolo.

He totally believed you could do it now, with what he just witnessed. He’s seen his fair share of fights with egotistical demons thinking they’re so tough just because they play sports, and he’s seen guys at the gym, you were beyond that.

You had speed, strength, and great perception. Wasn’t even mad that practice was delayed, and began going to the gym with you, and will happily play with Luke too, another older sibling figure for Luke.

Belphegor

When he exited the attic and tried to kill you he watch his brothers grab popcorn from the sidelines, as they said to him enjoy dying.

He was confused at first, but then got the LIVING HELL beat out of him, oh how the turns have tabled. He intended to murder you, but you nearly killed him.

You forced a pact out of him as well, kicking him repeatedly where the sun doesn’t shine until he agreed, understanding why even Lucifer stood back. It’s not because they wanted you dead, it’s because they couldn’t stop you.

When he gains consciousness later, he finds out Lucifer is the only brother you haven’t made a pact with, and that you have over 80 pacts at this rate, and that you even planned to conquer Diavolo.

He thought it was stupid at first but after seeing you fight Lucifer, with no cheats just your normal hands for combat, while Lucifer was in demon form struggling, he understood he really liked you.

“Soooo... when are you beating the shit out of Diavolo?” He asks, and he also nearly makes the mistake of calling Luke a dog before Beel puts a hand over his mouth.

Jaw nearly drops and he loses his mind when he finds out you only started beating the shit out of people to make Luke happy.

Diavolo

This man just fucking cackles, like after watching you fight, he’s just in full tears from laughing. He’s just clapping, and telling you that’s amazing.

When Lucifer asked why you did it, you stood tall despite your short stature, and looked him in the eye with no fear. “I’ll beat each fucker who approached Luke, I’m going to defend him with all my fists got, and if you get in my way, I’ll do the same to you.” You said, before turning to Diavolo.

You walked up to him, and pulled his tie down so he could meet your eyes, and declared, “I’ll even beat the shit out of and conquer you too, one day, prince. I’ll be the ruler of this place one day. Prepare yourself for that day, until then, I won’t stop:”

This makes him laugh, not belittling you, but telling you he can’t wait, and he hopes that day comes soon, because he wants to fight you as well, and he hopes you hold nothing back against him.

He loves how strong you are, he loves how you want to protect Luke, he loves that you only did it to protect, and didn’t even bother to summon a demon, you did it with your own style. That took guts, confidence, and the fact you told him of all people with that confidence you would one day conquer him, his heart fluttered.

He would definitely start watching over you, and probably fan boy over you. The first person to ever force the prince of the Devildom to lower himself; and they even declared they would be the one to make him their’s, by forming a pact mark. It was honestly amazing to him, and he likes it.

Barbatos

He really should of seen this coming, a new fighting student, who was clinging to Luke protectively, and suddenly all the bad demons were being silenced.

Guess there’s no need for his torture chamber anymore, you’re much more feral than whatever he does, he just needs to sick you on them.

Joking aside, he doesn’t really take it too seriously. It’s great you can get a lot of pacts, and defend yourself, and even want to conquer Diavolo by forcing him to give you a pact mark, but he knows you’re still no match for him yet.

To get to Diavolo, you’d need to beat him up, and he’s a bit of a harder fight than Lucifer, by that he means a lot, he won’t even flinch if you bite his tail when he grabs you by it and puts you out the room, with a smile on his face.

It’s become a game at this point for the both of you to try and fight each other, you trying hard to get a pact mark out of him. He even offered it to you at one point, but you told him you wanted to win it fair and square, and he’s just in love with you even more because of that.

He’s pretty much a dad to Luke, so he appreciates how kind you are to him, and appreciates how you have your own set of morals for fighting, making him know that if Diavolo were to ever make a pact mark with you, it would all be fine.

Solomon

“Hey... are you sure you’re not actually the demon?” Solomon asks you, looking at the sheer amount of pact marks on your body, one week after coming to the devildom.

He’s seriously impressed by you, considering how easily you beat up demons without any weapons, magic, or underhanded tactics. You simply use your fists and legs, sometimes your head, but you get the job done scarily.

He’s even more impressed when he finds out the reason, you were visiting purgatory hall and Luke was being rather loud. “I can’t believe that’s the 7th demon this week that fought with you! You’re just so cool, you’re so strong! Thank you for protecting me!”

Probably wants to try to enhance your strength with a potion, and offers it to you when you try to have your epic showdown with Diavolo, claiming he is the boss and Barbatos and Lucifer were his right hand men who dragged Luke into this mess.

You decline though, wanting it to be fair and square. Truly admires yet fears you. But then again, i don’t think you stabbing him would making him afraid of you. I don’t think this man can feel it at all, unless it was you dying.

Anyways, he’s delighted to ask the demons you make pacts with to make pacts with him as well.

Simeon

Nearly loses his mind at first. He’s so concerned if you’re hurt,, but then he’s just like wait what.

Luke had told Simeon all about it when he reached purgatory hall, about how you beat up a demon for him, and even promised to always protect him. Simeon is really distraught you may of been hurt protecting Luke while he was busy.

But then Luke tells him about how you forced a pact mark out of the demon, and you didn’t even break a sweat, and that is was the coolest.

He doesn’t tell Diavolo about this thinking it was just a one time thing, and tries to watch over you two more. But then he sees you and he’s literally just frozen.

Humans aren’t that powerful right? And when Lucifer Diavolo finally confronts you about it, he watches as you just stare him down and declare that you’re going to conquer him as well, to make Luke feel happy and safe in devildom.

Needless to say Simeon is extremely panicked about your well-being, but extremely happy Luke is protected by someone so kind to him. Probably doesn’t approve of the violence, but Luke adores you.

Luke

The first time you met him you told him not to worry about the demons, because if they ever bullied him you would beat the life out of them.

He thought you were just saying that, and he said that he too would protect you, which you found extremely adorable and nearly went “I’m taking this kid home with me and he’s my child now.” not that anyone could physically stop you.

He found out you were actually sincere about it when the two of you were alone in RAD’s hallway, trying to leave for purgatory hall since he invited you over.

You two were stopped by a demon, who tried picking a fight on easy prey, and it was quite frankly, the worst mistake of his life, ever.

You beat the LIVING SHIT out of him, and even told Luke to look away, because this man was beyond recognisable, because you were so small you could easily duck and move fast, so the demon didn’t even land one hit on you.

Just because he’s a demon, doesn’t mean his stamina is forever you figured, and beat him up, forcing him to make a pact with you. You had one with Mammon already, so you knew how it worked, especially knew you could have multiple due to Solomon.

When it was over, you told Luke he could look, and there was zero damage to you and he was just like woah!! You’re so cool! And from then on you stuck close to him, literally demolishing any demon he thought looked scary, or just stared at him for too long.

When Diavolo comforted you about it, you stared him dead in the eyes saying “I would literally beat the shit out of you for Luke, so you better hope he starts liking the devildom soon, fucker.”

Diavolo laughed and Luke insisted you didn’t have to go that far, but you just patted his head and said it was okay.

[sugar-petals]

sub!Yuzu | nsfw alphabet

🌹 NOTE ⇢ content for our fave figure skater, the legend himself. mr. yuzuru hanyu is 1000% dom candy and i’m here to honor it at length ⛸

— WORDS. 5k

tags + warnings. dom/sub dynamics, femdom!reader, role reversal hc, smut, kinks, cum play, spanking, sex toys, very freaky yuzu, kitten play, mdlb, crying kink, food play, prostate orgasms, bondage, some deeper stuff & angsty bits, asthma mention, aftercare

  A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Once the cat ears come off, who is Yuzuru Hanyu not to remain in character for a while. For the shits and giggles, and because it’s cozy. Once a catboy, always a catboy, it’s the law of the land. Curling up, kneading at you for the head pats and massages, you know the programme. 

Also: Yuzu is famously soft-spoken and always finds the right thing to say. So, stimulating conversation for the cooldown. This is literally so nice. He’s unafraid to reflect everything in detail, say what he preferred, what you could change up together, what he wants to try next. The afterglow is not just physical, as in you give him something to drink, it’s 70% verbal which is very important to him as a consistent habit.

Of course, not to forget: Always gotta have a Winnie Pooh plushie ready. He embraces it readily and, as we know him, does some roleplay right then and there. Yuzu, professional cutiepie he is, is the kinda sub who treats all plush and pillow stuff as alive and breathing. You as his domme are in on the play and also treat his things as holy as they are to him. That Yuzu lets you into that world is the biggest compliment you can possibly get. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

We all know Yuzu’s godly ass and thighs. Or the staggering waist and beautiful black hair that makes him a total bombshell in his classic comb-back styles. His face is soft and expressive and so damn unique, his legs muscular and long, his back and tummy chiseled, the list goes on and on. Jesus, he has so many great features. All body parts a masterpiece. That are all capable of god-tier contortionism on top of that, gotta mention it in passing. Just so you know if you haven’t seen him bend his every limb into directions you wouldn’t believe are humanly possible. 

Interestingly though. If he chooses, Yuzu picks his feet: They are his most important instrument and weak spot. His ankles are where the magic happens. So, you taking care of them a little would mean the world to him, imagine a candle light massage. Not to worry, no-gross-alert. Yuzu has perfect and cute feet. That’s gonna be a Victorian moment, oh my god I saw his ankles. For his partner, short and simple: He likes a shoulder to lean on. He loves being touchy in general, all body parts are amazing to him. Being in a profession that’s all about the physics, Yuzuru knows about the wonders of the body.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Certified king of cumsluts, doesn’t even hesitate. The more, the merrier. If he’s not covered in sticky stuff, Yuzu would be underchallenged. It’s less about the taste, texture or any degradation, for him it’s the playing around with his tongue. Somebody wants his mouth preoccupied. Give the cat his milk. Feed him his own cum mixed with yours. He’s gonna lap at it and swallow.

Since Yuzu’s dream is a mommy domme baking him something, he just loves the smell of dough and hazelnuts and cinnamon and everything — you know what’s coming: Imagine the food play. Nuts indeed. Anything that even remotely looks like a creampie is something he wants to get his lips on. And Yuzu is not the type to be a foodie at all, let that sink in. Sexual-looking food is just too big a temptation, though. And you spoiling him that way... oh my. Surefire way to end up in bed right after. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has a butt plug collection. Once almost went on the ice with one in. The more you know. Also— this guy is the kinda type fantasizing to get absolutely railed on a bed of plushies. He has troubles suggesting it to you because he doesn’t want them to get actually dirty. But the idea gets the two of you kind of horny. Sometimes, a thought is better as a fantasy than actually executing it. You can use it for riling up’s sake, whispering it to him during dirty talk. How you’ll bounce on him and ruin him and milk him while he’s splayed out so innocently on your bed. I smell corruption kink. 

Another secret Yuzu keeps is just how much he changed his mind about wanting his partner to control everything in bed. He grew up with a pre-defined ideal type of a cute, nice skater girl who’d let the reins very loosely around him, who he can speak Japanese to because he had problems with English, who is small and someone he will protect. It wasn’t something based on experience and trying things out: It was simply expected of him. People wanted the domineering Yuzuru on ice to be that way in private, and make use of his power, be a man, savior, boss. 

The reality being: He never felt truly as tough on the ice, nor was he gender-conforming in person. In fact, that is what he became famous for, and it reassured Yuzuru very often how people would accept and actually celebrate this side of him. Which is so refreshing, and a sight to see. The side that was dorky, clingy, childish, gorgeous, and cute has always been there, but now he embraces it more as his comfort place. He has to know what he’s doing in his skating programme and show competitive spirit to achieve his dreams, but that’s where it stops.

His former ideals are something people wanted to hear, it was an adaptation of the environment rather than thinking it through on his own. So, years later — oh boy have things changed. Yuzuru no longer defines his ideal type that way, saying whoever he likes is someone he’d be with. What was a fantasy template and filter is now gone and adapted to his newfound, own preferences. Yuzu is comfortably open-minded rather than being a copy to mainstream. He found fun in speaking English, opened up to the world at large, had more girls around him who he could befriend, grew more confident in his stature, and is well aware — turns out he’s the cute one. Who needs to be taken under a wing. He likes strong-minded girls and says if he had a wife, she’d dominate him. Yuzuru secretly wants her to be in charge entirely, she owns his body and soul. Not in daily life where things are just normal and everyone goes about their business. Sexually, where he surrenders instead, and is taken care of.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

The tale of an introvert. What he knows — he hides it well. Has eyefucked a whole lot of people and is the type to lust like mad from a far distance, and nobody will ever know. Crushes harder than peppercorns in a mill. If he loves someone, it lingers in his mind every split second of the day, may god have mercy on him. And if you know him: Yuzu aims too high to keep it light and easy and clumsy. He hates being an amateur, he’s terrified of starting out something. He dreads not knowing what to do, how exactly to behave, talk, touch, breathe, respond, negotiate, prepare. That’s a hundred percent like hell to him.

Ironically, he has a natural feeling for it and he’s literally amazing in bed, has a sense for social interaction is all the way cute with something valuable to say. But what he believes is something way different. Yuzuru is a diehard, nervous perfectionist. He can only think of it as a rated performance since his mind usually has to work that way to skate well. His esteem is on a knife edge depending on how well he thinks he does. So, the inevitable: He will shy away from sex altogether. He draws immense skating passion from staying celibate, in fact it’s his success secret, but it still eats him up from the inside and makes him frustrated beyond measure. Not even for the pleasure, since he’s so ambitious that’s almost forgotten about, but for being told he did well. 

That’s how much he believes sex is a drill and capability test. And it’s sad that he thinks it’s like his skating career, racking up points for the impossible things judges want and being in a deadlock when it comes to showing his artistic side. He feels thrown into cold water if he doesn’t know everything beforehand. If he ever works up the courage, which probably won’t happen, he will pay an expert to learn from rather than let something all over the place happen with a random person or even someone he might like. 

Yes, you heard that right. He’d rather see a sex worker than ‘mess up’ his first time according to his sky-high standards. So, Yuzu’s experience remains limited since he’s so 100% do or die, and so anxious, and so torn about social interaction, he doesn’t get how his peers can be playboys and get married and flirt with someone they like and all that. He sort of has an easier time with guys, but girls... he can’t approach. To top it off, he also feels like he’d burden his first time one somebody or embarrasses himself, so he will reject and avoid suitors. Those are usually not the people he crushes so hard on to begin with. It’s bound to be one-sided and he knows, so he will abstain and focus on career and use the cheers of his fans as a substitute.

Truth is, he feels helpless and distant from sex sometimes, especially with his practice-heavy lifestyle and hyper-smart mind, Yuzuru has an intelligence that exceeds what most people can grasp. He’s alone on the ice and Brian as a coach is often the only reference person who truly gets him, and leads him well without being controlling. But that’s professional life. Sexually, Yuzuru is metaphorically: coachless. He surely observed it well when Javier (the #1 ladies man, his opposite) was still active and a social butterfly helping him fit in, but Yuzu would always be worried about his extreme fame and spotless image when introduced to someone fangirling over him. He’d rather prefer someone who comes across as a mentor and solid, loyal-to-death person to look up to. So he would do anything to have someone benevolent like that. Most girls would expect him to be the sex god and expert, but he knows that’s only half of the story and based on his characters on the ice. Yuzu crafts these to counterbalance how he really is — withdrawn and indirect. 

Yuzu is extremely calculating and selective, he scans suitors well, protects his reputation, and is mortified of failure. So, he’d rather learn it by the book and from someone he’s not emotionally attached to. In a one-night stand that might also be the case, but he doesn’t know what to expect, and he’s absolutely terrified of sudden sexual vulnerability. He himself often says he values his own struggle between feeling so weak and being strong again 

Besides: He’d have problems squeezing hookups into his schedule and lifestyle, he’d have to cut down on things and create a double life. Plus, Yuzu is famously inept with social interaction up close, he flees the noise and unpredictability. So, it’s better to have a long-term partner. If he doesn’t know something yet, he has it down in one day like the single axel. Definitely counts on his partner teaching him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

We know Yuzu’s signature move is the lean-back Ina Bauer. So, whatever position allows for an arch is the real deal (cough, taking the strap — oh my god his ass is made for it). But anyway, he can pull off anything with that stellar flexibility and core strength. 

If I think about it. Yuzu might like sitting on your lap very much. I know it’s not a sex position, I mean it can be once his inner lapdancer awakens or you use a strap-on, I rather mean... just for some sweet moments and making out. But yeah: Fathom Yuzu gyrating on your like that. Not in an outright lascivious manner or Chippendales style. The Hanyu way, with embellishments and all the grace. This is gonna be a huge turn-on and perfect foreplay position.  

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not much to elaborate here: Yep, Yuzu is true goofball indeed. Really flustered and clumsy when eye-to-eye in missionary, and yet: He’s ultra serious towards the end, there’s gonna be an aggressive staredown before cumming. The feeling gets pretty intense, his duality between silly and ‘yeah, give it to me’ is no joke.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Would probably die from inflammation if he shaved clean under those tight suits and did all these chafe-heavy skating routines. Doesn’t have a lot of body hair to begin with, but for pits and pubes, it’s alive, wild, and decently long. Out of all people, Yuzu cares particularly about aesthetics, but in this case pragmatism will prevail. He doesn’t care too much about it either as long as it doesn’t get in the way of something. Having sex with Yuzu tends to be well um well all about a hundred types of friction so any stubble would be a bad idea.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

You haven’t seen a guy in love like that. It’s a figure skater thing for sure. Since he works to portray these sentiments on the ice daily, hardly anybody can play up feelings so delicately and palpably like Yuzuru. Emotion is what his entire career is built on. He knows how to express himself directly, appropriately, intimately. Couldn’t be any more romantic. Yuzu can’t go without it. 

Very passionate, ‘for your eyes only’ kind of atmosphere. Yes, he shows off on the ice, it’s his job (although of course, that word doesn’t really sum up what skating means to him). But private Yuzu is someone you can claim as yours. He will make it clear, he wants to belong to you, he’s yours, dedicated, devotion is the entire point. Less with a slant of what some subs like, very hands-on ownership of a mistress. It’s more emotional. He’s really attached and all smitten. Your private little haven is everything to him. 

Talking about little: Yuzu can be quite a pillow prince sometimes. At least when the initiative doesn’t go back and forth as it frequently does, you often alternate with suggestions and ways of tweaking an ongoing play session. You blindfold him or tie his wrists, He might be standard tired from practice or just fascinated to watch you work your magic on him. 

He also likes music to set the tone for intimacy, who’s surprised. Prepare: Yuzu likes dramatic classical music all the way. He’s probably one of the few people who can make it more than ‘classy’ and definitely more than cringe. He selects pieces very well. This is gonna be a practice template to cum together when the music reaches its peak. Makes the whole thing full of adrenaline.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Lots of fun to him. Would beat it 24/7 if the ice wasn’t calling him. Drowns himself in lube. This guy’s me-time is so rated R, Cardi B would be inspired to remix WAP to wet ass penis as an anthem just for him. A dry dick is a ruined day for Yuzuru, as is a session without teasing his prostate in whatever way he currently fancies. Once he tried it, he never went back. The intensity knocking him out is something that Yuzu thinks about all the time. Strokes like a pro, does all these little moans, can do it forever, loves the feeling, chases the high. Adrenaline junkie on the ice? No different with his hand around his cock. 

Will masturbate everywhere in the house and has to really get his head in the game to make sure he won’t ruin any carpets. So, he always has at least two towels with him. In the kitchen, in front of the TV, in the shower, the bed. Watches his fair share of eclectic porn, he gets really desperate. Especially before you started dating, Yuzu would shut himself in until the lotion ran out. Can jack off to something romantic (he starts crying) or something extreme (he loves shocking himself and ). 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Very curious about sadomasochism. Googles a lot of things that make him hard during the day. Often jawdropped by his research, but once he tries things out with you, nothing can really shock him anymore. Absolutely wants to be collared, it’s his biggest fantasy. Another little secret he has, Yuzu is decked out in skating gloves, right. He wishes he could feel you wearing them, or he keeps them on for sex himself, the lacey transparent ones. Looks especially pretty when his wrists are tied so, major photograpy material. Oh yes, Yuzu likes the camera, he can work it. The guy is photogenic in any position and can strike any angle you want. Your phone background is a new Yuzu snapshot every week already, imagine your gallery, 5800 kinky pictures.  

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

I’m gonna say it. The frozen lake out of town, late at night, condoms and lube with you. A quickie that will leave your genitals frozen. Yuzu might get stuck inside you because it’s -15 Celsius. Call that fantasy on ice. Jokes aside: Come on, Yuzu is the biggest ever hermit homebody. The couch will have a bunch of indents after your week-long fucking sessions after he comes home training. Also, at his desk while he does work for university. You ride him, Yuzu studies. Double the ambition. His dick is completely sore. The lake out of town thing might go down, but without sex. Just skating together under the stars, Yuzu doing amazing spins and spirals around you, very very romantic.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Yuzu is a crazed Sagittarius. Have you seen these men? They just want it all. Must be the influence of Jupiter. Zeus was definitely vibing that way. And yes, Yuzu has borderline unhealthy gold medal thinking in bed. He wants to be not just good but damn good with pleasing you. If you don’t have a good time and head home without an orgasm, he’ll consider himself a failure. Yuzu won’t cut himself any slack there. You’d have a hard time changing his ways into something more chill and moderate. Instead, you will see the benefits of rolling with it once you see how improvement fuels him and does make sex really mindblowing.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Couldn’t do things like slapping you, spanking. Yuzu makes for a terrible daddy dom, it’d not suit him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Cum-dripping oral mess, Yuzu is the brave kind. Totally into it, and can’t resist a good blowjob. Will act different afterwards, there’s a lot of erotic tension. “This evening again?” is what those eyes are saying.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Outstanding kinesthetic intelligence. Every inch of his body follows his intent, and yours if you have him take on certain ways of kneeling. Yuzu can do it all, whatever you want. Tantalizing, moderato, overwhelmingly fast. He can take it, he can portray it. And knows the value of a pause like a true connoisseur. Not just when he wants to prevent cumming early, also just because the moment is right. That’s why cockwarming is a staple, as well as you having him wait patiently for kisses. To top it off: If you give him a blowjob, building up the tension by doing nothing is damn effective. The ruined orgasms you’re gonna give him... delicious.

Everything’s gonna have nice transitions as well, no awkward climbing and rolling and tangling limbs. If he gets something from another room that you need, no slouching. The university course as good as the extracurricular activities. Being inconsistent with any subsidiary details? Not in the Hanyu household, he’s keeping it classy. Yuzu feels like if he makes the bridges to new positions even remotely messy, the feeling is killed and it’s as if he’d break character mid-skate. Although he’ll have to practice and refine and test a lot of things because he’s not super experienced and adapting to your own movements is an individualized thing to do, he’s a masterclass of quality, period.

Even when things get fast and heated, nothing feels off. Having that kind of body smartness also means: Yuzu learns by touch, whatever you do. He knows by the way you pull his hair what comes next. How much saliva drips off your tongue when you suck at his neck, he knows how hard you’ll to ravage him in five minutes. This guy observes things you aren’t even conscious of because his physical understanding is just so fine-tuned.

The sense of rhythm, and every skating programme of him will showcase that, unbeatable. Unless his mood is really impacted by something severe, your guy feels it in every bone. He’s an artist, after all, he listens to music all the time. Dissecting rhythms to turn them into movement is what his line of work is all about. The pace will always fit the mood. Everything is precise, but never crude. Instead, the way he moves is dictated by an inherent flow. With little accents that match right with any thrust, like putting his hands on your sides when you’re on top of him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Hit it Shakira: Whenever, wherever! He seemingly carries an entire condom factory with him. Or, to be more exact: At least three of them.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

This one’s a complicated case. Yuzu being reckless on the ice may or may not mirror in your private life. He might need some downtime, so bring out the soft domme stuff. No trial and error stuff, just going through a routine of things you love the most. On the other hand, he always gives it all. This guy’s endurance at your hands is amazing. Advanced kinds of BDSM he will not feel deterred from at all. Rough toys, anal hooks, sounding, whips, why not is Yuzu’s motto. But then again. He has such a confusing mix of innocence and feeling like he’s completely hardcore. You might end up experimenting a lot, but also not daring the leap sometimes because the mood is different. And then rather go for softer hours, where Yuzu will be all shy shy and more bursting with excitement than ever. A good, interesting mix is what I’m saying.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Yuzuru, once he gets a bit of practice to gauge the situation... Viagra on two legs, absolute unexpected powerhouse. You might end up pondering to work out a little and go for a run because this guy is in a consistently outstanding shape to say the least. Olympic athletes are literally hard to fuck with. And since Yuzu is starfishing sometimes (which is very adorable), or he’s in bondage for some time, that presents a further problem: For a second round, he’s full of energy, while you already spent energy. So, you alternate with who’s active, and the other leans back entirely. He has to remind himself since his body is programmed for it: This is no contest — the point is feeling good.

You might ride him reverse cowgirl all the way while you watch TV, and after the overstimulation fades he will eat you out ad nauseam, full course slobbering, sweeping the whole menu. That way, it’s less about keeping up with him, which would be hard for most people not doing sports at his galactic level. He understands, Yuzu knows he’s not normal in that regard, you don’t have to worry. Some exercise still doesn’t hurt, just to further increase the quality of sex anyway.

Then again: Why go jogging and do some laps wasting valuable together time when Yuzu’s lap is the best workout? And running doesn’t guarantee your stamina in bed is perfect even if it does help. You rather wanna manage how to draw out the arousal. It’s a self-control thing, with the goal of having you match up in every aspect as good as you can. In which case, you can count on him to pull it off: Have you seen Yuzu doing jumps side by side with a bunch of female skaters? Copy paste. This guy knows how to synchronize with the ladies.

Something that has to be mentioned beside that, though. Yuzu has asthma since 2 years old, and it’s often a mind thing to him still these days. He doesn’t let it stop him from sleeping with you because as always, he’s not letting anything get in his way. He has learned to live and thrive with it. But you both have to mind the possibility of an attack, he prevents it with inhalers, and the mood plays a crucial role. Yuzu being comfortable and confident is so important to his breathing, and keeping a good rhythm rather than being chaotic in bed. So, you will plan most of your sexual activities rather than improvising. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Would stuff an entire sex shop into his every available orifice. Yuzu is a toy freak, he wants to try everything. Motto: a new one every day. Well, almost. But he can afford it. Buys stuff he uses solely on himself, things you use on him, things he uses solo and you use on him, and as the cherry on top, every possible high end vibrator on the market for you. Any size, too. This bitch will browse through the latest innovations, prepare to get off. He’s obsessed with seeing you use it on yourself. Yuzu owns a separate phone just for videos of you buzzing your clit, and him fingering you for minutes and minutes. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Extremely so. Loves to be a total brat only to get put into his place. He does it so you’ll pull the chin grab on him. He likes getting choked out as a punishment as well. Yuzu also tends to be very around the corner if you will when it comes to soft subbing, he lays over expecting cuddles but doesn’t say so. Buds his head against your chest, nuzzles, and so on. Lighter forms of teasing come to him very easily. Loves to prompt. Roughhousing, banter, favorite thing.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Moderately loud because his voice is very very light, but unsurprisingly — he’s just beautiful. What a nice tone. Gorgeous whimpering sounds. And when you go hard on him, voice cracks! And really heavy breathing. What’s gonna be the most striking though is his expressiveness. We know it from the ice and interviews, and he can really amp it up even further. No need for screaming, that face will speak the volumes.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You’ll be blessed with him if you have a huge crying kink. Yuzu definitely opens the waterworks every other week in bed. Happy tears, horny tears, relief tears, aftercare tears, orgasm tears, masochist tears, romantic tears, subspace tears, he has it all. He also begs for the type of pain that makes it stream down his face for minutes. He’s touchy-feely all the way and feels like he can really connect with you that way.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His ass twitching is kind of a spectacle, but I don’t have to tell you, do I. Yuzu has muscles for the gods in there. So voluptuous, you can’t call it any other way. Big booty boyfriend, Jesus you can show him off, he loves it. Around the house, he will flaunt them big ole athlete buns in particular, acting like it’s unintended. Um, Yuzu, those are joggings. Smack it, he is sure to moan. 

And may I respectfully mention as well — this guy has some major big ass balls figuratively and literally. How else would someone be motivated to jump a triple axel like it’s nothing. Not kidding, they’re big and round and ugh. His love for tight pants doesn’t help. He knows what your eyes like and dresses just to flex the goods. Screams for more spanking and pinching if you ask me. Yuzu is definitely serving it. Well-endowed, you lucky girl.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Mega horny, ready when you are. On a scale from zero to hundred? Breaching into the 90 percent right there. Yuzu’s hormones are literally insane. On paper he’s 26, but his dick wants the 18th birthday party. Jesus is he gonna be clingy when he’s in the mood. All wrapped around you in a backhug in the kitchen or when you iron a costume of his, and that’s sexy of him. He’s not gonna hide what’s filling out those sweatpants. He’ll desperately grind up against you like it’s Christmas.

Paired with his puppy eyes and little “Do you have some time... I’ll iron this tomorrow” — instant pounce. He’s admittedly a bit hard to keep up with sometimes, though. The reason: With that level of exercise, he has major pent-up energy. That machine is definitely running. Heavy sports changes your hormones, nervous system, and especially blood flow. Now take that to the scale of his performances and regimens? That equals a firework of horny. No wonder he masturbates all the time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Takes some time. He cools down, sweats it out, chugs water. However, don’t underestimate how tired Yuzu can already be. His daily routines and competitions have a toll on him. Ironically, he’s not a deep sleeper, however. Yuzu might toss and turn and have sudden energy bursts, or ideas, or gets hungry. So, he needs his plushies, he needs a weighted blanket, warm pajamas, a hot cup of his favorite warm drink, a light snack, and you by his side. Spooning him excessively and sometimes even humming to him. Yuzu looks like a certified angel on his pillow, his well-deserved rest from everything is so important, too.

NOTE - hope i could indulge you, thank you for reading!

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