#Every day I make the tags longer than the post

[dancethroughthethunder]

Been There, Done That

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 7.6k

Summary: The residents of Jackson keep trying to tell Tommy they think there’s something going on with you and Joel but he’s not buying it. Tommy doesn’t blame them, he spent over two decades trying to get the two of you to admit your feelings for each other, and that was before the outbreak.

Author’s Note: My first ever Joel fic. This one has bounced around in my brain for quite a while, and I really have to thank the very kind commenter on my WIP list (not sure if they want to be tagged so I won't) whose kind words encouraged me to wrap and post this. My sweet, soft Joel Miller and a mischievous cast of folks in Jackson. This work can also be found here at my ao3. I hope you enjoy! Divider below credit to @saradika-graphics :)

You’re out on patrol with Joel, Jesse, and Cat walking through Teton Village. In a mile or so you’ll split off with Cat to the west while Jesse and Joel go east. For now, you’re all walking alongside your horses, giving them a chance to rest before riding ahead further. Cat is in the lead with you and Jesse in the middle, and Joel bringing up the rear just a few steps behind you. 

Compared to you and Joel, Jesse and Cat are still newer to patrolling but they’re no longer considered in training. Still, Jesse can’t help but to glance over at the two of you every now and then, making sure to follow your lead, while still maintaining an active view of his surroundings. He’s trained and patrolled with Joel enough to know just how good his situational awareness is, and how it puts him a step ahead of some of the other patrolmen.

Luckily, it’s been an easy patrol so far – there’s been no signs of infected or other people, and yesterday’s patrol didn’t turn anything up either though. two days ago someone noted some tracks. Your guards are still up, but you’re able to chat while you’re going, there’s no need for complete stealth and silence right now.

“So, Jesse, how’s Dina?” Rolling his eyes, he knows even before he turns to look at you that you’ve got a shit-eating grin. 

“I’m pretty sure you know as well as I do since you ate breakfast with her right before we left.” It’s all good natured as Jesse tries to deflect away from what you’re really asking.

“Oh, I’m not sure I know her as well as you do.” You joke.

“Alright, give the kid a break.” Before Jesse has a chance to reply, Joel catches up to you and takes your hand in his. At first, Jesse thinks that maybe Joel is trying to get your attention, or lead you somewhere but he’s shocked when he realizes that he’s just walking alongside you, his hand in yours.

He’s trying not to stare but it shocks him. Joel’s not exactly the affectionate type, but here he is with his left hand in your right, like it’s something he does every day. Neither of you seem bothered by it, and Jesse doesn’t want to make it weird so he just offers Joel an amused “thank you” for stopping your line of thought and keeps walking. 

About half a mile later, when you pass the library, you make a big show of wanting to go inside and grab a book.

“I don’t think so.” Joel interrupts.

“Oh come on, the weight of one book won’t make or break me.” You look up at Joel with a look as sweet as honey.

It’s clear you’ve had this conversation before as Joel as he fixes you with a look but doesn’t say anything. You both continue walking, it’s clear that if you really wanted to take off towards the library, you could, and it’s equally clear that Joel could tug you away if he wanted. But neither of you do. It’s a practiced song and dance between you two and Jesse watches as a smile starts to break through Joel’s attempt at looking stern.

“I’ll stop on our way back.” 

“I figured you would.” Joel says, and it’s the softest Jesse’s ever heard him sound. “Cat, don’t let her grab more than two, y’hear?” 

Cat just silently nods at the direction, and when you lock eyes with Jesse, you’ve got a mischievous look in your eyes. Jesse makes a mental note to check later – he’s almost sure that look means you’ll be returning with no fewer than three books. (You come back with five.)

Not long after that, you and Cat prepare to part ways with the guys. Jesse’s not sure when you and Joel stopped holding hands, but then again after the initial shock, it did sort of make sense for him too. He’s always assumed there was something going on with you two even though you’ve always sworn you were just friends. Hell, he’s even talked about it with Tommy. He’s looking forward to telling him this latest update later. 

“Alright, watch each others’ backs. Just because we haven’t seen anything come from those tracks doesn’t mean there’s nothing out there.” Joel tells you and Cat.

“I know. You do the same.” 

You and Joel exchange a quick nod, and Jesse does the same with Cat. Then you split one way while he and Joel go the other way. They don’t see you for the rest of the afternoon, but that’s expected with the way your routes diverge. Aside from one clicker that Joel takes out, it’s an incredibly calm patrol. 

As they enter the gates, Joel offers to sign Jesse’s gun back in with his own and take the horses. Jesse hands the gun and reins over before heading to Tommy’s office. It’s partly a chance to update him on how patrol went, but it’s mostly a chance to gossip while Tommy takes a look at some blueprints he’s been working on with Joel.

“So how was patrol?” Tommy asks after a few minutes of idle gossip, turning his focus back to his work. 

“Good, we followed up on those tracks that were spotted the other day, found one lone infected that Joel took out. Other than that, nothing out of the norm.” Jesse subconsciously stands a little straighter as he delivers this mini-report, his mind in business mode. 

Tommy doesn’t have much more to ask, he’ll get any details from Joel later and he trusts that if there’s anything to know immediately, one of the four of you would have already told him. Jesse’s a good kid and good on patrol, if he says it was all good, it was. So Tommy just nods and hums his approval.

“Tommy, they were holding hands.” Jesse says, sitting down and finally dropping what he thinks is going to be the biggest piece of gossip of the day.

Tommy doesn’t even bother looking up, “Were they near the old library?” 

“Well yeah, how’d you know?” Jesse’s eyes widen with surprise. How could Tommy possibly know that? 

“She’s always been a big reader, kid. Back in the day they’d go to the mall with Sarah, and Joel would have to practically drag her away from the bookstore before she could buy everything. Now it’s as much an old habit as it is practical. She can only carry so many books back on patrol.” 

“I’m telling you,” Jesse shakes his head, “they kept holding hands after they had walked past.”

“Joel was probably giving her shit about her running back to the library, and she was probably giving it right back about being tempted to do it.” Tommy shrugs. 

“Alright, if you say so.” Jesse wants to argue that he knows what he saw, how the two of you looked, but he gives up. Tommy’s just as stubborn as Joel and it’s easier to let it go. 

“Trust me, kid. They’ve been like this for decades. You’re not the first person to tell me you think something is up with them. I spent years thinking the same thing. But on a more interesting note, what’s this I hear about you and Dina getting back together again?” Tommy smirks, finally looking up right at Jesse.

“How the fuck could you possibly know that already? How does everyone know?” Jesse sighs exasperatedly while Tommy laughs. 

The two men spend the next hour together, talking and working as Tommy starts walking Jesse through what he’s been doing. Jesse is focused on the work but at the back of his mind, he’s still considering what he saw on patrol. The instinctive way that Joel grabbed your hand, the way it didn’t even phase you.

Sure, you were near the old library and you did joke about getting books but you didn’t look like you were trying to head there, and it didn’t look like Joel was trying to lead you anywhere, he was just trying to be with you. Frankly, it was quite a sight: big, bad Joel Miller, strapped with at least four weapons, eyes constantly scanning his surroundings and one hand softly holding onto you. What kind of trust that must entail to tie one hand to yours, knowing that’s a few extra seconds before it could reach for a weapon. Jesse loves Dina, he really does, but he’s not sure that he’d hold her hand on patrol. Not when it could be by his side, ready for action.

But, he figures, you and Joel are old hat at patrolling together. Everyone knows that you and Joel have been best friends since way before the outbreak, back to your school days. He’s seen the way you two move as one, so maybe those few seconds aren’t as concerning, as necessary. Maybe it’s an old habit, of a friendship from a lifetime ago. Besides, Tommy’s known you his whole life, has had decades of seeing you two together. Maybe he’s right, but if he isn’t, Jesse won’t wait to say I told you so. 

Just like he told Jesse, Tommy is so used to having to tell people no, you and Joel aren’t an item that he doesn’t even think to mention it to anyone. It’s old news, not even worth a mention to Maria at the end of the day despite the other gossip he passes along. He doesn’t give it another thought, not even when he’s thrust into a similar conversation with Eugene at the Tipsy Bison a few days later. 

“So, guess who I saw leaving your brother’s house early this morning?” Eugene asks as Tommy slides up next to him at the bar. 

“Do I even want to know?” Tommy asks with a groan. Joel’s really not as much of a ladies man as the gossip mill wishes he was, but he has been known to go on a date here or there. Still, as far as gossip comes, Eugene’s a pretty reliable source. 

Eugene doesn’t say anything, he just looks at Tommy as if to say, come on, guess. After a moment of silence, the look morphs into one that seems to indicate you’re not this dumb. I know you know who. 

“Oh come on, you can’t seriously tell me that even you think there’s something going on with them?” Tommy rolls his eyes. Neither man says your name, they don’t have to, they both know that they’re talking about you.

“No, I know. I’ve been on the other side of this conversation, myself, but this time there’s something to it.” Eugene jokes, taking a sip of his drink as Tommy just shakes his head. 

“You’re nuts. I think the weed is finally going to your head.” 

“That may be, but I know what I saw.” Eugene says. “We got that heavy rain this morning, and I was out on the porch just watching it come down when I saw her come out and head down the road towards her own house.” 

Tommy just shakes his head, “alright so she was there. You and I both know that doesn’t mean anything. They were probably just having breakfast.” 

You were, in fact, having breakfast. Joel had fried up a few eggs and you had brought over a loaf of bed to have some toast. The two of you ate your breakfast and sat there, watching the rain through the window as you drank your coffee. Eventually, a glance at the clock told you that it was time to head home so you could get ready before your shift. You were helping out at the school today – in another life, you were a substitute teacher to get through grad school, and while you’re a bit of a Jack-of-all-trades nowadays, you still find yourself slipping into the classroom from time-to-time. 

“Alright, thanks for breakfast, I’ve gotta head home.” You told Joel as you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, watching as he put away the last dish you’d washed and dried. 

“Are you sure I can’t talk you into staying for another cup of coffee?” Just like every time you’re over for breakfast, Joel refused to let you wash your coffee mug right away, just in case you want another, he always says.

“Joel Miller? Offering to give away even more of his coffee? That’s crazy talk. You keep that up and people are liable to think you’ve been body snatched.” You laughed as you headed to the front door to lace up your shoes. You didn’t notice the way Joel pauses for a moment, glancing back into the kitchen as if to confirm he’s still got an extra can tucked away high in the pantry where you wouldn’t think to look. 

“At least take a jacket. You should’ve brought one.” Joel moved to grab his raincoat from the hall closet.

“It wasn’t raining when I left. Besides, a little rain never killed anyone.” You smiled. 

“I don’t know about that, you might be sweet enough to melt.” Joel teased.

“You’re incorrigible, Joel Miller. I’m fine, I’m only going over two streets to go get ready. I can dry off and grab my own jacket before I head to the school.”

“Yeah, alright. Have a good day.” Joel knew he'd lost, it’s always a battle of stubborn will between you and it was his turn to give in. 

With the rain pouring down around you, you gave Joel a quick wave before setting off towards your house. It was the type of heavy rain where you just keep your head down and trudge through to your destination. You meant what you said, you didn’t mind the walk in the rain, but it did keep you from really noticing Eugene watching from a few porches down as you departed. 

“Nah, it was too early to be decent. Hell, I couldn’t even tell you why I was up. Maybe the storm woke me.” Eugene tells Tommy, now that he’s done recounting the way he saw you leave this morning.

Instead of continuing to focus on your alleged walk of shame, Tommy takes the opportunity to joke with Eugene. “Ah, that old man sleep schedule.” 

Before either man can say anything else, Tommy feels someone coming up behind him. 

“You’re no spring chicken yourself, anymore.” Joel knocks shoulders with Tommy, joining their conversation. 

Whether Eugene agrees with Tommy’s assessment of a casual, platonic breakfast or not, he takes the hint to drop the conversation while the brothers start bickering. Even if Tommy completely missed the point Eugene was trying to make. There’s no way you would have been out in that weather early enough for breakfast, and even if you had been crazy enough, you would have had a jacket.

No, Eugene knows what he saw and what it meant. Tommy can think whatever he wants, but Eugene is sure you didn’t just go over for breakfast, but woke up and had it there. At the end of the day, he’s amused but it’s really none of his business so when the next conversation comes along, Eugene lets it go. There’s no point in bringing it up any further yet, but maybe he’ll keep an eye on you two and see if he notices anything else. 

A week later, Dina heads towards the front gates, waiting for Jesse to return from another patrol. She knows how proud he’s been to get to go on more and more patrols, and today he’s out  with Joel again, just the two of them. Dina’s only been on a few patrols so far, and she knows Jesse likes patrolling with and learning from Joel the best, but she prefers your style of teaching. She likes Joel and he knows what he’s doing, but you feel like a cool aunt, or a fun older sister, even out on patrol. Dina misses Talia, and while neither of you are trying to replace the people you’ve lost, it’s nice to have someone in that familial role. 

Today, she gets to go out on patrol with you, taking over after Jesse and Joel. The two of you had grabbed lunch with Ellie before you offered to go sign out the guns if Dina would get the horses, telling her you’d meet her by the gates.  

By the time Dina (and both horses) walk up to the gates, you’re already there chatting with Maria. Dina walks up to join you and you exchange her gun for the reins to your horse. 

“Alright, I’ll stop by later.” You tell Maria, turning to make sure everything is set the way you like it. Dina waves to Maria as she turns to walk away. 

“Let’s just wait a few minutes for the guys to get back and then we can head out.”

Strategically, it’s a smart choice. It means the gates only have to open once, and that you can quickly touch base and see if there is anything you should know before you head out. Selfishly, Dina’s glad to have the chance to see Jesse. Plus, she’s convinced there’s something going on between you and Joel so she’s taking every opportunity she can to pay attention. 

Sure enough, not even a minute later she hears the call to open the gates and the two of them move forward so they can meet the guys right at the opening.

Dina watches as your eyes light up with relief seeing Joel and Jesse back in one piece. She notices the way you give each of them a quick once-over for any injuries before your gaze lingers on Joel. She feels an immediate sense of satisfaction, this is the exact type of thing she's looking out for.

“Hi, you. Come here often?” You ask.

“I’ve been known to.” Joel responds, and it’s easy for Dina to see why the women of Jackson love to watch him – with that charming smile and gleam in his eyes, not to mention the accent. He’s not her type, but she gets it.

Dina takes a minute to say hi to Jesse while you and Joel talk.

“Anything we should know?” She asks, in a similar version of the conversation you and Joel are having.

“We didn’t see anything, so hopefully your route is quiet too.” Jesse tells her. 

“Okay.” Dina says, giving him a quick kiss. “I’ll see you later.”

“Be safe.” Jesse tells her.

“You be safe out there.” Joel tells you at the same time.

“Always am. Love you.” Dina’s glad she’s looking at Jesse and not towards you and Joel because her jaw drops. Sure, she thought something was going on but she wasn't expecting anything so direct.

Joel grunts back something that sounds like “love you too.” Dina doesn’t think her jaw could be any lower. She knows you’re an affectionate person but telling Joel you love him? In the middle of Jackson? And him saying it back? No way is she hearing what she’s hearing. A quick glance at Jesse’s look of astonishment reveals that she’s not the only one shocked or who heard it.

“Alright, miss Dina. Time for us to head out.” 

Dina just nods, still stunned by your matter of fact, nonchalant tone, and mounts her horse to follow you out of the gates. 

You do spend a good part of patrol talking about people in Jackson (general), relationships (hers) and rumors, but you never mention what you said to Joel. She has so many questions but doesn’t want to scare you off, or make patrol weird. No, she’ll keep waiting and watching and bring it up later. 

The next day, she stops by lunch with everyone to grab a sandwich and is delighted to see Tommy and Ellie eating together.

“Oh my god.” She says, in lieu of a greeting.

“Good afternoon to you, too.” Tommy says while Ellie just nods with a mouthful of food. 

“You’ll never guess what I heard yesterday?” She’s so excited she doesn’t give them a chance to answer before continuing, “so, as you know we had patrol after Joel and Jesse and we met them at the gates to switch off and right before we left, I heard her tell Joel she loves him. And he said it back!” She’s nearly yelling, she’s so excited.

“Okay.” Tommy says, before taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Okay? Okay! This is big news!” She exclaims.

“Dina, I hear you. But, I’ve been hearing her say that since high school.”

“No way, this was romantic. Trust me.” Ellie snorts as Dina digs her heels in. 

“I thought that too. It’s easier when you just accept it.” He shrugs.

“I dunno, Tommy. They do look pretty damn cozy lately.” Ellie adds in Dina's defense. “But then again, it is Joel, so.” Dina’s smile fades as she groans in reply to Ellie.

“Exactly, it’s Joel. Joel!” She tries again.

“What’s this about Joel?” You ask, walking up to the table with your own plate in hand. 

“Ah, Dina’s just telling us about you telling Joel you love him.” Tommy pointedly ignores the look Dina is giving him to be quiet, and tells you the exact thing she’s trying to avoid him saying.

“Tommy what the fuck?” She bursts out and you just laugh.

“Oh, fair enough.” You say, sitting down. Dina watches, exasperated as you unwrap your sandwich and start eating. No, it doesn’t matter how Tommy denies it and you play it off, she’s positive something is going on. And she’s going to keep watching until she has complete proof. She was already on a mission, but now she's determined to double down. While you start talking with Tommy, she scoots over closer to Ellie, roping her into her plan. 

It takes another week for the girls to come up with their plan and get everything ready, but it’s finally time. Ellie has talked Joel into another movie night and Dina has gotten you to promise that you’ll attend, not that it took much convincing. 

They almost go so far as to ask Maria what kind of movie you should watch, but decide against it, worrying that she’d tell you their scheme. They do tell Tommy, much to his amusement. 

“Hold on, so your big plan is to watch a movie with them, and just see what they do?” The corners of his eyes crinkle with amusement. “And you think this will be different from any other movie you’ve watched with them, because…?”

“We have a plan, Tommy.” Ellie says, almost defiantly.

“Yeah. I asked her about what movies she likes on patrol, and talked her into looking at the library to see what they have. She found a few she said she liked that we brought back. This way it’s something she already knows, and they have options.” Dina nods as if this is the lynchpin of their entire plan. 

“Plus, Dina will pretend to get a headache and go home and I’ll ‘fall asleep’ on the couch so they’ll think it’s just them but I can watch them.” She’s so excited about it, it brings a genuine smile to Tommy’s face.

For a minute, Tommy is thrown back 20 years, instead of Ellie, it’s Sarah scheming over the two of you. He tries so hard to see them each as their own person, but sometimes, in moments like this, he can’t help but see the similarities. But he can’t say that, so instead he just smiles.

The girls spend the rest of the day excited and finally, it’s time to head over for dinner. They’re full of excited energy as they meet you and Joel at the house, and instead of going off to Ellie’s room like they normally do, they sit with you in the kitchen while you cook, talking about a little of everything until Joel finally cracks and sends them to the living room, “It's not that big of a kitchen, it’s gonna take twice as long if you’re hovering.”

You just laugh and wink at Dina as the girls groan and go to the living room.

“They’re in good spirits today.” You say.

“Teenage girls, still the same as 20 years ago apparently.” Joel grumbles, but you see through it to know that he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Who would have thought at our big age we’d still be surrounded by them?” You pause your stirring and share a smile with Joel. You miss Sarah more than anything, and are glad to have Ellie and Dina in your lives, even when they’re being ridiculous. 

Without the constant interruptions, you two finish making dinner and call the girls to the table to eat. It’s a practiced routine with you and Joel dishing out food around each other listening to Ellie’s recount of her day. 

You’re not entirely sure what’s up during dinner but it’s clear that the girls are up to something . The little looks between the two of them, the way they keep giggling when they mention movie night. You’re just not sure what. Dina had the great idea to check out the movie selection at the Grand Teton library on patrol so you know you’ve got a couple of new options and you can’t think what might be causing it. Oh , you realize, one of the movies you grabbed was Dirty Dancing, the title is probably what’s giving them the giggles.

With that mystery solved, you turn your attention back to your dinner, leaving the girls to their own amusement. By the time dinner is done, they seem to mostly contain themselves so you send them off to pick a movie in the other room while you and Joel do the dishes. 

“What is with the giggling?” Joel says, the second you hear laughter coming from the other room.

“My best guess? We grabbed Dirty Dancing. I think the title is setting them off.” You shrug as you scrub the next dish.

“Could be.” Joel muses. 

It doesn’t take long for you to finish the dishes and dry your hands. Before you can make your way to the living room, Dina and Ellie come back to the kitchen.

“Dina’s got a headache!” Ellie nearly yells. It’s almost laughable, only Ellie would shout next to someone with a headache. 

“Yeah, sorry, I think I need a rain check on movie night.” Dina says, almost looking sheepish.

“Alright, honey. You want to go up to Ellie’s room and lay down? I can grab you a cool cloth.” You offer, concerned.

“No, that’s okay, I’m just gonna head home.” Dina says with a small shrug.

“Why don’t we save the movie for another night? We can play a game with Ellie instead.” You look over at Joel who nods in agreement.

“No!” Both girls yell, startling you and Joel.

“Dina doesn’t mind.” Ellie says.

“Yeah, I don’t want you to miss out. I’ll watch another time!” Dina adds. You and Joel exchange a look but frankly, you don’t have the energy to try and decipher every bit of teenage weirdness from the girls so you just agree. Dina gets sent home with a couple of cookies you were going to share during the movie, a hug, and a promise to you to get some rest. 

You and Joel turn back to the dishes to finish cleaning up while Ellie walks Dina to the door.

“That was fucking perfect, I don’t think they suspect anything.” Ellie says, louder than she intends. In the kitchen, you have to bite back your laughter. Truthfully, you’re not sure what this performance has been about, but you definitely suspect something is up with Dina. Even if you didn't, Ellie's momentary inability to whisper would have looped you in.

“Okay, you’ll have to tell me everything.” Dina says.

“Tomorrow at breakfast.” Ellie nods, seriously, as if they’re discussing battle plans and not an attempt to catch you and Joel in a romance. 

Dina leaves and Ellie meets you and Joel in the living room. She claims the slightly larger of the two couches, and sprawls out hoping it will push you two to sit closely on the other.

“How does one small person take up so much space?” Joel teases. Ellie just lifts up a middle finger in response while you laugh. 

You toss her a blanket as you cross the room towards the small stack of VHS tapes. 

“I’m thinking Raiders of the Lost Ark. It’s one of my favorites, I think you’ll like it, El.” Joel just laughs, knowing how many times you’d bring it over for movie night back in the day.

“Sure.” Honestly, Ellie doesn’t care what you watch tonight, since her focus is going to be on you and Joel. 

With that decided, you pop the tape in the VCR and grab a blanket for yourself. You make your way back to the couch and Ellie nearly jumps for joy when you curl up right next to Joel like you always do. 

As Joel extends an arm on the back of the couch behind you, he raises one eyebrow at Ellie, trying to figure out why she’s being so damn weird. When she gives him a thumbs up, he’s no less confused but brushes it off as Ellie being Ellie. 

She makes sure to get cozy at an angle where she can see the tv and you and Joel, but you won’t have an easy glimpse to know whether or not she’s awake. A few minutes into the movie she makes a point to yawn, and then she does it again a few minutes later. Damn, she thinks, this does look like a good movie, but it’ll be worth it to watch you and Joel. She’ll just have to see if you want to watch it with her again sometime. 

Not even twenty minutes into the movie, you look over at Ellie and nudge Joel, “she’s out cold.” 

Joel moves to reach for the remote before you can stop him, “no, it’s okay. Let her sleep, she and I can watch it another time.” Joel just nods and when he moves back, his arm falls from the back of the couch to around your shoulders. Ellie thinks she deserves some kind of award for feigning sleep during this. 

With Joel’s arm around your shoulders, one of your favorite movies on the tv and a cozy blanket draped over your laps, you’re happy as a clam and contentedly drop your head to Joel’s chest. The two of you stay that way for the rest of the movie. On the one hand, Ellie considers your cuddling a win. On the other hand, she was definitely hoping for something more exciting. Though she does eventually actually fall asleep, but she won’t tell Dina that part. 

The next morning, she’s wide awake the second her feet hit the floor for once, ready to meet Dina for breakfast. She tosses out a “good morning, going to breakfast, bye” all in one breath before she runs out the door. 

Dina’s already waiting for her with two plates when she gets to breakfast, and she eagerly fills her in on what happened after she left. It doesn’t take long for them to spot Tommy and wave him over to share their information.

“Them cuddling during a movie? During Raiders? Sorry, kiddos, been there done that. Literally.” Tommy offers them a sympathetic smile.

“You can’t ruin this for us, Tommy. Something’s up with them.” Ellie insists.

“Whatever you say.” Tommy laughs and shakes his head before saying goodbye and heading off to work for the day.

This time, he does mention it to Maria when they’re chatting after dinner. 

“Honestly, hon, I don’t know why everyone is suddenly so focused on them. They’ve been like this forever. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been convinced that they were finally getting together. It’s always ‘no, Tommy, we’re just friends’, ‘Tommy it’s platonic’, ‘she’s just a friend, Tommy’ so I finally was like fine! Short of them fucking making out in front of my face, it’s all platonic.” Tommy’s being overdramatic and Maria is having a hard time keeping a straight face. 

“I’m sorry to say, I also think that there’s something going on there.”

“Oh, not you too.” Tommy groans.

This afternoon, it was Maria’s turn to stop by the store to get what passes for groceries nowadays. They still have some things in the pantry, and later this week they’re having a birthday dinner for you, so she mostly focused on grabbing some produce and meat. 

She had looked over and saw Joel entering the store. They exchanged a pleasant nod and she continued with her shopping while Joel began his. Joel seemed to be a man on a mission and quickly gathered what he needed, with them both arriving at the front at the same time. 

With a slightly larger basket, Maria gestured to let Joel go first. 

Joel set his purchases down on the counter where it could be marked off for inventory purposes. Maria glanced down and saw sugar, flour, eggs, and some applesauce. With a nod, Dominique reached under the counter and grabbed what appeared to be a container of spices. Wordlessly, Joel pulled a can of coffee out of his bag in exchange.

“Normally you’re taking home the coffee, not bringing it back.” Maria couldn’t help herself from saying. 

“Well, her birthday’s coming up.” Joel scratches the back of his neck and shrugs. “Her favorite has always been spice cake, and I asked Dominique a while ago to keep an eye out for any spices I could use.” 

Maria’s heart melted. Coffee is hard to come by, and it’s long been a running joke in Jackson that now that they’ve got a steady supply, nothing could come between Joel Miller and his daily cup. But to see him willingly handing over an entire can of it, just to get something for you, is something she never expected from him.

“You were in luck, too. I almost feel bad asking for the whole can in return.” Dominique joked, despite taking the coffee anyways.

“Thank you, mighty appreciated.” Joel nodded, grabbing the rest of his goods to put in his bag before delicately placing the spice jar on top. 

Maria wanted to say more, but it was clear that was enough sentimentality for Joel as it was. So instead, she said, “well, I, for one, am looking forward to this Friday night birthday party. It’s nice to be able to celebrate things even though it’s not how it used to be.”

Joel simply nodded in return, but one glance at the look in his eyes told Maria that he was visiting a faraway time, a time where he could have gotten you a cheap cake from the supermarket, ice cream, and easy, store bought presents. If she could have seen in his mind, she’d have heard years of singing each other happy birthday with laughter – his, yours, Tommy’s, their parents, and Sarah’s. She’d have seen the way that Sarah insisted on learning how to make a spice cake every year, even though you promised you’d have been just as happy with chocolate cake, or vanilla; the way your eyes would always light up with the first bite, the perfect mix of the spices in the cake with the frosting (regular, not cream cheese, thank you very much). 

She couldn’t see any of that, but she could see Joel’s love for you in this simple act of preparing to bake a cake. So, much like the other residents of Jackson, including their friends lately, she filed it away to tell Tommy. 

“Alright, I’ll admit, you make a compelling argument. I guess that’s what I get for marrying a lawyer.” Tommy jokes, pulling her into his lap. “Still, they’ve always been close. I’m telling you, they’re just friends. After all this time, I’ve given up hope of matchmaking them.” He jokes. 

“You never know.” Maria teases, laying her head on her husband’s shoulder, before changing the subject slightly to what’s planned for your birthday party and who is responsible for what. 

The next few days fly by for your group as everyone is looking forward to getting together. Naturally, everyone spends all of their time together anyways but it’s nice to have an event planned, something to look forward to that celebrates something like Maria told Joel. 

Tonight’s party is being held after dinner, and has your closest friends and family. You’ve got a big flannel on over a comfortable dress that lives at the back of your closet for every celebration under the sun and Ellie plopped a homemade, paper birthday crown on your head. Everyone has finished their dinner and Joel disappeared for a moment before bringing out a cake. Which, admittedly, made you tear up. It’s the end of the world and he’s still making you a birthday cake, you shake your head at the thought.

“Alright, thank y’all for comin’. I know I don’t usually host or make a big speech, but bear with me just a minute.” Joel stands, with a drink in hand, looking around the bar at everyone gathered for your birthday: you, Ellie, Dina, Jesse, Maria, Tommy, and Eugene. The best of your community, as far as you’re concerned. 

“Someone often tells me that it’s okay to celebrate, the big things and the little things. Hell, she’s been telling me that most of my life. So today, this one’s for you, darlin’. It’s hard work to keep a place like this running and lord knows how much we all owe Tommy and Maria, but we also owe it to you. To the way you volunteer for a little bit of every job, take care of everyone, and I’m sure everyone agrees that we owe you a big thank you for putting up with me and keeping me as in line as you can, all these years.” Joel says, laughing when Tommy bursts out laughing. 

“I love you, honey. I ain’t got any candles but you’ll just have to close your eyes and make a wish anyways.” 

Tommy watches Joel tuck you into his side and press a kiss to the top of your head while you close your eyes to make your wish and blow out the lighter Eugene offers. It’s such a familiar scene to Tommy that he can almost picture Sarah sitting on your other side, waiting to help you cut and serve the cake. He’s so busy thinking about the life you all deserved that he nearly misses seeing you open your eyes, and lean up to press a kiss to Joel’s lips.

“Hold on, what ?!” Amidst the chorus of ‘happy birthday’ that’s starting, Tommy is staring at you two, wide eyed.

“What do you mean ‘what’, Tommy Miller?” You’ve got a mischievous smile on your face as you grab the knife from Maria and start cutting the cake. 

“Ain’t you been the one tryin’ to get us together all this time?” Joel adds.

“Well, I was. But the two of you are hopeless so I gave up. Years ago. You’re just friends. That’s what you’ve been saying, that’s what I’ve been telling everyone.” Tommy throws his hands in the air, exasperated, as though the two of you have organized all of this just to frustrate him.

“I mean we were, and then we weren’t.” Joel adds, unhelpfully. 

“Tommy, we haven’t exactly been subtle,” you laugh, “I’m pretty sure Jesse saw us holding hands a few weeks ago.” You nod your head towards Jesse who doesn’t get his chance to finally say I told you so before Tommy cuts him off. 

“He said you were passing the library, Joel always had to hold your hand passing the bookstore so you wouldn’t wander off and buy the whole fucking store.” 

“He was holding my hand long before we got to the library.” You smile, leaning back into Joel.

“That’s what I said!” Jesse whispers to Dina, who tucks her head into his shoulder and giggles.

“Okay fine, so you were holding hands.” Tommy concedes.

“Right, and I know Dina heard me tell Joel I love him before patrol one day because y’all were talking about it the next day.” Dina’s giggles continue. 

“You’ve been telling him that for decades. Hell, you tell me and Maria you love us. I don’t see you kissing us.” 

“I didn’t know either of you wanted me to, sugar.” You wink at him. “But nah, fair enough. Well, he never said anything to me but I think Eugene saw me leaving Joel’s too early to be decent one morning.” Your voice trails up, unsure.

“I did.” Eugene confirms, very matter of fact. 

“Though he might not have said anything.” You add, assuming that maybe he hadn’t since it had never gotten back to you or Joel.

“No, I did that too.” Everyone laughs. Eugene might be a cranky old man, but damn does he love his gossip. But you have to earn the right for him to like you enough to include you in it, and all of you at this table have been lucky enough to have been brought into the fold. 

“How many times in school did I come downstairs and you were already there for breakfast? Half the time you came over with breakfast in exchange for a ride to school and half the time you’d fallen asleep studying or watching a movie with me right there too. How was I supposed to know this time it was different?” Tommy continues ranting.

“Tommy, have you been watching my girl all this time?” 

“How the hell could I not, Joel? Everywhere I’ve gone for decades it’s ‘are they together’, ‘have they finally kissed’, 'are they sleeping together', nobody wanted you two together more than me. But no, every time I thought there was something going on you convinced me it was just platonic. Excuse me for finally believing you.” Tommy’s doing a remarkable job keeping up the facade of being annoyed, but you can tell how delighted he is for the two of you.

“Okay, so my brother and my best friend are together. Finally, after all these years. It’s all I’ve wanted, so why the hell do I feel cheated?” He finishes his rant with an exaggerated sigh.

“In our defense, we really thought you knew. Don’t think I don’t know that Miss Dina and Miss Ellie over there have been watching our every move.” Ellie looks sheepish for once at having been caught. 

“Well regardless of who knows or not”, Joel cuts back in, “I wanted to thank all of y’all for helping me put together this party for the best woman I’ve ever known. I don’t know why you put up with me, with any of us” Joel says with a wink to Ellie, “But we’re sure glad you do. Happy birthday, baby. Let’s have some cake.”

“Oh fuck yeah, finally!” Ellie yells as she squeezes past Maria to grab one of the first slices of cake. She’s never had spice cake before but Joel has told her about it, how it’ll be the first one he’s been able to make for you in years. It's been a monumental effort for her not to have ruined the surprise for you and she's pretty proud of herself, and ready to finally try it.

Sure, Tommy had a point, or several, with the reason he assumed you two were still platonic but Joel still can’t believe his brother didn’t know you had gotten together. Joel doesn’t need a mirror to know that he looks at you like you hung the moon in the sky. He’s still got one arm around you, and looks down to see you laughing at something with Dina and Jesse while you’re scooping a bite of cake into your mouth. When that first bite hits your tongue, your eyes light up at the familiar flavor that you never thought you’d get to experience again.

Joel loves you in every mood, but damn does he love the way you look when you’re happy. He knows you’ll tease him for it later, that everyone here is likely to, but he doesn’t bother waiting for you to finish your conversation as he uses his other hand to tilt your chin towards him and kiss you. You’re still finishing your cake so you end up accidentally covering him in frosting as well. 

“Oops.” You say, not at all sorry, as you grab a napkin to wipe his face. But Joel doesn’t let you, he just pulls you back in for another kiss. This one is long enough that Ellie starts complaining about “old people germs” and “public indecency”. You start laughing into the kiss before pulling away, setting down your plate to chase Ellie around the room to press a sloppy kiss to her cheek.

“I mean really, holding hands, being together at all hours, saying they love each other, saving up for a spice cake? From the two of them? Been there, done that, for over 30 damn years!” Tommy grumbles one last time to Maria as she hands him a plate of cake. In truth, he’s thrilled. He can’t keep the smile from his face as he looks at you, at the love that was there all along that you’ve finally given into. 

I hope you’re seeing this, sweetheart. He sends a thought up to Sarah, knowing that she wanted you two together as much as he always did. The world might have ended long ago, but as long as there are pockets of love and joy like this, they can keep going.

[berryispunk]

Insatiable

pairing: Frankie Morales x f! reader

tags: soft! Frankie, domestic fluff, morning sex, quickie, unprotected PinV, praise, filthy but make it romantic, Frankie being a menace, established relationship, PEK in action

summary: One chaotic, steamy morning where Frankie proves he's both the best and worst way to start the day

notes: highly inspired by this post from @intheorangebedroom. i wanted to write today anyway, but I didn't expect it to be smut, oop-

word count: ~ 1,7k

Mornings with Frankie were never quite the same, but they were always a surprise. He wasn’t exactly a morning person, but he was your person—and if there was one thing you’d learned since moving in together, it was that he could never get enough of you.

When your alarm dragged you out of a deep sleep, you groaned and blindly reached for your phone to silence it. The sheets rustled beside you—Frankie was awake too.

You sat on the edge of the bed, stretched with a noise that landed somewhere between a war cry and surrender, and heard his quiet chuckle behind you.

“Morning, baby,” he rasped, voice still thick with sleep. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good. Too short, though—someone kept me up longer than I would’ve liked,” you replied, glancing over your shoulder.

He was still naked from the night before, only a thin sheet barely covering the obvious effects of morning.

Frankie laughed again, deep and smug—and God, you loved this version of him. The easy one. The one not lost in his head.

“I’d say you’re welcome,” he said with a cocky grin.

You smirked, finally dragging your eyes from the sheet to his face—dark, messy locks framing his ridiculously handsome face and sleepy warm eyes that somehow made it all worse.

“Sure,” you said, and got to your feet, disappearing into the bathroom for a shower.

–

Half an hour later, you found him in the kitchen. Even though today was his day off, he was already up, making coffee for both of you like clockwork. He handed you your usual mug—the one with the quote “cry a river, build a bridge, get over it.”

Frankie watched you closely over the rim of his own cup as you took a sip. You narrowed your eyes at him, suspicious of the attention.

“What?” you asked, playful.

He just shook his head, setting his mug down on the counter before walking over to you. His hands slid to your hips, pulling you in until your bodies met. You were still holding your coffee, but you set it down with a soft clink so you could loop your arms around his neck, fingers curling into the messy curls at the nape of his neck—knowing exactly what that does to him.

“You’re absolutely beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low as he dipped his head to press a feather-light kiss just behind your ear.

You tugged gently at his hair in response.

“I’m the luckiest bastard alive,” he added, and the warmth of his words spread through you like sunlight. It lit you up from the inside, and you hugged him tighter.

Frankie was never one for grand speeches. He let his actions speak louder, which made moments like this—soft and sincere—mean everything. It made you feel giddy.

You rose onto your toes to kiss him—soft and slow, pouring every ounce of love and devotion into it. Because that’s what you felt, every day, ever since this broad-shouldered mess of a man stumbled into your life and refused to leave.

He didn’t hesitate for a second. His response wasn’t gentle—it was all heat and hunger, making you gasp as he coaxed your lips apart, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with practiced ease. In just a few steps, he had you backed against the wall, and you laughed against his mouth at how eager he was.

“Francisco,” you purred, breaking the kiss just enough to meet his gaze. “I have to go to work. I already showered.”

He grinned—that dangerous kind of grin that always spelled trouble. “How long until you have to leave?”

You glanced at the big clock on the wall. “Twenty minutes. Max.”

“Then I better make it worth,” he murmured, and his lips found your neck, sucking and biting at all the spots that made your knees weak. Instinctively, you tilted your head, letting him in.

You just hoped he had the decency to avoid leaving a hickey you’d have to explain at the office. His mouth trailed down to your collarbone, one hand palming your breast through your blouse before he tugged impatiently at the buttons—half-ripping them open just to kiss the soft skin above your bra.

A soft mewl slipped from your lips as you watched him through heavy lids, his mouth trailing lower, tracing every inch of your skin—down the valley between your breasts, over your stomach—until he tugged your chinos and panties down in one slow, practiced motion. Your breath caught as he helped you step out of them, his hands purposeful but gentle, just like he always was.

He sank to his knees, kissing the inside of your thighs, nudging them apart to make space for himself. One leg hooked over his shoulder as he settled between them, opening you up to him completely. His kisses were hot and wet, punctuated with the occasional teasing bite, and you reached for his tousled hair—needing something to anchor you as he moved closer to where you were already aching.

It was ridiculous how easily he could set your body on fire.

When his mouth reached your core, he placed a soft kiss on your mound, then another along your folds before his tongue found your clit. He swirled it, then sucked—hard enough to make your hips buck into his mouth. You could feel the smirk he didn’t bother to hide, feel it between your legs as he devoured you like he had all the time in the world—when in truth, you were racing the clock.

“Frankie, please,” you whimpered, your grip tightening in his curls.

He eased your leg from his shoulder, pressing a kiss to your knee before rising to his feet and tugging down his boxers. Of course, he was already just as hard and eager as you were.

“You want this?” he asked, eyes locking with yours, always checking in—always making sure.

You nodded, breathless, and he didn’t waste another second. One, two strokes down his length before his hands slid under your thighs, lifting you like you weighed nothing. You wrapped your legs around his hips, arms clinging to his neck as he pressed you against the wall, guiding himself to your entrance.

You moaned at the stretch, and he hissed through his teeth—a low, throaty “fuuuck” spilling from his mouth as he sank into you, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt. One hand gripped your ass as he started to move, slow at first—deep, deliberate strokes that made your whole body tremble—before his pace quickened, driven by urgency.

You clung to him, helplessly moaning with each powerful thrust, feeling him everywhere.

“So fuckin’ good,” he groaned, voice gravelly near your ear. “You feel so good, baby. So wet for me.”

Heat crept into your cheeks at his words, your body arching into him.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he growled, and the sound of skin meeting skin echoed through the kitchen—each thrust snapping into you, the only rhythm in the room as the knot inside you pulled tighter, closer to release.

The knot in your belly wound tighter with every thrust, every word from his mouth, every graze of his teeth along your jaw. Frankie’s hands gripped you like he needed you to stay tethered, like he was holding on to something holy—and you felt it too. The way your body arched into his, how his name spilled from your lips over and over like a prayer.

He shifted his angle just slightly, and you saw stars.

“Right there—fuck, Frankie—don’t stop,” you gasped, your voice breaking as your climax crept closer, faster than you could brace for.

“I got you,” he rasped, forehead pressing to yours, hips snapping with steady precision. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.”

It was all you needed.

Your body seized, and pleasure ripped through you like a wave crashing into the shore. You cried out his name, clinging to him as your orgasm rolled through your limbs in pulsing waves. He followed a moment later with a deep groan, burying himself to the hilt as he came—his whole body tense, breath ragged against your cheek. He came hard, painting your walls with thick, hot ropes, the intensity of it almost heavenly. He twitched inside you as your heart gradually began to steady, both of you breathless and spent.

Then—

“Shit,” you whispered, peeking over his shoulder at the clock. “Shitshitshit. I have six minutes.”

Frankie chuckled, breath still ragged as he stayed buried inside you. “Guess that’s one way to start the day.”

You swatted his shoulder as he finally pulled out, lowering you to the floor like you were made of glass. Your legs wobbled, and you had to grab the counter to stay upright.

“Oh my God, I can’t walk.”

He smirked, pressing a kiss to your cheek, full of unrepentant pride. “Yeah, but you’ll be glowing all day.”

You groaned as you fumbled to button your now thoroughly wrinkled blouse. “You’re the worst. The actual worst.”

Frankie handed you your pants with zero shame. “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

You were still laughing, breathless and flushed, as you darted toward the bathroom to try and salvage what was left of your appearance.

“Don’t forget your coffee!” he called after you.

“Too late!” you shouted back. “You already ruined me!”

“Just how I like you,” he muttered, grinning into his mug as he watched your whirlwind exit.

You managed to plant a rushed kiss to his cheek before sprinting out the door and into your car, still feeling him between your legs, the dampness in your panties a lingering reminder.

—

Later, around lunchtime, you shot him a quick text—still feeling him everywhere, still smelling like him, and trying your hardest not to let your co-workers’ suspicious glances get to you.

[You]: I still feel you. Smell you. See you in my underwear 🙄💦 [Frankie]: As it should be 😌 Don’t worry, I’ll clean you up real nice when you’re home—before we try the extension 😉

You smothered a laugh, glancing around to make sure no one noticed your expression.

[You]: You’re insatiable 😵‍💫 [Frankie]: Only when it comes to you 😏❤️

thanks for reading 💌

main masterlist

tags: (if you don't wanna be tagged anymore, let me know!) @speaktothehandpeasants @kungfucapslock @felix-enthusiast @kakiki3 @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @capuccinodoll @almostfoxglove @jolapeno @whirlwindrider29 @cuteanimalmama @christinamadsen @sheepdogchick3 @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @brittmb115 @greenwitchfromthewoods @diabaroxa @glycerinrivers @biapascal @copperhalfcent @beaniebailey @thepilatesprincess @axshadows @kirsteng42 @joelsgoodgirl @ellenmunn @matchalov3 @canadianfangirl-95 @picketniffler @hotforpedro @tuquoquebrute @noovaarq @warmdragonfly @theanothersherlockian @littleluc @76bookworm76 @inept-the-magnificent @confusedpuffin @wheatmaze @rav3n-pascal22 @picketniffler @lostinmyownmaze

[sfstranslations]

what's your process on TLing? like how do you do it? I've always wondered what its like TLing stuff

Disclaimer that it's probably different for everyone, obviously, but for me it usually goes something like this:

(Got long, so under a cut. Minor bonus at the end for My S-Ranks fic writers!)

Get the raws (obviously, LOL).

When I start a TL session, I usually read back a little just to get the context of what's going on, because otherwise you risk getting some of the contextual information wrong.

Time for the actual translating! Read the sentence.

Break it down as best as I can—pick out grammar structure (is XYZ the subject or object etc.), pick out what words I know, cobble together a partial sentence from that. Ends up something like, "Character A {??ed} loudly and lifted their {right? left?} hand."

Look up the words I don't know in the KR-EN dictionary (usually Naver, but also Wiktionary as a backup, both English and Korean) and fill in the blanks. My Korean vocabulary is minuscule so I have to do this for at least one word almost every sentence… I also like to double-check the meanings of some words I'm not fully sure of, or to see if there's other verified translations that would fit the sentence better if the one I think of doesn't flow well.

Addendum to the above point: If there's a word that doesn't really fit the scene or means some random off-the-wall thing, go on a research spree to figure out why it's showing up here. If this takes longer than 5 minutes, put a pin in it to come back to later and move on; otherwise I risk getting distracted or running out of energy, and sometimes the next few lines help me figure out what was being said anyway. Generally I mark these with the {???} from the example above, with a note on what confused me about the bit in question. (These are usually the things that require footnotes!)

If I completed the sentence, read over it to check that it actually makes sense. Sometimes it doesn't and I have to go back over grammar to redo it. Subject/object/topic markers my beloathed

Then once the meaning of the sentence is worked out, check that it flows with the rest of the scene. (If it doesn't, 70% chance it's a quote or reference to something, in which case, again, research or put a pin in it for later.)

Rinse and repeat until the end of the chapter.

First pass complete! 🎉

Go back and do all that research I saved for later :( (Chiyul is niceys to me and only uses odd or flowery wording that I can work out given enough time, but Geunseo is so mean about this. Stop referencing poets from the Tang dynasty who don't have easily accessible online translations for their works. What the hell) (Sometimes they'll reference something obscure and then make an oblique reference to THAT reference instead of the source material because they loooove having characters use injokes which I do love. But it is also majorly harshing my groove. Please have mercy)

Read over the chapter again, Korean then English, paragraph by paragraph, to make sure the translations actually line up and I didn't mess anything up during the first pass. Also for English editing purposes—grammar, punctuation etc. So combination quality-checking and editing.

Pass the baton to other team members for a second round of combination QC/edits; sometimes gets skipped, it depends

Clean the chapter (i.e. deleting all the Korean and running some final checks via regexes for miscapitalizations and the like)

Pick a good excerpt, tag all featured characters, and post! Aaand back to the grind for the next chapter. (…Bit of a simplification. What I actually do is just keep translating until I run out of energy/thinking power for the day. Chapters get cleaned and prepped for posting in batches of 10 only when the last batch have all been posted; e.g. we're on 390-something for S-Ranks right now, so when I'm about to post chapter 400, I'll edit and clean 401–410, and so on.)

Some more notes I wasn't sure where to fit in, below.

Besides quotes/references to external media and language/culture quirks, I also sometimes add footnotes when characters quote other characters from chapters that were posted quite a while ago. This is in part because it's probably helpful to readers but largely because it's helpful to me specifically (I have a terrible memory 😔) (if I don't do it then when I'm rereading the chapter for editing/cleaning I always end up going "they literally didn't say that though…? Is that a mistranslation?" and then it turns out they did say that but it was more than a chapter ago so I forgot. Sighs.)

Disclaimer that I don't translate from MTL anymore!! Quality is worse than translating by hand!! But sometimes if a chapter is really confusing then I'll slap the whole thing into Google Translate so I have an English version I can skim for the context. It's helpful because Google Translate gives extremely bad TLs in terms of English readability so I don't adopt its phrasing into my own TL, but it also gets juuuust enough right that I can identify what the gist of events is. Like if a chapter cold opens on a fight scene and only five paragraphs later clarifies the location of said fight, then the rough MTL lets me know whether I should be translating something as a wall (indoor fight) or barrier (dungeon fight), for example. Also helpful for pronouns, since Korean doesn't use those the way English does; if the character isn't named right off the bat, I don't want to be writing every sentence like "[PRONOUN] looked at [PRONOUN]self in the mirror, noting the dark circles under [PRONOUN] eyes", then have to go back to fill in the blanks 5 minutes later, you know?

I also make style guides for every story I'm translating, which I refer back to while working so I can keep the translations consistent. Whenever we're in a new setting or something gets brought up for the first time, I add it to the style guide for future reference. There's a lot of stuff in the guides that's probably only mentioned a few times, but at least I don't have to translate from scratch each of those few times!

The general style guide has stuff like number/unit formats, honorifics, and notes on spellings I mix up often (I try to use American English for consistency, although personally I prefer a combination of American/Commonwealth spellings (USA you are just wrong about worshiped, it's worshipped!! Do you say shiped?? Huh????)).

The story-specific style guides let me keep track of special names—places, characters, and more—but also things like system message formats. For My S-Ranks, I also have separate sections for the regions with lots of unique terminology (the VR dungeon and China so far, more to come).

Below are some examples from the general style guide and the S-Ranks-specific one.

Oh, one part of the style guide might also be helpful to any S-Ranks fic writers out there—here's the special characters I've been using for system admin messages such as "η๐┰ ሃ๐∪ዩ բმ∪┗┰" from chapter 53. (No replacements for B, J, K, M, Q, V, X, and Z because those haven't been needed so far.)

A: მ

C: င

D: Ð, ∂

E: ∈

F: բ

G: ₲, ૭

H: ዞ, ђ

I: エ, 𝔦

L: ┗

N: η

O: ○, ๐

P: የ

R: ዩ

S: ડ

T: ┰

U: ∪

W: ￦

Y: ሃ

Anyway! Hope that sheds some light on the translation process, at least the way I do it. Let me know if you have any more questions or requests! This was fun.

[all-pacas]

camchase as a hilson parallel except it’s chase who is 100% wilson and cameron who is 160% house

[heybiji]

ialso love playign superhero ttrpgs can i ask what the Masks ttrpg is? i love finding neww hero themed ttrpgs ^-^ yay!

Ohhh!! Hey! i love getting to talk ttrpg stuff thanks for the question!

MASKS: A New Generation is a superhero ttrpg about teenagers all trying to figure out who they are in a world filled with people constantly telling them who they are and how the world works. It's less about the powers and the fights and more about the emotional journey of the PCs with mechanics that support that. It's a really narratively driven game!

tldr: try it out! it's fun! it's simple! and it's low-prep (apparently, just not for me, but i'm always just gonna do Too Much). you want a system with mechanics that revolve around telling a story? around your character's emotions and how they view themselves? this is the one for you! it's great and i've really been enjoying it!!

First of all, it's a fail-forward system, so the way your character levels (advanced) is by missing rolls. I like this a lot.

There are ten core playbooks that are essentially the classes you can choose from. They each come with their own powers, some intentionally more impressive than others, but it's not about the powers; it's about the core conflict that comes with each of the archetypes. Here are a few playbook examples:

The Delinquent: You've got these cool powers. But everyone keeps telling you how to use 'em. You know what they need? Someone to give them trouble, to make sure they don't always get their way. And hey! You're the perfect her to do it.

The Legacy: You're the latest in a storied heroic lineage, a family that shares a name and a cause. Now, everybody is watching and waiting to see if you've got what it takes to uphold that tradition. No Pressure, right?

The Nova: You're a font of power. Channel it, and you can remake the world into exactly what you want. Unleash it, and you can do miracles. It's wonderful... and terrifying. Lose control for even a second, and other people get hurt.

Your stats are your Labels. They're how you see yourself, and how others see you. The Labels are DANGER, FREAK, SAVIOR, SUPERIOR, and MUNDANE. Different stats help with different Moves/rolls, so for example a high DANGER stat helps you Directly Engage a Threat, while a low MUNDANE stat makes it harder for you to Comfort or Support Someone. Your Labels are constantly being shifted around throughout the game as your character's self-image changes (and that self-image changes a lot, basically the NPCs are just label shifting machines).

The mechanics are fun! Instead of traditional damage, the PCs have Conditions that they take on, and what conditions a character has affects their rolls. The Conditions are Afraid, Angry, Guilty, Hopeless, and Insecure. So if you're Angry you take -2 on your roll to do the move Comfort or Support Someone, if you're Afraid, it's -2 on Directly Engage a Threat, etc. There are multiple ways to clear your conditions but the most straightforward way is to take a particular action, so if you're Angry you have to hurt someone or break something important, and if you're Afraid you have to run from something difficult. These actions lead to some awesome and surprising story beats!

There's some other stuff as well, but that's the gist!

Coming from DND, it took me some time to adjust to something so wildly different in terms of the system, but I've been enjoying it! I haven't gotten to play it as a PC, but running it has been an interesting challenge. I think it's a pretty simple system to work with, and I at least hear it's low-prep (again not for me tho lol). It's mechanically looser than the only other ttrpg I've played (dnd) and requires a lot more decision making from the whole table, so I think in a way it asks more of its players in that way. And the GM role is constantly on in a specific way, because it's up to the GM to listen and call out when a Move is being triggered and a roll should be made based on what the characters are doing in any particular scene.

anyway I can always have more to say but MASKS has been fun. I recommend giving it a shot! And then you should tell me what you thought about it!!

[starry-sophrosyne]

me realizing i havent ever posted my initial designs for tox and leo/ive stopped talked about ttos as a whole:

[pardonmydelays]

all jokes aside, our show is in sixteen days and i've never been more anxious about anything in my entire life

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[life-is-lifeing-hard]

life lifes hard when your birthday aligns with the busiest days of the school year that celebrating feels really awkward and time-consuming. Your friends would like to, but they're also busy so you have to figure out how to mention it. Your family drags it out for too long that you end up being irritated about the 5 full assignments due in 3 hours. You get weirdly existential but you can't mention it to anyone, really, so you're feeling all that as you go through the day.

Then life lifes harder when you look back to see the fading magic of your birthday from your childhood. You wish it to return, really.

[iri-desky]

GET KOSA TRENDING.

STOP SCROLLING NOW!

AS OF FEBRUARY 21ST, 2024, WE GOT FIVE DAYS UNTIL THE DAY OF DECISION OF THE KOSA BILL, WHICH WILL CAUSE MASS CENSORSHIP ROUND THE INTERNET IF PASSED. WE NEED EVERYONE TO KNOW ABOUT THIS AND CONTRIBUTE. I'M NOT GIVING UP ON YOU ALL.

(IMPORTANT UPDATE: Kosa will not necessarily pass on the 26th. It only has the support to pass in Senate, and we STILL HAVE TIME. That being said, time is of the essence.)

WE'RE DOWN TO THE WIRE BUT WE CAN'T GIVE UP YET. IF WE GIVE UP, EVERYTHING IS OVER. IF WE DON'T, AT LEAST WE HAVE A CHANCE.

I'M THE ONE WHO SOUNDED THE ALARM, AND I'M NOT GOING TO CURL UP AND DIE YET.

Reblog this post in every LEGAL way you can under the Tumblr guidelines with the appropriate tags. TELL AND TAG EVERYONE YOU KNOW, then add the tags to see below... and more if you can think of any complying.

Visit badinternetbills.com if you want to find a way to defeat KOSA. It WILL NOT take much of your time. Reblog with any other information or sources, too-- but make sure to reblog if you can.

Reblog if you support lgbtq+ content.

Reblog if you support questioning queer youth and/or abused youth getting the information they need.

Reblog if you support Ao3 and/or other sites that wholeheartedly preserve talentedly made media.

Reblog if you're going to repost this on other sites than Tumblr and spread the word across Twitter, Tik Tok, Pinterest, or elsewhere, alongside the link to badinternetbills.com.

Reblog if you think KOSA is unfair and shouldn't be anyone's problem -- including the adults ALL OVER THE DAMN EARTH forced to face the mass censorship it causes because "think of the American Children!".

Reblog if you support internet activism and Palestine.

Reblog if you hate fascism or censorship, and don't want actually serious and helpful conversations censored on the internet.

Reblog if you value the internet in any way at all whatsoever.

CHECK THIS PETITION, TOO! https://www.change.org/p/stop-the-kosa?recruiter=1331807538&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=sms&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_initial&utm_term=psf&recruited_by_id=57368c40-d0fd-11ee-98f7-2175430f819f&share_bandit_exp=initial-36809664-en-US

(Also, please reblog with at least "stop kosa" as a tag and not "kosa". I made the mistake of not adding just "kosa" as a tag...)

We won't let this stand any longer. Let's start a riot and get this trending.

(Update: this is outdated, but we should still talk about it. Get Kosa trending.)

[pockycigar]

okayyy besides the initial oc post im js queueing up old doodles while i actually get the courage to post genuine lore for the supernormals.

[novella-november]

Novella November 2024 Announcement Post

Hate AI, but love writing challenges?

Want to take part in a global, fun project to write a Novella in one month?

Grab some friends, and take part in Novella November, by writing 1,000 words a day for the month of November, ending with a 30,000 word Novella to test and stretch your novel-writing skills!

Your goal is not perfection, but merely getting into the habit of writing a litte bit every single day :D

No website, no sign-ups -- Just a community initiative to write using only your own word!

What are the rules? Just Three so far!

#1 - No AI

#2 - No Plagiarizing

#3 - Wordcount for the month should only come from what you write during the month.

What does that mean?

Only words written during November should go towards your Wordcount for the month... but! Feel free to use your 30k words as a continuation of previous writing, or just make it the first 30k words in a longer novel!

Don't think you can write a whole entire 30k word story? Write a series of short stories that total up to 30k!

Not ready to write original works yet? Write a 30k word fanfiction that you can post after the month is over!

Share your writing experience, tips, encouragement, and questions in the #Novella November tag!

---

EDIT, from the tags: Want a progress tracker? Track your progress with TrackBear!

https://trackbear.app/

Don't have a word processor? Use LibreOffice , the free and open-source alternative to Microsoft Word!

Want to organize/storyboard your Novel and don't want to pay a subscription? Try 7writer by Simon Haynes!

Want to be able to listen to your story aloud for proofreading using TTS (text to speech)? Try Balabolka!

Or, create some custom progress / Goal Cards in advance you can fill out as you reach word goals! For ideas and templates, search this blog for "goal cards" :D

Want to do a writing challenge in more than just November? Check out my ideas here for year round challenges to keep you writing consistently! Got feedback? Send it in, I'd love to see everyone's ideas!

---

EDIT 2: I almost forgot to mention, if you are unable to write/type your story, you can also narrate/dictate your story to your preferred recording device!

If you're doing a Recording only and it doesn't automatically generate a transcript, it would obviously be hard to judge the word count -- but you're also working with a lot of obstacles, so I'd say if you're able to complete your story via voice recording from start to finish, you've definitely achieved the goal!

Edit #3: added the title "Novella November 2024 announcement post" to the top to make it more standard with my Ominous October and Drabble December posts (will be updating Outline October shortly) , added "Official Announcement Post 2024" to the tags so people can easily find the monthly events for 2024, and added a bit of bold to the third bullet point in the original post from September 2nd 2024 for emphasis.

[simpjaes]

HYPER-SEXUAL (s,jy)

If there’s anything in life that Jake wants, it’s to fuck. All day, every day, it’s on his mind. He fantasizes constantly, watches porn every free chance he gets, and ultimately has grown bored of his own hand to satiate his need. or the one where jake is inexperienced, incredibly perverted, and borderline addicted to sex but cannot, for the life of him, land a girl.

leave feedback and reblog to give jake another boner. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 13.8k

PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader

CONTENT― smut, inexperienced but pervy and dominant jake, he kind of has an addiction to jerking off, im not joking like he has a boner every twenty minutes it’s probably a medical issue but, reader is really sex positive and lets jake go absolutely insane on her

NOTE― not proof read in the way it needed to be.  disclaimer: this is straight up just porn. it had a plot at one point but i deleted all of it and wrote this instead. also this is posted on my other blog [@ncteez] for mark lee. yes, i wrote it for both of them bc they both fit the shoe ok? ok.

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― jake isn’t submissive– just a loser, loads of masturbation, also loads of loads lmfao, jake’s dick is 8 inches in this one, public humiliation, dirty talk, teasing, pussy eating / face sitting, mentions of free use, unprotected sex, wayyyy way too much cum, raw grinding, attempts at deep throat, accidental face fucking, finger fucking, suffocation, riding, squirting, implications to the fact that orgasms are not the end of the fic bc they just keep going, some say they’re still fucking to this day. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Feels so good! Harder! Fuck m-” 

Jake slams his laptop shut in an exasperated sigh. Frustrated, annoyed, fucking horny. 

Always horny. To the point that nothing excites him anymore. Not his hard-on being palmed at by his own hand, not the make-shift pocket pussy he’s made out of household objects, not the porn on page one or on page seventy-three. 

Honestly, even as hard as he is now, it’s arguable that he could just start punching his cock and he’d still remain in this state until something changes. And you know what sucks more than not being able to get off? Being hard so constantly that it’s just a state of living at this point. 

It’s sad. He could be washing caked ketchup off of a plate and his cock would still lend a little jump. A reminder that his hand is no longer enough. A fucking threat that if he doesn’t sink into a pretty hole soon, he might as well just kill himself. 

The idea doesn’t seem too bad anymore, as he lays flat on his back with his cock in hand on his messy sheets. He stares up at the ceiling with another long-winded groan, wondering why he has to have such an insatiable libido and probably twice as much stamina. If he could just get off he’d have at least a little bit of time in his day to feel normal before it takes hold of his brain again. 

It’s the fact that he’s grown entirely numb to his own hand and feels like he’s going crazy because he hasn’t been able to hook-up with anyone in nearly a year. Porn is boring, he swears he’s seen just about all of the good, bad, and bizarre. Post nut clarity barely exists because there is no clarity by the time he finally gets that hard-to-reach nut. Bad luck, maybe. Awful fucking miserable luck? That’s more fitting. 

For the sake of the girls in this city, perhaps it’s good that he can’t manage to land a hook-up. Surely they’d be unable to walk by the time he gets his fill, that is if he manages to get a fill at all. And it’s gotten to the point that Jake has almost entirely given up on finding a girl at all. One that’s willing to put up with his near-constant need to get his dick wet, anyway. 

Almost given up.

A thought crosses his mind as he lazily palms himself with a bored sigh, knowing he’ll end up locked up in an asylum somewhere if this doesn’t stop. The voice of Jay in his head doing little to make his cock soften, which is…not something Jake is proud to admit.

“Dude, you gotta put a stop to this shit. This is your third laptop this year!” Jay had said to him. “It’s only June!”

Maybe Jay was right, and maybe Jake should have downloaded the new app that was mentioned shortly after the scolding rather than immediately going to another, even more, shady porn site. “Heard this one was really good.” Jay had advertised. “Even got Jungwon laid.” 

Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to try another app despite the immense amount of failure Jake has already faced regarding previous attempts with other platforms. After all, if it got Jungwon laid, surely it could get him laid too. 

Maybe this one really is better.

And at the end of the day, Jake does download the app. After all, creating a profile is easy, finding a girl though? 

We’ll see.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ah. Okay. Nice.

Jake stays glued to his phone all night. He really had no hope that this app would offer him anything more than what the others did. But, oh. 

The app allows specific features, most of which are not aimed towards users looking for a relationship. Dick and body sizes are out in the open, there’s sections you can fill out regarding what you’re looking for in a sexual partner, how often you’re willing to see said partner, and if you’re looking for a regular fuck or a one time fuck. 

Safe to say, Jake’s profile went a little something like this: 

you can call me jake, im 24. just looking for a girl either for regular visits or a one night stand that’s willing to deal with a guy who literally suffers from chronic-boner syndrome.

LOOKING FOR: Female PREFERENCE: One Time Only, Occasional Meetups, On-call, Regular meetups, Permanent Friends-With-Benefits, Secret Meet, Virtual Meet, Audio Meet, Rebound C…[Click to see more] PARTNER REQUIREMENTS: N/A SIZE REFERENCE: 8 ½” hard, 4” soft, 5.6” circumference SEXUAL INTERESTS: Vanilla, Free Use, BDSM, Begging, Breeding, Dom/Sub, Dominatrix, CBT, Role Play, Public Humiliation, Edging, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Virtual Sex, Group Sex, Humiliation, Cock Play, Cum Dump, Religion, Raw, Multiple Orgasms, Androgyny, Genital Piercings, Older Women, Body Art, Wax, Anal, Financial Domina...[Click to see more]

NOT INTERESTED IN: Cuckolding, Voyeurism OTHER: im not very experienced in most of these, i just watch a lot of porn

Embarrassing? Yeah, probably. 

Looks like a lot of women are into that though if his inbox is anything to go by, anyway. With him checking the app every few minutes to find ten new messages? Yeah, they’re feeling him. 

He can only imagine what the fuck Jungwon had on his profile to actually land a hook-up. Couldn’t have been any worse than his own, after all, Jake is desperate and so was Jungwon at one point. 

Apparently girls like desperate guys. 

Message after message, degrading comments and praise, all from either women clad in leather or sweet looking church girls who must have the app hidden deep within their phones. There’s barely anyone in between those two categories, actually. 

“Hi baby boy, you looking for a sugar mama?” 

“ur dick really that big? lol, what do you even mean by ‘chronic boner syndrome’?” 

“you’re so desperate to get laid, might as well just doxx yourself at this point…please.”

Arguably, these women are very forward and he has a great time sifting through the ones he’s interested in. Scrolling through all of these messages….does not help his case regarding his insatiable need to fuck something either so, naturally, he’s also 100% jerking off the entire time he’s doing this.

Still, never quite able to reach the orgasm he needs by this point.

Up until there’s a message that catches his attention. No degrading, no insults, no borderline-too-kinky insinuations. Which, given, Jake probably shouldn’t have selected the majority of the kinks just to pull more girls, but he did. 

And upon reading the message, he almost doesn’t know if this girl is real. 

“High libido, no girls around to help you out, I take it? Rough.”

One look at her profile spikes even more interest. Her sexual interests include a list of things he wishes he didn’t fit. But he does, though he’d never admit it. Inexperienced men, losers, virgins, micro-penis, big penis, praise (receiving), body worship–

Oh.

Fuck yeah.

He responds quickly, already feeling the orgasm within him bubble up as he tries to pretend he doesn’t go on a war path of responding to everyone after you, but still. Your message box with him remains in his mind as he awaits the response to his message of “you looking to help me out?” 

Every ping on his phone afterwards makes his cock twitch more, makes it dribble out little beads of pre-cum with each pass of his palm, only for him to sigh out of frustration that it’s just another person that wants to devour him whole. Which, he’ll take what he can get if his first choice never responds but still. He wants to get off to you.

He finds himself on your profile more often than anyone else’s too, looking at the same three photos you’ve posted, noting how you don’t seem super active on the app, but active enough to find him by some beautiful grace of God. 

You’re kind of perfect, honestly. Fairly mundane compared to most of the women in his inbox, but cool nonetheless. He can tell you have an eye for fashion but it seems to be more geared towards your real life self rather than the secret fetish/kink app you’ve got downloaded.

And that’s the thing. Most of these women, beautiful or not, are dressed in their best sexual attire just to message a possible fuck, while during their daily lives they probably wear conservative dresses and pant suits. Which….arguably that’s kind of hot. Then again, what isn’t hot to him these days?

You though. You have normal pictures posted just like he does. Your tits aren’t out, your legs aren’t open, you don’t have a pile of sex toys behind or beside you and yet still your pictures turn him on more than those who do. Insane how his cock twitches at just these three photos, fucking insane how he grows a near instant obsessed thinking about how you…uh, deal with the losers you seem to be looking for.  

Then again, maybe it’s the mystery of what’s under your clothes, or what’s in your stash of sex toys. Oh, whatever you’re hiding has got be so fucking hot. Naturally, he groans at the amount of sexuality you barely give. Thinking far, far too hard about it all, given the circumstances. 

Don’t get him wrong, he can get down with the hoes. In fact, he very much wants to get down with a hoe. But man, the way you stand out because you’re somehow….boring compared to everyone else?

Please.

Fucking pretty please, let him in between those thighs. 

And just as he scrolls again through your photos, that long-awaited orgasm hits him like a brick.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A mere two days later you find yourself in the inbox with the self-proclaimed boner-god. He’s since proven his size with photos involving different objects beside said penis, and even a video or two of his frantic hands jerking off to you. 

Ah, he’s kind of perfect if you think about it. At first you thought that it was just roleplay for him or something. Where he plays a guy who can’t get enough, though he clearly probably does. It wasn’t until you were woken up at four in the morning with him spamming your inbox that you suddenly realized this dude is actually as desperate as he seems. 

Normally, being spammed awake by your phone pinging consistently would bother you. But goddamn was he needing it. Just three hours before now it was mostly casual conversation with him, albeit about hooking-up, but still. The two of you agreed to determine on the following day if you were compatible enough for a meet up. He said goodnight to you, and you said it back. 

Then you woke up to three dick pics, one voice note with a borderline pathetic apology (only because you could still hear him going at it), and then like fourteen messages of him trying to wake you up intentionally. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You awake?

Dick pic #1. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You’re so pretty, sorry lol

Dick pic #2 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Wake uppppppppppp! 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Please? :(

Dick pic #3, precum smeared across his fingers as he grips it. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Do you already have me silenced?

JAKE_02 sent you a message: I’d let you silence me hahaha….

JAKE_02 sent you a voice memo: “Sorry about all this, I really meant it when I said I have a problem. You should probably just block me because I’m going to end up begging to see you otherwise”

Oh, he has an accent. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: your profile says you like inexperience…..well i’ve only slept with like 3 girls, is that inexperienced enough?

JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like to tease guys like that? like edge them and stuff? 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: oh damn, that’d be so hot 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like it when guys beg btw? 

Etcetera. 

And, well, apparently he just has a lot to say. It’s cute how embarrassed he must feel basically getting himself off with a one-sided sext session with you as you were sleeping. At least, you hope he’s embarrassed. 

You let his messages simmer for a while, waiting to see if he sends anything else. And when he doesn’t, you respond. 

YOURUSERNAME: that was cute. 

It’s the way he’s instantly trying to respond that really gets you going. You chuckle first, knowing already that you’d probably help him out based on this situation alone. 

YOURUSERNAME: trying to wake me up because you can’t stop touching yourself? :( poor baby. 

JAKE_02: oh god please don’t say that

JAKE_02: im gonna end up awake all night trying to get it to go down again

YOURUSERNAME: that’s good to hear. so you can go for a long time then? 

Yes, you’re teasing him. 

JAKE_02: if you’d let me

YOURUSERNAME: you already got off tonight tho, didn’t you?

JAKE_02: i don’t think you understand just how bad it is. i’m already getting my dick out again

You lend yourself a sly chuckle after a deep yawn, knowing for a fact that you’re about to make him prove to you that he’s either still hard or really did get off only to get hard again by a mere few messages from you. 

YOURUSERNAME: show me?

And he does. Similar to the other three photos, only this time he sends a short video with his shorts pushed down his thighs and his cock raging hard and pathetic against his stomach. Again, he’s big, that much is true, but the fact that such a dick is always ready to fuck? To the point he’s desperate? To the point he’s embarrassing about it?

YOURUSERNAME: how bad do you wanna bury that in me?

Oh, shit. Jake could fucking die right now. You seem so willing, which is truly what he needs at this point in his sexual sickness.  

JAKE_02: i’ll come over right now. 

JAKE_02: let me come over and show you

YOURUSERNAME: let’s wait a bit for that, gotta meet officially before I let you fuck me

And you do intend to make him wait, knowing for a fact that you’re not meeting this guy tonight. There’s too much danger in that. Given how desperate he actually is, you can argue that if you changed your mind upon meeting, he very well may not care. Which, that’s something you need to worry about with any person you meet on such an app, but still.

Public meeting first. 

Always.

JAKE_02: right, right, that makes sense. 

JAKE_02: so can i see your pussy then

You stifle a laugh as if the man can hear you, he’d probably like that though. But yeah, no. As much as you know he’d enjoy that, it’s best to let him experience it for the first time in real life if all of this goes well. So, you settle with tits. 

Meaning, he has to settle with them too. 

And the photo is all but enough for Jake. The ping of his phone was far too exciting with the flash of the image sinking into his eyes. Sure, he wanted to see your hole open for him, he wanted to see your pretty hands spreading your lips for the picture, he wanted to see what he might get to fuck into someday– but…

This is good enough for him, honestly. Seeing your tits alone is hot enough, but it’s the fact that you only barely let him see. The plush skin of your lower breasts are peeking from under the shirt you're wearing, one nipple barely out, the other completely hidden. 

He moans out at it, holding his cock tight and painfully as he glares into the screen of his phone. God, he can almost taste it. 

JAKE_02: thats so hot…but….

JAKE_02: pussy….

JAKE_02: please show me your pussy

Another chuckle at how desperate he really is. You lower your phone just a bit, not at all intending to show him all of it but you do lend a panty shot with your legs spread. He’ll live with it, he doesn’t have a choice. 

And he does live with it because he cums almost instantly upon seeing just your thighs open. He wouldn’t have been able to hit climax so quickly had you already had this photo posted for all to see. It’s the fact that you sent it to him in the dms. It’s the fact that you presumably just took it for him. It’s the fact that he can almost see the outline of your folds, and the lines of your pussy that deserves to fucked open. 

When he doesn’t respond immediately, you know it was enough for him. Already you’re preparing to roll back over and get some more sleep, but your phone dings again. 

JAKE_02: tht was hot lol….um

JAKE_02: can u come to the mall tomorrow? i work at [redacted store name], u can come see that im actually very normal if u want

You stop for a second through another yawn, thinking long and hard about it. You shrug to yourself because tomorrow is a saturday and there’s plenty of public spaces to meet him in. And despite how fun it could be to tease him for weeks on end before officially meeting him, you, yourself, have been in a dry-spell lately. 

And he fits your interests perfectly. In other words, yeah, you could fuck.

YOURUSERNAME: you sure you’re not gonna take me in the back and fuck me on the spot? 

JAKE_02: ….would u want me to? 

YOURUSERNAME: no, i wanna bring you home if i think you could make me feel good

JAKE_02: hahah damn

JAKE_02: so you’ll come see me?

YOURUSERNAME: yeah, i’ll come see you

JAKE_02: ok cool :)

And then it’s silent for a long while. In fact, you’re nearly asleep again when your phone pings one last time. All you need to see is the notification to know that meeting Jake is gonna be fun. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: for the record…i definitely will fuck you good

Sounds promising. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You knew he was cute but holy shit, he’s like, cute cute.

Fucking handsome and charmingly cute. 

Perhaps even, hot. 

You stand from around a shelf to check him out. That same accent you’ve heard previously rings loud and clear in your head, and his hair is definitely a stylistic mess, the type of hair you can imagine grabbing and tugging to guide a tongue between your legs. His eyes are pretty and piercing yet equally as filled with some sort of wonder. His hands, his body.

 Oh wow. 

On any other day, you’d think he’s just some poser emo-guy working a shitty retail job so he can buy his first guitar and play it totally out of tune. But on this day, you’re aware that this is a man with a need that you very much wouldn’t mind satisfying. 

 Seeing him go about his work tasks behind the counter is another thing. Checking customers out both through the register and with his eyes when they walk away. You know he isn’t aware that you’ve actually shown up, and it feels nice to watch him in his element before he attempts to play himself up as a totally normal, cool dude. Especially now that you can see him secretly be a pervert on the clock. 

Customer after customer, he smiles at them when he hands them their items, he offers small talk and little chuckles that ring in your ears, and every single time one of the pretty ones walks away, his head turns to watch them leave for a few seconds too long.

Anyone can tell he needs it if they watch him for long enough. 

You’re not sure why this guy is getting to you the way he is, but there’s just something about the way that he carries himself in public that turns you on. You already know for a fact that he’s a horny motherfucker. You know that behind those charming smiles and laughs, he’s got a neglected cock needing to be used. 

No one else in this store is aware of it. You’re the only person here who knows he was spamming a stranger last night with dick pics and begging to see her pussy. 

It’s hot. 

And when you approach, Jake nearly doesn’t even know it’s you at first. 

“Hi, did you find everything you–” Jake stops mid sentence. “Oh, fuck. You’re here.”  He adds, trying to primp his hair into a spot that may look a little better than it did already.

You watch as he studies you for the first time, nervously darting his tongue out and against his bottom lip just for a split second before shifting his eyes behind you, and then turning to look around to see if anyone is within ear shot. 

No one is paying attention to either of you, and no one is going to hear what you’re about to say to him. Good.

“Do you wanna see my pussy?” 

It’s a joke, mostly. Kinda. 

You chuckle at his stunned reaction. His hands move to the counter as he clutches it and continuously looks around to make sure no one just heard those lewd ass words from a girl so goddamn hot. Like, oh god, it’s you. You really showed up to see him and already he’s not acting normal. 

No, no. You’re the one acting out of pocket, not him.

“I’m–” He tries to start, but his voice cracks in a very, very, embarrassing way. You hear him clear his throat before continuing. “I’m supposed to be showing you that I’m normal.” 

You tilt your head at him playfully, leaning against the counter and pushing your tits together with your arms. You wore this shirt here for a reason, and boy are you glad you did. You watch his eyes go straight to your chest and stay there. 

“Public Humiliation.” You echo one of his sexual interests to him from his app profile. “Dirty talk.”

Jake swallows around his words in stunned silence, feeling his cock wake up immediately. Fuck, this is the only place he finds peace of mind from…that. Yet here you are, with that soft and pretty voice reminding him of everything he wants but hasn’t been able to have. Standing there like you know he can’t bend you over right now and make you stop talking.

“Eight and a half inches hard.” You continue, leaning in even closer and moving your hand to the collar of your shirt. Tugging down just a little bit. “Five point six inch circumference.” 

Jake squeezes his eyes shut as he leans back with a sigh, pressing his hips against the counter for some sort of relief. To think the “boring” girl on the app wouldn’t be like this? God, he knew there had to be a catch considering you were on that app to find him in the first place. 

“Please–” He groans as his ears redden, lazily opening his eyes to look at your tits again. “Please don’t do this to me.” 

“I can imagine you’d fit it in me just right, wouldn’t you Jake?” You continue briefly, noting the bulge he blatantly presses against the counter. “Can you say ‘please’ again? It’s kinda hot.” 

“Please–” Jake blatantly groans now, his voice sounding hoarse and low. As much as he wants you to keep going, he’s at fucking work. He can’t be doing this. 

“Okay!” You gleefully agree as you switch up like you didn’t just fuck him up, lending him a bright and innocent smile as you lean back and away from him. “So you don’t want to see my pussy then?”

His relieved face falls right back into that of pained frustration as he narrows his eyes at you. 

“Right now?” He asks curiously, nodding his head without realizing it. Sure, he’s at work but like….your pussy is also at his work place right now.

“Yeah! Can you show me to the fitting room, actually?” You ask, louder this time in case anyone has moved around within ear-shot by now. Can’t make him lose his job, or whatever.

Jake swallows thickly with a nod, his eyes still narrowed at you but his mind racing a mile a minute at the fact that you’re really here right now, and this is what you’re doing to him? Enjoying his pain? Enjoying his suffering? Making it worse? 

Five minutes ago he was perfectly fine. You’re using his need against him and god, he loves it. Yeah, maybe he will take you to the back and try to fuck you at this point. Even if you said that you wouldn’t let him…what the fuck is this then? 

Really, he expected you to show up with an awkward hello and irritating small talk. He wanted to show you that he’s not always thinking about sex. Except he is, and it seems you want him to. You want him to think about fucking you. 

You really just walked into this establishment and asked him if he wants to see your pussy.

Of course he wants to see it. You already fucking know that. He wants to fuck it too, like, right now. 

And as he walks you to the fitting room, he has to try his damndest to adjust his growing cock. He nods to each customer as he walks by them, hands repeatedly going back to his lap to hide what he’s packing.

“Here it is.” Jake says in an unfocused voice, nearly staring a hole through you. “Now show me.” 

You dip your head in a smile, heading for the room and opening the curtain. Cheap ass store, really, most places have actual doors, but whatever. 

It’s easy to step inside and leave the curtain skewed a bit, knowing that Jake is hovering around the room, knowing that it’s probably protocol that an employee assist this space when it’s in use to prevent stealing and to prevent others from walking in on naked customers. 

You like the way you see him take peeks, trying to be discreet. You like the way he keeps his hands in front of his lap, hiding that you’ve definitely made him a mess of him already. You love the way he whispers a curse to himself when you sit against the bench in this small room and spread your legs wide open. 

You bet he loves the skirt you’re wearing for him today too. Though this wasn’t exactly planned or anything, you didn’t expect to be this turned on upon seeing him act as desperate as he sounds. You wore this shirt so he can look, and the skirt too…but looking this much wasn’t in your mind originally. 

He’s hot though. The way he needs it is hot. 

“Hurry up.” He groans, trying to make it seem like he’s frustrated but you know it’s just because he’s anxiously horny. 

And, well, you’re not actually gonna show him your pussy, but at this point you feel bad because he seems really stiff right now, almost robotic in the way he likely feels uncomfortably aroused in his least favorite place.  

“Jake,” You whisper-chuckle. “If you wanna see it, you’re gonna have to come in here and take my panties off of me.”

You hear him sigh, and see his eyes flick back to you through the small open space in the curtain. 

“You’re insane. I can’t come in there, I’ll lose my job.” He argues with a hushed tone, eyes fixated on the very panties he wishes he could remove. 

Even against his protests though, he reaches an arm in as he looks away. As if on extreme watch of other customers and employees roaming around. Probably pretending to grab a garment that doesn’t work for you, probably just doing normal, good-employee things. 

And, well, it’s pathetic really, the way he hopes for more. The way you offer more knowing he can’t get exactly what he wants. You actually feel a bit bad for doing this, especially because it wasn’t entirely in the plan. 

You really were just coming to meet him. It’s not your fault that watching him work turned you on solely because you know what he needs. So, you stand and walk towards the curtain, grabbing his arm and holding it in place. 

“Well–” You start, pressing yourself against the backside of his fingers, feeling him move his hand slightly against your clit. “Touch it then.”

He goes entirely silent but you feel the way he fumbles his hand, immediately grabbing your panties and moving them to the side just to really feel. And you let him, finding it somehow cuter in the way he doesn’t even ask. He does it like he needs to, like it’s instinctual to touch it. He feels for a second or two, probably closer to about five seconds before you step back. Really, it’s enough for him to know you’re wet, enough for him to suffer, enough for him to want more. 

Jake’s brain is on fire at it. Touching it before getting to see it? Goddamn, you’re so fucking mean.

And it’s silent for a few more moments after that as Jake keeps his hand in place, seemingly searching for a pussy just out of reach when you slide the fabric down your legs and place them directly into his hand. 

“When do you get off work?” You ask slyly now, ripping the curtain open and moving his hand for him, forcing him to shove your panties in his pocket. 

“Uh–” He stutters, swallowing again around his words before clearing his throat of the moan he really needs to let out right now. “Seven– I get off at seven.”

You nod with a smile, leaning in real close before patting his pocket. 

“I’ll text you my address.” 

And you leave without sparing him another glance, knowing that by the time his shift is over, he’ll probably pounce the second you open your door for him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake suffers through the rest of his shift aggressively trying not to suck on his fingers. Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad, but to go as low as sucking the remnants for several hours just to hold him over? Truly, he’s at his wits end. 

Mostly because he absolutely does suck his fingers any chance he gets. Tapping his lips with them as he sees a customer off, licking against them discreetly, trying to make it look normal for him to have his fingers in his mouth so consistently. 

It’s not doing anything to hold him over though. 

He keeps glancing at the clock, and then at the message that reads your address. Just one more hour and he can leave. Just one more hour and he can bury his cock so deep into you that you’d never think twice about letting him do it again, and again, and again.

Oh god, really, he feels like he’s going insane as he checks out customer after customer. Every word they say somehow reminds him that he’s about to finally get laid again. 

“Can you wrap this up for me?” One customer said to him, nodding to a set of candles. 

Jake wishes you’d wrap him up in that pussy. 

“Do you have this in a bigger size?” Another customer had said to him as they held up a plush sweater. 

Jake doesn’t think you’d ever need a dick bigger than his. He’ll fill you up just right. 

“69.99?!” One customer argues. “The sign said it was 30% off!” 

Jake would sixty nine you all night long if you asked. He bets you taste sweet, you probably get really wet too. 

And by the end of the night, rain pounding on the roof, his last customer unfortunately has to hear a low groan leave his throat at their comments. He’s very quick to cover it with a cough. 

“Sorry for coming in right before you close, the rain is bad tonight and I forgot my umbrella, thank god you guys sell them! I didn’t mean to drip all over the floor like this, I hope you don’t have to stay late cleaning up my mess!” 

“I didn’t mean to drip all over your floor like this” Replays in his head, over and over again. God, he’d make you drip. He hopes you drip all over the floor for him. He’d get on his knees and lick it right up, god.

He needs to leave. Right now.

“S’all good,” Jake shakes his head after the initial moan and cough cover, trying to remain casual. “It’s my job to clean it up, after all.” He smiles, his brain stuck on the feeling of how wet you were when he touched you. Shiiiit. “Have a good night, stay dry!” 

And finally, Jake can close out his register and lock the doors. That, he does. Performing his end-of-night tasks at lightning speed with a cock throbbing so bad that he worries he might have to get off in his car before making it to your apartment. He genuinely needs to get off, especially knowing these pretty panties are in his pocket ready to be soaked in his cum. 

He doesn’t though, no. He holds off, thrusting his hips up and against the inseam of his pants with every passing second as he drives. He’s practically writhing by the time he gets to your place. Honestly, he moans with each movement because he’s sensitive. It’s so, so fucking sensitive. Everything feels good, he could genuinely cum the second you open your door if he’s not careful. 

Careful isn’t something Jake can be at this moment though, not when he lands a single knock at your door and you’re immediately opening it, looking at him with that same fucking evil smile you gave to him while he was at work. 

He looks at you and instantly lets out a frustrated moan before stepping in without another word. You feel his hands grab you much harsher than you originally thought he would, but you let him as you laugh out in a nervous chuckle. 

“Hello to you too.” You pat him on the back as his arms wrap around your middle. You hear him kick back against your door, slamming it shut before his lips hit your neck. 

He isn’t talking but goddamn you can hear what he needs to say through the way he presses his lips against you. He’s rough with it, kissing all across your exposed skin before slipping his hand right between your legs from the back as if he doesn’t have to chase anymore. 

You were going to jerk your hips back to make him chase, but his grip is too tight and he’s nearly lifting you off the floor entirely to get a feel. You were going to force him to look at you and the outfit you changed into for him, but again, he’s not having it, it seems.  He moans when he moves his lips up and against yours, hot breath desperate and needy as he finally speaks.

“Did it turn you on to torture me like that?” He nearly growls against your lips. “Got me so fucking hard.” 

You’re genuinely surprised with how he’s acting and talking. Then again, he’s desperate, that much is obvious if that monster bulge rubbing against your leg is anything to go by. Perhaps he may be desperate, but you guess that doesn’t always mean someone will end up submissive as a side effect. 

“It did.” You smile against his lips, pushing yourself forward to try and plant your feet back on the ground, chasing the ability to gain control over him. “Did you like that?”

Jake nods before shaking his head, allowing you to push forward, loving the way your hands reach for him and run through his hair before tugging. He did like what you did, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was fucking torture to stand there at work like he wasn’t losing his mind. 

“I’d like it more if we skip all the bullshit,” He starts, hand still attempting to reach the spot between your legs and lips landing at the corner of your mouth. “Could go all night.”

You nod to him, gripping his shirt and pulling him back to your living room couch and spinning him around, only to shove him back. 

“Is that a promise?” You ask, looking at the lazy way he spreads his own legs and rests his head against your couch cushions, eyes staring straight at you and cock twitching in his pants. “You gonna fuck me all night?”

“Yeah–” He breathes as if he’s in disbelief, hand reaching between his legs just to grab himself and squeeze as his eyes trail your body. “You have no idea how bad I need this.”

“Show me then,” You nod your head to his length that’s hidden under his pants. “Let me watch you first.”

Jake groans, rolling his eyes back both out of frustration and arousal, but he does as you say. His palm feels better with you watching, at least. He doesn’t feel so numb to the pleasure with you promising your body to him, at least. He doesn’t mind proving his size to you by shoving his pants down to his thighs and presenting said neglected cock to you either. 

It’s heavy, dark in color due to the blood that’s likely rushing throughout every inch of it. He feels sensitive to even the air in your living room as he twitches and aches to hear you talk again, to see you in front of him watching how he pleasures himself, wishing his hand is yours. 

“You wanna watch?” He says in a low-rumbled voice, tracing his fingers along the head of his cock and seething out a breath through his now, bitten bottom lip. “Wanna know how tight I want you to feel?” He asks now, bold and in the heat of the moment. You watch him when he squeezes the base of his cock tightly, you can almost feel yourself choke at that alone. 

“How wet you need to be to take it?” He continues, dragging his hand back and licking his palm before spitting into it. 

The wetness against his hand is horrifyingly pornographic. So wet when he reaches back down to his length, allowing you to hear it squelch and slip with ease. His breath is hitched while he does it too, which nearly has you seeing him in tunnel vision.

“Yeah…” You tune into him entirely, swallowing around the lump in your throat and feeling yourself drip already. “I can’t imagine how good–” You cut yourself short to moan at the way his other hand holds his pants down while he jerks his hand up faster and faster. “Oh god, you’re–”

“Wanna see how fast I can cum just looking at you?” He continues, hand only moving faster and faster as his grip tightens more, shamelessly grunting proudly over how he could probably cum now if he wanted to. “I told you, I can go all night.”

You pause, because goddamn. You thought he would be embarrassing, pathetic, needy. You thought he would beg, plead, and cry. But…you feel like you’re the one who needs to do that. God, you’ve never seen a man so desperate to fuck yet be so powerful about it. As if he’s in your face whispering, “You’re gonna let me fuck you, right? You’re gonna love it too, right? You’re gonna let me use you to take care of this little problem of mine, right? It’s what you want, right?”

If he were to say those things to you right now, you’d nod without a doubt. But…he doesn’t. He simply looks at you now, heaving out broken moans that sound too sexy to be considered pathetic. His hips chase each movement of his hand and goddamn does he fuck his fist hard.

Your mind is spinning watching him, knowing that he’s probably going to fuck you twice as hard as he fucks himself. And it’s not surprising to you at least that you can feel your own clit swell and throb for touch too. You easily move your hand between your legs, standing right there in front of him, toying with yourself as if you don’t have the power to ask him to do it for you. 

“Ah, fuck–” Jake groans, thrusting his hips up into his hand one last time before strings of his cum make a mess on his shirt. And it seems to go on forever too, spurt after spurt of it pumping out of him alongside his pretty moans and open-mouthed expression. You can feel your body react to him more than it ever has for anyone else, especially in the way….

“God–” You moan yourself now, watching him spread his legs and slouch more against your couch with a relieved sigh from his messy orgasm. But…his cock doesn’t soften. No, it stays stiff and heavy against his stomach, twitching and dribbling more and more of his cum out in little beads. 

The proof of his issue is right here, he really can and probably will go all night. And you say nothing else to him after that. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to answer you if you did say something simply because you find yourself stepping up onto your own couch, resting your knees against the back of it, and gripping his hair. 

Jake lets out a half-moan-half-hum, as expected, when he feels your hand drag his face under your skirt. You didn’t have to do that, but goddamn does he fucking love it. He loves how he can feel your knees buckle and force you to balance on the couch, loves how your cunt is just as needy as he feels, fucking adores the way you drip all over his tongue when he pushes your panties to the side and starts licking you up. 

It’s the fact that he didn’t even have to ask you to put it in his face. The slight taste against his fingers all night at work is nothing compared to the way you drown him now. He needs to do this for you. Hell, he needs to do this for himself.

“Jesus,” You breathe, rolling your hips on his mouth. He’s truly eating you like his life depends on it. You can hear his muffled hums at the taste, you can feel his shoulder shake as he starts jerking off again, you can feel the way his tongue goes deeper and deeper, licking each clench of your walls, only to pull back and suck the wet from your panties in a deep breath. 

He coos at it too, as if he’s in love with the moment, as if he truly can’t believe he’s finally got a pussy to lick. And he swallows each mouth full of your slick before muttering curses and promises against your swollen little bud. 

“Please,” He moans, nipping and licking against you. “Been so long since I’ve eaten pussy, rub it on me- fuck-” he continues to babble, heat-of-the-moment-talk coming out as far more arousing than cringe if you listen hard through your ringing ears. “Come on,” He continues, now neglecting his own cock and gripping your ass with both hands, shoving you back and forth on his face in painfully slow and harsh grinds. “Come on, harder.”

As if you can function at all right now with how rough he is about trying to pleasure you? Fucking hell, the words ignite something in you as you pull back and away from him. For a split second, you see his blown out pupils and fucked up hair as he licks his lips and presents that shining lower-half of his face to you. 

You don’t look for long though, no. Because you’re too busy pushing him to the side and forcing him to lay back on the couch instead. You resume your position afterwards, straddling the couch on either side of his head with your knees and planting your pulsing cunt right on his eager tongue. 

“You’re too hot,” You moan, feeling his hands go straight back to your ass to force more of those harsh grinds against him. “If you could see yourself right now–” Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you feel his moaned out chuckle hit you right in the clit. It’s like he knows he makes you feel good, but does he really? 

Does he truly understand how fucking good at this he is?

 “God, if you could feel how good your tongue is–” You continue, now losing yourself in the heat of the moment, feeling his fingers nearly bruise your ass with the death-grip he has on you. 

He nods his head in what little space he has as he spirals into heaven behind his eyes. The smell of you suffocates him, the taste of you drowns him, the weight of you is nothing short of sexy as hell. This is all he could ever want. A pretty girl using and abusing his face, much like he wants to do to you. But oh, there’s so, so much he wants to do after so long of having no one but himself. 

Eat you out, finger fuck you, slide his cock down that pretty little moaning throat of yours, grip that hair and kiss those tits. God, he wants to do everything right now but he can’t bear to push this perfect clit off of his lips. He cannot fathom losing the taste of you and the way you clench around the tip of his tongue. 

Oh fuck.

“Ahh- '' Jake moans open-mouthed against your clit as his brain hits a wall, his cock standing stiff from behind you as he spills out against himself again. Untouched completely, he cums without any effort where as previously it took him hours just to get off because he’d grown so fucking bored of everything. 

You’ve ignited him. His drive is higher than it’s ever been after being neglected for so long. God, he wants to fuck you so full that you can’t bear to leave him. 

“Fuck–” He continues, trying to lend licks between his jerking body to keep your arousal peaked. “See how bad I need it?” 

He finally manages to pull back, feeling you lift from his face just for a moment after noting the way his entire body is shaking. He’s not having it though, as he cranes his neck in chase of your dripping hole once more.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He adds now, enveloping his lips around your clit again and using both hands to force you right back down on his face. 

There, you feel the way he almost passionately makes out with your pussy. As if he’s thanking you for a second orgasm within the past ten minutes. As if he truly can’t stop wanting to fuck something, someone, anything at all.

Goddamn, what a fucking deal. All hail the hook-up app that brought this insatiable sex beast to your apartment.

“Jake–” You start, grinding down for him and feeling his hands now move to rub up and down your back. “Keep your tongue in me.” You choke out, gripping his hair to hold his face in place as you sit his tongue inside of you, short and jerky thrusts forward to bump your clit against his nose. 

He’s gotten off twice now, it’s your turn. 

And you watch as he drops his arms from you and grips your outer legs through it, letting you use his face until he can’t breathe. Both of you are seeing stars through it, your orgasm bubbling up so quickly that you can barely warn him when your hips halt in a stiffened clench and he’s finishing the job for you. 

Your legs squeeze around his head, your fingers pull his hair, and still he manages to find the space to tilt his chin up just to tongue-fuck you deeper, just to rub his nose harshly against your clit, up until he feels your quivering pussy spill all over his chin, down his throat, stealing any breath or moan he could possibly give right now. 

You’re out of breath by the time you finally slide off of his face, your hands immediately shooting to both of his cheeks as your sensitive clit drags down his stomach for the easy position change. You wince when you lick against his lips at the sensitivity, being sure to seat yourself right against his cock. 

“Hah–” Jake lends a breathy laugh against the way you lick his lips, his hands going right back to your ass and landing a sharp slap to it. “Couldn’t even get our clothes off first.”

You take a second to pull back and look at him, noting the redness against his cheeks and nose, likely from your panties consistently getting in his way and then you chuckle back at him. You’re thankful for the short break the two of you seem to be taking at the moment. Still, you lift up from him just to remove your shirt, exposing your tits in an instant solely because you didn’t wear a bra for this exact purpose. 

He’s still hard, despite two orgasms. You feel him rubbing it against you every few seconds, right up against your saliva and cum-soaked panties which, mind you, are insanely uncomfortable right now. It feels as if they’re slicing through your thigh with the force of how Jake managed to keep them shoved out of his way. 

“Just lay back,” You smile at him, allowing him a longer rest for now as you take it upon yourself to remove the barriers. “Let me take care of you now.”

Jake has hearts in his eyes as he watches you. Normally, a girl would already be falling asleep after all that, leaving him with not enough orgasms and no actual fucking. It’s not his fault he could do foreplay for upwards of three to four hours before going for the finale. Which, arguably, can and will last several hours longer. 

Still, you appear to not be finished either, with your breathless smile and gentle hands. He bites his bottom lip through a smirk as he watches you, tits on full display to keep him satiated for now as you move around on the couch to get his pants off of him. He helps a bit with a little kick, his cock still so sensitive and pathetically weeping for more. He feels lucky to have found you, almost baffled that he may have met his match. 

You lend several glances at his cock, not quite realizing the way he’s blinking at you right now. To be fair, it’s only natural to have your attention on that thing right now. You swallow around your nervousness regarding the size but equally want him to fuck you senseless with it. You already feel entirely fucked out, but…that. Oh, that could change your life, probably. You can imagine he won’t be as gentle as you expected before all of this too. Would probably shove it in all in one go and lose his mind at the feeling. 

He’s probably going to split you open and make it feel good for you too. Somehow. 

Anyway, enough of that. You’ve still got to get his shirt off, your uncomfortable skirt and panties too. 

You make quick work of it, as you stand to your feet and expose yourself entirely to him. Jake just watches, humming and moaning at each new expanse of skin you show to him. He keeps his hands to himself though, likely so used to feeling of them that they’d bring no pleasure at this moment if he were to jerk off to you doing this. And you just…look right back at him.

“Come on,” You smile at him again, lending your hand out for him to grab. “Bedroom will be more comfortable.”

Right. Bedrooms exist.

Jake follows, cock heavy and sensitive against his thigh with each step as he tries to get up close behind you. His eyes stay on your ass as you walk in front of him, and it’s not hard for him to keep his hands on it. In fact, he’s touching you as often as he can, trying to remind himself that he’s with someone right now who actually wants him. 

You seem to be willing to let him do what he needs tonight, and hopefully it won’t be the only time. 

You feel him on you, clinging so closely, hands constantly groping, lips always trying to reach the back of your neck and shoulders, to the point it’s actually difficult to get to your bedroom because you want nothing more than to turn around and shove him against the wall, all to try and take him into your mouth just to see if you can.

He doesn’t really let you think about that for too long though, because the second you get to your bedroom, he’s grabbing you from behind and lifting you in his strong arms. You writhe in his grasp with playful giggles, feeling the strong hold he has on you, keeping you in place against him as he stumbles forward with a deep inhale into your neck.

He’s quick to make his way to your bed, dropping you onto it, flipping you over onto your back, and immediately slotting himself between your legs. He hovers over you for a minute, looking directly into your eyes as his hair falls forward. 

Somehow, you’re more focused on his face than you are of his cock that he’s sliding up and down your core right now. You reach up to his hair, brushing it out of his face and feeling the sticky sweat at his scalp. 

“Could eat you out again.” Jake mentions, hips thrusting against you but eyes calm and level with yours. “Could lock me up in here and just use me all day if you want.” He continues, partially being serious about it, but treating it as if it’s some kinky joke instead. 

Because let’s be honest. If there’s any job Jake could do better than anyone else, it’s be a woman’s fuck toy. Always ready to go, always stiff and horny, always willing to please. 

“Could slide in right now and let you feel how hard I am.” His voice gets breathier as he talks, and you can tell he’s just imagining everything he wants to do. He probably worries he’ll have to go home at some point tonight only to resume his search for potential fucks to keep his need satiated. 

He probably thinks he’s going to exhaust you. 

“Could let you do all of that and more.” You respond, lifting your hips just slightly to press his cock between your bodies, throwing your legs around his waist simultaneously with the way you wrap your arms around his neck. “You want me to lock you up in here?” 

Jake nods with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if he can imagine it. 

“Do you work tomorrow?” 

He shakes his head with another sigh, focusing on the way you keep humping up against his length, sliding yourself in whatever way you can against him. 

“Maybe I’ll just have to do that then.”

Oh, damn. 

The heart eyes are back. The very thought of being in this room all night and all day tomorrow drives his cock to pulse and twitch. Foreplay can come whenever, fucking can come whenever, he can cum whenever. There’s no need for a to-do list. No need for a specific structure of rules on how this needs to happen. Foreplay, sex, sleep. Not with Jake. 

Sex. foreplay. sex. foreplay. for hours. He’ll keep you up all night if he can, fucking and sucking every part of you, into the morning hours straight into tomorrow night. 

Free use with you from now until you’re tired of him. You can do anything you want to him but for now…

“Yeah?” Jake breathes out in excitement, arching his back slightly to let his cock land against your hole, and then he pushes forward slowly. The bulbous head spreads your lips and stretches out your slick pussy with ease as he continues to speak. “Feel that?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, fingernails already digging into his shoulders at the anticipation as your legs loosen around him. He continues to push forward, inch by inch, painfully slow as if he wants you to feel the burn and stretch even while being as wet as you are. 

“Ah–” He confirms for himself as he watches your face, wincing, mouth falling open. “Yeah, you feel it.”

God, yeah. You do. You feel the weight of his size inside of you, stretching you open so good he probably wouldn’t even have to move for it to hurt. But he does move, he does continue to slide in, savoring every second of your walls quivering and suffocating his cock. 

“Goddamn,” He groans, lifting up on both arms and bracing himself as he looks down, only to find he’s only slid half of his dick into you, and already you’re about as breathless as he is. “Didn’t realize how tight you’d actually be–” 

He chokes when he says it, sliding out little by little before fucking back in, pushing just a bit more into you.

“S’okay.” You try to reassure him, but it’s more for you than it is for him. You really didn’t think a cock could feel so big that it actually hurts, yet, here you are. “I’m adjusting.”

Jake moans at your broken voice, no longer holding himself back to look at your pussy grip him when he pulls out slightly. He looks at your face instead, witnessing how you take all of it in one solid movement from him. All of it, until he can feel his pelvis rest against your clit and your entire body stiffens in a tight hug around his body. 

“Mhm,” He leans back down now, humming against your cheek as he tries to control the urge to fuck. “Taking all of it, aren’t you?”

With those words, he slides out slightly before pushing back in again, trying to force your pussy to relax so that he can stop holding his breath. One hand finds its way to your leg to hold onto, the other holding himself up beside your head, and he just…watches. 

Little by little, he thrusts. Plunging into you in short-tight snaps of his hips just to watch your tits jiggle with the movements, up until he really, really can’t hold back anymore. 

You feel his cock leave you almost entirely, only to slam right back in and cause your vision to go white with a pang of pleasure. Your loud yelp pairs well with his relieved sigh of a grunt, and it appears that this is what breaks him entirely. 

That single, full thrust, lets him fall forward and nuzzle his nose against your neck and his body just goes. Instinctually chasing the deepest parts inside of you, hitting your cervix with each thrust only to drag back and make your toes go numb at the way your g-spot feels entirely too sensitive with this alone.

And god, Jake loves the way you cling through it. The way you moan each time he bottoms out, the way your nails cut into his back and the way your legs continuously fail to stay wrapped around him. He…

Oh no.

“I can go all night–” He breathes out through his relentless thrusts, almost as if he’s pleading with you. “I swear, I’m not done–” He continues to cut off his own words with choked moans as he pulls back and leans up, frantically forgetting to apologize over the fact that he’s already about to cum again.

And you feel him try to slide out, that face he made twice before already alerting you that he really must have so much to pump out of himself at this point. You don’t mind if he’s about to hit a third orgasm, in fact, you’re glad.

Your legs hold him in place as he fights to pull out, his eyes snapping to you in realization after the second time he tries. 

“No fucking way, you– you want it?” His eyebrows fall into that of a relieved release as he, too, falls right back down against your chest and lets his hips fuck freely. 

He’s not controlling it at this point. You feel him stretch you open more through his orgasm, rolling his hips but not pulling out even in the slightest now. Moving back and forth, as if trying to stuff you impossibly full while he releases those thick ropes of cum. It…feels so good even with the way the base of his cock continues to swirl and loosen you up in a painful stretch that almost feels like he’s ripping you open. Still, the pain is gone as he shakes on top of you, in fact, you feel your clit throb at the feeling of how big he is, of how hard he manages to stay. 

He didn’t even fuck you that roughly before this, but it feels like you’re already ruined. Ruined enough to want more. Enough to need more. 

“Bet that feels good,” You chuckle against his hair, feeling each pulse of him and loving the way he pants against your ear. “Not having to pull out, knowing you can fuck me for as long as you want.”

That only pushes his orgasm to hit harder. He thought he was nearing the end of it, but instead, his body goes into overdrive as more pulses of cum shoot out of him at your words. There’s so…so much of it he can give you. And if this is what you want, he’s the perfect man to do it for you. 

“Don’t say that, oh god–” Jake mumbles through the end of his orgasm, keeping himself tucked nice and deep into you as he releases his body weight and makes you feel slightly suffocated under him. “Please.”

Well, he minds his manners well enough, you shrug under him, clenching around his length unintentionally and reminding him that you genuinely can go all night, just like him.

Reminding him that maybe you really will just lock him up in this room all tonight, all tomorrow. He seems into the idea anyway, right? Both of you just free-use sex dolls for the time being…Hell yeah.

And as Jake catches his breath, he finally lifts up, pulling you with him, and sits you directly on his lap now.

“Keep going then, don’t let it get soft.” He nearly whimpers, solely due to the sensitivity his cock is now offering and the fact that after that third orgasm, he truly is gaining the ability to go flaccid between orgasms. 

And you follow his direction, though not entirely how he wanted you to. Instead of rolling your hips, you slip him right out of you and sink your face down between his legs, loving the way his cum spills out of you all the while. You don’t even say anything, not that you’d need to. He watches you, a smirk forming on his lips as he raises an arm and throws it over his eyes. 

“Shit, You’re so my type.” He groans out of the sexual frustration that still bubbles within him. You look so good down there with his cock just inches from your mouth. God, no woman has been able to go down on him for too long despite really fucking wishing they would. 

His hips always lose control, they don’t like face fucking, he’s too big to fit, they’re gagging too much, their jaw is hurting. What the fuck ever. Look at you, blinking up at him like you want nothing more in the world than to take it all down your throat. Ah, fuck, if you did that…

His hips buck up on instinct, forcing you to hold him down with your arms as you lick your lips. 

“You really live up to your promise, you know that?” You smile with warmed cheeks as you speak, blowing air gently against the head of his cock. It’s softened up a little, but it’s no longer going flaccid. You’re sure that the second you work it into your mouth, he’s going to be blocking your airways. 

Good. 

“You say that like I’m not overwhelming you with all of this,”  He chuckles as he moves his arm from his face and down to yours. “Most girls would have already sent me home.”

You circle your lips around the bulbous head, tasting the remnants of both you and him as you gently suckle before popping off and licking your lips. 

“Well, Jake–” You look back down and lend his cock a little kiss. “I’m not most girls. Besides, most guys get their nut and leave me hanging. You’ve gotten, what? Three orgasms by now? And you’re still in my bed? Wanting me to lock you up tomorrow too? What a fucking win.”

Jake rolls his eyes because you don’t even know the fucking half of it. If he were a normal guy, he probably would have done the same thing. Maybe not to you, but to others? Yeah. The thing is, he’s not like most guys. And you’re right in saying you’re not like most girls either, considering…your sex drive appears to be just as insatiable as his.

“Fuck, let me eat you out again–” Jake groans now, needing to pleasure you again, aroused by the fact that he’s basically met a female version of himself. Even if he’s just exaggerating and making himself believe such a woman could exist close enough to him. “Let me– Ahh…”

You cut off his words, dragging a loud and sensual moan from him as you sink down. Mostly to shut him up, mostly so you can return the favor for him from earlier before letting him have another lick of you. After all, you truly do appreciate him for all of this. 

“Mmf–” You mumble unintentionally, feeling each inch of his length that you swallow up pressing your tongue further and further down in your mouth. Up until you’re entirely open mouthed on him, gagging yourself when he hits your throat only to angle yourself up on your knees to point it straight down your throat instead.

It hurts, but you close your eyes in concentration, breathing through each gag, ignoring the dribble of saliva that runs from the corners of your mouth and– you swallow.

Mostly because you can’t suck. Again and again, you swallow around him just to stimulate his length, the girth stretching your lips out to the point you feel your jaw could break, but it doesn’t and it won’t. 

Within an instant of taking his whole length down your throat, you feel his hands in your hair. Your ears are ringing, otherwise you would also be listening to him choke on his words at how you’re doing this to him. All of it. You’re taking him in full, not leaving an inch out, seemingly proving that your mouth can be fucked just as good as your cunt.

He’s in heaven, head spinning as you stimulate him through each gag and sputtered out chokes of a moan. He can’t help it when he grabs your hair, he really doesn’t mean it when he pushes your head down while pressing his hips up. Essentially choking you and suffocating you in full with a paused hold. 

You brace yourself on his hips when he does this, squeezing your eyes shut and continuously gagging from the way he abuses your mouth with just that small movement, and then– he pulls back.

“Ahh,” He groans, snapping his hips back and holding you by the hair to keep you from chasing. “You like that?” He continues, letting you breathe but not answer at all before he’s pushing your head right back down, holding you there again and fucking his hips up repeatedly into your throat this time. 

The sounds are pornographic at best, concerning at worst. You, searching for air somewhere between his thrusts, the sounds of wet sputters, drooling, whimpered groans from him, and desperate gasps and gags from you. Truly, Jake is in heaven right now. With you, specifically, you’ve brought him to heaven.

For you, it feels like he does this forever. You’re losing the ability to comprehend what breathing ever was in the first place, thankfully though, Jake can see the tears pouring from your eyes and feel the way you fall slightly limp, letting him do as he pleases before he realizes– he may actually be overwhelming you now.

He snaps his hips back quickly, pulling you up and off of the last remaining inches of his weeping cock before taking a good, long look at your gasped breath and abused lips. Tongue licking out and eyes stained. 

“I’m sorry, fuck, I–”

Instantly you press yourself down on him once again, resuming your original position of sliding him in until you can’t stand the feeling in your throat, gagging and swallowing around him time and time again. You feel proud of it, proud of the pain, proud of the suffocation. 

Fucking proud to not be finished with him compared to every other person, apparently. 

“Jesus–” He groans now, his entire body slouching against your bed as he slams his head back and starts petting your cheeks. “It’s like you were born for this. For me.”

You hum around the gags, growing accustomed to swallowing him up and feeling your jaw strain. And just a few moments later, you pull up with a deep breath, a smile, and you start rubbing your jaw. 

“Maybe I was,” You try to talk dirty, wanting to drive him insane. “You taste so good.” You add, dipping down again to lick a long stripe up the underside of his balls up to his tip. “Any girl should be proud to say you’d fuck her mouth like that.”

A twitch, he rolls his eyes back and clenches his jaw. 

“How are you so…” He breathes out, reaching his hands blindly for you, only to feel you shift on the bed and essentially sit your tits into both of his hands. “perfect?”

You shrug when he opens his eyes, you’re now hovering over him, both hands covering his on your tits as you force him to squeeze and grope. 

“Maybe it’s best to not ask questions.” You tilt your head playfully. “Besides, if I’m lucky maybe you’ll stop trying to find other girls to fuck. They can’t take care of you like I will, anyway.”

Oh, you damn fucking right they won’t. 

“You can have it any time you want.” Jake smiles, relishing in your tits warming under his palms, watching the way you hover over him tall and proud on your knees. “Could play with you every day and never get bored.” 

You feel him move his hand from under yours, going straight between your legs and sliding not two, but three fingers into you with ease.

“Still so wet too,” He hums, eyes narrowing at you with that same pretty grin. “You always this horny?”

You shake your head. 

“Not usually, you just turn me on.” 

Jake feels proud of that. He doesn’t feel like the odd ball with a dick that can’t be satiated no matter how many pussies he plows through in a night. Which, again, for the past year has been a total of zero pussy. You getting turned on by that makes him feel…capable. Makes him feel like maybe he can be put to use by a pretty girl. 

Makes him feel like his need is wanted and well taken care of. 

“So, I can keep calling you?” He asks now, fucking his fingers up, loving the warmth and slide, anticipating for when he gets to bury his cock in you again. 

“Mhm.” You hum, closing your eyes to enjoy the pleasure of how deep even his fingers reach. Kind of ready for him to stop talking and just focus on what he’s doing to you.

“Even if it’s every single day?” He continues to ask, now using his thumb against your clit. “Even if I need you in the middle of the night?”

Anything he wants if he can keep hitting your g-spot like this. 

“Yes, Jake,” You sigh out of aroused frustration, now wiggling your hips to chase that stimulation inside of you. “I’ll give you the fucking key to my apartment if you want. Just let you walk right in and start fucking me.”

His fingers move faster at the image, the implication of not just free-use, but true free use. Real free-use. 

“Yeah? Wake you up with my cock sliding into you?” He urges you to keep talking, now removing his other hand from your chest and circling it around his cock. “Just walk right in and get my mouth on you while all your friends are here?”

You lend a surprised chuckle, but pay no mind to his words past the arousal it brings to you. You’d tell him about how you have a total of like two friends, and half of the time they’re too busy to show up anyway. Still, the image is hot at the moment. All of it is hot. 

“You’d let me?” He continues pressing every button both physically and mentally, unaware of how easy it is for him to talk as if it’s a normal conversation solely because it’s kind of his general state of living at this point. You, on the other hand, are not used to having a full conversation while your g-spot gets abused. “Even if you’re not home? Let you come home and find me fucking myself for you?”

Oh.

“Fuck–” You groan out at the image, feeling his fingers reach so perfectly, thinking of how it would feel to walk into your apartment just to see this pretty man chasing that tight ring of fingers his fist creates. Probably so turned on and frustrated that you’re not home…so frustrated that all he could do is drop to the floor and start fucking. “God, yeah.”

So that’s what you’re into. You love that he’s that pathetic to fuck. And lucky for you, he’s more than willing to continue to be that fucking pathetic. 

“Does that feel good?” He hums now, watching how you fuck yourself against his fingers, lifting slightly to lick against your nipple. “Can I use my cock again?” He babbles almost, brain on constant loop of you actually giving him free reign of your apartment someday so he can come and–”Please, do this on my cock.”

This is the second time he’s asked you to ride it, and you think that may be one time too many. You almost feel guilty for taking him down your throat first, but then again, you don’t. Your body vibrates knowing you’re about to split yourself open on him again, only this time having full control. 

“You want me to sit on it, Jake?” You smile, thrusting your hips down and sinking his fingers into you so deep that you physically can see his brain malfunction. 

The frantic nod he gives is somehow less powerful than how he lifts his hips, forcing you higher on your knees as his fingers slip out of you and immediately land in his mouth. 

Man, this guy must love the taste of pussy. The image of him doing that alone is insanely arousing to you as you lend him a short nod and slide back, your pussy sucking in the head of his cock instantly as if the two of you move together so well, that it was only natural to not need a guiding hand for it. 

He sinks his head deep into the mattress with the way you try to sink down on him. He holds his breath with those same fingers in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut at how tight you still are, how wet you still are. 

And he’s shocked, almost, at the way you just keep sliding down. Not letting yourself re-adjust to his size, holding your own breath and bracing yourself on his abdomen just to keep balance and you wince through the stretch. 

“That’s it.” Jake soothes your hips as you sit, clenching around each one of his twitches inside of you. “Doing so good.” He breathes out this time, trying to hold back his moan just for a moment as he awaits your moan first.

And it comes quickly when you lean back rather than against him, arms by his knees as you practically present his cock to him buried entirely into you with this position. He lifts his head and stares at it before reaching his thumb to your clit, immediately pressing hard circles against it. 

“Ride it,” He pleads now. “God, please ride it.” He loses his mind at the image, really, as you do start moving. 

Pained whimpers falling from your lips as you circle your hips, fucking just an inch of him in and out of yourself, forcing the deepest part of your pussy to take the abuse more than anything else. And you know he loves it with the way his thumb stops rubbing your clit, with the way he can’t decide on if he should look or throw his head back and fall into the sensation. 

It’s really cute to witness, and you’d lean forward to kiss him if you had the strength to do it, but you don’t. In fact, all the strength you have is currently bubbling up inside of you with a sharp, almost burning sensation. 

You know exactly what this is. You’ve practiced it time and time again alone in this bed. 

“Oh, oh shit, Jake–” You groan as you frantically start moving your hips through the full and splitting feeling of him inside of you. Your voice sounds so panicked, it almost scares him. And honestly? Had he not have finger fucked you against your g-spot previously perhaps you could last longer on him, but no. 

“What– What’s wrong?!” Jake’s voice is broken when he quickly leans up, hugging around you as you continue to ride against him, faster now, chasing, chasing, chasing. 

Pushing, pushing, pushing.

“No, no!” You moan out, shoving him back against the bed and now lifting entirely from his length before slapping your own clit, fast, rough circled motions before each slap. “Oh, shit!” You nearly yell, witnessing it squirt from your body straight against his abdomen and chest. 

Jake just watches, mouth agape and eyes wide. 

“Oh–” He stares. “Oh yeah?” 

And you’re not even done when he seemingly takes full control. Allowing all that squirt to fall out of you, ignoring your shaking legs, tipping you straight back and plunging his cock right back into that release of pressure inside of you.

“You just weren’t gonna tell me you could do that?” He grunts against your ear, fucking into you so hard and so fast that your orgasm just keeps coming. It feels too good to speak, too good to breathe. 

Even as it subsides and you’re trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t let you. He just keeps going, grunting incoherently against your ear, snapping his hips harder than you think he’s probably ever done before. 

Honestly, with each yelp you let out, your sensitivity goes from being unbearably painful to–

“Do it again–” He urges you. “Give me another one.” Babbling, cooing, fucking moaning all over your neck until his lips hit yours. 

Somehow, that gives him exactly what he wants as he feels your legs tense up and fall open around him. Your pelvis slamming into his so hard that it’s, quite literally, splashing out of you in loud and painful sounds. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He nods and whispers against your tongue, sucking it into his mouth before licking into yours, nearly rabid with the way he’s both kissing and fucking you, he can’t help it. He forgot words the second he felt the gush rush past his length, trying to force it out of you only for him to go harder. Like hell he’s not going to feel you literally squirt on his cock. “So fucking messy.”

At one point, you think you might have actually died. You’re not sure but you swear you saw him fucking you in third person for two solid seconds before being slammed right back into your body. The pleasure genuinely is so overwhelming that…well, suddenly you understand why girls probably think he’s too much.

But goddamn he’s…so good. Like, you remember him mentioning his body count through his one-sided sext session with you and you can argue his inexperience probably made this that much better. He’s a fucking natural. 

And as he continues fucking into you, all you can do is lend him a distant smile. You’re definitely not experiencing real life at this moment, and you know he sees it with the way he lifts and keeps his eyes on your zoned out expression. 

“Look at you.” He echoes against your walls. “So, so pretty.” 

And he just keeps doing that, whispering praises, working you through his presumed last orgasm of the night because he genuinely can’t not fill you up with his cum one last time before letting you rest. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The rest didn’t last long, but to be fair you didn’t need it to. All night, and all day. That promise was kept and Jake remained insatiable throughout all the time he spent with you.

To the point you very nearly felt strange about him leaving. Like you’d grown so accustomed to having someone literally attached to you at the dick that you knew the loneliness and silence would hit you a little too hard once he leaves. 

And, well, he does leave in a sense, but not completely. 

Though you never truly meant that offer in the midst of sex-talk, Jake seemed to have clinged to the idea of it. Lock him up, but still give him the key. 

Never in your life would have imagined giving a person the key to your apartment, and yet…there he goes. Backing out of a guest parking spot in front of your building with your spare fucking apartment key in his pocket right next to those fucking panties. 

[writingsbychlo]

WITHDRAWAL | theodore nott

summary; theo decides to quit smoking, but doesn't realise that his decision would affect his girlfriend, too.

word count; 3007

notes; just a cute, fluffy little piece based on something that I was tagged in about 2 months ago! unfortunately, I cannot find the original post or tagger, but if it's you, please let me know!!

If there was one thing about Theodore Nott that couldn't be denied, it was that he loved with everything he had. 

He loved his friends; he was loyal to a fault and he’d never let them down. He loved his family, he wrote over fifteen letters a week to all his aunties and cousins, and still held onto his mother’s recipe book, even to this day. 

And he loved, adored, his girlfriend with everything that he had. He’d do anything for her, crawl across hot coals if she asked, give up his magic and his money and his legacy, just to make her happy. She’d never asked as such of him, still blushed when he pulled out his wallet when they shopped and smiled brighter than the sun when he gave her a handmade card or something he’d cooked. So, to his eyes, it didn’t seem all that much when he decided to give up smoking for her. 

She hadn't asked him to, never even pulled a face when he smoked. But Theo was damn sick of trying to blow the smoke away from her when she joined him at the astronomy tower, cuddled up to his chest, because he didn’t want that poison near her. He hated watching her shiver on the colder nights, he hated waking her in the middle of the night when he got up to satiate that itch, and he hated thinking of a future where he left her too soon, running short on time, because he ruined himself.

He chucked his last box into the fireplace one impulsive morning, and thought he might go cold turkey. He’d been so moody by lunchtime that he’d almost bitten Enzo’s head off over the way he pronounced ‘tomato’. That afternoon, he’d ditched his classes and trudged through the snow to the floo connection at the Hog’s Head, and picked up enough nicotine patches from a muggle supply store to knock out a fully grown Hippogriff.

He’d torn the packaging off of one in the grimy restroom at the back of the store and slapped it onto his bicep, and almost collapsed from the relief it gave him. It wasn’t nearly as effective as picking up a packet from the newsagent’s stand he’d passed would’ve been, but as soon as his fingers had twitched to pick up a box, your face had flashed through his mind. Your face, smiling at him, your face that morning telling him how proud you were of him when he’d shared his goals in hopes of support, and it was enough to deter him from the purchase.

You were his strength, once again, as you’d always been. 

And truly, you were so proud of Theo. Changing his patches for him every evening, in time with that first one. Reading up on the muggle solutions, and making sure you were fully versed on how to help him. Keeping him busy seemed to help, when he got bored, his eyes started flicking towards the door, and the slight irritability he’d been able to keep a lid on pretty well would begin to flare up. For the most part, he’d been staying at your dorm, in an active attempt to keep away from Mattheo, who wasn’t quite ready to give up his comfortable vice just yet. 

Unfortunately, as the days went on, while Theo seemed to be handling it just fine, you were struggling. The irritability grew, even Draco’s breathing was making you want to snap pencils in half in the library, or throw Enzo off the astronomy tower if he scraped his fork on his plate one more time. You were ravenous, and nauseous, all at the same time. You wanted to eat everything but could hardly hold it down. You were dizzy, and fatigued, and your grades were going to start slipping if this continued, because it had been almost a week since you’d been able to concentrate on any thought longer than a minute, never mind a whole class. 

And now, you were lying in bed, rubbing at your eyes angrily but unable to sleep as you stared at the ceiling. Theo, for once, was sleeping soundly beside you. Since giving up smoking, his sleep patterns had been getting better, while yours were getting worse by the night. Almost a week, and you’d barely gotten nine hours of sleep put together. 

When you shuffled again, pressing yourself a little closer to Theo as you rolled onto your side, he began to surface. The arm over your midriff tightened, pulling you in until your hips were bracketed against his, and he chuckled sleepily into your neck. Burying himself in, he pressed a kiss there, and another, and another. The rough pounding of your heart settled as you clasped Theo’s hand in your own, holding them to your chest as he littered your shoulder with kisses. 

At your sigh, he rolled you over, propping himself up on his elbow and yawning. Shaking his hand free from your own, he stroked the back of a finger along your cheek, and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. As his hand settled on the side of your neck instead, yours slipped up to cup his jaw, and you melted into the tender love he offered you in the darkest hours. 

“What’s wrong, tesoro? Why are you awake?”

“Why are you awake?” you rebuffed, fingers lifting to comb through his hair, to push it back out of his eyes as he blinked himself a little more awake.

He shrugged, “This is about the time I’d normally go for a smoke.” He murmured, and your eyes flickered to the clock. 

You knew well enough the schedule Theo used to keep while smoking. Your timetable had slowly synched to it over the time you’d been dating. He’d wake up during the night, at some point around two, and disappear for a smoke. He’d take twenty minutes, or thirty if he bumped into Mattheo, and then he’d come back to bed. 

You didn’t mind the disturbance. Not when he’d come back slightly chilled from the night air and snuggle in close to you, wrapping himself around you.

“Actually, this is the time you’d normally come back from having a smoke, and give me my midnight kisses.”

“Is that why my girl is so restless tonight? Because I owe her some kisses?” He teased, leaning down until your noses were bumping, and you could taste the mint on his breath. Normally, he tasted like smoke, not toothpaste, and the shock of his warm lips instead of cold ones made you hum. 

The languid kisses melted the time away, his hand sliding up your shirt, sitting on your ribs and squeezing softly as he lowered himself down, covering your body with his own. Theo had always been your comfort, and your happy place. Being in his arms made you feel safe, and his kisses made you feel relaxed. As he licked his way into your mouth lazily, you anticipated the hazy blur of relaxation that usually followed when he kissed you. 

But, like usual recently, it never came. Instead, when he finally pulled back, and pecked the tip of your nose, he found you frowning, instead of smiling up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” You huffed, frustrated at yourself, at your confusion and the growing irrational irritation. “It’s not the same.”

“What’s not the same, bella?”

“Your… your kisses.” Your words trailed to a whisper, knowing he wouldn't understand, and the hurt that flickered across his face made your heartbreak. 

“They’re not?”

“No. I don’t know why.” His lips curled further at the sides, and the look on his face made you want to cry. It made you hate yourself, aggressively, and if you could tear out your own heart and give it to him just to see him smile again, you would. Just another thing you’d been suffering with lately, an overwhelm of your emotions, worse than any mood swing you got when you were on your period. “It’s not you, Teddy, it’s me. You’re still my happy place, you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s me. I’m the problem.”

“You’re not a problem, bella. But we should figure it out. I don’t want to… kiss you wrong, and see that look on your face. What’s different, tell me what’s changed?” His sweet words made tears prickle at your eyes, and you sniffed sadly as you looked at him. 

“I love you so much, Theo.”

“I know, tesoro. I love you too.” His thumb smoothed over your cheek, “Tell me.”

“I don’t know!” Your snap made his eyes widen. “You’re just… different. You don’t kiss the same way, you used to get all needy when you came back from a smoke, but you don’t anymore, and you taste different! You taste like mint right now, and it just doesn’t make me feel the same way afterwards.”

Your words were jumbled and hurried, rushed out as you smoked them and his brows furrowed as he tried to decipher what you meant. Second ticked by into silent minutes as Theo’s wonderful mind ticked and whirred, thinking the problem through, and playing with the information. Then, before you could say anything else, something clicked. You could see it in his eyes, when the gears stopped turning and the thoughts stopped flowing because he’d found the answer. 

Pulling away from you, he sat up, kicking back the covers and letting in the cold air, before moving across the room and shuffling through his gym kit left in the corner. Pulling out a nicotine packet from the box inside, he shook it out, using his teeth to tear open the packet as he made his way back to the bed. Sitting yourself up, you propped yourself in the pillows as he peeled off the plastic backing, and tried to unstick his fingers from it, holding it by the corners. 

“You’ve only had your patch on for nine hours, Teddy, it’s not time to change yet.”

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head and settling in beside you on the bed, legs folded underneath himself. “This isn’t for me, bella. Take off your shirt.” 

Slipping your arm out of your shirt, you pushed it to the side, watching as Theo brushed cotton fibres off of your shoulder, before sealing the patch onto your skin. He made sure it was properly sealed down, flattening it to your skin, before feeding your arm back through the sleeve of your shirt. He smoothed the top back down your torso, pressing a cheeky kiss to your breast over your heart as he did, and sitting back on his legs to wait. 

“Give it a second, then tell me how you feel.” He whispered, the moment feeling entirely too fragile as his hand took yours, fingers linked together. He kissed along your knuckles, his eyes locked on your face, waiting. And the moment you felt it hit, you knew he saw it too. 

It was like a cool, soothing balm over a raw, aggravated wound. It felt like running cold water on a new burn or healing a painful graze with a quick Episky. “Oh, Merlin…”

“I know, tell me about it.” He mumbled, the smile on his face at victoriously solving the problem melting away as realisation set in. “Cazzo, bella, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have a nicotine addiction, and it’s my fault. All that time you spent with me at the tower, and the smoke on me, and kissing you as soon as I finished smoking. All your moodiness these last few days—”

“Hey!”

“It’s true, baby. It all makes sense.” He rubbed a hand over his face, and squeezed your hand tighter in the other. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I quit because I didn’t want this to happen to you, I didn’t want my problems to poison you, but it’s too late.”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me, Teddy.” You demand again, pulling him in, and his mouth collides with yours as he makes a subtle groan of surprise and pleasure. 

His hand gripped the headboard behind you, the other skimming down your side. As you leaned back into the pillows, you took him with you, his body falling over your own, slotting between your thighs as our hearts thudded together where his chest pressed to yours. Your hands slid over his shoulders, skimming down his back, and he moaned again as your fingernails scraped across his lower back as you tugged at his shirt. 

He sat up, letting you pull it off of him, before his arms were back, caging you in on either side as he fell back down against you. Pulling one of your legs up to sit on his hip, he dragged himself away from your mouth, trailing wet kisses down your jaw, to the pulse point on your neck and back up. 

“Merde, bella. What’s gotten into you? Not that I’m complaining.”

“You’re perfect, Theo.” You smiled, leaning up to steal more kisses from his lips that he was happy to reciprocate, “You’re perfect, your kisses are perfect. I knew it was me, not you. I was the problem.”

“A problem I gave you,” He groaned, his hips rolling against your own as you giggled breathlessly. 

“Yeah, whatever. Now we’re quitting together. That’s the promise we made, we do everything together, right?”

“Damn right, tesoro.” He growled, teeth nipping at the underside of your jaw, as he began to make his way down your body. Your fingers were loose in his hair, settling back in the pillows, eyes slipping closed as he kissed along the insides of your thighs, teasingly. Finally, your body could relax, no longer tense and buzzing, but the foggy comfort of the night made your muscles ease into the bed, your body feeling heavy, and you sighed in bliss. 

Theo mumbled something, and you let your legs fall a little further apart, but your grip on consciousness was falling further and further away as the nicotine coursed through your body, finally letting you ease into sleep you’d missed for days.

“Bella,” Theo said, his voice sharper, and you stirred, working hard to force your eyes open, but they’d only made it halfway. His hair was ruffled, eyes wide and lips swollen, but his smirk melted away from his face into a tender smile as he looked down at you. 

“Sorry, what’d you say, baby?” The words slurred out of you, and he chuckled. His fingers unhooked from the sides of your shorts, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead. “M’sorry, I’m so sleepy all of a sudden.”

“S’okay, bella. Never apologise. C’mere, let’s just cuddle.”

Tucking your body into his, you shuffled your hips back into him, and he threw his leg over yours as he held you tight to his body. “You’re hard.”

“It’ll go down, don’t worry.” He snickered, kissing the back of your head. “S’your fault anyway.”

“Sorry…” You whispered, again, sleepily. “I’ll make it up t’you t’morrow.”

“Go to sleep, amore.”

But you’d already drifted off.

It was just as you were closing your History of Magic book, that Theo announced his presence in the common room as he walked in alongside Mattheo. They were loud, and raucous, and thankfully, you were less inclined to bite their heads off for it today. 

In fact, alongside Enzo, you’d been able to catch up on all of the History homework you’d been missing out on for the last week or so, getting you back on track for at least one of your subjects. 

“Patch change time, bella!” Theo announced, making his way over to you as he untucked his shirt and began to undo the buttons down the front. Tugging the tie out of the way, he crashed down ungracefully onto the couch beside you, Mattheo nudging Draco to move up so he could sit down too. 

This had become a regular part of your routine now, and you pushed the edges of his half-unbuttoned shirt aside to reveal the patch sitting on the middle of his left pectoral. Picking at one corner, you peeled it away gently, careful not to tug on his skin as you did, and Theo watched on adoringly in silence as you took care of him. Unwrapping a new patch, you brushed off the spot, before sticking a new patch onto him and smoothing down the bandage. 

He patted it himself, before doing a couple of the buttons on his shirt back up for modesty, as though he hadn't already given half of the common room a show, before he leaned in to peck your lips. His fingers fell to the buttons of your shirt, and he began to undo them slowly. “Your turn.”

He undid just enough to reveal your shoulder, without letting anyone else catch a glimpse of anything underneath, and as he leaned down to begin peeling away the old patch, you caught Enzo’s confused expression. 

“Why are you wearing a patch?” He asked, and Theo laughed to himself quietly as he changed your old one out. 

“Because loverboy here got me addicted too, through kisses and secondary smoke.”

The others burst out laughing, unfettered by your glaring as they made kissy sounds and crude remarks, while Theo buttoned your shirt back up. Your glare turned to him as you caught sight of his smile, and he shrugged, a lopsided smile on his lips. “What can I say, bella? I’m just that good.”

“Oh, shut it,” You smacked his chest, and he took your hand, tugging you forward to cuddle you into his chest as he kissed your temple. 

“I happen to think it’s adorable that as a by-product of how you got addicted, that means you were addicted to me.”

“Mhmm.” Your eyes rolled, and he squeezed you even tighter. 

“You had me addicted to you without any substances at all, bella. Just you.”

“Alright,” You scoff, “Stop sweet-talking me.”

“Never.”

[thekinslayed]

The Heavenly Ivory Touch of Your Hand

summary | The news of your husband's infidelity had driven you into Aegon's arms, your growing companionship tethering on the edge of decency.

pairing | aegon ii targaryen x aemond's wife!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! unprotected sex, infidelity, slight angst, injury, post rook’s rest aegon

wordcount | 3.3k

song rec | Heavenly - Grant Lee Phillips (title is a lyric from the song)

note | been in an aegon mode after ep1 of the new season 🫦 idk why i had to include aemond somehow, that man has my brain in a chokehold unfortunately

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

(divider by @zaldritzosrose)

What soft hands you had. Your touch was gentle, caring…  loving. They were a welcome sensation on Aegon’s skin, a sweet reprieve from the aches that only ever grew by the day. He could feel himself sink deeper into the feathered mattress, your touch massaging the knots he bore from the agitated tension his shoulders carried. It was not right to have you like this, but the lines between propriety have long been blurred by chaos.

“It is not your place as my brother’s wife to tend to my wounds,” Aegon mumbled, though he wasn’t one to complain, not when the salve on your fingertips brought salvation to his marred flesh. You hummed, continuing to apply the healing balm diligently.

“Yes, but you had driven away half your staff, the other half you won’t let even a hair’s breadth within your space. Who else is there to do it for you, brother?”

Your words rang true. The pain brought about by the memory of Rook’s Rest left Aegon irritable, brash, growing quick to anger at anyone and anything that displeased him. His staff were frightened to treat their king when he was so, grabbing the first opportunity to leave him be when he demanded. The treachery he had faced at the hands of his own people left him wary of any and all that walked through his home, the pain of losing his heir haunting his every thought. He couldn’t afford another travesty when he had lost so much. His wife had grown hysterical from grief, driven even farther away from his grasp than she already was. His mother was never really here, her heart still chained in his half-sister’s grasp, seeking a false sense of power by riding Cole whenever she could before he marched off. Perhaps Aegon was like her in a way, desperate to make a window in their own prison.

You were just as lonely as he, where he was alone in the numbing pain of his wounds, you were in a different prison— the isolating humiliation of the failure they all called a marriage. The news of Aemond’s infidelity left you broken and riddled with heartache. Where you waited and waited for the beastly sight of Vhagar flying over King’s Landing to signal his return, your husband had taken another to bed. The memory of reading the letter dropped by a raven from Harrenhal was a gray fog, the utter appalment that had overtaken your proper thinking caused you to block its actuality from your mind. The letter had come unsigned, maybe it was a servant who sent it, or Cole, perhaps it was the bastard witch herself, though it mattered little. The truth of the matter could not be denied when Aemond had been gone for nearly three moons now, and the whispers and looks of pity thrown your way could no longer be ignored.

Aegon wasn’t quite sure how you ended up in his midst when it happened. He figured you would lock yourself in your chambers in isolation, just like Helaena did, or wept at the Seven’s feet for guidance, just like his mother did. Instead, you had come to him, with the intention of tending his wounds at first, then came a natural companionship with each other. You had gotten along well, much better than even before the war.

When his joints felt better on brighter days, you would help him out of bed to walk; his cane in one hand, the other holding onto you for dear life. Not anywhere far, just in the halls of the royal apartments, away from curious eyes. You had even helped him bathe a few times, rubbing him clean without so much a look of disgust at the sight of his burnt half. Aemond would have definitely strangled the elder to death if he were ever to know, but the twat was hardly the face of honor and decency at the moment, and the king could care less what he thought. If Aegon was still the man he once was, he would have taken advantage of such mercy for something carnal, but his wounded spirit had never known such kindness. You tended to him in a way so foreign, so selfless, expecting naught in return.

Tonight, something was different. You hadn’t greeted him with that sweet smile of yours, one that Aegon always looked forward to every time you stepped into his chambers. You took your place on the edge of his bed quietly, grabbing the jar of salve and unscrewing its top without so much a word. The king was in a better condition tonight, no poppy milk to mar his mind blurred. There was a crease between your brows, and Aegon had to stop himself from brushing the tension away with his thumb. You were displeased.

“You are troubled,” he spoke up. Your eyes flickered to him under your lashes, before returning to your work on applying the balm on his side. Aegon hissed when you pressed on the wound a bit too harshly, which made you stop and utter an apology. “Sister,” he tried again, grabbing your wrist to stop you. You weren’t looking at him, your gaze trained to his grip on your flesh. He squeezed your wrist underneath his larger palm before asking, “What is it?”

Your eyes stung almost immediately, causing you to look away. You grabbed a cloth from Aegon’s bedside to wipe your hand clean, tugging on your flesh in a matter so harsh that it made your king look at you in concern. You took deep breaths, trying your hardest to swallow the piercing lump in your throat.

“She is with child,” you finally said, eyelashes flattering when your tears threatened to fall. The king scoffed in disbelief, shaking his head in disappointment. You didn’t have to utter who; your good brother-by-law already knew. Aemond used to be beyond such depravity, or so Aegon thought. His heart ached at the pitiful sight of you, with the way you avoided his eyes, scratching the inside of your wrist in an anxious habit. Your nails dug painfully into your flesh, rendering the skin a dark red to distract you from the agonizing swell of your heart. For the second time, Aegon grabbed your wrist to keep you from harming yourself, taking your smaller palm into his.

“I am sorry, sister,” he whispered in sincerity. “A fool he is. He may have lost one eye, but he is equally blind in both to see what he has lost. You are not deserving of such a man.”

You nodded at his words aimlessly, sniffling. Your eyes looked at anywhere but him, furiously blinking away your tears. In the days you had spent together, Aegon had learned you were one to detach yourself from your troubles, adamant to live in ignorance to save yourself the suffering. He used to be the same, but he had learned in the harshest way possible that pain would still find its way to you.

“He told me he loved me,” you chuckled darkly, through the corners of your lips quivered. You bit your lip, tilting your head back in a feeble attempt to push your tears back, before sighing. “He used to say I was the light of his life, that he could never wish to part from me, and he would return. Such flowery words from a liar.”

“My brother could have been a poet if he wasn’t a warrior, though he would be just as cruel with a pen as with a sword.”

You looked to your king with a pained smile, one which he returned, but a sob soon broke out from deep within your chest. Your beautiful face crumpled into sadness, your traitorous tears finally escaping. They left their mark on your cheeks, causing Aegon to wipe them in haste. His heart broke to see you like this, to see you suffering from a pain you did not deserve. You were the kindest being that had ever graced his days. Aegon may not be a devout man, but he liked to believe you were molded by the Mother’s hands, formed from her own essence. You were good, you were pure, everything the Targaryens were not. You never should have fallen into Aemond’s darkness, into their fiery madness.

“Come,” he bided, urging you to lay on the vast space beside him. You settled on the space by his good side, letting him take you into his bare chest. Avoiding his wounded side, you buried your head into the crook of his neck. Hot, salty tears left his skin damp, but Aegon couldn't care less, nor for the implications of the fact that anyone could come in and witness the king holding his brother’s wife in his arms. You were his priority.

“My daughter… she searches for him,” you sobbed, nuzzling closer into Aegon’s chest as he pulled you in tighter. “I don’t know what to tell her. How can I let her hold out hope when I am void of it myself? How do I gain the will to face him if he ever returns?”

Aegon sighed, his lips planting a kiss on your hair before he could stop himself. You smelled of fresh lavender, a scent so enticing and sweet. He couldn’t help peppering another kiss to your head, then another, before leaning his cheek against you.

“You do not have to, princess,” he said, his hand lowering to rub your back comfortingly. The king imagined the pair of you must look like lovers laid up like so, like man and wife. He cursed himself for thinking such thoughts while you wept for another, but his heart could never be silenced. “If you have no wish to be by his side, you will have it so. Your own apartments, your own space away from him. He would be turned away from your door if you command it. I shall see it done.”

“What will everyone else think? My name and reputation have been tainted by this disgrace,” you seethed, pushing yourself to lean on your elbow to look at Aegon. He could feel your breath on his face, could see you in perfect detail like this. Your pretty lashes had clumped from your tears, and a subtle flush had settled across your cheeks.

By the Seven, you were beautiful.

“I shall cut off any tongue that dares to speak against you, I promise this to you,” the king vowed, sealing his oath with a kiss to the inside of your wrist. You merely stared at him, searching for any signs of insincerity. You couldn’t bear another lie, and with Aegon you found none.

“Thank you, my king, thank you,” you expressed, pressing a reverent kiss on his scarred hand. Aegon felt blessed to have been bestowed such a touch on his ugliness, and he could only wish to be granted more.

“You need not thank me, sister,” he responded. With a rush of boldness, he cupped your jaw, a fiery hope stoking in his veins when you leaned into his touch. “I would do anything for you… anything.”

His words made you look at him, eyes clouded in thought. Aegon could practically feel the gears of your mind working, and for a moment, he worried. He must have overstepped his bounds, had put your friendship into jeopardy when he let too much of his affection show. The elder Targaryen opened his lips to speak, to deflect, but you had stunned him when you pressed your lips against his.

You pulled away in an instant to gauge his reaction, tracing the tingling remnants of his plump lips on yours with your fingertips. A look of shock you both mirrored, but before you could apologize, Aegon grabbed your arm, tugging you closer.

“Do it again,” he urged, to which you obliged obediently. He kept his hand on your occiput to keep you close, his tongue splitting your lips to deepen the kiss. Aegon had found bliss, with the way your tongue danced against his, your moan reverberating against his lips when he sucked on your plush, bottom lip. Your leg had slithered halfway across his waist, your calf rubbing his hardening length through his undergarments. The king groaned, squeezing your plump rear through your robe.

The comfort you found in the time you spent together had you only clad in your robe and nightgown during your late-night visits, seeing no harm in being in a state of undress with the silver-haired man. Aegon, however, had to hide the evidence of how much you affected him under his blankets. It was worse when the nights were chilly, and your nipples pebbled under the thin fabrics of your garments. The self-control he willed himself to bear was almost too much, but now his efforts were coming to fruition.

You pulled away to untie your robe, shrugging it off in haste before returning yourself to Aegon’s arm. Under the dim light of his chambers, the king could see the darker rims of your nubs, the teasing sight so enticing, he almost started salivating. He attached his lips to your clothed nipple, a dampness growing on the cotton from his spit. You sighed in delight, a whine following when his fingertips pinched your other breast.

“Aegon,” you mewled, the sound so sweet to the king’s ears. Your hand traveled down his unscarred chest, and down to his bulge. You squeezed him through his trousers, rubbing his clothed tip with your thumb. Aegon shamelessly moaned against your chest, hips subtly bucking into your touch. A dampness on his front started to mirror the ones on your nightgown, an ache in his tip making him bite the supple underside of your bosom. His larger palm settled on your waist, urging you to straddle his lap. You hesitated, refusing to move in fear of putting him in pain.

“I will hurt you,” you said, to which the king only replied with a fervent shake of his head.

“You won’t, I promise. P-please…” he insisted. You lifted your other leg, caging him between your thighs. Lifting the hem of your nightgown, you pulled the sheer cotton off, baring yourself to your king.

The air in Aegon’s lungs was taken away from the sight of you. He was stunned, his eyes trailing down your tantalizing form as he committed the sight to memory. If he were to perish on the morrow, he would do it happily if it meant seeing this image of you before he took his last breath.

“You are perfect,” he breathed out, a smile rising on his cheeks when you blushed.

He knew why you were doing this. It was your act of rebellion, your bitter revenge on your husband. Perhaps he should feel hurt, refuse to be used like a pawn, but if he got to have you like this, he could hardly complain.

With bated breath, he let you untie his undergarments, pull out his cock, and stroke it in your palm. It had twitched when you bent to drop a dribble of spit to lubricate his length, and Aegon couldn’t help but imagine all of the times in the past you must have done the same to his brother. Though he figured it mattered little when you were with him in the present, and he vowed to treat you well, better than Aemond ever could, so he may have you again in the future.

His length was hot and heavy against your palm, his scent heady with musk. You had barely spared it a glance when you would urge Aegon to let you apply the soothing balm to the scars on his lower body, but now, it stood tall, commanding your attention. You bit back a moan when you ran his tip against your slit, though your king made no effort to hide his delight. You were growing deliciously wet, painting his tip with your arousal. He would have to taste you next time; perhaps make you ride his face. What a wonderful treat that would be.

Deeming yourself ready, you looked to Aegon. He held your cheek, urging you close for another kiss. It was deep, all-consuming, a silent vow from him to you.

I am yours.

Take me as you wish.

Pulling away, you grabbed his length once more, aligning his tip to your entrance. You both moaned in delight when you began to sink onto his cock, burying him to the hilt. It was a delicious stretch, bringing about a deep satisfaction in your chest after having gone untouched for so long. Aegon gripped your waist tight when you began to bounce up and down at a steady pace, seemingly eager to chase your release without needing the time to adjust.

You mounted him like a horse, your loyal steed. Expert hips moved with grace, your hand planting on Aegon’s stomach to steady yourself. You rode him with an air of desperation like you had a point to prove. You wanted to feel that you were still desirable as a woman, and you needed him to prove it true.

Aegon’s mind was in the heavens. Your walls swallowed him so deliciously, it rendered him witless. He moaned unabashedly, echoing your name into the night. In all his depravity and frivolities, nothing tasted better than fucking your brother’s wife. You were a sight to behold, with your glistening, bouncing breasts and head tilted back in delight. Your brows furrowed while your jaw fell slack, the sweet, sweet music of your pleasure filling his senses. Tears had started to streak down your cheeks; from pleasure or guilt, he knew naught.

Before him was no princess, no, you were a goddess divine.

The wounded king had started to buck his hips against yours, but his weakened body made it difficult to help you chase your release. Pain bloomed on his side, making him grit his teeth. You had slowed your movements from the momentary look of discomfort on his face, making you cup his face in return.

“My king–"

“No, no, keep going, please! Don’t stop,” he babbled, gripping your waist tight to make you continue your ministrations. You could hardly express your worry when his strong grip made you lean over with a yelp, holding onto the headboard above his head. From this position, your breasts dangled over Aegon’s face at a perfect angle. He took your teat into his mouth, suckling the plump mound. The air was starting to grow thick with the smell of sex. Sweat dribbled down your back, as it did on Aegon’s temples.

“I’m so close, gods!” Your thighs were starting to tremble under Aegon’s palms, and he could only hold onto your plump rear to guide you to your release. With a thumb drawing tight circles on your pearl, it took little time for your walls to start squeezing his cock, signaling the start of your release. You came with a cry of his name, your king following suit with a muffled grunt into your chest. His warm seed painted your walls, and he could only hope you would let it find its home in your womb.

Perhaps he could make you round with child, yes, that would surely cement his victory over his brother.

You had returned to his side, breathlessly plopping down onto the mattress. Burrowing yourself into his chest, you let out a delighted hum as your lover planted a kiss on your forehead. Tilting your head to look at him, you found his lips once more. In the dead of night, no other words had been exchanged, just your sighs of contentment.

It was then you heard the thunderous flap of a dragon’s wings over the city. Aegon was startled into defensive alertness, assuming it was their enemy, but the look of utter dread on your face when the dragon’s monstrous size blanketed the Keep in its shadow signified it was no foe.

Aemond had returned.

[pedroscurls]

in every lifetime

summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy! next part.

“I’ll be back.”

“But what if–”

“I always come back, bub.” Logan’s looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard. 

“Logan…” Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but there’s a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back. 

“Wait for me, then.” He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. “Okay? Wait for me.” 

“Logan,” you repeat. “What do I do if I– if I lose you?” 

There’s a feeling in the pit of Logan’s stomach, a sense of dread and fear that he’s only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye… That maybe if he does go, he won’t come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesn’t heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows he’s sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.

But now, the thought of dying… It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that he’d leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought he’d be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed. 

Through it all, you stayed. 

And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything he’s been through, the things he’s seen, the things he had to do, the people he’s lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living. 

“Then, you move on, darlin’.” Logan finally answers. 

“And if I can’t?” 

“You’ll have to.” 

“I don’t… I don’t want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you and–”

“I love you with every fiber of my being, baby,” Logan interjects. “And I will love you in every lifetime.” 

And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or… Or that he was no longer here. It wasn’t until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct. 

You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Logan’s death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him. 

You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him. 

In your dreams, he was alive. 

In your dreams, he had made it back home.

In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura. 

And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasn’t alive. He wasn’t coming back home. He wasn’t ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura. 

Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on. 

For yourself.

For Laura.

For Logan. 

—

He didn’t know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasn’t even his timeline; he wasn’t even meant to be here. Despite saving Wade’s timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about. 

But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wade’s family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about. 

Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret. 

Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm. 

He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that he’d do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldn’t stop it. 

Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didn’t think he was deserving of it. Of you. 

“I love you, Logan,” you had said, wincing at the pain. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–” Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. “Please, baby, please please please, don’t–”

“I–” you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. “I will love you in every lifetime, Logan.” And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms. 

Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself. 

That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something… To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right. 

“So, will you meet her?” Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. “She– She used to be with this universe’s Logan and…”

“No chance, kid.” Logan interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not him.” 

“Did you have someone like her in yours?” she asks. “She’s always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didn’t have to, when she was grieving. And I think–” Laura sighs. “I think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.”

“I’m not him,” Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. “‘Sides, she’s better off without me.” He stands from the table and walks out into Wade’s balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.

“But she’s coming tonight,” Laura finally says, long after Logan’s walked away.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didn’t belong here. He’s already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wade’s apartment, an arm slinging over Laura’s shoulders so casually, so maternally. 

He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he can’t help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until you’re the only one he hears. 

Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought he’d be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. There’s a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that you’re probably expecting someone else, expecting this world’s Logan and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again. 

But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, you’re already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he can’t fully concentrate. 

“You…” he hears you say, voice unsteady. “You’re not… I’m–” you sigh and shake your head. 

“I know who you are,” Logan finally says, his own voice shaky. 

Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isn’t your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him – much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl. 

“From Laura?” you ask hesitantly. 

“From my universe,” Logan answers. 

“There– There’s a version of me in your universe?” 

“There was.”

“And what happened to me?” 

Logan’s jaw tightens. “The same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.”

“Oh.” Your face drops, eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didn’t believe it himself. 

And you… You were the best thing to ever happen to him.

“Don’t know why you’re apologizin’,” Logan mutters. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. “I just– Losing my Logan just crushed me and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.” 

My Logan. 

Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isn’t a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him. 

“That’s okay,” Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. “I don’t think it’s easy to recover from losing someone you love.”

“Did you– Did you love me in your universe?” 

Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. “With every fiber of my being.” 

Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles. 

“Did you love me in yours?” Logan asks hesitantly.

You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. “I’d love you in every lifetime.” 

Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes. 

“I’m not him,” he whispers. 

“I know,” you say quietly. “And I’m not her.”