#i guess this really could take place in any era but like take it is

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you’ve been one of sukuna’s many concubines for quite a while now. yet, you still cannot get rid of the jealousy in your system whenever he interacts with the other women in his harem.

wc. idk around 1 to 2k

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. angst (hurt to comfort), fluff, suggestive at the end. heian era. you call sukuna ‘my lord’. reader gets called ‘brat, little girl’. size difference. no part2, don’t ask i beg. not beta read.

“get back here, brat,” sukuna raises his voice as he follows you. he isn’t one to care about others’ emotional outbursts, yet here he is, chasing you after you’ve poured out your heart to him.

you don’t know why you’re this upset. you do know, however, that it’s childish of you to walk away mid dinner. you should’ve just stayed seated and refuse to let the thoughts consume you.

now you’re speed walking down the hallways of the estate—your legs carrying you as fast as they can without actually making a run for it. your mind keeps replaying the ‘unsettling’ scene that caused you to flee.

you remember it vividly. the sound of sukuna’s low, amused chuckle. how intrigued it was because of something another concubine told him—how he stopped chewing to say something back to her. which he rarely does.

hell, you’ve never seen him laugh around his other concubines.

“i do not wish to talk to you right now, my lord,” you reply, voice raised so the distance wouldn’t make it a hassle for the king of curses to hear you. you know that feisty attitude of yours entertains sukuna to no end.

he raises an eyebrow once he’s heard your voice; how it’s dripping with envy and hurt. you’ve never reacted like that before—at least not in his presence. it made him want to figure out why and how.

though, he can easily guess the reasoning behind your sudden defiance.

“oh, that so?” sukuna hums. he’s lenient with you this time around. he could catch up to you in under a split second, but he decides to give you that sense of accomplishment first before completely destroying it. he walks after you slowly, your fast steps being the same tempo as his slow pace.

you don’t answer. you’re stubborn. you have no right to feel jealous. you are a fairly new concubine—only a couple months ago did you join sukuna’s harem. yet, the time spent with him was precious.

he treats you differently. everyone notices that. everyone tells you the same. you know he does by the way he lets you off the hook with most stuff you say and do.

you don’t know what you did to gain his favouritsm, but it’s addicting. his attention is addictive. real addictive.

you had sworn not to develop any unneccessary feelings for that ruthless sorcerer. but, with the way sukuna treated you so gently behind closed doors, it was impossible not to.

you eventually reach the doors to your chambers. you slide them open and wish to close them behind you, only for a big hand to halt those movements. you freeze in place and refuse to look up at the owner of that said hand.

“look up,” sukuna demands. his voice causes goosebumps to appear on your arms, but you still don't budge. he clicks his tongue. that’s your first warning. two more and your punishment will be carried out, “we can do this the hard way too if you want.”

you turn your head, your fingers curling around the material of your kimono. you really should not feel this way about a little interaction between sukuna and his other concubine. that is none of your concern. what he does with those other women is none of your concern.

and yet. . .

“i don't want to,” you retort. sukuna walks into your room with a sigh. each step he takes forwards, you take backwards. your back finally bumps against the wall next to your bed.

sukuna towers over you, his tall and big frame making you feel vulnerable. especially with the way those red eyes of his are staring down at you. he crosses all four of his arms before speaking.

“tell me what’s running through that head of yours,” sukuna inquires sternly. he isn’t playing around anymore, you can tell. you glance the other way—knowing that he will laugh at you the moment you tell him why you’re upset.

you have a feeling he knows the reason behind your tantrum anyway.

“it’s nothing of importance, my lord,” you shake your head and relax your tense shoulders to make you seem less upset. your words have some truth in them—you don’t think your feelings of envy hold any value to him.

sukuna sighs again. he’s trying his best not to be annoyed at you. you’re his favorite and he wishes not to sadden you any further. he steps forwards, one hand moving to cup the side of your face.

his rough fingers play with a string of your hair, “i’m not stupid, little girl. i don’t like it when my woman is in distress.”

your heart skips a beat. this is what confuses you—how he can go from stern to gentle and vice versa. it’s surprisingly unexpected, which makes you long for more. even if his behaviour is confusing.

you look up at sukuna. your eyes meet for the first time in a good couple minutes. the corner of sukuna’s lips curls up into a satisfied smirk. that’s one step closer to getting you to open up.

“now,” the king of curses lowers his head to your eye level, the proximity all the more nerve wracking. he holds your jaw super tightly out of the blue. it makes you whimper.

“spit it out.”

there it is. the duality of the man strikes once more. you swallow the spit that’s been building up in your mouth. you bite your bottom lip lightly, trying to gather and form the right words to explain yourself.

sukuna wouldn’t understand. he’s a cold-hearted man who doesn’t care about such ‘trivial’ matters. he’ll just call you stupid, pathetic or whatever other derogatory term.

you stop your thoughts for a moment.

“it’s really just a stupid thing,” you mutter. your fingers curl around sukuna’s wrist—the one hand he’s using to firmly hold your jaw. you take a deep breath in, “i did not like it when you, errr. . . when that woman talked to you at the dinner table.”

your voice is clearly dripping with jealousy. pure, pure jealousy. and for what? because he talked to his other concubine. you feel stupid. you thought you discarded your personal feelings for the sorcerer before you the moment you turned into one of his many women.

“that woman?” sukuna tilts his head, feigning ignorance. that little grin on his face tells you enough. he’s playing with you like some form of entertainment. well, technically you are.

he wants you to be specific. he’s forcing you to be by acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.

in all honesty, sukuna’s already forgotten what that woman had said to him. it wasn’t and still isn’t worth remembering. all he can recall is your adorable facial expression when you saw him interact like that with his other concubine.

that little frown on your face was priceless. it makes him want to keep teasing you.

“you know who i am talking about, my lord,” you huff, trying to look away, but get stopped by sukuna readjusting his grip on your jaw. he firmly yet gently taps your cheek once and you know what it means.

“attitude,” sukuna warns with a quick hiss. he can let you say whatever you want to him, but you also have some limits regarding which tone you use with him. you apologise quietly under your breath.

the king of curses nods in satisfaction before releasing the grip on your jaw. his large hand trails down to your neck, thumb rubbing up and down your throat, “so, my little girl is mad at me because i talked to another concubine of mine, huh?”

you nod mindlessly. sukuna can easily get you to comply with him—to obey his every word, simply with his actions. the terms of endearment he uses are the cherry on top. they slip off his tongue so easily with you.

“tsk tsk,” sukuna shakes his head. his hand is now on the back of your head, fingers tangled into your hair. he’s staring down at you with a smug expression. he knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger, “how childish of you.”

you knew that would be one of the things he’d say to you. what you didn’t expect is for him to go for a kiss right after. his lips land on yours firmly, and to no surprise, you instantly return the gesture.

your arms wrap around his neck—your chest pressing against his. sukuna wastes no time in picking you up and letting your legs encircle his waist. he’s not pulling away for air to breathe and you don’t either.

“you’re going to listen to me, yeah?” sukuna murmurs between passionate kisses. he’s holding onto you tightly with two arms, his free hands roaming over your body whilst he pins you against the wall.

when you whimper out a weak, high-pitched ‘yes, my lord’, he smirks against your mouth before turning to kiss your neck. he slightly bites the skin to make sure you’re paying attention to him.

“i don’t remember what that woman said,” sukuna continues, nearly out of breath because of the kisses he’s leaving all over you. he easily grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head on the wall, “i was too busy lookin’ at a much prettier concubine of mine.”

he pulls back a little so he can look you in the eyes. you’re panting and embarrassed by what he just said. one of his hands finds your face again, tracing the shape of your mouth.

“my favourite,” sukuna whispers whilst licking his lips. you can see it in his eyes: he’s silently planning out how he’s going to remind you of your place. your place as his favorite concubine.

he dips his head back down, aiming for the valley between your breasts. he closes his eyes before sucking on the surrounding flesh;

“guess i’ll be nice for once ‘nd show you just what it means to be my favorite so that you’ll never dare forget it again.”

#sttoru writes. #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #jjk #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n

[joelsgreys]

flutter

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader

snapshots masterlist

summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.

“Shit.”

You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?

Over the last few months, there’d been changes.

Some subtle and some not so subtle.

“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”

She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.

“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”

During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.

“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”

You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.

One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.

Not until now.

“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”

“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”

“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”

Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.

It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.

“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.

Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.

After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.

He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.

You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.

Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”

“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”

One stern glare from her had shut you right up.

“Fine.”

Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.

You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.

With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.

“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”

“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”

“You’re bigger!”

With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”

She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.

“You look different. I mean, you look great—”

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up and eat.”

“Deal.”

She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner. 

“You get your fractions homework done?”

“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”

Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”

“Sure.”

As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.

“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.

“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”

“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.

Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.

She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”

Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”

“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”

“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”

“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”

Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.

Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.

And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.

In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.

You bite back a small sigh.

By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.

“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”

“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”

You hear a chair scrape against the tile.

“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”

“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.

Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.

He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair. 

The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.

Uncomfortable.

Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.

“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”

“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?” 

He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”

You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”

Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.

“Mhm,” is all he says.

Your smile falters.

It’s the middle of August.

The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.

“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”

He’s met with silence.

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”

Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”

“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”

Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.

“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”

Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”

“Huh?”

“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”

Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”

“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”

“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten. 

“What are you afraid of?”

Joel almost laughs.

He doesn’t know where to start.

He’s afraid of everything.

“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”

“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”

“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”

“Joel—”

“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”

Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”

“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.

“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”

He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”

“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home. 

“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.

“What does it fucking look like, man?”

“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”

Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.

“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”

Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.

He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.

He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.

He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.

Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.

Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.

He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.

The man you both needed.

Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?

He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.

“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”

“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.

Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Until the minutes turn into hours.

Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains. 

Until he finally feels that little flutter again.

He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.

He’d just felt the baby’s movement.

There’s a sudden shift.

Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.

His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.

Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.

With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.

Maybe his brother’s right.

Maybe he will be just fine.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

#tw pregnancy #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x pregnant reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller drabble #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #fic: snapshots

[d1xonss]

Could you do a Daryl x reader where at first he doesn’t like her, and she tries to get to know why hes so mean to her? Maybe he yells at her and then some comfort after?

Pretty When I Cry

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 1

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Angst/Fluff

✧ Word Count : 4k

AN ~ This is a very cute idea. I've been wanting to write something for season 1 Daryl because he's just such a cutie pie, but I didn't really have any good ideas. Though I think if he were to ever snap and "be mean" it would surely be in the beginning; his sassy era lol. But thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!

In an instant it seemed like, all of humanity was completely flipped upside down. You were on your way to work when the chaos all erupted, dead people coming back to life and the military taking matters into their own hands. Bombing places left and right even if that meant killing the ones who weren’t infected. The entire thing shook you more than you were ever willing to admit, after all, you were more fragile, soft and clearly not built for whatever the world was suddenly turning into.

But to your surprise, you made it out alive. Traumatized, sure, but alive.

You seemed to count your blessings every single day since then, thankful for every little thing that had happened to you since. Luck seemed to shine down upon you as you weren’t alone for long, finding a small group camped out in the high mountains merely days after everything went down. They all welcomed you with open arms, clearly taking a liking to your kindness and wanting as many people to come together as they could get. After all, it’s all that was left of the world. People you could rely on.

You grew to love the tight knit group, forming friendships with people you never would’ve guessed you’d meet in a million years. You also tried to keep yourself busy, wanting to be as useful as possible and provide what you could for the others. Not because you felt obligated to, but because you simply wanted to. Things like cooking, collecting berries and mushrooms, doing laundry, anything you could find to help contribute. 

Something you seemed to be ashamed of however, was that you couldn’t really do any of the “heavy lifting.” You had never fired a gun in your life, that alone narrowed down the list. Not being able to stay on watch, not being able to hunt, and…not being able to take care of the dead things that sometimes wandered all the way up here. At first, the thought of you being weaker than the others never even crossed your mind. It was only brought to your attention when a certain man began to poke fun at you because of how small he saw you.

Merle Dixon was a grade A asshole to put it bluntly. Ever since he and his brother showed up to be a part of the group later on, he had made it his mission to annoy and harass you whenever he saw the opportunity. You couldn’t figure out why you were his main target, his main source of entertainment, but you could only guess it was because he always got under your skin in a way he was able to see. That, and he tended to make you cry. He even gave you a nickname because of it after a while, one that you absolutely hated. And he knew it too.

Although Merle was someone you couldn’t stand, his brother Daryl however was…different. He could still be snappy and hot headed just like the other one you supposed, but he had never acted that way towards you surprisingly. His main target was Shane, and honestly, who could blame him? There were many times where the man would take things too far and Daryl would put him in his place, unaware of the watchful wide eyes that watched the interaction. He never seemed to care, wanting to tell everyone how it was without a single ounce of regret. You sort of envied him for that small little thing.

You had never stood up to anyone in your life, always too scared of the outcome and you hated being yelled at more than anything in the world. So it was safe to say you avoided confrontation at all costs. Clearly, as you hadn’t found the strength to stand up to Merle since he got here. But though neither of the brothers particularly cared for you, you were still kind to them just like you were to everyone else. You didn’t miss how the others in the group would almost look down on them in a way you couldn’t understand, so you wanted to be the one who provided just that little bit of kindness. It really went a long way, or at least that’s what you believed.

Though you had to admit, it was a little difficult sometimes. There were moments where you just wanted to yell in frustration, curse at Merle for how he always treated you and how Daryl typically sat there and did nothing. But you always managed to cool off, reminding yourself that they most likely acted like this because of something from their past. Something they couldn’t control. Who were you to treat them differently because of that? It was hard to stay strong at times, but in the end, you always seemed to send them a small smile.

You currently busied yourself on just the outskirts of the camp past the trees, finding and picking a few berries to bring back seeing as the group was running a bit low. And every bit of food counted these days. Your gaze stayed down as you chose the ripest ones, placing them in the little woven basket you brought to gather as many as you could for the time being. Though upon your hunt for different kinds of plant based things you could eat, your eyes happened to catch a mere glimpse of something colorful a few feet away.

To your surprise, it was a small patch of wildflowers growing together, each a different beautiful color and only a reminder to you that the world wasn’t completely dead. There were still many beautiful aspects along the way, even though a bit of hope may be lost, it was little things like this that brought a smile to your face. So you decided to wrap it up, bring back the things you’d collected along with picking one of the small flowers, putting it behind your ear for now to take back and put in your tent with the rest of your things. You had the idea of pressing it into one of the pages of a journal you kept.

You then found yourself slowly trailing back towards the site, almost dreadfully as you could predict what was coming next. You could practically hear it in the back of your mind like it was burned into your memory. Merle’s phantom voice echoed in your mind, knowing he would most likely call out to you the moment he noticed your presence reenter the space. But again, you reminded yourself to just try and be kind. It was the one thing you were best at.

Slowly but surely you made it past the treeline, and only about eight seconds passed before you heard a loud wolf whistle from your left along with the same booming laugh. Like he amused himself or something.

“There she is!” he called from the space in his and Daryl’s separate camp away from the others, “It’s weeping willow.” he smiled widely in hopes to get a reaction out of you.

You sighed as you sent him a small smile, “Still not my name Merle.” you reminded as you just tried to walk past him.

But it wasn’t that easy. It was never that easy. He easily stepped in front of you to block your path, the smirk still plastered on his face. “Close enough.” he waved off, “Besides, I wanna see what you so kindly brought back for me.” he said before quickly snatching your basket out of your hands.

Your eyes slightly widened as you tried to grab it back, but he pulled it away faster. “Merle.” you huffed as you attempted to reach for it again, but he only moved it away quicker. Every move you made, he would make as well, purposefully keeping it from you as he started to walk backwards for you to follow.

Like dangling a damn carrot in front of your face.

Your frustration grew as you continued to follow and reach for it as he laughed, watching your attempts and fails. You could feel your cheeks beginning to heat up in embarrassment now, sensing Daryl’s eyes watching the interaction as he made a few bolts by the small fire they had set up. He sat there still, doing nothing as per usual as he watched the interaction unfold right in front of him.

“Merle, please. It’s for the group.” you tried as you reached for it again.

But he pulled it out of your reach as you stood face to face, “Well, I’m a part of that group ain’t I? I think I deserve this just as much as the next bastard. Unless of course you have a different opinion bout that…” he trailed off as his smirk grew.

You sighed, “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. It’s for everyone.” you clarified kindly.

The man only laughed at you, and you quickly began to feel the familiar lump forming in your throat, trying desperately to swallow it down and not let your emotions escape. It was obvious you were sensitive, but also having to fight the same fight over and over again, it got old quicker than you would admit. You could hardly stand these interactions anymore without at least tearing up a little at his teasing and taunting.

Finally after having enough, you reached out quickly and managed to snatch the basket back from him in one quick motion, placing it on your arm as your brows furrowed a little in frustration. Merle’s eyes widened a bit at the fast unexpected action, before he started smirking all over again once he caught the expression on your face.

“Oooh look at that. I almost got ya to snap.” he poked as he swayed a little clumsily on his feet, most likely a little drunk or high would be your best guess.

Sighing to yourself again to calm down, you shook your head as you knew of his only goal, “I’m not snapping.” you stated calmly.

Though he clearly didn’t believe you, wanting to push you even more. His eyes traveled away from your eyes as he grinned wickedly, pointing to your ear. “What’s this lil thing?” he asked. Your eyes widened a little, but before you could even react, he quickly snatched it away all while pulling your hair a little in the process. 

Your hand reached again, “Merle, come on, please.” you spoke desperately as you moved to keep up with him, before your frame accidentally stepped a little too far to the left.

In a fit of embarrassment and clumsiness, your foot accidentally knocked over a bucket that was sitting a little too close to the fire. The only problem was, Daryl’s freshly made bolts were sitting in there, now being engulfed in the flames. Your eyes widened in horror as you quickly scrambled back, watching Daryl instantly stand to his feet in an attempt to save what wasn’t ruined. But it was too late.

“Son of a bitch!” he cursed loudly as he bent down to pick up the bucket.

One of your hands came up to your mouth as you couldn’t believe what you had just done, freezing in place as you now didn’t know what to do. You knew you were in deep shit already, but when Merle suddenly paused just as you did, you knew you were royally fucked as the two of you just watched Daryl stare down at the fire motionlessly.

Eventually you found your voice, stepping forward a little to reach out to him, “Oh my God, Daryl I’m so sorry-”

But your words clearly didn’t mean a thing. He slapped your hand harshly away from him as his head snapped up to look at you, a fire of his own growing in his eyes. “What the hell is wrong with ya?!” he screamed.

You instantly flinched back at his sharp tone, the lump once again forming in your throat as you desperately tried to keep yourself together, “It was an accident-”

“Do ya even know how long it took me ta make those?” he asked angrily, not even bothering to wait for an answer. “Nah…course ya don’t. Cause you don’t do anything around here! Always just sittin in yer own little fairytale, smilin without a goddamn care in the world, when in reality you just fuckin ruin everything!”

His words cut through you like a knife. But not one that was sharp. One that was dull, just sawing back and forth relentlessly and hurting you even more than you could’ve ever imagined. Your eyes quickly filled with tears, not even knowing what to say as he was clearly about to blow up even more with how angry he grew. 

He scoffed once he saw how speechless you became, “Just get the hell outta here.” he spat harshly as he got up closer to your face, aggressively pointing off into the trees.

Tears began to pour down your cheeks at the last of his words, not even wasting another second as you dropped the basket from your arms before taking off in the other direction in a flash. Your chest heaved as you moved quickly through the trees, not being able to get alone fast enough so you could finally let everything out. You almost couldn’t believe the things that just happened, how everything got so messed up after you swore you were making progress with the two of them. But you weren’t. And perhaps you never would, that being something you would just have to accept.

Though finally after feeling like you walked quickly for miles, you came to the clearing of the large quarry, slumping down near the water before you began to sob all by yourself. You let everything out, every built up emotion poured out of you like a rush of water. You could’ve sworn you cried so much that you could fill a quarry of your own, knowing that those emotions were really the only thing you were good at. Crying could be an olympic sport, and you would win first everytime given the chance. 

But that thought only got you thinking more, making you stew over Daryl’s words. Maybe he was right. Anyone could say that it was the heat of the moment, his anger, insults just spilling out of his mouth that were simply not true. But in a way, you knew how true they were. You had to admit that you did feel useless as you hugged your knees to your chest, covering your face as you sobbed even more. You didn’t have useful skills like some of the others, not being able to prove yourself as you truly were weak when it came to a world like this. All you ever wanted to do was be kind, provide for the people you cared about most. But your outlook got ruined in an instant, quickly replaced with a new one that you would surely think about forever.

It was funny, you thought. You once heard Merle’s faint voice playing in your mind repeatedly, but now…you only heard Daryl’s. His insults, his harshness, it was something you never would’ve guessed or expected from him. But now you knew that you had just ruined everything, when all you wanted was to help.

You didn’t know how much time you spent alone, crying off and on to yourself the more you allowed your mind to run, but you could only assume it was a fairly long time. The sun was beginning to set in the sky, the little bit of light that was left shone over the water in front of you, making it sparkle as your tears continued to blur the scenery. You sniffled as you wiped your cheeks over and over again, wanting to pull yourself together enough to be able to show your face again back at camp. But the embarrassment was still weighing heavily, almost a crushing pressure.

But then all your attention was pulled to a shuffling noise coming from behind you, causing you to whip your head around in a panic to see where it came from. Though the sight was more surprising than you could’ve ever prepared yourself for. Daryl slowly emerged from the trees with a hesitant look on his face, and your eyes widened as you quickly turned your head back in the opposite direction. You didn’t want to look at him. You couldn’t even bring yourself to understand why he had come out here. He had already done enough, he made his point crystal clear. You were just silently hoping he didn’t come out here to yell at you again.

Daryl on the other hand felt an immense amount of guilt. His chest tightened a little as he caught barely a glimpse of your red, puffy eyes and your tear stained cheeks, knowing he was the cause of it. He couldn’t describe how it made him feel, but all he knew was he was wishing he could take it all back if it meant not having to see you cry. His brother already caused you to break down enough, he didn’t want to be the cause of that too. And yet, he was.

The man slowly walked up to where you sat near the blue water, the rocks crunching beneath his boots louder and louder as he approached. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you just prayed he would go away, not wanting to interact with him after everything. But Daryl was stubborn, and he didn’t want you out here all night just because you were nervous to come back.

“Dinner’s almost ready.” he said a bit awkwardly, stopping just a few feet away from you. You heard him loud and clear, but you said nothing, not really in the mood to eat. Facing the group after they surely heard the scene that went down, it all sounded like a nightmare.

Daryl sighed heavily as you didn’t respond, you didn’t even look in his direction. Acting as if he wasn’t here at all. “Hey.” he called.

“...Why do you hate me?” you whispered, still not facing him as you spoke.

He almost questioned what you had said, but then it seemed to hit him all at once just how badly he had fucked up with all this. The one girl that showed him a kindness he had never seen, now thought he wanted nothing to do with her from the projected words he spat at her.

He let out a soft breath as he closed his eyes momentarily, stepping up a little closer, “I- I don’t…I don’t hate you.” he said quietly.

You didn’t react, so he managed to push himself a little further than what he was comfortable with. He moved to slowly sit down beside you, keeping some distance, yet he wanted you to know he was there. That he meant it. “I don’t hate you.” he said again.

“You act like it.” you were quick to say as you turned your head to look him in the eye, “I…I don’t even know what I did…” you said, your voice quiet and broken.

The man stared at you for a long moment, before slowly shaking his head, “Ya didn’t do nothin…it’s…it’s hard to explain. But I guess I never really understood…why yer so nice. Thought maybe ya just wanted somethin from me…I dunno.”

You shook your head a little in disbelief, “I’m nice because I care…that’s it.” you assured as you didn’t want him to think otherwise. But you supposed hearing his reasoning out loud made a little more sense, seeing as how you truly were the only one nice enough to show your kindness to the brothers. He was skeptical because no one had done that for them before, the thought nearly broke your heart.

A long moment of silence passed between the two of you, before you were the one to break it, “Listen…I’m so sorry about what happened. I didn’t mean to ruin what you worked so hard on, it was an accident.”

Though Daryl quickly shook his head, “Nah, don’t be. If anythin, I should be apologizin for what I said. I…I didn’t mean none of it…”

You stared at him with a soft expression, “But you were right…everything you said-”

“Everything I said was bullshit.” he said bluntly, looking at you with a seriousness in his eyes, “I say a lotta stupid shit I don’t mean when m’ angry, and this ain’t no different, ya hear me?”

“But it’s true.” you argued gently before looking back out into the water, “I don’t know how to help out…how to survive in a world like this. I always try to do what I can, but it’s never enough.”

Daryl paused as he saw the sadness behind your eyes, a sudden feeling overtaking him as he wanted to say or do something that would get you to smile again. “Hey, that ain’t true. Ya go out and scavenge, ya help cook the food that’s brought back…ya even helped stitch Glenn up when the dumbass hurt himself.”

His words caused a small laugh to escape your lips as you looked back over to him, “Well I knew he would somehow mess it up even more if he did it himself…I didn’t have a choice with that one.”

“Nah…ya did.” he said seriously, “Ya always have a choice, and I see ya puttin others before yerself all the time. That’s somethin ya should give yerself credit for.”

Your eyes softened the longer you looked at him, a small smile forming on your face just seeing how much he cared. Even if he wasn’t willing to admit it out loud just yet. “Thank you.” you said quietly.

Daryl felt his face grow a little hot as he ducked his head, clearing his throat a little awkwardly, “Yeah, no problem…” he muttered before it looked like he suddenly remembered something. “Oh, and uh…I brought ya this.” he said before revealing the hand that sat behind his back.

You looked down to see it was the same small flower that Merle took from you, sitting in the palm of his hand as he held it out to you. Your eyes widened a little as your small fingers delicately took it from his grasp. “You got it back?” 

“Uh, no that one was all smushed by the end of…everythin. So I went and got ya a new one…hope that’s okay.” he explained a bit quietly.

Your smile grew as your eyes lit up at the simple kind gesture, one you would have never expected from him. “It’s perfectly okay…thank you.” you said sincerely, raising it up to place it behind your ear.

He nodded a bit awkwardly as he watched you for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip. “Alright, well come on.” he muttered as he stood back up to his feet, “Best be gettin back.” he spoke, hesitantly extending a hand out to help you up.

His actions surprised you a bit, but that didn’t stop you from taking his hand, letting him help you stand before the two of you slowly headed back through the woods. You half expected complete silence as you walked side by side with him, but he managed to keep a conversation with you as if he suddenly enjoyed your company. Though maybe he always did, he was just cautious as he didn’t always trust people as easily as you did. But you were growing more hopeful as he slowly came around, finding you had to be patient to see how much of a gentle person he really was.

From that day on, you and Daryl had slowly gotten more comfortable with each other. You wouldn’t really call it a friendship per se, but it was something the two of you very clearly cherished. But that wasn’t the only thing that seemed to change.

Merle’s attitude toward you seemed to have completely flipped from what you had grown accustomed to. He rarely ever spoke to you again after that day, and if he did it was always something short and simple, not an insult in sight. Though you were a little surprised, a part of you had a feeling who changed his mind about you.

~ Thanks for reading!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x female reader #daryl twd #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus x reader

[faintedlcve]

Hi! Could I please request a FIC abt Mattheo or Theodore (I’m in love with them both) and the reader always picks her hangnails (to fidget bc she is on the spectrum and has adhd) and they get her to stop by alway holding her hands and she goes to his quidditch game? (I love your fics sm)

Good luck charm

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader

Warnings: like none? do tell if I missed any xx

Summary: (just like read the request I cba)

A/n: thanks for the request and thank you SO much for the compliment💞! Sorry for the wait xx I wrote it about mattheo because I'm in my mattheo era (plus I feel like theo wouldn't be the sporty type) but I will write a Theodore version as well if you're okay with waiting xx I also happen to have ADHD lol so I just related the story to myself. English isn't my first language so there might be mistakes xx not proof read. I don't love it but I don't hate it either xx hope you like it x

reblogs are appreciated xx

You sat down in Snape's potion class after you got scolded for being 5 minutes late. His classes were SO boring. Your ADHD didn't help either. You grabbed your quill and started to doodle but were shortly stopped by Snape shouting at you for the second time in a 15 minute span.

You rolled your eyes and looked for something to fiddle with. I mean, how could it be your fault that you had ADHD? Was it really that wrong that you needed to fiddle with something to concentrate? Snape definitely made it seem like a sin.

You noticed a hangnail on your finger and started to pick on that. Snape could take that away from you. I mean, was he going to cut off your fingers? As you pulled on the hangnail, you felt a little sting and you knew if your bare flesh made contact with even a drop of water, it would burn. This wasn't avoidable either especially since you were in potions. But you could worry about that later. As long as you could concentrate.

"You need to stop doing that. It looks painful. Plus it isn't healthy." Mattheo comments as be places his hand on yours. It's a comforting feeling but you feel uneasy, looking for something else to fiddle with.

"but I can't! I have ADHD."

"There's got to be better ways to cope."

"there's nothing else to fiddle with"

"Here." He slips one of his rings off his fingers and hands it to you.

"are you sure" you ask.

"yes love." He replies.

And so you fiddle with his silver ring the rest of the lesson but find it hard to with him holding one of your hand captive. You wanted to ask to move it, but you didn't want him to feel upset plus you kinda liked the feeling of his warm hand on your freezing cold one.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊**＊✿❀　❀✿＊**＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

You were excited for the quidditch match, Slytherin against Gryffindor. You walked up to Pansy, Theodore and Blaise, your group of friends, as you spotted then among the crowd which was dripping with anticipation.

As the game started, you found yourself searching for a particular brown, curly haired boy.

As you spotted him, aiming to score, you felt yourself blushing. As he scored half of the crowd cheered in excitement, and the other half groaned in frustration. As you locked eyes with the brunette boy, you caught hun winning at you which made you turn even more red than you already were if that was possible.

The game ended with Slytherin being victorious (which was a first).

After the game you walked up to Mattheo to congratulate him.

"I've never been to a quidditch match before but I heard this was Slytherin's first victory against Gryffindor."

"Guess you are a good luck charm." He smiled at you.

You blushed. Something about that comment felt genuine, like it was more than just a joke.

"Ah, is that so? You were amazing out there by the way."

"Only for you princess." He winked at you. "I assumed you were awestruck by me. I caught you staring." he grinned.

You blushed as you started to fiddle with your hangnail again. You felt a comforting hand on yours. Mattheo's hand.

"Now now love. We talked about this. Use my rings instead."

You felt nice that Mattheo cared about you. You smiled at him, trying to keep your composure. You felt like kissing him right there and then but you didn't.

Your friends walked up to Mattheo and congratulated him for the win, snapping you out of your daydream about the brunette boy who, at this very moment, was holding your hand.

"You could say we had a good luck charm." He winked at you.

You chuckled at the statement. Girlfriend had a better ring to it, but for now you settled for 'A good luck charm.'

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x you #harry potter #harry potter imagine #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle angst #marcus lopez imagine #marcus lopez x reader #marcus lopez arguello #marcus lopez

[sin-djarin]

Video Nasty (Joel Miller x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit 18+. MDNI.

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Your quest to clear out the basement leads to an unexpected discovery.

Warnings: SMUT, porn with minimal plot, unspecified era, mentions of food, no mention of age (reader is in late 20s), unprotected P in V sex (don't do this, be safe), sweat, creampie. No use of y/n.

A/N: Listen. I don't know anymore. Forgive me for any typos or grammar errors please.

You can read other snippets from this here:

Video Nasty II: Restricted Viewing

PLEASE PUT YOUR AGES IN YOUR BIO. I REALLY DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO BLOCK ANYONE.

Reblog and comment to make your writer's day.

There was one task you had been putting off every weekend since you got here – going through the boxes of stuff in the basement. That’s all it was known to you as – stuff. Stuff and probably junk. About six or seven cardboard boxes - only identifiable with your name or Joel’s on written in marker on the front of them.  All of them holding your belongings that had yet to be sorted through waiting to be assigned their places throughout the house.

When the seasons changed you wondered where that certain cosy sweater might be or where the mug you’d had since college went. You just never looked for it. Only the essentials had been taken out of their boxes – enough plates and glasses to eat and drink with along with some other day to day necessities like underwear and socks.

But today you were taking the plunge. The day passes you by as you sort boxes of your old jeans, bras that no longer held their shape, notebooks and sketchpads full of doodles, and piles of CDs and cassette tapes. It took so long because every time you pulled something out a decision had to be made – keep it or donate it. In other words; keep the memory or lose it. When you pulled up a t-shirt, it’s too easy to relive the moment you wore it to that fourth of July party ten years ago. And that’s all of this is now – memories. You sigh at the thought but find a small mercy in the fact you can always make new ones.

Joel’s boxes are easier to go through than yours. Mountains of entangled cables each with an unknown function, screwdriver sets with some parts missing, dozens of old different sized and shaped batteries. Most of this, you guessed, could go straight in the trash. As you come to the end of his second box, a smell of pepper and basil hits your nose. Hours have gone by.

“Dinner” his voice booms from the top of the basement stairs, calling you to the kitchen.

“Just a second” you reply.

There are only a few items left in the box. If you finish, you can eat dinner with a sense of accomplishment. Quickly you take out the stacks at the bottom and start to make decisions about the various sheets of papers in your hands. A few old drill manuals – he doesn’t use this brand anymore – trash. Baseball cards – keep – they could be worth something.

The last thing in your grip is a square white envelope that’s beaten up. But it’s sturdy. Flipping it around, the view through its clear plastic window makes your jaw drop. It’s a DVD. The disc itself is white with big red letters that say NASTY NURSES VOL VI. In a smaller font underneath reads five minute preview – not for resale. A giggle escapes you at the thought of Joel watching something so cliché. Opening the envelope to pull the disc out to get a better look you can see it’s been used – the scratches and fingerprints make that clear.

“Hey” you jump as he calls for you a second time.

“Coming!”

You shove the disc in the front pocket of your sweatshirt and climb the stairs to the kitchen.

He’s already sat at the small dining table, hunched over and half way through a plate loaded with pasta in a tomato sauce and chicken. Taking your seat opposite him, you try to hide the grin that threatens to spread across your face. You know something he doesn’t.

“How’d it go?” he asks, with a mouth full of food, his head only inches from the dish.

“Yeah. Went through everything” you tell him. Your chewing making it easier to disguise your smile.

“You look pretty happy about it. Are we keeping a lot?”

“Not really. Tried to get rid of as much as I could”

“Right” he nods and continues to shovel forkfuls of pasta into his mouth.

You’re starving but you only pick at your dinner. Your thoughts are stolen by what could possibly be on that DVD. More than likely, it’s not anything brilliant. But the idea of what Joel did while watching it is all consuming. It’s not a taboo image – him getting off to porn. But it is distracting, more tempting than the food on your plate. And he notices.

“What’s wrong? Too much salt?” he asks, one eyebrow arched.

“No, no. It’s great” you bite your lip, trying to stifle that same smirk.

“You should eat” he points to your plate with the silver fork. “Been down there for hours and it’s late”

He’s right; it is late. Late for eating dinner anyway. You take his advice and eat until you’re comfortably full. When you’re done, you lean back into the wooden chair and he carries your plate away to the sink. Watching him clean up doesn’t help, it only sends your mind into a whirl. His broad back is turned to you – one arm holding the plate steady under the running water, the other moving backwards and forwards holding a sponge while his head bows, looking down at what he’s doing.

He shuts off the faucet and spins back around to you, wiping his hands with a towel.

“What’s that?” he points to your stomach.

You look down, expecting to find a mess of sauce down your black hoodie but it there isn’t one. But there is the corner of the envelope peeking out of your pocket. Fuck.

“Just uh…something I found” you say, hoping your answer would satisfy him.

“Can I see?” he rolls his eyes.

You hesitate for a second, quickly running through the outcomes of showing him the secret you had inherited from him. He could be embarrassed, he could feign ignorance and claim it’s not his – that it just fell into a box of his stuff.

You take it out and hand it over to him. His eyes fall down to study it, eyebrows knit together as he recalls the moving pictures. He runs a hand over his mouth and it falls to his side again before his eyes dart to yours to see what you’re thinking.

“I, um” he clears his throat, his Adams apple bouncing up and down in his throat as he does.

“It’s okay, Joel” you smile reassuringly.

“Yeah, no. I-“ he shifts his weight on his heavy boots.

You stand and run a hand down his arm not wanting him to become uncomfortable about it. Because he shouldn’t be. It’s an acceptable activity. You start to walk away from him towards the stairs with the smile very much settled on your face now.

“This what you were smilin’ at?” his voice comes from behind you as you leave him along in the kitchen.

________

The hot water of the shower blasts away all the dust and fluff that gathered on you on your journey to declutter. It feels like a weight has been lifted, as you mentally check the day’s activity off your to do list. While you throw on an oversized t-shirt and a pair of underwear for bed, you think about your discovery. You didn’t think he was too embarrassed, but you do assume that it’s something neither of you will bring up again.

When you step out of the bathroom, Joel has already changed out of jeans and flannel shirt and swapped them for his usual sleep outfit of a tank top and heather gray boxer briefs that both hug his muscular body. He sits on the edge of the bed, one leg resting on it and his other foot planted to the floor. The only light on in the room is the lamp on your beside table as you make your way over to your side and sit back against the headboard, taking your pot of moisturizer from the drawer of the nightstand and begin applying it to your calves.

Joel hasn’t moved an inch. When you glance at him his lips are pursed as he combs his fingers back and forth through his moustache, eyes focused on nothing in particular ahead of him. Your intention wasn’t to embarrass him, but maybe you had.

Screwing the lid of your body cream back on and tucking it back into the drawer, you attempt to spark up a conversation about the whole affair but he beats you to it.

“Think we should watch it?” he mutters into his fingers, his gaze still targeted ahead of him.

Your brows raise at the question. This was taking a different route than you had mapped out for yourself.

“Do you want to watch it?” you counter.

“I mean. If you want to y’know, I just-“ he swallows hard. “Haven’t seen it in years” he explains, his voice is unsteady, like he’s trying to convince himself of the idea.

Shit. It must be that good. All five minutes of it. Of course there’s no denying it – you’re curious. he knows what’s on that DVD and you don’t – it could be anything. And the earlier idea of making new memories is more appealing now than ever. He wants to share it with you.

“Put it in” you smile.

He gets up to and inserts the DVD into the side of the TV – a feature that you had never really used for anything other than rewatching movies that had grown to be a comfort to you on a bad day.

He resumes his position, sitting on the bed bent forward with one elbow resting on his knee while the other holds the remote. You brace yourself, sitting back against your pillows. He scrolls through the output options and selects DVD from the menu. With one final look over his shoulder at you, he presses play.

Immediately after the rated R disclaimer, overly enthusiastic moans blare from the speakers. A blonde woman dressed in a flimsy white nurse outfit that stops just above the knee appears. The camera pans down her legs to show off her matching white lace stockings. The next clip has her on her back on a gurney, legs spread open wide as she plays with herself. She’s interrupted by another actor, dressed in a lab coat. You can see where this is going…

Joel is completely focused on the screen, eyes are narrowed and his teeth terrorize his bottom lip. It’s difficult to tell if he’s enjoying it or not.

Meanwhile, the next clip has started. The nurse has shed all her clothes apart from her stockings and the doctors face is buried in her pussy. It’s unclear if she’s having a good time either. Her expression looks forced and you can’t see a thing he’s doing for the back of his head – you find yourself unable to compare his technique to Joel’s. Before you know it, she’s bent over and he’s pumping in and out of her from behind.

It’s all jump cuts - from scene to seedy scene and gratuitous oohs and aahs echo through the bedroom. Then she’s on top, after that she’s on her knees as the doctor stands above her as she moans something along the lines of give it to me. And right before the money shot – the DVD stops.

Joel leans back on the bed as the movie returns to the DVD menu that’s similar in design to the front of the disc. You’re not a porn connoisseur, but you’ve indulged enough to know that that was not quality viewing. You wouldn’t class it as sexy, just rough and ready. There’s no plot, no story and no happy endings for anyone. It’s just…porn.

“So what was your favorite part?” you question him, eager to know just why it showed so much wear and tear on the shiny plastic of the back of it.

He shakes his head. “Dunno” he sighs. He’s disappointed; his viewing experience wasn’t like he remembered it to be. Maybe there were too many people present to enjoy it.

“But you must have liked it before”

“Before, yeah” he agrees and lays down fully on his back beside you.

“Why? What was your favorite part?” he probes you now.

“I kinda liked it when she was on top of him”

“That right?” he turns his head towards you, ears pricking at your admission. “Why’s that?”

“You know why, Joel”

“No I don’t, baby. Gonna need you to explain that to me real good” he drawls, reaching over to grab your leg and maneuver you on top of his hips in a swift movement.

His palms run up and down your thighs that spread wide across his waist. You feel him becoming stiff underneath you already. The feeling of it and image of him broad, and willing beneath you is enough to send a warmth to your pussy.  

“C’mon, now. Tell me” he pleads.

“Can feel it better”

“Feel what better?”

Fed up of waiting for clarification, his fingertips slide underneath the fabric of your underwear and you jolt as they brush over your clit, travelling down to part you. He licks his lips as your slick coats their skin. Slowly, you start to rock against the heel of his palm, evoking a high pitched moan at his touch. He stares up at you, eyelids heavy with lust over brown eyes as he watches you move at your own speed, allowing you to take what you need.

“Feel this better?” he rasps as his middle finger slips into you.  

“Yeah” you breathe, leaning on his toughened chest for support as you vary your movements, alternating between up and down and back and forth, keen to feel as much of him as possible.

His ring finger enters you next and the sudden fullness makes you gasp but the stretch is wonderful. But it’s not long before the heat of both of you grows to be too much for him. He removes his hand and pushes at your sides so you stand above him. You can see the patch of gray material that’s become a darker shade around his leaking tip that’s been confined to his underwear.

He’s quick to remedy it though – pulling down your underwear and his before lowering you back down on top of him, only straightening back up for a second to pull your t-shirt over your head. You bend forward to wrap your hands around his neck he raises his head slightly to meet your mouth for a hungry kiss. It’s fiery and uncoordinated – all teeth and tongue but you both meet each other's deep moans at the sensation.

His fingers dig and curl themselves into the hair at the back of your head while you start to slide your slick folds along the thick length of his cock, the smooth head of it making a delicious contact with your aching clit.

“Can you cum like this, darlin’?” he wonders, purring into your neck while his hands slither down your ribcage to knead your breasts.

Instead of an answer, you raise up off him to anchor yourself with your knees either side of his hips and rest your hands on his shoulders, pinning him in place to feel the friction of his bare cock against your clit. His hands travel to the curve of your ass to guide you along.

“God” you pant. “Yeah, Joel” you warn him as that spark begins to ignite in your abdomen.

You push your hips harder into him, desperately chasing your orgasm now. The growing heat of it creeps up your back and he swipes the hair out of your face to see your eyes tighten and your mouth fall open when it finally crashes over you and you’re left breathless, pulsing on his cock.

Joel lets you catch your breath for a minute, calloused fingertips skating over the soft skin of your back as you recover from your release.

“Think you can take me? It’s okay if you can’t” he cups your jaw to look at him.

You steady your breathing. He’s not done yet, despite his cotton tank top that’s ridden half way up his stomach growing damp with sweat as it clings to his torso. Tiny pebbles of it forming on his forehead. And truthfully, you weren’t finished yet either. Not with him under you like this –still leaking against his belly – needy.

He offers you his hand to help you position yourself over him, knowing your legs aren’t to be trusted after moments ago. His free hand wraps around his cock, holding it steady for you to slide onto. Inch by inch it stretches and fills you, your soft walls encasing him. He grunts through gritted teeth, head pushes back into the mattress once he bottoms out. It takes a second for you to adjust to this new fullness.

“Jesus, baby. Fuck” he hisses as you slowly start to rock, bodies finding a synchronized rhythm.

Every time your hips rise and sink back down on him the head of his cock hits that spot at front. He’d asked, but you couldn’t articulate why it feels better. Joel can only watch as with each bounce you become a little bit more breathless and your movements a little less graceful trying to angle him perfectly below you. You’re lost in all of it; the filthy slick sounds, the vibrations of his deep hums and the swell of him inside you.

He interprets it well, you think when he brings his hand to his mouth to lick his thumb and starts to massage your clit with the soaking pad of it. He applies enough pressure to draw you dangerously close to another orgasm.

This picture of Joel through bleary eyes writhing below you is more sinful than anything your mind had created when you imagined him watching that DVD by himself. The lamp throwing light from behind him highlights the flexing muscles in each bicep and forearm as they work to hold you. The speed of his chest rising and falling faster underneath his tank top that is virtually stuck to him like another layer of skin is mouthwatering. You did that – not a DVD.  The thought of that alone coaxes another tidal wave of pleasure to rip through every nerve ending. There’s no energy left to scream, you only manage a choked cry through a dry mouth while the aftershocks of it cause you to clench around his thickness.

Your body hangs heavy over him as he moves his hands to grip the meat of your ass, lifting you ever so slightly and begins to thrust at his desired pace. The veins and tendons in his neck bulge as he pistons in and out of you, hunting for his own orgasm. With every stab his fingers dig deeper into your skin.

“Hmm. Fuck” he curses and whines, air puffing from his flared nostrils as it hits him.

You feel him spill inside you, its heat coats you. One hand leaves your ass to push your shoulder back, signaling you to sit back and be fast about it.

“N-no. I’m not done” he warns and dips his waist to pull himself out of you. Another two ropes spray over your lower belly and drips down your thighs. Your heavy eyes widen at the sight of it, skin burning at the feeling of it, taking you both by surprise.

You collapse on top of him and lay your head on his shoulder. His heart is hammering against his sternum but yours is matching it beat for beat. Both of your bodies are spent, only focused on stabilizing your breaths in a rooms that feels likes it’s starved of oxygen. Your earlier shower was futile you think as you lie messy on top of him.

“Maybe we can watch something you like next time” he heaves a deep, satisfied breath.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal characters #tlou fic

[matrixbearer2024]

Hey, this might require a little research. I’m just curious if Vox sometimes gets nostalgic for his own time (1940s-1950s) and if collegestudent!Reader would sometimes appeal to his “old man” interests? Like playing music that was popular during that time, or wearing fashion from then, or going to a drive-in movie theater (I’m assuming there are places that cater to certain decades in hell since cannibal town is so 1930s it’s insane)?

Nostalgic Memories

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: Funnily enough, it was briefly touched upon in one of the interludes that dear Reader actually took some time to research about some stuff around the era Vox was alive in just to understand him a little better. They personally don't like collecting antiques of a time they didn't live in- but they do appreciate the unique fashion style and trends of the time period. It's often a joke between them about how "old" Vox is because of when he died despite not actually being that far in age biologically to (Y/N). (Vox died in his 30's, Reader is in their mid to late 20's) My personal taste actually quite matches the TV man's time period(I have a stupid amount of blazers and vests it's kinda idiotic lmao) so my preferences slightly bled into Reader's view on the vintage style. Anyway, here's a quick drabble about this because I literally just want more content between these two.

"Hey Vox! Come over! I wanna show you something!"

It was just a simple vague text he saw from you during a meeting. You could've been talking about quite literally anything for all the overlord knew. Sometimes what you found interesting was just so unpredictable that Vox eventually stopped trying to guess what was in store.

He grabbed his phone and shot back a quick reply, they were merely discussing some boring statistics anyway. He could spare you a minute.

"I'm in a meeting right now doll."

"Then afterwards! I promise it won't take long!"

Vox slightly raised an eyebrow at that, what had you possibly planned to suddenly be so persistent with him? Actually- what kind of insanity did you want to drag him into this time?

The overlord contemplated about replying when you continued to send message after message asking him to visit the hotel because of something you wanted him to see. After a bit of you asking, curiosity got the better of him and reluctantly he agreed.

"Fine, since you asked so nicely. But I won't stay for long okay? I'm a busy guy dollface."

"YAY! Thank you! I promise you'll enjoy it!"

He smiled at the text you sent back. Of course you plastered a number of cute emojis and hearts at the end of it. Whether it was meant to simply be friendly or a joking show of affection was easily lost on the overlord- but it was more than evident that his mood had improved if anyone else in the meeting had anything to say about it.

By the time Vox dropped by the hotel at your request, the last thing he expected was your peculiar outfit choice. It was a little older than what he generally attributed to your style, dare he say it was more reminiscent of his own outfit even.

"Okay, what's with the style change? Any special occasion?"

"Nah, I just wanted to try something new. Whaddya think? I really like the vibe too, real classy!"

The overlord just playfully rolled his eyes when you twirled to give him a full look at the outfit, what were you seriously trying to achieve this time? Did you dress this way on purpose for him?

If the excited way you looked up at him was any indication, Vox was inclined to believe you had tried to score some nostalgia points with him. Ironically, your ridiculousness was actually somehow working too.

"You look swell dear, who fashioned you the outfit though?"

"Lucifer helped me, dude's kind of a natural at balancing comfort and style."

Ah, that made a lot of sense.

Had Velvette fashioned you these clothes- Vox wouldn't have needed to come all the way to the hotel. Why the king of hell even entertained your shenanigans still struck him as a little odd- but not really unwelcome.

The overlord snapped out of his thoughts when he saw your hand extended out to him, the smile on your face only served to add to his confusion. What were you doing?

"Dance with me? Come on, don't tell me you don't know how."

Oh you were playing this game now? Well, Vox wasn't ever one to back down from a challenge. Not from anybody, and especially not from you.

"Oh it's on darling! But do try to keep up."

Your companion flicked his wrist as a jolt of electricity came out of his hand and blasted to your phone. Which had predictably started to blast some 40's tunes when he suddenly grabbed your hand and pulled you to his chest.

"Oh please, as if you can even tire me."

You only returned his grin when you faced the overlord again, your hands intertwined with his claws as you both danced away happily engrossed in your own little world. Your laughs and banter echoing the hotel lobby accompanied by a vintage melody of songs long past their time.

Vox was supposed to be in and out of there in just an hour, but he lost track of time in his enjoyment with you that he'd accidentally socked his entire schedule that day.

Not that he could bring himself to care when you giggled and roped him back in for one more dance.

It was just one more, who was counting anyway?

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #vox #get off my screen series #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

The Almost Breakup

note: short but i'm happy with it

also gonna get back into this story soon also if you have thoughts on this au (or any of my aus) please share i love hearing them <3

y/nupdates

liked by CorrodedCoffinStan, lilian_19, and others

y/nupdates: Y/n and Isla (Y/n's boyfriend's daughter) out together going out to dinner and seeming very close, and no Eddie in sight

y/nupdates: Y/n and Isla (Y/n's boyfriend's daughter) out together going out to dinner and seeming very close, and no Eddie in sight

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emails.tour.11: her and isla bonding is so cute

icarly_: Isla is so pretty

Metalhead_: she's such a slut

13taytay: JOJO!! HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING?!?!

im.a.mirrorball: in her step-mom era

y/nismyqueen: where are y/n's shoes from?? very very important!

for_our_moony: prada i think, but steve madden makes a more affordable

CorrodedCoffinStan: he is to old for her, and now making her act like a mom to his daughter. disgusting.

-

y/nupdates

liked by tswiftfan13, gilmore_girl, and others

y/nupdates: Y/n was out with her new boyfriend, Eddie Munson's son. They went out to lunch together, and this is the first time we've seen them together.

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dog.loverrr: only 5 years between her and her boyfriends son..

princess.y/n: love seeing her with Leo not just isla

anna.frozen_: my worlds colliding

munson_86: fr been an Eddie fan for years and a Y/n fan since girl meets world

y/nswifey: forever in love with Leo Munson

philly_eagles.fan: i think they should date instead of her and his dad, the age gap is gross

-

Eddie and Y/n have been together for 6 months now, about the time Eddie’s relationships would end, without the women ever meeting his kids and never any ‘I love you’s. But everything was going well, and though Y/n had met Isla when she met Eddie they had gotten really close, and she had now met Leo and despite all expectations that went well. Y/n and Leo had become friends of sorts. But no matter how happy he was, how happy she made him, Eddie started pulling away. He couldn’t help it. He loved her, yes. Not that he’d told her yet. He loved his kids first, and he has to put them first, always will. 

Y/n was now on the international leg of her tour, and they haven’t talked in a while, always seeming to miss each other. This was giving Eddie the space he needs to think about their relationship. Not without zero help from his kids. 

“Is Y/n going to come here after her shows in Europe are over?” Isla asked, pushing her vegetables across her plate with her fork, then picking up her knife to saw the broccoli in two.

“Um- I’m not sure, kid.” The man mumbles, hoping Isla will move on after not getting an answer.

“Why not?”

“Isla-”

“Can you ask-”

“Isla! Finish your dinner, or if you're done take your plate to the kitchen.” Sighing, Isla got up grabbing her plate to the kitchen and stomping upstairs to her room. After hearing the slamming the teens door, Eddie gets up to start loading the dishwasher. Leo, who was over for dinner, like he often did, walked over to his dad, placing his plate next to the sink. Then rounding the island, to sit at a bar stool. 

“So.. What’s with your attitude?” This causes Eddie to look up from his task, giving his son a look that could kill.

“Leo, we're not talking about this.”

“No. We have to. I don’t know what’s wrong with you. You get so sensitive everytime we mention Y/n lately. Are you not talking? Please don’t break up with this one, I actually like her.”

“Leo. I ca-”

“No. You love her! And I guess that scares you, because every relationship you’ve had since mom has had this 6 month timer and that timer has gone off, and you're not ready. Or it scares you that she’s so close to us. And that if you ever break up Isla would be heartbroken.” 

Eddie takes a moment, thinking over what Leo has said, and scarily accurate it is, and since when was Leo that smart?

“Leo?... Could you stay here with Isla for a few days?”

“Yeah.” Leo says, a wide grin spreading across his face.

-

Here Y/n was sitting in her hotel in Paris, staring at her phone, looking at a voicemail Eddie had left. It’s time. He’s going to break up with her; she just knows it. Her and Leo went out a couple weeks ago and he had let slip of Eddie’s 6 month timer on relationships, of course that was followed with Leo’s reassurance that he could feel she was different. But that didn’t cure her anxiety. 

Because since she left for tour, they haven’t talked, like Eddie has been avoiding her. She had written a break-up song about him for fucks sake, they’re not even broken up yet. But now he was going to break up with her, over a voicemail at that. 

Ripping the band-aid off, Y/n finally presses play on the voicemail.

“Hey, Y/n-” God her first name, it’s really happening “-um, I have a lot of this to say, but I can’t say it over the phone. So I’ll talk to you later. I care about you. I know it hasn’t felt like it, and that’s part of what I need to talk about. I just need you to remember that. I care about you. Okay. Bye.”

At least he was planning on letting her down easy. Guess that’s a plus. Pouring herself a glass of wine from the overpriced display hotels have, Y/n sits down at the dining table, staring at the abstract painting across from her. After what felt like an hour of staring, which in actuality it was 10 minutes, the young woman hears the click of the hotel door. It startles her back into a conscious state, wondering why her assistant Andrea, the only other person with a key card, was entering her room at this hour.

“Andrea?” Turning the corner, Y/n comes face to face with the older, taller man. “Eds… Wha- what are you doing here?”

“Did you not get my voicemail?” He asks, as if that voicemail held any answers. 

“Yeah, but.. It was pretty vague.” Her reply caused Eddie to smile.

“Yeah, sorry about that, I was in a rush. Packing, getting the jet ready.” Silence came over the two. Awkward silence. The couple had never been in awkward silence for the entirety of their relationship, always talking, never a pause in their banter. They had comfortable silence at night, staring into each other's eyes. But never was it awkward between them.

“You’ve been avoiding my calls.”

“I’ve been avoiding your calls.” The two spoke at the same time, before Eddie continues, “I’m sorry. It’s just- Ever since my relationship with my ex-wife, my relationships have had this 6 month lifespan. And when they get close to 6 months I get ready to end things.” Here it comes the ‘it’s not you, it’s me and my commitment issues’ “But that didn’t happen with you.” Oh. “With you, you met Isla and Leo no woman I’ve been with has gotten there, and they like you! And that’s fucking scarry. So the thought of us ever breaking up and what that would do to Isla.. It killed me, so I wanted to get ahead of it, y’know break up with you before she got even more attached, but I couldn’t so I just avoided you. Which was the wrong choice because that just caused you and me more pain. So.. I came here to tell you that.. I love you. And you don’t have to say it back, but I need you to know that I’m in, and this relationship it’s not just you and me anymore, my kids are in this. And I have to think about them and I need to know that you will also think about them.”

Throughout that long winded explanation, all Y/n could think about is that Eddie is not breaking up with her, and that he loves her. He, Eddie Munson, playboy, rock legend loved her.

“Eds, I love you too.” After she said the three little magic words, Eddie leaps towards her, his lips smashing against hers. Their lips moving in sync, Eddie’s tongue tempting her lips to widen, to allow his tongue and hers to fight for dominance. Y/n’s lips grant Eddie’s tongue entrance while Eddie has her distracted by his tongue, his hands slip downwards to her thighs gripping them for support to lift the woman onto the dining table, leaning her back and lifting his lips from hers to be able to talk once again. The disconnection of their lips leave the couple breathless, panting, and staring into eachothers eyes. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

-

The couple wake up the next morning, sunlight seeping through the sheer curtains, legs tangled together, Y/n moving to put her cold feet on Eddie’s legs to warm them.

“Ah! Get your feet off me. They’re cold.” Eddie mumbles into his hair, before turning his body to face Y/n, he was the little spoon last night.

“I know! That’s why I want you to warm them.” The short woman says in a ‘duh’ tone. Wiggling her feet between his calves, Eddie grabs her ankles, moving onto his back and pulling her to straddle him. Her bare core, resting on his v-line, as the two were still naked from last night's activities. 

“Hi.”

“Hi, darling.”

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.” The older man brings his hand to his girl's jaw, his thumb rubbing back and forth on her cheek. 

“I love you.” This causes Eddie to let out a deep chuckle, as the two have said this about 30 times since he first did last night.

“I love you too.”

“So.. Now that we’re in love or whatever.” “‘Whatever’” “I want you to meet my parents… In a couple months when I get a break from tour. What do you think about that?” Y/n was worried about asking Eddie this, it felt so juvenile, but Eddie has never once made her feel bad about their age gap, one of the many things she loved about him.

“I would love to. And in the summer, I would really love you coming with me and the kids to Hawkins, meet my uncle and my hometown friends?”

“I would love to meet the man that raised my amazing man. I’ll have to thank him y’know. A lot.”

“Of course, he did a great job.”

“Oh shut up. I also really want to meet your friends. What are they like?”

“Well theirs the Hellfire boys, Dustin, Lucas, Mike and Will. They’re a couple years younger than me, all married, all have kids. Mike and Will are married, they adopted a few. Then there’s Steve. He has a kid Leo’s age.. Then Robin, she got married to this girl from high school, Vicky, me and Steve totally got them together but she won’t admit it. They’re all great, and I can’t wait for you to meet them.” 

-

“I want to go to.. Italy. Have you been?”

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.”

“I’ve always wanted to go.”

“I’ll take you.”

The two have been laying on their backs staring at the ceiling, talking all about the places they’ve been and want to go. The couple haven't left the bed all day, just to go to the bathroom, and Eddie once to grab them food, all while still naked, just how they liked it. 

“I wrote a breakup song about you.. Before everything, when I thought we were going to break up.” She added the last part quickly after her pause.

“Anything bad about me?” Eddie asks, clearly making a joke out of it, something Y/n was thankful for, he could always tell when she needed him to be serious and when she needed him to be jokey, another thing she loved about him.

“No, of course not. Just about how it would be super hard for me if we did break up.”

“Then good thing we didn’t.” He says, pressing his lips gently against hers.

~taglist~

@whoscamila @mystargirl-interlude @creoleguurl @witchwolflea @kissmejoey @taylorswiftsloverfr @random000000sblog

#eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #older!rockstar!eddie x reader #older!rockstar!eddie #older!eddie munson x reader #older!eddie #older eddie munson #older!dilf!eddie munson #older!rockstar!eddie x popstar!reader #girl dad!eddie munson #eddie munson x girlfriend!reader #eddie munson x girly!reader #older!eddie x popstar!reader #older!eddie fluff #older!eddie munson #older!eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie x reader #older!eddiemunson

[melanatedeuph0ria]

the boy is mine ⋆˙⟡♡

rick grimes x black!fem! reader

since he’d arrived in alexandria, you and rick have gone from complete strangers to close friends. you’d proven to be extremely useful to his team-after all, you were a great shot and had skin tougher than steel. but now, you’ve started seeing rick in a different, more romantic light. will your newly-developed crush on the police officer be reciprocated as you’d dreamed?

summary: you and rick go on a run for supplies. some hidden feelings get uncovered along the way.

NOTE: this fic takes place in alexandria era BEFORE negan (i’m guessing like s6 bc i forgot)

a/n: MY FIRST FIC EVER AAAAA i’m hoping its ok bc i’m literally just going w the flow lmao

also sorry ts took so fucking long i still have school n stuff guys 🙏🏽😞

genre: fluff, angst, hurt, comfort idk

warnings: blood, zombies, cursing, use of n word, near-death experience

“y/n! you ready to head out?”, rick yelled as he leaned against a silver sedan parked in front of Alexandria’s gates.

after finding yourself caught in a conversation with maggie and glenn, you quickly swooped your head around to acknowledge the gruff man, your eyes widening at the sound of his southern drawl lingering on your name.

“yeah, I’m comin’!” you croaked, creasing your lips into a nervous smile. after a moment, you made your way over to his car, backpack slung over your back.

you and rick were headed to a small, nearby grocery store that an old-time alexandrian claimed was hidden away from the frequent commotion of the town. there was a 50/50 chance that it might’ve or might’ve not been looted, but you both weren’t willing to skimp out on this rare opportunity. after all, the community was running short on food and supplies-it started getting obvious that it was once people were given smaller portion sizes than normal.

and it was you who, stupidly enough, agreed to check out the area with none other than your best friend you’ve been harboring a crush on, rick grimes.

you were intrigued with the man from the moment he stepped foot into alexandria-he lowkey terrified you, him AND his group, but that only sparked your urge to get to know them a bit more. you didn’t actively seek interaction with them- it was by really by circumstance when you had the chance to kinda intermingle with them all. you forgot how you and rick even met each other, to be honest. he knew you were a good shot and had skin tough as nails, that’s for sure. you had grown into something of a maternal figure for Carl, his teenage son, although it took a while for him to finally warm up to you. you couldn’t blame him, to be honest. you knew he’d been through some rough shit-he told you about his mom and what he was forced to do to her after she’d been bitten and just delivered judith, his month-old half-sister. nonetheless, you and rick were both each other’s rocks; he cared for you unlike anyone else in alexandria, and you adored certain things about him-his deep, southern voice when he gently called your name. the traces of vanilla and bourbon cologne left on his clothes despite sweating all day-most of the time he didn’t even bother trying to put it on, but the days he did, you subconsciously noticed. him surprising you with 90’s rnb album CDs that he’d snatched on his runs- once he’d surprised you with a whole erykah badu album, and since then, you’ve kept it under lock and key inside your nightstand. his damp, ruffled hair as he stops by your house for a towel to dry it off because he never seemed to have any of his own; you let him in without much question, of course, but for the past few weeks he’s been on your porch steps, your heart’s been pumping at speeds you’ve never experienced before-at least, not in a while-a zombie apocalypse ruins one’s concept of love when the one you’re in love with can slip from your fingers in a heartbeat.

but could it be? could you really be in love with your best friend in a zombie apocalypse? you were sure of it, but horrified to know if he felt the same, which is why you didn’t even realize your leg was was anxiously bouncing up and down on the floor of the car until…

“y/n. you alright?”

“huh? oh y-yeah, i’m good. what’s wrong?”

“nothin’, you’re just..extra quiet.”

“do i need to start talkin’?” you didn’t mean for that to come off as rude as it did. you were just nervous, nervous about what he’d tell you if you told him how you truly felt.

“no, no, it’s fine. you don’t gotta say nothin’ if you don’t feel like it.”

aww shit, now i feel bad, you thought. you tried your hardest not to sink into the car seat in shame so he wouldn’t notice yet another thing off about you today. you tilted your head to the window.

“we made it.” in what seemed like a flash, you and Rick were parked outside the convenience store. did you zone out that hard? not that it mattered anymore. you climbed out of the car and you both took a closer look at the store. it was abandoned all right-at least, it could’ve just looked that way-but it still looked intact. untouched by the world. you hoped that would also apply to whatever awaited inside.

bigger than what i thought it’d be, you thought as you peered at the building.

“bigger than i thought it would be.” rick said aloud.

is this nigga reading my mind..? you thought. “let’s just hope there’s no walkers on the inside.” you said in an attempt to reassure yourself that there were no undead lurking around.

You looked back at Rick for a response or some sort of agreement, but when you did, out of the corner of your eye you saw him damn near snap his neck just to stare back at the store. he cleared his throat loudly. the gesture alone radiated an anxious energy, something you had almost never sensed in the man since knowing him. it was kinda like he was afraid of getting caught…wait…

..was rick staring at you? and how long had you gone without even noticing?

if he was staring, it certainly wasn’t for no reason. you are undoubtedly stunning, so much in fact that some people were envious of your beauty before and during the apocalypse. your rich, brown skin, glistening in the hot, june sun, and your thick, coily hair, pulled into a low puff, were just a few of your most admirable features, both inside and out.

shaking the thought off your mind, you both finally approached the building, carefully peeling open its glass doors and sliding inside. you knew the drill already, but rick felt the need to tell you again, which wasn’t to your surprise at this point. “i’ll take the left side, you take the right. we’ll use our walkies to communicate-if you’re in trouble, i’ll be right there, alright?” you nodded in compliance-you both knew you could handle yourself-but you couldn’t help but bite down a smile when he said that. his low, whispery voice was strangely reassuring, like he cared for you as a lover instead of a friend. you felt your cheeks begin to burn-it’s not really like he could tell anyway, for obvious reasons, but also because it was dark as hell in the store- you assumed the owners didn’t survive long enough to pay the electricity bill.

you were shocked to see that the aisles were just barely looted-you we’re expecting them to show signs of being scavenged at least a bit, but there they were, filled to the brim with food that would just about save Alexandria from starvation.

you clicked on your walkie and held it up to your mouth. “holy shit.” is all that could manage to come out of your mouth right now.

“looks like we hit the jackpot.” rick replied on the on the other line. he already knew what your “holy shit” meant.

with caution, you strolled down the “canned goods” aisle, looking up and down each section in awe. you came to an abrupt stop in front of one of the rows, gazing at everything in stock until your eyes settled on a can of peaches. you knew they were probably expired, you expected everything else in there to be, but you were curious to see what the expiration date read on its back, to see how long it’d been since the world went to hell. you held the can in your left hand, examining the date on its back: 10/18/09; it’d been expired a year before the apocalypse even began…

didn’t think it’d be that expired.., you murmured to yourself as you creased your lips into a disgusted frown. just as you began to set the specimen back on the shelf, a loud thud from underneath the rack sent it bouncing upwards, startling you so badly that the can slipped from your fingers and splattered onto the floor into a mushy mess. somehow, there was a walker under there, reaching its pale, maggot-infested limbs out to grasp at your leg. your eyes immediately traveled to the undead as you quickly thought of how you could quickly end its 2nd life. you frantically tugged your imprisoned foot backwards in an attempt to break free, reaching into your leather sheath and pulling out your dagger halfway, but, soon enough, you were met with an even more terrifying scenario. your back clashed violently with the rack behind you, and a walker on the other side, suddenly aroused by the sound and the smell of your human flesh, reached its spindly hand through a wide, open hole in the decaying rack. its hand curled around your throat with enough pressure to keep you pinned to the shelf while you also tried to free your leg from the walker below you.

“RICK, I NEED HELP!” you yelled out into the aisle. it was a risky move and could probably attract even more walkers than what was already threatening you, but you couldn’t get a good grip on your dagger and that was the only weapon you had. calling for backup was the only option you had left.

the oncoming presence of death pricked at prodded at your skin like thorns. the thought that-in that moment, you could be bitten, and all of your hopes and ambitions for the future could immediately be crushed-left you speechless, stricken with terror.

just as the walker grabbing at your neck prepared to take a bite out of it, rick appeared and stabbed it right in its head. just after you finally freed yourself from its grasp, the man noticed the walker on the ground and stomped on its skull, leaving a bloody, mushy mess on the floor, but you were too panicked to even notice.

an exasperated sigh escaped your mouth. “oh my God, rick, you’re a lifesaver-“

your rushed, panicky words were interrupted when he suddenly crashed his lips onto yours. your eyes immediately widened at the sensation of his coarse lips pressing onto yours, soft and plump, then slowly fluttered shut. your breathing, at first rapid and filled with anxiety, had simmered down into slow and steady breaths as his lips passionately devoured yours. almost subconsciously, he trailed his right hand, roughened with scars and calluses, on the nape of your neck, holding you closer than ever before as he rested his left hand on your hip. his ocean blue eyes drifted shut as he explored you, desperate for your touch, before he slowly pulled away from the kiss to give you some time to breathe. you fluttered your eyes back open and waited for him to look up at you.

“i’m-i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have done that, just so randomly. fuck…” rick babbled rapid apologies before a frustrated, shaky sigh escaped from his mouth. without thinking, you cupped his cheek, burning with the embarrassment of his decision, and leaned into him, rewarding him with a kiss of your own; it only seemed fair after he saved your life and your heart in only a matter of seconds. his eyes fluttered shut at your touch as your other hand tangled into his neatly combed hair. you let the feeling of your lips gently pressed together linger for a few seconds before you slowly pulled away. you felt your heart buzzing with excitement but also with relief, now that you knew that he’d been storing feelings for you this entire time. a confident grin appeared on your face as you looked up at him.

“i like you too, grimes.”

-the end. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

#black reader #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x black reader #twd rick #the walking dead #andrew lincoln #new fanfic #black!fem!reader #x black fem reader #rick grimes x black!fem! reader #x poc reader #rick grimes x poc reader #daryl dixon x reader #rick grimes fluff #friends to lovers #my man my man my man #I need him so bad I swear to GODDD #erm anyways! #poc!reader #black!reader

[fettuccin-e]

The Encore Performance

hello gang,, i wrote this so fucking long ago,, and it is not my greatest work but every time i open up my google docs this piece stares at me judgementally, yelling and screaming to be released to the world (it was written during peak eddie munson era in a fit of horniness, so maybe july 2022) pls enjoy the pwp

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, oral sex (f!recieving), fem!reader, exhibitionism, eddie is kind of a perv in this sorry

Eddie’s eyes have been on you all night, fingers moving absentmindedly across the frets of his guitar. It’s like you want to drive him completely insane, your tits bouncing in your tiny little dress as you bang your head to the music, your glistening body bathed in the purple light of the club. 

The air feels electric, charged and volatile; so different from the dingy yellow lighting of the Hideout. A new venue, a new crowd, and they’re fucking loving it. Eddie should be pandering to these new fans, trying to keep the band’s spot and maybe make these gigs a regular thing. Instead, his eyes are trained unwaveringly on you, his pretty, pretty girlfriend, supporting him and dancing to his music.

He has to spend the entire set rock hard under his jeans, grateful for the presence of his guitar over the obvious bulge of his cock.

The crowd still goes nuts after their last song, pleading for another encore, but Eddie’s frantic in trying to discreetly adjust himself before helping the guys put the stage equipment away. He knows how he must look, face sweaty and flushed, hair frazzled around his face. He hopes he can blame it on the adrenaline from the show and not how fucking horny he is.

He turns from placing an amp in Gareth’s truck to see you; giggling as you talk to one of the bartenders, your skin straining against the tight fabric of your dress. And though Eddie knows that you probably aren’t flirting, and that you’d definitely never cheat on him, he also sees how the bartender’s eyes are staring much lower on your body than where your eyes are, wiping off a glass slowly and deliberately. Eddie knows that you’d lay this guy out before he could try anything, but he also can’t help how his vision goes red as he stalks over.

“Eddie!” You smile when he finally gets to you, snuggling into his side while he puts a strong arm around your waist. “Jake,” you say, looking back at the bartender, “this is Eddie, my boyfriend. Eddie,” you look up at him with those big eyes he loves so much, “this is Jake.”

Eddie smiles at Jake, or tries to smile, it may come out more like a grimace, but doesn’t offer any kind of reply.  Jake’s eyes widen minutely at the sight of him, and Eddie loves how he takes a small step back. Perks of being the Hawkins "devil worshipper" he guesses.

Jake’s eyes are suddenly anywhere but you, and Eddie struggles against the urge to snarl at him. He glances down at you to see your eyes furrow slightly in confusion, picking up on the fact that there’s definitely something wrong with your boyfriend.

“Baby,” Eddie says, squeezing the fat of your hip, “I gotta talk to you real quick, ‘s that alright?”

“Yeah, of course, Eds,” you say, and turn back to Jake. “Look, it was really nice meeting you, Jake. You have a good night, okay?” Jake mutters a quiet, "yeah, you too,” before turning away to wipe at a glass a little too harshly to be normal. But Eddie’s already dragging you away with the arm he has around your waist, bypassing the back door of the club to pull you down a long hallway.

“Eddie, what’s going o-” you try to say, but are swiftly cut off by Eddie’s lips on yours, his long body pressing you into the wall. You gasp into his mouth as his big hands slide from your hips down to the backs of your thighs, lifting them up to wrap around his waist.

“Jesus Christ, baby, you tryin’ to drive me insane out there?” he mutters into your mouth, pressing the obscene bulge in his jeans against the heat of your pussy through your thin panties. “Wearing this tight little dress, looking like a fucking whore, got everyone out there looking at you. But you’re mine, aren’t you baby? All fucking mine.”

All you can do is whimper softly in response, barely having the presence of mind to remember that there are people barely twenty feet away, people who could easily walk down this hallway and see what Eddie has reduced you to. Eddie pulls back from your plush lips to look at you, and then smirks like the bastard he is. 

“You think you could stay quiet for me, pretty girl?” Eddie whispers, and doesn’t wait for a response before he’s gripping your thighs again while he drops to his knees, eye-level with your clothed cunt. He sets one of your feet on the ground to keep you standing while he hooks your other thigh over his shoulder, leaving you open and exposed, just for him.

“Eddie, I don’t-” you cut yourself off with a gasp when Eddie pulls your panties to the side and licks a long stripe up your dripping pussy. You clap a hand over your mouth as your eyes clench shut and your thighs tremble.

Eddie smiles up at you, his pretty girl, already wrecked from just the touch of his mouth. He keeps his fingers hooked into your panties, and finally allows himself to dive in, just like he’s been imagining since you walked out in your little dress.

You can’t hold back the whines echoing in the back of your throat as Eddie plunges his tongue deep into your pussy, the hardness of his nose pressing into your clit. Stay quiet stay quiet stay quiet. You’re trying to repeat the command in your head, but it’s so fucking difficult when Eddie shakes his head from side to side, starving for it. The movement makes his nose rub back and forth across your clit, and your hips jerk hard against his face, your free hand winding into Eddie’s thick hair.

“Eddie, Eddie, someone’s gonna hear baby, they’re gonna see, oh god,” you whisper softly, and you can feel the vibrations of Eddie’s quiet groans into your cunt. 

You whimper softly when he pulls away from you to whisper, “then you better make yourself cum, pretty girl. The faster you cum, the faster I can take you home and fuck you properly.”

He dives in once again, this time wrapping his lips around your throbbing clit and sucking. You whine like a fucking animal, hips bucking and swiveling, trying to get away, trying to get closer. Eddie’s hands come up to grip tight onto your hips, his rings digging sharply into your flesh, and you relish in the idea of seeing harsh bruises in the shape of his fingertips tomorrow morning.

You can feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, almost painful with the need to cum. Your head snaps to the end of the hallway, and you see all of the people walking through the club, dancing and drinking. People who have no idea that Eddie’s eating your pussy with your dress hitched up and your panties pulled to the side. People who have no idea that you’re always so desperate for Eddie, that you’d let him fuck you any time, any place. They have no idea that you’re going to cum all over his face, and he’s going to walk out there with his messy hair and pretty eyes and your juices still on his lips, oh god-

You desperately suck air into your lungs to stave off your scream as you cum, pussy clenching and dripping all over Eddie’s face, your hips shaking uncontrollably.

“Eddie, Eddie, oh my god, Eddie, I can’t, I can’t, ‘s too much,” you whisper into the quiet of the hallway, the obscene sounds of Eddie licking at your cunt thundering in your ears. You can tell Eddie doesn’t want to stop, he never does, but you think you’ll start crying if he keeps going. You tug his hair roughly, wrenching him away from your cunt.

“Please, please kiss me, baby,” you whine, and Eddie can only nod at you, his face flushed and his lips puffy and shiny. Your thigh falls off his shoulder as he stands up to capture your lips in a filthy kiss. He tastes like cigarettes, beer and your pussy.

Eddie keeps holding onto your hips as they twitch with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Your eyes feel heavy, your brain mushy and weak.

“My beautiful girl, shit, all mine, y’look so pretty like this baby,” Eddie’s whispering, sneaking little kisses onto your lips in between words. “You wanna get out of here baby? C’mon, let’s get home, yeah?” You nod blearily, going to step forward, but your knees stay locked.

“Eddie,” you whisper, your foggy eyes going wide. “I don’t think I can move my legs.”

You watch Eddie’s brows furrow, and his lips perk up. He stares at your face, all flushed and flustered, and a snort escapes his nose. Soon enough, little giggles are escaping his lips, delirious and endlessly smug.

“Don’t laugh!” You whine, nuzzling your red face into his chest.

Eddie runs a comforting hand down your back as he tamps down his giggles. “Sorry baby, I’m sorry. It’s just, y’know, not many guys can say they’ve literally made their girl cum so hard they couldn’t walk.” You whine again, but Eddie shushes you gently. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna get you home, sweet pea.”

You don’t have time to wonder what he means by that before Eddie reaches down to cup one hand under your knees, the other staying under your back, and lifts you into his arms with a soft grunt. 

“Eddie!” You squeak, but your boyfriend is already walking out towards the club again, paying no mind to the throngs of people still moving around you both. You tuck your burning face into his neck, giggling nearly hysterically, as Eddie whisks you away. You think you’d let him take you anywhere.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson smut #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut

[hotvintagepoll]

Welcome to the HOT AND VINTAGE MOVIE STARS tournament! We are currently on a break between tournaments, having just finished the Hot & Vintage Movie Man Tournament last week. The Hot & Vintage Movie Women Tournament starts next week on February 29th (Leap Year Day) MARCH 2ND. The submission form for the ladies is now closed.

All polls—including ongoing polls, previous rounds, old tournaments, the various shadow brackets, and fun mini polls—can be found in the #hotvintagepoll tag. Every poll in the Hot & Vintage Women Tournament will be tagged with the hot woman in it if you need to search for a hot woman in particular. There have been around 400+ submissions, so Round 1 will probably be posted over the course of a few days.

FAQs:

“I have propaganda for the hot women!” Great! Please don't send or tag me in any hot women propaganda until the poll including that hot lady is posted.

"....but you're posting gifsets of hot ladies?" Yes. As a special treat to myself I get to post a little additional propaganda of my own between tournaments. (Once the tournament begins I am sworn to neutrality and only post the propaganda sent to me.) The gifsets I reblog are not representative of my own views—ie I reblog both my secret favorites and other hot ladies who were submitted numerous times—and are intended just to get us in the Hot Lady spirit™.

“How do I send in hot women propaganda once the tournament starts?” Send me an ask, or reblog the poll and add your propaganda to it. I don’t boost all the propaganda I see or receive, but I try to boost the best of the best.

If you’re submitting propaganda for your hot lady, I don’t accept propaganda that’s from beyond the end of this tournament’s era (ie don’t send me pics of them from after 1970). I also don’t accept them acting in TV shows unless it’s clearly a cameo where they’re playing themselves (ie, no I Love Lucy or Catwoman appearances). I'm more likely to post your propaganda if it's not extremely long.

I don’t post or boost negative propaganda about any hot woman. If you really hate that a certain hot woman is winning, send me positive propaganda for their hot opponent. If you think a hot woman shouldn’t even be included in the tournaments because of scummy things she did in her lifetime, please read my take on it here.

"Can I still submit propaganda for the hot men?" You can, I guess, but it's a bit pointless because there's no tournament for the hot men going on right now, and I won't post it. Toshiro Mifune was crowned winner and every other nominated hot man was sent to the shadow realm. "I'm catching up on the brackets now! How do I find out more about the Hot Men tournament?" You can do a tag search for a specific hot man if you want to see if he was included and all his propaganda, or you can just go into the #hotvintagepoll tag in my archive and dig through the old posts to see everything. I've turned most of the rounds into featured tags in the archive to make it easy to follow the tournament (#round 1, #round 2, etc).

If I see repetitive, trolling, and/or bigoted remarks in the comments, I may block you from this bracket. If you want to point out a hot woman’s flaws or misdemeanors, that’s fine, but if I see consistent bad-faith trolling, you will be blocked.

On that note—if you have an issue with a poll, don't be a dick and I'll try to solve it. If you hate a poll pic, complain AND send me something I could use instead. I'm not going to go hunting for new photos on my own. In general I try to keep this poll fun but I will block if I see thoughtless bitching.

“I KNOW THEY'RE ALL IN THE SHADOW REALM BUT I want to see all the hot men who competed in one place!!” You can find all the round 1 matchups here (thank you @markwatnae!).

“My FAQ isn’t on here :(” send me an ask! I love hearing from you guys—just please check these basics first.

Thank you for being here! Enjoy the tournament.

#new masterpost! #fuck that old woman #hot ladies

[peachdues]

THE GREAT WAR (PART I) — ANNOUNCEMENTS AND CONTENT WARNINGS

Well, this one has been a long time coming, hasn’t it?

My goal is to get Part I completed and published this weekend. It will be roughly 25-26k words in length.

I’d really appreciate it if y’all can read through this before you read Part I. The Great War is very different from my other fics, in terms of both style and the general setting, so I feel it necessary to give some context.

First, The Great War is a non-linear story. This might seem a bit confusing, given that Part I takes place over the course of a little more than a year. However, you’ll likely notice there are some gaps in the story as you read through — these are intentional. While Part I is a chronological telling of Reader and Giyuu’s relationship, Part II features several major flashbacks to events that occur during the timeline of Part I that are not actually shown in Part I. So if you find yourself getting curious about when a character finds out a bit of information, or referenced some past occurrence that you didn’t read — know that it’s intentional, and it will show up in Part II.

Second, Part I of The Great War follows the canon timeline as closely as possible, with a few minor deviations. There are references to multiple canon events in the series, and I tried to follow it as much as I could. Huge shoutout to @/demonslayedher her incredible timeline.

Third, the reason TGW has taken so long is that I tried to be as historically accurate as was feasible to both Japan and its culture. That said, Shinto shrines and the practices of Shrine Maidens in particular were heavily cracked down upon by the Imperial government during the Meiji Era (the era immediately preceding the Taishō period in which Demon Slayer is canonically set). Obviously the reality of Shinto shrines and their practices during that period complicates the setting of TGW, and particularly, the Reader character, so I took some creative liberties. However, I do reference the fact that the Shrine where the Reader trains is not what it once was, and it functions more like a girl’s boarding house/school, where the girls who live there just happen to also be educated in Shinto practices/Shrine keeping.

Fourth, because there are a lot of references to Japanese culture and practices, I will link an addendum for your reference. The most important things to know is that Miko means “Shrine Maiden,” which is why it is used frequently.

Finally, I do want to acknowledge that the Reader is given a slight description — namely, in terms of her hair. It is described as very long, and when discussed from Giyuu’s perspective, he frequently depicts it as “silky.” This is not meant to be exclusive in any way — lots of hair types can be silky. I do make a very conscious effort to avoid using physically describing my Reader inserts (apart from acknowledging their beauty because, guess what? You’re all beautiful!!) But as the story is set in Taisho Era Japan and Reader is a Shrine Maiden, I found it difficult to avoid giving some vague description of her hair — especially given its importance with respect to a certain gift she receives from Giyuu during Part I. Please know that these references come up very sparingly, and again, I do avoid going into greater detail. Beyond that, she is only described as beautiful from Giyuu’s point of view.

Now, onto the content and trigger warnings.

Like most of my works, The Great War contains explicit sexual content, so minors do not interact.

This next warning is not so much centered around Part I, but more for the story in general. TGW is heavily centered around Giyuu attempting to deal with his trauma following the end of the canonical series — and it does feature violence as well as instances of PTSD. I don’t believe anything is too graphic, but it’s just something to keep in mind. That said, his PTSD will not appear in Part I — however, it will be a main focus of the story from Part II, on.

So, here are the warnings for The Great War

CW: explicit sexual content • MDNI • loss of virginity • unprotected sex • virgins being virgins • oral sex (F!receiving) • squirting • fingering • Giyuu is obsessed with Reader’s pleasure • creampies • semi-public sex • tbh they fuck everywhere but the bed • mention of pregnancy • protective Giyuu • possessive Giyuu • Giyuu is a simp for one person and it’s Reader • pregnancy (later)

TW: canon-typical violence • strangulation • PTSD • depictions of trauma • nightmares • some angst • Giyuu struggles with communicating his feelings • brief instance/implication of stalking by a non-canon character • mild description of panic/anxiety

My goal is to have Part I posted this weekend, so here’s to hopefully seeing y’all soon!

#🍑 — announcement #giyuu tomioka #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny giyuu #giyuu x reader #demon slayer fanfic #kny tomioka #tomioka giyū #tomioka giyu x reader #giyuu

[aclowntiny]

Puppy Love- Yunho x Female!Barista!Reader

I haven't forgotten about all my coffee shop stories 😁😁😁 Yunho in his ‘you like jazz?’ era

Word Count: 3536 | Coffee Shop, Fluff | Warnings: too dang fluffy 😝

Yunho’s dream had finally come true. A dog café had opened up within walking distance of work. What a time to be alive! What a lucky walk of the streets on his break, unsure how to spend his rare free time once he had it. Using it for an activity seemed simultaneously gratifying and overwhelming. Time to burn some energy off with some very good boys and girls instead! Some caffeine might also reverse-jitter him back into productivity…or at least into the right headspace to squeeze in an episode of that show he needed to finish.

Beneath an awning of striped lime green and white awaited the door to Leash Love Latte, the lovely windowed building decorated with paint-on art of joyous pups of all breeds, two of which held mugs and one of which was about to devour a bone-topped cupcake. Yunho couldn't help but smile as his eyes scanned the glass, jumping a bit at the noise when he opened the door, but the startlement easily fell into a laugh as he opened the security door once the front one was closed and was met with a barrage of dogs.

"Oh, hi," he giggled as one little papillon practically climbed up his leg, bending down to scoop her up into his arms. Flipping her collar tag, he saw it read 눈. A name meaning Snow made sense- she was a ball of pure white fluff after all.

Carrying her up to the counter, Yunho was met with the sight of an extremely nimble barista practically skating across the café floor to slide a pastry onto the counter and call out its owner’s name, then turn on her heels to catch a drink from the older man who held it out to her and repeat the process. Once that was done, she twirled around to face the counter.

“Sorry about that, just had an order to finish up,” she paused, taking a couple breaths and getting her hair back into place, smile never leaving her face, “oh, Nunie, are you making friends?” Her gaze had dropped to the sweet pup in Yunho’s arms, the nickname and her evident familiarity with the café dogs warming his heart.

“Yep," he agreed with a chuckle, holding her up a bit higher with fatherly pride despite their very recent meeting, "I think she'd have made a ladder of me if she could."

"Well, you are pretty tall," the girl joked.

"I guess that's true! So, what do you recommend here?"

She grinned. "Dog or drink?"

"Drink," Yunho responded, "I don't think I'll get away with any cheating today."

"How does a peanut butter mocha sound?"

"Great," he replied, "I've never had one before!"

Plucking a solid pink, paw-print-dotted mug from some unseen counter alcove, the barista grinned. "It's sort of my specialty."

"She's always trying to hock those!" The older man called out from deeper in the kitchen, offering a devilish grin.

"Hey! At least I have a specialty!" She called back, smiling when he shouted that she was a better barista than him and sliding the mug down the slick metal counter surface before turning back to Yunho. "Sorry, that's my uncle. He's a bit of a jokester. Your name?”

"Yunho. And that's ok. I can see how well you guys get along. So this is a family business, then?"

"Yep," she nodded, "everything I do, I try to do with my family."

Something about those simple words touched Yunho's heart, throwing its beat off even as he lowered himself into a bench, stroking his snowy new friend and laughing as a brown and white Jack Russel terrier and a little grey mutt with a folded ear scrambled up to fill his lap all the way. His gaze darted between them and the young lady behind the counter as she operated all the kitchenware with focused eyes and lightly smiling lips.

This place really was heaven.

~

"Here you go!"

Yunho's attention snapped up from the mutt, Sammy, to meet the eyes of the girl. He hadn't really paid attention to the color of them before, but the lime-and-pink shaded light dangling above his table must have somehow brought it out as she set his mug in front of him a respectable distance from the squirming dogs piled upon his lap.

"What was your name again?" Yunho blurted out before he could help it.

"(y/n)."

"(y/n)," he repeated with a smile, "wonderful. I just felt like I needed to have a name to go with the face."

Her eyes remained on him, though the smile on her face did not fade. Sammy licked at her sleeve, which only made it grow wider, her nose crinkling a bit. A wave of awkwardness crashed over Yunho.

"So, (y/n), you must really like peanut butter." That sounded much better in his head.

She just giggled. “I love it! I was eating a peanut butter cup when I got the idea for the drink.”

“That’s so cool! I have a friend who cooks and that seems hard, let alone designing something new, like I can’t even imagine.”

(y/n) waved a hand before reaching it back down to pet a fluffy spotted Australian shepherd that ran by her feet. “Oh, I bet you could come up with something,” she told him with a smile.

Yunho racked his brain, but beneath the tantalizing chocolate-peanut-butter-coffee-with-a-hint-of-espresso smell, the light of that obnoxiously cute lamp, the warm, wiggling puppy pile on his lap, and the faint, anticipatory flutter of the girl’s eyelashes, not much was floating up coherently. “I can’t think of anything that would be good in coffee,” he finally admitted.

“What about something that would be bad in coffee?”

“All my brain was giving me was fruit loops, so I’d say that.”

(y/n) gave a humored wince. “Ooh, yeah. Though that would make a good milk latte or shake! I could totally work with that!” And with that, she made another of her skate-like drifts across the shop, dodging three dogs darting at her feet as she fell back behind the counter, pulling out a couple appliances and taking notes like a mad scientist.

Well, that wasn’t too bad a response to fruit loops of all things. Patting Sammy, Yunho pulled his steaming mug to his lips, barely feeling the cup’s heat above that in his own sheepish cheeks.

~

A few days after his Leash Love Latte trip, Yunho was out for a walk to clear his head after a very early morning of choreography practice, having rinsed himself off and wanted nothing more than to get out into the sun and breeze, practically melting the industrial lighting out of his skin. Cleansing the sweat off had only been step one.

Veering off the paved walking trail, Yunho crossed over the inclination of a grassy green hill, wandering over the great emerald expanse and dodging the occasional frisbee. Ducking under one that was thrown high enough, even.

The small amount of skin exposed by his t-shirt warmed pleasantly in the moderate day's air as he passed an area surrounded by metal gating that bore a few tied-on signs. Within it, dogs of varying sizes tore across the grass, played tug-of-war, and ran to their owners with new friends in tow. As he got closer, he noticed that one of those owners had a haircut that looked quite familiar, a smile Yunho felt like he’d just been graced with.

It was (y/n)! Carefully undoing the safety gate with a deft motion of his fingers, he lifted the release and entered, immediately dodging dogs as he ran a hand through his hair hoping he’d straightened it. His other hand was already getting thoroughly sniffed, a few licks coming to it before he reclaimed it, giving a bulldog and a border collie some pats as he milled through the park. A mutt- maybe half terrier- ran up to him snuffling with a squeaky toy in its jaws, so Yunho threw it, laughing as it turned into a little spotted streak of lightning. Hopefully its owner was young. And then, turning on his heels, he faced you.

“Oh, hey, (y/n), right?” He leaned forward, resting a hand as casually as he could atop the bench a few feet from him, mock-guessing your name like it hadn’t made a few runs through his head of late. “Didn’t see you there. I’m-”

“Yunho from the café. Fruit loops guy.”

Fruit loops guy. “Yep, that’s me.” He put a hand to his chest. “Fruit loops guy.”

“I’ve been tinkering around with stuff and that idea is something that we might be adding to the menu if my uncle lets me!” She added, grinning as a pup Yunho recognized as Sammy ran up to her, leaning into her offered pets.

“Really? That’s great!”

“Yeah! Should I name it after you?”

“The Yunho? Might confuse some people-”

(y/n) chuckled, wrapping her arms around Sammy to pull him onto her lap. “Yunho, I was kidding.”

“Oh, right, yeah, I knew that. So, uh, taking Sammy to the dog park?”

“Yep,” she nodded, smiling, “I try to take all the adoptables out on an alternating schedule.”

“Oh,” Yunho tilted his head in thought, “the Leash Love Latte dogs are for adoption?”

“Indeed they are. The goal is people live them so much they want to take them home!”

“Guess then they’d really need a doggy bag,” he quipped.

(y/n)’s eyes widened as she burst out with a laugh. “Ok, that’s so perfect, mind if I steal that?”

“Be my guest.”

“I’ll try my best to credit you where I can. Hey, wanna play frisbee with Sammy? It’s practically as big as him, but he loves it.”

Was there even a question? “Of course! Come on, Sammy, let’s go!”

And with that, they both pushed off their respective bench seat and lean, jogging deeper into the park’s grass and dodging a fire hydrant in the ground as they took turns tossing the blue plastic disc (y/n) had ready in her backpack.

~

“Hey, remember the guy who inspired my fruit loops latte?” You called back into the kitchen as you refilled the coffee bean jars up front, dim evening lights of closing time filing Leash Love Latte.

“Tall fellow, right?” You uncle questioned in response.

"Yeah," you nodded, "him. If he comes back, I'm going to get him in the kitchen."

"In the kitchen?" Your uncle's voice raised both in incredulity and response to some barks from your café companions. "I thought you liked him."

"Oh, geez!" Plucking a not-so-wet grey washcloth from your counter, you lobbed it at your uncle and his jokes. "I do. You think I'd let any loser with a dazzling smile into my laboratory?"

The washcloth connected with your uncle's shoulder, breaking his face into a grin as he shook it into his hand and started wiping the kitchen surface with it. "Ugh, save the sappy crap for him, huh? What are you even going to make him do? A day of free labor?"

"No," you giggled, leaning on the shining metal of your counterspace, "I think he has better ideas than he gives himself credit for. I'm just going to let him try making whatever he wants."

"As long as you guys clean up after yourselves," your uncle teases you, giving you a fond smile.

"Of course we will," you reply with a joyous look of your own, anticipation coursing through you as you imagined all the things you could come up with on your quest for a new menu item...and maybe something else new for you.

~

"Get in the kitchen with you? Me?" Yunho looked at you with eyes wide, holding little Nun a bit tighter in his hands in startlement as if you'd suggested he set his pants on fire.

"Well, I wasn't exactly asking your invisible twin brother there," you teased, clicking the pen in your hand open, then closed again, as you glanced over his shoulder.

He turned his head that way too like there'd suddenly be someone there. There obviously was not. "Alright, point taken. You liked the cereal lattes that much, huh?"

That wasn't what I liked most, you wanted to say. You leaned a bit further out from behind the register. "Something like that. I think it would be fun! Don't you? We don't have to make something good, that'll just be a bonus!"

Yunho's smile returned as yours spread out, and he bent over and gently placed the little fluffball he'd been holding back on the floor, where she stood at his feet, sniffing Cherry, a black chihuahua. "I don't think it'll be fun, (y/n)..."

Your expression stiffened a bit, eyebrows raising to urge his trailed-off sentence on.

"I know it will be! Let's do it! As long as you're allowed to do this, of course."

And then you were smiling again, heart beating in anticipation. You were going to get this dog-loving man and his silly innocent brain in your life no matter what it took.

"Cleared with the boss man and all. Let's make something out of this dead workday!"

Yunho laughed at that, accepting the hand you held out, beckoning him into the sacred space behind the counter, aka your drink and treat lab.

"So," you grinned, folding both your hands under your chin, "wanna make a drink or bake something?"

"Why don't we bake?" Yunho replies, gaze breaking from yours in thought. "Hmm, what's a good dessert to go with a drink? Shortcake?"

"Like strawberry shortcake?"

"Yeah, but why is shortcake always strawberry? Why can't it be any other fruit?"

You shrugged, feeling your expression smugly egg him on. "Why can't it? What do you have in mind?"

"Have you ever seen those candied melons? What about melon shortcake? I bet no one's done that before," Yunho answered before pausing for a couple ticks of Leash Love Latte's dangly-tail dog-in-a-teacup wall clock, "or is that gross?"

Crossing further into the kitchen, you pulled open a silver cabinet and turned back to him. "Only one way to find out."

He shuffled into the kitchen beside you, bouncing on his heels. “Do you have a shortcake recipe?”

“I do indeed,” you said with a grin, taking an apron off the peg on the kitchen wall and handing it his way.

You set to work prepping and measuring the wet ingredients while Yunho took on the dry, the most prominent of which was the flour. Shortcake, you reminded him, wasn’t as sweet as a regular cake, so that seemingly small amount of sugar was in fact correct.

It all went nearly without a hitch, only a small chunk of butter plopping onto the silvery counter, which you quickly twirled around to wipe squeaky clean again. Yunho was doing great at sifting everything together, almost as if he’d done it before.

Well, until the last scoop of flour, that is. The last one hung just wrong, dropping from the measuring cup in Yunho’s hand and sliding down the edge of the mesh strainer, bursting in a cloud of curling pure white dust upon the counter, his apron, and even on the side of your pant leg.

"Oh my gosh, (y/n), I'm so sorry!" Yunho immediately exclaimed, holding his hands out like he didn't trust them anymore.

"Don't worry about it," you replied with a smile and a flippant gesture, "it won't be the first or the last time that happens in here. Besides, in Hallmark movies all things like this do is start a cheeky flour fight."

Yunho glanced down helplessly at his apron and the counter. "Wouldn't that just make it worse?"

"Oh, absolutely," you nod, "but if you just twirl it off your apron, you'll get a pretty cloud effect."

Expectation? A little shimmy. Reality? Yunho executing a perfect showman's leaping twirl, the move indeed enhanced by a puff surrounding him as the powder shook off of him and drifted down to the kitchen tile.

You might've been gaping, but it quickly faded into a smile as you drifted past him in search of a rolling pin. "Alright, so you're, like, an expert dancer, that's totally normal and not extremely cool."

"Oh, I'm no expert. I-I just dance for a living," he replied with a shy grin and darting gaze.

"I hate to break this to you," you leaned on the counter in front of him, rolling pin in hand and awe on your face, "but that makes you an expert. Certainly more than me. You should be there one of the many times I forget a step of the macarena."

Yunho's hands started drifting around in the general airspace above his shoulders, head, and hips. "Which part?"

All you could do was giggle and hold the rolling pin up in your hand, head shaking. "Have you ever kneaded and rolled dough before?" He had good dough hands. Certainly more proportional to the dough than yours!

~

"We did it, (y/n)! We made shortcake!" Practically floating above the tile, Yunho high-fived you after you set the tray down.

While your creation baked, the two of you had ditched your aprons and crossed the threshold back into adoptable territory to absolutely ruin all your kitchen-sanitary hands on the hurricane of dogs that surged after you, leaping into your arms like the sweetest of crests crashing onto your jean-clad knees.

This time you took Nun and Yunho had Mickey the Australian shepherd, who plopped right down on the café tile with his head in Yunho's now-seated lap. You held your fluffy ball of wonder close to your chest and she practically melted in, little black boba eyes fluttering contentedly shut.

Both of you whined how it was torture and apologized to the dogs as if it was a coordinated act as you waved and backed into the kitchen with four remorseful eyes on the adoptable crowd, and that was how the shortcake was procured.

Candying the watermelon went off without a hitch. Well, mostly. While a welcome strength boost to cut the honeydews, Yunho had you half giggling, half protectively extending an arm as he yelped at the bubbling sugar boiling in the pot. For that, you bid him mix the cream while you got the fruit ready.

More time with the adoptables as the candy set, and then you were stacking cake, cream, and shining, syrupy melon chunks into a light yellow-and-green treat topped with some melon balls and classic rosettes.

"It's beautiful," you congratulated Yunho with a wide smile.

"Better than the fruit loop latte idea?"

You just nodded as the sound of your business's door closing rang our behind you. "And here's our proof coming!" You clapped, rushing out of the kitchen in the bouncing dance of a barista on a mission. "Uncle, will you try our dessert please? Yunho and I worked really hard on it," you plead as you dragged your amused uncle into your workspace, one arm linked with his and the other gesturing with a flourish toward the lovely shortcake and your lovely fellow baker, who immediately bent his legs and struck an introductory pose at it himself.

"I can tell. This looks great, you two," your uncle told you, pride clear in his voice as much as on his face as he ruffled your hair with his free hand.

Wiggling gently out of your grip, he accepted the proffered fork from Yunho and reached over to dig into the plated treat you'd decorated on the counter, which of course you'd wiped down before he could see the mess you made. Didn't hurt to butter up the person trying your new innovation, right?

Your uncle's eyebrows shot up the moment the forkful of your shortcake entered his mouth, both you and Yunho leaping up as if watching the pinnacle of a photo-finish race.

"Well, how is it?" You burst out, practically wiggling under the suspense.

"Yes, sir," Yunho added, straightening the apron he'd put back on, "is it good enough to go on the menu?"

"It's very good, son," your uncle began, eliciting a loud cheer from you two and a resonant, stingingly strong high-five of elation to boot.

"But," he added, both of you inhaling at his next words, eyes not even leaving him when an audible, surely adorable play-wrestle broke out among the adoptables, "if you want this on the menu, there's one condition."

"Wh- what's that? Er, sir?" Yunho stiffened under your uncle's serious gaze.

Short-lived as it was; the expression soon melted into your beloved joker's smile of mischief. "You have to take my niece on a date."

"Uncle, I-" You began to protest, heat rising to your cheeks faster than any oven or milk steamer could preheat.

"Yes, sir," Yunho nodded, sparing you a quick glance and a small wave as if he'd forgotten you were there, "that's a much greater reward than the menu spot."

His smile turned almost into something you'd see on a lovesick cartoon, as if your heart hadn't flipped hard enough in the past few minutes or even from the first time he walked in and you saw him being gentle with the adoptables.

What could you say? Guess it was puppy love.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #yunho #yunho x reader #yunho x female reader #female reader #coffee shop au #fluff #barista!reader

[darkfire359]

What could have been: sympathizing with Ed in season 2

I've talked before about how much I love Ed and all his complexity. I've written more fanfic about him and Izzy than any other characters, in my entire history of fandom. And unlike many people, I wasn't unprepared for the dark direction his arc took in season 2; I wanted him to commit MORE atrocities, and I happily made comparisons between him and another one of my favorite characters, Hannibal Lector.

But one of the key things I wanted after he committed atrocities was for him to feel bad about it. And I thought we'd see that! After all, S1 Ed was so tormented about killing his dad (who was abusive and violent towards) him that he never killed (directly) again! He was so broken up about trying to kill Stede in s1e6 that he ended up crying in a bathtub. Just like he cried in the window sill after committing all the kraken horrors in s1e10. It seemed like this was a guy scared of his own inner darkness, convinced he was a monster, who would go around saying things like "I'm not a good person" and "You were always going to realize who I am."

And so even when s2 went darker than anyone expected—when he cut off more of Izzy's toes, and shot him in the leg, and made crewmen fight to the death for experiencing love, and sailed the entire ship into a storm to murder-suicide his crew—I was still ready to accept all that moral ambiguity and give him a hug afterwards. Because of course, I figured that after Ed was brought out of that dark place and those suicidal urges, he would feel horrible remorse. How could he not?

I was looking forward to seeing him break down crying, convinced he was an irredeemable, unforgivable monster. (Which of course, would make it all the more touching when people inevitably did forgive him, and when he did redeem himself). Maybe Ed would even go too far with trying to atone, like in Mercy, one of my favorite post-s1 fics. Probably, I figured, Ed's quest for redemption would be one of the main themes in the second half of season 2.

So it was strange to watch e4, when Ed looked nothing but annoyed at everyone for chaining him up and banishing him, and then he went to hang out with his old friends like he'd done nothing wrong. When after the crew unanimously voted him out, Stede brought him back to the ship literally that same evening, and Ed saw no problem with that. Okay... maybe he's still processing?

Then e5 came, and that episode was about Ed's redemption. Yay! Except... Ed didn't seem to care? Other people made him wear the bag and the bell. He asked how long it'd take people to get over it, guessing "like a day." He gave an influencer-esque non-apology to the crew. He said "I took a man's leg" rather than calling Izzy by name. He literally doesn't remember the circumstances of pushing Lucius off the boat. He does ultimately give a real apology to Fang—for tormenting him years ago, rather than anything from his actual kraken era. I love e5 for the Izzy+Stede dynamic, but watching Ed be an unrepentant asshole here is painful. There is nothing about this that convinces me Ed wouldn't slide right back to being evil if Stede were to leave again.

And the thing is, it didn't have to be like this! We could have gotten Ed breaking down crying with guilt like in s1e6, and it would have made him much more sympathetic—not to mention the fact that Ed really is just an adorable cryer. Alternatively, we could have had some real deep diving about why Ed never apologizes (is he afraid of seeming weak?) or why he's so uncaring about others' pain (has he seen too many friends die over the years, to the point of going numb?)

By episode 6, it seems like most characters have moved on. Stede says something about Ed turning poison into positivity, which feels completely unearned. He pays for the party—but he'd previously tried to make the crew throw their cut of the loot into the ocean. He makes some attempts to best Ned and protect Stede, but Stede ends up saving the crew instead—from a pirate who only showed up in the first place because Ed was intentionally trying to piss him off. Ed is sad that Stede kills someone, and this would be a great time to again make Ed sympathetic! To have him talk about how he doesn't want that for Stede, because his own violence has weighed on him so deeply. But nope.

E6 does see Ed actually apologize to Izzy—and he's terrible at it. He's just like, "Sorry about your leg," makes no eye contact, and flees immediately afterwards. We do see some hints that this shitty apology isn't really indicative of Ed's true feelings, given how he has those flashbacks to the scenes of hurting Izzy seemingly haunting him; but it's very brief. It would be a great time to address Ed's horrific tendency towards conflict-aversion and avoiding awkward conversations in relationships—the same tendency that made s1 Ed never inform Izzy that the plan to kill Stede and the Revenge crew had changed. This would be another great opportunity to help us sympathize with Ed again—to have us see how it's not that he doesn't want to communicate these things, it's that these conversations are terribly stressful and anxiety-inducing for him. But nah, why would OFMD need to include those things for Ed?

E7 happens, and still nothing. If anything, there was a great opportunity for Ed to at least show himself to be a kind person to Stede—maybe nobly stepping in to save the day, even though he's annoyed that Stede's getting all this attention now. You know, like Stede did for him back in s1e5, when the situation was reversed. But nope, Ed runs off to be a fisherman, not having learned any of the earlier season's lessons about whims. He only stops being a fisherman because he's bad at it.

I was still hoping for something big in e8–some huge selfless, gesture that Ed would do to cover for all of his inability to do the little gestures. Ed is good at grand gestures! Swimming back to the ship after he left, then taking the Act of Grace in s1 was HUGE. Very selfless, very sweet! He could have done something like that for Izzy, Lucius, and the traumatized crew. Some kind of heroic gesture to help others more than himself. But nope. In some sense, Izzy dying is one of the greatest indications of Ed's wasted potential, because we narratively had a great opportunity for Ed to be able to save someone... but he didn't.

(Admittedly, Ed is not a complete dick here—he helps Izzy when he's limping, he says some genuinely apologetic stuff when Izzy's dying, and he finally gives Izzy his attention and care. But then after the funeral, he's still like "Well, that's that.")

It's so frustrating. It's not that I don't want to like Ed, or that I don't want to sympathize with him. I really, REALLY do! I don't even need Ed to successfully do anything to earn forgiveness! I'd take Ed trying and failing. I'd take him wanting to try, but being so convinced of his monstrousness that he never makes the attempt. But give me something. Anything other than the unexamined apathy that he has so much of the time.

The thing is, s2 lost the ability for Ed's mistreatment of people to be just another "of course he's violent, he's a pirate" quirk. They were pretty explicit about how abusive Ed was (Jim's comment in e1, the joke in e4 people assumed Ed had hit Stede) and how much he traumatized people (Lucius and the whole crew very clearly have PTSD in episodes 4 and 5). This is serious stuff, which he did to other main characters, which is going to make a lot of viewers look at him pretty harshly.

And that's manageable—Hannibal Lector managed to be most textbook-abusive asshole in the world, committing atrocities and generally being unrepentant left and right, and viewers STILL found him lovable and sympathetic. You can do that! But you need to:

a. make it clear that anyone with the relevant information calls them out for being awful, even multiple episodes later

b. make it clear that they care deeply and genuinely about their wronged loved ones

c. make them willing to actually make REAL sacrifices

I watched so many people start to dislike or outright hate Ed in season 2. It made me really sad. But I couldn't blame them for feeling that way. For all that Ed is supposedly one of the two protagonists in OFMD—a character whose mistakes should be the most understandable, whose mental state should be the most resonant—the show seemed to entirely drop the ball on writing him as such.

#edward teach #ofmd critical #ofmd season 2 #ofmd season 2 spoilers #ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #arguably the writers' mistake with Izzy is easier to fix in fanfiction #just undo the last 10 minutes #but now I feel like Ed fics after s2 have to fix huge chunks of his characterization #I also think it'd be more reasonable to make Ed not give a shit about the crew if the show just like... admitted that directly? #but we've got Stede making comments about Ed turning poison into positivity #we've got Izzy saying the crew loves Ed and is his family #and while it's not OOC for either of them to just be delusional and overprojecting their own love for Ed #it's weirdly unexamined #same thing with Ed's “I don't kill people thing” after he murders British officers left and right in s2e8 #was Ed's whole talk with Stede in s1e6 just a lie? #obviously Ed was stretching definitions / using it as a coping mechanism but I thought he was at least telling the truth as he saw it

[bonefall]

could fern leaf be a former park cat or something that clear sky sends to spy on tall shadow & then defects? or, since she’s important to the rescue of star flower in the books, maybe she could be involved with one-eye somehow…? even though star flower is totally different now, so she doesn’t really Need rescuing from any situation she’s in that you’ve talked about so far. guess it depends on which aspects of the character best serve the story, and whether she would work better as part of DOTC proper or thunder’s SE

i also genuinely can’t remember if bb!clear sky’s original M.O. for his group is Tribe Cats Only, or if he is willing to take in anyone who kisses his ass enough. could make sense if fern leaf (or more accurately, any tom willing to vouch for her) appeals to clear sky enough. hell, maybe she could be a mole on one-eye’s behalf instead?

(Follow up ask to this post)

The new rub to the formation of the groups in BB is that there is two distinct cultures in the forest: Park Cats and Tribe Cats. They're divided by a language barrier, with the Park Cats speaking Parkmew and the Tribe cats speaking what we now call Old Tribemew.

So Clear Sky doesn't have the same "options" like canon. These ""rogues"" don't speak his language and he simply would not learn even if the chance was offered to him. It doesn't even really cross his mind that these are full people to reach out to; in his mind they're intruders. The flavor of bigotry in the modern era hasn't quite evolved yet, so he has the most straightforward kind of xenophobia you can imagine.

He only starts changing his mind after the First Battle, after his revelation, when he's back on his bullshit in Thunderstar's Justice. In my head it's kind of like... a mockery of Thunder Storm's way of life, that allowed him to live in defiance of him for so long. "See, now I do what you do. Since Gray Wing approved of you so much." kinda thing

There's two park cat groups; The River Kingdom, and The Wind Coalition.

The first conflict the Sun Trail Pioneers run into is with WindCo up on the moor, who chases them down into the forest! The Park cats who lived in the forest weren't united, just various individuals that had little "homestead" territories.

The conflicts with them start after the Shadow/Sky split that follows the death of Jagged Peak. Shadow's Clan moved eastward into the caves at Snakerocks, where no one bothered them, but Sky's Clan started getting hostile towards the little homesteads and pushing cats westward, back to the River Kingdom.

SO with that recap out of the way...

I have two and a half-ish cats already that I'm heavily interested in using to turn on Clear Sky for Thunder's Clan. So I'm not sure how to slot Fern Leaf in there.

1: Snake. Snake is the only cat in-canon who said that maybe Clear Sky shouldn't be their leader after letting One Eye into the Clan against all warnings, and then he gets DOGPILED for it, and the very next book shoves him into the arms of Slash to undermine the fact that they accidentally gave him a good fucking point.

I'm RIDICULOUSLY fond of him because of this. I love him out of spite. I've spoken before about how I plan for him to be a Tribe-descended cat, and a lot of that is because I want to keep his goon roles serving Clear Sky. One of which is that he is going to badly injure Sunlit Frost in the First Battle.

So thinking about it... it makes the most sense for Snake to turn on Clear Sky in Thunderstar's Justice. Still unsure when. But if I have any roles where a cat needs to get help, stop a battle, or call Clear Sky out for making a really bad decision, it's gotta be him.

I'll keep him in my hand for a while; this feels like a piece that will fall into place.

I'm also unsure of what family he's going into. I keep waffling on it. I'm leaning towards the Claw family and possibly the son of Fox, since he's going to be living a bit longer. He's going to be about the same age as Thunder Storm, maybe a bit older.

2: Red Claw Since Acorn Fur is now Acorn Swoop, and she's not nonsensically going to go join the guy who killed both of her parents because it would be too sad to go home where they're not alive, her love interest has to end up in Thunder's Clan.

I'm already pretty committed to making Petal into Petal Claw and Fox into Fox Claw, so it follows that Red Claw would be in the family. Thinking about it, maybe Red should be the son of Fox instead...

Especially because he could defect earlier. Moth Flight's Vision is totally overhauled anyway and I'm planning to shift a lot of the original plot to something for another character anyway...

Plus, enemies-to-lovers is fun and I haven't really had a chance to do it yet. Acorn Swoop is absolutely the kind of punk who would nab one of her worst enemy's best soldiers, and the type of nerd who would frame it like her biggest catch yet.

("OI THUNDER!! LOOKIE WHAT THE CAT DRAGGED IN")

And most relevantly... this is leaving Fern Leaf's backstory up in the air. Him leading a dog pack into the heart of camp and getting Beech and Frog killed is what kicked off the Bunny Bones plot of the original MFV that I like so much, and I feel like it's an important part of Fern Leaf.

So not only am I here planning Red Claw as a high priority for being someone to turn against Clear Sky, but also, he complicates Fern Leaf a bit.

Maybe I should step back a bit on the two and start from scratch with them, and replace their backstories with new ones that preserve the "emotional core." I'll have to think about it.

That 1/2 Cat: Alder or Birch The kits that are stolen from Misty, that queen who was murdered by Clear Sky and whose kits are given to Petal. In BB, that's something I want to examine for how fucked up it is. It becomes the basis of Kit Stealing later, an awful practice that the Clans will struggle with for many generations.

These ones are SUPER important, but I say 1/2 because it doesn't have to be Thunder's Clan they turn for. But I do want one of them to eventually learn their origin, and end up finding their family in River Kingdom or the Wind Coalition.

I mention them because I keep going back and forth on if they're going to get combined with other characters. Basically imagine me next to a big conspiracy chart and I'm connecting a big red line between possible plot threads back to Fern Leaf. Maybe her? Maybe she can be one of the stolen kits?

I could even make it so Birch is actually an older sibling, or a half-sibling, or one from the same litter who was saved... maybe even end up making it a litter of 4. Slots in well with her canon story, too, where she mentions her mother abandoned her.

The truth can be that it was a lie. Her mother didn't abandon her. One of them was murdered and the other was chased off.

And, of course, I could save her to be a "One Eye Cultist." None of my drafts so far have brought in any extra followers of One Eye who will follow him from place-to-place besides Star Flower herself. I would like to add some, and that's a fine place for Fern Leaf, but somehow I feel like I can do her better.

#better bones au #BB!DOTC #BB!Fern Leaf #also for the record I am both Very sorry and Not sorry that-- #--Acorn Swoop ended up changing so much from her mild-toned canon counterpart lmaooo #My lover showed me a clip of a british TV show with a character called Vyvyan ranting about bad sitcoms #RIGHT around the time I first designed her #Because I was yelling about the original arc and partner was like ''this is u (affectionate)'' #And somehow that evolved into an inside joke about Acorn Swoop and now I cannot unhear it #''being hungry makes me lose my easygoing approach to living with other cats'' #(THROWS A MOLOTOV AT SKY'S CLAN)

[coffee-master]

What would Kai do in season 3 with the blackout and Nindroids ? I guess he would have a different story than Nya, who had a love triangle problem with Cole and Jay

Ok so first of all- OMG PEOPLE ARE ASKING ABOUT MY AU- THIS IS HAPPENING-!! I'm very excited!!!!

Now to the main point.

In the reboot season, everything would be a little diffrent. I mentioned some things about it on the post about the relationships Jaya & lavashipping in this au here:

But this is only lightly mentioned, so here's more:

In this au Kai would have similar role like canon Nya, but with some differences.

The season begins with the fact "the ninja era is over" and ninjas now are teachers for the kids. They are about to go on a school trip to Borg Industries with the children, but before that could happened, when Cole and Kai are coincidently alone in the classroom, Cole decided to take a shot and ask Kai on a date.

It'd be a little awkward, since Cole has never asked anyone on a date before or was interesed in romantic topic in general. Meanwhile Kai would be taken aback by his question, because he hadn't expeceted that comming. Kai didn't even think that Cole was interesed in him.

However, in the end Kai would agree with a smile, calming the earth ninja down.

Later in the Borg's Industrie as Pixal asked to go to the hundredth floor ninja, Kai at the last moment grabs his sister's hand and asks her to go with him because he wants to discuss something with her.

Even if Kai was good at hiding things and acting cool- He was a little nervous about this date and wated to ask his sister discretly for some advice.

Nya at first reluctantly agreed, but then noticed that something was going on and was curious.

So Sensei Wu, Kai & Nya go together for a tour around the factory. Nya is pretty much interested in the technology, while Kai is thinking how to approach the subject, without her sister finding out about this whole thing.

Eventually they come across this crush-seeking machine and the kids talk Nya into using it and when the result comes everyone is schocked, but Nya doesn't take the result too seriously.

Here her relationship in much better and based on common experiences and trust, and she has is no doubt about it.

The fire master actually takes this more like a joke.

Everyone: *looks shocked at the result*

Nya: Hah, clearly this mashine is broken.

Nya: Cole is only interested in cake.

Kai: ...well actually-

Nya: Hm?

Kai: He kinda asked me on a date today.

Nya: ...

Nya: He what?

After that they are attacked by the machines and ect. and later the whole team meets again. The boy give Nya her new costume and weapoon and later they go to the sensei Garmadon.

There's a lot of fighting, which is practically no different from canon.

Then later on the landfill while fixing Pixal, the result information from the matching-machine comes to light and everyone finds out about the result.

Jay is very concerned about this information, but he does not lash out in anger at Cole. He knows that Cole wouldn't do anything bad and even has crush on Nya's brother, but is still bothered by the result.

Like an inteligente mashine says there's better a match for your girlfriend than you.

That information is just really messing with Jay's head and giving him self-doubts. So during their mission Jay is nervous and wants to prove at all costs that he is better than Cole.

Nya almost immediately noticed that and is both worried and irritated by Jay's behaviour. So after having enough of this nonsense and finding a moment of peace she talks with him.

Nya tires to get this stupid thought out of his head and says that it was dumb of him to even think, that he's not enogh.

In the end everything comes back to normal and nothing too serious happened with their relationship.

Then next fights took place and Kai tries his best to help others, even if he is not very comfortable in the technological world.

Here Kai is also a Samurai X despite lack of engineering skills that Nya has, but but how it happened is another story-

There was not much time for Cole & Kai to interract and after Zane's sacrifice in the end never went on that date.

-----

That's pretty much season 3. I've gotten so many questions about this au lately, I'll try to answer them as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, I'm often busy and write slowly, but I'll do my best!

[Siblings elemental change AU]

First | More about AU | Previous | Next

#lego ninjago #ninjago #ask #answered #kai ninjago #siblings elemental change #ninjago incorrect quotes #master of water kai #master of fire nya #question #ask tumblr #lavashipping #jaya #kai smith #cole brookstone #ninjago cole #ninjago kai #nya smith #petrichorshipping #kai x cole

[shimmerwindow]

I Never Really

Part Eight

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: Alcohol use, mention of marijuana, brief mention of cocaine (not consumed by any main characters), smut (18+ only)

Sexual content: choking, fingering, oral (f rec), unsafe sex, plain ol' fuckin, and of course I would be lost without a creampie

Playlist | Masterlist

If the last party had been a bit overwhelming, then this party could be described as sensory hell. Within only a few seconds of being there, you saw a group of zombies playing beer pong in the front yard, and two Sesame Street characters doing cocaine off the kitchen table. You were a bit nervous, sticking close to Sam’s side as he guided you into the house. His brothers stood in the living room, a drink in each of their hands, chatting happily with the group assembled out there.

“Sammy boy!” Jake exclaimed upon seeing the two of you, running over to give both of you a hug. He was dressed as a pirate, the pieces of his costume almost a bit too accurate, like he’d stepped out of a different era. When he wrapped his arms around you, you were hit with that familiar scent, memories of the last party rushing back to your head.

He looked you over, trailing his eyes over your figure the same way he’d done the first time you met him. It made something inside you ache, something you couldn’t quite describe. He caught your eyes and you noticed he’d put on eyeliner, just a bit, just enough to make his gaze feel even more piercing.

Josh followed close behind, pulling you into a tight hug. “You look incredible, sunshine. My lord.” He looked you up and down, gesturing at you with a point of his finger. “Doesn't she look amazing?” He asked, looking between Jake and Danny, who had come over to join you.

“Quite beautiful. Very angelic,” Jake said.

“You look outstanding. None of these guys deserve to see it,” Danny joked with a whisper, cupping a hand to the side of his mouth like he was telling you a secret.

A blush rose into your cheeks, and you shook your head. “I just…wanted to look nice. And you guys all look awesome.”

Josh was dressed in a classic hippie getup, with a pair of huge sunglasses, flared pants, and a vest over his otherwise bare chest. Danny was dressed as a cowboy, and he’d gone all-in on the fit, cowboy boots and all. He had on a hat that looked far too nice for a Halloween outfit.

“Is that your hat?” You asked.

He tipped the brim at you, doing a goofy bow with one hand on the comically large belt buckle he was wearing. “Darn tootin’, little miss. Got it alongside the boots a few years ago.”

You placed a hand over your heart, returning the mock accent he’d put on. “Oh, my. What a gentleman you are!”

Jake offered to grab you and Sam a drink, and you happily accepted, following him into the kitchen while Sam took a seat in the living room with the other two.

“So, who are you trying to impress? Or make jealous?” Jake asked, taking the top off of a bottle of tequila.

“I’m sorry?”

He gestured towards you. “The costume. You’re the hottest one here, no contest. Did you get your heart broken recently?”

“I…no. Well…” You watched his hands as he poured you a drink that would certainly be too strong. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I won’t pry. Unless you want me to.” He handed you your drink, and started making another one.

You took a cautious sip, pleasantly surprised. You could barely taste the alcohol. “This is good.”

“Thank you. My secret recipe.” He finished his own drink, swirling it around in his hand for a moment while he leaned against the counter to face you. “I’m guessing you made up with Sam?”

You nodded. “He apologized. He explained how–” You cut yourself off. You definitely shouldn’t repeat his explanation to Jake, of all people. “He just explained why he was mad. But it’s all okay now.”

“That look in your eye,” he pointed at you, squinting his eyes. “You’re still mad at him, aren’t you?”

It was genuinely annoying how well Jake could see right through you. Like he was reaching into your brain and stealing your thoughts. It almost felt violating, the way he seemed to always just know.

“A little.”

“Because of that fight?”

You hesitated for a moment too long. “Yeah.”

He gave you a knowing smile. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“So what was his excuse?” He eyed you over the rim of his cup as he took a swig.

“I don’t want to get into it, honestly.”

“I won’t push. Just want to make sure you’re alright.” He was being genuine, that much you could tell for certain.

“I appreciate that, Jake. I really do.”

He gave you a smile, the kind that made you a bit weak in the knees, and gestured towards the living room. Sam and Danny were deep in conversation on the mantle of the fireplace, and Josh was in the corner chatting up some group of people you didn’t recognize. The two of you took a seat on the couch, and you made yourself small in the corner against the arm rest, your legs tucked under you.

Jake was a good talker. He made worthwhile conversation, even though you weren’t entirely in the mood to talk about anything. He asked a lot of questions, and the two of you would spiral off into a tangent regarding that question. At one point, he mentioned the band, the one Sam had said they were trying to drag him into.

“Do you guys have a name?” You asked.

He shook his head. “It's not serious enough for that, not yet. I want a name to come organically, when it’s time.”

“Makes sense. It would suck to pick a name and want to change it later.”

“Exactly.” He flicked his finger against one of your wings, sending it bouncing back and forth. “You should come to one of our little shows some time.”

“Where at?”

“We just play out of the garage, or back there, typically.” He gestured to the back of the house.

“Are you any good?” You smirked.

He laughed a bit, then gave you a wide-eyed, serious look. “The best.”

“Text me about it some time. I’d love to come, if I’ve got some free time on my hands that day.”

“I will,” you smiled.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence, and you listened in to the conversations around the room. Sam’s voice reached your ears first, the sound of it so familiar and enjoyable that you seemed to pick it out of the crowd easily.

“She’s great.” He was still talking to Danny.

“You don’t sound very excited.” Danny's voice was harder to pick out, but you could hear it nonetheless.

“Nah, man, I was with her the other night. She’s a really sweet girl.”

Your skin prickled and your fingers tensed up. She. Her.

“She’s gorgeous,” he went on.

“Are you guys together, or what?”

“Not yet.”

You’d heard enough. Not yet. Those two words felt like a gunshot straight to your chest. You could barely hear Jake over the noise of your thoughts as he prodded you with a quiet “Hey.”

You didn’t respond.

“Hey.” He called your name, placing a gentle touch on your arm that finally snapped you out of your trance.

You blinked at him a few times, your fingers white-knuckled on the armrest of the couch.

“You okay?” He looked at you with genuine concern.

“Yeah, I just…” you cleared your throat. “I think I need another drink.”

“Not a problem. Follow me.”

You could feel Sam’s eyes burning a hole in the back of your head as you walked away with Jake, back into the kitchen, where he mixed you up another drink.

“Stronger this time,” he warned, handing it to you.

“Thanks. I need it.”

“Listen, sweetheart. What's going on with you?”

You shook your head. “I already said I don't want to get into it. Just exhausted, that’s all.”

“Well, letting it fester doesn’t seem to be doing you any favors.” He pinched one of your wings between his fingers and pulled at it. “Come here.”

He led you out the back door, and the two of you took a seat around the fire. He slid his chair across the grass as close to yours as it would go. “I can keep a secret, if that’s what you need. Just talk to me.”

“Jake…” This was only the second time you’d interacted with him. You weren’t ready to open up about anything to him – at least, not in your partially-sober mental state. “I appreciate you worrying about me. I really do. But I can't get into specifics with you.”

He toyed with the ruffled sleeves of his shirt. “Then be vague.”

“Well,” you sighed. “Do you ever just feel like everything is crashing down around you all at once?”

He nodded. “I know the feeling quite well.”

“That’s just kind of where I’m at right now.” He was basically a stranger to you, but you couldn’t help but open up just a bit around him. He radiated an aura that made you feel seen and understood, and the way he was apparently able to read your mind lent greatly to that feeling.

“I don’t want to overstep, but you know you can come to any of us about anything. These guys–” he gestured at the house. “They care. I care. Sam, especially. He really–”

“He is the issue,” you blurted out, cutting him off.

Jake shut his mouth, rocking his chair back and looking into the fire, processing your outburst. “So…” he trailed off, clearly not sure how to proceed.

“I just can’t figure him out.”

“You did only just meet him a month ago,” Jake countered. “Just give it some time. Don't let one fight taint your entire image of him.”

You were quickly painting yourself into a corner with this line of discussion. You couldn't exactly tell him why you were upset, without a full declaration of your love for Sam. “You’re right.”

“He’s smart. Smarter than anyone else I know. Guys like that can be a bit confusing.” He gave you a small smile. “Just let it go, whatever you’re still mad at him about. Your whole world doesn’t have to fall apart over one argument.”

You wished that this was something so simple, something you could just let go of.

“You need a sippy cup for that?” He pointed at the drink in your hand, still mostly full.

“Yeah, actually,” you giggled. “A princess crown too.”

For just a little while, Jake was able to make you forget all about the pain that still throbbed in your heart. Your typical worries washed away with every sip of the drinks he made you as the minutes turned into hours. You watched as all types of ghouls, monsters, and characters shuffled around the fire. The occasional couple in matching outfits would sometimes come by, and you had to avert your eyes every time, your mind drifting to the other half of your angel-devil getup that was wandering around the house somewhere.

Sam made an appearance at one point, sitting right next to you. Jake gave him a side-eyed look, glancing between you and him a few times, but he kept his mouth shut. You were a bit nervous he would leave the two of you alone. You weren’t sure you could handle that right now. Just looking into Sam’s eyes was enough, you didn’t want any more than that. He could sense it, you were certain. Something had shifted, and the air between you was thicker now. Conversation between the two of you was brief and clipped.

When he finally walked off with some guys you’d never seen before, things felt different. Jake was gazing at you intensely, giving you that same look he’d given you at the first party. Looking at you like he could eat you alive.

“You know,” he began, leaning a bit closer to you. “We never finished our conversation from the other week.”

You wracked your brain trying to recall what he was talking about, visibly lost.

“So would you be mad if I was?”

His words seemed like complete gibberish at first. But when he raked his eyes over your body, it came rushing back in like a tide, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach and your legs crossing a little tighter. That had been his response when you’d asked him if he was flirting with you.

“Not at all.” You said it with no hesitation, not a doubt in your mind. He was enchanting in a way you couldn’t describe even with a thousand metaphors.

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that reminded you deeply of a certain someone. If you couldn’t have him, then you’d take the next best thing. The thought felt evil, dirty, sickening, even. That you were even considering the one thing you knew would hurt him more than anything else…it wasn't like you.

As if right on cue, the yard became eerily silent. Something had drawn the crowd inside for now, and it was just the two of you, a group quietly passing a joint in the opposite corner of the yard, and the crackling of the fire. His hand came to rest on your thigh, just below where the stockings were wrapped in a neat little white bow. It was there for comfort, but the warmth of his palm singed your skin and sent flames raging through your body. Your stomach dropped, and you wondered how a man could make you have such a reaction to such a simple, innocent touch.

“You okay with this?” He asked.

Whether he meant his advances, or his fingers burning right through your skin to the bone, was not clear to you.

You would lie to yourself every chance you'd get, but you weren’t stupid. Jake was clearly into you. The tension was palpable now that the two of you were alone, if only just for a moment. You were a perfect level of drunk at this point. Still lucid, but your inhibitions dulled to just the right level. “I’m fine, but…this costume,” you whined. “It’s so uncomfortable.”

Jake looked at you with a fire in his eyes that could scorch you, so intense you averted your gaze. It was like he had grown bigger, eclipsing everything in your vision. He burned brighter than the fire that illuminated his stunning features in a brilliant orange. “Is that so?”

You nodded.

“What a shame it would be if someone took it off.” His tone implied that he was joking, but the look on his face said quite the opposite.

“Yeah,” you giggled. “I look so nice, I can’t imagine what I would look like with less clothes.” Flirting, especially the kind you were doing now, wasn’t something you did often. In fact, you weren’t sure you’d ever done this kind of thing before.

He tilted his head at you, raising an eyebrow. “Is the little angel trying to ask me something?”

“Am I not making it obvious enough?”

You knew the gravity of the choice you were making. This would be a secret you could not keep forever, actions you wouldn’t be able to take back. None of that mattered anymore, though. There was one man you truly, unequivocally wanted, and he was not yours. He would never be yours. If he wanted you, he would be the one next to you right now.

“Plenty obvious, dear lady.” He belted the words in an accent you’d heard a few times before. “Come with me.”

“I expected something a bit more romantic from you, Jakey.”

He smiled at you, but the fire never left his eyes. “I don’t think I need to seduce you any further. Shut up and follow me.”

You felt dazed, completely out of your body as he took your hand in his and rushed you through the house and up into his room. Before you had time to come back down to reality your back was pressed up against a door and Jake was mere inches from your face, eyes piercing straight through you, his hand wrapped around the back of your neck. He pulled off the headband that held a halo to your head, tossing it away somewhere behind him. So sickeningly poetic, an obnoxiously obvious metaphor.

“You’re sure you want this?” He asked, drawing a bit closer.

You weren’t completely sure of anything anymore. The one thing you knew was that this was real, he was here, and those gorgeous eyes were staring right through you. Eyes you saw in many dreams. You’d been holding back from running your fingers through his hair all night, and it had now become impossible to deny the way he made you feel. Your heart raced, blood rushing through your veins at an impossible speed. He smelled different this time, some different type of cologne. Yet there was still the underlying scent of him, of Jake.

He leaned forward and you were certain your insides turned to ice water when his lips met the side of your neck, placing a delicate kiss there. “I won’t take the most intense fuck-me eyes I’ve ever seen in my life as an answer, angel. Speak.”

“Yes.”

“I need more than that.”

“Jake, please…” you whined, drawing a gasp when his teeth raked across your skin. “Please just…just touch me.”

His fingers snaked up into your hair, giving a gentle tug to the side as he finally bit down on your neck. A soft moan escaped your lips as he sucked bruises into your skin. You knew you should stop him, tell him he can’t, people will see if he marks you up. But you just didn’t care anymore, and it felt far too good to stop him. So what. Let them see.

He wrapped his arms around you, walking you back towards the bed before almost throwing you onto it. He practically ripped his shirt off, throwing it to some dark corner of the room. He put a knee up on the bed beside you, and you leaned back as he leaned forward, until your little wings touched the mattress. He was crouched over you, silhouetted by the lamp light behind him. You were suddenly very aware of how quickly you were breathing.

“You alright?”

“Jesus, how many times do I have to say yes?”

“My name is Jake, actually. And I just want to make sure you’re happy, little angel.” He gave you such a sweet smile you thought your heart would burst right then and there.

“I couldn't be any happier right now.”

He descended onto your bare collarbones, biting against your skin with perfect pressure. You couldn't say a word, only gasp and whine under him. It felt too fucking good to finally have him like this.

You weaved your fingers through his hair, tugging at it gently, pulling him away from your neck. He moved willingly under your touch, more than you expected. You arched your back and reached for the zipper that held your costume around yourself, but his fingers wrapped around your forearms, squeezing just a bit too hard.

“Keep it on.”

“But–”

“I said keep it on. Did you not hear me, or are you choosing not to listen?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and he took your stunned silence as a chance to lean forward. There was a pause when your lips brushed. This was it, this was the point of no return. When you would awake from a dream where Jake had been right where he was now, sweat drenching your sheets and a throbbing between your legs, this was the thing you swore you would never do. This was the line you swore you would never cross, for fear of hurting Sam. None of that mattered anymore. He didn’t want you. He fought with you. He yelled at you. The line disappeared, and you crossed it without a doubt in your mind.

You pulled Jake in, unceremoniously, and your lips crashed together. He was soft, gentle, he moved with you. Your grip tightened in his hair when he sucked your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a gentle bite. You pulled him away from your lips and he went with ease, staring at you with wide eyes.

He seemed so compliant, so eager to please you. You ran your thumb over his lips, and you couldn't help but envision him buried between your thighs. And as if he could read your mind, he began to crawl down the length of you, leaving kisses wherever his mouth could reach. He rested his head against your thigh, eyes flicking between you and the fabric draped across your lap. Like he was preparing himself.

“Jake…” You shifted your hips, growing desperate for some kind of touch.

He shushed you, trailing his fingers up your bare leg, just barely grazing the skin, making you shudder. “Wanna take my time.”

Painfully slowly, he pushed your skirt out of the way, the fabric gathering around your hips, your lacey panties on full display now. You propped yourself up onto your elbows to get a better look at him, though the sight of him there was almost too much to bear.

“You look soaked already. All I’ve done is kiss you, sweet girl.” A grin spread across his face as he met your eyes. “You need me that bad, huh?”

“Obviously,” you whined.

He ran his thumb across the fabric of your panties, gently pulling them to one side. He ran a finger through your folds, staring at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on. “All for me?” he breathed.

“All for you.”

He tore your panties off as quickly as he could, and slid a finger into you, and you felt completely breathless, dropping back down against the sheets. He moved masterfully, working you open, playing with you like you were a little toy for him.

“Oh fuck, Jake…” you stuttered over your words, every syllable a whimper.

“Louder, angel.”

You looked down at him, his eyes blazing into yours, dark and hungry.

“But they'll hear–”

“Let them.” He dropped down, laving his tongue over your clit, and you couldn’t stop the choked oh, god that fell from your lips.

“I can’t, that's so…” you couldn't finish your sentence, your words interrupted by gasping moans that you bit back, mortified by the idea of anyone hearing you.

“I’ll just have to make you louder, then.” He spoke the words pressed against you, the vibrations of his lips making you writhe. You tangled a hand in his hair, unconsciously pushing him closer against you.

“You’ve been driving me crazy all fucking night,” he growled between licks of your clit. “I waited long enough to hear you.”

You had to bite the back of your hand to keep quiet when he added a second finger, curling them in just the right way, your other hand grabbing onto his hair for dear life.

“I didn’t even do anything,” you whined, sounding downright pathetic.

“Really?” He pressed his thumb against your clit in the absence of his tongue, sending a shiver through your body. “The whole night you were staring at me like you couldn’t wait for this.” He brought his tongue back to your clit, drawing a needy whine.

He was good at this, finding every spot you loved so quickly, testing different movements and angles, figuring out what made you moan the loudest or grab his hair the hardest. You were quickly unraveling beneath him.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asked, his mouth still against you.

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

He pulled away from you, looking up at you with those wide eyes that made you feel insane, his fingers still moving. Your own wetness was smeared across his lips, his mouth curled up in a sly smile. “You know what I mean.”

You barely gave it a second thought before you whispered out a quiet “yes.”

“What was that, baby?”

You repeated yourself, gasping out the word a bit louder this time.

He brought himself up onto his knees, placing one hand on the side of your head, looming over you while his fingers still worked you perfectly. “I need more than that.”

All of this, the talking, the way his voice was a bit more raspy than normal, the way his hair hung down into his face, it was all too much. You were rushing towards your peak far too fast, the buildup far too long, and the feeling must have reflected in your face a bit too clearly.

“Are you gonna cum? Already?” He said it so cocky, so snarky, with almost a laugh behind it. Like he couldn’t believe his eyes.

You nodded, words becoming impossible to form, your eyes slipping shut as your back arched off the bed.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

You looked at him through half-lidded eyes, barely able to take in his dreamlike appearance. “Jake…” you whined, reaching for him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He let you pull him closer, brushing his lips against yours as he collapsed onto you. “Yes, baby?” You could feel his lips curl into a grin and he tasted like you.

You couldn’t find words, only choked moans came out of you as the heel of his hand pressed against your clit. You were so close, holding yourself back, for what reason you weren’t entirely sure.

“Go on, do it.”

Just those simple words of coaxing were enough to send you crashing over the edge, a sound coming out of you that you didn't even know you could make. Your teeth latched onto his collarbones, biting and sucking at his skin and earning you a few soft moans from his lips.

“That’s it…good girl.” He whispered into your ear in a way that made you shiver and twist your fingers into the fabric of his shirt, your entire body on fire. It felt like it would never end, his words prolonging every sensation as he talked you through it, with words of praise and filthy commands. “Keep going, angel, doesn’t that feel good?” He asked as you started to curl in on yourself, trying to tuck your knees to your chest. Whatever he was doing to you right now, nobody had ever done before.

It felt like the longest orgasm you’d had in your life, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. When he felt you’d had enough, and you started reaching for his wrist to pull it away, he finally relented, slowing and eventually stopping. As you came down, he pulled back, looking into your eyes with that fiery gaze that pierced right through you. He needed the same thing, and god did it have you throbbing all over again.

“Fuck me,” you whispered.

In one fluid motion he pulled away and flipped you over, yanking your hips up and putting a hand on the small of your back to hold you down. You yelped, surprised he was able to just…throw you around like that. The sound of his belt clinking behind you was erotic enough to draw a small moan out of you. Then the sensation of him dragging himself over your core – you nearly collapsed back down onto the bed.

“Don’t worry, angel. Gonna fuck you nice and sweet.”

You buried your face in the sheets to hide the agonized groan that ripped out of you as he pressed into you. He filled you so perfectly, in a way nobody else ever had. And then he just…stopped. He leaned down over you, his forehead resting against your back.

“Jakey–” the nickname slipped out unconsciously. “Please move, please–”

“Patience, angel.” You could feel his chest rising and falling with shaky, quick breaths.

You made a pleading, desperate sound, tightening yourself around him and trying to rock your hips back against him.

“Oh, don’t fucking do that,” he growled.

You needed this for longer, needed him as long as you could possibly have him. You felt a pressing need to be good for him.

He pulled his hips back, and snapped them forward again, sending stars across your vision. You clawed at the sheets, downright unholy sounds escaping you as he settled into a rhythm.

His hands roamed over your body until one of them landed on your lower stomach, just below your navel. He pulled you closer with that hand, adding just a bit of pressure in just the right place. “I’m right there, baby. You feel it?”

You whimpered, your mind scattered in every direction – you weren't used to this kind of dirty talking. Of course you could feel him, impossibly deep, taking up every square inch of you. “Yeah, I do,” you choked out, each word punctuated by a gasp.

“You’re taking it so good, sweet girl.” His hand wandered a bit lower, grazing across your clit, just enough to make you buck your hips, but he gave you no more than that light touch.

“More, please,” you gasped, trying to draw deeper breaths to keep yourself grounded. But he knocked the wind out of you with every thrust of his hips.

He clicked his tongue and murmured a pitying aww. “Does my sweet angel need something?”

“I need to see you, please, I want to–”

Before you could finish your sentence he was spinning you around to face him, practically throwing you down onto the bed. The ease at which he could manhandle you was stunning.

You clawed at his chest as he guided himself back into you, and you were certain you’d leave scratch marks on his skin. His expression as he did so was something that you felt burn into the back of your mind, something you would never forget. Like a song lyric you couldn’t stop replaying in your mind. His jaw slack, his upper lip curled up just a bit in something like a sneer, his brows knitted together, his head tilted slightly to the right, as if he was trying to get a better view.

It felt gentler now. The rush and frenzy of it all had worn off, and he moved slowly and deliberately. When his eyes met yours, the sensations caught up with your mind, and a brick wall of bliss crashed against you. You dragged your nails down his chest, your back arching off the bed when he bottomed out inside you.

“Is that better?” The smirk on his face alone was enough to make you tighten around him.

“Much better,” you sighed.

He settled into a rhythm again, one hand wrapped around your thigh and the other gripping the top of the headboard. Like he was putting his body on display for you. He hadn't taken off the chains around his neck, and the amulets made a lovely clinking sound as they swung back to collide with his chest with every thrust. You lifted yourself up off the bed, trying to drape your arms over his shoulders–

He pushed you back down with a hand against your chest. He shifted, his hands coming to rest on either side of you.

“I want to be closer to you,” you whined, like a spoiled brat.

“I want to watch you.”

You pouted, wrapping your arms around his neck once again and trying to pull yourself up. But something held you back.

“You’re pinned, angel.”

It clicked – he was holding you down by your wings. The tiny bits of feather and fabric and wire strapped tightly around your shoulders. You wriggled under his grip, desperately trying to pull away, trying to get just a little closer to him, needing to feel more of him on you.

“You were taking it so good, baby,” he groaned. “Why all the fuss now?”

“Need you.” You tried to speak the words, but they came out as a full-fledged moan. It was almost embarrassing how needy you sounded.

His expression twisted into a cruel smile. “Need you,” he mimicked the way you’d moaned it, almost perfectly. “I need you to let me fuck you the way I know you’ll like it.”

You were stunned into silence, only able to take small sips of air through his thrusts.

But he mimicked that too. “You sound so pretty. I figured you would.” He always had a way of rendering you speechless.

All of his words, the perfect angle of his hips, the way you were pinned down, all of it was leading to a cliff edge you knew so well, the tension in your body rising to a level you didn’t think possible. It almost scared you a bit, and Jake must have read the fear in your eyes, from the way he grinned.

“Is the pretty angel gonna cum for me?”

You nodded frantically, words evading you.

“You didn’t ask permission first.”

Your eyes rolled back, your jaw dropping open in stunned silence at his words. Ask permission?

You managed to mumble out a “please” between moans.

“Nowhere near good enough,” he hissed. “Try again, or I’ll stop.” He wasn’t joking either, his hips slowing their pace, angling just away from your clit.

Every ounce of inhibition you had left went out the window at that moment, your eyes locking with his “Please, Jake, please, can I cum, sir? Please, I'm trying to be so good for you–” The words rushed out faster than your brain could process what you were saying.

He seemed to break a bit, his hips snapping forward harder than before. His hand came up to wrap around your throat, his fingers placed perfectly on top of your veins. “Say it again.”

“Please, sir,” you sobbed, feeling a tear roll down your cheek. “I can’t– I can’t wait any longer–”

“Since you asked so nicely.” He pressed himself against you again, grinding his hips into your clit, and it only took a moment before you were cascading off the edge into the abyss. It felt like falling, your entire body tightening all at once, before you burst into sheer bliss, a smile gracing your lips as Jake’s hand tightened around your throat just right. Through your clipped breaths you called his name, not a thought in your mind about who may hear.

Through your daze of pleasure, you could hear his voice, sweet and soft in your ear, talking you through it. “That’s it baby, cum for me, I’m right there with you,” before his words devolved into groans so sweet they could rot your teeth. You could feel him pulsing inside you, filling you, spilling out of you onto the sheets.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, his hand slipping off your neck to stroke the side of your face, brushing away the tears that gathered on your cheeks. He collapsed down onto his forearms, breathing heavily, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Your voice came out of you cracked and broken, still the whisper of a moan on your tone. “Did you…”

“Yeah. I did. Fuck, I’m sorry.” He shook both of your bodies with silent laughter. “I swear I didn’t mean to. Are you…”

“Yes. Don’t worry.”

“Oh, I’m going to.”

You giggled, a pure, clean sound that cut through the fog of tension in the room. “I forgot how good that feels.” You started to tremble, wrapping your shaking hands around him. “They definitely heard me, by the way.” You could hear laughter and conversation from the floor below – there was no chance they didn’t hear you shouting his name.

“Whatever.”

You laughed again, raising an arm to run your fingers through his hair, now damp with sweat. “That was…” you couldn't find the words to describe it.

“Too rough?” He propped himself up to look at you. “You look a mess.”

You could imagine it, mascara running down your face, hair disheveled, costume wrecked. “Perfect,” you smiled.

“Really.” He planted a kiss on the tip of your nose. “Glad to hear it.” Looking you up and down, he heaved a sigh. “You’re leakin’ on my sheets, though.”

“Sorry, sir.” You crossed your legs and shot him a smirk.

He narrowed his eyes at you, a smile dancing on the corners of his lips. “Let me grab you something to clean up.”

“Not gonna do it yourself?” You teased as he rolled off the bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants.

“What, you want me to eat it out of you? There’s a three course meal in there right now.” He shot you a look over his shoulder, and you felt a blush creep into your cheeks.

“So vulgar.”

“Nah, just rock and roll.” He tossed you a towel and you cleaned yourself up the best that you could, before rolling over to haul yourself out of bed. You stood on wobbly knees, a dizziness suddenly crashing down over you, like your mind had forgotten you were still drunk until this moment. Jake was there in an instant, his arms hooking under yours to keep you on your feet.

“Careful now.”

He helped guide you into the bathroom as a content daze washed over you.

“Shout if you need anything,” he said in a hushed tone, letting go of you and retreating from the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Emotions you hadn’t felt in far too long rushed together through your mind all at once as you sat down on the toilet. You hadn’t had time for sex in college. Too focused on your degree, too focused on your future, you had no interest in pursuing any of the men on campus. But maybe this is what you’d been missing this whole time. This was the piece of you that you’d been stifling, holding down. The reason you couldn’t seem to forget about Sam.

For now, you could push him out of your mind, the space he’d been taking up now replaced with Jake. And that horrible, nauseating feeling of butterflies you got around Sam didn’t happen when you saw Jake. He was safe. This was platonic, this was no-strings-attached, just a good time between two friends-of-friends.

You were suddenly very aware of how uncomfortable your costume was. You threw it off in a hurry, standing naked in front of the mirror, pondering your own reflection. He’d left a few rosy bruises on your collarbones and your neck. Your fingers brushed across them, the sight of being claimed making you throb, just a bit.

Are you sore? From fucking my brother? Sam’s words echoed through your mind at an alarming volume.

I wasn’t then. But I am now.

A knock at the door startled you out of your haze.

“You okay in there?” Jake’s voice called through the wood.

“Yeah.” Your voice was broken and hitched. “I need clothes though.”

He opened the door and you quickly covered yourself with a yelp. He was holding a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt in his hand.

“I’ve already seen it all. You don’t have to hide it,” he chuckled. “Put these on.”

You did as he said, noticing the warm scent of vanilla that drifted off his clothes.

“I would offer to drive you home, but I…don’t think I should drive.”

You shook your head. The idea of being alone after that was an unpleasant one at best.

“You can sleep here, if you want.”

“I’d like that very much.”

He grabbed your hand and led you back over to his bed. He’d already made it back up neatly, the covers turned down, the room softly illuminated by only a small lamp in the corner. It didn’t feel intrusive to be here, it felt like home.

“I’m gonna go see how the guys are doing. You get some rest, alright angel?”

You crawled under the covers, your body immediately relaxing, releasing the tension you didn’t realize you’d been holding onto. “Alright,” you mumbled, eyes half-lidded.

You were nearly asleep before he even left the room.

Tag List: @dont-go-home-without-me @poochiesworld @stardustcatcher @83rkblogs @jaketsguitar

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