#I get so much serotonin from him

[1544cimn]

Finally have a more complete Platypus Sona ref sheet. I love him

[canisalbus]

So i remember an ask mentioning your mortal enemy, Felis Atra and their cats, and i thought it'd be fun to draw what Felis Atra's version of your italian dogs would be.

I think they would be called Butter Knife and Flamengo! Butter Knife is not his real name, it's an nickname given by his peers because of how harmless he is. I choose Flamengo because that's the name of Vasco's rival football team here in Brazil, so i thought that was the perfect name :)

Cat Machete was slightly inspired by the Oriental Shorthair cat because of their long noses and thin head shape.

Cat Vasco was inspired by the Scottish Fold cat, because FLOPPY EARS. I gave Flamengo longer ears and orange fur to make him more like his look-alike.

The last doodle is a reference to this ask (https://canisalbus.tumblr.com/post/728923918314946560/me-i-am-machete-ear-fan-number-1-those-ears) and contains the tumblr ask stand-in dog, whose cat version was inspired by the American Curl cat! They have round ears that are slightly floppy outwards.

Final notes: I know cardinal clothes don't come in vibrant blue, but i was ADAMANT on switching Machete's and Vasco's clothing color patterns. I would draw the rest of Butter Knife's and Flamengo's clothes, but i suck at designing cool outfits.

Speaking of outfits, for Machete's iconic void outfit, i figured it would be fun to make it more baggy for Butter Knife, in contrast to Machete's, that looks very tight-fitted. I think it's cute, it kinda looks like a sweater. Also i can't imagine a Machete doppelganger without high heels boots, so those HAD to stay.

Oh, and just to be clear, i'm not like, claiming ownership of these guys or anything. I just thought it would be a fun exercise. Hope you like them!! I love your art and your characters.

.

[thecursedanon]

Amusement Park Shenanigans

Alternate title: Never agree to go to an amusement park w/ Gojo. Characters: Switch!Yuji, Lee!Nanami(technically switch!Nanami, but only briefly.) Ler!Gojo, Megumi, Nobara. (brief mentions of Shoko, Suguru and Haibara.) Genre: Fluff (also some hurt/comfort if you squint enough at certain points) Word count: 6388 Description: Gojo decides to take the students to the amusement park, and drags a very unwilling Nanami along with them... after trying to failing to convince Gojo to let him leave, and one too many grumpy remarks from Nanami, Gojo decides to do what Gojo does best... cause absolute chaos. Part 2: (click here)

It was a comfortable day, the weather was beginning to cool down as they just entered into fall. The leaves began to change into varying shades of amber or red, and everyone seemed a bit more light and cheerful at the beauty of the changing season.

Well… not quite everyone… 

You may not be very light or cheerful if you were stuck at an amusement park chaperoning a gaggle of students.

“Can we leave now?”

“Aw come on, Nanami,” Gojo pouted. “Lighten up! We're at an amusement park, you mean to tell me you're not having any fun?”

Or if you were Kento Nanami.

“Not in the slightest.” He retorted, still unsure just how he ended up accompanying them to begin with. It’s entirely possible Satoru had suggested he tag along and rather than argue with him, which would require paying attention, he half listened and just agreed to whatever childish assertion he had made. 

Satoru grinned at his friend’s discontentment. “Where's your sense of childlike adventure and amazement?? Just look at Yuji, he's having fun.”

The white haired teacher gestured to Yuji, who was currently stumbling around the park like a baby giraffe learning to walk, evidently dizzy from one too many go-arounds on the rollercoaster they just returned from.

They had stopped in an out of the way area of the park so that the boy could recover… which evidently wasn’t going well.

The pink haired teen eventually lost his fight with gravity and fell over, if this had been a cartoon you probably could have seen stars circling around his head.

“See? Childlike amazement.”

Yuji gave a grin to the others, a dazed look on his face. “I'm having so much fun!! Just tell me when the ride is over!”

Nanami gives the boy a silent look of concern as he sighs. 

“Alright alright, take five, ya finger eating freak.” Gojo laughed and bent down to pat the pinkette on the head. “But hey, don't just take Itadori’s word for it--” Suddenly Gojo was beside Nanami, whispering to him. “Because the kid is a little… strange.”

The next moment, Gojo was beside Megumi, who had a bright pink sakura flower balloon tied to his wrist and looked as though he was being held there against his will. “Megumi, you're having fun with your beloved sensei's, right?”

Megumi grunted in annoyance. “Somehow this is worse than that time you rented a bouncy house when I was ten…”

“Hey, kids love bouncy houses!” Gojo argued.

“Too bad it wasn't for them.” The edgy teen sighed, recalling what was apparently a painful memory for him.

Satoru pouted, pinching his emo son’s side, producing an uncharacteristic yip from the boy. “You can't argue that it wasn't a totally fun Friday night!”

“Fine… allow me to rephrase my question.” Nanami readjusted his sunglasses with a sigh, not bothering to cover up his annoyance with being dragged to a place full of people on one of his mythical days off. “Can I leave now?”

“Haaaah?? Why would you want to leave???” Gojo reacted as though he'd just witnessed a terrible accident in slow motion… kind of like Megumi recalling the bounce house incident . “This is family bonding day! And last time I checked you're still part of this family-- whether you like it or not!!” he quickly added at the end, sensing Nanami was about to deny it.

Nanami glanced at the group of kids they were chaperoning. “You know I hate amusement parks.” He said, this time quieter so only Satoru could hear him.

Gojo blinked in confusion from behind his sunglasses as he tried to pull a lost sequence from his memory. Did he know that? Now that he mentions it… he did recall something about an amusement park… but what?

While Satoru was silent (for once), Nanami took this as his chance to really try to convince him. “And besides… I doubt the kids would even notice I'm gone.”

Satoru stared blankly at the blonde, still attempting to force the two remaining neurons that weren’t focused on being a menace to spark the memory that was just evading his grasp… Can you hear the dial up tone?

“Hey… that’s not true!” Yuji interjected, pulling himself together as he stumbled towards his father figure. “I’d notice you were gone.”

Nanami’s face softened as he looked at Yuji. “Itadori… wouldn’t you have more fun running around with your friends? I’ll just slow you all down.” he responded, his tone less harsh than before.

“No way, I won’t have nearly as much fun without you here.” He frowned, hitting Nanami with one of the classics… the puppy dog eyes. (dun dun dunnnn)

“Y-Yuji.” Kento warned, shifting his gaze uncomfortably away from his student but no matter where he looked there Yuji was… leaning more and more into the act.

“OH! I remember now!” Gojo said suddenly, inadvertently startling Yuji and causing him to fall over, evidently still not fully recovered from all the roller coaster rides.

Nanami flinched inwardly as Gojo leaned closer to him. “What?”

“Come on, Kento… how can you say no to that sweet boy? He looks like he’s about to cry…” The chaotic teacher cooed at Yuji as he resumed his puppy dog eyes… from his new spot sitting on the ground.

Nanami huffed, turning away again as he crossed his arms. “Itadori… Just because that works on Megumi and Gojo doesn’t mean it’s going to work on me..”

“How hurtful! I think you owe us an apology for being so grumpy…” Satoru mused, winking at Yuji as if to tell him to follow his lead.

“I am not apologizing to you…” Kento grumbled, briefly shooting a glare to the white haired man.

“No? Be reeeeeally sure about that before you respond.” Gojo warned the blonde teacher.

“I said no.”

Satoru sighed softly with an almost threatening grin on his face, slowly slipping his sunglasses off and attaching them to his shirt collar. “I didn’t want to do this… but you leave me no choice.”

Nanami scoffed and turned back around to face him, upon locking eyes with the older man, he felt a familiar wave of panic flood over him. “Satoru…” Panic he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Gojo grinned even more as he rolled up his sleeves, approaching him slowly. “Yes, Kento?”

“Wh-What are you doing…?”

Kento mentally swore at himself for backing away from Satoru, he should be standing his ground right now… but that look… he recognized that look a little too well. And he didn't like it… (or did he?)

“Well, since you’re being such a grump I figured I’d fix your attitude for you.” Gojo hummed, a predatory glimmer in his eyes as he began to close the gap between them, raising his hands. “A few pokes here, a few squeezes there… and a whole bunch of tickles right there and voila! Good as new! One happy giggly Nanami ready to spend time with us without much complaint!”

Nanami’s eyes widened as he felt the color drain from his face. “Satoru… I will end you if you do this in front of the students.” he hissed as he began to back away again.

“What students? They’ve all scampered off… well, except for that kiddo right there.”

As if on cue, Itadori hooked his arms around Nanami from behind, grinning at the soft gasp he received. “What's wrong, Sensei? You look a little nervous…” the teen grinned.

“Itadori,” Nanami struggled in his hold to no avail, Yuji was using all of his strength to contain the stoic teacher in a bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides to stop him from breaking free. “if you don't let me go right now, so help me…”

“Threatening the students now, Nanami??” Gojo gasped melodramatically, slowly reaching his hands forward towards his squirming torso. “I'm shocked! Now I really have no choice but to adjust your attitude~”

Kento paused, his eyes catching sight of the slightly wiggling fingers that were inching closer. He felt another wave of panic rush over him, but attempted to not let it show, steeling his face as he forced himself to look away from Satoru. “Yuji… please let me go. I'm sorry for upsetting you.” He tried his hand at reasoning with the student as a last resort.

Unfortunately, he didn't receive any support there either. Yuji smiled, angling his head upwards to rest his chin on the back of Nanami’s shoulder. “There's no need to be sorry… I know crowds aren't really your scene.” He sympathized. “But… I did mean what I said. I do want you here… so I'm sorry for ambushing you like this.”

“Oh, so you can apologize to him, but not me??”

“Of course I can, I actually care about him.” Nanami retorted dryly, despite his impending doom.

Satoru gasped, his eyes dancing with amusement. He leaned in closer, speaking in a quieter tone. “You know, Nanami… if you wanted to be smothered with tickles so badly, all you had to do was ask~”

Satoru leaned back, allowing his teasing words to sink in for full effect before cracking his knuckles dramatically. “Alright Itadori, make sure to hold him niiiice and still for me, okay? Our dear sweet Nanami here turns into a wiggle-worm when he gets laughing.” he grinned as Yuji nodded in support, tightening his arms around him, but not so much so that it caused him any real discomfort.

“Both of you… this is ridiculous.” Nanami sighed, hoping if he didn't give the reaction he was looking for hoping that he'd grow bored quickly and go back to whining… as much as Kento hated his incessant whining. “Can you both stop being so chi--” he promptly stopped mid sentence as he felt Satoru grab his sides, lightly fluttering his grip.

“I'm sorry, what was that Nanami?” Gojo grinned. “I didn't quite catch that… what should we stop being?”

Kento took a subtle steadying breath, locking eyes with his tormenter with a blank look on his face. He didn't even dare to so much as flinch when Gojo touched him.

“As I was saying… can you both stop being so childish?” He answered calmly, outwardly unfazed by the maddeningly light teasing touches Satoru was administering to his sides.

Inwardly though… he was struggling to maintain his composure, trying desperately not to show any signs of weakness despite how god awfully, completely and utterly ticklish it felt... 

“Childish? Nanami… there's nothing wrong with a little tickling, It serves as a great bonding experience!” Satoru said cheerfully, leaning in closer to tease the blonde. “Especially when you're as ticklish as we both know you are…~”

Nanami choked back his retort, focusing his efforts on keeping his icy composure. “Satoru… the last time you… did this- was when we were in school together.” He reminded his colleague, careful with his words so as not to fluster himself any further than he already was inside. “I've long since grown out of that childish sensitivity…”

But unfortunately nothing slips past Satoru and his infamous Six Eyes, the cheeky little bastard.

“Oho, did you now?” He raised his eyebrows in amusement at his bold assertion, taking his defiance as a full blown challenge. “Well in that case, you shouldn't mind this then… right?”

He walked his fingers slowly up and down his sides, inching closer to his ribs with each trip up.

Nanami broke eye contact with him in an attempt to not react, feeling flustered at the teasing look in his eyes. “Of course I mind it… I don't like being touched by you.”

Yuji blinked, surprised at his calm and even tone. Had this been him instead of Nanami he would've been on the ground in a heap of giggles by now. “Hmm…”

Gojo knew better though, he knew he was slowly chipping away at his defenses. He could see the subtle cues, feel his muscles twitching. “Yes, Yuji? What ails you, my dear boy?” He asked, glancing over Kento’s shoulder to meet Yuji’s gaze- well, what he could glimpse of it with how the pinkette had his face angled, anyway.

“Maybe he's right,” Itadori said with a note of genuine seriousness. “Maybe he's not ticklish anymore… I know I'd be a mess right now.”

“Well, that's because you're hopelessly ticklish~” Gojo teased his student with a wink, grinning at the flustered look Itadori shot him. “So is Nanami though, maybe even just as bad as you.”

Nanami clenched his jaw in aggravation, barely resisting the urge to blush. “I am not. And stop talking about me like I'm not here!”

“But he's not reacting… not even his breathing is off.” Itadori ignored his teacher's protest, continuing to converse with Satoru.

“Well, Itadori, that's because Nanami here is what we call; ✨stubborn✨, and also shy.” Gojo grinned at his students' newfound curiosity, using this to his advantage as another form of teasing. “He needs some gentle reassurances that it's okay if he gives in to the nice tickly tickles and starts blushing and giggling like a schoolboy.” 

“Shut up. I most certainly do not giggle.” Nanami hissed in protest, feeling his face flush.

Whoopsie, that was a big chunk of his facade chipped away, watch your step everyone…

“Aww, see? He's already getting blushy.” Gojo cooed, brushing his fingertips against the bottom of the blonde's ribs. “It's okay, Kento… I don't mind being patient. That cute little laugh of yours is well worth the wait.”

Nanami took a sharp intake of breath, hating the feeling of how each gentle swipe across his ticklish midsection was chipping away at his sanity. “It's not… cute.” He forced out from behind gritted teeth.

Itadori raised an eyebrow, feeling his sensei tremble ever so slightly in his hold. “Does he really have a cute laugh?” He asked, grinning.

“No!”

Gojo laughed at Kento's quick rebuttal. “Yuji, come now, what about Nanami isn't utterly adorable~?” He continued dancing his fingertips lightly across what wasn't blocked off of Kento's ribs. “You know what's reeeeeally adorable about him?”

“What's that?”

“That he can't handle being teased... He gets extra giggly and blushy~” Gojo grinned, leaning in to speak quietly to Yuji, but just loud enough for Kento to still hear. This somehow made the snarky bastard's teases worse.

“Dammit… st-stop it already…!” Nanami huffed, squirming uselessly.

“Naaanami… does this tiiiiickle?” He teased, cooing at him like a damn toddler.

The younger teacher let out a growl of frustration, turning his head to face away from Gojo in a weak attempt to hide his darkening blush. He felt his body beginning to tremble as Gojo completely demolished his defenses.

“Come onnn… let us hear that adorable laugh~” he grinned, deciding to take things up a notch. He honed in on the sensitive spots between his ribs, giving light scratches to the area.

“Stop… I mean it…” he growled, forcing back any embarrassing sounds that may have tried to escape his throat. 

“What's this?? Do I see a smile on your face? but I thought you weren't ticklish anymore, Kento. What gives?” Gojo teased, grinning devilishly.

“Maybe he's finally starting to have fun spending time with us.” Yuji grinned. Thanks Yuji… we knew we could count on you to not bully Nanami too.

“Ooo, maybe! Does that mean you're actually going to ride the Ferris wheel with me?”

“Not on your life.” Kento hissed, his lips trembling as they formed a panicky smile.

“Aww! You're so mean to me…” Satoru whined, an evil glimmer in his eyes as he stilled his movements. “Fine then, since you're going to be so mean, maybe I'll go for your extra tickly spots… now where were those again…?” 

Nanami froze up as he felt Gojo pull a hand back to tap his chin in thought. In the process of doing so, he skimmed his fingertips against Nanami's waist, more specifically along the edge of his stomach. “S-Satoru…”

“Where oh where were those…” Gojo mumbled to himself, unable to keep the grin off of his face as he dropped his other hand, his fingers grazing Nanami's hip. “Oh… I just can't remember… the years are really starting to affect my memory!” He reached up to gently tap Kento's forehead to add emphasis to his words, but on the way up he brushed his fingers lightly against his neck.

Each ‘accidental’ touch, caused Nanami to flinch, the older of the two making sure his victim was well aware he knew exactly where his worst spots were… in his own chaotic Gojo way, of course.

“It’s a shame, really.” Satoru sighed, while he had Nanami distracted and on edge he mouthed a command to Yuji. 

The pinkette grinned mischievously, nodding his compliance as Nanami watched his other teacher cautiously.

“But, what can ya do? That's just life… as we get older, we become slower to react.” The white haired man shrugged, making sure both of his hands were perfectly visible as he did so.

And that's when he struck.

Itadori, without moving too much, reached down with a clawed hand and clawed into the spot along his waist that Satoru had sneakily pointed out earlier, having seen that Yuji was paying attention. (For once.)

Nanami gasped sharply, barking out an involuntary laugh. Shock crashing over him. “No, I-Ihihitadohohori!” The dam finally broke, laughter pouring freely from his lips. “Wahahahait!”

Satoru let out a low whistle. “What's this? I thought big scary Nanami wasn't ticklish anymore?” He smirked.

Nanami blushed, unable to stop the laughter that spilled forth. “Gojoho Ihihihi swehehear… I'm gonnahaha kihihihill you!” He threatened, though his words were… less than intimidating to say the least.

“Wow, you were actually right, Gojo.” Yuji chuckled. “His laugh is pretty cute.”

“Itadorihihi Hohohow could youhuhu?!” Kento's complaints about Yuji's betrayal were broken up by his warm, light laughter. 

Yuji grinned, moving around with his writhing teacher. “You also weren't kidding, he's really squirmy!”

Gojo smiled at the two of them, his mischief briefly shifted into warmth as he was brought back to a happier time.

Watching Yuji and Nanami now, he sees years of anguish and pain melt away even if just for a moment. 

For that moment, Satoru can see a young Nanami being absolutely destroyed with tickles by Haibara, Geto and himself while Shoko shakes her head and giggles at their antics.

It's definitely been far too long.

Gojo blinked, bringing himself back to the present. “Geez Yuji, I told you to keep him still.” He chuckled at how Itadori was practically hanging off of Nanami's back as Nanami had managed to double over with laughter.

“Hey, it's a lot harder than it looks!” Yuji laughed, his fingers dancing relentlessly along the side of his stomach.

“You have superhuman strength and can call on the power of the king of curses… and this is difficult for you?”

“Listen--” Yuji laughed again. “I can be strong all I want, but there's only so much I can do without any help!”

“Surprisingly wise words from you, Itadori.” Gojo grinned mischievously. “Alright alright, I'll help.”

He reached forward, grabbing a hold of Nanami whilst simultaneously administering some quick sneaky tickles to Itadori.

“Hehehey! Do you want mehe to fall?!” Yuji complained, trying to shift away from Gojo's soft pokes and scribbles while keeping his balance.

“Ehh… you've already fallen twice today… What's a third time?” He grinned, tickling Itadori’s neck with one hand, and targeting Nanami's hip with the other.

“Nohoho! Sahahatoru gehehet away!” Nanami laughed, trying desperately to escape the two tickle monsters he had attached to him.

Itadori let out a childish squeal as he flailed, finally falling off of Nanami’s back. He still had a partial grip on his mentor and ended up pulling him to the ground with him.

Gojo laughed, releasing both of them from his tickly hold. 

Nanami had managed to twist around, catching Itadori and breaking his fall with his arm.

Itadori giggled softly as he recovered from the tickles. He felt Nanami carefully press his hand into the back of his neck, then his shoulder, then brush against the back of his head silently assessing the teen making sure he wasn't hurt.

Had it been Gojo who had fallen with him, he wouldn't have cared, and not bothered trying to break his fall. But since it was Itadori- he didn't want him to get hurt.

Once he determined Yuji was okay his body went limp, resting back against the ground while he focused on steadying his breathing.

“Thanks a lot, Gojo…” Yuji huffed, a smile still etched on his face.

“To be fair, I didn't say who I was helping...” Gojo teased, kneeling down beside the teen.

Kento huffed indignantly, his arms tightly wrapped around his middle as he caught his breath. “You're both terrible…” 

Satoru turned his gaze to Nanami, an evil smile on his lips. “Oh, Kento… you didn't honestly think I was done with you yet, did you?” His blue eyes sparkled with a predatory glimmer as he launched himself onto the blonde, thanks to limitless Nanami wasn’t able to put up much fight. 

“Really?” Nanami glared up at him, his sunglasses long since fallen off his face from all his struggling earlier. 

Satoru smiled triumphantly from his spot on Nanami’s thighs.

“You can’t even take me on without the use of your stupid limitless ability?” The stern teacher asked dryly, knowing any struggling his did would be pointless. He wasn’t going anywhere as long as Satoru kept limitless active.

“I thought I’d save us some time… we both know I was gonna overpower you anyways.” Gojo grinned, leaning down and draping his body lazily across Nanami’s to keep him more securely in place, and in doing so he was able to murmur teases into his ear. “All I’d have to do to get the upper hand is…”

He grabbed a hold of the blonde’s hip and began squeezing them relentlessly. “This…”

Nanami gasped sharply, unable to grab the offending hands because again, limitless. “Sahahatoru! D-Dahahahammit stop!”

“Or this…” Satoru shifted his hands upwards, scribbling his blunt nails against the sides of his stomach over his shirt, drawing even louder laughter from the blonde. The fact he could barely move to protect himself made it so much worse.

“Or… this.” Gojo grinned, pressing his lips to his neck and blowing a raspberry against it whilst administering gentle scritches.

“SHIHIHIHIHIT!” Poor Nanami couldn’t even arch his back with Gojo a firm weight against him.

“I think you should’ve just rode the ferris wheel with me.” Satoru teased, blowing another raspberry.

“EHEHEHENouGH Alreheheheady! Ahahahaha!”

“I thought you didn’t giggle, Nanami sensei.” Yuji grinned in amusement, sneaking in some teasing pokes to what he could access of Nanami’s ribs.

Gojo grinned, angling his body in a way that the pinkette had more access the right side of his body while still keeping him firmly held down. 

“You didn’t seriously-” small raspberry. “--believe him over me-” slightly bigger raspberry. “--did you?” BIIIIIG raspberry, followed by what Kento would firmly deny was a squeal. Because if he doesn't giggle, then he CERTAINLY doesn’t squeal. 

Itadori giggled at his reactions, scooting closer to scribble his fingers up and down the side of his ribcage. “No, but I also didn’t have a basis to doubt Nanami either.”

“Oh yes you did.” Gojo laughed, pulling his face away from the blonde’s neck to glance at Itadori. “You had to know he was lying the minute he denied being ticklish still.”

Well fine… If he can’t get Satoru then… “Ihihihi-- I thohohohught Ihi told you tohoho stahap talking about mehehe like I’m not here!” Kento shot his hand out, grabbing hold of Yuji’s side and giving it fluttery squeezes, drawing surprised laughter from the student.

“Aieee! Hehehehehey! Hohohohow are you moving?! Stahahap that!” Yuji squealed as Kento latched onto his ribs next. “Gohohohohojo hehehehelp!”

“Nahhh… You’re a big boy… you can deal with him yourself.” Satoru grinned, alternating between his hip and stomach side with gentle scratches. “It’ll be a good training exercise for you… let me juuust… piss him off a little more for ya~”

“Gohohohohojo!” 

“Sahahahahtoru, I swehehehear to god!”

Satoru ignored both of their protests, pushing his shirt up so he could attack his exposed skin directly. “So If my memory serves correctly, your ticklish spots are as follows,” he grinned, sitting upright. “Hips, Neck, this cute spot here~” he emphasized by fluttering his fingers briefly against his stomach sides. “Ribs are decently tickly… Am I missing anything, Nanami? Am I hitting all the nice tickly spots?”

“S-Satoru… dohon’t.”

“Don’t what? I didn’t even say anything yet.”

“I mean it…”

Satoru grinned. “But Kento, I promised to smother you with tickles… and I wouldn’t wanna disappoint you. So come on, answer my question~”

“Go to hell.” He hissed in response.

Gojo’s grin widened. Welp, nice knowing ya, Nanami.

“On second thought, maybe I will help you, Itadori.” He reached out and grabbed Nanami’s wrist and yanked it away from the pinkette, pinning it above his head quickly and firmly. In a flash, he snatched his other hand and pinned it above his head as well.

Yuji fell back with his arms around his midsection, giggling softly as he panted from the after tickles.

“Gojo, let me go right now.” Kento growled.

Satoru leaned down, grinning that evil grin at him. “Do you really think you're in a position to give me orders?”

“What are you… no… don’t you dare-- nononono!”

Gojo leaned down further, pressing his lips against Kento's exposed stomach and blowing a giant raspberry against it, eliciting an honest to god shriek in response.

“NAAAHAHAHAHAHA! GAHAHAHAD DAHAHAHAHAHAMMIT!” He let out another shriek as the arrogant teacher dispensed yet another devastating raspberry against his toned abdomen. 

Yuji sat up, stunned by the sound of his loud laughter. “Holy shit, Gojo don’t kill him!”

The teacher in question grinned, placing another raspberry against a different spot on his stomach. “Jealous, kid? Don’t worry, I have plenty of tickles to go around.” He winked at the pink haired student, who giggled nervously and wrapped his arms around himself subconsciously.

“GOHOHOHOHJO STAHAHAHAHAHAAP!” Nanami pressed out between deep belly laughs, his face flushed and his eyes tightly shut.

“Aww, but why when you’re having so much fun?” Gojo teased, placing another raspberry. “I remember this used to be your favorite~” 

“I SWEHEHEHEHEAR TO GAHAHAHAD, I WIHIHIHILL EHEHEHEND YOU!”

“Man, you’ve definitely gotten more stubborn and resilient… usually by now you would’ve been apologizing profusely and crying with laughter while begging me to stop.” Gojo chuckled, pausing his ruthless onslaught. “Or maybe…”

He leaned back to admire his handiwork, Kento a breathless blushing mess beneath him. “Maybe you don’t really want me to stop…” his grin widened when he saw Nanami open his eyes and attempt to glare at him. 

“W-Why would… you possibly think that… i…” He gasped out softly, still attempting to catch his breath. 

“Well… why else would you be so grumpy and resistant this whole time unless you wanted to egg me on?”

“To be fair… he is normally like this.” Yuji pointed out.

Satoru shifted so that he could hold both of Nanami’s arms down with one hand, using his newly freed hand to administer swift tickles to Itadori’s side. “Excuse me, but whose side are you on anyway???”

Yuji squealed and recoiled sharply from Gojo’s skilled fingers. “Ihihi wahahas just being hohohonest!”

“And now you’ve distracted me and given him time to think out his response,” Satoru huffed. “You’re definitely gonna get it later, now.”

Itadori squeaked, wrapping himself back up with his arms.

“Well Kento? I’m waiting, why are you egging it on if you don’t like it?” The older teacher turned his attention back to the now less breathless blonde, thanks to the intermission brought to you by Itadori and his big fat mouth.

“Because I don’t want to give you the satisfaction of breaking, that’s why.” He retorted, his face less flushed than previously.

“Ehh! wrong!” Satoru unleashed another tickle attack, his fingers scribbling all across his neck. “Try again!”

“Sahahahahatoru Stahahap!”

“Not until you admit it.” Gojo smirked. 

“Ahahahadmit whahahahat?”

“Admit you missed being wrecked, ya big softie!” He cooed, tracing his fingers along each rib.

“I dihihihihidn’t!” Nanami yelped, squirming as much as he could under his colleague’s technique.

“Wrong again. Itadori, be a peach and come help me, won’t you? It seems Nanami requires more reassurance.”

“Ihihihitadori dohohohon’t!”

“You’re not going to tickle me again, are you?” Itadori asked carefully, eyeing his teacher suspiciously.

“I will if you don’t get your ass over here In the next five seconds.” he responded, an evil glimmer in his eyes.

Itadori let out a sound that could only be described as a whimper as he quickly shuffled over. 

“Gojo, Itadori… don’t even--” His protest was interrupted by another shriek as Gojo blew a massive raspberry against his stomach side.

He released Nanami’s wrists, which Yuji instantly snatched up and pinned down. Gojo used his newly freed hands to drill his thumbs into Kento’s hips as he continued his torturous trail of raspberries and tickly death along his stomach area.

“NAAAAHAHAHAHA! SAHAHAHAHATORU DOHOHOHOHNT!”

“You know how to make it stop, Nanami~” Gojo hummed, administering another devastatingly massive raspberry against the side of his stomach.

“JUHUHUHUST WAHAHAHAIT UNTIL I GEHEHET MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU SOHOHOHON OF A BIHIHIHIHITCH!” The usually stoic teacher threatened between bouts of uncontrollable laughter.

Yuji snickered quietly. “He’s definitely stubborn...” the pink haired teen grinned, shifting so that he could pin Nanami’s hands down with his knee. “Let me take a crack at it!”

He began to claw at his mentors exposed ribcage, his fingers gentle but quick as they expertly sought out sensitive spots. “Nanami~ Does this tiiiiickle?” Yuji teased.

“IHIHIHITADORI! KNOHOHOHOHOCK IHIHIT OFF! STAHAHAP HELPING HIM!”

Gojo chuckled, pausing his attack to glance up at Itadori. “You’re getting pretty good at this, I’ve taught you well~” 

Yuji grinned at the praise from Satoru. “Heh… thanks. I’m just doing what tickles really bad from my own experience.”

The pinkette noticed the higher he moved up Nanami’s ribs, the more he struggled. “Gojo… are you sure those were all of Nanami’s ticklish spots you named off earlier…?”

“Hmmmm? Think I missed a spot?” Satoru played along, grinning that cheshire grin at his student. “It’s entirely possible… he never did confirm or deny if I named ‘em all.”

“Nanami?” Yuji looked down as he stilled his hands, allowing his teacher to attempt to catch his breath. “Did he miss a spot?” he asked innocently, but that smile on his face was anything but.

“I swehehear to god…” He panted. “Whehen I get my hands on you…”

“Now Nanami… that doesn’t sound like an answer to his question~” Gojo grinned, prodding his stomach side and producing a small yelp.

“It’s okay, Gojo.” Yuji responded with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “I’ll find out for myself.”

Then he struck. Digging mercilessly wiggling fingers into his armpits. 

And boy, did Nanami absolutely lose it. Any semblance of composure? Yeah no, gone, we don’t know her. 

Much like Yuji isn’t going to know peace when Nanami gets his hands on him. Rip Yuji lol.

“AAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” He absolutely howled with laughter, struggling with all his might to break free. “NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHERE! AHAHAHANYWHEHEHERE BUT THEHEHEHERE!”

“WHOA! Gojo you didn’t just miss a ticklish spot, you missed the ticklish spot!” Yuji found himself laughing along with his mentor in amusement.

“It looks that way,” Satoru smiled, shaking his head. “So, Kento? Anything you wanna say?”

He grinned, leaning down and placing his elbows on either side of the hysterical blonde, resting his face on his hands as he watched him. In doing this, he was almost entirely draped over him again, greatly limiting his movements.

“SAHAHAHATORU I HAHAHAHATE YOU!”

Satoru chuckled, “Not quite… I think what you mean’t to say was, ‘Satoru, I actually love spending time with all of you.’ and ‘I actually like being tickled.’”

Yuji giggled, speeding up his tickles.

“GAHAHAHAHA! I-I CAHAHAHANT… PLEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAP!” He cried with laughter, tears prickling at the corners of his tightly shut eyes. “PLEHEHEHEHEASE YUHUHUHUJI!”

For a moment, Itadori felt a little bad and looked at Gojo, who shook his head. “Trust me, kid… you’re gonna wanna keep going.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me.” was the blue eyed teacher’s vague and careful response.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!” His laughter started to become hoarse as he tried to hide his face in his bicep. “OKAHAHAHAHAY OKAHAHAHAY! IHIHIHI’LL RIDE THE STUHUHUHUPID FERRIS WHEEL WIHIHITH YOU!”

“Noooo… we’re way past that, the other paaaart.” Satoru reminded teasingly, pinching his side.

“AHAHAHA! FIHIHIHIHINE!! I LIHIHIHIKE SPEHEHEHENDING TIME WITH YOUHUHUHU GUYS!”

“Aaaaand?” 

Oh, Gojo was sooooooo going to get it when he got ahold of him.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” 

Yuji looked up, grinning upon seeing Megumi standing there; pink balloon and all. “Hey Megu-- ACK!”

Nobara came running out of nowhere and knocked Yuji off of Nanami. “Hey, stop picking on Nanami!” she scolded.

Satoru sighed, grinning. Eh… close enough. He rolled off of Nanami lazily, remaining propped up on his elbows next to him.

“Ow! Jeez Nobara! It’s not like I was hurting him or anything, you didn’t have to knock me over.” He mumbled, sitting up.

“He very clearly was struggling to breathe.” Megumi pointed out, eyeing Satoru. “I’m gonna guess this was your idea?”

“How’d ya know, Gumi?” He asked cheerfully.

“Whenever there’s chaos going on you’re the cause.” The edgy teen pointed out, sitting on the ground with the others to feel included.

“Are you okay, sensei?” Nobara asked, helping Nanami up into a sitting position. “Want me to kick his ass?”

The blonde shook his head, a smile still on his face as he struggled to catch his breath. “No… That won’t… be necessary…”

Yuji giggled, leaning over and hugging Nanami. “Sorry I went a little overboard… It was just really nice to see and hear you laugh… I hope you’re not too mad at me.”

Nanami sighed as he (mostly) caught his breath, he reached up and hooked his arm around Yuji’s shoulders, cupping the back of his head as he pulled him closer into the hug. “I’m not mad… embarrassed, but not mad…”

“Why are you embarrassed?” Yuji pulled back slightly to look up at him, confused.

Nanami retorted with a ‘You’re joking, right?’ expression on his face.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, we all goof around like this all the time.” Itadori grinned, beaming up at Megumi, who quickly looked away to avoid blushing at the implication. He then turned his gaze to Nobara, who also looked away with a casual whistle. 

“He’s right,” Satoru chimed in, sitting upright. “It just means we really like you when we pick on you like this.” Yuji nodded in agreement.

“You could like me a little less.” Kento muttered.

“You rested enough to chase down Itadori?” Satoru asked, grinning.

“Not quite…”

“Why would he chase me down?” Yuji pulled away from Nanami, eyeing the stern teacher carefully.

“Ohhh… I forgot to tell you.” Gojo grinned more. “Yeah, there’s a reason I ‘forgot’ his worst spot… It’s because he absolutely destroys anyone who targets it as retaliation.”

Yuji squeaked, noticing the evil glimmer in Nanami’s eyes.

“Yeahhh… Let’s just say ratio can be used for more than pain… Suguru and I learned that one the hard way.” He snickered at the terrified look on Itadori’s face.

“Y-You set me up!”

“I did nothing of the sort, you’re the one who decided to try that spot.” Satoru grinned. “I’d probably start running if I were you… the more tired he is the more head start you have, and since you’ve wasted so much time letting him recover… I’d say you have about a minute to get as far as humanly possible before he hunts you down.”

Yuji yelped and sprung up, taking Gojo’s advice and running away, causing the others to laugh.

“Hey, Megumi, where’d your balloon go?” Nobara asked.

Megumi smirked and shrugged. “Beats me…” 

Nanami was about to get up and go after the pinkette when Gojo leaned forward, hugging his colleague, causing him to tense up. “I’m sorry, Kento… I forgot you used to go to the amusement park with Haibara on the weekends…” he whispered. “But I think he would still want you to go out and have fun… I know Suguru would want that for me.” 

Nanami untensed, frowning as he thought about his deceased best friend. He hugged him back hesitantly. “I miss him… a lot…”

“I know… I do too.”

After a moment they let go. “Hey Satoru…?”

“Yea?”

“...Thanks…” He looked away as he quietly continued. “I… needed that.”

Gojo grinned. “Anytime, buddy~”

Nanami looked around curiously. “Now then, which way did Itadori go? I need to have a talk with him…”

“He went that way.” Nobara pointed off in a direction.

“He should be pretty easy to spot,” Megumi said casually, sipping his drink. “Just look for the person running frantically with a pink sakura balloon attached to his belt.”

Nanami smirked, nodding his thanks as he got up and took off after the pink haired teen.

“I so wanna see this…” Nobara giggled, getting up too. “You coming, Megumi?”

The raven haired teen shook his head, to which Nobara shrugged at and went running after them. “Nanami sensei, wait up! I wanna help!!”

Satoru chuckled and shook his head before turning to address his adopted son. “Did ya have fun today, kiddo?” he asked as he ruffled his dark hair.

Megumi grunted in response.

A shriek nearby distracted them momentarily, causing them both to laugh. Evidently Yuji had been caught.

“I’ve had worse days.” The teen answered, standing up with his parental figure.

Gojo grinned, his face brightening as he threw his arm around his edgy emo son’s shoulders, pulling him into him as they began walking. He knew that was Fushiguro for; ‘Yes dad, I had a wonderful time today.’

“Good. Now then… let’s go get some snacks or something, I saw they were selling cotton candy as big as your head at one of these stalls…”

“I'd be more impressed if they had cotton candy the size of your mouth.”

[fucktheroyals]

You know what the worst thing about putting Tenoch's Namor in more things is? I'm gonna become ever more attached to him and someday theyre gonna try and take him away from us. NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. NAMOR CANNOT DIE AT ANY POINT. I WILL BE SICK.

[coollyinterferes]

//pov ur about to get mugged

[kingspuppet]

I MIGHT BE ABLE TO MEET ROBBIE DAYMOND????? I'm not gonna get my hopes up because that's...a lot of money. But there's a chance!!! They're finally coming to my state!!! ;3;

[ririnpopo]

He's so kirby

[galaxxies18]

「Amidst the Clearing in the Rain」 - Rindou

Ignite A Noise who? Don't know her-

After a whole year of playing I finally have Rindou's initial 5* fully bloomed :D

pt. 1

Rindou Are you headed home? It suddenly started raining, so please be careful. Do you have an umbrella? I can lend you an umbrella if you’d like. MC Wouldn’t it be troubling for Rindou-san? Rindou I’m fine. My house is nearby, so it’s easy to run. More importantly, I’m more concerned about you catching a cold. MC I’ll be sure to be careful. Thank you. Rindou Ah, I’m sorry. I feel like I’ve intruded too much. My family has always been prone to catching colds. I’m sorry. Please, just be careful. MC Then, shouldn’t Rindou-san be careful as well? Rindou I’ve always been quite healthy, so I’ll be fine. Besides, I don’t dislike the rain. You could say I like looking at it. It feels like everything is being washed away. Though it is a bit silly to let your emotions be swayed by the weather like this... I feel like the truth is very close to this, surprisingly. You can’t go against nature. Ah, I’m sorry. I got in your way. If my umbrella is alright with you, it’s in Unei’s office. If you ever need it, please just take it. Well then, please take care. See you tomorrow.

pt. 2

Rindou When it rained yesterday, were you alright? It suddenly stopped as I was about to head home. However, when I left the store, it started pouring again. It caught me a bit off guard. I ran as fast as I could because my house was just nearby, but when I arrived my clothes were soaked heavily. MC Are you alright? Rindou I’m alright. I’m a very healthy person. (coughs) MC ...You’re not okay. Rindou I’m alright.

MC Please don’t overdo it. Rindou Fufu, this is quite refreshing. In Starless, you’re responsible for your own physical condition. Because we fulfil a variety of roles, even an understudy needs t be able to stand on their own. If you're unable to stand on the change, they'll change the starting line up without hesitation. So, I don’t have time to get sick. (coughs) MC Rindou-san...? Rindou I think it’s a bit dusty in here. I’ll be sure to clean up later. (dancing) ….Huh, where did I leave my water bottle? MC Ah, isn’t it this here? Here you go. Rindou Thank you very much. I’ll go grab it. Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hold on to your hand. MC Your fingers were very warm. Do you perhaps have a fever? Rindou (angry) I don’t. I’m fine. Rindou (calms down) ...I’ve caused you to worry. I’m sorry, but I really am alright. I will return to the lesson. Please watch over me if you’d like. MC ...You’re alright, huh.

pt. 3

Rindou (looking around) It...It should be around here somewhere.... MC Rindou-san? Are you reall okay? You've looked pale even before you went to take a break... Rindou (shocked) ...Ah, apologies, you caught me off guard. It seems I've scared you as well. I've been looking for something, but it looks like I'll just have to ask Un'ei later. I'll go back to my lessons. You should also- (collapses) MC Rindou-san!? Are you okay? Rindou Sorry...I'm just a bit... MC You have a fever, don't you? Please take a seat and relax. Rindou Un'ei-kun should have cold medicine, so I thought of looking just for that... MC I'll look for you. Please just sit down. Rindou I'm sorry, I'm troubling you again... I'm always so helpless... MC Hm? Rindou It's nothing. (MC hands over the cold medicine to Rindou) Rindou I'm sorry to bother you, but the cold medicine really helps. I'm grateful to Un'ei-kun for having a medicine box ready. ...Break time is almost over. I was just in time. MC This doesn't work immediately, though? So why don't you just rest for the day? Rindou It's alright. Sitting down made me feel a little better. I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused you. And one more thing...can you please keep this a secret from the others? MC But... Rindou If I'm not in my best, I will be disqualified from being out top. I don't want anyone else to know about this. MC D-disqualified... Rindou I won't forgive myself if that were to happen. I don't want to be taken away from the stage. ...Hah, it looks like it'll rain heavily tonight as well. MC (Rindou-san...)

pt. 4

(backstage, a rearrangement of Niji no Kanata E plays in the bg) Rindou Welcome, MC-san. I'm glad you could make it to the show. MC Uh, are you alright now? Rindou Fufu, I'm alright now. There's no need to worry. The cold is our little secret, okay? MC Please just don't overowrk yourself, okay? Rindou That's right...I don't want to show you such an unsightly view. MC That's not what I meant... Rindou I should really be careful, because I don't want you to be so worried over me. It's embarassing to be seen so weak like that... But, it made me a bit happy. Thank you so much for worrying for me so unconditionally. If you ever got a cold, I should be the first one to know. I'm sure you'll be worried over it, but please let me take care of you as well. MC I hope it doesn't ever get to that. Rindou Speaking of rain, are you alright? It rained a bit a while ago in the morning. MC I was fine. Did Rindou-san get drenched this time? Rindou I had an umbrella with me today, but before I knew it, the rain stopped, and suddenly... Between the buildings, I was able to see a rainbow. It had been a while since I last saw one, so I was really happy to see it. I wish you were there. I wanted the two of us to see it together. I wonder what you would have said at that moment. I really can't hate the rain. The atmosphere during it is so nice. It feels like everything will be washed away as well. It's not good to be so easily swayed by the weather, despite having rain or not... But, if I'm able to see such a beautiful rainbow at the end, then I'll be happy. Like being able to see you smile. You're going to watch the show, aren't you? Please, I want you to keep your eyes on me. Please, only look at me, okay?

[hidrogenium]

@corrchoigilt replied ; henry :)

❝ Cú Ch━ Caster. Good morning ! ❞

[demisexual-eddie-diaz]

please read the tags I put work into those

How many shots would it take for f1 drivers to sleep with another man

But it’s just 10 random drivers

Max: zero, stone cold sober bitch

Charles: 2 or 3, and like after that he would throw himself in there

Pierre: 5, to drown the catholic guilt

Carlos: 4, to drown the expectations from a traditional Spanish family

Lewis: 8, to drown the memories, you know why

Jenson: zero, and bold of you to assume he hasn’t already

Checo: 10+, black out drunk

Kimi: he doesn’t need any but he would take like 5 just because he wants to

Mark: depends on the man, if it’s that man it’s zero, but if it’s the other man then it’s 6

Nico H: zero, kmag literally told him to suck his balls and I’m 100% sure he listened

[sturnsbae]

heyyy can you write smth about matt calling the reader "my baby" in podcasts, videos and even in front of their families without caring who's around?

MY BABY - MATT STURNIOLO

warning: very very soft matt, so if you’re not into pure fluff then this story is not for you!!

—

matt never fails to express his love for you. he’s so passionate about loving you, and making sure you know that. one day around the beginning of your guys’ relationship he had accidentally let a new nickname slip, and you fell in love with it.

you were wrapped in his arms cuddled up in his bed as both of you were dozing off. “i love you. you’re my baby,” matt had groggily let slip out of his mouth. the corners of your lips had turned up when he said this.

“i love that nickname,” you had said. so then it became yours. all yours.

~

the guys are recording a podcast episode on happiness and your name is brought up per usual. matt’s face lights up immediately and a big smile appears on his face.

“oh yeah she’s a huge form of my happiness. it’s like an instant serotonin boost whenever she’s around, she’s my baby.” he smiles, not at all ashamed that both of his brothers are around, as well as all of the viewers who will be listening to the podcast episode.

“it’s so cute that you call her that,” nick smiles in awe.

“it’s disgusting nick, don’t lie to him,” chris groans.

“shut up chris, you’re just mad that you’re single,” matt retorts.

~

matt’s phone rests on the center console of the car facing with the screen up. he’s in the middle of talking to nick when he feels a buzz and notices his screen light up out of the corner of his eye. his head turns and he notices that it’s a snapchat from you.

he grabs his phone and leans back in his chair as nick and chris bicker, opening the photo from you and immediately blushing. he bites the insides of his cheeks to prevent a smile, but ultimately fails when chris calls him out on his so called “antisocial” behavior.

“dude get off your phone, stop being antisocial! we’re filming!” chris rolls his eyes.

matt shuffles to put his phone away, not enjoying the sudden spotlight on him. “sorry sorry, i was just snapping my babyyyy,” he sing-songs to piss chris off.

“ew dude! i hate couples,” chris huffs and crosses his arms as he slides down in the passenger seat.

“you’re just mad that matt is cheating on you with y/n,” nick chuckles from the back seat.

“you know what, you’re right!” chris says as he sits up and gets close to the camera shaking his finger at it, “you know what y/n! i’m matt’s passenger princess not you! and i was his baby first too!”

“oh my god,” matt laughs and rolls his eyes playfully at his brothers antics.

~

you were visiting his parents in boston for the first time, and you were beyond nervous to say the least. it was such a nerve wracking feeling to be meeting the most important people in his life besides you and his brothers.

“they’re gonna love you, y/n. you’re my baby, they know how much i love you. they’re gonna love you just as much, maybe even more!” matt reassures you as you both walk a few paces behind his brothers in the airport.

you give matt a nervous smile as you both approach the car where both of his parents are waiting in the pickup line. mary lou quickly gets out of the car and hurries to hug her boys, before approaching you and matt with a big smile.

“hi sweetie,” she smiles to matt

“mom, meet my baby y/n!” matt smiles as mary lou wraps you in a tight hug.

“it’s so nice to meet you, mrs sturniolo,” you smile.

“oh please honey, call me mary lou,” she smiles at you. you then walk off towards the trunk and put your bag into it. as you walk off, mary lou turns to matt, “now i see why you call her that. she’s such a sweet and pretty girl. you did good, matt.”

—

i’m sooo sorry if this is bad it was so rushed 😭

[clockwayswrites]

Birdritch part 2 Yeah, there's a subscription post now...

Danny pulled another sweet potato fry from his bag before refolding the top to keep it warm. He’d finish all the fries before he even got home, he knew that, but that was future him’s problem. Right then being able to munch on the sweet, salty goodness as he took a shortcut through the park was just what he needed. There was something about Robinson park that always settled him.

It was probably because of the park’s wild, otherworldly nature that came from Poison Ivy’s control. It almost felt ghostly in how unreal it was. It was another thing Danny tried not to think too hard on and just enjoyed. It wasn’t that Danny was ignoring the fact that he was half ghost (as he always tried to convince himself), he just wasn’t dwelling on it anymore. Ghosts had consumed his life for so long and he needed a break.

Even before his accident (it was easier to just call it an accident when people asked about his scars), his parent’s obsession controlled their house, family, and lives. He got now that it wasn’t normal to grow up not cooking because the food might eat you. Or because your parents were too busy in the basement lab to remember. His time away from Amity Park in college made Danny realize that Jazz and his childhood had been at best unsafe and at worst negligent.

It had taken Danny a lot of therapy to be able to say those words.

Being honest, Danny still needed a lot of therapy, but there was only so much progress he could make when he couldn’t really explain that he was half dead and had spent the end of his childhood fighting ghosts, the government, and his parents. He was half tempted to try and track down Harley Quinn and see if she was up to taking on a new patient. (Danny was pretty sure that she wouldn’t rat him out to the authorities.)

A vine thrashed suddenly in front of Danny, hitting the sidewalk with a meaty thump.

Danny froze.

Fuck.

His phone was out of power.

He couldn’t check if something was going on in the park.

While Poison Ivy was much more Pamela Isley than rogue these days, as seen by the city just letting her have control of much of the park, she was still temperamental and the right— or wrong— sort of thing could set her and her plants off. (Sometimes the plants went off on their own. Everyone knew not to be a sleaze bag in Robinson park.)

Slowly Danny started to back up.

Several more vines wretched themselves out of the ground around him.

He could hear shouting somewhere off to his left. Out of the corner of his eye he could see movement from the plants that direction.

Alright, not angry at him then.

Danny crept forward slowly, keeping his motions as calm and small as possible. Just because they plants weren’t angry at him it didn’t mean they weren’t a threat to him. His best chance was to stay on the path and head in the direction away from the noise.

And away from the over sized flowers.

Well fuckity fuck.

Most things Poison Ivy could do weren’t really a threat to Danny. He could phase away from vines, after all. But the flowers? The flowers had pollen and pollen was an unknown; one that Danny didn’t want to be known. Sam was rather certain that the pollens could effect Danny in odd and unknown ways due to his half ghost nature.

He had refused to let Sam experiment on him to figure it out. Comparing her fervor to his parent’s helped shut that idea down for good. Danny didn’t regret avoiding being a lab rat, even as he was staring down the ruby red flowers to his right. He still just had to keep his motions as calm and small as possible.

The flowers were only an issue if they let their pollen out.

Danny started to move in as wide of an arc as he could around the flowers.

While they were closed up he was safe.

Danny’s left hand spasmed.

The paper bag of food crinkled.

The flower petals unfurled.

Fuck.

---

AN: I know there are issues, another no read through late night post, but I'm getting my serotonin where I can. Stay delightful, darlings.

[starry-bi-sky]

Nausea hits Danny like a steamboat. Or maybe a train. Or one of Skulker's punches to the gut -- either way, one moment he's laying on his side, half-conscious and trying to watch the Bat-Man putter about his little detox station as Alfred diligently kept Danny's sweat-soaked forehead dry and his face free of blood. Then the next, a sensation he can only describe as his stomach trying to wring itself inside out claws desperately through his gut.

In the way only the feeling of being about to vomit can bring, Danny has a moment of clarity, and he shoots up from the table as the back of his throat hollows open and he gags wordlessly. "Bucket." He retches, holding himself up on violently shaking arms as his vision begins to swim again. "B'cket, I n'd a buck't."

The man, Alfred, lurches off to the side, and Danny's not quite sure where but he manages to produce a tin bucket out from thin air. just in time for Danny to snag it from his hands and empty out the contents of his stomach into it.

(There was hardly anything in it but his own bile and what little food he'd eaten today -- he hasn't had an appetite since he found his family dead in their beds, silent and peaceful as if all they'd done was go to sleep.)

(He knows not every death is created equal, some are simply clumsy, but still, it just felt cruel--)

When he's done, the little smoothie from hell he left behind is tinged red, and there's the distinct taste of iron on his tongue. It coats the back of his throat, and for a moment, Danny simply stares uncomprehendingly at it.

"Oh," he mumbles, feeling only a little better as his nausea's hotflashing fades and takes with it what little clarity he had left. His grip weakens, and the bucket loosens in his grasp. "Tha's no good."

From the corner of his blurring eye, the Bat-Man stops what he's doing to turn and look at him. Danny can finally see the wide, shock-blue color of his eyes; they look alarmed.

It's okay, Danny thinks, instinctively trying to reassure. Blood-and-spit still coats his bottom lip, as cotton returns to blanket over his brain. His mouth refuses to move however, his jaw feeling too heavy to allow him to make a sound. Alfred takes the bucket from his hands, and only then does Danny realize his soft swaying.

He and the Bat-Man stare at each other, something akin to fear in the other man's eyes, before he breaks the prolonged eye contact and returns to his antidote-making with a renewed vigor.

Alfred comes back into view, and with a kind hand, pushes Danny to slowly lay back down on his side. Danny does so silently, his arms trembling terribly. Alfred's hand cups his cheek, protecting his head as Danny became more vertical, and Danny can't help but tilt his nose inwards and press into the meat of his palm.

His mind is all over the place, low rumbling pain is beginning to set back in again, but Alfred's hand is warm and Danny so desperately needs the gentle touch. It's been so, so long.

Despite making all of his own inventions, Vlad's hands were too soft, too well-maintained, and every saccharine hand he ever laid on Danny was too tight, too possessive, too much. Too thick; syrupy. it felt like a leash threatening to wrap around his throat and chain him to the floor. Danny wanted to carve his own skin out from his body whenever Vlad tried to touch him.

Alfred's hands were rough and callused like his parents' were; toughened from years of hard work and handling machinery. He noticed it before when he was cleaning the blood from his face, but he was noticing it again now, and it was like sleep to the insomnic. Or like a balm to heartburn.

It's okay, Danny thinks deliriously, the reassurance he wanted to give the Bat-Man earlier washing over him instead. It's okay, he breathes carefully, it's going to be okay. I'm going to be okay.

When Danny's finally laying fully back down, the hand on his cheek begins to pull away. The brief respite it gave to his muffled mind immediately combusts, his skin growing cold as his irrational peace crashes and burns at his feet.

His eyes -- since when had they been shut? -- shoot open.

No, no, no, wait, this is wrong.

An agonized whine slips past him, paining and hurting, terrified, and he latches out and leeches his hands around Alfred's wrist. "Don’t go.” Danny rasps, voice breaking in two. “Pl’se, ple’se, please. Don’t leave me. Pl’se don’ leave me.”

He claws at Alfred’s sleeve, trying to pull him closer with a low cry. Tears bubble and bleed onto his eyelashes, his core hums and he can feel the ectoplasm beneath his skin begin to buzz. No, no, no, he was doing so good. He was doing so, so good.

Like sharks smelling blood in the water, Danny can practically feel the blood blossom in his veins thicken. Behind his eyes, his mind conjures the image of a wolf lunging at an injured rabbit, and just as its glistening maw snaps down on the animal’s neck, agony ricochets through his lungs.

A sob beats out of his chest, and flowering pain burns through him like wildfire. Clawing maliciously, hungrily, through his nerves and sinew and bone, down to the keratin of his fingernails, and swallowing his head whole. Blood spills down his nose, and Danny cracks out another sob.

“Please!” He cries. He chokes on his lungs, and coughs violent and wet. Iron coats his tongue, and begins dripping into his mouth. Panic fills his head with static, the ectoplasm buzzes louder in his ears. Danny gags on blood.

He manages to latch his fingers onto Alfred’s shirt, scrabbling for the fabric even as the man swoops forward once again and wraps his arms around him. Danny’s propped up, and he pushes his face into the man’s collarbone with hysteric tears burning down his face.

“Don’— don’ leave me. Pl’ase, ple’se, pl’se.” He babbles, voice thickened in grief. Through his tears and blurring lashes, he peers up at Alfred, and catches the stern tightening around his eyes. Terror spins his head this way and that, and Danny’s grip tightens. No, no, no, he’s sorry, he’s sorry. He’ll be good.

More blood fills his mouth, and Danny’s everything is alight in stabbing, terrible agony as the blood blossom toxin devours him whole in renewed fervor. His fear feeds the ectoplasm, and in turn feeds the blood blossom. With another sob, blood spills down his chin and stains down his throat. He chokes, and tries throwing his head back — he’s going— he’s going to get blood on him.

Alfred’s hand stops him, “None of that, Mister Danny.” He orders, sounding deceptively calm as he pushes Danny back against his shoulder. Danny tries to fight against it, but his strength has all but been consumed by the poison, and so he acquiesces with a high whine. “We're not going anywhere.”

Fingers find their way through his hair in an attempt to soothe; it does nothing to stop his snowballing terror, but it distracts Danny from the second bubble of blood pooling up his throat. “M’sorry.” He gurgles. Blood sputters from his lips, and joins the rest dribbling down his chin.

His tears block out his vision. “M’sorry, m’sorry, m’sorry, m’sorry, m’sorry.”

He should’ve— he should’ve known better than to think he could find a way out of this. Blood blossom is blood blossom, and it’s been extinct in the living realm for centuries. But he just- he just wanted to get away, he wanted to hope. But they're not going to find him a cure, he’s going to die here and the blossom will destroy his core and he’ll cease to exist forever.

Another sob tears out from him, leaving its claw marks in his lungs as it verges on the edge of a shriek. “I’m sorry!” Danny wails, creating divots into Alfred’s shirt. “I don’ wanna go, please, I don’ wann’ go. I can b’ good, I prom'z'.”

Alfred’s grip on him tightens, and Danny barely hears the low growl vibrating out of his throat. “Master Bruce.”

“I’m almost done.”

He shouldn’t have bothered these people with his problems, he should’ve just— just found an alleyway to die in. Somewhere away from everyone else— but he didn’t, he had to be fucking hopeful. And now he was going to die here in front of people who didn’t deserve to watch—

“I’ve got it.”

Danny’s vision dots and blacks as Alfred suddenly moves him, and his hands scrabble for him as he starts to pull away. “No no no—” He slurs, more blood spitting from his lips. Don’t leave him alone, please.

The Bat-Man appears to take him instead, a vortex mass of black that sweeps an arm behind his back and pulls him back close. Danny’s fingers, shaking, weak, aching, latch desperately onto what of his cape he can reach. “Don’ wanna die.” He cries, burrowing into Bat-Man’s shoulder. He’s scared, he’s so scared.

A new hand cradles the back of his neck, and Bat-Man’s voice rumbles low like an incoming storm. “You’re not going to.”

There’s a prick in Danny’s arm, cutting through the dying haze of his mind. He nearly misses it, it’s nearly drowned out by the prickling, burning pain consuming him, but he feels it for a brief, singular moment.

Relief sludges through him seconds after, dousing water over his bones and tissue and chasing away the blossom’s ravenous hunger. It spreads through his arm; down to his fingers and up to his shoulder, following along his collarbone and out to weave through his ribs and lungs and heart.

He did it. Danny thinks deliriously, feeling his lungs and sinew attempting to stitch themselves back together as the injection stifles the poison and spreads down to his legs. He barks out a laugh — it hurts, and he regrets it within seconds, but not enough as he probably should. He did it, he did it, he did it.

The Bat-Man carefully pulls the syringe out, and only now does Danny register the old-familiar sting of needle piercing skin. And when it’s placed at Danny’s feet, the Bat-Man raises his hand again and carefully presses his hand — rough and calloused more than Alfred’s — to his jaw. Danny freezes, silent as a mouse, and lets the man tilt his head and press his fingers to his pulse, before using what strength he’s got left in his arms to fling them around Bat-Man’s neck.

The Bat-Man makes a startled grunt, and Danny tries to say something, but it comes out slurred and incomprehensible even to his own ears. So Danny just pushes his face into Bat-Man’s shoulder, smearing blood against the armor weave. He’s too exhausted and happy to feel bad, and he’s shaking so much that it’s only because the Bat-Man tentatively wraps his arms around him in return that he doesn’t collapse.

'Thank you, thank you, thank you.' Is what he wants to say, but he can't find the strength in his tongue to move it. He ends up choking on some sort of half-there sob, hoping that this alone can properly convey the sheer gratitude he feels. The arms around him tighten minutely.

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

Bruce only loosens his hold when Danny's gone completely limp against his chest, and it's only so that he can shift the boy's weight onto one of his arms in order to check for his pulse again. His hand stays remarkably still despite the bone-deep trembling he can feel in his arms, and only when he feels the arrhythmic fluttering of a heartbeat against his skin does Bruce breathe out.

"He's alive." He murmurs, if only for the reassurance to himself. He was alive. Daniel was alive, for now. "Just unconscious." It was hard to say he looked alive. Danny became, somehow, even paler than when Bruce first laid eyes on him, and the blood soaking down his front didn't leave the mind to wander beyond the image of a corpse.

Bruce feels for a heartbeat again, just to be sure.

(He doesn't think he'll ever be able to wipe the image of Daniel wringing out a slur of apologies, thick red blood bubbling out of his mouth as he was actively dying, out of his mind. His hysteric sobs will haunt Bruce's dreams hand-in-hand with the rest of his nightmares. If he'd been a few minutes too late...)

Alfred makes a curt sound, dragging Bruce from an oncoming spiral, and appears with a new handkerchief -- from where, he wasn't sure. "I'm not surprised he passed out." He mutters matter-of-factly, rounding around the table to Bruce and Danny's side. "Simply surprised by how long it took."

"Hn." Bruce plucks the handkerchief from Alfred's hand before he can clean Daniel's face, and begins doing it himself. They'll need to run some kind of DNA scan to figure out his identity, he hadn't given a last name. A blood test too. Danny said his godfather used blood blossom, an extinct flower, to poison him. Bruce wasn't sure if it was true, or just the delirious hallucination of a child trying to survive.

(And if it was true, then there was no telling whether the poison would have any long term effects on the boy. He'd been somewhat stable the entire time -- barring his rapid deterioration at the start when he heard the sound of his godfather's voice -- so his sudden, abrupt, decline had been both alarming and terrifying.)

Alfred arches an eyebrow at him, and plucks the syringe off the table to dispose of it. "May I ask what your next plan is, Master Bruce?" He asks anyways, expertly dismantling the syringe's needle and throwing it in the sharps container nearby. "I hope you don't plan on sending him on his merry way when he wakes up."

Bruce jerks, "What?" He looks up at Alfred, pausing from cleaning Danny's face to stare at him, quietly balking. He hasn't thought of what he was going to do yet, but that hadn't even crossed his mind. "No, I'm not." Not when he wasn't sure what the aftereffects of the poison were like. Not when the only person Danny could go to was his godfather -- the very man who poisoned him.

(And the mere reminder of it forces something hot and dark and angry to bubble underneath his skin, like a dark shadow skimming the surface of the water.)

No, no. Sending Daniel out when he woke up wasn't an option. Bruce would never sleep again if he chose that. But, then-- well, what was? He couldn't keep him in the cave; Bruce spares one glance around the decrepit, abandoned train station, and doesn't even need to consider it.

But the only other option he could safely think of -- one where Daniel would be left undisturbed and unfound by the rest of the world, somewhere no one would think to look, -- was the Manor. Except, if he took him to the manor, how would he explain how he got there? Any and all excuses led to tying Bruce Wayne to Batman.

He looks down at Daniel. Most of the blood has been soaked in by the handkerchief, if he tried cleaning off anymore all he would be doing is smear it around. With the blood no longer being the sole point of his attention, he could finally take in the rest of the child's face.

There really wasn't much to look at beyond, well, just how young he was. Baby fat still clung around his cheeks, and blood was soaked on the dark hair curling at the nape of his neck. Bruce hadn't noticed it earlier, too distracted with trying to do something to save him, but Daniel was as light as a feather. Lighter than he ought to be. Picking up his arm, Bruce silently wraps his fingers around his wrist, and presses his lips together when his fingers touch and then some.

Was he really going to prioritize his secret identity over the safety of a kid?

"Well?" Alfred's voice breaks through the thoughts in Bruce's head, and he snaps his eyes back up to the man who raised him. Alfred's brow is perfectly arched, and he stares at Bruce expectantly, awaiting an answer. "What is your next step, Master Bruce?"

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙟𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨 ✿

characters: jing yuan x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, bad attempt at humor, reader is immortal, established relationship, jing yuan being jealous, found family slightly in there, yanqing coming in at the wrong time pt19487288482877

notes: i have fed yall enough horny food. now its time for fluff food aka small dosage of serotonin. open wideeeee🚂🚂🚂

the constant noise of your irritated lover was something that you disregarded with little to no attention. you could feel it after all. that familiar feeling of your husband’s eyes boring into the back of your skull like the insanely heavy glaive he carries. it wasn’t exactly a common feeling to receive but on the moments that it happens, you could never forget the feeling.

you can just imagine it already. the pout pulling on the white haired man’s lips, the slight narrowing of his eyes, the impatient thumps of his feet rapidly hitting the floor as small sparks of lightning would float around him. of course, you can’t forget the iconic, “what about me?” puppy eyes he pulls.

“beloved” the deep baritone voice of jing yuan calls out, sounding way too serious for anyone’s comfort. if his soldiers that stand guard inside his office would still be around, they would be shivering in their armory from the sheer amount of unsettling feeling it brought. it wasn’t like that they have never seen their general angry or serious. it was just that, it rarely happens and so much fewer now since he was nearing his retirement.

turning around from what you were most greatly occupied with, you give him a few seconds of acknowledgment. finally, you were looking at him now. your eyes on him, the brightest stars he loved to gaze into even as the ever burning ones around him twinkles. you were always his favorite.

“jing yuan” you simply hum with a nod before turning back to what you were obsessing over. the loud dramatic gasp that comes from where your husband is barely fazes you, as you knew he was simply trying to get your attention. you knew your husband like the back of your hand and you knew for a fact that he wasn’t hurt as he shows himself to be.

“how dare you!” the man’s voice raises a bit, the sound of his steps sounding heavier than usual as he finally comes behind you to sweep you up into his arms. you immediately let out a soft grunt, feeling his strong arms tighten around you possessively as he refuses to let you go. instead, he pulls your smaller form flush against himself, face buried into the crook of your neck with a "hmph!". such a big baby you were married to.

"jing yuan, let go of me" you say, not bothering to wiggle yourself out of his grasp since you knew it would be an impossible task. your husband can be dangerously clingy and possessive at times and this was definitely one of those times.

"nuh.." your husband immediately rebuttals, shaking his face and proceeding to nuzzle his face further into the crook of your neck. deeply inhaling your scent, you could see his broad shoulders visibly relax and slump to indicate that he was calming down from his earlier mini temper tantrum. the two of you stay like that for a while. you, held captive in his arms as your husband takes his time to cuddle you close to himself. as close as fleshly possible. not even single moment for something else to wedge between the two of you, not even the cool air of his office. if there were to be the smallest bit of distance between the two of you, he would be extremely deprived of his already dangerously low level of [name] affections.

you had been away to the xianzhou zhuming for a business trip. as one of the most accomplished merchant and the head of the trade association, sometimes your work required you to move back and forth between places, worlds and even galaxies. and this time was no different as your business partner of long time in the xianzhou zhuming had come to a stalemate in their business there due to the ipc's recent dabbling in the xianzhou alliance's trading business. it had dragged on way longer than what you would've liked which also translated to an extended period of time of not seeing your husband, your son and daughter all together. a time away that your clingy husband took very badly, even worse than your son and daughter.

but not for you, as the first thing you did upon coming back from the trip and stepping in through the large doors of his office was to head straight towards your daughter - mimi. the large lion was sulking quietly in his office ever since you went away for your business trip, constantly pawing at jing yuan's clothes and whining for your presence. and upon seeing your face, she immediately pounced in your direction, wasting no time as she pushed you down into the hologram showcasing the large starchess board as she licked all over your face. an act of affection that you returned with a hearty laugh and kisses to her adorable fluffy face. an act of affection that your husband was very very very jealous of.

he was supposed to be the one to tackle you down and pepper your face in kisses and in return have his face peppered in kisses in return! not mimi!

and yes, jing yuan was jealous over his own fluffy daughter stealing his spouse away from him. blatantly, unabashedly, without shame was jealous over. which led to now, in you being trapped in his inescapable hold. really, the galls of this man.

"mmrrp? mrreeow?" mimi meows, butting her head against jing yuan's legs to get his attention while also making it sound as if she wanted the attention back on her again. it was tough having not one but two needy lions scampering for your attention.

"mimi, you have already had enough of their attention. now it's my turn with my own spouse!" jing yuan chides the lion softly, making her let out an irritated huff. mimi wanted her parent's attention but jing yuan also wanted his spouse's attention. it was a tug of war between the two lions with you as their unfortunate victim.

after many back and forths between the two lions, jing yuan had decided he had enough and decided to swoop you off of your feet. quite literally. the smug bastard had kicked your legs under you, making you fall back into a dip with a startled gasp. giving you an "i told you so" look, your husband cups your cheek in the palm of his hand before leaning in to place a fluffy of kisses on your face. cheeks, the bridge of your nose, forehead, chin, eyelids, lips - nowhere was free from the mercy of his kisses and jing yuan was going to make the whole world be reminded that you two were happily married.

"general! i heard that [name]'s bac-EWWWW!!!" the sudden barging in of you two's son is what finally separates you from his barrage of kisses. turning to look at his son, jing yuan makes a shooing motion with his hand - momentarily letting go of you cheek in the process - with mimi.

"me and [name] are busy right now, yanqing. take mimi out for a walk for an hour or two" the white haired man says without an ounce of shame, your breathless self still in his hold. reluctantly, yanqing does as told, calling mimi to his side to leave you two lovebirds be for some time. but not without one final word of advice.

"wait until back home at least, you two!!" and with that, your son and daughter were gone, leaving you both behind to have at least a small dose of affection that the both of you were deprived off of. with an amused chuckle at his son's words, he shakes his head before turning to you with his resting cat face. pair of golden eyes crinkling as mirth and devotion dance in them while his lips pull upwards into the genuine smiles he permanently has on his face whenever you were in his line of sight. all jing yuan could do was thank the reignbow arbiter and every aeons out there for granting him to be able to live in the same time as you.

"how i am blessed to be with you, my most beloved"

[katiascraft]

"I'll pay the price i guess" | OP81

Parings: Oscar Piastri x famous!singer!reader.

Summary: the world hates you are dating Oscar.

Now playing: "Slut!" by Taylor Swift.

Word count: +1,3k.

Warnings: mentions of slu*, b***h, etc. pure fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be errors. Not proofread.

Author's note: I loved writing this one 🥹 the boy that you at Osc. Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

Flashes were leaving you kind of blind right now. You and Oscar were invited to the Cannes festival because one of your best friends from the industry, Zendaya, invited you and your boyfriend to live the experience and see the premier of The Joker 2 movie - you absolutely adored Lady Gaga. Obviously you were so excited to be here. It was the both of you first time at the festival.

Photographers screamed at you to get pictures and made you look at them. It was a thrilling experience. You were more comfortable than Oscar with this. You came into the spotlight when you were only 17 years old with your first song that went viral on musically (TikTok of the past).

For that reason you were used to scrutiny that the media put you under. Social media was cruel to you. Everyone had an opinion on you and who you dated or not.

Oscar and you met back in 2023 when he was a rookie in formula one. You met at a party thrown in Monaco when you were on vacation. One of your friends knew Lando so you basically met because of him.

When you met Oscar you just couldn’t help but become obsessed with his Australian accent and his smile. Oh god - his smile. You fell in love with him right there hearing him giggle. You were completely flattered and he found you so adorable.

The chemistry between you two was unmatched. The way you both knew what you were thinking just by a look. The way he knew what you needed when you needed it. The way he knew his tongue will make you crumble on the bed. The way he made you grab the sheets until your knuckles went white. He was the most handsome guy you’ve ever seen. The hottest. And the sweetest soul in this world. Or at least in your world. The way he made you laugh was the serotonin you always needed to feel the happiest. And oh he knew it. He knew it all. He knew everything about you and he loved being your weakness as much as he enjoyed being yours.

Because of you being used to the spot lite. You knew it was best if you kept your thing a secret. He was new into all of the media mess and you didn’t want to be part of that. You didn’t want people to tear him down the way they did to you. You wanted to protect him. So he agreed to maintain your relationship a secret. You felt bad though. You wanted to scream to the world that you were his. And that he was yours. But you couldn’t let people destroy what you have. even as much as it hurt you.

Having a secret was nerve racking to you. You didn’t know when or how people could find out about your romance. Its was very stressful. But you had the time of your lives. It turned out to be even fun. A little tempting. You two always joked around and pretended to be friends or you hid where cameras couldn’t catch you. Most times you couldn’t be with him at the races and he couldn’t assist to your concerts when you went on tour. And that was the hardest part. Not being able to enjoy what he loved the most with him and viceversa. That broke you a little.

After being dating for a year already - you committed a mistake. You went to charle’s birthday party in Monaco. And the pictures went up online. The secret was over and the internet went mad about it. Everybody was talking about you two. Most comments were negative. People hated you two were together and happy.

That’s when you had your first panic attack. You knew how mc claren fans were about Oscar. They were so protective. He was the lover boy. The single one. The one everybody wanted. And now he wasn’t. He was yours. And the world hated it.

They called you so many things. Slut was the nicest comment on your comment section. Media was dragging you. Now everybody hated you. Since those photos came out you were the most hated person on the internet.

You and Oscar had such a rough time. He couldn’t bear how people could be so mean to you. He was hurt as much as you were. People were saying he was too good for you. But he thought otherwise. You were too good even for this cruel world. You didn’t deserve any of that shit. He was mad. The races after the pictures went up he almost didn’t do media. He answered shortly and with a poker face. He didn’t want to be part of it. And it didn’t matter. The only things that matter were you and what he did in the car. There were no need for further questions. People started hating on him for that. They said you were the problem. You made him mean and boring. You stole his light. They weren’t letting you win.

And you couldn’t believe what they said. In a world of boys he was such a gentlemen. The most caring and loving and empathic man you’ve ever known. People are cruel, so cruel. Your heart was broken.

But that didn’t end you. You knew you were end game. You were meant to be with each other. There wasn’t other way in this life. It was him. He was the one. The love you felt for each other was immense. You could get through this.

And you did.

“You okay baby?” He put you out of your thoughts with his sweet raspy voice intensifying his grip on you. You smiled widely at him. He smiled back at you. And in that moment you remembered why you were end game. You didn’t care about what people said. The only thing that mattered was him and you. Only you two against the whole world.

And if that meant to be a slut then it would be worth it for once. You didn’t care anymore. You would be the bitch of the country for him. And you know he would love it. He would love to see that people were mad in the head hating on you knowing how amazing you were. And only he did know. The world was gonna be fucked. You two were crazy that’s right. And crazy for each other too. What a thing you came to the Joker 2 premier.

You looked deep into his eyes “I’m all alright my pretty boy” you said quirky and he couldn’t resist it. He kissed you in front of the hundreds of cameras there were. You smiled in his lips. You were flustered. Red. He was the boy of your dreams. You really wanted a family with that man. He was everything to you. Photographers lost their shit there. The flashes intensified. And you felt so happy to be so open. To be real there with him. To not hide anymore.

You would take all of the hate of the world on your shoulders and enjoy it if that ment you two were gonna be together forever.

He giggled in your lips pulling apart. That melted your heart. You grabbed your dress a little so you could walk and he offered his hand. You took it and intertwined your fingers walking a little more into the red carpet. Lando and his girlfriend were ahead next to you on the carpet and they looked at you with a huge a smile. They also knew everything.

You could feel Oscar feeling so happy and proud to have you by his side.

“End game baby” he said proudly posing for the camaras grabbing you by the waist.

You fixed your hair a little smiling and posing “end game my baby boy” you said lovely making him kiss your head.

______________________________________________________

I hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send me your requests!

[lokischocolatefountain]

Denial || Men Like Me

Part 2 of the Men Like Me series. Part 1

Masterlist

Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: girthy age gap, virgin!reader, eventual loss of virginity (not in this chapter), masturbation (male & female), cis fem reader, descriptions of reader's body, somewhat creepy!Joel, fetishization of youth, dom!Joel, Joel ignores you until he can't, slightly insecure reader, very insecure Joel, corruption kink, mild fem!dom, reader turns the tables a little, name calling, fetishization of virginity, face fucking (not the mouth, but cheek), kneeling, stripping, moneyshot, fingering, sexual discoveries. Word count: 10.4k Summary: After your steamy encounter, Joel ignores you out of guilt, leaving you feeling unworthy. But you make a discovery that makes you turn the tables on him. A/N: The reception that chapter 1 got gave me enough serotonin to keep me going, you guys. I hope everyone likes this chapter at least half as much if not as much as the first one. Even the half would give me a lot of joy. And do say hi in my inbox or my asks. I would loooove to talk about these two. As always, pleaaaaaase give me reblog and/or a comment to recharge my writing batteries. Most importantly, a big thanks to @tobuildahomeinthewoods because the smut part was from their idea in the last chapter's comments .

“Long day, huh?” 

“What?” you asked, your brain taking a second too long to process the words. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah,” you said, going back to your glass of whiskey. 

“I heard about the kids. They gotta be more careful,” Tommy said, looking to his brother for some kind of confirmation. Joel nodded hesitantly, his eyes looking everywhere but you as he traced the rim of his glass with his middle finger. So cavalier like he didn’t fuck you with that very finger. Asshole. 

“Yeah, yeah. Climbing trees is not wise,” you agreed, willing yourself to look away from his brother. You didn’t want to get caught staring, or worse glaring. The chatter of the dinner crowd at the Tipsy Bison drowned into the sound of you tapping your fingers on the wood counter of the bar. You got up abruptly, the bar stool going down from the force of your actions. You bent over to pick it up, a hand moving to your chest instinctively to keep from flashing everyone. With no such protection for your ass, you could feel familiar eyes on them. Eyes that you’d become accustomed to having on you no matter the distance. 

“You ok–” Tommy began, but you cut him off.

“You have a good one, Tommy,” you said, grabbing your bag from the bar counter and slinging it over your shoulder. “I gotta go. I’m really tired.” 

Like the fool that you were, you picked your glass up and downed the rest of the whiskey, your throat rejecting the choice with a cough that had you spit out half of the burning liquor. Great. Now you’d have to wash your scrubs before going to bed so it didn’t stain. Fucking great. 

There were some protests from the younger Miller brother, some words of concern. But you ignored him as you hurried out of the Tipsy Bison and into the night. At least one of the Millers had some manners. And it wasn’t the one that broke into your house and showed you what a clitoris was. It was fucking embarrassing that he was ignoring you after that. Even more embarrassing that you had to learn it from a random guy when you were the one poring over anatomy textbooks trying to become a doctor. You should know anatomy better than anyone else. Your mentor should’ve taught you. You’d learned how to conduct a safe childbirth. Even been allowed to close up the last c-section patient. But you didn’t fucking learn how the baby got in there. 

Alright well, you did. But you hadn’t been told about some of the especially sensitive parts of the body that would be involved in the process. 

You tossed your bag on your couch, got yourself some cookies that you traded for last week and climbed up the stairs to your bedroom. It wasn’t a nutritious dinner, but it filled your tummy. It came in handy when you didn’t want to spend time chopping vegetables and boiling pasta or whatever the hell you had to do to cook. 

Your bedroom had become your prison in the last two weeks. You felt trapped, unable to see beyond it. How could you, when it ironically was right here that you found freedom? 

Even as you did something as mundane as eating cookies on bed and spilled crumbs on your sheets like a child, the chair in front of your dressing table was in sight. From where you sat, you could see very clearly the scratch on the black paint that revealed the light wood underneath. Evidence of how you had to hold on to dear life as Joel worked your pussy expertly. Like he knew it as well as he knew the tools of his trade. Like weaving his fingers between your folds was as familiar to him as it was for you to weave through skin with your suture needle and thread.

You felt yourself dripping at the mere memory of his thick fingers pumping away inside you, unraveling the fibers of your being. The sight of him at the bar– his finger tracing the rim of the glass– it took you to the memory of that very finger teasing your pussy.

The pornographic magazines, the entertainment for men, no longer saw the light of day from their box under your bed. Pictures of nude women you wanted to model yourself after in order to be attractive to men no longer sufficed. All you strived for now was to be attractive to him. To be strung like a puppet in his hands while all he seemed to want was to get away from any place where you were. 

You felt a pang in your chest as you recalled the first time you went to the house of worship after your time with Joel to find that he’d been replaced with the younger Miller. Tears stung in your eyes as you felt rejected by his absence. Like he no longer wanted to be in the same room as you, hammer nails into wood as you spoke to your fellow townspeople about their wellbeing. You told yourself it was just a temporary thing. That the brothers just liked to alternate shifts and he would return soon to fix the windows that shattered during a storm in the winter. 

He never came. 

You’d never experienced such rejection before. You’d never wanted before. To want was to risk rejection, to feel the pit in your stomach as you felt now. You never wanted to feel less than, undesirable, unwanted. So you pulled away from all the men you dated. If you could even call that dating. Maybe it was your own fault for thinking it would be easier with Joel. What did you think? That he would fold immediately because you showed off your legs and touched his arm and pushed your breasts out to present your femininity? 

Naive, stupid girl. 

“Been experiencing longer than you’ve been alive, Ma’am.” 

Something twisted in your belly and you lied down, pulling your covers over you as though it would contain the shame coursing through you. 

You probably looked silly to him, like a little girl playing adult. Like a kitten picking a fight with a lion. Less than half his age, just a fucking preschooler on outbreak day when he would’ve been a fully grown man. Maybe already beginning to gray, the skin by his eyes crinkled from the years he spent smiling at and wooing women. Why would he want a girl? He’d want a real woman. Someone like Tommy’s wife, perhaps. Someone he wouldn’t have to teach.

“Don’t know your own fucking body but you want a man?” his taunt rang cold in your ear, sending chills down your spine like he was still behind you, fingers buried deep inside the most intimate part of you. You pressed your thighs together, heat pooling between them as it always happened when you thought of what he did to you. 

Shame didn’t deter you as you brought your fingers to your pussy, brushing one against your clit with curiosity. With fear. It felt so good, like its sole purpose went beyond the animal need to survive and propagate. You bypassed it to touch your weeping slit, more comfortable with what you were already used to for carnal pleasure.

Your own fingers had always been enough. Out in the wilderness when you needed to release pent up energy. After long days at the clinic and sharing notes with the other students. When you were tired to the point where you couldn’t sleep. Your fingers always took you to where you needed. You were always satisfied.  

Not anymore. 

You whined as the different angles you tried failed to work. The physical pleasure was the same. But not quite like how it felt with him. His hand was larger, his fingers longer and thicker. He showed you sports inside you that you’d never been able to touch yourself. Maybe this was what people meant when they said ignorance was bliss. Knowledge of pleasure you could have but couldn’t give yourself was torture.

As much as you resented Joel now, you couldn’t help but conjure images of him as you brought yourself closer to release. His deep brown eyes, his large hand that he wrapped around your throat, the way he carried you from your chair and deposited you on your bed. Like a human being weighed nothing to him. Like you were his toy that he could bury his fingers in, play with and set aside when he was done, when he was bored. Entertainment for Men came to your mind again and you cried like you never had at your own touch. 

Your thighs trembled as you imagined yourself as one of those women in the magazines, but only for him. Entertainment for Joel. Splayed out on the center page for him to look at and fuck his hand to. You wouldn’t mind being tangible entertainment. Laid out on his bed, limbs arranged in an attractive manner for him, so he could access whatever part of your body he wanted to play with. To be bent to his will and fucked, to be used, given an affectionate pat on your pussy and put away when you’d outlasted his needs only to be given attention when he wanted to get off the next time. 

You shook uncontrollably, your eyes squeezed shut and the world went blank as you reached your peak. You pulled your spare pillow to your chest, needing some physical comfort after experiencing such a high. You wished it were him instead of an inanimate object. That he would make you feel good and hold you and kiss you all over. That he would stay when you woke up the next day and do it all over again. 

Once the haze of your orgasm cleared up, you cringed at the feelings it had brought out of you. How stupid… Wanting a man who broke in, fucked you with his fingers, and began ignoring you like you did something horrible to him. Fuck Joel Miller and fucking his stupid fucking face. As he said, there were other men in the town. Men who wouldn’t ignore you.

⌘

“How are the windows lookin’?” 

“Fixed ‘em up in time for the cold winds. No thanks to you, fuckin’ asshole.” 

“Sorry. Y’know I ain’t the church going type.” It wasn’t a lie. He wasn’t the church kind before Sarah died and he certainly wasn’t anymore. That the young aspiring doctor he fingered in her bedroom was the real reason behind him swapping work would remain his secret.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy grumbled, playing with the now cold fries on his plate. “It ain’t a church, by the way. Maria keeps correctin’ me. It’s the house of worship.” 

Joel rolled his eyes at that. He got the reasoning behind it. The town had people who believed in different Gods and had different religions. Calling the place a Church would be as unfair as calling it a– whatever, he didn’t know any other kind of place for worship. But it still pissed him off when his little brother came to him and went on about something his wife said.

Go off and do whatever your wife tells you, motherfucker.

No matter how he tried, the snide voice in his head that hated Maria never went away. He never said anything to her or Tommy. Maria was decent to him too, unlike the time he first arrived with Ellie. She trusted him with Miles. Invited him and Ellie over to family dinners. But they kept their interactions to a minimum, as though there’d been a silent agreement that it was best they kept it civil so as to not sow discord in the family. 

“Whatever. No point in worshiping, be it Jesus or whatever stuff they got goin’ these days.”

A shudder went down his spine, triggered by the talk of religion. As it became colder, Ellie had begun to revert to the empty shell of a child she was after the events in Colorado. There’d been grifters in the past hiding behind religion to cheat people out of their money, to damage children irreparably while preaching the word of God. The end of the fucking world somehow didn’t stop them from going on. Didn’t stop people from believing that an all-knowing, all-powerful guy in the sky was still watching and would protect them. 

If what protected people was God, guns were God. And Molotov cocktails. Sharp rocks and shoelaces.

Ellie didn’t tell him much, but from what he could piece together, it was a religious group with one guy leading them. And they were fuckin’ cannibals. Sounded like a goddamn cult.

“It’s a nice place to meet people,” said Tommy, snapping him out of his descent into the void of the recent past. 

Joel simply snorted and took a sip of his glass of water. He couldn’t handle his alcohol like he used to. Age and that he had been off his usual cocktail of oxy and whiskey for a long time now. He had to resort to having a lot of water to sober himself up after the occasional evening drinks with Tommy. 

“What? It is! I go there, catch up with everyone in town. Usually people go there when they’re going through some shit. It makes them feel conscious if you visit their house. So I just run into ‘em at the Chu– house of worship– and I just talk to them about their lives ‘n see if there’s anything I can do for them.” 

“Guess you’re right,” he said, slotting his thumbnail in the ridges on the bar counter absentmindedly, scraping off bits of the old softening wood. 

He could go again. Only so many days he could ignore you. But the reminder of the shame coursing through his veins when he saw you this evening made him shake the thoughts off. There was no way he could be anywhere you were without shriveling up and dying of embarrassment. 

You were so young.

Relatively unblemished by the world. A fuckin’ virgin. Never known the touch of a man and moaning his name as you touched yourself. 

Nope, nope, nope. Shouldn't have gone there, he thought as he felt himself hardening in his pants. Shouldn’t his dick be non-functional by now? He was dangerously close to sixty and spent a good two decades without adequate nutrition. Shouldn’t that be enough to turn his dick limp forever?

“Come over tomorrow, then. We’re doin’ a little memorial thing in the back of the house of worship. That young doctor’s idea, actually. She put the idea forward at the last council meeting. Thinks it’ll help people to have something physical to remember their people by.” 

Young, sweet, and so fucking thoughtful. 

Not meant for men like him.

Yet he went the next day. 

The topic of Sarah hung in the air around him and Tommy like a fog beyond which they couldn’t see. It sat heavy in his chest, the memory of his baby and worse, everything his shit brain had forgotten. He remembered that she gave him shit, mocked him over everything. But she didn’t have a voice in his head anymore. He could describe the sweetness of her voice, but it no longer sounded out in his mind. No matter how hard he tried. 

Her favorite color was purple and she loved soccer. He couldn’t recall the name of her team. She loved reading. He didn’t remember her favorite author. She liked animated movies. He couldn’t remember a single one. Just the vague memory of her falling asleep on his lap as cartoon characters chirped away on tv. Even her face was beginning to blur. When he recalled her features, it was only through images of the last seconds of her life.

“We could just do alphabetical order. Simple.” 

“Not really,” you said, scribbling lines on the paper. “We get new people in the town sometimes and we don’t want the names they add to stand out, away from the alphabetically ordered list. Might make them feel bad.”

“Yeah, you’re right. What about age?” Tommy suggested. 

“Still the same problem. It would force newcomers to have their own separate list at the bottom.” 

“How about a first come first serve system? We tell people when we’re taking names down for the memorial and they can come over, form a queue and give us the names they want included. That way, people can keep the names of the people they love in one spot on the memorial instead of having it scattered all over because of age or alphabetical order.” 

“What do you think, Joel?” Tommy asked, making him fold his arms over his chest and sigh. He didn’t give a shit. But that wasn’t the most amicale thing to say when someone was trying to do an objectively good deed. Unlike the other people in this town, he didn’t deserve to add the names of his people to a memorial. He failed in protecting them. He didn’t deserve to mourn like he wasn’t the reason they went into early graves. 

“Yeah, ‘s good. I agree.” He said, finding no faults with your proposal to order the names of the deceased by the order in which people gave it to ‘em. He didn’t know why he was being asked all this. It wasn’t like he was on the council like them. He was just takin’ measurements when he got dragged into this. 

“How many names do you think we’ll get?” Tommy asked him in yet another attempt to get him involved. 

Taking pity on his brother, he began a rough estimate of the number of names they’d get for the memorial and how much surface area they’d need for carving them in. “Six hundred people in town. Babies don’t have names to give. Kids wouldn’t have too many and if they had any, it would be on their parents’ list too. How many kids in this town?”

It was a fucking nightmare, sitting there at the table with you and doing calculations when all he wanted was to throw you over his shoulder and take you back to his place. Make you pose like you were posing in front of your mirror that day. Like women in those porno magazines he sneaked into his teenage bedroom and jerked off to. The fuck were you even thinking? Door left open, tits out, fingers in your cunt and his fucking name on your lips. 

Did you notice him at your door and decided it would be a fun trick to play on an old man? Or did you always scream his name when you fucked yourself? When was the first time? Did you always come so prettily on your own fingers like you came on his? Being in the dark drove him crazy. But part of him felt that getting the answers would drive him absolutely fucking insane. 

The thought alone was enough to make him feel uncomfortable in his pants. He adjusted himself on his seat and looked away from you, afraid that somehow you’d be able to tell that he was having improper thoughts about you when you were talking about honoring the dead. If thinking about you sexually in a church was bad, he was sure it was worse to think it when you were trying to help people memorialize their dead.

You had an air of innocence about you. The brightness of your eyes and the way you moved your hands about as you planned the details of this memorial and scribbled them out on your little notebook. He’d been attracted to that innocence from the very start. A rare thing to find out in the world. When even babies were born into violence and oppression, innocence was a luxury no one even thought to acquire. 

A virgin, too. 

His cock twitched in his pants. He gulped and looked around to check if anyone had caught his shameless response. Nope. 

He was surprised you were a virgin. For all your innocence, you were also fucking beautiful. There were plenty of guys in town. Ladies too, if you liked that. Anyone would’ve snatched you up quick and made sure to show you a world of pleasure. It didn’t take him long knowing you to give in to temptation. It was fucking impossible that no man had worshipped with his head between your thighs. That no man who saw you in your pretty little dresses bent you over and filled you up with his cock.

You were beautiful. Even more so when you came on his fingers. Made all those pretty little sounds. The way you said his name… Nobody had said it like that in such a long time. Not even Tess. 

It rang in his head whenever he found himself alone at home. Being in possession of your panties didn’t help matters. White cotton. Innocent. Covered in your dried up release. When he left that day, he made sure to suck on his fingers. Moaned like a fucking creep while going down your stairs. Eyes closed, he could still taste you on his tongue. After so many days. A little tangy with a hint of salt from your sweat and all woman. 

It had been embarrassingly long since he felt like a man. He’d been father, brother, smuggler, and father again. But long since he was just man. Never someone desirable. Out there, sex was just for release. Purely biological. The end of the fucking world did not afford good hygiene. You fucked someone because they were the safest option. Not because you were attracted to them.

You, however… You had others in this town. You were here before him. Younger, smarter, with a body that worked perfectly fucking well. You could have anyone but it was his name you were moaning out in the privacy of your room. 

He grunted as your voice crept back into his mind. The ‘Joel, please’, and the ‘Sir’. 

He grabbed on to the railing as his thighs trembled, afraid he would have an embarrassing fall. His breaths grew quicker and his mind void of everything but you. 

On your knees. On your back. On your front so he could fuck you from behind. Your hand around his cock. Your lips stretched out around him as you struggled with his size. Fistful of your hair as you begged for release. Please, Sir. Please, Joel.  The heat of your tight velvety cunt. Tears blurring your wide eyed innocence as he stretched out your rear hole. He wanted to take you everywhere, leave you burning with him. Mark you so deep every man you let in after you would know who fucked you first.

It didn't take long. The mental images of you were far too effective. His last time was too long ago. He was too old to last. Too old to want you. Somehow the reminder only pushed him further along. Sticky white cum coated your panties, mixing your scent with his. The mirror showed him a reflection of himself. Old, gray, crow’s feet by his eyes. He dropped your panties in the hamper, the warmth of his own release on his hand and the shame on his face sobering him up quickly. 

He wanted to teach you sin. But you had taught him more of it already than you would ever know.

⌘

“Cool jacket, dude!” 

“Uh…thanks. I traded for it years ago” you said, digging your thumb nail between the teeth of the zipper. It didn’t fit perfectly, but it worked well on cold nights that weren’t cold enough to warrant a sweater. “Is Joel in? I need to talk to him about a building project.”

“Yeah,” said Ellie before pressing her lips into a thin line. “I mean, he was awake half an hour ago when I left, but he could be in dreamland by now. Cause he’s old.” 

“Ah. Of course,” you said, smiling awkwardly at the girl. Joel’s kind of, sort of daughter. You were closer to her than Joel in age. You rolled the memorial plan tighter and tighter, your hands needing to be occupied with something as your mind reeled at the inappropriateness of your desires.

“I’ll make sure I don’t wake him up,” you said before leaving the girl to return to her group of friends. 

He was old enough to be your father. It should disgust you, scare you. Maybe it would’ve if you’d had an actual father in your life. A point of reference to know how vile a man of that age would have to be to want a girl your age. You tried to force some disgust into your veins, hoping that would help in putting out the fire in you that threatened to consume you whole. But it was hard to convince yourself that this was wrong when he’d made you feel so good. 

Your fingers had become inadequate overnight. If his fingers were so powerful over you… You shuddered to think what he could do for you with his penis. It had to feel better. The organ was made for it, unlike fingers.

You stopped outside his door and knocked without giving it a single thought. If you’d thought about it, you would’ve fled. It had already taken you hours to muster up the courage to make the walk to his house with the draft sketches for the memorial. You wouldn’t let your desperation ruin it. 

He looked surprised to see you, mouth opening and closing as though he’d forgotten how to process language. His dark brown curls and the silver that decorated it sat messily atop his head. Like he’d run his fingers through it. An old t-shirt stretched over his chest and struggled against his arms. A pair of dark sweatpants sat on his hips, the drawstrings hanging in the front. 

“Hey? Uh…what’s wrong?” he asked, bringing a hand up to his face and scratching his beard. Why was that hot? You had to be out of your fucking mind.

You cleared your throat and looked up into his eyes. “Does something have to be wrong?”

“You’ve never come here, so I thought…” 

“I’m here about the memorial plans. I have a few designs I want to run by you,” you said, holding up the rolled up sheets of paper.

“Ah. That. Sure, uh come in,” he said, opening the door and stepping aside to allow you passage. You looked around his house, careful to seem disinterested so he didn’t have more reasons to think you were a stupid little girl pining after him just because he made you come once. 

Shit. He probably already thought that. 

“A virgin. Pretty young things like you ain’t for men like me.”

You swallowed at the reminder as he led you to the dining table and offered you a seat. You looked around while he cleared the table. Plates, tools, some worn out novels. So he was the messy sort. You didn’t know who you would be if you’d had the chance to just be. You didn’t know if you would leave things lying around like that if you’d had a normal start to life. Like Joel. Like the others who were old enough to remember life before the cordyceps.

The place didn’t scream Joel Miller. There were no personal artifacts decorating his living room. No framed art. No books. No throw pillows or even a blanket on the couch. 

You knew what it was like to have nothing in your house. When you were still new to the town and it hadn’t hit you yet that you were allowed to have your own things. Collect stuff and not worry about having too many things to carry with you when you had to run. You didn’t own anything you couldn’t fit into your backpack. And you took that backpack everywhere when you managed to step outside your new house. 

But over time, you’d decorated your house. People you helped out at the clinic often gave you things as a token of their gratitude. Kids drew pictures for you. A lady once gave you the art off her wall that the previous owner had put up. Tommy and Maria gave you a new sweater that she’d knit when she was pregnant. New yarn from new wool from the town’s sheep. The first time you ever got something truly new. 

“No decorations, huh?” 

“What?”

“You don’t have any decorations here,” you pointed out again and licked your lips nervously.

“Uh, yeah. Not really the priority. Have’ta trade wisely. Can’t be gettin’ pictures when ya need bread.” 

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “But you don't have to trade for it, you know? You could put up something of what’s in the house already. Surely the previous owners left some stuff.” 

“They did. Traded ‘em all for things we need. Fresh fruits, bullets, that kinda shit.” 

“Well, it doesn’t have to be framed art. You could cut up a nice picture from a magazine or something.” 

Joel looked up from the plans, head tilted and an eyebrow raised. Shit! Of course he thought you were talking about your magazines with the naked women. 

“I didn’t mean it like that!” you said, your voice coming out squeaky. Embarrassed, you cleared your throat and looked down at the plans. 

“Let’s discuss the plans,” he said, his voice all gruff and his tone so stern. 

“I-I- uh… May I use your restroom?” you asked, unable to look him in the eye after what you’d said. After how he’d reacted. You really didn’t mean it like that. But you could see why that would be hard to believe when the last time he saw you, you had a box full of those men’s entertainment magazines on your bed and one open in front of you as you touched yourself. 

Touched yourself and moaned his name. 

“Upstairs, second door to the left.” 

You squeaked out a thanks before you bolted out of his dining room and made your way up the stairs. There were two bathrooms. One decorated with band posters and a poster of a girl with weirdly cut black hair sitting on a motorcycle. Had to be Ellie’s. The second door to the left was another bathroom. Joel’s, apparently. There was just one bar of soap, a toothbrush, and a pot of toothpaste. No shampoo bar. You pulled the toilet seat and lid down before taking a seat. 

You let out a groan and planted your face in your hands. Why the hell did you have to go and make it awkward like it wasn’t already that way. After he made you come that day, he’d refused to be anywhere near you. You hoped it was just coincidence, but after over a week it became undeniable that he was avoiding you. 

He probably thought you were going to catch feelings. A girl in one of the romance novels you read fell in love with a guy who took her virginity. And there was the time you overheard this guy talking about not wanting to sleep with a girl because she was a virgin. He was afraid she would catch feelings and get clingy. 

Now here you were in his bathroom because you thought it was wise to make small talk and ended up insinuating he should put up dirty pictures on his wall. You could scream. But you wouldn’t. There was already enough awkwardness with him. 

You could always jump out of the window and run off to your house. Never speak of this again. Pretend nothing happened if Joel tried to talk to you about it. But something told you that he wouldn’t. He would probably be happy if he never had to interact with you again. You had been acting desperate. He caught you touching yourself moaning his name, for fuck’s sake! 

Your hands, permanently dry from all the times you scrubbed them clean for your patients, found some moisture from your salty tears. It was embarrassing, sitting in the bathroom of a guy who wanted nothing to do with you after you scared him off with your stupid little infatuation. 

You were a grown woman. Still young, but too old to be acting like this. You should have some experience already. Not sniffling over a man more than twice your age. He was right. He had been a grown man with experience longer than you’d been alive. Of course he wanted nothing to do with you. 

The window looked more and more attractive as the seconds passed. It had been a while since you did something like that. You didn’t need to jump out of buildings or trees anymore. You didn’t go on patrols like some residents. With no need to fight for your life and having all the food you could need to never go hungry even once, you’d become a little unfit. If you broke a bone jumping out of Joel’s bathroom window, there would be questions. And everyone would know. You’d have to avoid the whole town instead of just Joel. 

You’d just have to face it. Even if facing it was doing as little as just bidding him goodbye and bolting out of his house without an explanation. You got off his toilet and pressed the flush just so he didn’t think you were weird. Like it fucking mattered. He already found you weird and desperate. 

You washed your hands, letting the water wash away the tears on your hands before wiping your wet hands over your face in an attempt to remove traces of your crying. 

You should’ve just left after that. Not looked around. Not snooped like a creep. You didn’t ever dig. You didn’t have to look too deep to catch it. But a sliver of white peeked out through the netted walls of the laundry hamper. A sliver of white cotton with a light blue stitch. 

Without second thought, you dug into his dirty laundry. You came up with the white cotton fabric, going straight to the gusset where the blue thread stitched the fabric pieces together. The original stitch had given out and you sewed it back together just some time back. The blue thread was all that you had at the time. 

As though the sight of your panties in Joel’s bathroom wasn’t jarring enough, next came the smell. Of you. Your cum. You felt practically hear your own heartbeats as you recalled how he’d cleaned you up with your own panties. You recalled that he stuffed the fabric in his pocket as you lied on your bed, pussy still pulsating from his handiwork, brain melted, and life changed forever. 

You took another whiff of your panties, goosebumps raising the hairs on your body as you felt it. Your cum and something else. It was still damp.

Blood rushed back up to your face and you felt yourself getting tense. 

This fucker. How dare he? You’d been embarrassed just a minute ago over your desires and he was doing this the whole time? Noticing you on the streets and running away for days. Running back to his home where he kept your fucking panties, apparently. Avoiding you for so long only to cum in your panties. 

So he wanted you. 

If not you, he at least wanted sex. Dirrty old man who liked attention from you, but you weren’t even disgusted. Just angry he was pretending to be better than that. He could’ve used any old rag, but he used your panties. 

You brought your defiled panties back up and smelled them again. Strangely, it smelled something like bleach. Or you could be wrong. You’d never… You didn’t know what a man’s release was supposed to smell like. Was it different for each man or did they all smell the same? 

Wetness pooled in your panties as you imagined him touching himself. Large rough hand wrapped around himself. Did he think of you when he did it? Think of you naked in your bedroom and taking his fingers? What did his penis look like? What would it feel like? Soft? Rough? You’d wondered about having one inside you, but never about a particular man’s anatomy. But this was Joel. Joel was the only one who’d gotten this far in your head. 

He couldn’t deny it to you anymore. If nothing else, you could at least call him out for ignoring you when he was wiping his ejaculate off with your stolen panties.

“Joel!” you called out before your fears could talk you out of confronting him. Unsure if he would’ve heard you, you opened the bathroom door and yelled his name out again. “Joel!” 

“What?” 

“Come up here!” 

“What happened?” 

“Just come here.” 

You heard him sigh, the sound followed by the typical grunts and groans he made when standing up. Fuckin’ old man, ruining your life. Ruining your self-confidence. Ruining your fucking panties. His heavy footsteps thudded against the stairs as he climbed up, the sound getting louder as he got closer to the bathroom. 

“Why were you screaming my name like y–” he stopped mid scold, frozen in place by the door as he saw what you had in your hand. He opened and closed his mouth, as though attempting to explain but deciding otherwise. He licked his lips and scratched the back of his neck, his eyes looking everywhere but at you. 

“Do you not have rags, Joel?” you taunted, taking a step towards him and enjoying seeing him step back. You felt powerful, moving a large man with just your voice. It was very unlike how he made you feel all the days he ignored you. Weak, insignificant, undesirable.

“You weren’t meant to– Fuck, I’m sorry!” 

“Which part are you apologizing for? For breaking into my house and touching me? For ignoring me ever since? For stealing my underwear? Or for doing whatever you did with it?”

You moved him out of the bathroom, making him walk backwards in the hallway you hoped led to his bedroom. Even if it didn’t, you’d be fine. You’d exact revenge in any place you can. As long as you got to make him feel the way he made you feel. Pleasure. Shame. Want. 

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I never should’ve—”

You took your last step towards him, finally trapping him against a wall. You stood close enough to place your hand on his chest. You licked your lips, the rock hard muscles beneath your touch storing itself away in your mind for later use. 

“Imagine what would happen if I told someone? You sister-in-law, perhaps… She hates you, doesn’t she?” You smirked, though you were screaming on the inside. You didn’t know where you got all this courage from. You didn’t know you had it in you to threaten a man as imposing as Joel. 

He turned pale, his hands up against the wall in surrender. If you’d asked him, he wouldn’t tell you the truth that it was to keep himself from touching you. “Please don’t tell anyone. I won’t do this again, I swear.” 

“Maybe I want you to do this again…” 

“You don’t. Trust me.” 

“Shh!” You said, placing your index finger on his lips. Pink, perfectly shaped, and so damn kissable. “Don’t tell me what I want. You ignored me ever since you walked into my house without my permission and shoved your fingers inside me. I was walking around town believing I wasn’t good enough for big old Joel Miller. What did you say? That you’ve been experiencing longer than I’ve been alive?” 

You raised an eyebrow at him when he didn’t answer. Then he nodded reluctantly.

“Why were you coming in my panties then if I didn't measure up? ” 

“I won’t do it ag—” he groaned when you grabbed his cock through his pants. He let out a low grunt and his Adam’s Apple bobbed in his neck as he swallowed. You replaced your index finger with your thumb, tracing his trembling lips as you lazily stroked his cock with your other thumb. 

He filled your whole hand and there was still more. It took everything in you to not moan at the sheer size of him. To not grind your belly against it to feel it against you. You didn’t know how big it was supposed to be, but the romance novels you read always described the big ones as more desirable. 

“I don’t want to hear excuses. I asked why. Why did you steal my panties, Joel Miller?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Did you come on it? Don’t fucking lie to me cause I can fucking smell you on it.” 

“I did. I jerked off with it.” You had to choke back a moan at that. No, you had to be strong. Show him you could take the upper hand just like he did with you. You weren’t a little girl with a crush. You were a woman and you could have this effect on a grown man. You refused to be discounted with a pat on your pussy no matter how much you wanted him to touch you like that again. 

“Mmm. And that’s enough to get you going. Just a pair of my panties.” 

“Mhmm.” 

“Show me how you did it.” 

“What?” He asked, eyebrow raised. 

“Show. Me. How you did it.” 

He narrowed his eyes at you, his hand coming up to stroke the base of his neck. “Wh-What?”

You felt your heart thud against your ribs and if you didn’t know from experience and your textbooks, you’d have been afraid that he could hear it. You’d never done anything so daring. You were the timid girl when it came to this stuff. That the thought even occurred to you was a testament to how much you desired Joel. Not just to sleep with any guy, but to have Joel. Without a word, you reached under the skirt of your dress and tugged your panties down. 

He inhaled sharply as you bent down and came back up with your panties. Undyed white fabric, a little green ribbon in the shape of a bow stitched to the front, gusset a light gray from your wetness. 

“Show me. I want to see what you were doing in your bathroom with my panties after ignoring me everyday,” you said, taking his hand and forcing the fabric into it. His hand curled around it and you found yourself feeling lighter. You didn't know how long you could keep up the brave front if he continued to have no response. 

“Take your clothes off.” 

It was like something changed the moment you gave him the garment. His eyes were on you, his gaze unrelenting. He took a step ahead and you stepped backward. His lips curled up in a smirk. It seemed playtime was over… Like a lion letting the cubs play at predation before taking over to show how hunting was really done. 

You didn’t know if you were ready for that… Sure it was nothing he’d never seen before, but it was different. The last time, you didn’t do it with the intention to have him see you. He just happened to see you bare and you didn’t cover up when you realized. 

“I don’t have a box full of dirty magazines. I need to see somethin’,” he said, his eyes going down your frame like they had every right to be there. “Or you could leave these,” he said, holding your panties up in front of your eyes, “and run back home. What d’ya say?”

You swallowed, your hands shaking as you reached behind to find the zipper of your dress. You weren’t going to run off. Not when you’d been desperate for so long to do something, anything with him. Cold air kissed your back as you pulled the zipper down and the hairs on your body stood up in full attention. You pushed the sleeves off your shoulder and shimmied out of the dress, standing in just your dress in front of him. 

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. He looked you up and down. He tilted his head as he looked you up and down. He radiated superiority, putting you in some kind of a daze. “Your bra too. Show me your tits.” 

The crudeness had more wetness pooling between your legs. You nodded wordlessly, afraid that pathetic whimpers would be the only sound you’d make under his gaze. You reached behind and felt around for the clasp of your bra. With his eyes piercing into you, you failed to find it quickly like you usually did. Your mouth dried up, your tongue sticking to the roof. 

He made no effort to help. A mocking smile assumed its place on his lips as he watched you struggle in front of him. 

When you finally managed your task and stood fully naked, he stood up straight. His tongue darted out and licked his lips. You felt like a piece of meat placed in front of a starving man. Just seconds ago, you were telling yourself you didn’t need his approval, that this would just be revenge. But as he evaluated your body, your pussy wept with the need for your body to be nothing but what he liked.

“Room’s that way.” He nodded in the direction of the room. You turned around and took small steps, your shoulders curling inward and your head bowed in submission. Every inch of your skin burned with the strength of his gaze. 

“Kneel.” 

You placed your knee on his bed, ready to climb up. 

“On the floor.” 

One knee still on his white sheets, you turned around to look at him. He was so large. Imposing. The kind of figure you would follow without question. So, you did. 

“You look pretty on your knees.” 

He took a few steps towards you, stopping when the distance had your neck straightening to look up at him. Large, powerful, imposing. Another step and you were face-to-face with his crotch. His bulge was right there. 

“Go on, take it out. Since you wanted it so bad.” 

Joel didn’t think you would do it. You looked even smaller kneeling at his feet. Meek little thing. He didn’t at all expect you to taunt him the way you did. Especially after you threatened to tell on him to Maria. He fully expected you to start crying. Guess he really underestimated you. Virgin didn’t necessarily mean innocent. 

Yet you folded as soon as he took the reins. He saw the change in you right when he told you to take your clothes off. When your eyes went from determined to defeated. All that spunk evaporated to reveal the little girl underneath. He liked it like that. Made him feel like a real man. Not that there was any scarcity of masculinity in his life of taking out clickers and defending this town. But somethin’ about a beautiful woman accepting his authority did the trick faster than every other display of masculinity. 

Your hands fiddled with his belt, trembling as you tried to take it off. He stopped you with a hand on your wrist. “Just undo the zip.” 

No way he was going to get naked in front of a pretty little twenty something. It wasn’t anything great to look at even before he began a life of violence and traversing the wilderness. Sure he was well built from all the hard physical labor and constant fight for survival. It’d left several unappealing scars on his person. Time had done a number on him too. Especially his pudgy belly. It didn’t help that food flowed free in Jackson, fattening him up a little. 

Thankfully, you listened. You looked up, as though you expected him to complete the task for him. He challenged you with a look. Wanna be a big girl so bad, act like one.

You reached inside his pants and took his cock out. Your lips parted and he heard you inhale through your mouth. His cock hung in front of him, hard from your teasing. He had to give it to you, you were daring for a meek little thing. No one in town would believe him if he told them all that you’d done. And he suspected he didn’t even know the half of it.

“Not too late to back out, you know?” he said, wrapping his hand around himself. It took everything in him to give you an out. As much as he wanted to grab your face, force your mouth open and make you gag around him, he was man enough to let you know you didn’t have to do anything. Young girl probably bit more than you could swallow. And seeing his cock and your mouth so close by showed that he was definitely nothing you could swallow.

“I’m not backing out.” 

“First time seeing one?” 

“Of course not. I work at the clinic. You think I haven’t seen a penis?” 

“No anatomical terms. I ain’t your patient. Go on, touch my cock.” 

You reached up for him, but he stepped back, delighting himself in the disappointment on your face. “Come on, you want a man so bad, work for it.” 

You moved to stand up. “Did I say you could stand up?” 

“No.” 

“Then get back on your fucking knees.” 

You dropped to your knees and he groaned in satisfaction. The euphoria of wielding power over someone rushed through his veins. And he wanted more. It was the same sick satisfaction he got when he beat men to death. When he broke bones and dressed animals he hunted in the wild. “Good girl. You’re going to listen to what I say. Got it?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Fuck! That fucking word again.

“Come on, come get it. Hands and knees. Crawl to me.” 

He beckoned you forward with one hand, his other still on his cock. You bent over and god fucking damnit, you were a vision. You were an eager girl and he could see what you could become in the right hands. His hands. The things he could show you… Introduce you to your own body. Bring you pain and pleasure that were indistinguishable.

Your tits hung from your chest, swaying as you crawled towards him. Feverish, bright eyes followed him as he continued to refuse what you wanted. Too fucking late. He warned you. Told you men like him weren’t for pretty little things like you. But you didn’t fucking want to listen. Now you’d have to deal with the consequences. Maybe you’d stay away then. 

“Please, Sir,” you whined so prettily he almost gave in. 

“What are you begging for?” 

“You. Y-your penis.” 

“My cock,” he corrected. “Say it.”

“Your cock, Sir.” 

“Good girl. C’mere,” he said, giving you a nod to come closer. You crawled to him and when he didn’t back away, sat up on your knees. He placed his hand on the back of your neck and gripped your hair, making you hiss. Holding you in place, he brought his cock to your face. You looked up at it, your eyes widening and your mouth slackening. You brought your hand up and touched his tip with just your thumb. The rest of your hand followed, wrapping around him. He gasped silently as you stroked his slit with your thumb, making him leak precum on you. 

“Did…? Did you?” 

“No. Gotta do more ‘n that to make me come. That’s precum.” 

“Oh.” 

He didn’t think you knew what precum was. Probably not the focus of your education here. Not the most important thing when townsfolk came in injured after patrols or suffering from a fever that was life threatening without the medicines of the past. 

He pressed his cock against your cheek. The sight presented a visual of how you’d struggle if you took him in your mouth. He’d have you choking on him before you even took half. He twitched against your face at the mere thought. You were the picture of innocence, even with his cock on your face. Even with the stunt you pulled before he put you back in your place. 

“Think I’ll just do this. Fuck your pretty face.” 

You whimpered, spurring him on. He wanted to force himself inside you, punish your mouth for having the gall to speak to him the way you did. Make you cry from how full of him you were. Give you a sore throat so when you spoke to him again, you’d remember to speak with respect. But you wouldn’t be able to handle it. So he’d settle for defiling your sweet features, hold his cock against your cheek and rut like the animal he was.

“I ain’t gonna lay you out on my bed and take you nice and slow. I’m just gonna use you. ‘s what men like me do.”

He pulled away, giving you another opportunity to rethink this. “You can put your fucking clothes on and leave if you don’t like it.” 

To his surprise, you stayed put on your knees. You shook your head before reaching up and rubbing your cheek against his cock. You let out a soft moan, eyes closed and your thighs pressed together tight. “No, no. I like it.” 

“Fuckin’ slut,” he said, his hand back in your hair. He tugged at it and took his cock in his other hand. He tapped your lips with his tip, smearing the precum that leaked out of him. “You like an older man using your face like it’s a pussy?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

He snorted, amused. “Never met a virgin slut before. Getting your face fucked before your pussy. Bet you’re wet from this.” 

There was the sweet little whimper from you again. He wanted to hear more of it. Trap you underneath him and make you weep and cry and whimper as he split you in half.

“Let me see. Touch your pussy, show me your slick.” 

You obeyed, spread your knees and touched yourself. Your hand glistened under the light of his bedroom, your wetness stretching between your fingers in strings. “Goddamn, would you look at that…” he said in a low rumble. “Rub it on my cock.” 

Your hand trembled slightly and you stared at him with a blank look in your eyes. He guided your hand to his cock, withdrawing his hand when he’d brought you close enough so you could decide whether you wanted to follow his command. You touched your slickened hand to his cock, covering him in the evidence that you wanted this. Wanted him. You reached between your legs and brought more of yourself, eyes soft yet glazed with lust as you smeared yourself all over his length. 

“Ask me for it.” 

“Please,” you whined. 

“Please, what?” 

“P-please fuck my face. Sir.” 

He returned his cock to your cheek, your wetness lubricating your face. Hand cradling his cock, he began to thrust. It wasnt much different from fucking his own fist. It was just skin. Not the tight velvety wetness of a pussy or a throat that would gag with his thickness. But your face was softer than his gun callused hands. Even better was your pretty face, looking up at him so adoringly… So full of desire. 

He didn’t have to let his imagination do the trick now. Not when you were right in front of him, lending yourself for his use. And no imagination, no memory did justice to you. Your body. Scarred, but beautiful. Tits that filled his large hands, clean and styled hair, a belly that showed you were well fed. He wanted to lay you out on his bed and consume you. Take your tits in his mouth, grab handfuls of your ass, spread your cunt lips and lodge himself inside you. Give it to you hard so your thigh jiggled and you felt them ache as they rubbed against each other when you walked around in your pretty little dresses. 

But as depraved as he was, he knew he shouldn’t be the first to take you. He’d have you just this once. Store your image in his head to get off with for as long as his dick worked. You acted all brave, but he couldn’t shake off that you were still inexperienced. The first time was meant to be good. The world was no longer normal, but you could have normality within the insular walls of Jackson. 

Even this was wrong. Using you like this instead of making sweet love to you. But he hadn’t been that man in a long time. He was selfish and cruel. If there was no town, no community where everyone knew everyone and you still threw yourself at him, he would’ve taken you in all your holes with no hesitation. Ruined you, kept you until your body wasn’t of use and tossed you aside. But being in this semi-normal place had gotten its claws into him. Softened him up.

He grew closer to the edge embarrassingly quickly, the haze of carnal pleasure beginning to muffle the voices screaming in his head to let you go. He only barely noticed that you were touching yourself. Enjoying this treatment of you. That spurred him on. There was no stopping now. 

You let out soft moans, your eyes never once leaving him. He struggled to get himself to focus. To check for any signs you didn’t want this. But all he saw was you on the precipice of pleasure. The world disappeared. His house, Jackson, the darkness that lay beyond. It was all him now. He felt lighter, like he would float out through the window and everything he’d ever been through would disappear. Every ounce of goodness quietened down, the last shreds of his morality discarded with your dress. He grunted and moaned your name as he kept fucking you. Your features morphed into nothingness. No longer a face, no longer a human woman. All he knew was the ache in his body, the tightness that begged to be released. 

He slapped a hand against the wall as his thighs stiffened and every muscle in the vicinity of his cock tightened. He took himself back in his hand and stroked himself over your face. Once, twice, and thr– mid stroke, he growled and spilled on your face, coating your innocent features in sticky white cum. You flinched as the first stream hit, screwing your eyes shut. He wanted to make you look, see how he could defile you, show you that he wasn’t for you. Force you to confront what you’d allowed into your life so you’d run and never look back. 

But all he could do was keep stroking as he came down from his high. It was unlike anything he’d had in the recent past. Not his imagination, not just his hand. A real human woman who wasn’t just a convenience. One who sought him out, stripped for him, and let him use her face like a toy. 

He took a minute to collect his breath and let his senses return to him. His cock hung semi-hard outta his jeans, like it could go again if he willed it. Like it wasn’t almost six decades old. But he wasn’t too surprised. He could go again for the utterly debauched girl in front of him. Innocence eclipsed by milky white ropes of his cum. Without thinking twice, he grabbed your hair and pulled at it. You yelped, but let him pull you up from the ground and drag you to the other side of the room. 

He stopped you in front of his mirror, and slapped your hand off your pussy before replacing it with his. “Look at yourself. I fucking told you,” he said, forcing two thick fingers inside your cunt. You sucked him in with little resistance, your cunt leaking enough for him to force a third finger inside you. You gasped and tried to wriggle away, but he wasn’t having it. He was a fucking monster, but he would never leave a woman unsatisfied. Especially a young thing who’d never had anyone else before. 

He wrapped his free hand around your throat, his half hard cock begging him to go again when he felt the vibrations of your moans. “I warned you,” he whispered into your ear. “Fuckin’ warned you. Told you how starved I was. And you still taunted me. Look at you now!” 

“Please… Please, Joel! Sir, please…” 

“Fuckin’ slut. Maybe you ain’t really a virgin.” 

“I am, I am, I promise. I wa–” you cut yourself off with a gasp as he pressed his thumb on your clit. 

“What was that?” 

You made some incoherent noises, too far gone to form words. Yet you managed to thrust onto his fingers and roll your hips like a real natural. 

“Joel…” 

“I know, pretty girl… I know,” he cooed, the softness in his voice contradicting how he’d used you just minutes prior. Contradicting the cum on your pretty little face. 

“You gonna come for me? Give me another one after you came so sweetly on my fingers that day?” 

There were no answers from you. Not even an acknowledgement that you heard him. Just whines and moans as you let him support your entire weight. Your head lolled back on his shoulder and your eyes rolled back into your skull as he fucked you stupid with just his fingers. Oh the things he could do with his cock… Reach deeper, take the virginity you’d held on to for so long. If he ever had you, he would never let go. He was too selfish a man to willingly lose a girl so precious after taking her cunt. 

You gripped him like a vice, so tight he couldn't pry his fingers out. Something that vaguely sounded like his name spilled from your lips as you crumpled in his arms. Your pussy pulsated around you as he held you against him, unwilling to remove himself from you so quickly. 

He withdrew your panties from his pocket– the fresh pair you took off in his fucking hallways like it was no big deal. He wiped your face with it the same way he cleaned up your cunt that day. Instead of tucking it in his pocket, he forced it into your hand. 

“Put it on. Your fucking dress, too. Hope you learned you fucking lesson.”

As you put it on and scampered away naked into his hallways, he hoped it would be enough to scare you away. But he knew in his heart of hearts that he would always crave you like an addict craving a drink.

⌘

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