#I mean. I'm gonna be out of work for two weeks but like
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You Owe Me - Part 1
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader
Summary: Forced through circumstances out of your control to rely on Joel Miller, you end up traversing the country with him. You're not particularly enthralled with him, and neither is he with you - or so you think, until your period strikes, and you're practically bed-ridden. Or: Joel can't stop jerking off to you after he accidentally got a taste of your lips.
Warnings/tags: canon typical show/game violence, sort of dubious consent (reader gets kissed without being asked and only later agrees), age gap (reader is about ~25 years younger), enemies to lovers kind of, awful period + period cramps, jerking off, fluff
Word count: ~7.4k
Periods are not fun to begin with.
They're even less fun in a post-apocalyptic world, where sanitary products are hard to come by and more of a luxurious rarity than a given staple item in your average survivor's backpack.
You knew you were bound to begin your cycle eventually, and had you had more time, you'd probably have prepared yourself some way or the other. But, with the way things had gone in the past two weeks, you had not had any time to think about bodily functions beyond what your every day efforts demanded of you, and even that was hard to care for.
Ever since the night that you fled Boston's QZ, you hadn't had a proper night's rest, let alone a hearty meal to replenish your energy with. Your escape had been 'spontaneous' to say the least, a necessity brought upon by circumstances that you'd stumbled into rather than purposefully involved yourself in, and before you knew it, you were pointing your finger at Joel Miller, of all people in the world, hissing threats through gritted teeth about how he at least owed you this much if he was going to get you involved in his business without your consent and how you weren't gonna get hanged just because he'd dragged you into his bullshit.
Joel, of course, was not a man you could just point your finger at and demand things of, much less in a hissed tone, even less in the form of threats.
And yet, he'd smuggled you out of the city in a cloak-and-dagger-operation that same night, despite his hard glares and hushed warnings to keep your mouth shut. You'd been anything but prepared when he'd appeared at your side like a magician out of thin air. He'd laid his arm around your neck like a lover might on an evening stroll, but the gesture hadn't been kind, his arm too tight around your throat, pressing on your airway as he'd instructed you - commanded you - to follow him, like you'd have had any other choice with his arm wrapped around your neck like a boa constrictor, all the while a smile on his face that feigned nonchalance to possible onlookers. Nothing to see here, just two lovebirds on their way home after another long, hard day of work.
You'd shaken him off once the two of you were out of sight, ripped his arm off of your throat as you swiveled out of his headlock. "What the fuck, Joel," you'd hissed and he'd stared back at you with that same cold and hard look you knew him by. "Do you want out of the city or not?" His arms were crossed in front of his chest, his tone matching the iciness of his eyes. Your jaw tensed. The nerves of this guy. "The hell are you talking about?"
He scoffed like you were being dense. "Out. Flee the nest. Hit the damn road-" You cut him off with another pointed finger. "Don't be cute. I know what you mean. What I'm asking is, now?!" He eyed your finger like he was debating cutting it off if you jabbed it into his face one more time. His jaw ticked. "Yes, sweetheart, now." Your nostrils flared at the sarcastic tone of the nickname, but he gave you no time to interject. "Got tipped off. They're gonna do a raid tonight, hit everyone they know I'm involved with. Since you got all flustered about my - 'involvement' of yours-" "Oh, is that what you call that? Grabbing and kissing me out of the blue?" "-I figured I'd do you a solid by giving you a heads up," he talked over you, ignoring your comment entirely. You were seething. "Ever heard of a thing called 'consent', Joel?" He flicked his tongue, rolled his eyes. Clearly, he had no time to entertain your attitude. You didn't care. "It's when you ask someone if they wanna do something, and then only do it if they say yes. Now I know that concept might be a little hard to grasp for you-" You were slowly advancing on him, getting up all in his face, when his hand closed around your arm tightly. Your gaze fell down to his grip, your lower jaw pushing out slightly. His eyes flicked over your face like he was waiting for your next outburst. "Are you quite done? Cause we gotta go. Unless you'd like to stay and be questioned by FEDRA officers? I'm sure they'd be very interested in your lecture about consent." Joel's upper lip curled back in an ugly sarcastic smile.
And so you'd let him lead you through the city, begrudgingly at first and then bewildered when you realized you were heading in the opposite direction of your apartment. "What about my stuff?" He'd only shaken his head. "No time for that. We gotta go now. Got some backpacks waiting for us a couple blocks ahead."
He only realized you'd stopped walking when he was at least ten steps ahead. "You comin' or what?" You could tell by the tone in his voice that he was nearing the end of his patience, but as far as you were concerned, you were already at the end of yours. You didn't budge, just stared him down from where you stood, shooting icy daggers out of your eyes and your pursed lips quivering as insults swarmed in your head, all fighting to be let out at once. He looked back at you with dull disinterest in his eyes. "By all means, take your time. Ain't like we're on a clock here or somethin'."
"Oh, you son-of-a-bitch, you ignorant little cock-sucker, you absolute blithering idiot-" The stream of affronts sputtered out of you. Joel quickly closed the distance between the two of you and forcefully grabbed you by the arm, dragging you with him once more. "Walk and talk, yeah?," he said over your flood of offences, the jabs seemingly rolling off of him like water droplets against plastic. You kept up your clamor all the way down the next block, until he dragged you into yet another side-alley to avoid a group of FEDRA soldiers marching past.
The two of you stood closer together than both you and him would have liked. If it hadn't been for the parade of soldiers walking past you, you might've scratched his eyes out, something you made sure to convey with your eyes as you stared him down in silence. His indifference only fueled your rage. "Do you have any idea what you're asking of me?" You hissed at him when most of the parade had passed by. Joel wondered if he'd ever hear your normal tone-of-voice. "Come again?" He cocked his head. "The way I recall it, you asked me to get you out of the city, not the other way around. Now who's imposin' on who?"
He saw it coming before it was looming in his face again. That damn finger of yours, pointed right at his nose once more. His lips pursed, his hand twitched on the handle of the blade he kept concealed on his waist. Just one quick swipe. Your howls would likely attract the guards. Not worth it. Yet.
"We're only in this predicament because you couldn't keep your damn hands off of me!" You almost spat in his face, your voice all hoarse from trying to keep your shout down to a whisper. Your head looked like it was about to implode. Joel flicked his tongue again.
"You wanna discuss bygones again or you wanna get goin'? Time's not waitin' on us, sweetheart."
"Oufff." You growled in response, your finger so close to his face you'd take out an eye if he moved an inch in the wrong direction. "Get that thing out of my face," he finally snapped and smacked your hand down. "Now quit whinin'. You wanted out of the city, you're gettin' out of the city. Giddy up. Time's a' wastin'."
Without another look to check if you were following, he dipped out of the alleyway and marched down in the direction of his - your - first pit stop. You stood between the tight walls for another moment, breathing heavily. If FEDRA hadn't been breathing down your neck, you would've turned around on your heels and sent Joel off to whatever miserable adventure he was about to embark on, but alas, he'd made his miserable adventure yours against your will. You cursed under your breath, then hurried after him.
"All I'm saying is, what about my shit? You think I don't have any sentimentals at home? Necessities? Stuff I wanted to bring when I left?" You whispered to him as you kept up with his pace beside him. It could've been your imagination, but the people out on the street looked more hurried than usual. Something was definitely in the air. Joel's tip-off likely had been right. Something was brewing.
"You win some, you lose some," came his sullen reply, paired with a shrug. You had to stuff your comeback back down your throat as the two of you filed into the crowd of people heading home, hurried steps and hard, concerned faces all around you.
Escaping hadn't been easy. Every single guard had been on high-alert. It seemed that the tip-off must've come out - the number of guards had been tripled, and you and Joel had a hard time going by undetected, despite the added benefit of nighttime and the rain that had picked up, muffling your steps as you hurried from dark corner to dark corner.
The Firefly attack took him as much by surprise as it did you and the soldiers. The booming sound of an explosion just a few hundred feet ahead made you flinch and Joel instinctively pulled you down with him. Rubble rained down on the two of you, crashing into the muddied floor just inches besides you. You gasped and flinched away, losing your halt on all fours, but a strong arm caught you around the middle before you could slump to the ground. "Let's go," Joel urged in your ear and dragged you up to your feet in one swift motion.
Shouts erupted around you from all sides, then got droned out as FEDRA's sirens kicked up. You scrambled after Joel as he evaded spotlights that swiveled across the floor from all directions, keeping the two of you safely tucked away in the few shadows that remained. Smoke burned in your nose and lungs as you sprinted from safe haven to safe haven. Loud cracks cut through the uproar of your surroundings, accompanied by deep thudding sounds as more rubble fell to the floor. The fire from the explosion site was now spreading out, slowly licking at buildings in its path. Many of the decrepit structures quickly crumbled away under the heat, porous and unstable to begin with.
It was disorienting, frightening. For the first time in over a week, you were glad for Joel Miller. If it hadn't been for him, you wouldn't have made it out of the chaos alive.
Granted, if it hadn't been for him, you wouldn't have been in this mess in the first place, but he kept his word and got you out.
You'd never meant to stay with him, but as things would have it, you weren't presented with much of a choice in that either. You made it out of the city just fine, save for a few jump scares along the road, but then ran into a hoard of infected that had been attracted by the ruckus of the explosion, just a few miles outside of the quarantine zone.
How you made it through that encounter alive, you didn't know, you just knew that Joel was a more-than-worthy asset in that debacle, as much as you hated to admit it. As if that hadn't been enough, you barely had one peaceful night before a group of raiders pulled through the section of outskirts where you and Joel had holed up for the night. It was an 'out of the frying pan and into the fire' kind of turn of events that kept you and Joel running and fighting for your lives for almost two weeks straight, stumbling from one disaster into the next, until finally, finally, you seemed to leave your losing streak behind.
It had now been three whole days since the two of you had found yourselves in mortal danger last, and though it felt almost wrong to be hopeful for a peaceful stretch of days, you couldn't help but be just that.
Until, of course, you felt that familiar sharp pull in your abdomen.
Crap.
"You didn't happen to pack anything female-related when you packed this, did you?," you asked as you rifled through the contents of your backpack. Well, Joel's backpack really, since it was the one he'd bestowed upon you the night of your escape. Your own backpack was still back in Boston, probably picked apart by FEDRA by now, along with all of your other belongings.
"Like what?" Joel was poking at the fire he'd set out to build. The flames wouldn't quite take, a few feeble blue streaks dancing between the twigs he'd collected.
"Like, I don't know, a pad, maybe? Tampons, if I'm allowed to dream?" You had almost emptied out the entire backpack now, and even though the contents you were bringing to light were certainly useful, none of them were what you were looking for.
Joel looked up, a kind of perplexed look on his face. You took in his facial expression and sighed. "I'll take that as a no. Crap." You slumped down on your butt in defeat. "That's gonna be a problem."
Joel scratched behind his ear, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "Yeah. Sorry, kiddo. Wasn't on my radar when I was packing." It could've been the dim light of the barely lit fire playing a trick on your eyes, but you could've sworn that some color rose in his cheeks. You just sighed once more and shrugged. "Eh, can't blame ya. Not something I'd expect to be on the mind of a..." You looked at him, eyebrow raised. "...something year old man."
He snorted. Sparks flew up from the twigs as he kept poking around. "Fifty-six," he said after a little while. "If you must know."
"Huh."
"What." He eyed you over the now growing flames. It looked like he was ready for you to pounce on him.
"Nothing." You raised your arms in defense. "Just... wouldn't have thought so. I just mean," you quickly added when you saw the expression on his face, "you've held up better than I would've thought. Jeez, relax. I'm not coming for your age."
"Right. Cause you ain't been jabbin' at me for just about anythin' else. S'cuse me if I'm just prepared."
"Cause you been jabbin' at me for just about anything else," you mocked under your breath. "And I got a right to. Need I remind you, I wouldn't be in this mess if-"
"-I hadn't dragged you into it." He interrupted you with a groan. "Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first trillion times. You ever gonna let it go?"
You scowled at him over the flames. "No." He quirked an eyebrow at you, and the exhausted apprehension on his face made you crack up. "Fine. Maybe. The jury's still out on that."
A day later, the sharp pull in your abdomen had grown into full-sized cramps, one of the four horsemen of your period riding in in full stride. You tried to ignore it as best as you could, but your period pains had always been on the worse side, sometimes leaving you crumpled into a ball on the floor. Your cramps could be debilitating, and a gnawing pit of worry formed in your stomach as the day went along.
Back in the QZ, you had your ways of coping: hot water bottles or hot potatoes wrapped in tinfoil tucked into a sweater so that their warmth radiated throughout your belly. There was even a bottle of emergency ibuprofen tucked away in a little secret corner of your bedroom. You longed for it now as the cramps begin to grow in intensity and longevity. You'd certainly planned to bring them along for your escape, but alas...
A groan escaped your lips as another cramp pulled on you from the inside. Your steps faltered and you leaned over for a moment with a hand pressed to your lower belly.
"Hey. You good?" Joel had been a few steps ahead of you, but he'd turned around at your groan. You'd been a trooper for the last two weeks, making him think more than once that getting you out hadn't been such a bad bet after all. You fought like hell, and when you weren't busy being mad at him, you followed orders quite well, especially when yours (or his) life depended on it.
Of course, he'd never say that out loud. You were still routinely giving him an earful about how he'd made you leave everything you owned behind, how you'd have had more time to properly prepare if he hadn't just dragged you into his mess, if he hadn't just kissed you that night-
You never missed a chance to remind him of all his wrongdoings, bickering on and on and on about the predicament you now found yourself in. As if he hadn't been the one to get you out. Sure, yeah, he did owe you as much after... having dragged you into his mess (his jaw clenched at the thought), but he'd paid his dues in full, as far as he was concerned. Hell, not only had he gotten you out in one piece, he'd even packed a whole get-away bag for you, survival essentials included. Had you thanked him for it? Certainly not. You hadn't complained about it either though, that was for sure, and Joel was certain that was about as much of a thanks as he was going to get from you.
You straightened, a somber and tight expression on your face as you nodded, but Joel could tell you were in more pain that you were letting on. Two weeks of fighting like crazy and just minutes of sleep to go on for days, and he hadn't heard a peep outta you. He had to give it to ya - you were tough, a fighter through and through. When you complained, it had nothing to do with where you slept, what you ate, who you fought. You just did it. He appreciated that quality in you. It made you a decent travel companion - if it wasn't for your bickering about everything else. That, he'd had decidedly enough of.
Today, though, you had been unusually quiet. You had yet to point an accusing finger at him, and though he could do without another finger pointed at his face for the rest of his life, he couldn't help but notice the change in your demeanor. Your pace was slower than the weeks before, even though you were now eating and sleeping better than you'd had in all previous fourteen days combined. Your movements seemed sluggish, almost lethargic, and you were hanging behind more often than not. This wasn't the first time you'd stopped either.
"We can rest for a moment, if you want." Joel gestured towards some trees on the side of the road. "Sit a moment in the shade. Catch our breath."
You looked like you were about to throw a snarky remark his way, but then you just nodded and trotted over to the patchy area of shade.
He sat down beside you with a groan, then stretched his aching legs out on the ground. Even if you thought he'd held up just fine, his legs certainly disagreed. If anything, they felt older than fifty-six. More like bordering on sixty.
Joel took a sip of his water, then nudged you with his elbow. You looked at him through hooded lids, exhaustion written all over your face. "Drink. Gotta stay hydrated."
Another wordless nod from you. No snarky comment. You got your own bottle out and gulped down a few sips.
"You sure you're good?" He eyed you carefully. There was a light sheen of sweat above your upper lip, some more pearls glistening on your forehead.
"I said as much, didn't I?"
Ah. There it was. Joel nodded. "There we go. Thought you were dyin' on me or somethin'."
You shot him a quizzical look.
"You haven't talked back to me all day. Was startin' to get worried," he shrugged with half a smile on his lips.
Your eyes narrowed at him. Joel Miller? Worried about you? Yeah, right. "What, you sweet on me or something, Miller?" A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Uh-huh. Glad to see you still got your wits about ya. C'mon." He got to his feet and dusted the dirt off his pants. "If you can jab, you can walk. Let's go."
You knew you had a couple of hours, maybe less, until hell's gates would open and the floods would come raining down your legs. Literally.
At least your periods were dependable that way, always following the same pattern.
Evening was fast approaching, and so was a town in the distance, just down the hill that you and Joel had just reached the top of. He raised a hand to his eyes, shielding his view from the evening sun that hung low on the horizon.
"Best bet is to go around it," he assessed, one hand on his hip. "No way to tell what's waitin' down there. Easier if we don't find out."
"Yeah, umh, about that."
He turned to you, a golden glow around the outline of his head. He looked like an angel. You blinked, cleared your throat.
"I need to find some cloth. Preferably clean, but anything will do, really. I know there's a spare shirt in my backpack, but I really don't want to cut it up..."
Joel frowned at you, visibly not understanding what you were getting at.
"Pads, Joel. I need to make pads. I'm about to start bleeding like a slit throat. I'm talkin' Niagara Falls."
He blinked, scratched behind his ear. "...right. Yeah. Okay."
It irked him that he hadn't thought of anything for your period. Granted, he hadn't had to deal with the topic in a long time, no woman in his life sticking around long enough (he made sure of that) that the topic could even come up. Still, he was a man who prided himself on being prepared, and he felt anything but as he helped you rummage through open and broken drawers to look for anything that might be useful.
You were tensing up more frequently now, pausing in whatever you were doing with shut eyes and a tight expression on your face. He knew what that meant, even if it had been a long time. You were cramping, and by the looks of it, quite hard.
Joel was irritated to find that he felt sorry for you. Though, no, that wasn't what irritated him. He may have been gruff and closed off on the outside, but he was still human after all, capable of empathy. What irritated him was the need he felt to alleviate your pain. More than once, he felt the urge to reach out and stroke your face, or worse even, to pull you into his arms into a comforting hug. Once, when your back was turned to him, he even saw his arm lifting on its own accord, and he had to bring it back down with his other hand before it made contact with you.
What the hell are you thinkin', he scolded himself. This ain't no more than a cargo run. She's cargo. Quit daydreamin'.
He scolded himself and then moved on, once, twice, thrice, until he had to tell himself off for the fourth time and he was beginning to get seriously pissed with himself. What was it with you that he kept thinkin' about touchin' you?
You were oblivious to his ordeal, having your own problems to deal with. You'd found some cloth that looked (and smelled) clean enough to be used as makeshift pads. Your hands made quick work of the fabric as you tore the old shirt into strips, then braided them into wider pieces until they roughly matched the length of the strip of fabric that connected the front of your panties to the back. Once that was done, you wrapped the braided piece fully around the bottom of a fresh pair of underwear, tying off the excess fabric when you had done so. It wasn't pretty, it was knobby and bound to be uncomfortable, but it was better than just wrapping pieces around the middle and hoping for the best. This way, you had a couple of layers underneath you, and if you didn't shuffle too much, the makeshift pad would perhaps stay in place. You sighed, inspecting your finished work. Behind you, Joel whistled. He sauntered over to inspect your work.
"Don't look too bad. You think this'll do?"
You eyed your handful of makeshift pads, a sorrowful look on your face. "It'll have to. But knowing my flow, I'll go through these in just a day - two, if I'm lucky..." Another wave of cramps tightened in your lower belly. You winced and leaned forward, one arm across your abdomen. A warm hand appeared on your shoulder.
"Tell you what. This town don't seem too dangerous. How 'bout we try and find a place here for tonight? Hm? Sleep in a real bed for a change?"
Joel didn't need to ask twice. You seemed more than relieved that your journey today would go no further than a couple of houses down the street, which was where you found a suitable candidate to spend the night in.
It had probably been a beautiful townhouse once, back in the day, complete with a white picket fence and a front- and backyard to show for. Now, though, the garden was overgrown, the fence was hanging in pieces, paint littering off its remaining poles, and the house itself looked sad and empty, as if it was mourning the loss of its previous inhabitants.
Unlike the rest of the houses on the street though, this building seemed to have all its walls intact. That, and the fact that your steps were getting slower by the minute, was enough for Joel to declare this house as your designated sleeping spot for the night.
The two of you did a quick sweep of each room, making sure everything was safe and sound. It was strange how quickly a routine could settle between two people who'd been nothing but strangers just barely three weeks ago. It wasn't the first time this thought occurred to you either: yours and Joel's movements seemed to almost flow into one another as you cleared the house from bottom to top. It felt a little like you could anticipate his next move before he announced it, and vice versa. He'd even said as much to you after the first week of the two of you fighting for y'all's asses, talking about how maybe you weren't as much of a princess as he'd initially thought. You'd just rolled your eyes at the comment, but there had also been a feeling of pride settling in your chest that you'd been unable to ignore.
It came like you'd said it would. Not long after you had dropped yourself on one of the worn-out sofas in the living room, you felt a particularly harsh cramp cutting through your abdomen, before something warm trickled out of you. You groaned silently to yourself. So it had begun.
Joel watched you from the armchair next to the couch. He was using the last couple of hours of decent daylight to take stock of his backpack, checking it for tears and what not, taking inventory of his ammo and cleaning and sharpening his weapons. Besides the fact that it had to be done, it gave him something to do. Made him feel like he was doing something sensible, practical.
He didn't like to admit it to himself, but watching you writhe in pain on the couch beside him didn't sit right with him. Even though it had nothing to do with a lack of care on his side, he somehow, against all logic, felt responsible for how crappy you were feelin'. It didn't help either that kept tellin' himself off for it. Ain't none of yer business, he kept repeating in his head and re-focused on sharpening the blade in his hand, right before glancing back at you when you'd moan again in pain.
You were definitely going through it. Once the dam had broken, so to say, there was nothing you could do but lay on the couch and wallow in self-pity. By now, the cramps had settled into a steady churning pain that had settled in your abdomen like a straight line, going from one of your tubes to the other. Your lower back felt like something was trying to break through it from both sides, forming an immense pressure that spread up the rest of your back. As if that wasn't enough, your neck was tense, rock hard and unforgiving, uncomfortable in whatever position you brought yourself into. And then of course, there was the bleeding itself, and the occasional harsher cramp that pulled through your entire abdomen.
You were certainly going through it, and the last two weeks had been too demanding. When a cramp cursed through you, you didn't hold back your whimpers. You just didn't have it in you to care. Joel could think whatever he wanted - no uterus, no opinion, that was as far as your thinking went in regards to him as you laid on the couch and wallowed in pain.
You had to give it to him, though. He was being remarkably quiet about your whole ordeal. You'd expected some dry comments, something about pulling yourself together, woman, you're not dying, but so far, there had been none of that, not even a distasteful scoff at your moans. You did see him looking at you from time to time, and it must've been your hazy mind, but you could've sworn he looked almost sorry for you. Almost.
Hours passed, and your pain didn't let up, if anything, it only intensified. While darkness slowly settled over everything outside, you did anything but on the couch. You turned and tossed with every new wave of pain, trying with all your might to find at least one position that alleviated your pain, but nothing helped. You had just flipped yourself over on your stomach with a groan, burying your face in one of the cushions when Joel spoke up behind you.
"Alright, enough. C'mon."
There was a light tap on your leg, then a more determined nudge when you didn't move. "Hey, c'mon. Move."
You just groaned into your pillow. I ain't movin' nowhere, it meant, but then your legs were being picked up and slowly lowered, until your knees touched the ground. Begrudgingly, and with a very fed-up expression on your face, you lifted your head from the pillow to shoot icy daggers at Joel, who was now kneeling beside you.
"Don't gimme that look," he grumbled. "Just tryin' to help ya. C'mon." He motioned at the sofa cushion. "Put your head down, get comfortable. N' put your knees a bit more together, so I can fit behind you. There you go." He instructed you until you were kneeling in front of the couch how he wanted to, your head resting on your arms on the sofa cushion. Attagirl. He shimmied behind you with some difficulty, his old knees not cooperating with him as fast as they once did, but then he finally sat behind you in a position similar to yours.
"What'cha doin," he heard you murmur into the cushion and promptly shushed you. "Shh. You about to see. Now don't freak, but you about to feel my hands on you."
You had no idea what the hell he was getting up to, but you didn't have the strength to care. For all you cared, he could've taken you off the chessboard in this very moment, and you wouldn't have minded. Everything hurt too much. It was all you could focus on.
You felt Joel's large hands on your waist, then your shirt being lightly pulled up. "Hey! What-"
You did turn around at that, furrowed brows and all, only to be met with Joel's fed-up stare. "You trust me or not?"
It took a moment, but eventually you put your head back down, not without your lips drawing into a pout. Course, you trusted him by now. Even if you didn't like it very much.
Joel waited until your head was settled on the cushion again, then he brought up your top a bit, folding it over once so it'd stay up over your tailbone. It had been a while, since he'd done this - hell, a long, long while - but he couldn't sit by no more and watch you toss and turn in pain. He'd had about enough of that.
He laid his palms flat on your waist, letting you get acclimated to his touch first so you wouldn't turn around and bite his head off once more in a second. Then, when he felt like a good enough time had passed, he lightly lifted his thumbs and pressed them down on your lower back, your tailbone right in the middle of them. Carefully, he brought his thumbs upwards, drawing two straight lines into your skin while keeping his pressure firm.
Your response was almost immediate. Joel could see your tense shoulders going down just a smidge, your back relaxing as you let out an elongated 'oh' sound, accompanied by a deep sigh. "Attagirl," he murmured, one corner of his lips slightly quirking up. "Just relax into it. I got you." He kept repeating the motion, digging his thumbs into your lower back to bring you some relief. A picture of how he'd once done the same for Sarah's mother flit across his brain. He quickly shook his head, dismissing the memory as quickly as it had appeared.
It felt like heaven, how Joel was working his thumbs over your aching back. It did nothing to alleviate your pain in the front, but it still felt a million times better than tossing and turning on the worn out cushions of this dusty couch. Just like you hadn't held back with your moans of pain, you were now not holding back your moans of enjoyment. You'd never felt anything quite like it before. "Where'd you learn to do that?"
You heard Joel chuckle quietly behind you. "I know a thing or two, kiddo. Been around the block once or twice."
You just hummed in agreement, then let out a load moan once more as his fingers dug into a specifically delicate spot. "Fuck, Joel. Yeah. Right there."
Joel was just glad you had your head buried in the cushions of the sofa. Otherwise you would've seen what your moans were doing to him, and boy, were they doing a number on him. He'd been able to ignore your first few moans of pleasure, biting down hard on his tongue and closing his eyes to focus, but then his mind started projecting pictures onto his closed lids of you, below instead in front of him, making those same sweet sounds of pleasure while he touched you elsewhere -
His eyes flew open and he grunted, willing the pictures away with all his might. He tried staring at his hands instead, but that was a dumb idea, seeing as how he could see your delicate skin being worked underneath his thumbs then, his fingers drawing out another moan from your lips -
Next was the wall. He could've drilled holes into the flaky wallpaper, with how hard he was staring at it. He could feel the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment and he could only hope, pray that you wouldn't turn around anytime soon to see how your moans were visibly affecting him, specifically in his crotch area.
"Fuck, oh my god, right there, Joel." Your voice was breathy and needy, and Joel's eye twitched. The hell had he gotten himself into with this?!
He prodded your back, trying to find the spot you'd just referred to. "Right here, sweetheart?"
He saw your head bob as you nodded, a satisfied hum vibrating through you. "Mhh, yeah. That's - oof - that's the spot."
He was digging himself his own grave, that much was for certain right now. He knew he should've stopped, should've went back to his armchair and returned to working on his gun, but he couldn't. It was like he was transfixed, glued in position like a fly to a trap. The whimpers falling from your mouth were too good to pass up, to sweet to resist. He hadn't had anything sweet in such a long time. And Joel was dying for a treat.
But he also knew it wasn't right. He knew it now and he knew it then, those few weeks ago when he'd grabbed you outside of your apartment and had kissed you out of the blue. You'd been shocked to say the least. The FEDRA guards had been on his heels and he'd needed to find a way to disperse of them quickly, and there you were, conveniently placed in his path like a lucky find, and his brain had snapped and he'd just gone for it. Pulled you into a kiss like you were his, hands flying up to your face to hold you in place. Your eyes had grown wide in shock and he'd briefly pulled his lips from yours to whisper to you. Work with me, please, I'll make it worth your while. His heart had drummed in his chest, a million silent prayers tumbling from his lips in the milli-second that it took you to subtly nod. A brief grin had flit over his lips before he'd crashed them back down on yours, kissing you like he'd been waiting to do so all day. And my god, had you worked with him. Your own hands had flown up to his head, one curling around the base of his neck and the other digging into his hair. He'd backed you up against the wall behind you, slowly walking you backwards until your back collided with the weathered bricks, and you had actually moaned into his mouth, much like you were doing now. It had sent his head reeling, and though Joel was not a man of faith, he'd briefly thanked whatever God he had seemingly pleased enough to allow him this sweet of a distraction.
The guards had trampled around the corner then, their heavy footsteps a stark contrast to the sweet moans falling from your lips. They'd cleared their throat - ahem - and Joel had unwillingly detangled himself from you enough to cast a look at them over his shoulder. What? A man can't make out with his girl in the street? Their eyes had wandered from you to him, and he saw then what they were seeing: a man in his mid-fifties pressing a what, late twenties? Early thirties? woman to the wall, her face all flustered, hair disheveled from where Joel's hands had dug into it. He'd seen the envy plastered on their faces, heard the murmurs. Lucky bastard. A triumphant grin had played around his lips, even though he knew he was treading on thin fucking ice. That he was indeed, a lucky bastard.
His luck had only lasted so long, though. When the guards had disappeared, he all but saw lucky stars in his eyes when you invited him up to your apartment. Was he really going to get that lucky?
Heavens, no. He'd been brought down back to earth swiftly when you had stood in front of him, crossed arms and expectant look on your face. So? What was that? He shrugged nonchalantly. What was what?
You, though, as he quickly came to learn, were not to be underestimated. You made him tell you in detail why the guards had been after him, then practically foamed at the mouth when he reluctantly explained what he'd been up to that afternoon.
It hadn't even been that big of a deal, just a casual, run-of-the-mill drug run, but you didn't seem to share his sentiment. Casual? Run-of-the-mill? He'd had to shush you from how loud you were screeching. Didn't you know the damn walls had ears?
My god, you could talk. Bicker, was the more fitting term. Or nag, really. You went on and on about how he'd went and done it now, how he'd fucked up your life, all because he had to go and get you involved in something that you had absolutely no interest in -
That was the first time your finger had flown into his face, all accusing and threatening, like you could do him any harm with just the tip of your index finger. Boy, had he been tempted to smack it out of his face. But he didn't. As much as he hated to admit it - you had a point. By putting you on the map as his lover, he had likely put you in a lot more danger than you were even realizing at the moment.
He'd tried to put you out of his mind. Even after you had made him promise to get you out of the QZ as a 'reward' - You owe me, Joel Miller - he'd tried not to think about you, not until his next run out of the city at least, which is when he planned to make good on his promise. Until then, he wouldn't think about you. You'd just turn into another headache, another problem he'd have to deal with, and he had enough of those as it was. Not to mention that he was almost twice your senior. He didn't have many principles anymore, but he still had some. And hell if he didn't at least stick to those anymore.
He kept his resolve up for all but two hours, when he was back in his apartment, laying in his bed and unable to sleep. You kept drifting through his mind, bickering and foaming at the mouth and red in the face, telling him how he'd went and fucked up your life, but more than that how your lips had felt on his, how sweet your mouth had tasted, how delicious your moans had sounded in his ear -
Fuck it. Joel growled and shoved his hand into his boxers. He'd rub one out to you, just once. Surely that would get you off his mind.
Well, it did, sort of. Until he was in bed again the next night, and he found himself with his cock in his hand once more, thinking about your lips and how they'd felt on him, and how they'd feel wrapped around his cock instead of his own hand -
He groaned as his release painted over his stomach, white silken strands mixing with the soft curls on his belly as he silently cursed you, then himself. The hell had he gotten himself into?
So of course he'd had no choice but to come and get you when he got intel that he was the subject of the upcoming raid, that very night. He barely had time to prepare two backpacks with the bare necessities before he went out to find you.
How all of that had brought him here, kneeling behind you as the sweetest moans fell from your mouth once more - he didn't know. Joel couldn't tell whether you were a blessing or a curse, if you were the price he had to pay or the price he received. Seeing as how his life had gone though, it was unlikely that you were the latter.
And yet he couldn't help but feel like he'd won when he brought his thumbs down on on the sides of your lower spine and earned a low moan in return, long and elongated and putting all kinds of pictures into his mind that his head momentarily fell to his chest, a pained expression painted across it.
No, no. You were both. A blessing and a curse.
Series Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist
Credits: plant divider by @strangergraphics
A/N: Well, here we are. Like I said, the idea for this was born while needing comfort on my own period, and then this monstrosity flowed from my fingertips and eventually I realized that perhaps, 9.3k words were perhaps a bit too much for a oneshot, especially when said oneshot wasn't complete yet. Ahem. So! Here you have the first half of what is undoubtedly going to turn into a filthy, filthy second part. 🙃 I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did, I was kicking my feet giggling while writing this, lol.
No pressure taglist:
@peekyourinterest @vickie5446 @noisynightmarepoetry @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @picketniffler
@frogsdeservelovetoo @orcasoul @ashleyfilm @elli3williams @missladym1981
@spotty-boo90 @iamsherlocked-1998 @axshadows @justajoelsreader @oldmenenthusiast
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x female reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller imagine#joel miller fluff#joel miller smut#joel miller the last of us#joel miller tlou#joel tlou#tlou joel#tlou fic#tlou fanfic#tlou fanfiction#the last of us#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fanfic#enemies to lovers#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fic
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A potentially (even more) angsty prompt:
A couple month after the breakup (and Buck moping around), the 118 is called to a crashed Harbor helicopter.
Or alternatively, Buck is not on shift and Chim calls Buck that Tommy is in the hospital via a helicopter crash (the rest of the 118 rescued him). A la Chim's Henren matchmaking.
Whatever level of injury you wish for either is good!
(for the purposes of this ficlet, their breakup is NOT the 8x06 version, just one where Tommy is like "we're moving too fast, I need some time" and they agree to give it a pause, and it still sucks but they're not exes)
---
"So... Have you two patched up yet?" Eddie broaches the subject cautiously. It's a fifty-fifty chance that Buck will be willing to share or snap his head off.
"I asked him out for a drink," Buck says, eyes on his book (Slow Productivity, which seems kinda strange for a guy working as a firefighter). "He said he'll take a raincheck." He sounds emotionless, which means he's sort of upset but not overly so.
Which makes sense, since Tommy and Buck did have a Not-A-Date brunch to catch up two weeks ago. Eddie was there, too, desperate wishing he had an excuse not to be, so that the two yearning idiots would just get back together.
Eddie's about to say more when the alarm goes and Bobby hustles everyone onto their engines. Curiously, Bobby sits in the back, telling Hen to take his usual seat.
"What do we got, Cap?" Chimney asks, snapping his gum. It's a new habit - the man is stressed about a second child. The sirens scream to life and they're off.
Bobby puts a hand on Buck's shoulder. "Airlift gone wrong. A chopper went down while delivering a heart to First Presbyterian."
Eddie sees the younger man go still. Buck won't ask, so Eddie bites the bullet. "It's Tommy?"
Before he answers, Bobby tightens his grip on Buck. "It's Tommy."
--
The good news is that the chopper hadn't gained much altitude when it crashed. The better news is that its cargo, a heart ready for transplant, is still intact, so it's quickly rushed off to the hospital in an ambulance.
The bad news is, it was Tommy piloting.
The worst news is, he needs blood. A lot of blood. Hen and Chimney are packing the wounds and stabilizing what they can and Bobby is calling Dispatch to relay messages for a transfusion.
"Blood type, B-pos, no known allergies," Buck rattles off to Bobby and Hen, helping to lift Tommy, collared and strapped on a backboard, onto the gurney. His jaw is tight and his hands are steady. "His emergency contact is..."
He falters as Tommy is wheeled into the ambulance.
Eddie shoves him. "Get in there." When Buck turns to look at him, eyes wide, Eddie pushes him again. "Get in there. You're his emergency contact as far as we know, so go. Tommy won't survive your delay."
That spurs Buck into moving with alacrity. The ambulance pulls out, sirens screaming, and Eddie feels his heart pounding in his mouth.
Then he feels Bobby standing beside him. "They haven't patched up?"
"They're idiots," Eddie says with heartfelt vehemence.
Bobby sighs.
--
Eddie goes to the hospital three hours later, after the shift. Buck is still in his uniform, so Eddie passes him his duffel and shoos him off to change.
"What news?" Eddie asks when Buck joins him again.
"They've stopped the bleeding," Buck says, closing his eyes. "Now they need to work on the impalement."
Eddie sits next to his best friend. He doesn't speak.
"I'm done," Buck says suddenly, sounding like he's gargled gravel. "I'm done. When he wakes up, I'm gonna... I don't know what I'm gonna do, but I am not doing this stupid 'pause button' shit any longer."
Oh thank God. Eddie can stop feeling like he's a child caught between divorced parents.
Then, because he is and always has been a realist, he asks, "What if he doesn't wanna press the play button?"
Buck looks a little sick. He clenches his jaw and shakes his head. "Then we want different things out of this. And I'd rather it hurt all at once now than later." His eyes look shockingly blue against the paleness of his face.
Eddie pats his friend's knee, and leans back to grab some shut-eye.
--
Eddie takes on the bulk of Buck-sitting duties for the next four days, spelled by Bobby. (Buck takes time off. No one begrudges it.) Maddie manages to get Buck to go home to shower but she can't make him sleep in his own bed.
Convenient that Tommy crashed just before our off days, Eddie thinks, a little bitchily, the day he comes back after a shift.
Man broke Buck's heart. Eddie figures he's due a little bitchiness.
It takes five false alarms before Tommy is truly awake and alert enough to register Buck and Eddie are there.
The heart rate monitor beeps a little more urgently.
"I'm here, honey," Buck murmurs, taking Tommy's hand immediately and squeezing it. "Relax, okay? Docs and nurses gonna look at you for a bit first."
Tommy blinks, and on his horribly pale and scruffy face is a ghost of a relieved smile. He can't talk, but his mouth forms something that sounds suspiciously like "eh en", or "Evan", and Buck smiles so brightly that he probably powered the machines with its intensity.
Eddie feels the ground under his feet right itself as the doctor and nurses take over. Yeah, that pause button is going away. He sends a message to the group chat.
Hen replies, Bets on when they move in together. $5 min.
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Hello, I have a request. So I have these lyrics brain rotting me and I just know you, with amazing writer skills, will be able to bring it to life. So, from The Prophecy, "Don't want money, just someone who wants my company" and like reader being lonely for a long time before meeting katsuki. I see reader as a very important part of the society, like not a hero, but more as a spy that can also fight (the Hero version of a fantasy assassin) And she is paired with Katsuki for a mission and he sees her in her true colours. Maybe a series? It's up to you, or course, but thank you for writing and being so talented and considering this request <33 Hope you have a great day!!
lowkey this request broke me in all the right ways omg...i love the prophecy so so so much it's so heartbreaking and definitely one of my favorites off ttpd <3 ty for your ask and all the love, hope you like this :)) so sorry that it took so long to get to and ty for your patience, i haven't had much time to write lately
cw: explicit language, implied fem!reader but no she/her pronouns (reader does wear heels), angst/fluff with happy ending, angry forced coworkers to lovers, bkg being lowkey mean but he's just psychoanalyzing you
you liked the sparkle, to a certain extent.
it was nice to pad around in designer satin, your name embroidered in gold thread on the back tag. you could appreciate the crushed velvet sofas in the living room of your high-rise penthouse, the walls covered in abstract art gifted to you by painters whose names you don't remember. your closet was larger than your university dorm and lined with enough expensive fabrics to start a hospital. everything about your lifestyle screamed luxury, yet even a marble bathtub couldn't provide much comfort when you came home at two in the morning to a cold, lifeless apartment. tragic.
bound by contract, you weren't allowed to live with civilian roommates, and pro heroes looking for places to rent were as scarce as dust left behind by your cleaning crew. you figured it was better that way, not needing to explain to your roommate why you're gone for weeks at a time on assignments and coming back with several broken ribs and a staggering sum of money. instead of friends, you had your job, however dangerous it became sometimes. you were good at playing a character (it's why you had your current job in the first place) and made it look like you weren't lonely, but you'd be lying if there weren't times you were just begging the sky to send you...who? who do you even want? love was a foreign word, a privilege reserved for those not in your profession. so you withstand whatever life throws at you like a statue made to wait, constantly on the brink of crumbling.
it's mid-january when you receive the call informing you that you'd be working with a partner on your next assignment. you wrack your brain for the few people trustworthy enough to join you, only for the words to catch in your throat when your agent says they're assigning someone for you.
if you were bad at working with others, bakugo was unapologetically worse.
"could you walk any louder?" you hiss into his ear as you stroll through the lobby of the most luxurious hotel in the city. his bicep flexes under your fingers, something you can only perceive as him stiffening in annoyance. "your big-ass feet are gonna get us compromised before we even make it past the perimeter."
"i'm not trained for stealth, genius," he argues, adjusting his suit jacket with free arm for the fifth time in twelve seconds. "i usually go in, blast the shit out of people, and call it a day."
"well, your thundering steps are doing the opposite of helping us blend in," you reply bluntly with a pretty smile toward the concierge desk. "we're doing recon, not infil." you take an abrupt step to the right, simultaneously bumping bakugo in the hip and making him stumble. with the way you start to sway and lean into him, your perfume makes his brain go fuzzy and his ears pinker.
"what the fuck are you doing?"
"you are literally the funniest person i've ever met. i can't believe i fell in love with you, sweetie," you drawl, fluttering your eyelashes.
"what the hell is wrong with you?" he cringes away as you beam at him with a lovesick smile, one hand keeping him flush against your body while the other brushes the pant leg of a passing security guard.
"just play along, darling," you seethe through a fake smile. without taking your eyes off your partner's face, your prize finds itself between your fingers and you unbutton the keycard without blinking, bringing it to his chest and smoothly slipping it into bakugo's jacket pocket with the guard none the wiser. once you catch the guard round a corner behind you via the reflection of a gilded mirror, you drop your act and detach yourself from a very flushed bakugo. "yikes, you're worse at this than i thought you'd be," you deadpan.
"you-you just used me to get that guy's card," he sputters in pure disbelief while you continue to walk down the side hall in the direction of the bar and banquet room. "the hell is wrong with you?"
"i work alone, bakugo," you say boredly. your heels click against the glistening marble and you roll your eyes as his loud steps catch up to you.
"yeah, that much is obvious," he glowers. "we're supposed to be working together on this shit-"
"you are not my partner in this job. you are a tool." you have half the mind to think that your coldness was too harsh, but remember that working alone is what you're best at, for better or for worse. "look, i'll get the job done; you just sit there and watch so our agencies can get off our asses about this being done through 'official means.' got it?"
"you think you're good at being alone, but it's actually killing you," he states in a tone that barely echoes off the sparkling walls. "you think you're good at being alone, but what you think is the farthest thing from reality." if you weren't running four minutes behind schedule, you'd whirl on him and slap his pretty face. you settle for stamping his foot with your heel and he lets you, an ungratifying fuck you all you get as a reward.
"i should have told my agent that i'd quit if she made me work with someone else," you snap with your arms crossed as he fishes out the keycard from his jacket pocket. he gives you a look that enrages you further, something between loathing and sympathy.
"take my arm, for fuck's sake. let's get this over with so i don't have to deal with you and your self pity ever again," he snarls and, for the first time, he catches you off guard. you obey without a word, eyeing him warily while he swipes the keycard and guides you into the crime boss' exclusive campaign gala.
"you know nothing about me, so don't try to analyze me since i know it's not your strong suit," you mutter under the sound of blaring jazz trumpets, sidling past investor after investor as they chatter excitedly about the your target's recently announced run for mayor. "i've seen the leaks about you heroes' IQ scores."
"yeah, they were faked by some extra in the todoroki agency that wanted to undermine him. wanted to imply that he was a nepo baby or some shit like that," bakugo replies without missing a beat and you're barely able to detect any malice in his answer. it confuses you. shouldn't he be pissed that you just insulted his intelligence? "icy-hot's one of the smartest guys i've met, so don't you fucking dare discredit him for one second." he's angry that you insulted...a different hero?
"that doesn't change the fact that you don't know shit about what i do," you dodge, spotting your target at a table near the banner-flanked main stage. he's surrounded by a dozen women who fawn on him like moths to a fire, caressing whatever body part they can get their hands on. it's exactly the scenario you need to bypass his defenses. "there, 3 o'clock. he's got his harem with him."
"so what's your play, lone wolf?"
"dance me toward him and then get out of my way," you order, dragging him onto the dance floor while the jazz band in the corner eases into a mellower tune. "what, got two left feet?"
"no, i'm just trying to figure out why you are the way you are," he questions, slipping one arm around your waist while his hand intertwines with yours.
"don't go hurting that handsome head of yours," you reply coldly without thinking, suddenly feeling your ears go hot when he smirks. "what?"
"nothing. 's just funny when you actually act human rather than the killing machine you were made to be," he admits and your jaw clenches.
"again, you know absolutely nothing about me." you subtly try to move your dancing bodies toward the crime boss' table, but meet bakugo's eyes with a glare when he actively spins you in the opposite direction. "we should be going that way, idiot."
"what if i wanna keep dancing with you, idiot," he retorts. "now," he takes a deep inhale, "i'm gonna tell you exactly what i think you are so maybe your next partner doesn't have to dig into your ass and get your head out of it."
"you are putting this whole operation in jeopardy--"
"don't care, especially if i'm being told by a self-pitying, pathetic excuse for a public servant who hides themselves away because they're too scared to make human connections," he rants, looking you directly in the eyes so you could see just how molten they were.
"stop," you warn, looking for any excuse to go in on your target so you could get out of the spotlight that bakugo was putting on you. he doesn't let you, though, effortlessly dipping you in a way that outsiders could consider flirtatious. it's an unfamiliar sensation, your spine curved under his steady hands, but all you can register is the intensity of his expression inches away from yours.
"you hide behind your callousness and say you don't need anyone fucking else because you've never had anyone else. and then, one day, when someone comes along who actually wants to know you for you, you're gonna be too much of a little bitch to realize that there are people who care about you. even if you are the most irritating being to call themselves human." he abruptly stands you both up and steps back, both of you burning and withstanding each other's wrath. your voice is smaller than you want it to be when you finally manage to speak.
"how would you know any of that?"
"because i was that." his attention flicks to behind you, toward the boss' table. "now would be your best chance. i'll sit at the bar and you finish the job, alone."
"...alone?"
"that's what you want, isn't it?"
no. i don't want it.
you don't catch him in time, some shackle like pride chaining you to the floor. it doesn't feel like relief, you realize when he turns to leave and disappears into the crowd. it feels like a punishment, an unbreakable curse that you'd put on yourself. you were a fool in a fable and it was sinking in, even as you worm the information you need out of your target and slip out of a back window, alone.
always alone.
---
it's not until ten months after your initial mission with bakugo that you finally work up the courage to tell off your agent.
"you have no place to be making such demands!" you lean away unbothered while your agent screams, her anger distorted by your phone speaker. "you have no idea how to--"
"don't care. i'm done working alone in the shadows," you interrupt with the callousness that once benefited you in your job. now, you realize, it was only impeding you and making it harder to find people who saw you as a human, not a tool. "put me in the infil mission or i'm quitting. for good."
"you don't know anything about infil. they'll eat you for breakfast if you join the op now," she hisses. "you need me."
"you made me think i needed you. you and the sparkle, and the fancy pajamas, and the smelly bath salts. you made me think that, to keep all the nice shit, i needed to be alone. but now i know i don't need to be."
"how would you know anything--"
"i know that you've purposefully delayed the infil operation so that you can cover up your ties to the boss' campaign, and that you sent me in with bakugo that night thinking i'd take the fall for your corruption. too bad he caught on and helped me investigate the todoroki IQ files you gave me and said they were official leaks."
"you're making a big mistake."
"and you should have learned sooner that i don't want the money. i never did."
"bullshit. money is all we have in this hero-run society, the only way we can be equal to them. what else would you want?"
"company." your agent falls silent at the same moment you hear a faint knocking on her line. "speaking of, looks like you have some." the tell-tale beep beep beep! of the call being ended echoes off the walls of the apartment and you sink further into the plush couch cushions, counting down leisurely on your fingers.
five,
four,
three,
two,
one.
"got her, babe!" you hear from down the hall. "and we got her good," katsuki says as he appears from your shared bedroom and grins at you. he leans against the door frame, waiting patiently as you delete your ex-agent's number from your contact list and show him the phone. "i ever tell you you're a natural at getting confessions out of people?" you giggle and let him pad over to you on the couch, sliding down so that he could lie his entire body on top of yours. even after all the time he'd been with you, the skin to skin contact still made your stomach burst into uncontrollable butterflies.
"i guess it comes with being a spy for so long," you suppose with a shrug. "but i'm not one anymore." your fingers absentmindedly trace the creases of back muscle through his shirt and he hums like a cat purring contentedly.
"yep, and now you're stuck with me until one of us dies in combat." you click your tongue with a tsk and lightly pinch his side, feeling him snort in triumph against your sternum.
"why can't you just say you love me like a normal person?"
"because neither of us are normal, genius," he explains, his eyes shut against your chest. "how normal is it to be so lonely that when you're around another lonely person, your shit cancels out?"
"i guess not that normal," you concede. "but still...what do i do now?"
"as much as i wanna say it, i don't think 'me' is the correct answer," katsuki proposes and you burst out laughing. "but really? anything you wanna do, baby. your hand's off the throttle, so now you're just cruising."
"since when did you use so many metaphors?" you ask with a teasing smile. "last week you said 'lightning in a bottle' and 'cursed like eve.'"
"since i met your dramatic ass."
"you know you love me."
"mmm, now you're finally starting to get it."
if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
#bakugo x you#bakugo x reader#bakugo x y/n#katsuki x you#katsuki x reader#katsuki x y/n#bakugo katsuki x you#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugo katsuki x y/n#katsuki bakugo x you#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo x y/n#mha x you#mha x reader#mha x y/n#bnha x you#bnha x reader#bnha x y/n#bakugo fluff#bakugo angst
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Sweet Tooth
A/N: Well let me say first and foremost. My bad guys. Lol I didn't mean to keep this rotting in my drafts for almost a year, but life got crazy. I hope you guys enjoy this
Warnings: Explicit. Oral(fem receiving) Body worship. Finger sucking. Squirting. Multiple orgasms. Willy being down bad.
Summary: You’re sweeter than any chocolate he could cook up in his shop, and Willy is all too eager to show you just how much he craves you. Your smiles, your attention…your taste.
The last few weeks of your life have been vibrant.
Filled with technicolor so unlike the dreary years you’ve spent in this town. Between the weather and the chipped cobblestone, England was so gray this time of year. Frigid and frozen over with winter winds and a constant flurry of snow.
It was on a particularly cold night that you’d found him.
Saved him, he’d argue whenever he told the story. Saved him from Bleacher and his mangy mutt.
“Don't you ever get tired of harassing people?” you'd sighed as you'd stumbled upon the scene. A familiar one- another poor soul about to get roped into Bleacher and Scrubbit’s barely concealed hoodwink. Everyone who’d grown up in this city knew better.
��Why don't you mind your business, Y/N. And leave us be. Both me and mister-” Bleacher looks to the man. The one with the sharp cheekbones and the ostentatious velvet trench coat.
“Wonka. Willy Wonka” And he’d said it with such innocence gleaming in those bright eyes that in that moment, you knew you couldn't let him fall victim to the cruel scam.
That’s how you’d ended up with an unexpected housemate.
The home you’d grown up in is nothing special and far from fancy, but you do happen to have a spare room. One with an old fold-out bed that’s more comfortable than it looks. It may have been stupid, but you couldn't help but trust him. Want to help him, feel this pull to him…
That was weeks ago. Almost a month now.
Willy living with you, under your roof, feels oddly natural. Like it had been years that the two of you had been co-existing, he fits into your space like he was destined to come to you. Like he belongs there; the two of you working together like a well oiled machine.
You cook dinner, he washes the dishes and wipes down the counters. The house has never been neater. Even though you try to deny them, every day when he returns from the Gallery Gourmet, he leaves silver shillings in the key bowl on the kitchen table.
“It’s not much…but I want to make sure I’m paying my way. I’m real appreciative of all you’ve done for me” he tells you so earnestly it makes you blush. You sneakily slip his sovereigns in the pockets of his trousers when you do his laundry.
He doesn't know it but he’s helped you too. And not just by scrubbing dishes.
You truly hadnt realized how lonely you were until he came along, and you were terrified of losing your found companion. You’d hold on to him for as long as he’d allow.
Your new favorite time of the day is the evenings; quiet ones. With a fire burning in the hearth and the radio playing softly. You and Willy curl up on the couch, warm in your respective quilts. And read. Well, you read to him. At his persistent insistence.
“Aren't you tired of me blabbing yet?” you tease as you pick up the dog eared copy of The Hobbit that the two of you had been working your way through.
Willy gives you a grin, all boyish and crooked “Never that. I adore the way you tell stories”
That makes your stomach swoop dangerously and you shake your head “You’re a flatter, Mr. Wonka”
“No, no. Your voice is more melodic than the bells of Notre Dame” and when he says things like that to you, how are you not supposed to swoon? From any other man it would make you scoff, but from Willy his compliments always feel different.
Like maybe he’s telling the truth…
You ignore it and change the subject to something that feels safer “One day i'm gonna put you in front of a map and make you show me all the places you’ve been”
“Honestly, It would probably be easier to mark off the few places I haven't been-”
“Oh ho ho ho. How modest of you, great explorer” You tease around a laugh and his ears redden a bit at your ribbing.
“It's not like that and you know it” Willy defends “It was a lot less glamorous than it sounds. I spent seven years under the deck scrubbing pots and then collecting ingredients for my chocolate whenever we made port”
“And wooing girls on every continent?” I ask and that blush on his ears spreads to the high apples of his cheeks.
He’s a pretty one and you know even though he pretends to be demure, might come off as innocent, he’s anything but.
You’d gotten a small taste of it, and hadn't thought of anything else since. But neither of you had quite mustered the bravery to talk about that yet.
The two of you settle in on the old worn couch with mugs of steaming hot chocolate, courtesy of Willy. He’d spoiled you rotten, made you develop a terrible sweet tooth. Any cavities you develop, you’re completely blaming on him.
“Willy” you whine.
“Just try it, please. I made this recipe especially for you”
You take a sip.
The first rush of flavor over your taste buds has your eyes fluttering.
“Mmm, oh my god” you can't help but moan. It’s the most complex thing you’ve ever tasted. Truly. He’s outdone himself- cinnamon and warmth.The kind that feels like a a lovers embrace. Sweet milk chocolate. Is that a hit of rose? “This is insane, what’s in this?”
At your praise Willy smiles like the cat that caught the canary “Cinnamon bark from Sri Lanka, Wild roses from China. Coconut milk”
You look over at him, appraising. Trying to figure out why his voice has taken on that husk. Why his eyes are boring into so intensely.
“What a peculiar combination of flavors” you whisper and Willy bites his lip.
“Its become my favorite combination lately” he admits “but I can't seem to get it quite right. You see, I was allowed to taste it only once, and its tormented me since”
Your breath hitches. Flashes of tangling tongues tongues and his lips pressed against yours. It had only been one kiss but it had wreaked havoc on you since.
You eyeball the mug in your hands. Maybe you weren't the only one suffering with the after effects after all.
“Is this chocolate supposed to taste like?...”
“You. Yes. Your kiss. Your tongue and your lips” Willy nods. “I don't know if anything can come close to the real thing, but I tried”
Your heart thunders behind your ribcage. The longing in his voice matches the one within your gut, the need that had been brewing.
“I’ve spent hours. Thinking of you, trying to imitate your taste so that I could have it one more time. Spicy, but not quite. More warm. Sweet…the floral note from your lipstick. I’ve been nearly everywhere and i’ve never sampled anything quite like it”
With his confession, the thin thread of control snaps.
You’d been trying, so hard. Trying not to scare him away. Trying to keep the intensity of your feelings at bay so that he’d stay, even after he secured his shop. That he wouldnt leave you when he found success-
You place the mug down on the old wood of the side table-
“Please” Willy’s pathetic as he grabs at your arm “Don't go, I understand if this was too much but I- I didn't know how else to show you”
You lean into his touch, not away and that seems to calm him if only just.
Of course this sweet silly man couldn't just tell you that he cared for you. That was not his style. He was bad with words, so much better with his hands. To him, he’d shown you the most sincere form of devotion, crafted your portrait with his most loved medium.
“I feel the same” you say, voice quivering just the tiniest bit. His eyes melt and he comes in close, forehead knocking against yours.
When you kiss him its hot from the start. It’s wet and electric, charged with emotion. With desperation. Willy’s sinewy hands are all over you, cupping your chin, squeezing your waist, so much more bold this time. The waiting had lowered any inhibitions he might have had.
It’s frantic, him unbuttoning your blouse and you tugging at his trousers.
You need more. Need to feel his dark silky hair between your fingers, his pale skin under your palms.
Nothing feels like enough. Not when he mouths at your garment covered breasts or when you wiggle out of your skirt.
You reach into his boxers, wanting to palm at the blood hot hardness you’ll find there-
He groans and pulls his mouth away from your neck, where he’d been suckling marks into the delicate skin. “Wait, don’t”
“Why?” you’re confused, you can feel him. Firm and needy under the cloth.
“Because I want to take care of you first. With my mouth. If you’ll let me”
And oh. Oh.
All you can do is nod. Lay back and let him take what he needs, you feel more vulnerable than ever before. When he blankets you with his body, you realize that you also feel safer. Adored by this man, by this odd beautiful man.
Willy is a tactile person. He wants to touch and taste. And so that is what he does.
There’s so much to feel. Your heavy breasts, peaked with hard little nipples that he swirls his tongue round. Your belly and wide hips, so soft, so much give, he watches his fingers dig in and indent. Your thighs, so plush.
He buries his head between them. And inhales, deeply.
“Willy!” you exclaim, scandalized, trying to close your legs, but he shoulders his way deeper.
“You smell so good” Willy reassures you, his nose pressed against the wet patch on your knickers. Groaning like it’s the best scent in the world.
He takes his time, savors the moment as he peels the damp fabric away. His eyes locked on how the strings of slick stretch and shine in the low fire light. You’re so wet, the puffy lips of your cunt sopping already. And when he takes his first tentative lap, he knows that he could do this for hours and there's no way he’d ever be able to replicate it.
Nectar from the gods. Earthy and sour sweet.
You whimper as he feasts, as he gorges greedily. The sight of his dark head bobbing between your thighs makes you shudder. It’s almost unreal. That he’s doing this, that he wants you. His arms are wrapped around the back of your thighs, holding them up, holding you open.
You come for the first time with your fingers buried in his hair, pressing his face deep into you. Riding his nose and tongue.
For the second time you’re arching away from the sharp pleasure.
“Willy” you choke on your whines as his fingers reach deep into you, hitting that sensitive place inside over and over. You’re shaking with overstimulation, but hes groaning like he’s the one being brought to orgasm over and over.
He pulls his wet mouth away every so often. To tell you how beautiful you are. How good you taste.
“I can’t” you whisper, warningly.
“Please” Willy insists, his breath against your clit “One more, one more for me”
You can't deny him anything, can you?
You arch right up from the couch cushions, squealing as you hit that peak again. But this time is different, this time something inside you bursts, pushing wetness out in a flood.
Willy lets out a gutted sound from where he’s smothered by your thighs, that have tightened vice like around his head during your orgasm.
Coming down from it is almost painful and you’ve never sobbed from pleasure but well. There’s a first time for everything. While you shake and shiver Willy’s gentle, petting your thighs and tummy in soothing circles. Pulling away from your over sensitive flesh.
He stares up at you, his gaze heavy and his tongue poking out every few seconds. Swiping at his wet lips. Like he can't stop tasting you. It’s debauched. Beautiful.
“You are the best thing i’ve ever tasted” Willy pants out the vow, raw with honesty. Drunk on the flavor of you.
Wryly, you wonder if he’ll try to manufacture it into a truffle. A fancy bon bon.
You smile as he climbs back fully on top of you, your arms wrapping around him and holding him close. You kiss the shell of his ear before whispering-
“My turn to taste you”
🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬
I never thought I’d be writing Willy Wonka smut but well. Here I am lol
#willy wonka x reader smut#willy wonka x reader#willy wonka smut#wonka x reader smut#wonka x reader#timothee chalamet smut
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I am... Doing surprisingly well after this surgery tbh
#I mean. I'm gonna be out of work for two weeks but like#i got up n walked n the nurses were like WOAH GOOD JOB#probably helped that they just gave me two different pain meds tho#once those wear off .....#gonna be ouchie time again#but im shockingly awake and feeling good#way better than when my appendix was revolting against me#but also that sleep they put me under? wowie wow restful
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So....... Island Punch canon???
#guys I love the energy but I'm not just gonna openly spoil my comic on tumblr dot com XD#have patience etc#these are two VERY traumatized women give them a SEC#like even if it is canon (which I will not confirm because that's spoilers)#they've known each other for like a week#and have VERY different ways of viewing relationships with other people#they're not just gonna jump into kissing immediately#let them work out their stuff first#...I don't mean for this to sound condescending so apologies if it does#just putting the thoughts out there#in the tags on an ask on tumblr dot com#star talks#I have *thoughts* about relationships#romantic and otherwise#and I put them all into my comic whee
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Interview. Interview. Oh Another interview. Interview. Interview. Guess what's next? An interview that a manager is like "Today at 2pm sound good?" which I took bc yeah, it was good...
I'm tired.
Now will ANY OF THEM ACTUALLY Call Me Back???
#taks speaks#literally woke up to an email from a place that interviewed me two days ago saying i wasn't selected for an interview#like??? What???#YOU JUST INTERVIEWED ME#there's one of them that i'm hoping for bc it has the lovely 8-5 hours. not per shift. just being open#and it's a tourist trap#that has good health benefits and gets me into other tourist traps around town For Free +3 guests max#like hello. dad can visit. bring both sisters. we're going touristing#and sea world at 50% off which is pretty damn cool#i'm gonna start harassing them daily on the phone as of wednesday#if that gas station food prep job doesn't get back#which pays a touch more with a 10% discount on GAS#BUT they're the ones who sent that weird email this morning saying i didn't make it to the interview stage which um#why? what? you talked to me twice?#I'm QUALIFIED? It's the same damn job i previously had but for a gas station. i mean come on#ugh. my lowest quality options are part time at a busier and more annoying tourist trap#or *sighs* dominos.#at least dominos gets good tips tho#everyday for like. the last week has been interviews#except yesterday which tbh i slept most of it#i need a fuckin job dude. come on#i have also created a list of managers i would rather be interviewed by#at the bottom of the list is intimidating older woman. next is slightly younger than that woman who thinks i don't look local enough#somewhere in the middle is that really chill old lady who gave me advice about chafing in the heat. great lady#and top is black man in his 20s. very chill. easy to talk to. i've been interviewed by two and the first one was younger than me#and i intimidated him. bc i knew more about interviewing laws than he did. whoops. missed out on the job but he was nice#today's though? KNEW HIS SHIT. Perfect manager. I'd want to work for him. Chill. easy to talk to and understood the laws well#...just realized the bar is that low. wow.#sadly he's the dominos guy and that job is second to last on my preferred list#i have most definitely noticed that the person interviewing you sets the daily tone for the job
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So I hit my 700th edit for the WHA wiki today, because I am a totally normal person
#For the record I have been there for. 27 days.#That makes an average of 26 edits a day which is even more terrifying because I definitely was not updating every day#Also this is for the Telepedia Wiki not the Fandom one#Anyway you should check it out!#In maybe a week because the website cache is super slow for some reason when you're not logged in#But I'm having fun#The nice thing about working on a wiki where there's actually other people doing stuff#Is that they can do the boring stuff like character bios and etc while I run around doing the fun stuff like pages on animals and plants#Anyway I was working on the Eldroxen page which are the big fluffy ox from the Silver Eve Procession#And it was so funny collecting info on them from the main series and then checking Kitchen real quick and SURPRISE! THEY'RE EATING IT!#I mean I should have expected this after having watched Dungeon Meshi and yet~~~#Also funny was that I copy+pasted the page coding for one the (food) animals as a template for this giant Mole-worm beast page but#forgot to remove the line about it being for food and afterwards had a laugh and then removed it#But now I'm like. They probably WOULD eat that sucker. Giant mole worm/snake/dragon thing? That'd feed a whole town!#Qifrey could have an entire audience watching how he'd prepare and season it#Anyway if you've been wondering where I've been that's it#Also funny story: during the Covid pandemic I stayed employed when my coworkers got let go because they needed me to catalogue an entire#new set of guided reading books; and have these sets have a digital checkout instead of the old-school card catalog we were literally still#using in 2020. Anyway I went all out with the organization of the books and the boxes and even made a reference binder for the books#via subject so teachers/tutors could find specific subjects and reading levels etc#(I'd have done a digital way to search for results but honestly half the teachers couldn't figure out how to sign in to the laptop. So.)#Anyway. Only a handful of teachers actually used these books and two years later the school switched to a new reading program#that came with its own set of books and lessons so this 10k reading set was essentially unneeded (and my dear coworkers never got rehired)#Anyway I learned last week that they're clearing out that room and all of those barely-used books are getting thrown out 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃#Isn't that funny#Literally everything is just sandcastles built in the surf#I'm so glad I already accepted this during my pumpkin carving years because otherwise I think I'd be upset#Anyway I'm gonna go play my spooky fishing game
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ohhhhh my godddddd
#teeth.txt#i'm a temp worker right now which is fine but management has been SO UNCLEAR about how long theyre actually gonna keep me on#when i was hired officially as a temp (changed from a student) i was told directly that i was authorized to work for a full year#(aka until july 2025)#so i was like cool sounds good!#but then earlier this month i asked for a slight schedule change (to work MORE mind you)#and got an email back saying 'ok your schedule is approved through oct 31st aka when your contract ends!'#and i was like. haha. what do you mean by that.#and was told to talk to my supervisor about continuing to work past that date#which i did and she was like 'oh yeah i want your help' so i was like cool. sorted.#and that was... two weeks ago?#but i literally just got another email on that original thread from my supervisor#being like 'hey [director] did you decide to approve baz to keep working?'#DONT CC ME ON THIS!!!!!!!!!!#most stressful email to receive at 8:30 in the morning#i thought we were all squared away!!!!!!!!!!! i thought it was fine!!!!!!!!!#i just wish there was more transparency. like am i out of a job in 2 weeks or not.#this is also not the first time something like this has happened el oh el#helpppppp i'm gonna die
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I just had the horrible thought that I need to fall in love because having devastating crushes on beautiful, competent, authoritative women that I desperately want to please is exhausting and I need it to stop
#this one is straight so there's no room for delusion which is good#but my burning need to be her most favorite is eating me from the inside#it IS making me better at my job though#.......i mean i think so but what the fuck do i know#on friday night amongst the grueling psychosexual chaos that ensued a very smart guy that I LOVE said to me#i have no doubts you're gonna be a great psychiatrist actually#i traded a month with him to have another month with her#he's a phenomenologist she's a psychodynamic....ist? rival theories#I don't like most of psychodynamic theory.......so far#but i love the way she works and i can see how well it fits with her manymanyMANY patients and goddamnit i love personality dosorders#so i made the choice to go with her yes and im very torn casue i LOVE that guy and i wish i could become his friend like my bff from my year#also.......kind of dumb of me since I'd only soend two days a week woth her and the other three with very scary ladies#but I've been in scarier situation i can manage#and god when she praises me (silently obv she's only been forward about my merit ONCE and i almost pissed myself like an overexcited dog)#the endorphin rush is........man#but yes i need to work on this.......idk how to define it. closest i can get to explaining it is professional sub space#with strong aspects of praise kink#pathetic is what it is really#but hey if it makes me study harder who fucking cares right#I'm gonna be the smartest most intuitive fucking bitch amongst my peers so if I can't have her (them) carnally then goddamnit#I'LL HAVE THEIR PRAISE AND RESPECT AND ADMIRATION AT LEAST#........I'll be normal again in a week or two i just need to get over these next couple of days of....idk. inflammation i guess#yeah it's just like an infected wound right now#angry red throbbing hot pain#i know the drill it'll be better in a couple of days you just need to not freak out and let it do its thing#it's nice to be mature-r about emotional impulsivity and the shame that comes after an episode of deregulation#it really doesn't have to be a big deal even while it still feels like it#it still hurts but it's like......hour three of a tattoo. it's a bitch but you know it's gonna be over eventually and wriggling won't work#the only thing left to do is enjoying it all while it's happening or trying to#I don't think I'm doing a great job but what're you gonna do right
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I'm working on a project on my computer and vaping, this is the closest I've been to my normal pain level in days. I know it won't last, especially not when I'm trying to sleep later.
Trying to ignore the guilt of disappearing from work for three days, when the last time I did that it was my mental breakdown two years ago.
#it's not like then#not really#I mean it is and it isn't#my physical health was/is in a point of decline and the fear of pushing myself too hard became/is becoming too much#but I've grown so much in the last two years#I'm not gonna lie#sometimes I wish I had quit the work force back then#I obviously couldn't have predicted the sharp decline of my physical health over the course of this calendar year#but it happened#so the day to day question becomes now what?#now what do I do with myself/my life/my time/my energy/my independence/my god knows what else#nothing I am physically capable of doing is going to fulfill me and the things that fulfill me are now out of reach#so what fucking now?#I think this is it folks#I think it's time to start planning my exit strategy from the work force#and I don't know how the fuck I'm gonna do that when we literally just bought a condo#and I have therapy tomorrow too so I get to try and relay all this to my therapist in just half an hour lol#I don't regret dropping down to maintenance sessions#but sometimes you just need more time#tomorrow I'll get on the phone and be like ohmygodjoshitsbeensuchafuckingweek#ihadaflareupsobadicalledoutofatotaloffourdaysofworkandleftearlybythreehoursoneday#andnowimhavingcompletefearsaboutbeingsocompletelyincapacitatedthatillneverleavethehouseagain#and he'll be like well first of all BREATHE#second of all there's nothing indicating that this is unlike every other flare up that you've managed to fight through after a week plus#and then I'll be like butwhatifimstuckhomewithkaren24/7andshedrivesmebatshitwhenicantleaveonmyown?#and then he'll be like what did I just say about breathing?#but then he'll point out that the point of us moving is so we can get more space and be able to separate ourselves from her more#and then I'll cycle back to but she won't see reason and take the downstairs bedroom now instead of god knows how long down the line#trust me we do this every two weeks lol
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pray for me.
#just sent the chapter to my supervisor. after going mia for two weeks and nit sending him anything.#it's not even the whole thesis#i still have one more chapter to write#which. when will i do this you ask? well. i would be writing it now but i have to go to work in like 4.5 hours.#and last time i went to work ob 2 hours of sleep it ended in a migraine and out of body experience (in a bad way)#so yeah. nap. work. go home. write write write write for the whole night. hopefully finish. if not take a nap. work. go gome. write & finish#unless my supervisor tells me to go fuck myself lol then i won't have ti keep writing :')))#i really hope he writes me back when i'm already at work so i don't have to see his reaction before working#bc i know whatever he writes back it's not gonna be nice#which. understandable. bc i fucked up big time. but also. this guy really knows how to be mean and he likes to be mean#so hopefully i don't burst into tears at work that's what i'm getting at#okay off to sleep good night#hope everyone is doing alright <3#miss you mutuals i promise that when i'm finally free i'll write back to everyone🙏🏻#agnes talking
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I snapped today at work, and by snapped I mean I politely commented on a help desk ticket by summing up an mess of an (type of) issue that's come up for at least the fourth time in the 2+ months I've been managing user accounts, and asked the person responsible to fix it (himself for once) because last time I fixed his mess-up it took me two whole days to work out the details with at least four other colleagues from different departments and I really don't want to do it again. there's other shit that needs doing, I've been working 10+ hour days for most of this week already, so I need to cut down not add on more.
(good thing tho - at least we managed to fix the issue where the dataset of a newer employee got mixed up with another one of the same name and therefore wasn't able to apply for any of the access/accounts she needed. technically not entirely my area but it does impact us not being allowed to create an account for her so I figured I might as well track that issue down. took three days and at least three other people, but hey - it should all work out now. yay for that)
#been feeling anxious af ever since bc it's the first time I've been this firm in a reply and idk how they'll take it#there's underlying issues in inter-departmental communication that need fixing that cause these issues to happen again and again#but my boss is on parental leave and his substitute is sick not that she cares or is up for doing her job where communication is concerned#so there's no real sense in addressing that rn esp by me who's only been there since June. but it does frustrate me a lot#anyway. I'm sure I'll get over this too. but yeah.. ppl not thinking things through for the two mins it takes to create an account#or the twenty seconds it takes to check if one already exists before creating a new one#or the minute it takes to check if folks still have an active contract past their time working in your department before deleting an accoun#just jfc. put in a smidge of effort and five mins total and save the rest of us from spending half a day to fix your mistake#oh well. if I get a pissy response I'll just blame it on being new as an intern and being too motivated and idealistic I guess#god forbid I expect people to do their jobs thoroughly or with at least a singular thought..#anyway. I feel like I'm allowed to be grumpy abt this since we are the folks who end up having to fix this shit#and by we I mean pretty much mostly me at this point bc one colleague is sick atm. my boss barely has time for this and is on leave#and my other colleague only works half time so I'm the one who's been handling most of these over the past month or so#which.. is still insane considering how I'm a goddamn intern who shouldn't even have admin rights tbh#but without them I couldn't do anything at all lol so here I am. nice that they trust and believe in me I suppose#that's why I try to do my best. (who am I kidding that's always the case anyway)#but yeah. definitely a 50% staff support job and only 50% of the other important things that need doing rn it's more like 90/10#and it's funny how I still dread my two hours of hotline. but every time the line is too busy I still jump in#we are also only 6 people atm out of 10 and three of us are still in training. and one of the trained folks had to come back in mid time of#next week we'll likely be 4#depending on if our substitute boss lady is back.. not that I'd look forward to it. she's a mess and she's been horrible to deal with latel#sure. she's stressed. but she's either snapping at me when I ask abt shit I can't know yet or she's ignoring me. great basis for team work.#so honestly I'd rather she not return on Monday. esp not if she's gonna spread her germs everywhere#but now sleep. sorry for the rant. it's certainly been quite the month since I returned from my own wisdom tooth rated sick leave..#gotta be up again in 6.5 hrs so I can be at work at 6 to let the electrician in. I'm gonna sleep so hard over the weekend I stg#a day in the life of..
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god i really forgot that every business management professor specifically is the most unpleasant human being alive for no good reason. i have two business classes with like econ and accounting professors respectively and those look fine and then oh my god if i have to go back to this class with this professor i think i might actually kill myself
#red rambles#she's not. *mean*. she is. um. fucking. i think condescendiing is the word#she made us do a kahoot in class on questions we didn't know explicitly because she knew we didn't know them. i hate kahoots#she went through the syllabus like we were children which. fine whatever every professor does that it's why i hate the first class#but she also kept going off topic to give us life advice. never give me life advice ill fucking kill you#im really not sure what else was my fucking problem but i genuinely felt like i was being psychologically tortured#also i have done one of the several assignments for the class already and they're babyshit but its going to be one of my most#busywork heavy classes and she wants us doing discussion questions every fucking week#and i have to download yet another fucking app for her class#and i need it for my degree plan but oh my GOD. i need to get the fuck out of it#im gonna try and find a different session of the class taught by a different professor and switch in#do you know how much i have to hate a class if im willing to eat two entire finished homework assignments to get out of it#eta. i take it with this professor or i take it with a different professor i know and already know i cant stand#who is also going to work us like dogs unlike this prof who is going to apparently treat us like we are 14 years old#i guess its not college if i'm not being forced to experience psychological torment for an hour and a half every couple days lol#ill just have to like eat something before that class and do my best to fortify myself before i go in and turn evil
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tfw one of your fav fics got added to a private/unrevealed collection so you can't view it anymore and you forgot to download it so you might never get to reread it again :(((
#eliot posts#why would you do that instead of orphaning it or making it anonymous??????#ughhh i always forget to download fics#at least it was just privated and not deleted so it might come back?#part of me wonders if it was actually an accident cuz sometimes how collections like that work can be confusing to authors#and i don't see the logic as to why someone would do that on purpose?#i wish i could ask why to get my curiosity satiated at least even if they don't end up making the fic public again#but i can't do that without like. commenting about it on one of their other fics. in a completely different fandom#and i'm not gonna do that cuz i reckon it'd just make the author real uncomfortable and i don't wanna do that#but like. it is gnawing at me nonetheless.#it appears to have only been privated for a week or two (after being available for several months prior)#so like hope is still very much there of it coming back#i once had a fic get straightup Deleted for months and the author disappear without a trace only for it to get reuploaded out of the blue#but yeah. reminder to dowload your fav fics! ao3 is not as permanent as you may think#god the fic was just. SUCH a good take on going no contact with an abusive parent and it delighted me to read#actually. i know it's a longshot but if any of my followers fastidiously download fics#do any of you have a copy of a toh fic called ''out of the blue'' abt amity and her family?#i would give you my firstborn for it#which means nothing considering i am not having any biological children but you know
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Beginning to really wonder how much of my financial concern is manufactured and handed to me as opposed to something I'm genuinely concerned by
#bc like. i'm getting by just fine. i don't have anything to be reasonably worried about#but also when i was a kid my father would break down my mother's paycheck and basically explain how broke we were#and that May Have Affected Me Somewhat#as well as just. the way you consistently see the advice to just save! don't get takeout! necessities! and i'm not intent on living like#a monk nor am i intent on being on that grindset for financial gain#it's like i don't intrinsically care but i have so many messages given to me about how i need to care a lot and it puts me in a weird spot#i am simultaneously standing still and moving at mach speeds#i mean right now i just need a safety net while in between jobs; after that i need to save up to move out of state bc the uh#political situation and upcoming presidential election don't seem very sustainable for someone like me anymore#they weren't to begin with but i don't wanna stick around to see how bad it's gonna get#but it's like. okay and then what? save for what? going back to school i guess? idk#i feel like i keep asking myself what i'm trying to accomplish and keep trying to force myself to have answers#here and now when i have to be okay with taking things one step at a time instead of having everything here and now#it's simultaneously fine and terrible and i am holding two conflicting yet equal truths#i feel i may have a clearer head once i leave my current job. i'm trying to look but nothing feels appealing given how#burnt out i already feel. i dread going back into my workplace and i fear it's showing to the patients and i don't want that#i want a month off to rediscover who i am as a person outside of getting yelled at in retail and then pick something back up#could be feasible. genuinely could be. i need to sort out the health insurance aspect but. that's lowkey the plan?#to construct a financial safety net and then slam on the breaks for a while; see if i can strike up a deal with the staff about me#coming in for specific tasks bc we already know i'm quick and efficient with the inventory so i do have a little leverage#you know what. this is getting some of it off my chest and i'm starting to feel confident again lmao#i won't be doing weekends starting either next week or the week after so that's a start! i just think i want everything done right now#bc i'm afraid i won't have the chance again but i will. i definitely will#i just need to let myself get to that point; it's just the immense drain from the register work and the Everything that comes with retail#also having to accept that it's okay to leave this; there's not something wrong with me like. ''not being able to handle it'' or w/e#no mindfulness or detachment could've saved me; it was shit and i'm hitting the bricks and that's all there is to it#i've been thinking a lot about it all lately bc it's what's most prominent in my life rn of course#idk. pondering. introspecting. as i am wont to do#anyways if you've read all this you're a real mvp and i am kissing you on the hand#shai speaks
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