#I think this is a lowest low point though

[icewindandboringhorror]

sneepy cozy time....

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 18/10/2024 Max Verstappen - Mutual Masturbation

Plot: You and Max too tired to actually do anything, decide that mutual masturbation is the way to go after a tricky race weekend.

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, mutual masturbation, fingering, handjob, 18+ Minors DNI

You and Max were a very clingy couple, it was rarer to see you not at a race weekend than to see you at one. You were always there supporting Max and cheering him on, and for the most part you guys had loads of energy interacting with fans and being helpful to the team.

However triple-headers normally took it out of you both, especially ones where it was far travel in between and maybe some time zone difference.

But you always supported Max.

You were there though his highest highs and his lowest lows and that just so happened to be today. A very low low. It was Max worst performance in his career. There wasn’t great communication, the car didn’t feel right and Max had struggled the whole race, not moving up any places from his Qualifying Result of P11.

He’d gotten no points, and ended up behind Yuki Tsunoda who’d defended from him brilliantly for the entire race.

When Max came out, after driving the car for 2 hours and all of the media commitments and team jobs he had to conduct afterwards you both got on his private jet pretty done with the day.

You got home to Monaco, and you were both really silent which was kinda rare for Max. Despite what most people think this man can talk for hours, especially to you when you are such a good listening and love the sound of his husky and burnt sort of voice when he spoke both English and Dutch.

You guys had a routine that was never changed no matter how tired you guys were once you got back from a race weekend.

Step one: Get the cases into the house.

Step two Part A: Max separates clean from dirty into piles

Step two Part B: You take the shoes and toiletries and dish them out to where they need to go.

Step three Part A: Max puts a wash on

Step three Part B: You take the clean clothes up and hang them in the wardrobe or fold into draws.

Step four Part A: Max hoovers, Jimmy and Sassy, and then your British Shorthair Lila have all been there moulting in the summer heat.

Step four Part B: You wash out the cat bowls and place down new food

Step five: Make dinner together

And that was how you always did it. You always each took those chores and got on with them. Usually you spoke to each other across the apartment while you were doing it but this time a comfortable silence was with you apart from the cat interruptions every now and then.

After that you guys let the dishes in the sink before alternating showering and getting ready for bed. You both climbed into the fresh bed with the nice sheets rather than the hotel sheets that regardless of the hotel rating always seemed to make you feel kind of odd.

Usually at this stage Max would turn on a film before fucking you into the bed, you clutching into the pillow that your face is smushed against while he thrusts in and out of you deeply.

But tonight with how silent the pair of you were it was obvious neither of you had the energy to fully commit to that.

“Schatz…” he says softly and you look away from the film he’d just put on opposite you bed, a classic you’d watched many times that was sort of just background noise.

“Mmmmmm? What is it?” You smile at him kindly, pulling the quilt up around you some more.

“Well, I just thought that maybe we could relieve some tension” he says still just as softly, a quiet hint to his voice. You almost groan not having the energy to get in top and ride him, which usually happened after these race weekends as his legs, back and arms were physically just as tired as his mind was.

“Argh baby not tonight … I know usually I’m more energetic but I can’t tonight” you say looking at him with a guilty look and he turns away with a flushed and embarrassed look on his face.

“Oh- okay” he says nodding and tucking the cover over him.

You guys sit and watch the film, you lean into him his arm loosely coming behind you as you naturally pulls yourself in closer to him. After the day of silence it was nice just embracing one another in bed.

“Hey I’m sorry I just have no energy tonight it’s not you” you say reaching out to hold his hand that’s above the blanket but knock against something hard causing him to moan out.

You lightly pull the covers away seeing him rock solid underneath. He tries to pull the covers back up, but your grip is strong.

“Max baby why didn’t you say” you try to stifle your laugh.

“Because your not in the mood and we’re both too tired” he sighs pressing his legs together and trying to alleviate the growing need down low.

“How about something else baby, it won’t take up too much energy from either of us” you whisper helping him pull his boxers down seeing his whole dick spring up and slap his bear stomach. He moans as the cold air hits him and you use your hand going up and down.

“Ah ah ah” he moans.

“Now you take over baby” you say and he does taking himself in his hand. Your hand goes into your underwear teasing your clit the way you knew you liked. Your fingers rub against that nub and you moan.

“Fuck Max” you moan and look to your left to look at him only to see him already looking at you. His eyes travel from your eyes down to where your fingers enter your dripping wet core.

You reach out a hand as you hear the fapping sound that Max is making with his fist tightening around his length and going quicker the more you moan.

“So pretty Schatz, fuck lemme see pull them panties off” he groans and you do as your told pulling them off and chucking them to the end of the bed. You spread your legs show Max your fingers thrusting in and out, a scissoring motion as you feel the spongey wall. You free hand reaches out gripping Max thighs as your mouth drops open, you repeating his name as you can feel the coil build up further and further.

His free hand reaches down and starts to rub circles on your clit as he tightens his grip on his own dick going faster than before.

“Fuck Schatz, such a good idea” he moans as before you know it he’s cumming, the stream hitting his lower stomach as his hips lightly lurch up. You cum shortly after him, the release making you relax back into the pillows.

“I think that should be our new go too” he groans, taking tissue from the bedside table cleaning himself up.

“When we’re tired?” You ask with a nod.

“Whenever, that was really hot” he smiles before pulling you into a kiss.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[tofics]

You Owe Me - Part 2

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, slap on the cheek (brat taming??), unprotected p in v

Word count: ~9k

Previously: 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 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.

"Joel?"

The mention of his name brought him back to reality. He blinked once, twice, before his eyes focused on you. You were looking at him over your shoulder through hooded lids, your hair all frizzy around your head from how it had rubbed against the cushion. Lord have mercy. If he didn't know any better, he'd have said you looked all fucked out.

"What is it, darlin'?"

There it was again. Not your finger in his face, no, but your bottom lip slowly pushing out into a pout. Joel swallowed. You had to be doin' this on purpose, right? ...right?

"You stopped." You looked at him with your pout, all sad and sorrowful. It was such a pitiful picture that the corners of Joel's mouth quirked up.

"Sorry. Thumbs're hurtin', is all. Gimme a moment," he replied and shifted so you hopefully, hopefully couldn't see the strain in his pants.

You sighed and plopped your head back down on the sofa. Joel exhaled quietly in relief.

"S' still hurting like hell in the front," he heard you murmur into your arms.

"Hmm?" His thumbs were hurtin', he hadn't lied about that. While he waited for the ache to pass, he gently drew his fingers across the exposed skin of your back. He could do that much, at least. And he'd get to keep touching you.

"S' still cramping like hell," you repeated and looked back up at him over your shoulder. That goddamn pout.

Joel inhaled deeply. Keep yourself in check. His hand brushed over your lower back once more. "I know, darlin'. I'm sorry."

He'd had a lot of low points in his life, there was no doubt about that. But this, this had to be his lowest. Joel was bent over what had once been a bathroom counter, his forehead bunched up as he brought his fist down around his hardened cock, once, twice, again and again. Here he was, furiously jacking himself off behind closed doors, trying to hold in his moans and groans through gritted teeth and bitten lips while you finally slept in the living room.

It had taken a while until you'd been able to drift off to sleep. Joel had massaged your lower back a little longer, the hard-on in his pants pressing uncomfortably against the seams, but he hadn't dared to adjust himself for fear of you turning around and seeing what your moans had caused. He'd felt like a fuckin' teenager, getting a boner like that from just touching on you. It was ridiculous. And then, you'd asked him to pet your head.

Can I lay on your lap while you brush over my head? He was convinced then that you knew. You simply had to know. But there was nothing on your face that indicated any form of evil intent on your behalf. You just wanted his comfort - you were in pain, nothing more than that. Joel had scolded himself, then awkwardly gotten up with a pillow already held to his crotch as inconspicuously as possible. C'mon, he'd said and you'd laid your head on his lap, two layers of worn out fabric and a few measly clumped up feathers being the only thing that kept your face from his hard-on. He'd almost felt ashamed as you closed your eyes and he began stroking a hand over your forehead. Sick old pervert.

That's how he felt now, hunched over as he got himself off to the memories of your moans once more. He came onto the splintered wood with a muffled groan, his free hand balled into a fist. Sick old pervert, he told himself again as he wiped his hand on a ragged old towel behind the bathroom door and closed his pants back up. He'd make sure to tell you not to go into this bathroom when you woke again next morning. Dead infected, he'd say, and hope that you wouldn't check.

Your period wasn't any more forgiving on the second day than it had been the first. You spent most of it on the couch, dozing in and out of your misery while every single bone in your body ached. The only times you got up were to change your pads and to do your business in the backyard, making sure each time to tell Joel to not look. He was weirdly gentle with you, bringing you water every now and then and making sure you ate. He'd apparently found a well in one of the backyards just a few houses away, so at least you didn't have to worry about dehydrating while you bled and bled and bled.

You woke up again sometime in the late afternoon to the warmth and crackling sounds of a fire. Joel must've had started it in the fireplace while you had been asleep. You also found yourself draped in a blanket that hadn't been there before. A small smile appeared on your face at the gesture. Gruff and snappy as he was, he sure had his sweet moments, just like when he'd massaged you last night.

With a stifled yawn you stretched your (still) aching limbs, then paused mid-stretch as your eyes landed on something by the fireplace. What was that hanging from a string above the fire...?

"JOEL!"

Thump, thump, thump. He came thundering down the stairs and sprinted into the living room, rifle raised.

"What, what," he asked hoarsely, his eyes quickly scanning the room for whatever danger had made you call out to him. You glared at him from your position on the sofa.

"Did you - did you wash my pads?!"

He blinked, then lowered his rifle. A hint of pink colored the tip of his ears. "Uh... yeah. Figured you'd need 'em." He scratched his neck, shuffled his foot.

You kept staring at him. "You... washed. My pads."

You could feel the heat in your face as your own cheeks got colored a soft pink.

"Uh-huh." He nodded again. "Washed 'em out in cold water first, then boiled 'em..." Joel finally seemed to pick up on your embarrassment. "Ain't much different than washin' bloody clothes." He shrugged.

"Umh. Thank you." Pink was a long forgotten shade. Your face resembled more that of a tomato now.

"Don't mention it." Joel stood in the doorway a moment longer, then went back upstairs to do whatever he had been doing before you'd called him down.

Some things fade as time passes. For example, you didn't remember much about your mom. She'd passed away early on after the outbreak, and you had been so young, barely ten years old, that you had a hard time recalling her in your mind. There were a couple of times though when you'd hear her in your mind clear as day.

This was one of those moments, as you stood in the upstairs bathroom of the house you and Joel were staying in. The cracked mirror was foggy as you stepped up to it and ran a hand over the cold and wet glass. Your reflection was slightly warped, but you could see the warm flush in your cheeks, the way your damp hair settled around your head.

Baths can make you feel like a new person. She'd always said that as she'd bathed you when you were sick, and you had to give it to her. She was right about that.

Joel had surprised you with a bath, of all things. He'd spend a day upstairs scrubbing down this tub so he could fill it with hot water, one bucket warmed up over the fire carried up after the other, the tub filling up painfully slowly. You'd walked up and down with him with each water delivery excitedly, watching how the water level slowly rose. Of course you had offered to carry some of the buckets yourself - it's for me, just let me do the work - but he had just shaken his head and grumbled at you. I got it.

It had felt so good, slipping into the warm water. You carefully used the strands of soap you had shaved off of the piece Joel had stashed in your backpack, taking your time as you slathered your body from head to toe. The warmth of the water relaxed your muscles. By the time you were done, you truly did feel like a new person.

You had spent the last three weeks in the same outfit, but now you slipped into the spare set that had been in your backpack. Complete with a fresh pair of panties and a fresh pad, you couldn't remember a time you'd felt so comfortable in the last three, now almost four weeks.

The drain gurgled as you let out your bath water. Soap, grime and blood all swirled around and then slowly disappeared down the creaky old pipes.

Joel sat downstairs by the fire as you came down. His gaze flickered up to you from his book as you stepped into the living room.

"How was it?"

You hesitated, unsure of how to express your gratitude. You pulled your sleeves over your hands, nestled around with the fabric in your fingers. "Like a whole new person," you said finally, a soft smile settling on your lips.

He could tell you meant it too. There was a sense of serenity about you that had been severely lacking the past two days - hell, the last couple of weeks. Joel hadn't known you all that long, but this was the first time you didn't seem tense.

"Mhh, I can tell. Might have to go through that whole hassle again, make me a new person too. Sure could do with a new pair of knees."

The bath didn't grant him a new set of knees, but he couldn't deny that he felt fresher than he had in weeks. He came down the stairs to tell you how you'd been right, running a hand through his damp locks to get 'em out of his forehead when he found you on the couch, a sour expression on your face as you stared up at the ceiling.

"Thought you said you felt all fresh," he commented as he sat down in the armchair again. He couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed at the sight of your frown. Hadn't he helped you feel good? You mumbled something under your breath, still staring at the ceiling.

"What's that now?"

You sat up with a sigh. "I said I did, right up until these fuck-ass cramps picked up again." Another one shot through your abdomen right then, like your uterus was giving you the finger for what you had said. You winced and closed your eyes, your nostrils flaring. Why, why had you been born a woman?!

"Back hurtin' you again?"

You nodded, unable to keep the pout from your lips. "The whole damn deal."

Joel knew. He knew he shouldn't. He'd done so well today, busying himself in completely taking apart his gun, cleaning it meticulously before setting it back together as you took your bath. The idea of you, laying in that tub in just your birthday suit - it had only appeared to him once, maybe twice. His hands had stayed out of his pants, he hadn't paid any new visits to the downstairs bathroom.

But now, you were in pain. He shouldn't offer. He'd done enough today, heaving bucket after bucket of scorching hot water up the steps to fill that tub for you. He'd done his share.

"Want me to have another go at it?"

God-damn-it, Miller. Pray she says no. What was he supposed to do? Let you suffer?

Damn right you should, he scolded himself.

"Would you? You've already done so much for me today. I couldn't impose on you like that -"

Damn right, you couldn't.

"Ain't no bother, sweetheart. C'mon. On your knees, like yesterday."

Diggin' yer own damn grave, that's what yer doin. And didn't he know it.

You were so compliant, so quick to get down on your knees in front of the couch. Joel had half a mind to put a stop to the images that were already flooding his mind at how swiftly you slid from the couch to the ground.

Sick old pervert. Gettin' off on commandin' a young little thing to get on 'er knees.

His joints ached as he dropped down on one, both knees behind you, once again glad for the fact that your head was already buried in the sofa cushions. He was sure the eagerness was written across his face, just short of some drool leaking down his chin.

Should be ashamed of yerself.

He would be, later. When he'd undoubtedly be curled over the bathroom counter once more, spray painting its remnants with his cum. He'd been so good today-

"Joel." You whined in front of him, lightly wiggled your hips as if to say get a move on. Joel found himself questioning once again if perhaps you did know what you were doing to him. "Alright, alright. Gettin' to it, kiddo. No need to whine."

Just like the day before, you melted like chocolate under his touch. Your tense body became pliant, coming loose under his strong thumbs digging into your back. Up your spine, up up up, from down around your tailbone all the way up to your ribcage. In his fingers dug, kneading through your skin and muscles like you were dough.

He'd pushed up your shirt a little higher this time, just an inch or two. You hadn't commented on it. Save for his name, you hadn't said anything since you'd gotten back down on your knees. With the first slump of your shoulders came your first moan, sweet and short, like you probably had moaned when you'd dipped your toes into the hot water first. Joel pressed his thumbs up your spine carefully, running his calloused tips deep into your tissue. A red trail followed his motions as your skin began to bloom under his touch.

Up and down, up and down. His fingers worked tirelessly into your aching back. Joel's brows were furrowed in concentration as he searched out the kinks in your muscles, finding the delicate spots that made you jump and keen. Whether you knew it or not, the words tumbling from your lips when he found a point that gave you trouble were like cocaine to him. Oh my god Joel, right there, fuck- and shit, yes, that's the spot- and right there, right there, oh good fucking god.

It took about three of your moans and one mumbled praise for his work until you'd hitched the tent in his pants again. Joel's cock twitched in his boxers as he dug into your back, begging to be set free. The tips of his ears were burning, set alight each time you commented on another knot he found in your back.

Sick old pervert.

He couldn't help it. Touching you was like drinking nectar. He'd never felt anything so delicate under his weathered hands, never before touched on skin so soft and warm -

"Fuck, Joel, right there. Oh god, yes. Don't stop, please."

You'd be the death of him.

"Tell me where it hurts, babygirl."

Your hands came around your back, shakily trying to locate the spots that bothered you. Joel backed up an inch so you wouldn't accidentally brush over his hard-on.

"S' in here-" Your hand flew over your lower spine, close to your tailbone, where Joel had already spent a good portion of his energy. "An' here-" You fingered over where your bra sat, then hunched up your shoulders. "-n' here, drawing all up into my neck." Your fingers trailed up your neck and got lost in your hair at the base of your neck.

"Mh." Joel tutted at you. "Got my work cut out for me, hu, darlin'?"

He saw your head beginning to turn towards him, likely to interject how he didn't have to, but he laid his hands on your shoulder blades instead, swiftly pushing you back down into the cushions. "Ah, ah. Ain't said I wasn't gonna do it. Relax, darlin'. I got you."

He could feel the grumble vibrate in your chest as he slid his fingers down your spine. "Mh. Lotta' spots givin' you trouble, mh?"

She said as much. Ya need te hear it again, sick old pervert?

"See if we can rectify that for ya, eh? Let Joel take care of ya."

He knew he was treading on thin ice, practically heard it cracking under his feet. His words bordered on dirty talk, but he just couldn't help himself. You gave your back to him so willingly, downright begging for his touch.

He was just a man, after all.

A sick, old, perverted man.

"Might wanna lose this, darlin'. Gonna be a relief for sure, n' I can't go rubbin' over it." Joel lightly tapped on the clasp of your bra over your shirt. He already knew he was going to hell anyway. And he really couldn't go on rubbing over your bra. Wouldn't have been comfortable, for you or him.

He'd expected you to object, had half expected a lecture (that he rightfully deserved), but none of that came. Instead, he watched you do that little wiggly move he'd seen women do before where they reach under their shirt and take their bra off without anything ever showing. It had always been one of his favorites to see. One second a woman would be wearing a bra, the next it got tossed across the room, not a single piece of clothing ever having gone amiss in the meantime. As far as Joel was concerned, it was a little magic trick.

And you pulled it off without a hitch. He tried not to look in too much detail as you put the garment next to you on the sofa. He had other things to focus on.

Wallpaper, wallpaper, hole in the wall, wallpaper, rusty nail, crooked crown molding. He could've fixed that easy, back in the day. Didn't need much more than the tools in his belt to do it. Would've made a fine job of it too.

Door frame. Tarnished, cracked. Long forgotten. He could take care of it, bring it back to life, with just a few touches here and there. Just a bit of straightening up the ridge, nothing too fancy. He could certainly do it, expert that he was, doing work with his hands. He'd bring the wood back in shape, love the wood like it was meant to be, gently work on it until it'd comply with his hands and mold to his touch, soft and warm-

No, no, strong and hard, like wood was supposed to be. Fuck, this was going nowhere.

Joel was doing all in his might to distract himself from how you were falling apart under his touch. Your moans didn't let up, praises flowing freely from your mouth as he slowly worked his way up your entire back, pushing more and more of your shirt out of the way until all of your back was exposed to him.

He was glued to the carpet where he knelt, afraid to even move an inch. If he looked hard enough, he could imagine the soft rounds higher on your torso, where shoulder blades softly gave way to what he was sure was a delightful pair of boobs-

No, nope, he wasn't gonna move. Couldn't risk it, not even an inch. If just the thought of your breasts sent his head careening, what would a mild case of side-boobs do to him? He couldn't risk it.

Pity what you consider 'standards', pervy old man.

He did what he could. And he was making you feel so good. You kept telling him so. That had to count for something, didn't it?

You wish.

Where was he, then?

Door frame. Right. Perhaps he'd have to replace parts of it. That'd be okay, too. He'd have to find wood to match the leftover structure - sand the original down, couple of times likely, then apply the stain. He could make sure the new and old pieces matched up that way-

"Fuck, Joel. Yes. Right there."

His head slumped down in defeat.

"Babygirl, please. Go easy on me. I can't do this no more." Joel's beard touched on his chest as he shook his head. "I can't - I'm tryin', I am -"

He heard you shift, felt the loss of your warm skin under his hands as you turned around in front of him. He couldn't look, just kept his eyes shut, not out of respect but-

Open yer damn eyes, you coward. See how she looks at you. Face your shame.

Joel forced his eyes open.

He wasn't met with shame, or even disgust. You had a worried look to you, like you couldn't quite figure out what had happened.

"Are you okay? I'm - I'm sorry, I knew I shouldn't have let you go on for so long, your hands must be hurting-" You felt awful. Joel looked like he was in actual pain. In all your bliss, you had let him work on your back for way longer than you had promised yourself, and he had overexerted himself.

"I'm so sorry, Joel," you started again, but then his hand flew up in the air, silencing you almost immediately. You looked at him with big eyes, trying to read his face. He was red all over from how exhausted he was.

Let an old man work for you like that, you should be ashamed. What are you, a princess?

"Joel-"

"Darlin', I ain't hurtin'. Is' - s' just - goddammit." You watched him run a tired hand over his face. Was it just you, or were the tips of his ears a slightly darker shade of red than the rest of his face?

Joel sighed. You looked at him with worried eyes. What had you done?

"Sweetheart, ain't about you workin' me to the bone. I don't mind that one bit. Trust me," he insisted as you opened your mouth to object. "S' about how you... how you respond to my touch."

You furrowed your brows. "Uh...huh?"

"Your moans, darlin'. They're just about killin' me."

...oh.

You felt your face flush red in a couple of seconds. Of course. How thoughtless of you.

"I'm - I'm real sorry, Joel, I didn't-" Joel shifted in front of you, visibly uncomfortable, and your eyes fell into his lap, widening at what you saw.

Oh.

If possible, you grew a couple shades darker in the face. You could feel the heat pulsating in your ears as your eyes flicked around the room, unsure of where to look. "I'm - uhh, sorry...?"

You heard Joel huff. "Will you quit apologizin'? S' fine. I'm the one that ought to be apologizin'. Ya didn't mean te-"

"You? You've been nothing but good to me all day! You did nothing wrong!"

Another huff of amusement. "I got a tent in my pants here that says otherwise."

Your eyes found his, decidedly staying on his face. "Yeah well, but that's... natural. Not like you're doing that on purpose."

"That bit, no. But I'd be lyin' if I said touchin' on you, workin' your back - that ain't just entirely for your benefit."

He figured if he went with the truth, he might as well come clean about it all. Half-truths had never really been Joel's thing.

He watched you work through his words, could practically see the gears in your head turnin'. He wouldn't have blamed you if you had told him off, hell, he was expecting your finger to come flying into his face any minute now.

"Alright."

He blinked, once, twice. Hu?

"Alright?"

You nodded, slowly at first, then more decidedly. "Alright. Yeah."

Joel's eye was twitching. "Uh... catch me up, darlin'. I got no idea what you mean."

"I mean, alright. Yeah. You can... do me. If you want to."

He watched the words come out of your mouth, heard them coming in through his ears, a faint ringing sound following them. Surely, he had to have heard wrong.

"Come again?"

A slow smile spread across your face. Joel watched it stretch out, like a cat waking up after a nap. The ringing sound in his ears wouldn't die down.

"I said, you can do me. Fuck me. Make love to me, whatever you wanna call it. You have my consent."

Well, now you've done it. You've broken the man.

Joel kept looking at you, a blank expression on his face. The silence between the two of you began to stretch so long that you were seriously beginning to worry.

"...Joel?" You snapped your fingers twice in front of his eyes. "Miller? You home?"

His eyes zeroed back in on you and you let out a sigh of relief. Not a stroke, then. Good. The tips of Joel's ears were burning a bright red. You had to bite down on your lips to keep from smiling.

"You... good?"

He nodded slowly. "Y-yeah. Sorry, sweetheart. Thought I heard you say I could do you there for a second. Fried my brain for a moment."

You couldn't help but chuckle at that. The mighty Joel Miller, feared by all, reduced to an abashed puddle by just a few of your words. Now wasn't that something to see.

"Probably cause I did. Do you need me to write you an invitation? Put my consent on paper? You surprise me, Miller. Didn't seem much to care for it when you pulled me in for that kiss on the stree-"

"Uh-uh." Joel suddenly growled and leaned forward, towering slightly over you on his arms. "None of that again. I paid my dues. Got you out. I drew you a damn bath, girly. What more do you want?"

His finger was right in your face, daring you to object to him. You bit down on your lips once more, trying not to grin at the reversed roles.

"I want you to help me with my cramps. Not on my back. In the front. Please?"

Look at that, you old fucker. Got her on her knees in front of you, begging you to take her. Ain't you a lucky old bastard.

And didn't he know it. Joel's tongue darted into his cheek as he looked you over, taking in your puppy eyes and slight grin that was surely meant to taunt him, but only spurned on the hitched tent in his pants. If you had been a sight to see while he drooled over you in secret, you were almost out of this world when you wanted him to touch on you. Like that.

He shifted around on his knees, a hand on his crotch to find a more comfortable position for his hardened cock that was straining to spring free. "Darlin' -" His voice was strained. "Not that I don't want to, but it wouldn't be right, me being that much older than you-"

Oh, so now you got standards, you pervy old man? Who are you trying to fool?

"Joel, do I need to beg?"

Yes darlin', please, on your knees, impatient and whining like when you were waiting for my hands on your back-

"Cause I will."

Lord have mercy.

Joel had you scooped up in his arms faster than you could blink, bringing you onto his lap in one swift motion, his old arms and knees suddenly very willing to be cooperating with him.

"No, sweetheart. Don't gotta beg," he said as he cupped your face with his hands, running a gentle finger over your cheek to tug a hair behind your ear. "Joel's got you. I'll help you with your cramps. No begging needed."

He looked at you a moment longer, determined to take all of it in. The way you were looking at him expectantly, a soft tint of color in your cheeks hinting at the fact that you were perhaps a bit nervous, the way your teeth bit down in your bottom lip. There was a glint in your eyes too, the kind he had seen when he had pleaded for you to work with him. You looked wicked, bewitching. You could've told him to lick the floor in that moment, and he would've done it, no questions asked.

Joel Miller was a goner for you.

No news there, you old fuck. Now get to it, before she changes her mind.

Joel took one last look at you before he gently tilted his head and put your lips on his. It was a gentle kiss, soft and probing, just testing the waters. He was dipping his toes in, seeing how you reacted to him.

Your lips met his hesitantly, just a blank, unmoving canvas at first, but then you came to life. He felt your lips beginning to move against his own, tentatively and careful, just like he had been. Joel's right hand slipped from your cheek to the back of your head to hold you tighter, his left thumb drawing soothing circles on your other cheek for comfort. I got you, darlin'. Let yourself fall, he was trying to say, and you seemed to understand, sighing and relaxing into him with your body.

Spurned on by your reaction, Joel nipped at your bottom lip, asking you to let him in. He didn't have to ask twice. Your lips promptly opened at his silent request, letting Joel's tongue in to taste the sweetness of your mouth.

My god, you tasted like heaven. Joel was certain he'd never tasted anything so sweet in his life before and he couldn't hold back the groan that had built in his throat. His hands flew down to your hips, securing you against him tightly, as he rocked forward to push himself up. "Hold on to me, sweetheart."

You were so obedient, legs swiftly gripping around his waist as he pushed himself up to heave you and himself on the couch. Joel grunted with the effort and from impatience. He couldn't wait to feel your legs wrapped around him like that without a barrier of fabric between them.

You were gently laid down in your preferred place for sulking, though you couldn't currently remember which, if any problems you had had in the past few days to complain about. Any and all period-related issues seemed to have flown right out of your mind the moment Joel had put his lips on yours, and your brain was too busy tracking the movement of his hands on your body to do anything else, even if it was just about 'remembering'.

He had laid you down on the sofa and had positioned himself over you with one knee between your legs, while he steadied himself with one foot on the ground. The couch wasn't very wide, but you didn't have it on your mind to complain, and neither did Joel. Not that you would've had any time to complain either. Joel was too busy by keeping your mouth occupied with his own while his hands traveled up and down your body as if he was trying to map out all your curves and dips. He must've had more than just two hands, the way he was feeling you up, his hands seemingly everywhere on you at once, brushing over your shoulder, running up the side of your neck to tug on your hair at the base of your neck, holding you at your waist to steady you, then gently cupping your breast before giving it a careful squeeze. There wasn't any part of you that remained untouched and all you could do was try to remember how to breathe in between moans.

"Joel," you panted when he'd abandoned your lips in favor of your neck, trailing down kisses towards your collarbone where he nipped at the skin and then promptly brought his lips down on the harsh mark, soothing what little pain he caused you. There was a growing need between your legs, your arousal mixing with your wetness from your period. You felt a tug in your abdomen, decidedly different from the cramps you had been experiencing for the past days. While also slightly painful, this one was born out of want. You wanted Joel inside of you - no, needed him inside of you.

So you're an old-people fucker now? Yeah?

Apparently, you were, if Joel Miller could be described as "old". He certainly felt anything but as his hands glided under your shirt and found one of your breasts, his thumb and index finger trailing up the soft skin until they found your nipple to take between them, rolling it gently between his finger tips. You moaned into Joel's mouth at the sensation, bucked your hips up into him. Needy, needy, needy. You needed him.

Old-people fucker. Yep.

"I got you, darlin'. I got you," he reassured you when you ground your hips against him, willfully. "Just gotta sample everything on the menu first, before we get to the desert. I got you, sweetheart. Relax."

You whined at his murmured words. You couldn't relax, it was the furthest thing from your mind when there was a pool of heat between your legs that you needed to be cooled down.

"Ah, now." Joel tutted in your ear as you writhed beneath him. "Patience, darlin'. You trust me, don't you?"

You pushed your bottom lip out in response. Of course you trusted him. But that didn't mean you couldn't ask him to hurry the fuck up?

There was a light smack on your cheek before you knew it. You blinked, feeling the stinging sensation before heat spread through your cheek where his fingers had struck you.

"I set the pace. You hear me, sweet cheeks?" Joel's beard prickled against your tingling skin as he pressed soft and gentle kisses on your blooming cheek. "'Nough with the impatience. I got you. I'll take care of you. You gotta trust daddy Joel."

Fine, perhaps he got a little carried away with his smack, but you didn't seem to mind, not severely anyway. He watched you closely just in case, looking for signs that you were uncomfortable or wanted him to stop, but even though you'd looked mildly shocked after he had struck your cheek, your eyes had soon glazed back over with bliss as he worked your nipples between his fingertips. Attagirl.

Joel felt like a kid on Christmas morning, the way he got to undress you piece by piece. It was like tearing off wrapping paper, except he didn't tear through your clothes (not for a lack of want - he'd have scoured the down for new clothes for you if he didn't know that was just a tad overboard) but carefully slipped them off of you, piece by piece, step by step. With each garment of fabric that got discarded on the floor, he got to unearth more and more of you. More of your delicate and soft skin that he had been lucky enough to get a taste of from behind as early as the previous day.

He got stuck on your boobs for a good long while, drawn in by the sight as soon as he pushed your shirt up over them. It was just too good of a sight to pass up, and he had to get a taste to commit your breasts to his memory for good. He sampled one boob first, kissing up from below it and working his way towards your areola, taking his time with your nip as he whirled his tongue around it, even gently pulled on it with his teeth.

Joel couldn't decide what he liked better, the way you felt and tasted under his tongue or how your body responded to him, writhing and rocking up towards him to meet his mouth, the sweetest moans and whimpers falling from your lips as he mapped out your torso with his tongue. It was a hard decision, and he kept falling back and forth between it.

He knew he was pushing your patience by sound of your moans changing. They got breathier and whinier as he went on, sampling your other breast in the same slow and painstakingly precise way he had the other, and he could hear how worked up you were getting, your whines rising in pitch with every stroke of his tongue.

"Joel, please."

He chuckled, drew himself up to meet your pleading look at eye-level. "Gettin' there, sweetheart. I promise." Joel watched your bottom lip push out once more into that delightful pout of yours. He dipped down to suck on it, pulling your plump lip in between his and nibbling softly on it before capturing you in another sloppy kiss.

If it hadn't been for the stark reminder in his pants, he would've worked you over until you were nothing but a whimpering mess underneath him, begging for him with tears in your eyes, but alas, he was nearing the end of what he could take as well.

There was only so much he could do to your upper body before he inevitably got pulled downwards to where you wanted him most, needed him most.

You all but scrambled to help him get out of your pants as he tucked the fabric down your hips, your bottom springing up into the air when he tapped a cheek and nudged his head upwards. "Up, babygirl." A low chuckle rumbled through his chest as he pulled your pants down your legs, carefully slipping them off your feet. "Needy little thing, aren't ya. Mhh, me too, darlin'. Can't wait either." He lightly grabbed your calf and helped your leg up on his shoulder, peppering kisses up your shin towards your knee.

You fumbled with his hair when he continued his trail up your thigh, stopping him when he was more than halfway towards his target. Joel looked up at you from between your legs, his hand running up and down your leg that was holstered on his shoulder. "Somethin' wrong, babygirl?"

You mumbled something unintelligibly, color blooming in your cheeks without his palms ever having come near either of them. You were too quiet for him to hear all of it, but he could make out a few words here and there. Period and all he heard and don't wanna make a mess and the smell.

Joel kissed your thigh again, not nearing your core. "Don't gotta worry about that, hun. Ain't nothing I'd care about. But I'm not gonna do somethin' you don't want. Alright?" He looked at you, made sure you saw the sincerity in his eyes. You fumbled around with your fingers, visibly uncomfortable. Joel kissed your thigh once more.

"Ain't gonna do anythin' you don't like," he repeated and brought himself up again so he was hovering over your torso once more, lavishing kisses on any piece of skin he could find on his way, save for where your panties kept you hidden from him. He made sure to move around it with enough distance that you knew he took you seriously, honored your boundaries. He still had standards.

Low fuckin' standards. More like bare fuckin' minimum.

If anyone had told you you'd be under Joel fucking Miller three weeks ago, you'd have laughed at them and asked them if they'd had one too many helpings of moonshine. Yet here you were, stark naked from top to bottom, laid out for him to see like an exhibition piece under no one else than Joel fucking Miller, about to fuck you.

It was as much as a surprise to you as his tenderness had been. Besides the strike on your cheek (which, the more you thought about it, you didn't really mind) he was being more than soft and gentle with you, working over every spot of you with a dedication and mind for detail that you had never encountered before. You had been exceedingly grateful when he had heeded your wishes about not coming close to your core with his mouth, and it could have been your imagination, but he had seemed even more gentle with you when he slowly coaxed your panties off of you, praising you and leaving kisses all over as he went. You'd never been called so many pet names in one day, let alone within the two minutes it took him to get you out of your underwear. Doin' so good, darlin' and you're so beautiful, sweetheart and never felt a thing so soft, tasted anything so sweet had been among the many, many things he'd purred at you.

Now he was lining himself up at your entrance, kneeling on the sofa with one leg while he steadied himself with the other on the ground as he softly padded the tip of his cock against your soaking folds. You still didn't feel too keen about being out in the open like that, blood just leaking out of you unstopped, but Joel seemed to have an answer for that too.

"Gonna draw you another bath afterwards, mh, pretty girl? Get you all cleaned up nice?" He dipped just the bare tip of his slightly leaking head between your lower lips, gently dragging it up and down, coating himself in what you were sure was a bloody mess. While picturing what was leaking out of you made you tense up slightly, Joel seemed blissed out at the sighed of it. You could see the glint in his eyes, the hunger that was written all over his face as he dragged his cock up and down through your slick, coating himself and more of you in it.

"Ain't that the prettiest cunt I ever did see," he mumbled, his eyes transfixed on your entrance. You felt your cheeks bloom once more, both from the compliment and embarrassment you felt. It was a strange sensation, to feel so flattered and put on the spot at the same time.

Joel didn't give you much more time to think about it though. You flinched when you suddenly felt his warm tip tapping against your clit, gently but forceful enough to send tiny sparks flying through you. "There she is," he said and you saw the smile draw across his face. "Saw you getting all lost in your own pretty head, darlin'. Can't have you zoning out now, we're just getting to the good part." He lightly tapped against your clit once more, a sly grin taking over when he saw how you inhaled sharply at the sensation.

"With me now, sweet cheeks? Ready for me to come inside?"

Joel fucking Miller, a man full of surprises, as you had come to learn. Looks like he could learn after all.

"Yeah," you breathed out and shook your head eagerly. "Yes, please."

You saw his eyes darken as you renewed your consent. A growl sounded from his chest and he quickly dipped down once more, surprising you with another fierce kiss. "Attagirl."

You felt him align himself with your entrance once more, the tip of his length pressing against your aching entrance. "Eyes on me, sweet cheeks," he murmured and your eyes quickly flew to meet his, not wanting to do anything that could stop him from what he was about to do. A kiss was placed on the edge of your lips. "Good girl. Listening to me so good. Makin' me real happy, you know that?"

You gasped as you felt Joel slowly pushing into you. It was a good stretch, on the brink of too much, but he took it slow, pushing in inch by inch while he peppered your chin with more kisses in between murmured praises. "Look at you, taking me so well. Doin' so good, sweetheart. S' a bit of a stretch, hm? Yeah? Pretty thing like you, all tight for big ole' me?" More kisses rained down on your face, Joel's beard tickling over your cheeks as he kissed down your nose, teeth nipping at your lips. "God, you feel so good," he breathed out and you watched in awe as his eyes fluttered close. He was filling you out more and more and you wondered how much more there could possibly be of him as he kept gently pushing into you.

Joel stilled as he bottomed you out, the tip of his cock pressing into you deeply. You could feel it deep inside of you, a gentle push on a spot you alone could never reach, not even dream of reaching. Your breath was shallow, trying to get acclimated to his width.

You felt Joel's beard brush against your face as his head dipped down. "God, darlin'. Takin' me so good. Let me come in all the way, didn't ya? Such a good girl." Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt him retract slightly, the gentle pressure on your inside slowly retreating as Joel slowly pulled himself out of you. Not all the way, no, just enough to make you worry he could, but then his teeth were softly nipping at your chin and you were being stretched out again as he caaarefully drove himself back inside of you.

You made something of a gurgling sound as your eyelids fluttered close while your eyes rolled backwards into your skull. It was the most excruciatingly slow pace he could've taken, and though you knew - guessed - he was doing it on purpose for you, not to tease you, you couldn't help but yearn for more, and faster.

Your hands flew up to Joel's back to pull him closer to you. Would you not have had Joel's penis painfully slowly plowing into you at this moment, perhaps your movements would have been more coordinated. But alas, your hands fumbled all over the place, pulling and grabbing at him in an attempt to get him down to your face so you could kiss him, to hopefully spurn him on to get a move on. You groaned into Joel's mouth when your lips connected at the same time as he met your insides with the tip of his cock once more.

"Fuck, Joel."

He grinned like a stupid school boy as he heard you curse. Hadn't he dreamt of this just a night ago, hunched over the broken bathroom sink? Even if he had imagined it, he never could've imagined this, the real deal. Filling you out with every inch of him was so much better than he ever could've dreamt up himself. Where your moans had been like cocaine to him, your pussy was just straight up heroine. One push inside of you and he knew he was a goner, lost to your pussy forever. He would never feel anything like it anywhere else, that much, he knew.

"Yeah, baby? That feel good?" He kissed your ear as he pulled himself back out, then drove back into you. It was an agonizingly slow pace, but he wanted to savor every moment of it, drag it out for as long as he could. Who knew if you would allow him such a delicacy ever again? He had to make the moment last.

You nodded below him, your cheek rubbing against his scruff as you did. "S'so good, Joel," you murmured against his ear. "But faster, please. Please go faster."

Now how could he say no to such a kind request?

Joel felt his knee object as he adjusted his position on the sofa, preparing himself to fuck into you faster.

Not now.

He didn't have time for aching joints and other ailments. Not when he had you below him, asking him to go faster. Now who was he if he denied a pretty girl like you a favor like that?

A sensible man instead of a pervy old fuck, perhaps?

No. He'd have been a heartless old fuck, that's who.

He grounded himself into the floor with one foot and then got to work. Never mind his fifty-six year old hips. Never mind his aching, complaining knee. He had a job to do, and he was gonna do it.

Joel fucked into you like his life depended on it. He gradually increased his pace until the old sofa was creaking and shrieking underneath the two of you, but those weren't the sounds he was listening for. His hearing was attuned to you instead, carefully dissecting each moan and groan that fell from your lips. What did you like more? What made you groan, what made your fingers dig into his back?

Joel acutely listened to the cues of your body, your verbal ones taking the lead while the rest did their own speaking. He didn't care that your nails pierced the skin on his back, or that you drove your teeth into his forearm, likely leaving a bite mark that would last him a day. It'd be a kind reminder of the gift you were giving him, and had he not been pounding into you at this very moment, he likely would have fantasized about giving the old bathroom another run while staring at the bite on his arm, perhaps running his tongue over the indents in his skin that you were so kindly imprinting at the moment.

"That's right, babygirl, take what you need," he encouraged you and did his best to give you what you needed too. He had heard about it once, how cervical stimulation could help with period cramps, and he could only hope he was alleviating your pain in the same way you made him forget about all his aching joints. Joel wasn't fifty-six as he drove himself into you again and again, he was twenty-five at best, fucking his heart into your pussy like she owned it.

"Joel - Joel -," you whined underneath him and he laid a gentle hand on your face, turning your chin with his thumb so you'd look at him. "Whaddaya need, babygirl? Hm?" He never stopped his pace, never slowed down so you could think better. Joel watched your brows furrow as you tried to form a coherent sentence.

"I'm - Joel, think I'm gonna -"

"You gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Yeah?" Even though his instinct was to lower himself on you so he could kiss on you again, he knew better than to change his pace or angle now. If he was lucky enough to be able to gift you with an orgasm, he wouldn't pass that chance up, even if it meant to starve himself of your lips.

Your face was scrunching up like you were thinking real hard. Moans were no longer falling in a steady stream from your lips, but Joel didn't worry. He'd been with enough women to know the signs, knew that you were getting close. Even though he missed your moans, excitement tightened his chest as he drove himself into you again and again, hoping to push you over the finish line. It'd be the best damn thing he'd ever done.

He felt you clenching around his dick, your walls cramping down around him more and more as your breath hitched in your chest coherently. One, two, three more pushes, and Joel saw the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his life. You fell apart underneath him, moan after moan flowing from your heavenly lips right into his ear, jumbling into one another as your orgasm rocked through you. Joel bit down on his tongue hard, the sight and sound of your climax enough to make him cum right there and then, but he was determined to fuck you through it. He owed you that much.

"That's right, babygirl, let go," Joel cooed as you convulsed underneath him, wave after wave of pleasure slowly rolling through you. He fucked you through it like he promised himself he would, then slowed in unison with your ebbing ecstasy, despite his dick yelling at him to keep going.

Not now. He had other things to focus on.

Joel leaned down to kiss your blissed out face. First your forehead, then each closed eye, down your nose, over your right cheek, left cheek, the corner of your mouth. You kissed him back lazily when he finally landed on your lips, a satisfied hum vibrating in your throat.

"You good, darlin'?" Joel searched your face as you slowly blinked up at him. He ran a thumb over your cheek, drawing small circles on your soft skin.

He didn't care that he hadn't finished. He could do that later, in the bathroom when you were asleep. Of course, nothing would feel as good as your silken walls wrapped around his cock - but that would be fine, too. He'd have all of this to remember, to draw from for the rest of his life, if need be.

You nodded slowly, a sheepish smile on your face now that you had come down from your high. "Yeah. Think I made a mess of you though."

Joel looked down at his pelvis. He was covered in your blood and slick, tinting his pubic hair a deep shade of red. "Don't you worry about that, sweet cheeks. Nothing some water can't clean up. Want me to run you another bath?"

Periods aren't fun, that much was true.

But you couldn't help but think that perhaps, they weren't the worst thing in the world, now that you laid in a bathtub full of warm water, while Joel Miller slowly massaged your upper body.

Having your period in the apocalypse could prove as a challenge, but it helped to have help. Help like Joel Miller, who washed your pads and massaged your back and fucked you deeply to help with your cramps if you asked him.

Yeah, perhaps periods aren't the worst thing in the world, you thought as you tipped your head up and pulled Joel in for a kiss. You could certainly survive another period or two this way.

Series Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

Credits: plant divider by @strangergraphics

A/N: Yep, part two out not even a full two days later because I could not stop thinking about this fic. This is only the second time ever I've written smut (not counting part 1 of this mini-series?) and I would highly appreciate some feedback! (Don't hold back on the criticism too if you got any, I can take it!) This fic was definitely very much influenced by @strang3lov3's 'Seeing Red' story which I highly, highly recommend, and the fact that I was on my own period. Also, if anyone's wondering, I couldn't stop thinking about these goddamn gifs so I had to bring the cheek biting into this. 🥵 Now, none of this is proof-read so I apologize for any typos etc. Hope you had fun reading this! Please leave a comment if you did 🫶💓

(No pressure) Taglist:

@missladym1981 @guelyury @roboticsupersonic @auteurdelabre @ashleyfilm

@mandojojo @picketniffler @vickie5446 @frogsdeservelovetoo @elli3williams

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @justajoelsreader @oldmenenthusiast

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Home Alone, 1990

Pairing: Reacher x Reader

Word count: 2.6k

Notes: Hi!!! It’s time for Kinkmas!! I’ve been preparing for weeks for this….and still didn’t finish everything 😀😀 it’s fine. It’s fine I just forgot they had to be in order it’s fine

There’s something special about tying Reacher up. 

You sit on his waist, humming softly as you tie his wrists back to the headboard. He can get out, you both know that, but he’s giving you control and that’s what makes it hot. 

He’s got a funny little smirk on his face, while you wrap him up in the brightly colored garland and boop his nose. You fix the Santa hat on his head and pat his chest. 

“You look good” 

“Do I?” He flexes his wrists a little as you toy with the band of his red boxers, teasing both of you. 

“Mhm…” You toss your hair over your shoulder, displaying your perky tits in the pretty red lace bra you’d greeted him in when he came home. You took his hand, pulling him toward the bedroom with a mischievous glint in your eye, he immediately knew he was in for it and eagerly followed you back. 

“You comfy?” 

“Sure am… you like what you see Peaches?” 

You nod slowly and grind against him gently, rolling your hips seductively. He struggles against the restraints slightly, wanting to hold your hips.

“Well shit” He looks up at them and tugs a little harder and you swat at his chest. 

“Hey! You said you’d be good!” 

“I don’t know how long I’m gonna be able to keep my hands off you, but fine” He lets his hands hang again and you stroke his cheek, your hand looks so small against his face. He turns his head to kiss your hand and you gently pull away. 

“So what’s your plan, hm? " he asks lazily. Though his body betrays him, you can already feel him hardening underneath you. 

“I’m glad you asked” You reach over for a red velvet bag with gold drawstrings. You pull them apart and wriggle your eyebrows playfully at him. He raises an eyebrow as you slowly pull the device from the bag and present it to him. It’s a purple wand-looking thing with a large marshmallow-looking tip, you set the bag to the side of him and smile wickedly.

“I thought…maybe it was your turn to feel what you put me through every time you want one of your little marathon sessions” 

“You fully enjoy those” 

“Shut up, that’s not the point! The point is-“ You narrow your eyes at that stupid smirk he always seems to have on his face “The point is, I think it’s your turn to suffer” 

He tests his bonds again, they tickle his skin but he feels comfortable. He settles into the bed and grins at you as he bucks his hips. You squeak and slap your hands on his chest, bouncing on his cock.

“Do your worst” 

You frown at him, your little nose crinkling as you stick your tongue out at him, of course, he’s trying to still be in charge…. It’s fine, you’ll change that soon. 

Reacher's eyes widen as the vibrations from the wand send jolts of pleasure through his aching cock. He lets out a low groan, his hips bucking involuntarily.

"Fuck, Peaches," he growls, his deeply strained with need. 

"That feels...intense."

The thin fabric of his boxers does little to dull the sensation, the vibrations seeming to penetrate right to his core. His cock throbs, growing even harder as you tease him with the toy.  Laughing evilly. He rolls his eyes at you but lets you continue your little torture session. 

"You're gonna make me bust in my damn underwear if you keep that up”

You smirk and leave it at the base of his cock for a moment 

“Maybe that’s what I want… maybe I wanna see you cream your pants like a lovesick bitch.” 

His chest heaves with ragged breaths, his abs flexing as he fights the urge to thrust into the vibrations. His blue eyes are dark with lust, boring into yours with an intensity that makes you shiver. 

“You’re treading on thin ice, Y/N” 

“It’s on the lowest setting you big baby” 

You turn it up a notch, stroking his cock slowly with it through his underwear, you lick your lips when you notice the wet patch of precum on the front of them. You lean forward and lick it, your tongue dragging along his boxers as you moan softly. 

Reacher lets out a guttural moan as you turn up the intensity of the vibrations, the toy sending shockwaves of pleasure through his hard cock. His hips buck involuntarily, seeking more of that delicious friction. 

Suddenly these stupid little restraints feel like metal shackles as he fights the urge to rip them off and grab you to pull you down on his throbbing cock. 

His breath hitches as your tongue drags along the outline of his shaft. The sensation is driving him up the damn wall, and he can't help but thrust his hips forward, seeking more of that wet heat.

"C'mon, Peaches baby, don't tease me," he all but pleads, his blue eyes staring into yours with a level of intensity that makes a delightful shiver run down your spine. 

"Wanna feel that sweet little mouth on my cock. Wanna fuck that pretty face till you choke on it." 

He doesn’t miss the way you squeeze your thighs together. 

“I like it when you do that, fuck my face”

Your cheeks flush as you suck on his cock through his underwear. It’s just enough to keep him on the edge but he can’t feel your mouth with his underwear in the way as much as he desperately fucking wants to 

He gasps as your hot mouth envelops his cock through the thin fabric of his boxers, the vibrations of the wand adding to the intense pleasure. His hips buck upward, seeking more of that wet heat, but the stupid freaking barrier of his underwear keeps him from feeling your lips directly on his skin.

"Fuck, baby, that's it," he growls, his voice deeply strained with need. "Suck that cock like you mean it. Gonna fuck your pretty face till you're gasping for air."

He watches you through heavily-lidded eyes, drinking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and the way you squeeze your thighs together again. It turns him on that much more knowing you’re enjoying this just as much as he is, he can hardly stand it anymore. 

"You're killing me here, Peaches. This what you wanted? Reducing me to a moaning mess while I cum in my pants??” 

“It’s exactly what I wanted”

You purr seductively as you keep sucking him through his underwear. The front of his boxers are soaked in his precum and your spit as you put the vibrator on his balls and leave it there. 

Reacher's body tenses, his muscles straining to not rip those wimpy little tinsel restraints as your words push him to the brink. The vibrations from the wand buzzing against his balls, the wet heat of your mouth on his soaked boxers, it’s almost too much to bear.

"Fuck, baby, you're gonna make me cum" he moans, his deep voice strained with desperation. 

He bucks his hips, grinding his throbbing cock against your face, smearing his precum and your spit across your cheeks. The scent of his arousal fills the air, musky and strong.

"C'mon, darlin', don't stop," he pleads, sending a shock straight down to your core. "Wanna see that pretty face covered in my cum. Wanna mark you as mine."

His chest heaves with each ragged breath, his abs flexing as he fights the overwhelming urge to cum. 

"Gonna- fuck...baby," he pants, his voice barely above a whisper. "Gonna cum for you"

With an animalistic moan, his cock pulses, spurting thick ropes of cum into his boxers. The fabric turns warm and wet as he empties himself, his hips jerking wildly.

You pull his messy boxers down as he comes down from his high and scoop up his cum rubbing it over your pussy as you finger yourself, rubbing fast little circles over your clit. You wanted him to finish first, wanted that moment to be about him, but now you want load after load from him.

“Fuck baby you did so good” you pant softly as you touch yourself, your head falling backward as you roll your hips against your fingers “So so good” 

"You're so fuckin’ hot," he watches you with wide eyes, his deep voice teeming with a new growing desire. 

"Playing with yourself like that, rubbing my cum all over your sweet little pussy."

Even if he’s just cum, his cock twitches, already starting to harden again at the dirty show in front of him. The tinsel restraints dig into his wrists as he tugs at them, desperate to touch you, to feel your wet heat around him.

Reacher's hips buck again, his half-hard cock sliding against his stomach, smearing his cum over his torso. 

"I just wanna fill you up, baby. Wanna pump you full of my seed till it's dripping down your thighs."

He licks his lips, his gaze fixed on your fingers as they work your clit. 

"You want that, don't you? Want me to fuck you senseless, make you cum on my cock over and over again."

You swirl your fingers through the messy cum, spreading it all over your pussy as you listen to him try to convince you to finally ride him.

“I don’t know… maybe.. maybe I want something else first… like, your mouth?”

His eyes light up at your hesitant little suggestion, he can work with that, fuck can he work with it. 

“That sounds good to me sugar, I’ll eat that pretty little pussy until I’m suffocating and you’re screaming” 

His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he watches your fingers keep working, the little cogs in your brain turning. He can’t help imagining the taste of your arousal mixed with his cum. 

"Come on Peaches, perfectly good seat right here just waitin’ for you” 

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You climb over his torso, hesitating for just a second as you settle on his face, his head securely between your thighs. You roll your hips against his lips for a moment, letting your head fall backward slowly as you moan. You grab the headboard, thighs shaking as you press your forehead against the headboard.

“Ooh my god” You mumble softly, giggling a little as you grind against his face “Holy shit” 

He’s had enough of playing good for you as he snaps the tinsel and grabs your hips, pulling you down harder against his mouth. 

You shriek and grip the headboard as he laps at you eagerly, his tongue dipping deep inside you. 

“Fuck you taste so damn good” He moans, His voice muffled by your body. 

"Gonna eat this sweet little cunt till you're screaming."

His tongue swirls around your clit, flicking your sensitive nub as he sucks it between his lips.

His nose nestles in between your lips as he buries his face deeper, inhaling your musky scent. He licks and sucks at your pussy, his tongue diving as deep as it can go, trying to reach your womb.

He seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard. At the same time, he slides a finger into your tight hole, pumping it in and out as he finger-fucks you.

Reacher adds a second finger, stretching you open as he curls them up to rub that spongy spot his fingers reach so perfectly. He can feel your walls fluttering around his digits, your arousal dripping down his chin.

"That's it, baby," he growls "Cum for me. Wanna taste that sweet honey on my tongue."

Your body falls apart as you cum on his tongue, grinding against him wildly, your hips rolling, you know he can take it. You know that he wants to take it. You scream his name, gripping the headboard with all your strength as you cum in his mouth, splashing down his chin and soaking the sheets. He keeps his fingers pumping in and out until you fall off of him onto the bed, your body shaking as you pant into the pillows. 

He reaches down, stroking his aching cock a few times to coat it in your mixed fluids. Then he lines himself up with your entrance, the head of his cock nudging slick folds.

"Ready for me, darlin'?" he asks, his voice a low growl.

You shake your head no, unable to even answer him you’re so overwhelmed by the force of your orgasm. 

“Oh… that’s too bad” With that, he thrusts forward, burying himself to the hilt in your tight heat. You both moan loudly at the sudden fullness and the way you clamp around his cock like a vice. 

He sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with powerful strokes. The headboard slams against the wall with each thrust, the vulgar sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

“Look so pretty when you’re crying” He pants as the overstimulated tears fall down your cheeks, enjoying the dazed look in your eyes.

He grips your hips bruisingly tight, his fingers digging into your soft curves as he pulls you down on his cock over and over. He leans down to capture one of your nipples between his teeth, biting and sucking at the sensitive bud, thoroughly enjoying the way you keen loudly and scratch at his shoulders. His other hand snakes up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

“That’s my good girl, so willing to be fucked raw” He pistons his hips faster, the bed creaking beneath you as he fucks you into the mattress. His balls slap against your ass with each powerful thrust, stretching you wide with each hit to your cervix. 

With a guttural moan, he pushes himself inside you all the way to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he fills you with his hot seed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place as he empties himself deep inside your womb.

“Jesus fucking Christ” He pants heavily, collapsing on top of you, he thrusts shallowly as you cum again, falling apart underneath him messily. He buries his face in your shoulder, kissing your neck gently as he keeps his weight on you. Sure he’s crushing you but he’s so big and warm and you’re so delirious you don’t give a fuck. 

“You did so good” Reacher shifts slightly, mindful of his softening cock still buried inside you. He rolls you both over so you’re sprawled on top of him, your head resting on his chest. His large hands splay across your back, one dipping lower to cup your ass possessively.

“You okay?” he murmurs, his fingers tracing little patterns on your skin and you nod slowly, curling into him more. He nuzzles into your hair, breathing in your scent, and smiles

“You gonna say anything? Miss hearin’ that cute little voice of yours” 

You look at him, your chin resting on his chest and he smirks 

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk for a week” 

He squeezes your ass in his hands, jiggling it a little “Mmmhm that was the goal I had in mind… make sure you can’t run from me” 

Your mouth drops and you swat at his chest as he snickers and pulls the blankets over you two.

“You know what this means right?” 

“Nuh huh” You shake your head and he grins absolutely wickedly, sending a nervous shiver down your spine.

“It’s my turn to tie you up next time” 

[gonnadafturpunk]

I was wondering if you can write a Bumblebee(B-127) x Cybertronians!reader, where B-127 was staring at trash burning, and the reader fell out of the trash chute, and he saves the reader just in time before the reader went in the fire, and we help him build Steve?

AWHHH RAHHH I LOVE I LOVE HIMMM (I’m in my bumblebee onesie as we speak)

I LOVE ITTY IGHHFKDSKSKDKFKFKFIGIG

B-127 x cybertronian! Reader

Spoilers for Transformers One if you haven’t seen it. 

gnreader, mentions death, injuries, and angst, not edited.

"I don't want to go back up there, anyway..."

I listened to Chihiro and Ocean Eyes while making this lol.  

You were a miner. A very low-ranking miner. 

You had tried to be happy. Sometimes it didn't work.

You always ended up frowning, doing your job.

You had a [Preferred paint color] paint job and were always covered in scratches or dirt. It was rough. It was so rough. 

You were always tired, always looking pitiful. You didn’t know why you did. You were working towards saving Cybertron. 

You weren’t treated with much respect. You were always being taken advantage of. By anyone. The bots who worked aside you, your superiors, everyone. It seems cliche, but it does.

Doesn’t everyone get stepped on, especially in this environment? Well, you could argue yes, but it sure was damn different.  

You already had a dangerous job, and felt so invisible and treated with such disregard. You were by yourself, always by yourself. 

Sometimes, on little breaks, you thought to yourself. You thought to yourself a lot; Too much for a little ol’ bot with a low-ranked job. It was hard to find your reason in life and who you were. 

 Sometimes you’d question why you had no cog or were not of high rank. You’d question why you even had to mine for Energon anyway. Why were you always mining for it? It was hours on end.

No sleep sometimes. Barely, if you’re lucky. 

One day, you were working on putting packages and boxes together to send to the other bots to put on the transport.

You were leaning over the edge of the conveyor belt, even though you shouldn't have, to make sure some of the packages were sealed correctly. It is true that some slack and rush, and don't even check if it's right or corrected.

something had happened in which all the bots had to evacuate for something.

You tried getting up from leaning over the edge, but instead, you got shoved and pushed.

You had fallen in. It happened so fast. It's like you fell sideways but you went downward.

You or anybody else didn't have time to react. Did they even care? Probably not. Maybe some did.

You hit the side of your helm and it felt like you blacked out. You blacked out on what seemed like the conveyor belt to the...To the trash chute!?

You were barely even conscious. You really just look up and then close your eyes. You couldn't think much about anything. All of this happened too fast. You felt a cold liquid run down your face (do they even bleed? or. would I say leak?)

That's really beside the fact.

You did hear "Oh my primus," a couple times from the bots above you, but really it was kinda late to grab you or get anyone to save you.

Now to B now!

Bumblebee was simply watching trash. Trash that goes into the burner.

He didn't really get the point, but at least he could keep this assignment.

Sure he felt lonely, but again, it wasn't like he didn't fully enjoy his job. He could just hang by himself all day.

All B was was just a bot who was by himself a lot. All the time. No one even came down there.

Yeah, sometimes he wanted someone who he could talk to, or hang out with. It felt like hell. Maybe it was. I mean he did work near the trash burner on one of the lowest levels. It might as well be.

Even trying to be optimistic, he would find himself frowning at the trash like this.

( LMAO THIS POOR BABY)

Anyway, he really did try to stay as sane as he could.

when he heard a sound coming from the trash chute, he couldn't help but wonder what it could possibly be.

"Do they just send anything down here now?" he went.

"It can barely fit down the chute," he continued, getting closer to it.

Once whatever was in the chute got close to the end, it came down fast.

With a BANG, you fall on the conveyor belt, limp.

"Oh my Primus, it's another bot!" he said, quickly acting, pulling your limp frame off of the conveyor belt before you could reach the trash. He stopped the machine and placed you on the ground.

You look kinda conscious but definitely not responsive.

He took off his protective helmet and tried to figure out your situation.

"Are you alright?" He tries to speak to you.

All you could do was move your eyes. Little by little you realize you were on the ground.

"Do you need help?" He asked again, panicking, especially after realizing you had a cut or a bruise of some sort on your helm.

"Try getting up, maybe I could help you if you get Energon running through you again," he suggested.

You blink a couple times.

You try to recognize where you are. You couldn't Though, was that really the most of your worries. You fell into the conveyor belt and almost died for crying out loud.

You groan and put a servo on your helm as you get up slowly.

You rub your face plate and look back at it. Dirt, dust, and-- shit you're leaking.

You put your servo back and down and look around. Everything through your optics felt so saturated. It felt not normal. You hadn't even noticed the bot next to you, looking just as concerned for you as you were for yourself.

You could honestly care less about your surroundings or who this other bot was. At least for now. Not in a mean way. You just felt hurt. Your frame felt numb and so did your face plate.

"Y-you fell down the chute..." He began, looking at you.

You rubbed your helm a bit more and looked at him then at where you would've ended up if he didn't do anything.

"Thank you," you said simply.

"My pleasure," he replied.

"I'm guessing don't have many.. uhm options to get back up there..do I?" You asked.

He shook his helm.

"I could help you- with your injury that is. You seemed to have taken a really big fall," he said, grabbing something.

You guess you did. You barely remembered what had happened it had all gone down so quick.

You looked down. Maybe if you hadn't leaned over the edge, none of this would've happened. You were lucky to even still be online.

B looked at you, after grabbing a bandage. He saw you were upset. He couldn't blame you. Maybe you had it good up there.

"Hey, uhh, I never got your name--" He starts, trying to distract you.

You widened your eyes, getting ready to respond.

"Oh, it's Y/N," you began.

You look at him as he gives you the bandage, hoping he'll respond with his name back.

"Well, Y/N, I'm B-127, I work here at this very level...Just me..." he says smiling...Kinda.

You give a weak smile. He seemed sweet. And alone. Just like you.

"I worked as a low-rank miner who packaged boxes for transport," you go on. "Not so different from picking out valuable stuff from scrap, and watching trash." you finish.

"Looks like I'm stuck down here, but at least you seem cool," you say smiling a little more.

He smiles back sitting with you. He was pretty happy. You were a person he could talk to.

"At least we'll have one another," he says.

"It's better than what my life was up there." You say, thinking.

"I'd rather be down here than be up there," you continue.

After a couple of days, a bot couldn't tell if you guys had been friends all your life or if you guys met a couple days prior.

It was funny because, after about a month, you guys decided to build a buddy!

You decided to name him Steve :3

After building Steve, you had wanted to make a mask just like B's.

"I made a mask like yours, B. Isn't it hella badass? I got it from you," you laugh.

He definitely calls himself Badass after that

(that's where he got the name from!)

You both are glad you found each other when you guys did. You both needed it.

silly ahh alien LMAO

-Lena

[jon-sedai]

Randomly thinking about grrm’s deconstruction of knighthood in asoiaf and how ironic it is that the Night’s Watch - an organization known to be half full of murderers, rapists, thieves, and all sorts of criminals - is essentially in charge of defending all of humanity when shit hits the fan. Like westeros just scrambled ‘the lowest of the low’ together into a penal colony in the far north and is totally fine depending on them for their survival; though tbf, i guess part of it has to do with expecting these societal ‘others’ to give their not so valuable lives for the good of the realm, who really cares if they live or die because they’re out of sight and out of mind. And it’s kinda funny too when we factor in the kingsguard because it’s a far more respected institution than the NW presently, but it too has its fair share of monsters. Quite a few men of the kingsguard have been morally bankrupt individuals, and we even see how the men of the KG sometimes forget other people they should be responsible for because their one priority is the king (we see what happens when you put the people of the realm first and then are ostracized by it a la Jaime tho there’s more to it). Missing the forest for the tree is something both institutions share, making them quite similar. So it’s interesting how grrm flips the fantasy classic of the black knight vs the white knight. The black knight is often anti-heroic, if not straight up villainous, and is often made to be diametrically opposed to the valiant and ever good white knight. But asoiaf has white and black knights both be shown of great virtue and great vice. The white knights in this story really are no better than the black knights. I’d love to see how these two entities could intersect, i.e., what happens when a white knight eventually changes his cloak for a black one (*cough* Jaime *cough*) and how that falls into grrm’s deconstruction of the romance of chivalry, the extent of personal heroism, and perceived knightly virtue. Welp I don’t even know what point I’m trying to make anymore, I just wanted to talk about the KG and the NW because they’re really cool.

[ilikelookingatthings]

A comment from Youtube in regards to Chloe and her Spiral that I wrote and liked.

Honestly, whats more frusterating is Chloe didn't even choose to side with hawkmoth just to get powers. Chloe had agreed, through reluctantly, that she couldn't be queen bee anymore when ladybug finally told her (after Sabrina went miraculer in defense of Chloe) about how since hawkmoth knew her identity that to avoid being targeted she couldn't be queen bee and that it could keep pollen safe as well. Only for chloe to be targeted directly anyways!

Hawkmoth akumatizing her parents and directly TELLING her that he chose to target them because of Chloe...implying he could do it again at any other time!...and then having no way to defend herself, she then went to contact ladybug via signal where she was literally cornered by the bad guys on a roof where they cut off the power to her signal...no way to defend herself or think ladybug would come to her rescue.

Where then hawkmoth, a villian who hardly ever comes out of hiding and a manipulator, dug into her insecurities after making her feel isolated, alone....just for the kicker being that he had pollen and all the other miraculousess! When Chloe had trusted ladybug to keep pollen safe! If Chloe had said no again she would have been left alone with a most likely angry adult man villian with no way to defend herself and he would have kept the miraculouses! He would have kept pollen because LB had failed to hold up her half of the bargain or protecting pollen! and while I understand thinking 'oh she wants to be queen bee again and is feeling entitled' but she had accepted not being queen bee in the miraculous episode before when she had rejected being akumatized and HAWKMOTH the manipulator who knows her even better than usual cuz she is a life long friend of Adrien's pointed her in that direction to point her stress and blame. Plus she still only agreed only after he freed her parents!

I understand Marinette and others in the show assuming Chloe was just being her entitled self but WE the audience literally WATCHED as she was literally cornered into that decision! Watched as she was sabotaged by a adult villian who knows her well!

Why do we brush off others getting manipulated into agreeing to the powers in their lowest moments but we don't give Chloe some leeway when she was literally put into a stage to be manipulated? is it cuz we can't blame it all on the magic? Even though the whole point is suppoused to be a metaphore for how people are more likely to agree to things when they feel isolated and alone from someone who seems to understand how they feel and is giving them a chance to validate their feelings. Not accidentally imply if your manipulated in real life you should still be blamed since you aren't magically compelled! Gabe didn't just take advantage of a separate situation and someone feeling low here...he SET Chloe up for failure so she wouldn't be able to resist siding with him this time.

Even more! Chloe is bad at communicating and feels like she messed up bad because she sided with hawkmoth and it caused all these side heros to be known!

We KNOW Chloe is aware that people don't like her. We know that being good was hard for Chloe even when she was trying...just for all that effort to go down the toilet by siding with hawkmoth! Not only do alot of fans ignore that Chloe was set up and manipulated but the fan will either agree that chloe was already bad or dismiss that chloe was just sabotaged by the creator later instead of seeing the logic to why she reacted the way she did.

[writingstoraes]

hello! for the ig imagine, can i request charles with a medical student reader? maybe she's in her final year before residency and even though charles has no clue about medic he still tries to help her with studying. thank you!

patient 🩺

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!medstudent!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: whew being a pre med student ngl this fueled my delusions a lil (jk) anyway i hope u like this, anon 🤍 thank you so much for requesting! i also tried to stick with ig posts since its been so long since i did one thats mostly ig posts hehe

about: supportive charles and his future doctor of a girlfriend!

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, isahernaez, franciscagomes, and 21,991 others

yourusername officially on my last hospital duty before graduation! can't believe i have spent 4 tiring yet meaningful years of medical school, still feels unreal. couldn't have done it without the love and support of the people i hold dear to me 🤍

charles_leclerc So proud of you, amoùr ��� Je n'ai jamais douté de toi. I never doubted you

yourusername thanks for being my first patient, baby <3

pascale_leclerc Congratulations, dear! We miss you!

carlossainz55 The group finally has a doctor! That means unlimited recklessness 😎

pierregasly Remember how we always wanted to try riding a bike on the roof

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, arthurleclerc, carlossainz55, and 50,223 others

yourusername a seperate appreciation post for the love of my life — who's witnessed all my lowest lows and highest highs. despite his own busy schedule, he still managed to fetch me from uni/hospital, prepare breakfast for me, and even help me study.

i guess i owe you a ton for all the cancelled dates and postponed plans, charles_leclerc? 💋

ps. the second picture is charles asleep on my shoulder after he helped me study three subjects for a major exam that went on for HOURS. i think i underestimated just how much he loves me :)

carlosluvr GOD i need me a charles right now its bad enough my pre med is killing me

hamiltonmerc Charles out here setting standards ridiculously high there really is just one of him huh 🤨

charles_leclerc Would do anything for you and you know that ❤️ (Honestly got to a point where I memorized some of what you were studying)

carlossainz55 Woah there Mr. Doctor?

charles_leclerc I think I can give you an injection now, mate 😄

carlossainz55 No thanks I still love my life

charles_leclerc

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen, arthurleclerc and 1,445,211 others

charles_leclerc So incredibly lucky to be with someone as intelligent and hardworking as you. I promise to be with you every step of the way in full support and ready to shower you with love ❤️

Kinda afraid of needles but if you need to practice, I'm always available. Wake me up when you need someone to quiz you or make you coffee. I love you even when you're frustrated when you're practicing your sutures.

tagged: yourusername

charlossf23 You're telling me Y/N has Charles and all I got from medical school was anxiety

yourusername still need you when i study for the boards

charles_leclerc Working on the flashcards already, chèrie 😘

supermaxmax THE FLASHCARDS ARE SO REAL

pierregasly Carlos and I are on the roof tell Y/N to bring her medical supplies

yourusername please get down from there

charles_leclerc added to his instagram story!

-------

tagging: @slytherheign

notes: god pre med is hard wish i had someone like charles 😔 i hope you liked this, anon! thank you so much for reading 🤍

[its-alittleobsessed]

Could you imagine being Dean Winchester and constantly sacrificing everything for everyone else. Your food, your freedom, your happiness, and your free will for everyone else and then this guy comes in. This man who isn’t really a man.

He comes in when you’re at your lowest low. When you have succumbed and given your life, your hopes, and your morals to hell and he reaches you and touches you and says. You deserve good things. Means, I will make sure you get good things.

And you don’t believe him at first but then he says, I rebelled, Im hunted. I did it, all of it, for you. And not so much later, I’m doing this for you, Dean. And few years down the line, he gives up an army for you. And his own life a few times. And it gets to the point where you—who prides themselves on never needing anything or believing in anything—start needing him. Start having faith in him.

He stays and you realize that you’ve never had to sacrifice anything for that. For him to stay.

And he—this man who literally fell from the heavens—sacrifices all of it, including heaven, for you to stay.

And it is such a stark contrast to what you’re used to. Such an insane flip of everything you’ve ever known, that you don’t know how to deal with it. You don’t understand, don’t know how to handle it, so you try pushing him away. You yell and say ugly things and, once, (though you didn’t mean to—weren’t entirely yourself) you even hit him. And still. He sees all that bad inside you and all the bad you’ve done and he still. Stays. He still tries to stay.

It messes with your head. Something happens inside of you and you think—you think you might love him.

Maybe it’s all the sacrifices he’s done and the fact that you haven’t been able to match him up to them. But maybe it’s his kindness, too. And he’s funny in a weird—no one gets his humor but you—kind of way. He’s strong and capable. A good listener.

He’s—he’s beautiful, too. Devastatingly so.

He’s good with kids. He gets you. Likes your music and starts singing along to Zepp when its just you two in the car. He’s so much more than what he’s given you (he says the same thing about you) and you don’t deserve him but he doesn’t seem to mind.

It’s the sacrifices that are messing with your head, but maybe it’s just him too. Maybe he’s just everything you’ve ever wanted.

He says you don’t have to sacrifice anything anymore. Not with him. And for the first time since you were a kid—it’s true.

[mechncheese]

Damnit, you've inspired me. Here are my personal HCs for Science Continuity D&D night, please correct me bc I'm curious to see how they line up with mine.

Wheeljack: Likes playing characters that can a) schmoove, and b) deal the big damage. Most likely plays barbarian or fighter, though I think it would be immensely entertaining to see him play a rogue. Biggest detailer of plotlines, second only to Brainstorm. Always brings snacks to share, but tends to make a bit of a mess of the table.

Ratchet: Party healer, but in the "I'm a healer, but... *racks shotgun*" way. Plays a war cleric that hits way harder than it probably should. Consistently forgets about his spell slots unless it's time to heal someone. Trades off being the party face with Percy, but probably has the lowest Charisma score in the whole party.

Perceptor: One word - WIZARD. Amazing at managing his spell slots, always has something hidden useful up his sleeve. Just enough good dice luck to do some absolutely bonkers damage when he pulls out the big spells. Took a few levels in warlock purely for the Eldritch Blast + Spell Sniper combo, which Brainstorm refuses to let him live down.

Jetfire: Immediately strikes me as cleric-coded, but I can also see him playing a druid with low emphasis on wildshaping. Horrible dice luck through no fault of his own. (Brainstorm swapped his dice out with weighted ones, and nobody's caught on yet because Jetfire only uses that set as a player, not as a DM.) Usually the DM, but gets anxious when his players start causing problems on purpose.

Brainstorm: Sorcerer, 100%. Scary effective both in and out of combat. Has absolutely TPK'd the party at least once because he "forgot" to double-check the range on Fireball. Would've multiclassed three levels ago but Jetfire's too nervous of what he might do with that kind of power to allow it. Genuinely a great player to have at the table, but nobody's gonna give him the satisfaction of actually telling him that.

Prowl: World's most lawful neutral Paladin player. Absolute stickler for rules as written, gets upset when one of the other bots "Rule of Cool"s something, which is far too often for his liking. Put all of his non-combat skill points into Intimidation. Banned from DMing after trying to arrest the party in-campaign one time too many.

THESE ARE QUITE SPOT ON HONESTLY, I haven't played dnd in so so long so you'll have to forgive me for my lack of knowledge </3

I love Jetfire being the usual DM, BRAINSTORM WEIGHING HIS PLAYER DICE IS SO FUNNY TO ME he can't ever let this guy win </3 He'd catch on eventually.

Wheeljack would absolutely love to play physically powerful characters, he and Brainstorm probably put on funny character voices. Wheeljack's character would probably also be the first to die, he just keeps putting himself in dangerous situations for the fun of it.

Ratchet forgetting that he has his spellslots.. Someone has to remind him every time. He would also forget his character's alignment and default to his own feelings when making decisions.

"Ratchet would your lawful good character really steal from a marketplace?"

"..No but I would like to do it anyway"

PERCEPTOR IS A WIZARD FAN YES, HE LOVES MAGIC AND SPELLS ! I think he gets super into the story of a campaign (especially when Brainstorm is the DM). If Perceptor were a DM he would put the party into the equivalent of an escape room and it would take at least 2-3 sessions to solve. Perceptor probably has a custom dice set.

Brainstorm not being allowed to multi-class omg, the one time Jetfire let him, Brainstorm single-handedly hijacked the campaign and breezed through everything the DM threw at him (but you have to admit it was incredibly funny) I think he also makes a really good DM, crafts narratives so masterful it's probably moved one of them to near tears. He has much more fun as a player though so he doesn't DM too often.

Prowl.. NO FUN ALLOWED.. Things get a little scary with him when he's a player and he decides to just intimidate and sometimes even flat out torture npcs (and by extension the DM) for plot related information. I think he also slips out of character a lot when he's a player and he just defaults to himself.

[cowboycannibalism]

Bullet with Butterfly Wings, Smashing Pumpkins// Saw 2004// Caged Rat, Soul Asylum// The Jig Is Up, Ice Nine Kills// Rats!Rats!Rats!, Deftones// Hatchet, Movements

I know there's heavy association of Adam with the dog motif (which I love) but I swear I've heard Bullet with Butterfly Wings on the radio way too many times during the last month while thinking about Saw for it to be a coincidence

Rats symbolize impoverishment, disease, the lowest of low.

"He's not a cop. He's a bottom feeder, just like you."

Jigsaw calls him angry and apathetic, and we'll be honest here, he is on the surface. He calls his apartment a shithole, he knows his job is shitty but it keeps him fed, and he's just dragging himself through life because he's pretty much already convinced himself this is as good as its going to get.

But here's the other thing about rats: they will do anything to try to survive. Sometimes, that means just doing what they've been conditioned to do by the world around them.

Have you ever seen a rat backed into a corner? or stuck in a trap? they will scream and thrash violently to try and free themselves.

From the moment he wakes up in the tub, Adam is moving. Throughout the movie, he has a hard time staying still, trying to escape, trying to survive. He is loud and frantic. Even though he is pessimistic about life, he wants to live.

also, to swing back around to the Smashing Pumpkins lyrics in particular, I thought a lot about how Adam mentions his ex, thinking he was "too angry." If you've dug into that song a little, it's interpreted in a lot of ways but a common one is oppression and being stuck in a situation/world where you're aware of escape but incapable of it. Adam knows he should appreciate life more, but what's the point when he lives the way that he does and nothing seems to ever get better? Anger feels like the only option and honestly sometimes it is.

(not to get too political or whatever, but if we never get angry enough to do anything, nothing will ever change. Don't let anyone tell you that emotions don't belong in politics/social issues because that's a fucking stupid take.)

[avelera]

I just finished watching "Vinland Saga" with my partner and I have to say I was wildly impressed with the writing. It made so many bold choices and even when the on-screen stakes and setting were at their lowest: low power levels, low resource levels, low political importance, etc., the pacing and tension of each episode remained incredibly high, which as a writer is so, so hard to do.

A few other things that impressed me about Vinland Sage:

I was wildly impressed by the boldness of a story that's ostensibly about the Viking Age taking such a firm stance against "fun" and "excitement" of violence. It never wavers. It never says violence is ok. Quite the opposite, it is a story about those who feel haunted and trapped by the constant turmoil and violence of the Viking Age, and how they imagine a better world free of these societal curses that seem so inescapable in their time.

For a shounen or even seinen style anime, to me it's wildly impressive to basically look at an entire genre that is so couched in the excitement of adventure and violence and say, "No. This is not laudable, this is not good, this is not something to strive for. Hurting people is not good, violence is never justified, you have no enemies." Especially when so much of escapist action/adventure fantasies are based in the imagined thrill of using violence to strike down your enemies, this story wholly rejects the notion that there's anything noble or admirable in such a life.

The strong moral stance of the story was reminiscent to me of Terry Pratchett's Discworld. Though Vinland Saga doesn't have Pratchett's humor, there is a sense in both of a creator who has an absolutely rock-solid, well-thought out sense of morality that never wavers and permeates the entire story. There's something soothing about being in the hands of a storyteller who knows 100% where their moral stance lies, what points they are making, and what message they want to convey, and then does so in an expert manner. I hesitate to say it was never "preachy" but I think it conveyed its message so strongly that the moments where it reiterated its message never felt like being spoken down to or preached to. Quite the contrary, the moments when the story indulged in its message, when it all but looked directly at the camera and said, "Violence is wrong. Look at the suffering it causes. Look at how much better the world could be if we all showed one another mercy and care," were some of the most powerful and moving.

Finally, I was incredibly impressed by the realism and sense of knowledge it had about the history it indulged in. Not only did Vinland Saga show a knowledge of the historic Viking Age, but, it wasn't slavishly devoted to realism. When it stepped away from exact realism to instead show incredible people doing incredible things, it did so in a way that was in line with the Viking Sagas of the day. Men who are twice as tall as any other man! Men who can hear across miles of distance! A man who moves so fast you can barely see him! Even when it indulged in these sort of Shounen tropes of borderline-magical fighters, it still felt like we were in the story of a Saga, because the departure from realism were so in line with what stories from those years were like.

Yet, even when we were indulging in the incredible fighters of the story, there's a sense of horror to it. Sure, it's great to be a warrior if you're 8' feet tall, wealthy, privileged, gifted, and well-trained, but you will still lose limbs and body parts in battle. One fight can leave you permanently maimed. And this is not a society that does a good job taking care of its most vulnerable. Your fortunes can turn from lord to slave in the blink of an eye. You can be on the top of the world one minute and discarded the next if you're not strong enough, and there's a horror to that. It takes exceptional people to look out for those most in need, indeed, those who are anything less than possessing peak power and privilege, and those people are more remarkable than the privileged warriors who stomp on others without a care in the world, until they too are laid low and realize how horrifically unfair their world can be. There's such a strong moral sensibility to these moments, I was really in awe of how unwavering it was, this dedication to highlighting the dignity of people, how they deserve to be treated with dignity, oftentimes by showing how horrific, how wrong, how unfair it is when that dignity is stripped away.

[archangeldyke-all]

Reader using the power of seduction to get her way? She wants pick the show they watch tonight but Sevika fights her on it? Sloppy head.

She wants to get Sevika out the house to come run errands with her on a busy Sunday morning? Sloppy Top.

She wants Sevika to do the dishes? Reader is shoving her hands down her wife’s pants.

😌🤗🙏🏽

i love this so muchhh

men and minors dni

sevika's whipped for you. she's past the point of even trying to deny it. she's not really sure what happened to her, or when her womanizing ways were traded in for a singular obsession with you-- but it's where she finds herself now.

she wouldn't trade it for the world.

that doesn't mean it's not a little embarassing for sevika how quickly she folds for you.

like a week ago. she'd had plans she'd been looking forward to all fucking week to go on a bar crawl with a few of the crew members. and then she'd gotten home, and you'd pouted when she told you her plans.

"sorry baby, the boys are already waiting for me at the last drop." she grunted as you wrapped your arms around her.

"do you have to go?" you whined, kissing against her neck. "i've got a bubble bath drawn up. you could join me, spend the night in, split a nice bottle of wine..." you trailed off, sucking a hickey into her neck.

she didn't smack your hands away when they began unbuttoning her top. and she wasn't surprised in the slightest to find herself texting the groupchat that she couldn't make it. after all, you're way more fun than her friends.

that wasn't the most embarrassing time you've seduced her into your plans, though. not even close.

just three days ago, she'd been heading out to go to the gym.

"bye babe!" she called over her shoulder.

you stuck your head out of the bathroom. "where're you goin'?" you asked, a little whine in your voice. she froze, her hand hovering above the handle.

"the gym, why?"

you pouted. "oh, damn."

"what?"

"no, don't worry, go have fun." you promied her, waving it off.

sevika wasn't satisfied, though. "what?" she asked again. you just shrugged.

"wanted to watch that movie with you." you pouted. "thought we could have a movie night tonight since it's raining."

sevika tried to stay strong, she really did, but then you walked out of the bathroom wearing the shortest pajama shorts you own.

they shouldn't even count as shorts-- they're more like panties.

her grip on the handle tightened so hard she was certain she crushed it-- and all the thoughts of her work-out flew out of her mind. she gulped.

"'s long as you let me fuck you when i get bored." she mumbled as she started walking toward the couch. you just giggled and sat down on her lap, kissing her cheek.

"'s long as you face me toward the tv." you shrugged.

and now, sevika's sure she's reached a new low.

you've got her in the crawlspace under your porch, a flashlight in one hand and a shoe box in the other. why? because you 'think you heard a crying animal.'

sevika wanted you to leave it and let it die. "i'll scoop it out if it starts stinking, but we should just let nature do it's thing, babe."

"sevika!" you gasped. "that's horrible!"

she wasn't going to budge. not a bit. not when you pouted, not when you started throwing crumbs through the slats of your porch to feed the pathetic little creature, not even when you tried crawling under yourself.

but then, you'd cornered her inside your house, your tits on full display in one of your lowest cut tops. sevika knew she'd be under the porch before you could even start talking.

"sevika?" you asked sweetly, blinking your eyelashes up at her. she gulped, tried to pry her eyes away from your cleavage. "baby, please can you go under and see what's going on? i promise, once we get it out, whatever it is, we'll give it some food and water and put it in a bush back where it belongs. i just think it's stuck on something, and it's crying so much i can't ignore the poor thi--"

"you're fucking evil, you know." she cut you off. you had to bite back a smirk.

"what do you mean?" you asked

"you think i don't know you're trying to trick me right now babe?" she asked, pointing at your tits. "you think i didn't notice your sudden wardrobe change?"

you pouted. "so is that a no?"

"fuck! i'll fuckin' save the fuckin' animal, for fuck's sake, are you happy?" she asked, stroming to the utility closet to get her supplies.

you just giggled and followed after her, kissing her cheek. "and once you're done, you're gonna ride my face as a reward." you whispered against her cheek.

and now she's covered in mud, rescuing a fucking mouse from where it's been trapped in a sewer pipe. you're watching from the opening, holding a flashlight over her shoulder to help her light the way.

"you did it!" you squeal, jumping up and down. sevika grunts, turning on her belly to start crawling out. she's not gentle with the shoebox as she shoves it out from under the porch, but the fucking rat will be fine. you help her stand when she reaches the opening, and then pull her down for a long, slobbery kiss. all of her complaints and anger melts the second you do. "thank you, baby. really." you whipser.

sevika huffs. "i'm gonna go shower. you're gonna give the fuckin' rat a grape and set it free. then, i'm gettin' my reward." she smacks your ass, then turns to run in the house.

you giggle and call after her. "sounds good babe, i'll meet you in the bedroom. you want me to keep the slutty shirt on or...?"

sevika freezes on the porch, considers her options, then turns around to look at your tits in the nearly-transparent white shirt, and all the mud on her body is worth it for that view. she grins. "keep it on."

you giggle, nod, and blow her a kiss.

yeah, she thinks as she stumbles inside, stripping her muddy clothes off. she doesn't mind being whipped for you.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents

[psiroller]

OkOk, so I know you’re currently in the middle of writing who knows how many more dunmeshi fics, but have you considered Tall-man x Tall-man Chillchuck and Laios yet? Maybe for a quick little drabble or something? I feel like that could go somewhere maybe.. If not this is just me rambling 😔, so feel free to ramble back and have a good day <3

oh anon. you found me juuust as i was raring up to procrastinate. you are in luck. CHILAIOS/656 WORDS/TALLCHUCKXLAIOS/CONSIDER THIS BREAK THE LOCK CANON

“Okay,” Chilchuck said, his voice deeper and rougher than Laios was used to. “What’re you staring at?”

Laios blinked. “You, obviously.”

“But aren’t you used to this shit yet? Do I look different now that you’ve changed back?”

Laios cocked his head. The changeling effect had worn off for Laios a few hours ago, but Chilchuck was still a tallman. Maybe because he was lower to the ground, he got a larger payload? Laios had made extra sure they’d scrubbed everything off him, so it was only a matter of time. Laios didn’t like to think about the possibility Chilchuck never changing back, but with his taller stature returned he could properly appreciate the differences. Chilchuck loomed over Laios as a dwarf and was still taller than him now. His cheekbones were higher, his face stretched along a taller jaw, stubble emerging so soon after a morning shave. Yet, besides the slightly sunken and tired look, Chilchuck’s eyes were still the same; pitch dark in low light, amber-brown in front of the fire, intense when met.

“You do,” Laios said, “but you don’t. I keep noticing little things.”

A blush rose on Chilchuck’s gaunt face, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Well, don’t get too invested. It’s gonna wear off soon.” He rubbed the pressure point on his temple. “Hopefully.”

“It will,” Laios assured him, and scooted closer. “But it’s fascinating… I wonder how the changeling spores decide what form to change someone into?”

“I guess whatever’s funniest,” Chilchuck said with a wry grin. “You saw Izutsumi.”

“I don’t think you’re funny looking, though,” Laios frowned, his eyebrows pinching together. Chilchuck pshawed at him and put a hand on his face when he got close. Laios pushed against it and wriggled, an over-affectionate dog held at bay.

“It’s supposed to make me look freakish to everyone else, so I die alone, right?” Chilchuck said. “Half-foot to tall-man makes sense. I’m twice the size of the biggest guy in my family. Imagine if I came home to my kids like this when they were young.”

He frowned at that, the dark humor sucked out of it by frank darkness. “And an elf to a half-foot,” he went on, trying to wipe the annoying concern off Laios’ face, “That’s gotta be a nightmare. We’re the lowest of the low to them, right?”

“Chilchuck.”

Laios was back in Chilchuck’s space, having evaded his hand, or Chilchuck had let him. It didn’t matter. Chilchuck’s hand found Laios’ shoulder but he didn’t shove. Chilchuck hated being observed so closely, but he made endless exceptions for Laios.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. Chilchuck honked out a laugh. “I’m serious!” Laios barked, and Chilchuck petered out. “I mean it, Chil.”

Chilchuck rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s a shame, since you’re never gonna see this face again.”

Laios held his face and turned Chilchuck to face him, to kiss him. Their faces fit together unevenly even though they were the same size now. Laios scratched his fingers through Chilchuck’s stubble and nuzzled their noses together, did that creepy thing where he opened his eyes to watch Chilchuck as they kissed that always drove him crazy. Laios reached up to touch Chilchuck’s ear, finding a nick in his ear that Marcille could never fully heal all the way, and Chilchuck grumbled as he felt—something like it, it was doing something for him, but maddeningly dull compared to his memory.

“That’s just it, Chil,” Laios breathed. “Seeing you like this, as cool as it is…” he grinned sadly. “I miss you as you are.”

When Laios brought up his other hand to cup Chil’s head, there was a rush of something electric. As he drifted back into reality, he was engulfed in Laios’ warm shadow, and they couldn’t easily interlock their hands. Chilchuck gripped the broad gap between Laios’ middle and ring fingers, and thanked the stupid mushrooms for letting them fit together properly again.

[s0uth3park]

Some of my random SP headcanons:

This is a long one.

Pt 2

Cartman just will never learn how to drive. Ever. He knows he has other people to ferry him around.

In a similar vein, when that time rolls around (teenhood), Kenny legally can’t drive but he can drive. He just doesn’t have a licence. This persists until much later in life when he can financially support himself.

Stan begged/bribed Cartman to not harass Red for being a daywalker to keep the peace in his and Wendy’s relationship.

Whenever Wendy and Cartman need to sit down to talk out some sort of dispute, they do it over a pack of Oreo’s. They call this Oreo Time.

Kenny and Cartman play GTA together a lot.

Heidi is part Jewish on her mother’s side.

Cartman’s natural eye colour is brown. He has blue eyes, now.

Cartman is short by the time he’s fully grown (probably because of his weight), and has naturally brown hair and blue eyes. Kenny is the opposite, with blond hair and blue eyes, and is naturally Cartman’s favourite.

Cartman’s coat is plain red flannel (it’s the closest thing to fuzzy felt we can get), Stan’s is canvas, Kyle’s is tarpoon cloth, and Kenny’s is synthetic material (it’s like that smooth thin material that makes a high pitched whirry noise when you scratch it?? Cannot find the specific name for the life of me).

Tweek and Butters are cousins. Either through both of their mothers or through Butters’ dad and Tweek’s mom. Let me know which one you prefer.

Craig and Cartman’s hats are from the same store / brand.

Cartman and Kyle wear opposite colours on opposite pieces of clothing (is this a headcanon or observation? Who knows, I just want to point it out). Kyle has a green hat, contrasting Cartman’s red coat. Cartman has a (primarily) blue hat, contrasting Kyle’s orange coat. Kyle’s original gold-yellow t-shirt also compliments Cartman’s blue t-shirt, and pairs with Cartman’s yellow puff, brim, and gloves.

Cartman sometimes hums the Dreidal song to himself. Rarely will he sing it.

Carol and Stuart put Kenny in a separate room to Kevin because they didn’t anticipate a third kid. When Karen came along, they didn’t bother to displace one of them, so just stuck her in with one of them (Kevin) at random.

Kenny carries the gene for red hair.

Either (or both) Laura and Thomas have brown eyes. This is why Craig has black hair. (Relying on a quick google search for this one).

If Stan looks a lot like Randy as he gets older, right down to the eyes, Shelley looks like Sharon, but with Randy’s eyes.

Stan sometimes feels like the outsider in the group because not only do the other three hold biological keepsakes of the others (Kenny’s eyes –> Cartman; Cartman’s kidney –> Kyle), Kyle and Kenny (K’s) both wear the same shade of orange, and all three are called by unvoiced guttural (“kuh”) vocatives. He’s just Stan. He and Kenny have the same last initial, though.

Out of all the moms, Mrs. Tweek has the biggest tits. I’m sorry I don’t make these rules.

She and Richard fuck like rabbits too I think

While there’s a massive gap between how Stan is viewed and how Cartman is viewed, but out of Stan’s Gang, Stan is held in the lowest esteem just after Cartman. Wendy and his looks boost his popularity a bit, but it’s still rather low.

Kenny is held in the highest esteem by the way, because people know he just joins the guys and doesn’t really instigate.

Craig has alexithymia.

Clyde picked up some mannerisms, like speaking with little affect, from Craig.

Clyde was a mommy’s boy, but Betsy was always rather eccentric and pedantic.

I’m not sold on this but I have thought about Betsy having PCOS.

Maybe I’m biased but I like to think that if Clyde outright said the words “I don’t like Janice and I don’t want her in this house” / “I’m not ready for a stepmom”, I think Roger would adhere. Probably just me being biased.

Sharon hates being filmed, and if she sees either a video or photo of her she will immediately pat her hair and say “oh look at my hair there” or touch her face and go “oh my, I look godawful in that”.

Cartman flexes his ability to eat bacon on Kyle a lot.

Craig has a fear of dressing Stripe up in costumes. Tweek has suggested it, but Craig shot it down immediately.

Wonder Tweek’s costume is from Craig’s closet, and the reason his is shit is because he was too busy helping Tweek’s with his because Tweek found organising his own costume too stressful.

Randy taught Kenny how to swim in Kyle’s backyard blow up paddling pool.

Cartman is a weak ass swimmer.

[blitzwhore]

I really really hope we get to see how Blitz and Millie met.

She's always so lenient with him when he oversteps her and Moxxie's boundaries, always so chill around Blitz no matter how unhinged he gets. And the more I rewatch the show, the more I feel like the reason she's so chill might be she knows things about Blitz the others (and maybe even we the audience) don't.

It makes sense that the way they met affects how she sees him, too, because we already know how the way Moxxie and Loona met Blitz impacted their relationships. Moxxie was at his lowest point in life, with no friends, family or partner he could trust; a victim of abuse and a member of a mafia he knew nobody outside of. And in prison, on top of it all. And just when he was about to give into despair, Blitz showed him sympathy and took him under his wing. So now, even though they bicker and get on each other's nerves, Moxxie does show that he appreciates Blitz (for example, in Truth Seekers after their bad trips). The same is true for Loona, who everyone had given up on, but who Blitz took in as well. Even if she complains about his displays of affection, she constantly gives him small smiles and softens around him, and takes care of him, like after Bee's party.

From what we know, Millie had a pretty good family life before she joined IMP. Unlike the rest of the IMP crew, she doesn't seem to have a horribly traumatic past. So, while there could be more that we don't know, it doesn't seem likely that her appreciation toward Blitz comes from him taking her under his wing when she was at a low point, the way he did Loona and Moxxie.

So I can't help but wonder if the opposite could be true. If maybe she met Blitz at a low point in his life—low enough that he couldn't keep his facade around her. There are theories going around that Millie could've been Loona's babysitter (the one Blitz mentions when he meets Moxxie). I don't know if it'll turn out that way, but I do like the mental image of Millie meeting Blitz at the very beginning of his parenting journey, desperate to fight for the humanity and the well-being of this extremely violent and unhinged 18-year-old girl. Desperate enough to hire a babysitter for an 18-year-old. I wonder if, maybe, one of the first things Millie learned about Blitz was just how desperately he wanted to be the adult role model and caregiver that Loona needed. I wonder if she saw him taking Loona's violence over and over, and still not giving up on her; not just that, but giving Loona the only bedroom in his flat and sleeping on the sofa every night just so she could have her space to decompress and feel safe. I wonder if, at some point, Blitz broke down and told Millie how scared he was of being a bad dad, or of Loona deserving someone better than him.

I just love the idea of Millie being this completely chill and functional young adult, and Blitz being this struggling 30-year-old dude who clearly cares so deeply and feels so inadequate that his whole life is a massive trainwreck.

So now, whenever Millie witnesses Blitz being overbearing and obnoxious and over-the-top, she immediately recognises it as an act, and understands that it's his way of communicating appreciation and seeking connection, which he can't do in other ways because he doesn't think he deserves those things.

Idk man. I just hope we get to see more of Blitz and Millie. I just think their interactions are neat.