#the notes have some funny some not so funny but i'm very hung up on this karl marx mpreg and so are dozens of other people

[myownwholewildworld]

THE RIGHT KIND OF WRONG ― dbf!mechanic!joel oneshot

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3 pairing: dbf!mechanic!joel x f!reader. summary: your car breaks down and you make a deal with your dad's best friend, joel, who happens to be the best mechanic in town. you'll work for him over the summer holidays to pay your debt back, but maybe you can find a pleasant shortcut to it? a/n: well, well, well... what can i say? this whole uniformed!joel shit is giving me proper brain rot. i don't know what came over me while writing this but i just rolled with it. i do appreciate any notes you may wanna leave to keep me motivated hehe. enjoy! x warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. juicy age gap (reader is 21, joel is 48). rough, ABSOLUTE filth & i'm not even sorry. some edging. semi-public groping? masturbation (f and m receiving). oral (f and m receiving). pussy pronouns (she/her). unprotected piv. mouth fucking. very mild brat taming kink. transactional sex. alternating pov. reader is female but that's about it. w/c: ~8.9k of pure filth. divider by @cafekitsune

“Ugh, not again, c’mon!”

Your cranky little car did not have it in it anymore. It was almost fifteen years old now, having passed down from your older brother to you when you turned sixteen five years ago. Out of pure frustration, you hit the steering wheel with the palm of your hand and let out a raspy grunt.

The check engine light had lit up on the dash, which was what caused your fit. And then, as if orchestrated by the universe, the engine made a loud, clicking noise. You flattened your forehead against the wheel, your fingers curling around the rubbery texture with a tight grip.

“You stupid car!”, you screamed at it as if it was a sentient being. “I’m broke, you cannot die on me like this!”

You were on the parking lot of a café. Early that afternoon you had met with some friends to celebrate the beginning of summer and the end of the academic year. One more and you would be done with your degree ― it looked so damn far away, but you still had this summer to look forward to.

Rummaging through your purse, you finally located your cellphone and quickly dialled your dad.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, dad. I’m at Betty’s. The fucking light has come on again?!”

“Watch your mouth!”, he reprimanded you from the other side of the line. You could hear him huff and puff with disapproval. “I think your car is on its last legs, gonna have to think about buying one.”

“You know I can’t afford that, all my savings are going into my degree. I’ll just have to get it fixed for now.”

“Take it to Joel’s then. See what he thinks.”

“But it’s a Sunday, you think he’ll be open?”

“That man is a workaholic, you bet his business is open today.”

“Alright, you reckon he’ll do it for free?”

“For free?” He laughed; you could imagine him shaking his head. “I doubt it, but maybe he’ll give you a discount. Gotta go, little bug. I’ll see you at dinner. If you can make it, obviously.” He mocked you.

“Ha, ha… So funny. Talk to you later.” And you hung up.

The drive to Joel’s garage was a fucking torture. Every time the engine made a squealing noise, your heart would jolt to your throat. You tried to encourage it, whispering sweet nothings in the hopes it would get appeased and make it to Joel’s repair shop.

You also got distracted by your filthy mind. Joel had been in your DILF radar since you were nineteen. Three years ago, your dad celebrated his 45th birthday with a barbecue in the middle of summer. Joel had turned up in a white tee shirt, khaki shorts and flipflops, with untamed silvery curls and a crate of beer under his arm.

When the Texan heat became unbearable, he had stripped himself of his clothes, fashioning a pair of short swim trunks that had left you breathless and wet. When you watched him get out of the water later that afternoon, you could have sworn that the tip of his dick had shown briefly before he discreetly tucked it away. That image had been burnt into your retinas and haunted you since then.

Unconsciously you licked your bottom lip, your core molten with slick, as the car came to a halt. You had arrived at your destination.

There was an old Ford at the front of the garage, someone working under the hood. When the driver’s door of your car slammed against the frame, Joel peeked up from the engine he was working on.

His eyes flickered with recognition. He grabbed an old rag to clean his big, veiny hands of grease and oil. You wondered what else would be big and veiny. Stop it, you dirty fucker, you told yourself.

“Hey, Joel!” You waved at him with a smile.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

You rolled your eyes at him, the grin staying on your plump lips.

“I’m not a kid anymore, Joel. Have not been for a long time now, y’know.” You punctuated, unsure of what you were trying to achieve with that comment. Well, you knew, but did not want to admit it to yourself.

“Oh, I know”, he husked, his voice suddenly gruff.

Tilting your head to one side, you looked at him with question marks in your pupils. Why had he accentuated that “know”? And why all the sudden was your cunt gushing? How could he make you wet with three simple words? You were going to need to request a booty call that night from your friend with benefits.

“Uh, uhmm”, you laughed nervously. “The engine light on my car has come on for the third time this week and the motor is making weird noises, could you check it out for me, please?”

“Sure thing, lemme see.” He took the keys from your hand, electricity cracking between you.

You pursed your lips, a gesture he did not pick up on. Joel walked to the driver’s side, activated something and then the hood popped open. He walked around to the front of the car and propped the hood up with the metal rod that was inside.

As Joel was inspecting the motor with his broad hands, you put one foot in front of the other in a vain attempt to rub your knees together and cause some friction in your needy cunt. You squeezed your thighs some more as you watched him work with his hands, and you imagined what it would feel like if he was working you instead.

Oof! Take it down a notch, girl, you thought to yourself when your clit twitched in desperation.

Then Joel turned around to look at you.

“When was the last time you changed the timing belt?”

“The... what now?” Your mind was hazy with lust, but even if you had been at your full mental capacity, you wouldn’t have known what he was talking about.

“The timing belt. In the engine. What ensures that the camshaft and crankshaft rotate in sync?” He looked at you with a cocked brow, cleaning his hands again on that old rag.

Oh, I would pay big bucks to be that rag.

“Are you even speaking English?”, you replied back, partially because you really had no idea what he was talking about, partially because your brain was all mushy with desire.

“I’ll take that as a ‘never’ then. You should really get it replaced, seems like that’s your problem. Have you had trouble starting the car?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, this very morning.”

“Yeah, sounds like it. You need to change it asap, if it breaks while you’re driving it would be bad, very bad. You could have an accident. Also trying to fix it after it’s broken will cost you even more.”

“So… will I need to break the bank?” You asked, already flinching at the idea.

Joel seemed to take a second to consider your options, leaning against the passenger’s door and scratching his scruffy beard.

“It’ll be $800.”

Your heart almost stopped, your mouth agape.

“Eight fucking hundred?” He nodded. “Well, can I― Can you not give me a bit of a discount here? You are best friends with my dad. Pretty please?” You laced your fingers together in a prayer and batted your eyelashes at him.

With a low grunt, he straightened his back and folded arms at his chest.

“I’m already giving you one. I would usually charge $1100. You’re already getting a bargain.”

“Well, what about $300?” You counteroffered.

Joel’s brows knitted together and then loudly scoffed.

“What? You think I’m a fucking charity? No, kiddo. $800 and that’s it. If I go any lower, I’d be losing money. Got a business to run here.”

You really did not have $800 bucks to spare. In fact, you barely had five hundred bucks to your name. Asking your family for money was not an option either ― not because you were proud (you were), but because money was tight. Your parents already had enough struggles as it was, you did not want to add to the pile.

You visibly pouted and stumped one foot against the gravel, vexed. A loud sigh slipped through your lips as you pressed the heel of your hands against your eye sockets. You needed the car.

Dropping your hands to your sides, you looked at Joel with puppy eyes, covering the distance that was between you. Pleading, you palmed his strong forearm, your fingers wrapping around the girth of his muscles.

For a brief second, you wondered if you would be able to fully grip his erection. Would your fingertips be able to touch your thumb? Or would he be so thick you would need both hands to handle him?

“Joel, pl―please?”, you stammered, your arousal playing games with your vocal cords.

Unwillingly, he scanned your body up and down ― slowly, taking his time, pondering his options.

Joel had wanted to fuck you for three years now, since your lustful eyes widened at the sight of only his tip on that dreadful summer day. He could vividly remember the way you had chewed your bottom lip as you watched him slide his cock back in his swim trunks, shamelessly, without blinking. You only stopped devouring him when someone talked to you, snapping out of your trance.

That night, when he got home, he had jerked himself off with you in his mind. He had imagined your plump lips sealed around his glans, the tip of your tongue playfully caressing the slit ― your sparkly eyes looking up at him, dreamy and teary, imploring. He had taken his sweet time, rejoicing in his fantasy, until he had spilled in the palm of his hand, as if he was a hormonal teenager. And every time he would fuck someone to find relief, he would visualize your cunt sheathing him, clamping down on his dick like a beartrap.

Ever since then, every time his eyes landed on you, his blood would boil and his cock would harden. Just like now, dick pounding against his boxers, begging to be paid due attention. With the eyes of his imagination, he saw himself letting go and throwing you into the back of your car, drilling your pussy relentlessly until you came wailing, asking for more.

Joel sucked in his breath ― he needed to calm down, distract himself with something else. You were his best friend’s daughter. He shouldn’t be daydreaming about fucking you stupid. He had seen you grow since you were a babe.

Never thought of you any other way until that fateful barbeque, when he realised you were a full grown ass woman. Suddenly he had seen you for what you were: a fuckable brat who could get his cock rock-hard with the simple lick a of a lip.

An idea formed as you begged him. You looked desperate ― desperate enough to him at least.

Joel cracked his tongue, his expression unwavering. But if you could see, you would know his cock was throbbing already.

“Well. I do have an idea.” His words dragged, his erection making him feel uncomfortable.

“You do? I’m all ears!” You exclaimed with a lopsided grin, your delicate fingers tighter around his forearm.

His head snapped to his right, pointing to a sign that read “Hand Car Wash”.

“If you help out all summer handwashing cars, I’ll consider part of your debt paid”, he explained, looking down at your hand touching him.

“In full?” You eyed him as if he was your goddamn saviour and that unsettled him.

“I said part of it, kiddo. I’ll leave it at $300.”

You batted your eyelashes at him. Did you know that your suggestiveness was wreaking havoc?

“Anything I can do so the $300 reduces to zero?”

“I’ll think about it”, he reluctantly conceded. Joel had a few ideas in mind, but none of them were precisely appropriate. Not for a twenty-one year old to do with a forty-eight year old at least, that was for sure. “Be here tomorrow at 9 AM, sharp. The team works from nine to twelve, Mondays to Fridays.”

You frantically nodded, almost squealing in excitement. The noise you made forced his cock to twitch. He could make you squeal too, only if you would let him.

“I’ll be here! Thanks, Joel.”

Before he could think, you let go of his forearm and hugged him close to your chest. To your round breasts. Those two meaty globes he wanted to palm so badly. He could swear your nipples were stabbing at him. You embraced him so close to your body, his bulge pressed gently against your lower belly, and he wondered if you could feel him.

And then you stepped back. Quickly, too quickly for his liking.

“You’ll need to leave your car here, don’t want you driving back in that junk. I’ll have a look at it tomorrow. I’ll give you a lift back”, he offered. “Lemme close first and I’ll be right back in five minutes.”

“No probs, take your time.” You smiled at him as you went back to your car to grab your things.

Soon you were on the passenger’s seat of Joel’s pickup truck. It was dusking on the horizon, the light scattering through the windshield. Joel put down the visor so he wouldn’t get blinded by the sun.

“So how’s college going?” His attempt at small talk made you smile.

“It’s good, hard but good. The first year was really bad though. I didn’t know anyone there, so had to make friends and everything.” You mentioned, shrugging, while mindlessly playing with your seatbelt.

“I’m sure you had no problems making friends”, Joel said distractedly, checking all the mirrors before turning at the streetlight.

You placed your elbow on the window frame, the back of your head resting on your palm, and you turned to look at him.

“How are you so sure?” You asked, curious to see what his take on you was. The man was like a brick wall.

“You’re so vivacious and talkative. You’re not the shy kind either, always were part of the popular group in high school, weren’t you?” You nodded, but he didn’t see you, all focused on the road ahead. “Bet’cha you have all the boys running after you.”

Well, that was unexpected. For both you and him, because you saw how his jaw clenched. It was almost imperceptible, but you were so aware of his every move, your body so in tune with his, you couldn’t have missed it.

Had he noticed you? Like, actually? Was it possible that Joel fucking Miller, your freaking dad’s best friend, could look at you with other than paternal eyes? Why would he make hat comment otherwise?

Your cunt, still wet from your previous innocent interaction, fluttered. You had no butterflies in your stomach ― they were actually clapping their fragile wings in between your legs. This man was a fucking menace to your senses, and he seemed oblivious to the effect he had on you. Or did he? Time to find out.

You giggled at his question and patted his upper thigh a couple of times, as if he had cracked the best joke you had ever heard. The pad of your fingers almost caressed his groin, that sweet dip where his thigh met his pelvis. The denim under your touch suddenly stretched as Joel flexed his leg, trying to release the tension that had rapidly built up.

You bit your bottom lip as he peered at you askance, your hand still too close to his crotch.

“I actually do, but none of them seem good enough, y’know? I want a man, not a boy”, you ventured, your top teeth sinking further in the soft pillow of your bottom lip.

You saw Joel sucking in his breath ― and the grin in your face grew. He was definitely not immune to you, at least not as much as you had originally thought. He looked so unattainable, always so distant, you had wondered if, in his eyes, you had never grown up.

“Do you now, kiddo?” He asked between gritted teeth, tone throaty.

His brown eyes drifted down for one second, watching the tips of your fingers rubbing the denim of his jeans slightly, and then he locked them back on the road. You heard a low grunt vibrating in his throat, although he tried his best to suppress it.

“Yeah. I’m sick and tired of stupid childish boys. They are just boring now, they lack― well, you know.” You let him brew with your unfinished sentence and removed your hand from his lap.

You could tell Joel finally was able to breathe again as his chest expanded slowly. His reaction to you left a prickling sensation in your pussy ― wet, throbbing, needy. You pressed your knees together, but what you really wanted was for him to reach for you and dunk his thick fingers in your slit.

“Your dad’s there.” He stated, succinct, after clearing his throat.

You looked over your shoulder and through the window to realise that, in fact, you had arrived home. Your father was already waiting for you on the porch, probably because he recognised the noise of Joel’s truck’s exhaust pipe. And then he started walking towards you.

You suppressed a pouting grimace ― you wanted just a few more minutes alone with Joel. A few more moves and, who knew? Maybe you would have him fingering the shit out of you. But thanks to your father, you would never find out.

Your father knocked on the passenger’s window and you rolled it down, smiling. Although what you really wanted to do was smack him for interrupting.

“Hey, dad.”

“Hey, sweetie. How’s the car?”

“Well…” You looked at Joel ― you had already forgotten what was it that needed replacing.

“The timing belt is going. Bit expensive but your daughter and I have reached an agreement. Will reduce the price for her but she’s gotta come work on the hand-wash business”, he explained, matter-of-factly.

“Sounds ‘bout right. Get your first taste of what the real world is like.” Your dad laughed at his own occurrence, while your mind drifted far, very far.

“I’d love to get a taste.” You answered feigning innocence, turning your face to Joel with a very wide smile painted on your mouth.

His eyes darkened, transfixed on yours. Oh, he knew exactly what you meant. He subtly stirred on his seat and you wanted to giggle so bad, but refrained.

“Hey, Joel. There’s a game on tomorrow night. You wanna come over? Can have something to eat, few beers, will be fun. I need the company, God knows this lady over here just complains while scrolling through her social media”, he pointed towards you with his thumb and you simply rolled your eyes at him.

Watching football with your old man was as boring as it got. However, if Joel Miller was there, he would have your undivided attention. Well, not him, the screen, obviously. Duh.

Your eyes shot to his, expectant. Your cunt was even more anticipative of his answer.

“Yeah, why not?”

Famous last words. That was Joel’s only thought as soon as he entered his best friend’s home. You greeted him at the door, all smiley and welcoming, ignoring the fact that you had been trying to get him hard the. whole. fucking. day.

You had come to work with some very short jeans ― every time you bent down to rub the sponge on the car’s bodywork, the bottom part of your perfectly round ass cheeks would show beneath the denim. Did you even wear any underwear? He thought not.

And then that white crop top was the fucking end of him. You had gotten it all wet when a loaded sponge dripped all over your front while you were talking to him about some trivial thing he could no longer remember. You had tittered and apologised while you scrunched it to get as much water out as possible. And the only thing he had been able to focus on were your pointy nipples, staring right at him, screaming for his caress.

After that, he had been at full mast the whole damn shift.

“Hi, Joel, come in!” You greeted him excitedly, swinging the door open.

He had taken a cold shower before coming over, but maybe what he needed was a fucking ice bath. Because the moment you batted your eyelashes at him, his cock twitched again. Joel had fisted his dick while showering, in the hopes that emptying his nuts before seeing you again would placate his lust for you.

Nope, hadn’t worked. Not one bit. This was probably a bad idea.

“Hey, kiddo.” He greeted you, emphasizing the last word.

He could literally be your fucking father, but that did not seem to deter you. If anything, it spurred you on. Had you no shame? Had he no shame? Because he should have stopped you the moment you started to be suggestive. Instead, he had let you go on, enjoying every single second of it.

Joel walked in and made his way to the kitchen, with you on his heels, where your father was lathering up some ribs with his secret sauce recipe.

“Hey, Joel. Let me get that from you”, he said before cleaning his hands on a kitchen towel and grabbing the beer crate from him.

Feeling they were still cold, his best friend cracked two open and handed him one. Joel lifted the can to his lips and saw you looking at him from the corner of his eye.

“Want one?” he asked, since you were of legal drinking age.

You shook your head no, wrinkling your nose in disgust.

“Eww, nah. I hate beer”, you sniggered and his dick spasmed some more.

“‘Course you do”, said your father before he could reply. “You only drink― What’s that crap again?”

“Gin and tonic, dad. It’s literally gin and tonic mixed. It’s not that fancy.” You huffed and puffed, shaking your head.

“This youth mixing everything because they can’t have proper alcohol. What’s next? Mixing beer with lemonade or something like that?”

“Well, that’s actually a thing. It’s called a shandy. Don’t be so old.”

Joel let you two have a go at each other. Observing the exchange, he sat down on one of the stools in front of the island, knees slightly bent.

“What?! You listening to this, Joel?” You father exclaimed with a joking tone. “Is Sarah like this too?”

“Yeah, exactly like this. Thinks beer is disgusting and everything. Thought I raised her better than that, but apparently not.” He jested, sipping from the tin can.

“How’s she doing?” His friend asked.

“She’s fine. She’s turning twenty-four in a couple of weeks. She moved out two months ago, gone to Houston for her new job.” He couldn’t help but be proud of his Sarah. She had accomplished so much. “She’s supposed to be here for her birthday, but we’ll see. She’s always so busy, don’t really know with what.”

“Aren’t they all? I barely see this one over here and she still lives under my roof.”

You folded arms, rolling your eyes again, while you sat down beside Joel on another stool.

“Sorry for having a social life? Like, what do you want me to do? Stay here with you watching football? Got better things to do, dad.”

“So you ain’t staying tonight then?” Your dad asked.

Joel turned to study you, interested in your answer. Could he have some reprieve tonight?

“Of course I’m stayin’. Would be rude not to when we have guests over, right, Joel?” And as the last words abandoned your mouth, you placed your left hand on his right thigh under the counter.

God have mercy.

Joel’s muscles stiffened, one in particular more than the others. His thighs were tense as he gripped the beer can with more strength than what was necessary. He kept his eyes to the front, taming his breathing.

He should have done something, slapping your hand away from his lap for instance. But he didn’t. And you took that as an invitation, because soon enough you were kneading his bulge under the kitchen island. Your palm rubbed harshly against the denim, and he saw you chewing your bottom lip.

Your father busied himself with seasoning the ribs and the French fries, oblivious to what was happening just a few meters away from him. This feels fucking wrong, but so fucking good, Joel thought to himself, your hand frisking his groin brazenly.

His cock was thudding with desire under his clothing, begging to be freed from its prison. You sensed his desperation, because you quickly tried to clasp your hand around it. Feeling your frustration at the inability of fisting him properly, Joel parted his legs to give you better access. If that was not an open invitation, nothing was.

I’m already going to hell. Joel had to stop himself of sucking his breath in when you started to unzip his jeans. His eyes slightly widened, but that was his only tell.

“So who do you reckon is going to win tonight?” Your father asked as your fingers dipped underneath his boxers.

Your warm skin against his beating cock dulled his senses. Then you took his dick out of his boxers and attempted to circle his girth while working him. Joel had to drink from his beer to shut himself up.

“Not sure, but I’d like for the Longhorns to win”, he spat the words out as best he could given the circumstances.

“Yeah, would be nice seeing our hometown win something this season”, your father continued with the small talk.

Joel’s thighs flexed when you started pumping him decisively. Fuck. He briefly looked down at his erection. It felt too damn good, your tiny fingers gripping him hard as you slowly moved your hand up and down on his lap. The tip of his cock was glistening with precum and you expertly rubbed it on his foreskin with your thumb.

As your father turned around to put everything in the oven, Joel took the chance to look at you. With your gaze averted, you pretended there was something interesting in the wall in front of you, while your right hand was buried underneath your slutty denim shorts. Joel could swear he could hear the squelching sounds your pussy was making while you played with yourself.

“Right, I think this is it. Gotta wait for an hour until everything’s properly cooked. Wanna move to the family room in the meantime?” He happily chattered as he walked around the kitchen island.

You reacted quickly and let go of his shaft. With his lap right under the kitchen counter, Joel hoped to hell his friend would not see anything out of the ordinary.

“Yeah”, he said with a coarse voice. “Need to go to the bathroom first.”

Your father just nodded as he sauntered towards the living room and Joel almost let go a sigh of relief. You simply chortled as you put your left thumb in your mouth, making it obvious that you were tasting his precum.

Joel’s cock jerked on his lap as he whispered a blasphemy. Quickly he tucked away his painful dick back in his boxers and zipped his jeans as he stood up. Then he retreated to the bathroom, needing a fucking moment to find his composure again.

Until he heard you.

“Gonna go get my phone charger, be back in a jiffy!”

Before Joel could close the door behind him, you slipped your hand in the door gap to stop him from shutting it. You caught him off guard, because he stepped back, brows knitting when he saw you under the door frame.

“What’cha doing?”, he questioned you.

You could feel the rigidity radiating from him. You entered the small bathroom and silently closed the door behind you, both of your hands holding onto the doorknob on your back.

“I came to finish what I started.”

You didn’t give him time to think ― if you did, you knew he would put an end to this. You were too turned on, your cunt beating every time your heart did. Your pussy lips were all wet and puffy ― you could feel your slick trapped between your folds, almost seeping into your panties. You had unleashed the beast and wanted it all for yourself.

So you threw yourself into Joel’s chest, your teeth softly scratching his Adam’s apple as one of your hands found its way back to his cock. He tilted his chin up and groaned at your touch. His pounding dick felt warm and velvety against your palm, so hard from working him under the kitchen counter a minute before.

Once he opened his eyes again, he looked down at you as you gripped his erection with both hands. Slowly you jerked him off, feeling powerful with him on the palm of your hands. Every time you pumped him, your clit would twitch in response. He had not touched you yet and your pussy was already palpitating for him. You could not wait to feel him inside you, stuffing you full.

 “We shouldn’t, your father is right there―”

You could not care less. And to make it evident, you sunk to your knees in front of him, still holding his cock, now at eye level.

Your tongue darted out and you leaned his dick forward until the rip rested flat against your tongue, your hands still working his veiny shaft.

“You were saying?” You asked before briefly pecking his glans.

“Fuck”, was the only thing he managed to mumble.

That was your cue to give free rein to your lust. You nudged his column with the tip of your nose as your mouth drifted down to kiss his balls. Then your tongue slid out in its full extension, and you flattened it against the underside of his cock, slowly lapping at it until you reached the top and sealed your lips around his mushroom head.

Glancing up at him, you saw pleasure softening his features as you took him in further and further down, until his cock reached the natural resistance at the end of your throat. When his tip bottomed out in your mouth, Joel’s eyes found yours. His jaw visibly clenched at the sight of you kneeling in front of him, cock burrowed in between your lips, tears gathering on your bottom eyelids because of how his dick was outstretching you.

You moaned as Joel pulled his hips back, his shaft leaving your wet cavity, now full of precum and saliva. You swallowed to make room as you avidly tipped your head towards him, your lips hunting down his dick again. Slurping so you wouldn’t drown in fluids, you ate his cock like if it was the last edible thing on earth.

At that moment, something shifted in the air. As if Joel, finally, let go of his prejudices and accepted what you were giving him: your mouth to use as he pleased. His fingers hovered over your temples and then they clamped down on your skull as he held you in place.

“Stay still”, he commanded, and you nodded, his cock sitting snugly in your mouth.

His hips moved back and then forward, rocking his dick in and out of your lips. First slow, then picking up a pace. You stayed put throughout while he fucked your mouth mercilessly, palms against your knees like the good girl you were. Then his glans breached your uvula and you inevitably gagged at the intrusion.

He forced you to remain still as he tried to go further down, but there was nowhere for him to go. Your eyes welled up while you fought back the need to cough, almost unable to breathe.

Joel snapped his hips back and your mouth became free. You started panting while trying to catch a breath. Joel cupped your chin up so you would look at him. His sly grin told you he was enjoying himself a bit too much.

“Can tell you’ve not eaten many cocks, have you? Despite pretending to be this slutty brat in front of everyone, hm?” He asked, his voice rumbling in his chest.

“Well, I―” He didn’t let you finish the sentence because as soon as you opened your mouth, he slotted his dick back in between your plump lips.

“I actually don’t wanna hear it.”

Inevitably your cunt gushed at his roughness. He was right though ― you had only given head to two guys before and their cocks did not measure up to his. Your jaw had actually started to hurt now due to the effort you were making to house his dick in your mouth.

Joel quickly resumed his pounding, fucking your mouth relentlessly ― his hips swaying back and forth in front of you.

“Sweetie! Can you bring my charger too please?” Your father’s question forced both of you to snap out of the sexual haziness you both were feeling.

You two froze in place, Joel’s cock still in your mouth.

“Or I can come get it.” Then you heard his booted steps coming up the corridor.

In a panic, Joel stumbled back and you sprang to your feet, eyes widened with fear.

“No! Don’t worry! I’m coming!” You shouted back, hoping that your voice sounded far away enough to him.

The steps stopped and you both listened to him walking back to the living room. “Thank you, sweetie!”

You turned to look at Joel, who had grabbed a bunch of toilet roll to clean off the mess on his still throbbing cock.

“Joel, I’m sorry, b―”

“Just go before he changes his mind and comes looking for you”, his voice was strained with effort. His erection had to be painful by now without any relief.

But he was right. You couldn’t risk it. Neither of you could. So with apologetic eyes, you slithered out the bathroom door and ran to your room to snatch a couple of phone chargers.

Fucking torture that was.

Joel had never been in a worse position than that. Sat on the couch with you, your father on the recliner just a couple of meters away ― and his dick still pulsating, his balls full of unspent cum. His cock would writhe in his boxers, asking for a relief that never came. He was in excruciating pain and was not able to concentrate at all. All the small talk your father did went over his head, didn’t pay attention to the TV’s commentary either.

From time to time, you would graze his thigh lightly ― and on one occasion you slid your naughty hand towards his groin. Luckily the living room was dark, the TV being the only source of light, so your father didn’t pay much attention to your provocations. You quietly kneaded his bulge, curling your fingers around his erection underneath, and it got to a point where Joel had to force your hand away, because he was too close to coming.

So, when he waved you both goodbye and got into his truck, he could literally not wait to get home. Under the dim light of the lampposts that filtered through the windows into the truck’s cabin, Joel freed his aching dick and fisted it from the base. With his head tilted back against the headrest, he furiously jerked off ― fast and with no measure, to the point it was almost hurting. Tension built up from his nuts upwards and when Joel finally got relief, he groaned audibly as his cum spurted out in white, thick streaks.

With a heavy sigh and some laboured breathing, he opened his eyes, looking for some tissues to clean the mess on his lap. As he was putting his cock back in his boxers, something caught his attention.

The darkness camouflaged you well, but he spotted you on the window of your room, watching him eagerly with half-lidded eyes and chewing your bottom lip. Then your head leaned forward, your chin almost touching your chest, and Joel suddenly understood what was happening. You had been touching yourself while observing him do the same thing, until you orgasmed too.

Your eyes locked on each other’s through the blackness, something dark and perverted floating in the atmosphere. The whole thing felt wrong. The right kind of wrong.

The next week had been a continuous dance between the two of you. You too suggestive, him too evasive. After you had seen him wanking in his car, you had thought you had him under your spell. He had looked like a damn teenager chasing his release, unable to contain it much longer.

But you couldn’t blame him ― you had had him on edge for almost five hours. First touching him under the counter, then sucking his dick in the bathroom, and finally kneading him on the couch with your dad only two meters away.

It all had affected you too, because as soon as you had scurried away to your room and had looked out the window, you fingered yourself with your eyes locked on him. You came so hard, that you had to steady yourself on the windowsill, trembling knees and all. And once the orgasm softened its grip on you, you had realised he had been watching you as you rode the last wave of your climax.

So yes, for a week you tried to seduce him again, because you needed to know how it all ended. Having him burrowed down to your guts was a necessity now. However, it got to a point where you almost gave up ― it was draining having to follow him around like a bitch in heat. You still had one ace up your sleeve though. One that you hoped to play this afternoon. Because if you didn’t fuck him today, you were going to lose your shit.

You focused on your task, which was rubbing the soaked sponge on the bodywork of the car. Two other people were doing the same thing on the back, while you were slightly bent over the hood trying to reach the middle. Your breasts brushed against the metalwork, your white tank top completely wet with soapy water, almost transparent now. The coldness was refreshing in the asphyxiating Texan heat and your nipples especially welcomed it, wrinkling tightly and showing through the fabric.

When you straightened, you caught a glimpse of Joel eyeing you intently. But you pretended you didn’t ― maybe you needed to play difficult, show him no interest. Reverse psychology. So for the rest of your shift you just ignored him, fully conscious of how his sight followed you at all times. Let him brew.

Joel didn’t say a word though, didn’t come close to you either. But you heard him wicker while you were openly teasing one of your teammates. Were you trying to make him jealous? Absolutely. So, you giggled and played with your hair at the tasteless joke your colleague told you. It wasn’t funny, but you wanted Joel to listen to your flirting.

Midday came around and the other two people working on the hand wash business said their goodbyes. Joel employed a father and son in the shop too, who left the garage to go home for lunch. And then it was only you and Joel left. Just as you had planned.

“Joel? Can you help me with this, please?” You politely asked him after lifting a bucket full of water up to your chest.

You took a couple of steps forward and the water spilt all over, soaking your shirt completely.

“Shit”, you heard him say under his breath, jogging towards you.

He slipped his arms underneath the bucket to release you from its weight and then placed it back down between both of you.

“What are you doing? You’re gonna hurt your back with such terrible manual handling.” He reprimanded you, tutting.

“Something hurts and it’s not my back, Joel.” You muttered, your fingers wrapping around his wrist to haul him closer to you.

You were done with subtlety. You guided his hand to your pussy and pressed it gently.

“Hurts right here.” The low, needy mumble poured from your lips like honey.

Joel’s eyes squinted just a tad, and his nostrils flared. You saw the inner battle in his chocolate eyes, and you fucking hoped he lost.

Soon you had the answer you had been looking for. The palm of his hand flattened against your crotch, holding you possessively, and pulled you against his broad chest. You couldn’t help but moan when your breasts pressed against him, your taut nipples aching with sensitivity.

“You’re so fucking nasty, kiddo. Been watching you all week, trying to get me hard all over again, haven’t you?” You shyly nodded, biting down your bottom lip as you glanced up at him, his palm rubbing your cunt with determination. “Of course you have, you’re so cock drunk. You loved sucking me, didn’t you?”

You shook your head yes, holding onto the waistband of his jeans. You whimpered when his thumb burrowed in your pants, trying to find your slit over all that clothing unsuccessfully.

“Joel, please.” You begged for mercy, for relief, for something ― anything he could give you, you would take.

“You want me to fuck you, kiddo?” His free hand cupped your chin, tilting your head up, while his thumb kept nudging your damp slit. His mouth hovered over yours as you simply nodded again. “Hm? You want me to destroy your pussy?”

“Yes, yes, YES.” You were already gushing at his dirty talk.

With no more prodding, Joel bowed down and sunk his tongue in your mouth, darting in with the ferocity only a man on the edge could feel. He swept your entire cavity in an open-mouth kiss that left your knees shaking and your pussy throbbing. You moaned into his breath and your tongue lapped at his, the span on his fingers gently covering your neck and squeezing lightly.

Joel’s hand between your legs moved to your ass, pressing you into him. His swollen lump poked at your lower belly intimately and you couldn’t resist the urge to dip your hand in his boxers. He audibly groaned as you attempted to circle his whole girth and failed. Just like a week before, you would need both of your hands around his shaft to properly grip him. You pumped him once, very slow, your hand gliding down till it found his balls.

Joel grunted in the middle of the sloppy kiss and pushed you to go backwards until your body met the back of his pickup truck, which was parked at the end of the driveway. Out of prying eyes, you hoped. Not that you cared that much at this precise moment, anyway.

His beard scratched the skin on your cheek as his lips drifted down to your neck. You looked up to the clear sky before you closed your eyes, giving his pulsing cock a light squeeze that snatched a moan out of him.

Without warning, Joel broke the messy kiss and knelt before you, his hands tugging at the waistband of your shorts with no difficulty. Soon your pants were around your ankles, your panties quickly following, leaving you naked from the waist down. Joel helped you take them off but left your tennis on.

Still on his knees, he peeked up with a devilish smile, then leaned forward and lapped at your mound. A heavy sigh slipped from your lips as your fingers raked his salt and pepper curls. The tip of his tongue brushed the point where your slit started and then licked upwards, his tongue skidding through your skin until it reached your belly button.

You pursed your lips, wanting him to go down, not up. In fact, you pushed him down ever so slightly and the cold of his breath against your wet skin when he laughed made you look down, frustrated.

He kissed the beginning of your slit again and when you thought he was going in, he stopped. You whimpered, thwarted, as he got back up to his feet and towered above you.

“You want me to touch you where it hurts, hm?” He questioned with his lips ghosting yours. “Your pussy? That’s where?”

Not waiting for your reply, his index dunked in your pearly furrow and traced it in its entirety, from your quivering hole to your thumping clit. And then he did it again, for good measure.

“You’re soaking, kiddo. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already dripping.” To emphasize his words, Joel suddenly dived his finger in your opening, a squelching sound making it obvious that you were, in fact, dripping. “You hear that?” He forced his finger out and then back in, the wet, sucking noise even louder this time.

You frantically nodded as he fingered you, his thumb caressing your begging clit as he did. You mewled into his chest, eyes shut, trying to calm the fluttering of your inner walls around his lonely finger. Lonely not for long, because Joel then introduced a second. You held onto his sides, his tee shirt scrunching in your fists, the orgasm building up.

“C’mon, squeeze your cunt for me. Show me how tight you are”, he whispered in your ear as his relentless fingering picked up a faster pace between your legs.

You happily obliged and squashed your walls together around his fingers as he dextrously stroked your g-spot. All of a sudden, a firing sensation built in your clit without warning and the haziness of pleasure took over your senses abruptly. You came hard, very hard, wailing his name as he kept on fingering you until the last wave of your climax washed over you.

What the actual fuck? You thought to yourself, amazed. You rested your forehead against his chest, catching a breath and feeling your arousal wetting your inner thighs.

Still recovering from your unexpected orgasm, Joel picked you up and settled you down on the edge of his truck’s cargo bed. Your feet dangled in front of you, and you parted your legs to make room for him while you wrapped his neck with your arms and licked into his mouth.

“Now I’m gonna eat you raw, kiddo. Give you some of your own medicine.” His hoarse tone gave you goosebumps. Palming both of your breasts over your wet tank top, he pushed you down until your back met the floor of the cargo bed, your legs hanging freely from your knees down. “Is that what you want? This old man feasting on your pussy, on her? ‘S she gonna like it?”

“Joel, please, just― Yes, eat my pussy. Eat her, eat me, please.” You begged with a small voice while you pinched your nipples over your shirt, eyes closed.

And finally, he did. With his hands on your knees to keep them apart, Joel lapped at your cunt in one sweet sweep. Your body trembled with elation, shivers firing down your spine. His tongue caressed all the crevices in your shiny slit, lips puffy and reddened. His thumb found your clit as the tip of his tongue played with your leaking hole, going in and out a few times ― fucking you with his tongue.

You were not able to take it for munch longer ― with Joel’s tongue lodged in your creamy fold and your fingers playing with your nipples, you were done for. Soon you came undone, tension growing in your lower belly and molten lava finding its way out. You howled his name, your knees pressing against his head, holding him in place as you came in his mouth. Joel sipped from your fountain, leaving not even one drop behind, your pussy licked clean of your own discharge.

His turn to find relief.

Even though Joel had been fisting himself while eating you raw, the roughness of his palm could not compare to your warmth. He just knew your pussy would hug his cock just right. And he was dying to find out.

Pushing his work jeans and boxers down to his ankles, he kicked his feet until they came off. Soon his security shoes and socks were kicked to the side too. With renewed energy, Joel jumped on to the cargo bed. You propped your torso up with the help of your elbows to study his erection, wetting your lips unknowingly.

Your eyes lingered on his cock for too damn long and it twitched on his hand.

“Spread your legs, kiddo.”

And so you did without complaints. You stretched your legs, Joel having a perfect view of your glistening pussy. You were so horny, he could literally see your cunt palpitating from this angle. Knelt between your legs, he leaned forward until the tip of his dick brushed against your slit, so damp again it just slid off. Jerking himself off, he nudged your soaked entrance with his mushroom head and your mouth opened, shaping a perfect O.

“So needy, isn’t she? Aren’t you? Playing difficult to catch today, trying to make me jealous with that stupid boy, but in reality, you’re just a desperate brat wanting to get her pussy drilled by her dad’s best friend.” His dirty talk did not stop while he pushed in, your flesh parting to house him until he bottomed out.

Joel moaned, sweat gathering on his brow, his hands on either side of your head. He stood still for a long minute while your cunt fluttered around him, sheathing his whole length. He could feel your inner muscles adjusting to him.

You were so cockstruck you didn’t even reply.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, so take it well, kiddo.” He warned before tilting his hips back and abruptly back in.

You wailed loudly at the first thrust, and Joel had to muffle your screams by covering your mouth with his hand. You licked his palm, but he didn’t let go. He did not want you to alert the neighbours around the garage. His hips bucked against yours and then, after a few teasing shoves, Joel started jackhammering you fast and viciously hard.

You draped your legs around his waist, the heels of your white tennis pushing on his ass cheeks, encouraging to go deeper and quicker. And so he did, uncovering your mouth to replace it with his.

Joel fucked you mercilessly, filthily. He drove his dick in and out of you in quick succession, drilling your tacky pussy. And he knew you were loving every single second of it. Your soft sobs only spurred him on and when your moist pussy clutched around his drumming cock announcing your orgasm, he couldn’t restraint himself for much longer.

He stoically let you come while riding your own climax. His balls tightened and his belly muscles strained, signalling his own relief.

“Where?”, was the only word that he managed to whisper.

Your eyes were still closed, a languid smile lingering on your lips, all blissful and satisfied while he was still fucking suffering.

“In my mouth.” Your reply was almost his undoing.

Joel snapped his hips back, his hard, throbbing cock slipping out. He dragged his body across yours until his thick, hairy thighs were on each side of your head and his nuts were resting on your chin, his ass hanging over your breasts.

“Open”, he husked, raspy and throaty.

Still with your eyes closed, you parted your lips, and Joel shoved his beating cock down your throat unceremoniously. He leaned forward over you ― his hands holding his weight off you, flat against the cargo bed’s floor. And then Joel started fucking your mouth mindlessly, as if it was your cunt ― his testicles slapping against your chin and your eyes welling up.

He could feel your head almost rocking up and down below him with the strength of his thrusts. You only stopped swaying underneath him when your hands grabbed his buttocks, your fingers sinking in his flesh.

With a guttural growl, Joel came undone and his thick cum filled your mouth. You stayed still while the last white ropes spurted out the slit on his tip, finally reaching the bliss he had been chasing for a week.

Joel lifted his hips off your face and his dick came out of your mouth with a pop.

“Eat it, kiddo.” He requested of you, towering above you.

From this angle, flat on your back and with Joel almost sat on your face, you saw first his balls and then his soft cock hovering over your eyes. What had just happened was filthy, and you loved it, even though you were sure that your throat would hurt tomorrow.

“It’s $300 if I swallow”, you kidded out of nowhere, almost gargling with his cum as your mouth was full of it.

Joel chuckled as he came off you, sitting down on your left.

“Deal”, he agreed.

And so you gulped his cum down, letting it slip off your throat until it landed in your belly. You smiled at him before opening your mouth to show him it was empty.

Joel’s chest rumbled with satisfaction.

“Good girl.”

[cxffecoupx]

hyper/calm dynamics

seventeen × gn reader silly ot13, absolutely unserious warnings: none, only goofy svt word count: 413 author's notes: this was a very unserious thought that came to my mind😭 may or may not have been thought of while watching business proposal videos... might just end up making a 'silly svt series' where i do more of such stuff. also, although i mention the term 'gf' here, it's just for the presentation; i've tried my best to make it gn!! i hope you like it :)

hyper gf, calm bf seungcheol, wonwoo, woozi

aka sunshine and sunshine protector. this is such a funny thought in my head like i can see their partner being so bubbly and bouncy and the boys just stand by, smiling awkwardly. they're probably like, holding a leash thats connected to their s/o in order to keep them within sight. dont join in on their s/o's antics, but very supportive from the sidelines, probably silently cheering them up. they may not match their partner's energies, but never question their love for them.

calm gf, hyper bf junhui, seokmin, mingyu, chan

literally the opposite. the boys giving absolute second hand embarrassment while their s/o's just there like 'baby i'm not even here'. boyfriend who? but, during rare occasions, the partners might just match the boys' energies; it's hard to not have them rub off on you. the inverse of the previous sunshine and sunshine protector. partner looks at their bf like he hung up the stars and moon and the whole universe.

calm gf, calm bf jeonghan, minghao, hansol

they just exude this peaceful vibe yk. you could join them at any moment and just... exist. tea party vibes fr like some tea, sweet cookies, gentle gossiping. dont have much energy for extraordinary stuff. they're both just happy to be there, with each other. others might find them too underwhelming, but they understand each other well enough. their love language is gentle loving.

hyper gf, hyper bf soonyoung

CHAOS personified. trouble, trouble and trouble yet again. if you think you can control this couple, you're WRONG. horanghae and horanghae enthusiast. match each other's energy to a level that is genuinely concerning (and lowkey terrifying). they're so chaotic it even drains the energy out of others with them. the calm ones are just purely afraid of them. not to worry tho, they do it out of love and love only. hold so much love for each other and everyone else its cute🤧

option d: all of the above jisoo, seungkwan

cant really pinpoint what they'd be cause their energy is all over the place. one thing for sure though, their partners definitely match their freak. i can just see it. if they're calm, they're calm together. if they're chaotic, they rain hellfire on everyone else. everyone prays they remain peaceful because it's hard to manage them otherwise. but no one can say for sure. they could wake up one day and collectively choose violence.

[bunji-enthusiast]

Pssttt, I heard you were looking for some ideas for the insomniac cat. I got a idea that's been cooking fresh off the stove for you. Catnap has been taking care of a child he found still alive after hour of joy. Simply because unlike most of the kids he would always see in playcare, they weren't scared of him when they first saw him. Following this for background information. The day of the hour of joy was their first day in playcare, so they first saw him all covered in blood after the events of the hour of joy, and yet the reader just ran up to him cutely calling him a kitty as they cling to one his fluffy long legs. Giving catnap a soft spot for them, leading him to start taking care of the child. In present day catnap starts to notice how they haven't slept in days, the cat starts getting slightly concerned so he decides to use the red smoke on the reader so they would sleep. Though for the sake of the idea he isn't aware of the nightmares that the red smoke gives children, so when they start kicking and crying in their sleep the cat starts to panic slightly in his own way while trying to wake them up. Using any means he can to, once they wake up catnap just curls up around them like a fluffy protector vowing to himself in his head he won't use the red smoke on them again. I'm sorry this is long just had this idea cooking in my head for awhile, I hope your having a great day!

Trying To Dream

Note || oh this punched me in the GUT.

WC || 1,086

Sypnosis || In trying times, a cat does the best he can.

It was quite strange, since he had first found you. By no means was CatNap a stranger of caring for children, but you were uniquely different. You were just that, a child with no actual perception of the reality you had been faced with. At that, he felt a pang of guilt for suddenly plunging you into this place without any adult caretakers first and foremost. But he felt they had greatly deserved their place, to rest in the Hour Of Joy. 

When it had all taken place, he himself had rampaged alongside the other toys on his level. Even abolishing the Heretics that went against the Prototype’s rule, he simply was very thorough, cats are naturally akin to being able to notice and spot things. Not a single human soul had escaped his sight.

Yet it seemed he was practically proven wrong when you appeared in front of his very eyes, despite being covered in blood – you were enamored by CatNap.

CatNap’s tail swished and flicked about, prowling right behind his trail as he stopped suddenly in his designated tracks, hearing something out of his vision. “Kitty!” He looked down to see you running up to him, clinging to one of his elongated legs. He was confused for a moment, yet you appeared to be so adorable in his eyes.

Completely oblivious to what had occurred it seemed, you only saw CatNap. A very large kitty, but someone familiar to you. You wanted to cling to that warmth, the familiarity as you were a little nervous and scared before.

CatNap sets everything right for you, to your tiny little mind. Just a small child full of emotions, he felt so strongly in return. A tiny corner in the room of his hardened heart had grown soft, he grew soft at the sight of you. An instinctive familial urge in him to actually want to take care of you.

His head drew closer to the ground, hoping to get your attention. You giggle and smile, keeping onto his fur, instantaneously reminding him of all the children that he saw that came and went in Playcare. He wanted to protect that laughter, that absolute perfect smile of yours. 

You laugh, shuffling over to where CatNap’s head had hung, patting the area around his mouth and eyes. He wiggled and shuffled his head just a bit, hoping to at least draw some sort of reaction out of you (just so he can realize he wasn’t dreaming), “Oh, you look funny Kitty!” You grin, hands clamoring to his neck now. CatNap knew he was sure of it now, you didn’t seem to be panicking or in distress. Nothing of the sort he could indicate, you really were just happy to see him, simply it may be because of the fact he is a cat. By the way you react to him, you really liked cats, so this was an advantage on his part.

You weren’t scared of CatNap at all, that he was grateful for internally. Cause good grief, some memories of the children he had put to sleep before had left them with a bad impression of CatNap.

He didn’t want that happening with you.

CatNap’s tail stretched and stretched, wriggling its way over to you. You giggle at the funny sight, sitting down on the ground as you try to catch it, though it seems to have caught you instead. The tail wrapped around your waist, lifting you up with easing and laying you on the large purple kitty’s back.

“Ahaha! Maybe I should call you…” You pause for a moment, leaving CatNap to be silently concerned due to the length. “Stretchy kitty!” CatNap internally shrugs, leaving no room to be made as he began walking with you on his back, he was painfully aware of you as he didn’t want you falling off on accident.

CatNap in earnest has lost track of how long he had been taking care of you since you two had first met, you really had taken a liking to him.

Yet he took notice very quickly of the lack of sleep you didn’t have for the past few days, not getting the proper sleep and care a human needs can affect one detrimentally. He knows this too, remembering this from experience.

CatNap slinked through the entrance to his room, seeing that you were still at his bed doing your own things. Right now, you were drawing with crayons on a piece of parchment paper that he could find that wasn’t completely ruined. You were quite happy, content.

Your eyes seemed to be so sunken, your energy was low however. CatNap figured it was one of those days where you had a sudden burst of energy to do things. He figured he can help, CatNap knows his gas can put people to sleep.

So that is what he had absolved for, releasing the gas right around the room in your general vicinity. You had gotten so used to the feel of his presence you never looked up at him, just continuing to draw until you had felt very sleepy. Eyes closing and limbs go limp as you fell sideways, CatNap caught you with a swift movement of his tail, laying you gently on his bed.

He quickly went to find a blanket to cover you with, gently draping it over your small form. For a moment, you were silent, finally peaceful to actually get some sleep for the first time in days. Only then did CatNap have the morbid realization of what the side-effects of his Poppy Gas does.

All was peaceful for a good thirty minutes, until a cry broke him out of his nap. He looked around, then noticed your little legs and arms flailing about, not violently but noticeable enough to begin drawing concern from CatNap. He felt a pang of guilt bubble in his chest, nudging you almost roughly enough to get you to awaken. 

Your cries was something he didn’t want to hear again, his own gas caused you nightmares at the risk of just wanting you to actually get some sleep. 

“Ah, kitty!” You sniffle, rubbing your eyes as you cuddle up to CatNap. He in turn returns the sentiment, ears somehow pinned back just possibly enough to understand the emotion. CatNap folds in on both his front and hind legs, laying down completely.

From then on, there wasn’t a chance he was going to use the gas on you again. 

Not if it meant nightmares.

[kiarastromboli]

You’re mine (Chris Sturniolo x y/n)

Masterlist.

Warning: smut content, drug mention, toxic relationship, argument, rough sex.

Summary: y/n and Chris are in a toxic relationship, and y/n is about to tell him that she wants to end it.

Note: This fanfic is entirely inspired by a past relationship I had. I want to emphasize that I'm writing it as a way to talk about my experiences and for fun. If you're in a similar relationship, please, for your well-being, escape. Don't let anyone, under any circumstances, treat you this way. It's destructive, trust me, it's not worth it.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Here I am again on a Thursday night at 12:30 AM, sneaking out to see the boy I promised to stop seeing.

I'm pathetic; it only took one message for me to go against my principles, and now I find myself making the same mistake that I've been repeating for over a year.

But this time is different; tonight, I'm going to end this toxic relationship once and for all.

The boy I'm talking about? Chris, a guy from my high school with whom I've been in a secret relationship for a little over a year.

It all started when he replied to one of my Instagram stories. At the time, I had no idea how much of an asshole this guy was. I was naive and carefree, smoking joints with my friends to have fun, and I only knew Chris by sight.

He hung out with the "cool" people at school—the ones my friends and I desperately tried to become by smoking and adopting a delinquent attitude.

When Chris responded to my story, telling me he found me cute, I couldn't believe my eyes. No one really paid attention to me despite all the effort I put in.

Anyway, after a bit of conversation and some innuendos, I eventually understood what he wanted from me: to hook up. And, to be honest, that was enough for me. I was ready to settle for just that if it meant being closer to him.

That same night, I sneaked out to smoke a joint with him, and I discovered a whole new Chris, far from the one I saw at school.

He was funny, attentive, nice, caring, and very open. I quickly felt comfortable with him; the connection was great. Eventually, we ended up sleeping together in his room.

I had sex with a guy before him, but it didn't go well, and I didn't know much about it. Chris was super understanding and took his time with me. He helped me discover my body and taught me how to please myself and him.

Our relationship helped me become more comfortable with myself. Chris always took the time to kiss every inch of my body to make me understand how beautiful he found me.

"You're so beautiful, Y/n."

"I forbid you to have any complexes; you're perfect."

"Look at yourself; you're gorgeous."

You're probably wondering why our relationship is toxic if Chris helped me so much. Well, the thing is, our relationship has always been a double-edged sword. When the doors were closed, and it was just him and me, everything was fine. He only had eyes for me, complimented me, and listened attentively. But as soon as we were in public, everything changed.

I wish he had just ignored me because he didn't want to acknowledge our relationship, and that was the case at the beginning. But it went much further than that over time.

At first, he ignored me at school, and it hurt a little, but I signed up for it. He made it clear he didn't want anyone to know about us, so I had no say in the matter.

But over time, his friends and mine became friends, and we started hanging out together before, during, and after classes.

That's when things took a different turn. I knew I had to keep a low profile, so I tried to keep my distance from him without looking suspicious when our friends hung out together. However, he started acting strangely.

Whenever I opened my mouth to say something, he hurried to cut me off, diverting attention to himself, making me look like a fool.

Whenever he had the chance, he made more or less hurtful comments about me to amuse the group.

"What's with this outfit? You look like a clown."

"Are you naturally stupid, or did it come with time?"

"You know, you can hide behind all the makeup you want; we still see your face underneath."

In short, he acted like a real jerk when people were around, and in parties, it was even worse. He would grab my attention and then proceed to hook up with other girls right in front of me, as if to provoke me.

He spent all his time humiliating me. The thing is, it happened gradually. It started with a few tasteless jokes from time to time, so I never really took the initiative to defend myself. I don't know why, but I already felt like a fool, and I didn't want to worsen my situation.

At first, I tried talking to him privately to understand why he did that, why he treated me like his princess in private but like a dog the rest of the time. And his responses were always the same.

"Babe, don't stress; it's just how we joke around with my friends."

"It's not a big deal; I just had a bit too much to drink. It happens."

"I treat you the same way I treat my friends so that we don't look suspicious. You know very well that I don't mean any of what I say in front of them, Y/n."

And after that, he would kiss me and make me forget everything with a few caresses. I blamed myself for being so weak, but he was so good with me.

I felt alive and considered with him. No one looked at me the way he did, and no one treated me like he did. But what I hated more than anything was the way I belonged to him while knowing that he didn't belong to me at all.

"You're mine, Y/n; I don't want any other guys putting their hands on you."

"We're not together; I have the right to see other people."

"Who the fuck was that guy in your story this morning?"

I found it cute that he was jealous, but I quickly understood that it was just possessiveness. I was his trophy, and he loved knowing that I adored him, maintaining this destructive little link between us.

I struggled to realize that it was bad for me; I idealized him so much that I normalized his awful behavior towards me. I reached a point where I thought it was the price to pay for having such a perfect guy by my side.

I know it sounds insane, and you probably judge me, but when I met Chris, I was not doing well. I felt bad, lost, and he helped me appreciate life again. He helped me with my body and mind, treated me like a princess, and I was ready to endure all of this not to lose what he gave me.

It was like a drug; without him, I was doing very badly. As long as he was there, everything was better, but I knew it was destroying me, and I knew it was bad. However, cutting ties with him meant giving up on my happiness, and I didn't have the strength for that.

I began to realize how bad it was on the day I broke down publicly with him, during a party with our friends.

Start of the flashback:

What a shitty night; I'm wasted, and Chris shows up with another one of his girls. I don't want to see him; he disgusts me.

I headed to the kitchen to take another shot when I felt hands wandering on my hips. I immediately turned around in surprise to find a Chris even more drunk than me. "Oh my god, Chris, don't touch me," I spat out, rolling my eyes before removing his hands from me.

He chuckled before leaning into my ear to say, "She doesn't suck as well as you, you know?" I felt anger boiling inside me; I pushed him away before starting to walk towards the terrace where the others were.

"Hey, I'm kidding; it's fine, don't make a scene for that, Y/n," he said, grabbing my wrist as I reached the door leading to the terrace.

"Damn it, let go of me, you asshole," I said, opening the door and breaking free from his grip. "Go to hell, Chris," I shouted, unintentionally drawing the attention of others to us.

Chris clenched his jaw and shot me a hateful look when he realized that everyone was fully focused on us. "Stop acting like a bitch and giving a show in front of everyone, Y/n; I don't have time for your bullshit," he snapped, and everyone around us sighed, shocked.

I felt tears welling up. "Damn it, what's your problem with me? Just leave me alone!" I said before breaking down and leaving the party.

End of the flashback.

After that night, nothing was the same. I hated him in public, always making a promise to myself not to go see him again, until he sent a message, and I caved.

It was always the same, the same message, "Come smoke a joint with me." I said no the first time, he insisted, promising it was just to smoke a joint. I'd give in, we'd smoke, end up sleeping together, and again, I'd go back home annoyed at myself for succumbing once more. Secretly, I hoped that the next day, when we met in class, he'd treat me well. But it never happened; he always ended up treating me like crap, and the cycle continued when he sent another message.

A damn vicious circle I tried to break free from as best I could, and for a while, I succeeded. Three months had passed without giving in. Three months of ignoring his messages. But tonight, I allowed myself to go back because I wanted to tell Chris that it was officially over. I found a guy, and I was determined to forget Chris in the arms of this guy I had met a few weeks ago.

I knew it wasn't right, and I had promised not to go back, but it was stronger than me. I couldn't wait to give him a taste of his own medicine, to see his face when he learned the news. Yes, I was acting out of revenge, but you couldn't blame me; he had ruined my life for over a year. I had the right to get back at him.

Anyway, here I am, after a 15-minute walk, in front of his house. I knew where the keys were hidden; I was used to coming here. I stealthily entered his house, being careful not to wake up his parents or siblings. I headed to his room and stopped in front of his door.

Oh my god, what am I doing? Suddenly, stress invaded me, memories flooding back. I thought I was over this, but now, standing in front of his door again, all those good moments rushed back, only accelerating my heartbeat.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. It was too late; I was already here. I opened the door and closed it behind me, making sure to put the towel at the bottom to prevent the smell of weed from escaping his room.

I took a deep breath, memories swirling in my head—the smell of weed and his deodorant, the green glow of his LEDs, his slightly messy room—nothing had changed. Chris was slouched in the chair at his desk, shirtless, and hair disheveled. He had just finished rolling a joint, looked up at me, and I saw the smirk that I hadn't seen in ages. "Long time no see around here, princess."

"Yeah, I've been pretty busy," I replied, rolling my eyes before removing my sweater; it was unbearably hot in his room.

Chris stood up and started walking towards me. My heart raced, and I stood there, watching him approach. "I missed you," he said, running his hands over my waist.

I cleared my throat before moving towards his bed to sit at the edge. Damn, I just lost my composure in front of him. I was confident just a few minutes ago; all of this was a bad idea. "Shall we smoke this joint?" I said, hoping that the joint would help me feel more at ease to accomplish what I came here for.

He turned to me with a confused look before sitting back in his desk chair and grabbing his joint. "Very eager tonight?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm eager to shut you up and pass me that joint," I said, giving him a fake smile. He chuckled before lighting the joint and handing it to me.

"You're sexy when you're angry, you know?" he said, leaning towards me from his chair. I rolled my eyes before taking a drag.

"Three months without seeing me, and you're acting like a real bitch with me," he said, smiling and watching me smoke his joint without passing it back. "You're not even going to let me have a little, mama? Are you that angry with me?" he said, tilting his head to the side and placing his hand on my thigh.

I jumped at the contact of his hand on me, immediately passing him the joint, hoping he would take it with the hand resting on my thigh. However, he did the opposite, pulling his chair even closer to mine, blowing his smoke into my face. "You're chattier than that usually," he said, smiling before taking another massive drag and placing the joint on his desk. He then leaned in, burying his head in my neck, extracting a sigh from my lips.

He started kissing my neck, placing his hand on the back of my head to keep me in place. I couldn't help but tilt my head back, offering him better access, and as he nibbled on my skin, a warm sigh escaped my lips. I could already feel my panties getting wet at that moment.

My head began to spin, unsure if it was the effect of all those drags at once or the way he devoured my neck as if it were his last meal.

Suddenly, I regained my senses, remembering why I had come here in the first place. I pushed him back by the chest, forcing him to sit up on his chair. "Chris!" I said, catching my breath, and he looked at me confused when I did that.

"I didn't come here for this, damn it," I said, getting up from his bed and starting to walk away from him.

"Why are you here, then?" he asked, turning his chair towards me without leaving his chair.

"I came to end this, Chris. I'm tired of your shit," I told him, crossing my arms, and he chuckled. "Is that funny to you, you jerk?" I asked, furrowing my brows.

"Come on, baby, stop your drama. I acted like an idiot, let me make it up to you by having a good time," he said, getting up from his chair.

"No, it's over, Chris, I'm done," I replied sharply.

"You say that every time, y/n, and we always end up here," he sighed. "Can we avoid going through this again, please? You know very well that you and I won't end." He said this while caressing my arms once he reached my level. "These were the most complicated three months I've had since I've known you. You've punished me enough like this," he added, rolling his eyes.

"Do you hear what you're saying, Chris?" I said, shaking my head. "You don't even realize how toxic you are to me," I said, getting angry. "Damn, it took me three fucking months to have the courage to end this relationship. Three fucking months of crying and lamenting because of you, Chris."

"We'll figure it out, y/n. You can't just leave me because you're feeling bad; it's selfish!" he replied. "Do you think I was doing well these last three months? Fuck, y/n, we'll find a solution; we always find a solution."

"We always find a solution?" I said with a fake laugh. "Because treating me like crap in public is a solution for you, Chris?" I said, pushing him, carried away by my anger. "You only think about yourself; damn it, I can't fucking take it anymore. It's not a healthy relationship, none of this is healthy!"

"I told you I didn't want others to know about us, y/n. I don't like airing my life; you can't change who I am!" he said, advancing towards me.

"But damn it, you don't listen to anything I say!" I told him, shaking my head. "This discussion is fucking pointless; it's over. I found someone else, Chris, and he'll genuinely make me happy, not like you," I spat out full of rage before heading towards his door.

He grabbed my arm abruptly and violently slammed me against his door, causing me to release a groan of pain. "What the fuck did you just say?" he said through clenched teeth, bringing his face closer to mine and tightening his hand around my neck to force me to look him in the eyes, where I could see all his burning rage.

"You're hurting me," I said, closing my eyes as his grip tightened around my throat, forcing me onto the balls of my feet. It wasn't the right moment, I knew, but somewhere deep down, his reaction satisfied me. He was furious, and that's exactly what I wanted. I wanted him to feel the hatred he made me feel, and I knew he felt it at that moment.

His hold around my neck loosened, and a smirk appeared on my face. "You heard right, Chris. I found a guy better than you," I told him, looking him in the eyes before leaning toward his ear on tiptoes, resting my hands on his shoulders. "A guy way better than you for me, a guy who will treat me much better than you, and especially a guy who will fuck me much better than you," I whispered to provoke him.

I slowly faced him again, never breaking eye contact. He ran his hand over his face before pressing against the door behind me with his other hand. I could feel the anger boiling inside him, and I liked it. He raised his head to look at me before running his tongue over his teeth and fake laughing. "What's happening to you—" I started to say before being cut off by his lips on mine.

At first, I tried to push him away, but his hand caught both my wrists, pinning them above my head without his lips leaving mine.

No matter how much I resisted, it was useless. When I entered this room, I already knew how it would end, so I ended up giving in and kissing him back, letting his tongue into my mouth.

He pressed his body against mine, and the kiss was hungry and furious. I couldn't help but moan into his mouth. I must admit that this burning fire in the pit of my stomach had been missing, a sensation that only Chris had the power to provoke.

"You're mine, y/n," he growled before reconnecting our lips immediately.

"No, I'm not, Chris," I tried to deny despite having just succumbed for the thousandth time.

"Then why do you always end up here, huh?" he said between hungry kisses on my jaw and neck.

"Because—" I said, moaning as he started to nibble on my earlobe.

"Because you're mine," he insisted, placing his hand on the side of my neck. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll forget the name of that guy you're dating," he said, directing his lips towards my breasts.

"Chris—" I said before being interrupted by his hand on my mouth.

"Shut the fuck up, y/n," he said before pulling on my tank top to expose my chest and began kissing me. "This guy doesn't know you," he said, inserting one of his fingers into my mouth for me to suck, which I did. "I know you inside out. I know where to touch you and what to say," he said, straightening up so his face was in front of mine, lifting his knee between my legs to apply pressure to my pussy.

"I can't believe you even thought for a second that another man could ever fuck you better than me, baby," he said, smirking and rubbing against me, making me moan at the friction of my clothes against my clit.

"Chris, fuck," I said with his fingers still in my mouth. Suddenly, he pulled them out, removing my top in one swift motion. "Please, Chris," I said, desperate. At this point, I could deny it all I wanted, but this guy could reduce me to my knees with just one sentence. It had been three months since I had a proper orgasm.

"Please what? I thought you had someone else, someone better?" he said with a sly smile, grabbing a handful of hair at the back of my head and pulling to make me lift my head toward him. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" he said, stopping the friction between my legs, driving me completely crazy.

"No, Chris, don't stop!" I said in a frustrated moan.

"Say it, y/n," he said authoritatively, looking me in the eyes and pulling harder on my hair. "Fine, since you don't want to say it," he said, dragging me by the hair to his bed where he threw me before swiftly removing my bottoms and panties in one go.

I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't stop. I was dying to feel him inside me. I sat up from my previous position lying on the bed to kiss him. Before I could reach his lips, he pushed me onto the mattress with a sly smile, making me let out another frustrated moan. "Why?" I said, furrowing my brows.

He didn't answer and walked towards his dresser, taking out two pairs of handcuffs we had used in the past. I watched him come towards me with an apprehensive look. "Tell me if your new guy can make you cum like I can," he said, grabbing my face before suddenly releasing me and handcuffing both my arms to his bedframe.

"What are you doing, Chris?" I asked, feeling my breath quicken. He came to kiss me briefly, pushing me to pursue his lips in the hope of reconnecting them hungrily when he broke our kiss.

"Shhhhh," he simply replied before proceeding to kiss every inch of my body except where I really needed him to, making me squirm under his lips. "If only you were less complicated with me, y/n," he murmured, kissing the hollow of my waist. "You're driving me completely insane, y/n," he said, biting the inside of my thigh this time, prompting me to let out a moan.

"Chris," I said, unable to bear the way he teased me. "I need you, please," and with my words, he abruptly spread my legs and dove his head in.

He began licking my wetness from my hole before moving up to my clit, making me moan at the sensation. His left hand came to play with my breasts, while the fingers of his right hand teased my entrance as he stimulated my clit with his tongue, causing me to roll my eyes. "Oh my God, Chris," I said in a broken voice, trying to free my hands from the handcuffs to run them through his hair, but in vain.

Chris continued to groan against me, sending vibrations to my clit, making my head spin. Without warning, he inserted two fingers inside me, causing me to throw my head back and release another moan at the sensation.

He began to move his fingers in and out progressively faster, bending them inside me and hitting that spot that made me see stars. Chris knew perfectly well that he could make me climax very quickly; he knew me inside out. So when that familiar knot formed in the pit of my stomach, I didn't need to alert him for him to know that my orgasm was dangerously approaching. "Can you feel it coming?" he said, continuing to finger me. I simply nodded, too intoxicated by the impending orgasm to speak. "You want it?" he asked, accelerating the movement and making me lose my mind.

I was on the brink of climax when he withdrew his fingers without warning, making me moan in frustration and lift my head towards him. "Chris, no!" I gasped, "Don't stop, please." I pleaded desperately, closing my eyes and rubbing my thighs in the hope of feeling something.

"What's the matter? Did I frustrate you by making you think I was going to let you cum on my fingers?" he said mockingly. "Go ask your new guy to finish the job," he spat, grabbing my throat.

"I lied! Chris, I lied, please!" I said desperately. "No guy can make me cum like you!" I exclaimed, agitated and looking pathetic. "Fuck me, Chris, I beg you, just fuck me!"

He licked his lips while looking at me, then smiled and removed his underwear. I let out a whimper when I saw his member for the first time in three months. I bit my lip, remembering all the things he could do with it. "Did you miss this, little slut?" he said, slapping me before positioning himself between my legs. I nodded vigorously, making him smile. "I missed you, princess."

He began to slap his cock against my clit, making me lift my head and moan at the teasing sound. Then, he started rubbing against me without penetrating. "Chris, stop teasing me; I can't wait any longer," I said, frustrated and hungry.

"Say it, baby, say it, and I promise to give it to you. I promise to stop messing around, and I promise it'll be the last time you have to run away from me," he said between several kisses on my lips, jaw, ear, and neck.

I knew that if I said it, there would be no turning back. I knew that if I said it, the three months I've spent without him would have been for nothing. And I knew that if I said it this time, I was screwed. But it was Chris, the only guy who shone in my eyes. So, for the umpteenth time, I swallowed my pride and principles. "I'm yours, Chris, only yours."

He gradually entered me, almost making me scream when he hit the depth. "Fuck, I missed this pussy, baby," he said, moaning before starting to penetrate me. "I never want you to let anyone else touch you, do you hear me?" he said, thrusting abruptly into me, and I nodded furiously. "You're mine, y/n, only mine. Fuck!" he said, trying to contain his moans before burying his head in my neck to bite me.

"Oh my fucking God! Chris! Shit!" I exclaimed when he began to thrust in me at an inhuman speed. "Yes, yes, yes, don't stop, oh my-" I felt like I was losing my mind. He pressed his lips to mine to kiss me fiercely, our kiss filled with growls and moans.

"Damn, y/n, I missed you so much. Never leave again," he said, moaning against my lips and thrusting impossibly deeper.

"Never again, baby, I promise!" I said, looking at him with furrowed brows and a face tense with the pleasure I was receiving.

"You're the only good girl for me; I want no one else," he said, placing his forehead against mine while grabbing my legs and wrapping them around his waist. "I'm going to do things right; I'm going to fix things for you," he said, moaning when I started to clench around him.

"Chris, I—fuck, please," I uttered a sentence that made no sense. I no longer had the ability to formulate a coherent sentence, but he understood what I wanted. He untied my hands from the handcuffs without withdrawing from me. He turned us around so that I was sitting on him, and his back was against the headboard.

I moaned at the new angle, which allowed him to reach even deeper. I could feel him in my core. I began to bounce on him at a steady pace, and he threw his head back. "Oh my God, you're so good for me, baby," he said, closing his eyes.

My hands came to grip his cheeks, making his beautiful blue eyes meet mine. His hands grabbed my hips to guide and pull me even closer to him. Our torsos were pressed together, and our lips brushed against each other as I bounced on him. No words came out of our mouths, but we communicated through our eyes. His grip on my hips tightened, and he began thrusting from below. I felt my orgasm approaching. "Baby, I—I can't—I can't—I'm going to—" I tried to articulate, but once again, everything tangled in my head, and I couldn't say it.

"I know, princess. Let yourself go. Come for me, baby. I want you to come for me, ma , please don't stop," he said, biting his lips and clenching his jaw. I could feel him twitch inside me, and within seconds, I started to climax. He grabbed my neck roughly, kissing me while forcing me to continue bouncing on him until he also climaxed inside me.

I let my head fall on his shoulder, and he began to stroke my hair. We were both out of breath. "I never want you to see that guy again," he said.

"Fuck you, Chris," I replied without moving from my position.

"I'm serious. If I see you with him, I'll kick his ass," he said, grabbing my chin to make me face him.

"I won't see him again," I replied simply, and he smiled before kissing me slowly and gently.

Masterlist.

[jaetyun]

your biggest fan.

04. rodrick heffley

wc: roughly 1.4k ish

"my arms hurt"

"your arms always hurt" your insistent whines only prove to make eunseoks jaw tick in annoyance, wanting nothing more than to take the luggage in his hands and throw it at your face until you fall backwards. it would really funny too, he notes. "plus, you're the one that said you'd help in any way you could."

"i know i said that but i was thinking like, hanging out with anton in his studio all day" you huff, stopping halfway through the hallway to do a small hop, an attempt to readjust the box in your hands. "why'd i get the heavier shit? you literally work out" you're met with a teasing shrug, eunseok opening the door and holding it for you in a small token of pity. rather than a thank you, you reply with scrunching your face, sticking your tongue out in childish rebellion.

the two of you have been packing up the essentials in the house that doubled as their practice and resident hangout spot. the rest would be on the way eventually, though you were sure eunseok had sent them on random errands to delay the inevitable: you seeing sohee and wonbin.

it's not like you hadn't all hung out in this very house countless times, this being your childhood home eunseok inherited once college started. you've spent most of your formative years on the same couch you could spot even from outside the house (where you currently stood, box still in hands from being lost in thought and forgetting how heavy it is), watching a movie the boys had picked purely to watch your discomfort. when you weren't watching a movie, sometimes they'd sneak into the liquor cabinet, not allowing you to leave until you had tried some with them. or maybe the fonder memories were when they weren't being mean to you, like karaoke nights or when you watched them practice with the makeshift drums and guitar they had. the practices they had now were much more professional and definitely sounded better, but it was undeniable you were far more fond of the ones before they got big, back when their biggest problem was learning how to read music.

you were startled back to reality by eunseok finally having remorse, snatching the box from your hand and placing it carefully with the other necessities you were storing on the porch for easier delivery when shotaros big ass truck got there. you mumbled a thanks, crunching and releasing your fingers in tandem now that they're finally free, watching your brother silently nod before walking back inside first. he's definitely gotten softer since middle and high school, and the terrorizing brother who used your misery as entertainment had faded with puberty.

"i'm hungry" your complaining starts up again, following into the kitchen where you make a dramatic display of your tragedy by laying down on the island table. eunseok scoffs, placing a water bottle next to you mid tantrum. "the guys will be back in like 20 minutes with food, you can survive." at the reminder, you turn around so you're now on your stomach, swaying your feet in the air with a grin. your brother stares at you for a second, a mix of judgment and disgust overtaking his face. "dont go ignoring everyone else when he gets here. especially sohee, you barely glance his direction at this point. it's honestly really depressing to watch"

your eyebrows raise at this, glancing at your brother suspiciously. "you want me to pay attention to sohee? what did he bribe you with to get you to say that" you sigh out, fidgeting with the water bottle cap while speaking.

"you've known him longer, he misses his friend." he walks over, pinching your cheeks to coo at you before you're swatting his hand away. "eugh! i dunno what's infected your brain to be asking me to hang out with sohee when normally i'm not allowed in a 10 foot radius of your friends. need me to babysit him or something?" he rolls his eyes, taking a seat in one of the chairs while you still sat stomach down, your head now resting on your crossed arms. "he's not even the youngest. i just think you shouldn't be so googoo gaga over wonbin, it's weird."

as if on queue, the door swung open, bag of greasy fast food in antons hand while he did a sing song hum to signify he's home.

"yn get off the island! you're gross germs are gonna get on the food" shotaro nags, walking toward you while you slowly shuffle off. "you'd love it if you had my cooties, it'd the first time a woman gave you anything-" eunseok covers your mouth with his hand, using the momentum to push you back so he could take a peak inside the to-go bags. he made quick work of it, taking the wrapped burgers and handing it out to the regular buyers of that item.

once you got your requested order, you glanced at sohee, the words your brother said ringing in your head. looking around, you spotted wonbin after, eyes softening and feet about to work on autopilot before you blinked yourself back to reality. sohee was in the corner of the kitchen, resting against the counter seemingly in his own world. looking back at wonbin, it was clear he was occupied talking to anton while they surveyed the drinks and messed with them inside the carrier. after pausing for a moment, your feet begun to move again, walking toward the person you'd rather talk to.

"heehee" you hum, walking over to sohee who was inspecting his burger. he gave you a nod, a smile etching on his face even if his gaze immediately returned to the burger. "is it true you miss your ex bestie?" you tease, hands under your chin to frame your face while batting your eyelashes. he snickers, deciding to dismiss the burger entirely and now focusing on you. he nods in confirmation, the cheeky smile still on his face. "we never hang out anymore, alone or in a group"

your pose drops, sticking a tongue out at him. "well that's your fault for homie hopping to my brother" wonbin walks over to where you guys stood in the kitchen, drink in one hand while the other slides onto the counter next to sohee. "why're you guys hiding from us?" although it's clear there's humor in his voice, he gives sohee an unreadable expression before sohees rolling his eyes, gesturing to you. "she came over here to pick on me." your eyes widened, scared of making a bad impression on wonbin and him viewing you as anything other than the alluring gentle girl. "not true!" there sohee goes, setting operation loverboy back 15 steps.

"oh. well then leave him alone yn" you nod dumbly, an apologetic smile on your face. he returns the smile before turning back to sohee. "we're loading the truck right now, we could use the extra hands" he gives sohee, who is now also exchanging an expression you can't quite place, a hardy pat on his forearm before swiftly exiting. sohee sighs, taking one last bite out the mostly untouched burger before looking back at you. "well i'm glad you decided to join us on tour, i dunno about anyone else know i missed your company. make sure to say hi to shotaro and anton too" he finishes, now sliding off the counter and rolling up his sleeves while walking toward the front door. watching all the boys pile out, you sat there wordlessly. this was the first time you were truly gonna be surrounded by the band and only the band, and though you were more than happy to spent most of your time with wonbin it soon sunk in how everyone else would be there too. sohee seemed more excited to see you than even hiyyih, who was the president of your fanclub. shotaro and anton were the same as ever, adding to the group what the other three lacked in high school perfectly. though you joined purely for your quest with wonbin, it soon became clear this trip was about a lot more than you trying to win over your lover boy. it wasn't until your phone dinged that you had snapped back to reality, hand automatically going to your pocket to reply.

previous - masterlist - next

since your brother formed a band with his friends in high school, you've had a massive crush on the aloof and reserved wonbin. him never paying you mind never bothered you until they became famous, and now you have to share him with every other fangirl. now that they're on tour, it's the perfect opportunity to make wonbin realize he doesn't want to share you either.

taglist @jvngw0nlvr @tocupid @seunghancore @molensworld @starwonb1n @yizhoutv @yipyipmorals @gyehyeonist @icewons @renjuneoo @soobiverse @fae-renjun @nujeskz @woonagi-lemon @miy-svz @binoyu @ricecakeslove @i03jae @meowbini @https-yeonjun @snowyseungs @p-d1ddy @saranghoeforanton @secretiny @aloverga @potatosoulp1h @dimplewonie @taroddori i @suzayaaa @brachioswrld @flaminghotyourmom @haowonbins @kyusqult

[justarandombrit]

Believe it or not, I did in fact go to see Spies Are Forever (you'd never know from looking at my blog), and, as usual, I wrote down some notes. My memory is shit so I'll probably update this with additions when I remember more, but for now, below the cut...

Act 1:

. They played Show Stoppin' Number and so many people were singing along

. It started midway through them playing The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals

. Joey: “Sorry to anyone who thought they were seeing Wizard Of Oz. Although, this show has many friends of Dorothy”

. Emily Proudlock has a beautiful voice. The microphone was struggling a little at the start, though lmao

. THEY GOT AN ACTUAL BANANA PEEL

. Oliver Ormson (Owen) called Curt “Mega” which in the show he doesn't do until he becomes the DMA (not a criticism, just interesting)

. Owen said the “A man needs his privacy”(?) line, so Owen and Barb have officially interacted now

. I love Brian's Informant. His French accent was so over the top

. Brian stared at Clark when he said “The Deadliest Man Alive” until Clark played the keyboard sting. And then whenever anyone else said it throughout the show, he played it.

. They left in a huge awkward silence when the DMA was waiting for Sergio and it was so funny

. Sergio sounded so awkward when he said “You guys can relate, right?”

. Joey fucking SCREAMED “PLEASE!” during Sergio's little Somebody's Gotta Do It reprise

. “The Deadliest Man Alive disarms Mega and escapes”

“He does?”

. Dean John Wilson walked back on stage after his exit, said “The Deadliest Man” and left again

. Okay, so Claire M. Hall is a perfect Cynthia

. You guys are gonna crucify me for this, but I actually liked her Eyes On The Prize I better than Lauren's…

. Joey was making the weirdest faces during Eyes On The Prize II

. Curt cocked his head at Hallucination!Owen and Owen shrugged and mouthed “I don't know” at him

. I LOVE EMILY OOI’S BARB!!!!!! She did a cute little dance during “It's actually a gun!”

. Obioma (Curt) pretending his beard had been shaved lmao

. No Richard Big appearance sadly

. Curt was even more oblivious about Tatiana hitting on him than in the actual show

. The Nazi ensemble stuck around throughout the whole scene and kept gasping when Curt called them villains

. THEY MADE NOT SO BAD… EVEN MORE NOT SO BAD

. “SAY WE GOT A BIT LOST, WITH THE WHOLE HOLO–” *looks at ensemble* “ehh…”

. “WE DID ALL WE COULD DO TO poopoo THE JEW”

. They didn't make the audience chant, which was… probably for the best

. Von Nazi yelled “I'm a big boy! A BIG BOY” at Mega then walked off without using his knees

. Curt groaned and hung his head when the DMA said “I'm gonna torture the living shite outta you”

. Actually gasped at the overlapping “Doesn't even matter if I killed my best friend” and “To show you the horror of staying alive”, even though I knew it was coming

. The homoeroticism 🤌🤌🤌🤌

Act 2:

. I WAS ON THE SAME ROW AS A.J. FUCKING HOLMES AND DIDN'T NOTICE UNTIL JOEY SHOUTED HIM OUT

. Joey shouted out loads of cosplayers still in character as Vanger Borschtit

. Everyone was so excited about Vanger Borschtit, and Joey made everyone cheer for an acceptable amount of time “for his reel”

. The new We Love the Prince lyrics really are so much better (also what did he do to the Pope?!?!?)

. Vanger Borschtit was DISTRAUGHT when the prince died

. Obioma stared so blankly into the audience at “Or whatever it is you boys do in the rumpus room”

. I think out of all of the new cast members, Evelyn Hoskins (Tatiana) sounded the most like the original actor (she was also so cool)

. Obioma actually sung the little “Very good place to start” Sound Of Music reference and Tatiana looked so annoyed

. Tatiana was SO into Doing This up until the kiss (which wasn't a real kiss lmao)

. MRS MEGAAAAAAAAAA

. The lights flashed rainbow after the line “So we're just… friends?”

. Curt looked straight at Barb when he said “Some of us may die”

. Curt paused before he drank the shot, and then started drinking a load and everyone stared at him, really concerned. It was a really neat piece of acting

. Von Nazi kept stressing how he had no idea how Feurgin was killed

. The Informant looked so concerned at the start of NSB reprise, then actually kinda got into it

. Jak Malone (Von Nazi) made his death SO DRAMATIC. He fell to the ground and went “Ow, my back! Ow, my front! Ow, my…self” and then got up and bowed

. Owen stood behind the DMA and they just spun around while Joey narrated

. Joey: “THE DEADLIEST MAN ALIVE FALLS DOWN THROUGH A HIDDEN TRAP DOOR IN THE STAGE–”

. ONE STEP AHEAD JSTSKTKEYYKDKFYFUHDYSWWGDJFKGKFDHSGSTSFJKGKGKGJDSYSYIFKF I'M NOT OKAY

Dean: *Crouch-walks away*

. Owen stared directly at Curt (and addressed him instead of Tatiana) when he said “Don't slip up” and loads of people “Ooh”ed

. Owen seemed actually on the verge of tears in Spies Are Forever (Reprise)

. He also fully yelled “You're a caveman!”

. They changed the line “Taking your advice” to “Moving on”, just like Curt (I think it was Curt? Edit: IT WAS JOEY) wanted in the livestream

. The speech before Spy Again (Reprise) was so good. Everyone came out on stage and it was all just incredible

. SPIES ARE FOREVER, IT'S A MUSICAAAAAAAAALLLLLL……. IT'S ABOUT SPIES!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I'm in a long distance relationship with my boyfriend slash childhood best friend. My parents moved while we started dating when we were 17, now we're 22. We live pretty far away and we met once every year until the pandemic hit. Then we kept contact via chats and phone calls, sometimes videocalls but his network isn't very good where he lives so we mainly chat.

These days, like for the last year, I've been feeling nervous and anxious over phonecalls and face to face chats. We text each other all the time and we're really close but he wants to see or hear me and I don't want that. Like I have a phobia of letting him perceive me. I feel insecure about everything even tho he's not causing it, I just feel like I'll do or say something stupid and he'll laugh at me, like he'll be disappointed to see my face or hear me. So I avoid his requests to meet or call. This isn't just for him but it's the strongest with him.

Last week my friends from uni decided to have a big outing, almost the whole day out eating and watching a movie. It was planned since June so I was pretty excited. On that day while I was getting ready they kept calling to make sure I was coming. We were supposed to meet at a restaurant and go from there.

Then one friend who had just reached the restaurant called me, giggling and out of breath, to ask if I was taking so long because I wanted to "impress him into proposing". Then I heard my other friends tell her to shut up and not ruin it. I immediately understood what was going on but I called one of the other girls (my closest friend along with my bf) to gently ask for an explanation. I wasn't accusing her of anything yet but she kept implying that she knew I figured it out. I then said I might not go because I had a headache. She dismissed me and firmly told me to come, like in a friendly threatening manner, don't make excuses, go there or she won't talk to me again.

I hung up and called the first girl who was giggling, she said to just go it'll be fun or they'll be sad. I called my bf to ask where he was and he said my city but miles away from that restaurant, then asked why. I told him I knew what they were planning, and they could have fun without me and I didn't trust them anymore, then hung up.

As you have guessed they planned a surprise meetup between me and my bf. Surprise for just me, he was in on the plan and told me he'd be in my city that week for his uni related reasons.

I haven't spoken to any of them since then. I have to see the girls all the time at uni so that's hard but bf is getting full silent treatment and he's begging and apologizing. He said he'll never ask again and he sent a voice note where he spunded like he was crying. The girl who giggled said sorry and she was just tagging along to the other two girls' plan.

I feel bad for blowing up on them but I feel betrayed, I really can't get over how they thought it'd be funny and cute. The close girl friend hasn't apologized, she and the third girl doesn't see any problem with what they did and think that I'm overreacting like a diva. They think I ruined their plan instead.

Aita for not wanting to be friends with any of the girls anymore? I know some of you will say get better friends but these are the better friends, they're my only friends. I don't think I'm up for friendship anymore. I've forgiven my bf but I'm not sure if I want to keep the relationship, for this drama and my clear lack of interest in seeing him for a whole year. I may be overreacting, I'm being cruel to all of them for a phobia. That's why I'm asking.

What are these acronyms?

[miller-n-morgan-2]

Take Me Home

2. Gunslinger

Arthur Morgan x Texas Red!Reader

A/n: thank you guys for the warm welcome back and for reading the first part! I hope to be getting the Joel series reposted soon, but for now, I'm just going to be uploading these.

Summary: With the newest outlaw settled into camp, Arthur takes on yet another role within the group: Teacher.

Warnings: canon typical violence, guns, talk of blood and brutality. Backstory mentions misogyny, and has detailed descriptions of arranged marriage. Mild language, some angst, mostly still just an introductory chapter.

WC: 3.3k

“I know what Dutch said,” he nodded, approaching closer and crossing his arms. “I still expect something in return for my services.”

You scoffed. “I ain’t got nothing you would want.”

“Sure, you do…” he trailed, standing right in front of you and reaching down towards your hip. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, even just having him this close to you. When his hand met your gun, pulling it away from its holster, you relaxed just a bit more. “How is it you shoot so fast?”

You haven’t seen much of the nature of Agua Fria, but you’re glad you’re able to, now. You’d town hopped a few times within the city, letting new faces get a look at yours. But there was a sort of pressure in those crowded areas, and it doesn’t feel like that in the Van Der Linde campsite. 

The gang has taken well to you. It’s been a fortnight since you joined up, the ragtag gang of outlaws, thieves, and gunslingers had been welcoming, given your display on just the day after your arrival.

Dutch has yet to send you on any jobs, mainly because of something you revealed to everyone around the campfire a week ago. 

“How does one shoot a rifle?” you pondered curiously, the silence of the group making you anxious.

“Boy, you better be pulling my leg,” Dutch himself butted in, shaking his head in disbelief. A cigarette hung from his lips, but he pulled it away to stare you down. 

“Well, I just…” haven’t ever shot one before. You’d trailed off before any further mockery could be made, but it was too late.

“You mean to tell me, that in eighteen years of life, you never managed to fire a rifle?” Arthur chimed in, though he was in on your secret, this revelation still surprised him. What else were you hiding?

“If y’all are just gonna mock me, I’m turnin’ in.”

Dutch laughed, and everyone else in the circle made an attempt to undo the harm done. 

“Javier ain’t even played a damn note, and you’re gonna sleep?” John cut in, his gravelly voice full of resentment to your attitude. Maybe you were a bit touchy, but it’s not like you’d ever had close friends to joke around with before. Much less people who got away with poking so much fun to your name.

“Who cares if he can’t shoot a rifle? He’s got a faster shot than all of you with a pistol,” Tilly piped up, her sweet voice just about putting all the other men in their place. She looked at you with contrition. “I’m not very good with those big guns, either.” 

“Thank you, Miss Tilly,” you tipped your hat, sitting back down on the log next to her. 

That was another thing… You couldn’t bear to break the young girl’s heart, although she would have to find out eventually that you were not in fact the man she thought you were. 

Arthur chuckled under his breath watching the interaction, going back to the drink in his hand with a shake of his head. He wouldn’t say anything, he promised he wouldn’t… but some of these occurrences were just too amusing, he couldn’t help his genuine reactions. The slanted jokes about male anatomy towards you, usually coming from John, Sean, or even the calendar boys. The way that you nearly had a heart attack when Miss Grimshaw offered to help you out of your clothes to wash them. Even now, the sweet words from Tilly and the funny way you looked at your feet to avoid meeting her eyes. 

He’d been surprised, if he’s honest. He thought that with all her romantic notions and storybook thoughts that Mary-Beth would be the one to fancy a new gunslinger… but maybe you just weren’t her type. Perhaps it was the red hair that deterred her, he knows for sure that was the case when Sean tried his luck. Good thing Karen was there to catch his fall. But sweet Tilly had no idea what she was in for.

He’d teased you about it over the next week, and finally today, when it was time to show you the ropes of a rifle. Dutch insisted that running with them required knowledge of more than pistols and revolvers, and who better to teach than the enforcer himself.

“Like this?” you asked, trying to place the gun correctly. 

“Yeah sure, if you wanna blow your arm out of socket.” His low chuckle, followed by a drag of smoke was not helpful, and neither were his words, but your position was just too funny.

“I believe this is where you’re s’posed to be helpin’ me,” you replied, a fiery bite in your words. You’d been learning to warm up to people’s teasing, although it was still a long road to go. 

He stood to his feet from where he lounged by a tree, coming up beside you to kick your foot out a little. “Can’t stand like a tree, kid… you’ll tip over in the wind.”

He pulled the butt of the gun into your shoulder, making sure you wouldn’t give out when the gun fires. 

“Alright, the shootin’ part should be easy for you. Just hold strong, that thing’s gonna kick back a hell of a lot more than any handgun.” 

You pulled back the bolt, raising the barrel until you could aim properly. The glass bottle on the tree branch down the way looked like an easy enough target, but when you fired, you weren’t ready for how much pressure the gun would push on you, and you stumbled back into Arthur. 

“Mind your step, will ya?” he teased yet again, and it took everything in you to just ready your stance and try again without saying a word. 

You took a deep breath, pulling back on the bolt once more. You had a good idea as to how much you needed to push back this time. Finding the bottle again, you pulled the trigger, closing your eyes at the explosion and faintly hearing the sound of broken glass in the distance. 

“I did alright,” you turned to Arthur, a narrow gaze in his eyes as he looked from you then back to the tree. It was quite a distance away, and he was surprised you’d hit so accurately already. Then again, you were kind of known for your accuracy… but you’d never fired a rifle.

“Yeah, more than alright,” he reasoned, taking the gun from you and turning to take a shot for himself. “Now ya just gotta work on speed. This ain’t nothing you can keep on your hip.”

He fired one round after another, each bullet hitting the same branch on a tree until it fell from the trunk completely. Wow. 

He smirked over his shoulder, and your face probably gave him an even better reason to be smug. You were clearly in awe of almost everything this man did. Taking care of his horse? In awe. Carrying supplies from the wagon into camp without having to make several trips? In awe. Even now, his accuracy and reaction time. He was so skilled, and you wondered if you’d ever match him. 

“Now,” he said, setting the rifle by the tree. “I don’t just go about teachin’ folk how to shoot for free.”

“But Dutch said that-”

“I know what Dutch said,” he nodded, approaching closer and crossing his arms. “I still expect something in return for my services.”

You scoffed. “I ain’t got nothing you would want.”

“Sure, you do…” he trailed, standing right in front of you and reaching down towards your hip. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, even just having him this close to you. When his hand met your gun, pulling it away from its holster, you relaxed just a bit more. “How is it you shoot so fast?” 

Honestly, you didn’t have a clue. Everything you did to get faster, you’re sure he’s already done, and a million times over. 

“Nerves, mostly. My hands start shakin’ whenever I get a challenger, they start itching to shoot real bad… guess that’s why.”

He nodded, but was unsatisfied. Your answer was vague and unconvincing.

“What’d you do to learn? You obviously ain’t shot another gun but this one here, tell me how it came along,” he raised the pistol in the air, his skilful hands spinning it over a finger with ease. 

“I guess s’a long story.”

“And since you learned your way around a rifle so well, we got nothin’ but time.”

You sighed, stepping into the shade of the tree closest to you. You leaned into it, crossing your arms and watching as he continued to handle your closest ally in his steady hands. 

How do you even start this story? How does it even get told? You’d never uttered a word about your past to a single person since it all unraveled. You weren’t sure he’d stick around to hear it all, or maybe if he did, he would think you to be foolish. 

But this Arthur Morgan, with his tough exterior and gruff voice had a soft spot. He was gentle when need be, kinder than most. You suppose he derives it from Hosea, given that the man practically raised him into manhood. 

“You know, I used to be a little rich girl,” you chuckled, watching for his reaction. It was surprising to him, but he waited, almost as if thinking you’d retract it as a joke. “Yeah… lived on a big orange grove in South Carolina.”

“You’re kiddin’ me,” he let out when he realized you weren’t messing around. 

“Had a rich daddy and a rich mama. My entire lineage has gotta be worth a couple million at least.”

“Then why on earth are you here? You’d have to be crazy to leave that behind,” he gripped your pistol tightly now, his entire stance leaning on his left leg as he narrowly watched you lounging against the tree. 

“Oh, I had a good reason,” you scoffed with wide eyes. 

“Good enough to leave behind a family fortune?” 

He’s a man. Every man you’ve ever met is the same. They pay no mind to you anymore because you look like one of them now. But before? It was practically a brawl at every public event you attended. You hope that Arthur does not prove to be like the rest. You’ve already been so sure that he stands out, it'll break your heart if you were wrong.

“I know it may not seem like it, but I used to be quite the stunner. I attracted quite a few suitors.”

He nodded, looking you up and down in one glance before coughing a bit and averting his eyes. You hid yourself well, but if he tried hard enough, he could imagine how you would look in more feminine apparel. He liked what he was imagining. 

“I don’t doubt it…”

“Well, my dad was in control of who would have my hand, and as you can imagine I wasn’t fond of that fact… He picked one of his old pals from Virginia, another big farmer like himself, wealthy beyond belief and probably thirty five years my senior.”

Arthur was still, blinking a few times. He doesn’t understand. Yes, you would have had to marry someone you were not interested in… but the situation seemed ideal otherwise. 

“You would have been well taken care of, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh sure,” you nodded, but there was a smirk on your lips. “I would have been just dandy until he found a reason to kill me like he did his first two wives. My father never believed the accusations, of course, and the evidence had been conveniently destroyed… but I knew better.”

He let out a low whistle, finally looking back to your gun and wondering if its origins were about to come to light. Yeah, he thought. That’s a pretty damn good reason.

“So you ran off?” 

You gave a small nod, remembering the last time you ever saw your home and family.

“When I was eighteen I was shipped off to Virginia with a caravan, but before I could be delivered to old Thomas Arlington’s doorstep, I hid overnight in a stable. I stole a horse and headed west a bit.”

“How far west?” 

“West Virginia,” you chuckled. “I got to lurk around there a while, I started dressing all boyish and helped a travelin’ musician with his shows. After he settled down I found that very gun on the ground of a saloon. No one ever claimed her, so I polished her up and started practicing draws. I got pretty good, made bets on shootin’ games to get by.”

“You just… picked her up and started shootin’?”

“It sounds quite dull when you put it that way,” you laughed, holding your hand out to take the gun back. You’re not expert with this thing, can’t even spin it half as well or efficiently as he does… but you might be the best in the world at drawing it from your holster. “I’d never shot anyone before, until one man got real upset that he lost a shooting game to me. It was my first duel… and I won. All because of a game. It was that can game we played after I got here.”

“I figured as much. I ain’t never believed anyone could shoot faster than me until I saw you that day. Paid close attention to those bullet holes.”

He was being far too kind. It’s not like you were anything like him. He had it all. Strength, skill, wits, and as you learned with every glance, the looks to kill.

“I ain’t any good beside the one shot I know how to take.” Your confession meant more to him than you realized.

Yeah, he thought. You can draw, but before today you’d never shot a rifle. You’d never used a knife. Likely never robbed a bank or a stage coach or anything of that sort. Aside from duels, you’re clean cut and inexperienced… your nickname holds far more weight than he’s sure you can actually hold. Ruthless killer? More like a hustler with a bit of blood dusting your fingers. You haven’t made any ground compared to him, yet you’re the one they know far and wide. 

“Let’s make a deal,” he started, his steps carrying him quite close to your form, nearly hovering over you. “I’m gonna make you one of us. Teach you everything you need to know. Fightin’, stealin’, sneakin’ round… all of it. And in return, you’re gonna teach me how to shoot faster than you.”

He knows it’s built on a prideful notion, but he reckons you don’t care, because he’s offering you far more than you can give him. Obviously you agree, because even if you try to teach him, you are almost positive that you don’t even know the secret to your speed.

“Alright, cowboy… I’ll shake on it.”

And you do, squeezing his hand tightly.

-

You find yourself settling into the camp a lot easier than the weeks before. The names of the people here just roll off your tongue, whenever you see them, a greeting is spoken. You’ve also been able to sleep soundly in your tent despite the fears of the animal sounds out in the distance. You’ve come to realize that you aren’t alone in the wilderness, and you have a sort of family to keep you safe, now. 

Arthur continues to show you the ropes, giving you tricks and quick witted thoughts for situations you would never have thought to put yourself in. They all are illegal situations, of course, but you listen intently, and learn each step with an absorbent state of mind. 

Even if he doesn’t outwardly show it, you think Dutch is happy about your progress, given that you are not only an asset to future jobs, but also because you seem to blend well with everyone. He definitely views his gang as a family of fugitives, and now that you’re one of them, he’s become warm with you, even calls you ‘son.’ 

There is one member of camp that to date, you haven’t gotten into conversation with. Hosea Matthews. The man seemed to be the fatherly type, and nearly everyone in the gang had a sort of paternal view of him in some way. You reckon Arthur has taken the man to be closer to him than actual blood. The great Mr. Morgan doesn’t often share details of his past, but you’ve heard here and there about the rascal that was his father, dead and gone when Arthur was a kid, but not soon enough. 

It was a Tuesday morning, after a round of stale coffee when he first sat down beside you for a friendly chat. You couldn't have possibly known the contents of the topics he had in mind, but you were about to be bombarded with them in the most gentle way you reckon a man can speak. 

“Mister Gunslinger,” he began, a gentle clap on your shoulder to garner your attention. “I’ve heard you’re getting to be the best man at camp.”

His friendly chuckle eased your nerves, but you brushed off his words anyway. 

“Not sure ‘bout that. Just learnin’ the ropes,” you nodded along to your own words, hoping they caught well with him. 

“Arthur told me you picked up a rifle for the first time a few days ago and blew him out of the water,” he mentioned, the tone in his voice suggesting he wanted his compliment to land. 

“He’s bein’ far kinder than I deserve,'' you scoffed, shaking your head this time. “Nearly took my shoulder out of socket on the first shot.”

“But you broke a bottle on the second,” he returned, likely quoting your dear mentor’s own words. “How did you learn to shoot that pistol of yours, anyhow?”  

Hosea knew everyone’s stories. He was the father of the camp, albeit not the leader. He knew everything about everyone, and he took care of them. You took one look at him and decided you could trust him from day one… but that didn’t mean he should know everything.

“Well, I found this gun a while ago, just started shootin’ it till I hit somethin’.”

He leaned forward in his seat, another chuckle rolling off his tongue, but the question went unanswered in the way he’d hoped for. He took a breath, turning to face you a bit more… He decided to be straight with you. 

“I’m sure you’ve probably got things in your past you’re not too proud of. I’ve heard the name ‘Texas Red’ in quite a few towns now. I guess I’m just curious about what you did before the gunslinging days.”

“Oh…” you trailed, completely unsure if elaborating on your past, even without context, could force you to accidentally spill something you didn’t intend to. So you took the safe route. “Not much to tell. Ran away from home, stole a horse and headed west. Found this gun in an old saloon and the rest is history.”

He saw through the act, but didn’t let on. He didn’t want you to feel like you needed to hide things, but similarly, he didn’t want you to feel pressured to talk. This camp was a safe place. As long as you kept to the rules and helped out, you didn’t need to do anything else. You could just live freely and have your being. 

“Listen, son… I know it’s probably hard to open up about things you’ve gone and left in the past. Every person here has a story, somewhere they came from or something they did. If you ever want to talk about yours, I’m always up for good conversation.”

You looked into his eyes, and they were full of contrition, full of compassion. You guessed there wasn’t a bad bone in this man’s body. 

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He nodded once before standing up and heading down to the river bank, likely to fish. 

You wonder if he has suspicion of you, or if he knows more already than he’s leading onto. But then you think, no. He’s just a kind older man that actually gives a damn about the younger folks here. He didn’t seem to have any biological sons or daughters, but this camp was full of family he could call his own.

You think you're starting to call them family, too.

Tags: @photo1030 @sheepdogchick @snoopysshark

[asendingtothestarsasone]

Waiting to hold you

Summary: A chance encounter leads you to a date with the gorgeous and sweet Jake Kiszka.

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI

Oral (female receiving), Fingering (female receiving) Unprotected Sex, Dirty talk, Biting, Soft Jake.

It was winter, bitterly cold and lonely, when I walked into the library on a Wednesday afternoon. I was sitting in a chair reading Animal Farm by George Orwell when I felt a man walk in behind me. I tried to keep reading and not pay attention, but something kept me locked onto him. As he walked up to the counter, I could hear him talking to the librarian behind me.

"Hey, I'm looking for a book. Could you help me?"

"Sure, what are you looking for?"

"I'm looking for Animal Farm. Do you, have it?"

"We sure do. Unfortunately, it looks like you're too late. That woman over there just came in and asked me the same thing."

"Huh, funny that. Looks like I'll have to find something else."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him sit down in the corner. His beautiful wavy brown hair cascading around his shoulders. My god, his shoulders and his arms, tanned and muscular. He was fit but not like the usual douchebags; he was perfect. His t-shirt hung loosely with a V-neck that showed off his silver necklaces hanging against his chest. I tried to look away, but I was a woman possessed. I needed to know him, who was he? What made him tick? Why was I drawn to him like a moth to a flame?

Opening his book, he looked me right in the eye. Oh god, he saw me. Fuck, he saw me. I tried to look away, but his piercing gaze… his eyes the color of honey. Then it hit me: his smile. It was perfect, so kind, so loving but with a hint of smirk. I knew I had to look away now before I made more of a fool of myself. I stuck my head back into my book and tried to ignore the god of a man sitting across from me, but I couldn't. I snuck a glance; he was reading Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. My god, he had taste in literature too. This was bad, very bad.

I lost myself in my book. Before I knew it, I had finished it and he was getting up to leave. This was my shot.

"Hey, I saw that you were after this? I just finished it, so feel free to take it. You could check it out and take it home."

Oh god, I sounded desperate.

"Oh, thanks, that would be great."

"No problem, anytime."

He walked out the door and I quickly went to the bathroom, splashing water on my face. Looking into the mirror, "God, why didn't I just ask him for his phone number?"

Gathering my stuff, I headed out the door, but I was immediately struck by him man leaning against the wall with a cigarette in his hand, running his hand through his hair. He walked right up to me. I was frozen in shock. He hands me a piece of paper.

"Here's my phone number."

Looking deep into my eyes, not another word was spoken. He hopped onto a gorgeous motorbike I had ever seen and was gone.

I couldn't believe it. It was like he read my mind. Once I got home, I immediately unrolled the note below his number. It read "Jake Kiszka xo". Oh god, I was in trouble. His handwriting was literally perfect. How could I possibly call him? What would I say?

As it started to get dark, I gathered the courage to call him.

"Hey, it's Jake."

"Umm, hi… I kind of met you today at the library."

"Yeah, I remember you. You're the girl that stole my book."

"Well, no, I just got there first."

Yes, that was perfect, be confident.

"Oh, that's right, ha-ha."

"So, um, why did you give me your number? Did you want some book recommendations?"

"Yeah, something like that. I was thinking more like I pick you up, we go out for drinks, then I take you back to mine."

"Oh, I see. I'm not really like that, I…"

"You didn't let me finish. Then you choose a movie, and I'll set it up on the projector in the movie room and make popcorn. After the movie, I'll drop you home. You see, I have this awesome movie room, but I've run out of ideas for films, and I thought since you had such great taste in books, I'm sure you can introduce me to some good films."

"Yeah, okay. I'm sure I could do that."

"Okay, great! Let's say an hour. Message me your address."

"Okay, sweet."

Wow, okay, that just happened. Oh, fuck, what was I going to wear? It had been ages since I'd been on a date. Rifling through my closet, I struck gold: a tight black mini skirt my sister had left behind! Now, let's see—there's that Fleetwood Mac t-shirt, those black platform boots, and a leather jacket. Perfect!

As I applied a touch of makeup, a thought crossed my mind: I don't even know this guy. He could be a total weirdo. Maybe I should do some sleuthing, get a sense of who he is. Logging into Facebook, I entered his name. Instantly, my jaw dropped. "Jake Kiszka, guitarist for Greta Van Fleet." "Greta Van Fleet wins Grammy Award for Best Rock Album." "Greta Van Fleet sells out Madison Square Garden." No way, this can't be real. But then I scrolled through some photos, and there he was—long hair, dangling necklaces. Totally lost in the moment, he looked absolutely glorious.

God, if I wasn't nervous enough already, he was a fucking rockstar, and he asked me on a date. This man could have anyone he wanted at the snap of his fingers.

Gathering all the confidence I could muster; I messaged him my address. Then I heard my phone beep, and there was the message:

"I'll be there in 10."

Before I knew it, there was a knock at my door. Opening it, I was greeted with that gorgeous smile. God, he looked good: black button-up shirt left half undone to show his necklaces, sleeves rolled up, and black jeans.

"Hey, Y/N, are you ready to go?"

"Yes, I'm ready."

Walking over to his car I hoped into the passenger side

"Hey, I think you didn't shut the door hard enough." Here, he leans over to grab the door from the inside, pulling it shut with force. By now, I am getting flustered; I can't even make eye contact with him.

"Do you mind if I smoke?"

"No not at all."

As he grabbed his packet of cigarettes and pulled one to his lips, I couldn't help but stare at his hands. He had on silver rings; his hands were big and beautiful. I let my mind wander to how they would feel holding me. As he took a puff of his cigarette, I thought I had never seen someone look so attractive smoking. Absentmindedly, I pressed my legs together and forced my eyes away. Thank God, the music started playing. Tim Buckleys' "Song to the Siren" was one of my favorites, so I started humming along.

"Oh, you know this song?"

"Yeah, it's actually one of my favorite songs"

"Huh, good taste in music too. What a talented girl."

"You can talk."

"What do you mean? What do you know of my talents hmm?"

"Oh nothing. I was just making conversation ha-ha."

I decided it would be best not to let him know I knew who he was; I didn't want to come off as a groupie.

"I see."

He gives me a mischievous look and continues driving.

After a while, we get to the bar and find our way to a table. Looking at the drink menu was overwhelming, so I quickly picked a fun cocktail. He ordered a whiskey on the rocks.

Drinking my drink as fast as possible, he kept staring at me. I was definitely going to need liquid courage tonight.

"So, tell me about yourself."

"Well, I grew up in a small town I moved here about 3 years ago."

"Oh really? what made you move here?"

"I moved here to be with my boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend but he was my boyfriend at the time."

"Yeah, I get you."

"We split up a year ago and I have just been here ever since."

"So, you don't have any family up here?"

"No."

"But you have friends though, right?

"No not really, it's just me."

The concern on his face was unexpected.

"You don't anyone to look out for you?"

"Well, no not really but I'm okay, I'm fine."

"Well, you have me now."

Looking into his eyes, something told me to trust him. The next hour was spent talking about everything from our favorite authors to our childhoods. Turns out we had so much in common. As the drinks started to work their magic, I finally felt comfortable and started coming out of my shell.

"Should we head off? a movie and some snacks sound really good right now."

"Yes, I'm ready to go."

Getting back into his car, he put on some Pink Floyd.

"You didn't shut the door properly again ha-ha."

This time, when he leaned over to shut it, his arm brushed across me. His touch was electrifying; I could smell his cologne—it was dark, musky, and smelled divine. I tried to play it cool, as if the interaction didn't make my insides do backflips, but I think he could tell. He just seemed to know without words.

Driving up to his house, I was shocked by how nice it was. Finding our way to the movie room, I sat down on the couch. It had gotten very cold since we left the bar. He quickly lit the fire, bringing warmth to the room.

"So, what movie have you go in store for us?"

"Bones and All."

"Ooh I haven't heard of that one."

"It's a newer film but its haunting and beautiful and it really stuck with me."

"It sounds perfect." He flashed me a perfect smile.

Settling on the couch, he brought out a whole table full of snacks: popcorn, candy, a fruit platter with strawberries, grapes, and melon, cheese and crackers, mini sandwiches, and even some chocolate-covered pretzels. God, he really went all out.

When he finally joined me on the couch the movie started, and he dimmed the lights.

By now I was really feeling the cold and was starting to shiver.

"Are you cold, wait here I will bring a blanket"

"No, I'm fine really"

"You are shivering, I'll be back in a second."

When he returned with the blanket, he wrapped it around me and then put his arms around me to warm me up. As we sat there in the blanket cocoon, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time. I felt safe, like I didn't have to be strong for a moment, like I could just be myself.

As the movie played, we had some snacks some more drinks I was feeling so content.

"Hay Y/n can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can."

"Can I kiss you."

"Please kiss me."

This kiss was everything when his lips touched mine all I could see where stars his lips where so soft and he was so gentle it made my heart flutter.

"I have wanted to do that since the first moment I saw you Y/N."

"Me too."

The kisses turned more passionate, and I was on cloud nine.

"Can I take you to my room?"

I was nervous but the way he looked at me made me feel brave.

"Okay."

"Are you sure only if you want to, you are totally in control here."

"I want too."

Walking into his bedroom it was so him band posters on the wall's, mood lighting, beautiful guitars everywhere and big bed with black bedding and a gorgeous fur throw. He sat on his bed and patted a spot next to him.

"Come here." He smiled at me sweetly.

As I sat down, he kissed me gently then more passionately until I was starting to feel the heat rising in my chest. I started to panic.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I Just haven't really done this, I haven't been with anyone since my ex, and he was the only one."

"The only one you have been with. Ever?"

"Well yeah."

"Listen I'm not going to hurt you I promise. If you let me, I would like to make you feel good. Thats all I want to do."

"I think I would like that."

"We can stop whenever you want."

The kisses became more passionate. I kept trying to match his fire, but he was definitely winning the battle.

He started leaving a trail of kisses down my neck until he got to the top of my bra. Pulling it down he started kissing and licking my nipple ever so genially it was driving me wild, and I dug my fingernails into his arm, but he didn't let up taking his hand to my other breast and giving it genital squeezes and rolling my nipple between his fingers. I let out a moan which seemed to make him happy. The kisses started traveling further down until he started tugging at the top of my skirt.

"Can I?"

"Please."

He pulled down my skirt and my panties.

"Wow you are so perfect."

Running his fingers over my pussy I was so wet I was soaking his fingers.

He pulled his fingers to his lips sucking them clean, before bringing his face to my pussy and beginning to lick up all the wetness. His hands were holding my legs, open and with every lick my legs were shaking.

Then he brought a finger to my entrance and started pushing it inside me until it was all the way, then he put another finger in until it was deep inside me, and continued to lick up all the wetness that was pooling. I started to feel lightheaded I could feel an orgasm about to hit and was hyperventilating but he grabbed my hand with his free one and held me while he sent me slamming into the wall of my orgasm.

I was shaking as he brought his face to mine.

"You are so beautiful like this."

He kissed me so sweetly it made my knees weak.

"We can stop here if you want or do you want to keep going?"

"Please don't stop I want to keep going."

He kissed me again this time with more fire and put his hand around my neck giving it squeeze.

"Can I fuck you baby?"

"I'm yours."

"Good girl."

He started kissing my neck again and nibbling on my ear which drove me mad.

He took himself in his hand and started rubbing his cock up and down my pussy getting it nice and wet then he lined himself up with my entrance. I was nervous but his kissed me softly and pushed it in a little bit then a little bit more taking his time and letting me get used to his size. Once it was all the way inside me, he pulled back out.

"Does that feel okay?"

"Yeah, it feels good"

"Such a good girl for me."

This time he lined it up with my entrance and slammed it to the hilt.

A loud moan left my lips.

"Do you like that princess; do you like it when I full you all the way up?"

"Yes, I love it, please don't stop."

"Don't worry baby this cock is all yours."

He started to relentlessly trust into me over and over I started to moan his name which made him feral he started to squeeze my breasts and then bite into my neck the pain mixed with the pleasure was too much and I was feeling the wave of another orgasm coming on.

"Are you gonna cum for me baby? I can feel you tensing around my cock. I wanna feel you cum all over my cock like a good girl."

His words in my ear were too much and the orgasm took over me

"Such a good little princess, cum for me"

I let go and felt the release of my orgasm throughout my whole body and I could feel my wetness soak him.

"Holy fuck Y/N."

The feeling of me cumming around his cock was too much for him and he lost his composure.

"Oh, fuck Y/N I'm going to cum.

"Please fill me up."

I could feel him tense inside of me and his warm cum filling me up.

He pulled out of me and pulled me into his arms giving me kisses on the forehead and playing with my hair until I fell asleep.

As I was drifting off to sleep, I heard him whisper.

"Get some rest baby, you're going to need it.

[jungle-angel]

While He Was Sleeping (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: Bob's parents have been together for close to 30 years, but there's a little secret to how they met

Warnings: Weed smoking, concert shenanigans, Bob's uncles all being complete morons etc.

Notes: For @sorchathered for the RomCom prompts!!! I did kinda deviate a little bit from the story, but my darling, please enjoy (lol).

30 years........30 years to that day Bob's family had been together and you and him could hardly believe it.

The whole Floyd family had convened en masse to the ranch in Montana to celebrate, but at the end of the day it was just you, Bob and his parents, the four of you sitting out by the firepit in the waning evening light, the haze of late spring having set fully over Bozeman and the bright red disk of the sun fully visible in the sky.

"Holy hell what a day," Joe sighed as he pulled Irene close to him.

"Good day, Dad?" Bob asked him.

"Yeah, just exhausting," he said. "Wasn't expecting that many people to show up."

"I'm surprised your brother's brain still works," Irene chuckled as the flames crackled.

"What do you mean?" you asked, laughing a little.

"Bobby never told you?" Joe asked. "Jeez, I thought that story ran rife in the family."

You looked at your husband who in turn grew sheepish. "What happened with your uncle?"

"Um......I.....I don't remember......" Bob said, trying to hide the laugh that was threatening to come out.

"Oh I do," Joe chuckled. "Eyeballs, you remember this one?"

"Oh indeed I do," Irene laughed. "Because that's the story about how we met."

Your eyes went wide, yourself smiling as your jaw hung open.

"Alright, my guess is it's storytime," Joe said, making himself comfortable in the Budweiser camp chair. "Back in the late 70s, me and my brothers decided we were gonna sneak into a Doobie Brothers concert with a few friends of ours."

"Summer of '79 right?" Irene queried.

"Yep," Joe replied. "Us five idiots had piled into the back of our friend's Vista Cruiser and headed off to the stadium to go see'em in Oklahoma City. Concert was great, until Chris decided he was gonna actually smoke a doobie."

You and Bob laughed a little bit. Bob's uncle, Chris, had always been the straight laced one in the family, a very well respected police officer just like Bob's brother, Michael.

"Anywho....." Irene said, giving her husband 'the look'.

"Anywho," Joe continued. "Chris is high out of his mind by the time the concert gets out and walks himself right into a fuckin lamp-post on the way back to the car. He's not moving of course, so we've gotta book it right to the hospital. We get there and the nurses completely freak so they test him and fin out he's concussed."

You and Bob both grimaced at the image.

"So us idiots are waiting," Joe explained. "When lo and behold I see this gorgeous lady coming in because a friend of theirs was so loaded that she ended up eating shit on the pavement."

You and Bob shouldn't have laughed, but you were, the two of you letting out a piggish snort.

"Oh my God," Irene laughed. "Cheryl Anne was more than loaded. She was giving the nurses a hard time and I needed some air."

"So she goes out and I'm thinking that maybe I should talk her up a little bit," Joe chuckled.

"Yeah, Chief Running-Of-The-Mouth is hitting on me while his partner, Afraid-Of-Crotch-Hair is near the dumpster and has just lit his pants on fire," Irene remarked.

"Nobody knew he had a lit roach in his pocket, dear," Joe reminded her.

By this time, you and Bob could barely breathe, let alone stop laughing. "Dad what the hell.....?" Bob squeaked in between laughing fits.

"Do you even remember what we were talking about that night?" Irene asked Joe.

"I think it had something to do with the furniture," Joe theorized. "You were leaning kinda funny on it."

"There was something else too," Irene added.

"What was that?" Joe asked her.

"Chris asked me when it was the two of us fell in love," Irene told him. "I told him it was while you were sleeping."

Joe's forehead came to rest against Irene's, and yours against Bob's. Who would have thought, that his father had found the same romance that the two of you had found all those years ago.

[demonslayedher]

Things that went through my head while watching this episode: --"it's so nice to be able to get wrapped up in this and know about I'm about to get new content" was certainly something that went through my head by the end of the episode, but I was also reminded of how it felt a little too drawn out and over saccharine, and how the extra long length of this episode did not feel it served it fully well. I've come to be more forgiving of the excess happy fluff at the end of this season, and I will defend it as follows, but I still would have preferred they reign it in a little so we don't forget about how hard-won that battle was with how chipper and energetic everyone is.

--But you know what? They deserve it. They are functioning on the rush of relief, and it took a while for them all to gather down there on the grass. Like, it's kind of sweet that the people who first got to celebrate this victory with the Kamado siblings were a trio of swordsmiths who would have felt awful if Nezuko had to die on their accord. These weren't even swordsmiths whom Tanjiro hung out with much, but their lives were just as worthy.

--It was nice to see the group celebration expanded on a bit, but I think what got me feeling like it was overdone was seeing Mitsuri be overwhelmed with gratitude specifically on Nezuko's behalf too, since she was the one not to witness the peril Nezuko was in. I feel it was enough to have have Mitsuri be relieved on everyone's behalf, and to have her be shocked that Nezuko is there in sunlight, which is cute and funny. No need to quite rehash what Tanjiro has just momentously been through. And this is coming from some who really, really loves Mitsuri & Nezuko interaction. It would have been totally in-character to have left Mitsuri blissfully unaware of how awful Nezuko's experience was unless someone point-blank tells her that Nezuko almost didn't make it. Then the extra gratitude specifically for Nezuko would feel earned.

--And my gosh, Ufotable, you sure sold Nezuko's pain. I am still so impressed.

--I also initially did not like just how playful it is to have Nezuko and Tanjiro running away from Haganezuka, because it takes me out of how much peril they were just in. But hey, if there are two characters who are totally fine, it is Nezuko (the being the point that she is way more than fine) and Haganezuka (who will always have energy for enacting sword justice).

--But hey, besides that? Sure, it's pleasant to see them be so happily relieved. This isn't even "we defeated two Upper Moons" triumph, it's just "we're alive, Nezuko is in the sun, Muichiro remembers things, we're alive, we're alive, we're alive." Like, a littttle bit more "WHOA, THOSE WERE UPPER MOONS" like after defeating Gyutaro & Daki would have been nice.

--And like........ that whole final scene... it has its very cute points, just getting to see the swordsmiths interact more since this was their season to have some well-deserved spotlight, both for the work they do and as characters. But it played that "everyone loves Kamado Tanjiro (but he never takes the credit)" note a little too loud. Some things play more nicely with subtlety, but hey, Ufotable wanted to go out with a triumphant statement. I want to be forgiving of that, but... those villagers were busy trying to hurry out of that village. : / And I really hope that Genya, Muichiro, and Mitsuri got the same treatment, but I doubt anybody went collecting confetti each time.

--So anyway, setting those grievances aside!!

--MUZAN MONOLOGUE. Like, it was good, but it always give me flashbacks to Nomura Mansai's Muzan monologue in the Noh rendition, which was chilling. Still, this anime version was great, and I love me all those extra touches they expanded his Heian life with. Muzan isn't all that complicated of a villain. He was always spiteful human who wanted to take out his frustration by destroying other people. Then he got power, but spending half of his time on the brink of death for a thousand years is like being spit in the face. Sure, you're powerful, buddy, until somebody opens a window. And I like that Muzan is uncomplicated. It's his utter disregard for others that made him a villain in the first place, and he has never and will never change.

--And that is why one of my favorite Muzan moments ever is how he doesn't even both to pick his feet up or step around the two corpses on the floor as he exits the room. Other people really are nothing but furniture to him, and that little action--or lack of action, rather-- speaks so loudly about his character.

--Imagine how different the rest of the series would have been if Hantengu's head didn't spin in Nezuko's direction?

--Nezuko's victory over the sun deserves how much it got milked, because in the context of the series, she had in fact made the greatest achievement of any character in this series. Sure, Tanjiro has just killed Upper Moon Four, but it only took the Corp a little over a hundred years to accomplish killing an Upper Moon. Nezuko, within three years of being turned into a demon, has accomplished what Muzan has failed to do for over a thousand years. What's more, this is entirely through Nezuko's own power; there was no one who could have helped her accomplish this. Tamayo could only observe with wonder.

--Truly, Nezuko has "prioritized" this over, say, reattaining her sense of self. I see Nezuko's demon development as being a bit infantile. When she was first "born," so to speak, she was not aware of herself as an individual being, only that she hungered, and that she had just undergone some terrible loss, and that Tanjiro was all she had left. After a little sleep it got easily to process that Tanjiro was someone who she understood, and even as she started to gain some sense of self, it revolved around Tanjiro and his welfare. Listening to Urokodaki and Tanjiro as she slept, and perhaps seeing memories of her family as she dreamed probably put together something more basic, but she probably did not remember anything more than her family's faces and how deeply she cares about them. I think little by little as she started gaining more of an awareness of others as individuals and appreciating that there is more in the world she enjoys than just her brother's wellbeing, she probably gained more and more of an understanding of being someone named Nezuko and having a mission to fight demons with everyone else she has come to care about, and with, a high level of ability to understand language, but because she had the muzzle this whole time, she had no need to try to use words herself, so she didn't prioritize this either.

--I bring that all up just to say that she might have (without words) been thinking, "oh, I know what this is called. This is 'morning.' People are supposed to say something, what it is? Oh, right! Gu--gOoD mOrnNinG~"

--And then it's like, "OH, I CAN COMMUNICATE!!! THIS IS FUN!!!!! NEW POWER!!!"

--So proud of you, Nezuko

--I like that Ufotable stressed her daytime eyes still looking very inhuman. It stresses how something is still very off about her existence. Nobody is used to seeing a daytime demon. (I prefer her nighttime eyes, though.)

--But also that is such Kimetsu Logic to do a thing and then explain the thing without spoiling it. Thank you for your letter, Tamayo-san.

--Now, Tanjiro, though. You know that he's making it harder and harder to uphold Corp rules about what makes a Pillar. Haha, no, Tanjiro is no Pillar! He only cut the heads off those Twelve Moon demons because he had Pillars helping him! Haha, somehow he is still the same rank as Zenitsu and Inosuke after chopping the head off Upper Moon Four! (Zenitsu and Inosuke, what the fresh hell have you two been up to in order to match rank with Tanjiro???)

--But also, it is wicked cool how Tanjiro is just turns the Mark on now like a lightswitch, and that Ufotable switches up in the animation in a way that shows he's going at full throttle. (Meanwhile, our Marked Pillar friends looked just a little more blithe than their usual blithe selves.)

--I find it totally legit that he could suddenly use Thunder Breath, since Sun Breath is the source of all of them, so the concepts would be the same anyway.

--Those last hits Tanjiro gets in on Hantengu too, very cool. I love how many tries it takes to get that hit, too! Hantengu is full of surprises and I have come to appreciate him a lot more over the course of this rewatch. If I ever, say, get a skiddish hamster, maybe I'll name it Hante or something.

--Love the sound design on the mountain setting, especially when Muichiro calls out to Tanjiro from up on the cliff. That sounded SO GOOD in the theater.

--Also, just, a huge shout out to all of Ufotable's construction of settings. Really, really, wonderful.

--And the sounds on SUCH A REALISTIC PANIC ATTACK, and movements, right now to how Tanjiro's fingers shake. Man, way to stress me out. I sort of what to speed it all up to see how quick this all went down as Tanjiro was panicking, but the only parts that were really slowed down were watching Hantengu run. It was all so painfully slow and was all happening too fast. What an awful moment.

--and I can't wait for Tanjiro to reflect back on that when talking with Himejima

--This episode was Nezuko's biggest triumph, but at least for a few moments, it was also Tanjiro's biggest loss.

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

Hey, Amee!! I hope you’re doing well <3

If by any chance you’re up to it, could you please write a fic about Heist Mark being super jealous of Yancy because he and Y/N clearly seem to be into each other?? I LOVE your art and writings and I couldn’t get this idea out of my head <3 (Obviously no pressure, though!)

I'm so happy to hear you enjoy my work, thank you🥺💖 and thank you for your request! it got me out of a terrible writer's block. on that note, sorry this took quite some time, I've been in a bit of a funk of on and off general creative block, and unable to finish any writing at all for even longer. this was a pretty fun challenge! I myself view Yancy platonically so I wasn't quite sure where to go with this initially, and I had to fight every urge to just make this heist mark x y/n dfsjsjsv. that said, it did end up being more heist mark-centric than maybe you intended? in which case, I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself😔 yancy is there but very briefly haha

Don't you tell me that you never even thought, 'maybe we could run'

2,603 words | Read on AO3

‘We're all gonna be rehearsing tomorrow so youse best get some sleep.’

You nod as you close the gate to yours and Mark's shared cell, stifling a yawn.

‘Goodnight, Yancy.’

You hold each other's gaze for a moment, before he turns and heads off, a tattooed hand over the back of his neck and a sweet smile still on his face. You watch as he disappears into the outer hallway and a guard appears to lock up your cell for the evening.

Your long-time accomplice and friend stands at the edge of your vision, arms folded.

‘Having fun with your new boyfriend, buddy?’ he asks, sounding unimpressed and slightly strained.

‘Oh, shush, Mark,’ you chide, but your stomach flips at the notion.

‘Yeah… Well, while you were busy playing Broadway,’ he glances to either side of the cell outside and continues in a lowered voice, ‘I've been hard at work hatching our escape. And I'm telling you, it's foolproof.’

‘Uh huh. As foolproof as your other three failed plans? I really don't wanna get thrown in solitary again.’

‘Please, that was one time! — and I don't see you bothering to come up with any ideas. Even though you pretty much got us into this mess.’

That accusation ticks you off, but you're quick to retaliate.

‘Are you seriously still hung up on that? How is this my fault? You couldn't fly a helicopter, why would you assume I can? You shouldn't have even presented it as an option!’

Your exclamation earns you a couple looks from other inmates slowly filing into their cells for the night.

‘Nevermind that now,’ Mark says, infuriatingly placatingly, ‘do you wanna hear the plan or not?’

The thread of uncertainty that you've been avoiding coils tight in your chest and you pause, wondering how to bring up what's been nagging at you for days.

‘Um, so, I've been thinking. What if… what if we don't try to escape?’

‘Ha ha. Funny joke, pal.’

‘I'm serious, Mark. We could just… stay here and wait out our sentence, if we play it safe we might even get our time reduced on good behaviour. We could be gone in like a decade. Or a few years! Maybe. Probably. Maybe.’ Wishful thinking, perhaps.

He scoffs, as if the idea isn't even worth considering.

‘There is no way you're genuinely telling me to just wait it out. Maybe you haven't noticed since you've been in la-la land lately, but we're not on vacation, we're in prison,’ Mark spouts, voice growing thick with agitation. ‘What was supposed to be the heist of a lifetime, would've set us up for decades to come, is still on the line! And we're on a bit of a time crunch here — I don't trust that warden guy one bit with the Box, or in general,’ he sneers. ‘I mean what kind of name is Murder-Slaughter? Ugh, do we even know for sure if he still has it?’

‘Yancy mentioned seeing it in his office the last time he was there, which was earlier today, so yeah, probably.’

‘Ugh, there you go again about Yancy. It's always Yancy this, Yancy that, blah blah blah, Yancy!’

‘Wh– I was just answering your question!’

‘Y'know what? I'm sick and tired of being the only one taking this seriously while you act like it's all a big party.’

He places a hand on his hip, the other poking a finger towards you as he speaks. It would be comical, if he wasn't acting like a jerk.

‘What's up with you?’

‘What's up with me? What's up with you? You seriously wanna stay in this— this shithole, ‘cause of what? Some pretty face you've known for all of like, less than two weeks??’

‘Oh my God, Mark, it's not that terrible, and Yancy is actually my friend, he's been nothing but welcoming and kind since we got here, and—’

‘Oh, did you forget that he tried to beat you up when you first met? Real interesting, how you let that little detail slip.’

‘We just got off on the wrong foot, he's really—’

It's then that you see it — something in the slight hunch in his gait, the furrow of his brow, his pursed lips and tense jaw — and you wonder why you hadn't noticed before. It's not just anger and frustration, it's something bitter and personal.

‘Mark… are you jealous?’

Bingo. His eyes only widen a sliver, for a fraction of a second, but you're so used to reading him that even the most imperceptible of reactions on his usually very expressive face have become familiar to you.

‘Psh. I'm not jealous.’

‘You so are jealous! Oh my god, you're super duper jealous,’ you say with a grin, revelling in this new information.

‘Shut up, why would I be jealous?’ he protests, trying to sound nonchalant. But it's too late. You've already seen through it.

‘Is that what this is about?’ you say with a laugh. ‘You just want my attention back or something?’

He stares blankly for a moment.

‘Are you serious right now? You actually think the only reason I'm mad is because some random dude just waltzes in and starts acting all buddy buddy with you and you fall head-over-heels,’ he jeers with his hands either side of his face, fluttering his eyelashes mockingly. ‘Hook, line and sinker.’

‘Mark—’

‘I mean, never mind your partner, right? You know, your best friend who you've known and worked with for years? Who cares what he thinks?!’

‘Mark, I—’

‘In fact, he can get punched through a wall for all you care! You won't even bat an eye, as long as there's a random spontaneous musical number immediately afterwards, it's all in good fun!’

‘Ok, that's not fair,’ you push back. ‘Of course I was worried! But I was also surrounded by violent criminals at the time, we've been over this!’

‘Oh, so they're “violent criminals” now? But they're simply “hurt, misunderstood souls” when it suits you?!’ he shoots back, making air quotes to emphasise his point.

‘They're people, Mark! They're allowed to be… multi-faceted!’

‘Lights out, everybody,’ comes a guard's voice, ringing through the hallway as it suddenly becomes dark, save for the glow of dim lamplight emanating from one or two of the other cells.

‘Whatever, let's just get some sleep,’ Mark grumbles under his breath.

‘You always do this!’ you whisper harshly, but inadvertently let the volume slip back into your voice as you feel your blood boil. ‘You try to cut things off and act like the “bigger person” just to get out of an argument that, newsflash, YOU'RE LOSING.’

‘Oh, whatever, what-f*cking-ever!’

‘You're being so damn overdramatic, Mark! It's not like I'm trying to break up our team.’

‘Yeah, well– well maybe we should!’

You don't know why it jolts you like a gunshot when he says it, but it does. His words, the force and resentment behind them, pierce you to your core. It stops any quick-fire response you had at the ready in its tracks.

Regret immediately flashes across his face, but he quickly attempts to cover it with a steely, hardened gaze. ‘Clearly, we want different things. So maybe it's for the best.’

‘Hey!’ one of the guards calls out from across the hall. ‘Lights out means quiet, you two. Don't make us separate you into different cells.’

With a frustrated huff, you reluctantly traipse off to bed, yours being the lower half of the bunk while Mark settles above you.

It really is a rather decent bed. The mattress is nothing special, but comfortable, and the soft blanket is accompanied by an oddly luxurious, fluffy pillow. Definitely above what you'd expect is probably average prison standards. Frankly, you don't know what Mark's problem is with this place. It's honestly not half bad. As far as you expect jails go, it surely could be a lot worse.

You lay back and let your breathing even out, trying your best to allow some of the bubbling anger to die down. Eventually, you hear the guards leave.

Time passes, it could be minutes or hours; it's not like the passage of time has felt right at all to you since that last heist.

It's silent, save for the sound of your breaths and Mark's above you. You're still upset with him, but the sound of him breathing nearby has always been oddly comforting. The two of you have had plenty of close calls as a pair — even times when you had to patch each other up after jobs that went particularly badly. If you got injured on a heist, you couldn't simply call an ambulance or show up at a hospital in an emergency and risk having your whole operation blown. That was simply the nature of your line of work.

At the worst of times, as long as you could hear those steady, even breaths, you could tell yourself he would pull through, and things would be fine.

You idly watch the mattress above you, letting the rhythm of your friend's breathing become a gentle white noise, and think.

You think about that heist and the Box. Ancient, coveted, mysterious. Sitting atop its perch in the museum vault, in all its glory and allure, practically asking to be stolen. The gleam of the gem encrusted in its surface. You wonder if the prize held within would be worth all of this, if you managed to get it back.

You think about Yancy, a little rough and a little troubled and not seeing much point in trying to kick old habits; but fun and soft and sensitive and full of remorse. You think about the feeling of your hand in his when you practise a routine with him, how his whole face lights up when he's excited or falls when he's sad or pensive. You think about how he has made this penitentiary into a home, and these inmates into a family.

You think about Mark. Silly, stupid, steadfast Mark, snarky and thoughtful and loyal. Who isn't actually as dumb as he lets on. Who is resourceful and quick-thinking when a plan needs to be formed. Who makes bad puns and trusts you whole-heartedly, and who always lets you decide which course of action to take, no matter how much he disagrees, simply due to his unwavering faith in you. Mark, your co-worker, your friend, your partner in crime. Who is maybe a little enamoured with you, despite you trying to ignore it. Who you half-heartedly agreed to go on a date with, not having it in you to turn him down, nor prepared for the guilt that would be eating away at you now.

You think about one of the first things he told you when you landed yourselves at Happy Trails: About how he doesn't belong here, but maybe you do. What if he were to leave and you were to stay? The thought breaks your heart a little.

Then, a whisper from above into the quiet, gently interrupting your thoughts.

‘Hey, you still awake?’

‘...Yeah.’

You hear his voice, soft-spoken, but clear enough that you can hear the sincerity laced into it.

‘I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so worked up.’

‘Yeah, I'm sorry too,’ you reply, matching his volume.

‘And I didn't mean it,’ he says, and you think you hear the slightest tremble in the statement, almost as if he's fighting tears, and for a second you wish you could see his face, ‘what I said before, about uh, splitting up. I know I joke about that kind of thing all the time, and not coming back for you… But you know I don't really mean it, right?’

You've certainly had your doubts in the past, but those moments seem so far away now; footnotes in a slowly unfolding tale, stepping stones on the journey the pair of you have taken together as you worked your way from theft to theft to get to this point. As much as you'd butt heads over the years, you could always count on each other and you always stuck together.

‘Right?’

‘Yeah, I know…’

‘...And, alright, your lack of interest in breaking out aside, maybe I am kinda jealous.’

‘Ha! I knew it.’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ He sighs. ‘It's just… it took us a while to be like we are now and yet, you're suddenly so close to him when it hasn't even been that long, it just doesn't feel fair. I dunno, it's stupid.’

‘Nah, I get it. I'm sorry if I made you feel left behind.

‘And I'm sorry if I ever made you feel pressured into something you're actually just not all that into.’

You feel a bit of tension leave your chest as a small smile appears on your face. ‘I appreciate that.’

In some ways you're grateful for the small bed separating you and preventing you from being face to face. You think it makes this easier for both of you.

‘I don't want to lose you, y'know? I mean, we're supposed to be partners. Ride or die, remember?’

‘Oh, Mark… You know I still trust you with my life…’ You pause, considering your words. ‘For the first time in ages, things feel a little more complicated than just being about us.’

A beat, then you hear him inhale, and he says your name, foregoing any of his usual nicknames.

‘...Are you… happy here? Does he make you happy?’

‘There's things I miss about freedom, sure, but it's not so bad here. And let's face it, our crimes were probably gonna catch up to us eventually, one way or another, right? And Yancy…’ You let out the smallest huff of laughter, smiling to yourself once again. ‘You're right, it hasn't been very long… There's just something about him, I guess. I know he might be a little much at times but I enjoy being around him, and he honestly seems like he wants to make up for things he's done in the past by being here. Maybe nothing will come of this but even so, in a weird way, he kind of makes me want to do better?’

Mark breathes a good-natured huff of laughter as well, and the two of you take a moment to muse on the irony of that sentiment.

‘I just– I can't handle being stuck here,’ he finally says. ‘But you're right, nothing I've tried so far has worked, anyway.’

‘Y'know… Yancy knows all the ins and outs of this place. He could probably help us if we wanted it.’

‘Do you want it?’

Do you want to leave or stay? The real question beneath it all.

You're quiet again, and it feels as if every possibility is laid out before you, only obscured.

‘I don't know,’ you say eventually. ‘I need more time to think. I just don't want you to think I'm making a choice between you or him, there's so many other things I need to consider. That we need to consider.’

‘That's fair… Just don't take too long, ok? Not like we can pause or rewind time, haha.’

‘Right… In the meantime, could you at least try to get along with Yancy and the others? You might like them if you give them a chance.’

‘... Fine, I'll try,’ he acquiesces.

You raise a hand to your mouth to cover a yawn. A far more comfortable silence falls over the room, and you start to feel sleep overtake you.

‘... Hey, Mark?’

‘Yeah?’

‘We're still partners.’

If nothing else, you hope this will reassure him.

‘...Ok. Sweet dreams, partner.’

[thehollowwriter]

Summary: Set in an alternate universe where Silas accepted his NRC letter, another student recounts his time observing this strange first year (repost bc I didn't like the original but I'm still not too happy with it so idk anymore lol)

Warnings: Violence, blood, ableism, self-harm (mentioned), probably full of mistakes. Word count: 2408

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤️)

Silas

During my three years at NRC, never has a student caught my interest the way Silas did.

The kid didn't have any last name. He was called up to the mirror dead last, after most students had lost interest in the repetitive ceremony and began talking amongst themselves.

You didn't get a good look at him from your seat, but even you could tell he was small. Tiny, even.

He was dwarfed in size by even average height first years, and he was incredibly skinny. He stood with his hands at his sides, long black claws catching the light of the candles.

He was placed in Diasomnia, the same dorm as I. He didn't have any reaction to

his placement that I could see.

I kept my eye on him as we all filed out the mirror chamber and made our way to our respective dorms. He kept away from the others, glancing at his surroundings and flexing his fingers.

I got a better look at him then. He was pale as death, the only darker shades being the scars and dark purple scales covering his face. His hood was pulled down, revealing the tangled rats nest that was his hair. He was a merfolk, large purple earfins rugged, damaged, and torn. His cheeks, well, they were skeletal. Hollowed out, giving his cheekbones more definition than what was comfortable. He wore large black sunglasses, and that fascinated me because it meant we finally had a deep sea merfolk student.

Our dorm leader gave his little welcome speech, and it was hard to tell if Silas was even listening.

Silas was fascinating to me. Silent as a grave and very anti-social, even for a member of Diasomnia, he was a mystery waiting to be solved.

He had an intense, threatening aura that made other students steer clear.

I thought I just felt a passing curiosity at first. But I soon found myself listening in whenever Silas' name was mentioned, taking note of any detail, or silently observing him... I didn't follow him! I wasn't stalking, of course not, but sometimes I just had to know where he was doing or what he was doing. It was simple curiosity.

Silas turned out to be a troublemaker. He rarely obeyed his professors and never came to the many detentions he was given. He ignored curfew and wandered around at night, even leaving the premises entirely. Nobody knew where he went, but he was always oddly... wet when he got back.

He never wore the uniform properly, either. When he first put on our dorm uniform, it truly showed how small he was. It hung off him, loose and baggy despite being such a small size, showing off his all too frail and bony body.

He spent his nights working, too. I once found him in Diasomnia's lounge at about 3am, doing homework.

He was holding his pen so tightly I feared it would snap, writing at a painstakingly slow pace. Every letter was drawn one careful line at a time, and for once, his expression changed, brows furrowing in a mix of frustration and intense concentration.

I watched him work for a long time. He worked in utter darkness without any lamps or even candles, and he didn't stop until his he was finished, though his earfins would flick every now and then, and I feared he'd noticed me, but... he didn't turn around. So I relaxed.

Silas was hot gossip often. Every week or so, there was some new shocking thing he had done that had everyone's tongues flapping as they whispered amongst themselves and tried to understand the utter mystery that was this odd student.

It was funny how quickly every incident escalated.

At first, it was when he was cleared to take off the sunglasses. His light amethyst eyes were soul-piercing, but also so... dead. It was almost disturbing to look at, even for me. Although his gaze was intense and frightening, his eyes were dull and lifeless, accentuated by his heavy eyebags.

He would silently stare at his professors throughout his entire lesson, every lesson. He rarely wrote things down. It was creepy, and even our esteemed teachers were uncomfortable with him and dreaded having class with him.

Then, it was his obedience. Silas never responded to his professors when they spoke, apart from maybe some vague gestures. I've seen him interact with them before. He looked wary whenever they spoke directly to him, his hands twitching at his sides whenever they moved suddenly or raised their voice at him. After some time, they'd give up and give him detention if he had gotten in trouble, even if it was in vain since he never came to detention at all.

After that, it was his cane, an unexpected development. I supposed it was because he was a merfolk, but it seemed to be for another medical reason. Of course, that isn't the shocking part. The shocking part is how quick he was to raise it against another student when they tried to kick it out from under him. Deserved, if you ask me.

Then, there was the incident that seemed to send shock waves through the entire school, after the first vears began doing duels.

"He stabbed himself," said one of Silas' classmates, looking pale and disturbed. "H-He slashed his palm open and used to the blood to... to cast some fucked up spell. He tried to kill his opponent a-and didn't stop casting until the professors stopped him by force."

"What the hell kind of magic was that?" Said another. "The professor didn't even know what it was!"

"He stained his fingertips with blood and used it to draw something in the air and..."

"His opponent nearly died from whatever the hell that was... how do you even describe something like that?"

Silas wielded some unknown, foreign form of magic that he would not explain no matter how much he was prodded and pushed. He would simply stare back at whoever was talking to him, his fingers flexing and claws tapping against his sides.

"It's abyssal magic," was the quiet whisper against the uproar of theories, from a prince of the Sunset Savanna. "You need blood or animal remains to use it. It sounds just like abyssal magic."

How fascinating.

I tried researching it. Nothing came up. Whenever I asked professors or fellow students, they would look at me in confusion or ask if I meant cosmic magic. Even now, I know almost nothing about it.

This just made me infinitely more curious about Silas and my... well, not stalking, my observations extended to mealtimes.

Silas was very rarely seen in the cafeteria. Apart from the few times he went there, nobody has seen him eat anything at all.

When he did go to the cafeteria, it was always the same procedure. Show up, get whatever seafood was there, then sit in the furthest corner of the cafeteria, where the crowd was sparse and the lighting was dim.

He'd pick at his food, eating tiny pieces one at a time and acting like he was afraid it would suddenly disappear.

I always made sure to be discreet in my observations, even if I felt confident that I would go unnoticed.

I wasn't careful enough, though. One night, when I once again found myself watching Silas do homework, he stopped his mind-numbingly slow writing and turned to stare right at me.

The full weight of his gaze was terrifying.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" He rasped, and my stomach churned, and my skin crawled. Those dull dead eyes bore into me with no visible emotion, and his voice was deep and strained, but so very soft.

I remember being shocked as well. That was the first time I had ever heard or seen Silas speak. My mind was a mess, scrambling to wrap itself around the idea of Silas not being deaf or mute like I had thought.

"You can talk?!"I squeaked out before I could stop myself.

"Yeah."Said Silas. "And I can see, too. Ya think I don't notice ya standing in the corner n' starin' at me all the time?"

He spoke slowly, putting careful effort into pronouncing each word.

"Stop."

I stared at him, slack-jawed.

"Leave me alone," Silas continued, his voice just as soft as it was before. He didn't say anything further, but he did start flexing his fingers like he always did when talking to people, and I suddenly realised that I was very alone with Silas in the middle of night, and no-one knew I had left my room.

A sudden sense of dread that filled me, and every alarm bell went off in my brain at once. I left, walking so that my back was never to him, slowly edging towards the door to the hallway. Those awful eyes, shrouded in shadows, followed me the entire way. I still felt watched even as I closed the door.

I cannot fully explain the fear I felt that night. It was almost primal, like my brain was telling me I was prey being stalked by a predator. I never felt afraid of him before, not even with the stories.

Was it because it was so late and dark? Was it because of those claws, long and sharp and startlingly similar to Cleacoves'? Was it those eyes, those eyes that looked so haunted?

I don't know. I just don't know.

I ceased my observations after that. "Curiosity killed the cat" is a phrase I never cared for, but it felt very much applicable here considering Silas' unpredictable nature.

It was odd, though. This sense that something would happen to me if I ignored him. Apart from one or two incidents that were really not that serious, he's never attacked anyone out of nowhere before. At least, aside from the whole duel situation.

Anyways, my days of playing detective were done, and I only spared Silas a passing glance from then on.

Everything seemed to calm down. Stories about Silas got lesser as his odd behaviour became boring and repetitive, and the gossip was replaced with something new. Everything was normal again.

Then, something happened.

It happened in the cafeteria. A group of older students had decided to make it their business to harass Silas, taking glee in messing with this small, quiet first year.

Students trying to bully and pick on Silas wasn't anything new, and I knew better than trying to observe, but... I couldn't help it. The moment I heard their loud, obnoxious voices, my attention was fully on them.

"Hey, speak up, pipsqueak!" The laughs and jeers of the crowd of third years gathered around where Silas was sitting could be heard even from where I sat, raising above the din of the cafeteria.

Silas ignored them.

"Come on, you're meant to look your seniors in the eye when they talk to you!" Said one.

Silas didn't respond. He simply stared at his lap, visibly tense, with his hands pressed flat against the table top.

"C'mon, answer! You aren't deaf, are you?" Said another, who then turned to the rest and asked, "Is he a mute or something?"

"No, he talks." Someone answered. "Barely. Not much worth listening to, though. He ain't all that clever. Sounds like he's never been to school in his life."

"That so?" The group's de facto leader, whose name I think was Cade Stobek, leaned down and jabbed Silas in the shoulder. "Come on, then, talk. You won't last long here if you don't learn to respect your seniors."

I wondered if I should intervene... and maybe check Silas' pulse. His deceivingly pale face and lifeless eyes made him look like he'd died right there.

"Maybe he's one of those prudes who don't talk till they're done eating." Someone else said. "Eric's family is like that. Silence at the table until everyone's finished."

"Eh? Is that it, then?" Stobek asked Silas. "Your fish is more important than your seniors?"

He made a grab at the plate of sushi in front of Silas and held it above his head, and suddenly, the sound of glass breaking pierced through the noise of the cafeteria, closely followed by a muffled scream.

Absolutely silence befell the room as students turned from where they were standing or sitting or walking to find Silas gripping Stobek by the hair and holding him in place.

Choked gasps and muffled gurgles filled the silence as blood slowly dribbled from the now broken bottom end of the table's small flower vase being being forced into his throat and onto his pristine uniform, staining it red.

Silas took the plate out of Stobek's trembling hands and released him, letting him fall unceremoniously to the floor.

Stobek's buddies exploded into a series of screams and shouts of alarm, gathering around him and waving their pens.

There was a brief pause, a moment of stillness, and then the rest of the student body followed, a wailing upoar of shock and confusion bouncing off the walls and reaching a crescendo of panicked chaos.

Silas drew his lips back and stared at them all in a silent hiss, earfins pinned back and monstrously sharp teeth glinting in the light. Then, he popped a piece of sushi into his mouth and walked away.

I never saw Silas after that. I don't know what happened, but I'm pretty sure he was expelled or at least suspended as the school desperately tried to scrub the stain a student's murder left on their image.

School was suspended for a few days as the mess with dealt with, but eventually, life carried on. At least, for the rest of us, it did. I'm sure it was a horrible time for Mr Stobek's family and friends. Eventually, I graduated, and my NRC days and the ever lingering memories of Silas' presence were left behind.

I still think about him, though. It's been years, and still, I cannot forget those eyes. That night. I think....I think if I haven't left, I probably would have ended up like Stobek. In a casket, my family demanding justice from someone who... doesn't exist. Silas has no ID, nor does the Coral Sea have any records of his birth.

I can't help but wonder if I went to school with a ghost, or maybe it was all a bad dream that I'm confusing with real life.

Hah... I really hope it's the latter

...........................................

A/N: I hope you guys like this ons better though I didn't change much

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @the-banana-0verlord @cloudcountry

@skriblee-ksk @twstinginthewind @lumdays @theolivetree123 @natsukishinomiyaswife

@authoruio @jewelulu @raguiras @honeynclove @moonyasnow

@skibidibabygirl @paperclvps

[m4rs-ex3]

ra.h ooga rbroobgarahahrhhagit. ä

so at first i was like "PHEW the shadowpaw's with them" and then i was like "the shadowpaw's...... still..... with them" so pray for my baby

i am SO pumped for this side quest line-up. also i love how corvus is just like " tf??? "

what a beautiful kiss! happy pride month amiright!! we're in danger!!!

eeheehee this is from 6x01

now this. this is interesting. i suppose claudia got over her lil fit and just came back to terry like "ok yea hey baby i can barely walk 😞" which is admittedly very funny to me. it's like a child "running away" for like 20 minutes. also admittedly i was quite glad that terry was getting tf outta there but yk him just brushing her hair (n i swear i can see a cute lil smile) is absolutely adorable so i'm gonna just let y'all do ur thing (although claudia i do have my eye on you.) on another note i see claudia's fit hung up so OH MY GOD i'm getting hyped for an outfit change.

yeah this gets its own post

i know exactly (okay i'm like 99.9999% sure) what's going on here but idk are we still pretending the secret scene is still secret? i'll just say that @raayllum you were spot on in a certain fic

the most interesting thing to me here is the moon collar, but as it has been pointed out you can see the frozen ship in some shots so i'm hoping that this is just a quick skirmish before the starscraper

ok the perspective here is fucking with me. cuz that's definitely a tiny lil callum and rayla in the center their, but the dynamics with the shadows and the dimensions of this room..... the math ain't mathin. now i am trying my damnedest to not connect every size-dubious thing to "i swallowed her" but i cannot help it

so we're just playing monkey in the middle with the thing now?? anyway ASTRID MY GIRL i love her sm already. now i should prolly be at least a little scared here but stella's chillin and i trust stella therefore i'm choosing to trust astrid. please do not let me down

shes fine

ok can we talk about this? because what the literal fuck is going on. we're in a burning wooden building and rayla's doing backflips to get to the coins which are just. hanging from a string????

ok i'm sorry this is absolutely hilarious. it's giving "viren's body slip sliding off of the raft" in the sense that it's violence that is just peak comedy to me and me only and for no reason.

oh brother THIS GUY STINKS

at least they made karim look goofy as shit

she sun on my seed til i

well this has been fun

[bi-bard]

Lovely Night - Walt Deville Imagine (The Invitation)

Title: Lovely Night

Pairing: Walt Deville X Reader

Word Count: 945 words

Warning(s): none

Summary: (Y/n) spends their first night in the manor. Much to Walt's delight and (Y/n)'s nervousness.

Author's Note: There! I did it! Maybe my TikTok fyp will let me have peace now.

Is Walt out of character in this? Probably, but I wanted to write this so fuck it. (still haven't seen the film, be nice to me.)

Oh, and Happy Halloween!

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The first thing being around Walt taught me was that when it came to fight-or-flight, my response was fight.

He had a tendency to walk silently. Unless there were other people reacting to seeing him, I would never know when he would just kind of pop up.

That's why when a pair of arms wrapped around me with no warning while I was looking out one of the windows in Walt's room, I flinched and tried to turn around immediately.

"Shh," I heard Walt chuckle in my ear. "It's just me."

I let out a sigh as I relaxed. I slapped his hand lightly, hearing him chuckle.

"You know that you can't just pop up around me," I muttered.

He chucked again, pressing a kiss to the skin behind my ear. He hummed against my skin. I closed my eyes a bit, trying to calm any remaining nerves.

"You're nervous," Walt noted.

"You just scared me."

"(Y/n)..."

I continued staring out the window. Of course, I was nervous. I hadn't stayed overnight in the manor before. It felt weird the more I thought about it, but it simply never felt necessary before he had offered.

I had been trying to maintain a calm, happy air throughout the whole night. Through dinner, I had done pretty well. But now... I wasn't sure if it was being in his room or the idea of lying next to him for the night that made me so anxious. Probably both.

I felt a kiss touch the curve of my jaw.

"What's going through your mind," he asked quietly.

"It's nothing," I reached one hand up and touched the hair on the back of his head. "It's silly."

"Silly or not, I don't like seeing you worried," he replied. "I just want to help."

"I... I'm just nervous about tonight," I confessed. "I know I have nothing to worry about. I trust you. But I cannot shake the feeling in my stomach."

There was a brief moment where my confession hung in the air. I couldn't tell if it weighed as heavily on him as it did on me. I was embarrassed.

Walt stepped back, his arms falling away from me. I turned around when he did.

I was about to ramble out some apology when he reached out to touch my side, pulling me closer to him. I almost stumbled into him.

"What are you doing, Walt," I asked, forcing a chuckle.

His other hand took mine. "Dancing."

"Right now... here?"

He nodded.

"Why?"

"Well, my love," he moved his hand from my side just long enough to guide my free hand to his shoulder, "you seem very relaxed when we've danced together. I'm hoping the same effect will apply here."

I smiled. "Thank you."

He grinned back to me. "Nothing to thank me for."

There was something funny about dancing around a room with no music. No beat to follow or anything to fill the silence. I found myself just laughing quietly as Walt guided us through the space in the middle of the room.

I felt like every moment with him, I fell for him a little more. I wondered if he experienced the same thing I was. If he was, he hid it well. Always so calm and relaxed. Meanwhile, I almost hyperventilated when he first kissed me.

And he accepted my nerves like they were no burden to him. What I did to deserve feeling like this, I would never know. I was just happy to feel this way.

Walt slowed our dance to a stop. He walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge and smiling at me. I smiled back, walking to join him.

I stopped in front of him, waiting for him to speak.

He didn't.

He reached out and carefully pulled me forward a few steps.

He brought my hand up to his lips, watching me as he kissed the palm to the tip of each finger to the back of my hand. I grinned, my free hand moving to run through his hair. He smiled before moving to kiss my wrist.

"Is there anything else I can do to help make you more comfortable, my love," he asked.

I couldn't form a response as he kissed my wrist again. He hummed to me, an almost cocky grin pulling at his lips.

"Lay with me," he said. Not a question. Just an instruction.

I nodded.

He stood up, suddenly chest to chest with me.

Walt always was this mix of strange and enchanting. I think he liked it that way. Always leave some form of curiosity. Something for outsiders to latch onto. To constantly need to figure out.

He led me around the side of the bed. He pulled the covers back for me, letting me move onto the mattress first. Once my head relaxed onto the pillow, he crawled into bed next to me.

His hand cupped my cheek, smile growing as he ran his thumb along my skin.

"How are you feeling, my love," he asked softly.

"Good," I replied quietly. "Tired, but good."

Walt leaned over and kissed me gently, moving over closer to me under the covers. I reached up to rest my hands over his. I smiled into the kiss. Completely comfortable, completely peaceful.

At the time, I didn't know all of Walt's secrets.

Looking back on it now, I don't think I would've cared. By that point, all I wanted was him, no matter the cost. It was all so simple in my mind. He was the center of my attention. He always had been.

And I think we both adored it that way.

-----------------------

Author's Note: Fun fact, there was a completely different plotline written, but I decided to scrap it because I was having trouble getting it to flow. I may write it if there's enough demand for it. It was a fun one, it was just taking a very long time.

Also, the spelling of this man's last name is gonna be the death of me.

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[tonberry-yoda]

Congrats on the 900!!! I would like to request okuyasu👀 from jjba. I don't have a prompt in mind but I love fluff and romance!

if you haven't already, I hope one day you play twisted wonderland, the fandom would totally thrive with you❤❤❤

Again, congrats!! 🥳🥳

Falling - Okuyasu

notes: AHH OMG THANK YOU!! You are so amazing and supportive and super talented thank you for being nothing but kind <333 I loved writing this and I really hope you enjoy it!! And I will totally look into playing twisted wonderland because ive seen a lot about it and all of the characters are chefs kiss, so you'll be the first to know if i play it <3

word count: 670

When you met Okuyasu, it was a funny moment. You were taking your dog on a walk and nearly dropped his leash when you saw an open garage. He was in a sweat covered tank top, doing bench-presses. The way his biceps would flex every time he pushed up the bar, you couldn't help but stare. He nearly dropped the weight on his chest when he saw you staring and you jumped.

"S-Sorry," you told him, starting off with your dog.

Okuyasu stopped you, jumping up. "No! It's fine. Uh..." He didn't know what to say now that the two of you were standing nearly feet away from each other.

"No," you finally spoke up, your face heating up. "I was staring, I'm really sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," Okuyasu rubbed the back of his neck, his voice soft. "I'm Okuyasu."

He stuck out his hand and you took a step forward, shaking it. "I'm y/n."

"Cool... y/n.... Uh... Are you usually walkin your dog around here?"

You nodded.

"Sick. Well, see you around!" Okuyasu waved at you and ran back into his garage.

You honestly thought that would be the end of the two of you interacting, but you always found yourself back at the garage whether just to visit Okuyasu or just walking by with your dog. You would never fail to stay for a drink at least.

Then meeting Okuyasu led to you meeting his friends too. You became very close to Josuke and Koichi. They were a funny crew.

But the more the three of you hung out the more you realized that you were actually developing feelings for Okuyasu. You wanted him to know, but at the same time, you didn't want to ruin anything if he didn't feel the same way. You were too scared to say the least.

But Josuke quickly caught on.

"Hey, y/n?" He finally was able to pull you aside while Koichi and Okuyasu were ordering some food for all of you.

"What's up?" You asked, your eyes never leaving Okuyasu.

"Are you gonna tell Oku?"

"Tell him what?!" Your eyes finally got off of Okuyasu and met Josuke's.

"That you like him?"

You froze. You knew it was obvious. "I can't." You sighed, putting your hands in your lap.

"Why not? He's totally into you!"

"What if he isn't?!"

Josuke gave you an unamused look. "Really, y/n? Oku talks about you ALL THE TIME!"

"But-"

"I'm not gonna rush you, but honestly, you look like you need to get it off your chest."

You thought about what Josuke said all day. He was probably right, even though you were terrified. The rest of the day went really well though. You all got food and hung out at an amusement park. It was really late when you all decided it was time to get heading home.

"I'll walk you," Okuyasu said as Josuke and Koichi went seperate ways. "It's on the way and pretty damn late."

He locked his arm with yours and you had fun giggling about the day and getting excited for whatever everyone would do together next.

"What about..." your heart was pounding and your cheeks were dusted pink. "What about next time we hang out, it's just the two of us. Without Koichi or Josuke."

"What do you mean?" Okuyasu tilted his head, his blue eyes locking onto yours.

"Like..." you were definitely shaking, but you pushed through. "A date... or something,"

"Me and you... a date?!" His eyes lit up.

"Yeah. We could uh... go bowling or something?"

"A date?!" He threw his arms around you in a big hug, your feet lifting up off the ground.

"Only if you want." You giggled as he put you down.

"Of course I want to go on a date with you!! You're like the prettiest and coolest person I know!!" He gave you a big kiss on the cheek.

The bright red face you got from the question was totally worth it.

~~~~~

jjba masterlist (2) | pinned post @tonberry-yoda