#-> spend another 4 hours driving home

[jumping-jackalope]

hmmhmhmh did you know. sometimes what the tide turns up is anger!

[gutsby]

Halftime

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: A chance meeting a week before Thanksgiving leaves you and your dad’s best friend to handle your feelings the only way you know how: fucking on the couch when your dad falls asleep during the game.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected piv. Age gap. Soft dom!Joel. Daddy kink. Praise kink (!) Makeup sex. Pussy pronouns.

Note: ‘Or maybe on a fifty yard line watchin’ Bama beat the hell out of Tennessee’ is a line from Riley Green’s ‘Hell of a Way to Go.’ I was in Knoxville when we played this year, but in my fic, Alabama wins. If you’re a Vols fan, I’m sorry. And RMFT.

Word count: 10.5k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Guilt brought you home, and liquor helped you stay.

These were two of the shittiest things a daughter could admit, but the fact was that you simply wouldn’t be here if your dad hadn’t broken his leg at work last week. That you wanted to help, but your patience was thin, and the only way you knew how to reconcile the two was to drink. A lot. Friday you came home, and by midday Saturday, sometime around eleven or twelve, you were plastered.

Staggering up the front steps of your childhood home with Theresa Servopoulos—newfound friend from camp and the heaviest drinker you’d met in a long, long time—hot on your heels. You’d just had brunch, and the meal was mostly liquid. Bottomless mimosas had been Frank’s idea, and when his husband Bill had offered to be the DD after the fact, you’d had no choice but to accept, really. You drank your weight in citrus and champagne and spent the whole morning getting to know Tess’s friends. As your state of intoxication progressed, you’d told them your troubles and all that had been plaguing you lately.

Now, hours later, you didn’t want to think at all.

You wanted to sit your ass down on the couch, turn the TV on to Disney+, and spend the next three to thirteen more binging Star Wars spin-offs and discussing with Tess at length whether Katee Sackhoff or Timothy Olyphant was the more fuckable supporting actor.

“Honestly…I’d let Jabba the Hutt hit,” you confessed, slurring your words a little as you fumbled for your key.

“You’re fucking lying,” Tess half-groaned, half-laughed.

She watched you try and jam metal into metal and fail twice before steeling herself against a rocking chair and reaching out her hand. You waved it away. At a distance, you heard the hum of an engine and another voice, loud:

“You ladies need a little help over there or wha-at?”

That was Frank. He was arguably the most drunk out of the three of you and hanging his handsome, greying head out of the passenger side of Bill’s Chevy S-10. He’d seen you try and fail with the key, too, and seemed more eager than ever to lend a hand, while his husband was likely kicking himself for ever offering to drive you back.

Tess gripped the porch chair harder and gestured, dazed.

“Give her a minute, she’s—” She hiccuped once. “—intelligent and entirely capable. She’s got this, OK?”

You didn’t. You really didn’t. And by the way you were finessing this key you didn’t feel too fucking smart either. You crammed your key against the tight, rigid slot in the front door of your home, missed it completely, and then wondered, dimly, how men were able to aim their dicks.

How Joel ever managed to fit that massive, throbbing—

“Fuck!” you cursed, kicking the doorframe with a huff.

The periphery of your vision was spinning and swimming a little now, and before you knew it, Tess had snatched your keychain from out of your hand. She got to work.

And while she did, you turned back to Bill and Frank, whose truck was still idling quietly in your driveway.

Frank had an eyebrow raised. His chin was in his palm, and his elbow was planted in the car’s open window. With that look alone, you knew what he wanted to say.

“Fine…fine,” you capitulated in a loud, droning shout. Head spinning, “You can give him my fucking number.”

Frank grinned at that.

“No shit?” he yelled back.

“Yeah. I really am that horny.”

From somewhere in the car, Bill groaned his disapproval. Frank’s smile only widened. It’d been his idea to set you up with one of their neighbors after you’d divulged all of your dating life turmoils over eggs benedict and grits that morning—how fucking your dad’s best friend had, in fact, not been the wisest decision and you needed something new to get your mind off the man for a little while. Frank had been all too happy to offer supplying your number to the so-called ‘dreamboat’ next door to them. Initially, you’d brushed it off, but the longer you stood on this porch contemplating the hellish few days you’d be spending at home for Thanksgiving, the more you drunkenly reasoned a dick might do you some good.

And if it wasn’t from Joel Miller, even better. You leaned against the nearest porch column and pointed at Frank.

Then at Bill, squinting dumbly and faux-accusingly.

“I’m desperate, but I’m trusting y’all, too, alright?”

You wanted to get fucked, not fucked over, again. Frank seemed to understand right away and nodded his head.

“I’ll give him your number, tell him you’re hot—which you are—and you two can work something out. It’ll be fine.”

He pointed back at you, still smiling, and you hoped it would be. Behind you, Tess had solved the puzzle of the chrome-plated house key, and had thrust the door open. She stumbled inside, and your feet started to follow hers.

“Tell Tess to text us your number!” Frank had to cup his hands saying it, as Bill was already starting to pull away.

You nodded and waved. Watched the world veer sideways and your kind, considerate, hammered new friend-of-a-friend repeat how great this was going to be—this guy’ll do you so good you’ll forget Joel exists—while you backed into the house. A gust of warm air from inside pricked at your skin, and along with that touch came the tiniest trace of hope. A sanguine sort of warmth that twisted low in your gut and made you smile.

And cup your hands, as Frank had, while calling to him:

“How old is Mr. Dreamboat, anyway?!”

The truck was crunching its ways down the gravel drive. Its path was slow, though, and Frank’s voice was clear.

“FORTY-ONE!”

It was as though you were hearing those words in a dream. You almost couldn’t help what you said next.

Fanning yourself, you yelled back, “I lo-o-o-ve that!”

“What?!”

Frank hadn’t heard you. They were farther away now.

You had to practically scream it now, but you were drunk enough that you didn’t really care. Tess was entertained, half-hunched on the floor and trying to work off her shoes while she laughed at this stupid exchange.

In truth, it didn’t matter how loud you yelled, because you lived on several dozen acres of land, and your dad wasn’t home. He’d told you that he was hitching a ride with Tommy to their usual weekend haunt to watch the Alabama-Tennessee game, and it started an hour ago. The house was empty, and you were free to screech.

“I said, ‘I love that’!”

“Yeah? Love what?!”

Frank was hanging halfway out of the passenger window by now, and his face was flushed with moronic humor.

Bill was probably grinding his teeth together as he drove.

“O-O-O-OLD MEN!” you shrilled, as loud as you could.

Next thing you knew, Tess was on the floor. Wheezing.

It didn’t matter whether Frank could hear you now; evidently, he’d gotten the message. Their truck was crawling down your drive with a low, rumbling crackle, and the eyes that were still glued to yours were shining.

Before they turned out of sight, Frank waved again and blew you a kiss, as you and Tess had done to him at some point earlier that day. He slipped back into the car, and your sides were nearly aching from how hard you were giggling—nothing was even that particularly funny, but with a nice noontime buzz and Tess’s relentless cackling from across the foyer, you couldn’t help it. You shut the door, staggered over, and were about to drop.

Right when you were about to collapse, though, Tess wobbled up. You saw her raise two hands in front of her.

“I’m— I’m gonna pee…or puke…possibly,” she warned.

That wasn’t good.

You pointed up.

“First door on your left. Do you need any—”

But Tess was already staggering off. You might’ve laughed again, and trailed after her with a plea to try not to projectile vomit all over those nice festive towels your dad had bought, but the moment came and went quick. In fact, it wasn’t even brought to an end by your friend’s departure but rather the screech of her feet on the floor.

Nearly tripping over herself to leave, then crashing into something else before she could. You heard a thwack.

Then her huff, ‘Fuck. Sorry!’ And you turned.

You looked up and cursed.

Again, you felt like you might be in a dream. Only this time, the sight had more of a nightmarish hue, and you had only to grip the edge of a chair—no, a table, a side table—beside you in the hall to keep yourself upright.

Your sweet, sloppy-drunk friend had run straight into Joel. She was raising her hands again and saying sorry.

You could tell she meant it, too. She was just shaking her head, appearing to try and rid herself of the stunned, dumbfounded feelings, when she tilted her chin up.

Then, somehow even brighter, she smiled in recognition.

“Lucien Flores!”

Not missing a beat, like you knew she wouldn’t:

“You fucking prick.”

Of course she was sober enough to remember his face. The time she’d mistaken him for an uptight FEDRA counselor back at camp. How you’d fucked him on her bunk. All the shit-talking you’d been doing about him since, too. You knew she wasn’t a woman to mince words, so it didn’t surprise you in the slightest when next she placed a hand on his pec, patted it lightly and added:

“You’re an asshole. A spineless, slimy, sad sack of shit.”

Joel blinked as she walked past him, toward the stairs.

“Good to see you, too, Tess.”

“Eat shit and die.”

“Theresa.”

You hadn’t even meant to say the last aloud; it just came out. Tess was holding the rail, going slow but determined to get upstairs without losing her food all over the floor.

The next thing you heard was the slam of the bathroom door. You winced and thought of your dad’s decorative towels a moment. That thought was then supplanted by another, though you pretended not to feel it, at least outwardly. You brushed past Joel to go to the kitchen.

Why was he here? He surely wouldn’t have come unless your father was there, and your dad was supposed to be watching the Vols take the ass-beating of a lifetime from the Tide. Or maybe vice-versa. You weren’t sure how the latter was doing since Saban retired. You rubbed one temple as you opened a cabinet and looked for a glass.

Reconsidering, you opted for a plastic cup instead.

Your head was throbbing as you walked to the sink.

You sensed you likely weren’t of a mind to be holding anything fragile, and the second that followed only proved it. A footfall sounded by the kitchen island, and you flinched, dropping your cup like a fucking idiot.

“Where’s my dad?” you blurted out, not thinking.

You didn’t want his voice to be the first to fill the silence. You picked your cup off the floor and turned on the tap.

More silence followed. You couldn’t be sure if it was your own drunken paranoia or a genuine feeling of two eyes on your back, but your skin bristled. You were prepared to pose the question again when your answer came in the form of a new sound: not Joel’s voice, but another’s.

An announcer, apparently. You turned your head and saw ESPN on the living room TV, where the game was playing. In front of the screen, your dad was supine on his recliner. His jaw hung slack, and his eyes were shut.

So much for those morning beers with Tommy.

His leg was armored with a boot: a real, no-bullshit cast meant to protect the tibia he’d shattered, propped up in front of him while the other dangled haphazardly from the chair. You watched him, feeling an odd mix of pity, nausea, and love, and for a second, you didn’t think to move. This man was the reason you were home, after all—and why Joel was, too. You almost forgot your anger.

Your cup was full. Overflowing. You turned off the sink, then poured what excess you could as your hand shook.

You shouldn’t have been holding anything in that moment, off-kilter and unnerved as you were, but you wanted to seem occupied. You inhaled and started past Joel again, who was leaning against the counter, quiet.

He still didn’t talk, and let you stroll about half a foot in front of him before you felt the cup lift out of your hand.

“Hey—” you started.

But Joel was resuming your path before you could finish. He’d snagged the water from your grasp and made his way out of the kitchen, calmly, and you didn’t have to ask to know where he was going. You felt a pang of rekindled resentment but said nothing, knowing that was useless.

Arrogant motherfucker. Patronizing asshole. Clearly, you couldn’t be trusted to carry a cup of fucking water up the stairs in your own home, so he had had to do it for you. You went over to your father in the living room, blinking through a dozen more pissed off thoughts, when you glanced down at one of your hands again. You winced.

Stop shaking.

You needed to stay busy. Make use of those dumb, trembling hands while Joel was here and not let him see that it was all from memories of him—not the mimosas—that you couldn’t keep a steady hold to save your life.

You started to clean, mindlessly. Cleared the old coffee table of its manifold beer cans and plates of stale pizza. You walked with an unsteady gait, the room still tilting a little, but you ended up getting a decent amount cradled in your arms and into the trash or the sink shortly after.

You had just taken a bite of a slice of pepperoni and made a face when your dad shifted in his seat, letting out a grunt. Still unconscious, he rubbed at his arms. The house around him was warm, but never quite enough for a man who appeared to have been born cold-blooded. After years of this, you knew the routine; you dropped your pizza, went to the thermostat, and cranked it to 75.

Less than a minute later, it came: “Boiling us alive, huh?”

It was the first you’d heard from Joel since he spoke his curt greeting to Tess. You were over by the closet getting a blanket, and Joel was stood in the doorway, frowning.

You turned, holding up the big wool throw for him to see before you went back over to your dad in the recliner.

“He needs it,” you replied, gaze averted.

“By ‘it’ you mean his electric bill gone through the roof?”

He could be such a father sometimes. The worst kind.

“No, keeping him fucking warm, Joel.”

And the end of the last sentence you hadn’t meant to be so loud. Or mean. You didn’t really care whether it offended him, but the thought of waking your dad to hear that—being rude to your ‘Uncle Joel,’ as your dad had so innocently called the man last month—was awful. You squinted seeing him stir under the blanket, but then he turned to the side and snored even louder. You sighed.

“Doctor’s got him on some heavy painkillers. He’s been out since before the last game even ended,” Joel said.

You glanced at the TV. The game was crawling to halftime at a snail’s pace, by the looks of it. You smiled, seeing those puke-pumpkin-hued fucks getting smoked. In a second, though, the curve of your lips was fading.

“Will you stop?”

Your voice was shrill. You hurried over to Joel, who was busy dicking around with the thermostat and trying to get it down to 68 degrees—freezing, in your dad’s mind.

“It’s too hot.”

“No, it’s not.”

“You’re being—”

“This isn’t your fuckin’ house, Miller! Quit!”

“Yell a little louder, why don’t y—” Joel began to scold.

You wouldn’t let him. Of all things to get on your ass about now, volume wasn’t the hill he’d die on today. Before you even realized what you two were doing, you shoulder-checked him like you might do an annoying brother, and his arm wound swiftly around your front. It didn’t hurt, but it sure as hell made you mad to be held.

You made a jab at Joel’s ribs and ignored the grunt from him. Anger was a natural defense—your default state.

Every last semi-tranquil encounter you’d shared with someone you cared about before was always marred by rage at some point, and with Joel, it came as easy as breathing. If you weren’t tearing each other’s clothes off, you were ripping him a new one, or he was grating your nerves. You didn’t get along, and you likely never would.

That didn’t mean there wasn’t need there somewhere. You just smothered it with something hostile, constantly.

You wished it would go away. You shoved at his arm.

“You’re gonna wake him,” you hissed, strained.

“Yeah? That’s what you’re worried about?”

You wriggled against Joel’s hold and, scrunching your nose, made a pass for the dial on the wall. He caught it.

Now he was holding your hand in one of his, and your shoulder with the other as his forearm crossed your chest. Joel’s frame was looming over yours, and you glared ahead of you, where the screen still read ‘68.’

You could throttle him—Joel Miller simply refused to lose

“Is that all you’ve gotta say to me, after this whole time?”

His breaths were tight like yours, but the voice was slow.

“What else is there to say?” you snapped.

“You’ve been ignoring me all month.”

“I’m in college. I have shit to do.”

“Like block all of my calls?”

“Go fuck yourself, Joel.”

“Just tell me why.”

“Fuck. You.”

Your last two caustic words were still warm on your tongue when Joel turned you around. Again, he wasn’t forceful or harsh—your looks had enough vitriol for the two of you—but he pushed your body against the wall. Right beside the thermostat, your spine straightened, and your legs wrapped reflexively around his waist.

“Is that an invitation?” he hummed, voice palpably lower.

Un-fucking-believable, you thought. Of course, it was.

Silently, you prided yourself in wearing a dress that day. It wasn’t the short, red-and-white gingham thing you’d worn to the fair with Joel last month, but it was loose. Flowing. Easy enough for him to hike up your legs, sliding a coarse, warm palm up your thigh while the other held you tight to the wall. His hips pinned yours, and with that gesture, you felt him hard and desperate in denim.

“Need me to fuck you now or what? Is that the only way I’m getting a word out of this mouth?” he pressed again.

Honestly, it was. You nodded once to say as much.

Then he pushed you harder against the wall. He wrestled with his jeans just enough for you to hear a belt, and a button, and a short, sharp zip come down, and your mind was swimming with filthy ideas when he grunted.

Joel nosed your cheek, and a hand made its way to your mouth. You sucked in a breath right before you felt three fingertips graze the seam of your lips. Prying them open.

“If I’m fucking you here, I need more than a nod, kid.”

You really, really hated him now. This felt like a game. His index curled into your bottom teeth and pulled your mouth open wider, while his own was smiling, faintly. It was hard to talk with his fingers skirting your tongue—his warm, bare member springing out and grazing your folds through your panties down below—but you tried.

Your words were muffled as you spoke, “Please fuck me.”

Clearly, that was all Joel needed. With an easy nudge from the head of his cock, he pushed your underwear to the side, and his grin got bigger when he felt you soaked.

You were drooling down his length, and he hadn’t so much as touched you before he pushed you up against his body. It felt almost shameful as he slid himself inside.

Then, in the next moment, your brain went blank. Your bodies were joined completely, and Joel had you seated all the way down to the base of his cock, where a tuft of salt-and-pepper hair tickled your skin. His fingers hung limply from your lips while he nestled in; when you groaned, he used his middle and index to stifle the noise.

“Shh, hey—” he started, as if suddenly remembering where he was, and whose daughter he was fucking, “You’re okay. You’re good…I know that feels good.”

You despised him even more when he was right. He pressed the heft of his belly into you, and with the friction, you couldn’t help but whimper against his hand.

“Fuck you,” you bit again, this time through fingers.

“I am.”

Then he pushed them in further, and he made you suck. Joel started fucking you gently against the wall, and with the first few strokes, you knew you’d be putty soon enough. You focused on feeling and trying not to whine.

“I’ve been texting,” Joel continued, breath labored, sounding half-crazed, “Calling every chance I got—”

He paused to jerk his hips harder. Make you bounce on his cock or maybe just hold him closer from the force of it. And you did, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and reluctantly burying your face into the side.

He was familiar, that was for sure. You tensed seeing something else familiar—your dad in the next room—and preemptively swallowed a moan while Joel kept going.

Fucking you stupid and talking to you, per usual.

“—to make sure you were OK,” he finished, panting.

Pulling his fingers from your lips so you could answer:

“I’m fine.”

“Are we?”

“You lied to me!”

And no sooner had he retracted his hand that he needed to clamp his palm over your mouth. You’d said that loud.

In the next room over, through the open space between the kitchen and the den, you heard your dad snore softly. When your gaze flitted back to Joel’s, it was like you were chiding the other at once—whose idea was this, anyway? Slowly, he moved his hand down, but his gaze was stern.

“Didn’t mean to lie,” Joel answered, now lower than ever.

“But you did. Dad’s been fucking his old sidepiece, my mom’s best friend, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I didn’t think it was my place—”

“Your place?!” You made sure to keep your indignation hushed this time, but your eyes went wide. Incredulous.

You would’ve shoved Joel off if he hadn’t moved first. Neither one of you had had a fraction of the presence of mind to be thinking straight here, obviously, so when he carried you closer to a table in an adjoining room, all you were thinking was how not to lose your cool completely. When Joel tried to set you down on the wooden surface, you slipped away. You moved to the couch; you weren’t even considering where you were going, just that you wanted more of him, and you needed to be done quick.

If that meant fucking on the sofa behind your dad’s recliner, so be it. Joel balked a second before following.

“Are you…?” he started, voice no louder than a whisper.

“What? Not your ‘place’ here, either?” you shot back.

Admittedly, you were both insane. No matter how far away your dad’s sleeping form happened to be, or how thoroughly knocked out he appeared from the drugs, this was batshit, objectively. Joel’s eyes narrowed at you.

Then he moved some more. Casting a sidelong glance at the recliner less than ten feet away, he gripped himself and gave you a look as if to say, ‘Are we crazy now, or…?’

You nodded to confirm that you were.

By moving again, apparently, Joel was saying the same.

Except now it wasn’t with words but with a look—eyeing you hungrily and setting all rational, sane thought aside to climb over the couch to you. Your legs were spread.

Joel slotted himself quickly between them, then inside you, without another word. His body crowded yours. The scent you knew was also the fragrance you hated most: the smell of his American Spirits. He tried to kiss you with those lips, and you dodged them, choosing instead to hold the coarse greyish hairs at the nape of his neck and pull them. Draw him closer to your body without letting him get too close to you. Joel let out a grunt.

His hips rutted in short, quick, shallow motions again, like he was desperate to feel anything. When you wouldn’t accept his lips on yours, they fell to the side of your face. He held your sides while he dragged his cock in and out of your pulsing heat, and his breaths fanned heavy on your cheek. His stubble was sharp on your skin.

“Anything you want,” he huffed shortly.

His mouth was right by your ear, and his words were spoken in a breath. And another. And another. Still panting and dragging his old, weary hips back and forth in an effort to pleasure you. He felt indescribably good.

“Want…what?” you murmured back.

You clawed at his torso and locked your legs around his waist. You glanced over at the recliner, turned away from the couch, thankfully, and hoped it wouldn’t move again. Your dad’s breaths were deep, and so was Joel inside you

Sliding a hand under your head and cradling your body to his, and still maintaining a bruising pace with his cock—you almost couldn’t take it. You wanted to come undone.

And there Joel went, murmuring in your ear. Battling the urge not to get too loud with your father there, but still:

“I’ll do anything…anything you want.”

“W-Why? For what?”

“To say I’m sorry.”

“You don’t—”

But your words were cut short. For a second, your heart leapt into your throat thinking the sound was coming from your dad’s old chair, and then you realized that it wasn’t. Just the same, your terror spiked again when you sensed it was somewhere inside—coming from the back.

“Can I get a…ROLL TIDE?!” someone yelled.

Tommy Miller wasn’t even an Alabama fan.

Still, it seemed he was here to celebrate like one anyway. You froze momentarily, taking in the shout, then the steps, then the linoleum floor of the mud room being shuffled across before the boots were kicked off quick.

His brother was quicker. Joel climbed off of you in a blink, jeans and boxers trailing just as fast. Then his hands were dropping to you, gripping your arms, and heaving you up. You stumbled. You shoved your skirt down, fast, and barely had the time to breathe while you skittered after Joel, still in his hold. The two of you ran like hell: quiet, but like your asses might’ve been on fire. You made it out to the foyer, and from there, you could hear Tommy making a fuss in the kitchen. Joel strode three steps at a time going up the stairs, and behind him, you nearly face-planted. He tugged you up then, swiftly.

Silent as death at the top of the stairs and trying to usher you into a room, not saying a word. You dug in your heels

“Wait. Wait—Tess?”

“Napping in the tub.”

Of course. You cast one last pensive look at the bathroom door before you let Joel nudge you away.

You were pushed into a room; you knew it was yours. Steeped as you were in fear, shame, and lingering inebriation, you couldn’t waste a second getting in—and neither could Joel. His frame followed close while Tommy’s old, familiar sounds grew louder downstairs. He ushered you further, walked you forward, pushed you in an inch or two too far, and before you knew it, your knees were bumping along the front of your bed. You tripped.

Your hands flew out to break your fall. Unfortunately, the limbs that were meant to stay straight were weaker than you’d hoped, and instead of holding you up, they crumpled beneath your weight. You fell on your face.

The spot where you landed was soft, though.

You let out a muffled grunt into cotton sheets.

Across from where you lay, Joel’s steps were slow—painstakingly so—and when you’d propped yourself up and blinked again and again to adjust your eyes to the dim half-light of the room, you could see him there. Pacing. Skating a look to the doorknob, as if checking to make sure he’d locked the thing properly, then running a hand through his hair. From your perch, you saw a wince.

Then his face turned to you. Again—guilty.

What the fuck am I doing here with you?

That was what you thought you saw in his expression, anyway. You felt compelled to ask him the very same.

“Why are you here? Why is Tommy here?” As if to punctuate your question, more footfalls followed, loud, “I thought he was taking my dad to the bar. And you—”

“I know. He was supposed to. Then he texted and said your dad crashed before the Notre Dame game even ended, so he figured he’d head over to the bar himself.”

You were about to speak, but Joel continued.

“I said he was an idiot to leave your dad home alone, since the man can hardly walk on his own. So I came.”

You swallowed. While some momentary swell of gratitude threatened to constrict your throat, you forced out a frown and scooted back. The room swayed a little.

“That the only reason?” you asked, clipped.

At the foot of the bed, Joel held your gaze. It was stern. Your own vacillating look was no match for the man who, in spite of the two or ten beers he’d likely guzzled that morning, could stand firm. Prop his hands on his hips.

Look every bit the displeased fatherly figure while he watched you crawl across the plush, pink bed at length.

It wasn’t right. You saw it in his eyes: the want painted there, however burdened by shame they might’ve been. No doubt seeing your childhood bedroom had kicked the guilt into overdrive, reminding him, plainly, that he was his age, and you were yours. And his best friend’s kid. The irises that shone in the glow of warm white fairy lights overhead flitted to the canopy where they hung. Joel sized up the mesh overtaking most of your bed, all flowing and girlish and juvenile as it cascaded from the four wooden posters, and he had to shake his head. He blinked faster, as if trying to rid himself of some thought.

“I’ll go,” he choked out.

“Alright.”

You unzipped your dress and let it fall to the bed the second Joel had started to turn. He stopped. Got himself an eyeful and probably could’ve bruised every fingertip from how hard he tightened his grip along his belt loops.

He watched you slip out of the fabric, then brush it aside. Clothed in just your bra and panties, you went to the nightstand and opened a drawer. You leaned down.

And, while you kneeled and bent over to reach, Joel was afforded a too-perfect view of the wet patch in the fabric between your legs. You could’ve sworn you heard a groan before you crawled back over to the place where you’d been—American Spirits and a lighter now in your hand.

“Where’d you…” Joel started, only to lose his train of thought the moment you sat and unclasped your bra.

You lit up, comfortably. Nodding to the window.

“Mind opening that?” you asked him.

Joel stood back and stared. He squared his shoulders, seeming poised to say ‘no,’ when his gaze dropped lower.

“Those’ll kill you.” But he was just looking at your breasts

Reluctantly, he moved from where he’d fixed himself at the center of your room and walked over to the window. He slid the pane up, but he didn’t let his gaze stray from you too long. As soon as the smoke found a place to go, he turned. He shook his head again. You smiled, then.

“These are yours,” you replied. You bared your teeth at him with the cigarette in between them, teasing a little.

After, you closed your lips and inhaled once. You blew a breath through your nose and let the smoke trail out. Joel scowled as he took a step closer to your bed.

Somewhere downstairs Tommy had cranked the game up louder. You could hear the blare of fanfare and a booming, cheery voice announcing a first down.

Meanwhile, Joel’s jaw hadn’t flinched. His lips were still curled in that sour, unsightly grimace. He had to have gotten a good deal of practice doing that while you were away, with every text, call, and FaceTime you’d declined over the past month, you imagined. Now it wasn’t so much a matter of being ignored as it was getting smoke blown into his face that made him irritated. Galled, even.

Joel made a pass for your mouth as if to take the cigarette away, but you were too quick. You slid back.

“Finders keepers,” you chided, trying not to giggle.

“Give it.”

“Make me.”

“Kid, don’t start.”

Joel’s face was turning pink as he leaned in again. In no more than a second, though, you’d made it safely out of his reach. He had to plant a knee on your bedspread, grit his teeth even tighter, and stretch his frame further in, and just when he’d gotten within half a foot from where you sat perched at the head of the bed, you felt a snap.

Or perhaps heard a groan and surmised the rest. Joel cursed, ‘Fuck!’ then fell to his elbow, hissing with pain.

He gripped his side, and he winced. Your eyes went wide.

“Joel?”

The cigarette fell from your lips; as soon as it did, Joel swept a brusque, graceless touch in your direction. He held tight to his side while he swatted the thing away. The second the still-lit stick hit the covers, Joel had it brushed to the side, sending it flying off of your bed.

His nostrils flared when he stood again. He crushed the cigarette underfoot. He looked pleased—then pained.

“Joel!” you hissed. This time reaching for him, and catching him narrowly before he lurched into your bed.

“‘M’alright. Stop, stop. It’s okay.”

Joel grunted, low. He held one bedpost. He clutched somewhere on his body close to the small of his back, and you could tell he felt a strain. He noticeably tensed.

“I’m fine.” And then he was starting to wave you off, too, “Lifetime of smoking’ll do that to you. And turning forty.”

You believed him. What you wouldn’t accept was how fast he tried to bend down and retrieve the cigarette from the floor. His cheeks flushed red with the effort.

And just when he’d started to tilt, you tugged him back.

You gripped his shirt and yanked him onto the bed.

Maybe that wasn’t the best for the muscle he’d pulled. At any rate, though, it was better than straining another by trying to pick up a cigarette butt, you reasoned. You hadn’t even jerked him that hard, and your bed was soft. Joel fell with a thud amidst a sea of satin, plush faux fur, a half-dozen pillows, and a mound of stuffed animals. His lips frowned as if annoyed, but the eyes betrayed relief. He breathed out a shallow puff of air once he’d settled.

“You need to stop smoking.” Grumbling now, of course.

You wanted to pinch the pout clean off his mouth.

“Yeah, really, Joel? You first,” you shot back.

“I’m old.”

“No shit.”

“Watch it.”

For someone who’d practically thrown out his back just bending at the waist, Joel Miller loved to wax poetic on the dangers of Big Tobacco. And getting old. By the time he groaned and laid flat, you decided you’d had enough of this sexless intermission, and you straddled his hips.

“Wh—” Joel huffed in protest, pushing at hands all too eager to act on his belt, “You still haven’t answered me.”

“What was the question?” you returned, careless.

But you knew it clear as day: Are we alright?

The old man didn’t stop the path of your hands, but he certainly made a show to try and pretend to stall their speed. He watched, curiosity piqued and shame still roiling in his gut, and he let you unbuckle, unzip, and finally free him from the confines of his briefs. He sighed.

It was then that you felt him hard against your palm, firm as he was before. Your mouth watered even more. When your eyes flitted up to his for permission, you didn’t expect to find resistance there, so the subsequent grip around your wrist took you back. Joel seized hold of your hand in his, and, rather than stopping you completely, he paused it in place. Sank your touch into his groin, as though tempting you with the outline of his bare length.

That was cruel. He knew what feeling him did to you.

“You know exactly what question I meant.”

What such a move would do to any girl in your position—freshly fucked and eager for more—and in your bed, no less. You didn’t care for the guilt Joel harbored today; he didn’t get to demand answers you weren’t ready to give.

“What? Feeling bad for boning your friend’s kid all of a sudden?” You smiled, voice devoid of any humor as you tried to pivot subjects, “Didn’t look like that downstairs.”

Shame flared in Joel’s eyes. Two could play at this game.

His grip tightened around your wrist, and he kept it still. In spite of this hold, you were able to flex your fingers the tiniest bit and take him snugly in your hand. He held you, and you held him, and for the next few excruciating moments, that was all either of you could do. Until:

“I would do it again.”

And then Joel’s touch was moving yours. Rubbing him. Seizing your hip with his free hand and rocking you back.

Making you hold his gaze while his dick swelled bigger.

“I don’t care if that’s wrong,” he added through his teeth.

“Wrong,” you mumbled absently. Touching him more.

It was as though you both were rooted in place by warring feelings—Joel by guilt, and you by knowing. Needing each other, and being unable to break apart. Words flowed like molasses; their end was no less sweet.

“I’d fuck you anywhere you asked if you would just—” Joel broke off suddenly, taking a breath, “Forgive me.”

Please.

The eyes beneath yours were pained with remorse.

You squeezed him tighter, and you stared more carefully.

“Here?” It left you more like a breath.

“Here.”

Your skull still buzzed. Your vision still wavered some. You could scarcely hope to know what it was that made this man a worse intoxicant than every drink you’d guzzled that morning, but the way he reached for your body and slid you back in the bed made answers pointless anyway. All you needed to know was that he wanted you, too. You could sort out the rest of it later; you let him lie you down

Joel was out of place here, that much was obvious. Clearly, no man skating through middle age belonged in the bedroom of a girl as young as you—and that was overlooking the paternal connection altogether—but all the same, he guided you back. Trailed your body with his. If it weren’t for the greys and the striations on his face and the legions of freckles bred from decades spent baking under the sun, he might’ve struck you as a much younger man. His every move now seemed to show it.

His hands shook like yours had earlier.

He watched you slide under the covers, then swallowed.

“Still cold?”

“Yeah.”

He gave you a long look, as though considering what to say. You beckoned him over and decided to talk for him.

“Like father, like daughter, I guess,” you added. Teasing.

You could hear the groan start to bubble in his throat, but Joel let you pull him in. He climbed under the sheets.

Like a much younger, doubly nervous teen around his date past curfew, he slotted between your legs with a moment’s indecision. He shed his clothes but was slow. Your gaze flitted to his torso, then his legs, and watching him gingerly undress, you couldn’t help but grin a little.

Both of you were naked in under a minute. Joel’s body was like a furnace searing hot between your thighs.

And while you smiled at him, he frowned down at you.

You might’ve expected anything next, except hearing:

“We aren’t gonna be parents anytime soon, right?”

You choked.

“What?”

Joel blinked.

“The Plan B, I mean,” he went on, color crawling up to his cheeks. He blinked harder, like he’d been dreading this, “Wasn’t sure if you ever got your…yeah. Just wonderin’.”

Just wondering.

After Joel’s Cenozoic-era condom had broken the first time you two had ever fucked, you realized you hadn’t bothered to tell him if you ended up getting your period. He’d probably been trying to ask that over the course of several dozen unanswered texts and calls the last month, but you’d been radio silent. Your drinking today had to have given the truth away, but you still felt a pang of guilt

You admired his sincerity. You didn’t want to mock it.

But when your lips twitched the tiniest bit, Joel’s did too. He’d heaved a sigh of relief before you’d even answered him in words, and for a moment, things were easy again.

“I’m sorry, Miller. That probably had you scared shitless.”

“It did.”

And, under most other circumstances, you probably would’ve expected him to chastise you for it a little. Chide you for your immaturity and shake his head, because this was always how it went. But he didn’t.

Joel smiled back instead, and he kissed your forehead.

You blinked, shortly summoning words to try and deflect.

“I mean, like…can you even imagine us having a kid?”

“I can’t. I think I’d be…” Joel trailed off, at a loss.

“Pissed to be changing diapers in your fifties, I bet,” you finished for him, and that made him laugh. You joined in, grinning, and for a second you almost forgot he was still between your legs. His cock softened against your belly.

“You’d be a hot mom. I’d be an old dad,” he countered, suddenly lowering his face to kiss and nuzzle your neck. When the ebbs of your laughter were renewed in a fit of giggles, and your feet kicked helplessly under the covers as he used his mouth and hands to tickle you then, you had to choke through your words—‘Joel, stop, I mean it.’

“Ticklish and hot, I forgot.”

His fingers were relentless on your ribs. You kicked again.

“Don’t fucking test me. I—I will kick you out,” you warned

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Go on, then.”

Evidently, the thought of ordering him back downstairs with your dad and Tommy seemed like the least likely outcome at the moment, so Joel kept tickling you. He moved his lips to your ear, about to whisper something stupid and teasing, most likely, when you jerked yourself the other way. You slid just far enough to reach off the bed. While you clawed at your nightstand, Joel simply draped his body over yours and went on kissing and touching and relishing the sounds you were making—even while you were cursing his name under your breath.

“Go. Go. Enough of this shit, Miller,” you finally told him, nudging Joel back and waving something in his face.

“Wh—”

“Since getting knocked up is the last thing either of us wants, and we’ve been terrible about playing it safe…”

It didn’t take long for Joel to recognize what it was. As soon as he’d lifted his head to ogle it, you didn’t let him stare at the box of condoms for more than a second or two before tearing it open. Its seal had still been intact.

“New stash for someone special?” Joel hummed, low.

“Nope. Just you.”

Your old friend didn’t seem to appreciate that remark, returning your smirk with a roll of his eyes, but he took the metallic-wrapped rubber when you offered him one anyway. He tore off the top. He probably would’ve liked to put the thing on, but with all the time and brainless banter that had passed, he had to get himself hard again. He eyed you once, and, wrapping a hand around himself semi-erect, he seemed to want to say something more.

You wouldn’t let him. You kissed him, and he kissed back, and with your legs sliding around the backs of his own underneath the soft, warm sheets, he probably forgot what he was going to say. Your lips and tongues intertwined without needing those words to be spoken, and before long, Joel was growing harder. He sucked in a breath when your hand reached down to touch him, soft.

Joel grunted when your touch replaced his. While you stroked his length, you could see the muscles tense in his stomach. The heft of his belly was smooth, and firm, and protruding with little patches of black and grey hairs, and the man looked so undone already with just your fingers curling over his shaft. You would’ve held him that way for as long as he asked. Would’ve relished the warmth of him in your hand, the way his breaths grew more ragged as he kissed you and let you pump him gently between your body and his. You might’ve mistaken it for something romantic when he reached up and brushed the hair out of your face, before pulling away and mumbling, ‘That’s it. That feels real good, sweetheart. You’re doin’ so good.’ But being the way you were, you couldn’t accept such intimacy without wanting to shy away. You pushed his words aside and reached for the condom in his hand, swallowing thickly as you did.

The latex went on quickly. Joel hardly seemed of a mind to try and slow things down with his body just as taut, on edge, and desperate as yours. He planted an arm beside your head, and you guided his length between your legs. It felt cozy. Tender. Nervous like this could’ve been your first. A little strange seeing how you’d done this multiple times before—had started it just downstairs, against a wall and on the couch—and somehow, felt different now.

Joel sank in, and both of you groaned.

“I missed you, baby.”

It came from him all in the same breath. Your walls clenched, and he said it again. You peered up at the man, half-expecting to see his eyes shut and the feeling of you guiding his words more than anything else—he hadn’t meant you, but what was between your legs. But when you looked, you met his gaze. Joel was earnest, clearly.

“Did you miss me?” he panted, hips dragging back.

With the head of his cock drawn all the way up to your entrance, tip stretching that soft, sticky flesh, you could scarcely do more than whimper. You laced your fingers together behind his neck, felt him push in again, and suddenly, the sensations churning low in your gut got warmer. Stronger. They made you want to hold on longer

He felt so big inside you. Overwhelming you with his size and his scent and the way his lips trailed over yours while he fucked you; it all seemed too much to give a response.

Joel kissed you again, and your bodies fell into a rhythm. You squeezed his neck, let out a breathy whine when his cock grazed something soft and sensitive between your walls, and then pulled away fully to look down and watch.

He did too. He kissed the crown of your head, mumbling:

“See how good we fit?”

Those words could’ve sent you over the edge. Your body shuddered at the next thrust, feeling the warmth of his breath still fanning across your face, and you nodded.

Your eyes all but glazed over as you watched Joel’s big, glistening cock disappear and reappear from inside your body, coated with your arousal and the rubber and looking every bit as dizzyingly good as it had before. The wet noises only increased in volume the more he sped up, and with the need blossoming in your stomach, you had no choice but to moan. Joel plunged even deeper.

“Did she miss me, at least? Did she miss her daddy?”

Your walls clenched at those words—‘she,’ ‘daddy.’

Still, you couldn’t speak. You just nodded back.

Joel’s motions grew stronger, and with every stroke inside you, his cock hit something plush and sweet. You had to bite your lip to keep the sounds from coming out too loud, but the effort was almost wholly in vain. The harder he went, the more your throat came to betray you. The more Joel seemed keen on getting you to speak.

“Feels like she does, hon,” he said, tone dulcet and low, “Pussy’s been squeezin’ like she needed daddy here.”

That was true. Your heels dug deeper in his ass, and you felt something tender swell up inside, almost painfully.

Joel was moving your whole frame with the weight of his thrusts—your body bouncing beneath him, the bed creaking under the force, your old childhood room being filled with the sounds of your blooming pleasure and his. Your cunt stretched even more; it begged to be fucked deeper. Though your mouth couldn’t form the words, it seemed Joel was more than able to make out the rest.

He brought his thumb to your clit. He rubbed it, then caught your lips in a hot, steady kiss when a whimper from yours was just about to threaten to tremble out.

“Atta girl,” he grunted against your mouth, “That’s it.”

His hips worked faster. His thumb moved with even more precision, more persistence, as though begging your pleasure to come. You could feel the sweat bead on your skin and his; your bodies seemed to blend together. Your legs tightened around his sides, and while he fucked you and kissed you more fervidly then, you could feel your resolve start to slip. You broke from the kiss, panting.

“I can feel her, honey. Keep goin’,” Joel urged.

You weren’t sure if you could. It felt good.

It felt safe. You hadn’t felt that in a while.

Or maybe just since you’d been away.

You thought of the last, vulnerable state you’d been forced to endure—feeling hurt and betrayed after Joel had lied trying to keep you ‘safe’—and your body tensed. You held tighter, but you also couldn’t lose that feeling completely. You were so close, and there was still something else you couldn’t yet define, or explain.

“Cum for me, baby,” Joel kissed the side of your mouth, knowing the feeling coursing through your body too well, “Take what you need. Just let her feel good. It’s all okay.”

All okay.

Your walls fluttered again; your moans grew breathy and faint as Joel’s cock wedged deeper and deeper and his kisses grew softer along your face. It was evident you were there—you knew you were there—but then, the way you felt was like no place you’d ever experienced before.

You wanted to tell him something.

You met Joel’s gaze, and you almost did. Then he withdrew and fucked back in, and all words were lost.

The headboard thumped against the wall; you didn’t hear it. Joel’s one free hand was cradling your cheek, and his face drew closer, and right when you sensed the man was about to drop another kiss, you felt release, at last.

A snap.

A dizzying blow.

Your climax struck with all the force of a seismic wave, and, at the same time, you could feel Joel groaning, pulsing, spurting thick ropes of cum into rubber while his gaze stayed locked on yours and your body came apart. The look from him was sickeningly soft, even at his peak.

Intimate, again.

You couldn’t help it.

With your legs trembling, cunt spasming, and eyes still plastered to Joel’s, you felt that something resurface. This time, you didn’t have a hope of keeping it inside.

“I— I— I love you, Joel. I love you,” you stuttered out.

Your voice was tight. Your eyes burned with tears you hadn’t even sensed might threaten to appear with it.

You broke down and felt the sudden urge to sob.

And, just as quickly as you did, you shoved him off.

Regret flooded your chest. You shouldn’t have said that.

Joel was slow to move, no matter how much you tried getting him away. He was still in your bed, crowding your space—and worse yet, he was staring at you, eyes wide.

“Baby—”

“Don’t.” Your gaze was still wider. Wild. And remorseful, “I didn’t— I’m sorry, I just— I didn’t mean to say that.”

Joel had pulled out, but he was still between your legs. You slid backward in the bed, cheeks flaming with heat.

He followed.

He reached out.

“Please don’t,” you begged, shaking your head before his touch could find you. Your pulse thundered in your skull.

The sound almost drowned all other noises out.

At the next, you wished it would deafen you completely.

“I love you, too, baby,” Joel said.

No sooner had his palms come to rest on your face when you were shoving them away. Standing up from the bed.

“You don’t mean that. I didn’t mean it. Just— just stop.”

“I—”

“Need to go.”

You hardly realized it, but you were pointing to the door.

Joel was just getting the condom off, about to stand up from where he was, when a new sound startled you both.

The garage door was closing. Tommy shouted your name saying he needed help bringing something in, and for a second, you both froze. It was happening all over again.

You knew you couldn’t risk getting caught another time. Not with your father in the house, unconscious or not. Silently, you thanked your lucky stars for the opportunity afforded by this moment—getting Joel out—and bent to grab his clothes off the floor and throw them, one by one. He dressed, albeit reluctantly. He opened his mouth to speak again, but you were busy racing to throw on your own clothes, thinking of ways to get him out unnoticed. You heard the door to the garage slam shut downstairs.

“He’s gonna be back any minute. You need to go, Joel.”

“Come with me. We have to talk—”

“I have nothing else to say.”

“But you—”

“I lied. And so did you. Just like before,” you gritted out, “You can spare my feelings—I didn’t fucking mean it.”

He felt bad, that was all. You could see it in his eyes.

The pity, the self-loathing, the guilt; it was all there.

The sight made your stomach turn, and though your legs weren’t steady or sure underneath you in the slightest, you knew you had to go. If Joel didn’t intend on making things easier, you would have to leave first. You felt him reach for you, saw the plea in his eyes and knew how wrong this really was—that you had both fucked up—and couldn’t stay there. Again, you wrenched yourself away.

You didn’t give him the chance to protest. You heard words, dimly, but barely had the sense or self-possession to process one syllable of it, so you left. You bounded down steps, pulse hammering even louder than before, and you didn’t think to turn around or let Joel follow or even remotely allow yourself to stop feeling embarrassed

Leaving was for the best anyway.

If Joel had lied once, he’d lie again.

Downstairs, you cleaned. You folded laundry.

Joel had snuck out a while ago, having slipped from your room, down to the kitchen, and out the back door while Tommy was busy retrieving beer out of the garage. You’d gone down there to distract the younger Miller brother while Joel packed his shit up and left. Like he was meant to do. Luckily, Joel’s departure was quiet, and Tommy was all too happy to have some help toting cases of Budweiser inside. Your dad and Tess were still fast asleep

And now, nearly half an hour later, you had only to sweep the hardwood floor, fold your clothes, and busy yourself as best you could—or else grit your teeth so hard you could’ve broken your jaw. You were so fucking dumb.

“Almost done?” Tommy poked his head inside the room.

You’d told Joel you hated him last month. One measly fuck and you’re spewing, ‘I love you’? What the fuck?

“Just about,” you replied, dropping an old shirt of your dad’s into the nearest, neatest pile, “You heading out?”

Tommy jingled his car keys in his hand and hummed to say that he was. He had a happy, Alabama-just-beat-the-shit-out-of-Tennessee smile on his face as he stood there

“Yeah, I’m going back to Mando’s now to celebrate and watch another game. Was wondering if you wanted to come along,” he said, leaning against the door frame.

“I would, I’ve just got so much shit to do around here—” Gesturing indistinctly to the mountains of clothing stacked high all about the laundry room, “—cleaning.”

Beating yourself over the head, mentally, for ever telling his older brother that you liked him in the first place. Wishing you could crawl in a hole and wallow alone.

“Aww, that can wait. You’re here the whole week—”

“I know. But I gotta keep an eye on my old man, too.”

You rubbed at your face and pretended to get re-invested in a pair of socks with two gaping holes. Your father wouldn’t discard old, ratty clothes to save his life.

Then Tommy was at your side. Pressing against the washing machine and watching you work. Smirking.

“By ‘your old man’ do you mean your dad…or Joel?”

For the second time that day, you almost choked. You tried not to let it show but were sure you failed miserably.

“I— I— what?” you huffed, all terse, feigned incredulity.

“Don’t play stupid. Only suits my dumbass brother,” Tommy returned coolly, turning to face you head-on, “You sound just like him whenever I ask about you.”

“Whatever he’s said—” you started again.

“I heard his truck hightailing it out of here while you came down to distract me. Heard his footsteps, too.”

While your cheeks warmed, Tommy’s smile only grew.

“Aaaaand the headboard was bangin’ pretty loud—”

“Alright!” You threw your hands up, “Fine. OK. Enough.”

Your surrender was fast, far too grossed out to fight it.

You closed your eyes and wanted to die. From next to you, you could hear Tommy’s amusement morph into laughter. It didn’t take much to wring the truth out of you, and for a man who knew you as well as he did, there was really no telling where this would end. Once Tommy Miller called bullshit, there was rarely ever room to argue.

The last time that had happened, he’d sent you and Joel packing to abstinence camp and had never looked back.

Why he was finding humor in this now was beyond you.

You dropped the socks you were holding. You shot him a look as if to ask him just that, and the man shrugged.

“I know y’all skipped out on camp. Could’ve guessed there was some sort of fight between you two after that, because I’ve never seen Joel so goddamn grumpy for—”

“Yeah, well,” you cut in, not wanting to hear the rest, “That’s over now. Seriously. Today was just a fluke.”

Before he could even try to voice his disbelief, you added:

“Just don’t tell my dad about this. Please.”

By the look in his eyes, you could tell that was probably the furthest thing from his mind, but you asked it all the same. Tommy scoffed, and then he shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest like he couldn’t believe a word you were saying now. Like a smug big brother who didn’t know how else to say that you made a terrible liar.

Because that was what he’d been to you before you ever got with Joel in the first place: a good, no-bullshit friend. The recognition of this made you feel even worse inside.

“I’m sorry,” Tommy said at length, much to your surprise.

His arms constricted even tighter against his chest and his eyes scanned yours thoughtfully before continuing.

“I shouldn’t have stuck my nose in y’all’s business. What you and Joel do is up to you—I just hated the thought of things, uh…going south. Making it weird between you.”

“Like now,” you said quietly.

A beat.

Tommy scratched his neck.

“Yeah, a little like that,” he replied, breathing out a laugh, “But that’s alright. Joel’s my brother, and I love him, but the man can’t navigate a relationship to save his life. Much less with a girl your age. So just…keep that in mind. I don’t wanna see either of you getting hurt.”

In other words: don’t be stupid and get attached.

‘You’re right,’ was all you knew to say. All you felt capable of telling him now, after what had come to pass that day.

Frankly, you didn’t need to speak another word to get the gist of what he meant, and like he’d said, it wasn’t on him to dictate how you handled things with Joel. The message was clear enough, and the truth was all there.

You couldn’t make this work.

Joel wouldn’t make this work with a girl as young as you.

He’d only said what he said today out of habit—a knee-jerk reaction. He didn’t know what the fuck else to say when his best friend’s kid he’d been banging spilled out ‘I love you.’ And you didn’t blame him for it. But you also couldn’t expect him to be something he wasn’t when all this was ever supposed to be was a casual fuck here and there. You’d been confused and needing to feel safe. He had wanted access to something he shouldn’t have, and now that the thrill of that was wearing off, he felt trapped and cornered into saying what he had, for your sake. The best thing for the two of you now was a clean break, before any more feelings got muddled and misspoken and brought to anything worse than they already were.

It would suck for a while. You knew it would. The next second had you leaning in unconsciously, watching Tommy uncross his arms and pull you in for a hug.

This would really suck.

You buried your face in his chest.

There wasn’t much to say; still, Tommy said it best:

“Whatever happens, you’ll be fine. I know you will.”

[prettycottagequeer]

ok maybe I'm a little late to this BUT I'm gonna do a to-do list motivation thingy because I've had the worst two weeks since I started college :)

SO these I should start on asap:

50 I make the snack I really want but I haven't had the motivation to make

100 I clean my dorm. another thing I've been meaning to do for a week

150 I do the presentation about mid-victorian fashion I've been putting off (due Monday)

200 I start memorizing the monologue that was due a week ago (now due Tuesday)

these can wait longer:

300 I spend time outside. It's so nice but I'm getting stuck scrolling because I feel like shit. vicious cycle ect

500 I start setting a better weekend routine (aka getting up before noon)

1k I start working out again. I was doing a routine to get more masc and build muscle and I liked it but life hit me like Crowley driving the Bentley and I've missed like 3 weeks

2k I buy my first binder. I've been coping with sports bras for almost a year now and I haven't been able to justify spending $50+ on a binder even though I know I'd love it and use it everyday.

Do I tag people? I don't know but I'm going to. @the-globe-theatre-maggot @weirdly-specific-but-ok @howmanyholesinswisscheese

here's just some context if you want to read, feel free to skip. some of this I've talked about in the maggot server, some I haven't, but I really just need a place for this to go that's out of my head. tw homophobia, transphobia, car crash(??)

How I Have Been Run Over By The Bentley Going 90 In Central London What Feels Like 50 Times In The Last Two Weeks

I'm going to college about 4 hours away from my parents, and it's been really nice. They.. suck, to say the least. transphobic/homophobic ect, super traditional conservative catholic, racist, all of it. so i tried to move somewhere where I wouldn't have to think about them and I could be myself and do what I can to be happy. March 1st was the start of my spring break, which meant going home because the dorms close. I was already not excited, but I was prepared. the problem with being away from home is I forget just how bad they are. My optimism gets the better of me and I think maybe this time they'll be better. so I decided to not hide my septum piercing.

that was a mistake. it starts a whole fight where they say we know you're trans, you're actually a girl and you always will be, we have the bones argument, they think I'm being influenced by demons or something (if only they knew about crowley) because I want to change my name, and they tell me that going on t will completely ruin my body and give me cancer and other things. They're also mad about my dyed hair, septum, and general style, and say I'm setting a terrible example for my (5) younger siblings and make it a point to tell me just how much of a disappointment I am. I think I'm pretty cute and fun but y'know, whatever. very fun time. I lie so much, don't give them any more details about my identity, and say I'm not planning to go on t to save my ass. which is all on instinct which makes me feel worse because if I'm really trans I should be able to stand up for that, right? maybe I'm faking the dysphoria.

the next morning I wake up really sick, and spend the rest of the week sick and feeling like shit because I'm home and back in the same place and situation I was a year ago that I thought I escaped. at one point I pretty much lose my voice but also kind of get gender euphoria from it. it's weird.

On Friday it's time for me to drive back 4 hours to school, and I make it about 3/4 of the way when google maps takes me on a random gravel road and I crash my car, really crash my car, like sideways-in-a-ditch-windows-broken-crawling-up-out-the-door crash it in the middle of nowhere. (I was fully paying attention to the road, it was raining and super slick) I call my parents because I have no one else to call and I sit in a Subway for 3 hours while they drive to get my car. when they get there they're (understandably) really mad, and they tell me that I'm not mature enough to be going to school so far away and I need to get my shit together and stop depending on them. which. is probably true. but made me feel even more stupid about the fact that I crashed my car. I get back to school and I'm still Very Sick with no energy or motivation to do anything. So I've spent the last week trying to get better and honestly to do anything. it hasn't really worked. I'm a lot better health-wise (Not emotionally), still sick but I have a lot of work due, so I really need a push to get started

[tojikai]

SUNDERED

Pairing: Gojo x reader

• Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Alt. Ending

Sundered+ (COMMISSION)

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments

word count: 3.2k

One woman’s life lesson is another woman’s better man.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo intentionally runs into you when you’re buying groceries just to show you his girlfriend. The woman was your classmate from high school. At the first meeting, she was shy and tried avoiding your gaze but Satoru just had to call you and ask something about your daughter. Completely unnecessary but he’s just that much of a jerk. Once was considered an accident. But when it happened two, then three times, you already know that you have to change your shopping schedule.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo picks up his daughter from your house an hour late, rubbing on your face that he overslept because he spent “some time” with his girlfriend last night. Distasteful and disrespectful, but you let it slide cause he seems happy. You don’t want to be a killjoy, right? You were never his girlfriend, to begin with. Just someone he got pregnant from a one-night stand. 

❧ babydaddy!Gojo posts pictures of his day out with his daughter online. His girlfriend carrying your kid as the three of them wear matching Mickey and Minnie Mouse headbands. You could only scroll past and continue your work to busy yourself. Maybe you should stop lurking around social media and just use your phone for important messages. Maybe you should also lose feelings for someone who never harbored genuine ones for you in the first place.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo always lets his girlfriend open the door for you when you’re picking up your daughter from his house on weekends. He leans back on the couch, watching you grab your daughter’s things, opening his arms to cuddle with his girlfriend before you even get to walk out the door. It made you feel pathetic and small but what can you do? There’s simply no place for you in that house.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo insists that you spend more time together for the sake of your daughter. You agreed to it and now, you had to sit in the back of the car with your daughter as he drives his girlfriend to work. It made you feel sick and nauseous that you were only able to spend half a day with them before you decided to go home and sleep the day away. Maybe when you wake up, you’ll find it in you to hate him.

“Mommy? Call her, love.” Gojo used a higher voice to encourage his daughter to call you. He knows that he was foul for what happened earlier. But what is he gonna do? He can’t reject his girlfriend’s request, plus it was only a ride. It’s not like she was with you for the whole day. Still, he doesn’t think it’s the reason why you left early. You might be feeling…tired. Even if it was Saturday yesterday and you have no work. You might still feel fatigued on Sunday, right?

“Mama!” The little girl mimicked pointing upstairs. Satoru sighed placing her little bag on a nearby chair as he made his way upstairs. He figured that if you’re still asleep, he could just wait for you to wake up and just look after his daughter here. You’re a single mother for 4 days a week, and on top of that, you also have work. You literally don’t have time to rest. He told himself that he needs to stop messing around just to get a reaction from you. 

Reaching your room, Satoru knocked on the door three times, calling out your name when you didn’t answer. “Wait a second.” You voiced out from the other side, “I’m just gonna call my mom, can you wait for her?” You suppressed a cough at the end of the sentence but it didn’t go unnoticed by Satoru. “Are you sick? I could take her back to my house, we’ll look after her until you feel better. ” The suggestion made your stomach churn. They get to play house with your kid and here you are, being miserable.

You shook your head, realizing how bitter you sounded. She wasn’t unkind in any way to your baby but something in you hurts when you think of them giving your daughter the family experience that you cannot provide. You and Satoru tried to work things out but you just can’t get on the same page. Instead of trying to be better for you and your daughter, he decided to fuck around and date someone else instead. 

You wouldn’t say that your name was clean. What with a couple of threats such as finding someone who could act right. You just didn’t think that he’d really leave. It hurt but now you’re getting yourself used to the feeling. Maybe he just couldn’t act right with you. Because why is he so good with his girlfriend now? She tamed him, as he once boasted to you during a fight.

“I’m stuck with a child that I have with you, but not with you.” He pointed out, leaving a searing pain in your chest. “There’s no way I’m letting that happen.” Tears were starting to form in your eyes as the words come out of his mouth. How could he say something so cruel to you, the mother of his child? All you did was tell him that his girlfriend was getting kind of too much after she told you what to do with your child. And now he’s making you the villain.

“I just told her that—” You tried to explain, voice starting to shake. “If that’s all you did, she wouldn’t come to me crying, Y/N.” You just can’t believe that you’re fighting over this. You already have so much to think about and now this, you also have to be cautious about his girl. “She told you herself, I just didn’t want her telling me how to raise my child!” 

“Of course, she wouldn’t tell me that you’re being harsh to her. Unlike you, she’s actually kind and considerate of other people’s feelings.” You looked down, letting out a strangled sob escape your throat before quickly wiping away the forming tears in your eyes as you turn away from him. Why was he never this defensive of you? He didn’t even try to fight for you when his girlfriend convinced him to take your daughter with them on a trip. Without your permission.

And now he’s talking as if you’ve been nothing but a disturbance in his relationship with her. Everything's just unfair. Yet, you just let it slide because you wanted nothing but peace for your baby. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you anymore, Satoru. You’ve said enough.” You sniffed, walking to your daughter’s room to check if the noises woke her up. Satoru was left standing there, processing all the things that he said.

He watched you disappear into the dark hallway of your apartment, shoulders shaking with your head hung low. Even if he can’t see your face, he can tell that you’re crying and it made him feel like shit. He went overboard, didn’t he? “Fuck.” He threw his keys on the couch, running his fingers through his hair. He wanted to apologize but at the same time, he wanted to prove his point. His girlfriend was only trying to help and you took it the wrong way.

At that time, Satoru thought that maybe she was right. You’re just getting kinda jealous that she could spend time with your daughter and Satoru more and now you’re being too sensitive, letting out your irritation on her. She said that it was a natural feeling for a mother to feel that way but Satoru can’t let you treat his girlfriend like shit just because of your pettiness and jealousy. You have to learn to adjust and accept that some things are gonna be the way they are because of your setup. 

As for you, you felt hurt. Neglected even when you know that you’re not supposed to receive as much attention, much less protection from him. His priority is your child, but not you. You have no choice but to talk and work everything out with them for the sake of your daughter. You know that you could start dating someone of your choice but you wished that it would be that easy. You just want to focus on your daughter and if you’re gonna find someone, you want them to love her as much as you do. 

You wonder what you lacked that couldn’t soften him the way he did to her. You started to think that you’re the problem and that is why you couldn’t fix him as easily as she did. 

You stood up, opening the door for him seeing your two-year-old reach out to you. “Mama’s sick, love, sorry.” You covered your mouth, blinking away the heaviness in your eyes. Satoru watched you pack your daughter’s things. “If you’re gonna be busy, just tell me. I’ll just contact Mom. She can be with you for a few days, just until my cold is gone.” You murmured, counting the diapers to put in her baby bag. 

You don’t want to be away from her, but letting her stay with you when you’re like this puts her at risk and that’s the last thing you want. You can’t stand seeing your daughter through pain and you’re pretty sure it’s the same for his dad. Begrudgingly, you placed the bag in front of Satoru before reaching over for her favorite toy. You smiled at how she squealed when she saw it.

“You know we’re never too busy to take care of her. Just rest, so you’ll get better soon.” You swallowed, nodding your head slowly as you thought of what else they should take. “Yeah, I’ll be picking her up.” You kept your distance from her, sitting down as you felt your head spinning a bit. “Do you...do you have medicine, though? I could get some if you want,” Satoru can tell that you’re really sick and despite his situation with you, he can’t just let you be when you’re like this. You’re still the mother of his child. 

“No, it’s fine. I have some here. Just take care of her.” Your voice was hoarse and your daughter was starting to reach out for you again as if sensing that something was wrong so you urged Satoru to get going. “Be good, okay?” You waved as she watched you with her curious eyes but waved back, nonetheless. You wouldn’t admit it but you feel envious that they could be happy together with her. You’re afraid that one day she’ll prefer being with them over you.

As for your feelings for Satoru, you hated thinking or talking about it. You’re obviously in love with him, but you wouldn’t acknowledge that yourself, either. You fought too much, you hurt each other too much. Other than that, there’s no point for your feelings now that he has someone he really loves and truly cares about. 

You never experienced the boyfriend-girlfriend stage with Satoru. It’s like one day, you just woke up and you’re already parents. You can’t blame him for not having real feelings for you. You do your best to be as civil to them as you can be but sometimes his girlfriend’s just out of bounds. And after a couple of painful fights with Satoru regarding her, it just became too much for you. 

You’re just tired of feeling like a wedge to someone’s healthy relationship. That’s how Satoru makes you feel and you just can’t take any ache from that. 

Another thing that you deny to yourself is the hope that you might fix this all. There are always what-ifs in your mind, and you would never tell Satoru about them. He’ll probably laugh at you and your threats that you’re gonna be with someone who truly makes you happy. You would never destroy his relationship just because yours didn’t work. If you have to cover your eyes, look away and pretend to be deaf every time they’re around you, you would. 

You often think about what it would be like if he settled down with his girl; if they decided to get married and have a family of their own. You don’t want your daughter to feel left out. You don’t want her to feel like she doesn’t have her own family in the middle of them. You also wondered if you’d have moved on by then. You hope so. You don’t want to be this pitiful and heartbroken forever.

------------------------------

After a couple of days, you’re finally feeling well. You got up early and sent Satoru a text that you’ll be picking up your baby in a few hours. You missed her and her giggles so much. The house was clean during the past days but you very much prefer it to be messy, as long a she’s there. You’ll never mind getting up in the middle of the night or waking up extra early for her. 

Arriving at Satoru’s residence, you rang the doorbell as you waited patiently for someone to open the gate for you. You were hoping that it would be your baby girl, extending her short, chubby arms to you but instead, it was Satoru’s girlfriend. “Come in, she’s still playing inside.” She smiled at you, opening the metal door wider. “Thanks, I messaged Satoru that I was coming to pick her up. Is she ready?” You asked her as you walked to their front door.

“She is, but she’s kinda fussy about it. Satoru bought her a huge playpen and she just wouldn’t get out of it. She’s enjoying a lot.” She tucked a hair behind her ear and you can’t help but feel conscious of how you look. Opening the door, you were welcomed by the sight of Satoru lying down with his daughter in the said enclosure. She was fiddling with a toy as they watched on the big screen. 

Her favorite toy was at the corner, and for some reason, it left a pang in your chest.

“Sweetie, someone’s here for you.” You hated the way she phrased it but you know that she doesn’t mean for it to be offensive or rude to you. The little girl looked up with her binky in her mouth, blinking before smiling at you. “Oh, you’re already here. She wouldn’t let me out of the playpen.” Satoru explained, probably thinking that you didn’t appreciate that it had to be his girlfriend opening the door for you. 

“It’s alright. I don’t mind.” This place always made you feel like you’re an outsider. Probably because you are and it didn’t help that they’re making you feel like it. “Mama!” She waved at you, pointing at the screen as she sat down. “That’s a nice show, love. Maybe we could just continue watching it at home?” You know that she doesn’t have a big playpen there. The screen isn’t that big, either. She suddenly lied back down, whimpering as she kicked her tiny feet. You felt like telling her that you’d work hard to buy her that too.

She doesn’t want to go home yet and that’s what you feared. 

“Baby, mom’s here. She missed you.” Satoru called out but to no avail. He came to lift her up, trying to see if she was just being too lazy to get up. Her eyes were glued to the television as she sucked on her pacifier. She was too into it, pointing the show to everyone before smiling at you. Oh, how you missed that smile. “Let’s go, now.” You cooed at her, softly clapping your hands.

When you tried to reach for her as Satoru leans her close to you, she started wiggling around. “Down, Mama! Wait.” Her cute language never ceases to make your heart swell with joy despite the fact that she’s trying to get away from you. She runs away, stopping to look around before going to Satoru’s girlfriend and hugging her leg. She was in awe when she picked up your daughter. 

So… she’s who your daughter’s referring to by…Mama. You could almost hear your heart shatter at the realization. Since when did she start calling her Mama?

“You don’t wanna go home yet? But Mom’s here.” She talked in her baby voice and you don’t know if you’re gonna be happy that she treats your daughter really well or jealous that she came running to her when she don’t want to do something. Satoru went up to them, leaving you standing a few meters away. You don’t like what you’re seeing aside from your daughter.

“It’s not good to ignore Mama.” Satoru tapped her nose with his finger which she cutely swatted away, eliciting a chuckle from him. “Y/N, I was thinking… maybe I could just, uh, take her home later in the day. This playpen just arrived yesterday and you know how kids are…” He laughed nervously, struggling to find a nice way to say that your daughter won’t be coming home yet.

“Yesterday, I was joking about giving her playmates and she was so excited, she was running around.” His girlfriend giggled as she shared. It was a simple story yet it was a thorn to your heart. Why does it seem like your every nightmare is coming to life? You just smiled at her, understanding that she was talking about giving your daughter siblings. Satoru was silent, but you didn’t dare look at his face. You know that it’s in their future plans and you don’t have to see him smiling about it too. 

“That’s adorable..” You don’t know what else to say, so you just nodded your head slowly, blinking quickly so as to bring yourself back to reality. His place was huge compared to your apartment. The playpen looks so much more comfortable than the crib she has at your place. She has new toys and a mom and dad by her side. So, now she doesn’t want to leave. Suddenly, you can feel the weakness in your knees from when you were sick starting to come back. You cleared your throat as you straightened yourself.

“J-just take her home later. I, uh, bought something for her.” You lied, knowing that you still have to go looking for something you can buy for your lovely child. You wanted to snatch her away from Satoru’s girlfriend, her other mom, but the giggle flowing out of her lips are too precious for you to ruin; the smile on her face as she tickled her tummy was too priceless. Look at them, you told yourself as you started to feel farther and farther away from their little world. They’re a picture of a happy family. 

“I’ll see you later, honey…” You whispered, giving her head a pat as she looked up at you with her big, cerulean eyes. You didn’t wait for any of them to walk you out, you just let your feet take you out of their home, not daring to look back for the fear of breaking down. Your fingers tremble along with your lips and the tiny droplets of rain felt like acid on your skin. Maybe what they say was true. We experience people differently.

One woman’s life lesson is another woman’s better man.

NEXT

[lizardho]

I think the worst day I had as a missionary is hard to pin down – for comedy bad day stories, I like to talk about my cute companion who ripped three pairs of pants in one day because his ass was so fat. Literally, two in the morning, we missed 3 appointments in the afternoon because people kept cancelling on us, and we ended up far away from home visiting “Less Actives” in the downtown area. We find a family who says we can come in once their dad get home, and we sit down to wait for the dad to get in and RIIIPPP goes the third pair of slacks this man wore that day. I hand him my suit jacket and he wraps it around his waist like a bashful adolescent who just started his period at an inconvenient time. We catch a ride home on a bus and ended up home an hour early. He cried for like 30 minutes while stitching up his pants, and I got to rest a lot more than expected that day. We ordered a 4-cheese pizza and went to bed early that night, having walked probably 5-6 miles that day knocking doors and getting turned away.

Another bad day was the day the Mexico City Temple was re-opening. It was a funny experience for me because the evening before I was contacted by the Mission President and told that an elder in our district had confessed some serious sins to him and that those sins precluded him from going to the temple. The MP told me that nobody in this elder’s ward could get time off to babysit him so he was begging one of us – I didn’t want to go to the temple, it was a crappy way to spend a P-Day in my opinion, so I told the MP I’d do it. I spent the day eating popsicles and napping with an elder who, in between Bolis and naps, would shakily and tearfully confess that no fewer than half of his companions had secret phones they used to watch porn, hire prostitutes, and buy drugs. This was bewildering to me since I had been Trying So Hard my whole mission and had always felt inadequate, and these elders who were doing better than me and more respected than me were somehow out here fucking, doing drugs, and jorkin’ it.

I was actually in a “Punishment Area” at the time because in my last area one of my life-threateningly attractive companions had gone into the homes of widows to repair their electrical wirings (he was a trained electrician prior to going on a mission.) Being alone in the home of an 80-year-old widow with failing lights was “against the rules” to the extent that me mandaron a la goma, and some handful of guys I’d been told to view as role models were out here breaking actual laws and shit. Of course, I knew in my heart of hearts that I was in this area because of the Deep Evil that Lay Within My Heart (wanting to kiss Elder Electrician on his stupid himbo lips) but my MP could not have known that, just like he didn’t know that the guys he was making Zone Leaders were getting their dicks sucked and snorting cocaine. That honestly felt outrageous to me.

I feel like the stereotypical “worst day” of a mission is the last day – they take you to the airport in a big van, all melancholy and nostalgic. We sang on our drive to the airport – elders and sisters tearfully sang or hummed hymns together. I was deadpan the whole time, it was such a relief to be going home. For me the worst part of the day was the relief – the release of pressure. The pressure to perform, to be “on,” to be at your best, is omnipresent for elders. I was the only person flying to Phoenix, so for the first time in two years I felt a release from that pressure. Nobody was scrutinizing me, I no longer felt that every thought, action, and feeling was being evaluated and judged as a sign of my true character. It was hard to realize, a the pressure let up, that I had been holding all that weight for two years without knowing when it had started. I remember getting confused in Customs and needing someone who spoke Spanish to talk to me because I kept forgetting words in English. I remember getting home and my family waiting for me and feeling like it was all finally done, finally over, I could finally breath. It didn’t feel bad, but it did feel heavy. And it definitely was not the worst day of my mission.

The actual worst day of my mission, though, was about 5 months in. At the 6-month mark I was expected to make a long trip down to an area of town near La Basilica de Guadalupe to submit my visa paperwork, and the mission office had sent me an extra $500 MX to use for transportation costs. When I withdrew the money they had sent for the month, I noticed it was higher than expected. My companion, a senior companion and district leader, had the cell phone. He was talking to another elder while he waited for me to withdraw my monthly deposit. I approached and asked if I could use the cell phone to call the mission office, as I had questions. He said “no,” and ignored me. I waited until the conversation ended and asked again, and again, angrily, he said, “No.” I said “Elder, relax, I just need to call the mission office to see why they sent me more this month than usual.” His face turned red as he realized other elders were watching the exchange occur. He handed me the phone, I called and was told the money was for transportation costs, and laughingly returned the phone to my companion. He took it, told the other elders he needed to tie his shoe but they could head on over to the District Meeting, and waited until they were out of eyesight. Once that was done, he grabbed me hard by the wrist, dragged me into a hidden corner out of earshot from others, and said, “If you ever disrespect me or my authority again I swear to God I will kill you.”

I was actually shocked. This guy had spent the last month and a half being SUPER nice to me, so I thought he was kidding and I was just confused. I laughed and said “Haha, yeah, your authority over the cell phone is sacred,” and tried to walk away but he didn’t let go of my wrist. He pulled me back and said “I will literally slit your throat if you ever talk to me like that again. As senior companion my authority over YOU is sacred, and I will not let God be mocked by you.”

I realized that he was serious. Like, actually threatening-my-life serious. I could see it in his eyes, I could feel it in the way he squeezed tighter on my wrist. In actuality, the idea seems laughable now. The guy was absolutely chickenshit. He cried if his shits were too hard, he couldn’t end a human life, but I still didn’t let myself fall asleep first for the rest of our time together. And I still hid the two knives we had in a different area while he was showering the next morning.

If I’m being honest though, even that wasn’t the worst day of my mission. That was bad, and each subsequent time he told me he was going to cut my throat for minor infractions against his God-Given Authority Over Me (like not wearing a belt for morning scripture study, or not taking the path he thought was best to get to a lesson) was a bad day. Every P-Day where he read my emails over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t telling my parents about how he was treating me, every day he told me that the ward members would never believe me over him, every day he put me down in front of other elders and they laughed in agreement, every day he was in a bad mood and took it out on me was a bad day. But the worst day was the day I told the mission president about it. I told him about the threats to my life, his temper, his physical abuse, hiss manipulation and rule-breaking, and the mission president told me “The time to tell me this was 6 months ago. The time to forgive him and focus on your own failings is now.”

I don’t think I’ve ever felt as confused or betrayed as I did then. Like, man oh man, that was a rough thing to hear, but as the day went on I kept feeling more and more confused and scared – had I misinterpreted everything? Had I miscommunicated something in telling the story? Had I not been objective enough in recounting the threats against my life? Was it true that a senior companion actually had the authority to hurt me if I went against his authority? Was I wrong the whole time? I had no idea, to be honest, but it was bewildering.

Knowing now what I wish I had known then, I would have done things differently. But in the moment, on a mission, knowing that my biggest reason for going on a mission was the hope that the Spirit of God, which hymns told me burns like fire, would burn the faggot out of my heart. I think I felt like I deserved it. Like somehow that elder knew the evil I was hiding and felt compelled by God’s power to hurt me. I think that’s what made it so hard to defend myself in the moment – I did not have that problem with other elders. The companion who told me we were gonna wrestle to settle an argument lost three consecutive matches and pouted about it for like a week. The elder who threatened to punch me for making a joke at his expense got knocked on his ass just for raising his fist. But this elder got into my head first, and that made it hard to fight against it. Instead of fighting against it, I just silently lived with actual, verifiable, diagnosed, by-the-book, DSM-5-TR Posttraumatic Stress Disorder because I thought I deserved it. It took consistent supervision of my clinical work revealing countertransference with Male LDS clients (I consistently discussed addressing shame in a client’s presentation where no shame or discomfort had been reported), an awkward conversation with @inbabylontheywept after an even more awkward dinner with a cousin who vaguely reminds me of that companion, and a bad acid trip where I had visceral flashbacks to my mission, before I was able to realize that I was living with a pain that was as abnormal as it was unnecessary.

Even once I realized it, even once I got help, it was hard. I remember telling jokes about what happened to my therapist and seeing her jaw just…drop. She said she didn’t know it had been that dangerous for me. The session ended and he sent me the PCL-5 (a good, evidence-based, highly face-valid measure for PTSD) and some other measure for dissociative symptoms and I was like “Girl, I just took this class, I know what you’re trying to measure and this ain’t it.” I reported my symptoms accurately and was fully prepped to confront her the next session. She showed me my scores and the norms used, and I was like “Oh fuck, this looks really bad on paper,” and she was like “Yeah, I can’t imagine living like this” and I just sobbed for most of that session. We ended up doing 9 months of TF-CBT and ACT (largely because I am a terrible and uncooperative patient, realistically I think I could have been done in like 5-6 months if I wasn’t so stubborn) before I was discharged from treatment successfully.

The thing that was so weird about starting therapy for PTSD was that it made things feel worse for a while. I started taking edibles a lot more. I started behaving differently around family members and Mormons. I started being outright hostile to elders I could see. It took about 3 months before I could see the missionaries and not have an actual fight-or-flight response to their presence. I think the way I had made it a far as I did without getting treatment was by repressing the thoughts, feelings, and memories that made it all hurt, and a soon as I let them just be there it was like all the confusing aching hurt came back. The first few months of therapy were just spent expanding the amount of time I could feel that hurt before turning to other means (like dissociation, cannabis, repression, etc.) so I could actually address the experiences without crashing the rest of the day. It was hard. I know I ended several sessions sweating a LOT from the exertion it took to just let the feelings happen. By 6 months, however, I could go into a church building without blacking out from panic. By 9 months I could sit in the same room as elders without sweating and shaking like a chihuahua on Adderall. 3 months after therapy and me and my supervisors noticed that my work with Mormon men had improved substantially. 6 months after therapy and I was able to begin writing anonymous stories online. Now, about two years after completing therapy, I feel like I can talk about it without needing the cloak of anonymity, and that is empowering.

Again, I am not sure why I’m typing these stories out – they’re not fun to write, I don’t love that my family can find these posts, but I guess I just like to remind myself and others that it can always get better. That mind numbing platitude, the old thought-terminating cliché that “it gets better, just power through it” doesn’t give enough credit to how much it hurts to get through it, but it does get better. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. The triggers can go away with time, great effort, significant expense, and a lot of discomfort. The world can feel safe again, the hurt can feel bearable, that nagging worry that I might have deserved this, or that I did something wrong, can eventually go away too. It’s not easy to do it, and I have an incredible respect for the patients of mine who can pull it off, but it is undeniably as doable a it is difficult. If this story resonates with anyone, if it feels close-to-home, if these experiences feel shared, just know that the relief I talked about can feel shared too. Know that it’s worth it to get the help, that you deserve the help, that you deserve to live a life that doesn’t hurt you, that you deserve to be a full person and not a living prison for the pain and memories. Know that healing yourself does not involve extending forgiveness to Them, whoever They are. That the pain you felt will not be made less important by making the pain less potent. Know that taking care of yourself now is, in a way, taking care of yourself then. And Please, with a capital P, take care of yourselves.

Thank you to my family, especially my immediate family (special shout outs to @flowerologists and @inbabylontheywept) for the support and patience with me as I dealt with this.

Thank you to my therapist, Jordin Borques, who I recommend highly to anyone seeking trauma therapy in Arizona.

Thank you to my wife, @cintailed, for being the push that got me into therapy, and for taking care of me at my worst and still being here with me.

Thanks to my mission president for being such a colossal disappointment to Christianity that my departure from the church was inevitable.

And a general thanks to the queers for being so cute and making life worth living, even on bad days.

[wonnieluv]

Enhypen when they see you after you being apart for a long time

bf!Enhypen members x reader. warnings: none! just down bad enha boys missing the crap out of reader

Heeseung

Heeseung would envelope you in the most tightest. Not the kind where you’re gripping each other real tight but the kind of hug where you just feel so secure. Like not even the strongest wind could knock you out of his embrace

He’d kiss your forehead and just hold you for a solid few minutes as you just bathe in each other’s presence mumbling small I missed you’s and I love you’s into your ears as you inhale his scent. It’s such a healing moment and any pain, exhaustion or stress you had weighing on you didn’t seem to matter anymore because all that mattered was that you two were together

Jay

Jay would be counting down the days to being able to see you again. You two probably have one of those countdown’s on your lock screen or something. The moment you open the door for him when he knocks, you nearly tackle him over as he drops everything in his hands to hug you

Once you let go of each other, you walk in your door hand in hand. He sets his stuff down and you both immediately snuggle up on the couch maybe with a cup of wine or some tea. You rest your head on his chest as he tells you all about what him and the members have been up to and some of the exciting things they have coming up. You eventually turn on the TV and pop in some cheesy rom-com that you both love. There hasn’t been a more perfect moment. The two of you cozied up on your couch, he runs his hand through your hair as you listen to his heartbeat. Needless to say your both asleep in each others arms long before the movie ends.

Jake

Jake is all giddy. No one within his close circle doesn’t know you’re coming. He probably sits and tells Layla all about how excited he is to see you and all the things you’ll do when he goes to visit his parents. When you finally do arrive he runs up and bear hugs you with the brightest smile on his face. Like his cheeks are probably aching with how hard he’s smiling. As you walk to the car hand in hand, he drives you back with his hand not leaving yours once on the drive home and he doesn’t waste a single second in pulling you into his room and trapping you in a hug on his bed. He’s waited so long to hold you and now that he has the chance, he won’t be able to keep his hands to himself.

He’ll tell you about all the stuff he wants to do with you; the cafes he wants to visit, the late night walks with Layla, the places in Seoul he can’t wait to take you to. He’ll promise to take you to the HYBE building and show you around (maybe they’ll let you watch practice ;)). If you show more excitement to see another artist he may teasingly say that you can’t go anymore and he’ll be pouty and never leave your side if you guys actually go. The time you spend with Jake you’ll probably end up sleeping better than you ever have wrapped up in his arms

Sunghoon

Sunghoon may not immediately show it on his face, but he is so excited to see you. When he finally sees your face and sees you running towards him he’ll break out into the prettiest smile and immediately open his arms for you to run into. He’s probably trying to play it cool but in reality he’s trying not to combust from how happy he is. His giddiness immediately gets exposed the second he brings you around the members. ‘Hoon literally won’t shut up about you’ ‘y/n comes in a week, y/n comes in 4 days, y/n comes tomorrow, I see y/n in a coupon hours’ ‘I saw him kicking his feet and giggling when you guys texted last night’. Like they won’t let this poor man live.

When you guys get to be alone there may not be many words exchanged at first but you guys are just going about your business being more than content to be in each other’s presence. Whether he’s playing games, you’re doing your skincare, on your phones, cuddling in bed. Whatever y’all are doing there’s always a permanent smile on your face. But before you fall asleep you probably tease him a bit about how much the boys said he missed you just to seem him get all flustered.

Sunoo

You and Sunoo would FaceTime almost everyday when you were apart. You would be spilling tea, giving eachother updates on whatever has been going on (because he knows alllll of your friends and all of the gossip in your life), doing skincare together, or just exchanging quick words to each other to help cheer the other up.

When you finally are together again you immediately take over the bathroom for the most extensive home spa routine to ever exist. No one is interrupting and by the time you’re done, you’re going through your camera roll looking at all the goofy pics you took with your matching face masks and pajamas on and giggling to each other picking the perfect one that you can post on your story without showing his face. You guys put on the drama you agreed to watch together and spill any recent drama you’ve had yet to tell each other. Needless to say the entire evening is filled with soft giggles and sweet smiles shared between the two of you from the comfort of each others embrace in Sunoo’s room.

Jungwon

You know Jungwon is busy and he knows that you are as well so when you finally have the time to spend an evening at his place you had your bag packed a week in advance and made sure no one would get in the way. He gave you the code so you came to the dorm a bit early to surprise him when he got out of his schedule for that day. The second he walked through the door to see you in the living room his tense shoulders immediately relaxed and before you could even sit up to greet him he was laying on top of you. I’m not talking but ‘tackled into a hug on the couch’ type of thing, I’m talking the ‘there’s his body laying on top of you like a sack of potatos’ and he is not getting up.

When you finally do get him up you head of his room. After you convince him that you will in fact still be there when he’s done showering, he goes to wash up before catapulting himself into bed to lay on top of you again. You spend the next 30 minutes to an hour with his head on your chest combing your fingers through his hair as you exchange words about all the things you’ve been up to as you both slowly fade into unconsciousness holding each other. The next morning he will not let you go and you may have to get 2 of the members to pry him away from you when you have to go back home but it’s ok because you know that it won’t be long until you’ll be in each others arms again.

Ni-ki

Your texts with Riki mostly consist of daily updates and horrible memes exchanged between the two of you with some play fighting added to the mix. Even when you’re ‘arguing’ with each other he knows how to make you laugh and that does not change when you finally get to see him face to face again. He would probably pretend to not see you if you’re a lot smaller than he but when you start to get annoyed he pulls you into a hug and apologizes through his giggles.

The majority of the time you spend with each other consists of you two giggling over things you find on Twitter, taking silly goofy pictures of each other that you beg him to post on Weverse, him teasing you, you punching him for teasing you, him apologizing while laughing and the cycle repeats. By the time it gets to 1am you have settled in his room and he’s telling you goofy stories of things the members have done recently and you’re telling him about the things you’ve been up to recently with your friends (who he totally 100% remembers the names of) until the conversation fades as your breathing steadies and you both fall asleep with smiles on your faces. The rest of the time you’re staying with him consists of similar routines with maybe a late night run to the convenience store or some video games where Riki promises he’ll play fair but we all know he won’t with the biggest smile on his face.

[mymindcreatedthis]

Movie 18+

Reader x Alessia Russo

Warning: Smut, Smut, Smut!

Word count: 3.5k

*Y/n's Pov*

It was the beginning of the season for Arsenal. We were at training. We are on a water break right now, Katie smiles and walks over to me.

"Hey Y/n do you have any plans tonight?" Katie asks.

"No, I'm free tonight. Why?" I replied.

Katie smiles. "Cool I was gonna do a team bonding night at my house."

I smile and nod. "Yeah I'd be down for that."

Katie smiles and nods, Alessia makes her way over. Alessia smiles and rubs my arm with her finger.

"Hey you." Alessia says.

I smile and blush a bit as she traces my arm with her finger. "Hey beautiful." I say.

Alessia smiles at my comment. "Are you going to Katie's tonight?"

"Yeah are you going?" I ask.

Alessia smiles and nods. I've had a crush on Alessia for a long time. I've always found myself staring in her direction all the time at training, watching her bend over to pick up a ball right in front of me. Her perfect shaped ass teasing me, Alessia cutely giggles as she sees me blushing.

Alessia smiles and taps my butt. "Maybe we can spend some time together." She smiles and walks away.

We finish the water break and continue training. After another hour of training, training ends, I grab my things and drive home. It was 4:30 pm, we were supposed to be at Katie's house by 6 pm.

I toss my bag off to the side, I shower and get cleaned up. I make dinner and head to Katie's house, I knock on the door Katie smiles and lets me in. Katie and the girls smile and hug me. I smile and hug them back.

"So we have decided to do a movie night." Katie informs Me.

I nod, we pick out 3 movies to watch. Alessia and I cuddle on one of the couches as the girls cuddle on the other couch and on the floor. I grabbed a blanket as she was complaining about being cold.

Alessia smiled as I covered us with a blanket. "Thanks." She says.

I smile and hold her close to me. Halfway during the second movie Alessia starts to get handsy. I bite my lip as her hand squeezes my inner thigh, Alessia starts kissing my neck.

She raises her hand and teases my bulge over my shorts. "Mm fuck." I quietly moan. I was hard from the friction, it was pretty dark in the room so the girls couldn't see what was going on.

Alessia smirks and goes under the blanket. I bite my lip as I feel her lay between my legs, I blush a bit as I feel Alessia slide my shorts and boxers down my legs my cock springs out once it's freed from its confinement.

I bite my lip as Alessia licks my dick and spits on it. I blush as her spit drips and runs down my length. I bite my lip as Alessia takes my dick in her mouth. Mm fuck her mouth was warm and felt amazing around my cock.

I reach under the blanket and run my fingers through her hair. I quietly moan as Alessia slowly bobs her head. Alessia slightly chokes and gags as my tip hits the back of her throat.

Alessia reaches down and toys with my balls as she bobs her head a bit faster. Fuck it's only been 3 minutes and I'm already close to cumming.

Fuck Lessi really know how to give head. I quietly moan and grip the couch cushion, and rest my legs on her shoulders. I grab her head under the blanket and help her bob her head faster.

After 5 more minutes of an amazing blowjob I feel my balls tighten. My precum leaks inside Lessi's mouth letting her know I was about to bust.

*Throatpie:

I can't take it anymore, I bust my load in Lessi's mouth. I grab hold of Lessi's head and push her head further down my cock as I finish inside her mouth. I bite my lip and quietly moan as I continue to unload my seed in her mouth and down her throat.

Lessi chokes and gags a bit as I cum. Lessi lifts her head up a bit and swallows my load. Lessi licks up every drop of cum and swallows it. Lessi comes back up, she cutely giggles and kisses me.

I moan in the kiss as I taste myself on her lips. Alessia lays on her side, I feel her slide her shorts and panties down a bit. I bite my lip as she slowly strokes my dick. We both quietly moan as Lessi slowly slides my cock inside her.

I bite my lip as her walls immediately clench around me. Fuck she was really tight and wet, I smile and kiss her. She smiles against my lips and kisses back.

Alessia cocks warm me as we cuddle and watch the rest of the second movie and watch the 3rd movie. After 2 hours the movie ends and the credits roll. I didn't wanna pull out, but I had to. I bite my lip as I slowly pull out, Alessia quietly moans as I pull out. We put our shorts and underwear back on.

Some of the girls decide to call it a night and leave. Katie smiles when she sees Alessia and I.

"Hey you two are leaving as well?" Katie asks.

"Alessia is getting pretty tired. She was gonna leave her car here and come back to mine for the night." I say.

Katie nods and smiles. "Okay, yeah that's fine, good night girls." Katie says.

"Good night Katie." We say and leave.

Alessia and I get in my car. Alessia cutely giggles and kisses me, I smile and kiss back. I moan in the kiss as Alessia grabs my dick over my shorts.

"Better drive us back home quickly if you wanna cum." Alessia says.

I blush darkly. "Y-Yes Ma'am."

I back out of Katie's driveway and quickly drive us back to my house going 10 over the speed limit. I moan, Alessia giggles and bites her lip as she continues to grab and tease my bulge over my shorts.

The entire car ride home Alessia strokes my bulge, I could constantly feel myself getting harder and harder. We finally arrive back to my house.

"Get in the house." Alessia growled at me, immediately taking the key out of the car and almost running into the house.

Before reaching the stairs Alessia pushes me into the couch, straddling my lap. "I want to ride you right here." Alessia whispered biting my ear.

"O-O-Ok." I replied immediately taking off my clothes, as Alessia does the same.

There wasn't much talking from Alessia. She knew exactly what she wanted, lining my dick up with her pussy. She pushes the tip in and slowly sinks down on my dick taking my length deep inside her, her ass touching my thighs. We both moan in pleasure as she takes me deep inside her.

"Fuck your so tight." I moaned as I licked Alessia's left boob.

Alessia looked me In the eyes as she began to slowly slide up and down on my dick. Bouncing up and down at a minimal speed, the pleasure I was feeling was unbearable. The way Alessia's pussy perfectly swallowed my dick felt amazing, my balls hitting off her ass.

"Fuck Y/n your massive your dick feels so good." Alessia moaned, gripping my boobs as her moans become louder.

Alessia's movements begin to slow down telling me she was getting closer to cumming. She moved her grip from my tits to the back of the couch as she gripped on for dear life, her knuckles turning white her mouth and open. Her boobs In my face as she rode my dick. My dick going deeper and deeper into Alessia's pussy causing her to scream in pleasure.

"Ooooh fuck Y/n, I'm cumming." Alessia yelled as I felt her juices drip down my dick and onto my balls.

Creampie #1:

Alessia cumming sends me over the edge. Cum shoots out of my dick filling up her enterance filling her up to the brim. We both moan as Alessia slowly slides up and down on my dick helping us ride out our highs collecting the last of my cum in her pussy.

"Fuck Less, I've filled you up to the brim." I giggled wiping the sweat off my forehead.

"Fuck Y/n, you have." She moaned looking at the couch where the cum had dripped out of her and onto the cushion.

I grabbed her by the back of the neck bringing her in for another deep kiss. "Get up stairs." I said with a smile, spanking her ass slightly.

Practically running upstairs to my bedroom I lay Alessia on the bed.

"Need you inside me." Alessia moaned laying on her back laying in Missionary.

"Yes ma'am." I giggled.

I kiss her body until I reach her lips. I tease her entrance with my dick, watching her face scrunch up from pleasure she was beginning to feel my tip hitting her clit constantly.

Alessia looked Into my eyes as she opened her mouth ready to speak. Using this I slammed into her twisting her words into moans. I gripped her hips as I slowly thrust in and out of her, watching the pleasure run through her body.

"F-Faster." Lessi cutely moans.

I moan and thrust in and out of her faster. "Fuck Lessi you're so tight and wet." I moaned moving my right hand to grip her right boob.

Alessia's moans didn't quiet down. In fact they got louder. Her mouth constantly hung open, letting out screams of pleasure. I could feel myself somehow getting harder inside of her as I watched her tits bounce up and down from the force I was thrusting into her. The sound of my balls hitting off her skin was a sound I could never get bored of.

Alessia's pussy swallowed me up perfectly, a perfect fit. Her back began to arch off the bed indicating the pleasure she was feeling getting better and better. The thought of this turning me on more and more, my balls tighten up, my precum leaking inside her letting her know that I was about to bust.

Knowing I was close to cumming I gripped Alessia's right leg lifting it over my shoulder allowing me to go deeper into her pussy instantly making me let out a moan.

"Such a good girl." I whispered as I begin to kiss up and down Alessia's calf.

Sweat forming all over Alessia's body as I continued to fuck her, her moans music to my ears letting me know how much she was enjoying this.

"Fuck Less, I'm gonna cum." I moaned my thrusts getting more and more static from the feeling of nearing my orgasm.

"Cum inside of me baby." Alessia moaned her head turning to the right.

Creampie #2:

Alessia didn't say much, I felt my balms tighten. Exploding inside of her pussy filling up her entrance filling her up to the brim.

"Fuck Less, Fuck." I moaned as cum continues to leak out of my dick and fill her up.

"I feel so full." Alessia moaned

I slowly thrust in and out of her helping us ride out our highs. I slowly pull out of her, drops of cum leaking out of her.

"I've got a lot more where that came from. Now how about you show me how good your mouth is." I giggled as Alessia got onto her stomach, her mouth level with my still raging cock.

Without a world Alessia takes my dick in her mouth, humming at the taste of herself still left behind. Hollowing her cheeks she began to slowly bob her head, she moves her right hand and begins to massage my balls.

I moan and run my fingers through her hair. "Mmm fuck." Alessia hums against my dick and bobs her head faster.

"Ugh fuck Less your mouth is amazing." I moaned as I gripped the back of her head as she continued to suck me off.

The eye contact she was giving me was driving me crazy. The way she continued to bob her head up and down on my length gagging every time as she took the entire length. Her Silvia constantly falling out of her mouth, she's reached up my body taking grip of my left boob as she continued to suck.

I took an even tighter grip of her ponytail making her bob her head up and down faster and faster.

"Fuck Less, I'm gonna cum." I moaned as I felt my legs begin to shake a little.

Alessia looked me straight in the eyes as she began to jerk me off as she continued to suck me off causing me to moan louder and louder.

Throatpie:

I can't take it anymore and bust my load in her mouths Alessia chokes and gags as I cum in her mouth and down her throat. Once the last of my cum is in her mouth and I come down from my high, Alessia takes my dick out of her mouth with a plop.

Alessia opens her mouth revealing a mouth full of cum I left behind. With a gulp she swallows my load with a cheeky smile on her face. I smirk and tap her cheek with my cock, Alessia giggles as I do this.

"You're so fucking hot." I smirk. She giggles and kisses me. I break the kiss and look at her. "Get on all fours." I added with a cheeky smile on my face.

"Fuck Y/n I need you please. Please don't make me wait." Alessia begged as I placed my hands on her hips. Looking at the way she leaned forward into the pillows.

"I won't baby." I say wading no time slamming my cock back inside her cum filled pussy.

The way Alessia moaned I'd never heard her moan as loud as she did as she got used to my length. I continued to thrust in and out of her, hypnotized by the way her ass rippled after every thrust.

"Fuck baby your ass looks incredible." I moaned as I added a spank, making her ass jiggle all the more for my entertainment.

"Such a slut." I moaned as I spanked her ass once again.

Her ass became a light shade of red from the amount of spanks she was receiving but she wanted them more and more, the spanks turning her on.

"Pull my hair baby." Alessia moaned looking back at me over her shoulder.

I smiled as I took grip of her hair immediately as she requested and pull on it lightly making her head look up at the ceiling.

"Fuck your so deep in there baby." She moaned louder than before. 

I couldn't say anything in response from the pleasure I was getting but she was right, I felt so deep inside her. The feeling I had she was so tight around my length, that feeling as well as grilling g her ponytail was incredible.

My thrusts becoming faster and harder. "Need your cum baby, all of it inside me please." Alessia moaned looking back at me.

Creampie #3:

I can't take it anymore, the way Alessia looked back at me locking eyes with me with a sense of desperation. I unloaded inside of her, gripping her ass tightly as I felt myself empty deep inside of her pussy.

"Fuck Less." I moaned as I continued to cum inside her, my thrusts getting slower and slower.

After pulling out, Alessia got up with a giggle and sits on the bed. "Did I feel good?" Alessia laughed at me with a smugish laugh.

"So good, but there's something that would feel a lot better." I said with a grin.

"And what's that?" Alessia asks.

"To fuck your tits." I laughed again.

Alessia didn't say anything as gets on her knees in front of me, spitting between her tits. I watched with my eyes peeled opened as she wraps her tits around my dick.

"Like this?" Alessia questions as she begins to slowly stroke my dick with her tits.

"Perfect." I moaned as I ran my thumb across her cheek.

“Yes baby.” She smiled. “Get on the bed.”

I got in the board sitting up against the headboard. My dick still throbbing and raging, Alessia laid between my legs as she planted a kiss in my tip. She spat on my tip, letting her spit drip down my length before wrapping her tits around my cock. Slowly she began to move up and down her nipples getting noticeably harder.

“Fuck Less, yes just like that.” I moaned as I began to look lay with her right nipple. Alessia began to speed up, pressing her tits tighter and tighter around my cock.

“Fuck Less, please I’m gonna cum buckets if you keep going.” I moaned as I gripped the sheets underneath me.

She didn’t slow down as she kept going faster and faster. She began playing with my balls with her right hand.

“Let it all out.” Alessia giggled from the way she was seeing my facial expressions change.

Somehow I could feel my length getting harder as I become closer to cumming. A feeling I had never once felt before, Alessia spat me once more on my tip and went as fast as she could as she began to moan at the precum leaking out in her tits.

“Less, oh fuck….”

Cumshot:

Cum fired out of my cock going everywhere. All over Lessi’s face, tits and even landing in her mouth. My biggest cumshot yet, she stop tit fucking me and began to lick up all the cum off her face and tits.

“Such a cum slut.” I moaned as I watched her do this.

“Your cum slut.” Alessia giggled as she licked up the remaining cum. “Letting it all out all over me.” Less laughed again as she planted a thank you kiss on my lips.

I smiled and kiss back, looking her in the eyes.

“One more?” I questioned.

“Yes please.” Alessia giggled.

“You see that desk?” I ask. Alessia nods, “bend over the desk baby.” I say with a smirk.

Alessia blushes darkly and nods. She leans forward planting a kiss on my right boob before making her way over to the desk and bending over getting in the position I requested.

“Fuck Less is this all for me?” I giggled as I spank her ass and squeeze it.

“All for you.” Alessia moaned as I spanked her ass, she giggles and wriggles her ass slightly.

I slowly began to tease Alessia’s asshole with my tip, slowly getting her prepared for my length. Placing my left hand on her back I slowly enter her. Her hands gripping the desk wherever possible.

“F-Fuck, Y/n you feel fucking massive in my ass.” She tells in a mix of pleasure and pain.

I speed up my thrusts once again, moving my hand from her back to gripping her blonde ponytail Pulling it to allow me to go a bit deeper inside her.

“This is fucking amazing, you feel amazing.” I say softly as I use my spare hand to grab Less’s ass.

The view of Less fidgeting from the pleasure, trying to grip any part of the desk she could as I continued to fuck her making me go even faster turning me on all the more. Watching as her ass rippled after every thrust. Her fat ass bouncing repeatedly off my thighs was a view I’d dreamed of seeing.

I move my hands and grip her hips tightly allowing me to pull her closer to me, Allowing me to go deeper inside of her.

“Babe I feel like I’m gonna explode already.” I moaned as my thrusts become slower.

“Fill up my ass. I want you to fill it to the brim.” Alessia moaned, sweat dripping down her back.

5 minutes passed, the only noises filling the room was our continuous moans as I slowly began to reach my high. I feel the sudden urge building up as I continue to fuck her ass.

“It’s coming Less, fuck it’s coming.” I moaned as I started to thrust in and out of her a bit faster.

Creampie #4:

“Oooh Fuck.” I moan as I feel myself let go in her asshole filling up her ass. “Fuck Less.” I say spanking her ass again. “You’re full.” I giggled.

“Fuck, I feel so full.” Alessia moaned as she got up off the desk cum slowly dripping out of her.

“Such a dirty slut.” I moaned brining her into a lovingly kiss.

This kiss lasted the longest as we looked in each other’s eyes before leaning forward once again.

“I was thinking Less.” I say.

“Yeah?” Less asks.

“I’m in love with you Alessia Russo… will you be my girlfriend?” I asked nervously.

“Yes.” Alessia smiles. “A thousand times yes.” She squealed as she planted her lips roughly on mine once again.

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 8 - Catharsis

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn't exactly considered classy, Stolas)

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 8 | pt. 9 | 2nd bonus

Word count: 4,900

Warnings: self-deprecating thoughts, thoughts of death, heavy drinking, use of alcohol and sexual behavior as coping mechanisms. you know it's what you can expect from a blitzo-centered chapter. this happens right after the ozzie's chapter.

Blitzø is going to die alone. 

He’s going to die alone and no one will attend his funeral or even visit his grave other than to spit on it and his gravestone will read ‘Here Lies Blitzo Buckzo’ and nothing more because no one will be there to tell them to cross out the O and he most certainly won’t be a beloved anything. He'll just stay Blitzo Buckzo, forever.

And Blitzo Buckzo fucking sucks. 

Sometimes he wishes he was able to think before he spoke. He never does much of that and he’s aware he’d probably have refrained from hurting half the people he’s hurt if he could just keep his damn mouth shut. He didn’t think about this all that much… except for when he did. 

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

Her voice rings in his head non-stop, like one of those annoying fucking church bells he’d come across once in the living world that ring every single hour, making it unable for its existence to be forgotten.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

It rings over and over again, stubborn, and it just won’t fucking go away.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

Blitzø drives home on his own, but not in silence. He turns the radio on and the volume up until he figures it must be loud enough that he’ll have trouble hearing his own thoughts. It doesn’t work. The shit thing about thoughts is that they’re not something you can just turn off when you get sick of them. They follow you everywhere, all the time, inconvenient and impossible to get rid of. He proceeds to ignore the songs that come on in favor of mumbling incoherent things under his breath in a desperate attempt to reassure himself that he’s not bothered by everything that just happened.  Things like I can think about people’s fuckin’ feelings and think you’re so much better than me, well fuck you and rich fuckin’ asshole thinks he’s hot shit and probably suckin’ face right now. 

You know, things that prove he doesn’t care one bit. 

Whatever.

He parks the van without a care, still too busy mumbling to himself, leaving it askew, taking up almost half of the parking spot next to his own. The old lady from 22 is gonna be pissed at the inconvenience. Well fuck her too. He doesn’t spare another thought on that. 

He dreads the walk up the stairs to the apartment, wishing he lived somewhere with an elevator, or in a house, or in a super sick fancy mansion where he used money as toilet paper when he took a shit because he was just that rich. Actually, scratch that, that sounds uncomfortable. At least his shitty apartment with limited hot water and four flights of stairs before it had real toilet paper, and it was the nice kind even, he always made sure of it even if it was a little more expensive. 

His little luxuries start to sound stupid when he’s been spending so much time around Stolas and all his fancy stuff.

When he opens the door and enters the apartment, his first immediate thought is to knock on Loona’s door. He groans once as he walks towards it and then once again when he spots the note she left taped to it. ‘Tex invited me to a party. Don’t wait up.’ Yeah of course he fucking did.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

Does he? 

He does. He thinks he does, at least. Maybe not all the time, but why else would he have said those things to her other than to protect her feelings? It’s not his fault if she was setting herself up for heartbreak. She needed to kill those feelings and if she wouldn’t then he would, fuck being the bad guy. In fact, fuck her too! He could so think about other people’s feelings.

He groans a third time at the thought of spending the night all alone, because he already knows what being alone makes out of him, and he doesn't like it one bit. If he could, he’d never be alone, not even for a single second, ever. Maybe that way he wouldn’t be so pathetic and so sad, because that’s what being alone made of him: pathetic and sad. 

It’s why Blitzø used to hate weekends. 

Satan, he fucking hated them. Why couldn’t every day be a work day? Why would they need a break? If it were up to him, there would be no such thing as a weekend. Because on weekends he had nothing to distract him from the ever-growing nothing in the pit of his chest and that wasn’t much fun at all.

Until Y/N accepted the job at I.M.P.

Before that, they used to speak almost exclusively through text, extremely inconsistently. He’s never really been the greatest at texting, but he could spam her with stupid memes and pictures of him doing random things throughout his day and horse doodles that she didn’t seem mad about receiving. They spent a whole year like that, only meeting in person a few times here and there.

When he offered her the job he promised himself not to have any expectations because, well shit, why would she trade in an obviously well-paying job, with her best friend as her boss, where she’d been working for years on end without having to hurt or kill anybody, for whatever it was he was asking her to do? 

But then she said yes.

It wasn’t long until he figured out they weren’t all that different from each other. Apparently, as much as she liked to complain about needing a break, just to annoy him, she dreaded weekends too. Not that she’d just admit that point-blank, but they did go out on on a Friday night after work and she did drink one too many and she sighed and complained about having to go home and it was all so much like him. ‘I don’t wanna be alone, Blitz,’ she’d told him. 

He didn't wanna be alone either.

And so he took her back home and he slept on her couch and he stayed there the next day, keeping her company and, honestly, enjoying hers. 

That’s how their tradition started. Almost every single weekend, the two will find themselves in either of their apartments, in the ugliest clothes they own, to cook or order something extremely greasy and unhealthy and marathon a shit-ton of movies, staying in on Saturday after going out somewhere on Friday. Loona would routinely call it ‘patheticville’ and ‘loser day’ and things like that. 

He doesn't hate weekends anymore. 

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

And now he’d fucking gone and done this. 

He still wanted to fight, then. To argue, to scream, to yell. He wanted them to do it too. To get down and dirty and scream back at him. He wanted a reason to react.

Blitzø has always been very good at reacting. 

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than you own?

But how was he supposed to react to that? The thought of grabbing his phone and texting her something along the lines of ‘fuck you and your pet bird too’ crosses his mind for a moment and, shit, maybe he is a prick, and he was gonna die alone wasn’t he? He was sure to if he kept doing this kind of thing. 

And maybe he fucking deserves it. 

Sometimes he wonders just how he’s going to die. Will it be peaceful? He hopes not. He sure as shit does not deserve peaceful. Maybe it could at least be cool. Maybe he could go down in a super badass shootout in the human world or a cool-as-fuck sword fight or something. Or maybe he’ll die in some dumbass way like tripping on the sidewalk and cracking his head open on the pavement. Maybe it’ll be in one of those days when he’ll be climbing up Stolas’ balcony and then he’ll slip and fall and break all his bones only to be found dead on the grass surrounded by ball gags and anal plugs. A stupid send-off for a stupid motherfucker. 

He throws himself on the couch instead and curls up into a ball, wishing he had a big royal-size bed with soft sheets and like three or four fluffy pillows, or even a simple twin-sized one, or at least that the couch was a pull-out. 

He grabs his phone and inevitably goes where he always goes when he feels like this- his ‘people I care about’ folder. He swipes through the various pictures. The ones of himself with I.M.P. in the living world, the one he made Moxxie pose with him for with them pointing their guns at each other, the one with Millie when she still had her long hair. The one from the day of Loona’s adoption, the one he took of Stolas sleeping next to him. The selfie with Verosika, the one he secretly took of Y/N watching the screen when he first showed ‘Spirit’ to her. 

And then he lands on the one. The one with Barbie and his mom. 

Blitzø is a 35 years old single father who kills people for a living. He’s been handling his own shit for almost two decades now. But in this moment… he just wants his mama.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

What would she have thought of that?

Yeah, he should have known it would be a ‘cry himself to sleep’ kind of night.

Blitzø doesn’t know for how long he’s been passed out when he wakes up disoriented. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, and that probably explains why his body ached so much with how uncomfortable the position he’d slept in was. He wakes up with the barking sounds of Loona’s special ringtone and scrambles to pick it up. 

“Loonie baby? You alright? Did something happen to you, are you hurt?”

“No, Blitz. I just- can you just come pick me up?” She sounds like she’s been crying. Fuck, no, his baby needs him. No time to be sad.

He’s up in a second. “On my way. Send me the address.” He hangs up, searching for his car keys (which he found between the couch seats) and running down the stairs.

Loona went two rings down to Gluttony for this party. It makes sense, he supposes. He’s more of a Lust Ring party kind of guy himself, but he’s heard Gluttony parties got crazy. He accelerates as fast as the shitty van will let him and gets there pretty quickly, only to find her outside, still crying.

He rolls down the window before he even stops the car completely. “Hey, Loonie. How ya doin’, you alright?”

She wipes a tear with the back of her hand and enters the car with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, I’m fine! I just wanna go.” She sounds anything but fine.

He’s about to ask her what happened when some fuckface he definitely doesn’t remember calls him by name. The wrong one. “Hey! That sounds like Blitzo!”

“The ‘O’ is silent, asshole!”

“Hey, I knew it was you! Fuck, man, where you been? You here for the party?”

“No, I’m just here picking up my daughter.”

The guy walks up to Loona’s window, and she hides her face from him with her hands, embarrassed. “Oh, shit, you have a daughter now?”

“Adopted!” She yells out, and it stings a bit, regardless of being objectively true. 

“Oh, man, you’re already leaving? Things just got started! Come in and show us all up again.”

Blitzø groans, annoyed by the insistence. “No, no, thank you, but I think Loonie wants to head back now.” 

Some other weirdo approaches the van, leaning on the passenger’s window. “Huh, the hottie wants to leave?” Come on, right in front of him? 

He instinctively starts to growl. “Watch it.”

“I mean, we could stay a little longer,” Loona tells him.

He sighs. He’s not normally one to turn down a party, especially one with free booze, but he feels that’s probably what he should do.. “I think we need to go, ‘kay? I think it’s been a long night.”

“Well, these people seem to know you. Come on! I think I wanna give this another try. Pleeeeaaase?” She gives him the goddamn puppy dog eyes and she knows he can already hardly resist fulfilling her requests.

Well, if she insists. He could definitely use a drink…

“Okay, fine. Maybe one drink.”

… Or a good old night of drinking to forget.

Blitzø downs two tequila shots before he’s even made it into the house. He downs four beers at rapid speed as soon as he does manage to get inside, crushing the cans and cheering loudly when he was done, and then suddenly he finds himself saying yes to a keg stand. It’s so easy he can do it in his sleep. Fuck being too old for this, he’d never be too old to have fun. And he can handle so much more than a keg stand. “Ha-ha! That was nothing, bitch! Give me a real challenge!”

Beelzebub herself appears in front of him, seemingly materializing out of nowhere (or maybe he’s just drunk), all cheers and neon colors and psychedelic paraphernalia floating around her, and she does challenge him. “Oh yeah? Wanna fucks with the big bitch, imp boy? I got a challenge for ya.” 

Someone somewhere murmurs “He’s gonna die.”

Now that sounds like a challenge he can get behind.

Vortex walks up to them, carrying two huge gallons of something and placing them on the floor between him and the Sin. “Aaaaight, let’s do this! From Bee’s personal supply, the hardest shit there is.” He crouches down to Blitzø’s height. “You ready, my man?” 

Fuck, this better fucking kill him alright. “Bring it, barky! I will drink you under this fucking table, you have no idea what kind of night I’ve had.” He struggles trying to pry the gallon open, and Bee uses her magic or whatever to make them levitate, extending a straw from it. Of course she’d flaunt her magical powers and her easy fucking life to him.

“Alright, shit-talker, but there hasn’t been a soul yet who can beat me at my own game, so you better bring the fire, baby!.” 

“Ohh, is Queen Bee too scawed to lose to a widdle imp like me?” He bets she is. And he bets she’ll be embarrassed when she loses to him (because she is going to lose). Fucking big names like her always are. 

“Oh, okay. Let’s get it on, you little bastard!”

Vortex signs for them to begin and it takes about two seconds for Blitzø to have downed about a fourth of it already, but why stop there? He pulls the straw out and pours the drink straight into his mouth, downing the entirety of it at light speed. He’s so quick Beelzebub even stops chugging her own, amused… Concerned? Noo, no way. Amused. 

He climbs on top of the huge gallon to be at face level with her and properly rub it on her face, high on the adrenaline of it all (and perhaps a little bit on the buzz from the extremely strong drink too). “Yeah, who’s the queen now?”

Loona cheers for him loudly, and it fills him with joy when she proudly yells out “yeah! That’s my dad!” Yeah. That’s damn right. 

Bee lets her own unfinished gallon fall down to the floor and crosses her arms over her chest. Yeah, definitely impressed. “Well, fuck me. That’s a first. I haven’t had a first in a while. That was magical, seriously. Impressive. I tip my crown to you, imp boy. Respect.” Fuck her still calling him imp boy, but she’s actually admitting his victory and shes bowing to him, as she fucking should. 

She howls, every hellhound around following suit, and Blitzø feels on top of the world. 

Why does the world start spinning when you get yourself on top of it? 

He almost falls to the ground, but then he’s getting held up by a bunch of strangers like a cool-as-fuck goddamn rockstar and, shit, why had he stopped getting wasted and doing this kind of thing every night again?

He doesn’t exactly remember when people started doing body shots off of him but he does remember getting freaky with a few of them, which did very little to make him feel good and honestly felt a little gross with the amounts of drinks getting spilled all over and making things rather… sticky, but it was doing wonders to his thought problem. 

Who would have known having four strangers’ tongues inside of you at once could be a great way to muffle the unsolicited thoughts in his head?

The second those people fuck off somewhere else the thoughts come in again, though. Stolas hiding his face in shame behind the menu. Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? Y/n unable to look him in the eye. Are you worried someday I may have enough of it as well? Fizz is gonna hate him forever. You’re not my real dad! Verosika will always regret him. We could just… talk. Or… watch a movie? Or maybe… cuddle? Y/n’s crying face, Stolas’ disappointed one. Oh, they both had such fuckable faces didn’t they? Which reminded him: he really wanted to fuck someone.

He’s making out with a guy whose name he doesn’t know and whose face he doesn’t even remember when Loona pulls him off of him. “Oh, piss on a dick! What the fuck are you doing, Blitz?”

“This guy,” he grins, pointing to the unnamed man, who now stands still behind him. Wasn’t it obvious?

“It looks like you’re in the middle of a goddamn orgy. Stop!” Oh shit. Loona saw all that? An orgy does sound like some real fucking fun right now. Wait, focus, Loona. Fuck.

“Look, I didn’t expect you to come here and see any of this, Loonie, I’m so sorry, but it’s a party! I’m just having fun with uh… uh…” he turns back around to the man Loona pulled him off of. “The fuck is your name again?”

“Dennis.”

Ew. “Christ on a stick, you would be a Dennis. Get the fuck away from me! I’m not fucking a Dennis tonight. I need a Monica or an Alejandro here, stat.” He’s genuinely surprised that works when some hunky dude pulls him into his huuuge chest. Fuck yeah. “Better.”

Loona punches his Alejandro in the face, and he sincerely doesn’t give a fuck about it, because the world is spinning again, which is weird because this time he does not feel like he’s on top of it at all. In fact, it feels like the world is the meanest dom top ever and he’s a whiny, whiny bottom just sore all over from getting spanked ‘till his ass hurt. Not in a good way.

He falls back on Loona, and she catches him. “You don’t need anyone else sucking your face, freaky weirdo.” She throws him over her shoulder. “You need to drink something other than beelzejuice.”

She pulls him into the van, and she doesn’t rush to get home, because, according to her, she can see he’s already about to throw up. No he’s not, no sir! Ma’am. Loonie. 

Whatever. 

His mind clears a little as they make their way back home, and he pulls out his phone from his back pocket. Thankfully it’s still there.

“The fuck are you doing, dumbass? That’s gonna make you dizzy.”

“Gotta… gotta draw a thing.”

“You gotta draw a thing?”

“Yeah,” he affirms, as if that was enough information for everything to be self-explanatory, even nodding his head yes for emphasis. He surprisingly manages to take his time and put real effort into doodling it, showing it to Loona before sending it.

“Does it look like I did it drunk?” He slurs, letting out an unintentional burp.

“It actually looks pretty good, Blitz.”

“Okay.” 

“So. Who’d you call stupid?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay.”

“Can you call me dad again?”

“Nope.”

“Okay.”

He presses send and clicks on Stolas’ contact next, only to see there’s an unread message in their chat.

Stols:  I’m sorry if anything I said or did offended you tonight. 

Ha. Bet you really fucking are. 

Still, he’s not Stolas’ fucking boyfriend. What was there to expect from him? Why would he expect anything? 

Blitzy: ITZ WUTEVS

To Blitzø’s surprise, Stolas begins typing immediately, as if he’d been waiting obsessively for his reply.

Stols: Next time you come over, maybe we can talk about what happened at Ozzie’s?

Talk about it? What was there to talk about? Blitzø wanted nothing more than to bury the memories of tonight the deepest under the ground he possibly could. But of course Stolas would want to talk about it.

He always wants to fucking talk about shit.

Blitzy: Y?

Stolas types for what feels like forever, and it must have been, seen that they’re now only one street from the apartment complex, before he sends in a huge-ass paragraph. 

Stols: I’m sorry! Nevermind, it’s not a big deal. I was just worried about you. You seemed very upset and you took off so fast. I’m sure things will be fine with Y/N, she likes you very much, I can see it. Maybe I read too much into everything, though. Not everything is about me, haha. I’m  glad that’s not the case. I wasn’t upset either I just wanted to make sure you weren’t and obviously you can handle a stupid joke a clown can make. Asmodeus can be very invasive in his humor, and Y/N says she’ll talk to him about it, but I thought it was funny myself. What he said about me at least. I enjoy being the subject of jest. Maybe you can say mean things to me too next time you come over. 

Now that is too much to fucking deal with right now. Which means he won’t. 

Blitzy: SHUR.

He clicks out of Stolas’ chat, taking one last glance at Y/N’s before turning his phone off. She hasn’t seen what he sent yet, and that’s actually okay. 

Loona parks the van messily, doing the same thing he’d done earlier and letting the car occupy some space from the neighbour’s spot. He doesn’t even think before asking her to fix it.  “Sweetie, could you just park it a little more to the right?”

“Why?”

Yeah, Blitzø, why do you even care? “Well I don’t want that freaky cat lady to be up my ass about it tomorrow.” Yeah, that. Sure.

She doesn’t seem to find it in her to argue or even as much as groan, simply readjusting the car. She has to carry him over her shoulder again and all he wishes on the way up this time around is that he were a little more sober. She plops him down on the couch and he curls into himself once again while she grabs him a glass of water. 

Nothing to distract him from his thoughts now. 

“I had a really shitty day,” he tells her.

“Oh, yeah? Is that why you drank like five gallons of who-knows-what?”

“I don’t want her to hate me.”

“The person you called stupid?” 

He nods, hiding his face from her when the tears start coming in. “Fuck, Fizz was right. I’m gonna die alone, aren’t I? Just a wrinkly, old, withered waste. Will you be there, Loonie?” Blitzø feels whatever consciousness he’d gained back slipping away again by the second, this time from the need to sleep rather than the alcohol. At what point did he get so tired?

“Be where?” Loona asks, and he’s too out of it to respond properly, only mumbling half-coherent things like lonely and die alone over and over. “I’ll be there, dad," she tells him anyway, and covers him with a blanket, the softest one they own. “Now go the fuck to sleep,” she orders, and he does hear it, he just doesn’t have the strength to say anything in response as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, his last thoughts being that at least he can’t think about anything while asleep and that… 

He vomits all over the living room floor. 

“Oh, fuck, I did need to throw up.”

[. . .]

You feel stupid when it’s Fizzarolli who finds you crying in Ozzie’s waiting area. He skips his way to the room, humming along to some song you can’t quite make out, and he almost doesn’t see you on his way into the office. He hears you sniffling, though, and turns to face you. It takes him a couple seconds to process that it’s you.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? Um. You okay there?”

You look up at him, but it doesn’t feel like you can say anything yet. 

“I-” He motions behind him with his thumb. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna get Ozzie. Stay here, yeah?”

You don’t even know why exactly you’d asked Stolas to send you here when you were still mad at Ozzie. Or maybe not mad. Just… sad about everything that spiraled out of what he did. 

Then again, did you even have anywhere else to go? You could absolutely not make the night worse for Millie and Moxxie by showing up at their place, thinking of Blitzø made you sad and Stolas was not an option. You had Ozzie, though. And you know you always will, despite whatever stupid shit one of you might do. 

And it honestly beats going home to a big pile of nothing. 

Ozzie appears shortly, Fizz having done as promised and fetched him. Fizz doesn’t come back, though, letting you and Ozzie have a moment to talk on your own, which is nice of him.  

“Hey, pretty babe. Fizz said you were here.” He looks you up and down, worried. “Are you crying?”

“Why did you do that?” 

“What?”

“Why did you fucking sing about all that, why did you- it was so humiliating, Oz, fuck!”

“Oh. I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. It got out of control. I didn’t even know you would be here tonight. You didn’t call me.”

“I didn’t know I was coming either.”

“You wanna tell me what that means?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Alright. That’s okay. I am sorry, though. We took the joke too far and I realized too late that it wasn’t funny.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t. So please don’t fucking do that again. It’s humiliating enough to… fuck... and everybody saw it, and- I…” You groan in frustration, struggling to get your words out. 

“No more about Stolas or any of you. Okay? Promise.” He sits down next to you on the fancy couch and he lets you lean on him. “Did something happen between you?”

You hesitate before speaking. “I didn’t- I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I am stupid. Of course he’s ashamed to be seen with us.”

“Stolas?”

You nod. 

“Did he… tell you that?”

“Well he didn’t deny it.”

“Okay." He takes a deep breath, probably trying to think of how to handle the situation. "You’ll have time to think about all of this. Alright? Now you’re coming with me, you’re taking a bath and you’re sleeping over, and we’ll talk about everything tomorrow. There’s no need to hurt yourself more thinking about it right now.”

He stands up and turns to leave the room, but looks back when he doesn’t hear you do the same. You’re still sat sit still on the couch.

You look up at him. “Oz?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” You repeat yourself.

“What- of course not. Did somebody say that to you?”

You don’t reply. 

He purses his lips together, thinking. “Are they worth feeling stupid for?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve gone through this before.”

“It’s different, you know that.”

“Yeah, it’s worse. They’re not hurting you back this time around, they’re just hurting you.”

You decide he was right. You don't want to talk about this right now. “Can we please not talk about it?”

He hesitates before nodding in agreement. “Yeah. ‘Course, babe.” He grabs your hands and pulls you up. “Come on.”

All the crying makes you so tired you’re almost passed out the second you lie down on the soft, silky bedsheets of Ozzie's guest room bed. Taking a look through your texts before you let yourself fall asleep, you click on Stolas’ contact once you see a notification for an unread text. 

Stolas: I am truly sorry if I did something to hurt you or make you uncomfortable with me tonight. It’s not your obligation to talk Asmodeus  out of doing anything and I did not feel embarrassed because of you or Blitz. If you need space from me I will understand, but I want you to know that is not how I feel. And, for the record, I don’t care what that Verosika person said about you. I hope you’re alright. 

It is way too late and you are way too tired to process or deal with all of that, and honestly? You still do feel stupid, and don’t want to further that feeling by replying to him immediately. That feels too pathetic- it feels like proving Blitzø right.

You’ll reply tomorrow.

You click on Blitzø’s contact next, which also had a notification signaling an unseen message, and you brace yourself for a 'fuck you’ text or something of the sorts. 

You can't keep yourself from smiling when you open the text, turning the phone off and just waiting for sleep come to you, and things feel a lot less shitty than just a second before.

Having friends is pretty fucking okay.

A/N: everybody say thank you @sweetadonisbutbetter and also wish them a happy birthday!! the adorable little doodle blitzo drew is theirs and they did it especially so i could put it in this chapter which is so nice of them and so fucking cool!!

[raspberryera]

The Fall | 3

Pairing: Vanessa Shelly x Reader

Warnings: Smut, fingering, and oral

Summary: Vanessa drives you home.

Word Count: 3.8k

Authors Note: Thank you so much for 100 likes! This is my first time writing smut so it's pretty short so please let me know if I should make another part!

Several hours had passed since Vanessa's arrival, and as you kept watch on the cameras, she quietly worked on some leftover paperwork. Her presence in the room was silent yet undeniable, her body language professional and composed but with a hint of flirtatiousness that filled you with anticipation as you waited for the shift to finish. As you continued to monitor the cameras, you couldn't help but notice her occasional glances at you, your eyes often shifting towards hers.

The clock on your desk read 4:47 am and you could feel the fatigue slowly creeping up on you, the tiredness slowly overpowering your desire to spend your shift in Vanessa's company. Despite your desire to be at home and rest, something inside you was drawn back to her, and you found yourself unable to peel your eyes away from her. You were aware that your gaze towards Vanessa was bordering on inappropriate given the context of your relationship, though something about her presence and flirtatious mannerisms made it difficult to look away. You knew you probably shouldn't be gawking at a "friend" the way you were, but you couldn't help it anyway, your eyes unwillingly drifting back towards her at every opportunity.

Vanessa saw your glances out of the corner of her eye, and she couldn't help but smile at the fact that you had your eyes on her. She enjoyed the attention that you were giving her.

A bit more time had passed and you checked the clock, which now read 5:58 am as your shift was almost over. You let out a sigh of relief at the realization.

You had unexpectedly remembered that you didn't have a ride home, and with your shift coming to an end very soon, you decided to approach Vanessa and ask her for a ride home, hoping that she would willingly oblige.

"Hey," you said, breaking the momentary standstill between you two.

"Hm?" she hummed at your gentle interruption, her tone somewhat inquisitive.

"Umm... my friend had dropped me off at work," you said, pausing momentarily as you thought about how to phrase your question. "He can't drive me home, so I was wondering if it would be possible for you to drive me home instead?"

"Ah, I see," Vanessa said, her tone mildly amused. She gave you a small grin before responding, "Of course I can give you a ride home. I'm heading that way anyway, and I wouldn't want you stuck here after your long shift." She then paused and gently added, "I guess I have an excuse to spend some more time with you now, do I?"

"I suppose so," you replied, a tinge of embarrassment mixing with the anticipation of spending more time with her.

Vanessa pushed her chair back and stood up, grabbing the stack of paperwork in front of her. "Let's go," she said, you could make out the excitement in her tone when she added, "I can't wait to get home and finally rest."

"Same here," you replied, laughing slightly, standing up from your seat as well. A small blush formed on your face, although it was more due to their growing anticipation of spending more time with Vanessa than to her sudden standing up.

As you both exited the building, the late night air hit you and the silence between you two became more noticeable, but in it, the tension and excitement of the moment was palpable, the prospect of spending more time with Vanessa giving way to a growing anticipation of spending the ride back with her as you walked side by side across the deserted parking lot.

"Do you think I can ride shotgun?" you joked playfully, causing Vanessa to giggle at your humorous response. "I don't think my ego could handle riding in the back of a cop car," you added with a teasing grin.

Vanessa let out a small giggle at your playful banter. As you both continued towards her patrol car, she gave you a playful smile before responding, "Of course you can ride shotgun.” She gave you another cheeky grin as she added, "I don't blame you for avoiding the backseat."

You both made it to the car, Vanessa leading the way towards the passenger side. She reached out for the passenger door to open it for you. You quickly got into the car nodding, silently thanking her. Your hands accidentally brushing against Vanessa's for a short moment before you settled into the seat, your body suddenly heated up at the brief physical contact.

She made her way around the vehicle, slowly circling around to the driver's side. You felt your heart skip a beat as she finally entered into the driver's side, your eyes following her every movement as your body tingled with excitement at the sudden proximity you found yourself in with her.

Vanessa shot you a soft smile as she turned on the engine and put the car into reverse, her eyes meeting yours as she backed out of her parking space. "So," she spoke up, attempting to start a conversation to lessen the tension of the closed space. Vanessa's nervousness at the closeness between the two of you was evident. "What do you usually do after you get off your shift?" she asked, hoping her question would break the awkwardness.

"Well, the obvious answer would be sleep, but sometimes that just doesn't work out," you replied with a light laugh, trying downplay your nervousness. You shrugged and looked over her way as you asked, "How about you?" You shifted slightly in your seat, the closeness between the two of you starting to affect your nerves.

She gave you a small smile. Each passing second she was becoming conscious of the closeness between the two of you. She let out a soft sigh of exasperation as she replied, "I guess that makes two of us, huh? My sleep schedule's all out of wack; I hardly feel tired after my shift at all."

"Really? You're not tired after your long shift?" You asked slightly shocked.

Her head shook back and forth. "Nope, I'm not, surprisingly." A small smile grew on her lips, making it obvious that she wasn't tired in the slightest, which caused you to tilt your head slightly.

"Honestly, I'm not that tired either," you confessed after giving Vanessa a brief glance, your gaze then moving to the road before you. She responded with a light chuckle and a small shrug as she continued to drive, the slight tension from earlier now relieved, the both of you now feeling a bit more relaxed and comfortable.

"Well, that makes two of us, then," Vanessa responded, her teasing glance towards you shifting into a seductive smirk as she continued to drive. "I can think of some ways we can spend our time together." She says teasing you, her eyes remaining fixed on the road.

"I'm sure you can," you responded in a lighthearted tone, teasing Vanessa right back with your reply before your gaze turned back towards the road.

"Oh, you have no idea," Vanessa replied, a smirk growing on her lips. Blush creeped onto your face shocked by her words. She seemed to thrive on your continued response to her teasing.

As you glanced at the road, you noticed that you were nearing your house, Vanessa pulling into your street as she drove on.

She pulled up in front of your house, parking the car before shifting her gaze towards you and speaking, "Want me to walk you to your door?" Her voice was soft yet playful as she gave you a knowing smirk, her words filled with an underlying layer of flirtation as she waited for your response, her eyes remaining fixed on you as she awaited your next move.

"I'd actually like that," you responded, your gaze fixated on Vanessa, your heart beating slightly faster as you took in her knowing smirk.

There was an unspoken tension between the two of you, your mind now filled with the anticipation of what exactly would happen next, if anything would.

You and Vanessa both exit the car, walking side by side up the pathway leading to your front door, the two of you remaining close together as your heart rate begins to increase. The two of you now mere inches apart, your mind flooding with thoughts and images of what exactly might happen once you set foot in the threshold of your front door.

You quickly shook your head away from your thoughts as you reached the front door. Your fingers grasped the handle and turned it, slightly opening it while returning your focus to Vanessa.

There was a moment of silence that lingered in the air, the tension between you two growing thicker with each passing second. You held the door open, your gaze meeting hers and your heart beating rapidly as you looked into her eyes. The desire to jump into Vanessa's arms and kiss her was nearly overwhelming.

You had opened your mouth to speak, to thank her, but Vanessa unexpectedly took control by placing her hands on your face and pulling you in close, her lips crashing fiercely against yours as she fulfilled both of your desires. The kiss was passionate, the pent-up feelings and emotions being released like a dam bursting open. There was no holding back, the overwhelming confirmation that Vanessa had felt the same for you, her lips soft and tasting of blueberry chapstick, her body heat rising with a feverish passion at the intensity of your kiss.

You were intoxicated by the kiss, and Vanessa's expertise in kissing proved to be almost overwhelming, her lips and mannerisms almost too good to be true. As your hands moved from the door to her hips, she pulled slightly back from the kiss to catch her breath and rested her forehead against yours, the two of you locked in a haze of passion as your head swirled with the intensity of the kiss and the closeness of Vanessa.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Vanessa says, practically panting out, due to being out a breath.

Her words catch you off guard, your face flushed and pulse racing at Vanessa's confession. You weren't sure what to say, your body still recovering from the shock of the kiss and your stomach full of butterflies at the boldness of Vanessa's words. Her panting breaths a sign of her own excitement and arousal. Her bold confession only made the butterflies in your stomach even flap harder.

Her playful demeanor was evident as she leaned back in towards you, her lips connecting forcefully with yours. The kiss became more intense and sloppy - and wet, which now wasn’t the only wet thing.

Vanessa pulled her body closer to yours, her movements becoming more deliberate as she drew you further backward and deeper into the confines of the doorway. Her lips pressed more forcefully against yours, the intimacy and closeness causing the heat to rise rapidly between the two of you. You felt the flood of passion start to overtake your senses, Vanessa's actions leading the way as she pulled you backward towards her, your mind becoming more fuzzy and disoriented due to the intoxicating aroma of her kiss.

As you stumbled backwards into your entryway, she smoothly shut the door behind the both of you with one hand, never taking her lips off yours. She momentarily pulled back to catch her breath. She breathed in heavily to compensate for her rapid breathing and the rise in her heart rate, while maintaining a firm grip on you, her strong hands now clutching your body close, you let out a gasp as she presses you against the door.

As the passion continues to build between the two of you, Vanessa's actions become more deliberate and intense, her hold on you growing tighter and her kisses becoming more forceful as your body begins to react with the sensations of her touch. Her lips press against your own in a fierce display of lust and her tongue begins to enter your mouth, the heat and tension steadily rising as you both lose control. Your breaths becoming louder and more intense as her hands roam your body.

Her hand slowly found its way to your chest, her long fingers gently circling your skin and caressing your tit though your shirt. Her touch was light and tentative at first, but you could feel it growing in fervor and intensity as she moved upwards, her fingers starting to probe and caress your tits as your arms found their way around her neck, leaning into her touch. The intensity of your actions matching the growing heat between the both of you.

The kisses shared between the both of you became more, and more desperate. Your desire for her growing immensely.

You dragged Vanessa, still in the heat of the moment, towards your bedroom, your bodies stumbling a bit as you both kissed, but neither of you cared at this point. It had felt like you had waited for this moment your whole life, and you couldn’t believe it was happening.

As you entered your bedroom, Vanessa pushed you onto the bed, climbing on top of you and smirking down at you. Her newfound position at the forefront of your shared intimate moment giving her control. You had let out a gasp at her movements as you looked up at her.

Vanessa leaned down and gave your lips another lingering kiss, she softly spoke to you, "Hmm, I can’t tell you have many times I've imagined this; you below me," she whispered with a hint of seduction in her voice. She hoped her words would get a reaction out of you.

“Yeah? What exactly did you think about?” You asked, trying to fake your confidence, while deep down you were nervous. Your face heating up slightly, awaiting her response.

She leaned in towards you again, as she whispered, "I thought about how many ways I could please you."

Your eyes widened as you heard her words, and your voice grew thick with lust and desire as you whispered back, "Well, shall we try them out?" Vanessa nodded, as she leaned in further and began leaving wet and sloppy kisses down your neck, you let out a sigh of pleasure.

Vanessa's hands slowly traveled down to the hem of your shirt, her hands gripping it gently as she looked back at you, silently asking for permission to remove it. Your face flushed as you nodded your head, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.

She pulled your shirt up slowly, her hands slipping between the fabric and your body as you sat up slightly to allow her to pull the shirt over your head.

Vanessa tossed your shirt into a corner of the room, unconcerned on where it would end up, leaving you in your bra. She took time to admire your chest and how it moved up and down as you breathed.

"God, you're so hot," Vanessa breathed out, still admiring you as she let your figure and shape sink into her mind.

You felt your body grow slightly flush at her words, and you responded saying, "You're not too bad yourself."

Vanessa leaned back in, gently kissing you at first. Her hands freely roamed your body, desiring to touch every last inch of it, both of your bodies now heating up (even more) as you responded with the same passion, your fingers running through Vanessa's hair. Your breaths becoming heavier, and the tempo of the kisses slowly growing in intensity, your body beginning to melt with pleasure and excitement as Vanessa's lips met yours.

You moaned into the kiss, the feeling of Vanessa's pink, soft lips on yours causing another wave of pleasure to wash over you. Your desire for her grew more and more intense than ever before. Never before would you think you’d even want, need a woman as much as you needed her.

As the kiss became more intense, you couldn't control yourself anymore. You grabbed the hem of her shirt, your fingers gripping the fabric as you lifted it up higher.

As you lifted Vanessa's shirt off, she held her arms over her head to help you, and her body was exposed to you as her shirt was lifted over her head. As the shirt was removed, her dark, lacy bra revealed itself, highlighting her beauty. A smirk was drawn on your face in response as you tossed Vanessa's shirt near yours.

You only had a moment to take in the sight of Vanessa, as she took no time leaning back into kiss you once more, her lips gently yet vigorously meeting yours. Vanessa slowly allowing her body to lean back as she gently spread your legs, pressing the entirety of her body against yours, her knee now rubbing against your heat.

The feeling was intoxicating, it drove you wild, your body craving more, your hips involuntarily lifting as you sought for more friction. Your hips moved in a rhythmic motion as your body begged for more contact, the intensity of the feeling overtaking you and your senses as Vanessa continued to kiss you, her knees digging deeper into your as the motions of your hips grew more intense.

Vanessa's hand quickly darted behind you, her fingers handling the clasp of your bra and unclipping it with swift motion, as you stood motionless for a second, stunned at the ease and quickness of Vanessa's actions. Vanessa then tossed your bra somewhere into the room, exposing your upper body to the open air and creating a feeling of vulnerability before her, watching your reaction to her movements with a half-smirk.

She leaned down and began to leave open mouth kisses on your collarbone, slowly making her way down to your breasts. As she reached your tits she took a nipple into her mouth and rolled the other between her thumb and pointer finger. The sudden contact almost overwhelming, you arched your back at the feeling.

Her motions alternated between swirling her tongue around and sucking on your nipple. Your soft whimpers and panting noises only encouraging her to do more. Vanessa switched sides now paying attention to your other nipple.

Your body had grown even hotter at the feeling of her hands and hot mouth on you. She began her decent down your body. Leaving soft, gentle kisses down your body. Her kisses got sloppier as she reached your naval.

Vanessa looked up at you and smirked as she began to unbutton your pants teasingly slow. As she finally unbuttoned your jeans, Vanessa began to tug downwards on the waistline - a clear sign for you to help her by lifting your hips. The anticipation was almost maddening.

She pulled off your jeans painfully slow, obviously teasing you. At this point you weren't sure if you could handle much more teasing.

Finally your jeans were off and discarded somewhere, God knows where, in the room. She leaned back in, continuing where she had left off, just below your naval. Slowly and teasingly she lowered her way down. Both of her hands found each one of your thighs, parting them a bit wider than before.

Vanessa began to leave light kisses all over your thighs and inner thighs. You were becoming restless at this point as you spoke up, "Please, Vanessa."

You were desperate for her to relieve the ache and tension between your thighs. "Please what?" She asked, although she already knew the answer she wanted to hear you say it.

"Touch me please," you begged her. You should've been embarrassed of how needy you were, but all you could focus on is how much you needed her.

"But I am touching you?" She teased, smirking slightly. But she gave in as soon as she glanced at your face.

Vanessa slowly rubbed your clit through the fabric of your underwear. You let out a sigh of relief at the sudden pleasure. She could immediately feel how wet you were, even though there was a barrier between her thumb and your heat.

Leaning down she took the waistline of your panties between her teeth she looked you directly in your eyes she pulled it down. It honestly was the hottest thing you had ever witnessed. She pulled it the rest of the way down with her hands and tossed it behind her, not giving a care where it would end up. All of her attention right now was on you.

She didn’t waste any time as she began kissing your inner thighs as she made her way closer and closer to where you had desired her most. You squirmed, waiting for something, anything to happen. As she reached your center she tested the waters by licking your clit softly. You gasped at the contact.

She had began slowly, licking you but as soon as she heard just what those gentle touches could do to you, it fueled her. She applied more pressure with her tongue, which drove you insane. Your hands made its way to her hair which you now gripped.

Testing the waters once more, she began to suck on your clit which brought out an explicit moan out of your lips.

She began to eat you out like you were her last meal. You were shocked by how good she was at.

Vanessa brought her middle finger up to you entrance as she slowly pushed it in, still paying attention to your bundle of nerves. She slowly trusted her finger in you, once in a while curling it in a ‘come-hither’ motion.

After a while she pushed in her ring finger as well, it took you a second to adjust to the stretch of her fingers but once you did your senses were overwhelmed with pleasure.

“Fuck,” you moaned out. That fueled her even farther as she sped up her movements. You were already embarrassing close to coming - but in your position who wouldn’t?

Your moans became closer and closer together, Vanessa knew exactly what that meant. She kept her movements at the same pace and her fingers kept brushing and curling against the spot the made you see stars. You were sure that the neighbors would make a noise complaint due to your noises.

Your back arched as the coil in you abdomen snapped, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. You panted as Vanessa worked you through your high as your legs shaked softly. She stopped her movements and removed her fingers.

You took a moment to recover as you looked up at her. “God, you’re amazing.” You said looking at her with your eyes half-lidded. She let out a soft laugh.

Now all you could think of was returning the favor and how hard you were falling for the blonde.

[tha-star]

Another event with Grandpa Bruce

Mar'i and Jacob Grayson are the first grandchildren, and as the first, they know exactly how to use their greatest power to manipulate their grandfather: cuteness.

And they will pass on these teachings from generation to generation, every time they spend time with their cousins ​​at the mansion, and want to break one of their parents' rules.

And Bruce, like any good grandfather, will find it funny every time his grandchildren complain about their bad behavior, and say "you were exactly like that when they were their age".

Jake flew to the ceiling and is now holding on upside down to the curtain? Oh, Dick, you climbed up there without knowing how to fly at his age, what are you talking about?

Mari had a tantrum and started destroying the furniture? Oh, Dick, you were THE original ANGRY ROBIN, that's why you knew how to deal with little Damian so well.

Jason's daughter, who is not old enough to drive, stole his motorcycle? Oh, Jason, you should be so proud (he is, but he won't show it in front of her).

Tim's son didn't get a proper bedtime? Oh, Tim, you getting 4 hours of sleep was a party-worthy event.

Lizzie brought a pegasus "that followed her home"? Oh, Damian, isn't it ironic that you already had a bat dragon at that age…

And at the holidays, Bruce, like a good grandfather, would secretly give money to each of his grandchildren. "Here, go buy ice cream" - that's enough to buy the store.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Greedflation, but for prisoners

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TOMORROW (Apr 21) in TORINO, then Marin County (Apr 27), Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

Today in "Capitalists Hate Capitalism" news: The Appeal has published the first-ever survey of national prison commissary prices, revealing just how badly the prison profiteer system gouges American's all-time, world-record-beating prison population:

https://theappeal.org/locked-in-priced-out-how-much-prison-commissary-prices/

Like every aspect of the prison contracting system, prison commissaries – the stores where prisoners are able to buy food, sundries, toiletries and other items – are dominated by private equity funds that have bought out all the smaller players. Private equity deals always involve gigantic amounts of debt (typically, the first thing PE companies do after acquiring a company is to borrow heavily against it and then pay themselves a hefty dividend).

The need to service this debt drives PE companies to cut quality, squeeze suppliers, and raise prices. That's why PE loves to buy up the kinds of businesses you must spend your money at: dialysis clinics, long-term care facilities, funeral homes, and prison services.

Prisoners, after all, are a literal captive market. Unlike capitalist ventures, which involve the risk that a customer will take their business elsewhere, prison commissary providers have the most airtight of monopolies over prisoners' shopping.

Not that prisoners have a lot of money to spend. The 13th Amendment specifically allows for the enslavement of convicted criminals, and so even though many prisoners are subject to forced labor, they aren't necessarily paid for it:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/02/captive-customers/#guillotine-watch

Six states ban paying prisoners anything. North Carolina caps prisoners' pay at one dollar per day. Nationally, prisoners earn $0.52/hour, while producing $11b/year in goods and services:

https://www.dollarsandsense.org/archives/2024/0324bowman.html

So there's a double cruelty to prison commissary price-gouging. Prisoners earn far less than any other kind of worker, and they pay vastly inflated prices for the necessities of life. There's also a triple cruelty: prisoners' families – deprived of an incarcerated breadwinner's earnings – are called upon to make up the difference for jacked up commissary prices out of their own strained finances.

So what does prison profiteering look like, in dollars and sense? Here's the first-of-its-kind database tracking the costs of food, hygiene items and religious items in 46 states:

https://theappeal.org/commissary-database/

Prisoners rely heavily on commissaries for food. Prisons serve spoiled, inedible food, and often there isn't enough to go around – prisoners who rely on the food provided by their institutions literally starve. This is worst in prisons where private equity funds have taken over the cafeteria, which is inevitable accompanied by swingeing cuts to food quality and portions:

https://theappeal.org/prison-food-virginia-fluvanna-correctional-center/

So you have one private equity fund starving prisoners, and another that's gouging them on food. Or sometimes it's the same company. Keefe Group, owned by HIG Capital, provides commissaries to prisons whose cafeterias are managed by other HIG Capital portfolio companies like Trinity Services Group. HIG also owns the prison health-care company Wellpath – so if they give you food poisoning, they get paid twice.

Wellpath delivers "grossly inadequate healthcare":

https://theappeal.org/massachusetts-prisons-wellpath-dentures-teeth/

And Trinity serves "meager portions of inedible food":

https://theappeal.org/clayton-county-jail-sheriff-election/

When prison commissaries gouge on food, no part of the inventory is spared, even the cheapest items. In Florida, a packet of ramen costs $1.06, 300% more inside the prison than it does at the Target down the street:

https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/24444312-fl_doc_combined_commissary_lists#document/p6/a2444049

America's prisoners aren't just hungry, they're also hot. The climate emergency is sending temperatures in America's largely un-air-conditioned prisons soaring to dangerous levels. Commissaries capitalize on this, too: an 8" fan costs $40 in Delaware's Sussex Correctional Institution. In Georgia, that fan goes for $32 (but prisoners are not paid for their labor in Georgia pens). And in scorching Texas, the commissary raised the price of water by 50% last summer:

https://www.tpr.org/criminal-justice/2023-07-20/texas-charges-prisoners-50-more-for-water-for-as-heat-wave-continues

Toiletries are also sold at prices that would make an airport gift-shop blush. Need denture adhesive? That's $12.28 in an Idaho pen, triple the retail price. 15% of America's prisoners are over 55. The Keefe Group – sister company to the "grossly inadequate" healthcare company Wellpath – operates that commissary. In Oregon, the commissary charges a 200% markup on hearing-aid batteries. Vermont charges a 500% markup on reading glasses. Imagine spending decades in prison: toothless, blind, and deaf.

Then there's the religious items. Bibles and Christmas cards are surprisingly reasonable, but a Qaran will run you $26 in Vermont, where a Bible is a mere $4.55. Kufi caps – which cost $3 or less in the free world – go for $12 in Indiana prisons. A Virginia prisoner needs to work for 8 hours to earn enough to buy a commissary Ramadan card (you can buy a Christmas card after three hours' labor).

Prison price-gougers are finally facing a comeuppance. California's new BASIC Act caps prison commissary markups at 35% (California commissaries used to charge 63-200% markups):

https://theappeal.org/price-gouging-in-california-prisons-newsom-signature/

Last year, Nevada banned any markup on hygiene items:

https://www.leg.state.nv.us/App/NELIS/REL/82nd2023/Bill/10425/Overview

And prison tech monopolist Securus has been driven to the brink of bankruptcy, thanks to the activism of Worth Rises and its coalition partners:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/08/money-talks/

When someone tells you who they are, believe them the first time. Prisons show us how businesses would treat us if they could get away with it.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/20/captive-market/#locked-in

[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 7)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Y/N deals with going off her medications and being apart from Harry. They finally reconnect to spend the holidays together.

Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6

Word Count: 6k

CW: smut

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first week without suppressants and soothers isn’t awful. There's just enough of the medication still in your system to keep you feeling somewhat normal. Plus, your nest, really your entire apartment, is still holding on to Harry’s scent.

You continue to sacrifice sleep so you can watch live streams of Harry’s shows. You’re pleasantly surprised to see “Canyon Moon” back on the set list. You can’t help but wonder if it has anything to do with you telling him that it’s your favorite song.

Those first days lull you into a false sense of security. Maybe letting your omega out, living as nature intended, won’t be the worst thing.

But after that first week, things start to take a turn. Your system is definitely cleared of the meds now. And Harry’s scent has faded from your nest and apartment. You sleep restlessly Tuesday night, and Wednesday morning is rough. Not only are the touch deprivation symptoms coming back, but now you’re exhausted on top of it. Part of you wants to open another bag of scented items that Harry gave you so you can fix your nest. But that would be silly since you’re traveling home this afternoon to be with your family for Thanksgiving.

Instead, you decide to pack one of those bags with you, so you have his scent if needed. You realize that you likely won’t, since being around your family tends to soothe your omega. While packs don’t really exist anymore there’s still an inherent connection to family members that simulates the connection of packmates.

Your cousins know you're an omega, and though no one ever explicitly talks about it, they take care of you in little ways. They subtly check on you, or they’ll create a makeshift nest of blankets so that you all can cuddle together during movie nights. Even though they’re betas, their presence, and their obvious love for you has always helped keep you balanced.

Plus, your oldest cousin now has two pups, one a toddler and one only a few months old. No one complains when you baby hog them, knowing that holding a pup is also very soothing for an omega.

Reenergized at the thought of seeing your family, you’re able to get out of bed and finish packing, making sure to include one unopened bag of Harry’s scented items just in case.

After finishing the last two projects you’re doing for work, you start the hour-long drive home. When you arrive, you’re greeted by your parents, aunt, uncle, and one of your cousins. They’ll all be staying at the house, while your other two out of town cousins, along with their spouses and the kids, rented an Airbnb nearby.

You and your cousin Kelly will be sharing your room. It’s not the first time, since you’re an only child and she’s the youngest of three so you were often put together during family trips. She’s a couple years younger, in her final year of college, but the two of you have always been close. She’s also a huge Harry Styles fan and you kind of can’t wait to spill the beans about your relationship with him.

It’s a chaotic afternoon as you all work on preparing the house to host everyone for the next few days. Everyone comes over for pizza dinner and it’s wonderful to be surrounded by so many people. There’s music playing, conversations flowing, and constant laughter. You sit and color with your cousin’s son and get some baby cuddles with her daughter. It’s a perfect night and takes your mind off your problems for the moment.

That night, you and Kelly are getting ready for bed when your phone buzzes. You quickly turn to grab it but she’s faster. You see the screen for a second and there’s definitely a text from Harry.

He’s saved in your phone as just “Harry”, so she doesn’t know exactly who you’re talking to, as evidenced by her immediately asking “Ooooh who’s Harry?”

“I’m going to tell you, but you cannot freak out, or tell anyone else yet, okay?” you reply.

She nods yes with a comically serious look on her face.

“Harry is Harry Styles.”

For a moment there is silence as she stares at you blankly. You’re startled when she suddenly shouts “WHAT?”

You jump before quickly shushing her, as you don’t want either of your parents to find out what you’re talking about.

“If you promise to stay quiet, I’ll tell you the whole story,” you state.

Kelly quickly sits down and mimes locking her lips shut, showing that she intends to listen. You sit on the bed across from her and dive in, starting from the first concert of his you went to, all the way until his visit last week. She listens intently, eyes wide in disbelief.

“So. Harry Styles is your boyfriend? And your alpha?” She says, and you nod to confirm. It sends butterflies through your belly, hearing someone else refer to Harry in that way. It’s been such a well-kept secret since the first interaction and it’s so nice to have someone close to you know all the details. It almost makes it more real somehow.

After answering all of Kelly’s questions she gets up to finish getting ready for bed. You pull up your phone to answer Harry’s text from earlier. He was reaching out to check on you and wish you a good night, and it warms your heart to know you’re on his mind even countries apart.

You sleep well that night and wake up feeling refreshed on Thanksgiving morning. After a quick breakfast and cup of tea you get down to business to help your mom prepare for dinner. The rest of your family arrives in the early afternoon and the party is soon in full swing.

The next morning is slow and lazy, everyone just hanging out and watching movies together. You all enjoy the Thanksgiving leftovers throughout the day, and by mid-afternoon you’ve brought out a few different games to play together. You’re feeling great, though you do with you could have your alpha by your side. That would make it truly perfect.

That night you and Kelly lay in bed watching a livestream of Harry’s show. The next morning everyone packs up to travel back home, including you.

Your apartment now feels extra lonely, so you quickly shower before building a new nest using the items Harry gave you. Since he doesn’t have a show, you Facetime for hours that afternoon. You tell him all about your visit home and fills you in on how his time in Mexico was.

You discuss when you can see each other again, a conversation which should make you happy, but instead becomes a bit stressful. While you want nothing more than to join Harry on tour, there’s still up to three weeks until your passport is definitely going to arrive. You’d never left the country before, never had plans to, and so you never really thought about getting one. If you could go back in time, you’d slap past you or being so unprepared.

“Christmas is more than three weeks away,” Harry says. “Would you consider coming to England for the holidays?”

“Like, with your family?” you inquire.

“I’d like for you to meet them,” he replies. “It’s going to be low-key this year. Just mum, Gemma, and Michal.”

“Okay. Yea, that sounds fun!” It does. Totally fun. Only fun. Not stressful at all to meet the family so soon.

“Do you think it’ll be a problem with your parents?”

“They’ve always wanted to spend the holidays on a vacation to South Carolina. Maybe I’ll make that my gift to them and then everyone will be happy,” you answer. It’s something you’ve wanted to do for them for years anyway and you finally have more than enough money in savings to make it happen.

“That sounds really nice,” he says. “How long do you think you can come for? I’d love to have you here for Christmas and New Years if possible.”

“I could do that. The next couple weeks will be busy at work, but it calms way down by Christmas. I’ll obviously have to work a bit while I’m there, but it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Fantastic! I’ll get a potential itinerary over to you and you can let me know if it needs any changes.”

You talk a little longer before hanging up to go to sleep. You’re feeling better now knowing that you have plans to see him, even if you are disappointed that it’s still a month away.

And what an awful month it turns out to be. Harry does everything he can to be helpful, but there’s just not much he can do for touch deprivation from a distance. You talk on the phone as much as possible and the scented clothes he sent you are a true lifesaver. But every day becomes a struggle. The constant itch causes you to scratch your skin raw, no number of blankets can get you warm, and you’ve had to cut way down on exercise since it always leaves you dizzy.

You’re so exhausted that packing is a nearly full day chore, but the knowledge that you’ll see Harry in less than 48 hours is enough to motivate you to finish the task. You’re taking the red eye and landing in the morning the day before Christmas. Harry informed you a few days prior that he’ll be in London for a meeting when you land, and that Gemma will be picking you up. You’re disappointed that you won’t see him right away, but he promised he’ll be there in time for dinner.

Your normal travel anxiety is ten times worse than usual, partially due to it being your first international flight and partially due to the lack of suppressants and soothers that you’d relied on for years. Harry had insisted on purchasing you a first-class ticket, which you fought him on, saying it was unnecessary. But now that you’ve finished boarding, you’re grateful. You’re already overstimulated from being around so many people in the airport and it’s nice to have so much space during the flight.

You try to get some rest but for some reason you just cannot fall asleep. Instead, you listen to the podcasts you downloaded while curled up, face tucked into Harry’s sweater that you saved just for this trip.

The moment you land you get a text from Gemma that she’s on her way and will be there in half an hour, giving you time to collect your luggage and get to the pickup area. You’re too tired to be nervous about meeting your boyfriend’s sister for the first time, which is a true blessing at this moment.

You’re only waiting outside for a minute before you see her pull up. She hops out of the car to greet you with a hug and help you get your suitcase into the trunk.

She makes conversation throughout the drive, but can tell you’re exhausted and says, “Mums got some breakfast waiting at home and Harry’s room is ready for you, so you can get a nap before he gets back.”

She pulls up to the house a moment later and quickly grabs your bag before leading you inside.

“Mum!” she calls out as she opens the door. Moments later, Anne steps into the entryway and pulls you in for a hug, saying, “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Harry cannot stop talking about you.” You smile and blush at that and reply, “It’s nice to meet you as well. Thank you for having me.”

“Of course! We couldn’t be more excited that you’re joining us for the holidays! Now come, you must be starving.”

She leads you into the kitchen and the three of you sit together and have a late breakfast. They do most of the talking, which you appreciate.

After you’re done eating you try to clean up, but Anne stops you saying, “Leave everything, please, you’re our guest. You must be tired; Gemma can bring you up to Harry’s room so you can rest a bit.”

“That would be great, thank you so much,” you reply.

Gemma leads you upstairs, pointing out the bathroom before leading you to Harry’s bedroom. You’re immediately hit with his scent, so potent that for a second you think he must be there with you.

You quickly scan the room, taking in the decorations and all his books and belongings. It’s like a shrine of Harry, and you want to examine everything, but you’re truly exhausted. As soon as Gemma steps out you start getting ready for a nap. There’s a pile of clothes on the bed, a t-shirt and some pajama pants. They’re doused in Harry’s scent and without even thinking, you change into them.

The room starts to spin around you, and you immediately get into bed. The world goes black the second your head hits the pillow. 

Nearly two hours later Harry arrives home. He’s earlier than expected thanks to his afternoon meeting getting cancelled. You’re unaware of his return, still knocked out in his bed.

“Hi Mum, hey Gemma,” he says, walking into the living room where the two of them are watching a movie together.

“Harry! We didn’t expect you for quite a while, dear,” Anne replies.

“Last meeting was cancelled, apparently there’s a storm up north so half the team couldn’t make it. They’ll reschedule after the holidays. Is Y/N here?” As much as he enjoys talking with his family, he hasn’t seen you in over a month and doesn’t want to spend another minute away from you.

“Yea, she’s taking a nap in your room,” Gemma replies.

Harry sniffs the air before saying, “Hm, that’s odd,” and sniffing the air again.

“What is?”

“I can’t catch her scent.”

“She probably wore some strong scent blockers for the flight,” Anne reassures him, picking up on his shift from excited to worried.

“Probably,” he replies, but he’s not sold on that explanation. “I’m just gonna go up and check on her.”

He turns and heads upstairs, stopping in the bathroom quickly to wash his hands and splash some water on his face, before changing into a clean outfit he’d left in there earlier. He knows you’ve likely been bombarded with other scents during your travels and wants to make sure no strangers scents cling to him.

Once he’s sure he smells only of himself, he crosses the hall. He knocks on the door gently but enters slowly when he gets no reply. At first he thinks you’re sleeping. You look asleep, curled up in his blankets. But you don’t seem at rest.

Your breathing is rapid, not deep and even like it would be if you’re asleep. And he can hear the faint whimpers that indicate you’re distressed. He stands there for a moment, shocked at the state he found you in, but another whine from you kicks him into action.

He turns out of the room, shouting for Gemma to come upstairs. She runs up, hearing the edge of panic in her little brother’s voice.

“How long has Y/N been up here?” he asks, needing as much information as he can get.

“Maybe two hours. Why? What’s going on?”

“Did she seem like, upset at all? Or spacey or dizzy? Did she seem off in any way?”

“Not that I noticed. She was just really tired. Harry, what is it?”

“I think she dropped,” he replies.

It’s quiet for a moment before Gemma says, “You said she had to go off her medications right? And she’s been without her alpha for a month, so she has some intense touch deprivation. Plus, she’s exhausted from traveling to another country. Being in your space, which probably reeks of your scent, might have put her omega over the edge.”

Harry nods along, knowing his sister is probably right.

“I should’ve been with her. Gemma, I have no idea what type of drop this is! Maybe it’s a good one because she’s in my space, but she seems distressed.”

“Harry, take a breath. You know what you need to do right now. So calm down and be there for your omega. Would you feel better if mum and I left? Gave you guys some privacy?”

“I don’t want to kick you guys out.”

“Of course not. We have some last-minute shopping to do. We were just waiting until you came home. Go, take care of your girl. We’ll see you later. And call if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you Gems,” he replies. Gemma walks downstairs and Harry takes a minute to calm himself. He knows that he needs his emotions in check to be able to help you. Just as he’s confident that his feelings won’t negatively affect you he hears the front door close, indicating that the two of you are now alone in the house.

He walks into the room and finds that you haven’t moved. He first crouches by the bed, leaning close in hopes that you’ll notice he’s there and he won’t startle you. There’s no change so he starts to emit calming pheromones. This seems to catch your attention, and Harry watches as you subconsciously seek him out.

Now that you seem to know that your alpha is there, he climbs into the bed with you. He does so slowly, watching your reaction the whole time. He gently shifts you to hold you against his chest and angles your face so that your nose is against his scent gland. He continues to let out the calming pheromones which seem to be working, as you’ve stopped whimpering.

Harry gives you some time to stay under, but he’s fairly sure this is a bad drop, so he starts to bring you out sooner than later.

“It’s time to come up, omega,” he says. “Can you come back to me? I’d really like to see you. Been waiting so long.”

It doesn’t work right away, but after a few minutes of Harry talking to you, the haze of the drop starts to fade. Finally, your eyes blink open and meet his.

“There you are,” he says, his voice relieved.

“Alpha?” you say, still dazed and confused. Your body feels heavy, and you don’t recognize your surroundings. Everything feels strange, but you know that you’re okay, now that your alpha is there.

“I’m here, omega. I’ve got you.” You’re immediately soothed by his presence, and by his words. Your brain finally clicks on, and you fully realize that you’re in Harry’s room, in his arms. You begin to shift, Harry reaching out to make sure you’re steady. He realizes what you’re trying to do and moves as well until you’re situated in a way that you can both scent each other at the same time.

You sigh as his nose brushes against your scent glad before doing the same to him. It isn’t long before your scents mix together to fill the room.

“Are you alright, love?” Harry asks.

“I’m good, now that you’re here,” you truthfully reply, blushing at your vulnerable statement.

“I’ve missed you, so much,” he says before moving to kiss you. His lips move lazily against yours, and you have to swallow back a whine at the feeling of him against you.

After a couple minutes he pulls back and says, “Mum and Gemma are out. What would you like to do next? Do you want to sleep a little more, or eat, or take a shower?”

You think about it for a moment and reply, “Can we take a bath?”

“We? Together?” he questions.

You blush and say, “I definitely want to wash all the travel grime off me, but I kind of don’t want to leave your side. It’s that’s okay with you.”

“It’s more than okay with me, as long as you’re comfortable.”

“I am,” you say with a shy smile.

You both get out of bed, and Harry collects towels and clean clothes for both of you. He then fills the tub, pulling his shirt off so he can test the water without his sleeve getting wet. Your heart starts to race as you realize that you’re both about to see each other naked for the first time. For some reason you’re grateful that it’s in this setting, rather than a sexual one. It lessens the nerves, knowing that there’s no expectations here.

He slides off his pants, leaving him in boxer briefs. You do the same, then throw your shirt off as well before you can overthink too much. You weren’t wearing a bra, meaning your chest is now exposed to Harry. He takes a deep breath before saying, “You’re beautiful.”

Harry quickly shuts the water off and turns back to you. “We can stay like this if you’d like? Keep our underpants on?”

You shake your head no and your hands go to the waistband of your panties.

“Together?” you ask.

“Together,” he replies, and follows your lead, slowly lowering his underwear until you’re both standing there, completely bare. You fight off the urge to cover your body and hear Harry quietly say, “Absolutely perfect.” This compliment gives you the courage to look up, and your eyes quickly scan over him, briefly stopping at his groin. Your breath stutters as you take in his impressive size, and his smirks when he notices.

“C’mon,” he says. “Let’s get in before the water cools.”

He has you get in first, keeping you steady so you don’t slip. He slides in behind you and gently pulls you, so your back is resting against his chest. You feel his groin brush your skin, and tense for a moment before relaxing. You’re surprisingly comfortable with the whole situation.

You both stay like that, silently relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. Eventually, Harry says, “Scooch forward, let me wash your hair.”

He does so, first shampooing, then putting in conditioner, being extremely gentle as he does so. He then grabs a shower puff and spreads some body wash on it, before giving you a look asking if it’s okay for him to clean your body. You nod yes, and he focuses on rubbing the soap over your limbs and torso. He makes a mental note of the scratch marks on your skin, and frowns at how bad your touch deprivation must have been to cause this. He hesitates with his hand resting on your thigh. You open your legs slightly, silently giving him permission to clean between them as well. A gasp escapes your mouth at the feeling, but it only lasts a moment before he’s done and moving away.

Harry quickly washes himself as well, and by the time you’re both soap free, the water has become uncomfortably cool. He gets out and dries off first before helping you again and wrapping you in a fluffy towel.

Once you’re dry you both get dressed and head downstairs to watch a movie together. That’s how Anne and Gemma find you when they arrive home an hour later.

After talking for a few minutes Harry checks the time and gets up, saying, “I should really get started on dinner.”

“Want any help?” Anne asks but he quickly shakes his head and says, “I’ve got it, you girls relax.”

You last five, maybe ten minutes before you’re making an excuse to join Harry in the kitchen.

“Hey, you,” he says when you walk into the room. “Miss me?” he asks jokingly.

You chuckle awkwardly, not wanting to admit that he’s right. It feels clingy, but you’re still shaking off the drop, and the touch deprivation, and being away from Harry is physically painful. He picks up on this and immediately stops what he’s doing to focus on you. He pulls you in for a hug and whispers, “I missed you too.”

You stay in the kitchen with him, helping chop veggies for the stir fry. As soon as it’s ready the four of you sit together at the table. The food is delicious, because of course Harry’s a good cook on top of his other talents. After dinner is done and cleaned up you’re all back at the table with mugs of tea.

Though it’s not exactly late, you find it hard to keep your eyes open. Harry immediately senses how sleepy you are, and the two of you say a quick goodnight to Anne and Gemma before heading upstairs. You brush your teeth side-by-side in the bathroom, feeling very domestic. He hands you some of his clothes to wear to bed.

“I did pack my own clothes you know,” you say while changing into the ones he gave you.

“I know, but you just look so cute in mine,” he replies, his eyes soft as he looks at you in a pair of his pajama pants and an oversized sweater.

The two of you get into bed and Harry opens his arms for you. After getting comfortable together you quickly fall into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

Christmas eve, Christmas, and Boxing Day pass with lots of gifts exchanged, movies watched, games played, and meals shared. The rest of the week is both exciting and relaxing. You do a little work each morning before going on an adventure with Harry and then ending the day with a movie.

It’s wonderful getting to know Harry’s family and see where he grew up. People recognize him when you’re out in public, but it’s not like it would be in any big city. He’s not being swarmed by fans, but rather greeted by his neighbors who are excited to see him home for the holidays.

The two of you get invited to a New Years Eve party in London, and after debating for a bit you both decide to go, planning to leave early so you can ring in the New Year just the two of you.

You drive to the city early that day to settle into his home there and go out for a late lunch. His house is beautiful, and you’re stunned by how well decorated it is. You tell him this and can see the way he lights up with pride at your compliments. Somehow he doesn’t get spotted while you’re walking around London, so you guys get to enjoy an uninterrupted meal and a walk where he points out some of his favorite spots.

He senses you getting cold and immediately routes back to his house. You both shower and get ready for the party, dressing up more than you ever have together. You put on a sparkly green, long sleeve dress that falls to mid-thigh. This gets paired with your black heeled boots, opting for some comfort and protection in the footwear department. 

He’s wearing a pair of black slacks, and a silver top, buttoned halfway. The two of you spend a moment just staring at each other, completely at a loss for words. Harry’s first to regain his senses, saying, “You look absolutely stunning, omega.”

“Thank you alpha. You look very handsome,” you reply.

He walks closer, until his hands wrap around your waist, and he pulls you flush against him. You gasp at the sudden move, and he leans down to kiss you, his tongue slipping through your parted lips. For a few minutes you get lost in the feeling of him moving against you. Slick starts to leak into your panties, and the groan Harry let’s out tells you he can smell it. His hips roll harder against you for another moment before he pulls back. Both of you take deeps breaths, and you note how blown his pupils are.

You turn to walk back into the bedroom and Harry asks, “Where are you going?”

“I’ve gotta change my underwear,” you reply.

“Do you have to?”

“Yes, Harry,” you say through a laugh. “I can’t go to a party smelling like slick!”

“Sarah’s going to be the only other alpha there, I’m sure she won’t be bothered.”

“Harry, behave!”

“No promises on that.”

You roll your eyes playfully before walking away to clean yourself up. By the time you get back Harry has his coat on and is holding yours.

There’s still a hint of arousal in his scent and he says, “Are you sure we have to go? We could just stay here, get out of these clothes…” he trails off suggestively.

“Yes, we have to go. You already committed. We don’t, however, have to stay. So let’s go so we can make an appearance and then get back here and see what we can do about getting out of these clothes.”

Harry smiles at the confirmation that you’re on the same page as him. He helps you slip on your coat and the two of you leave the house.

Luckily the party is in his neighborhood so the two of you walk there. You’re greeted by Harry’s friends when you arrive, and immediately start to catch up with Mitch and Sarah. Harry never leaves your side, his arm always wrapped protectively around your waist. Some people may see this as a possessive alpha move, but to you it means safety and comfort.

You stay at the party for a couple hours before ducking out around 11PM. Harry continues to hold you close the whole walk back, and the air is definitely charged with a new tension. His scent has shifted slightly, a hint of spice added to his normal warm smells.

Once in the house you both calmly remove your coats and shoes, neither of you making the first move just yet. It’s like you want the tension to grow until you can’t stand it anymore. You take some initiative and walk upstairs to the bedroom with Harry following behind.

He finally breaks when you arrive in the bedroom, and he turns you to face him before crashing his lips to yours. You can’t hold back the whine of pleasure, and if the way he groans and tightens his grip on you is any indication, he’s a fan of the noise you make.

His hands start to move down your sides until they reach the bare skin of your legs. He starts to slide them back up, now going under your skirt as he moves to press kisses to your neck. You loop your arms over his shoulders and tilt your head to give him more room. Your skirt bunches as his hands make their way to the sides of your torso. In a show of strength, he lifts you up and lays you on the bed.

He crawls over you, and you reach up to unbutton the rest of his shirt and push it off. It’s your turn to slide your hands over his sides, loving the feeling of the smooth skin beneath your fingers. Harry places more kisses to your neck before moving down until he’s placing a kiss between your covered breasts.

You feel the slick coating your center, knowing your panties are absolutely ruined. Both of your scents are growing stronger, his becoming spicier while yours turns sweeter. It mixes together deliciously, and you could grow addicted to the smell.

“Can I take this off?” Harry asks, gripping the bottom of your dress in his hands.

“Yes,” you reply as you sit up slightly so he can pull it off of you. His breathing stops as most of your body is bared in front of him. His hand drifts towards your chest and he looks at you with a silent question. You nod, giving him permission to touch you. He doesn’t hesitate, and you moan as his large hands cup your breasts before his thumbs move across your nipples. You never knew just a simple touch could feel so good, but his hands are like magic.

He spends minutes focusing on your chest, first with his hands, then his mouth. You’re already a panting mess beneath him. When he pulls away your hands go to his waistband, fingertips sliding under just a tiny, teasing amount. Harry gets the message and quickly removes his pants, socks, and underwear. Your mouth waters at the sight in front of you.

He gets back on the bed and slides his hands to the last article of clothing covering your body. “Off, please” you say before he can even ask, getting tired of waiting and wanting nothing more than him inside of you.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath as he pulls the material down and off your legs. The smell of your slick becomes more potent, and you swear you hear Harry literally grown as he breaths it in. He moves back up your body and his lips find yours in a needy kiss. His fingers find your entrance and you keen as one slowly pushes inside. You continue to make out and opens you up to ensure you’re ready for him. At the same time, you reach out to grab his hard cock, gently pumping a few times.

Harry pulls away and reaches into the bedside table drawer to pull out a condom. As he’s pulling it on you have a moment of nerves. You’re not a virgin, but it’s been a while. And you’ve never been with an alpha before, and you can see by looking at him that there’s definitely truth about alphas being gifted in the size department.

Sending your new hesitance, Harry says, “Hey, you ok?” You nod, but he doesn’t fully believe you, so he adds, “We don’t have to do this right now. We can stop, or keep doing what we were doing, we don’t need to go all the way.”

“I want to,” you answer. “I want this. I want you. I’ve just never been knotted, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

He nods, expression serious, and says, “We can have sex without me knotting you. Is that what you’d like?”

“I’d like that. But will you feel, you know, satisfied?” The last thing you want is to get pleasure if he’s not getting to feel it with you.

“Trust me, I will be more than satisfied.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? Want to continue?”

“I do,” you confirm with a smile.

He leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. It’s soft, and sweet, a noticeable difference to the intense kisses from earlier. And it works to get rid of the last of your nerves. His hand moves back to your entrance, collecting some of the slick gathered there and coating his cock with it.

Harry continues to kiss you as he lines up and slowly presses inside of you. Once he’s fully inside he pulls back to look at you. Your eyes meet and there’s a moment of connection unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Not only does your body feel full, but your heart does as well.

“Alpha,” you say breathlessly.

“My perfect omega,” he replies.

After giving you a moment to adjust to his size he starts to move. The thrusts are slow at first, but he picks up pace. He grabs your leg to wrap around his hip, and the change in angle has you seeing starts.

It only takes a few minutes before you feel the familiar tingle in your core, and a press of his fingers to your clit send you over the edge. He works you through your orgasm and then pulls out. He removes the condom and wraps his hand around his cock. It only takes a few strokes before his knot expands and he comes, his release coating your chest and belly.

Harry gets up and grabs a towel to clean both of you off. You both get under the covers, and he pulls you to lay on his chest. He checks the clock and sees that it is two minutes past midnight.

“Happy new year, omega,” he says.

“Happy new year, alpha,” you reply as you drift off to sleep, comforted by his arms and the smell of your combined scents.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Thank you so much for reading! Probably wrapping up this story in a couple of chapters, so let me know if there's anything you might want to see!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz @fictionalmensblog @buckybarnessimpp @ottawaoutlander @storyschanging @jerseygirlinca @stylesfever @alwayslovingharry

[hollandsfavbabe]

Peter's Precarious Polyjuice Potion - part 1

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

synopsis: in which you and peter are forced to take extreme lengths to protect your secret relationship with the help of your shape shifting powers

warnings: a little suggestive language, lot's of fluff, lack of impulse control, extreme secrecy

word count: 5.7k

masterlist

a/n: Just a quick psa: this is the first of two parts! I tried to make it a one shot, but it was wayyy too long. There are some mentions of Harry Potter, obviously by the title, but no major spoilers and I want to make it very clear that I DO NOT support JK Rowling nor her transphobia. Trans women are women and trans men are men🏳‍⚧! That being said, I have another little surprise in the works that may have something to do with the wizarding world...

If you want to know what it is (and maybe get a sneak peak) comment your favorite character from the series and make a guess as to who you think mine might be. I'll reveal it with the next part of this series.

Thanks and enjoy!

Was there anything better than a chilly winter morning with the one you love most? Absolutely, a chilly winter morning with the one you love most and Harry Potter in the background. That’s all you could think of as your fuzzy sock clad feet padded across the campus floor. 

The festive season’s aroma invaded your senses as you managed to steal the first four films from your father’s extensive DVD collection without being caught, the cover of the first one glinting in the light that flooded in from the wall of windows encasing Avenger’s campus as you admired how young the cast used to look and made your way to your boyfriend’s bedroom.

Suddenly, the usual quiet of the campus in the early morning was disturbed by the sound of footsteps of another Avenger in the distant halls and using your powers you immediately concealed the DVDs into a stack of school notebooks and a folder of overflowing miscellaneous papers as a facade. It wasn’t unusual for you to use your gifts this way.

It was only five years prior during a mission in the Czech Republic that you were introduced to Peter Parker and while everyone had expected the two of you to get along as teens of the same age, no one knew just how close you and Peter really were. The rule had initially started at Stark Tower as a branch off of one of your father’s household rules: no dating superheroes. You thought he would be less strict as your life became centered around them, as did his, but you had no such luck. There was little chance Tony Stark would ever change the rules set for his little girl. So you were left to bend them instead.

While you and Peter seemed like close friends, you only started out as a platonic couple before your relationship escalated faster than either of you could’ve anticipated into something more fulfilling than you could’ve ever hoped for. Peter became your everything. Before you knew it, he was your rock. He was the first person you wanted to share a new dirty joke with or an unlocked childhood memory or even complain to when your father became too restricting. It was so much easier for the both of you to be together during high school. Being a college sophomore made your relationship much more complicated. Especially seeing as Peter stayed close to home at NYU and you left town to attend MIT (your father would never let you go anywhere else).

With campuses that were over a 4 hour drive away from each other, you and Peter only got the occasional three day weekend to spend with each other and that was only when you were able to evade spending time with your dad by making up an excuse as to why you couldn’t come home and held your ground until you had to eventually cave to his demands. The only time you and Peter really got together was during holiday breaks when you two could both be at the campus and sneak around like smitten teenagers all over again. With only three weeks, you were determined not to waste a single second with so little time, even if it meant using your shapeshifting ability to disguise wizard school movies as chemistry homework. What could be suspicious about two close friends sharing notes about stoichiometry?

You felt your heart start back up as Natasha passed you in the hallway instead of your father, shooting you a smile. 

“Morning, y/n.” she greeted pausing to look at your stack of folders with a look of confusion.

“Uhh, good morning.” you croaked, praying that there wasn’t some defect in your ability that allowed her to see a portion of the one of the movies you were disguising. Thankfully, your facade held.

“Homework? Really? This early on a saturday?”

You gulped as you nodded.

“You know me,” you forced a smile. “I’m actually on my way to wake Peter up so we can review together.”

“Good for you,” she nodded, impressed. “Breakfast should be in a couple hours if you two want a break. Try not to get bored!”

“Thanks?” You shrugged before continuing off to where you knew Peter’s room was, conveniently all the way on the other side of the building from your own. Soon enough you were at Peter’s door, turning the knob and entering without knocking, quick to shut it behind you to prevent anyone else from seeing how eager you were to ‘study.’ Surrounded by the comfortable closed walls of privacy, you let your platonic friend disguise fall and set the stack of papers on the edge of Peter’s bed.

Your boyfriend was still tucked beneath the covers, as was expected. You two had made your marathon plans ages ago and after losing several rounds of rock paper scissors, Peter’s room was made the place of the marathon meaning it was your job to wake him up. Overall you thought it best as you were more natural at lying (literally as you were aided by shape shifting powers) and a little more strategic when it came to social interaction and plotting.

You neared the stirring boy, his sleep disrupted by the clatter of the discs and the movement of his bed as you sat down to kiss him.

“Peterrr…” you whispered, hovering above him with an unshakable grin etched upon your face. “Wake up.”

You awoke him by placing a soft kiss on his nose and smiling down on him as he furrowed his eyebrows in aversion. It wasn’t until his eyes fluttered open that he grinned as he saw you and craned his head up to kiss you properly, his lips soft against yours, slipping a hand up from under the covers to cup your cheek.

“Morning.” he greeted, smiling affectionately as he sat up against the wall behind his pillow, pulling you into his lap so that he could kiss you once more. That was until he took a look at what you had brought, books and paper for studying. He cringed, pulling you closer and kicking up his covers in disgust.

“Oo no. I refuse to study on a Saturday. Can’t we save that for the last minute like every other time we’re together?” his lips turned into a sly grin as they neared yours once more.

You laughed as his complaint sparked many memories, most of you both tangled up together out of what started as procrastination, but ended up in unbridled desire that poured out after being built up each time you were away from one another for too long.

“Nice try, Parker. And here I thought we’d have a nice time today. Don’t you remember our plans?”

As you gesture to the folders and notebook on the edge of his bed they instantly shrunk back to their original form. All of a sudden, instead of the obnoxious red notes and blue folders filled with paperwork were the four DVDs with their easily recognizable covers that screamed nostalgia. Peter’s face lit up instantly, a mix of excitement and relief as his morning amnesia faded away. But even still, his seductive grin returned as he slid you further up his lap.

“We can’t start just a teeny bit later?” he teased, his fingers sending chills down your spine as they glided up the sides of your thighs. One of the downsides of how long you two had been together was that Peter knew exactly how to bend you to his will. “I think I’d rather spend our first morning together a little differently.”

He leaned in for another kiss, but instead of meeting your lips in the middle, his mouth was met with your finger as you pulled away and sat next to him, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek before shuffling into his comforter. It was by luck that your Stark genes made you extraordinarily stubborn and resistant to his persistence.

“Maybe later. Right now I am seriously craving a Hogwarts escape,” you lightly pushed Peter towards the DVDs, hinting that he would have to be the one to pop it into the reader. You teased him as he left his bed, grinning wickedly. “Besides, Harry’s wand is way bigger than yours.”

Peter’s head whipped around as the previews started to roll on the flat screen TV behind him that could be found in every resident room on the campus.

“Hey,” he pouted, though there was still enough of a smile left that you were sure he knew you were only kidding. He settled beside you, tucking an arm behind your head so you could rest on him as you normally did when you shared a room. “It’s hard to compete with 11 inches.”

After skipping through each advertisement for movies that had come out over a decade ago and finally selecting the play option on the movie menu, Peter planted a soft kiss on your forehead as the movie finally began and the familiar notes of the main theme played from the speakers.

“I think you should wake me up like this every morning.” he mumbled into your skin.

“I think that would be nice.” you agreed and nuzzled closer into him.

You two spent the entire first movie just like that, two nerds wrapped up in each other so close that you could hear each other's heartbeats, but so involved in the film that you didn’t get distracted by the distant pulsing of them.

“I think I'd make a great chaser.” you confessed during Harry’s first quidditch game.

“No, I think you’ve got it all wrong,” Peter argued. “I’d make a great chaser. You’d definitely be a beater. I mean legally hitting people off of flying brooms in a competitive wizard sport? If that isn’t right up your alley, I don’t know what is.”

“You’re right.” you agreed right before Harry crash landed into the sand, the golden snitch popping out of his mouth.

It was after the first movie that you started feeling peckish and by the way Peter squirmed to change positions every few seconds, you could tell he was feeling the same. Two hours awake without any food was an abnormal event for you and as a result your stomach was growling loudly. As you had other needs to attend to, you excused yourself and offered to grab the two of you something from the kitchen to snack on during the rest of your marathon.

“I’ll get it babe, you can stay in bed.” Peter offered, sitting up with you as you stood from his bed.

“That’s alright,” you assured him, handing him the disc to the second movie and the sleek black remote that controlled the monitor. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom so I’ll grab it on my way back.”

Peter laid back, his hands coming behind his head on the pillow as he eyed you on your way to the door. You smiled at him in confusion, wondering why he was admiring you so when all you were doing was fetching food.

“What?” you questioned, sliding on a sweatshirt over your pajamas.

“Sometimes I can’t believe we’re together,” he admitted. “You’re way too good for me.”

You giggled at his honesty as you moved towards the door.

“Are you still trying to sleep with me?” you teased.

“No,” he admitted, shaking his head adamantly. “...but I’m not opposed to the idea.”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you turned to leave, chuckling to yourself.

“I’ll be back soon. You can save the sweet talk for then.”

Though you couldn’t see his face, you could picture Peter’s smile as you shut the door behind you and meandered to the bathroom closest to the Avenger’s kitchen before starting towards the food.

As promised, the breakfast feast awaiting you smelled gloriously of hot buttered pancakes, sweet maple syrup, and so many other wonderful items. You prepared a lie to explain Peter’s absence as you entered the kitchen and grabbed a plate, when suddenly, the voice of your dad sounded from behind you.

“Ahh, y/n!” he startled you, causing you to drop your plate back on the stack of white porcelain where you had just barely plucked it from.

“Hi dad,” you forced a smile, turning to face him. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve been looking for you. C’mon, it’s family meeting time.” he stated casually. You realized then that the dining hall was eerily empty for a Saturday morning. The weekly buffet was normally packed with superheroes or at least a starving Thor. You furrowed your brows in confusion, never before having heard of any such meeting as you followed after your father.

“Family meeting? What about breakfast?”

“It can wait. I’ve got something we need to discuss.” you dad explained as he opened the tempered glass door to one of the many meeting rooms at the campus which was normally reserved for more professional causes.

“Okay. I’ll get Peter.” 

“No time, come with me. Peter’s not invited to this one.” your father informed you as he grabbed your arm, pulling you with him inside of the meeting room where every chair was already filled by various heroes who also resided at the campus. You gave a small wave to those who cared to acknowledge your arrival and wandered to stand in a corner at the back of the room while your father took up the front. From what you could tell, everyone else was as confused as you were. You pulled out your phone just before it commenced, giving you enough time to shoot Peter a quick text explaining your prolonged absence.

 I might be awhile

That’s fine. Take your time.

You fought the urge to smile at your boyfriend’s message as you slipped your phone into your pocket and looked up to your father who was commanding everyone’s attention.

“Thank you for coming, everyone. Really, I appreciate it.”

You recognize a feminine scoff from the right of the table, Natasha shaking her head, a fearful gesture from your main combat trainer. It was a general rule around the Campus, along with don’t introduce Steve Rodgers to ASMR: don’t get Natasha Romanoff angry unless you want to be dead.

“Cut the bullshit Tony. We’re all too tired and hungry to be here for longer than necessary. Get to the point. Why are we here?”

Others voiced their agreement and Tony put his hands up.

“Fine. I prepared a nice little welcome speech for you all, but I guess I’ll skip to my main point. You’re welcome by the way.”

Natasha rolled her eyes.

“The reason I’ve gathered you here today is to discuss a serious matter concerning one of our youngest recruits who I’ve purposefully made sure is not in attendance - ” he stated as he pressed one of the buttons on the controller to the meeting room monitor, the picture popping up on the screen of a face that was all too familiar to you with tousled brown hair and chocolate eyes. “- Mr. Peter Parker.”

Your heart stopped as you heard your boyfriend's name roll off your fathers lips. From a lifetime of knowing him you were sure whatever he wanted to discuss couldn’t be good. You tried your best to not look so shocked and managed to keep a neutral expression as you mirrored Bucky who did not care for the conversation whatsoever. In fact, his expression resembles that of someone who was desperate to deck someone.

“Ah yes! The Man of Spiders!” Thor called out, quite possibly the only Avenger who seemed to be not in the least bit irritated.

“Yep, that’s the one. Here’s the thing,” Tony began as you braced yourself. “It has been two years since he graduated high school. That means he’s had two whole years of college life to get out there and make some new connections, to be a kid! But instead he comes home late every night and is always so exhausted. He’s working way too hard. So I propose that we help our little spiderling find someone he can lean on and turn to. Someone who can really help him slow down and start to be himself. It’s time we help Peter get a girlfriend.”

Your eyes shot open as his words hit you, you had to force your hands to stay down and try not to react too much. You looked around at the reactions of the others, searching for someone who may agree with you, but much to your disappointment, no one seemed as against it as you were. It seemed the topic of helping Peter made the annoyance of the meeting more tolerable and many Avengers were nodding their heads in agreement. Thor especially as he hollered in his seat in clear support.

“Yes! Wonderful idea! A lady spider! Tis like those Midgardean movies that are so popular around this time of year! What do you call them? Wrong-Cons?”

Everyone looked around in confusion.

“Thor is referring to the movie genre of romantic comedies or rom-coms.” Vision explained. With the confusion cleared others started agreeing more.

“Yes, the boy needs a break,” Wanda concurred. “And I love a good rom-com.”

“He works too hard.” nodded Nat.

Others started muttering to their neighbors how they also agreed as you shook your head in utter disbelief.

You pushed off from your place on the wall, quickly gathering the attention of the others as you joined your dad at the front.

“Are you guys crazy?” you laughed nervously. “Peter doesn’t need a girlfriend! Yes, he can be hard on himself sometimes and I agree he needs a break, but that doesn’t mean you should try and shove something in his life that he has never shown any liking towards.” you explain, trying your best to sound as unsuspecting as possible. 

Here in the crowd of adults, you were only Peter’s best friend and you wished to keep them in the dark for as long as possible, especially considering your father forbid you from growing a closer connection to Peter.

To your surprise, another Avenger stood to back your point as the Winter Soldier himself took on the crowd.

“She’s got a point, Tony.” Bucky agreed.

“Yes! Thank you!” you smiled, gesturing at Bucky a little too excitedly.

“We shouldn’t force the boy into something if there’s no confirmation of his own interest,” the Winter Soldier restated, earning a nod of encouragement from you. “There’s probably a reason he hasn’t gotten a girlfriend and I think we should leave him to discover himself if you know what I mean.”

“No, no that’s not what I meant,” at once you started refuting his claim. “Peter’s not gay, he’s just not interested in dating.”

“So he’s asexual? Is that what it’s called nowadays?” Steve asked, his tiny notebook of modern definitions at the ready as he pulled a pen from the pocket of his flannel pajama bottoms. He too had only just woken up.

“No. I mean yes that is a real and valid sexual identity and some people don’t have a desire to be with someone romantically, but that’s not Peter. He’s interested, just not right now.”

“How can we trust that the Tiny Stark knows what she says of the Man of Spiders?” Thor quirked a brow at your claims. You nearly blew up at him as he asked, glaring at the rest of the room on the edge of insanity from the thought of them shipping off your boyfriend to be with another.

“I’m his best friend, okay?! And I know him better than any of you so I know for a fact that he doesn’t need a girlfriend right now!”

Your father grasped your shoulder gently, a weak attempt at calming you down.

“That was exactly my next point. You’re his best friend and you’re right. You know him way better than any of us.” your father agreed. You gave him a thankful smile, glad to finally have him on your side.

“Thanks, dad-”

“That’s exactly why you’ll be out intel and our connection to Peter in ‘Operation Pair Parker.’ That way he won’t suspect anything.” he interrupted with a proud expression.

You stared at him with wide eyes.

“You already named it!? You’re kidding right? You have to be kidding. You all know this is just unbelievably crazy right?” you asked the crowd.

“I don’t see a reason why not. It’ll be good for the kid to have someone.” Natasha disagreed and by the disapproving looks from the others, you could tell her opinion was shared by the majority.

“Exactly. See everyone gets it and we need you to carry it all out,” your father continued. “I already have a few people in mind that I can pair him with. The only reason to not to would be if you know something we don’t. Peter isn’t seeing anyone, right y/n?” your father eyed you, suspicious of your relentless attitude towards his thought out plan. You knew you couldn’t own up to it, the risk of discovery was much too great, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything you could do to shut down Operation Pair Parker.

“Well, I didn’t want to expose Peter since he’s only just barely told me-” you began, hardly believing the words were leaving your lips. “-but he has been seeing someone and I think it’s getting pretty serious.”

“Oh really? And who is this girl?” your father interrogated.

“Or boy.” Bucky added.

“It’s a girl,” you clarified, hurrying to think of exactly you could pin Peter’s secret relationship on without creating too much damage. “Her name is um, MJ!” you exclaimed as the name came to you. It was perfect too as she was one of your best friends and someone Peter could’ve easily hypothetically gotten with ages ago.

“You mean the overwhelmingly unenthusiastic girl that Peter has only ever talked about once?” You could tell by his raised eyebrow and narrowed eyes that Tony didn’t believe you, but there was still time to convince him. And you would do anything to end this scheme.

“Yep,” you gritted your teeth, letting out a fake laugh that you hoped sounded convincing enough. “That’s the one, good old MJ. You know what they say, opposites attract.”

Tony wasn’t fazed as the intensity of his suspecting expression lingered on.

“You sure he isn’t seeing someone he’s closer to? You’re not dating him right?” he questioned, reminding you of the age old rule. Under no circumstance were you and Peter allowed to see each other. No matter how many battles you had fought together nor how many times he had protected you from harm. Not even if the world was on the brink of collapse. Never.

“Yeah, you’re acting pretty suspicious.” Sam chimed in.

“Is something up, y/n?” wondered Nat.

You burst into nervous laughter as you thought of a plausible excuse and your web of lies deepened.

“Oh, you guys are too good. You’ve got me! I have been seeing someone.”

“I knew it! Lady Stark is with the Man of Spiders!” Thor pointed accusingly towards you.

“You did not know that.” argued Wanda as Thor had been the least suspecting of all the Avengers up until your false confession. It didn’t help that he was also the most gullible.

“No! No, no, not Peter,” you scoffed, choking out a laugh. “His name is um… Flash!”

Your face burned red as you realized who’s name had just slipped out of your mouth. Oh why hadn’t you said Ned? At least you actually enjoyed spending time with Ned. But as your father’s face shifted and your lie began to work, you knew it was too late to go back now.

“Flash? You mean that boy who’s been mean to you and Peter since you were kids?” your father knew exactly who he was through years of his name popping up in counseling sessions Tonty provided to help you figure out how to defend yourself in public without using your  powers.

“Yeah. He’s actually really nice once you get to know him and we’ve been together for a little while now.” you tried, changing your voice to match the same doting pitch it took on whenever you talked about Peter.

“Huh,” Tony pondered, but eventually shrugged the confession off as your lies snapped into place. He turned off Peter’s image on the monitor, leaving a blank black square in its place. “Well, in that case, the operation is off.”

“Alright, I guess that means I can go…” you smiled, ready to sneak off to finally grab some breakfast and more hidden moments with your real boyfriend.

“And date night is on!” Tony cheered unexpectedly.

Your eyes widened as your stomach dropped in realization of what you had just done. You and Peter were really in trouble now and it was all because you couldn’t admit the truth.

“Date night?” you repeated uneasily.

“To celebrate my children finding love, I want you both to invite your sweethearts over and we’ll have a big dinner so we can get to know them. Let Peter know he has to invite MJ.” specified your father which could only mean he expected you to invite Flash.

Oh shit. There was no getting out of it now.

“What a splendid idea.” deadpanned Vision who you could’ve sworn knew the truth about you and Peter as his room was next door. You almost glared at the android, but caught yourself.

“Yep, sure thing,” you grimaced, knowing that your lies would soon catch up to you. “And when is this whole thing supposed to be?” you asked, hoping it would be after the break so you and Peter could retreat to your separate schools instead of owning up. By then, you’d probably be able to come up with two break up stories so heart wrenching that the Avengers would understand why you would never want to date again.

“Let’s do tomorrow if we can. The sooner the better.” Tony proclaimed, pulling out his device from his pocket so that he could put the dinner into the following day’s agenda, scheduling it as a mandatory event.

You felt like you were gonna pass out.

��Great! I’ll just go tell Peter then. We’ll be ready!” you fake laughed as you walked off, truly dying inside as the crushing weight of what you had just done hit you.

Once you were out of sight of the Avengers (all of which started voting on what theme your dinner would be), you completely spaced picking up something to eat and sprinted down the hallway to Peter’s room. You stumbled in when you arrived, closing the door behind you and leaning on it, gasping for air from the rush.

“Hey baby,” Peter welcomed you back from his bed, lifting the remote to turn down the TV volume by a couple notches. “I hope you don’t mind, I started the second one, but we can totally rewind if you want…”

Confused by your lack of a reply, Peter looked at you and immediately sat up in bed, ignoring the film with a worry riddled face. The remote fell from his grasp and into the twisted sheets of his bed, never to be found again.

“Are you okay?”

You shook your head as you caught your breath, sliding down the door until you collapsed on the floor.

“No, Peter. Something terrible just happened and it’s all my fault.” you cried and curled to tuck your head into your lap. You weren’t quite to the point of tears, but it was enough distress to alert your boyfriend.

Peter sprung off his bed with a start, swinging his legs to the edge so that he could fully face you, but he was apprehensive about approaching your sullen form.

“Is it your period? Is that why you took so long? I knew I should have come to check on you…”

“No, I’m not on my period and I didn’t spend all that time in the bathroom. This is so much worse than that.” you lifted your head to speak so the words didn’t come out jumbled, but as soon as you had finished, your face returned to your lap.

Peter stood and neared you slowly, placing his hands on your forearms and squeezing you comfortingly as you lifted your head.

“I’m sure it can’t be that bad,” he assured you. “What is it?”

You inhaled deeply before rushing out a summary of the events that had taken place only moments before.

“Long story short, my dad was trying to hook you up with someone because he thinks you're so sad and lonely lately so I tried to get him off your back and now he thinks that you’re dating MJ and I’m dating Flash and we have to invite them to a big dinner with all the Avengers tomorrow.” you sputtered in one breath, gasping by the end.

“WHAT?!” 

“I KNOW!”

“How are we supposed to do that? I mean maybe MJ would agree if she were even in town… maybe, but we can’t invite Flash here!”

“I know!”

“Why didn’t you say Ned?!”

“I don’t know! That’s not the point, Peter. What I’m saying is that we need to come up with something fast.”

“I think we should just tell him.” Peter confessed, not one to share your disregard for the truth. Instead, he imagined a future where he could be more open with his teammates about the love you shared, maybe even rub it into Sam and Bucky’s faces as the three held a long standing rivalry since an opposing battle at a German airport. “Better fess up now.”

“NO! Peter, my dad will KILL US if he finds out we’re together!” you shut down his suggestion, too afraid of the consequences to even contemplate telling the truth. “We’ve got to come up with something better, I can’t let him win this.”

“Ugh, you Starks and your stubbornness.” Peter groaned. While he was well informed of your father’s rule, he didn’t understand why the two of you were so competitive, especially when it came to ethicality.

“I just wished there was a way we could pull it off without inviting either of them.” you pouted, staring off into the distance when the scene playing on the screen caught your eye.

The meeting had lasted so long that while you were gone, Peter had managed to watch up to Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s secret potion escapades in the abandoned girls’ bathroom.

“Add the hairs.” directed Hermione as the golden trio sprinkled the strands into their separate goblets of green sludge, so young in only the second film in the saga.

“You're right,” Peter sighed, his attention turning to the movie at the same time as you. “Things would be so much easier if we were wizards and could make Polyjuice Potion.”

Suddenly an idea popped into your head.

“Peter! That’s it! You’re a genius.” you exclaimed, pulling away from his hold and running across the room to his closet, flipping excitedly through his collection of colored flannels.

“Thanks,” Peter blushed, moving to sit on his bed once more. “Why exactly am I a genius this time?”

Your smile widened as you came upon it, Peter’s darkest flannel that distantly resembled something your dear friend MJ would wear. You pulled it on and discarded the hanger, throwing it haphazardly to another corner of the room as you looked at your boyfriend. You beamed at him as if you had just won the lottery. For a skilled liar, stringing together a new fake story was almost as accomplishing.

“Can I borrow this?” you asked.

“Of course,” Peter obliged. “You know how I feel about you wearing my clothes. Can I just ask why this in particular?”

“We can’t ask MJ or Flash to attend themselves so we’ll just have to become them instead!”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked.

You closed your eyes and concentrated, picturing MJ in your mind and spreading your arms out from your body as the familiar tingling sensation started and your body began to change from the will of your shape shifting powers. Before long, you began to resemble the quiet girl from your school. Your hair grew longer and curled into her familiar pattern as your jawline sharpened and your limbs lengthened until the girl standing in front of Peter was no longer his girlfriend, but the one and only Michelle Jones.

You opened your eyes that now resembled her dark brown ones and smiled at him, something MJ would never do. Peter’s own face lit up as he realized what you meant.

“That’s even better than Polyjuice Potion!” he grinned, watching you nod as you looked yourself top to bottom, satisfied with the extent of your abilities.

“I think we can make this work.” you stated, moving towards Peter who was gazing at you with admiration.

“You just need to master her facial expressions. MJ would never smile that much.”

You closed your eyes again and took a deep breath as you let your smile fade away to capture MJ’s unwavering neutrality.

“That’s perfect.” Peter complimented once you had mastered it. You chuckled out of pride as your usual smile carved back onto your face along with an affectionate look as you glanced at Peter. You leaned into him, lips at the ready to peck his perfect pretty face until you were stopped by his outstretched hands.

“What?” you questioned, unused to being denied by your boyfriend.

“As much as I would love to kiss you right now, you still look like one of our best friends.” Peter explained with reddened cheeks.

“Oh right.”

Quickly, you shook off your disguised form and shifted back into yourself. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed Peter and allowed him to pull you in closer by your waist, his hand sneaking up to meet the skin under his flannel. It seemed at last he would get to have his own rendition of a perfect first morning with you.

After a few moments, he lifted away from your lips with a heavy breath to ask, “Does this mean I have to be Flash?”

You sent him a guilty smile.

“Sorry babe, but we’ve gotta do what we’ve gotta do.”

part two out now!

[lunasdreamytreats]

Best kept secrets

Baizhu x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW // !PSUDO STEPFATHER/STEPDAUGHTER RELATIONSHIP! don't like, don't read // modern au // legal age-gap (Baizhu's in his late 30's, reader's in their early 20's) // drinking wine // reader calls their mother 'mama' // petnames (darling, little girl / good girl) // daddy kink (u call him it a few times and he calls himself it too) // mentions of drugs and aphrodisiacs // begging // oral (m+f receiving) // fingering // dumbification // bad writing (was still finding my writing style as i began writing and its not fully proofread)

Word count: 3.5k... (jeez i went crazy)

A/N: HBD MY LOVE 🥰 I love Baizhu sm, been planning this bad boy forever. Please enjoy and make sure to read the warnings carefully and lmk if I missed something ❤️

'How did this happen again?' You ask yourself as you accept another kiss from the man you knew as your stepfather. It feels so wrong, until you remember how your own mother is a cheating gold digger herself. Virtually your whole life up until a year ago had been on the move. Your mother would marry rich men who owned whole companies or company branches and either bankrupt them and leave or cause a scandal so they go out of business and leave. Over 19 years you’ve had a total of 10 stepfathers and you've never been really close with any of them.

As far as you know, the most recent one is the only one out of your stepfathers that has more than one source of income. He owns the only pharmacy in town while also working as a doctor. It must be taking longer to burn through it than normal, you thought, since you're still there.

You feel as if you should be grateful that your mother hasn't ruined it yet, because you've grown fond of life in this family. Your little sister Qiqi absolutely adores you as her big sister. Although your not sure if your mother knows about this, but your stepdad, Baizhu, absolutely loves being able to spend his money on you. Whenever you get off work he'll wait outside for you in the car with your favourite music ready to play. He'd drive around town with you for half an hour before going to pick Qiqi up from school. If you saw anything you wanted while driving, he'd tell you to quickly jump out and buy it with his card.

“Sweetie I don't care how much it costs if you want it I'll gladly get it for you.” Is what he'd say if you tried to protest in any way, in the end, you’ve just accepted it as him wanting to spoil you. Baizhu was very different to any of your other stepfathers, for one, he's making an effort to bond with you..... Oh and he's young, well, young compared to the others. At only 35 when they got married, he was 2 years your mother’s junior and 17 years your senior.

The 4 of you lived a fairly drama-free life up until tonight, when Baizhu came back home after dropping sweet Qiqi off at her best friend Yaoyao's house for her very first sleepover. He came in and asked you to come downstairs and sit on the couch, saying he needed to ask you about something important. You promptly closed the game you were playing and put the controller back, coming down to see Baizhu in the kitchen with a bottle of white wine and 2 glasses.

“Oh? What's the special occasion, Dad?” You asked before sitting back down with him.

“It's about your mother, (Y/N).” You froze slightly, wanting to ask him if anything bad happened to her. However, before you could speak, he placed one of the full glasses of wine into your hand.

"Do you know if she cheated on any of your other stepfathers, like any one of them?"

“Well I don't know for certain, but I've got a feeling she cheated on all of them, including my father.” You lifted the glass of wine up to the light and swirled the liquid around before continuing.

“Right when she leaves them, I found that either their companies crumbled, or they declared bankruptcy. Some less than 6 months after their wedding. It's happened way too many times to be a total coincidence.” Looking over at him, you saw a small sigh leave his lips as his eyes met yours. The low light of the lamps on the wall adjacent to him made his golden irises glow. ‘Oh fuck that's really pretty.... h-hold on a god damn second, that's your stepdad your talking about, dumbass!’ You quickly shook the thought out of your head and took a sip of wine to distract yourself.

“Why'd ya ask?”

“I saw your mother with someone and they were talking about how long until they can run off together....” You always had a feeling she had an accomplice her little scheme, but a whole ass lover all these years? Baizhu leaned forward in order to put the wine glass back on the counter and shifted to face you.

“Thank you for telling me this, my darling.” Eh why the lovey dovey language? He seems to be awfully calm for someone who just found out what a horrible person his wife is.

“Dad.... now that you've caught mama, when do you want us out of here by?”

“Hm? Why would I kick you out, darling?” Again with the darling! Is this really how fathers express their affection towards their children?

“I-I just thought since she's cheating on you, you wouldn't want her or her child arou-!” He's laughing? How? You thought he'd be annoyed. And yet here he is, not only not giving a toss about the current situation, he's laughing at it.... Why?

“Do you think I'd leave my cute, sweet little girl all alone without someone that loves her like I do? No no no darling. Besides, this is the best time to show you something that I've been planning this last year.” What could that be? You wondered. Come to think of it, from his plans for Qiqi's birthday party to things he's overheard at work, he's never kept anything a secret from you. He stood up and retrieved a piece of paper from inside a safe in the wall that he hid behind his back so you couldn't see what was written on it. As he sat back down, you managed to catch a small glimpse of the contents of the paper, you saw your signature there and what you can only assume is Baizhu's, both written in black ink next to each other at the bottom of the page.

'Oh! He must be holding the adoption papers we signed after the wedding'. You had another quick glance at the paper again before he folded it up and set it down on the table.... What?? You must be hallucinating because your pretty sure the words 'certificate of marriage' were at the top of the page. Hang on, if that's a marriage certificate, then why did you clearly see your signature next to Baizhu's?

“Did you see it, my darling?” Baizhu's words brought you back into the moment at hand, oh, that and his hand resting on your waist. The small gesture causing a shiver to shoot up your spine. “You’re my real wife. And you have been all this time.”

“How?” The reality of this situation hitting you like a boulder made your voice go hoarse, coming out like a broken cry. How was he able to hide something so big for so long? “How did I not notice it?”

“I'll be honest, I only got close to your mother so I could be with you, my darling. I knew what your mother was when I saw her, now she's the only one in the dark about it.” Baizhu's voice broke through the stifling silence around us. This is so weird, you’ve always thought your stepdad was a nice man, in personality, heart and looks. And you’ve told your friends about how you'd like your future partner to be like him. So should you go along with it?

“B-But what about the wedding night? Didn't you and mama have sex?”

“Nope, she ran off after the ceremony, I spent the night in your room.”

“W-what!? How the fuck did I not feel you?”

“Not when you've taken the deep sleep elixir I put in your food. I’d put it in whenever I knew your mother was going out for the night.”

“Oh, so that's why I hardly remember those nights.”

“Fuck, you're so cute when you don't know what to make of a situation, darling. I wonder what your reaction is going to be when I do this?” With no warning, Baizhu pulled you closer, onto his lap, and kissed your neck. The bold action made you gasp in shock. While you were distracted, he took the opportunity to catch you off guard again and kiss your lips. The kiss was just as he was, gentle and full of passion, yet demanding. Letting you know that although he’s being gentle, he’s still the one in control. He’s holding you so soft and tenderly, it makes this kiss feel like a natural part of life. Like your forgetting you two had a completely different relationship before...

That's how it came to you and your stepd- no, your husband making out in the open space of the living room. :)

'This isn't wrong. He's my husband.' You told yourself as you kissed him back. The grip his hands have on the flesh of your hips was so soft, as if he couldn't bare the thought of hurting you. Which, in a way, was true. He couldn’t bare the thought of being the reason you were in pain. As the kiss deepened, he felt more comfortable in exploring your body. His hands gently glide up your body before setting on your chest. His hands circle your body to where the dress zipper and bra clasp were.

As his arms pulled you closer, his fingers grazed the bit of exposed skin, making you shiver at the contact. Pulling away from your lips, Baizhu looked at you with love filled eyes and ran his finger over the neckline of your dress before hooking a finger on it and tugging at the fabric.

“My darling, can I?” He asked, rather breathless from the deep kiss. You could only nod in response until you find your voice. That was another way that Baizhu shows he cares, he was patient when you couldn’t get your words out. It was a thing you had struggled with for most of your life. And although it was a small gesture, it was something that mama never bothered to get right.

“Y-Yes daddy~” You managed to whisper a response, your head already felt dizzy and the neck kisses didn't help. Hearing daddy leave your mouth must’ve awakened something primal in him. With a newfound spark of lust in his eyes and a tightened grasp on you, his teeth grazed the skin of your shoulders. You reached behind your back to start unzipping your dress, only for your wrists to be pulled away and held back in one of his hands, while the other pulled the zip down slowly.

“Shhh~ darling, let daddy take care of you now.” An uncomfortable thought came into your head; ‘what if mama came back without warning to see her daughter, clothes slipping off, on her ‘stepdad’s’ lap making out with him?’ But don’t worry, Baizhu has a plan to deal with her if she comes back early. There’s no chance he’d allow this perfect moment to slip through his fingers again. After he pulled the zipper went all the way down, Baizhu started to gently draw circles on your newly exposed skin. The heat building up between your legs was getting frustrating, so you started to rub your clit on Baizhu's thigh to relieve yourself. Until he noticed and gently held your hips in place.

“Darling, I thought you’d let me take over tonight.. you know what happens to bad little girls that don't obey their daddies, don't you, darling?” Baizhu whispered, gently kissing the shell of your ear before continuing, “They. get. punished.” Taping your shoulder blade with each word. Each tap of his finger sent electrifying waves of pleasure down your whole body. You can’t help but lean into his touch, drunk on how quickly you crumbled under his teasing. One thing was for certain, however, the pleasure you felt was unreplicable.

“M'sorry daddy.. don’t punish me, I-I’ll b’good, please..!” You plead, hoping he’d be merciful on you. Since nobody can blame you for being needy. After a few minutes of drawing circles on your back, your dress and bra went flying off you, yelping when the cool air collided with your breasts. Smirking, Baizhu gave your hips a squeeze as his lips left a trail of kisses from your jawline down your chest, before latching onto the hardening nipple. Swirling around it with his tongue, he copied the motion on the other with his fingers, tugging whenever he sucked. All night, Baizhu had been focusing on giving pleasure to your most sensitive spots, like he already had a mental map of where he should focus on.

While your attention was taken up by the stimulation to your breasts, Baizhu let his free hand snake down, across your tummy to settle between your legs. One touch of his slender fingers to your puffy folds sent you jolting forward into his neck with a moan. Thing is, that one touch was only light, nothing much to most people. But to you? Mind-numbing. Actually, you don’t think you’ve ever been this sensitive to anything before.... it’s like your sensitivity to touch became enhanced. Could Baizhu have given you something to do this?

“You like that, don't you, darling? Good girl. Tell me, who’s making you feel this good?”

“Y-You daddy, s’you makin me feel good”

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” With every word, he swiped the pad of his thumb against the nub of your clit. Your hips subconsciously bucked into his hand with newfound lust. Like your body was chasing after his touch after he retracted his thumb. Baizhu's fingers ghosted over the outline of your clit, prodding at your hole. Easing the tip of his index finger inside while holding you steady. When your body relaxed, letting him know you were comfortable with him inside, Baizhu pushed you to the couch so you were laying on your back with him on top. The hand that’d been holding you steady now moved from your lower back to hold your cheek softly, catching any tears that fell over your eyes.

“Fuuck, you're clamping on me so tight.. I’ve barely even started with you, never thought a little foreplay would be all it takes to get you begging for me so soon, darling.” Don’t mind him though, he’s just being all mean and teasing you! He began slowly moving his finger in and out, slightly curving it to graze your soft inner walls. He added a second finger gently, stretching them apart in a scissor motion and continuing to touch places you couldn't dream of being able to touch on your own.

“Fuuck~ ur fingers~ s'deep!” It almost felt uncomfortable, keyword almost. The tender kisses Baizhu left along your body made any kind of discomfort you felt fade away. That is until a strange feeling came creeping into the pit of your stomach. A twisting and churning sensation like a knot threatening to make your insides explode.

“Ha~~! A-Ahh! D-Daddy, feels weird..!”

“Oh? A weird feeling, you say? That's your orgasm building up, darling.” His thumb quickly swiped against the sensitive nub of your clit, “Now be a good little girl and cum for me...” Your eyes peeped open at his words, only for stars to invade your vision as the knot came undone over his fingers and the couch. Your fucked out expression caused Baizhu to smirk in satisfaction, taking pride in being the only person to ever make you orgasm; other than yourself, of course.

“Good girl... ” Baizhu glanced down to where you both connected, taking note of how his wrist was now slightly wet... Did you squirt over him? Or was it sweat? This encounter certainly left you catching your breath.. Your body twitched sporadically as your walls finally began to relax around his fingers, and you sighed in satisfaction. Feeling you come down from your high, Baizhu gently pulled his fingers out, awestruck at your essence which was now dripping down his digits.

“Daddy... love you” You reached your hands out and Baizhu took them in his own, helping your sit up and kissing your knuckles softly.

“Love you too, darling. Cuddles?” He asked, holding his arms out so you could come to him if you wanted. You practically jumped up and slid into his lap, burying your flushed face into his shoulder. ‘Oh, you’re the type to get all cute and cuddly after sexual encounters...’ Baizhu thought, but that’s fine, he’d give all the cuddles you could ever need if you asked. You feel him gently smile on the top of your head alongside wrapping his arms around your middle.

Of course, with all that Baizhu’s done for you tonight, you couldn’t just ignore how hard this encounter made him. His dick throbbed against the cloth holding it back, simply begging for him to do something to relieve it.

“Daddy, lemme help, wanna help it..” You attempted to slip off his lap to kneel between his legs, fully prepared to help him. But he tightens his hold on your body, preventing you from moving much.

“No darling, y’can help me from here.” Baizhu reassured, moving the fabric that concealed his cock out the way. It bounced back against his abdomen, splashing a little precum over his stomach. Your eyes widened, you’ve seen dicks before, (in sex-ed class), but nothing like this. His dick was much bigger than anything you ’ve seen, and certainly bigger than you think you can take. Noticing your unease, Baizhu gently took your wrist and brought your hand to touch it.

“Lemme do it with you, darling... help me feel good too, yeah?” With one arm still holding you tightly, Baizhu’s other hand joined yours, guiding you in jerking him off. Even under two people’s grips, his dick still twitched and pulsed against your hand. Biting your lip, you lean your head down to press small kisses and kitten licks to his swollen, red tip. You looked up at him, still with his tip nestled snuggly in your mouth, eyes trying to convey what you want; for him to use your mouth like a fleshlight.

At first, poor Baizhu didn’t know what to say; he didn’t want to lose his composure and ram into you so hard that it became more uncomfortable than pleasurable, but the look in your eyes conveyed that you were actually begging him to lose it. He let out a long, shaky breath before moving the hand that had been on his cock to hold your hair out of your face. He didn’t even realise he was holding his breath...

“Tap my thigh twice if it gets too much for you, ok darling?” You nodded and began easing more of him into your mouth. He almost couldn’t think straight with just his tip in your mouth, but seeing you slightly struggle to fit him in drove his size kink mad. Baizhu’s fingers raked through your soft hair before setting at the top of your neck, taking control back from you and moving your head along his shaft.

Muffled whimpers and gags mixed with Baizhu’s groans made it easy to lose oneself in ecstasy, so you never noticed the small commotion happening on the other side of the door; never noticed the amused smile on your lover’s face upon realising the trap he and the millelith set achieved it’s intended outcome. Not that you were meant to know about any of this anyway...

“Sh-! Shit, on your knees, darling” You nodded and slid his cock out of your mouth to get into position, obediently for your husband. Baizhu rose from the sofa, guiding his dick back into your mouth as soon as you settled down. This time, he allowed himself the chance to thrust his hips into your mouth, meeting the pace you originally set. His thrusts started slow and deep, becoming more desperate as the pleasure built up.

“god.. m’gonna cum darling” Baizhu’s hold on your hair tightened, pulling at the strands that were wrapped around his slender fingers. He had to lean against the nearest cabinet since his thighs were twitching so much, his legs might’ve given out on him. You have to say, Baizhu’s groans of raw pleasure were a melody you’d never get tired of hearing. Baizhu abruptly pulled out from your mouth, gently taking your hand off from his thigh to place it on his heavy, aching cock.

“Finish it off, darling.. y’did so well, wanna cum on your pretty face..” You nodded and dragged your hand across his dick, feeling the way the large bulging vein running along the underside of his shaft throbbed with need. You leaned a little further up, enough to press your lips against the sensitive skin just underneath his tip. Baizhu’s grip on your hair tightened as his free hand grasped his cock, giving it a few languid pumps.

“Keep still, sweet girl,” He could barely get the words out before the tight coil inside his slender body snapped. Creamy white cum painted your face in spurts and globs, a testament to the adoration that Baizhu had harboured for you for so long.

[syoish-aot]

"I Found You" - Reader/Eren reverse isekai - PART 3

word count: 1022, still rated T [updated June 27]

<- PART 2 | PART 4 ->

*********

“Eren’s acting weird today.” You tell Jean, an hour later and shortly after arriving at the restaurant. It was the soft opening of Niccolo’s bar, and he’d invited all of his friends to try out the menu and get day drunk.

To all of your friends, it seemed like the perfect way to spend a Saturday.

The bar was right in the middle of downtown, split into two levels with a more fancy dining area and a patio upstairs, and the casual bar in the lower level. Niccolo had been working for years to open it, and everyone was beyond excited that his dream had finally come true.

You wished you were more in the mood to celebrate. Unfortunately, all you could do was run your weird morning through your head as you thought about Eren.

About how he was being so… well--....

“He’s always weird.” Jean dismisses your comment with the casual wave of his hand as he takes another sip of his beer from where you’re both standing, leaning against the bar as you look out at the restaurant.

“I’m being serious.” You reply.

“So am I.” Jean shrugs.

When you don’t reply to the obvious ribbing from your friend (something that would normally get you caught up in at least five minutes of back-and-forth banter), he looks over at you. Jean clears his throat. “What happened?” He asks.

“I think he had another nightmare that really fucked him up he-” you sigh, “he totally forgot about today and the whole drive here he was just staring out the window, not saying a single thing. He’s been raving about the restaurant opening for months and now it’s like he completely forgot it was even happening. It’s just-... It’s reminding me of third year, I guess.”

“What do you mean?”

You begin fiddling with the sleeve of your dress. “Remember that morning he had just... disappeared.”

It was back when most of your friend group was still in university. Back then, Eren and Armin were sharing a dorm and one night Eren vanished. All day, no one knew where he was. He’d left his phone, keys, and wallet at home and hadn’t told anyone he was going somewhere. He’d missed class, practice, and the plans the two of you had made to meet up for lunch.

You were ready to put in a missing persons report when that evening he just-… came back.

Around 7pm, he walked back into his dorm acting completely normally. He said he needed some time away from everyone and think about something, but as he said it he had this look in his eyes. A look that… you weren’t sure what to make of.

The same look he’d had only a few hours ago; after he released you from where he’d pinned you to your bed.

“Yeah...” Jean agreed as he swirled his drink in his glass and stared down at it in deep concentration.

“It’s just reminding me of that.” You say. “All morning he was so stiff and awkward. He said it was just a bad dream messing with his head but he-... he didn’t know who I was, Jean. He knew who Armin was though. And you. Sasha, Connie, Reiner, Annie, Mikasa, Marco, Ymir- literally everyone but me and I-”

Then Jean starts choking on his drink.

“Jean!” You exclaim as you move the drink from his hold and place it on the bar, patting his back with your other hand.

“It’s-” he manages before another cough, “It’s nothing!” Jean coughs again. “b-bye” He status as he pushes away from the bar, still trying to clear his throat. “Armin-”

You’re left there, alone at the table with only Jean’s beer for company. Completely confused as you watch him push through your group of friends in search of Armin.

You’re somehow left even more confused than ever.

And as you glance across the restaurant, Eren is nowhere to be seen.

***

Armin looked different than he had before.

Sure, he still had the same blonde hair and wide blue eyes; but the way he was looking at Eren reminded him of the little boy in Shiganshina, wishfully rattling off facts about the outside world.

There was life to him, Eren realized in an instant.

There was life.

“Eren,” Armin laughed. “You really are spacey today.”

“Sorry…” Eren mumbled, unable to look away from his best friend as he recalled the last time he’d seen him: when they’d sat together in a pool of blood and Armin had held him tightly, crying about how they were both irredeemable monsters.

“What’s that look for?” Armin asked him with another laugh.

“You’re… You’re here.” Is all Eren can manage to say. 

“Oh no.” Armin sighs. “Did you already get to the champagne? It’s barely even two in the afternoo-”

“Where’s Mikasa?” Eren suddenly asks. He hadn’t seen her yet.

He had seen plenty of other people he knew, which made him do a double take as he entered the restaurant and everyone greeted him like nothing was wrong.

Like hadn’t recently killed 80% of humanity and led to the deaths of plenty of the people in the large restaurant.

Like he was meant to just be here and some-... some party or something.

Honestly Eren wasn’t sure what the event was; but that wasn’t important, what was important was finding Mikasa. 

“Eren are you feeling alright?” Armin asks, pulling Eren out of his thoughts.

“Where are we, Armin?” He asks bluntly.

“Um… fourth and center street?”

“No. I mean-...” Eren looks away from the restaurant and back at Armin. He has to know what’s going on, right? “We said we’d-... you and I promised. We promised we’d meet in hell. Is that where we are? Are we... Armin, are we in hell?”

Armin’s eyes widened as the playful twinkle of life that had been in them before completely vanished. “Eren you-”

“Armin!” Suddenly Jean was at their sides, he grabbed Armin by the shoulders and shook him. “It’s Eren he’s- he’s-”

Armin finished the sentence for him as both of their eyes fell to their friend:

“Eren’s awake.”

[aftgficrec]

Favorite Neil/Jean or Neil&Jean fics?

In the aftermath of the publication of The Sunshine Court the relationship between Neil and Jean has been put under the spotlight a little more (no spoilers here though!), but there have always been authors who have shown this combo the attention it deserves. In addition, many fics under our raven!neil tag feature friendships or relationships between Neil and Jean. - S

Previously recommended:

Neil Josten & Jean Moreau:

close friends Neil & Jean here

BFFs Jean & Neil here

Neil/Jean tumblr fics and headcanons here

‘Afterthoughts Chapter 68’, ‘Jean, Neil, and Kevin hanging out’ here (plus some more Neil & Jean under previous recs)

‘not very good at this’ here

Neil Josten/Jean Moreau:

Neil/Jean fics here (you can also find a link to our Neil/Jean tag here)

More Jean/Neil fics here

‘we’ll survive, you and i’, ‘Heart on Your Sleeve, Eyes on the Street (the Heart-Eyes Remix)’, and ‘Doves & Ravens’  here

Some of our favourites from previous posts:

Your humble and silky life by moonix [Rated G, 3582 words, complete, 2019, locked]

Jean’s life these days is quiet, uneventful. His best friend has a hopeless crush on the unattainable Minyard, Jean’s colleague at the botanical garden. Jean has a standing appointment every week with the most beautiful woman in the world, who is happily married to someone else—but that’s okay. There’s still Jeremy the waiter, whose smile is the highlight of Jean’s week.

tw: animal death

Black As Is The Raven, He’ll Get A Partner by nekojita [Rated E, 644156 words, complete, 2018]

When Wymack, Kevin and Andrew came to recruit Neil Josten in Millport, Neil decided to say 'no' instead of 'yes' to joining the Foxes and does what he does best, which is run. Unfortunately, that brings him to the attention of the Moriyamas, who return him to his 'rightful' place. Now Neil has to learn how to survive at the Nest with his only ally another 'asset' long kept under Riko's heel.

tw: violence, tw: rape/noncon, tw: dubcon, tw: blood, tw: panic attacks, tw: drug use, tw: alcohol, tw: minor character death, tw: homophobia, tw: involuntary outing

Apart from Your World (A Part of Mine) by ApprenticedMagician [Rated T, 17647 words, complete, Aftg Big Bang 2018, locked]

David is shipping him off to the Isle of Anglesey and, frankly, Neil could use the time and distance away from an ugly break-up that still hasn't smoothed over. The problem is, if he isn't being reminded of his ex (courtesy of working alongside his identical twin brother), then he's being reminded of the mother who abandoned him (courtesy of their assigned patient who suffers the same affliction she once did). All around, it's shaping up to be anything but the trip he signed up for.

tw: references to past abuse

NB: find art for this fic by @llheji here

So Keep Your Heart On Your Sleeve (And Keep Your Eyes On The Streets) by CasTheButler [Rated T, 4162 words, complete, Aftg Winter Exchange 2018]

Cause it's a God damn long drive fall, Back to normality. Jean starts at a new school on a new soccer team, makes some friends, and spends the whole time falling in love with a punk. Written for the 2018 AFTG Winter Exchange.

tw: panic attacks

And here are some fics we haven’t rec’ed yet:

Neil Josten & Jean Moreau:

Je crois en la chance de rejoindre la mer by Elyant [Rated T, 2007 words, complete, 2021, locked]

Part 4 of The Devil Makes Three

Jean has chosen the café whose tables were closest to the large windows overlooking the tarmac. After spending so many years underground and under the harsh fluorescent light of the Nest, he doesn't think he will ever have enough of the natural warmth of the sun. A duffle bag of clothes that are too new to feel like his, the tin of home-baked cookies Renee thrusted into his hands before he left, and a small package wrapped in kraft paper are his only baggage.  He's waiting for a plane from London to land because of a phone call he received a few nights before. He is therefore purposefully two hours too early for the flight that will take him to South California, to meet the team in crimson and gold that will become his family, even if he doesn't know it yet.

tw: implied/referenced abuse

from rain by ratbandaid [Rated T, 62807 words, complete, 2023]

Over time, Jean grew unsure as to why he'd been so intent on running from the mafia. He barely took care of himself and could hardly call whatever he was doing living. After all, he knew that one day, he'll be caught and dragged back, kicking and screaming, to be killed or worse: put back in the hands of Riko Moriyama. But when a snot-nosed, cocky brat, Neil, stumbles into his life, Jean slowly realizes what he's running for.

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: violence, tw: nightmares

based on this art by @estavs

NB: This one contains slight spoilers for The Sunshine Court:

epic understatement by LadyTimelessness [Rated T, 335 words, complete, 2024]

he's pissed off that jean had to go through this. they're basically nothing to each other, but damn it, neil wants to crack grayson's skull open that second. faith in the world finally burns out in the fire of disillusionment.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced murder

Neil Josten/Jean Moreau:

Skip the Last Dance For Me (the Trojan Horse remix) by justadreamfox [Rated T, 3572 words, complete, Aftg Remix 2020]

Neil and Jean are free of the Nest, and wearing the Trojan red and gold, but they've still got "normal" life to navigate and friendships (past and present) to juggle. Really, sometimes you just want to be alone with your boyfriend.  Ft. Exy, pizza, and Steven Spielberg.

Nothing Mattered Until You by Lostintheuniverseslies [Rated M, 22497 words, complete, 2023]

On the docks in Marseille, Neil fell in love. But his mother ripped him away and for years he never dared hope to see Jean again. He believed that he would die before ever getting the chance. But when recuperating with his uncle after his father is killed, Neil's chance comes. Unfortunately, he isn't the only one who went through some horrible things over the years. Despite their horrible pasts, they decide to try for a future together. Going to college and even making some friends along the way. But Riko has other plans and wants back what he considers his.

tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced domestic violence, tw: stalking, tw: harassment,  tw: dissociation

It's Friday, I'm in love by Greenfallleaves [Rated T, 5834 words, complete, 2023, locked]

The day Neil had found himself pushed into the strong chest of their school’s new student Jean Moreau had been one of his luckiest in hindsight.

Hold my breath in your hands by Greenfallleaves [Rated G, 2154 words, complete, 2023, locked]

Adapting to the world outside the nest hadn’t been easy for either Jean or Neil but now that they had had a few years to get used to it, they got to complain about (i.e. enjoy) spending quality time with their friends.

sleep notes by nanatsuyu [Rated T, 2928 words, complete, 2024, locked]

Neil smokes a joint and discusses the possibility that Kevin is an honest to God vampire.

tw: recreational drug use, tw: implied/referenced abuse

A kiss while someone watches by @stabbyfoxandrew [tumblr, 2024]

Nathaniel never really saw the point of kissing until he was brought to the nest. Or rather, until the first time Jean Moreau backed him up against the wall of their shared dorm during an argument.

Art

Jean & Neil by @ziegenkind094

Raven!neil au - napping by @dawnatlas 

Raven!neil au - partners by @dawnatlas

‘Stitch by stitch, tape and gauze…’ by @dawnatlas

two by @02511213942

Neil and Jean find an empty pool at night by @aminiyard

i believe in jean moreau supremacy by @caraleadraws 

secret santa gift for @nekojitachan by @aminiyard

Hello sunshine court by @estavs