#i get that her dying mother for some reason put the responsibilities on her but it makes 0 sense | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tonixe · 5 months

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ਏਓ ` caged

``a/n: I'm back, guys I won't ever leave trust. But update I'm still obsessed with Coriolanus Snow, he is so hot, and sexy and I wanted him to degrade me. Tom Blyth is still my celebrity crush and I just wanted to write smut.

warning: p in the v, penetration, coquette style, lolita, objectification, exhibitionism, mirror sex, choking non-con to dub-con, and creampie. *** may be classified as dark content. (proofread??)

pairing: pervert!coriolanus x nymphet!reader

word counter: 3.1k

You were Sejanus's adoptive sister, you used to live in the district, specifically around District 6. His mother found you around the street, in an alleyway. You remembered cold, hungry, and almost dying from a cold you caught. You were unable to buy food or clothes with the low funds you had, resulting in stealing from people and food stalls.

Their family was your saving grace, being an orphan was hard being kicked out from an orphanage due to the high population rate there, no food, water, or clothes, no reason. Mostly Mr. Plinth who was a kind man indeed. He began to be your father, though he wasn't biological, he cared for you as your own, and you were happy for him to be your dad. From living on the streets to a place in the capitol. You would have never thought of ever seeing the clean capitol floors or walls, or even seeing the wonderful food on the table with the elegant style and decorum.

It took you some time for you get with and normalize yourself with the Plinth family. You couldn't use the word mom or dad, even father or mother because you didn't feel like you fit in always using Mr or Mrs with them.

You had to practice it yourself, hopefully make them your own traits of carrying yourself with elegance and suave. Mr Plinth hired a teacher to help you practice it, which you were grateful for. Even landing a spot in the capitol's academy, attending it with your older brother, Sejanus. Everything felt surreal to you, feeling yourself still in a dream looking in the mirror as you wore the blood-colored uniform, clipping a pink-colored butterfly hairpin in your hair to finish your pristine ponytail, fitting the appearance of a spotless uniform.

Though you were from the district, you managed to hide yourself from your origin, even with the relationship that people knew that you had with Sejanus. Everyone seemed to be more favorable towards you than him, flocking your desk before the professor came and class started. Talking to you, children from the rich, and the wealthy wanting to be your confidante. Your popularity rose from the ranks, and you were able to have a flourishing status in the academy. A person with good grades, elegance, and filled with poise.

The bell rang, and you took your books holding them close to your chest, walking out of the classroom. Hearing some footsteps coming closer to your walking form, your eyes flickering to Arachne. "So, are you excited for reaping day, it's in almost a month," She said, as you listened to her in response, nodding your head. Your heart starts beating faster as you hear of reaping day. Everything about reaping day triggered things in you, especially back living in the district. You heard of it, people going missing and plucked from their homes to be fighting in an arena for entertainment. You gulped, nodding to her words. "Yeah, it going to be a ball there, I wonder whats going what new things are going to happen, especially with Dr. Gaul" You replied, "Well, she knows how to entertain and put on a show," Aranche said, you guys simultaneously went into the dinning hall.

As you guys got some lunch being served, before you stopped in your steps, "What happened?" Arachne asked, as she stopped with you, "I'm going to sit with my brother" You stated, gesturing to him sitting alone, before she grabbed your biceps, "You're going to sit with him, Sejanus?" Arachne asked incredulously, "—Are you serious?" Aranche questioned, "Yes? Is there a problem?" You asked, cocking your eyebrows to the side, feeling Arachne's hands leaving your bicep before she walked away from you. As you walked to the table where Sejanus was sitting, another person was sitting next to him.

He was familiar to you, with curly blonde hair. He hung out with your brother often, his name was Coriolanus Snow—right? You continued to walk to the table, Sejanus's eyes flickered toward you, "Y/N, come join us!" He said that got the attention of the blonde man sitting next to him, you nodded, placed your tray on the table, and sat down on the chair that was across from Coriolanus.

"Oh, Y/N this is Coriolanus" Sejanus said, gesturing to Coriolanus, "Yes, how can I not, he's infamous at the academy" You smiled at the man who was staring at you, and he gave you a small smile before he went back to Sejanus, "So, is this your sister?" Coriolanus asked, "Yes, she little younger than us. I think a Junior, right Y/N?" Coriolanus just nodded at the statement.

Coriolanus was in awe of your appearance, he had known Sejanus for some time but never knew he had a sister as well. Your h/c and your eyes contrast with your smooth skin, enchanting your beauty, and your cute nose. He wonders what you would look like underneath the red uniforms, and how much your curves would show, trying to brush off the dirty, vulgar thoughts of his 'friend' little sister.

There were some talks about you especially among his male peers, mostly the vulgar gossip about how you would look bare, especially when your name was mentioned to Festus. He would always talk suggestively about you, though he didn't like Sejanus at all, he did like his sister. He was a hypocrite in his own words...he didn't like how men were looking at you and talking to you, suggestively, he actually hated it with a weird sense of rage every time your name was mentioned from someone's lips.

He attentively stared at you as you talked to Sejanus, your delicate fingers taking the ladle and dipping into the soup and putting it towards your dainty lips, drinking it. He watched as the soup went down your delicate throat, and gently put it back down. Everything you did was gentle and purified, you were an uncorrupted version of what came out of the capitol, that he wanted to protect.

"Coriolanus?" his eyes darted to voice, which was you, "is everything okay?" you questioned, cocking your head cutely. "Mhm," he nodded, the way you pronounced his name with every syllable with your dulcet tone, it felt like something inside him broke when you looked at him with your soft e/c eyes. "So—how long did you know my brother" you asked, "About a decade now" He answered truthfully, "Oh, that's nice" You gave him a little smile,

"Any hobbies, or such?" You asked, He found it cute that you asked him all the conversation starters in the book, it was adorable that you wanted to know more about him, and the hidden blush dusted on your cheeks. "Hunting" He answered, "I also enjoy hunting, what is your favorite season to hunt, I prefer spring to summer. You get to see all the flowers, fresh grass, and even baby animals" You exclaimed, ranting away as Coriolanus listened to your lovely voice.

He wondered how you would sound when your alone with him, but he couldn't stop his vulgar thoughts around you, it was always in his mind when he heard, saw, and listened to you. Made the blood rush all way to his dick. How embarrassing would it be to see his boner?

You and Coriolanus started hanging out more, spending more time together without Sejanus and you managed to form a relationship with him, becoming his friend but to his disdain he wanted more than a friendly relationship.

He would visit your home a few times but it was almost all for hanging out with Sejanus, but you didn't know that he only came to see you. You would greet him in one of your cute little pink lacy nightgowns, he found you precious at the informal act. The nightgown did hug your curves, it was something. that very something that got a rise out of him. Those rises that made him jerk off to you at night, the single thought of you with him alone and him stuffing you full with your pink lacy nightgown flipped over covering your face. Your soft-sounding, sweet mewls in his ears as he sinks himself into you, but it was only a fantasy as he spills himself on his hand, the thought of you taking all of his cum made him get aroused even more.

But this time Coriolanus had come back to your utter surprise, but what surprised you more was he wasn't with Sejanus at all, opening the doors to him, and nobody was home but you knew Sejanus was coming back in a few minutes or perhaps hours. "Oh, Coriolanus..Sejanus isn't here at the moment but you are welcome to come in—I think he'll be back in a few minutes" You said, opening the door to him as he walked in. You were still in one of your pink lacy nightgowns, and pink stockings, and your hair were in pigtails with pink bows on both of the sides.

You led him to the parlor room, "Would you like anything to drink? You asked, cocking your head to the side. "No, I'm alright." He answered, "You sure?' You questioned, he wondered if you act the same way if he were to marry you would you be a dutiful wife to him, making sure he's always taken care of—"Yes, I'm sure Y/N" he repeated, you nodded at him. "So, why are you here Coriolanus," you asked, "If you don't mind me asking, of course," you said, "To talk with Sejanus," he said, "Ohh". Coriolanus studies your appearance, the new jewelry that he noticed on your wrist, it wasn't something you would see in a jewelry store. It had a bunch of plastic rainbow loom-type beads on it. "What's that" Coriolanus gestures to your wrist.

You held the bracelet with your other free hand, "Oh, I made it myself" feeling your cheeks getting flushed, "Do you like it?" you asked, your eyes gleaming up to his. "It's...nice" He looked at your wrist, "Do you want me to make you one" you exclaimed clasping your hands with his, your eyes sparkling. He felt his face getting hot, his pale face being stained with a pinkish undertone, "Sure" He answered you, your hands wrapping with his as you grabbed him out of the sofa and led him into your bedroom.

He guessed rightfully on what your bedroom would like, it was all pink, and in different shades of pink to pastels to dark vibrant tints. There was a canopy bed with white sheets and pink lacey curtains, a vanity, and your room had pink cherry blossom wallpaper with pink roses, orchids, and carnations. It had a Victorian style to it, with windows that had lacey curtains with pink bows. His eyes darted to you as you were looking through your vanity trying to find the bracelet set. "You were actually the first person who complimented my bracelets before" you smiled to yourself, glancing back at him. "Well, I'm glad I was your first," He said, putting his hands into his pockets. You took out the bracelets from the chest you brought out. The golden, and pink box opens up with your delicate hands, taking out the charms in the compartment, sitting on your bed. "Sit" you patted right of you, as he sat down looking at the box on your lap.

He was wondering why you would bring a man into your bedroom, not even knowing his intentions at all. Your naive personality was worrying, but also adorable as you made a little bracelet for him, putting charms into the golden metal twine. A few minutes passed between you and Coriolanus, "I'm done" you smiled towards him, taking his wrist and putting the bracelet around it, Coriolanus looked at the bracelet with glee that it was made by you. He felt his heart pumping against his chest.

"It's cute," He said, the cool metal touching his arm before he turned his attention to you. "I'm glad" you smiled, your soft lips parting apart. Coriolanus felt something inside of him twinging, blood rushing down to his lower core. You felt his hands on your thigh, rising making you tense up, "Coriolanus what are you doing?" Your eyes darted onto his hands crawling dangerously up to your cunt. "Y/N" he called your name, as you got up quickly from him, "I think you should leave, Coriolanus" You held your hands backing up from him, and he got up too.

Walking towards you as you tense up, feeling your flight and fight senses kicking in. "You should leave...now" You flickered your eyes away from him, and every time he stepped closer you stepped back, the process continued still you hit your dresser. A set of panic coming in you, feeling his hand on your face. His body pressed into yours, "Your really beautiful when you're scared" he whispered, as he caressed your face.

"—You don't even know how long I waited for this" he finished, his arms trailing down from your face to your chest, as he fondled your chest, "Why do you wear these skimpy nightgowns when a boy comes around, like a common whore" he rolled the buds on your chest, as they hardened at his touch through your flimsy garment. You turned your head away, "Stop" you mewl out, feeling your legs getting heavy, his hand taking down the top of the nightgown revealing your breast on display for him. His hands were cold, groping your breast, feeling your cunt pulsing through your cotton panties.

"We should stop now– please" You choked out, putting your hands on his shoulders, you felt a weird sensation through your body. "Why, feels like you're enjoying it" he whispered, "Haah~" you whined, closing your eyes shut. His hands flipping up your nightgown, your hands darted to his, "We should stop, please, it's wrong" you plead, your doe eyes looking at his cold irises.

This look made him feel even more aroused, he ripped off your nightgown making you squeal so cutely, displaying your cute flimsy pink panties before he flipped you against your dresser. He took off your pink panties looking at the wet patch on them, as your ass made contact with his crotch. "Fuck" your eyes making contact with your mirror at the assault happening on the backside of you. He unbuckled his belt, the jingling sounds making you nervous, your eyes glancing back to him at the sound. Your eyes widened at the size of his cock, feeling yourself tremble at the size, "Corio...that's not going to fit" your lip quivered, "Please—don't put that in" Your eyes getting watery, "It's going to be okay" you felt his hand rubbing on your curves, as he lines up against your slit. He rubbed against it feeling your slick against his cock.

Your breath trembled, as he slowly entered into you, and the pain simmered into you as tears pricked on your waterline, "Shh, it's almost all in" he caressed your waist, his finger trailing to your clit, rubbing the nub. His pelvis bottoming inside you, you gasped, putting your hands on your dresser and trying to steady yourself.

"Don't move..please" your chest heaved, your lips already looking bitten up and your cheek looking wet. But you knew he wasn't going to stop, he moved his hips, plunging himself into you, groaning into your ear. You looked at the mirror, watching his hips fucking into you, his pelvis colliding with you.

"Fuck.. you're tight" he growled into your ears, he slipped into your pussy, and the sloppy sounds of the thrusts sounded erotic, it was dirty. You felt his hands on your pigtails pulling you up, the pain on your scalp hurting, your back curved as he thrust into you. Your tongue lolling out, eyes rolling up, as Coriolanus looked into the mirror at your fucked out face, it was erotic and dirty. The painful sensation turns into a pleasurable feeling.

You felt something bubbling in your core, and thrust into you, feeling a wave of pleasure coming through you, liquid dripping down from your cunt. The sloshing of your cunt and his cock connecting you together. Your tits bouncing at the sudden thrust of him, you gripping the porcelain dresser. His mouth connects to yours into a sloppy kiss, while he enters into you.

Everything that was running through your body felt good, making you drool but you knew it was wrong in your pretty little head. It was wrong to be doing this with your brother's friend, sleeping with him. You felt dirty, but you craved his touch further.

Feeling yourself getting closer to your climax another rush of pleasure passes through your body making you tremble very so slight. His hands on your hips, as he rams into you with an animalistic pace. "It's too much" you whined, "You're doing so well, dear" he teasingly rubbed your clit, making you shudder.

"Corio" you mewl under your breath, as he abuses your clit further getting a rise out of you, he bends you over the dresser, the delicate silver handles digging into your stomach, his hips driving into you. Pulling on your cute pigtails, "Look into the mirror darling" Coriolanus growls into your ear, making you feel wet and aroused, you were embarrassed. "Look" he demanded thrusting into you harder, you obey. Your face flushed and your puffy cheeks stained with wet tears. Your tongue lolling out your mouth, panting like an animal.

"I'm close" he groaned, as he caressed your stomach, feeling his cock bulging in your stomach. "Not inside—please" you whined, feeling his teeth on your neck, leaving little bites blooming on your neck, his hands gripping your breast.

"How can I not, you look so adorable when you look at that" He pulled your face in, your face was messy, tears, snot dripping out of your nose, and drool coming out of your cute little mouth. He plunges into you, "Fuck—" he groaned, before feeling hot loads inside of you, making you tremble from the sudden warmth. "Haah~" you huffed before he released you from your pigtails, falling onto your dresser, panting.

Feeling the sudden warmth coming out from you, as he pulls out from you. Hot cum leaked out from you to the wooden floors, your eyes darting to the mirror looking at Coriolanus's tired form, listening to his footsteps as he came to you, rubbing your stomach gently. Your eyes hesitantly peek at him through the mirror,

"You did so' well" He whispers in your ear, combing your hair, with his fingers, being careful not to hurt you in the process as he plants a kiss on your collarbone to your neck. You should have known better than to trust people, some can be sick perverts because thank god Coriolanus was here to protect you. <3

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zialltops · 2 months

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honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

masterlist | ao3 | spotify playlist

“In just—“ His eyes slip closed when his mouth connect with the inside of your wrist. His lips are warm and so tender you fight down a soft whimper at the intoxicating sensation. When they open again, dangerous amber irises peer back at you like you’re their salvation. “-my cowboy hat.”

Oh—fuck.

a/n: this chapter was so fun to write, I accidentally made it 9.5k words lol, but it was such a relief (ish) to write. Some new warning apply to this chapter, so please be advised of those. We get to see a whole new side to Joel this chapter and we’ll get to see some “in the making of” this chapter in the following one. A little bit of context on why Joel changes so abruptly and the reasoning behind his decisions. I hope you all know how much i love love love you guys for being here for me while i struggle to find time to write. I’m working on getting back on my feet every day and this is the one safe place I have to escape and indulge in my favorite coping mechanism. Much love, H 🤍

Chapter 7–You Don’t Want That Smoke

Your birthday falls on Friday this year, (lucky you) but it also means the First Friday dance falls on your birthday this year as well. It’s the first community event after the cold winter months and by that time, most people are itching to get out of their snow-buried homes. The town usually puts on the event to celebrate the coming spring, hosting venders of all sorts and games for the families. Growing up, your parents would take you to the petting zoo and let you ride the ponies, like you didn’t have a horse at home, like there wasn’t a whole ranch to attend to, animals to raise up and sell, like you could just for a moment, be a normal little girl from a quiet street who’d never sat in a saddle in her life.

If only that had been the case, ever. If only you’d had parents who pursued safe, reliable careers, where they had pensions and retirement, insurance and benefits, instead of breaking their backs for a ranch that had been dying long before it was left to your mother by her parents. Was it obligation that kept them here, or was it something else? Was it the same thing that got you through years of college, all in an attempt to keep your parents' dream alive for a little while longer?

It’s Wednesday, which means you have two more days before your birthday and Melly’s plane lands in a few hours from Colorado, but so far your morning has taken you five rounds in the octagon and is currently coming back for more.

“—No! The statements I just got in the mail yesterday said we have ninety days to come up with three months worth of the mortgage before the property faces foreclosure.”

The woman on the other end of the phone sighs at you and you can hear the way her hands hit her keyboard. “I know that, ma’am, but that was a month and a half ago and we still have not received any payments. The bank sent another letter, requesting that the entire six month worth of back payments be received by the end of the ninety days or the property will be foreclosed on.”

The routinely scripted response feels like an open handed slap to the face, white hot pain snapping through your veins like lightning on the Wyoming plains. You sink down into the dining room chair and let it soak in all the way.

“How many days do we have left?” You hear yourself whisper into the phone but it’s not you speaking, not really—its a absent reflex like blinking or breathing.

“That's…51 days, ma’am. We’ll contact you again in thirty days if we have not received the entire amount by that time.”

Your eyes burn and blur, tears for the years of your life wasted on a useless education, until they surge past the dam and plummet to the paper below. When you look down at the document, your tears are stained red by the ink on the foreclosure notice. “How much will it be, again?” Defeated, Inadequate and Doomed.

“Fourteen thousand, three hundred and forty dollars, for six months worth of the Mortgage and late fees accumulated.” She sounds annoyed when she reads off the obscene number, like she isn’t sealing the fate of your family home, the dream your parents have worked their whole lives for to pass down to you—all wasted on a backed mortgage that your parents took out on the farm when you were born.

The full circle indicates that losing your family’s livelihood was your fault, from start to finish. You didn’t make it in time. All your hard work, and you’re still going to lose it.

“Is that everything, ma’am?”

Click

You drop the phone and sob into your arms, your whole body shaking and heaving with every sharp inhale. In your best attempt to keep quiet, you attract the attention of the one person you long to keep this from, your sweet, well meaning mom.

She’s soft spoken when she soothes you, rubs your back while you dry up your tears against her chest and she doesn’t ask why, just kisses your forehead and smiles one of those sweet sweet smiles at you and says, “We’ll get through this, Honey, don’t you worry about that. We’ll figure this out together.”

And you believe her, enough to reel in your hiccups, enough to ease your searing tears. “Why don’t you take a break from work, Melly gets here soon, yeah? You got everything you girls need?”

You smile at her, thankful for her ability to distract you from the things that keep you up at night. She knows you better than anyone, she’s your best friend. “Maybe we can stop at the store after we get her, but we gotta leave soon—“ you check the time, one hour until her plane touches down in Jackson and it takes forty five minutes to get there alone.

“Actually Honey, about that…I can't go with you. I’m not feeling up to it and I thought I would whip up dinner for you girls. But I got someone to go with you,”

You stand up from the chair and put the papers back into the envelope. “Mom, I really can go alone, I drove all the way here—“ she stops you with a quiet scuff. “You got stuck in the snow and Joel had to pull you out.” Joel, that son of a bitch…that big, sexy cowboy son of a bitch who left you in the snow. Who huffs and puffs and walks around like the sweatiest, filthiest, most delicious version of every nasty fantasy you’ve ever had. Of course she would drag him into this, maybe she’s the one who’s after the help.

“Speak of the devil,” she has this knowing look when her gaze travels past you to the doorway of the dining room. You glance over your shoulder to find yourself smack dab in the middle of one of those filthy dreams, dressed in green plaid and his brown Carhartt jacket, his black cowboy hat resting atop his head with curls peeking out of the sides, kissing the tips of his ears. His beard has grown out a tad too, making him look soft all over, scruffy and curly with a dimpled smile. The sight of him comes with a sudden rush of soothing comfort, warm eyes that make you feel safe, hidden in the shadows of his hat.

“Heard I was takin’ you somewhere?” He’s broad and sturdy, with a slight sheen of sweat on the peaks of his collarbones under his shirt. Under his beard, his neck is taught and his muscles are strained, his pulse visible beneath his skin despite his cool composure. If you know Joel, he did a days worth of work this morning to clear his schedule for the rest of the afternoon. He probably smells like sweat and dirt, like horses and leather under all that damn southern charm he possesses.

Actually, you can take me anywhere. On the couch, in my room, hell—in the glow of a fridge light.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to bite off your involuntary groan, shooting your mom a sharp look. She may play coy, might act like she's this innocent and sweet, cookie baking, laundry folding, house making mom who knows no better, but you see what she’s really up to. How she hides behind her little false oblivion, a facade she usually only uses for good. This doesn’t feel like it was for the greater good.

“You—“ you sneer at her quietly and she smiles with a “Not sure what you mean dear, but you better get a move on. I have to get dinner in the oven!” She scurries out of the room and into the next, letting the door swing closed behind her. Joel remains in the same spot, one shoulder pressed against the white wood frame of the old door, his muddy boots on the dark hardwood floors. Your eyes drag up the rest of him, his pants are tight in the middle, hugging his hips and probably just barely restraining what lays below the dark blue denim. There's a soft curve to his belly, made apparent when his arms cross over his chest and pull his shirt tight against his front.

His belly looks so damn soft. So fucking round and bite-able. A few more clicks up, his chest nearly bulging out of the buttons of the flannel. The buttons hang on for dear life, but you’re afraid if he flexes, they will scatter to the floor with your resolve.

He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes. “Doin’ alright there, darlin’?” If his presence wasn’t enough, the bourbony southern drawl and the way he cocks his hip makes your thighs squeeze together involuntarily. “Yeah—Yep, just need to get dressed and I’ll be ready.” You’re still in a big sleep shirt, have been all morning because work for you doesn’t require pants half of the time. When you start to breeze past, his eyes drop to the exposed skin of your thighs.

“Been wonderin’…” he stops you with a big hand, pressed against your sternum when you try to pass by his solid form. He’s still faced the opposite direction than your body, only his head turns to look down at you, gone still beneath his stern fingertips. “If you always walk around naked under these shirts, or if you’re wearin’ somethin’ under there when mom and dad are ‘round?”

His eyes flick back to the door leading into the kitchen, where your mother is currently hiding from your scowl, then back down to the hem of your oversized shirt. The hand on your ribs shifts when you haul in a deep, stuttering breath. It slips a few inches lower, the tips of his thick fingers dipping into the flesh of your stomach, just below your belly button. He’s so close and so fucking firm where he holds you in place.

“Why don’t you have a look for yourself, Cowboy?”

You challenge him back and you swear he stops breathing beside you. He meets your dare with a low growl, reverberating inside his rib cage like a shout in a vast canyon. What the hell is happening right now, did he hit his head or something? Is he finally getting the fucking hint? How desperately you want him to have his way with you? Then again, the last time he saw you dressed like this, you were bent over, knowingly showing off everything you had to offer, the place you wanted him most, while you listened to the guttural sounds leaving the unsuspecting man behind you. You aren’t going to complain about the sudden shift in his attention, hell no—you’ll soak in what you can get from the leery cowboy.

You hardly register the way he moves until he leans forward and warm fingertips graze the skin just under your ass. He’s looking when he lifts the shirt all the way up to your tailbone slowly, covered by smooth black satin, a thong that hugs your hips but leaves your cheeks exposed to his greedy sight. His eyes are everywhere, your thighs and the curve of your bare behind. His fingers dip just under the black satin band on your hip, his expression is just shy of a devoted man as he drinks in the contrasting sensation of your smooth skin and the silky material.

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, letting his hand slip from your panties to travel back down, unsure fingers tracing along the crease of your ass, curling under your cheek when he gets to the bottom. It’s the softest touch you’ve ever felt, full of admiration and barely restrained desire. It sets your skin on fire, radiating behind your eyelids. “Those are…damn pretty, sugar…but you better go get yourself ready, before you’re late.” His hands slip away from you completely and he turns in the direction of the door, already on his way out before you even fully process what just happened. What flipped inside of Joel on a random Wednesday afternoon in late February?

He leaves with a satisfied smirk with intentions of starting the truck while you stammer against the doorway and remind yourself to breathe. When the front door closes behind him, you lean against the wood he was just propped against, hoping his heat will still linger there. He instigated something, a secret whisper of want, the thought makes a grin break out from one side of your face to the other, pulling your cheeks tight. He wants you.

You get dressed with that same stupid grin plastered on your face. You shift through your closet a few times, but you keep falling back on the same outfit. A pair of flared jeans, light in color with stitch work on the sides. With a pair of boots, they make your ass look like a dream—just what you are going for, just so you can rile Joel further. You find a tight top and a thick wool flannel to throw over it, before tracking back down the stairs to the front door.

It’s the rush of adrenaline that shocks the agony from your brain, but the moment you bound down the front steps to his waiting truck, the door already propped open, you pause.

You stop at the foot of the stairs and turn, looking up the steps you’ve known your entire life, the screen door you’ve spent numerous summers swinging in and out of. The porch you’ve watched storms roll in from, the porch swing where you had your first kiss. All this and…your heart sinks. When you turn back towards the running chevy, Joel is staring back at you, his once knowing smirk traded in for a furrow of concern on his handsome features.

You climb into the passenger seat and fasten your seatbelt while Joel puts the truck in gear and pulls away from the house.

There’s a long stretch of road that passes in near silence, before it’s you who just can’t take it anymore. Joel, sweet fucking Joel sat beside you, respecting your emotions and your boundaries once again. “Ranch is ‘bout to be foreclosed.” You tell him. Once it’s spoken aloud, you realize just how imminent your family’s demise really is. How quickly you are going to lose everything, watch your parents walk away with no retirement and nothing to show for themselves, for generations of hard work.

You expect something, questions about how you know, how long you have, if there's anything he can do to help you, but the questions never come. Instead, Joel reaches over and presses his fingers into the latch on your buckle, pulling it off of you with one click.

“C’mere, sweet girl.” His tone is low, soft enough to not interrupt your thoughts, but enough to have you drawing across the bench seat and slipping under his sturdy arm while he drives. He keeps you tucked in close beside him, his hand trailing up and down your arm to ease out the pain residing in your veins. He takes one glance down at you and leans forward, his lips connecting with the crown of your head. “We’ll get through it. We ain’t goin’ down without a hell of a fight.”

Because after the years you’ve spent away from this place, Joel has come to think of the Rising Sun ranch as his home just as much as it is yours. He’d raised every one of the cattle on that ranch, he’s worked day and night to ensure its survival, he’s lost sleep and nearly limbs fighting to keep them afloat while you were gone. This is his home, his fight right alongside yours. Finally, the weight seems to ease up, shouldered by Joel's sense of responsibility for your family’s livelihood.

Beside you, he’s solid and warm, he’s alive and overflowing with strength, enough to spare, for something to cling to. You turn your head and bury your face in his shoulder, covering yourself in the shield of protection he has to offer, sturdy, devoted support that makes you feel lightheaded with security. He doesn’t push you further, doesn’t prod you for details. He just hangs on, keeps your body tucked in close to his while he drives into town. At some point, the rattling of the old truck along patchy highway roads lulls you into sleep with your head against his shoulder and one leg across his lap.

Joel, with all the strength he can muster—holds on tight.

“Hey,” your senses come rushing back when the truck comes to a stop and your warm pillow jostles under your head. You lift up off his weight a little and glance at him through a sleepy gaze, a soft smile present on his lips. “As much as I like you droolin’ all over me…” he gestures to wet stain on his flannel. “Think your friends plane lands soon, don’t want you to miss it.”

You get yourself together enough to look out the window. Joel parked right outside of baggage claim at Jacksons little airport and his arm still sits tightly around your shoulders. A deep sigh sets in to your bones and you lean against him for just a moment longer to soak in the warmth. “Hey, look at me, darlin’,” his hand wraps around your chin gently, coaxing your eyes up to his. “Don’t think about the ranch, at least till the week is over. Ain’t nothin’ you can do right now, so don’t let it ruin your birthday. Everythin’s gonna be alright.” His words trail off when a broad thumb swipes across the underside of your bottom lip, his gaze caught in yours so tightly you’re half sure the jaws of life couldn’t draw you apart. He breaks out into a grin and heaves a shallow laugh. “Had a little drool there.”

The little laugh that bubbles up in you breaks the eye contact and Joel shuts off the truck, untucking you from his arm. You check the time for safe measures, there's still a few more minutes before the plane lands and she still has to make it out the gates.

“Joel?” He’s fiddling with his key chain, adjusting a few backwards keys. “Hmm?” He barely makes eye contact—is he embarrassed? From holding you while you slept? “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me—for my family while I’ve been gone. I can't think of a way to…repay you for everything.”

Joel glances over at you and something flashes in his brown eyes, something that looks like discomfort and shame. He takes a sharp breath in and squeezes his knuckles around the keys. “I didn’t do it all selflessly…please don’t take this wrong. I haven’t felt a sense of belonging in years. Me and Tommy have been drifting since I was twenty eight, working on one ranch after another. We’d stick around a town for six months and he’d get antsy, stir up trouble and we’d have to hit the road again.”

He brings his hand up to his mouth and chews on the corner of his thumb. He’s anxious, you can tell by the way his eyes flitter to you then away quickly. “I’ve covered his ass more times than I can count because I don’t know if I’ll be the same if I have to leave here. It feels fuckin—selfish, like I’m usin’ your folks. M’gettin’ old, my bones are tired and all I want is to…stop. Slow down for once in my life. I’ve never been more at peace than I am here, with your parents and the ranch. I was doin’ so good, gettin’ my mind right, hatin’ myself a little less and then—“ he trails off with a distant look in his eyes.

And then…what? What’s caused Joel to lose that sense of peace and stability? “What happened?” You sink back in the bench seat, run your fingers along the stitched pattern of color adorning the warn padding. “S’big snow storm came in…I was comin’ back from town because I took Tommy to pick up flowers. He’d been a real asshole to a sweet lady who didn’t deserve it. Was pissed off he was smokin’ in the truck, pissed he was jeopardizin’ our home again, when we see this little car stuck in the embankment, met this—real pretty girl, and she…” he sneaks a glance over at you, but he’s doing his best to find anywhere, anything else to look at. Cars passing by, the sun reflecting off the bright white paint on the cross walk. The older woman in-front of you, helping what looks like her daughter, load her luggage into the trunk.

“She got under my skin and I was flustered for the first time in a really long time. Kinda freaked me out—and then I left here there—‘cuz I was scared shitless and nothin’s ever been the same since. Sorta think she hates my guts half the time for it.”

There's this unsettling silence in the cab, Joel's nerves and his admission hanging in the air between you. He’s never ever been this vulnerable and honest with you before. You’ve talked to him more times than you can count now, a meaningless little conversation where you found everything you needed to change your mind about him. But he’s never opened himself up like he was right now, in the damn pick up line of the Jackson airport.

“Joel I…I already forgave you for that.” You forgave him for that when he gave you your necklace for Christmas. You forgave him when he carried a newborn calf half a mile through a snowstorm for you. You forgave him when you came down the stairs to him in that damn cowboy hat.

You forgave him when he came back for you and looked at you with those pretty brown eyes.

“What?” He looks over at you and you hold onto the eye contact for as long as you possibly can. “I don’t hate you. Furthest thing from it actually—I do hate how much you avoid me. Like I’m going to bite your head off any second—“ he snorts, cracks a white smile at you and his eyes crinkle at the sides, making your stomach flutter, little blue butterflies soaring through your abdomen. “You do bite my head off—often.”

Okay—maybe he’s a little right, maybe you let it get too far a few times, spent too many afternoons angry at his distaste for you, when all you wanted was a taste of him. “Well, I’m sorry…for all the things I’ve said to you, the things I’ve called you. But I’m not upset about that anymore. I forgave you for that a long time ago. You’ve already made up for it a million times, Joel.”

He’s grinning at you like you just told him he won the fucking lottery, his nervous hands drumming a absent tune against the steering wheel. He’s looking at you like it’s the first time you’ve ever met him, his eyes shining with mirth and admiration. “Think…you could give this ol’ cowboy another shot?” That nervous little shake of his jaw, the tick in his voice and the hopefulness in his eyes is enough to break anyone, but you? You’re so lost on him you never want to find your way back. Throw away the maps, toss the keys somewhere you’ll never find them again—you never want to go anywhere else in the world. Another shot? You’d give him all of them.

“Pretend you’ve never met me before.”

He blinks, cocks an eyebrow and makes a face of confusion at you. “I’ve never met you?” You nod, turn your whole body to face him on the bench seat of his old beat up chevy. “Like it’s the first time we’ve met. I’m Hank's daughter and you’re picking me up from the airport to take me home for the first time in years. We’ve never met. Try again, shoot your shot, cowboy.”

You’d like to imagine that's how it went—your mom and dad were too busy to come get you and you decided to fly because you knew your little car wouldn’t make it. They send Joel, because he’s trustworthy and punctual. They know he’ll treat their daughter with respect, they trust that he’ll use his better judgment, because they know he’s a good man. You know that under that rough, hard exterior is an anxious man searching for belonging, a good man.

Joel takes a deep breath, lets his mind drift out the window before he turns it back to you with a charming smile, one you’ve never been on the receiving end of. It’s smoldering, flirtatious—everything you imagined Joel to be after all those years of pinning after a man you’ve never laid eyes on. A Joel you’ve never met and desperately need to get to know better. “Prodigy daughter finally returns,” his drawl is thick and his eyes rake over you once, twice, before settling on your own. “I’m Joel.”

You giggle—rightfully so, because this Joel? This Joel is all quick wit and chivalry. You fake introduce yourself back, your grin mirroring his own. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Joel.”

“Pleasure is…all mine, darlin’.”

You could stare at him forever with that damn goofy smile on his face. “Anyone ever tell you—you look good in this?” You tell him, reaching up to flick the brim of his hat, but it stays firmly in place despite your efforts. He snorts and snaps up to catch your wrist, holding onto it tightly in his big hand. “S’funny, I was just thinkin’ about how good you’d look in my hat.” His thumb circles the inside of your wrist slowly,’ pushing down the fabric of your sleeve with the effort. Slowly, he draws your appendage closer, till his mouth hovers just above your skin. His eyes are like witnessing something tragic, so devastating you can't bring yourself to look away.

“In just—“ His eyes slip closed when his lips connect with the inside of your wrist. His lips are warm and so tender you fight down a soft whimper at the intoxicating sensation. When they open again, dangerous amber irises peer back at you like you’re their salvation. “-my cowboy hat.”

Oh—fuck. There’s an image you’ll never get out of your mind—your hands on his sweaty chest, the brim of his hat falling in front of your eyes while you try to keep it in place, despite the way you ride him—

“Joel—Jesus, you can’t just—“

He breaks out into a chest filled laugh, his eyes slip close and his head falls back. His whole body responds to the way he laughs, his legs kick up, his chest heaves and his belly bounces. He’s a menace, a damn trouble starter—he makes you see hearts around his head and a sparkle in his eyes you’re sure you’re imagining. He calms his laugh down with a few deep breaths, a grin still plastered on his handsome face. “What can I say? I’m really bad at first impressions.”

He is, but it doesn’t bother you like it used to. Joel isn’t and never will be the perfect man you’d envisioned. He’ll never be the Joel you’d made up in your head for so long, because that Joel was made solely for you, from your interpretation of a man who’s perfect for you in every way. But that Joel and the one in front of you are two vastly different people—this Joel is gruff at times, opinionated and flawed. He wasn’t made perfect for you, but you find that the things that make him the least like the Joel in your mind—are the things that you like most about him. He’s gruff, but he’s punctual and takes no shit. He’s opinionated, but he’s wise about life, he’s earned the right to voice his beliefs. He’s flawed—he has crows feet by his kind eyes, graying curls and weathered hands—but it’s his flaws that entice you to learn more about him. They make him real in front of you instead of a made up, faceless man in your dreams.

Your phone chimes in your pocket and it sucks you from the void in the cab of this old truck, away from Joel's charming smile and his burning hand on your wrist. He pulls away and the moment dissipates into dust on the dashboard.

Melly: I just got my bag, headed out now!

“Be right back,” you slip out the door with a firm shut and try your hardest not to glance back at the man in the cab of that blue and white truck.

Finding Melly is easy, she sticks out like a sore thumb with her blonde hair and too-blessed chest. What did she do in a past life for tits like that, anyways?

She comes out the double doors and jogs to you with a grin your wearing on your own face. “Oh my gosh!” She squeals, finally getting close enough to throw your arms around each other. It’s been months since you’ve seen each other after spending everyday together for the last two years. You tumble around together in your hug for a few minutes before she pulls back to look you over, in a pair of flared jeans and boots. “Oh man, the country got you.” She jokes, faking a deflated sigh. “Would you fuck off?” She laughs menacingly, slinging her bag over her shoulder for more security. “Let me guess, you’re still trying to drive that cowboy crazy, right?”

With a deep eye roll, you finally look back at the truck. He’s looking right back at you, an easy smile on his lips when your eyes connect. You look back to your best friend and make a face. “He uhm…he actually drove me…to come get you. He’s in the truck, please be nice to him, okay?” She sneers and you know she means trouble when you help her with her things on her way to the truck.

“Please don’t fucking embarrass me, I swear dude—“ Mel gives you a little shove and huffs a laugh when you put her suitcase in the bed of the pickup. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ruin your shot with the old dude.” She looks around you, eyeing him from outside of the truck without his knowledge. “Holy shit, dude he’s hot. He’s like, stupid hot.”

You look over at him too and like he can feel your eyes on him, he looks over his shoulder, smiles warmly and you know it—

Know you’re fucked.

“Not a word.” Mel throws her hands up innocently and follows your lead when you open the door of the truck and climb in the middle, sliding in right beside Joel, reclaiming the space you’d taken up on your way here.

The whole drive back to the ranch, your body is on fire along the parts that connect to Joel, pressed so close you’re afraid you might melt into him.

Two days pass in a blur.

You spend a lot of time with Mel, catching up on how she's been doing since graduating, how she likes work—she’s a wildlife biologist in Colorado, who’s still learning the ropes of the job but she’s never been more excited to be a part of something. You don’t tell her about the ranch for a good reason, but she still asks and doesn’t say anything if she notices the look on your face when you lie to her.

We’ll get through it

You love spending time with her, but you don’t see a lot of Joel besides meals. He’s pleasant and soft, smiling at you like he’s never worn a frown on that handsome face. He sits too close at dinner, draws your gaze in far too many times for it to be an accident. It’s not anymore but it’s still so damn hard to make yourself believe that this isn’t just a fleeting moment—temptation breathing life into you for the first time in years, teasing you with possibilities.

He makes you burn but he doesn’t push further, doesn’t chase that desire down its narrowing path. It’s so close—you’re so close to finally making him yours.

When your birthday rolls around, he’s nowhere to be seen at breakfast. When you head out to the stables, the horses have already been fed and there's no trace of the man who plagues your every waking moment. The truck is gone and the tire-tracks in the driveway look old, like he’s been gone for hours. It’s not that he’s required to see you on your birthday, but you thought things were going to change. You thought that re-meeting him in the truck at the airport would restart everything, he’d realize you want him around more than the ranch hand who got under your skin and made you desperate for his attention. It feels naive, to watch out the window for his truck for most of the morning, pining after that faded powder blue and rust.

“This is depressing to watch from the outside, you know that right?” Comes Mel’s voice from the other side of your room when you check the window for the first time in the last half hour. She's painting her nails on the chair in your room while you peer through the blinds like he might appear out of thin air without you hearing the rumble of his old chevy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You do your best to defend yourself, stepping away and crossing your arms as you trudge to your bed.

“Don’t play dumb with me, I know you. You’re pacing your room wondering when you’ll see him. You know everyone can see the way you guys look at each other right? When are you guys going to like…kick it up a notch, get in his pants?”

You toss yourself on the fluffy sheets and close your eyes tight, letting your mind wander for a moment. “I don’t know…” what are you going to do, if you cant even see him long enough to get him alone? Tonight is the dance and you were hoping he’d be there, maybe he’d ask you for a dance. You’ve never told a boy in your hometown yes to a dance at this thing, but you’d change that for Joel. If he asked, you’d let him spin you around all night long.

Only problem is, he can’t do that if he’s still avoiding you like you're an illness he can’t afford to catch. “He’s so confusing. One second he acts like…he wants me, the next he’s hiding from me, probably—ugh, I just wish I could get him out of my head if he wants nothing to do with me!”

The room is silent, still for all of five glorious seconds before Mel breaks it. “Does he still run away to jerk off?” You snap your eyes over to her with a sharp glare. “Yes! And he drives me up the fucking wall, dude! All I want is to get my hands on that delicious man and he runs away every time. How am I ever supposed to accomplish anything if I can't even get him alone for five minutes. And every time I do, something happens and ruins it all.”

You can't seem to get a second with him no matter how hard you try. The last two days, he hasn’t been around aside from his work in the morning, a few meals he makes it to in between. If you’re being honest, it's painful to think about the way he’d smiled at you a few days ago and the way he doesn’t have the time of day now.

“If he shows up at that dance tonight, I’m making sure you get your second alone. Now come on, let me help you pick out your dress. He won't know what he’s missing out on.”

By the time you’re headed out the door for town, Joel is still nowhere in sight. You thought you’d heard his truck for a moment earlier, but when you’d peered out the window a few minutes later, there was no blue chevy in the driveway. No cowboy waiting out front for you.

You trudged to the car in your black dress, two slits up the sides where your thighs peak out and a back so low your half afraid your ass is going to fall out of the damn thing. You do your best to hold it up when you walk through the dirt, a pair of knee high red cowgirl boots are the only thing saving you from the mud right now.

Melly isn’t far behind, but she's not dressed in anything nearly as revealing as you. She’s making friends with Tommy who surprisingly hasn’t tried to flirt yet and claims to have no idea where his older brother has disappeared to. He’s endearing, but you know he’s playing for both sides here, hiding something for his brother.

On the drive into town, your parents take your dads truck, leaving you, Mel and Tommy in your car. When you get about half way, you finally break and ask if Tommy has seen Joel, if he knows if he’s coming. Tommy shrugs in the rearview mirror with a smile.

“I’m sure we’ll see ‘em.” Is the only answer you get.

It doesn’t happen for hours.

Hours of forcing a smile through mind numbing conversation with people you haven’t seen in years. The same old how have you been in the big city? and you tell them it was hard work and commitment. They ask no plans for the future? like you’re doomed without a ring on your hand at your age. You keep your head up through every comment, back handed compliment and pick up line that passes you by for a whole fucking hour on the dance floor alone.

“I think I want to go home soon. I’m having the worst fucking time, my feet are killing me and I think my eyelash is falling off.” Your whining and limping, faking distress and discomfort for any shot to get the fuck out of here, go home and maybe you can chance a run in with Joel.

Maybe he’s coming in from the north pasture where he’s probably been hiding all day. He’d be covered in muck and sweat, dirt clinging to the creases in his face. He’d be tired and worn out, vulnerable to the way you’d take advantage of his weakened restraint. “You sure you don’t want to stay a few minutes longer?” Melly muses beside you sipping on a tall glass of tequila on ice, watching the small town’s people converse and dance, laugh and gather together under the low string lighting.

You take a long drag of the drink in your own hand, your third of the night that's finally starting to warm your insides. It’s not enough to ease the ache of wishing Joel would appear. You know he won't, there's only a few hours left and people are starting to get tipsy. “I think you might want to rethink that…the devil himself just walked in, twelve o’clock.”

You look up at her, in a pretty green dress with curly hair framing her face. She’s smirking over your shoulder at something—or someone behind you. You turn the rest of the way around and swear you’re in the middle of one of those movie scenes.

The ones where the love interest walks in and sexy rock plays while they walk in slow motion. With wind blowing this hair back even though they are inside. Joel fucking Miller was doing exactly that at this very minute, striding through the hall in his cowboy hat and a black button down, dark wash jeans and his boots. He looks like a wet dream standing there, looking a little bit lost and so damn handsome. Under his hat, you can see that his hair is slicked back and he looks clean like he’d gone home and gotten ready.

He’s here.

“Oh he looks…if you don’t ask him to dance, I will. He’s hot.” You wish you could explain to her that Joel is more than that, that he’s funny and endearing, that he’s honorable and loyal to a fault. He’s so many more things than just hot. You swivel around as he makes his way through the crowd, he’s bound to find you and you don’t want him to spot you gawking at him. “Do I look okay? Fuck he looks so good—is my hair alright?” You try to do a quick pat down but Melly grabs your hand with a smile. “You look fine. He’s not going to know what hit him, I promise—but he’s coming this way so whatever you do, chill out.”

She sets her drink on the tall table, the ones that adorn the outside of the dance floor for people who want to mingle. You take a long drink of yours and move to set it down when someone clears their throat behind you. The drink hits the table and you turn slowly, till you rotate around to face him completely. He’s even more devastating up close with pearl snap buttons on his shirt, his arms nearly bulging out of the damn thing. His facial hair looks shorter, his eyes shimmering with reflected light.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’, standin’ here all by herself on her birthday?” He grins at you and takes another step forward. “Guess I’m just waiting for the right cowboy to ask me for a dance.” You tease back, reaching out for him once he’s close enough for you to touch. You start at his stomach, soft under his dress shirt. When your hands make contact, a visible shiver runs through Joel.

There’s suddenly two more hands to join the party, one high up on your waist while the other curves around low on your hip, his digits digging into the top of your ass. “I’ll be real’ honest with you here, doll—askin’ you for a dance is the only reason I came tonight.” He smells good for once, usually you catch a hint of his shower under the smell of dirt and manure, a faintness of his once clean skin. Now, it’s all you can focus on—how he’d taste like his soap, smooth and clean, every part of him reachable by your watering mouth. “Well, Cowboy…go on.” Your hands slip up his chest and over his broad shoulders, like you’ve imagined yourself doing a thousand times. He’s responsive, lowers his shoulders so you fit along him perfectly.

“Would ya make this old man's day, let me have a dance?” His hand drops lower, along the side of your thigh until he can dig them into the curve under your ass. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was trying to hoist you up, drag you into that vice-like grip you want to be at the mercy of every day of your life. “Can’t get me any closer, Joel.” You giggle, hiding your face against his neck. He smells like after shave and a little like whiskey. “I thought you were giving up drinking?” You nip at his jaw lightly, just to listen to the way he rumbles against you.

“I’m—tryin’ to keep my cool here, but you look fucking incredible tonight. Needed a little courage to walk up to you, s’all.” He leans back slightly, looking down at the way your dress squeezes your tits together, nearly pouring out of the black satin. “Fucking…gorgeous in this thing, you know that? You knew how sexy this little thing was, didn’t you?” He pulls at the slit that exposes your thighs, raking it up a little higher, until he can get a handful of bare skin. He’s not wrong—you’d put the dress on and thought about all the ways it would drive Joel crazy if he saw you in it.

“You better take me dancing before you take this off of me.” The dance around you has started to fade away. Melly took her cue to go and has started to make conversation elsewhere. “With pleasure, darlin’.”

Joel all but carries you to the middle of the dance floor before you notice his obvious nervous ticks, the shake of his hands and the way he’s fighting the urge to gnaw on his thumb. He’s anxious despite his obvious attempt at faking composure. When you wrap your arms around his shoulders again, he stammers. “Need to tell you somethin’.” His voice is a little shaky on the inhale when his hands find your waist again. “I went into town last week, there’s this dance studio on sixth street and I thought, maybe I could trade work for someone to…teach me how to use my damn feet.” For added flair, he reels away from you and spins you once before drawing you back into his chest as he moves. “So, I take it someone taught you?”

The song changes, something slow, romantic and sweet that couples join in around you, swaying together around the dance floor. “Lady said she’d been lookin’ for someone to replace the dance floor. Told her I just wanted to learn to dance, so I’d stand a chance against the other schmucks askin’ you.” He dances you around for a few more moments, pulling out all the stops—every new move he learned. Was that why he was gone so much, disappearing every time you turned around? He was replacing a damn floor and learning how to dance, all for you?

“Joel—“ you start, trying to grab ahold of him for long enough to make him still. “There's somethin’ else,” he dips you back and your insides flutter, looking up at him with those big brown hopeful eyes. He stands you up right again and the dancing slows to a stop, right there in the middle of the dance hall. You’re sure the towns eyes are on you, your mom and dad, friends from high school, older people you’ve been around your entire life. “She wouldn’t let me leave without payin’ me for it, said dancin’ lessons don’t cost that much after all.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a envelope, sealed tight with a number written on the front.

“Ranch needs it a whole hell of a lot more than I do. S’just two grand, but I’ve found a few other odd jobs, so there will be more comin’, but it’s a start—“ your hand clasps over his clutching the envelope. You push his hand down, stepping forward until you're nearly standing on his own feet. “Joel Miller…are you going to stand there all night running your mouth, or are you going to kiss me?” This endearing man, this big, expressive cowboy who can’t seem to get anything right in his own eyes, but everything right in yours.

He chuckles, the hand not holding the envelope finds the side of your face, sliding his thumb along the apple of your cheek. He’s not the one to make the first move after all—after all the leading him towards it, the teasing and the showmanship. It’s you that stands up high on your tiptoes and drags him the rest of the way in, until his mouth finds yours in the lull of the dance hall, surrounded by swaying bodies and sweet music.

He sucks in a breath through his nose and his mouth opens, slots your lips between his when he finally, fucking finally gives all the way in. It’s sweet, chaste while you stand there, smack dab in the middle of the floor. Joel stuffs the envelope back into his pocket and his other hand finds your body again, yanking until you're flushed against him, digging your hands into his shoulders when his tongue licks along the seam of your mouth, begging to be let into the slick heat. What was slow and steady, soon becomes frantic, hot and needy. Your fingers tug at the buttons of his shirt and someone shoots off a whistle from across the room, enough to have you reeling apart. Joel's mouth is red, his lips swollen and shiny from your spit.

“You want to get out of here?”

Yes. Fucking hell yes you wanted to, you’ve wanted to all damn night, but with Joel standing in front of you, a strained tent in his dark jeans, it’s all you can think about. Instead of a response, you grab him by his hand and all but drag him out the back doors towards the parking lot. It's quiet, dark—the dance isn’t even close to being over so there’s next to no one in the parking lot.

You never stood a chance, looking back on this moment right here. You never would have stood a chance, with Joel’s ragged breathing behind you when he closes the door tight behind him.

One look at his wild eyes and parted lips, you should have known how this night was going to end.

Joel was desperate. He needed you, needed to touch you every second of his day. He thought about you every second he spent awake and he dreamt of you all night long. When he’d heard about the dance, he wanted to kick himself for not learning sooner. Finding the dance studio was a fluke, learning to dance was a damn nightmare and the floor wasn’t much better, but he’d do it all again for another opportunity to press you up against the brick wall with your thighs pressed apart and his hips slotted between them while he all but devoured your mouth.

He’s ruthless, relentless as he drags your bottom lip between his teeth. You—you can't keep your sounds to yourself, hiking your legs up higher around his waist when he presses in closer. He can feel himself straining through his jeans, can feel the heat of your core against his painfully hard cock. He’d take you right fucking here if you let him. “Joel—Joel,” your hips roll down to meet his uncontrollable press forward. “I know—fuck, baby, I know.” His movements are hurried and frantic, like this might be the only shot he has to get his hands on you. His mouth finds your jaw and he bites down on your flesh, relishing in the salty taste of sweat from dancing, the tang of your perfume and the sweet taste of your skin. It’s your sharp whine that gets him in motion again, his stilled teeth still hanging on to your delicate jaw. “Touch me, please—please, touch me.”

In a scurry, he drops his hand between your bodies, pushing the fabric of your dress to the side so his fingertips can work under the elastic of your panties, past the soaked material to the place he’s always longed to touch, always wondered what it would feel like.

And you are fucking drenched under his exploring digits. He slips them through your lips, your slick already dripping down his knuckles when he finds your clit and presses the pad of his thumb to it, swirling it around in a swift motion. Your head falls back and your mouth hangs open, a silent scream on your parted lips.

“There it is, huh? S’what finally gets you quiet? Just needed me to touch your pussy, didn’t you?” He groans when your thighs tremble against him, trying to tighten up around his waist where he has you pinned to the cold wall. His thumb keeps its rhythm while his fingers dip lower, making him breathless at how easily your body draws those fingers in. You come apart like you were meant to do just that, your body rapidly chasing him towards the brink. If he hadn’t gotten himself off twice today, he’s sure he’d already have cum in his pants from just this. “Yes-Yes, Joel—make me cum, please!” Your voice is wrecked.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, your chest heaving in that pretty little dress—your tits are about to bust out of the damn thing. He picks up the pace, slams his fingers into your heat and curls them while his thumb makes quick work of your clit. It’s been so long since he touched a woman, but he’ll never forget the signs.

You are dangerously, furiously close in mere minutes alone. “That’s it, pretty girl—cum on these fingers, let me feel her squeeze me.” You cry out sharply and he nearly covers your mouth with his other hand, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he revels in the pulse of your pussy on his fingers, the way you grind down against him while your body grasps for release. It comes to you with a whole body shake, a ragged gasp of his name and his tongue on your jugular.

When he pulls his hand free, it’s with a wet sound that makes his gut tighten and his knees weak. He has to get you somewhere more secluded, away from the prying eyes of the town folks. “Wunna taste you,” he growls lowly, dragging you away from the building despite the way you stumble, the lightheadedness from cuming on his fingers.

His truck is parked in the back for lack of a better spot, due to his tardiness. He’ll thank his lucky stars for it later, if he can remind himself of it. Now, he slings the door open and nearly throws you down on the bench seat. “C’mere, girl.” He’s running out of will power and common sense, the only thing driving his mind right now is sheer want, carnal desire to get his mouth all over what he’s already ruined. He’s lucky for the part of his brain that slips off his hat and sets it on the dashboard. “Lemme see that fuckin’ pussy.”

His hands find the backs of your knees and he yanks you to the edge of the seat. At this angle, he can spread you out and kneel beside the truck, let you use the door jam to rest your foot on. When your eyes find him, he thinks you’re just as far gone as he is, blinded to the world unfolding around you, to rubber hitting asphalt nearby.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you, babygirl. Only word you’ll know is my name when I’m finished with you.” He pushes your dress up with your hurried help, both of you desperately trying to rid you of your clothes as quickly as possible. The second he has your panties dangling between his finger tips, he pushes his head between your spread legs and buries himself under your dress.

The thing about Joel is, he’s always been too good at this. Half the time, it's the only reason women stick around. It must have been the only reason he got his ex wife to marry him.

He’s abandoned his shame and better judgment. He’s starved, famished for a taste of you. This man, this unhinged version of Joel eats pussy like he’s going to die without it. From the very second his mouth finds your center, he’s lost to your immodest cries, your mindless begging for him to keep going, never stop, never stop, Joel—please. He opens his mouth wide, slops his tongue through your folds like he’s trying to lick every drop from your sensitive skin. He pulls away for a breath and his eyes bounce up to meet yours, transfixed on his relentless attack. “Wunna split this little pussy open on me,” he says, muffled against your soft mound. He takes another long lap and moans at the heady taste of you on his greedy tongue.

“I’ve been practicing—I got, oh, fuck Joel, like that,” your head tips back and he pulls his mouth away completely. “You got what, baby, use your words.”

Your body clenches on nothing and his eyes track the movement with a low rumble. “Got a toy that’s as big as you so I could practice. So I'd be able to take you.”

You’d thought about this, about him. You’d thought about him while fucking yourself on a toy you’d bought to train yourself.

He doesn’t have the words to express the way it makes his chest tighten, so he presses his face between your thighs again and gets back to work, drawing out every secret you can no longer hold onto, how good he makes you feel, how hot and devastating his tongue is—how the sound of a car pulling up doesn’t even register until—

“Jackson Police department, step away from the vehicle!”

You should have known.

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onlyhereforthestories · 10 months

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All It Takes Is A Bet (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

A fic from me finally! Well a normal fic. Sometimes writing is an escape for me and that last fic was just that. This one is more what I normally write and i have enjoyed writing it. To the person that requested it thank you <3

You weren’t a hugger, but when you did hug someone you knew that you made an impact. You had been told this fact not long into your teen years, a friend of yours had been dumped by a boy and you had given her the only comfort you knew people liked to receive. A hug. Which was a major shock to your friends group at the time because you had not once hugged any of them in the year you’d been friends. The friend that you hugged didn’t let go for a solid 5 minutes and was asked why by the rest of the group. She simply stated that you gave her the best hug she had ever had, even better than her own mothers.

That’s the interaction that started the constant in your life that was people doing whatever possible to receive a hug off you. For the most part you found it funny to see the desperation of some people to get something you didn’t really understand as being that wonderful, but it frustrated you a lot too. There was a reason you didn’t give out hugs unless they were needed, you found them to be vulnerable. And being vulnerable was not something you did in front of people, not unless you loved them.

This fact was highlighted even more when you joined Barcelona woman’s team. The girls there were different to everyone else, they had a constant need to be touching one another in some shape or form. They all respected your space and kept the touching to light brushes or piggy back celebrations only until the day you hugged Alexia for the first time.

It was the dying minutes of a league game, Barca needed to win to stay at the top of the table but your opponents were making it very difficult. You were all getting frustrated but no one more than Alexia. She always had felt that overall responsibility to be the one who changes the game and right now she was struggling to make anything happen, a fact you could see written all over her face every time you caught sight of it.

You were a forward by nature but today you were put in behind Jenni and had a bit more of a playmaker role and that’s just what you did a minute before the final whistle was being blown. You dropped in deeper than you had all game and picked up the ball from Mapi, as you turned you spotted Alexia making a straight run through the middle of the oppositions centre backs so you played a ball over the top which landed pretty much on the woman’s front foot. All Alexia had to do was control it with that first touch and slot it past the on rushing keeper, something she did with ease.

As soon as the ball hit the back of the net she was running at you, you had assisted a few goals for the Spanish superstar already but this one felt different, it felt important. So when she got close to you and jumped you did the unexpected and caught her, squeezing her in a tight hug that she stayed in for as long as was deemed acceptable for the middle of a game. The rest of the girls dog piling on top of you in celebration for not only the goal but the first hug you had given a member of the group.

The win was celebrated all together but that wasn’t the main talk of the dressing room, no the main talk was you hugging someone. Alexia found herself at the forefront of the questioning, most of them along the lines of what she had done for you to get the extra treatment.

You saved your captain from the questioning by telling the girls they could all get one hug on their birthday. This seemed to pull the teams mind away from questioning the hug that happened to who was going to get the next hug off you.

That was the first of many hugs you would go on to share with the woman everyone called their captain, a fact that both annoyed and excited some of your friends on the team. Each and every hug you shared with Alexia in front of them was spoken about and questioned, the teasing going unnoticed by the two of you. You remember after one hug Alexia had told them that your hugs were the best and that’s why she kept going back for more which had ended up with you running away from a mob of women football players all threatening you with a drowning if they didn’t get to know what it was like to hug you.

“Come on y/n, when are you going to admit that you either love La Reina or give us all more than one hug a year on our birthdays?” The tone of Mapi’s voice was both teasing and whiny, giving away the fact that she was very much hating and loving the conversation she had started.

“I will be doing neither of these things. I don’t hug people unless its needed and I don’t do feelings.” You went back to the porridge you had in front of you whilst the other women around the table shared a silent conversation.

“Okay how about this then.” Leila had a smirk on her face so you knew that whatever came next was going to be interesting in some way or another, never the less you nodded for her to continue when you realised she was waiting for the go ahead. “If you can refrain from hugging Alexia for the next week we will believe you don’t have feelings for her and stop asking for hugs from you all the time.” This had you confused, surely this was to easy. It wasn’t like you were actually in love with the woman they were talking about. Were you.

“You have a deal.” In your head this was the easiest win of the week, you don’t do hugs so having to have even less of them can’t be a bad thing.

Your thoughts on the bet changed by the end of the day, after a pretty successful weight session where you felt like everything moved really well, you sat down for lunch. Sitting at a table full of empty seats was your first error. By the time your chicken had cooled down enough for you to take a bite, the rowdy crew had joined your once silent table.

Claudia was whispering to Patri and Mapi before she cleared her throat and directed her eyeline to your figure. “So, we have all been let in on your current bet, well all of us that care.” The woman glanced to the table full of the more mature players on the team, of which the closest to you, Sandra turned round and stuck her tongue out at Claudia in retaliation to the comment. “and we want you to know if you do hug the all mighty caitana of ours, what do we get?”

Your eyebrows rose up at this, you were not sure what they were getting at but you knew this would not end well for you. These woman who you cared a lot for, were all strong headed and would not let you get away with anything.

“I did not make this bet in the first place! I don’t not have to do anything with a loss here, which won’t happen because I don’t do feelings as I said.” The words fell on deaf ears, all the women around you just continued to look at you waiting for a better answer than that. Throwing your hands in the air slightly in a very off character show of silliness you spoke “Fine. If I fail, which I won’t I will add again, you can all get a hug each.”

The girls all shared a look with one another, communicating silently about the offer you have given them and whether they would get any better if they pushed. When Mapi turned to you with the smile you could only describe as mischievous, you knew they were happy with what you had offered.

Once the girls had all nodded and attempted to get you to shake on it, which you would not, they finally left you alone to eat your now cold food in peace. Well as much peace as you could get with the lot of them around you still making jokes and laughing about the silliest of things. Something that although you might complain about to them you would never take for granted, being part of this team and this group was always worth the slight inconvenience.

You were putting your plate away when you caught a glimpse of Alexia, the midfielder gave you a small smile before starting to walk towards you. You had started greeting each other with a small hug recently and that came to mind as she got closer. You could feel the eyes of some of the women on the table you just left on your back, you couldn’t hug all of them more. In a moment of sheer panic you turned on your heal and bolted out of the dining room before she could reach you, there was no way you could lose the bet but you also knew you would not be able to deny the beautiful woman her hug. Oh fuck you were in for a long week.

You made it to the stairs down to the pitch when Pina came running up to you with Patri hot on her heels, “That was real smooth and totally not a giveaway to the fact that you are so loosing this bet.” Before you could tap the back of the young players head, they were off back in the direction of the food hall.

You shook your head and started towards the field muttering under your breath about stupid bets with silly teammates and blue eyes so captivating they made your mind fog.

Alexia noticed a difference in you right away, you were not going near her and when you did you would link your fingers behind your back and avoid as much eye contact as you could. A complete change to the stage you had got to with the Spanish midfielder, and Alexia was pretty sure that the group of women giggling and whispering just over her shoulder had something to do with it. She made a mental note to get some information out of them after she spoke to you.

“Whatever is going on here we are talking about it Wednesday, we have dinner with Alba that you promised her you would be there. And as cute as you are all nervous, I do like seeing your eyes.” This got your attention and your head snapped to meet her face. You sheepishly smiled at her and nodded your agreement of what she had told you. You had promised the younger Putellas sister you would have dinner with them after Alba had hijacked a coffee morning of you and Alexia’s. When Alexia went to reach for your fiddling fingers your eyes widened and you hurried out a goodbye before running for the pitch to start training as a distraction.

You were so unsure about your feelings right now, you were so sure this would be easy but it wasn’t. You had never wanted to feel someone's touch before so desperately but you did now, All you wanted was to pull Alexia into you and not let go. God you were in deep.

The next few days at training were hard, between the constant teasing from the group of that you had now dubbed children and the avoiding as much contact or interactions as you could with Alexia in person, you were exhausted. What you didn’t know was that Alexia had managed to find out exactly why your mood towards her had changed, she had overheard Pina and Patri talking about the distance you had obviously put between you both and they were giggling like school girls about you losing the bet very soon.

She could see the toll it was having on you, the twitch in your fingers when she got close and the slight longing look in your eye when she caught it. Alexia decided it was time to step in and help if she could, she hated seeing you and not hugging you at the very least. She was going to talk to you alone and plan how to get through this, and maybe give you a hug to get you through if you didn’t think it was cheating. She was starting to understand that she felt stronger feelings than she had thought previously for you but she wasn’t going to put that on your plate just yet. It wasn’t the time and she didn’t want to lose what you had started to build. This plan of hers would require getting you alone without anyone knowing though which was not going to be an easy task. The girls were keeping both eyes on you at all times waiting for you to break.

Alexia’s only plan was to see you outside of football, that’s how she found herself outside your apartment door. She was nervous which was odd, she was here to help you out but it felt like more. It felt personal and private to be here alone, especially with how she has been feeling over the last month. Shaking that thought off she knocked softly and stepped back to give you some space when you opened the door.

You pulled the door open with a small confused frown on your face, you were just settling down to watch some old game footage for the evening and you weren’t expecting any visitors. Upon seeing the person behind the knock, your face changed into a small, shy smile and you didn’t even asked why she was there just opened the door wider and stepped to the side to allow her to come in.

Alexia whispered a small thank you as she walked past the doorway but what threw you off guard was the kiss she pressed ever so softly to your cheek as she passed you. It had you frozen with your door wide open and staring straight ahead of you. The sound of Alexia hanging her coat on the rack broke you out of your shock and you closed the door and lead her through to your small kitchen to get her a drink.

After getting two bottles of water from the fridge and handing one to the Spanish beauty, you lead her through to the front room to sit on the sofa. You wouldn’t lie to yourself, the itch to hug her was high. Since you laid eyes on her on the doorway to your apartment all you had wanted to do was hug her, be held by her, hold her. But you couldn’t, not if you wanted to keep to the less hugging you are used to, that you would like to continue just with the exception of her.

“Game footage?” Alexia’s smooth voice broke through the silence and caused you to look at her. Having her in your house was surreal, she looked even more beautiful sat in your environment. Your brain flashed to quiet mornings in, sipping coffee on your sofa with the woman cuddled with you speaking about anything and everything. Shaking your head to rid yourself of those unneeded thoughts, you tried to remember what Alexia had just asked.

“Oh yeah, it’s the final you guys won last year. The Copa de la Reina.” You had asked for the footage to see the style of play in which the women played in major tournament games, something you hadn’t seen yet in person. Jona had been more than happy to send it to you, seemingly excited about your thought process and enthusiasm.

“This was a good game, the girls played so well. We would have scored even more if you were there.” You could feel the flush creeping up your neck without your control. You were never one to take compliments well, you just didn’t know what to do or say when someone gave them to you, so you nodded and ducked your head so that the woman next to you couldn’t see what effect she had on you.

Alexia however could see the redness on your neck and it filled her with warmth and hope, hope that the conversation she is about to initiate with you will go the best way it can. It wasn’t a conversation she was planning on having with you today but she felt like it was the right time, that it was only fair to you that you know what she is feeling.

“You scored enough La Reina.” You had broken out of your shyness and gone down the teasing route. You even sent the woman next to you a small cheeky wink.

This took Alexia by surprise, you laughed at the shocked look on her face which snapped her out of it. Digging her fingers into your sides had you barking out a louder different laugh, the woman with you giggling along before taking mercy on you and stopping the movement of her fingers.

As you took a moment to calm your currently ragged breath, you looked up and noticed the position you and Alexia found yourself in. She had one hand behind your back on the sofa which meant she was leaning slightly over you, her hair falling over her face. A face that was only inches away from yours, a face that was smiling down at you and had a look in her eye you couldn’t quite place. Alexia reached up slightly and swept some of your hair behind your ear before doing the same with her own before she spoke.

“This wasn’t how I planned on telling you this but life sometimes works in weird and wonderful ways. I was going to talk to you about this today anyway but right now all I want to do is kiss you. Please can I kiss you?” Alexia held eye contact with you the whole time she spoke, it was only when she finished that her eyes dipped to your lips. You were at a loss for words no words could explain what you felt right now, but you knew you wanted to kiss her too so you nodded.

Not a second after your head had moved did you feel the soft press of the lips that the women you had been slowly falling for connect with yours. You both took a few minutes of soft sweet kisses to map out each other’s lips, both leaning back in whenever a break in the kiss happened neither wanting it to end. By the time Alexia pulled back, you found yourself laying under the older woman, her hands on either side of your head so you weren’t being crushed. You could feel your cheeks heating up once again when you thought about what you just did and what could come from this so you tugged her closer so you could hide in her neck.

Alexia shifted you both so you were laying sideways and she started running her hands through your hair. You had melted into her, snuggled under her chin and soaking up the calmness of the moment when your brain triggered. Pushing yourself backwards away from her you thumped to the ground, hard. “What are you doing y/n? Did you hurt yourself?” Alexia was leaning off the sofa looking over you. Your eyes were wide as you processed you lost the bet, you would now have to deal with the constant asks for hugs and they would know you liked Alexia. You were freaking out and Alexia could see it.

“Y/n carino?” She called you, she didn’t want to startle you but she needed to get through to you. “Miel?” The pet names were slipping out but she didn’t care she was just trying to get through to you. Deciding that her voice wasn’t going to help she got down and kneeled by you before cupping your face and brushing your cheek with her thumb. She saw the moment you come back to her, your eyes locked and yours welled up. “Hey it’s okay, can you tell me what’s got you upset? I’m sorry if I shocked you. I shouldn’t have forced you into that.”

That fully snapped you out of your current running thoughts, you never wanted her to think she did something wrong here. “No, no. You didn’t force me at all, I promise I wanted that just as much if not more than you did. It was more the cuddling after, I lost the bet.” You saw the relief wash over the brunette beauties face before you saw the smile take over and the laugh that bubbled up and out of her mouth. You were confused about what was funny about that but you weren’t complaining about hearing the woman’s sweet laughter.

Alexia composed herself before she explained, “Lo siento, it’s just that I kiss you and all you think about is losing a bet with the girls. You’re lucky I like you and know you because otherwise my pride would be incredibly hurt. And because I know you I know you are worrying about whatever they said you had to do if you lost the bet, but don’t worry about that because they don’t need to know you lost. You have 3 days left before you win and we both know I want you to win.” You blushed at the wink she sent your way as well as the words she spoke, she wanted you to win so maybe you hadn’t lost just yet.

Alexia held out her hand for you to take, which you did without hesitation, and when you grasped it she pulled you both back up onto the sofa and back into a similar position you were in before. This time your back was pressed into her front and she pressed a kiss to your hairline before pressing play on the footage and spending the evening talking the game through with you.

It was the final day of the bet and you, albeit through cheating, were finding not hugging Alexia easy. Yes that was only because you got to hug her outside of being with the team so not hugging her around them wasn’t really a concern to you anymore. The only problem is that the girls were getting suspicious, the longing looks and slight sadness that was you at the beginning of the week had disappeared and they had all noticed. Alexia pointed it out last night and had warned you that they would come at you today to try and win the bet they so really wanted to win.

The two of you had devised a plan that you were sure would catch the others off guard, not to mention prank them at the same time. Your only issue was you weren’t the best at putting things on like emotions so you just hoped the girls didn’t look too much into your facial expressions.

When you saw Leila backed by Patri and Pina on either side of her heading in your direction at training you almost bolted off the field, but they were there already and you bolting wouldn’t make you look any less suspicious anyway. You tried to look a little annoyed before they even started talking so they would get the hint you’d had enough with all this and you wouldn’t have to do the plan you put into place, but they didn’t and so it was time to put the plan into play.

“You’ve been too happy for a girl that has had no physical displays of affection with their major crush in almost a week. Well until today, you’ve got this miss grumpy pants expression on your face constantly.” You grunted at that, at least your slight annoyance about their presence was working in your favour.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You decided the vague approach would be the best, you weren’t one for sharing your feelings normally anyway the girls usually had to prise it out of you and that was what they would have to do for this fake information too. But to put it on a bit more you dropped the sides of your mouth a little when you looked off and saw the Spanish beauty you hoped one day soon you would get to call yours. When you both were ready for that.

You saw Leila follow your eyeline and spot who had made your expression change, turning back to you she gave you a confused look before speaking again, “Why haven’t you spoken to her today, you are normally attached at the hip even though we’ve got this bet on. Has something happened?”

Now was your chance, you mustered up all the thoughts of sad kitten and puppies in the hope of bring at least a single tear to your eye. Blinking rapidly you felt a drop on your cheek and the shocked expression of your friends told you it had worked, and worked at the right time too because before they could ask what was happening or why you were sad training was resumed. Step 1 complete.

You avoided any and all interaction that wasn’t football based throughout all the training session and Alexia help her part of the plan by staying as far away from you as she could. You could tell that your plan was working because by the time you got changed and went to the food hall, all the girls who had a bet with you were huddled round a table whispering and glancing over their shoulders.

Step 2 was well into motion. You kept your head down and collected your food taking it to one of the tables as far into the corner as you could and made sure you had your back to the rest of the hall. When you heard the footfalls head your way you made sure to straighten your posture before grunting out a “What do you want?”

“I want you to come and sit with us like normal. I know you won't talk about what is wrong and I get that but don’t ignore us.” Leila had a point and you knew it. No matter the plan you didn’t want to upset your friends so you stood up and followed her knowing that this might mess up the plan.

When Alexia entered the food hall after her captains meeting, she was confused when she didn’t spot you at the table you said you'd be at. When she scanned the room and spotted you at your normal table she was slightly confused that makes the plan trickier. Deciding that this was obviously okay with you as you were there she went ahead with the plan with the slight change of location although she needed a few minutes to think of something to say now.

The original plan had been for you both to whisper random stuff in a heated way to make it look like you were arguing and then you to storm out but now Alexia actually had to think of words to say that weren’t going to hurt you.

You were listening quietly to a conversation Patri was having with Claudia when Alexia made her way over, you had seen her walk in a little while ago and thought maybe she was going to pull out of the prank plans you had because of your change of location but maybe not. When she reached you, you noticed the faraway look in her eye. You thought maybe she was detaching herself from what she was about to say.

“I need you to leave me alone y/n, I asked you yesterday for you to do this but you still tried to come near me at training. I’m your captain not your friend, I don’t want to be your friend.” You knew she didn’t mean it but you couldn’t help the pang of pain you felt from hearing her say this, at least getting up and leaving because you were upset wasn’t hard to fake. Because you didn’t.

“What the hell Ale?” “Jesus what’s wrong with you?” “She's done nothing to you.” Alexia was bombarded with angry teammates but she wanted nothing more than to run after you. She could have swarm she saw a tear leaving your eye as you got up which wasn’t part of the plan.

“She stopped whatever was happening between us, I liked her and she just stopped.” Alexia wanted to teach the girls a lesson still like planned so she said what you asked her to days ago when you made the plan. She looked around the group as their faces fell, each and every one of them at least had the decency to have guilty looks plastered across their faces.

“Oh god what have we done.” Leila was the first to speak and before Alexia could ask her what she meant, even if she already knew, Claudia was spilling the whole bet. Alexia listened to it all before she turned on her heels abruptly. “Idiotas” With that being said she left the hall in search of you.

Alexia found you in your safe spot, the pitch. You were laying in the centre circle staring up at the clouds that had just covered the sun, temporarily giving you a relief from the heat. She made her way over to you and laid next to you before snaking her fingers down your arm and slotting your hands together. She was incredibly relieved when you didn’t pull away, even let a small smile slip out when you squeezed her hand.

“You didn’t mean what you said right?” Your voice was small and insecure she could hear it. Alexia vowed to herself at that moment she would do all she could to make sure you never doubted how she felt for you from that moment on.

“Well maybe slightly…” Alexia was cut off when you attempted to sit up and pull your hand away, something she didn’t let you do. “No wait listen hermosa, I meant that I slightly meant it because I don’t just want to be your friend. I want to be your one, the one you feel safe with, the one that you call on bad days, the one that hopefully one day you come home to. I want you to be my girl.”

You could feel the tears slip down your cheeks as you pulled on the woman's hand to get her closer to you, just where you wanted her. “I was yours the moment you hugged me that first time.”

The smile you shared would be one you would remember for a long time, both of your building feelings shone in your eyes. You tugged a little harder on your joined hands and Alexia fell into you. You didn’t even give her a second to think before you connected your lips to hers. The two of you sat there on the training ground pitch sharing sweet kiss for a few minutes, soaking up the new development in your shared chapter.

When you pulled back to lay back down Alexia followed, she tucked her head into the crook of your neck and made herself comfortable against your side. She was just doing off in the comfort you made her feel when the scream came from the tunnel.

“Your hugging La Reina! We win. Y/n you better get rid of your girl because I want me promised hug.” Leila’s loud mouth really did project in the quiet of the almost empty field.

You bolted upright, grabbed your now girlfriends hand and shared a quick look before saying. “Run.”

#woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas imagines #alexia putellas x reader

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jaeclerc · 5 months

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just 3.1K of my maxiel demon au for the lovely @powerful-owl ! happy birthday <3 i knew i needed to gift you a little something because you are literally one of the reasons I started to publish any of my f1 works!

cw: mentions of death, blasphemy, and tail fucking

“Maximus,” Daniel greeted him, making Max look up from where he was fucking around on his computer instead of sorting some of the files that he was supposed to be sorting “Tell Torger I have a date so the SEED meeting is a no from me but a huge yes from Charles. And you.”

Max rolled his eyes, staring Daniel down. He was still floating from probably showing off to whoever this date was, trying to impress them with the fact that he was The Devil. Max had seen him try and pick up when they went to the occasional Earth-side bar and he always pulled out the floating and tail as if most people weren’t scared of such a figure like The Devil. He was always baffled when it worked and Daniel ditched them to go off and do whatever he did on these trysts.

(Max tried to never think about it, lest he has to address the deep jealousy that crops up)

“I do not want to go, Daniel.” Max sighed, his fingers going back to pecking out the email he had already pulled up to draft to George, Toto’s assistant. He did not want to go but he still would, because he knew that these small pleasures came rarely to Daniel.

He’s spent over 40 years with Daniel and Charles, he knew them better than he would wish to admit. He knew that Charles was riddled with guilt for disparaging his mother and then dying and he still visited her salon when he could, disguised as a random teen.

He knew that Daniel felt so heavy with the burden of what put him in the position to be The Devil that he rarely gave himself any sort of actual happiness. Underneath the cherry red eyes and poker tail, he was scared of what he had to do daily to maintain his existence. He was secretly devastated that he and his fellow soldiers had died in a war that was supposed to end them all, just for another one to pop up 20 years later. He held his responsibility heavy around his neck like a collared dog.

“I know, Maxi-Pad, but: I’m your boss and I want you to attend. It’ll be good to help you get promoted.” Daniel simpered, a sly smile on his lips at his own joke.

“Promoted to what?” Charles chimed in as he walked in, angel dust still on his cheekbones from his angel boyfriend. Max didn’t understand why he always had to be Daniel’s assistant when there were two of them and Charles was perfectly capable of file organizing and emailing.

“To my two favorite demons!” He wrapped his arms around the both of them, dimples showing as he hugged them close. Letting out a pleased hum as he saw the email that Max was drafting

“We are, of course, the only demons you have.” Max snorted, signing his email off and sending it, even with Daniel squeezing him close. The Devil smelt like La Labo and Old Spice deodorant, as well as the Downey softener that he made all of Hell use.

All of Hell was just the three of them plus Charles’ boyfriend, but he still insisted that they all used it.

“Exactly! But, you’ll be my favorite demons out of alllll the demons and angels there are and that’s pretty sweet.” Daniel let go of them as George replied, confirming that it was alright for them to attend rather than Daniel.

“Great, now that we have that sorted: Charles I need your help picking out an outfit.” Daniel pulled Charles along and Max glared at him as Charles mouthed “Sorry!” over his shoulder.

Max went back to fucking around on reddit forums about being in love with your boss and the implications of it. Just for research. Humanity had become so informational since Max had died.

^_^

Max stewed about as he waited for Charles to finish helping Daniel, waiting to pounce on the other demon and quiz him on everything he knew. Daniel and Charles were each other’s gossip partners, but Max was Daniel’s movie and grocery shopping partner so it evened out in time given. But, Charles still always had the information that Max felt like he was missing.

When Charles finally walked out with a faint grin that bloomed into an intense smile when he saw Max, giggling to himself as Max glowered at him.

“Max, you are so silly.” Was all he said when he finally stopped in front of him, hands crossed as he looked quite smug.

“What do you mean?” Max said, huffy and indignant even if he was admittedly acting super silly and like a teenager with a crush. Which was: accurate but embarrassing. He was only a teenager in body, but in his 50s in spirit and yet he was acting pouty and jealous.

“Just tell Daniel that you like him! He adores you, you guys are always going on little trips together, no?” Charles was always so cryptic with him, it was frustrating.

“That doesn’t mean-you know, the world wide web says that it’s unethical for a boss to sleep with an employee.” Charles snorted, flopping next to Max on the living room couch, sprawling out and putting his feet under Max’s legs, which Max just accepted. It was 15 years too late to shove Charles away, anyway.

“We’re not his employees, we are his friends. Seb told me that Daniel was so lonely before we were chosen and that’s why he picked us out. He needed someone like us. Someone like him.” Charles said.

“Insane?” Max asked

“Gay and lonely.” Charles amended, pausing before adding “And insane.”

Max huffed a laugh, hugging his arms around himself, before preparing himself to ask. But, he didn’t have to, Charles already coming out with it.

“The guy’s name is Emiliano.” He said, a small smile playing on his lips “And Daniel really seems to like him. He couldn’t stop talking about how beautiful his, ah, turquoise eyes were.”

Max openly stared at Charles. What a best friend he was, saying all of this to him when he knew how Max felt!

“Come on, let’s get ready for the meeting. We can go out afterwards.” Charles had that look in his eyes that he had whenever he was planning something. Probably going to try and set Max up at the club they frequent, just so he wasn’t stewing so much about what Daniel could possibly be doing with his tail.

Charles had him dressed in his best white button up, the ripped black jeans that hugged his ass and thighs but weren’t too tight, and even let him borrow a pair of Jordan’s that were pristine and baby blue.

He made him wear his best cologne and style his hair in the nice tussled style that Charles said he looked best in, a sly grin on his face the entire time.

Unusually, Charles wasn’t dressed up with him, he was just in a faded t-shirt and some sweats. But, Charles had a face that distracted from anyone paying attention to anything else and he was taken, so he didn’t need to look good like Max did when they went out.

^_^

When Max walked through their transporting door (not to get confused with the door that dropped into the fiery pits), he was surprised to find himself without Charles and in a low lit restaurant, not the pristine marble halls of Angel Court.

He was also surprised to see Daniel smiling at him, horns and his tail out. Just like Max liked him, unashamed and glowing in his pseudo-godhood.

“Wha-We are missing the meeting.” Max was confused. Someone had to show up at the meeting, it was important and they had already pushed it back twice. It was to review their efficiency and what they needed to fix, which was a lot in Max’s opinion.

“No, Charles is at the meeting, Maxy. We are here.” Max frowned as Daniel stood up, walking towards him. He didn’t understand. Daniel was supposed to be on a date with Emiliano with the blue eyes while Max stewed and tried to convince Toto to give them another demon just so Max could do less desk work and more in the field work with Daniel.

“What about your date?” Max asked, voice softening as Daniel pulled out the chair for him and lightly pushed him down into it.

“You are my date, Max Emilian.” Daniel smiled at him, head tilting as he looked Max up and down, making him feel like there were a bunch of ants crawling up and down his spine with the way he shivered.

Daniel sighed, amused as he continued to just look at Max with his red fire filled eyes, tail flicking behind him absentmindedly as he reached out, hesitant. His thumb brushed Max’s clenched fist, rubbing softly over his knuckles.

“You like me, Max.” It was a fact, a statement that Daniel seemingly knew to be true with the way it came out of his mouth. Max flinched, feeling suddenly exposed,

“I like you too. Have since ‘97 when you rescued that cat from one of the sinners we had to confront.” Max was still silent, which seemingly amused Daniel.

“You also leave those forums that you browse open on the computer.” He added, which Max flushed at. He still felt a little out of depth.

“I was only on Earth for less than 20 years.” Max defended, unclenching his fist as Daniel’s hand wrapped loosely around his. “I don’t know these things. I lost my virginity and then died.” He flushed again at that admission. He had only told Charles about that little fact.

“I know all of that already. I also know that you would’ve never told me you liked me because you’re afraid that it’s against company policy.” Daniel’s thumb rubbed absentminded circles on Max’s knuckle, making his brain only able to focus on how wonderful it felt to have Daniel touching him.

“Turns out: I make the policy and I’ve decided it’s perfectly fine that you like me and I like you. It’s actually encouraged.” He continued, pausing his thumb to get Max to actually look at him.

Max felt deranged with how the suppressed want flowed through him, with the hope and adoration in Daniel’s eyes. Those eyes were looking at him, staring him down and Max wanted to lunge across the table and seal Daniel’s mouth shut with his own. He wanted to strip both of them down until all they had on was their matching horns (red for Daniel and gold for Max). He wanted to cry and yell that they’ve could’ve been together since 1997.

Instead he just replied, quite even and simple if he were to say so himself, “Well if it’s not against company policy and my boss is encouraging it, then, of course, as the star employee, I have to do it.”

Daniel beamed at him, lacing their fingers together.

^_^

Dinner was a quiet, tension filled affair. By the time that Max had his polite three bites of dessert, he was ready to go back home and present himself to Daniel like a cat in heat.

Instead, they walked out the door of the cute Italian restaurant and started walking, Daniel swinging their hands between them as he chatted with Max about small things. Max just wanted to get home, back to Hell and the comfort of their shared house so he could kiss Daniel, too nervous to kiss him in public, unsure how people would react around them.

“Are you good?” Daniel asked as he noticed Max start to slow down, dragging his arm out.

“Can we go home?” Max asked instead of answering. Daniel tilted his head before nodding, his face looking a little less excited than he was before. He snapped his fingers and guided Max through the next available door, right into their living room.

“What’s-“ Max didn’t let Daniel finish, gripping his shoulders and pulling him in for a frankly messy kiss, all nerves and inexperience. Daniel relaxed, hands coming up to cup Max’s jaw, tail wrapping around Max’s waist as they fell into each other.

Daniel was a lot more smooth than Max, coaxing him out of his frantic kissing and into something a little more slow and exploratory, gently tasting each other’s mouths.

Max wanted more and more. He secretly knew that if he ever had Daniel, he would actually lose his mind. He would never be able to have his fill, the endless void of want opening itself up to consume everything Daniel could ever give him and that scared him. The enormous feelings that encompassed him whenever Daniel was around. It was a million times worse already, now that he knew Daniel wanted him back.

He was canting his hips into Daniel’s without even realizing, seeking his warmth to soothe the burn of his own need.

“Max.” Daniel chuckled as Max let out a soft gasp, his own eyes flying open as he felt flooded with embarrassment. He had also feared that his desperation would be so easy to see the moment that he was ever in this position. It wasn’t easing his mind that he was right: Daniel was going to make him absolutely sick with love and want.

He pulled away, wanting to curl up and hide from his own arousal, his body pulsing like he had a heartbeat still.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Daniel soothed, his tail still wrapped around his waist, drawing him in. He pressed a kiss to the space under Max’s ear, pulling him close. Max could feel Daniel’s dick against his hip, half hard and pressing against him as Daniel trailed small kisses against Max’s neck, making his head tilt to the side.

“Daniel-“ He cut himself off before he continued, trying to find the words “Let me.”

He pulled away just a little so he could make Daniel feel good but paused when Daniel’s hands covered his, stopping him.

“Don’t worry about that, baby.” Daniel assured him, his hands guiding Max’s hands to his waist. “We have plenty of time for me. I’ve been tortured into watching you wear these jeans for years without being able to appreciate your thighs.” His hands dropped from Max’s to grab at Max’s ass, palming it before sliding down and gripping Max’s thighs.

Max let out a soft sound, his hips twitching into thin air as Daniel gripped him before letting go and unhooking his button and unzipping his jeans with quick efficiency that had to come from practice. Max would ruminate over that later when he didn’t have Daniel’s hands down his pants, cupping him gently through his boxers.

Max had always been secretly ashamed of what he was (or wasn’t, rather) packing. Even the guy he fucked in the confession box had seemed a little shut down when he realized that Max didn’t exactly have the length to fuck him and so he’d have to top.

But Daniel looked down at what his hand was cupping and audibly moaned when he saw Max’s cock jutting out, barely the length of his middle finger and flushed an angry red from his want.

“I’m so-“ Max started and Daniel cut him off with a shake of his head, palming Max and wrapping his thumb and forefinger around him, stroking him as he used his other hand to press his thumb against the mole on Max’s lip, effectively shutting him up.

“You drive me insane with how perfect you are, don’t you dare apologize.” Daniel’s eyes flared with more fire as he spoke. Max’s lips parted, not to disagree but to take Daniel’s thumb into his mouth, sucking in long draws when he couldn’t think of anything else. He needed something to ground himself before he came all over Daniel’s hand from some heavy petting and praise.

Daniel’s tail crept down the back of Max’s boxers, which were now sagging down his thighs, the poker end gently pressing against him as if Daniel was trying to breach him. Max’s hand flew up to grip Daniel’s hair but caught on his horn, grabbing the first thing felt for purchase as the end gently probed against him, his toes curling in his borrowed shoes.

This was going to end embarrassingly quickly if Daniel didn’t stop using everything he had against Max.

Max hissed, sounding muffled against Daniel’s thumb as he continued to use his tail on him, not pushing far, just enough to make Max feel set on fire from his greatest fantasy coming to life.

“You want my tail?” Daniel asked, seemingly blown away by Max’s reaction to some light exploring. Max felt feverish at the suggestion, just nodding as his eyes fluttered open and then shut, the whole image too much for him.

Daniel took his thumb from Max’s mouth, even as Max tried to chase it, worrying that he would spill just how much he wanted every part of Daniel inside of him at once and how much he had fantasized it.

He heard a snap before he felt something cold drip down his crack and over hole, slick and viscous. He realized, probably a couple seconds too late, that Daniel had conjured lube so he could give Max just that.

The first press of Daniel’s tail inside of him had him feeling light headed as Daniel slowly stroked him, thumb pressing the under side of his cock deliciously, seemingly deeply aware of what made Max tick already.

Max gasped as it breached him fully, curled up inside of him and just tad too hot to be fully human, making him swear as he attempted to rock back against it, his fingers curling around Daniel’s horns even more, yanking him down as Daniel gasped as well, mouth instinctively sealing against Max’s collarbone.

Max’s horns were very sensitive and they were only a third of the size of Daniel’s, so he can’t imagine just how sensitive Daniel’s were with how Max was holding onto them.

Daniel’s tail curled inside of Max again and he felt himself hurdling down the cliff into pure bliss as he moaned, spilling onto Daniel’s hand embarrassingly quick, clenching around Daniel’s tail as he came down.

Daniel as breathing heavily, his hand that caught Max’s cum furiously stroking himself off, his mouth still sucking on Max’s neck as he hurdled down after Max, spurred on by the way that Max was stroking his horns, watching with his mouth dropped open in awe.

“Fuck.” Daniel half laughed once they were both breathing normally, his tail still in Max. “We need to see just how much of my tail you can take.”

#maxiel fic #maxiel #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #demon au #i apologize if this is terribly ooc #but also who cares u know LMFAO #mentions of sebchal #charles leclerc #f1 fic rec #f1 fic #this is minimally edited sorry !

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beanghostprincess · 5 months

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You know, One Piece is all fun and happyness untill you learn that the world and themes are actually some of the darkest and most depressing things that were ever put on paper. The biggest potrayal of this tho is the fact that many characters have different running gags and quirks that are actually products of their horrible past trauma and messed up life.

Luffy- Wants to befriends literally everybody because of his fear of being alone and picks fights with all the people he doesn't like because he wants to protect his friends.

Nami- Her greed and kleptomania were developed because her mom literally died because sge was poor and was never able to give her and Nojiko all they wanted/needed.

Usopp- Makes absurd lies about everything because as a kid he had to keep lying to keep his mother happy and when she died he kept on doing so to keep himself safe.

Sanji- Puts all women on a super high pedestal because growing up women like his mom and sister wrre the only good people in his life and men like his Judge and his brothers were fucking awful.

Brook and Robin- Super S tier dark humor to cope with S tier dark trauma.

In other words, One Piece is just a comedy passing drmatic anime, but I think we all already knew that.

Ah, yes, I love this topic so much.

But I wouldn't say One Piece is a "comedy passing dramatic anime". One Piece is both comedy and drama. The drama doesn't hide behind comedy at any moment. You don't have to actively look for it or read between the lines to understand the characters. I think Oda is an amazing writer because he manages to just tell us/show us about his characters in the clearest and most obvious of ways. He throws hints at us over the episodes to then explaining it to us very carefully how his characters are built. This is why I find so difficult to understand why people (mainly from the general audience or, y'know, dudebros) don't get the characters in the first watch/read. An example of a comedy passing dramatic show would probably be just any sort of satiric comedic show in which they don't actually address the drama but instead make jokes about it. Like It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia (God I love that sitcom).

I know what you mean, though. You're talking about the whole "making jokes/running gags about something when the reason behind them is actually way deeper". And I agree wholeheartedly.

Luffy has abandonment issues and that's why he keeps wanting to protect his friends and hates being alone, Nami sees money as safety and comfort because her mom died because they lacked money, Usopp's lies come from trying to make her mom happy because his dad left them, Sanji has an obsession with women because they're the only ones who never hurt him, Brook and Robin have no filter when it comes to dark humor because they've been alone for so long that the only way they have to cope is jokes and nobody gets them except them... And also:

We treat Zoro's relationship with Tashigi as comedic at some points but he has so much trauma regarding his best friend dying that he can't be close to someone who looks like her.

We make fun of and exaggerate Sabo's love for Luffy to the point of brocon/possessiveness because he literally spent most of his life having forgotten him and when he remembers his brothers, one of them dies, so of course he wants to look after the little one.

Boa's love for Luffy exists exclusively because she feels safe around him and it's the first man who has never seen her as a sexual object.

And a lot more of these but, basically, Oda is great at character building and writing because these are not things that you have to read between the lines. These are not exaggerations for the reader to understand what's going on with the characters. These are just trauma responses that constantly happen in real life. It's just a well-written story with awesome, realistic characters, and I absolutely love it.

#you're so right with this ask btw #thank you bc i wanted to talk about this for a really long time !!!!#one piece #nami #usopp #black leg sanji #monkey d. luffy #revolutionary sabo #roronoa zoro #boa hancock #soul king brook #nico robin

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aikoiya · 4 months

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I just do not understand the insistence that animals must be sentient.

Because if they were, then why are the animals that kill other animals not labeled as murderers?

Hell, why aren't cats seen as malicious, mini, jigsaw killers considering how they play with their food. Why aren't ewes looked upon with disgust for often trampling orphaned lambs that a farmer tries to get them to adopt? Why aren't wolves seen as bullies for hunting in packs to kill prey? Why aren't dolphins more acknowledged for being effing rapists?

If you believe that animals are capable of reasoning, then that automatically makes all animals that eat meat into exactly what humans that eat meat are, thus they should be looked upon with every bit as much scorn as certain vegans look upon regular ass people. And it'd also mean that any animal that hunts is a murderer.

Hell, many animals are cannibals! In fact, plenty even eat the young of other animals or even their own young if they're so much as lacking in B12!

Literally! Mother hamsters are known to eat her own babies if she's put on an all-corn diet! They don't even have to be dying because of it!

You can't claim that animals are all sentient & then not hold them responsible for their actions! That's hypocritical! Because if these animals are sentient, then they are making the active decision to commit these actions & should be held acountable for them! Period!

Seriously, unless an animal is specifically an obligate herbivore, they will likely still eat meat given the chance!

And, whether you like it or not, animals are only as vegan as their options. As soon as times get tough for a deer, it's gonna be eyeing up any little Tweeties or Thumpers they come across. Same with horses, sheep, ect.

In fact, if animals are as deserving of life & respect as us, then doesn't that make having pets the same as slavery? And how do cat owners even justify feeding their pets? At least those that force their cats into a vegan lifestyle are being consistent even though they're abusing the poor things. Those cats aren't gonna live to be 10 years old on a diet like that & they'll be miserable the whole time.

Like, how do people twist their brains into so many directions just to justify their lifestyles??

Seriously, humans are so freaking unique within the animal kingdom. We are probably the only creatures who would do all this nonsense for the sake of critters that honestly don't give an eff.

Like, dude, whatever. You don't wanna eat meat, then don't. No skin off my brow. More brisket for me! But don't moralize your choice & don't demonize those who love a delicious steak.

Here's what some don't seem to understand; those animals are gonna die anyway, whether it's by the hand of man, a predator animal, sickness, or old age. Their days are numbered no matter what. And, quite frequently, they'll still get eaten. So, in the end, what's the difference if a sheep is eaten by a human or a buzzard or a coyote?

You didn't save that sheep's life. You only postponed the inevitable. Because if you're not the one who eats it, then someone or something else will. You cannot stop it.

And it's likely going to hurt regardless, so saying shit like "anything to reduce at least a little bit of the pain in the world" is just pure naiveté. You haven't reduced the pain in the world even a little. And in fact, considering how a lot of animals don't even care if their food is all-the-way dead as they're eating them, you could even say that that animal might end up experiencing even more pain than if they'd been killed by a human.

And that isn't even taking into account sickness or accidents! How do you know that that animal's last moments won't be spent in complete misery or abject fear??

Because one of the things about humans is that, for the most part, we prefer our food dead-dead before we eat it. And we intentionally go out of our ways to make death as painless a transition as possible, even for the animals we're gonna eat.

If we're gonna keep it 100, ya'll. Humans can be some of the gentlest, most merciful killers on earth.

Hell, we have laws against animal cruelty!

And, the thing is, animals... don't. Period. In fact, most don't make it to old age.

So, in the end, your efforts were meaningless.

#humans are weird #vegans confuse me

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g3minimars · 2 months

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Could I please request a Kyle x reader fic where Kyle finds out his girlfriend is in the hospital after being in a car accident?

I’m sorry|Kyle Broflovski x fem!reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Genre - Angst/Fluff🥀🌸

Warnings: Attempted suicide, self hatred, angst, swearing, mentions of death. All characters are aged up. Please let me know if I missed anything for the warnings, or if there are any typos in the story. This story is based off of a previous story I made around two years ago on one of my other blogs, @59candelas. You can read the story here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~”I don’t care!” Yelled a voice across the room. “You’re the reason we can’t afford to go to my mother’s for the week. She’s sick and you don’t seem to give a shit considering all you do is just sit around in the house while I have to go make us money, I have to take care of the house.” The words he spoke made you want to hide in a hole and never come out. “At least you have a mom.” You spoke before leaving the room towards your car. “Yeah, run away like you always do.” He said again before you slammed the door behind you. You and Kyle never got in fights. At least, not fights like these. Sure, there would be times you two fought, but those were stupid fights, playful ones even.

I got in my car, thinking about what Kyle had said. Well, yelled I suppose. He wants to go to visit Shelia because she’s terribly sick right now. He said that all I do is sit around all the time, even though I make dinner every night, clean the house, and take care of our mini garden. Apparently he doesn’t seem to care about my mom, who’s dead. She died in a car accident last year, and I’m still recovering from it. We got in a fight, just like the fight me and Kyle had except on a different topic. The cops said that it was a suicide, and she had driven into a crosswalk sign.

I was driving to our local coffee shop, to get some coffee to calm my nerves. But, what if I just ended it like my mother did? What if the world would be better without me in it? What would Kyle think? He probably wouldn’t mind. Kyle, I’m sorry we’ve been getting into fights lately. But, you probably want me dead. I guess I should just end it. For our sake.

Sirens, yelling, swearing, Kyle. I drove into a crosswalk sign, just like my mother did. I couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t see anything. But, I could hear, and I heard Kyle, crying it sounded like. He was here, probably here to see me die. I don’t blame him, I’d want to see me die too. Except, these weren’t happy tears, these were the tears of someone who was sad, in pure despair, someone who felt of loss.

I was transported to the hospital, Kyle came too. He held my hand I think. I couldn’t feel it but one of the doctors said that he can’t hold my hand. When we arrived at the hospital, they put me in the uncomfortable hospital dresses or whatever they are and put me in a bed with oxygen tubes. I think I’m in a coma. At least I get to suffer for hopefully the rest of my life.

She was laying there, in a coma. The cops said that she tried to commit suicide, but she didn’t hit the sweet spot that lead to death. It’s my fault. I’m the reason. I should be in her place. I should be in pain, suffering, feeling like I’m in hell. I already feel that, after what I’ve done. Pain in my heart, suffering inside, and in hell knowing what I’ve done. I shouldn’t have yelled at her. I love her, and here she is, dying, on what’s probably her death bed. I should be in her place. I should be suffering. I should be dead.

“K-kyle?” she spoke. A soft touch applied to the one who spoke. Hand in hand, and eye to eye. “I want you to know that I didn’t mean anything I said earlier. I want you to know that I love you and you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. You’re the most hardworking, responsible, and beautiful person I have ever met. I love you. I’m sorry.”

A brief silence.

“I love you too Kyle.”

-g3minimars

#south park #south park x reader #fluff #kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski x y/n #my writing #angst #hospital #car accident #anon ask #g3minimars

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byghostface · 1 month

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Nika + family members headcanons

↑Some notes and my HCs about Nika & Her family's appearance I drew/wrote back in 2022

-Grandfather

Regret about his past.

Doted on both granddaughters and called them "sweetie /sweetheart".

With his wife, don't weird out and scared by Nika's obsession with death, and indulge her behavior (they think Nika is just curious and feisty).

Bedridden when Nika was around 7-8 years old, rarely interacted with her since then. Especially when he needs to be at the hospital to monitor his health often.

Over time Nika grew more distant from her grandfather, only having some vague memory of the moments they had spent together.

Use to patch up Nika's destroyed plushies and toys.

-Grandmother

Having natural dark Hair.

Doted on granddaughters and called them "sweetie /sweetheart" the same as her husband, and called Nika "My little victory", Mila "My dearest" (sometimes their mom called them that too)

Passed away when Nika was 7 years old (Mila around age 9-10).

Nika has good memories of her but it's becoming vague as she grew up.

Loves to gifted candies and homemade sweets to granddaughters.

Both girls got the dark hair atavistic inheritance from their grandmother, and Nika had inherited some of the facial features as well.

-Elder sister: Mila (hc age- 2~3 years older than Nika)

Think Nika is annoying and attention-seeking most of the time.

Disgust by Nika's obsession with death since they were little. Blame her little sister's obsession with death for the reason that attracts/brings bad luck into the house (their grandparents dying).

Often verbally belittle/disapprove of Nika and her behaviors.

Exclude Nika when she is playing with her friends (her friends don't like Nika too).

Give up her toys to Nika to make her less pestering but failed.

Looks more like her father and mother.

Worried about things and gets anxious easily like her mother.

Emotionally affected by things, incidents, and surroundings more easily than Nika (cried when grandpa died, "She was always a bit more on the… soft side. Naive"-Nika's description of Mila in Batman & Robin 2023 #7).

Getting frustrated with how their mother would change the house rules to fit Nika's needs.

Prideful and hard work in her school studies, likes to gain approval from her parents and seniors elders.

Try to be a responsible big sister (oftentimes depending on her mood and situation).

Like to sing and go to the choir with Nika. Because they both get praised a lot for being earnest and good singers.

Really upset about losing her grandparents.

Terrified of the idea of not living/being not existing. Like to know her importance in living.

(She may have connected with death like Nika but is actually repressed/terrified by it, and seeing Nika so obsessed with it makes Mila feel really repulsive thus taking it out on Nika, making death associated with her little sister more instead of herself.)

-Nika

Tried to share her interests with her sister but always got rejected (aside from music-related topics).

She is resilient about it (sharing her obsession with death to her sister) for a long period of her childhood.

Love to "kill" her plushies and toys, then learn to patch them up by herself after grandpa is not in the house to do it for her anymore.

Later on realized her sister's distaste towards her, and her parents' disagreements about her. She was becoming closed off and less responsive to her family, and taking more interest in drawing to distract herself.

Keeping herself busy with the things she likes (hobbies— death theme, drawing, singing) to avoid/suppress negative emotions in life.

Feeling the pressure the grandfather's hospital condition has put on the family, sometimes thinking he's better off dead (peacefully).

Despite her obsession with death, she doesn't like the idea of suicide. She may have some suicidal thoughts or fake imagined scenarios but never commits them, because that's not what she wants her life and death to be (passive suicidal ideation). These hidden passive thoughts change greatly after meeting Damian on Lazarus Island.

Looks more like her grandmother and her mother, and looks really similar to Mila when she was little.

-Father

Most of the day is at work, rarely at home.

Think Nika is nothing but a troubled kid, unlike his good-manner elder daughter.

Often at the hospital take care of his father, and let his wife take charge of the kids.

Impact by his mother's passing, and later his father's condition. His mood is not very stable.

The source of living income of the household. Manage all the finances in the house and inheritance of his parent's property (under a lot of financial stress).

-Mother

Housewife, spends a lot of time with her children.

Love to nurture her garden and teach the plants and flowers knowledge to Nika who is interested in making her little playground graveyard in the yard pretty.

Worried about Nika's obsession with death and scared for Nika as the obsession progresses as she grows up.

Setting the house rules for the girls, so it would be fair and easy to discipline them. But it's really difficult with Nika, because she is more "adventurous" compared to the elder daughter.

Struggling to get Mila and Nika to make peace/behave toward each other, and it gets worse as the two sisters grow older(her husband is not helping by favoring Mila more).

Need to do some part-time jobs in later years to support the family and father-in-law's hospital bills.

Nika + family members hcs．Nika + family (dynamic) hcs

#flatline #nika #dc comics #flatline dc #nika dc #nika and mila #mila #mila dc #nika's sister #nika's family #nika headcanon #nika hcs #robin 2021 #robin 2021* annual #have been working on these hcs for months #now with new information about mila these hcs feel more completed #can't wait for the next batman and robin issue

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teruel-a-witch · 1 year

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thinking about how danny spent very little time with steve before he (correctly) deduced that he suffered a lot of parental neglect ('you weren't hugged as a child, were you?'). of course, steve's knee-jerk response is to deny that because people who had an abnormal childhood don't realise it wasn't the norm because it's the only life they knew, only when they tell a 'funny' story that is met with a horrified look of someone who grew up in a well-adjusted family that they are confronted with the uncomfortable truth: that the perfect 'childhood' they lost after the trauma wasn't so perfect after all.

the fact that steve was only angry because of abandonment and not the cold bootcamp way he was raised shows he didn't know any better. even when he had a mother she wasn't the kissing-a-skinned-knee-better kind. it would still take years of therapy and gentle coaxing from danny for him to unpack all of that.

i can imagine many a time steve probably shared what he thought was an amusing 'anecdote' from his childhood only for danny to go all compassionate 'aw, babe' on him.

'what's the story behind this scar?'

'oh, it's kind of a funny one, i was playing outside by myself and heard pathetic whining nearby. turned out a stray dog fell into a construction pit. poor gal couldn't get out on her own so i climbed down to get her out, except my hand landed on a piece of rebar and... well. it was a kind of deep cut, but clean, i couldn't stitch it up by myself yet because i was seven so i put some antiseptic on it and waited for my mom to come home from work. it hurt a lot but i didn't cry because my mom always said 'big boys don't cry'. when she saw what happened she yelled at me and since it wasn't infected she said there's no need to go to the doctor, sure it would scar without stitching but the scar would remind me to be less clumsy and not to jump into pits willy-nilly. anyway, isn't it funny how clumsy i was when i was 7. why are you looking at me like that?'

it's honestly a wonder steve ended up with such a soft and big heart despite everything, because neglect could have made him cold, selfish, hard, insensitive to the feelings of others because no one cared about his.

instead, steve loves 'fixing broken toys' (literally and figuratively, ex. him gently gluing back the small cat figurine that danny broke) this 'child forgot lessons of love untaught' is surprisingly good at comforting people and being gentle.

there's a reason his big soft heart is what danny loves most about him. because he understands, given his background, how easily steve could have been different, could have perpetuated the cycle instead of breaking it.

truly, he has so much love to give. because no one wanted it from him, he never had anyone to give it to.

he was taught to shove all those soft feelings deep because they are only an obstacle in being a perfect soldier.

and then there's danny who says 'i'll take it, give it all to me, i want it, it doesn't make you weak, it makes you strong, that's why I love you, babe', and steve can finally pour all that love he's had pent up into someone, show his gooey centre without fear of being stabbed into it.

it is any wonder he decides he is gonna love danny till his dying day. tragically, since no one's taught him what love looks like he never realises danny loves him in return.

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twomiddlefingersforthehaters · 1 year

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死ぬ (shinu) - die

Anko had a murder-suicide move that Oro taught her, and she was going to use it to kill themselves together. What she saying to Orochimaru was " You and I are going to die here". If we look at What she said before arriving there was ;

Raw: ここで私が命に代えても仕止めなきゃ...

Romaji: koko de watashi ga inochi ni kaete mo tsukamatsu tomenakya....

Literal : I have to put an end to it, even if it's cost my life...

Raw: たとえそれがかなわなくとも・・・とにかく暗部が来るまで足止めだけでもしておく･･･

Romaji : tatoe sore ga kanawanakutomo ･･･tonikaku anbu ga kuru made ashidome dake demo shiteoku ･･･

Literal : Even if that doesn't work... Atleast, I'll slow you down until the Anbu comes...

Shinjū here is tagged as a business. It denotes not to oneself, but to the whole. She was risking her life to stop the destruction that Orochimaru could cause to Konoha. So it's Not only to oneself. But it is for Konoha.

自殺する (jisatsu suru) - to kill oneself; commit suicide

Shinjū has been classified into two major categories, johshi (mutually consented lovers' suicide) and oyako-shinjū (parent-child suicide), the latter of which is subclassified further such as boshi-shinjū (mother-child suicide), fushi-shinjū (father-child suicide), and ikka-shinjū (family suicide).

Unable to pay off debts family commit suicide. In the case of an entire family committing suicide, it is usually the father who takes the lead, probably because most family suicides are the result of the financial failure of the father, who is facing bankruptcy or heavy debt. Spouse may come in agree with this but children may not know their decisions. In some cases, the parent gets "scared" of suicide and becomes the sole survivor. The concept of an entire family dying together in response to some tragedy of their existence is captured by the term "ikka shinjū", literally as "one family"/ "center of the heart."

"Muri- shinjū" is when a family member, usually a mother or father, murders their child, children or other family member and then commits suicide. "muri-shinjū" is a better term as "muri" in this instance means by force/against one's will. While *ikka-shinjū" does mean the suicide of an entire family, what it implies is that they all chose to commit suicide. There are also various combinations of family relationships that may be involved in these so-called 'forced' suicides.

Boshi-shinjū in which the children, who are too young to decide on suicide themselves, are killed by their mothers.

Mother - child suicide : mother killing oneself and her children over martial or other problem [ it was oya-ko shinjū (joint parent-child suicide), a traditional Japanese form of suicide which is still an everyday occurrence in Japan]. However, a mother who commits joint suicide may justify her act by the fact that she would be considered very cruel if she left young children behind. The mother who commits suicide without taking her child with her is blamed as an oni no yo na hito ("demon- like" person).

In fushi-shinjū the fathers (who are usually older than the boshi- shinju mothers) kill their children (who are older than the victims of boshi-shinjū), and then commit suicide. The most common reasons for boshi-shinjū are psychiatric disorders and family conflicts, while those of fushi-shinjū are financial problems and physical illness or other problems.

There are more like these:

An elderly mother begins to become a burden (due to Alzheimer's) to her middle-aged son. He has to give up his job until the breaks down point comes. So the son decides to commit suicide by killing his mother, but the passer-by saves him and the son fails to commit suicide. Later, he committed suicide by jumping from the main bridge into the river. He left a note saying he wished to be cremated with the umbilical cord his mother had left. There is no comparably euphemistic or honorific term for children taking the lives of their parents.

the husband killing the adulterous wife, rather than the wife committing suicide with her lover. Considering this, it seems that any unnatural death (murder or suicide) that was induced by extra-marital love was considered "shinjū."

Poverty is the main reason for most of them but it is not the only reason behind everything. There may be unemployment, debts, abusive relationships etc.. They find that their situation is irretrievable/unbearable and finally decides to give up their lives through murder and suicide. More cases in real life lead to 無理心中(forced suicide), but when they decide that it is better to give up life and die together, it is not always with consent.

Let's move on to Lover's suicide

@sneezemonster15 & @maoam made a post about Chikamatsu Monzaemon and how Kishimoto is a fan of the guy and his bunraku/kabuki plays.

心中 (Shinjū) - double suicide

Although it is not clear when exactly the first case of double-suicide occurred, the practice of dying together as shinjū started appearing in haikai poetry in the Enpō era (late 1670s); [“Shinjū nara ware o izanae gokuraku e 心中なら我をいざなへ極楽へ” (“If this is shinjū, please take me to heaven”) by Sogen 素玄 (1676)], and Kabuki nenpyō claims that the first shinjū incident and shinjū kabuki plays appeared in Tenna 3 (1683) [According to Kabuki nenpyō, “the beginning of shinjū as an art form (shinjū-gei)” occurred in Tenna 3 (1683) at Arashi Sanzaemon-za, Araki Yojibee-za, and Yamatoya Jinbee-za theaters. It is said to be a dramatization of one of the first love suicide incidents in the Edo period, in which a prostitute and a blind performer died together]. Jōruri followed the example of kabuki, with Chikamatsu Monzaemon’s Sonezaki shinjū, first performed in 1703, as the first successful example of a love suicide jōruri play (although there were several earlier love suicide jōruri plays that did not achieve popularity). Chikamatsu Monzaemon’s first sewamono, Sonezaki shinjū (1703), was first performed in Takemoto-za theater in Osaka. The story was originally taken from a real incident that is also recorded in Shinjū ōkagami. Sonezaki shinjū did not appear as a sudden mutation in 1703, but rather as a fruit that developed from earlier theatrical tropes and conventions. In fact, the dramatization of contemporary sensational incidents such as double suicides was already common in kabuki in Osaka prior to the birth of sewamono jōruri, from as early as 1683, which also contributed to the establishment of the genre of sewamono in jōruri puppet plays. The popular interest in love suicides as sensational news was widespread in the late seventeenth century. The image of the prostitutes who participated in love suicides, as well as the image of love suicide itself, were negative in contemporary ukiyozōshi fiction, but they were depicted more sympathetically in kabuki plays, especially domestic plays called sewamono.

Shinjū derived from the practices among courtesans and prostitutes in the pleasure quarters (The word was also used in homosexual relationships. It was quite popular among men to hurt themselves in order to show their love to their homosexual partners). It also a belief in reincarnation perhaps encourages the lovers to abandon this life and to hope for a final union in the next life. However, shinjū’s original meaning was not “love suicide.” The term literally means “inside one’s heart,” and when read shinchū, the word dates as far back as the Nara period, meaning “one’s heart”. The term “shinjū” did not necessarily mean “love suicide” in the early Edo period, even in pleasure quarters; it was often used as shinjū-date, or “proving one’s heart.” Courtesans and prostitutes who were obliged to take multiple customers sought to prove their dedication to their lovers. Shikidō ōkagami introduces six different kinds of shinjū practiced by the prostitutes and courtesans in the pleasure quarters: pulling out one’s nails, writing oaths (sometimes using blood), cutting one’s hair, getting a tattoo relating to one’s lover, chopping off one’s finger, and ultimately, stabbing oneself (non-fatally).

The use of “shinjū” as “love suicide” was popularized through popular theater and fiction that dramatized actual cases of love suicide beginning in the Genroku period (1688-1704). Jōruri plays the most significant role in spreading the idealized image of love suicide. The majority of early sewamono jōruri up through the early eighteenth century take the theme of shinjū, specifically love suicide in which a young couple, often a townsman and a low-ranked prostitute, die together. Chikamatsu Monzaemon wrote twenty-four sewamono domestic plays, eleven of which are about love suicide. Chikamatsu’s eleven love suicide plays can further be divided into roughly four categories according to the class of the heroine and the couple’s marital status. Four are about a low-ranked prostitute and a single townsman; two are about a low-ranked prostitute and a married townsman; two are about a townswoman and a townsman; three are about a married couple, but all of them belong to the bottom class of the society, having some sort of financial problems, and lacking agency over their own lives.

For many Japanese, "sharing death appears to be the culmination of togetherness. ' Every human being is born into and leaves this life by himself. Even those in the most intimate relationships have to part with each other when one of them dies. Therefore, sharing death with someone can be the ultimate expression of oneness signifying the fusion of the two distinct self-boundaries.

The influence of devoted male love on depictions of male-female devoted lovers in Edo literature is most clearly seen in double-suicide (shinjū) stories and plays, in which "devoted love" was linked with death. Shinjū was a means of giving visible, physical manifestation in the body to the inner secrets of the heart. It also a gesture of devotion, an outward display of "what was in the heart ", involving simple acts of self-wounding by a man or a youth to show the sincerity of their feelings, these included writing vows in blood, piercing the flesh on the arms or thighs, cutting the skin, and in extreme cases amputation of a finger.

During the rule of the Tokugawa bakufu, male-male homosexual relations were most commonly referred to by two main terms: Nanshoku and Shudō. Nanshoku appeared as the subject of innumerous popular books, as well as songs, poems, and woodblock prints, and was much more intrinsically connected with Tokugawa popular culture than with any Buddhist philosophics. The word Shudō placed the love of male youths in the same frame as other "ways" or pursuits, such as chadō ("way of tea" or Japanese tea ceremony), kadō ("way of flowers" or Japanese flower arranging), and budō ("way of martial arts" or Japanese traditional martial arts training). Homosexual interactions between men was implied in poetry and stories during the Heian Period (794-1185). Evidence of homosexual relationships as early as the Heian period appear in diaries of notable court figures, such as Fujiwara Yorinaga (1120-1156), who detailed sexual encounters with a range of male partners. Despite its lack of any direct mention of male-male relationships. However, comparatively few substantial or explicit texts of male-male sexual relationships were produced by the Heian court. Female-female homosexuality did not share the same cultural acceptability that male-male homosexual relations enjoyed during the Tokugawa period, and written depictions of female-female sexual relations from seventeenth century Japan are few. Homoerotica especially flourished in the Edo period through a type of erotic art, called shunga. Shunga, meaning “spring picture”, was a type of ukiyo-e, or “art of the floating world”, and was created with the usage of woodblocks and stamping methods. During this period, the ruling Tokugawa Shogunate was known to have established strict censorship laws on “immoral” content, yet shunga was never harshly criticized by the government.

Gay love letters are often referred to in Japanese literature, notably in the collection of forty stories in The Great Mirror of Male Love (Nanshoku &okagami) (1687) written by Ihara Saikaku (1642-93) describing (and advocating) love between adult men and youths. In kabuki theatre, the actors (handsome young men dressed as boy or women) often received hundreds of love letters from the men who watched him perform. In addition to love letters, men would often prove their love for one another by slashing their arms or cutting their thighs or, quite common, slicing off the tip of their thumb and tossing it on the stage as if it were a bouquet of flowers.

Early Edo era tattoos, some featuring designs that would be completed only when lovers' hands were joined, also came and went. It called as Irebokuro, tattooed moles. When lovers clasped hands the moles on each person would line up exactly and thus were unique. Tattooed moles were all self-applied (or the partner would do it.) This particular place was chosen because when lovers would hold hands they would be touching the dots. In, Kōshoku ichidai otoko (1682; The Life of an Amorous Man) written by Ihara Saikaku. It gives reference to tattooing of a homosexual relationship between two men. This different variant of a Shinjū is the tattooing of the characters of the lover's name.

#sns #narusasu #sasunaru #masashi kishimoto #Naruto manga #my stuff #double suicide

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