#'not me the actual manager lolol'

[realasslesbian]

But in conclusion to my last post, I might have to get a retail job again, or at least some type of job where I gotta work with people face-to-face (that cost of living y’all) and I just, after nearly three years of not daily being treated like trash and having a pay-check held over my head so that I’d just quietly accept being abused everyday and after not living like that and consequently being able to grow into a happy self-confident human being, like it’s gonna be my first day at this useless job, some lil bitch corner store manager is gonna call me an idiot, all his lil simp employees are gonna be giggling in the corner, and I’m going to straight-up punch him in the face, and tell him I still expect him to pay my cheque for all the rest of the shifts I got lined up this week, unless he wants me to drag his ass through a courtroom with my entire law degree. Because literally, I would rather hunt, fish and forage for my food (which I know how tf to do btw) than have to put up with any stank retail hoes who gotta inflict their misery at their five kids and a mortgage bear trap of a life on me.

[goodmorningdove]

I love you, Void. Drink water for me. Perhaps we'll meet again

Cant drink water right now. In a car. Nowhere to uh. Dispose of the water. Which i always need to do IMMEDIATELY after drinking water. Ill chug water when i get home tho.

I hope u come back eclipse anon!it was really nice getting a whole wack of asks in my inbox, i dont usually get a lot of asks :P

[bigfatbimbo]

Vee’s x Dom!Reader got me thinking about what if the Valentino and Velvette speculate that reader is cheating on them. Like reader walks in one morning with hickeys on her neck and collar bone and Valentino and Velvette are just like, uhhh wtf?

They didn’t mark them up this recent for the hickeys to be looking like that. When they confront reader about it, Vox walks in and is like, what’s all this about?

Valentino and Velvette point out the hickeys decorating readers body only for Vox to confess that he did those. The other two Vee’s are flabbergasted that Vox, mommy’s good boy, actually had the balls to mark up reader and tease him about it.

“Awww did you mark up your mommy?” Velvette would tease.

Valentino wonders how Vox managed to stay quiet if they fucked last night since Vox is like loud af and the power normally goes out. To keep himself ‘cool’, Vox just bit and licked readers neck the entire time lolol

NO BECAUSE I LOVE WAKING UP TO VEES REQUESTS!!!!

This is absolutely a thing that has happened with the Vees and their collective dom. Because they’re all loud but Vox being fucked leads to… more noticeable events (the power literally goes all the fuck out.)

So that not happening, paired with the marks on your neck lead to suspicion. Because if you had been with Velvette or Val, the hickeys would be more believable. But they both kinda spare eachother little “did you do that? no? me neither!” glances.

But no because the two of them teases Vox about having the balls to mark you up is so funny and so real. “Did mommy give you spanking for that one, Voxxy?” Velvette and Val would be unapologetically loosing their shit laughing at him for that.

He’d get VERY defensive and probably scream at them to shut the fuck up. Anyways, the other two would be highkey so jealous for the rest of the day. Like they would literally be critiquing the bite marks. “They don’t even look that deep.” “I could have done better.” “He did a really sloppy job.”

But oh my god, the idea of Vox having to bite down on your neck to keep himself from totally bugging out? Priceless. Like him just gnawing on your neck while you ride his dick or fuck his ass, to keep quiet.

And you praising him with, “So well behaved, baby. So much self control, you’re such a good boy for me,” while he sucks on your neck and whimpers ‘mommy’ against the raw skin.

ANYWAYS, sorry I actually gendered this one, it was just already in the request so I didn’t feel like changing it. Also the Vees with a femdom does something to me lowkey…

[ezdotjpg]

do you have any directors commentary on the recent two updates? 👉👈 the color palette is absolutely lovely! and and and WOLF!! :DD

OH BOY DO I

In the original draft of this chapter, Wolf stays a, uh, wolf until like the 4th update. Instead of actually managing to get his teeth on the master sword, Loft threw him off immediately. The Deku Tree still said the line about all three of them being heroes and Slate is like. “Including the fucking dog????!” I thought it was very funny but a) it made some scenes later down the line a huge pain and b) I was tired of drawing wolves ALDKDKD

You may have noticed Wolf’s scowling in the bg of almost every panel. That’s kind of just his face, but also right now my guy is nursing the world’s biggest migraine from popping the shadow crystal out of his skull. He can stay wolfmode for a while, but it’s still technically a curse. It’s not consequence free, and there’s an upper limit for how long he can spend in that form. Anyway, cut him some slack if he’s a little prickly for a bit.

There were a lot of comments about Loft being strong enough to toss a wolf over his head lol. My hc is that he’s one of, if not the strongest Link sans any magic items like power bracelets or gauntlets. He’s actually not even as strong now as he was during his quest. Wolf maybe has him beat now, but he can still get tossed lolol

It might seem like Slate’s really taken everything that happened at the end of ch1 in stride, but don’t worry. He’s simmering. Loft is grateful for the opportunity to get distracted by something else. Maybe that’s why he was so willing to approach the wild animal he’s never seen before lol

This maybe goes without saying based on the events of the last two updates, but Slate never had wolf link with him during the events of botw. He doesn’t recognize Wolf.

I’m really glad ppl seem to be liking the colors bc I struggled with them so hard on both updates 🫠literally days of me turning to my roommate and going “I think I’ve never made anything worse” and them going “it looks good stop being dramatic” WKDJDK I have this thing where if I had an idea in my head for what an update should look like, and what I produce doesn’t meet it somehow, I start seeing in fucking. shrimp colors. Posting always gives me a confidence boost back lol.

these pages were cursed in general bc like. this doesn’t usually happen but I think I redrew every panel in this update at least 5 times each. that’s part of why it ended up being late SKDJF

I REALLY like the idea of being in the presence of the Triforce and having access to its power being this eldritch, divinely horrifying experience. The sort of thing that is impossible to explain to anyone and also haunts you forever. Loft spends a lot of time actively trying not to think about the Triforce. Just, like, remember that about him.

Like how tears in reality are shown through holes in the literal comic panels, I tried to show the concept of reality bending in the form of a panel stretching and twisting like a ribbon ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ I hope that came across. Triforce lore varies a bit from game to game, but I’ve come up with my own internal logic for bonus links that combines all the ideas I like lolol. We’ll learn more about it in due time!

I also really like this parallel :D I intentionally set up the panels so past and present loft would line up like this. i love getting to draw flashback links it’s so fun to think of ways to convey what they used to be like, and how their quests might have gone for them. Past Loft’s not having a great time by the time he reaches this point lol

I think that’s all I’ve got for now. Thanks for asking :D

[matrixbearer2024]

Party Games Aplenty

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: Just a funny little interlude where I get to the club rink aftermath with Reader lolol, also featuring a very chaotic Lucifer trying to play matchmaker- This is kind of like what I had mentioned in the past where Reader ends up playing some "kiss, marry, kill" lmao- I'm writing another interlude that comes directly after this with more fluffy stuff so you guys could probably look forward to that too hahahaha!

As the first rays of the morning filtered through the curtains, your eyes reluctantly fluttered open as the hangover finally hit you full force.

As fun as it was to overindulge in the festivities of the night before, you were starting to regret not being careful enough.

You forced yourself to sit up, biting back a groan when the room spun slightly.

How you even managed to return to the hotel, much less your own bed, was but a fuzzy memory.

But when you raised your hands to rub the sleep out of your eyes, you noticed the dark sleeves of a coat that didn't belong to you.

Wait...

Wasn't this Vox's blazer?

You didn't even get to wonder how it came into your possession before the smell of his cologne hit your nose.

It instantly took you back to last night, the first time you noticed the scent was when you had literally fallen on top of Vox because he'd lost his balance on his skates.

Then again when he'd stepped in close to check if you were okay after that exchange with a flirty drunkard.

It wasn't a fragrance you initially expected, minty with some hints of citrus to make a refreshing and crisp scent-

But honestly it was better than what you guessed which was just the smell of new computer parts-

A small blush worked onto your face as you reminisced the night before, your numbing migraine mostly an afterthought by this point.

Had he leant this to you...?

A small bashful smile appeared on your face, tugging the coat closer as you remembered the genuine charming smile that had gotten you so interested in the overlord in the first place.

Huh, maybe you should call him-

"Hello my dear! Any reason to be so smitten this early in the morning?"

"HOLY SHI-"

You were so busy fawning over Vox and his chivalry the night prior that you didn't notice Alastor suddenly pop up next to you on the bed.

So when the radio demon had suddenly mentioned something- you practically screamed.

Thank goodness you didn't fall off the bed this time, but boy did that give you a scare.

Also smitten? Bitch who's smitten it wasn't you-

"Huh-??? What the hell are you doing in my room?! It's too early for any of your games you old weirdo!"

"Hahaha! Oh I'm not here to play any games fawn! I merely came to fetch you at Charlie's request!"

You just rolled your eyes at the deer annoyed, rubbing at your eyes once more as you swung your legs over the edge of the mattress.

"Charlie's looking for me? Why?"

"Why don't you head downstairs and find out?"

You just glared at Alastor for giving you such a vague answer, to which he simply shrugged and grinned wider.

Cheeky old bastard.

You were too busy being irritated with the antique media overlord that by the time you'd come downstairs to meet with the rest of the group-

You actually missed the odd looks they gave you.

Not that you would've noticed anything anyway when your mind was preoccupied with the delectable aroma that wafted from the kitchen.

"Oooooh! Lucifer! You made pancakes?"

"Why not? I had some time and Charlie asked if I could."

"Can I have some?"

"Sure! Just help yourself!"

You skipped past Lucifer happily, grabbing a serving of pancakes before sitting down at the table with everyone else and digging in.

Still, you seemed to just happily munch away in your own world until Angel finally spoke up.

"Sooooo... wanna explain who's jacket that is toots?"

You almost choked on your food in surprise.

Only then did you realize the amused or curious gazes everyone else had on you.

No wonder Alastor didn't say or do anything else when you had just stomped out of your room.

That old fuck-!

"It's Vox's blazer, he just leant it to me."

You mumbled hastily, poking at your food and avoiding everyone's eyes.

This was... kinda embarrassing.

"Did he try to charm your pants off or something?"

"What? No! He's just a good friend- that's kind of it."

Lucifer let out a long whistle before he sat down next to you with a playful grin, using his magic to make the apron he was wearing disappear.

You were not quite as enthused as the king of hell.

"Hooooh boy, seems like someone got friendzoned!"

You just rolled your eyes at the king of hell, tipping his hat in retaliation so he had to fix it.

You getting friendzoned- as if.

"I don't really even remember what happened last night, who brought me back to the hotel?"

Vaggie raised an eyebrow at you, crossing her arms with an amused grin.

That made you just the teensiest bit concerned.

"Vox did, you were drunk out of you mind so he went ahead and took you back here."

"Hedidwhatnow-"

You thought it was either Angel or Charlie that would've taken your wasted self back to the hotel-

Not a specific flat-faced overlord.

Wouldn't he have just found your situation hilarious?

Well, maybe he did-

But that still didn't explain why he'd go through all of that effort to take care of you.

"Uh ohhhh, looks someone's hit by Cupid's arrow!"

"LUCIFER PLEASE-"

As the table erupted in laughter, you just stewed in embarrassed silence.

Vox was such an idiot-

You could've taken care of yourself.

And still you were more than giddy from his actions.

Geez.

This was so confusing...

Vox himself wasn't actually faring much better than you were.

Given that he freed up his weekend at your request-

He wasn't really doing anything this early in the day.

Instead, the overlord was just staring up at the ceiling trying to come to terms with the realization that slapped him in the face last night.

Was he really in love with you?

What if he was just mistaking this fondness?

After all, he never had this kind of... relationship with anyone.

He'd just been looking through your past conversations and pictures in an attempt to really make heads or tails of his feelings-

When his phone's ringtone suddenly blared out.

Vox fumbled with it from shock, only to get even more panicked when he realized it was you who was trying to call him.

Oh FUCK.

What was he even going to say to you after last night?!

He was absolutely not ready for this-

Eventually though, he'd managed to gather enough of his bearings to answer the call.

"Hey dollface, did you need anything?"

It was silent for a little bit and the overlord almost thought you'd just accidentally pressed the button.

Until he heard Lucifer's giggling from the other end.

What the fuck was the guy doing with your phone?!

"Wha- What are you doing with this phone?!"

"Oh calm down, we're just playing some truth or dare! This was just one of your dear (Y/N)'s!"

"Truth or dare?? This early in the day???"

"Angel's idea, she just agreed. But don't worry- there isn't any booze. You're welcome to join in if you drop by!"

Vox sighed in mild irritation, of course you'd agree to play this stupid game.

He glanced over at the digital clock by his bedside, it wasn't even noon.

"Hello? You still there TV man?"

"I'll be at the hotel in ten, don't let (Y/N) do anything stupid."

Lucifer only chuckled and tossed the phone back to you, waving off your queries when you had asked if Vox said anything.

It did strike you as peculiar when you were simply dared by him to hand over your phone unlocked, it was such a simple task.

Unlike the dares you'd been feeding the others-

Which were...

Hilarious to say the least.

Especially now that Vaggie had her long hair done up in such an obnoxious style and Husker was wearing a dress.

It would've made you feel bad if the situation just wasn't so funny.

"Vox?! Where are you going?!"

"I'll tell you later when I get back."

"Not like that you aren't!"

"What's wrong with my suit this time?!"

"If you're heading where I think you are, it's not dressed like that!"

Vox could only sigh in exasperation when Velvette ran after him, he hastily just threw on the outfit he was familiar with and practically bolted out the door.

Only, he didn't quite realize that in his haste- his bow tie wasn't so properly done and he'd even forgotten his hat.

The youngest Vee wanted to facepalm at the frenzied mess her colleague was at the moment, but instead flicked her hand to put immediately him into a better prepared outfit.

He still had his white long sleeved dress shirt but his coat had instead shifted into a button down vest with the same striped pattern, a necktie replaced his signature bow and his hat was now on his head as well.

The overlord's slacks had gone from black to a dark navy to complement his vest, his shoes remained unchanged.

Vox just looked down at himself confused, he looked even dressier than usual?

"There, you'll still look sharp even if you completely lose it!"

He decided not to say anything in reply, his mind blitzing about way too many things at once to properly retort.

The overlord waved back to acknowledge Velvette before quickly rushing out the doors, swiftly travelling through some wires to get to the hotel.

By the time he had arrived, you were about to chug a beverage that even Vox couldn't recognize.

Hastily making his way towards you in a zap of blue electricity, he plucked the glass out of your hand and just gave you his signature grin.

He didn't know, but you'd noticed his expression shifted from worry to that trademark smile.

Not that you would even be able to mention it, being shocked from his sudden arrival and all.

Vox took a wiff of the concoction and immediately cringed, it was like someone had mixed up every kind of alcohol into one drink.

Ew.

"Playing party games without inviting me? That's kinda cruel dollface."

Everyone aside from a certain king of hell seemed shocked at the arrival of your flatscreened friend.

Your eyebrows furrowed for a moment as you looked at Vox, just how did he know about what you were doing?

The overlord merely shot you a curious smile, even he had no idea why you were looking at him like he was a puzzle to be solved.

It took no less than a minute for the pieces to fall into place, then the whole situation finally made sense to you.

"Lucifer you fucking snitch!"

"Eh? What are you talking about (Y/N)? I didn't do anything!"

All eyes were suddenly on the king of hell, and Vox couldn't help but start to feel confused.

Was he really baited into arriving?

Not to mention he actually fell for it.

Did he really just get played?!

"That's why you wanted my phone earlier! Why you little-"

"Well, you know what they say- the more the merrier!"

Vox just shook his head in disbelief as he watched you practically chase Lucifer all around the hotel lobby.

And to think he'd worked himself up into a near panic because he was unsure of the messes you'd get into playing Truth or Dare.

He looked back at the glass in his hand, swirling the beverage with a raised eyebrow.

"I wouldn't drink that if I were you."

"I could gather as much from the smell, but thanks for the warning. What's in this anyway?"

"Every kind of booze that the bar has to offer, it'll probably get anyone tipsy."

"And you guys dared (Y/N) to drink this???"

Husker just casually shrugged at the technology overlord's response.

Vox didn't even bother to question why the feline was wearing a stupidly poofy dress either-

"They took up the dare, you'd honestly come in at just the right moment."

The overlord just rolled his eyes, his timing was... kind of spot on.

Well, when has it not been?

He was just minding his own business conversing with the hotel's resident bartender when a random pillow was suddenly thrown at his face, hitting his screen with a light 'paff'-

"Sorry Vox!"

You looked at him apologetically, twiddling your fingers as he just shook his head again.

So you were the culprit.

Vox couldn't help but just chuckle at your meekness, this chaos wasn't anything new to him.

Though you just giggled when he shot you an amused smile, the others in the room totally missing it when Angel suggested they play another game.

"Come on! Let's play some two truths and a lie! That's a lotta fun!"

"Dude, you're just going to lie about everything."

"Whaaaat? No I'm not!"

"I don't see why not."

All eyes were immediately on Vox, surprised he'd even entertain such a menial thing.

He simply shrugged, moving away from the bar to stand next to you.

You just looked up at him with wide eyes, he's willing to play a game like this-?

With all of you??

"It's just a game, nothing to get too worked up about."

Lucifer audibly snickered at his words, causing the technology overlord to fling a pillow in his general direction.

Of course the fallen angel simply dodged it-

Sure-

It was a little hypocritical considering how he reacted to learning that you were playing truth or dare-

But that didn't really need to be said.

After a few rounds of the game however, Vox was slowly starting to regret agreeing.

Especially when it had basically turned into a QnA directed at him.

The only thing that gave him even an ounce of respite was the fact you could answer some of the questions.

You really knew him well.

"So you can seriously just display anything on your face?"

"Emotes, pictures, videos, games, you name it. Anything digital I probably could."

"I actually wonder what would happen if I plugged an actual console into your head-"

"Doll, as much as I let you get away with things- that's where I draw the line."

Given that you were all just sitting around the lobby, you leaning on Vox wasn't all that surprising.

It felt natural for the both of you, comfortable even.

"Awwww come on? Why not? Let me play Mario kart on your face-"

"Hard pass dollface, hard pass."

That question caused the both of you to fall back into your typical banter, nearly forgetting everyone else was still there until Lucifer spoke up.

"Fine fine, we get it- you both know each other well. Let's play something more interesting! So (Y/N), kiss, marry, kill anyone in this room?"

"We're shifting games now?"

"Eh?! Why me?!"

"Why not?"

You couldn't form a retort to that, giving your techy friend an annoyed side-eye when he couldn't stop snickering.

"Well fine! I'm definitely killing Alastor-"

You had to elbow Vox when he started openly laughing, you didn't even say that just to echo your buddy.

You really just found Alastor ridiculously creepy.

"I'm not saying that for you Samsung, the old geezer is just way too annoying and creepy!"

That comment just made the overlord laugh harder, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at his antics.

"Anyway- kiss... Angel probably? He's got experience so I probably wouldn't regret it."

"Well ya ain't wrong toots."

The spider proudly said, causing you to shake your head and wave him off.

You didn't mean to feed the guy's ego, but you honestly probably just did.

"And marry Vox. That's a no brainer."

"Wait what-"

Vox hadn't been paying attention to the conversation much, instead just stealing glances at you that kind of went unnoticed.

So when you said "marry" and then his name in tandem, his brain kind of just froze.

"Yeah, you take care and watch over me- plus you're like my best friend- so if I had to I'd just pick you."

The overlord didn't know whether he wanted to smile or just blank.

Was that a friendzone???

What literally just happened-

"Plus you're rich, so like- I could literally live in luxury-"

"You can be kind of a bitch you know that?"

"Ha! Takes one to know one!"

"Why you little-!"

"Awwww you loooooooove meeeeeee!"

Vox couldn't even fire back at that, just crossing his arms and huffing as you devolved into a laughing fit at his expense.

And it wasn't like he could stay annoyed with you either, even if you really liked pushing his buttons in every which way possible.

All he could do was smile and grab a nearby couch cushion to playfully hit you with it.

"Naaaaah! As if, keep dreaming dollface!"

Oh if only you knew how true your words were.

[howgalling]

Just found you tfoc spark twins, did you and your friend ever create any lore you’d be willing to share about the two?

WE DID! it went a bit crazy actually. me and @rubski02 go crazy ranting about the plotlines lolol. we have our transformer designs of them but we've also made human designs of them for my cyberpunk au (except this one has a version of swindle that is basically saul goodman. hes steeles babygirl and juicy wants nothing more in this life than to kill him. steele will not let her <3)

steele, steele water is her stage name. basically shes the big boss of batshit events, monster truck shows, absolute cowboy tomfoolery, car meets, just enabling style and drag racing (knockout frequents her events :3) She manages it in a way that keeps it under control enough that the cops turn a blind eye because at least then it's not spilling onto their turf lmao. above board in the ways that matter, no kill rules in place or you get ganked, the usual vaguely criminal enterprises. (theres a lot more under the surface of course)

steele's human cyberpunk design. a fringed western denim over a netrunning suit. styling. serving even! she's extremely detail orientated, plays for the long game. complete opposite to her sparktwin juicy. i'll let ruby talk about juicy though :D

the girls... and swindle lol.

[diejager]

OMG FINALLY!! *muach muach* oh my actually I'm a bit nervous and excited now lolol. Uhm—well since your request is open can I have Pyra head and Michael Myers (separately) chasing survivor!reader in trial but they just ignore the other survivors, solely chasing reader till the end of game. Something dark and lustful lingers around those two killers and you just don't know why! By the end of the game, the other survivors manage to escape to the campfire safely, however reader got stuck alone with the killer. When they finally catch you, oh shall you know all your hopes may shatter to pieces. You think this is the end, in the hands of ruthless killer chosen by Entity. But why their face (in pyra head's case it's his helmet) getting closer to your face and what make it's more confusing something comes out of that mask (i.e. a long tendril similar to tongue). Breath kink but instead of hand choking or strangulation, you choked on their tongue 👅

Feel free to ignore this if you still don't open req for dbd fandom

☀️

You are feeding me ambrosia with this sunnie!!! I have a weak spot for both of them, but-but- the Unknown??? Any thoughts????

Cw: DARKFIC?(it’s dbd, what do you expect??), DUB-CON/NON-CON, predator/prey, implied death, obsessive behaviour, choking?, super long tongue??, size kink/difference, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.5k

You were… unlucky. The Entity seemed to rejoiced in your pain more than any other survivor, feeding on your dashed hope for an escape from the perpetual cycle death and sacrifice, the painful sting on being slashed, the horrifying fate of being killed by the killer’s weapon of choice or the terrifying agony of being hooked. It was a painful affair, being the subject of her perverse protection, locked away in her universe to feed and be fed, blood for blood —quid pro quo.

But at times, your moments in her dark world was warm and charming like the people who gathered at the campfire, sharing their skills and abilities to keep the others alive throughout the…trials. The small moments stolen within the fog to keep yourself up and going, and happy, little smiles and bubbly laughs. It made trials easier, to know that the people who were screaming and working had your back in and out of them, to know what they would do made working in teams better and reassuring. 

And yet- and yet it was all for nought, the killer had eyes for you only, stalking and following you with his arm raised despite the others coming between you two to stop him from maiming you. Unfortunately, The Shape - Micheal Myers - in all his ghostly glory and dirty suit, was a creature of obsession, of predatory possession that gave him a one track mind, tunnelling the person who he chose as his obsession; and you happened to be his choice of madness these last round, even when Laurie was with you. 

There were some pros and cons with his constant stalking, the quiet steps echoing not so far behind you while they worked on the generators, unbothered and safe fro Myers, but you were stuck kitting him, running away from him by jumping over windows and dropping palettes wherever you could stun him to give you just a few more seconds of distance. He grew so, so close on multiple occasions, you felt his breath and his dark and imposing figure behind you, but he never once struck you down with his big knife. 

It wasn’t so bad as long as he didn’t hit you, letting you run around and avoid the other three until they finished all five generators and opened the gates, the bell ringing loudly over your head, and even then, he ignored everyone for you. He, somehow, managed to corner you, to far from both gates and your teammates who you - in a desperate plea for a win - had yelled out to leave and let you find the hatch or run to a gate if things got didn’t worsen. Which had left you alone, ears ringing and head beating against your cage, cornered and afraid of the giant who stared you down with a red gleam in the dark pits of his eyes.

Every step he took backed you up further against the rugged wall of a house - his childhood home - and pressed himself against you, the rough texture of his suit irritating your skin as he dropped the knife to touch you, running over his course fingers down your shoulders. Myers was scarily touchy, pads digging into the fat of your hips, groaning and grunting as he ground against you, drinking in your whimpers and hisses, fists hitting his chest without any result. Was it so surprising? He was a monster, a devil’s spawn, who had you in hands, a uselessly struggling victim that was too weak to stop him. 

His game of cat and mouse came to an end, where you forgot what you were initially doing, choking around his thick fingers, the filthy taste hitting you harshly as his jabs. He pressed his fingers down the back of your throat, panting loudly at your gags and rutting his fattening cock on your navel. You shuddered at the feel of it, the thick bulge threatening to pop a button off his jumpsuit, and you feared, you were terrified at your wandering thoughts, the implication of it when faced with a beast like Myers. 

Ding

Then the final call rang, a long and echoing sound that called the end of the trial. It was quiet for a few seconds, and all you felt was pain, agony ripping through you as The Entity swallowed you up with her many arms. The last thing you saw was Myers bulge, pushed to your bloodied lips and filling your dying nose with a thick and heady musk, a metallic and dusty smell that would linger on your tongue. 

You had hoped that she would give you a second, let you bask in the worry and affection the other survivors gave you, her whispers summoning you elsewhere in a drowning cloud of black fog and sent into your next match, placed somewhere in Midwich Elementary School. The many winding halls and rusted metal worked to confuse the survivors and killers alike, leaving only a selected few who were familiar with this realm. You crossed path with James a few times, but you knew he wouldn’t have given an offering for this, it was a sore memory for him, a reminder of his sins and regrets. So that left a single open left: Pyramid Head, the wandering executioner in the halls of Midwich, sentient and brutal in his ways.

He was a monster everyone feared, something created from the mind of a tortured man rather than a human turned monster, he was born a nightmare and would perish as one. That’s why you hid whenever you heard the telltale sound of his rusted great sword drag across the floor, knowing he had chosen you as his obsession and was actively turning a blind eye to the other survivors. You heard a few screams here and there, but he hadn’t downed anyone, seemingly to prefer leaving them half dead and limping to the next generator or survivor to heal.

You were doing well, working with Jane on the third machine, smiling to each other and sending encouraging glances while you looked over your shoulders from time to time, but your luck had run out. Pyramid Head stumbled your way, his head bobbing over the thick cords of his shoulders and chest, sinewy muscles bulging with every move. You both ran, Jane up the stairs and you down the hall, and he followed you. It was a familiar feeling, being the chased obsession of a killer, singled out by him to be the victim of his choosing.

Unfortunately, The Executioner never truly relished in the hunt, prowling fast and hard, ready to kill whoever he crossed, yet, strangely, he hadn’t raised his great sword, chasing you down a hall and into a dead end. You were fucked. Oh so terribly fucked if your assumptions were right. You turned to face Pyramid Head, fearfully glaring at him, eyes scouring the open space around him for a small point to slip away. You felt your small star of hope extinguish when he suddenly appeared before you, moving faster than he usually would, blocking your way with his body. 

He was hard and warm under your palms, his laboured breathing resting on your shoulder in his dazed wandering, his ripped and bloody and filthy arms brushing against yours and feeling you up. You closed your eyes in terror, trying your best to snuff out your thoughts and the feeling of his touches, his fingers pinching and kneading the skin of your hips and thighs, slipping behind to occasionally feel your ass bend under his strong hands. You whimpered, raking your nails down his arms, trying and failing to stop him from going forward with his wants, turning your head away from him. 

It seemed like he didn’t like that, forcing a gasp out of you when a wet appendage lapped at your cheek, leaving a slimy trail of drool until you reacted to him, gaping and hissing at him; and he took your shock and disgust to his advantage, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You retched, throat closing around his tongue, thrusting slowly to the back of your throat and up to spread over your palate. He lathered your mouth in his drool, willing your smaller and less nimble tongue to push at him, choking down any cries or gags from the sheer disgust that filled your guts (despite the small spike of arousal in your guts). 

You wanted to scream about your situation, this fucked up situation you keep finding yourself with monsters like The Shape and The Executioner. Why you? Why you out of everyone else? You weren’t as significant or strong and determined as other survivors, so it confused and worried you, if they would force themselves onto you again and again until they either broke you or moved onto another poor survivor. But perhaps- just perhaps you could make something of it, seeing the thick pole that poked at your stomach, poking from under his loose loincloth and wetting it with a dark spot at the tip.

You loathed The Entity and her plans. 

[sanjisblackasswife]

The aphrodisiac fic for sanji was so good 💖💖💖 could I possibly request (if you're down for it) like the aftermath of it where the reader is exhausted and like very dazed and he does the aftercare, I feel like he'd feel lowkey guilty for being so rough and forceful he would be so sweet right after when things calm down 😭

A/N: OH MY GOSH I WAS JUST SAYING I WAS PROBABLY GANNA DO THIS FROM A LAST ANON COMMENT LOLOL ok here I gotchu.

Aftercare with Sanji (Post Aphrodisiac Sex)(FLUFFY AF)

This is a continuation of THIS fic of the aphrodisiac fiasco so if you would like to get up to speed feel free to read that first! I will be Doing Luffy and Zoro later!

CW: A whole LOTTA fluff, post sex regret, a bit of crying, Sanji being a sorrow’ed mess, amazing aftercare, lots of love, kisses

-

It was 1:30am, and it’s been about almost an hour since Sanji’s drug wore off and you both finally passed out from what you believed as probably the best sex you ever had.

LIKE EVER.

However your body felt otherwise, you were laying on your back, eyes parted slightly, to look up at the blurred ceiling and the moonlight shinning through your window, hearing the water of the sea crash against the Sunny, you didn’t even have to move to feel the sting in your neck and the soreness on your limbs. Your lips were a bit swollen, your breast were sensitive, and you felt incredibly sticky and wet under and between your thighs.

You decided to worry about cleaning yourself up in the morning, but both of your sides felt cold since you were laying in the middle of the bed. Usually you smelled Sanji’s natural scent beside you, holding you close making sure you don’t completely fall asleep before you take your routine bath. You winced a little to turn your head and he wasn’t there, but you heard subtle footsteps hit his door and in came Sanji. With nothing, but some pj pants on carrying snacks, drinks, warm towels and an ice pack.

“Sanji…” You choked speaking out not realizing your voice was nearly gone, it was raspy and a bit itchy. Sanji nearly dropped the cigarette in his mouth seeing you holding yourself with your elbows giving him a weak smile. He threw a clean bed sheet over your body to cover yourself just in case someone busted in while you were knocked out.

“A-angel…” He urgently placed the tray down and rushed over to you helping you sit up. “I got you.”

His voice was so soft, and his touch to your body was so delicate your barely felt him move you compared to a few hours ago. You let the sheet drop off of your torso to see the damage on your body—-

It scared you both honestly.

You had many bruises on your neck from when he choked you, your breast, arms, thighs, ass and tummy for when he was giving you hickies,and a few bite marks on your shoulder. You’ve actually gotten into fights with people that left you with less marks.

You admired your body for a moment and grinned; somehow you really liked how he marked you up.

Sanji however couldn’t be more disgusted with himself.

He always viewed your body as a temple. He wasn’t the most religious man, but he did agree with the statement of what God said: “To treat your body as a temple.” Even though he smokes like a train.

And that’s what he wanted to do with you. He wanted to take care of your body, love it, and more importantly have you trust him with it.

—

He woke up 30 minutes before you, feeling a tad sore himself, “Y—oh shit—Y/N?!”

You were face down beside him and your breathing was pretty shallow. He turned you over too quickly and you shrieked in your sleep making Sanji flinch.

“I’m so sorry, Angel!…let me…let me move you a little closer okay?”

“‘M tired, Sanji….”

Guilt couldn’t even describe how he felt, you looked lifeless in his eyes. Your body was so beautiful, but the bruises ruined it and it was all caused by him.

He couldn’t believe the lack of self control he had with you, drugged or not he should have been able to managed himself correctly.

He carefully pulled you over to the middle of the bed seeing as you were leaning off the edge, after that he got up to put on his underwear and went into the drawer he had of fresh bed sheets and flew one on top of your body.

“I’m …so sorry.” He caressed your head, it was almost as if he betrayed you somehow by being so rough with you—his memory was even blurred a bit on how he started to have sex with you; but he got a few flashbacks of you screaming his name, tears coming through your eyes.

It wasnt long until he seen a tear drop fall onto your flustered cheek. He quickly wiped it away before grabbing your hand to kiss it.

“I’m such a piece of shit for this, I’m so sorry.”

—

“Feel better?” You coo’ed at him breaking out of his thoughts he looked back up at your tired face, your hair was disheveled, your eyes were drowsy but you smiled at him again waiting for him to respond, but his lips began to quiver. “Sanji..?”

“I’m so sorry!” He bursted into tears leaning over his knees , covering his face. “Im so sorry!”

Sanji was broken, his chest was heavy, you haven’t seen him cry like this ever. It wasn’t tears of him usually being his dramatic self it was real tears of pain and regret. You felt your heart sink seeing him look so distraught at you. It was as if he broke his own morals that Zeff taught him and he knew he couldn’t forgive himself if he ever did.

“Sanji…” Holding your breath slightly to not whine in pain to further his guilt, you used all the strength you had to grab him close to you, but he wouldn’t budge. “Sanji please look at me… you don’t have to apologize.”

“I don’t deserve you! I hurt you! Look at your bruises!? I caused this! I heard your cries and ignored them, i can’t believe I—I did this to you! I—I—“

His cries were paused when you wrapped your arms around his neck tightly to then rub his cheek. He has tears falling and his eyes were so pink and puffy. This was a serious issue for him, he really believed he hurt you in a bad way.

“Sanji…you didn’t betray me. You didn’t hurt me…—“

“But I did! look at you—- I put my hands around your neck, what if I would have really— I—“ His voice kept cracking trying to fight back anymore tears but he failed and broke down again, and it stung you in the heart. You didn’t want to cry in front of him seeing as you may begin to have him start feeling more guilt so you brought him back into your embrace, he couldn’t even hug you back feeling like he wasn’t worthy of touching you again.

“Please don’t apologize Sanji… everything you did under my consent and was amazing I wouldn’t have had it any other way..you didn’t hurt me. I really did love it. I should have threw out those stupid cigarettes anyways….” You rubbed the back of his head pushing it down gently so he can rest it on your shoulders, “I’m not mad at you either…there is no reason why you shouldn’t feel like you could have been anything less than respectful towards my body, baby…” As you were kneeled beside him on the edge of the bed you held up his wet face, “Remember before we started? You gave me a safe word? If I thought you went to far I would have used it. And I didn’t. You were perfect Sanji…in every way….”

He looked up into your eyes, he actually had no recollection of telling you about a safe word so he didn’t believe you for a moment, but the memory began to flash back. “Safe word?”

“Mmhm! It was blue. And I didn’t use it because I didn’t need to…i really enjoyed myself Sanji. I’m a big girl I can handle a bit of roughness from my Prince.” You let out an airy giggle, but Sanji was still looking into your eyes trying find any tinge of lies in your words, but just like any other thing you tell him; it was the truth. Sanji looked down with your hands still cupping him so you made him look back up, “Do you trust me?”

“…I do.” He whispered. “I just…I wasnt myself….and I’m sorry.”

“I know you weren’t, but I still trusted you and that’s why I allowed you to use me….so no harm no foul.” You wiped the rest of his tears as he sniffed and cleared his throat. He probably would have felt so self conscious crying in front of you like a baby, but he was comfortable, he felt judged free, and that was because he was around you. “I love you, Sanji.”

“…Please…” he grabbed your hand, “Please can I take care of you tonight…?”

You knew you couldn’t protest, catering to you was what he loved as much as cooking so you nodded. Sanji knew it was going to take sometime for him to let go of the resentment he had for what he did, but he believed you would be with him every step of the way for it.

“Common…” He pulled off the remainder sheets from your body to then wrap around you. “Let me draw you a bath.”

You hummed feeling him carefully hold you up bridal style and headed to the bathroom.

He sat you on the clean counter to turn on the water and adjust it to your liking. He placed some fancy soap on the side he got and even pulled some of the fresh lavender in the corner of the bathroom and placed it inside.

“Lavender?” You questioned looking at him from afar.

“It’s good for sore muscles.”

He walked over to your happy smile and curled his lip. You seemed to be still so happy and full of energy so he managed to feel himself breath a little bit more easily. “You okay?”

“Mmhm!” You hummed, He unwrapped the sheet from your body and gave a shaky exhale at the bruises once again, you noticed this and touched his bare chest, “Sanji ….can you give me a kiss please?…I missed them.”

This was the first time he hesitated on physical contact with you. What if he kisses too hard? What if you don’t like it?

“No.” You say as if you were reading his mind, “I want a kiss.”

Sanji leaned in and pecked your lips, they were so soft and plump so he went in for a another, but then pull back. You mentally sighed wanting a little more but you did not mind having to go slow with him.

“Common..” He carried you to the bath and you realized this was the first time he held you as you were naked and didn’t even make eye contact with your body, let alone drool over it. It kind of shocked you.

You let out a loud sigh feeling the hot water touch your cold aching skin. The smell of lavender put your lingering headache at ease and you smiled brightly at your Prince as if you were thanking him through your eyes.

It was a comfortable silence as Sanji sat over the tub to massage and scrub your body. He quickly looked on the counter and found your bonnet. He ended up putting your wild hair in two braids and putting the bonnet on you, kissing your temple in the process.

“Thank you, Sanji…I love you.”

“I love you too, so much.” He exhaled rubbing your shoulders. He gave your left shoulder a small kiss before rubbing it over with some soap on the wash cloth.

“Sanji…can you come in here with me? Please?” You almost didn’t ask, you wasn’t sure if Sanji wanted to but you had no sexual intention behind it. You just wanted to hold him. “We can just talk like we usually do. I know you feel kinda sore too.”

“Y-yes.” He stuttered, You kept your back turned, hearing his bottoms hit the floor to eventually hear his body drop in the water beside you. “Better?”

“No.” You moved yourself over between his legs to lower your back onto his damp chiseled chest. “Now it’s better.”

Sanji hummed in content and finished washing you, some of your bruises and bite marks began to fade a bit giving him some relief. It was nothing but the echoes of the water being moved around for a moment until you looked down to see his hand awkwardly on his own thigh, so you grabbed it to intertwine your fingers with his.

“You’re so special, Sanji…” You played with his fingers. You don’t why why you always do it, but it gave you a form of comfort when you were close to him. “Your are my special babyboy. My Prince….my…future husband.”

You felt him pause his circular motions he was rubbing on your tummy, marriage has always been a big topic between you both. He always ask you to marry him and you always playfully agreed to make him happy but deep down you could see it.

You can see being his wife, carrying his children.

You can see yourself being Y/N Vinsmoke, and even if he doesn’t want you with that terrible name he can have yours.

You continued since Sanji now had your full attention, “I don’t want you…to ever think that I couldn’t love you any less. No matter what you do. You’re stuck with me.” You giggled, “And I want to be stuck with you…You’ve been my first everything…and I want you to be my last and only everything….and…”

You don’t know why, but you started to get emotional yourself. Was the guilt you subtly felt? Was it your telling Sanji the truth? Was it the atmosphere? You didn’t know but you just swallowed hard and sniffed, “and I do love you, Sanji…I’m in love with you…all of you. Your flaws, your strengths your weaknesses…I love it all so don’t ever think I feel the opposite….don’t ever change Sanji..”

You turned to him in one fell motion to kiss him, this was probably the most realest kiss you’ve ever given this man, it was needy and hungrily, but passionate. Eventually both of you had small tears fall down pulling back, but you didn’t care. You brushed back his bangs revealing both of his pretty eyes and kissed his eyebrows. It was an insecurity he had but you didn’t care they were beautiful to you.

Sanji didn’t have much to say. He felt so overwhelmed with feelings. You sighed happily feeling his arms curl into your waist. In head was in your neck as you felt his tears drop onto your collarbone. In this very moment It was Just you and him. In this moment Sanji felt loved, he felt comfortable, he felt safe, and he felt forgiven for his actions.

“I don’t know what id do without you…” His voice Just above a whisper, rubbing circles on your back. You stayed like that for a while lightly rocking back at fourth. the water began to still and get cold so you both decided to clean up a bit more and go back to the bedroom and sleep for the last bit of hours you had left before everybody woke up again.

Sanji cleaned the sheets and carried you back on the bed which you felt much less sore but he still insisted you don’t walk for the rest of the night.

He brought over the snacks and drinks for you. You both were refreshed and happier so it was nothing but mindless chatter for a little bit as you ate.

“Shit..” Sanji huffed seeing the subtle light of the sun crack through the window above you both noticing y’all have talked almost all night. “I have to head to the kitchen in like an hour.”

“That’s okay.” You giggled laying flat on your back on the bed reaching your arms out, “Let me hold you for a second.”

His cheeks were a bit pink as your suggestion. Especially since you were wearing his button down shirt and your breast spilled through it showing your unerect nipples. You laughed at his reaction and just grabbed him to lay atop of your chest.

“S-so soft!” Sanji sung a little with excitement rubbing his head on you, you could feel the subtle heart eyes he had and you smiled warmly knowing your Sanji was better.

“I love you, my Prince.” You hummed kissing his head. He squeezed you a little,

“I love you, too, my love.”

[n4giism]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ break you off by sonder ࿐ྂ

bllk x gn!reader

characters: kenyu yukimiya, tabito karasu, eita otoya, shouei barou, oliver aiku, michael kaiser, gin gagamaru

content: their nicknames part 2!

ari’s note: omd guys yall rly seemed to like part 1 of this nickname series so i thought i should write a part 2😜 here it is hope u like it !

part 1

kenyu yukimiya:

— yukki

people call him this often. it’s the name he introduces himself with.

“hello, my name is yukimiya. but you can just call me yukki.” because he’s friendly and chill like that.

you and all his friends call him this and he addresses himself as ‘yukki’ too. it’s such a cute name.

— ken

ken! that means you are his barbie <3 he likes joking around with this name and you do too!

well it is true, he would do anything for you like how ken does anything for barbie.

if you like to watch barbie movies/series he’ll gladly watch them with you too. i feel like yukki is also the type of guy who isn’t afraid to wear pink in public he’s ALL for it.

— ken-not see

i feel like karasu and otoya made fun of him with this😭

like just imagine this silly trio arguing and yukki brings up something like, “why don’t you stop putting so much gel in your hair, some of it seeped into your brain and now you’re all stupid!” to karasu and the room goes silent.

otoya giggles a bit and before y’know it karasu it biting back with, “yeah? at least i can see! ken-yu see?! how ‘bout that?!”

yukki is shocked and otoya is just laughing to himself watching this unfold and now, karasu has yukki’s contact changed to “ken-not see”.

tabito karasu:

— tabi

such a cute name for a manly guy. you call him this often and he seems to like it. sometimes he likes it so much that he won’t respond if you call him “tabito” or “karasu”

he’ll only respond if you call him ‘tabi’!!!

and only from you!! like if his friends call him ‘tabi’ he’ll ignore it because it’s special and only for you to use.

— tiramisu

the two of you were playing around with words and you somehow managed to connect the word ‘tiramisu’ to his full name.

the ‘t’ is taken from ‘tabito’, and ‘tiramisu’ rhymes with ‘karasu’ hence this ridiculous but funny nickname came to be.

— kraasu

like just imagine the typos you make when you text him and one day ‘kraasu’ popped up and you haven’t let it go ever since.

i guess it’s also an easier way to say ‘karasu’ it’s basically just shortened to ‘krasu’ y’know!

eita otoya:

— ei

he doesn’t really mind it, but it’s cute. just ‘ei’.

— toyota

he frowns a little when people call him this but he doesn’t stop them. it’s like a playful name for ‘otoya’.

sometimes people confuse his name as ‘toyota’ like the car too so!

— yoda

if you take his last name ‘otoya’ and just merely play around with it and mix up the letters to ‘yota’ it sounds just like ‘yoda’!

and it suits him (???) because of the green in his hair just like the actual yoda from star wars!

shouei barou:

— sho/shou

simple. short. easy.

barou likes it when you call him this, it’s cute and he replies to this name.

— baron bunny

kinda like amber from genshin💀 i’m so sorry if you don’t play but basically there’s a character who has these bombs that explode and she calls them baron bunny.

idk i just thought barou’s name is similar to baron when i first started bllk lolol

— barou, barou, kyun!

LMAO nagi and isagi will not let this ago during that blue lock selection games. when you started dating barou and met with his friends from bllk they were quick to tell you about how barou acted during their time in blue lock.

nagi having a fever dream about barou being a maid and isagi adding on to it with barou wearing a maid costume and chigiri would’ve done his makeup with bright red lipstick.

it’s funny to think about…

oliver aiku:

— oli

sometimes he doesn’t like it because of oli london😭 but it sounds so nice and the way it rolls off your tongue makes him melt so he forgets about that cursed koreaboo and just loves when you call him this.

— ai/aiku

he especially loves ‘ai’ because it translates to ‘love’!

so it’s kinda like you’re calling him ‘love’ when you call him ‘ai’ ugh he just loves it.

— captain

you joke around and call him this when he tells you to do something.

“y/n, could you get more of my protein snacks from the store later?” “yes, captain.”

“y/n, could you help to time my runs today?” “of course, captain.”

it doesn’t faze him, he’s so used to being called captain by his teammates that he doesn’t really care.

michael kaiser:

— micha

pronounced as ‘mika’. it’s cute, he smirks a little when you call him this.

— kai

i guess he likes this too! it’s simple and easy to pronounce.

— liebling/schatz

he loves when you call him any of these names. any german term of endearment, he just loves it.

he’ll also call you this too, and so you picked it up from him and begun calling him these lovely names too!!!

gin gagamaru:

— ginnie

he smiles sooo wide his eyes close when you called him this for the first time. he didn’t know how much he loved being called a nickname until it slipped out of your mouth!

“you’re calling me that? that’s so cute…” he mutters, all smiley and giggly.

i guess there are two pronounciations for this. it could be “ginnie” with a g, or like “jinnie”!!!

— gaga/lady gaga

he was confused at first like “who is lady gaga” until you explained to him and he likes it!

he thinks it’s silly and cute.

— gin

short and sweet. he likes his name already but he loves it even more when you call him this. it just melts his heart and he just loves you so much :,)

end.

[marc-spectorr]

lessons in touch // part 1

ˣ pairing: steven grant x reader

ˣ summary: an inexperienced steven turns to you, his best friend, for advice ahead of a date. you happily agree to give him a few pointers, including a quick guide on how to kiss. but what starts out as an innocent favor ends up unearthing feelings that steven has buried for so long, complicating things more as his lessons in touch with you unexpectedly continue.

ˣ warnings: 5.8k wc. mentions of sex. fluff/angst.

ˣ a/n: this is my first full-length fic in forever so pls be gentle with me here ;-; this will be a series with smut in later chapters, though i cant promise frequent updates lolol. still, i hope you enjoy!

- ☾-

Steven is having an exceptional morning.

He’d surprisingly woken up fully rested, had enough time to pour himself a bowl of cereal for breakfast, and caught the 8:30 bus to work without much hassle. There was even a seat available for Steven once he boarded. However, he ended up letting an elderly woman sit there after she hopped on at the next stop.

His good deed was rewarded when she handed him a piece of his favorite toffee. Although accepting candy from strangers isn’t always the best thing to do, he appreciated the lovely gesture anyhow.

It didn’t halt there, though. Much to his delight, Steven was informed that Donna would be gone for the next several days. Something about coming down with a very nasty cold over the weekend. Sure, he’s decent enough to wish his infuriating manager to get better soon. Still, her absence means that he could work in utter peace in the meantime, which is a rarity in itself.

For now, there would be no snarky remarks. No threats to shove him into a sarcophagus. No, “Stevie, stop annoying the customers and start selling to them,” or “Stevie, you bumbling idiot, why can’t you do your job right?”

God, he really hated that name. Stevie. What was so difficult for Donna to call him by his actual name?

But besides the point, everything was going splendidly well. It wasn’t too busy at the museum on this cloudy Monday. There wasn’t much to do aside from checking out at the register and tidying up the merchandise displayed ever so often.

At one point, a little boy approached Steven as he rearranged the Tawaret plushies in a neat, organized pyramid shape. The child had shown quite an interest in them, and Steven had been more than happy to introduce the stuffed toy of the hippo goddess to him.

Steven loved this unofficial part of his job, sharing tidbits of history to those willing to listen, young or old. He believes that he’d be a fantastic tour guide; he’s more than qualified for it. Perhaps one day, it’ll happen.

Perhaps, perhaps.

Noon arrives in a blink of an eye, and Steven steps out of the gift shop area in time for his lunch break. He heads to the break room on the second floor with a pep in each step. Smiling and greeting each person that he comes across, not minding if they choose to ignore him. He was in a great mood, enthusiastic and eager more than usual. Today is turning out to be such an easy shift on what’s already a wonderful day.

Not to mention how excited Steven is for the dinner he has with Dylan later that evening. She’s a total sweetheart, one of the few genuinely nice people he works with. Every time Dylan was around, she’d often stop by to say hi to him, even if she was rushing to get her tour started. He doesn’t recall the very moment he asked her out; his memory is a little spotty as of late, but did it really matter? Steven was finally going on a date after what seemed like forever, and he was planning on making it as perfect as it could be.

Rounding the corner to where the employee lounge is, Steven’s ears suddenly perk up upon catching his name through the slightly ajar door. Instantly, he recognizes one of the voices coming from inside— Dylan’s.

A part of him didn’t want to stand there and eavesdrop, but it piqued his curiosity. So he loiters in the hallway, listening to the muffled conversation in the other room.

“A date? With Steven? Steven Grant from the gift shop? Him?” The other woman chatting with Dylan asked almost incredulously. Steven is certain that it’s Leslie, a seasoned tour guide who he isn’t particularly fond of, considering how frequently she talks about people behind their back. And he is her latest topic of conversation, as it would appear.

“Yeah,” he overhears Dylan’s reply, and there’s a softness to her voice. One that made Steven’s heartbeat flutter. “He asked me out to dinner a couple of days ago, and I always thought he was cute, so I said yes.”

A demeaning chuckle erupts from Leslie, and Steven rolls his eyes. “Huh, good luck with him, I guess.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Steven shifts closer to the entrance, careful to remain unseen by pressing himself against the wall.

“Oh, you know. Steven is… how should I say this— he just strikes me as the inexperienced type, if you get what I’m trying to say.”

Inexperienced? Hearing that causes him to stiffen, his stomach twisting into a tight knot. It’s like a punch to the gut, a sensation he couldn’t easily shake off.

“Really?” There’s a mixture of disbelief in Dylan’s tone. “I mean, I don’t think that should be an issue.”

“Maybe, but come on, Dylan. Shall I go through your history of exes and recount to you the one common thread between them all, which was how they made your sex life more thrilling? As a friend, I’m only giving you a heads up. Because to me, Steven Grant has probably never even kissed a soul in his life, much less slept with one.”

The last bit stings the most. It isn’t true that Steven was a virgin or had yet to have his first kiss. He wasn’t wholly celibate, but it’d been many, many years since anything of that sort had happened.

Certainly, he remembers his first. They say you never forget your firsts, and that was a time in his life that will last in his memories forever, though not for the good reasons as one would expect.

His first kiss with his first girlfriend was understandably nerve-wracking. Awkward and hesitant, but for 20-year-old Steven, it was normal. First kisses were supposed to be that way. Yet from what he can recall, things did not get better for him, unfortunately.

Barely kissing him after that, he’d been pressured by her to have sex. It’s not that Steven didn’t want to, but he wasn’t ready. That it was still too early in their relationship to do so. Not wishing to upset her, however, he reluctantly agreed after her constant badgering.

It was only then did Steven realized the truth: that despite thinking he loved her, she only lusted for him. Took advantage of his vulnerability and robbed him of something special and intimate. He’d never felt so used.

And if that weren’t bad enough, the woman broke up with him soon after he lost his virginity to her. Giving Steven the most unoriginal excuse in the world— “it’s not you, it’s me.”

Deep down, Steven knew it was him. It’s always him. The whole experience and its aftermath have had an effect on him, lasting up to now. Though he yearns to be with someone, to find unconditional love one day, it hasn’t been easy, especially in this day and age when the hook-up culture is prevalent. Lots of people quickly get turned off if you aren’t an expert in bed, and it’s why Steven has felt so deterred from the dating scene, among other reasons that he doesn’t want to touch on just yet.

So when he found out that he had a date with Dylan, he was less fraught about it. Simply because Steven knows her, and she’d always been friendly with him. He thought that his lack of intimate experience in his late thirties wouldn’t matter to her. That she’d be different, that she’d understand and would be okay with it.

Now? Steven isn’t too sure.

And frankly, he’s crestfallen to learn that he has been possibly wrong about her all this time.

Losing his appetite entirely, Steven dejectedly saunters away from the area, tossing the cold sandwich he packed this morning into a nearby rubbish bin. He didn’t wait long enough to hear Dylan’s response. Not that he wanted to, assuming that what she’ll say next would crush his spirits further.

And just like that, his bright and jolly demeanor is washed away by his fears and his insecurities— his thoughts of not being good enough for anyone.

The remainder of his shift goes by uneventfully. Steven’s interactions with the guests have become dry and lackluster. For the first time since clocking in, he was staring at the clock and counting the minutes down until he could punch out.

He’d receive a text from Dylan a half an hour before the museum closed, not even bothering to ask him in person if they’re still on for tonight. To be polite, Steven replies, “yes,” however. Thinking it would be rude to cancel at the last minute.

Still, he already knows that his heart wouldn’t be fully into it.

Just one dinner, and don’t expect more, he convinces himself as he closes up shop for the night. He tells himself again as he boards the bus back home. Once more as he stands there in the middle of the packed bus, holding onto a handgrip while staring at the darkening horizon passing by. Steven says it a final time as he gets off at the stop across his flat, pushing past the sea of passersby crowding the street until he finally reaches the front door.

It’s quiet the moment he steps inside the building, the door shutting behind him with a soft click. Steven lingers by the entryway for some time; glassy eyes slide shut with his head knocked back against the metal frame as he lets out a long exhale from his nostrils.

“Bad day, I take it?”

Steven slowly blinks his eyes open, and it’s as if the ache in his chest swiftly settles at the sound of your voice. He allows a small smile to flicker on his face when he spots you standing by the mailboxes with several letters in hand and balancing a package on your hip.

Truth be told, you never fail to make him smile. That’s why you’re his favorite person in the world, followed by his mother and Gus, of course.

“Yeah, you can say that,” Steven mumbles lukewarm before striding across the foyer and easing your struggle by carrying the box for you. “Let me get this for you, darling.”

“Thanks, Steven,” you return, your gaze never leaving his. A hand gently closes around Steven’s bicep, then a soft squeeze in reassurance. “Seriously, though. Is everything okay? What happened at work?”

He doesn’t answer your question immediately. Instead, Steven silently strolls to the lift down the hall. He takes his time searching for the right words to explain his predicament. Not that he’s afraid of sharing details so personal— not when you and he have been close friends since you moved into the studio next door to him.

Best friends, you would call yourselves, as a matter of fact. Two inseparable peas in a pod. Steven could always count on you to have his back; he could tell you any secrets he has buried deep within, and he wouldn’t worry about you betraying his trust.

Steven has never had this— has never had someone like you in his life. A friend, a confidante. Nobody has ever been as kind and caring to Steven as you are. Before he met you, he thought people like you didn’t exist. Or perhaps they do, but he’s one of the very few unlucky ones that don’t get the pleasure of knowing someone with a tender heart similar to yours.

Fate is something Steven’s unsure of whether or not it is real. But if it were, he’d thank the universe and beyond for letting him cross paths with you.

“It’s uh— nothing. No need to worry, love,” he dismisses, offering up a smile in an attempt to persuade you to drop the subject.

Steven starts heading towards the elevator, and you trail closely behind, shaking your head. “Hey, don’t lie to me. I know you, Steven. I know you well enough to know that something’s clearly wrong. I’m not going to let you sulk around and continue having a shitty day. What kind of a friend would I be? So, spill. Please? Pretty please?”

You bat your eyes at him, and he swears you’re doing that on purpose. Steven knows you well enough to know that you could get anything you want from him just by fluttering those beautiful eyes of yours. You have him wrapped around your finger, making it nearly impossible for him to deny you right then and there.

Honestly, he could use some advice from you. Maybe a laugh or two to cheer him up. You’re always so good with that. Too good that it’s almost magical. You always know exactly what to say to make him feel incredibly happy, even after suffering a quote-on-quote, shitty day.

A light ding of the bell and the automatic doors of the lift part open, the two of you shuffling inside wordlessly, and Steven hits the last number that’ll send you both to your shared floor.

On the ride up, that’s when he explains it all. The date with Dylan, the conversation he had overheard in the break room, and the fact that he’s still going out tonight. By the time you got to your flat, he had miserably told you everything, including his lack of experience.

“And, so that’s mainly it. Apologies for boring you with my situation; I must sound like a fool for even bringing this up—”

“Steven,” you interject before he can go on with his rambling. “Don’t be sorry. I-I can’t believe you never told me about this before.”

“You never asked,” Steven shrugs, his gaze falling to the floor below but returning to meet yours when you slip a warm hand into his. “Also, I… I was a bit too embarrassed to admit it if I have to be honest. I never found the right partner, and I didn’t want to go out there to find the first stranger who’s attracted to me and willing to— you know…”

He need not explain any further. Judging by the look of sorrow etched in your features, you quickly caught on to what he meant.

A soft sigh escapes your lips, and Steven’s sure he sees tears forming in the corner of your eyes. It’s not that you pitied him. You truly care for him and learning that his firsts have soured most of the positive feelings attached to physical intimacy shatters your heart.

“Hey, that’s nothing to be ashamed of, really. I promise you, you’re not the only person in the world who’s not eager to jump into bed with just anyone. Not everyone’s so casual about sex.”

Steven gives you a small wry smile, something that doesn’t reach his eyes.

As opposed to him, you were usually an open book when it comes to sex. He’s not unaware of your escapades. He’s either known about them directly from you or when he awkwardly runs into your one-night stands as they exit from your flat in the early morning hours.

Needless to say, he never judges you for this. You have your needs, just like he has his. The only difference is that you go out and seek a remedy while he takes care of things with his hand, albeit frustratingly.

“Hey, it’s endearing that you prefer to take things slow. God, I wish there were other men like you out there,” you chuckle lightly at the end, briefly cupping his cheek into your palm. “So, are you still going on that date?”

He hums meekly as the warmth of your hand leaves him. “I-I don’t know, should I? I confirmed with Dylan because I felt terrible if I backed out at the last minute.”

“Look, from what you told me, I think Dylan is a sweet lady, and she didn’t say anything bad about you. Plus, you left before she could respond. You don’t know if she agreed with Leslie or not, but my bet is that she didn’t.”

A pause. Steven ponders over it for a moment, mulling the possibility of you being right. In which case, in all the years he has known you, you’re almost always right. It’s pretty scary at times how accurate your intuition could be. Call it a superpower or a sixth sense, but whatever your gut tells you, he would usually believe it too.

“Okay,” Steven eventually nods with a breath, beginning to feel slightly enthused with the dinner this evening. “Maybe I overreacted a bit, yeah?”

“No, you’re good. It’s all good, just a big misunderstanding,” you assure him softly, and it’s all he needs to hear from you. “Alright, let me set my stuff down inside, and I’ll help you get ready for tonight. If I’m not mistaken, this is your first date in quite some time?”

His voice grows quiet once more. “Mmhmm, yep. First date in what— a year, perhaps? I’m not even sure I have fancy enough clothes to wear in an upscale restaurant. I should have thought of that way ahead, damn it.”

“Come on, now. I’m sure we can find something in your closet! How much time do we have?”

Steven glances at the watch hugging his wrist. “We’ve got around an hour and a half.”

“Perfect,” you beam brightly at him. “That’s enough time to make you look absolutely irresistible.”

- ☾-

After two or three laborious attempts, Steven’s neck-tie is still crooked. His blue dress shirt, blazer, and trousers are all wrinkly and smell like mothballs from being stored away for the longest time. The longer he had those clothes on, the more he thought how ridiculous he looked.

It took you and him nearly thirty minutes to go through his entire wardrobe, and this is the best outfit you could put together at a moment’s notice. The reflection in the mirror doesn’t lie, and bloody hell, this is starting to become a disaster. He isn’t even out of the door yet!

Maybe he should cancel now before his appearance is what makes him a fool out of himself.

“Steven? Are you done changing in there?” He hears you checking on him from outside of the bathroom. “Hellooo?”

An amused chortle tumbles out of Steven’s mouth. “Patience is a virtue, darling. But I’m done, coming out now…”

Through his observations, there are merely a handful of things that leave you speechless. One of which is the stars. 

He particularly remembers one late night when you came over to his flat, excitingly taking him by the hand and dragging him to the nearest open window from the door.

For what seemed like seconds passing into hours, you both gazed in wondrous awe at the heavenly sight above. Trillions of white sparkling diamonds dot the inky canvas of the London sky. It was beautiful, so beautiful and breathtaking, and not a sound fell from your lips throughout the viewing. You had been too absorbed, too fascinated with the glittering stars, to utter a single word.

That very same awestruck face you made could be compared to how you’re staring at Steven right now, and he feels a gentle warmth spreading over his cheeks. The admiration gleaming in your eyes and the delicate curl of your lips makes his heart soar and his stomach light with butterflies. No one has ever looked at him the way, nothing even remotely close to it.

Steven thinks he heard the slight hitch in your throat, but before he could put a meaning to it, your lips were parting to speak.

“Whew… Dylan’s one lucky gal,” you whistle, flustering him even further. “Here, let me…”

He draws in a sharp intake of air as your nimble fingers straighten his collar and his tie, brows furrowing in deep concentration. Steven hopes you don’t notice how deeply fixated his eyes are on you or how he’s swallowing hard at the proximity of your bodies. You’re standing near enough for him to smell your lingering perfume, light and sweet with a subtle hint of floral notes.

Thoughtlessly, he licks his drying lips and then exhales your name in a soft breath, catching the glimmer in your eyes as your gaze flickers up to his.

Steven’s heart thrums wildly in the cage of his ribs, his mind locked in a daze, unable to think clearly of anything else besides you. Your bright smile, your intoxicating laugh, your gentle touch. The way you sweetly say his name and the way you make him happy without even trying.

How you’re the only person in his life that understands him, treats him like he’s worth every bit of kindness you’ve shown.

You, it’s always been you. From the moment you said “hello” to him and introduced yourself with the warmest of smiles, it has always been you. 

You, the only one he has ever loved since the first woman who’d broken his heart— and the only one who has ever loved him back, though not in the way he dreamt of.

Falling for you, falling in love with you, is the one thing Steven has never told you before. The sole secret that may never get to see the light of day. Despite how close the two of you have grown, you’d never shown interest in him beyond friendship. Your love for him is strictly platonic, or at least, that’s what he’s led to believe.

Also, it’s not like Steven has any chance with you. He’s seen the men you’ve dated, the type you’re attracted to, and he’s nothing like them. Far from it, in actuality. He’s no match for them; you’re simply way out of his league.

So Steven didn’t dare to risk it— this perfect relationship you and he already have with each other.

He didn’t dare to risk losing you.

Therefore, he pushes these feelings aside, locks them away in the furthest depths of his mind, and pretends that they never existed, that he never entertained the thought. 

Yet, it doesn’t mean it hurts less for Steven, seeing you in the arms of others, smiling in a way that makes his heart pang with disappointment. It’s a blissful agony, this pain that comes more often than it goes, and all he could do was bear the gnawing at his soul, hoping that he wouldn’t crack.

“You okay, Steven?” your honeyed voice lures him out of musings, and he stutters out a breath when you smooth your hands over his blazer.

“Y-Yeah,” he murmurs feebly. “I’m okay, just… nervous, I think. Haven’t gone on a date in a while, and I’m afraid I’ll screw things up.”

It isn’t a total lie that Steven tells you, but rather half the truth. Yes, he’s a little anxious about tonight, but most of his jitteriness is because of all these sudden thoughts he has of you. It’s as if your touch alone has brought back the sensations he has suppressed over the years. He tries to push them to the back of his head, ignoring how his heart is longing for you and only you.

It’s easier said than done.

“No, don’t say that. You’re not going to mess this up. Wanna know how I’m sure of that?” For a beat, you step aside to wet your hands at the sink behind him, returning to stand in front of him soon after to style his unruly dark curls. “Because you’re you, Steven. You’re the sweetest, smartest, and kindest man I’ve ever met. I don’t doubt for even a second that you’ll charm the hell out of Dylan so much; she’s going to want a second date right after tonight.”

Grinning, you slowly urge Steven to turn around so he can look at himself in the mirror. “That guy right there? He’s one of a kind. Every man and woman on this planet would be begging to have a chance with him, and I really hope you can see that.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he stops himself from asking the question on the tip of his tongue.

What about you? Would you be begging for a chance to be with him too?

“Thank you,” Steven ultimately sighs, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. “I– uh, I truly appreciate your help.”

“Anytime, Steven,” you whisper, kissing him softly on the cheek. “I want you to find happiness and love out there. You deserve it more than anyone.”

He deserves it.

He knows he does.

He craves it more than anything— to be happy and to be loved.

Solely by you.

Steven fidgets with his hands, his gaze drifting to the leather shoes he wears. No, it can’t be you. It won’t be you. No matter how much he wants it to be you, he must fully accept that it would likely never happen.

And to do that, he needs to start here. Right now, as his dinner with Dylan fast approaches.

But there still lies a problem.

“You’re overthinking again,” comes your remark, brows knitting a frown seeing the tension marring his face. “Talk to me, Steven. What’s on your mind?”

“Do you honestly think that me being so… inexperienced is something that she won’t mind at all? I only ask because, well— I’ve never even kissed anyone in almost… hell, I lost count of how long it’s been. Wait— should I kiss her at the end of the night?”

An interval of silence passes by before you reply to his query. “No, I don’t believe she won’t mind that. And to answer your other question, if the moment is right, go for it. But if not, or maybe you’re not comfortable enough, then don’t.”

“But what if it does feel right? What if she expects me to kiss her? I’m a little out of practice here and—”

“Then kiss me.”

Steven’s body freezes up. For a split second, he assumed that he had heard you wrong. That his brain was playing a cruel trick on him, making him hear words that were never actually spoken out loud. Words that he’d imagine leaving your lips one too many times. 

But then you ask him once more— this instance slightly firmer yet still soft enough that the request could have been genuinely sincere in his ears.

“Kiss you? Wha— why for, darling?” His voice is trembling as he feigns strict reluctance, silently hoping you don’t take it as an offense.

“You say you’re out of practice, so let’s fix that. We have like what— ten minutes before you have to leave? If it does come down to kissing Dylan at some point tonight, then I want you to be somewhat prepared. That’s if you don’t mind, of course.”

In any other circumstance, Steven would have kissed you in a heartbeat. If only you gave him a chance.

A real chance, and not this.

It takes Steven every ounce of strength in his body to maintain his composure. He blinks a few times, standing there unmoved like a deer caught in headlights. Then, there’s a hand on his shoulder— your hand— and he notices how there’s suddenly barely any space between you and him.

“Kiss me, and I’ll tell you if there’s anything you need to work on.”

Swallowing thickly, Steven stammers out your name, his face flushing with heat. “No-no, we don’t have to. It’s totally fine, dear. I-I can manage on my own, I think.”

“Oh, come on,” you grouse. “Steven, you trust me, right?”

He nods his head in response.

“Then let me help you with this. Just look at this as a trial run. You kiss me, have a feel for what it’s like again since it’s been so long for you. When it comes time to kiss Dylan, whether that’d be tonight or hopefully on a different day, you won’t get as highly strung about it.”

Time’s ticking, and Steven’s deliberating your suggestion as if it were a life-or-death decision. This isn’t a good idea. How on earth could this quell the storm of feelings he has for you? Kissing you is both everything he ever wanted and the worst thing that could happen at that moment. He’s tempted and afraid simultaneously, and he can’t focus on what his logical self is trying to say.

Do it.

Don’t do it. Are you mad?

Do it, and you won’t have to panic if the opportunity presents itself.

Don’t do it. You’ll end up suffering at the fact that you’ll never get to kiss—

Do it, or it will be your biggest regret and—

Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t— do it. Just do it.

Just this once, do it.

“Never mind, it’s okay if you don’t—”

Whatever words you had to say are stolen away from your mouth as Steven claims it with his. Eyes shut tight with his hands clasped on your shoulders, the kiss is slow and hesitant, barely skimming the surface of your lips. His angle as he kisses you is off; his neck is craned in an odd position that a kink begins to form. That, plus he’s quickly running out of air, becoming mildly lightheaded as he forgets one of the most important things there is in kissing— and that is to breathe.

But how could Steven remember how to when he’s kissing you?

“Steven,” you mumble against his lips, and he forcibly pulls himself away.

“Oh, dear god, that was awful for you, wasn’t it? I-I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable in any way. Can we please forget—”

“Wait, no, it’s not that, Steven,” you express. “It wasn’t awful. I thought the kiss was nice, actually. Trust me, I’ve had worse kisses than that. Yours isn’t as bad as you think.”

That makes him smile. “I— uh, thank you. You saying that means a lot, really. Kind of reassuring, too. But, erm… what advice could you give me to, umm, be better at it?”

“Well, first thing’s first, I need you to relax a little more. I could feel how tense your body was while we were kissing.”

“Relax more, got it,” Steven agrees, writing a mental note as he steadies his rapidly beating heart. “What else?”

“Hmm… it’s much better if I show you, honestly. May I?”

Your fingers delicately reach for his hand resting on his side as he gives you a “yes” in a hushed tone. Smiling softly, you bring it to your face, pressing his palm against your warm cheek. “Hold me like this, okay?”

“Okay,” Steven sighs, waiting patiently for the following instruction.

“When you’re going in for the kiss, tilt your head a bit… a little more, yup, that’s it. Then, slowly lean in—”

Fluttering his eyes closed, his lips a hair’s breadth from yours now, breaths mingling together as your gentle voice guides him on what to do next.

“This is the part where you let instincts take over. Do whatever feels right. Just relax, and don’t forget to breathe through your nose. I’ll lead, and you follow. If you want to stop, and you can if you have to, then go ahead. Are you ready?”

“Ready,” Steven confirms, voice barely above a whisper.

And he waits. He waits, and he waits until finally, he senses you leaning in to close the tiniest gap, your plush lips pressing against his. Then, Steven’s kissing you again— this time, it’s much sweeter, more tender. More like how he pictured it would be. Your hand holds him by the back of his neck, pulling him in impossibly closer. Your noses brush against each other, and he swears he could feel you smiling into the kiss.

Eventually, your lips start to move against him. Slow at first, as if testing the waters. I’ll lead, and you follow, Steven hears your words echoing from earlier, and he does as he’s told. His lips mold into yours, and he moves in sync with them as much as he can while inhaling softly through the kiss.

Breathe. Don’t forget to breathe.

But, oh, how you smell so lovely. So sweet and so divine.

Steven would remain this way forever…

If only he could. If only he wasn’t so afraid.

He commits this all to memory; the softness of your lips, the gentleness of your touch, the small gasps escaping the back of your throat. Things that Steven would probably not experience again with you. Not when any of this isn’t truly real.

But, for now, he allows himself to melt under your touch. Letting every square inch of his body dissolve into yours as he pretends that you’re his, even if it’s only for the shortest time.

Because at least he’ll have this— the idea of what could be.

The idea of the paradise he’d wished for each night.

When you part minutes after, Steven’s out of breath, and so are you. He feels you slipping away from him, and it’s like he’s about to wake up from a dream. But as his eyes blink open, he meets your tender gaze and the smile playing on your slightly swollen lips.

You’re real; this is real. He had just kissed you, over and over again— and it had all happened in reality, not in the confines of his mind.

“H-How was that?” He breaks the calm stillness of the room.

Your smile only grows. “It’s perfect, Steven. That was… perfect.”

“Good,” he murmurs proudly. “That’s good to know. Thank you.”

“As I said before, Dylan’s one lucky gal.”

Dylan. Steven’s heart sinks at the name.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he says, shoulders slumping as he hides the brokenness of his tone. “I… uh. I should better get going now. I was thinking of buying her some flowers and chocolates to surprise her.”

“Smart move, Steven Grant,” you comment, patting him softly on his chest. “She’s going to love that, I’m sure of it.”

The next couple of minutes is almost a blur to Steven. He doesn’t recall saying much as you gave his hair and outfit one last check before he escorted you out of his flat and down to yours. With a kiss on the cheek and a final bid of good luck, you close the door when he starts ambling to the elevator at the end of the hall.

As Steven waits for the lift to arrive, the warmth of your lips remains lingering on his, his entire body still buzzing with electricity.

But now he’s left uncertain whether he regrets kissing you or not. It felt wrong. Something in Steven felt like what he had done was wrong. That he should have never let it happen, that he should have never let it get that far. 

You would have understood if he had declined your help, but he didn’t. He didn’t say no, and he kissed you.

To you, that kiss meant nothing.

But to Steven, it meant everything.

Surely, his life can’t get more fucked up than this, right?

- ☾-

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[qstea]

hi! would it be possible to get headcanons about what kind of gifts they'd give or what they would do for their relationship anniversary? gender neutral reader for geno, error and if possible, fatal error as well.

(i've never sent an ask before so hopefully this is alright, its ok to refuse. love your writing!! :D)

📎 What They Do for Their Relationship Anniversary ★

Featuring: Geno!Sans, Error!Sans, Fatal_Error!Sans

#Notes: u gave me my top favs tysm *kisses you* srry this took like seven thousand years to make lolol but here u goooo

pronouns used: they/them

Geno Sans

Putting it in simple words, they have no idea what to do for the anniversary.

Definitely goes to Sans for advice and probably rambles about the situation to him. To which Sans just replies ‘get them something memorable, or take them somewhere, like per se, the spot where you met. maybe a vacation?’ and it just all starts to click in Geno’s head.

Alright, so. Their plan is to 1. Take you to the very top of the mountain where they first saw the surface and have a peaceful picnic with you. 2. Buy some of your favorite snacks and a movie you like and eat some popcorn up in their room, and 3. Cuddle and fall asleep together. Perfect anniversary plan.

Still super nervous about how it will go, and isn’t the best at speaking to others. Papyrus and Sans may or may not tag along and make it slightly less peaceful and a little less like alone time between the two of you.

If that does happen, it makes the atmosphere somewhat excitable. Geno isn’t the happiest about it, mainly because they really just want to be alone with you and just bathe in each others company, but if you’re enjoying it, they’re enjoying it.

Logically, some things end up backfiring during the anniversary, but it’s the thought that really counts. And for you two, is all that really mattered in the first place.

Error Sans

I don’t see them really caring about anniversaries. But if you’re super into it, they’ll go along with it.

Not really for taking you anywhere? I think they prefer staying in their anti-void and sharing their bean bag with you while watching undernovela (tbh you should’ve seen this coming. come on, it’s error.)

Afterwards, they’ll open a portal to Outertale and you guys can just hang out and watch the stars. Will point out constellations for you and everything. Ink likes to follow you and Error around mostly because he’s genuinely surprised Error managed to get into a relationship with somebody and for this long too! You better bet Ink’s going to make ship art for you guys on your anniversary. Outertale paintings are his specialty., so expect to find a few art pieces near your date spot in Outertale.

Error is mildly embarrassed and flustered when they do find these drawings though.

The kind of monster to make you a tapestry or a plushie of themselves. Not used to giving people gifts so they’ll just throw them out you and scurry away like the rat bastard they are.

The anniversary isn’t remotely well put together but it’s a nice spending it with Error, so it cancels the flaws out.

Fatal Error Sans

He has a vague idea on what an anniversary is supposed to look like. After being in the save screen for so long and then having Error brutally mangle his code, you can imagine just what that shit does to your memory.

You’ll have to bring up the topic of a relationship anniversary for them to even remember that those things exist.

Very busy a lot of the time (killing Papyruses and multiple versions of Swap and piecing their code together to try to make themselves a new brother, yknow the drill) so might not actually even have an anniversary with you.

But you mean the world to him, so if you practically beg him to do something for your anniversary, he will eventually give in.

Again you’re probably gonna have to do a lot of the work. He’ll just go along with whatever you have in mind. He doesn’t mind.

The most they’ll do is steal get some snacks for you.

Might attempt to crochet or knit something for you with his red strings but he’s not that experienced. He’ll definitely learn for you, though.

Most definitely not experienced in the art of romance so be patient with them.

[girlboybug]

Crush

"he looks like he works with his hands, and smells like marlboro reds."

what's playing 🎧: crush by ethel cain

pairing : bfd!joel x reader (no outbreak au)

word count : 14k (oops)

*unedited*

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, age gap, heavy petting, grinding, fingering, handjobs, references to m!masturbation, unprotected sex, creampies, light dirty talk, riding, soft dom!joel, but also switch coded joel if u squint, slight angst kinda sorta

TRIGGER WARNINGS : lowkey dubcon just bc of the power imbalance that comes with the age gap but everything is consensual as always. joel knew the reader when they were 4, 16 years have passed so now they're 20! brief mentions of messy home life and brief descriptions of verbal sexual harassment

A/N : i've been dying to write bfd!joel, and when i heard crush i knew what i had to do lolol. so sorry this took ages, it wasn't supposed to be this long but here we are lol. i hope you guys enjoy <3 comments really motivate me, so if you liked it plz lmk in the comments :3

your eyes continually drift over to the time glowing in the corner of the screen on your register, wondering when joel was supposed to swing by. you pray that he hasn’t forgotten his promise to your dad of checking out your air conditioner to see what needs to be repaired.

the tiny fan that sits beside your half drinken water bottle does little to nothing, and it only adds insult to injury. 

you think back to last night at dinner, in your air conditioned home, about the ‘exciting’ news your dad had to share. he rattled on about how he ran into an old college buddy and family friend, joel miller down at the pro bass shop—and of course it was at the pro bass shop. 

after a few jogs of your slightly depleting memory, you finally, somewhat, remembered a face to the name. you vaguely joined in with your parents’ reminiscing of how he used to come over with his little girl sarah for play dates, and occasionally babysitting you when your parents went out on their date nights. 

they also were quick to tease you about your little crush on him, one you swear you can’t remember, which in your defense, you really don’t, and desperate to change the subject, you asked about his wife, which only worsened the allegations of your crush on him. 

“goin through a divorce, it’s actually why he moved back here, but i’m sure you’re happy to hear that,” your dad snickered with a little nudge, and you wanted to bury your face in the steaming mashed potatoes on your plate. 

once you managed to wrangle them out of the conversation of your alleged feelings towards the man you barely remembered, it was briefly mentioned that he’d be coming by today to check out your broken down air conditioner at the store your parents owned and operated. 

you’re the cashier there, unwillingly of course, but it helps pay for your very expensive books you need for your classes, so it’s not a total issue. however, as you blanky look around the empty sweltering convenience store, you honestly consider closing up early and ubering home to soak in a nice, cold shower. 

the bell that hangs from the door rings at the front entrance, but you’re too tired and worn down by the heat to say your usual greeting, instead deciding to just remain slumped in your small wooden stool, aimlessly trying to angle your mini fan at the most optimal point of your face. 

your peripheral view catches a navy blue hued shirt, and your head lifts upwards to get a better look in case it’s a customer. 

your eyes fall onto an older man smiling down at you, crossed arms bulging from behind his short sleeves. something bubbles in the very pit of your stomach. “mr. miller?” you ask, slightly unsure, but he nods, chuckling when his arms drop to his sides. “heya hun, it’s been awhile, how are you?” he leans in for a hug, and you suddenly don’t feel the sweat that’s been stuck to your skin for the past three hours as you rise to your feet and off the stool to meet his arms that come around your waist. you manage to stutter a response of, “i’m good, and you?” 

“doin’ alright,” he says through a grin– oh god, his grin is so pretty, you think you almost see a cartoonish sparkle glint in his teeth from the fluorescent lighting.

your stomach bubbles up the more you take him in, and oh no. the worst possible thing just came to fruition.

your parents were actually right. 

he pulls back, hands still on the backs of your arms as he takes a moment to really look at you. “you’re so grown up now honey, i remember when you were just this big,” he holds a hand just below his hip and you join in his light laughter, feeling those fluttery feelings you felt all those years ago rush to your chest and tummy like a dormant volcano erupting. 

he hasn’t aged a bit, maybe a few more wrinkles here and there, and the crows feet beside his eyes deepen more now when he smiles, along with the grays that take the place of where some strands of brown used to be. but he’s just as beautiful as your fuzzy memories, if not more. 

“y-you look exactly the same,” you chuckle nervously, trying to not give in to the magnetic pull tempting your eyes in the direction of his chest and abdomen. he grows a little bashful, glancing away for a moment before he replies, a little pinker in the cheeks than before. “i definitely don’t weigh the same, sweetheart,” he sighs playfully, patting his stomach. 

you hear the traces of slight disappointment in his words and it saddens you. you shake your head, feeling even warmer under the heavy feeling from his eyes blanketing over you while you frown ever so slightly. “i think you look great.” you say truthfully, feeling nervous as soon as the words part from you, worried he might think you’re too forward, but instead he smiles again, looking down at his boots. 

“you’re too kind.” he grins, looking back up at you, his fingers running along the side of his beard. you feel flushed, glancing away from his smiles. 

“goddamn, it is hot in here,” he pinches at his shirt, pulling it back and forth to get a slight breeze. you nod vigorously, plopping back into your stool, fanning yourself once more. “i can show you were the ac’s at,” you offer, and he agrees. 

you guide him to the useless machine, eyeing it down with an irritated look, as if it were alive, and purposefully broken down to spite you. 

he walks over to it, bending down to its level and you balance on your heels awkwardly, overthinking on if it’s the correct social etiquette to say anything right now. 

“hmm, lemme get my belt from the truck, i’ll be back hun,” he nods at you, sending you a smile before he disappears out the store and back to his truck. 

when you’re sure he’s out of view, you curl in on yourself, holding your face and opening your mouth to let out a silent scream. 

all it took was seeing him for two seconds, for a crush you didn’t even remember existed until last night to come back immediately. 

when he returns, he sends you a smile before he goes right to work, setting up shop beside the air conditioner, toolbelt wrapped around the alluring circumference of his waist. 

you imagine what it’d be like if it were your hands instead of the worn down leather that envelops him, how his skin would feel in your palms and jesus, you are being so creepy right now. 

he talks while he works, listing about all the things wrong with the ac, jokingly calling your dad a cheapskate for not being willing enough to upgrade to a functioning one that wasn’t manufactured before you were born. and of course, you laugh, leaning against a counter, hoping he just so happens to turn to the side to spare you a glance and notice that you look effortlessly sexy. 

he mainly keeps his focus on the task at hand but, you keep hoping he turns to look over at you at some point. 

no customers have come in yet, and for once you are eternally grateful for a slow day. 

your eyes trail from his biceps, down to his strong forearms, they look safe, secure, like they could hold you and keep you locked in, and his hands…god his hands. 

they’re long, and big. his wide palms that splay across the side of the ac make the machine somehow look small in comparison. his fingers are so skillful, prodding and working at the screws and confusing bits you didn’t even know were a part of the contraption — but honestly the mechanisms of the ac are not what you care about right now. 

you care about how it would feel if it were your sides, your hips, being touched and caressed instead of the machine, and how his big strong hands could hold onto them, grip them, squeeze them tight like a real man would. 

you notice the way he swipes his forearm across his forehead, clearing away the sweat that beads over the skin, feeling bad that he’s doing so much manual labor in such terrible conditions. 

you depart from your shared space for a moment, padding towards the refrigerators stocked full of drinks. 

you return to him, tapping his shoulder and smiling brightly when he looks at you, eyes darting down to the cold root beer in your hands. “for you. least i can offer while you work,” you beam and he chuckles, switching some weight onto his left foot, his hand resting on his hip when he graciously takes the bottle from you. 

“well thank you hun,” he tips his head at you, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig. 

you watch the way his lips curl around the rim, how his hand just about swallows the entire bottle and the way his adam’s apple bobs while he drinks. you have to fight back the urge to squeeze your thighs together to alleviate the tingly feeling spreading inside you. 

“how’d you remember i like root beer?” he asks, eyes peering at you with a warm surprise, his fingers twisting the screwdriver into the side of the ac. 

you hop up onto the counter beside him, swinging your legs while you shrug. “just randomly came to mind i guess,” he turns to look at you, taking note of the way his eyes land on your bare legs first before they flicker back up to your eyes. you feel a little cocky about that. 

“always were a helpful girl,” he says, and you just about glow at his little compliment, folding a leg over the other while you rest on your palms, trying to hide how big your smile grows. 

“thank you,” you say quieter, shyer than you mean to. 

you two converse a bit longer, and you decide to sneakily flip the open sign to closed in the window while you listen to his responses. 

the topic of college is brought up, and you respond to his questions about how it’s going, what you’re majoring in, and you answer, creative writing, feeling flushed when he pauses his work to smile at you. 

“an’ you know what, you always were a storyteller when you were young, i bet you’ve only gotten better since,” he says wistfully, fondly imagining you typing away and creating stories he’d happily read all about. 

he’s not a big reader, but for you? he could be. 

when he finishes up, he calls you over, turning the knob on high and watching as the ac releases what sounds like a guttural groan before a gust of icy air greets your bare arms. 

you gasp and squeal in delight over no longer being slowly cooked to death in your parent’s mini mart.

“thank you mr. miller you’re literally the best,” you gush and he waves you off, gathering his tools as he nears the register. 

“ahh don’t worry ‘bout it. i’m happy to do it. ‘specially if ya had anyone else do it for you, i know you’d get charged damn near an arm and a leg,” he rests his hands on the counter and your eyes trace over his long fingers while you make your way beside him. you feel giddy when you notice the tan line on his ring finger. 

a reminder of the fact that he’s single now. 

you just nod, holding back from saying something along the lines of how you’d be more than happy to pay him for this service with a…different kind of service of your own in return. 

“so how much was the root beer hun?” he asks, flicking through the bills in his wallet. you immediately shake your head, ignoring his protests of accepting a free drink. 

“no that was on the house mr. miller, i will not take your money,” you say stubbornly and he squints at you, huffing in defeat. “you sure? don’t want you gettin’ in trouble with your folks if they find out you’re out here givin things away for free now,” his hands settle on his hips and he gives you a playfully testing look, still managing to cause a flurry of emotions to ripple inside your lower tummy. 

“who’s gonna tell them?” you counter, voice lowering just a little, eyes following in suit as you stare up at him. 

his soft chuckle fades between his parted lips at the shift in your demeanor. his jaw comes down for a second before his lips curl to the side. “alright, thank you sweetpea,” he concedes just an octave above a murmur. 

“is there anything else you wanted to get? because in all seriousness, they’d probably get more upset at me for actually charging you instead of just letting you have it for free.” you say truthfully, feeling positive that your dad wouldn’t mind joel taking a few things home free of charge. 

he holds out that big hand of his, chuckling when his gaze shifts to the ground before it rests back over on you. “nah s’alright hun, root beer was already mighty gracious of you,” but you’re not buying it, you head behind the register, arms extending along the expanse of the wall of products, pretending to sell the items like you’re showcasing the prizes on a game show. 

“you suuure? anything you want, completely free,” you offer temptingly and his lips collect themselves to the side of his mouth, chuckling mutedly, a little shake of his head as he watches you. 

“alright,” he leans forward, and you feel your throat get a little tight at his ministrations, suddenly noticing the slight glimmer of a chain hidden beneath his shirt. 

“can you get me that pack of marlboro reds behind you hun?” he points at the carton of cigarettes, and for some reason his request makes your stomach get tight. 

you think back to how not even a day ago you rambled about your visceral dislike for boys, discarding them as a waste of time — but joel isn’t a boy. he’s a man, and may the version of yourself who existed moments before he came in, forgive you for being a melted pile of hypocritical mush he’s managed to turn you into in the span of less than two hours. 

you can hear your mother’s scoff in your head as you find yourself feeling giggly at his choice of a freebie. it’s just so. manly. 

he’s so manly. 

you hand him the carton and he pockets it, not before taking a cigarette out, deciding to indulge early. “thank you sweetpea,” he smiles, cigarette already being placed between his lips. 

“no problem,” you nod with a grin. he eyes the closed sign before he looks at you once more with a knowing smirk. “closing early i see,” he pointedly nods at the sign and you shrug with a sheepish little smile, neither confirming nor denying the notion. 

“lemme guess—folks won’t mind? and would actually be more upset if you didn’t close up early?” he teases, and it almost feels like flirting. you decide to tell yourself it is. so you play along, rolling your eyes and waving your hand dismissively with an equally teasing ha. ha. ha laugh. 

“it’s been a slow day, so no, they actually won’t mind, for your information,” you fold your arms, wriggling your face blithely. he chuckles, lighting his cigarette, taking a drag before he continues. “d’you need a ride home then hun?” he asks, genuinely offering and you have to forcibly give yourself a moment to pause before immediately yelling an overly enthusiastic YES PLEASE. 

“are you sure? you’ve already done a lot for me today,” you act a little bashful, mostly because you are, but you also are attempting to hide the excitement bubbling inside you at the thought of being alone with him in his truck. 

he shakes his head, exhaling the smoke from his lips silently, unknowingly entrancing you. “ts’ not a problem at all, cmon,” he motions his head towards the door and you trail along like a lost puppy.  

you lock up the door behind you before you’re greeted by the sight of joel holding the passenger seat open for you. 

your face gets hotter than it was before he fixed the ac at the sight of his chivalry, pretending to curtsy with your invisible dress before you climb into his truck, mumbling a shy thank you, as he safely closes the door behind you. 

he hops in, and you read your address out for him as he turns the keys in the ignition. 

it’s a little silent for awhile, but it’s okay, you’re content stealing glances at him, hiding behind the fist that supports the weight of your tilted head, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your eyes cast over him adoringly. 

he’s so beautiful. you definitely had taste as a kid. 

he even looks strong, and not in an annoying machismo way, but in a natural, humble way. a kind way. 

you want to touch his broad shoulders, kiss your way down his biceps to his forearms and down to each and every finger of his. you want to kiss away all the callouses and take care of him the way he deserves. 

you can’t believe you’re daydreaming about him in such a way right in front of him, especially since it’s the first time you’ve seen him in about 16 years and this is how you react. 

oh well. 

the contrast of grey in his soft looking brown hair is so complementary, you hope he hasn’t turned into one of those guys that put dye over it, because frankly you think the natural look suits him quite well. 

you drift your stares down to his strong hooked nose, admiring how charming it is. you want to trace your finger tip down the slope of it, and uh oh he’s looking at you. 

you can’t be too obvious in your actions, despite the fact that you already are, so you just smile instead of whipping your head around in the opposite direction like you wish you could. “can i try?” you ask, motioning towards his cigarette, trying to play off the situation as to not expose the real reason why you were staring. 

he just chuckles under his breath, his smile lingering when he turns to look back at the road. “that’s ahh, not really a good habit you wanna get yourself into sweetpea.” he says with a small shake of his head. 

you almost give up right there, but you decide to push just a little further. “it won’t be a habit, i just wanna see the appeal is all,” you turn in the seat to fully face him, smile growing when he leans his head towards you in a jokingly exasperated tilt. he says your name warningly, and you deflate for a moment, worried he may actually be annoyed with you. 

you don’t say anything else and he notices, feeling bad at your silence. he sighs with guilt, wanting to remedy the incorrect thoughts you have of him being upset at you as he hands you the cigarette. you instantly perk, taking it into your own fingers. “careful now. you might choke, waters right there in the cup holder if it burns. don’t inhale it too long,” he instructs, watching you from the corner of his eyes to make sure you don’t hurt yourself. 

you wave away his worries, placing the stick between your lips, feeling warm all over when you get a thought that says it’s kind of like we just kissed through the cigarette. 

you inhale, hold it in for a few passing seconds before you’re proving his warnings correct, coughing loudly and not flatteringly whatsoever. 

you try to face away from him, your eyes beginning to water and your throat burning worse than when you smoked from a very suspicious wax pen. the last thing you wanted was for him to see you like this. 

he brings a hand behind your back, rubbing it soothingly as he sighs to himself, feeling a tinge of guilt for letting you smoke. 

“easy honey easy, drink some water,” he hands you the bottle of water and you down it, blinking away your tears as you hand him back his cigarette. “that was so embarrassing i’m so sorry,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. 

“s’alright honey, least now i bet you really won’t wanna make this a habit now right?” he asks, hoping you confirm your aversion to cigarettes. you instead choose to tease him a little, humming a contradictory response to his question. he squints at you and you giggle. “i dunno, might have to try again so i can really make sure.” 

he taps the ashes out the window, laughing at your reply. “you’re gonna get me in trouble with your dad there hun f’he finds out i turned his daughter into a little chain smoker,” 

you slide your hands under your thighs, watching him for a moment before you speak. “i won’t tell if you don’t,” you repeat yourself from earlier, alluding to something else, hoping he reads your mind and understands your allusions. 

he purses his lips in a slight upward furl, looking at you once he’s reached a red light. “someone’s gotten a whole lot sneakier since the last time i saw her,” you laugh, leaning into the headrest while you look at him. “a lots changed since,” you say, voice falling quietly and he holds your stare, his eyes betraying him by clearly darting down to your lips. the red light switches back to green, forcing him to look away from you. 

your chest bloomed at the way he looked at you in that moment, unsure if you’re delusional in even considering the possibility he maybe could reciprocate the attraction you’re feeling. but a little delusion never hurt anyone anyways. 

“it sure has,” he agrees, the corner of his eyes taking in your figure once more. 

but he shakes the thought from his head, almost rebuking it and instead deciding to change the subject. “can’t fault you too much though. sarah’s the same way sometimes,” he says through a chuckle that sounds nervous — did you make him nervous? 

again, you tell yourself you did. 

you sit up straight at the mention of sarah, visibly growing excited. “oh my god sarah, how is she? it’s been so long, i’m sure she doesn’t remember me,” blurred memories of playing with plastic makeup sets, and real makeup you two ‘borrowed’ from her mom, replay in your mind at the mention of her. 

he shakes his head, disagreeing at your slightly saddened thought of being forgotten by sarah. “she’s good, she’s in school just like yourself, and she does remember you hun! matter a fact, she’s home right now, if you’d like, you can come over for dinner and catch up with her,” you clap your hands together excitedly, nodding happily at his suggestion. 

“yes! that sounds amazing, i would love to!” you accept and he smiles at the thought of his two girls sitting together talking at the dinner table. 

“i’m sure she’s gonna lose her mind when she sees you,” he squeezes your knee and you go still, frozen in place when you feel the heat from his palm radiate into your skin. 

his touch is gone too soon, you want to hold his wrist and keep him there, but you pretend his fleeting touch doesn’t affect you as strongly as it actually does. 

the heat from his skin has become yours and you cradle it, pretending you’re not beaming in his passenger seat from it while he talks. 

“i’m kinda nervous, it’s been so long,” you say, pressing the backs of your fingers to your cheeks and feeling the warmth of nervousness flush to the surface of your face. 

“don’t be sweetpea, nothin to be nervous about, i promise,” he comforts your nerves with a soft voice, and you allow it to cushion you. 

—

joel was right about two things. 

you really did have nothing to worry about, you and sarah clicked right away as if no time had passed. she squealed when she saw you, racing towards you and enveloping you in a tight hug, rambling about how she’s missed you so much. it felt good to know you were never forgotten in her mind. 

he was also right about sarah being sneaky. 

or rather ‘persuasive’ and ‘just so happens to forget to mention certain things’ as she would put it. 

she managed to convince both joel (which didn’t take much convincing to begin with) and your dad to let you sleep over, which you were ecstatic about for obvious reasons but also because she saved you from having to scramble for a reason as to why you closed up the shop early. 

you’re in her bed now, sitting behind her while you help gather her hair into her baby pink bonnet, talking about anything and everything there is to talk about. while also getting ready to sleep off the high from the wax pen she has hidden under her pillow. 

“i can’t believe you’re really here with me right now,” she grins as you move back in front of her, leaning into her opening arms. 

“i know, me too, it’s been so long,” you hum, rubbing her shoulders. “i’m kidnapping you by the way, this was all just an elaborate scheme to lure you in.” she mentions casually and you laugh, falling back into her bed with her while you rest your head on her shoulder. 

“fine by me,” you say, and you mean it, but you don’t add that in.

“i’m happy you’re here,” she whispers, her nose scrunching up against yours. you smile, holding your forehead to hers. “i am too.” 

“are you busy tomorrow?” she asks, pulling the blankets over your bodies. you shake your head, curling under the covers. “nah, we’re closed tomorrow at the store and i don’t have school that day,” you say, feeling pure adoration as you watch sarah’s smile grow the more she listens to you talk. 

“why don’t we spend the day together then! my dad’s gonna be at work so we’ll have the house to ourselves,” she whispers as all the excitement from the day starts to add weight into your bones, easing you both into rest. 

you nod and smile sleepily, leaning into her arm that drapes over your side. “okay, i’ll call my dad tomorrow,” you yawn and she closes her eyes at that, content by your answer. 

— 

it’s 3am. you should not be awake. but you are, and you’re looking over at sarah, wishing you were fast asleep like she is. you carefully peel yourself out of her arms, gently covering her with the blankets before you pad out of her room and down into the kitchen for some water. 

you tiptoe down the stairs, your heart sinking nervously right into a tight spot inside your stomach when you see the fridge door agape, with a broad back sticking out of it, also in search of something to drink. 

joel rises and turns to see your stilled figure standing awkwardly, staring forward like you’ve just gotten caught stealing. 

he chuckles, scratching a few lazy fingers down his stubble when he shuts the fridge. “what’re you doin up sweetpea?” he asks, and oh god his voice is nice and gravely, a rasp from the depths of sleep that he evades every night careens around your ears and you nearly fold at the knees. 

“just uh, randomly woke up and i couldn’t go back to bed. was just gonna get some water, sorry,” you sound meek and joel shakes his head, and walks closer. you panic a little. it’s a good panic. 

“nuthin’ to be sorry about hun, i’ll getchu some water,” he holds your arm, smiling softly down at you, nodding at you for confirmation. once again his touch abandons the skin of your upper arm when he leaves to fetch a cup for your water. 

your hand graces the skin he touched as you watch him pour you water. he hands it to you, and you thank him quietly, taking a sip from the old plastic disney princess cup he picked out for you. 

“so what woke you up? you feelin’ alright?” he murmurs, coming in close again to press the back of his hand to your forehead. you weren’t overheating until he decided to do that. 

you swallow hard, shaking your head beneath his hand. “n-no no—well i mean yes, yes i’m-i’m okay, i just wake up randomly at odd hours of the night for some reason sometimes,” you say hushedly, afraid to disturb the peaceful silence the night brings. 

he nods understandingly, withdrawing his hand from your face and you want to tell him he can keep it there, but you mentally digress. 

“happens to me too,” he sighs, visibly tired with a hand lazily running down his stubble. “sorry you’re goin’ through it too then hun,” his thumb runs a small circle over your shoulder comfortingly and your body molds around the curve of his fingers. 

“it’s okay,” you mumble shyly and he smiles softly, his touch stalling on yours before it drops back to his side. the air that fills the quiet kitchen turns into something warm and calming when it floats between your tired bodies, and it feels nice. feels domestic. soft smiles mirror each other on your faces and you look away, unable to handle the weight of his stare. 

“so, do you um…do anything that helps you fall asleep?” you ask curiously, mostly just trying to make conversation to keep him tethered to you, even for just a moment longer. 

he scratches his scruffy beard and sighs, nodding like he’s somewhat ashamed to admit. you grow curiouser, deciding to test the waters and inch in just the tiniest bit closer. “and what do you do?” you question through a whisper. 

“i smoke,” he responds just as hushed and you chuckle. “sounds like you’ve got a bad habit.” you prod, lightly teasing and he takes the playful jab, chuckling along with you. 

“well, we’ve all got our vices,” he smiles at you in a way that's playfully guilty, and you roll your eyes with the same playfulness before speaking again. “was i stopping you from taking a smoke?” you ask, and he shakes his head, denying the notion. “no no, and if you were it’d probably be for the best,” he shrugs and you grin. an idea occurs in your mind. 

“can i smoke with you again?” you ask bravely and the volume in his laugh rises before he’s silencing himself so as to not wake sarah. 

“ain’t happenin’, shouldn’t have even happened the first time,” he immediately shoots down your request but you have a sneaking suspicion you’ll wear him down. 

“but you said it helps you go to sleep,” you counter with a pout and he sighs with faux exasperation. 

“hun,” he says warningly again, eyeing you in a way that pins you where you stand. “first time seein’ you in what? 15 to 16 years and i’m already becomin’ a bad influence on you.” he says amusedly, his fingers dipping into the pocket of his plaid pajama bottoms, tracing over the curve of the loose cigarettes that await him. 

“it’s not like you’re giving me hard drugs mr. miller,” you say, tilting a shoulder at him persuasively. his eyes trace over your face for a few passing seconds, taking in the way you look back at him before he decides what to do next.

“last time, understand? just to help you sleep.” he says, but it sounds like he’s more so reminding himself than he is you. 

“okay,” you smile, following him to the loveseat that faces the window, and you assume this is where he usually smokes. 

he cracks open the window, and sits down into the plump cushion, leaning against the very texan quilt that drapes over the seat. you sit down on the arm of the seat, stretching your legs above his knees, the closeness in proximity feels so personal, and you want to live the rest of your life in this quiet and intimate hour with joel. 

he hands you a cigarette, watching you put it between your lips, his available hand straying off to the side to grab the lighter that’s on the tray beside the loveseat. 

he flicks the lighter on and your faces become illuminated by the small flickering flame. he looks beautiful as he carefully lights the end of it, his eyes on the bud of it while your’s memorize each and every wrinkle that crinkles around his eyes. 

“inhale, careful now,” his words of concern blanket over you and pave a smooth passageway for the smoke to enter into your lungs, successfully preventing you from breaking out into another coughing fit. 

you inhale, and keep it before you fan it out the window. he smiles and pats your ankle that rests beside his lap. “there ya go,” he nods the crown of his head at you proudly. you bow humbly, handing him the cigarette. 

“feels nice. makes me feel warm,” you mumble tiredly, watching the way he takes a drag effortlessly. “don’t get too used to it now,” he chides, words shadowed amidst the mist of his smoke. 

“i won’t,” you reply with a knowing smile as he goes to hands it back to you. he pulls his hand that holds the cigarette back, eyeing you. he says your name in that tone and you wave him off, taking the cigarette from his fingers. “kidding,” you remedy his worries of your possible nicotine addiction in the nearby future, inhaling another drag.

you two go back and forth like this for awhile, until the cigarette becomes an unrecognizable little stub,

“feel sleepy yet?” he exhales through a fanning breath, and you nod, watching him flatten the bud into the ashtray beside his side of the armrest. 

“good,” he yawns, lazily running a hand across the side of his beard. “got a long day tomorrow — or today technically, an’ so do you little miss, try an’ get some rest.” he drawls softly, sleepily, and you nod your tired head at his words, free falling into them. 

“goodnight sweetpea,” he says with a gentle finality, leaning in to hold you by the back of your head, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. you crumble into his touch, shutting your eyes as if to fossilize yourself in the moment. 

“goodnight,” you whisper, feeling cold when he pulls away. you wish you had thought of something more to say, anything at all that would’ve kept him in your presence for just a little longer, but now you’re stuck sitting alone in the living room, watching his broad back ascend up the stairs, wishing you were trailing behind him, with your hand in his. 

you finish the rest of your water before you’re trudging back up the stairs, the weight of exhaustion lowering its heft onto your shoulders with each step upwards. 

and as you crawl back into bed with sarah, despite the attempts to push the thoughts away, all you can think about are the ways in which her father could tire you out until you fell asleep.

___ 

after that day, the miller household practically became your second home. more often than not showing up to their house rather than your own after school and work. 

at first you were worried that maybe you were beginning to overstay your welcome, that maybe they just didn’t know how to tell you to stop coming over so often. but they quickly put those insecurities to rest when sarah called you wondering why you hadn’t shown up after work, saying how joel set a plate for you at the table and it was getting cold. 

they were just as attached to you as you were to them. 

they really loved having you over, loved getting to make up for all those years you all went without each other, taking the time to relearn everything there is to know about the other. 

for instance, joel learned you have an affinity for tight tank tops that ride a little too low on your chest and rise a little too high whenever you bend down. 

his fingers have a tendency to straighten out your spaghetti straps, and he always murmurs something along the lines of, showin a lotta skin today huh hun? 

you’d grow warm under his touch, hiding behind a pretty grin and an excuse of oh, heat’s just gettin’ to me lately, or his personal favorite,  damn dryer shrunk my clothes again. 

he doesn’t mind whatever your excuse is, he’d just hand you his flannel, telling you to at least wrap it around your waist whenever guys were around, because i know how men think, he’d explain and you wouldn’t argue, you’d happily accept his flannel and listen to his heeding. 

you wonder if he was having the same thoughts he was trying to prevent other men from having about you. 

you like to tell yourself he was. 

but there is one thing you don’t have to convince yourself of. joel really, truly, and utterly cares for you. 

joel is nothing if not protective, he just wants to look out for you, make sure you’re safe, that you’re okay, and so when you called him at work, voice trembling and meekly asking if he can pick you up, naturally, he abandoned his meeting at work to race over to you. 

creating blueprints for a new apartment building suddenly became unimportant the second he heard your voice crack over the phone.  

he could hear the way your breath paused for a moment, only to come out shakily through tears when he asked if you were alright. your audible sadness casted immediate worry and concern over him, instilling itself in his chest. 

he sees you now, rushing to walk out of the store, locking it on your way out, and he hops out of his truck, wanting to be the first thing you’re greeted by as soon as you raise your head. 

relief rinses through you the moment you see joel standing in front of his truck, your eyes betraying the attempt at strength you were fighting so hard to have the second he pulls you into his arms. 

his hands feel warm and heavy behind your back, rubbing all the quiet sobs out from you with each gentle circular movement. 

“oh babygirl,” he murmurs under his breath, feeling his heart break with each little gasp you make through your tears. “what happened?” he asks, unintentionally causing the tears to fall harder, making you fist at his button up. 

“today has been so bad,” you finally say, your head resting on his strong chest, shaking fingers tracing over the seams of his button up in an attempt at self soothing. 

“wanna get inside an’ talk about it?” he asks just above a whisper, keeping his voice soft for you. you nod, twisting the knife in his chest when you sniffle. 

he helps you into his truck, shutting the door behind you, meeting back with you soon once he’s in the driver’s seat. 

“now what happened honey?” he asks, and you take in a deep breath through the tears, waving your hands at your eyes to try and stop the stinging sensation at your waterline. 

“today has just been one bad thing after the other,” you wipe away the stray tears with annoyed fists, wishing they would cease their incessant presence. “first, i got into a fight with my dad, he called me selfish and inconsiderate for not canceling class to come down to the shop earlier and that there’s no point in attending class because i’m just gonna get overwhelmed and quit anyway,” you barely manage to say tearfully, further etching a frown into joel’s features, his chest aching at the way you’re visibly hurting. 

he says your name tenderly, matching the way his hand reaches out for you to hold. you squeeze his hand, holding onto it when it rises upwards to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping a stray tear across your cheekbone. 

you lean into his palm, shutting your eyes at his touch. “and i’m scared he’s right, today in class i was so stressed all i wanted to do was walk out,” you whimper ashamedly, and joel shushes you, bringing his free hand to fully hold your face, turning your gaze back up to meet his. his hold on you is delicate, like you’re a dandelion amidst a strong breeze, and all he wants to do is keep you with him, safe and sound. 

your cheeks are cradled by his hands, his calluses turning into a thing of comfort against your cheeks, along with his thumbs that swipe away the tears that refuse to concede from your lash line. 

he holds you like this for a while, wordlessly guiding your breathing with his, evening out your sporadic hiccups induced by your crying, settling your nerves down to a more manageable level. 

your eyes flutter shut at the safety he drapes over you, your smaller hands holding onto his wrists, mindlessly running your thumb along his knuckles. “wish you were with me at work today,” you mumble, imagining the way he would’ve protected you from the creepy customers you had to deal with. 

“what else happened?” he lightly coaxes it out of you, wanting you to get everything out so you don’t have to carry the burden of the day’s stress on your shoulders. 

“these guys came in, and they were just so weird,” your hands tighten around his wrists, recounting the uncomfortable interaction you were subjected to. 

“kept…kept making weird jokes about everything…i said if they needed anything to let me know and i heard one of them tell their friend i better be careful saying things like that, and they like—ugh,” you take a moment to catch your breath, refocusing on the way joel’s gently running his fingers across your temples, something he’d do for you in the middle of the night whenever you’d get a headache. 

“they kept making jokes about me taking off my clothes because it’s summer and it’s hot or whatever i dunno it was stupid but they kept ‘suggesting’ i should lose the tank top because walking around in a bra is the same as wearing s bikini at the beach,” you grimace at the fresh memory, and joel wants to take it away from you, wants to wash you clean of all the pain you felt today. 

when you look up at joel his jaw is clenched, lower jaw jutting out in anger, his hands falling from your face down to your hands, holding them in his, while he shakes his head. “fuckin’ disgusting,” he mutters to himself. “probably good i wan’t there, woulda fuckin’ killed them,” he utters under his breath, and more so to himself, his hands migrating down to your hands, squeezing them hard. his eyes that hold an image of what he’d do to the men who harassed you dissipate as soon as they shift back up to you. “i’m sorry hun,” he sighs, cupping your cheek, cradling you into his palm, speaking gentler this time, “an’ as for your dad well…he’s an asshole. but i know you already know that,” he pauses to smile at your little giggle. 

“he couldn’t be more wrong about you. you are so smart hun, an’ you can and will accomplish everything you set your mind to.” the soft gravel of his voice tides around you like an embrace, enveloping you in it as an attempt to wash you clean of your distress. 

your eyes well and your heart soars up high inside your chest at his kindness. 

“thank you mr. miller, you are so nice to me, it—it means so much coming from you, and i can’t even begin to explain how grateful i am that you even came here at all,” he left work for you. you groan with guilt at the remembrance. “and—god i’m so sorry that i just like, randomly called you at work i’m so sorry you were probably super busy, i just didn’t know who else to go to,” you ramble with guilt, but joel’s already shaking his head as you rattle off with apologies, his hands coming back up to your cheeks, stilling the words on your tongue. 

“hey hey hey,” he shushes you softly. “no apologies, okay?” his thumb runs under your lash line, clearing away your tears. “i’m glad you called me, rather you call me than have to hear what happened from someone else.” he pacifies your guilt for calling him, and he does it successfully, watching the upset furrow between your brows disappear. 

your lip trembles and you suck it in between your teeth, closing your eyes and leaning forward into his chest. he takes you in with no hesitation, his arms forever acting as a sanctity for you to hide in whenever you need. 

he hesitantly pulls away from you for a moment, mumbling a soft, give me a sec sweetie. he shifts around to the pull at the bottom of the driver seat, extending it backwards and giving him more space between him and the steering wheel. 

“cmere,” he says above a whisper, opening his arms for you once more. you’re being guided into his lap, gently wrangled in until you’re wrapped up in the thick protection of his strong biceps. he rubs your back, head resting safely on top of your’s, keeping you down to earth, keeping you in his arms. 

he takes in all your tears, takes in every racking sob from your chest into his, his lips every so often pressing their silent reminders of his presence into your temple. he rocks you back and forth, his soft shushes folding over the sound of your fading cries, lulling you into a calmness you didn’t know you could feel. 

“you’re okay, you’re okay,” he promises, and you believe him. you finally raise your head from his chest, the scent of him still lingering around you, his presence feels pliable, the way he’s looking at you, eyes downturned and scanning all over your face lovingly feels like a sign you know isn’t real. he says nothing, just clears away your stray tears, and that’s when you act. 

you lean in, holding his wrist and intertwining your fingers as your lips do the same. you sigh into his mouth, ascending in his arms when you feel him kiss you back just as rushedly, almost like if he’s too slow you’ll vanish from him. 

but it’s him who vanishes first. he pulls apart from you with a gasp, shifting you further away from him in his lap, your heart immediately cracking straight down the middle. “what’re you…what are you doing?” his questioning comes out breathless, he feels like he’s asking himself rather than he is you, and he prays you say the right thing, he prays that you call him disgusting and that you climb right out of his lap, removing the temptation and opportune to lean back in. 

but you don’t. “i’m sorry,” you whimper, embarrassment flushing through your whole body, he shuts his eyes, exhaling slowly through his nose. “i’m too old for you, you know that right?,” his knuckles drag across your cheekbone, and you nod solemnly, swallowing hard. “i’m not a kid though, joel,” you say shakenly, nerves rattling your bones when you say his name for the first time, unhidden by the lieu of mr. miller. 

“compared to me, you are,” he sighs, his hands gripping his own thighs, weighing them down to prevent them from gravitating to your’s. “i’m too old for you,” he repeats to himself, closing his eyes and leaning into the headrest, the sight and feeling of you looking up at him in his lap is too much for him to combat. “i’d be takin advantage of you,” he mutters, shaking his head, guilt starting to settle into the base of his chest. 

you’re quiet for awhile, and he takes it as his answer. that he’s right, this is wrong. 

but you contradict his thoughts. reaching up to pull his gaze back onto you. “you’re not taking advantage of me, i know that i want this.” you promise hushedly, and he wants to believe you. your eyes connect once more, a quiet tug of air being shared between the two of you, and you’re willing to let him have it, to let him have all the air you can offer and more. he leans in and you stay still, watching when he inches backward when he gets too close, like you’re a flame whose flicker burns too bright the closer he gets. and when you inch in, you can’t get yourself to break the seal and press yourself into him, a weight of nerves keeping you stagnant before him. 

his stare rises and falls down from your eyes to your lips, and you feel it in your bones that your body needs to have him more than it needs anything else. your gaze rests on him while your body acts for you, your hand finding his and holding it, squeezing it. “please,” you whisper, your words leaving you before you can process them. he swallows down everything holding him back, lurching forward to take your lips into his. his hand slides from yours, and up your arm, squeezing it as a test to see if you’re real. his hand moves from your cheek to the back of your head, kissing you hard and keeping you still, greedily wanting to keep you all for himself, wanting to memorize the taste of cherry coke on your tongue and raspberry lip balm on your lips.

it smears across his own lips, your taste immersing with his own, his mustache and beard tickling your skin just like you imagined it would, and you moan in his mouth at the feeling, flicking your tongue desperately over his, mindlessly bucking your hips against his. he groans deeply into you, grasping your hips and rocking himself into you, not a single thought in his head, just a carnal need to feel your cunt satiate the ache traveling down his cock. 

you pull apart for a breath, lips still pushed together, foreheads melded in close, hips crashing into each other with need. “feels so good,” you whimper into his mouth, the pleasure from the friction making you blatantly honest. 

he nods in agreement, never having heard truer words. his fingers indent the shape of themselves into your flesh, his hips acting on their own, desperate to push up into you while his mouth catches yours once more. 

he groans, his cock twitching when he feels you slip your tongue into his mouth, a little moan of your own floating out when you taste a hint of root beer from his kiss. 

your movements grow rushed, hands finding the heft of his flannel and fisting it to steady the heavy rocking of your hips crashing and tiding over his cock. 

desperation flows in your veins where your blood once was, replacing all sense of anything except for the physical need to rut your cunt against his bulge. he can’t keep up, all he can do is let his head fall in your shoulder, his big hands coming around to find purchase on your welcoming hips. his thighs clench underneath yours, tensing when he feels you dampen him through his pants. 

“baby,” he finally lets out shakily, thumbs running circles over your hips. “can’t—shit,” a beat passes with an involuntary grunt falling from his lips. “cant, can’t do this here,” he breathes, eyes hanging low upon you, his hips betraying his words with each thrust that meets your pelvis. 

you slow your movements, catching your breath quietly, nodding in a silent agreement. “i don’t wanna stop,” you admit truthfully, no longer feeling bashful about the fact.  

his cock aches at your honesty and he exhales through his nose, his hands tightening around you. “don’t have to,” he swallows, eyes drifting down to your hardened nipples. “just not here.” 

his answer satiates you, which almost leaves him regretful when you climb off his lap and leave him cold and void of your warm cunt pressed up against him. 

he starts the truck and all you can do is stare at the concentrated look on his face and his hands gripping the steering wheel. 

you wonder if he’ll hold you by your throat the same way. your thighs squeeze together tightly, causing the hem of your jean shorts to rub against your clit just enough to soothe the ache inadvertently caused by joel. 

he notices, eyeing you up and down, lips parted just a breadth at the sight. his hand itches to alleviate some of the pressure you’re carrying deep inside you, but instead he alleviates some of his own first. his right hand falls from the steering wheel for a moment, just to squeeze his cock when he watches the way you squirm and stare up at him from his passenger seat. 

he turns away, knowing he’ll crash if he keeps staring at you, bringing his wandering hand back to the wheel. 

“can i touch you?” you ask, seemingly innocent and his eyes shut for a passing second, a curt  shake of his head joining the action. “not a good idea—“ he really wants you to though “gonna make me crash,” he exhales, though his hips say otherwise, inching towards your side with need. 

your hand trails from his thigh down to his crotch, palming over him gently, and he grips the steering wheel, jaw vibrating with low groans. 

a 10 minute drive has never felt so far until now. 

your fingers curl over his bulge, straining against the seatbelt trying to lean in as close as it’ll let you until you decide to rid yourself of it all together. 

“seatbelt,” he says warningly, and with concern, but you wash it away the second your lips meet the side of his neck, with your hand pawing over him to ensure his submission. and joel just about crumbles far too easily at the touches. 

you’re impatient, he definitely sees that now, and you’re making it way harder than it needs to be for him to maintain his self control. 

“i thought about this a lot,” you hum in his ear, leaving kisses in the wake of your warm words. his throat gets tight just like his lower belly, excitement strumming through him when he halts at a red light. 

he turns towards you now, his hand dipping between your thighs, a little upward curl of his lips teasing the side of your cheek, his scruff leaving kisses of their own on your skin. 

you stifle a whimper, holding onto his wrist when you grind down on his fingers. “thought about touching me like how i’m touchin’ you?” he murmurs, pressing chaste kisses to your jaw. you nod, your chest pounding at the wave of realization of what’s happening. it excites you. 

“thought about it too,” he pulls away from you when the light turns green, and you stay frozen, your body suddenly unsure of how to function with a lack of his touch and proximity. 

“didn’t wanna admit it to myself, but i thought about doin…a lot more than that whenever you’d come around,” he pays you a once over, his eyes lingering over the plushness of your thighs that fill his passenger seat. 

“your skirts and shorts kept gettin’ so damn short, i felt guilty for wondering if it was on purpose,” a smugness takes over his face when he glances at you. “an’ now i know it was.” 

you flutter at his confessions, a sense of pride swelling in you at the confirmation that your little tactics seemed to have paid off. “i just wanted your attention,” you say softly, words falling like pillows and he catches them with open arms. 

his glance shifts from his crotch, up to your eyes knowingly, and he smiles faintly. “i can tell you that you had it even before you started wearin all that,” he rests his hand on your thigh, guiding the wheel with his left hand now. “but i can’t say i minded the change in outfits.” he brings his fingers over your clit, putting pressure over it and you whine quietly, bucking your hips into his touch. 

“if you ever want me to stop you need to tell me okay?” he tells you, and he’s serious, his fingers pull away for emphasis and you nod profusely, holding onto his wrist desperately. “i promise, joel i don’t wanna stop,” you plead with him, and as a simple man that he is, he doesn’t seem to need much more convincing. the pads of his fingers run circles over your clothed clit, and you grind down into it, hungry for more. 

“i want you,” you pant and he chuckles, drumming his thumb against the steering wheel. 

“you’ve got me.” 

“but i want more.” 

— 

it’s quiet when you arrive back at his house, the driveway is thankfully void of sarah’s little yellow volkswagen and relief blankets across your shoulders knowing she isn’t home. 

he ushers you inside, his broad, strong chest pressed up against your back with his hands guiding you by your hips. 

he closes the door with his back, leaning against it, watching you turn around to face him. it’s quiet for a few ticking seconds, and he watches as you lean in closer towards him. he doesn’t stop you but he doesn’t lean in to meet you halfway either. he says your name like he’s unsure if he’s even allowed to utter it, purposefully avoiding eye contact. you hum a soft little “yes?” and he sighs, his eyes falling shut for a moment. 

“this ain’t right,” he reminds himself, and his hands begin to loosen on your hips. you clamp a hand over one of his, the other coming up to lure him back into you, a gentle palm of yours cupping his scruffy jaw, thumb running across the crows feet that gather at the corner of his eye. “says who?” you counter gingerly and he chuckles breathlessly, shaking his head in your hold, feeling all restraint trickle straight off him the second his eyes catch yours. 

you move your hand away from his when his grip grows tight again, letting your now free hand hold both sides of his face when you go up on your tippy toes to meet him for a kiss. 

he catches you off guard and pulls you deeper into him, your crotches pressed flush together when he slips his tongue into your mouth, hooking and reeling you in. 

you moan into his mouth and it eggs him on, sending his hand into a downward motion towards your ass. he feels smug when you whimper in his mouth, pushing harder against his cock when he squeezes your ass. 

he rubs over your ass posessively, squeezing it hard, almost in disbelief that he gets to have you like this. kiss “need you to tell me if and when you wanna stop,” kiss. you don’t reply, you just fall into him whenever he presses his lips back to yours. your lack of a response leaves him discontent and he pulls apart an inch, eyeing you down expectantly. you huff impatiently, hooking your arms around his neck. “promise. i will.” which is good enough for him as he melds into you once more. 

his hands roam all over you, caressing, holding, squeezing all the places that only his eyes have traveled. 

it feels good, it feels all encompassing, to feel the trails of fire his hands leave all across your skin, and you can’t get enough. “can we,” a kiss to your throat, “go to your room?” you ask, somewhat breathless and he pauses for a second, eyes tracing the outline of your bitten lips before he nods. he holds your hand, leading you into his bedroom. 

the second you’re inside you’re guiding him into his own bed after having shut the door. he gazes at you amusedly, handing you the reins for a moment, keeping his hands on the edge of them while you take charge. he thinks it’s cute. 

you sit him at the edge of his bed, straddling him while you push at his chest until his back meets the mattress. you’re leaning back down, holding his face in your hands, your lips hastily meeting his once more. he welcomes you, his hands holding you down on top of him by your hips. 

you grind down on him, panting in his mouth at how good it feels to have him pressed right against your cunt. but it’s not enough. you need more. 

your hands travel down his strong chest, fixing towards unbuttoning his flannel. he lets you, busying himself with unbuttoning your little denim shorts, but he wants to unwrap you slowly. he wants to make a show of it. 

he flips you on your back and you gasp, feeling hot under his stare and stature above you. his knees rest on either side of you, indenting the bed while he maintains eye contact. his fingers take their time unzipping your shorts, and you whine quietly, bucking your hips towards him. 

he pushes you back down and shushes you. “patience.” he murmurs, rubbing his thumbs over your upper thighs. he doesn’t rush taking your shorts off, wanting to savor the feeling of getting to do this for as long as he can. the vision of you in his bed, wet, and impatient, laying before him in your little pink panties is about to make him burst. 

he’s still fully clothed above you and it casts a warm feeling throughout your bare body. you bring your knees close to your tummy, shutting your legs at your sudden shyness. he moves in closer, shaking his head with his palms on your knees. 

he pushes them back down, slipping a hand between your thighs. you gasp, arching your back into him and exhaling with relief when his fingers trace over your clothed clit. “i wanna see you honey,” he careens you gently, coaxing your shyness away. your legs part for him, and he takes full advantage, running the pads of his fingers up and down slowly, feeling the slickness start to bleed through your panties. 

he pushes them to the side, swirling over your clit and feeling proud when you moan into his shoulder. he dips into your little soaked hole, exhaling into your neck at how wet you are. “barely e’n touched you and you’ve already made a mess,” he tsks you lovingly, hints of teasing in his words, and it only excites you more. your stomach and chest get tight at his touches and the way he talks to you, it’s so unreal, and you could honestly cry in this moment from how bad you want to fuck him. 

“i always get like this for you—oh,” you cry out into his shoulder when he pushes his thick middle finger inside you, his digit so long that it easily hits the little spongy spot inside you that you usually struggle to reach. 

“aw sweetpea,” he coos, kissing your forehead while his finger curls inside you. “got you walkin’ around all hot and bothered with no release, i’m sorry,” he kisses your temple, his gentleness contradicting the way he’s fucking you with his finger, grunting under his breath at how tight the fit is when he works in his ring finger. 

you choke on a gasp at the stretch, starting to wonder if his cock will fit if his fingers are already making you feel like this. 

“you gonna make it up to me?” you whimper, still maintaining an air of playfulness in your response. he chuckles, pulling apart ever so slightly to look at you, to watch the way you struggle to stare up at him with his fingers in your cunt. 

“i’ll make it up to you, and then some,” he says, his voice falling low on a raspy curve. you believe him, his response feeling like a promise he intends to keep. 

he’s on you again and you invite it wholly, legs coming around on either side of him go trap him into you. his fingers fuck into that sweet little spot inside you, every single flick of his wrist has your lower back bucking up into his touch. 

his palm hits your clit with every movement, it’s almost cruel, giving you just an inch when you need a mile. you’re running your hands all over him, kissing him messily even when there’s a mix of your saliva dribbling on your chin and air is depleting from your lungs. none of it matters, all that does is consuming as much of joel as humanly possible. 

your fingers struggle to unbutton his flannel once more, shaking and trembling too much to do it as ladylike as you wish you could but he doesn’t mind, it makes his cock twitch knowing he’s the reason why you can’t stay still. 

“feels so good joel,” you whimper, fucking yourself onto his fingers when you finally undo all the pesky buttons on his flannel. he kisses your cheek, his beard tickling your skin while you slide your hands underneath his wife beater. 

“good honey, s’all i wanna do,” he curls his finger right there, drinking in your cries with his lips clamped over yours. your nails drag down his chest and he winces above you, your lips still brushing together. “sh-shit m’so so sorry joel,” you remedy the scratches with gentle caresses but he shakes his head, kissing your chin. “no no s’alright baby—kinda liked it,” he chuckles, thumbing over your clit, precum starting to leak through his boxers at the way you keen into him at the little action. you giggle at his response, raking your nails softly down his chest, fingers suddenly halting only to begin trembling when he picks up the pace inside you. 

“want more joel, i—fuck,” you’re panting, arching up into him, the saturation of the room is getting dimmer and glittery, it’s hard to keep your eyes open and the pounding in your chest and cunt is nearly blinding you. “need more of you, please? please god i’ll do anything,” your desperation is loud and clear and you couldn’t care less. he can feel it, can feel you gripping his fingers, squeezing him so good and he certainly hears how ready you are for him; he revels in the slick clicking sound eliciting from between your legs because of, again, him. 

he swipes the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes and he shushes you, kissing you wherever your tears appeared, rubbing that little spot inside of you soothingly. 

you hum in pleasure, hands traveling up to his shoulders. “don’t need to cry honey, i’ll give i’to you,” his promises fan out over your lips, slipping his fingers out of you. 

the loss of his fingers inside you feels cruel, you feel clingy, all you want is joel near you, around you, on you, and in you. 

the sound of his hands undoing his belt hangs in the air, quiet and low breaths of desperation flicker from out your lips while you watch him pull himself out of his jeans. his cock, fat and heavy, and twitching, falls with heft on your lower tummy, resting with impatience on your skin. 

you whimper, hand nervously wrapping around it, your fingers barely able to cover the thick circumference of it. “you’re huge,” you choke, unintentionally adding fuel into his ego and he chuckles, shaking his head when he kisses you. 

“you’re flatterin’ me,” he murmurs against your lips, wrapping a hand around himself, guiding his tip to circle around your clit. you gasp, curling upwards into him, your forehead resting on his broad shoulder. you kiss his bare skin, the comfort of his skin to yours soothes you while he slides his cock up and down your folds. 

“oh—ooh,” you suck in a big breath, hands flying to his forearms to hold onto when he starts to push in, his tip inching into you feels just as big as it looks. “shit,” you whimper at the burn that follows along with the stretch that he pushes into you and he pauses with concern. he hovers above you like a gracious adonis and it almost makes you forget the twinge of pain between your thighs. 

“you need me to stop?” he asks, his words of gentleness cradling you and you shake your head, running your palms down his chest. “no, please keep going, i can take it,” you nod as further emphasis, pushing your hips up, aching to feel more of him. 

he brings his lips to your’s again, sighing when he feels your little moan escape into his mouth. his cock rocks into you at a steady pace, unintentionally pushing you further up into his bed, and he holds onto you tighter, not wanting you to move an inch away from him. 

“haven’t felt like—shit,” he shudders something like a whimper against your lips, and you have to hold back a moan at the sound. “ha-haven’t felt like this in so long honey,” he swallows hard, caressing the side of your face. “haven’t thought about someone like this in years’,” he groans, pushing his cock in deeper. 

your clit pulses at the way he speaks to you, the way he fucks you. “had to fuckin’ jerk off like i was a teenager again after you’d leave—y’have no idea what the hell you’ve been doin’ to me honey,” he messily kisses you between each word, his thrusts growing heavy and rough inside you, the fat head of his cock prodding perfectly into the spongy little spot inside of you. 

“should’ve told me sooner joel,” you whine, bucking your hips to feel more of his cock. “touched myself every night thinking of you,” you whimper out, eyes falling shut when you feel his lower half brush against your clit. he pushed in especially deep at your confession, and you gasp, holding onto him tighter. 

“joel—fuck, sl-slow down, it’s so much,” you cry, barely able to hold onto him while he starts to pound into you, like he’s lost the reins and his body is in control now, an energy and stamina he hasn’t had since he was in his 20’s was back in full force and it all went into fucking you stupid. 

“m’sorry honey—you just, ohfuck, feel so good an the things you’re sayin’ i just—fuck i can’t help it,” he breathes out, pressing a chaste kiss to your bitten lips. “just take it for me baby,” he groans, his hands squeezing your tits before traveling down to your hips. 

his head hangs low while he splits you open on his cock, struggling to keep his eyes from shutting, but he forces them open to watch the way his cock stretches you wide. “you’re so big,” you whine, teeth coming down to sink into the heft of his shoulder. he groans in your neck, sending you a particularly hard thrust. 

the scent of cigarettes wafts around you the more he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips nip at your skin and you whimper into his shoulder at the thought of you going home smelling like him. 

his calloused hands mold to the shape of your body no matter where they travel, forming perfectly around you to hold onto you as tight as he can. 

silence falls between you two, the only communication occurring is the shared grunts and groans that slip into each other’s open mouths. his forehead rests on yours, occasionally moving to your collarbone or ducking down to graze his teeth across your breasts, tongue darting out to wetten your nipples. 

the sound of your soaked cunt getting fucked is near obnoxious—it’s loud, and you pray that the windows in his bedroom are shut, because there’s no doubt that if they aren’t, his neighbors will hear everything. 

your legs shakily hang off his lower back, pushing him in deeper and deeper. 

his thrusts start to slow in pace, and each drag of his cock inside you feels hypnotic, feels amazing, and he groans the same sentiments in your ear, kissing the skin behind it. “m’sorry,” his hips pause to a halt and you panic for a second, wondering if you somehow did something wrong. “everything okay?” you ask softly, clearing the hair away from his eyes. he nods, avoiding eye contact embarrassedly. “my back—startin to cramp up on me,” he mutters, pulling out of you and you hold back a sound of disappointment from the lack of weight on top of you. 

he sits up, back facing away from you, head in his hands. “i’m sorry honey,” he apologizes, still not looking at you. you frown, shuffling on your knees towards him. you hold him from behind, kissing the side of his neck. 

“don’t be.” you murmur, moving around in front of him now. you push at his chest gently, clambering on top of him. his eyes widen, a grin slowly spreading across his lips while his hands rest on your thighs. “what’re you doin?” he asks under a raspy breath, his cock twitching underneath you with excitement. 

you hold his shaft, realigning him with your eager hole, leaning down to press a kiss before you speak. “i’m taking over.” is all you say as you sink down on his cock, wincing at the intrusion. 

his eyes roll back and his head falls into the pillow, his hands starting to grip your hips. “baby,” he moans to himself, his cheeks growing hot. you have to inch him in at a cautious pace but he doesn’t mind, your tight warmth is something he welcomed wholeheartedly. 

you start to grind your hips experimentally, hoping it feels good for him. you honestly have no idea what you’re doing. you’ve only had sex once but you don’t know if it even really counts. 

if a guy putting it in then pulling out because he came too fast counted then, sure you’ve had sex. 

however all of this; it’s different with joel, that was a boy, and now you’ve got a man’s cock buried in your pussy. and you want to make him feel like one, you don’t want him to feel ashamed about his age or anything like that. you’ll make him forget about everything. 

you shudder a breathy moan at the new position, resting your hands on his broad chest, admiring the beautiful man that rests under you. “tell me what makes you feel good joel,” you murmur, head falling towards him, making direct eye contact with him. he swallows hard, his cock aching at how fucking hot you are. 

“shit baby, just use me how you want, use my cock honey.” he groans, licking his fingers and bringing it to your clit. you whine, almost toppling over on top of him at the contact, but you hold yourself up, determined to make both yourself and joel feel good. 

you grab his hands, unclamping them from the grip that rested around your hips and instead dragging them up your sides and onto your breasts, silently telling him to squeeze as much as he pleases. 

and that he does. 

he squeezes them, bucking his hips upwards into yours as he watches the way your flesh fills the gaps between his fingers. you rise and fall onto his cock, bouncing on it with a rhythm that hits every sensitive spot inside of you. 

you look down to where you meet, sucking in your bottom lip at the sight of him disappearing inside of you each time you lower yourself onto him. you rock back and forth, whimpering at how deep he can reach in you. you watch the way he swirls his fingers over your clit, touching you better than you could ever do on your own time. 

“c’mere honey,” he groans for you, and you obey, bending down to rest on his chest. he stops you before you can fully lay on top of him, holding you just under your ribs. he pulls you into his mouth, sucking over the soft flesh of your chest, tongue licking messily and hungrily all over your breasts. you gasp, arching your back into his mouth. “j-joel,” you moan, struggling to maintain the rhythm you built. 

his teeth tease your nipples and you shiver, your nails digging into his shoulders at the sensation. you bounce on his cock, mind going numb and fuzzy while your senses take over, each thrust feeling like electric in your veins. 

after he’s done sucking bruises into your soft flesh, your hands reconnect once more, and you pin them down beside his head, hovering above him while you ride his cock. 

i love you, almost slips from your lips while you stare at each other, chests rising and falling heavily, mouths parted, tongues darting out to wet your lips with hunger. the words hang in the air without sound, you’re sure of it. 

you grind down onto him as far as you can take him, feeling him nudge your cervix, and you whimper at just how deep he can go inside of you. he takes your moment of weakness as an opportunity to flip you right back to where you all started; underneath him. 

you gape at him, unable to process his quick movements. you’re laying at the foot of the bed now, and he’s grabbing your calves, tugging you closer towards him. he pushes back in and wastes no time in pounding you like nothing happened. he grabs your leg, pushing it up further towards your chest, angling himself in even deeper, pure desire fueling him. “shit baby,” 

he mutters, his hair falling in his eyes as he kisses your jaw. 

he rubs your clit with his thick fingers and you cry out, starting to tremble uncontrollably beneath him. “think m’gonna cum joel, m’so so so close,” you whine, your eyes falling heavy with your impending orgasm. 

“let me have it honey, cmon,” he kisses his encouragement into your cheek, fucking you with determination to make you cum, hard. his fingers never relent on your clit, and you can’t stop the panting that leaves your lips, all you can do is writhe beneath him while he fucks you through your dizzying climax. you moan his name in breathy chants, spasming as your body tries it’s best to ride out the stimulation that joel bombards you with. 

his hips grow messy and sporadic, he’s catching your lips in a hot kiss, tongues clashing and saliva falling to the corners of your mouth. barely taking any time to break apart for air. “m’almost there—where can i…” he trails off breathlessly, unsure of how to ask in a way that a gentleman would ask but you don’t care, you don’t need him to sound like one, not when he’s fucking you as if he’s never heard the word before. 

“inside, y-you can do it inside, please,” you beg with need, curling your legs around his hips and pushing down on his lower back. he shudders, and has a millisecond to want to ask you if you’re sure, but he can’t stop pushing himself inside you, it feels too good, and he’s glad you’re trapping him between your legs, because he never wants to stop. 

“sh-shit, i’m cummin’ honey,” he shakily moans in your mouth, struggling to keep his kiss coherent but the way your spent cunt tightens around him makes him lose all sense. you whimper against his lips, feeling hyper sensitive to each and every touch, but the feeling of him cumming inside you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt. 

he slowly pulls out of you, peppering your face with kisses when you make a sound of discomfort. you two lie in a comfortable silence, trying to catch your breaths. you turn to look at each other, and he smiles at you, leaning over to cup your face in his palm. “you okay?” he murmurs softly, running his thumb across your cheekbone. you nod into his touch, holding the back of his hand with yours. “yeah,” you grin. “you?” 

he chuckles heartily, and nods as well. “yeah. i’m alright,” he sends a playful wink and you can’t believe that it still manages to make your tummy flutter with butterflies. you suppose he’ll always have that effect on you. 

you stare at him for a little longer, testing the waters to see if he’ll stop you as you lift up his arm and scoot closer to him. and when he doesn’t, you smile to yourself while he only pulls you in closer, tightening his arms around you. you can feel his heartbeat against your back, and you’ve never felt more soothed before. 

you trace the veins on his strong arm that cradles you into him, your head resting on his other bicep. you don’t want to disrupt the peacefulness that’s settled upon you both, but you have questions that just might do that. 

“joel?” you ask and he hums a response. “would you ever want to do this again? or not even this but just…like…hangout?” you unknowingly grip onto his arm with nervousness, and hope that he says yes. 

he takes in a breath and you shut your eyes at the impending rejection. “honey,” he starts, and your eyes glisten with tears already. “i don’t know if this is something we should’ve done to begin with—not that i regret it—lord,” he shakes his head, chuckling dryly to himself. “lord knows i don’t regret it. but i don’t know if this is something we could sustain. i want to though, sweetpea trust me that i do,” he tilts your chin towards him, feeling his heart break when he sees your watery eyes looking back at him. 

“oh honey,” he sighs sadly, shifting you around so you can look up at him properly. his arms encase you, his warm hand running up and down your back while he pressed gentle kisses to your forehead. “why?” is all you manage to ask and he shuts his eyes, resting his chin on top of your head. “your dad’ll shoot me down and hang my body in front’of the whole neighborhood if he knew. and sarah? i don’t think she’d take kindly to me datin’ her best friend.” you hate that he makes perfect sense and you hate that you sound childish, that you didn’t even take either of those things into consideration. 

“we don’t have to tell them—at least not now? and we don’t have to be anything serious, i just…i like being around you.” you softly murmur, feeling pathetic as tears line your lashes once again. he thumbs across them, ridding your eyes of their wetness. “i like being around you too,” he returns your sentiments, leaning down to peck you. it feels gentle, domestic, and you can’t imagine going without more of them. 

“i’ll still pick you up after you have class, i still want you to come over for dinner like you usually do, nothin’ has to change and,” he closes his eyes for a beat. “—despite everything i said, i…i don’ know if i could handle not havin’ you around honey, feels like somethin’s missin’ when you’re not around.” he admits, and to himself as well, for the first time. 

you bloom with happiness at his words, surging forward to kiss him. he holds you by the back of your neck, tracing circles into your jaw. you hold his face in your hands, pressing kisses along his cheeks, feeling warm all over and when he laughs. it’s filled with a comforting airiness. 

he holds your wrist, turning to kiss your palm. he plucks your index finger, bringing it to his lips to kiss gently. “got me wrapped around this little thing,” he says just above a whisper, and your heart aches, overflowing with adoration. 

the door suddenly opens downstairs and you both share a look of horror. 

“dad? i’m home!”

[deedala]

🎇 Happy New Year Friends!! 🎇

From the Diary of Virginia Woolf: January 2, 1931: Here are my resolutions for the next 3 months; the next lap of the year. To have none. Not to be tied. To be free & kindly with myself, not goading it to parties: to sit rather privately reading in the studio. Sometimes to read, sometimes not to read. To go out yes—but stay at home in spite of being asked. As for clothes, to buy good ones.

For today's return to WTW, i thought it might be fun to celebrate the ways in which we survive and manage to find peace and happiness in our one precious life here on Earth. And so...

-----------------------------------

✨W e e k l y 🌟 T a g 🌟 W e d n e s d a y✨

Name: Deanna 🌱

Location: oHIo🌽

Astrological Sign: Scorpio 🦂

What's a TV show or movie you plan to re-watch this year? obvi i'm in a constant state of re-watching shameless but otherwise right now im thinking maybe some bob's burgers, some futurama, austenland...

Whats a book or fic you will probably re-read this year? ooohh you know...the usual suspects tbh: cooperative gameplay, itqd, faffy, love is a ballfield, none the wiser, the menagerie... AND...*IF* DA4 is gonna actually come out soon I'll probably re-read my fav stories from Tevinter Nights!!!

What is a song you will likely continue to play on repeat? uuhh right now its still chappell roan's whole album and hozier's unreal unearth. im sorry for cheating on my own question and basically naming like 30 songs lol

What's a tasty treat you look forward to eating more of this year? i dont think i managed to eat enough chocolate chip cookies last year, i should eat more. also i haven't had an andes mint in forever??? need some of those STAT. oh my god i totally missed out on girl scout cookies last year too!!!

What's a time sink that you will continue to sink time into this year? scrolling tumblr ofc!!!

Did you pick up any habits in 2023 that you plan to continue? not really?? maybe kind of reblogging my own posts more and trying not to feel bad about it??

What's your toxic trait? leaving petty little thoughts in my friends DMs while they're sleeping 😛

What is a coping mechanism you will continue to indulge in this year? ✨disassociation✨

Tell me something you like about how you look! my skin has been pretty nice lately, good job skin. (do you guys remember that old vine of the broken toy that would just say "sssskkiiiiinnnn" when squeezed?? i remember lolol)

Give me at least three adjectives describing things you like about yourself. loyal, generous, thoughtful

----------------------------------- Now for tagging nuggets: additionally I want to thank @mybrainismelted and @jrooc for helping me with this post!! @michellemisfit @mmmichyyy @darlingian @too-schoolforcool @juliakayyy @gardenerian @heymrspatel @heymacy @gallawitchxx @metalheadmickey @mickeysgaymom @thisdivorce @transmickey @tanktopgallavich @lingy910y @suchagallabitch @shippergirl121fic @the-rat-wins @thepupperino @energievie @callivich @lee-ow @purplemagpie @sleepyfacetoughguy @softmick @vintagelacerosette @sam-loves-seb @crossmydna @creepkinginc @suzy-queued @rereadanon @iansw0rld @milkmaidovich @sickness-health-all-that-shit @palepinkgoat @auds-and-evens @ardent-fox 💖

[tiresomeimagination]

Wait (707 x Reader)

Word Count: 1k

Warning: Spoilers for Seven’s route!

Author’s Note: So basically, I was thinking of how easy it’d be to freak Saeyoung out if you didn’t cope with the whole situation as perfectly as his good end MC is portrayed to lolol. So I wanted to do a little something with how he might react to something like that ^^ 

(Not sure how common this is, but I know squirreling away is a thing that I can be prone to do, and I realized that’d probably freak him out pretty bad hhh I’m sorry Saeyoung)

~~~~~

Seven wasn't sure how long he'd been typing away on his laptop. Fifteen minutes? Thirty? He was just in such a hurry to fix the apartment's security that he hadn't looked up from his screen in a while. When he did, the color drained from his face and his stomach dropped.

Where did you go? You were sitting over on the bed not too long ago. He hadn't heard you leave…but then again he was trying to ignore you.

Auugghhh, why did you do this to him? You managed to steal his attention without even being in the room. With a huff of frustration, he set down his computer and other hacking equipment and hurried out of the room. He looked in the kitchen first, but you weren't in there grabbing a snack like he figured you'd be. He looked around the whole apartment, growing increasingly anxious as he went longer with no sign of you. Did you try going outside again? He rushed back to his computer to check the CCTV…but you weren't there either.

He was starting to panic. He pulled out his phone, getting ready to call you, when he remembered the tracker he slipped into your pocket after the last time you wandered off while he wasn’t looking. He hurriedly checked it and breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that you were still in the apartment. You were…still in the same room?

Confused, Seven looked to the only logical last place to check.

You were huddled in the closet while you scrolled through your phone. Seven had been ignoring all your attempts at communicating. You knew he had important work to focus on and needed space to figure out…whatever it was that happened between him and the hacker…who is actually his long lost brother? It was all a lot for you to process. You just needed a little space of your own. Small, dark, and quiet, was just how you liked it when you felt overwhelmed.

Suddenly, the closet door was yanked open. You looked up to see Seven frowning down at you.

"What are you doing?" He asked in a clipped and frustrated tone.

"Nothing…" You responded quietly, instinctively shrinking in on yourself. Great. You made him upset again.

"You're doing nothing…in a closet?" He asked incredulously before he paused, sighing as he tried to keep his whirlwind of emotions at bay. "You should tell me before you disappear like that," he scolded. He wasn't sure whether to feel relieved you were okay or aggravated that he panicked so quickly for nothing.

"Well…I tried, but you were busy…" You muttered, playing awkwardly with your hands.

That made him freeze. If he didn't already feel like a big enough jerk, he did now. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't keep the look of worry off his face as he knelt down beside you. You looked so pitiful all curled up like that and Seven could feel his heart clenching painfully at the thought of you sitting alone in obvious distress.

He let out a heavy sigh before speaking again. "I'm sorry. I just have a lot to do to fix the security system…" He explained. Although it was true he did have a lot of work to do, it was also a good excuse to avoid focusing on just how jumbled and overwhelming his own emotions were right now.

"I understand, Seven…"

"No, you don't, I just- can you come out of here…please? You can be mad at me if you want, but don’t just disappear. I can't focus when I can't see you," he said, his voice still a bit strained, but softer than before.

You let out a sigh of your own and nodded. "Okay…"

You pocketed your phone and crawled out of the cozy darkness of the closet, pulling yourself back to your feet.

Seven stayed close, placing a tentative hand on your arm as he guided you over to the bed. “Come sit down…” He urged gently. You were a bit confused, but you relented and sat on the bed as he directed. He moved quickly, pulling a blanket over your shoulders before disappearing from the room. He returned a couple minutes later with a sandwich on a small plate.

You gave him a surprised look which only encouraged him to avoid your gaze as he pushed the plate into your hands.

“You’ve been through a traumatic experience and you haven’t eaten anything all day. You need to take care of yourself,” He explained, trying to keep his tone as clinical and unaffected as possible.

You smiled up at him. For the first time since Seven got here and began pushing you away, you didn’t feel so alone. “Thank you, Seven.”

His face heat up at the sight of your expression and he frowned deeply. “D-Don’t take this the wrong way or anything! I just can’t get any work done if I have to worry about whether you're okay or not," he grumbled, turning away and heading back toward his corner of the room.

"What about you? You haven't eaten in a while either," you pointed out, hoping that maybe he would eat with you.

However, Seven had already returned to his computer. "...It's fine. You just eat. I'll eat later. Now, I've got to get back to work, so…don't bother me…but…stay where I can see you…"

You frowned, still confused by this whiplash of behavioral switches. "Um…but-" You started to protest, but he simply slid his headphones back on. You sighed instead, turning your attention back to your meal.

He still didn't seem to have any interest in talking with you right now. But as much as he tried to discourage you from interacting with him…it couldn't be clearer now that he cared. No matter how much he insisted he wasn’t the man you thought he was…he was still just as kind. You were sure of it now that you had seen a glimpse past his cold front.

You smiled softly as you watched him feverishly tap away on his keyboard. If he needed time, you could wait. You would wait for him.

[trainsandkitties]

Welcome to the North-Western! All aboard

Hello there ladies, gentlemen and everyone in between. Let me introduce you to our beloved gang of Sodor's steamies

Thomas Billinton

Age: appears 18, is actually 75

Height: 175 cm/ 5'7

Sexuality/gender identity: cisgender/ bisexual

Pronouns: he/him

Other: Thom struggles with self-esteem isses, often wishing he was bigger, stronger or faster; currently doesn't have any relationships

Edward Furness

Age: appears to be in his early 60's, is actually 94

Height: 180 cm/ 5'10

Sexuality/gender identity: not labeled/ bisexual

Pronouns: he/they

Other: Eddie grew up in an orphanage in Barrow and Furness; he managed to graduate from art school; he's married to Gordon (not legally)

Henry (Gresley) Stanier

Age: appears to be in his 50's, is actually 71

Height: 189 cm/ 6'2

Sexuality/gender identity: cisgender/ homosexual

Pronouns: he/him

Other: Henry struggles with asthma and Crohn's disease; he's considered Gordon's half-brother; he adores gardening; Henry owns a little mongrel which he loves; he's in a relationship with Hiro

Gordon Gresley

Age: appears to be in his late 40's, is actually 69

Height: 195 cm/ 6'4

Sexuality/gender identity: cisgender/ homosexual /demisexual

Pronouns: he/him (she/her in drag)

Other: Gordon is on the autism spectrum, experiences psychotic episodes and suffers from moderate EDS; he's a giant cat person and adores anything related to cats; he sometimes takes part in drag shows

James Hughes

Age: appears to be around 30, is actually 81

Height: 185 cm/ 6'0

Sexuality/ gender identity: non-binary/ pansexual

Pronouns: they/them

Other: James suffers from severe pyrophoba caused by their accident; they have issues with upkeeping relationships so they often change partners; James looks up to Gordon often trying to mimick him in many ways, but overtime they found their own style

Percy Avonside

Age: appears 18, is actually 93

Height: 170 cm/ 5'6

Sexuality/ gender identity: transgender (ftm)/ not labeled

Pronouns: he/him

Other: Percy was inicially named Priscilla but upon coming to the NWR he was able to come out and live life as his real self; he's often anxious and needs reassurance and support; he's very imaginative and loves to hear stories from Salty and Edward

Emily Stirling

Age: appears to be in her 40's, is atually 95

Height: 177 cm/ 5'8

Sexuality/ gender identity: cisgender/ lesbian

Pronouns: she/her

Other: Emily is quite mature and kind but can be sassy and a bit impatient; she's one of James' closest friends and supports him through his ups and downs with relationships; she has a crush on Catilyn and they have a blooming relationship

Now some general info on the au etc. (Idk how to make titles ok? lolol)

[antiradqueer]

god I'm currently undercover within a rq group (this tumblr I'm using to post this is a part of that disguise lolol which is why I can't come off anon) as a social experiment and holy fucking shit this crap is so insanely racist, ablest, and just generally insane. I've looked through a lot of the flags (a rq I managed to fool gave a whole ass list to me) and they're so either dumb or horrifying. What do you mean "transdyslexic". What the actual fuck. What do you mean "permagroomed". What the hell what the fuck. "TRANSHARMFUL"????? "TRANSRAPIST"?????

anyways if you want gossip on what the hell is happening in this shitfuck of a group I'm your guy 🙏 Jesus Christ taking them down from the inside I am 🙏

thats just surface level stuff anon, but if you have more it would be interesting to hear