#my life lately is full of me getting to say things I never imagined saying in my life

[rosesutherlandwrites]

…A Sweet Sting Of Salt is an Editor’s Pick with the Historical Novel Society. I saw that they’d reviewed it a couple weeks ago and it was a lovely review but somehow that particular detail got past me so now I’m having a belated ahhhhh whatttt that’s so cool moment

[bunnihearted]

🐰🌧️

[wintrwinchestr]

an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on. 

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression. 

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand. 

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it. 

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state. 

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap. 

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows. 

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you. 

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches. 

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against. 

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can. 

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain. 

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…” 

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is. 

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[lanadelnegan]

Hi I’m kinda shy about this one. So the reader has been traveling with dead city cowboy Negan for awhile and she’s liked him for a long time but she’s a virgin and she wants him to take it.

Don't be shy bb, I am a slutttt for dead city Negan. Basically, think of this as if you were in Ginny's shoes, but you're 18.

Our Little Cabin

Dead City!Negan x Reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, NSFW, virgin reader, vaginal sex, fingering, family death (reader's mom), reader seduces the hell out of negan, extreme age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 50ish), masturbating (both), masturbating in front of Negan while he refuses to touch you, daddy-kink, breeding kink, cuddling, pure filth

A/n: If you like slow burn, sexual tension and a "hard to get" daddy Negan, this one is for you. I promise one day I'll finally write a fic without daddy-kink, but today is not that day.

"Can we go home now, Negan? My legs hurt." I complain, dragging my feet lazily through the leaves.

He stops and sighs, resting his hands on his hips. I stop too and stare at him. That damn cowboy hat.. I swear he wears it just to tease me.. and it's working.

"Yeah, doll. Sun'll be going down soon anyway."

"Ugh thank god." My head falls back dramatically and he chuckles as we start our way back.

Negan took me under his wing a few months ago when some assholes attacked Oceanside, killing my family and everyone I know. I was lucky - if you wanna call it that - enough to escape. I ran into Negan in the woods and it's just been me and him ever since. I'm thankful for him, considering I never had a dad or father figure growing up. My mom was my best friend.. and now she's gone. But at least I have him.

I've grown attached to Negan over the recent months.. But something feels.. different lately. I'm not sure what suddenly changed over the last few weeks, but I've caught myself imagining things about him that I shouldn't. Even touching myself to the thought of him. I feel so guilty afterwards, but I can't stop. I've never been with anyone.. never kissed anyone.. never touched anyone. And my body is screaming at me for it. I can't even look at him anymore without imagining what he looks like under his clothes.

"Why're you so quiet, kid?" He glances at me as we walk.

Ugh, I hate it when he calls me kid.

I shrug. "Just thinkin'."

"About?"

"Doesn't matter." And I've convinced myself it doesn't. I'll never be with someone romantically, because for one.. it's the apocalypse. It's not like I have a school full of hot boys lined up ready to ask me to prom. Not that I'd give them a chance anyway. I'd probably be more into the teachers. And second, the man I want would never think of me that way.

"That's not true."

"You don't even know what I'm thinking, so how can you say that?"

"Anything you think about - worry about - matters to me, y/n. So, spill."

We finally make it back to our little cabin. We've been staying in it for awhile, stocking it with food and supplies. No one has found us yet.. It's kinda nice. But I won't get used to it. Because nothing good lasts forever.

I throw myself on the couch dramatically, as if our walk that we've done a hundred times now could've killed me.

"I don't know... I just, I feel like most kids - people - my age have already experienced more in life that I have."

"Like?"

"Sex." I blurt before I can stop myself. I look to Negan to see his reaction, but he's surprisingly not that alarmed. His eyebrows are raised as he studies me, probably more shocked that I actually had the balls to say that in front of him.

"Listen, I don't really feel comfortable doing the whole birds and bees talk with you."

My cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and I nod disappointedly.

"Sorry, it's just.. I - no one's really talked to me about it before. My mom said she would when I was ready.. but then she.. she.." I fight back the tears. I hate crying. You can't come across weak in the times we live in and I've been forced to be strong my entire life.

He looks at me finally and sighs, holding his arm out for me to come snuggle next to him. It's not the first time he's held me as I've cried over my mom. Won't be the last.

I bury my head in his chest, sniffling, as his hand rubs my back.

"Alright, kid. What do you wanna know?" He gives in, feeling sorry for me.

"Well, I know how it works, but I guess I just wanna know what it feels like." I feel him tense underneath me as he adjusts himself awkwardly.

"No boyfriends at Oceanside?"

"There were boys.. but none that I was interested in."

"You'll find someone when the time is right. You're still young."

"Well you don't have anyone, and you're.. not young."

"Jeez, kid. Thanks." He chuckles. "I did have someone. A few someone's actually. Lost them all to this cruel world." He admits and my heart hurts for him.

"Well, you have me now." I get more comfortable, laying my head in his lap and looking up at him. He shifts uncomfortably but eventually relaxes and even strokes my hair lightly.

"Yeah, I do. And nothing is going to happen to you. You're safe with me, doll." Butterflies swirl around in stomach, but I know he doesn't mean that in the way I wish he did. He sees me as a kid.. hell, as his kid. For a moment my heart sinks from jealously at the "someones" he mentioned. Lucky bitches.

"...Negan.. does it.. feel good?" I blush a little.

"Sex? .....Yeah, doll. It fucking feels good."

"Will you.. show me?" I stare up at him innocently and his hand abruptly stops stroking my hair.

He bends over, planting a kiss on my forehead. "Time for bed, darlin'." He pushes me gently up and off his lap before standing and heading to his room. The cabin is small but we each have our own rooms. His is the smaller one, right across from mine. He wanted me to have the bigger one.

I sit on the couch, feeling defeated and stupid. What was I thinking. I relax on the couch for a little longer, choosing to read a book to take my mind off what just happened. After an hour of barely keeping my eyes open, I close the book and head down the hall towards my room. I stop in front of Negan's door, peaking through the crack. He always leaves his door a few inches open just so he can hear if anything happens. My eyes widen when I notice the sheets are barely covering the lower half of his legs, revealing the rest of his body. His tan torso is exposed, showing his peppery chest hair, and his black boxers are low on his waist. I restrain myself from not jumping him right then.

I eventually make my way back to my room and change out of my clothes, throwing on some shorts and a tank top to sleep in. I can't get the image of Negan's body out of my head and find my hand slowly making its way towards my aching center once I'm finally in bed. I close my eyes, imaging Negan between my legs as I touch myself. I don't bother suppressing my moans, confident that Negan is fully asleep. "Mmm, Negan!" The sound of his name rolling off my tongue as I'm pleasuring myself brings me closer to the edge.

"Oh, Negan. Right there!" My door suddenly swings open and I snap my eyes open to see a worried Negan standing in my doorway.. still in his boxers. My hand flies out of my shorts and I throw the sheets over me.

"Oh my god, can you knock?!"

"I - you yelled for me." He says flustered. I notice the way his face reddens when he realizes what I was doing.

I gently pull the covers off me again and spread my legs a little.

"What are you doing, y/n?" He stands in front of me at the doorway, refusing to look at anything other than my eyes. That's okay.. I bet I can make him look at me down there. I like the challenge.

"What's it look like?" My bite the tip of my finger seductively at him before sliding my shorts to the side, completely revealing my pussy to him.

He glances down with a serious look across his face, like he can't believe I'm doing this. And neither can I. This is so unlike me, but I'm so desperate for him I don't even know how to control myself anymore.

The fact that he's still watching encourages me to continue. I use one hand to pull my shorts to the side and the other to slowly slide a finger through my wet slit. "I just wanna know what it feels like, daddy."

I study him closely, noticing the way his jaw ticks at the nickname. My eyes travel lower and I see his bulge through his boxers. It looks so big, but I'd be determined to make it fit no matter what.

My finger dips inside of me and I arch my back a little and moan, putting on a show for him. He stands with his back against the wall, refusing to move.

I start rubbing my clit slowly and get frustrated when he still isn't reacting. "Negan, please touch me."

He rubs a hand down his face with frustration. "Goddamn it, y/n."

"I just.. I need you. Please." I cringe at my desperate attempt to have him touch me. I need this man so bad it's embarrassing.

"I can't, baby."

"But you like watching me, don't you?"

I take it as a yes when he doesn't say anything and that's all I need before pushing myself over the edge. "Negan!" I cry out as my orgasm rushes through me. Even in the dark, I can see the lust burning through his eyes.

"Go to bed, y/n." He demands but I'm unable to read his tone. Is he mad, proud, annoyed?

I fall asleep at the thought of him giving in and touching me. Maybe if I think hard enough, I'll manifest it.. I heard that shit really works.

Negan's POV:

That girl is gonna be the fucking death of me.

She's been so flirty with me lately and I've been trying to ignore it. But fuck if she's not making it hard. Literally.. I'm hard as a fucking rock right now.

I refuse to touch my dick while thinking about her. She's thirty-fucking-three years younger than me for fuck's sake.

She's confused. She doesn't want me, and she damn sure isn't getting me. Apocalypse or not, it's still fucking wrong.

I drag a hand down my face and sigh. I shouldn't have watched her, but I couldn't look away. She flashed her fucking pussy right in my face and I just stood there.. watching her. Fuck me.

My dick is throbbing and I know I won't be able to sleep until I get some relief. "Fuck it."

I pull myself out of my boxers and immediately start stroking my dick. I think about anything but.. her. Fuck.. y/n. That pretty little wet pussy dripping right in front of me. The way she said my name when she came.

"Ahh, fuuuck. Y/n, fuck." I cum hard and fast and immediately regret it afterwards. Fuck is wrong with me.

I can't - and I won't let myself think about her like that again.

Y/n's POV:

I wake up before Negan and decide to read my book some more in the living room. It's a romance novel that I found one day in an abandoned car. I've read it four times already, but it seems to be the only romance I'll ever get in life, so why the fuck not.

"Morning, sunshine." Negan says sleepily as he walks towards the kitchen next to the living room. He grabs a handful of berries we picked yesterday and tosses them in his mouth before making me a cup full and putting them down next to me.

"Morning. Thanks." I say without looking at him.

He sits on the couch next to me. "You wanna talk about last night?"

My cheeks redden. "Nope."

"Okay, then I will." Great, here comes the lecture. "Y/n, I shouldn't have watched you. We both know that. But, I think you're just confused. It's just been the two of us for months now and you're all young and.. fucking horny and shit. But, us? It can't happen."

I stay silent, pretending to read my book.

"Seriously? The silent treatment? You sure did have a lot to say last night."

I remain stubbornly quiet, popping a handful of berries in my mouth.

"Y/n, I don't understand why you're upset right now. Talk to me."

"I'm not upset." I snap. "I'm embarrassed.. humiliated. I was stupid to think you'd ever be into me."

He sighs and I see his head drop out of the corner of my eye. "Darlin', if I was your age, I'd be all fucking over you. Trust me. Please don't be embarrassed, okay? You are hot as shit and any man your age would be lucky to have you. We can forget it happened if that's what you want." He holds his arm out again, and like always, I snuggle into him.

"I don't want to forget." My hand rests against his white t-shirt and I want so badly to slide underneath it and run my fingers through is tummy hair.

A moment of silence goes by before he finally whispers. "Me neither, doll."

I look up at him, my face dangerously close to his. "I love you, Negan."

His hand reaches up to caress my face as if he's scared to hurt me. "I love you too, baby... Just not like that."

He wipes the tear that falls from my cheek and my heart shatters in my chest.

One month later...

My feelings for Negan haven't faded; I'm just better at not showing them. We've been more touchier than usual... cuddling on the couch, holding hands when we walk, but nothing "inappropriate." We also haven't mentioned that night. It's like it never happened, which still hurts when I think about it.

I get done bathing myself off after dinner and slip into my usual sleepwear before crashing to the bed and pulling my book from the nightstand. I could quote every line in it by now.

I start to drift off right before a loud boom hits right outside my window, following a bright flash of lightning. I try to fall asleep, but every time I doze off, another loud boom jolts me awake. I toss and turn for an hour before deciding to do something I know I shouldn't.

I crack Negan's door open slowly, trying not to wake him and gently slip into bed next to him. I also may or may not have taken my sleep shorts off, leaving me in just my pink panties and black tank top. I ease underneath the covers and lay facing him. He's usually a light sleeper, so between the thunder and me sneaking into his bed, I'm surprised he's not awake.

I'm completely still for a good ten minutes, making sure he's still sound asleep before I make any movements. When he lets out a little snore, I slowly slide the blanket down off of him. I imagine myself reaching over and running my fingers through his thick chest hair. I keep sliding the covers down further and further, careful not to wake him, until I get to just below the waistband of his boxers. My eyes trail from the deep v in his abdomen to the black hairs peaking above his underwear and I let myself imagine what it would be like to touch him right now.. to slide my hand down his boxers and feel him. I've wondered how big he is for so long.. trying to steal glimpses of him through his pants when he walks, or catch him with the covers down while he's sleeping.

I decide to pull the covers slightly further down and my mouth gapes open at the sight. He's hard.. so hard that I can see the outline of him through his boxers as it threatens to poke through his underwear. My mouth waters at his size and I know if he ever put it in me, it would definitely hurt like hell.

After I've stared at it long enough to feel like a total creep, my eyes travel back up his body and I almost yelp when I see his head is slightly turned and his eyes are watching me curiously, as if he's been waiting for me to make a move.

"I - uh.. The thunder.. I got scared." I explain.

"Nice try, kid. Go back to bed."

"Negan, please. Just let me sleep here. Nothing weird, I just.. don't wanna be alone."

He sighs and that alone tells me he's going to let me. I hide my excitement as I turn over, facing away from him and snuggling into the covers. They smell like him.. musk and leather.. and the scent makes me practically feral. He's still on his back, but my ass is barely touching his side. It's hardly anything, and it's not like we haven't cuddled before, but the thought of my ass so close to him sets my insides on fire.

Another lightning strike hits outside his window this time and I flinch a little, not purposely meaning for my ass to press into him even more. He doesn't react and I wonder if he's already asleep.

"Negan...?" I say softly.

"Hm?"

"Will you hold me?"

"Y/n, you are seriously pushing it. Go to sleep."

a few minutes go by before another boom echoes in the distance and I jump a little again.

He sighs heavily and turns over, draping his arm over my waist and pressing his body firmly against mine. His dick is pressed against my ass, but it's not as hard anymore... and that hurts a little.

"Go to fucking sleep."

I hold his hand tightly against my lower stomach and embrace this moment with him. I want him so bad that I can literally feel my vagina throbbing. If it could speak, it would be meowing like a cat in heat right now. I close my eyes and imagine him sliding in me from behind. I get a little too lost in the thought and accidentally arch a little, grinding my ass further into him. I feel him grow to full length against me and the feeling is enough for me to squeeze my legs together, desperate for some pressure down there.

"Where the fuck are your shorts?" He says in a deep and sleepy voice.

I giggle as he breathes heavily into my neck before whispering again.

"What the hell am I gonna do with you, baby?"

"Touch me?"

"I'm already touching you, y/n. My fucking dick is basically between your ass cheeks."

"Not yet.. my panties are in the way." I slip my panties off my legs smoothly and discard them on the floor.

"Y/n." He warns but before he can tell me no, I'm bare from the waist down and pressing my ass back against him.

"Trying to give this old man a heart attack?" He chuckles deeply.

"I can try harder than that if you want me to." I tease.

"Fuck, baby. Go to sleep before I do something we'll both regret."

"Like what?"

"...Like pound that pussy so fucking good you'll never think about another man's cock but mine."

"If you love me, wouldn't you want to be the one to give that to me for the first time? Wouldn't you rather it be you than some asshole who doesn't care about me."

He doesn't answer, so I keep pressing him. I place my hand back on top of his resting against my stomach and slowly slide it lower towards my aching center.

"Don't start something you can't finish, darlin'."

"Oh, I'm very determined to finish." I spread my legs apart slightly to guide his hand over my wet center. His middle finger easily slides between my slippery folds and we both moan at the feeling.

"Goddamn. Fucking dripping for daddy. He growls in my ear before leaning up a little and pressing his lips to my neck from behind. I move my hand from his, letting him take control - finally.

His finger moves back and forth between my wet slit, gliding over my clit every few seconds and making me moan each time. His other hand slips under me and up to my neck, gently squeezing my throat.

"This what you wanted, baby?" He breathes in my ear and chills spread over every inch of my skin.

I nod quickly as I feel my orgasm build from just his light touch. He hasn't even put a finger in me and I'm already on the verge of tears.

As soon as his finger rubs tiny circles over my clit, I lose it.. moaning out for him.

"Thaaat's it, cum for daddy, babygirl."

"Negan!" I scream out as his hand goes from my neck to my mouth, muffling the sound.

"Don't need the dead hearing us, doll."

He kisses my neck once I've soaked his fingers and then brings them to his mouth.

"Mmm, fuck, this pussy tastes so good I might have to eat it everyday."

I turn around in his arms to face him. My hand goes up to hold his face and my fingers play with his gray hair. He kisses my forehead before meeting my gaze.

"This is so wrong, baby." He strokes my cheek gently.

"Can't be wrong if it feels this good."

He tilts my chin up to press his lips against mine. It's so much better than I ever imagined. He knows exactly what he's doing, and even though I've never kissed anyone, he takes the lead and I'm thankful for it. I moan into his mouth when he deepens the kiss, his hand gripping the back of my neck now. The feeling of is tongue in my mouth makes me clench my legs again, and I think he notices because his hand on my neck travels lower until it reaches the back of my thigh. He lifts my leg over his and his hand slides to my ass, squeezing lightly before his long fingers tease my entrance from behind.

His dick is pressed into me painfully and I can't wait any longer. I need to touch him. Feel him inside me.

I reach my hand inside his boxers and pull out his big, hard cock. I try looking at it under the covers between us.

"You've never seen a dick before, doll?"

I shake my head no and admire him. It's so perfect.

He closes his eyes as I stroke it. "Fuck. So innocent, baby."

He kisses my neck while I pull on him even more. "You sure you want this, baby?"

I nod. "Yes, please. I've been wanting this for so long, Negan."

He lines himself up at my opening, my leg still draped over his so that he's in between my legs.

"Once we do this, you're mine darlin'."

"I'm already yours."

That's all he needs to hear to finally push the tip past my opening. I've never had anything inside of me other than a finger, and the feeling of his thick head pushing through me and stretching my walls has my mouth falling open.

"Tell me to stop, baby."

"No, keep going. Please." I beg.

He slides deeper and deeper until he's buried inside me completely. He stays still, letting me adjust. and kisses me through the pain. A pain that feels so good. I kiss him back hard, scratching his back while grinding my waist pathetically against him repeatedly. I moan in his ear and give him the go ahead to start moving. He fucks me deep and slow at first, letting me get used to him.

"So fucking tight baby."

He growls in my ear and vibration of his deep voice sends chills through me again until my pussy flutters around him.

"Holy fuck, doll. Do that again."

I squeeze my cunt around him again and he lets out the hottest moan I've ever heard. Not that I've heard a man moan before, but I just know that his are the hottest.

"I won't last if you keep doing that, baby." He warns and the thought of him shooting his load inside me has my head spinning.

After a few more thrusts that have my eyes rolling to the back of my head, I feel myself reaching my orgasm again and hold him against me so I can grind against him and ride it out.

"Negan, Negan, oh my god.” I breathe out as I push myself so hard against him that my clit rubs against his pubic bone creating the friction I need to send me over the edge.

"Goddamn." He thrusts into me faster and harder. "Gonna make me fucking cum already, baby." He tries to pull out but you tighten your leg around him so he can't pull away.

"Cum in me, Negan. Please." I cry desperately. "I love you. I want all of you."

He kisses me hard before his hips come to a halt. He practically yells out when he shoots his load deep inside me. "Ah, fuck! Babyyy."

The sound of Negan cumming is even hotter than his moaning from earlier - I didn't think it could get any better but holy shit. We're both a tangled, sweaty mess while our hearts beat out of our chest.

We eventually fall asleep with our lips still touching and his softening dick still inside me.

I don't even worry about the possibility of what could happen in the future.. I know I'm safe with Negan.. Here in our little cabin. He gently strokes my hair as we drift back off to sleep.

BOOM. The thunder crashes outside again, but this time I don't even flinch.

"You're not scared of thunder, are you, doll?"

I smile against his chest. "...No."

The End.

Brb, going to take an ice bath.

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY JASON TODD/ROBIN/RED HOOD *  assorted dialogue from multiple dc universe sources, adjust as necessary

i did it once for dramatic effect and it just got to be a habit.

you can't tell, but i'm dozing off under this mask.

a whole night in paris... and i managed to not kill anyone. not bad.

you made the same mistake everyone does when it comes to me.

i want to warn them... but i know i can't.

don't know, don't care. i got my hands full.

do you remember the last time we were together?

looks like you guys could use a hand!

i'm looking for someone.

i'm afraid it's about to get much worse.

the angry, reckless vigilante bit is my thing.

i'm not good or bad. i'm just practical as hell.

you and i are more alike than you realize.

i get it. starting over is scary as hell.

i don't even need to turn around to know that's you.

thanks for thinking of me. i'm happy to help. honored, even.

i generally have several madness-inducing hallucinations before breakfast.

nothing in the real world can be as frightening as what we can imagine... right?

you don't think i understand what it's like to be abandoned? forgotten?

i'll be damed if my best friend is going to die... because he was dumb enough to trust me.

i'm sorry. i'm never going to be the hero you want me to be.

next time i see you, i'm going to kick your butt for this dying crap.

you have ten seconds to walk way. nine... oh, screw it.

there are better ways to spend your energy.

that looks like it's gotta hurt. well, i say that like i'm speculating or something. i know it hurts.

we chose to be a family.

if there's hope for us... there's hope for everyone.

you still haven't figured it out?

life's just a game... and this time, you lose.

i seem to have made myself an enemy of all the bad guys.

it's too late. you had your chance.

i'm just getting started.

hard to forget that night, huh?

in a way, this was the site of your first great failure.

ah... memories.

you can't stop crime. that's what you never understood.

you want to rule them by fear, but what do you do to those who aren't afraid?

i'm doing what you won't.

i'm taking them out.

now tell me... how does it feel?

is that what you think this is about?

i don't know what clouds your judgement worse. your guilt or your antiquated sense of morality.

i forgive you for not saving me.

he took me away from you.

i am no one's son.

what do you think this was all about?

welcome to planet earth, baby.

fear isn't the answer.

you son of a bitch.

we were friends, helping each other pick up the pieces of our lives.

it might not be a popular thought, but not everyone wants to be alive.

can you hear it?

funny, i actually escaped death.

the past keeps dragging me back.

they're not monsters. they're victims of programming, abuse, and trauma.

they can change.

fact is, they're just like us.

we became something else.

you hurt a lot of people.

we don't discriminate here.

sometimes you don't know what you want 'til you learn what you don't.

trust? you? i'll give it a try. but i'll tell you right now, i'm probably going to screw it up.

guys like us? the life we lead? we're never truly alone.

i have no idea who you people are.

you pompous ass.

before i kill you, i want the truth.

i'd like to think i'm an open-minded guy.

sure it was fun. but does that mean it was right?

sometimes i wonder if i'm just part of the problem.

i'm not doing one more damn mission with them unless you get me someone i can trust to watch my back.

knew you couldn't do it.

it's official. class is in session.

[totheblood]

can you do angsty ellie headcanons? maybe how she reacts in a fight/what makes her angry? or ellie being mean to reader and having to apologize??

a/n: of course!!! this is NOT proofread... and there is some ai audios at the bottom... enjoy!

angry gf ellie

ellie does her absolute best to not get upset with you

like she really does because her mouth is a bitch when she's mad

but sometimes you take things a little too far and ellie has to fight with herself to not lash out at you

"ellie, i wasn't actually flirting with her. i was just trying to tease you." you would say in a worried voice as you watched her pace the room and avoid eye contact with you

"in what fucking world would you think i would like that?" she would spit out, flinching at her own tone

"i jus-" you try and justify it but you know you have pushed her a little too far

she would probably cut you off with the sound of your name, her voice much gentler this time

"can you just go? i need to be alone right now."

ellie is also very good at the silent treatment which drives you crazy

she would avoid you for days after the incident, not wanting to get in a full-fledged fight with you

she keeps imagining you playfully laughing and touching someone else's forearm and it drives her crazy

she doesn't even know why you would do something like that, was she not giving you enough attention?

so she would end up at your door late at night with her foot in your mouth

upon seeing your tired face, probably from the stress she caused you, she would immediately fold (ellie is such a simp it's embarrassing)

she just forgets what she's mad about when looking into your sad eyes, your face already in the palm of her hand

"baby," she would coo

"'m sorry els, it was so stupid. i don't even know why i thought that was a good idea because if you did that to me i would probably lose my mind, so please don't break up with me. i promise it will never-" she would watch as you rambled on but get absolutely thrown by the 'don't break up with me' comment

"hey hey hey, who said anything about breaking up? i was just upset, is all. don't like seeing my girl touching anyone else, yeah? we're okay, i promise." she does her best to reassure you, but when the worried look on your face doesn't go away she decides to press a kiss on your forehead

"you promise?"

"i promise. -- now are you going to invite me in? it's fucking freezing out here!"

ellie only gets angry at the sight of two things: you with another person and you injured

it's why she tries her best to be the only one who goes on patrol with you, but since shifts rotate sometimes you have to go with someone else

and that someone was jesse, who you loved but who ellie hated for you to be on patrol with

she knows what you and jesse are like around eachother (distracted) and you always come back with a few extra scratches when you're out with him

this time you came back on the back of jesse's horse with blood dripping down your forehead

upon seeing you ellie is immediately fuming and running out from the shelter of the stable to help you off the horse

she tries to be gentle in helping you down but she's shaking and your blood has started to drip onto her hand

"what the fuck happened, jesse?" she says in a huff as the men in the stable rush over to help her get you down.

"raiders, they just came out of nowhere." he sighs, hand on his head because he knows he's about to get it from ellie

"they came out of nowhere? or were you just not paying any fucking attention?!" she glared at jesse as you toppled over into her

"c'mon baby, you're okay." she'd press a kiss to your forehead ignoring jesse as she got you to the infirmary

but once you were all stitched up and alert? she was on you in an instant

"you always do this and i tell you every time that one day it's going to cost you your fucking life! and that day was almost today! -- do you know how lucky you are?"

you were just blinking up at her with your eyes wide, it shocked you that when you finally came to you were recieving a lecture from your girlfriend

"ellie, i'm too tired for this."

"oh, you're too tired? imagine how tired i am! how tiring it must be to wait for days not knowing if your girlfriend is dead. but noooo, jesse is just that fucking interesting that you have to risk your life to laugh at his lame jokes."

"what do you want me to do?" at this point you're just trying to get the pounding in your head to stop

"i want you to focus when you are on patrol! act like your life means something!" she's practically begging at this point

"okay."

"okay?"

"anything to stop you yelling at me, i really don't feel good." you say, leaning over to throw up into the closest garbage can

and just like that ellie is your ellie again, she's rushing over to hold your hair and rub your back

when you finish she gets up to throw the trash outside so the room doesn't stink

she hates being mad at you, but she hates upsetting you

"look, about what i said earlier; i'm sorry. i don't know what would happen, what i would do, if i lost you. i didn't mean to take it out on you."

you grab her hand and squeeze it lightly, "i know and i love you."

"i love you more."

but then you're leaning in to give her a kiss and she remembers five minutes ago when you were throwing up everything inside you

"i'll give you a kiss later…after we get those teeth cleaned."

ai audios:

i had more... but there's an upload limit

[evandsolo]

Home is where you are. | ft. Choi San.

choi san x reader genre : fluff, established relationship, slice of life words : 1,790. trigger warning : none ! if you see some, please tell me. plot : it's your first anniversary with the love of your life. you just spend the night together. side note : i just love San so much, i wanted to write the cutest thing with him ! I hope I gave him justice !

It’s already been a year. The best year of your life if you had to be fully honest. A year since he said he wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side. You knew San for a long time before, but could you imagine how amazing your life would be today ? You’ve never felt so loved before, so understood, so cherished, even though his work was taking a lot of his time. He always made sure to have enough time to spend with you.  

“I can't wait to be home and to be with you again” he said on the phone last night making your heart flutter so fast. “I Can't wait either. Will you be home when I get back from work?” You asked, hoping for a positive answer “I'm landing in the morning. I'll probably have to make a stop by the agency before heading home but I'll be there. I promise.” 

Your day was full of meetings and appointments, but you loved your job so much. You had a lot of responsibilities and you've never felt so accomplished in your life ever before. You kept on checking your phone every time you had the chance to. You wanted to make sure your boyfriend arrived safely, but the text did not arrive as soon as you hoped it would. He was supposed to arrive in the morning. He always texted you when landing. He probably had forgotten, you knew he had a lot of things to do. Or maybe the plane was running late. For a second you thought about checking his flight, just to reassure yourself. But it'd be a little bit extra. You let the hours pass by, until it was time for you to go home. Still no news of your lover. You can’t help but start to worry. It’s not usual for him to remain silent, especially when he comes home from a long trip.  

You hoppe in a taxi trying to call his best friend, who also became yours over time. “Yeah ?” answers Wooyoung’s voice on the other side of the phone. “Good lord, you’re alive !” Relief can be heard in your voice. “Of course I am ! Are you okay y/n ?” Okay ? How can you be ? “ I haven’t heard from San since you took off the plane, is he still with you ?” you ask. please please please, tell me he is with you. “No, he left the agency a few hours ago, but I'm pretty sure his phone died. You don’t have to worry, y/n” You try real hard to hold back your tears. “Yeah, I hope you’re right. Thanks Woo.” You finish, hanging out the call. Why hasn't he reached out to you yet ? On that day that seemed so special for the both of you. 

Your way home is full of questions and worries. You try to call him up but you end up again by falling on his voicemail without even a tone. Wooyoung was probably right after all, there was no need to be worried. 

You unlock your door and suddenly your heart stops in your chest. A soft dim light is diffused in the whole apartment, and the floor is covered in red petals. The room is filled with the sound of your favorite melody. All the pieces of the puzzle are assembled and you finally realize what was going on. Your eyes are starting to fill with tears as you move into the room. He stands up here, behind the central island of the kitchen. His eyes finally reach you and you can see the widest smile on his face. “ Hi gorgeous !” He says, in his joyful voice. 

Your bag falls on the ground, and you run into his arms, burying your face into his chest. You were so worried, that seeing him here was the biggest relief ever. “I’m happy to see you too, baby.” He chuckles. “ I missed you, and you didn’t send any text. I thought something bad happened to you.” You admit, keeping your face close to his heart so you could hear his heartbeat. “ My phone died before I left the agency and I didn't have any battery left in the other one. But I had to come home fast.” You sigh in relief. You finally took a second to reach out to his lips and pressed yours against it. “I missed that.” He says, when you step back. 

“What were you cooking? It actually smells so good !” You ask, leaning on the counter to see into the pot. “A Sundubu-jjigae. Your favorite.” He answers, putting a kiss on your temple. “You really make my life feel like a dream, Sannie.” You were so lucky to have him. The sound of your favorite jazzy melody echoed in the room. Everything was so damn perfect. “ Would you like to dance with me ?” He asks, behind your back. “Here ? But the kitchen is way too small, we don't have enough space to dance.” You say, pointing at the room around you. “We won’t be fancy waltzing for sure, but I just want to have you close and swing to music.” He puts his hands around your waist and you wrap your arms around his neck, and starts swinging softly around the room. Soft light coming from the little spots and candles around the room made it even warmer. That was comforting. You always dreamed of those kinds of moments, but never thought it could be real. But here you are, slow dancing in the arms of the love of your life. “ I’m so thankful for the life we share.” You whisper, eyes riveted in his. He was gentle, understanding. The most caring and beautiful soul you’ve ever seen in your life. He makes you turn around yourself and you can’t help but giggle. “I’m thankful for you, y/n” He murmurs in your ear. keeping you close to him. The music changed, and sadly you stopped the moment. 

It was time for you to freshen-up a little, as the dish was finishing to stew. You had a few minutes before you. Once you reach the room, you find a giant box on the bed. The bow on it doesn't fool you. You also had a present prepared for your lover, but this ! This was quite wild. “Love ? What's in there?” You shout from the room. “Open it, you'll love what's inside !” Curious, you pull the piece of fabric to open the box’s lid. It’s absolutely full of things, and every little detail makes your heart warmer. Twelve items, for twelve months of love. A giant bear plushie, some candies, your favorite perfume, a very pretty bracelet. amongst everything there was a silky sleepwear set. Two cats were embroidered on the top, right on the heart position. It was the cutest thing you’ve ever witnessed, and it was quite special to you. It was personalized and showed how much attention he puts in everything you said or shared this past year. You took the time to admire every single item, before heading to the bathroom for a few minutes. 

“So ? You like… Wow ! Hello Baby.”  He says, appearing in the door frame, making your smile become wider. The way he was looking at you, could make you fall in love again. “How did I get that lucky ?” He asks, as you turn to him. He had so much love in his eyes. That's something you have never witnessed ever before. And the way he looked just like a prince out of a fairytale. His half buttoned shirt, rolled out sleeves, perfectly adjusted to his good amount of muscles. He couldn't look more handsome than this. “ You ain’t bad either, love.” You answer him with a little voice both amused and lascivious. You loved the way his honeyskin stood out even more thanks to his white shirt. He probably would be even more handsome without, but you’ll keep that for later.

You grab the small box on the dresser before heading towards him and placing a kiss at the corner of his jaw. “Here’s yours. Open it.” You invite him, a little smile on your lips. You waited for this for days. You knew he'd be so happy.  “What’s in there ?” He says, looking at it closely. But it was just a box, no brand, no distinctive signs of anything. “Just open it !” You press him with all your impatience. You couldn’t wait any longer. He opens the upper part, just to discover a gorgeous beige necklace. “Babe ?” He says, a little bit lost, when taking the object in his big hands. You can’t help but giggle. “You should just read the paper in it, before looking at me like that.” He took it with concern, and read the lines you handwritten him earlier on. 

Hi ! It’s me, Byeol. 

Apparently, you told mom you were hoping to grow the family one day. So here I am the first addition to our family. I may not be a human baby, mom says it’s a little bit too soon, but she said to me you’d be the happiest kitten dad in the world.  

I can’t wait to meet you ! You and mom will come and get me tomorrow morning. 

See ya, Byeol ! 

“Is it real ?” He said, lifting his head up to you, his eyes sparkling with joy. You nod your head quickly, happiness reading in your features. “But you said because of your allergy we couldn’t have cats !” His cautiousness made your heart flutters. “It’ll be okay, I've discussed with doctors and I was able to be desensitized, so we will be able to accommodate her.” You didn’t tell him anything to keep the surprise total. And it worked just as you expected. “ You did that for me ?” He asks, wrapping his giant’s arms around you. “ Yeah. You wanted to have a cat for so long now. I knew you’d be happy.” He leans to you, to kiss you deeply. “Do you know how much I love you ?” He says against your lips, making you smile as you step back a little. “I’d probably love you more after the diner. Because you cannot imagine how hungry I am.” You say, leaving his arms to run to the kitchen. 

From the hallway you can hear him yelling with joy and saying "Guys! I’m going to be a cat daddy!" Probably a voice message he sent to his best friend, impatient to share the big news. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

Life was so good by his side, you hoped it would remain like that, forever. Even how fast, crazy and amazing it is. It’s just as perfect as you expected it to be.

I really hope you appreciated it, do not hesitate to reblog or to leave a note i’d love to read all about your thoughts. ✿

[menlove]

one thing that adds to credibility of Paul being closeted imo, is that often he is thought of as having this internalised homophobia, if not homophobia itself, because he always mentions how un-gay he is whenever some gay subject comes up in interviews

but like, there are so many things that disprove him being homophobic, it's not even funny. going to Paris alone with gay men? Paul did that two times (three if we count John lol) and that Peter Brown story is incrediblyy suspect. what homophobic man, scared of gay, sits on the bed of his male employee and his male fling that casually late at night in his hotel room and chats them up?

most likely reason, combined with his incredibly suspect lyrics, is that he is so defensive about his sexuality because he has something to hide

THATS WHAT IIIIIM SAYING!!!! like he is so comfortable w gay people and gay culture which on its own isn't suspect but it Is when people insist he's homophobic as a Reason He's Repressed Not Closeted. and once again I must remind everyone that john nearly beat a man to death for calling him gay and was still undeniably queer.

it's just like. imagine for a moment. with me. everyone hold my hand. not claiming this is true but walk w me along this path to get to current paul that isn't "he's just repressed and stupid and doesn't even know he's bi" but is instead MY speculative timeline (somehow this turned into a mini fic or something god help me but I'M SO SERIOUS IM SO SERIOUS THIS WOULD MAKE THE MOST SENSE TO ME WALK WITH ME HOLD MY HAND)

you are born in the 1940s. you are raised by a strict man who was physically abusive & in a culture that hates gay people. you grow up watching people get killed for being queer and being bullied over your feminine features that people think make you queer. you hit puberty and Shit Gets Harder because you start finding other men hot. elvis, for one! when you're 15 you start seeing a boy around that you think is hot and it turns out he's in a band and you fall in love with his looks and his voice and then him. and he's just as insane about you. you start doing increasingly sexual things together. eventually, you're having a full blown sexual affair. while writing love songs together and growing up together. and then he gets his girlfriend pregnant. and marries her. and you lose him, a little bit. he goes off and has an affair with your gay manager & when he gets home he ruins your birthday party by nearly beating a man to death for bringing it up. you wonder what he'd do if anyone found out about the two of you too.

and then the insane happens and you end up The Most Famous Band In The World. the ENTIRE world is watching your every move. the entire world loves you. they wouldn't love you if they knew. you get a girlfriend and it's convenient because she's always gone and you're always alone. but you still have him. and other girls. through everything, you have each other. even when he says something stupid and the world wants all of your heads on a platter and he starts to fall into a depression, you still have each other. even if now you Know how bad it could be if they ever found out. and then your manager, your father figure, an openly gay man, dies. and it's not a suicide, but a lot of people think it is, and sometimes you wonder, and fuck it's terrifying, isn't it? the reality of your life, the reality of loving Him, the reality of being queer. what if that winds up being You? you start to lose Him a little bit more as you throw yourself into your work and push everyone way too hard. you propose to your girlfriend. and then you do lose Him. to a woman. which was sort of unthinkable because he was already married and never cared about her, just you. never cared about any women, just you. but he cares about Her. and you fucking lose your mind. lose yourself in drugs. blow up your engagement. propose to another girl and many more "jokingly". your one girlfriend says you had to try again or you would have gone "raving queer" and killed yourself. the whole time you're losing Him more and more. suddenly he's looking at Her like he used to look at you. you're no longer his world and what the fuck do you have? a bunch of girls you don't care about and a drug problem? and then you meet a woman who, according to you, is more woman than anyone else. she's a mother already, a family ready made when you've always wanted one. she's smart and she's funny and she's quick and you let yourself cling to her because you don't have Him and he has Her so you've got to have someone, don't you? and she winds up pregnant and that's great, that's wonderful, you're no longer in danger of dying alone and queer and sad. you've lost Him by now completely, even though you have about a month where things feel a little less awful again and you perform together one last time. you marry her and you ASK people, flat out, if they expected you to be a 26 year old unmarried queer. you fight the night before you're married for some unknown reason, so badly she almost leaves you. and then He marries Her, and everything is fine. and then it all falls apart completely. you at least had Him as your friend, your writing partner, the other half of you legally. and then he asks for a divorce. and the world ends. you don't have the band, you don't have Him, you don't have anything. you stay in bed all day, drinking, miserable. like a breakup, not just of the band.

eventually, your wife pulls you out of it. you survive. you start writing again. you write to him. you put two beetles fucking on the cover of your second album and he thinks a song you wrote about your wife's ex is about him (and maybe it is, a little) and he shoots right back. and you keep that up for a decade. writing to each other. seeing each other only in the news and in snatched moments together where nothing is the same as it was. you plead with him through your music: why do you hurt me so bad? call me, pretty baby. I'm waking up screaming over you. I can't tell you how I feel. you try and make things like they were, even a little, showing up to his house with your guitar like you're 15 again, but he sends you away. in all that time, he's basically gone to conversion therapy. he's with someone who makes disparaging remarks about his sexuality. for you, you've let yourself embrace being a bit campy, but you still can't bring yourself to be open about any of it. not with anyone but your wife.

and then you start talking again. you make up. things seem hopeful. it seems like he might still love you and he writes you a song about starting over with you. and then he's murdered. and it's senseless. it's so so senseless. and it's unfair. you lock yourself away for days listening to that song he wrote you. the media tears you apart for grieving wrong. they wish you died instead. they think you're cold. you never loved him, not like he loved you. you write a song, with tear marks on the page, telling him how much you DID love him. all the things you'd say to him if he were there with you. you write more songs about that, all centered around that theme. some of them you say are about him. others you don't. once, you say if anyone catches on you can just deny it. but he wrote you love songs too, apparently, for you, and you eventually record them with your old band

and the thing is, You are one of his widows. his name follows yours every time it leaves someone's mouth. he's all anyone ever talks about with you. he's all you want to talk about too. his legacy is your legacy. he's no longer here to tell people about his sexuality, he's no longer here to consent to everything that you were being told. he's not here. and how can you even begin to mention Your Own sexuality without bringing him up? you owe him more than outing him in death. you owe Her more than that too, because you were already cruel to her and so was the world. she's grieving just like you, you can't do that. your wife dies, and now you're her legacy too and you being queer would seem like a betrayal to her. your best friend dies, and now he's your legacy too. you aren't just you- you're Him, you're 1/2 of the living members of the most famous band to ever exist, you're Her, you're your dead wife

so when someone asks you about him. when someone asks you about being gay or calls him the love of your life. What Exactly Are You Supposed To Say?

I wouldn't say shit either

[sleepybugeyes]

I read through all of Elias/Jonah's dialogue (as you do) plus some relistening and mentions of him, so here's a big list of some fun things and behaviors I noted!

I thought he made a lot of eye puns/jokes, but he only does it once in mag161, however he does enjoy making jokes. "Creativity never was their forte." from mag80, "You want my account? My sworn testimony? My statement?" from 82, "If you die, I’m afraid you probably won’t be able to claim your expenses." in 116 and "I only have two eyes, after all." in 120. no one ever laughs at his jokes only he finds them amusing

His last words telling Jon a sarcastic or mocking "good luck" are mirrored earlier as he also tells Basira good luck the last time he sees her, and Martin, as he's getting arrested

He loves gloating. "I forget how new you all are to this." from mag92, "Coffee is not as good for disguising tastes as you might think." in 98, "She’s hoping that even if I see it coming she’ll still be able to overpower me. She’s wrong, of course," in 102, "A masterpiece, isn’t it?" abt his panopticon in 158 and of course his whole monologue in 160

He does his budgeting on tuesdays and his scheduling on wednesdays

He also likes getting lost in work

in mag40 he makes up proper incompetency (said he didnt know how the fire system works, while he later admits he was actively waiting) just that once, but more so he acts like he doesnt get the full picture (doesnt know whats in the tunnels, whats strange about the institute) or acts too late and apologises (not stepping into jon's stalking behaviour). Which makes me think he is quite fine letting people think less of him but unless he has something to hide hes not actively looking to give the impression

in mag92 elias slides the papers for basira across his desk, but you don't hear him take them out before, meaning he prepared and got ready for this before he called the police

in general he's a very preparing man, Lukas steps in when Elias is arrested so has has control over who'd run it. in mag118 he says he prepared something to hurt martin (my speculation is that he likely has some trauma that could hurt you prepared for any person that could cross him, just in case he needs it). When he gets arrested he has something prepared so he doesnt get killed and ofc s1-4 is preparing Jon for his grand ritual

Elias admits the idea for his ritual kinda fell into place after Getrude didnt do anything about the people's church in march 2015. He shot Getrude and appointed Jon shortly after so "when you came to me already marked by the Web, I knew it had to be you." is pure dramatics as Jon was hired 4 years prior

also he got his ritual in 2018 so he managed to acomplish his life's goal in only 3 years, love his grindset 🔥

We never get a number for how many people Elias has killed in his ritual, the real life millbank has held over 1000 people at once, but id imagine his one panopticon held less than a whole complex

its really interesting to me in mag92 that hes SO sure they all know he's talking to them of his own free will. is he just that dead set on being in control or making sure they take no credit for his confession

there is a clock in Elias' office (but it's only heard in mag98)

He has killed people but Elias is very much not a blood thirsty person. Getrude and Peter are both surprised when he results to that. He's very much just ruthless and does not care, if to get his way he has to kill someone. It doesnt seem like he's ever happy to do so, maybe this is a quirk of being eye aligned and getting rid of any type of knowledge is painful (he does for example never want Tim to die at the Unknowing), or he just finds covering those murders up a hassle

for the Unknowing Elias books them all hotel rooms, how thoughtful

something cute to me that Jon was too good at the Eye that Elias couldnt meet him face to face post coma

In mag158 he implies that even Institute employees not in the archives are tied to it, at least enough that they could suffer or die if it burned down

between finding other people just as tools to watch and discard and saying empathy holds you back he was definitely a very very lonely man

He is a very breathy person. He sounds breathy when he talks. He takes deep breaths to ready himself and before he uses his powers. And he often breathes through his nose before speaking or during pauses

He has said Jon's name 62 times, only twice calling him "Jonathan" and called him archivist 25 times (24 in the mag120 statement, 1 in mag138 and 1 in mag161)(he also kinda calls him The Archive in 160)

other fun amount of words: know (65 times), see (42), martin (35), detective (20), eyes (20) and eye (9), afraid (9) and "bullshit" (1)

its still insane to me they added all of those sound effects of Elias' cuffs in prison, thats something fun to appreciate. It also means its canon he gestures quite a bit!

[princeguri66]

I had this thought pop in my mind so bare with me for a bit.

John "Soap" Mactavish x Male! Reader

eating something out of his mouth

18+ MINORS DNI

Cw: nsfw but no actual smut, saliva lots of it, eating something from someone's mouth.

So imagine this, one day you're in the mess hall eating away at your lunch with the team, you had a strawberry saved for last when suddenly Soap takes it out of your tray and you notice, "Soap you dick you better-" before you could say anything he puts in his mouth. You can see the fruit bulging his cheek as he smirks at you, with it still being in his cheek he says, "What? You still want it? Come and get it then" and opens his mouth, presenting the strawberry on his tongue.

What he doesn't know is that you don't mind it if it's coming from him, so you gingerly take the fruit with your fingers and eat it. Surprising him and the others who were paying attention. "Thanks, then." You say with your mouth full as you chew, turning your attention away from him and to the rest of the team who are now looking at you with pointed eyes.

Soap never forgets about this btw, right after lunch he went to his room and had to relieve himself, thinking about your fingers slightly touching his tongue and his spit mixing with yours as you chewed. He can't stop thinking about it.

The next few days follows him continuing to do this, no matter what you're eating, it could be rice, a protein bar, fucking soup he'd find a way to steal it just to have your fingers touch his tongue and watch you swallow something coated in his saliva.

Always having this weird sexual tension between you two every time you do this song and dance.

It gets to the point where you yourself can't stand it, and the next time he did this was late at night in the common area sitting on the couch with you watching anything that was on TV. You had an empty pack of small chocolate bites on your lap, and of course at the last piece Soap took it and placed it in his mouth, after moving it around in his mouth to make sure it's fully covered in his saliva he opened his mouth, a usual thing he does with you now.

Instead of your hand reaching for his mouth it cups his cheek, you leaning in faster than he could register, distracted by how softly you cradled his cheek. You place your mouth right over his open one, Soap moaned into your kiss but it's mostly just you and him basically swallowing each other, making out opened mouth, drool dripping to his chin as you toy with the treat on his tongue, tasting how the chocolate has melted in the heat of his mouth. You suck on his tongue taking away the treat, you keep it in your mouth as you bite his bottom lip and disconnect, a trail of spit connecting you both before it falls. You two panting and eyes blown, you two sporting a noticeable bulge in both of your pants

With a triumphant grin you say "Gotcha." and open your mouth to reveal the chocolate and swallow after.

Soap has never been harder and hornier in his entire life.

[loliwrites]

The One You Need | one

🎶 I spent most my life thinkin' love was out of reach, so maybe just this once, you could be the one I need, if you let me be the one you need 🎶

Pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader  Rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni  Summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life. Warnings/Tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], slow burn [ish], hyper-independent reader, a bit of a misandrist mindset [boys are problems], mentions of family drama/turmoil, passing mention of death [elderly neighbor], brief non-violent use of a pocket knife, mention of stabbing [as self-defense], furniture building, reader described as female, hair long enough to tie up, no other physical descriptions, eventual smut, protective!joel, soft!joel, no use of y/n. Word Count: 4.6k Series Masterlist | part two a/n: this is my first time writing with this sort of format so pls be gentle. i’ve done my best to tag as thoroughly as possible, but if you think i’ve missed something, let me know. i have no outline for this. but i’ve got a whim and a direction and i’m going with it. **please read the warnings/tags for every part as they will be updated**

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You’d done it. Finally. No one ever thought you would, including you. And yet, here you were, lugging your sparse personal belongings out of the back of a U-Haul truck and in through the front door of your new home. And for once in your adult life, it wasn’t in some impersonal apartment building or complex. It was a house. In a town that was actually affordable, though it was further from home than you might’ve preferred. A town that was away from family, which had been the impetus, but also away from friends, which hadn’t been. 

There was a perk to this being the first house you’d ever moved into. Being confined to seven hundred square feet had meant there was only so much room to fill. And it had all been cozy. But now there was a bit more space to work with. Not to say this house was large by any stretch of the imagination – it was on the smaller side of all the houses in the neighborhood – but you had rooms now. And as you loaded in different boxes and suitcases full of clothes and books, you realized how much of the space was going to be left empty. With the exception of a mattress, bed frame, dresser, a couple chairs, and bookcases, you left every other large piece of furniture behind. Couches, dining table, kitchen chairs, media console, TV… you planned on buying all of that in town. You only wanted to bring what you felt you could move yourself. 

It was the season of life you were in. Young enough for people to say you had time before focusing on creating a family for yourself, but not young enough to avoid their awkward and worried glances when you told them you were only focused on your career. It was odd; never something that settled right. With each birthday, every time a candle was added, the world around you seemed less secure with your aloneness. As if you, a single female, were something of a threat to the rest of the world. Your solitude, an act of rebellion. God forbid you didn’t have a man to look after you. In your experience, boys didn’t do too good a job at much. Were they useful? Absolutely. You’d much rather delegate tasks to a boy than have to do them yourself. Mow the lawn, fix a creaky door, seal a drafty window, get you off… sure, there were any number of things a boy could do, but not only were they not necessary, you generally found you were better at any job than they were. That had been instilled in you long before you began dating. 

How many times had it been proven that dad could not be held accountable for his entire emotional spectrum? And instead you, a mere child, were to be responsible for it. Though it wasn’t always bad – somewhere deep down you knew your parents had done the absolute best they knew how to do with the tools they had – but the emotion dad was never short on was anger. Thus, it was the emotion he was most comfortable expressing. And yes, you apparently were the catalyst for all of his loud expressions of anger and rage. Everything was always conditional. I’m sorry but you did this… 

I love you but…

By the time dating had entered your life (which only happened post-college), let’s just say no therapist was surprised by the pattern of boys you chose to have in your life. All of them modeled the thing you were familiar with, which only served to imbed the quality you hated most about yourself. There was a tendency to accept any treatment a boy was willing to give you, without expressing needs or desires or even if there was a problem. Boundaries? Never heard of her. As far as boys were concerned, they seemed to have carte blanche over you. Your own resentment and anger would grow by the lack of your needs (which had never been verbally expressed) being met, until you’d had enough and cut them off. Every new relationship felt like a complete betrayal of yourself.

The highly independent and ‘don’t need a man’ personality quirk had strung a ribbon of apathy around your life. You liked to think of it that way. Like a Christmas bow around a present. Realizing you didn’t care about forming intimate relationships with men seemed a little less painful when given the image of a box neatly wrapped beneath a tree donning tinsel and colorful lights. It was at that point, while pondering your ribbon of apathy and clumsily shoving your mattress up the front porch steps, that a voice interrupted your progress.

“Lemme help ya’ with that, ma’am,”

The voice had arms. And those arms were simultaneously reaching for the same end of the mattress you already had hands on. Instinctively, you tugged your bed out of reach, “I got it.” But hands kept coming. They were insistent. Of course they were a man’s hands. A woman would’ve listened the first time. So with an extra strong tug and a tone that spat fire, you turned toward the owner of the hands and stood your ground, “I said, I got it!”

Dark brown eyes that almost looked black had the sun not been playing in their favor. They were soft. Gentle. Despite the fact that he’d just gotten yelled at. And those soft dark brown eyes… well they looked dumbfounded. Whether it was because of the volume of the statement or the fact that people generally didn’t turn down friendly help here in the South, he lifted his hands off the mattress and held them up innocently. 

The force with which your action had been committed meant that the moment he released  the bed, you went stumbling over, the entire thing thudding down on the porch. You shot him another icy glare as he slowly backed off the steps, though he remained in place and watched you crouch down to lift your mattress once again; the pad now harboring dirty stains.

“Can I help you with something in the truck?” He offered again. Unwanted persistence was a uniquely male quality.

“I don’t need your help, thanks. I got it,”

He watched for just a second longer at the image of you fumbling with the heavy mattress, barely able to keep it upright. Then he turned on his heels and went back from whence he came. Which you came to realize, when you looked over your shoulder to ensure he’d actually gone, was across the street and a few houses down. Fuck. Back in California, not too many people were neighborly but it wasn’t a point you were hoping to make. Especially not on the first day. There was a quaintness to the idea of a neighborhood full of people who liked and looked out for one another. You’d just hoped that would’ve come in the form of some old, opinionated woman sipping tea in a rocking chair on her front porch. The kind that maybe the kids were afraid of, but she was awesome. That’s when it came to mind that maybe that was the void in the neighborhood you were filling. You were to be the crotchety old woman, yelling at “those darn kids”. Fabulous.

Unfortunately (for no other reason than your own ego) you only got the mattress in through the threshold of the front door before it fell to the side and flopped back down to the floor. With a sigh and a thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad if it just lived there, you stepped over it and padded into the kitchen. Managed to place the boxes designated to the room in it, but had yet to unpack anything. You turned on the tap and tilted your head to the side, leaning in to take a sip of water directly from it. Only to find that upon turning off the tap and looking out the bay window by the sink, the man that had offered to help was visible from his yard. He wheeled out his trash and recycling bins to the curb. Resting his hands on his hips, he glanced around and took stock of the neighborhood. All seemed quiet and to his liking.

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Joel liked routine. Habit-forming had become a sort of habit. It meant he knew what his days looked like. It meant he was prepared. And after having been handed a life where being ill-prepared meant something was going wrong, there was great comfort in knowing how things were going to go day by day. Though he wasn’t rigid. He could include new things in his routine. For instance…

One morning he woke up, made his usual pot of coffee before work, and stood out on his porch. It’d be one of his only moments to slow down and actually notice the day. That’s when he noticed something new in his routine. A “For Sale” sign went up on Mrs. Wilson’s front lawn. Everyone in the neighborhood had been expecting it because, well, Mrs. Wilson had passed away. In her sleep one night. Joel thought that must’ve been the nicest way to go. And every morning, he’d go out on his porch and ponder Mrs. Wilson before carrying on with the rest of his routine. As such, he saw when it sold and went into escrow. He saw Mrs. Wilson’s son move out all of his mother’s old furniture until the place was left empty. Everything was routine. 

That is, until the U-Haul showed up this morning. It was a small one and he remembered thinking there was no way that little truck contained enough furniture to fill up that house. But he brushed it off, continued with his routine, and went off to work. Though he had to admit, he was wholly curious about the new neighbor he was about to inherit.

He left his jobsite early afternoon, his truck ambling back to his house when another neighbor waved him down to stop him.

“Hey, Mr. Cole,” Joel smiled at the elderly man. Mr. Cole had been the first one to greet Joel when he’d first moved into town. Mr. Cole knew everything going on in the neighborhood, courtesy of Mrs. Cole.

“You see that gal move into Mrs. Wilson’s house?”

Joel nodded, “saw that woman move in, yeah.”

“Mighty pretty,”

Joel chuckled, “surely not as pretty as Mrs. Cole,”

“I don’t know,”

Joel laughed a little harder. “I’ll see ya’ around. Stop snoopin’.”

He’d only just arrived back home and parked his truck in the driveway when he saw you struggling with the mattress. And his mama raised him better than that so he went to offer his help. There hadn’t been a fiber in his being that thought you’d snap back like you had. That’s why he tried a second time. And when the second snap was stronger than the first, he raised his hands and backed off.

Shit. Out-of-towners were getting meaner and meaner.

He meandered to his house and only looked back once, just in time to see the mattress fall to the floor just inside the front door. He smiled to himself and continued on with his routine as much as possible. Tomorrow was trash day which meant the bins needed to be brought out.  Simple enough task, just the way he liked it. He liked it even more when he spotted a glimpse of you looking at him through your kitchen window. 

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

You forwent unpacking anything that day. It wasn’t worth it. Nothing you pulled out would truly have a place to live until you got the furniture situation handled. And seeing as though your bed was still in the entryway, you figured there were bigger problems to handle. But just by looking at the hallway, and the thin doorways, you knew you were going to have a hell of a time bending and twisting the mattress to your will… and the architecture. Grocery shopping proved to be more time-sensitive, and once the fridge was as fully stocked as your bank account would allow, it already started to feel more like home. Which also meant, the way you’d snapped at your neighbor started to bother you more. You had to live in this person’s realm – whatever that looked like. He was your neighbor, and short of literally becoming the crotchety old woman that never left her home, there wasn’t a way for you to avoid him altogether. He seemed to have a lot of friends on the block. That’s also when you decided to suck up to your pride. To apologize to this man who really didn’t deserve an apology at all. Whatever it took to just live in peace.

The more you thought about it, the more it angered you. That was pretty par for the course. It would’ve been more odd if a man wasn’t pissing you off. It was still running through your mind as you plucked a six-pack from your fridge and crossed the street in the direction of his house. You thought about how you were going to have to plaster a phony smile on your face and make niceties to this person who you didn’t want to get to know. You just wanted to live. And you thought you’d have more time. As you ascended his porch steps, you made for the front door, zeroed in on it.

“Hey,” 

The voice startled you, tripping over your own feet and stumbling, very nearly losing the six-pack of bottles to the wooden porch. You glanced over at him, and in the dim light his porch light gave off, watched him take an acoustic guitar out of his lap and set it beside his chair.

“Hi,” you mumbled and walked in his direction. “I’m your new neighbor,”

“I know. You yelled at me,”

You rolled your eyes, “I didn’t yell at you. I was just letting you know–”

“S’for me?”

You looked back down at him and noticed how he pointed at the six-pack of beer. “We got off on the wrong foot and I just want to live in peace and quiet so,” gesturing to the beer, “peace offering.” You handed the pack to him.

Joel cradled the cardboard sleeve in his lap and pulled out a bottle. “Want one?”

“No, thanks. I just came to drop them off,”

He flicked his eyes up and pulled out a second bottle. Then, setting the remaining bottles on the floor beside him, he twisted the first cap off. “S’not nice to yell at someone and then refuse their offer to share a drink,”

“I didn’t yell at you,”

“Sit down.”

And for whatever reason, you listened. In the past, had any man spoken to you like that, especially one you didn’t know from Adam, you’d’ve smacked him. But not this time. This time you sat in the chair perched next to his and awkwardly took the open beer from his hand when he passed it over to you.

The silence that ensued was tense and palpable. Neither willing to bend first. Joel kept his eyes focused on his beer bottle and you kept your focus on… him. Naturally suspicious and wary, you thought if you kept your gaze on him, you’d catch him before he did anything out of hand. But really all you noticed was the way his nose had a slight downward curve to it. And the way the graying hair at the back of his head curled along his neck. And the way his beard, also graying, came in in patches, but in the most endearing way. Wrinkles and worry lines had etched their way deep in his forehead. Crow’s feet found a home in the corners of his eyes. Both told you this was a man who had felt and lived a lot of life: the good and the bad. You thought you saw a small scar on his cheek just below his eye, but you couldn’t be sure. The man was middle-aged. His skin and hands gave the appearance he was a blue-collar, working man who’d spent his life in the beating sun.

“Get everything moved in?” He took a sip and eyed you, aware that you were nodding, but still the glance he gave you made you think he knew you were lying. Obviously you were.

“My bed is still by the front door,” you relented.

“Not where I’d recommend a bedroom be, but to each their own,”

“I can’t get it down the hallway by myself.” You tried to ignore that he seemed to light up at the admission. You? Needing his help? “It’s too narrow,”

“Want help?”

You looked at him almost incredulously. Had you treated California neighbors the way you treated them, you'd have been lucky if you didn’t find your car keyed the next day. But he was offering his help? Again?

“You’d help me after the way I yelled at you?”

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “You didn’t yell at me,” another smile flashed over his face and he looked over at you again.

You hated that it made you smile, too. Yet you waved him off. “That’s alright. I’ll figure out a way,”

Joel chuckled and shook his head, taking a pause before he downed another long sip of his beer.

“What?” You urged. 

“S’nothin’,'' he shook his head again with another grin. “Know you probably could figure out a way, but… s’just that you don’t need to. Why won’t you let me help you?”

You sucked in a deep breath, “look, I’m sure you’re a nice guy…” you trailed off realizing you didn’t know his name more than referring to him to yourself as that nosy neighbor guy.

He seemed to pick up on it and pointed to himself, “Joel. Miller,”

“But I don’t need a guy to get on with life, y’know? I’m a self-sufficient woman. I don’t need to rely on anyone but myself.”

Joel finished off his beer and stood up from his chair, “acceptin’ help when it’s offered isn’t relying on anyone else. It just makes life easier.” He started down the steps and crossed over his lawn.

“Where’re you going?!”

“To move your bed!”

Leaping up from your chair, you ran after him, in quick pursuit as he neared your home. You knew it was a wreck inside. Trash and boxes everywhere. Not ready for any visitors, even ones you didn’t want there in the first place. 

“Really! It’s alright.” When that didn’t stop him from advancing toward your house, you tried another path, “the bed frame’s not even put together!”

“Then I’ll put it together,” he said over his shoulder, nearly in your front yard now. 

You managed to lunge forward and grab onto his jacket sleeve, effectively stopping his advance. At least for the time being. “I don’t usually let men I don’t know into my home,”

“What?”

“You know… in case they’re crazy and kill me.”

Joel furrowed his eyebrows, utterly perplexed. He tried to make heads or tails of you as a whole and was having a hell of a time trying to do so. But he shoved his hand into the back pocket of his jeans and produced from it, a pocket knife. He unfolded it, which gave you some pause, but then he quickly held it out for you to take. You did, and as soon as the small weapon left his hand, he turned and continued toward your porch.

“Hey! What am I supposed to do with this?!”

“Stab me,”

“What?!”

He ascended the porch steps and waited at your front door, where you soon joined him. “If I do something weird, and you think I’m gonna kill you in your own house, you can stab me. Full permission,”

You looked down at the knife, and then back up at Joel. 

“Can you open your door?”

Gulping down nerves, “it’s unlocked.”

“Still,” Joel pressed a smile, “I’m not in the habit of letting myself into women’s homes. I’d prefer if you opened it and let me in.”

For the second time today, you found yourself doing something all because a man told you to do so and you wondered if the move was making you soft. Regardless, you reached past Joel, pressed down on the lever, and nudged the door open. It stopped short from opening all the way as it hit the edge of your mattress. Joel flicked his eyes at you, as if silently saying see, you need me.

He shimmied his way in, with you close behind, half-heartedly pointing the pocket knife in his direction. He bent over and picked the mattress up off the floor, seemingly with ease. Though you did hear his knees click when he crouched down, but due to his age, you thought better than to bring it to attention. Hell, even your knees creaked every now and again.

“I’ll go backwards and steer it. Think you can be the muscle?” He waited until you nodded and set the knife down, and gathered your hair in a messy bun on top of your head to keep it out of the way. Poised at the other end of the mattress, he lined it up for its plight down the hallway. “Alright, nice and easy,” he began to pull, feeling more frictionless movement as you began helping on the other end. It wasn’t too hard; more awkward than anything. But he guessed the mattress weighed as much as, if not more than, you, so by yourself it must’ve been like dragging dead weight around. “Easy, easy,” he murmured, tilting the mattress to the side to accommodate for the doorjamb, “that’s it. Take it slow,” he elongated the end of the word, completely focused on the side of the mattress as it brushed along the door. “We’re in,”

You helped him lean the mattress out of the way and against the wall. “Thanks for your help, Joel,” you backed up toward the door, hoping he’d follow you.

But he ignored you completely, and instead found the parts to your metal bed frame laying on the floor. He lowered himself to his knees and inspected it. “You got a Phillips head?”

“Joel…”

“S’gonna take me ten minutes. The longer you stall, the longer I’m gonna be here.”

He had a point. And a very good one at that. So you turned and all but ran down the hall, searching for the box you’d so astutely labeled as “tools”. A fear set in that the longer you were away, the more time Joel had to go through your belongings (albeit sparse). You didn’t want him getting too comfortable in your home, least of all in your bedroom. So you rushed, tore open the “tools” box, dug through it until you found the screwdriver, and then raced back down the hall as if you’d have time to catch him snooping. But as soon as you arrived back in your bedroom doorway, you didn’t find him snooping. You found him still on his knees, crawling around, laying the different parts out to make the square your bed would soon sit on. 

Joel smiled when he noticed you returned, and held his hand up to take the screwdriver from you. Only when he grabbed it, his face turned to horror and he grimaced at the pink floral design on the handle. “What’s this?”

“A screwdriver,”

“It’s got flowers on it,” he protested.

“It’s cute!”

He chuckled and started putting the bed frame together. “Y’know they charged you thirty percent more because they slapped flowers on it and marketed it toward women,”

You sat on the floor beside him and watched him work. “Well if I have to be the man in my life, my tools are gonna be a little more feminine,”

Joel glanced at you momentarily. Just long enough to question your statement, but not long enough for you to really notice he’d stopped working at all. “What about the actual man in your life?”

“Don’t have one. Don’t need one. I’ve got my floral tool set to prove it,”

A hum was the only acknowledgement Joel gave to that. As if that answered all his questions.

“What?”

“You talk a lot about how you don’t need anyone. I’m gatherin’ you actually only mean you don’t need a man. Which is fine and all, but s’just that that seems kinda lonely.” He set the screwdriver down and held the next two pieces together. “You remind me of me ten years ago. Stubborn. Determined to be alone.” He moved on to the next piece, “thing is… if you don’t need anyone, it also kind of implies that you’re not needed by anyone. And what good is life if you can’t give yourself to someone in that way?”

Jaw-dropped, you gathered yourself, eyes widening. “Wow, your wife must love having you as a husband,”

He smiled and chuckled, “I don’t have a wife.”

“So what do you know about giving yourself to someone and being needed?”

Joel flashed his eyes to you. Gentle and filled with love, “I have a daughter. Sarah. She’s in college now. She’s quite literally the best thing that’s ever happened in my life,”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a father,”

“‘Cause I look so young?” He grinned and tightened one final screw. With the frame now positioned where it needed to be, he stood up and went back to your mattress. You scooted out of the way as he single-handedly maneuvered it onto the frame and adjusted it until it was just perfect. “Check it off the to-do list. Now you can get a good night’s sleep,”

You admired his work and it wasn’t lost on you that it only took him a third of the time it would’ve taken you. Before you’d even gotten through that realization, Joel had already passed you and had made his way back out to the hall, where he walked down it back toward your front door. You followed after him, remaining quiet as he picked up his pocket knife from where you’d left it and tucked it back into his pant pocket. His hand got to the doorknob and you still hadn’t spoken, so he was the one to bite the bullet.

“You know, I never got your name.”

Heat crept up your neck, trying to make a home in your cheeks, as you mentioned your name to him. He smiled and nodded but offered nothing more, so you figured it was still your turn. “Thanks for your help, Joel,”

“No problem,” he waved you off.

“Maybe if more guys were like you, I wouldn’t hate them so much,”

“Give it time. You’ll be back to yellin’ at me soon.” He opened the front door and took a step through it. “Give me a holler if you need something, you know where I live,”

“Will do,”

He started to close the door but then opened it again and poked his head through. “Make sure you lock the door this time,”

You pressed a smile and approached the door where he waited until your hand was on the knob. With one last quiet goodbye, he pulled the door shut and you followed it up by locking it. Then with little time to spare, you ran to the window in the living room to watch him walk away. He pressed his hands into his pockets and looked around. Then a smile stretched over his face and he kicked at the grass before he crossed the street and moseyed back to his house.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

could you do a pregnant reader x rafe

a/n: okay but that got my brain buzzing, so i simply had to get all the thoughts out in the form of headcannons (written right before i fell asleep, sorry if it shows)

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

okay, so picture this: he's the asshole frat boy, you're the cute college chick who unlike him is actually there for the education.

also, he's your ex...

you were only together for a few months, but still, that shit was intense, the relationship nearly broke you from all of the high highs and low lows

it was exhausting being in love with an asshole, hence why you're no longer together

he was totally the type of toxic boyfriend to only wanna fuck you without a condom, either by pressuring you or just straight up lying and then rolling the rubber right off either as soon as he got you into doggystyle or like halfway through when you were too cockdrunk to notice the difference.

so that might have been why a month or so after the two of you broke up, you were late...

i'm picturing that you finally took a test at the most chaotic moment: at the beginning of a party in a bathroom, your roommate doing a quick run to a pharmacy while drunk folks try to barge down the door.

when your roomie comes back, you're totally freaking out, full-on melt-down, while she sits on the counter beside the sink and tries to calm you down, thinking up other solutions to your symptoms.

but the damn stick shows you two lines.

you were pregnant.

"so are you gonna tell him?" your roomie asks you, but you're still on a completely different planet, trying to comprehend the result.

"huh?"

"rafe. are you gonna tell him? i mean, i assume that it's him, unless there's somebody else, in which, how dare you not spill."

"what? no, there's no one else. of course it's rafe's..."

"...so? are you gonna tell him?"

but you have no idea if you want to or even should. you don't even have the slightest idea what you might wanna do about it all, if you should keep the baby or not.

but timing really is a funny funny thing, because when you then decide to go home to process everything (because damn, now you can't stay at the party and celebrate the close call), you bump into none other then the man, the myth, the whore himself: rafe fucking cameron.

now, you're straight up crying at this point, just overwhelmed as fuck, so of course he doesn't let you just slip by without figuring out what in the fuck is going on, if there is some douchebag he needs to go beat up.

"there only douchebag you need to beat up is yourself," you spit out before you can stop the phrase.

"oh, come on, baby. you can't still be mad at me? it's been like a month."

"please, rafe... just let me go home..."

"no, not until you tell me what's wrong!"

and when you actually say it out loud, it's like the awful party music fades and the buzzing crowd around you disappears.

"i'm pregnant."

at first, he just stands there stunned, staring straight through you.

if he's holding a glass, then he definitely drops and smashes it on the ground.

but then he grabs your arm and wordlessly drags you with him, all the way up to his room.

that's when, in the dull quiet of his dark dorm room, that it really sinks in.

for a while he just stares at you, letting his eyes scan down your frame, surely imagining what you'd look like in a few months.

and then, out of the blue, he whispers, "marry me..."

"...what?"

"marry me," he utters with more confidence, "i know this isn't exactly how it should go, but babe... i still love you. i never stopped... let me take care of you, let me take care of our baby, let me give you the life we deserve. so what do you say? will you marry me?"

but you just stare back at him as if he's gone mad.

"...no."

your stomach starts to flip as you then see the first signs of rage flare up on his features, "what do you mean no?"

"rafe, i'm supposed to be finishing up my degree, being young and dumb, not getting knocked up by the last man i'd ever want to be forever stuck with."

of course he then totally pops off, pushes you into a corner, yelling, screaming, all the nine yards

saying all this stuff about how you should be grateful that he ever gave you his time of day in the first place, nevertheless get you pregnant with his kid.

sooo, me thinks the next steps in their story gets pretty dark, pretty fast....

we talking him taking you with him home to tannyhill because school is simply too stressful for you and the baby (in his opinion)

mayhaps he straight up locks you in a room and acts all nice, pretends that nothing is wrong with the way he handles it all

forced marriage? yes? no? yes.

him getting fucking FERAL when you start to show?

also him getting feral long before that, taking the chance to make sure you're really, totally, 100% pregnant, if you know what i mean (in other words: all of the creampies ever, just over and over again, fucking load after load deep inside of you + so so much cumplay)

and the ending? i imagine that one day, after your kid is born, you run away, baby in your arms and not much else.

you try and create a quiet little life for you and your child somewhere far away

but eventually (of course, just for the sake of ✨drama✨) he finds you...

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[mechaknight-98]

Unexpected Results (NSFW) Ft Nagyung

Authors note: the only thing unexpected was getting this finished so fast. I'll probably work on Hanni’s story next.

While Arin, and I were heading to the meet she asked me what I thought Jacob would like for his birthday coming up,

"Oh don't worry about that I already got his drinks, food, and present handled," Relieved Arin replied

"Good, I know when you're kept on top of things you overachieve. I just need to remind you,"

"Oh, you never have to remind me of friends. I always show out for them when I can," I replied which made Arin laugh.

“Hey babe can I ask you something?”

Jacob walked into the living room “Sure what is it Naggy?”

"Why did you invite Arin and Daizo? they are so gross" Nagyung whined.

Jacob laughed before "Daizo and Arin are my friends and while they may be "Gross", they are good company"

Nagyung sighed annoyed, "But Jakey they are obsessed with... that what did you call it?"

Jacob raised an eyebrow, "Holy Grail or Fighting Games?"

"The Holy Grail," Nagyung confirmed.

"Oh well yeah. Everyone needs friends who chase the Holy Grail. They show you where you're lacking," Jacob replied

"What?" Nagyung responded confused,

"Chasing the Holy Grail means chasing the impossible, both Arin and Daizo have impossibly large goals, which is probably why they work so well together, but I digress. They are chasing impossible goals for different reasons. For Daizo it is to see how far he can take himself in this world, and for Arin, it's to prove herself." Jacob explained. Nagyung nodded and then replied

"But why can't they be satisfied with what they have? They're successful and have a great love life and careers. What more could they want?" Jacob shrugged as he replied.

"I don't know but since everyone is going to be the late young lady I know what I want...you," Jacob said as he began to fondle his girlfriend's breasts while kissing her. He hated how he loved it whenever she got bratty like this and that her couldn't help himself.

"No babe our friends will be any minute," Nagyung whines.

"Oh babe but you know if you don't want me to fuck you silly then you shouldn't whine so much," Nagyung moaned as Jacob began to blow on her right ear.

Nagyung quivered at the action causing Jacob to swell with pride, "My breath just made you quiver imagine what my tongue could do," He said as he began to trail kisses down her body as he discarded more of her clothing on the way down.

"God you're so sexy," Jacob said as he lowered himself to her crotch removing her pants and panties in one move. Nagyung watched in elation as her boyfriend began to fervently eat her out. it was subtle at first. a consistent swirling of his tongue on her clit before he would dive in and out with his tongue.

"Let me ruin you, babe," Jacob said waiting for Nagyung to give him the green light.

Nagyung moaned at his ministrations before giving in, "Please ruin me," She cooed, and Jacob complied. He started with a very simple figure 8 lick around her clit while slowly thrusting into her pussy properly Nagyung loved the attention but she hated foreplay. She was very much a girl who once she got riled up needed her fucks quick fast and rough. So when she came from his oral she only thing had one thing to say she brought Jacob up to be eye level with her and said,

"Fuck me. Fuck me hard coward," in her aggressive and lusted state she rips Jacob's pants open and begins to beg for a creampie.

"Come on babe, Fill me up full my slutty pussy needs it," As Nagyung whines and begs in her bratty tone she shakes her ass and tits to try and entice Jacob to rail her. It works, and Jacob promptly says,

"Come here my favorite slut." Nagyung moans at the degradation she lived to hear Jacob's mean words to her. Her excitement causes her to pounce on him as she lets him defile her. his thrusts are wild and animalistic just the way Nagyung likes, "God yes fuck me with that monster dick," she says as her cunt stretches to accommodate its favorite guest.

"Jeez Naggy how are you always still so tight?" Jacob asks. Nagyung moans and says

"How are you always still so big,"

"Touche," Jacob responds before giving her time to adjust as he bottoms out inside of her. he begins to thrust with great vigor inside of her. Nagyung moans in ecstasy.

"Stop being such a pussy and rail me with that fat cock of yours," She demands and Jacob picks up the pact. He thrusts deep inside as he gropes her breast. Nagyung moans in elation as Jacob reams her tight cunt, "Yes, Yes, Yes, Fill my pussy." She says. Jacob nearing his end gives her three more intense pumps before unloading his cum inside her Nagyung is elated at being filled and fully satisfied. Jacob is still hungry for another round but the text from Bonsai saying, "We are 12 minutes out" kills that So the couple showers and gets ready to host their company.

As they are finishing up their cleaning Bonsai and Hyeju arrive followed by Tobi and Haseul with Arin and I coming in last.

About 65 minutes later the couple finishing up cooking lunch.

"Wow, you guys finally made it?" Nagyung said smiling. I gave a thumbs up and Bonsai explained how traffic was terrible for some weird reason.

Arin perked up, "It's mostly because of the rain and the impromptu K-pop festival going on in Hongdae."

"Wait really? (Bonsai turns to Haseul) Why wasn't the best group ARTMS invited," Bonsai said 

exaggeratedly. Haseul blushed and smiled as Arin and I both suppressed the urge to say "What are you talking about the best is obviously Oh My Girl,"

Bonsai noted our restraint and smiled, "You know it shows that there are still tickets and they're pretty cheap,"  

Arin and I looked at each other before we both said "So it's settled We are all going," The group nodded excitedly as we got up and began prepping for the Concert. We all ordered Tickets and then walked to the venue. On the way, Arin grabbed my hand, "What's up?" 

"Nothing just showing everyone who you belong to," She said with a possessive smile,

"Are you jealous?"

"No, I am not the Jealous type but what's mine is mine end of story," Arin said smiling. I smiled back before kissing her forehead.

"Blegh. You guys are so gross," Hyeju says as she notices we haven't moved for a bit. Arin rolls her eyes before grabbing my hand and having us catch up to the others.

We arrived at the festival and its insanely lively fantastic atmosphere despite the gloomy weather. Plenty of Alcohol for everyone except Arin, plus me, and several acts we were more than excited to see. We decided to start with H1-Key as they were the next act. (We probably should have gotten food in hindsight but it's not that big a deal.) As H1-Key performed many of their hits Arin and I danced to music, as did our friends (At one point Nagyung was twerking on Jacob which was always hilarious). when the weather dropped to a colder temperature we moved less to conserve heat but still sang along. Arin nestled herself in my jacket to stay warm due to our size difference. After that act, We decided to get food and stopped by the nearby Ramyeon place. We all congregated around a pretty big table which allowed us to stay near our partners but also be in decent positions to talk to everyone.

Arin put her hand in mine as we watched our friends. "So Daizo how much longer are you here for?" Haseul asked.

I looked to Tobi for confirmation he held up the number three letting me know I had three weeks left

"Oh three weeks left," I answered. Subtly I noticed Arin tightening her grip on me. I turn to her and clarify, "I will be back though,"

"Oh, when," Nagyung asked.

"Uh probably in the second half of the year, around September," I replied.  

Arin‘s grip softened, and I looked at her before saying, “Don't worry I'll be back,”

After we finished we went back to the festival and enjoyed the rest of the acts.

We got back from the impromptu festival around midnight I want to say, and on the way back to Jacob's place we were stopped by a lady, She stood at the precipe of a crosswalk. She is holding a massive sword and she says,

"If one of you can land a hit on me; I will give you a massive prize." My friends all look at each other and then at me to stop me but I'm already walking to the lady.

“So I just gotta land one hit?” I ask

“Yes,” the lady responds

“Any other rules? Stipulations?” I add

“Nope give it all you got,” the lady says with a pleased smile.

“Okay! Let's do it.” I reply. Arin grabs my hand and says

“Go get em,” I smile and reply

“God I love you,” Arin beams and I turn to the lady. I summon my spell sword and get in a combat-ready stance. The lady smiles before taking out a needle and syringe. She injects herself and I watch as her eyes begin to glow. I stand guard as she also gets ready. I blink and in an instant, she is at my throat. I block her blade and disarm her by throwing both our blades away.

Taking advantage of her staggered and uneven stance I grapple her and throw her to the ground. As she lands I get one quick strike to her arm. She smiles,

“A thief with honor.” the lady says as I help her up. I notice her skin is a magenta color and she only has one eye. She smiles at me before saying, “Congratulations,” and everything goes dark.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

My Found Family

I never grew up with the luxury of family. As an orphan, my childhood was lacking to say the least, and it left me jealous of any kid with caring fathers and siblings. That's why I had to find my family. Nobody's perfect, but with a little reconditioning, I've trained them to be exactly what I was looking for.

This guy is now my father...

"Breakfast is ready, boys!" I call, using my lower register like I'm supposed to, "Whoops! I mean bacon-fest!"

Guttural laughter comes from my stomach even though I don't find my joke that funny. Bad jokes like this have sort of become my personality lately. In fact, my whole life has transformed over the last couple days. A week ago, I would've never imagined myself strolling around my house in nothing but underwear and a robe! My standards for style seem to have vanished along with pretty much every other part of my old way of being.

It happened three days ago at a grocery store, when I ran into this guy in the produce section. He caught me examining avocados for ripeness and walked right up, beginning to talk like we'd known each other for years.

It was all a bit bizarre, but I found myself unable to turn away. He was explaining my life to myself. Well, not my life, but the one he wanted me to live, the one I was meant to live, and I hung on his every word. He was maybe six years younger than myself, but I was to be his new daddy. It was a role I was proud to fill.

"Here you are, son," I grin widely, unable to contain the feelings of pride I have as he walks into the room.

"Thanks, old man," he answers and grabs the plate gratefully.

For a moment, I stand there and stare. My heart beats for my boy as he tears apart the food I made for him. My paternal instincts have been working overtime lately. I can't help but love that boy with every fatherly fiber of my being.

It doesn't matter that I never wanted kids before. Previously, I'd wanted to remain a bachelor forever, but I have them now, and it couldn't feel more perfect.

With a content grin, I turn back to the sizzling bacon and think about my day. Things I used to hate were now what I looked forward to; mowing the lawn, washing the car, cleaning the gutters. I have a full day of work ahead of me to keep this house in tip top shape. Of course, I'll do it all with an ice cold beer in my hand. I never had a taste for the stuff, but my boy thinks I should grow a bit more of a gut.

I know what I say goes around here, but I could never say no to my favorite son...

I obviously have dad wrapped around my finger, but he's not the only member of this family. This next dude is my new big bro...

"Fuck yeah," I grunt and sniff up the ripe stench under my arm, "Smells like a real fuckin' man!"

I toss the barbell down, finishing a new personal record on the bench press and I couldn't feel more pumped. My tank top and sweat pants are drenched with sweat, but I love bein' a nasty gym rat: at least, I do now.

A week ago I was waiting tables at this fancy restaurant, when one of the customers got to talking with me. He was sitting alone and looked kinda sad, so I tried to be friendly and I'm sure glad I did! I got a whole new family out of it. He made me quit my job and move into this sweet place. Now I'm his big brother!

Of course, like all big bro's, I'm supposed to work out in the garage all day. I was never one for weights, but I couldn't imagine my life without them anymore. I like to push my limits and get all hot and sweaty. Then I march around the house flexing and farting all over the place. It's not the most refined thing in the world, but my bro explained to me how much I don't care about hygiene and all that crap.

"Wassup, little man," I call as he saunters in.

"Nothing much," he answers, staring at my arms while I show off my biceps.

"Alright, get out of my space. I'm tryin' to work out," I snarl, acting as tough as possible, "Do I need to wrestle you again to prove my point?"

I definitely didn't used to be like this. I used to be the most polite and approachable guy in the world, always chatting random people up, but that guy's gone. My bro got rid of him and his old family. This new family is the only one I'm interested in now, even if I'm not supposed to show it. I'm supposed to be muscular, rude, and gross. It's who I am now.

"Alright, I'll leave you to it," he replies, "You can wrestle me though."

"I will," I frown, flexing even harder, "And this time, I'll win!"

Whenever we wrestle, I always end up with the urge to let him win. It sucks because I could easily beat him, and I should put him in his place, but for some reason, I just know I have to let him win. He just deserves it I guess.

I give him an intense glare and then return to my weights. These arms aren't going to pump themselves...

My big bro always makes my legs quiver, but I love seeing how cocky he can get. Of course, he'll never out wrestle me no matter how big he gets. I programmed him to let me win. Just like I programmed the breadwinner of the bunch...

A short groan rumbles from my lips. For some reason, everything has been disappointing me lately: my sons, my husband, my job has all been leaving me grumpy and frustrated. Even the channels on the TV aggravate the living hell out of me. I have to fight the urge to chuck the remote across the room.

"How was your day, honey," my husband asks, walking into the room and handing me a beer.

"Great," I moan without any emotion.

Everything's been changing so fast lately, and I couldn't be more over it. I was married to my work, busting ass for years to get promotion after promotion, and I had a job I loved that paid extremely well. I couldn't be more happy, even if I was the only unmarried guy in the office. I didn't mind. I loved my bowling league and my solo trips to Vegas too much to settle down.

Then I met him, my son. Well, he wasn't my son at the time, but after talking, I quickly realized who he was and who I was to him. I'm the head of the household, the disciplinarian, the breadwinner. At least, that's who I've become.

"What's for dinner?" I grunt, peeling my eyes away from the TV.

Looking at my husband, odd feelings bubble up. I used to know him as my neighbor, a nice enough guy, but now I'm married to him. It all happened so fast. He's changed too recently, I think. The guy I knew a week ago would've never walked around all day in a robe and underwear.

His hand reaches out and holds my own, "Steak and potatoes if that's alright with you."

I grunt in agreement, turning back to the TV. My husband's presence stirs my cock to life, straining my member against my work slacks.

This is another new development.

Until now, I'd never had a gay bone in my body. In some ways, I still don't, but my son explained how I should feel about my husband. I should love him, I should be turned on by him, and I should get it on with him. He's right, I suppose.

"Hey, I could use a blow job before you get cooking," I gesture to the thick tent in my pants.

My husband pauses for a moment like he's unsure of what to do, but then it comes to him, "Of course, babe, but we need to be quiet. Both of our boys are home right now."

"Don't worry about it. If they walk in without knocking they'll get the belt," I snort as my husband gets on his knees in front of me.

"You shouldn't be so hard on-" before he can finish, I've shoved his face into my crotch.

Somehow, I know I can be rough with him, just like I can be rough with our sons. I'm the man of the house after all. Within seconds I'm grunting in pleasure while staring at the evening news broadcast. For some reason, I always find myself watching it and complaining about current events. It's just who I am now..

I grin, sneaking a peak at my two dad's going at it in the living room like the good little couple they are. My new family couldn't be more perfect, but no family is complete without the dog...

"Ruff!" I bark, gleefully scampering over to the bowl of food that was just placed on the floor.

Without hesitating, I shove my face into the bowl, sending the little pellets flying everywhere. They taste like cardboard, but for some reason, I can't get enough of them! I've done nothing but drool and whine for the last hour while the real humans eat their dinner at the table.

"That's a good boy," a voice coos, and I feel fingers running through the hair on my head.

I can barely acknowledge being petted. I know I'm supposed to act like a hungry animal right now, so that's what I do.

I would've never thought I'd find myself as a house pet, but a couple days ago, this guy just walked up to me and talked me into it. It'd just been a normal day for me, working at the car garage when he became my master. I knew right there and then that I had to drop to my hands and knees and follow him home with my tongue out.

My new life has been great ever since. My masters play ball with me outside, they hose me down when I get muddy, and they snuggle with me on the couch at night. I barely even miss my old work and fiance!

"Alright, boy," one of my master's commands, "That's enough. Get in here!"

It's the mean one. The one who used to own this house, but is now just a working dad. He's always the one who hits me with a newspaper when I drink from the toilet. I don't know why, but I just feel compelled to do it!

Licking the bowl clean, I abandon it and crawl into the living room. There, the entire family is gathered around the television.

I stop by the smelly one and sneak in a few licks. I love licking him because he's always salty with sweat and smells funny. After licking his feet for too long, he kicks me away, "Leave me alone, mutt!"

"Oh don't talk to him that way," the nice one adds.

I climb on the couch and curl up beside him. His belly is always the perfect cushion for my head to rest on, and he always lets me lick his beer bottle when he's done. Within a couple minutes, I'm drifting off as his hands absently play with my hair...

...sitting with my family at night is always my favorite part. Watching TV with my two dads, brother, and dog heals the child in me that had always yearned for this. Sure, it might be easier to just go to therapy, but this is sure as hell a lot more fun!

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Let It Snow

Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Summary: When the power goes out at the Facility, Pietro makes sure you’re keeping warm.

Note: Takes place in an “Everybody is alive and lives at the Avengers Facility” AU. Wanted to kick out one more Christmas/Winter imagine before getting into the New Year’s stuff.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 1.5k

Reader Is: Gender Neutral, an Avenger.

To be honest, you didn’t notice it at first, the slight chill in the air. You continued your work, typing away on the loud, typewriter-style keyboard on the fancy, expensive computer Bruce had built for you (with Tony’s money, of course).

And then it got…worse.

Your toes were numb and you were shivering, despite the long sleeves you were wearing.

You slid your feet into some slippers and walked out into the hallway, arms huddled around yourself as you wandered from your room, down the hall to where the thermostat was. You gave the up button a cursory press, waiting for the screen to blink to life and tell you what it was set to, but it didn’t.

Huh. Well, that was something, wasn’t it?

“(Y/N). Hello.” Vision materialized beside you, causing you to jolt in shock. “My apologies, I did not mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine, Vision. Do you know what this is all about?” You asked, shivering and motioning to the busted thermostat.

“It appears the furnace is broken. Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner are attempting repairs now, but it may take quite some time.”

“Oh. Gotcha.” You nodded, “Thanks for the info.”

“Of course. I do recommend you bundle up. It seems your body temperature is steadily decreasing.”

“Will do.” You saluted and pivoted on your heel, just in time to catch a face full of Pietro as he sped down the hall, sliding to a stop.

You ever so gracefully fell on the floor, staring up at him, disgruntled. “Nice one, Sonic.”

He chuckled, offering a hand, but you got up on your own, dusting yourself off. “What is the problem?”

“Furnace is busted.” You explained, patting his arm as you began walking away.

Pietro started walking backwards, keeping pace with you. “Where are you going?”

“To get into something warmer. Might be a while.”

One of his eyebrows quirked up. “Well, you know, I’ve heard skin to skin contact is the fastest way to warm up, if you need some help with that. I do have ‘improved homeostasis,’ as Banner puts it.”

“I’m good, thanks.” You deadpanned, shutting your door in his face. You could feel him lingering there for a moment before running back down the hall to his room, you presumed. You chuckled and rolled your eyes. Pietro was a flirt. Always had been. But things like this never worked out with people like him. Not in your experience, at least.

You changed into a cozy, zip-up onesie, feeling a lot warmer than before, especially with the hood over your head. You got back to your tying for a while. A few hours at least…until the lights went out.

“Great!” You threw your hands up, rolling away from the desk in your dark room.

In a huff, you stood up and walked to your window. It was a blizzard out there, inches and inches of snow on the ground. There was a knock on the door and whirled around to answer it. Part of you expected it to be Pietro standing there, but instead, it was Steve with a flashlight.

“Oh, hey. Is this because of the blizzard?”

“No, Tony says he snipped the wrong wire.” Steve shook his head. “Or something. Might be a while before it gets fixed.”

It was already getting late, and you were planning on going to sleep soon, but now, you weren’t so sure you should if you didn’t want to wake up a popsicle. “Okay, thanks for letting me know.”

You said, turning back to grab your phone and your water bottle to refill it before you figured out exactly what it was you should do in the meantime.

***

About an hour later, Pietro found you on the couch in the living room, shivering and reading a book by the light of a tiny, battery powered reading light. You were bundled up and, due to the lack of windows, you were pretty sure it was the warmest room in the facility. But as the temperature continued to drop, it didn’t seem to matter where you were.

“(Y/N), what are you doing in here?” He said, concern etched deep into his accented words. You met his eyes, wrought with worry and only offered a shaking shrug.

“I don’t want to g-go to sleep until the h-heat comes back on.”

He shook his head, crossing the room slowly for once, taking his time with each step. He sat beside you, not even bundled up beyond a hoodie and some sweatpants. For the first time in your life, you envied his powers. Carefully, giving you every opportunity to shove him off of you, he gently lifted your blanket, guided your book to the coffee table, and crawled on top of you, settling his body atop yours and sandwiching you between himself and the couch. He pulled the blanket back on top of the both of you, adjusting his head into the crook of your neck.

You were stiff at first, but at his warmth, you all but melted, eyes closing in bliss, your arms relaxing around him as you chased that feeling. His warmth. His scent, that sharp, woodsy cologne he was so infatuated with.

“Is this alright?” He asked, voice low and raspy.

You nodded, relaxing further into his hold, letting him warm you up. You pulled him closer, relishing in the feeling of your shivers slowly stopping. “Pietro…”

“I won’t say anything. The others don’t have to know.” He assured you, meeting your eyes before settling down again.

“I’m not too worried about that.” You whispered, suddenly overcome by it all. His proximity, his voice, the way his body felt melded against yours. It was right, what they said. Fitting like puzzle pieces.

“You’re not?” He asked, mischief at the edge of his tone. “Who are you and what have you done with (Y/N)?”

You scoffed. “You know, contrary to popular belief, I don’t dislike you, Pietro.”

“I don’t dislike you either.” He replied with a chuckle. “Kind of the opposite, in fact.”

Your heart picked up a quicker rhythm, cheeks flushing. You were kind of thankful the two of you were cuddled up in the dark. You hoped nightvision wasn’t one of his secret powers, or you were sure you’d never see the end of it.

“Please say something.” He murmured at the silence.

“You…”

“I thought it was obvious.” He muttered, words quick, flat at the edges.

You let another moment pass, choosing your words.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to—”

You touched his face with a cold hand, guiding his chin so you could attempt to look him in the eyes in the silvery rays of light streaming in the window. “I like you, too.”

He grinned, breath catching in his throat. “You mean it?”

“I have for a while.” You confessed. “Since that first training session when you bulldozed me on the track.”

“I did not bulldoze you!”

“I don’t know, I felt pretty bulldozed, laying there, flat on my back, feet knocked out from under me.”

He chuckled. “I was trying to impress you.”

“Mission accomplished.” You laughed at the way frustration crept into his words. “I could never forget about it. My very first week on the team and already, someone was out to get me.”

“Oh my God.” He rolled his eyes, the words sounding unsure on his tongue. He shook his head, gaze softening as he reached up, a careful hand brushing the hair out of your face. “Are you warmer now, drága?”

“Much.” You nodded, brushing the tip of your nose against his. “I do have another idea for warming up, though…”

He smirked. “Such as?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Please do.”

You rolled your eyes, and looped an arm around his neck, tugging him down to you and crushing your lips to his. He hummed in agreement, calloused fingers hooking your jaw, keeping you close as his kissed you tenderly, passionately, lips soft and perfect and experienced. He was the perfect distraction from the freezing room around you.

Then, suddenly, there was a loud thrum and the power kicked back on, bathing the room in light. You squinted, the appliances in the kitchen all beeping as they came back to life.

Pietro shielded his eyes with a hand, still hovering over you. You stared up at him for a long, quiet moment, still not entirely sure it had happened until he dipped back down and pressed a long kiss to your cheek, his stubble tickling your skin.

“Now let’s get you to bed, hmm?” He asked, helping you off of the couch as the facility gradually warmed back up. The two of you walked down the hall together and you yawned.

“What were you two doing down there?” Bucky asked, standing in his doorway. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“I was just letting (Y/N) know the heat was back on.” Pietro shrugged. “I am the quickest, you know.”

“Uh-huh. Right.” Bucky nodded, suspicious, but backing away into his room anyway.

You got to your door and stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Pietro. His hand grabbed at your waist, tugging you in for a kiss that you gladly returned. When you parted, you watched him speed down the hall, hoping that when you woke, it wouldn’t all be some sweet, winter dream.

[strangespector]

You Said You’d Be Here

Summary: Conflicting schedules, a broken promise and physical altercation that leads to disaster

Words: 1013

TW: Slight violence that happens by accident. Nothing major, but you have been warned.

Falling in love with Jenna Ortega was like stepping into a dream. I met her at a small meet and greet session for her book launch, in a dimly lit café. We hit it off immediately, our chemistry undeniable. The early days of our relationship were filled with laughter, late-night conversations, and stolen kisses. Jenna was everything I had ever wanted—talented, kind, and full of life.

However, as her fame grew, so did the demands on her time. She was constantly traveling, recording, and performing. The time we once had for each other dwindled, replaced by hurried phone calls and fleeting text messages. I tried to be supportive, understanding that this was her dream, but it was hard not to feel left behind.

Our first big fight happened after she missed my birthday. She had promised she would be there, but a last-minute opportunity to perform at a high-profile event came up, and she couldn’t turn it down. I spent the evening alone, my heart aching with disappointment. When she called to apologize, I couldn’t hide my hurt.

“You said you’d be here, Jenna,” I said, my voice trembling. “I know your career is important, but so is our relationship.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, sounding exhausted. “I didn’t want to miss it, but you know how important this performance was.”

“It feels like I’m not a priority anymore,” I confessed. “Like I’m always coming second to your career.”

Her silence spoke volumes, and I knew then that things would only get harder.

The fights became more frequent. I resented her growing fame and the way it seemed to pull her further away from me. She, in turn, felt trapped between her love for me and her passion for her career. The tension between us grew unbearable, and we found ourselves arguing over the smallest things.

One night, after a particularly heated argument, things escalated to a level I never imagined. Jenna had just returned from a press tour, and I had planned a special dinner to welcome her back. She arrived late, visibly tired and irritable. When I tried to express my feelings, she snapped.

“You don’t understand!” she yelled, her eyes flashing with frustration. “I’m doing this for us, for our future!”

I tried to stay calm, but my own frustration was bubbling up. “It doesn’t feel like it! It feels like you’re doing it for yourself, and I’m just an afterthought!”

Jenna’s face twisted in anger. Without warning, she grabbed a heavy candle holder from the table and hurled it at me. I barely had time to react, and it struck me on the forehead. Pain exploded through my skull, and I stumbled back, feeling something warm and wet trickle down my face. Blood.

Jenna's face immediately changed from anger to horror. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice shaking as she rushed toward me. “I didn’t mean to—”

I held up a hand to stop her, my vision blurring. “Just... just stay away from me,” I managed to say, my voice cracking. I couldn’t look at her. The betrayal, the physical pain, and the emotional wound were too much to bear.

I went to the bathroom, dabbing at the cut with a wet towel, trying to stop the bleeding. Jenna stood at the door, tears streaming down her face. “Please, let me help,” she pleaded.

I shook my head, unable to meet her eyes. “No, Jenna. This... this is too much. I need to go.”

Her sobs followed me as I left the house, my heart breaking with every step. The realization that our love had turned toxic was undeniable. I knew then that we couldn’t continue like this. The break turned into a breakup, and just like that, our relationship was over. The heartache was overwhelming, and for weeks, I struggled to move on.

But time, as it always does, began to heal my wounds. I started focusing on myself, rediscovering passions and hobbies I had neglected. Slowly, I began to find joy in the little things again. It was during this time that I met Sabrina Carpenter.

Sabrina was different from Jenna in so many ways. She was grounded, attentive, and genuinely interested in spending time together. We connected on a deeper level, our relationship built on mutual respect and understanding. Sabrina helped me realize that while Jenna had been a significant part of my life, she wasn’t the only source of happiness.

One evening, as Sabrina and I sat on the porch watching the sunset, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. I had loved and lost, but I had also grown and found love again. Jenna would always hold a special place in my heart, but I knew now that moving on was the best thing I could have done for myself.

Years later, I ran into Jenna at a charity event. She looked as stunning as ever, her presence still magnetic. We exchanged pleasantries, and it wasn’t long before the conversation turned personal.

“I’ve missed you,” she admitted, her eyes filled with regret. “I didn’t realize what I had until it was gone. I wish things had turned out differently between us.”

I felt a pang of sadness, but also a sense of closure. “We both had to follow our own paths,” I said gently. “I’ll always cherish the time we had, but I’ve moved on. I’m happy now.”

Jenna nodded, a bittersweet smile on her lips. “I’m glad you found happiness. You deserve it.”

As Sabrina joined me, her presence a comforting reminder of the life I had built, I introduced her to Jenna. There was no jealousy, no lingering heartache—just a sense of acceptance and peace. We had all grown in our own ways, and while our paths had diverged, they had led us to where we were meant to be.

Sabrina turned to me and smiled, her eyes filled with warmth. “You know, I’m really glad we found each other,” she said softly.

“Me too,” I replied, squeezing her hand. “Me too.”