#Oh my fucking god you have no idea how pissed off I am right now

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

october 1, 2021 4:15 p.m. grant's house

[juhani] hello? grant, can i call you tomorrow? it’s late.

[grant] no, you can’t. i know it’s 11 o’clock where you are right now, and i don’t really care. you answered, so you’ve trapped yourself.

[varpu, faintly] juha, if you don’t talk now, he will never call you back.

[juhani] i want to speak with you, of course i do, it’s just–

[grant] fantastic, because that’s what we’re doing. we’re talking! i have 30 years of stuff to get off my chest, and i'm sure you have your own piece to share. not sure where to start, but.

[juhani] may i ask you a question? what did you overhear at dinner the other night? are you upset i'm moving? is that it?

[grant] i mean, that stung a little after the whole “i’ll be around to build a relationship with you,” thing, but i gave you my express permission to go home, so it’s whatever. we are both adults, so i am not going to fault you for making adult decisions that improve your life. i'm more upset by you claiming you didn’t tell me about your plans or include me in the moving and wedding stuff and whatever because i'm difficult.

[juhani] that’s not what–

[grant] oh, come on. don’t kid yourself. you said it yourself, anything involving me is like pulling teeth. i heard it loud and clear.

[juhani] well, when i tell you things, you never react well. it always goes precisely like this conversation is going.

[grant] really? never? because i remember being pretty positive about your proposal and about you contacting me in the first place and about coming to dinner to acquaint myself with varpu’s kids and about meeting varpu a while back…

[grant] what i react poorly to is you leaving me out, you calling me difficult, you complaining about me in front of impressionable people, etcetera.

[juhani] i don’t want to leave you out.

[grant] that’s what varpu said, too, but i didn’t believe her, so why would i believe you?

[juhani] i have no idea how to interact with you. i've apologized to you, told you i regret the events of your childhood. nothing works.

[grant] do you regret it? because it kind of just feels like you’re doing the same shit again. abandoning me for your own self-interests. oh, and this time you’re replacing me with a brand new family you treat better.

[juhani] i'm not repl–okay, what would you prefer me do when you push me away? you told me i was difficult.

[grant] when did i say that? i mean, that's true, sure, but i would not say that to you. what i probably said that you’re misconstruing is that talking to you is hard because i'm not comfortable around you.

[juhani] and how long will it take you to be comfortable around me? i don’t know what else you want me to do. truly, i don’t, and it is not pleasant to be rejected endlessly.

[grant] well, i'd have to forgive you, but i don’t. if forgiveness was meant to happen, it would not be instant. you’d have to keep trying with me, even if i piss you off, even if i push you away. you’re my fucking father, it’s your job. you show up for your kid even if they’re horrible or annoying. you never turn your back on them. but, you know, you didn’t show up for the first 22 years you were around, so you’d have to try extra hard now to change my mind.

[grant] but honestly, i will never be comfortable around you. i've realized that over the last few days. i did actually think if you just kept trying, i'd relax and be less on edge, but nope. you could become an honest-to-god saint tomorrow, and i'll still be furious because nothing will make me understand why you couldn’t have been a decent person when i was a kid. like, when i needed you.

[grant] and i don’t get why you weren't. i don't. i'm serious. i can’t comprehend it. clearly, you have it in you to be a decent person. you love varpu's kids. you're fatherly towards them. you take them on vacation, you invite them to house and wedding venue tours, you tell them about and include them in your hobbies, you remember details about them, you smile at them without being forced, you go to their weddings and don’t flip out about them being queer even though you were viscerally disgusted with me when you found out–

[juhani] you shouldn’t bring them into this. it isn’t fair. and i've taken you on vacation before, for one.

[grant] i am being petty, but i think it's fair because i'm not shitting on them specifically. and yeah, okay, you took me on vacation once. you took me to finland exactly once, but i never met your family, and i remember nothing other than the plane rides.

[grant] and you shouldn’t do this. we don’t need to split hairs. you don’t need to crawl through that list of grievances and “well, actually” me as many times as you can manage. one vacation changes nothing. that does not erase all the times you sat there like a lame duck and ignored me or mocked me or let my mother abuse me. there is nothing for you to pat yourself on the back about.

[grant] nothing.

[juhani] so, what are you upset about now?

[grant] why?

[juhani] why what?

[grant] why are you like this? why were you a terrible father? why have no heart for me or my sisters? why did you save all your love for someone else’s kids?

[grant] oh, and how about cerise? you sure didn’t care about your bastard kids either, did you?

[grant] shit. i'm sorry. that just kind of came out. that’s not how i wanted to, you know, pepper that into this conversation. i was going to save that for the end.

[juhani] how do you know about her?

[grant] doesn't matter. it's a long story.

[grant] on that note, what is up with the secret daughter? how’d that happen? is she the only one, too, or should i be on the lookout for any other siblings? and hey, you only divorced my mother in the last few years, so you were cheating. how many times did you fuck around on her, and why would you? you wouldn’t divorce her because you were afraid of her, but apparently it's no big deal to cheat.

[juhani] grant, how can i answer you if you don't allow me to talk? cerise’s mother michelle is a doctor. your mother and i were both at a conference in detroit about healthcare outreach, and…

[juhani] i know it seems contradictory, given how long i stayed with your mother, but i was unhappy in the marriage. i met michelle there at the conference, and she was kind and intelligent, and i suppose the rest of the story should be obvious to you.

[grant] goddamn, man. i hate my mother, but that’s bold: sleeping with another woman right in front of her face.

[grant] did she ever find out?

[juhani] eventually. you remember how she was with the finances. she tracked all the money going in and out of the household. you couldn’t have one cent go missing without being accused of something, and she’d always blame it on some incident with her brother and start ranting about him.

[juhani] look, the agreement with michelle was that i'd stay out of her life and send child support, and she wouldn’t interfere with my family either. i used to lie and tell your mother the child support funds were going somewhere important, but she didn't believe me very long. she did finally question me and find out the truth.

[grant] and?

[juhani] in hindsight, her reaction reminds me a lot of the one she had when you lashed out at her during your graduation dinner. very little left her speechless, but that did. initially, i should clarify. she would go on to never let me live cerise’s existence down.

[juhani] and to answer your question, as far as i know, cerise is the only other child.

[grant] as far as you know?

[juhani] i cannot rule out further surprises.

[grant] jesus christ. my grandmother is right, all men are dogs, but you most of all.

[juhani] does it upset you that much?

[grant] again, i don’t like my mother, but if i needed any more proof that you’re more spineless than a sea sponge, this is it. you were so unhappy with my mother that you’d cheat on her, but you’d not divorce her when your kids were vulnerable.

[grant] you disgust me. you slept around and thought with your dick before you spared a single thought for the kids you let my mother abuse. or for yourself! fuck you. if you’re going to be that selfish, at least be selfish enough to prioritize yourself and leave the woman making you that miserable!

[grant] and now i don’t believe you when you say you wouldn’t leave her back then because you were scared of her. do you seriously mean to tell me it’s less terrifying to cheat on her than to just walk out of the house and never come back?

[grant] i did that, you know? when i'd had enough of my mother, i told her as much and then never spoke to her again. and guess what? wouldn’t you be so stunned to find out she’s never tracked me down, never tried to call or email to reel me back in? she left me alone after i told her to go fuck herself!

[grant] and technically, you know it's possible to leave her, too. what did you say about the divorce? that she just rolled over and let you do it and was fine with you just coughing up all the assets and dipping?

[grant] exhibits A, B, and C that she’s a coward, too. she thinks she’s the boss, but if you fight back hard enough, she gives up. you could have left her at any point in time.

[grant] god. oh my god. you stupid, spineless motherfucker. i thought i'd maxed out on anger. apparently not!

[grant] you really could have been a better father. you could have had your whole little life overhaul decades ago, and you could have saved the entire family so much pain. you, me, elizabeth, kelly…

[grant] i should have suspected as much, and i guess i did, but it's shocking to realize over and over just how useless you are as a father. i think it can't get any worse and then it does. you are a complete and utter failure as a parent.

[grant] this is why i can’t forgive you. you didn’t have to mess up so badly. but no. whatever you got out of the relationship was enough to convince you to sit there and watch my mother ruin all of us, and even thought you weren't happy with her, you got by with fucking other women and only regretted staying a billion years later when you noticed you had nothing of substance left in life but my mother. and that’s a pretty depressing way to live, isn’t it?

[juhani] i stayed because i thought we deserved each other.

[grant] with that attitude, maybe you did.

[grant] listen, i'll admit this, no problem. it’s no one’s fault that she is the way that she is. it’s not even yours. she’s abusive, and what she does to other people is her fault and her responsibility. she’s excellent, too, at convincing you to just go along with it and never question her. it's not that hard to get caught in her trap at first, and she will try her very best to break you. but at some point, you have to question anyway. at some point, you have to recognize you deserve better and do something about it.

[grant] but you didn’t. not until it was too late for it to mean anything.

[grant] i would never think i've done everything right, but in the end, i've respected myself enough to make better choices and do something about the situation i was in, and i've had to do that because the adults in my life weren’t responsible or organized enough to fix things before responsibility fell into my hands.

[juhani] you are a braver and a better man than i.

[grant] i'm glad i am, but do you know how exhausting it is to be brave all the time?

[grant] i am because you weren’t. it is entirely because you failed. you weren’t brave enough to give a fuck about yourself or your kids, so i've had to be brave my entire life. brave enough to survive my childhood, then brave enough to leave. and guess what? i don’t want to be brave. i just want to exist. and back then, i just wanted to be a kid.

[grant] just a kid.

[grant] i wanted to come home from school and play with my pokemon cards and hear my mom and my dad say, “hi honey! how was your day? we love you!" i didn’t want to live in fear of what horror would befall me each and every day.

[grant] fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. you stole my childhood. you stole elizabeth’s childhood. you stole kelly’s childhood.

[grant] you and my mother, but you could have done something. you could have given us our childhoods back. you could have done something! you should have done something!

[grant] you didn’t have to do everything right even. parents mess up, i know that, but you could have at least tried. the bar was on the floor. i would have over the moon living in a single parent household with a father who at least showed up to my hockey games if he wasn’t busy at work and gave me a hug every once in a while.

[grant] and you know what, you did more than steal our childhoods. because you couldn’t stand to sacrifice your comfort long enough to take care of your kids, we all have to live in permanent hell. i have to spend the rest of my life freaking out when someone walks up behind me or speaks too loudly or–god forbid–touches me! it took me years to finally learn not to flinch when someone high fives me! and kelly–i don’t know what she deals with, but i know her life can’t be peaceful.

[grant] again, i am not blaming you for what my mother did–i know she was not kind to you either– but i do blame you for not even trying to stop her or get away from her. you were an adult with power, and you didn't use an ounce of it. actually, you did use it, just not for good. you threw me specifically under the bus because it was easier to let my mother use me as a punching bag than you.

[juhani] you’re right.

[juhani] you’re right, grant.

[grant] i have nothing else to say, short of "fuck you" again. i think i'm done yelling at you.

[grant] no, wait, one last thing. what did you even see in my mother in the first place? what was so enticing about her that you’d stay with her so long and ditch your college sweetheart for her?

[juhani] i don’t know. i don’t know anymore.

[grant] i guess it was two people drawn to each other's misery.

[grant] great. well, that’s all, folks.

[grant] good luck with the new family. maybe you can make it right with someone else and enjoy a totally fresh start because you will never make it right with me, and i will never let you forget what you did to me and my sisters. and don’t lose varpu again, by the way. she is, like, far out of your league–so far it's not even funny–and you are lucky to have this second chance with her and to have a good relationship with her kids.

[grant] also, just so it's clear, i don't want to speak to you anymore after this. don't call me, i won't call you either, except in one circumstance. i'll consider it on the day my mother kicks the bucket. we can toast to the end of that chapter of our lives and hope that the haunting ends. because surely you have to feel a little haunted, too, right? i have a sinking suspicion that’s why you reconnected with me. you don’t care about me. you care about that fresh start, about making yourself feel better about wasting your life and fucking up everyone around you.

[coffee-dere]

I just put $6.50 in a vending machine and it gave me NOTHING IM GONNA KMS

[inkskinned]

there's a video on instagram of a man kicking his partner's door in. the top comment is (with over 4 thousand likes): "how about you tell us what you did to make him that angry?"

barring emergency, nobody should be kicking anybody's door in. many of us lived in houses where it was always, somehow, an emergency. there is a strange, almost hysterical calm that comes over you in that moment - everything feels muted, and you almost feel, however incongruently, like you should be laughing. you are living inside of "the emergency." oh my god, you think. i am now a fucking statistic.

there is another comment with 2.8 thousand likes: "if this was a woman doing it to a man, nobody would give a shit."

do people give a shit now, though?

barring emergency, the door should remain standing. the emergency should be panicked, desperate - "i'm coming in there to protect you." many of us know what it feels like when the emergency is instead "i'm coming in there to get you."

1.5k likes: "and yet you post this for notes. glad to see being the victim has become your whole personality."

hysteria is a word connected to womb, from greek. what you're experiencing is so senseless and inhumane that you (a rational creature) try to find any ground within what is irrational and cannot be explained. one of the most frustrating things about staying in bad situations is that we also lie to ourselves. we also ask ourselves - wow. what did i do?

women can be, and often are, also abusers. abuse is not gendered. abuse is not just a "straight person" problem. abuse does not have a face or figure or sexuality. you cannot pick an abuser out of a crowd. an abuser could be actually anybody.

and then so many people rally behind the man kicking the door in. here is something nobody should be doing, right? you want to ask every person that liked that first comment: do you ask this because you side with him? do you ask this because it helps you feel safe from this ever happening?

in some ways, you're weirdly sympathetic to the top comment, because it is the same logic you see frequently. the idea is that the average, normal, sane person doesn't just break down a door. doesn't just shoot up a school. doesn't stalk and kill women. doesn't threaten sexual assault. doesn't run over protesters. doesn't shoot an unarmed black person. doesn't scream at underpaid walmart employees. doesn't just "lose it". something had to have happened, right? because the default (white. straight. cis.) - that is someone who is always, you know. "sane."

(right?)

on a podcast, you hear a sane, normal, rational person. "if you piss me off, i'm going to need to hit something. sorry but i'm not apologizing. that's just who i am that's how it is." his voice almost sounds like he's laughing.

you think of the door, and how you were almost laughing behind it, too. ironically, every real emergency in your life has almost felt peaceful in comparison. fire, car accident, flash flooding - these felt quiet, covenant to you. you'd stood in all of them, feeling them pass over and up to your chin, never actually overwhelming.

but when the door was coming down, you had felt - is there a word for that? there has to be, a word, right.

surely one of us has figured out the word for that, i mean. it's such a large fucking statistic.

[saltnsugarbear]

Lip with “Fuck, wait — shit. Mm— fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?” “Well, the noises you make are a pretty good indication of how you like it.” “…God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it’s turning me on even more.” 

so like on the low i ate this up

word count: 1.0k

content warnings: KAREN SLANDER IM SO SORRY (I don't like her but I hate slut shaming more) they don't enthusiastically consent but they're both into it I'm sorry 😔, so ig dubcon, oral (m!receiving) (don't ask for this ever again), Lip is kind of mean (the voices olive got to me on that one)

side note: don't expect any bj fics again cause I hate the idea of giving men head SORRY also I like triggered my own life apocalypse (got sick at work, power went out, etc)

come celebrate!

One of Lip's favorite things about you is your competitive nature. Not that he'd ever say that out loud, but it's one of the things that endeared him to you.

It made him like pushing your buttons even more.

So complaining while you actually work on your group project is the perfect way to annoy you today. However you've stopped paying him any mind, about three minutes into his griping. So he tries a new approach.

Bringing up his most recent conquests. So obviously that means he feels the need to mention Karen.

And the fact that instead of being tutored, she gave Lip head instead. The story makes you roll your eyes, shaking your head when he comments that it's probably the best blowjob he's ever gotten.

"It could not have been that good.." You scoff, trying to focus on finishing the sentence you're writing. "Actually, I take that back. Given how big of a slut she is, she's probably had plenty of practice."

"Oh fuck you-" Lip starts.

"Am I wrong?" You challenge him quickly, glaring up from your page.

"You're just pissed off you're not getting any." He sneers. You roll your eyes, you're not having this conversation with him.

Lip takes your silence as agreement, snickering lightly. "No wonder you're so uptight, you're not getting laid."

You have to bite your tongue to keep from retorting. He's fucking insufferable.

"Everything makes so much more sense now. Because I kept asking myself, y'know, why you're such a bitch. But it makes sense now, you're not getting away so you need to take your frustrations out another way."

"You're such a fucking asshole, Gallagher. You don't know shit about who I'm fucking." You snap at him, putting your pen down none too gently.

"Right, like anyone would be able to fuck you. Probably too fucking tight up there, can't even get a finger in you." Lip's look is gloating, like he's won some verbal sparring match.

You don't know why you're moving. Pushing out of your chair and tugging Lip's back. Lip sputters at the abruptness of your yanking, arms flying out for balance. Once there's enough space for you, you quickly step in between his legs before dropping down to your knees.

You're a little surprised at the small tent in Lip's slacks already, scoffing after you piece it together. "You get off on the sound of your own voice?"

"What? No. What are you-" You cut Lip's questioning off quickly, pushing yourself up to rest on your toes so you can easily rest your arm on his thigh as you press your palm against his half hard dick. Lip's words are muddled as you bully him through the fabric, fighting himself for some composure.

With one last squeeze, you bring both of your hands to his hips, pulling him forward until he's sitting at the very edge. You don't miss how he inhales sharply at your rough handling.

Once he's positioned better, you sit flat on your feet before looking up at him through your lashes and leaning forward, licking at his erection through his slacks. Lip groans as you continue to mouth at his cock, head falling back as you suck softly around the fabric.

Once you're satisfied with the wet patch you've made in his pants, you bring your hands to unbutton and unzip them before tugging them down slightly. Lip helps you out by lifting his hips up, letting drag them down past his knees. Your saliva bled through his pants, dampening his boxers where you had been teasing him.

Taking your time, you go back to mouthing at his erection. You can hear him shifting above you, glancing up to see him bring his hands around. Lip's hands are pushy as they hold the back of your head.

"Uh-uh.." You pull away from his bulge, catching his wrists before leaning forward and tucking them behind his back. "Those stay there."

"Fuck..." Lip mutters.

"Lift." You tap his hips as you curl your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. Lip is a quick listener, lifting his hips up so you can tug his boxers down to his pants. He breathes out heavily when his cock springs free, hitting his stomach.

You're quick to take him in your mouth, sliding your tongue along the underneath of his length. There's a sense of pride as Lip struggles to form any words, the only things leaving his mouth a mix of whines and groans.

"Fuck, wait- shit-" Lip grunts as you sink back down to the base, glancing up at him with your nose brushing against his happy trail. "Mm- fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?"

You hum around his length, feeling how he twitches in your mouth before pulling all the way off.

"Well, the noises you're making are a pretty good indication of how you like it." You grin up at him, bringing your hand to wrap around the base of his cock.

"...God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it's turning me on even more." Lip's eyes are lidded as he looks down at you, watching as you slowly jerk him off. You roll your eyes at him, leaning back towards his cock.

"I liked you better when you could barely speak," you tell him before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around the head of him.

"Fuu- ughh.." Lip grunts as you suckle at his head. His hips buck up into your mouth, pushing himself farther in. You hum sharply, taking your hands away from his base and pushing back against his hips. Lip breathes heavily as you keep his hips in place, flicking your tongue over the slit before pressing gently at the underside of his head.

"Wait-" Lip chokes out, hips bucking up again. "Shit, shit- fuck-"

Lip's release is thick on your tongue and you're quick to open your mouth, letting him watch as his cum coats your tongue. Doing such makes Lip swear, another rope covering your tongue. You pull away from him, sticking your tongue out for him to see all of his release before making a show of swallowing it.

"Still think she gave you the best blowjob of your life?"

[heavenlyvision]

Just Friends

Word count: 13.7k

Pairing: Johnny Cage x F!Reader

A/N: Wowee, I am pretty proud of this one ngl! I hope you all enjoy it!!! This idea has been rotating in my brain for a couple weeks now, so I’m pretty stoked to have finished it <33

Summary: When your one-year anniversary raises red flags about your boyfriend you missed, Johnny helps you deal with the fall out in a delicious way, and then he ghosts you. When you find out why, you think his reason sucks but he makes it up to you… kind of.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst (only little bit), virgin!Reader, age gap, reader is in her 20s, fingering, grinding, cum eating, spit swallowing (once), stalking (not by Johnny or reader), minor violence, name calling (not by Johnny or reader), no use of y/n

This isn’t where you would ideally be spending your time, in general you don’t club often but especially not for special occasions, which you classify this as one. You’re meant to be celebrating your one-year anniversary with your boyfriend, he had promised you a romantic evening but instead he surprised you with clubbing. Which, naturally you had no idea was happening, so not only are you not dressed for clubbing but you also are not in the mood to be here.

He's gone off to the dance floor and you’re just sat here by the bar watching him dance and get drunk. It’s uncomfortable for you, you’re dressed up in a nicer dress than what this place warrants and it’s getting the attention of the men around you, attention you really don’t want.

Unfortunately, it looks like your boyfriend is enjoying the attention of the other girls around him, he’s just now engaged in a bump and grind with a girl you both don’t know. This is ridiculous, he knows you can see him right? You’re getting huffy, but when he leans down and whispers in her ear is when you get pissed.

Getting up, you stomp over to him and grab him to get his attention, when he looks at you, he’s none too pleased. Like you weren’t the one watching him flirt with another girl on your one-year anniversary. A whole year with this man and he can’t give you the courtesy of paying you attention and not flirting with other girls. Ridiculous.

Your expression is twisted in anger, “What the hell are you doing?”

“What’s your problem?” He asks, his own expression irritated.

Your eyes become large, shaking your head at him, “My problem is you; you’re flirting with other girls right in front of me! On our anniversary!”

He blows you off and deflects the blame back on you, “Like you care, you have that weird relationship with that old actor dude!”

Of course, he brings up Johnny right now, you roll your eyes at him, “Johnny is just a friend! You know that.”

And he does, you’ve known Johnny for years, or at least your family has, you got closer to him a few years ago when you moved to California. He’s been really kind to you and was the only friend you had here for a while, even though he’s all famous and busy.

He gets in your face and yells at you, “Yeah right, you’re probably fucking him! You won’t fuck me but you’ll fuck him! Is that it?! GOD you are such a whore!” You can smell the alcohol on his breath with how close he is.

This is the first time he’s explicitly said what he’s been implying for months, he’s been so weird about this for a long time, you haven’t had sex with him, or anyone for that matter. And it upsets you when he implies otherwise. His blunt accusation has your eyes welling up with tears.

His shoulders drop and his eyes roll, groaning as he says, “Oh, don’t start that! You are such a gaslighter!”

“We are over, don’t call me, don’t come to my apartment, we are broken up,” you spit it out with as much venom as you can muster.

Turning from him, you get out of there as quickly as possible, hearing him continue to berate you faintly as you leave. The tears from earlier start to fall down your cheeks as you hail a cab, tonight is not what you wanted it to be at all.

This has been an awful experience, and if you were honest with yourself, you’d recognise your relationship had red flags the whole time. You had mostly overlooked it because you wanted it to work so badly but he was mean, pushy, didn’t respect you or your boundaries, he was even prone to violent outbursts, he never hit you but you have a sizable hole in your bedroom wall from the one time he got especially annoyed at you.

These are all things you had kept from Johnny and even then, Johnny had expressed concerns about your now ex-boyfriend, he never overstepped but he very gently told you that he thought he was a freak.

You won’t deny that you like Johnny, you’re attracted to him but it’s not like it’s something you could actively pursue or have even thought about pursuing. He’s older than you and probably wouldn’t look at you the same way you look at him. And even if he did, you can’t think of anything worse than a cheater, you would never want to be cheated on, so you would never cheat on someone. Even if they suck.

Sitting in the cab, you’re forced to reflect on all of this. You wish you’d had a few drinks; a buzz would probably make it easier to sleep tonight. The shock of it all has you most upset because when you search deep down you aren’t even sad about losing him, you’re sad about all the time you wasted on him. All the time you spent trying to make it work with a man who, frankly, didn’t and doesn’t deserve you.  

When you get back home, you’re immediately showering the club off of your skin and crawling into bed. What you want most right now is for this awful night to be over, so you curl up in a little ball and hug your pillow to your chest for comfort.

✰ ✰ ✰

A heavy-handed banging at your door frightens you awake; you shoot up in your spot. It’s your ex banging on your door and yelling at you, grabbing your phone you quickly look at the time. It’s currently nine in the morning, he cannot be sober yet.

You walk through your apartment and drop your phone on your kitchen counter before tentatively walking towards the door. His loud banging stops and he knocks again gently, calling your name softly. You don’t want to open the door but you’re worried about your neighbours, one thing about him is that he is as stubborn as a mule.

Opening the door only a bit, you ask him, “What do you want?”

“Fucking finally, let me in,” his voice is angry and he’s pushing the door open more.

You try to keep him back, “You can’t come in.”

He keeps pushing at the door, eventually swinging it open the whole way, “I can do what I want,” his voice raises.

He goes to move inside your apartment and you push him back, his eyes glower at you, he’s scaring you.

“We are broken up, and I don’t want you in my house,” you say, standing your ground.

“We are not broken up; I didn’t agree to that!” he argues, voice getting louder in his anger.

His demeanour is scaring you, the last time he looked like this was when he punched that hole in your wall.

But you are not caving on this, “That isn’t how it works, we are over!”

He puts his hands on you and his grip digs into your skin, hurting you, but you move automatically and punch him square in the nose. His head flies back, he’s groaning out in pain and grabbing his nose. You take advantage of his balance being thrown off and push him out of the threshold of your apartment, he stumbles back and you’re slamming the door shut, locking it again.

“What the fuck! You stupid bitch! Let ME IN!!” His banging gets more forceful, it sounds like he might be kicking the door too.

You’re shaking at what just happened, you’ve never had to punch someone before. Sadly, it didn’t do enough damage to have him leaving, he’s still there and you have a feeling he isn’t going away.

There’s a sudden ringing from behind you, it makes you jump on the spot. Your heart racing as you realise it’s just your phone from the kitchen, you walk over to it, behind you the banging has slowed a bit but you can tell he’s still out there.

Checking your phone screen, you see it’s Johnny is calling, just your luck. If you don’t pick up now, he’ll just keep calling you. He knows you were meant to go on your date last night and you didn’t message him when you got home. He’s always checking in on you, making sure you’re safe but you don’t really want him hearing what’s happening, so you walk into the hallway and answer. Thankful for the moment of quiet outside your door.

“Hello?” You ask.

“Good morning, doll,” he sounds chipper.

“…Good morning,” your voice is wavering despite your efforts to sound normal.

You can practically feel his frown through the phone, “Are you okay?”

“Yup,” you’re trying to keep your answers short.

The banging on your door picks up again, he’s getting louder and yelling, because of course he is.

“What is that?” Johnny questions.

“…Nothing?”

He pauses, you imagine listening to the background noises, “It sounds like someone’s trying to break in.”

“No, it doesn’t,” you deny.

The banging continues at your door, your exes voice yelling, “Let me the fuck in!! God you’re such a fucking bit–”

“–I’m coming over.” He states, hanging up hastily, leaving no room for arguments.

Great, now you have to face the embarrassment of telling Johnny how awful your ex is and is apparently unwilling to let go of you even though he was flirting with and grinding into another girl right in front of you. You’d rather deal with the cops. Sighing, you grab your bat by the front door and crouch next to it, waiting for Johnny to get here. At least your ex will go away when he gets here.

It doesn’t take Johnny long to arrive at all, which is suspicious, he probably sped. You only know he’s here because you can hear the way your ex gets angry at him.

“Cage, Of course she called you,” he says to Johnny, disdain clear in his voice.

It’s the last thing you hear clearly, whatever Johnny says to him is low but apparently threatening enough to have your ex leaving, not before he yells at you one last time though.

“THIS ISNT OVER!” He yells out for you to hear.

“Yes it is, get the fuck outta here,” you hear Johnny clearer this time, he’d raised his voice at him slightly.

Johnny doesn’t knock, instead using the key you gave him to unlock your door. When he walks inside, he looks around quickly for you, not seeing you until he turns around to lock the door. His eyes widen at your small, crouched form in the corner by the front door, holding a bat with a sock on it.

“Jesus, sugar, what are you doing there?” His hand lands on his chest in mild shock.

“In case he got the door down,” you murmur at him.

He locks the door properly before giving you his hand, helping you up.

His brow raises, “What’s the sock for?”

“In case he tried grabbing it, he’d pull the sock off and I’d still have a bat,” you move the sock up and down the bat, demonstrating the slide.

He reaches out and you hand the bat to him, “Sit over there.” He points at your breakfast barstools.

You do as he says and shuffle over to the stool, sitting down on it. He puts the bat in your umbrella stand by the front door. Walking back over to you, he stands between your legs and holds either side of your face, checking you over.

“You okay?” He asks very softly; concern clear on his face.

You nod at him, “Yeah, Mm okay.”

His eyes are still looking you over, “I saw his nose was bleeding, you hit him?”

You nod again and he smiles at you, “Nice, you square your shoulders?”

“I think so,” you’re not sure, it happened pretty quick, the reaction more of a survival thing than a planned attack.

He hums and looks to your upper arms, “He grabbed you?” His hands gently run down your arms.

“Yeah, then I hit him,” you tell him, looking at your arms where he was looking. The skin where your ex had grabbed is irritated, it might bruise.

Johnny’s face is pulled into a scowl, “I should’ve hit him too, fucken dick.”

You shake your head at him, “I just wanted him gone.”

“I never liked him,” he continues.

“I know.”

“If he shows up again, I am hitting him,” his face still scowling.

You shake your head at him again, “Don’t do that.”

“Why not?” He looks into your eyes again; his hands leave you.

“Johnny, you’re not just some guy, you’re famous, if it got out that you hit someone it’d be a whole thing. It could ruin your reputation.”

He rolls his eyes at your concern, “Don’t really care about all that, doll.”

Your expression is doubtful, “Yes you do.”

“It’d be worth it, that guy sucks,” he maintains.

“Johnny?”

He hums at you in response.

“Can you… stay for a bit?” You ask softly, cringing at how pathetic you sound.

“Of course, you aren’t getting rid of me that quickly,” his smile is soft and you give him your own in return.

Getting up off the stool, you walk around into the kitchen, grabbing two mugs out for some coffee.

“You can go sit on the couch while I make some coffee,” you tell him with your back facing him.

He hums a little mindlessly before wandering over to your living room and getting comfortable.

After the coffee is made, you carefully walk to him, you’re watching the mugs and your feet as you walk. Carrying full cups has always stressed you out, you always manage to spill and you’d really rather not have to clean up a mess right now.

Thankfully, you successfully make it to Johnny without spilling anything, “Here you go,” you smile and hand him his mug.

“Thanks, sugar,” he takes it from you, sips at it and places it on the coffee table in front of him.

You sit beside him and silently sip at your coffee, enjoying the warmth of it, the flavour. You think a good cup of coffee could fix just about anything for you.

Johnny watches you sip at your mug, “What exactly happened, doll and why didn’t you call me?”

Yeah, you were expecting him to ask sooner or later, you were just hoping it’d be later.

Sighing, you place your mug next to his, “I didn’t call you because it’s embarrassing, you were right about him and I wanted to handle it on my own, I don’t need everything fixed for me.” You don’t look at him as you speak.

“I know that, you’re an adult but this was an angry, grown man, trying to beat down your door. And sometimes you might not need my help but you can always have me next to you, if it makes it easier.” His words are spoken soothingly, he’s always so gentle with you.

You can’t lie, you did have a crush on him for a long time, but then you met your ex and you didn’t let those feelings cloud your mind, you pushed them away. But just like how you push them away, Johnny’s actions and words push them back. He’s a difficult man to dislike.

“Thank you,” you mumble.

He asks again, “What exactly happened, it was supposed to be your anniversary wasn’t it?”

“He ‘surprised’ me by taking me out clubbing, which was already bad but I was uncomfortable and left at the bar alone while he danced and flirted with other girls.” You recount.

“What the fuck?” His voice is filled with displeasure.

“Mhm and then he was whispering to this one girl and I got annoyed, so I went over to confront him but he brought up y– … he said some mean things to me and about me… he – he made me cry and I broke up with him on the spot.” You leave out what he brought up about Johnny, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“How’d you get home?” He asks.

“Took a cab.” You state simply.

“And he just let you? Let you leave and get in a cab, crying, by yourself, in the middle of the night?” He clarifies.

You nod your head at him.

Groaning as he says, “I really should’ve hit him.” He pauses, “Why didn’t you call me?”

You look back to him again, “It was late and I didn’t want to bother you, or explain what happened, I just wanted to get home and get into bed.”

“You never bother me, sugar,” his eyes are compassionate as he looks at you.

Looking at him is intense for you, like if you look at him for too long, you’ll get hypnotised by him. So, you look away, back to your mug on the table.

He moves closer to you and puts a hand on your cheek, pulling your face to look at him, “If anything happens to upset you, and I mean anything, call me, okay?” He stresses on the anything, making sure you understand.

You avert his gaze, “I will call you, if something bad happens.”

He moves his face so he can catch your eyes with his, making you look at him again, “Say again.”

“I will call you, next time.” You reconfirm.

“Very good,” his praise does things to you that you wish it didn’t.

He still holds your face, looking at you, his thumb strokes your cheekbone softly. As his hand slips away from your face, his thumb pulls your lip down with it, before he pulls his hand away completely. His eyes locked onto your lips, gaze seemingly far away.

“Johnny?”

He hums, coming back to himself and looking you in the eyes, “Your pjs are very cute.” He changes the topic.

You grow bashful, you’re wearing a matching set, they’re frilly and have bows, and you like them because not only are they really cute, they’re also comfy. Johnny mentioning them throws you off, you completely forgot you were wearing pyjamas.

His smile is cheeky as he watches you grow shy, “What’s wrong?” He asks, taunting.

“You know what you did,” you pout.

He enjoys flirting with you because of how nervous it makes you. He finds it endearing but you find it annoying, which is another reason as to why he keeps doing it.

He hums happily, pleased with himself, “Cute.” It’s all he says in response.

You scowl at him.

He pinches your cheek, pulling at it.

You slap his hand away, “Stop it, that hurts.”

He smiles innocently at you; he goes to say something but his phone rings in his pocket. He pulls it out and looks at it, and then he rolls his eyes, he doesn’t pick it up though.

“Aren’t you gonna answer?” You ask.

“Nah, gonna let it ring out, I do have to go though, I’m late,” his reply nonchalant.

Expression concerned you say, “Johnny! Leave if you’re late, you didn’t need to be wasting time here.”

“I didn’t waste my time, you’re important.” His face firm as he speaks.

You huff at him, “Get out, right now.” Your tone is urgent.

“You’re pretty when you’re bossy,” he teases.

Eyes widening at him, “Johnny!” You exasperate.

“Okay, okay, I’m going,” he placates.

You walk him over to the door. Both of you standing there, you’re waiting for him to open it and leave but he turns around to look at you and pulls you in for a hug. You return it, appreciating the familiarity of him, you nuzzle your face into the fabric of his shirt and he holds you firmly.

His mouth rests against the crown of your head and speaks into your hair, “If he comes back, call me, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumble into his chest.

He pulls you away by your shoulders and then he leans down to kiss your cheek affectionately. The action makes your skin warm; he doesn’t pull away though, lips skating across your face and ghosting your lips, the minimal contact makes you gasp and your heart skip a beat.

He pulls away suddenly, “I’ll talk to you later.” He says hurriedly, opening your door.

“Have a good day,” you manage to say, almost normally.

He hums a noise of agreeance and then he’s gone.

After he leaves, you lock the door, and then your fingers skate over your lips, thinking about how he almost kissed you. The thought makes your heartbeat faster, he’s never showed interest in you before, at least, you don’t think he has.

Why did he do that? Did it mean anything? Was it an accident? You have so many questions that will undoubtably linger in the back of your head for the whole day, if not life.

✰ ✰ ✰

The rest of your day is spent cleaning up your messes made during the week, tomorrow you have a shift at work so today is really the only day you have to be able to pick up after yourself properly. It feels so incredibly mundane compared to what you went through last night and this morning. The fear of you ex coming back loiters in the back of your head the whole time you’re shuffling around your apartment.

It's earlier in the evening when you finally get to sit down, having completed your list of chores, along with showering and eating dinner. You feel quite proud of yourself for doing so much, you didn’t go grocery shopping like you had planned but you think for now, what you have done is more than enough. Leaving your apartment right now is a scary thought, he could be waiting for you outside the building, or around the street corner. You’re overthinking it but it is also very possible, he was terrifying this morning. It shocks you thinking about how he was in your life for so long and you hadn’t noticed anything bad enough to break up with him sooner.

A knock on your door brings you back from your thoughts, you’re apprehensive about answering the door, you aren’t expecting anyone. The person knocks again and your stomach drops, it’s him.

“Go away,” you call out.

“Just let me in, Jesus – talk to me,” your ex is irritable.

You get up and move closer to the door before saying, “You lost your right to talk to me last night.”

“You’re being such a bitch,” he says.

“I’ll call Johnny,” you try threatening.

“Oooo, I’m so scared of some old guy,” he feigns fear, but you know better, he is scared of Johnny.

You walk into the lounge room and pick up your phone, calling him.

His phone only rings a couple times before he picks up, “Hey, doll. You okay?”

From the door you can hear your ex call out to you, “Are you actually calling him?”

Johnny hears him too, “Is he back already?”

“Yeah… Sorry,” you feel bad calling him again so soon.

“Don’t apologise, I told you to call if he came back, you did good by calling me,” he says, his praise making you feel some type of way.

“I’ll be there soon, don’t talk to him,” he directs.

“I’ll see you soon,” you tell him before hanging up.

You grab your bat and hang out in the kitchen, hiding below the counters and watching the front door. Your ex doesn’t speak again, he doesn’t even knock and you briefly wonder if he left.

The wait doesn’t take long, and you know it’s Johnny when you hear the key turn in the lock. He enters the apartment and you pop up from behind the kitchen counters, still holding your bat. He shakes his head at you, amused at the sight of you appearing from nowhere.

Turning around he makes sure to lock the door and walks to you in the kitchen, “You okay, sugar?”

“You’re always asking me that,” you comment.

“I always want you to be okay,” he retorts.

You smile at him, “I’m okay.”

“Good,” he nods his head to the door, “He wasn’t out there.”

“I thought so, I think he heard me on the phone to you.” Your ex must’ve been too scared to face Johnny again, whatever threat he gave working, for now.

“Pussy,” Johnny insults him, it has you laughing lightly. “He really doesn’t like me, do you know why, doll? He ever tell you?” He’s curious.

You hum and look away from him, “No idea.”

“You’re lying.”

“How insulting, I have never lied to you,” you’re looking back at him, trying your best to look innocent.

Both his brows raise at you, “Not from lack of trying.”

You squint your eyes at him, “I am a good girl, I don’t lie, smoke, drink, party… so on and so forth,” you’re being facetious.

“Yes, you are a very good girl, so tell me the truth, mmm?” He practically purrs at you, with the way he spoke to you and how he’s looking at you right now, you’d tell him anything he wanted to know.

“Okay, so maybe I do know why he dislikes you,” you cave but can you be blamed?

He raises a single brow at you, encouraging you to continue.

Fiddling with your hands, you’re hesitant to tell him, “Mmm, so maybe he thinks that we’ve been… hooking up.”

“What?” His eyes are wide.

“He accused me of sleeping with you… which I assured him was not the case and that we’re just friends… but he didn’t believe me, and maybe he called me a whore for sleeping with you and not him…” you can’t look him in the eyes right now.

“I don’t even know where to start,” his expression is confused. “I want to injure him… badly, for calling you a whore,” he starts, his eyes burning.

“I just want him to leave me alone,” you murmur.

“If I break his legs he’ll have to leave you alone for three… to six months, depending on where I break him,” he remarks.

You shake your head at him, sighing.

He continues, “He’s a dumbass for accusing you of sleeping with me,” he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Are you done?” You ask.

“I have one more question, and since you’re such a good girl, you’re going to answer it without tip toeing around it,” his tone only a little bit teasing.

You look sceptical, trying to save face you say, “Maybe.”

“Why would he think you’re sleeping with me and not him,” he asks.

You avert his gaze quickly, “Well… you see, that’s a bit more complicated.”

“How?” He’s direct.

“So…” You trail off.

“No, don’t do that, don’t skirt around your answer… and look at me,” his tone absolute.

You look back to him, your eyes worried, “I’ve not slept with him… or anyone for that matter… as for why he thinks I’m sleeping with you, probably insecurity,” you shrug your shoulders at him.

Johnny looks surprised by your confession, whatever he was expecting you to say, it wasn’t that.

“You’re a virgin?” He clarifies.

You nod your head at him, “Yes…”

“Well shit, sugar, I didn’t mean to make you tell me something that private.” He feels bad.

“It’s not private, I’m not ashamed or anything, I just haven’t wanted to sleep with the men I’ve dated.” Which is true, you’ve been attracted to them, you just haven’t desired them enough to let them have you completely.

“I just feel like whoever I do sleep with, I should crave their touch, and I haven’t… felt that way about the men I’ve dated,” you’ve only wanted one person that way and he’s standing in front of you. Much to your dismay.

“So, your idiot little ex, has somehow got it in his head that you want me?” He asks, big smile on his face.

Frowning, you say, “Don’t look so proud of yourself.”

“Sorry doll, trying not to be but it’s a bit of an ego boost,” he chuckles.

“Like you need one,” you quip. Undeniably though, his confidence is something that makes you feel hot and bothered.

He smiles at you devilishly, going to say something before there’s a knock on your door.

Johnny groans, “Does he not give up or what?”

Another, harsher knock.

“That’s it, I’m kicking his ass,” he starts walking to the front door.

You jog to get in front of him, “No, Johnny, you can’t.”

“I’m fairly certain I can,” he huffs but he stops walking.

You give him a pointed look, “your career?”

“Didn’t I tell you earlier today that I don’t care?”

“I care,” you give him your softest eyes, begging with him not to resort to violence.

He groans in annoyance at how well it works on him, “Arghh, fine.”

“Thank–”

“–But, you should moan so he thinks we’re fucking,” he says, smiling like he’s come up with some master plan.

It’s embarrassing to admit to him but, “I don’t… know what I’d sound like.”

“Never even touched yourself, doll?” His question makes your face feel hot. His bluntness a lot for you, it makes you feel fuzzy.

“I have… I just never really made any noises,” you answer him hesitantly.

Looking at Johnny, he has a very serious look on his face, eyes dark. You only see it for a second before he’s smiling sweetly at you, “Bet you make the cutest sounds,” he teases.

He stalks towards you and you walk backwards, you end up with your back against the wall by the door. Johnny has caged you in against it, one of his hands resting on the wall beside your head.

His voice is low, “Wanna find out?”

You look up at him, “Find out what?”

More loud knocking comes out from beside you, your ex still there, still refusing to leave, “I am not going anywhere!” He calls out.

You turn your head to look at the door, but Johnny’s hand pulls your face back to his, “Keep your eyes on me and answer my question, sugar.”

“What was your question?” You don’t remember.

His fingers play with the strap of your pyjama shirt, “Wanna find out how you sound?”

“What?”

He tuts, “Simple yes or no, sweetness.”

The skin of his fingers brushing against your shoulder has a shudder threatening to run down your spine, he’s arousing you and you don’t feel sure in a lot of things but you feel pretty damn sure in yourself as you say.

“Yes.”

He grins, pleased with your answer, “Can’t hold back, gotta let yourself make noise, okay?”

Nodding your head, you agree.

“Perfect.”

His hand that was playing with your shirt slips down to your hip, holding you there before asking, “Are you wet?”

Your thighs involuntarily clench at his question, “Yeah.”

“What from,” he presses you for more answers.

His hand slips under your sleep shorts but not into your panties, his two middle fingers massage your pussy over your underwear, he can feel the wet patch on the front of them that had formed. Your mind drifts, losing yourself in his light touch.

“Gotta answer, sugar.” He reminds you.

You bring your focus back to his words, “From you…”

“What about me?” His pointer and ring fingers spread your folds through your panties, wet noises resulting from the action, “Fffuck, listen to how wet you are.”

You want to shrink in on yourself, his brazen words embarrassingly hot. His middle finger pets at your clit gently, the stimulation makes you gasp and one of your hands grabs at the wrist of the hand he has on the wall beside your head, the other resting flat against the wall.

“C’mon doll, pay attention,” he chastises.

“The way you – ngh – talk to me,” you confess maybe a little too easily.

“What specifically?” He’s too curious for someone touching you in a way that makes it difficult for coherent thought.

His middle finger is still gently grazing your clit, never straying, the stimulation making you so wet. Your panties no doubt ruined under his ministrations.

“Your voice, your praise, nicknames – hah, jus like the way you talk to me,” you feel breathless.

“Mmm, like being praised? Told what to do?” He asks in a mocking manner.

You’re lacking any critical thinking skills right now though, because you normally wouldn’t feed his ego so much, “By you, yes.”

“Fuck sugar,” he curses, your honesty getting to him.

His finger still stroking you over your underwear, your hips twitching in response to it. He hums at you, enjoying how much you’re squirming below him.

“Johnny,” you call to him, his name coming out whiny.

His response is far away, “Mmm?” he doesn’t look up to you, instead he pulls your shorts all the way down, wanting to watch the way he plays with your clit over your panties.

He adds more pressure to the finger stroking you, the feeling making you gasp, an almost moan slipping from you. Without realising, you hold it back and it comes out strangled.

“Not supposed to hold back, doll.” He reminds you quickly.

But you’re still conscious of your ex lingering in your hallway, something that Johnny is also aware of, which is why he wants you to be louder. He decides to pulls your panties down, removing his fingers from your pussy to do so.

The loss of contact has a whimper exiting you and Johnny chuckles at the sound.

“Needy aren’t ya?” He hums at you, amused.

You huff at him, not really appreciating the teasing.

His fingers move back to your pussy, sliding through your very wet cunt, spreading your slick around, his chest rumbling with a growl at how wet you are. Your thighs are wet and your whole lower half is slippery. The teasing he’s put you through too much, you’re beyond horny and you really just need him to touch you.

You look up at him, eyes big and wet, pleading with him to touch you properly without asking aloud.

The hand by your head moves to cup the side of your face, his smile is large as he looks at you. Enjoying the way you’re falling apart in the palm of his hand. He shows you pity though, and his finger slips to your pussy hole, gently pushing into you. Your cunt spasms lightly around it and he sighs a groan at the feeling.   

“Damn sugar, you’re… fucken soaked,” he comments.

You don’t reply to him, you can’t, too lost in the feeling of his large finger carefully pushing into you. The hand he has on your face still holding you, making you look at him. His thumb pulls your bottom lip down, his eyes mesmerised by your expression. You have a soft and needy look on your face, eyelids low, your breaths whiny. He’s enamoured by you, getting lost for a moment.

But he remembers himself and removes his hand from your face, instead holding your hip, your back arching off the wall slightly. He pushes his finger in the rest of the way, stroking against your walls, his thumb rubbing circles into your clit.

Your breaths turn into whimpers and as he pulls his finger in and out, you moan in response, the feeling overwhelming. Your hips are writhing in his grip, and your head is thrown back on the wall, moans growing louder.

He holds your hips steady, gaze flicking between the way your cunt is sucking his finger in and the fucked-out expression you’re wearing on your face. Your chest rising and falling quickly with your breaths.

For the first time in a while, he’s lost for words, he doesn’t even want to say anything. Just wants to push you over the edge, have you moaning and writhing against the wall for him. He’s painfully hard and ignoring it, but his dick twitches every time your cunt tightens or moans get louder.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Your ex pounds on the door, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

You had forgotten about him, too lost in your own pleasure. You squeak at his yelling and bite your lip.

“Don’t you fucken dare, need you to keep making those noises, sugar,” Johnny’s thumb tugs your lip free of your teeth.

The pounding beside your head gets louder, your ex yelling belligerently at the two of you, cursing Johnny out.

“She has the tightest little cunt!” Johnny calls out to your ex, just to piss him off further.

“Johnny,” you try admonishing him but his name borders on a whimper. The feeling of his finger moving in and out of you affecting you. Your moans are barely contained.

Your ex smacks the door harshly once before yelling at the two of you, “I FUCKING KNEW IT!”

He murmurs curses, calling you names and yelling about how he was right the whole time, before you hear his stomping feet walk away. Seemingly leaving.

Briefly you wonder if Johnny will stop touching you now that your ex has left but if anything, his pace increases, his finger fucking into you quickly, thumb circling your clit firmly. Your moans spill from you, breaking off into whimpers. Johnny has a feral look on his face as he watches his finger fuck into you.

The wet sounds of your pussy getting louder with his increase in speed. His hand on your hip again, keeping you still. His forehead leans forward and rests against yours, you can’t help but watch his lips, wanting him to kiss you.

He’s busy watching your cunt, “Fuck, sugar, really do have the tightest pussy.” You shudder at his words and he continues talking, “Fucken, messy too.”

Your hands claw at the wall behind you, trying to brace yourself against something sturdy.

“Can I add another?” He asks, wanting to stuff you full of his fingers.

“Please,” it’s a desperate sound that escapes you.

His middle finger pulls out to add his ring finger alongside it, both pressing into you gently, not getting far with how tight you are. The width of them stretching you open, burning slightly. His thumb keeps rubbing at your clit, trying to ease the stretch.

“Relax, doll,” he directs.

Taking a deep breath in, you relax slightly and Johnny takes advantage of it, slipping his fingers into you completely.

A keening whine pulls from you at being full of his large fingers.

“Thas it, such a good girl for me,” he groans out at you.

Your pussy clenches down on his fingers at his praise and a soft moan escapes from him, his composure slipping for a moment. If you had your wits about you, you’d notice how his own eyes look a little fucked out, that he’s worked himself up so much just from finger fucking you.

His hand on your hip grips you tighter, grounding himself. Both his fingers fucking into you in earnest, determined to have you cumming on them. His pace picking up to what it was previously, your walls clinging to him desperately. His own breathing is coming quick.

You’re teetering on the edge of something beautiful, “Feels like too much,” you whine at him.

“It’s meant to feel like that,” he coos at you, pity in his voice.

His fingers are persistent and so big and your cunt is fluttering around him with how close you are. Your eyes close, eyebrows knitting together against the pleasure. You feel something brush against your lips, so softly, that you think you imagine it.

Johnny removes his hand on your hip, grabbing your face again. Thumb coming up to your mouth and pushing inside it, you take it, wrapping your lips around it and sucking. He groans at the sight and feel of your warm, wet mouth. He pushes his thumb down onto your tongue, you’re salivating against it, drooling slightly.

The pleasure he’s giving you is so much, from never being touched by someone like this to being touched by someone whose touch feels like he’s attempting to pull you apart from the very depths of your being, is an insane jump. His presence alone crushes you; this is a completely new experience.

Your cunt pulses around his fingers, your moans muffled around his thumb. Johnny’s eyes drop from your face and look down between you both, watching your pussy, again. Infatuated with how you’re taking his fingers.

“C’mon doll, can feel you, you’re so fucken close,” his voice is strained as he talks.

But his voice is devastating to you, the gruffness of it sends you over the edge, your hands paw at his chest, needing something to hold onto. His thumb removes itself from your mouth, grabbing one of your hands instead and interlocking fingers with you.

Your hips grind down into his hand, riding out your high, moans tumbling from your lips as you throw your head back, his name mixed in with your moans. Distantly, you can hear Johnny moan at your orgasm, delighted by the state of you. Your breathing is harsh, chest moving quickly, you feel far away from your body. Hearing poor with how the blood is rushing through your head.

Johnny pulls his fingers from you carefully, you’re watching him through dazed eyes, slumped against the wall. His own eyes looking at his fingers and the way they’re soaked in your slick and cum. He shocks you when he licks them clean before putting them in his mouth, sucking you off them. He hums around his own fingers at the taste of you.

The display is obscene and has a small whimper being pulled from your chest. He pulls his fingers out of his mouth, keeping eye contact with you. His heated look making you squirm a bit.

He shoots you a charming smile, “I was right, you do make cute sounds.”

You cover your face with your hands, wanting to escape his penetrating gaze.

Johnny locates your shorts and helps put them back on you, he kisses the top of your head, “I got carried away, doll. I’m sorry.”

Pulling your hands away, you look at him. He’s wearing a troubled expression, disappointed in himself, seemingly, out of nowhere.

“It’s okay.” You assure him.

He shakes his head, “No it’s not, I should’ve known better, I’m older than you. Shouldn’t have done this.”

You’re getting a bit annoyed, you’re an adult and you told him yes when he asked, “Johnny, I agreed.” You try reminding him.

“Doesn’t matter, should’ve controlled myself.” He’s getting hung up on his morals, frustrated in his actions tonight.

“I could’ve stopped you if I didn’t want it,” you push.

He looks at you dubiously, something telling you that his internal struggle is deeper than what he’s sharing with you.

“I should go, doll. I am so sorry.” He apologises again, but there isn’t anything he needs to apologise for.

He doesn’t touch you as he leaves, he looks like he wants to, but he doesn’t. Instead, he rushes out the door, not letting you argue with him any further. You hear him lock the door with his key as he leaves.

You’re left leaning against the wall, shell shocked as to what the hell just happened. He gave you your first and best orgasm and then left suddenly. Acting like he’s committed some kind of crime.

Calling him doesn’t work, he won’t pick up and he hasn’t replied to any of your texts. You don’t think he realises that he hadn’t fucked up before but he certainly has now, because what the fuck???

✰ ✰ ✰

By the next morning, Johnny still hasn’t replied and you have to go to work. You’re extra cautious as you leave your apartment, anxious about your ex possibly approaching you. Luckily he isn’t anywhere to be seen and you make it to work with no issues. Though, you did feel like somebody was watching you for a bit, you chalk it up to your nerves. The past few days not really doing great things for your psyche.

Your shift is a long one, gruelling. The whole day you’re thinking about your ex harassing you all day yesterday and when you finally think about something else, it’s about how Johnny is ghosting you.

On your break you try messaging him again, telling him it’s fine and if he regrets it that much to just forget about it. You aren’t going to be clingy and make him marry you or something now, if you knew how this would end, you wouldn’t have said yes. You don’t regret what happened but you will if you lose him as a friend over it. You want to convey that to him but you aren’t the best at communicating your feelings, things come out wrong and weird in your desperation to explain your thoughts.

So, you settle for sending him a text that boils down to ‘if you regret it, we can just forget it. I’m not mad at you’. Though, you feel like that might bite you in the ass later.

When your shift is finally over, you don’t want to go home. A bad feeling consuming your whole body, worried about what you might come face to face with. Worried you might run into your ex on the way back. You’d appreciate having one of your work friends walk you back but you don’t know any of them well enough to ask, and you don’t wanna call Johnny right now, not that he’d pick up anyways.  

The walk back is tense, you’re on edge and when you get to your apartment, you realise you were right to be so. Your apartment door has a hole in it where it’s been kicked in, picking up your phone, you call Johnny but of course he’s still avoiding you. So, you leave a message for him and instead call the cops.

You wait for them to arrive; it doesn’t take them long but they weren’t quick about it either. They check it out for you, making sure it’s empty and when they confirm that it is, they tell you so. You walk into your apartment and they ask you a few questions.

You tell them, “I know who did it, it was my ex, he harassed me all day yesterday.”

“Did you report him?” One of them asks.

“Not at the time, but I didn’t think he’d do this,” you raise your hands, gesturing to your ransacked apartment.

“We can’t do much without actual proof, next time you’ll just have to hope to catch him in the act.” The other says.

“We will keep record of this, but yeah, unless you get actual evidence, we can’t do anything about him,” The first one adds.

You could definitely question him, you think.

This is why you didn’t want to deal with the cops in the first place, they never give a shit about things like this until someone is dead.

“Yeah thanks, I’ll be sure to prioritise that next time,” you tone is facetious but you can’t help it, your home has been broken into and possibly robbed and they couldn’t give less of a fuck.

They ignore your attitude, “If you find that some of your items are missing, report it, we’ve got another call to go on, stay safe.” And then they’re both leaving you there, in your messed up apartment.

The place you’re meant to feel safe has been broken into by someone you had dated for a year, someone you used to trust and now you’re just left here. Knowing that he’s still out there and could come back whenever he wants, they didn’t even ask for his name. What are you meant to do? Where are you meant to go? Cause there is no way in hell that you’re staying here.

You’ll have to look for hotels in the area, you’ve only made a few friends here and most of them are campus living. Also, you’d prefer people didn’t know about this. You’re feeling incredibly vulnerable and alone at the moment.

Looking around the room, you see that heaps of your breakables have been chucked around, he broke your tv, some of your favourite mugs, a framed picture of you and Johnny. He’s made holes in some of the walls and flipped over furniture.

Sighing, you go to check your room, and sadly, it didn’t fare any better, it looks like he cut open your mattress and tore up some of your clothes. A lamp broken and on the floor. Right after you just cleaned up the day before too, ironic.

You hear the sound of shuffling in the entryway, stuff being walked into, it makes you freeze in your spot. The footsteps become frantic, walking quickly around your apartment before heading towards where you are at the end of the hall in your bedroom. There isn’t anything you can grab as self-defence, but it’s okay because you see when he enters the room that it’s just Johnny. He was the one stomping around quickly, worried about you.

“Oh my God, why didn’t you pick up the phone, been calling you.” He stresses as he walks up to you, pulling you into his embrace.

You don’t hug him back, annoyed at him, but he doesn’t stop hugging you anyways.

“I put my phone down in the lounge room, didn’t think you were gonna call.” You weren’t expecting him to come, you weren’t even expecting him to check his texts from you, let alone a voicemail.

He huffs, agitated with himself, because yeah this is on him, “I’m sorry, I’ll always come when you call.”

“I called you first,” your voice shakes, tears threatening to fall.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

A tear slips down your cheek, “Don’t want you to be sorry, wanted you to be here.”

“I know, doll, I–” You think he was going to apologise again but cuts himself off, “What happened?” He still hasn’t let you go, and you still won’t hug him back.

“Came home from work, saw my door had been kicked in so I called you, you didn’t answer, so I called the cops.” You detail.

He asks, “What did they say?”

“They can’t do anything to him without proof,” you’re crying now, remembering just how unhelpful they were.

He pulls back to look at you, his thumb wiping away your tears, his hands holding your face gently, “What do you mean?”

“That’s what they said, they can’t do anything without evidence. This will be kept on record but because I have no proof, they can’t do anything about him.” You sigh out.

Johnny looks unbelievably pissed.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do, he broke so many of my things, I don’t know where to go,” you’re almost sobbing now, working yourself up.

“Calm down,” he shushes you, “You’ll be staying with me.” Your expression is doubtful, “What’s that look for?” He questions.

“You literally just ghosted me out of nowhere, over an imaginary problem that you created,” you remind him.

His hands let go of your face and land on your shoulders, “That was me being stupid about me being stupid, I fucked up, but I am here for you and you will stay with me.” He cements, not really leaving you any room to disagree.

Tears are still falling down your cheeks, you wipe at them with the back of your hand, “Okay.”

“Good, now pack a bag,” he lets go of your shoulders.

Locating one of your suitcases, you pack as many clothes as you think you’ll need, as quickly as you need, not wanting to stay here any longer than necessary. You also grab some of your basic necessities and memorabilia.

On your way to the front door Johnny carries your bag, “Wait a sec,” you call out to him.

He stops where he is and you walk over to the lounge room, picking through the glass on the floor.

“Be careful,” he warns.

Humming at him in response, mostly ignoring him, you fish out the photo of the two of you. It’s one of your favourites and you’d hate to lose it.

Johnny’s expression is curious, “What is it?”

“Us,” you turn the photo around to show him, “It’s my favourite.”

He smiles at the photo before he frowns, “What a freak, real insecure guy,” he says in reference to your ex.

You smile a bit, because yeah your ex is very insecure and a huge freak but, “You literally fingered me within earshot of him.”

Johnny pouts and looks away, “Still…”

“Let’s leave,” you save him from whatever he was going to say in protest.

He nods at you, “Sounds good, sugar.”

✰ ✰ ✰

Walking through the lobby of Johnny’s apartment is always a bit of a shock, his apartment is nicer and has actual front desk security. You can already tell that you’ll feel safer here, even if you were left alone. You can’t help but feel a little bad for him though, he loved his mansion and he had to sell it.

The ride up the elevator is quiet, which you’re thankful for right now, you’re not really in a conversational mood. Just wanting to shower and get out of your work clothes, wash off the day in general.

Inside his apartment, he shows you to the guest room and drops your bag onto the bed.

Turning to him, you ask, “Can I have a shower?”

“I dunno, can you?”

You scowl at him, “May I have a shower?”

“You may,” he smiles cheekily.

He shows you to the bathroom, you’ve been here before but he’s a thorough man, double checking that you’re comfortable and know where everything is. When you affirm that you will be okay and have everything under control, he’s leaving you to your own devices, wandering off into the living area.

Grabbing your toiletries first before you’re immediately getting inside the shower. All too ready for the comfort the warm water will give you. You let the water run over you, allowing yourself a moment to lose your composure, letting yourself cry under the water. Things could be worse but they could also be better and in this private moment in the shower, you let yourself feel like the world is ending.

After you’ve finished in the shower, you towel yourself off quickly, walking to the guest room with the towel wrapped around you, having left your clothes in there. But as you shuffle the clothes around in your suitcase, you notice you’ve not packed any pyjamas, and now you want to cry again. Because how are you so stupid as to forget pyjamas.

Stopping yourself from spiralling, you take a few deep breaths and go looking for Johnny, you’ll just have to borrow a shirt of his. You find him in the kitchen, sipping on a drink.

“Johnny?” You call out to him; his back is facing you.

He hums as he turns around, eyes growing wide as he realises you’re only wearing a towel.

“What’s up, sugar?” He’s straining himself to keep looking into your eyes and not anywhere else.

Rocking on the balls of your feet a bit, you tell him, “I forgot pjs, do you have a shirt I can borrow or something?”

His gaze is distant for a second, you walk closer to him and wave a hand in front of his face. He catches you by the wrist, “Sure I do, gimmie a sec,” he smiles at you, his eye twitching the slightest bit as he talks.

He wanders away for a few moments, when he reappears, he’s holding a shirt of his. It’s long sleeved and has different coloured sleeves to the rest of the shirt, you gratefully accept it.

“Thank you,” you say, walking away hastily to change.

You hear him hum out a response to you as you waddle away quickly.

When you slip it over your head, you first note how soft and warm it is, and second you note how large it is on you. It covers your lower half fairly well, but you didn’t ask for bottoms and he didn’t give you any so you pick out a pair of boy short underwear, they aren’t anything special but they do have little stars all over them.

Anyways, they’ll do as more conservative bottoms for the night, you’ll go to get some of your pyjamas tomorrow. For now, these will pass as shorts, kind of, it’s unlikely they’ll even be seen anyways. Are you overthinking this? You feel like you’re overthinking this.

Exiting the room, you go back to the kitchen and notice that Johnny isn’t there anymore, nor is he in the lounge room. Shuffling around his kitchen, you look at his ingredients, wanting to cook him something as a thank you for taking you in temporarily.

He hasn’t got heaps but you can make a carbonara, he has the basics for it, pasta, cream, bacon, etc. You think this will do nicely, though mostly you’ve just talked yourself into wanting pasta.

When Johnny comes back into the kitchen, you’re standing by the stove making the cream. Quickly glancing to him, you realise he’s also showered. He looks good, domestic. In a casual t shirt and sweatpants, your eyes linger for a bit longer than what’s appropriate. Swiftly snapping your head back to the stove when you notice you’re staring for too long.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’,” he sing songs to you, coming up to stand by your side.

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him, “Creamy carbonara.”

“Smells good,” he comments.

“That would be the bacon,” you nod your head to the bacon bits you had previously cooked.

When you look up to him, he’s already looking down at you. His eyes are filled with a kind of affection for you that you’ve never taken any notice of. His eyes flit from your eyes to your lips, his hand coming up and grabbing the side of your face, thumb stroking high on your cheek bone.

You lean into his hand and he’s dipping down to you, “You look good in my shirt,” he whispers to you, lips almost touching.

Just as he’s about to take your lips in his, there’s a bubbling sounds coming from the stove.

“Ah, the pasta!” You move out of his grasp quickly, lowering the heat on the stove. It had almost boiled over in your distraction, “Go away! You’ll make me ruin something!”

“Wanna ruin you,” he mutters as he walks away, though you don’t hear him.

“What?” You ask him as he walks away.

He calls out, “Nothing!”

His restraint is wearing thin around you and he wonders briefly, if having you here is going to end well. He almost folded just from you wearing his shirt and cooking for him, he has to find a grip and hold it.

Seemingly, you are completely unaware of his own internal conflict, happily humming to yourself in his kitchen, cooking a meal for the both of you. Johnny watches you from the breakfast bar, enjoying the sight of you flitting around his kitchen.

“Where are your plates?” You ask him.

“Bottom cupboards, by the stove,” he answers.

Bending down you open the cupboards but there’s only baking trays and other miscellaneous oven trays in here. He watches as you bend over, enjoying the sight of his t shirt riding up, seeing your small ‘shorts’ as it does.

You huff, standing up, “No they aren’t.” You turn around to look at him.

“I know, I lied,” he smiles innocently at you.

Scowling at him you ask, “Why?”

He avoids the question, “Just cause,” he shrugs at you, “they’re actually in the bottom cupboards on the other side.”

You look at him sceptically, walking closer to him and looking in the cupboards again, and this time he told you the truth. Grabbing two plates, you place them on the bench top.

Choosing to ignore him, you continue humming a mindless tune as you dish out the pasta. When you’re finished, you slide the plate over to him. Walking yourself around the counter so you’re next to him, you sit beside him and reach forward, dragging your plate to yourself, ready to feast.

“Thanks, doll,” he says.

“Mmm, thank me when you’ve tried it,” you remark.

You both sit in a comfortable silence whilst you eat, which you are grateful for. You’re hungry and want to eat without having to stop to talk. The food tastes good, probably one of the better ones you’ve made, it’s an easy recipe, one of your go to’s and it never fails to fill a hole in your heart where pasta lives.

After you’ve finished, you get up to clean up but Johnny stops you, “Ah, you cooked, I’ll clean.”

“But I’m the one that made the mess,” you contend.

He looks at you with a brow raised, expression reading as ‘really?’ You sigh and allow him to take your plate. As he bends over your shoulder to take it, he kisses your cheek, “It was very good, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” your face feels hot all of a sudden.

He stands at the sink, rinsing the plates off before putting them in the dishwasher, “What made you cook?”

“A thank you, for letting me stay,” you smile watching him clean up, “I’m being a good house guest.”

“Ah, can I expect a cooked meal every night then?” He teases.

Your face pulls up in a joking scowl, “Absolutely not! You can cook tomorrow… and the day after and the day after.”

“I see, so it was a one-time deal,” he nods in understanding.

“Can’t give it away for free, you gotta want it,” you joke.

A quiet falls over the both of you for a moment, neither of you sure what to say next.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” You ask him.

He’s moved away from the sink and is back at the bench, arms holding himself up on it as he looks at you deviously, “What movie?”

You know what he wants, “Not one of yours.”

“That’s not very nice, doll,” he groans out in complaint.

Arguing with him, you say, “I have already seen all of your films, we are not watching one tonight.”

“Whoever gets the remote picks the movie,” he states quickly before making a run for the lounge room.

You aren’t as quick as him, scrabbling out of your chair to chase after him, “Johnny, not fair!” You don’t even know where his tv remote is.

When you make it into the lounge, he’s already holding the remote, wiggling it back and forth, taunting you. Groaning, you trudge up to him.

“That was not fair,” you complain.

He has a large victorious smile on his face, “Wasn’t trying to be fair, sugar. I was trying to win.”

Trying to be sneaky, you move closer to him, but he holds a hand up as you approach, “Ah ah, stay where you are, I won,” he informs.

“I’m not doing anything,” you shrug.

He keeps moving away from you, you’ve successfully rounded him so that his back is facing the couch now. Moving closer to him, he has no where else to go. It doesn’t bother him though, he squares his posture, holding his ground.

“I wouldn’t recommend whatever you’re about to do, doll.” He warns you.

You repeat again, “I’m not doing anything.”

Standing right up against him now, you go to quickly grab the remote but he moves it up and away hurriedly. You grab onto his forearm and try to pull it down as you jump for it, he’s laughing at you. His evasion of your attempts at grabbing the remote are effortless, you’re still trying to pull his arm down to you but you think he’d sooner be able to hold all your weight on one of his arms, than you bringing it down to you.

This isn’t working, you need a new plan. Pulling back, you look up at him.

“That won’t work on me,” he says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” comes your reply.

“That,” he gestures towards your face, “Looking at me all cute like, won’t work, not tonight.”

You smile sweetly at him, “But another night, it would work?”

He squints at you, unsure of what you’re planning, “Maybe…”

Your plan wasn’t anything along these lines, but it’s fun to know that apparently you could get him to bend to your will in different circumstances with just a sweet look.

Stretching up, you go for the remote again, he steadily holds it out of reach, “C’mon sugar, you know this isn’t working–”

You take the chance while he’s talking to jump up on him, legs wrapping around his hips, your hands making a move for the remote. He’s shocked, his free arm automatically coming to rest under you to hold you steady. The only thing he can think to do, is drop the remote onto the floor and kick it across the room, away from the both of you.

“No!” You protest, moving to unwrap yourself from him and go after the remote.

Johnny holds you to him though, before using his grip on you to chuck you down onto the couch, you’re laughing and struggling against him, still protesting. You don’t stop wiggling, even though he’s straddled you and is holding your wrists down to the couch.

“Stop squirming so much,” he chuckles at you. The shirt you’re wearing has ridden up your hips, exposing your underwear completely to him, “Those are really cute, doll,” he teases you.

“You can’t distract me, we are not watching one of your movies,” your wrists struggle against his grasp.

“I can hold you here all night, sweetness,” his smile devilish.

You scowl at him, “If it means we don’t watch your movie, then go right ahead.”

His threat isn’t much of a threat to you, in this moment you feel yourself growing wet at his harsh hold on you. The way he effortlessly overpowered you making you feel some kind of way, you find yourself wishing he’d fuck you into the couch. You’re working yourself up the longer he holds you here. Your thighs lightly clenching at the thought of being opened up on his cock, the first man you’d ever be with.

“What are you thinking bout, sugar?” He asks, catching the faraway look in your eyes.

You blink once and shake the thoughts out of your head, “thinking about how much I don’t wanna watch your movie,” you retort.

“Aww you’re hurting my feelings here, doll.” His expression faux sadness.

Both of you looking into each other’s eyes, neither of you planning to cave, at least not anytime soon. Johnny has enough of it and decides to play dirty, his hands leaving your wrists and instead come up to tickle at your sides and ribcage.

Laughs fall from your lips, along with pleas trying to ask him to stop. The feeling making it harder to breathe, you’re taking in big breaths in between gasping laughs. Your body tries wiggling away from him, you manage to flip onto your stomach and try to crawl away from him but his thighs keep you locked in place, if anything you’re more immobile now. His tickling is unrelenting and you feel like you might pass out.

Tapping the couch as you say, “Okay, okay! I concede, just please stop!”

He hums and leans down from above you, whispering into your ear, “Good girl.”

You hide your face in the couch, skin hot and pussy aching, he isn’t being very nice to you tonight. Working you up, leaving you high and dry. He hops off you and grabs the remote, lifting your legs and sitting back down, resting them in his lap.

He slaps your leg lightly, “C’mon, you have to watch it now.”

Grumbling to yourself as you move up in a sitting position next to him, expression none too pleased. He’s smiling brilliantly at you though, overjoyed with his victory.

Sighing as you sink back into the couch, “I dislike you right now.”

“Well, I like you a whole lot right now,” He counters.

He flicks the movie on and you get about a third of the way into it when your eyelids start slipping shut, tired from the very difficult last couple days.

Thankfully, your dreams are pleasant, though they are filled with Johnny, mostly memories of last night, when you were stuffed full of his fingers, the sounds he was making, the words he spoke to you.

Your mind conjures images of him fucking you, how he would look above you, grabbing your hips as he rocked his dick in and out of you. The dream is pleasant, the feelings it offers you divine.

Suddenly, you’re being pulled back to your body, you awaken with a jolt.

“You fell asleep! That’s really rude of you, y’know. Hurting my feelings here, doll,” he criticizes you.

Based on the last scene you remember watching and where you are now, he either let you sleep for a while, or didn’t realise you were asleep.

You wipe at your eyes, “Mm sorry,” you mumble, stretching out a little.

He’s got an evil smile on his face when you look him in the eyes, “You were moaning.”

“Was not!” You don’t believe him.

“You definitely were, and I’d know,” his smile large as he teases you, “It was cute, what were you dreaming about, mmm?” he hums in delight.

You wonder for a moment what his end goal is here, he teases you but never follows through, aside from the other night but then he seemingly regretted that right after it happened. You decide to try something outside of your comfort zone.

You look at him, “And if I told you I was dreaming of you?”

He goes to shut you down, “I don’t–”

“–If I told you how wet I am right now, from thinking of you?”

“Don’t.”

“Why not?” You press.

“You know damn well ‘why not’,” He argues, “I’m older than you, and you’re a virgin!” He tells you these things like you don’t already know.

“…I want you, making my panties all wet,” you’re squirming in your seat lightly.

He groans out at your words, “Doll…” his expression is pained.

Feeling insecure you ask, “Do you not want me?”

“Are you kidding?” Dubious expression on his face, “You get me so hard, doll.”

“Then why won’t you even kiss me?”

“I want to, all the time,” he confesses.

You crawl across the couch and straddle his lap, his hands come up to your hips straight away. Grip digging into your skin, restraining his desire, wanting nothing more than to fuck into you how he wants.

“Why don’t you,” you press him for answers.

“Don’t trust myself around you, can’t help but tease you, touch you,” his grip on your hips tightens for a second, “The last thing I wanna do is take advantage of you.”

“I want you to take advantage of me,” the statement is true, you’ve never wanted to be with a man more than you do him.

He’s using every fibre of his being to control himself right now, refusing to do any more than hold you, his hands are holding you away from his lap. Knowing if he feels the warmth of your cunt through your panties, he’s going to lose his mind and all self-control.

Bringing your hands up, you place them on his shoulders, and then you lean forwards. Pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, moving to the other and placing a kiss there, his breaths become laboured. Your lips travel across his cheek, pecking him as you go, kissing the corner of his mouth, and then a light kiss to his full lips, he sighs against you and kisses you back.

It’s quick, because you’re continuing to peck kisses on his face, a kiss to the other corner of his mouth, and his other cheek again. As you travel back, kiss on the corner of his mouth again, and as you kiss him lightly on his lips, he kisses you back harshly, hands coming up and grabbing your face. He angles you and deepens the kiss, his kiss is desperate for you, fuelled by need.

Without his hands on your hips, you can drop to his lap properly, you sigh at the hardness of his dick against you, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into the kiss. You moan against his mouth in response and he groans.

Tentatively, you grind down into him lightly, needing some kind of friction. He distracts himself with kissing you, trying not to lose himself in the feel of your pussy grinding into his very hard dick. You’re so horny and this isn’t nearly enough for you.

Pulling away from his mouth you complain, “Want more.”

“You really are needy, aren’t ya, doll?” He teases.

But you roll your hips into his and he grunts in response, his hands gripping your hips again, without your lips on his, he’s hyper focused on the way you rut into his dick. You pull his sweats down, his cock bare, he’s not wearing anything under his pants and it has you moaning.

You sit down again; your panties are soaked and the feel of the slippery fabric rubbing up and down his cock has Johnny whimpering. You keep grinding into him, groaning in frustration, wanting more.

His hand grabs onto your panties and rips them from you, just straight up tearing them off your body, the display of strength makes you whimper.

“You gotta do this my way, sugar.” He tells you.

You nod your head at him, you’d probably agree to arson right about now.

“God, so fucken eager.” He chuckles at you, sliding you against him again.

The bare contact has you keening, rutting down onto him with more urgency. Wet squelching noises are filling the room as you slide against his cock, you want him inside you so badly. The thought of having him inside you making your cunt drool on his dick.

“You’re so fucken wet, ffffuck,” Johnny is groaning out, his control of the situation hanging on by a thread.

“I want you inside,” you tell him.

“No,” his voice is stern, it’s a line he refuses to cross.

You huff at him, “Johnny please–”

“ – You can plead all you want, Mm not fucking you, your first time isn’t –nghff– going to be on my damn couch,” his voice is strained.

“Want it,” you tell him, eyes teary with how needy you feel.

“And you think I don’t?” He snaps at you. His reaction makes your heart flutter and your pussy throb, “God, you are sooo –ngh– feel so good, sugar.”

His grip is guiding you now, taking control of the pace, of the pressure. He holds you tightly to him, slipping his cock through your slick folds, the head of his cock bumping your clit. Lewd wet sounds are coming from you and if you weren’t so horny you might’ve been embarrassed at how aroused you are.

The head of his cock catches on your pussy hole and you flutter around the very tip of him, a loud grunt coming from Johnny, his chest rumbling with the force of it.

“Please?” You try again, while he’s weak.

He shakes his head at you, his own expression dazed, “No…” he grits out, cock twitching against you.

You push down a bit on him, his eyes shoot to yours, a restrained kind of anger residing inside them, “I said no.” He scolds.

His chastising makes your cunt flutter against him again and his eyes roll back, he pulls you away from him. He manhandles you onto your back so you’re laying against the couch, he pulls off his shirt before spreading your legs open for him, his hips fitting between them.

Resting his cock between your folds again, slipping against you, “You take what I give you, or you get nothing, doll.”

You hum out a moan, letting him do whatever he wants to you. He tugs his shirt up your chest, exposing your upper half to him, mouth immediately going for one of your nipples, sucking and licking at it. The feeling making you whine, chest rising up into him, hips chasing his.

When he pulls away, he nips at you a bit, a shudder running down your spine. As he looks you in your eyes again he says, “Jesus, you have no idea how fucked out you look right now, pretty little girl, so fucken wet, so goddamn needy.”

He grinds down into you, leaning his body against yours, his weight resting on his forearms beside your head. Your hands grip his bare back, his head rests beside your ear, lips whispering filth to you.

“Want me to fuck you so badly hmm? Won’t fuck any of your little boyfriends –ngh– but you’re beggin’ me for my cock,” his words are disrupted by the moans he lets out at the feeling of your slippery cunt.

“Mhmm,” you agree because, yeah pretty much, “I’d let you do almost –hah–  anything to me,” you tell him.

He curses, “Fucken filthy, you’re making me lose my goddamn mind, doll.”

You wrap your legs around his hips, locking them behind him, his movements grow more urgent, desperately humping into you. He pulls his head from your ear to kiss you deeply, tongue exploring your mouth, it has you moaning into him.

Pulling back, he checks, “Let me do anything?”

You nod your head at him in confirmation.

“Open your mouth,” his thumb tugs your lip down.

You open your mouth for him and he spits into your mouth, onto your tongue, the action makes you gasp, face hot.

“Swallow,” he says, eyelids low.

His voice makes you shudder and you swallow his spit down, the sight of it makes him curse. He kisses you again, taking your breath away. Your fingernails dig into his back.

His hips are rutting into you, pace growing quicker, the wet noises sounding slicker, the way he glides over your clit has your eyes crossing behind closed lids. Your moans turn into whimpers, right on the precipice of cumming.

Johnny pulls his lips back, forehead resting against yours, his brows knit together, moans falling from his lips. His tongue flicks over his lip quickly, you’re gasping under him.

“Look so fucken perfect, doll. Should I keep you like this under me? Play with you how I like, mmm?”

His words and deep voice are what send you over the edge, the idea of him teasing you how he pleases has you cumming. You’re sputtering out nonsensical words, whimpers ruining any words you try to create.

Johnny groans at the sight of you cumming, he looks down between the two of you, enamoured by how he’s sliding through your folds. His cock wet and shiny from your slick and cum, it has a shudder running down his spine.

“Wan you to – nghfffuck me nex time, wan – hah – na be fill with you, –mm–  with your – ngh – cum,” you’re babbling to him, barely making sense to yourself, you aren’t even convinced you’re talking right now.

But Johnny knows you are, your words have him cumming violently, dick jerking against your cunt, his cum spilling all over your pussy and lower stomach. His groans turn into moans, and then he’s whimpering as he keeps rutting against you.

He looks at your lower half and the way his cum has gotten all over you, he uses two fingers to scoop it up and shoves them in your mouth. The taste bitter but you suck his fingers clean, swallowing around them. His gaze is captivated by you, groaning at you eating his cum.

Johnny gets up from you and tugs on his sweats, walking away momentarily and coming back not long later with a washcloth, wiping the rest of his cum off of you. When he’s cleaned it off you, he tugs your shirt back down, giving you back some of your modesty. Wandering off again, he disposes of the cloth and comes back with a glass of water.

“Drink this, sweetness,” he instructs, handing the cup to you.

Sitting up on the couch, you accept the cup and drink it down, appreciating the kindness. He sits beside you and strokes his hands up and down your thighs.

He takes the cup from you and places it out of the way, you’re a little dazed still, lost for words at what just happened.

“This can’t happen again,” he tells you gently.

Your expression is confused, “Why not?”

“I won’t be able to control myself next time.”

“I didn’t want you to this time,” you retort.

“Sugar, it’s not just a couple years between us, it’s a decade,” he stresses, “This is inappropriate.”

“Johnny, I appreciate your concern but I am an adult and I can choose who I sleep with.”

“I don’t want to defile you,” he’s terrified of ruining you somehow, of taking advantage.

“If you don’t want to ‘defile’ me, I’ll go fuck someone else and then it won’t be like I lost my virginity to you.” You’re just teasing him.

“Do not fuck someone else,” the look he gives you is even and serious, not even considering the idea of you having sex with someone else. He doesn’t find your comment funny.

You ask him eagerly, “Does that mean you will have sex with me?”

The look on his face is one of a good man trying so hard to stick to his morals. You smile at him sweetly and he practically melts for you, he grabs you and pulls you to him for a hug. Laying back on the couch with you resting on top of him.

He sighs, “Maybe one day.”

You can work with that for now, you smile to yourself, proud of your small win.

✰ ✰ ✰

A/N: Thank you for reading it all!!! I hope you enjoyed it; I wrote a 1k outline for this fic and I wasn’t expecting it to get this long but I’m not mad about it :)) Hopefully you aren’t either! I have a part two planned for this, I’ll probably only write it if people ask for it just cause this one took me a few days to write heheh. As always, requests are open, but don’t hesitate to reach out if you have questions about me, my blog, or specific fics, I love interacting with everyone and answering questions <33 I LITERALLY LOVE YOU ALL

˗ˏˋPart twoˎˊ˗

[chris-slut]

BIRTHDAY SEX

pairing: dom!chris x sub!reader

summary: chris, being the forgetful boyfriend he is, forgot to get you birthday gift. you try to hold your emotions in but chris can tell your pissed off. he tells you he has an idea on how he can make it up to you..

!all chris p.o.v.!

!warnings!: SMUT, pet names (ma, princess, sweetheart, who’re, mama, slut), oral; fem!receiving, no p in v, fingering, daddy kink?, aftercare (fluff i guess?).

author’s note: first post on here, probably the last to since i have no clue how to fully use tumblr 😭.

“HEY BIRTHDAY girl!” nick says as he walks into the room, holding a bag full of who knows what. my eyebrow raises as i replay what my brother said.

fuck.

i run my hands over my face as i notice her, my girlfriend, walk out in the sluttiest little black dressed that hugged her curves in ways i didn’t know were possible.

a huge smiles plastered on her face, grabbing the bag right out of my brothers hand, “thank you nickkk,” she tells him.

i can’t believe i forgot my own girlfriends birthday.

she walks over to me and sits down on the couch, her legs crossing over mine. “hi baby,” she whispers to me as i turn my head to look at her.

her hairs straightened and is laying over shoulders, her mascara clumped on. all i can think about is how it would look running down her face while i fuck her brains out.

“hey mama,” i tell her. she looks at me like she’s waiting for something— a birthday present of course. i look at her in guilt as i bite my lip.

“what’s wrong?” she asks me as her hands rub over my thighs, looking up at my through her lashes. my breathe hitches as i feel her hands rub circles against me.

“i uhm—“ i say, clearing my throat, “forget your birthday present.” i watch as her eyes shut close for a second as a sigh escapes her lips. i fucked up.

“i’m sorry sweetheart, i really am!” i whisper yell, not wanting my brothers to hear. she shakes her head as she laughs dryly.

“it’s fine chris. i thought you would anyway,” she says as she stands up and places the bag nick gave her on the table.

i watch from the couch as she walks up the stairs. her dress slowly going up. i know shes pissed off, so i sit here and wait for her to cool off.

a few minutes later matt walks in, looking at the empty spot next to me and raising an eyebrow. “where’s your girl?” he asks as i shrug, “upstairs somewhere.”

i watch as his eyes roll and he shakes his head. “are you not gonna go after her?” he says as my tongue pokes the inside of my cheek, “guess i will.”

standing up, i place my phone down on the coffee table in front of me and quickly walk up the stairs, knocking on her door.

no response.

taking matter into my own hands, i open the door to find her standing there in only her slutty little pajama shorts and a sports bra.

she quickly turns to look at me, her eyes meeting mine. i waste no time shutting and locking the door, biting my lip as i walk up to her.

“hey there princess,” i whisper as my hands land on her waist, placing soft kisses along her jawline. i hear her heart beat fasten as she doesn’t reply.

“you were just having some attitude downstairs and now you can’t reply, what’s with that?” i mumble as my lips trail slowly down her neck, placing wet and sloppy kisses along her throat.

“fuck chris—“ she whimpers out as her hands land in my hair, tugging on it slightly. the only thing that does for me is turn me on more than i already am, placing a harder bite onto her neck.

“lay.” i tell her, she backs up and falls back on the bed. “look at you, listening to me like a little slut,” i chuckle dryly as i kiss down to her exposed cleavage.

without asking, i rip the sports bra off and throw it to god knows where, attacking her breast with sloppy kisses. “shit..” her breathe hitches as i place a nipple in my mouth, twirling my tongue around it.

“oh fuck,” she moans a little louder than before, my fingers going to her lips. “can’t be so loud baby, don’t want them to hear do you?” her head quickly shakes as i shove my fingers into her mouth. “suck,” i tell her.

i feel her slowly starts to suck on my fingers as i slowly start placing wet and sloppy kissing all down to under her belly button. she whimpers every kiss i place, turning me on more and more.

my fingers slide out her mouth, a pop noise coming from her mouth. her hips buck as i slide her shorts off.

my eyes widen as her bare pussy is on display in front of my face, “such a slut, not wearing any underwear. you knew i was coming up were— didn’t you?” i ask as she nods.

“words please.” that causes a moan to escape past her lips, “yes- i knew you were gonna come up here.” shit that turned me on more than it should.

i place her legs over my shoulders as i run the fingers that were covered in her saliva over her folds, whimpers escaping out her mouth. “fuck, don’t stop,” she moans as her back arches.

i plunge my middle finger inside of her, curving them as i move my tongue to lick her folds. her hips slowly buck forward, trying to get more of my finger into her.

pushing her hips down, i remove my finger, “who said you can be in control?” i reply in a growl as both my ring and middle finger enter her.

i move them in and out at a medium place as i place my face between her thighs, sucking thighs slowly, teasing her the most i can.

“jesus fuck chris, don’t be a tease!” she says as i remove my fingers, wanting nothing more than to taste her on my tongue instead.

my mouth lands on her clit, sucking on it slowly as i place my hands on her hips to hold them hold. my tongue plunges inside of her as my nose rubs against her. i go up and down as i use my nose to pleasure her folds.

“when did you learn to- FUCK- do this!” she moans out and places her hands in my hand grinding her pussy against my face the slightest bit.

“been thinking about doing this to you, wanting to use you like the slut you are,” i mumble back from her clit, sucking in all the juices i can.

i flick my tongue up and down at the fastest pace i can, my hands now drawing shapes on her thighs as i hear her whimpering, a pillow now shoved on her face.

“look at you, such a little whore you can even keep it down,” i say as i hear her moan, “fuck chris— please don’t stop!”

“why shouldn’t i?” i ask as i slowly pull away, her hands pushing my head back down. “i’m so close, so close chris!” she says which makes me smirk, putting my face right back into her pussy.

slowly, i start spelling my name out. when she notices what i’m doing, she moans a little louder than before. guess i know what turns her.

h. her hands grip against her bed comforter under her, grinding her face against mine the best she could.

r. “d-daddy!” i hear her moan, the only thing that does is fasten my past. hearing her call me daddy made me do more then just spell my name.

i. my nails dig into her thighs as i spell it more aggressively. “you have no clue what saying that’s done ma,” i mumble from her clit.

s. i feel the pre cum coming out of my tip. shit the way her back arches, the scratches i left on her thighs, her slutty little waist shaking, it’s all making me act like a fucking animal. i pull away as i start to place nearly five sloppy kisses against her clit, thighs and anywhere else my body lets me move to.

t. i move my head right back down to her pussy, spelling t as aggressive as i can, “fuck chris, gonna cum!” she moans out as i rub her hips, running my hands up and grasp her tits, “cum on my tongue like the slut you are.”

o— fuck. her hot liquid squirts onto my face and mouth. i feel her whimper out of pleasure as her back arches once last time. licking the liquid off my face with my tongue, i crawl up to her and pull her into one last sloppy, wet, make out.

“you like that, don’t you? feeling yourself all on my tongue. fuck your so hot baby,” i mutter against her lips as i pull away. she’s looking at me through her eyelashes again which makes me place a few more sloppy kisses against her chest, marking spots only i could see.

the air smells like sex, sweat dripping from her body as she grabs her shorts. “no way, i’ll go get towels and clean you up baby.”

throwing my sweatpants on and running out the room, i grab her a towel and walk back to her room. “here, sit up baby,” i whisper as i rub her body, her biting her lip as she watches me.

i reach over to her clean laundry bin and grab her a pair of plaid pajama pants and a tank top, throwing them on for her. “you feel better sweetheart?” i ask as she nods.

throwing my black t-shirt on, i ruffle my hair up and grab a new blanket. she lays down on my chest as soon as i sit in the bed and i run my fingers through her hair.

“i’m sorry for forgetting your birthday present mama,” i tell her as she nods. “i think i would take that over a birthday present any day.”

i smirk as i place a kiss against her hairline and temple, wrapping the blanket around her. “oh yeah?” i tease as i feel her cuddle as close to me as she can.

“oh yeah, for sure.”

like said , don’t expect me to post again cause this shit is ass 😭😭.

[atinylittlepain]

ok so given that the oscars just happened, imagine a joel x actress!reader. before everything went to shit joel was a normal human being who loved watching movies and like any basic person had a celebrity crush. fast forward and the world has gone to shit and joel and ellie (and maybe tommy too) go on a patrol that goes wrong and get saved by miss “i just smashed a guys head in with my oscar” or something like that, just a fluff and fun imagine that isnt gonna break my heart in a million pieces like last nights episode

oh my god, your mindddddd - I love this idea :)

Big Fan

Joel Miller x actress!reader

Joel Miller masterlist

Joel recognizes her right away. After all, she starred in his favorite movie of all time.

warnings | 18+ a little angst, nothing wild, this is fluff through and through

Read part two!

.......................

“Are you–”

“I am.”

“You were in–”

“I was.”

“Well I’ll be damned.” 

“Alright, somebody better start speaking in full sentences, because I have no clue what the hell is going on.” Joel huffs, glancing at Ellie who's looking at him like he’s gone crazy, her gun still cocked at the woman in front of them.

“What? You don’t recognize her, kid? I just showed you Curtis and Viper.” Ellie’s brow furrows, but then she looks back at the woman and her eyes finally widen in recognition.

“Holy shit.” The woman laughs, eyes still focused on the barrel of Ellie’s gun.

“That’s not usually the movie people recognize me from. But I suppose it was my big break.” Joel nudges Ellie, muttering for her to put her “damn gun away, jesus christ,” and she quickly tucks it back in her belt.

He’s trying to not be weird right now, they did just kill five clickers together, but he’s finding it hard not to lose his cool over the woman who had been a silly crush of his since he first saw that cheap action movie as a teenager. He knows she did much better films afterward, remembers hovering behind the couch one night while Sarah was watching one of those awards shows, lingering just a bit longer when he saw her giving an acceptance speech with a blinding smile in a dress that probably cost more than his house. She’s certainly less elegant-looking now, but even after twenty years in a world like this, he can’t help the quick kick of his heart at actually meeting this woman in the flesh.

He clears his throat, also trying to clear his mind.

“Are you alone?” She sighs, wiping the blade of her knife on her jeans before sliding it back into its sheath.

“I wasn’t, and then I was. We were headed toward a settlement we heard about, I think a bit further north from here?” Joel keeps his expression steady, but can feel Ellie glancing at him. Movie star or not, he knows they have to be careful about who finds out about Jackson. But apparently, this woman isn’t just pretty, and she seems to pick up on the heavy pause after what she said.

“Do you two know about the place I’m talking about? Are we close?” Joel, sighs, looking at Ellie before making a decision that Tommy is probably going to smack him for later.

“We, um– we’re from there, actually. If you’re talking about where I think you’re talking about.” She huffs out a laugh, and offers them that megawatt smile Joel remembers seeing on his TV screen. Ellie, meanwhile, scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she glares at Joel.

“No shit. Do you think you have room for one more?” Joel’s eyes dart once more to Ellie, just seeing the subtle shake of her head, but he chooses to ignore it. How could he say no to the woman who had, embarrassingly, been one of his first wet dreams?

“You’ll have to talk with my brother, but I’m sure you’ll be welcome to stay on.” Megawatt, megawatt, megawatt. He reckons that smile could melt steel beams.

…

“Joel, what the fuck–”

“Ellie–”

“No, what are you thinking? If not Tommy, Maria’s gonna be so pissed she’ll probably cut your balls off.” He shushes the girl, glancing ahead at the woman hiking further in front of them.

“Look, she’s all alone– hardly a threat– and she’s looking for somewhere to stay–” She scoffs.

“Oh, so this has nothing to do with the way your eyeballs practically popped out of your head just looking at her?” He grumbles, hand tightening around the strap of his rifle.

“You just mind your own business, alright? I’ll take care of it.” Ellie huffs, starting to trudge further ahead of him, but not before muttering out “whatever you say, fanboy.” Joel is stunned still by her words.

“Where the hell did you get that word from?” She turns on her heel, walking backwards for a beat as she smirks at him.

“One of those old magazines. Pretty sure she was on the front page if you wanna borrow it.” Before he can get a word in edgewise, she’s already turning back around and continuing their hike back to Jackson.

…

“Holy shit. Joel, look who it is!” Joel grunts, nudging Tommy out of his starstruck stupor.

“Yeah, I know. Just hiked five miles with her.” Tommy laughs, slapping him on the back before grinning at her.

“It’s real nice to meet you. You know, Joel here had your poster on his bedroom wall–” The nudge he gives his brother this time is a little less friendly, causing Tommy to grumble and rub his arm. She, however, takes it in stride, laughing lightly as she shifts in her boots.

“I’m flattered, really. It’s, um, it’s nice to meet you, Tommy.” Tommy’s eyes go wide.

“I can’t believe you just said my name. This is crazy–”

“Tommy.” Joel cuts his brother off with a hard look before he embarrasses himself anymore. He clears his throat, seeming to get a hold of himself as Joel continues.

“She had been traveling with a group, looking for this place. She’s the only one left though. Was hoping to join the town.” Tommy grins again, glancing between her and Joel.

“Well, I’m sure we can make that happen. I think Joel would kill me if I didn’t let–” He squeezes Tommy’s shoulder hard, willing him to shut his mouth. 

“That little house next to ours is still empty. Why don’t we set her up there?” Tommy’s smile at his brother’s words is all too smug for Joel’s taste, but he still nods, turning his attention back to her.

“If that’s alright with you, ma’am. I’ll let the folks know to turn the gas and electric back on for that place.” She smiles brightly at that.

“That would be amazing. Thank you so much. I owe you all big time.” Tommy snorts.

“I’m pretty sure you can pay Joel back with an autograph, he’d probably cre—“ Joel’s heard enough, resorting to kicking Tommy in the ankle to shut him up. Ellie huffs from where she’s watching their pathetic display.

“Alright, well if you two freaks are done making fools of yourselves, I’ll show her over to that house.” 

…

When Joel gets home, the first thing he does is look at that DVD. He had found it a week or two ago on a patrol shift, left in a hollowed-out RV. Ellie was less than impressed and Maria refused to show it at movie night because it’s so gory, but he held onto it anyways. He can still remember going to see it in the theater with Tommy, both of them too young to get in if not for their friend working the ticket booth. He flips the case over in his hands, and sure enough, there she is on the back cover, looking impossibly beautiful while firing a machine gun. What’s not to like, right?

He’s broken out of his revelry by the sound of the front door opening, and soon enough, Ellie is stomping up the stairs to come looking for him. When she finds him in his bedroom, sitting on the end of his bed, she glances at the DVD he’s holding, a grin spreading over her face.

“Just like you remember, huh, old man?” He grumbles, getting up to set the movie back on the bookshelf before turning back to Ellie.

“She settling in alright?” She hums, nodding lightly.

“Yep, made a beeline for a shower. Told me to thank you. I told her you’d be coming around for your autograph later.” His face crumples in indignation while Ellie lets out a cackle.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But in all seriousness, I think she’s interested– in you– which pains me to even say, but, I figure you deserve to know that the woman of your pubescent dreams was asking questions about you.” Joel’s jaw goes slack, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

“She– she was asking about me?” Ellie nods around a smirk.

“Mmhmm. And I told her you’re a grumpy old bum who doesn’t take kindly to strangers.” He huffs, but she laughs again.

“Sorry, kidding again. I didn’t tell her much. Just that you’ll be around. But if I were you, I’d “be around” sooner rather than later, before the rest of Jackson gets a piece of her. Snatch her up before there’s sweeter bait to bite down on, you know?” He thinks briefly that he needs to see just what sort of magazines this kid is reading, because he can’t quite believe what’s coming out of her mouth. He grumbles, shaking his head at her antics.

“There ain’t gonna be any snatching going on. Just mind your–” She huffs, already walking out of his room.

“Mind my business, yeah, yeah, I know. But think about what I said, old man. Better cast your line quick for this one. My guess is you weren’t the only one who had her poster in your bedroom back before.” 

He’s not letting that kid read magazines anymore.

…

When he steps out on his porch later in the afternoon, fully intent on what Ellie has affectionately started calling his “adult nap time,” he’s interrupted by someone calling his name. He catches sight of her sitting on the porch of the little house next door, waving and smiling at him like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Hey, neighbor.” He tentatively waves back, but that doesn’t seem to satisfy her as she motions for him to join her. He sighs, rather stiffly walking over to her porch and joining her on the bench seat, keeping a very respectable distance between them. Clickers, raiders, general imminent danger, he can handle. Pretty lady? That’s touchy. Pretty lady who he imagined marrying as a teenager? Just put him out of his misery already. He knows it’s ridiculous, that none of that matters now. She’s just as worn and weathered as the rest of them by this crumbled world. But that smile she keeps flashing him might just bring him to his knees.

“I wanted to thank you– for bringing me along. I was, uh, starting to lose hope back there a little bit.” He nods, glancing at her.

“No need for thanks. Just the right thing to do in this world. I’m sorry– about your group. I don’t know what happened, but that couldn’t have been easy being out there on your own.” She shrugs, waving off his sentiment.

“It was barely a group to begin with. Just some folks who happened to get out of the San Francisco QZ together.” His brain is quickly trying to knit together the movie star he remembers from the past and this woman who sits before him now, an obvious edge to her.

“Were you in California? Back when everything…” She nods, her face set in a grim look.

“LA, where else? Now that was a nightmare. I bet the only worse place to be when everything went down was New York. Bodies everywhere. Don’t think I’ll ever forget it.” She lets out a humorless laugh before glancing at him.

“That movie you like so much? I remember when I got the role, I had no idea how I was gonna pull it off. Grizzled heroine with a dark past and a penchant for violence. I was nothing like her. But now, I feel a whole lot more like her and a whole lot less like me.” She sighs, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I dumped that on you.” Joel is quick to shake his head, leaning over his thighs to catch her gaze.

“No, no. I get it– in my own way, I guess. The world changed and– we had to change with it.” That coaxes a crooked smile out of her as she looks at him. A simple silence descends between them as they share quiet smiles. She finally giggles, scrunching her nose at him.

“That girl– Ellie? I think she said something about you wanting an autograph?” Joel can feel the hot blush creeping up his neck as his face goes slack. She just splits out in a laugh, tipping her head back in delight.

“I’m sorry, I’m kidding. But, you know, what I went by, what people still call me, that isn’t my real name.” Joel’s eyebrows quirk up and she sighs, shaking her head.

“Just a stage name. I don’t really mind people calling me that, but can I tell you my real name?” He can feel the smile tugging at his mouth as he nods. Before he knows what she’s doing, she’s taking his hand into her lap, slowly tracing out her name with her finger across his palm. An autograph, of sorts. He’s pretty sure his brain short-circuits, just barely stringing together her name as she finishes. He murmurs it lowly and she offers him her brightest smile yet, still holding his hand lightly in her own.

“And you’re Joel, right?” He’s only a little embarrassed by how quickly he nods.

“Mmhmm. Miller– Joel Miller, yep.” She lets out a breathy laugh, now clasping his hand in a firm shake.

“It’s nice to really meet you, Joel Miller.” 

[fairytsuk1]

lawyer!alex coming home frustrated after a long day at work<33

you’d been making dinner, languidly stirring a stew of meat and potatoes. alex was working late, so you’d started dinner late. you bit your lip wondering what the hold up was.

you just weren’t expecting the slam of the front door and the immediate way alex backs you up against the counter. your socked feet sit between his spread ones as a lewd hand comes to grope your ass and tits, “baby.”

“a-alex? oh! you’re home late,” you murmur, voice pitching as he laves hot kisses over your neck. “how was work—“

“fuckin’ awful. no one was listening to me, pissing me off every second,” he pants hoarsely as eager hands hike up your sundress. “kept making me think of how good you always are for me. fuck, you’d get on your knees right now if i asked, right?”

his words leave you weak and your head falls back against the shoulder to let out soft, pleasures puffs.

“i would, nngh, you’re so eager…!”

alex sucks on your pulse point; your eyes rolling back as you finally mewl for him. a rough hand grips your hip and pulls you back till his hips slot against yours. he’s so hard, and he fucking grinds into your soft body.

you’re scrambling to turn off the stove, “ah! alex, fuck.”

“god, you’re so tiny. i could break you,” his words pointed with another desperate hump of his hips. “i bet y’re soaking, you need this cock, don’t you? you’re such a slut. you’ll do anything.”

“ohgod, i would. i-i am!”

he smears precum against your thighs, fingers tugging your panties from your syrupy folds. a strong hand forces you forward and you’re gripping the counter for any type of hold.

his fat head smears your arousal together and you’re already mewling. alex sighs behind you, pussy lips grinding against the length of his dick as he bumps against your swollen clit with every cant of his hips.

“fuck, baby, ‘m putting it in,” he grits, fingers near bruising your hips as he slides home. “shit, you’re so perfect letting me use you like this…!”

it’s so primal how he humps into you, his dress hoes still planted firmly as alex rocks up into you witha heaving sigh, “mygod, you feel amazing. missed this sweet cunt so bad, you have no idea.”

“fuck me, ohmy—alex!”

it’s so hot and wet; slippery as he drives himself into you again and again. his shaky hand rubs eager circles as you squeeze him. he can’t get enough of the ring of white surrounding his cock, and then you’re looking back at him with teary eyes as he just uses you.

the soft pap of his hips is loud, and you’re keening to get away from how he nestles himself right against your womb. you’re on your tiptoes, teeth gritting as you moan out, “‘s too much, wait!”

“don’t run from me now, honey. my sweet little wife needs this, you know? you need this. there’s—ngh!!! fuckk, there’s no shame in it baby.”

“just let me fuck you, that’s it. let me pump you full, okay?”

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hi,

I just stumbled upon your blog and I am already obsessed with your stories.🥰 Your writing style and the way you describe the characters is simply amazing.

Anyways, I‘ve got an idea for a one-shot, could you please write one, where the reader is Dr.Lecters patient and they bump into a very distraught Will after his session and start talking to him. Hannibal get‘s jealous, because he thinks Will is interested in the reader,after the conversation ended, tension is really high during her sessions and it get‘s steamy in the end.(nsfw?)

Hannibal x Reader: What's mine is mine

Warning: smut, oral ( f receiving), no use of y/n, penetration ( p in v), possessive behavior, jealous Hannibal, anger, not proofread, gn reader, female anatomy.

Word count: 1,2 K

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“I've told you a thousand times that that door is for exiting clients only and you continue to use it.”

“Oh come on Hannibal you know how i hate using the other door. That empty waiting room always puts me on edge.”

“And talking with another patient is prohibited, you know that.”

You spin on your heels, angrily looking at your therapist.

“For the love of god hannibal! Did you see what he looked like? He was shaking so much I thought he was having some sort of seizure!”

You’d stumbled onto a very distressed will on your way into your appointment and simply couldn’t feel like you needed to help him.

“I'm surprised you let him leave at all. That man was a complete wreck.”

“It is my job to know what my clients need.”

“Clearly you're not doing it very well.”

You could tell you’d hit a nerve because instead of debating you Hannibal simply closed the door and stomped over to his chair. You shook your head. You didn’t understand why Hannibal was so worked up about you talking to Will. It’s not like you’d done anything wrong.

And the truth was you hadn't done anything wrong. If anything you’d shown you were an empathetic person. You weren’t the issue. Will was. Or more accurately, Hannibal's jealousy of Will was. Seeing you talk to Will had sent Hannibal into a sort of spiral. In his mind you belong to him but in reality you don't.

“Okay what the hell is up with you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh so is your face just stuck like that now? You gonna give me the stink eye for the rest of the session? I mean come on! You’re acting like you caught me kissing him.”

Hannibal's body tensed at your words. He forced himself to open his mouth.

“Did you want to?”

“What?”

“Did you want to kiss him?”

“Oh for fucks sake what does that have to-”

“Answer the question.”

Hannibal had risen from his seat. He walked over to you boxing you against him and the wall behind you. You looked up at him staring into his eyes. Hannibal was so close to you that you could smell his perfume. You took a shaky breath in.

“No.”

“What?”

“No, I didn't want to kiss him. I’m not interested in him.”

No in him but in someone. That's what your words sounded like to Hannibal. He desperately needed to find out who you were interested in. Even if it meant having to get them out of his way. 

“Who then?”

“You’re kidding right?”

Hannibal continued to stare at you as he awaited you to answer his question. You shook your head at him.

“You’re such an idiot.”

You pushed forward, hitting Hannibal's shoulder with yours as you moved away from him. Hannibal grabbed your wrist, stopping you from getting too far.

“Who?”

You tugged your arm out of his grip, turning to face him. You looked pissed, it caught Hannibal off guard.

“You! It’s you, you ass!” 

Hannibal stared at you. You’d never yelled at him before. He felt rooted to his spot. He barely noticed you moving forward before you were tugging his tie. You gave him a bruising kiss. He moved to wind his hand around your waist but before he could you pushed off him.

“There. Satisfied?”

No. He would never be satisfied. He could still taste you on his tongue. And the taste was addicting. He surged forward grabbing your head with his hand. He shoved his mouth against yours, kissing you roughly. You let him, your hands moving to grip his suit jacket. The two of you stumbled across the room, hands wildly pulling at each other's clothes. Somewhere in the middle of the process you’d managed to unbutton Hannibal's shirt and he’d managed to remove your pants. Your body fell onto the loveseat, hand moving to tug Hannibal on top of you. He kissed at your skin, his hand moving to shove your shirt up. You gasped as his hands cupped your breast, kneading them in his hand. 

“Oh Hannibal!”

God he loved the way you sounded, gasping his name. He placed a kiss to the valley of your breasts before insching himself lower. He placed small kisses all over your stomach. You watched him with glazed eyes, observing him until he was on his knees before you. He tugs your underwear off your body, moving to place it in his back pocket. You raise your eyebrows to him and all he does is shrug. You squeal as Hannibal tugs you closer to him. He leaned his head down until he’s inches from your pussy. You bite your lip in anticipation. As soon as Hannibal's tongue makes its way to your fold you can’t help but throw your head back. Hannibal grips onto your thighs as you squirm against the loveseat. 

“Oh fuck. There! Hannibal there- shit!”

Hannibal grinned against your pussy, reveling in the way your hand grabs onto his hair in desperation. His fingers moved inside you, helping his tongue in his task to make you cum. You could feel yourself clenching around Hannibal's fingers, silently telling him you were close. If that wasn’t enough the high pitched moans you kept letting out should have been a sign. Hannibal sucked at your clit and you were a goner. Your hand gripped onto the love seat as you came. Hannibal watched you breath for a moment before beginning to climb over you. You tugged him down for a kiss, tugging at his hair. He bit your lip in return. 

Hannibal's dick nudged against your thigh, his pre cum mixing with your own juices. You smiled up at him, wrapping your legs around him. Hannibal took the hint, moving to align his dick with your entrance. He glanced at you for a moment, awaiting your approval. You gave him a small nod. He moved slowly into you. Once he’d bottomed out Hannibal stopped moving, giving you time to adjust. You opened your mouth in a silent moan, brows furrowing as you felt Hannibal twitch inside you. He desperately wanted to move but he would wait for you okay.

“Jesus Hannibal, what are you waiting for? Move!”

Well that was one way to put it. 

Hannibal began to thrust into you, his movements growing more rapid as your pleasure increased. He placed one of his feet on the ground, attempting to give himself more strength. You drew a breath in as he rocked into you rapidly. Hannibal leaned down tugging one of your breasts into his mouth. He sucked at your nipple, making sure to leave a mark. From the way you clenched around him he could tell you enjoyed it so he continued his ministrations. 

“Are you almost there?”

“Uhum please don’t stop-fuck-please i’m…”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, fingers digging into Hannibal's shoulder as you came. Hannibal felt you sag beneath him, taking it as his chance to guide your movements. His hands found your hips gripping them tightly as his thrusts began to flatter. Pretty soon Hannibal seed spilled into your walls. He laid down beside you, pulling your body closer into his.

“Remind me to make you angry more often.”

“Careful dear. That's a dangerous game.”

“Maybe that's how I like it.”

[josru]

a little rant:

If you need to understand one thing about the Bear subreddit, here it is.

It's not a supportive place for women, let alone black women/women of colour. (Not surprising, as reddit is male and white dominated.) Sydney gets mad hate for daring to be apart of the main relationship in the show (that is now defunct), something that the writers wrote for her? Regardless if you see Sydcarmy as romantic or not. The whole point of the Bear is their partnership.

And yet the Bear fandom on reddit loves to diminish her role, and act as if Sydney is an uppity black woman who needs to be rid of. They act like it's surprising that people want to talk about her or like her. And they also think Sydcarmy is mad overrated and implausible. They bring it up constantly because it pisses them off that a sizeable portion of us love it.

Probably because Sydney is an actual character we can relate to and root for. But oh no, men don't like that because that means she isn't a perfect little white fantasy, and she has actual problems and ideas and speaks on them, and she's BLACK, god forbid!! And they could never have empathy for someone who wasn't themselves. Sydney is annoying to them because it reminds them they don't care about other people.

It's barely a place for white women too, because they only like you if you're a gf/therapist/not your own person. A flat, 2-D image with no problems. They don't care about Jess or Claire, they just want to fuck them. Even in this post, the respect of relatability and empathy is given to Richie in the title, because he finally "got some", despite the picture being of Jess. Like, great, guys, you diminished a woman (a PERSON) to being a "win" for a man, because that's all that matters, right? Whether or not a woman is a fuckable prize?

Even the writing of the show actually just pushes the whole "if women = gf, = only gf, nothing else" trope. So in a weird way, I guess I know where they're getting it from, but I expected more from adult men? My bad.

Women deserve to be more than someone's fantasy!! I am sick and tired of this misogynistic drivel. I also think it's fucked up how much of these dudes on reddit love Richie this much. Like, we get it, you think he's a self-help sigma alpha chad king now. Just keep ignoring the problems he keeps creating, how irritating he can be sometimes, as well as the fact that men picking up their lives will always have way more support than female characters. Richie is not some underdog character lol. The narrative of the show has made it clear he is very beloved and will have a nice, sweet arc.

Unlike Sydney, and Marcus, and apparently maybe even Tina. But yes, keep talking about how your white male character is the underdog who is being sooo mistreated and finally got something he deserved, even though in actuality, Syd and every other POC got treated like shit this season. It's like they swapped them, the real main characters, and made them the underdogs/tertiary while Richie has become so important. But it's key to reddit's white male victim complex that Richie is finally getting "good treatment" when he never suffered being completely ignored by the writers at all, and he was never at risk of that either.

[klttn]

omg it wasn’t my request but adam and brat reader PLEASE. like reader being an absolute bitch to adam

𐙚 ⋆˚ 𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚙 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚒 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 ⋆ ｡ ྀི

— 𝜗𝜚 adam x f!reader

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 summary : you slap adam and he shows you why that was not a good idea. nsfw. slapping. degrading. adam is mean but you like it. crying. dacryphilia. bruises. power imbalance. misogyny.

SLAP. the harsh sound of your palm across adam’s face rung through the enclosure of your shared bedroom. “fuck you.” you spat, annoyance evident in your voice.

“oh you little bitch!” adam held his cheek, a smirk was plastered on his face as if he was actually enjoying this. “do you really think that was a good idea?” his voice was condescending and arrogant and all it did was fuel your rage… and partly your cunt.

"you’re leaving me again! for the third night in a row to hang out with those stupid assholes you call friends.” you were pissed now. “and you think you have the right to call me a bitch?” your tongue clicking against your cheek, hands on your hips. “god maybe this is why your exes chose lucifer. i bet he wouldn’t do this to me.”

ding ding ding. that struck a nerve on adam. his eyes widened before letting out a sadistic chuckle, his hands running through his hair. “is that what you really think huh?” he closed the gap in between you, the only thing separating your faces was your height difference, right hand now forcing you to look up at him, grip so harsh it hurt. “maybe you should fuck off to lucifer, i’ll have my choice of plenty of other whores lining up to get with me if you do.” your jaw clenched, you raised your hand to land another blow to adam’s cheek, his free hand stopping you before you could, "slap me again, i dare you.” so you did. freeing yourself from his grip to land the hit.

adam’s movements didn’t falter as he gripped onto your shoulders and shoved you, with ease, onto your knees, gripping a chunk of your hair, bending down and leaning in close, noses touching. “i warned you, brat,” he seethed at you, “slapping me is never a good idea.” his hand came to grip your neck and hold you in place so you couldn’t move, slightly squeezing, choking. SLAP. a whimper escaped your lips, legs spreading in front of him. another SLAP. “see, little girl, you’re the one who turns into a whore the minute i hit you, not me.” you hate to admit you how much you liked this, loved this even. “now what do we say?” you stayed silent, refusing to make eye contact. SLAP. “look at me baby, you’re not getting out of this that easily.” the hand on your throat forced you back to look at him. SLAP. “what. do. we. say.”

your lips parted, moan slipping out, cutely staring up at him with big doe eyes, “m sorry,” you mumbled, eyes darting to the floor as you said it.

“i can’t hear you, baby, speak up.” adam’s voice was cocky and condescending, forcing you, coaxing more from you.

“said m sorry for slapping you.”

adam’s smirk grew wider. “good girl.”

“s’ just-“

“what baby?” adam could tell the atmosphere at changed a little, seeing you so frustrated, both sexually and from the argument beforehand, “if it’s bratty, im slapping you again.” he wanrned, still having to make sure you knew he was in control here.

you huffed, pouting your lips and fluttering your lashes as you blinked up at him, “i miss you.”

“shit,” his breath hitched at the answer. “don’t look at me like that, fuck, how am i supposed to hurt you like that?” adam sighed, “you look adorable.”

you rolled your eyes, just when you were getting what you wanted. “pussy.” SLAP.

adam scoffed, “starting to think that maybe i’m being played here,” he grunted “this is what you wanted,” he gritted his teeth, “isn’t it baby?”

you nodded your head, wiggling your ass a little. proud of yourself.

“yeah, yeah,” adam interrupted half laughing, picking you up off the floor and placing you on the edge of his bed, “i’m gonna make you regret slapping me,” he dipped his head to kiss you, open mouthed and sloppy before positioning himself at your thighs, clothed bulge rubbing against you. “gonna show why those bitches shouldn’t have left me for lucifer.”

“hmm i don’t know, do you think you can? i think lucifer could still do it better.” you taunted, teasing and giggling.

“swear to fucking god, gonna fuck the brattiness out of you, stupid fucking lucifer is not having my girl,” adam slid your dress up, pushing your panties to the side before sliding himself in, raw, unprotected and rough. bottoming out and watching how your face contorted and eyes rolled back, this time from pleasure. “that’s what i fuckin thought, baby.”

adam paused for a second to take ahold of your hand and hold it to cup his own face, “now before you can’t move from my cock splitting you open,” he whispered, finding it hard to stay still in such a tight cunt, “slap me.”

your hand flinched back, hesitant but curious, not quite believing what you heard but wanting to obey.

“fuck baby, don’t make me repeat myself. slap me. shit it turned me on, come on little girl.” he begged, one side of his mouth twitching into a smirk, “or… are you already too cock drunk? such a pathetic baby already, can’t even take orders properly eventhough it’s what you were made for.” he was teasing you, wanting to rile you up.

seeing adam like this just made you needy, needy to please and also to be bratty and hit him more. you wanted to be a good girl for him and all the words spewing out his mouth just turning you on.

SLAP. you felt adam’s cock twitch, starting to fuck into you, he couldn’t help it, having you cute and mean, face red from the abuse of his palm from earlier. seeing how fucked up he made you from his hands and knowing how little you could do with you’re own. god it was mesmerising. made him feel so powerful, loving the slight sting your weak slaps were giving. “so cute when you’re like this, pouty and thinking you’re so strong, turns me on so much, god you’re so fuckin small and tiny, couldn’t really hurt me could you baby?” you were trying everything not to succumb to his cock, the arousal on his face from every slap having you melt further into him, the harder he’d thrust becoming addictive. “again, baby, hit me again.”

SLAP. adam was hooked, getting off so easily to being slapped but not because of the pain, their wasn’t any. that’s why he loved it, loved how no matter how hard you tried you were just a delicate little girl to him. he had all the control here and fuck did it get you off too. loving it, being so weak for him.

adam was panting, rutting into you like a dog, enjoying every minute of this “good girl.”

oh tonight was going to be interesting.

A/N : asdfghjklshsjs i don’t know what this is i just wanted to hit adam <3

[threepandas]

Bad End: Century Demons

The steam engine blasted vapor into the air. Cacophonous chatter from the crowds all around us, pressing like a physical weight. I truely did hate traveling. Granted, there was nothing for it, we were needed. Being their Majesty's Special Task Force and all. But STILL! Awful. Just, awful!

It was the pushing, really. The constant shoving. Flashs of insight into lives I wanted nothing to do with. That individual? Marriage was collapsing. This one? Had debts. The girl who just stepped on my foot, thought she was in love, but honestly? Any adult could tell you how badly it was going to end. He was using her.

Frankly, I wish we could walk. At this point? I would honestly take a flipping DONKEY! But nooooo! What has my husband decided to do? "Let's take the TRAIN, darling! It'll be an ADVENTURE! Save so much TIME!"

He's lucky I married him AT ALL. Fuck. I HAD options! Could have been a Baron's wife. Well-to-do! But NO, I wanted to HELP people. Like a FOOL. Gods, my mother was RIGHT! Cute air-heads WOULD be the death of-!

I finally spot Arthur, the sweet idiot, looking lost by our baggage. Map in hand. Like a confused puppy told to do arithmetic or be scolded, his anxiety is palpable. I gather my skirts and shove. Fuck being polite. Everyone ELSE seems to be fine, being stampeding herd animals. Why not I? Move!

"O-Oh thank goodness! Darling!" Arthur gasps, nearly dropping the map as he reaches for me as I get close. His eye are wide and his expression frazzled. Tone as though someone has been compressing his chest. "There are-! There are so many PATHS! I didn't-! And I-! Oh dear. W-what do we do? Darling, I can't-! It's so-!"

Damn it! I KNEW this would happen! This was an awful idea! Reaching for my husband's face, I cup his cheeks, propriety be damned. Pull him close to press his forhead against mine. Match my breath, dear. Focus, darling, just... focus. Close your eyes. You do not See. Curse crowded places and what they do to us. We should have moved to the countryside years ago.

But no, no Arthur would never leave his Sister. And I'll not leave him behind. Damn it all, why? WHY?

Why did she have to pick the Nobility Route?

It was bad enough, remembering this world "wasn't real". That it had a "plot" for Gods sake. Bad ENOUGH to realize that the monster under the bed very much WERE a real and present threat, that I SHOULD be concerned about. But fool that I am? Did I HAVE to fall in love with the Protagonist's brother? Sweet and foolish? A simple, if air headed man? Apparently!

All I could do, now, was try to protect him. Try and protect myself.

Ignore the nasty, judging looks, being sent our way. Piss off! The lot of you! I took no vows to YOU. Stood in no church! There us exactly ONE person in the train station I care about, and it is NONE of you, so keep your snide opinions to yourself! Breathe, Arthur. There we go, dear.

Pulling back slightly, I check his eyes. They flick and track things unseen. He is still unusually pale. He... he will be rather disappointed. He was excited to try the trains. To him? They are a bold new technology.

Maybe once we get farther from the city. Here, at least, he is drowning.

Then, a change. Sudden and swiftly building. Whatever Paths my husband traced were disappearing, narrowing, even as terror sweeped across his face. Only twice I had ever seen this before. Once, was an earthquake. The largest seen in over 400 years. The other? A bombing just before the royal wedding, we had been still engaged then. But the way he had frozen? Mid-sentence?

It is BURNED into my mind. Just like the horror that followed.

Bellowing, I command everyone to get out. Evacuate.

NOW.

But already... it is too late. Down the line of the train, terrible symbols flash into being. Molten red metal, on the side of the train cars themselves, instants before the BLOW. Unspeakable shrapnel bombs. Made of people and metal and MAGIC. The train cars lifted from the tracks by the knock back, smashing into fleeing crowds, even as the next car goes off. And then the next. And the next.

A writhing chain of death.

Like the dying spasms if a great snake.

My husband is frozen. No. As I drag him down? I realize with horror, worse. Seizing. It has NEVER been this bad! What is HAPPENING?! What Path is he SEEING that could cause such OVERLOAD? Terrified, I watch as thin trails of blood, seep from his eyes, his nose. Oh Gods. Oh GODS! Arthur? ARTHUR!

Love! Stay with me! Please! D-Darling, Please! Focus on my voice! You have to let them GO! Close your EYES, Arthur! Don't look! Please, DON'T LOOK! It's KILLING YOU!

"That's rather the point."

I stop. From on the ground, where I crawl. Dragging my unresponsive husband to safety. My gaze finally whips around to ahead of us. Amongst the chaos... stands a conductor. Pressed uniform clean and hair entirely too long. His eyes... oh Gods, his EYES. I do not need to touch him to know. That? THAT is not a human.

Not anymore.

Shrapnel flies harmlessly over us, but comes no where near him. As though where he stands is Forbidden to touch. All around him, those fleeing? Suffering? Do not notice him. Do not SEE. Yet, on instinct alone... avoid him.

Because, of course they do. B-because that?

That Is A Demon.

We weren't even remotely prepared for this. And even if we WERE. Everything is packed away. Pressed to the floor, all I can do? Is drag my husband close. Feel tear begin to fill my eyes and choke my throat, as I curse the Gods. Damn it. D-Damn it! I drag Arthur under me. A-as though... as though we were just... just resting at home. Cuddling, as we so often do.

I-It will be okay, darling. Come back to me. Arthur... Please...

(We promised to go together...)

"He really is useless, isn't he? Can't protect you. Couldn't warn you. Can't even die, where he's supposed to be. Really, how hard is it? To just get on the damned train? Quite inconsiderate, your worthless lump of a first husband. It really won't be hard, no doubt, to surpass him in every way."

I drag Arthur closer. Cradling his head to me chest. You'll have to go through ME, you fucking monster! It's.. it's a laughable defense. I'm tissue paper. We both are. With out supplies and the proper anti-demonics? H-he's going to SHRED us. But... but! I took a VOW.

Married this man.

I... I love him.

Even if he's not awake. Even if he's trapped in his own gifts by this BASTARD of a Demon. That's.. That's okay. I'm still here. W-We're still together. And I love him. Silly, ridiculous, air-headed fool that he is. My quite scholar. M-My best friend. I glare at the damnable creature before us.

"You really do have such lovely eyes." It notes, tilting it's head. "Does he appreciate them? Somehow, I doubt it. He makes you live in squalor, after all. Dresses you in rags and works you like an animal. You were meant for so much... more. I can feel it."

With a boneless grace he squats, bringing him closer even as I try to drag us away, he reaches out. One hand both perfectly human yet tipped with claws. In the distance, I hear doors being forced open. Commanding voices. Prayers and the glimpses of shining light. The Paladins are here.

Too late... I... I fear it is too late.

Demon skin touchs my face and I scream, as I am cast beneath the waves. It is so dark. Oh Gods. OH GODS. IT IS SO DARK. HELP ME. HELP ME! IT HURTS! It HuRtS! HELP M-!

"Shhh, drink deep and sink down, Love. I will be there to catch you. Forget about him. Forget about everything. You are made for so much more. We were meant to be together. Just let go, sweet."

"Just let go..."

[socra-time]

Socra’s Naruto liveblog, Ep. 61-70

Ep 61:

-I genuinely could not be less impressed by Kabuto as a villain

-lmao I like that Kiba is fully a Naruto fan now

-yeah I have no idea what the FUCK Naruto is gonna do to win this match because Neji is clobbering him like there’s no tomorrow

-ah yes, Naruto just “willpower”s his way through Neji’s supermove

-okay so I don’t agree with Neji trying to kill Hinata but I really wouldn’t mind if he killed Hinata's dad

-yeah uh FUCK the Hyuga clan and FUCK Hinata’s dad

-so obviously Neji’s story taking up such a big chunk of the episode makes sense narratively but within the context of the show itself, he’s just monologuing to Naruto for like 10 minutes lol

-wow Neji’s father’s death was some fucked-up shit

Ep 62:

-ohohoho really feeling the irony of this fight

-okay Hinata definitely doesn’t have a happy relationship with her dad, but Naruto saying she’s probably suffering as much as Neji is uh… incorrect

-Neji honey I’m so sorry, if you were fighting literally any of the less-important characters you would’ve won this fight

-Naruto is going APESHIT

-but also yes so true Naruto, please change the Hyuga clan and also beat up Hinata’s dad after becoming Hokage

-DAMN Naruto coming through with the uppercut

-between this fight and Naruto’s fight with Kiba, I’m really not sure how intelligent I’m supposed to think Naruto is because he’s supposed to be kinda stupid but he also is good at deceiving his enemies in fights????

-honestly for some reason I don’t feel super good about Naruto’s victory and I’m trying to figure out why. I think it’s because I’m not a fan of the “insane superpower MC has because they’re the Chosen One” trope that came into play with the Nine Tails chakra. Also I feel bad for Neji… but I guess in a philosophical sense he needed to lose this one to disprove his whole “fate” thing

Ep 63:

-awwww Naruto getting appreciation from the crowd was nice

-why didn’t Hinata’s dad give Neji the letter earlier???????

-nah it’s still FUCK the Hyuga clan

-also I still don’t like Hinata’s dad. I don’t care that he apologized to Neji and that Neji’s dad chose to die; he still talks about Hinata like she’s worthless and he just kinda let Neji suffer after his father’s death for almost a decade. Also he doesn’t seem to have done anything about how fucked-up his clan is

-god, knowing that Neji dies is making this episode HEARTBREAKING

-I know Kankuro withdraws for strategic reasons but also if I were him I would’ve withdrawn anyways because I am NOT fighting motherfucking Shino

Ep 64:

-the implication that Temari was just gonna clobber Shikamaru with her fan like a baseball bat if he hadn’t dodged her attack is pretty funny

-Shikamaru I like you but also I am side-eyeing you very hard right now. Gonna need Temari to beat the sexism out of you

-I love Ino she’s so silly

-why didn’t Temari just blast Shikamaru while he was thinking

-also why didn’t she just knock Shikamaru’s parachute out of the sky

-anyways good for Shikamaru but also I’m gonna need him to learn how to not be sexist

Ep 65:

-I don’t think I like Asuma’s voice

-I missed Lee so much, I’m glad he’s (kinda) back on his feet

-I love how some of the spectators are fully just betting on 12 year olds beating each other up

-also why is Naruto just allowed to be down on the field

-I don’t like Sasuke’s new outfit. Leave the onesies to Gai and Lee, Sasuke.

-Lee is really selling himself short, my poor son:(

-aaand Gaara’s kill count increases once again

Ep 66:

-time for the ultimate edgelord-off

-I feel bad for Sakura, Kakashi’s kinda been neglecting her

-I fear Lee is better than me because if Sasuke just copied the techniques I worked for literal years to develop I would be PISSED

-noooo Kiba you were so close to figuring it out-

-god the sharingan is so broken

-Gaara used “Harden”! It was super effective!

Ep 67:

-oh boy shit’s gonna go down this episode

-well damn Sasuke can lightningbend now I guess

-okay so Kakashi says he taught Sasuke the chidori because “he’s like me”. The question is how? Just because he’s really good at fighting and has a lot of chakra? Like yeah they both have the sharingan but that doesn’t seem to be related to the chidori????

-Gai and Kakashi need to stop throwing shade at each other and kiss already

-sometimes the animators draw Sasuke’s side bangs really thick and long and it looks so weird

-geez so I know I said it was off-putting to see Gaara look shaken when Lee took his weights off but hearing him screaming is a whole other level

-the sound design seriously popped off this episode

-aaaaaand shit’s going down

Ep 68:

-goddammit I think I finally have to admit that I was wrong about the Hokage being sus

-geez Gaara is really going through it

-anyways I totally called the Kazekage being Orochimaru in disguise. It took me a couple episodes but I figured it out. Also what happened to the real Kazekage?????

-god Orochimaru’s theme goes so hard

-I love how Kakashi tells Sakura to wake up Naruto and Shikamaru but doesn’t say anything about Choji or Ino

Ep 69:

-I kinda love Pakkun

-yes go Shino, go get your screentime

-I have seen WAY too much of Orochimaru’s tongue already

-so Orochimaru can just casually do necromancy???????????????????????

-so I’m guessing the third person Orochimaru summoned would have been the Fourth Hokage then

Ep 70:

-the animation of everyone jumping through the trees is so funny

-why didn’t the squad just have Naruto send out a bunch of clones to throw their pursuers off their trail

-I like the derpy-looking face on the back of Pakkun’s vest

-oh shit Asuma to the rescue! It’s nice to see one of the other senseis kicking some ass

-(for a moment I was excited at the potential for seeing Kurenai also kick some ass but then I remembered that she’s a woman and therefore is not allowed)

[nerdygoth77]

Some of my favorite Porter Gage lines!

“Keep your irradiated ASS away from me” 

“Boss”  

“Piss me off and I’ll still kick your ass from here to the Atlantic.” 

“Sure was fun! Huh Boss?” 

“I ain’t got the brains for mazes” 

“How's it go? “This town ain't big enough for you and me?” Awh nevermind :(“ 

“Ain't no way people paid for this shit, I refuse to believe it.” 

“Who the hell's idea of fun was this shit?”

“Ever feel the tiniest bit hurt that the institute hasn’t tried to replace you with a synth? I mean c’mon! I’m important. I-I’m worth replacing......” 

“Think about it…. If beer is still good after two hundred years.. Is it really something worth drinking?” 

“Personally, wouldn’t ever trust anyone to knock me out with gas or whatever, even if they claimed they were going to help.” 

“Can you imagine… having so much extra shit you’d need someplace to store it all” 

“Not paying ATTENTION-” (I fuck up a lot and trigger traps LOL)

“Not a big fan of being underground, so the sooner we wrap this up the better.” 

“Once upon a time, I suppose folks had nothing better to do than sit around outside”

“Greeaaat, because I ain’t seen enough trees and grass.” 

“Like I hadn’t already seen enough glowing shit to last a lifetime.” 

“Believe it or not, this is more civilized than some places i've lived”

"One of these bugs ever takes me down you tell people I died from trippin’ over my gun, fallin’ off a cliff, anything! It would be less embarrassing.” 

“Places like this….Makes me realize life was mostly shit before the bombs fell” 

“God…. Being in here is soul sucking.” 

“I hope you know where you’re going, I forgot my map.” 

“Least we ain't gotta worry about being hit by a train…..Right?”

“No question that shit was made to last…Maybe the wrong shit but still.”

“Me? I like night time. Something about it just feels right.” 

“You’re a real stunner, ya know that?”

“Are you shittin’ me” 

“Ever seen a dust angel? Bettin’ I could make one.” 

“Shiiiiitt I hate getting weeettt” 

“I’ve got a strong stomach, but ewwugh.” 

“You’re my kind of crazy boss.” 

“Boy do I love watching you work.” 

“Anyone ever tell you….your ass looks great in that vault suit.” 

“Don’t know about you, but I can’t see in the dark.” 

“You’ll always be the overboss of my heart- Hehehehe I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t keep a straight face.”

“Blamo” 

“Sheeeeeettt” 

“Don't mind me, just throwing up a bit in my mouth here.” 

“Damn, I hate insects. Like I needed something else to wipe off my fucking shoes” 

“VerMIN”

Everything. Just everything he says is wonderful. His voice is so fucking sexy.

"I'm not that big of a dick"

"Bullshit. Without me I'd be scraping your guts off the floor"

"Before you start pissing all over the plan, why don't you take a minute to hear me out."

"You ready to listen?"

"You're one ruthless son of a bitch aren't ya?"

"Awwwhh C'mon :("

"Just give this a chance, you might even have a little fun."

"Tell yuh whut."

"Everything all peachy with our friendly neighborhood psychopaths?"

"Welcome home, boss."

"I knew you had it in you."

"Next, the fun stuff."

"You look like shit."

He refers to getting high as "Getting blitz." LOL

"Well that oughta make things more interesting"

"hehehe OOPS."

"The fun we can have in this thing!"

"That one have pictures in it?"

"I like a good haul as much as the next guy-"

"You sure you got everything? There's a few more rocks you haven't picked up."

"I never had the hands for that kind of shit. Glad you do."

"You got some nimble fingers there huh?"

"You okay?" (When he shows concern?? UGH)

"Well now, would you look at that."

"Oh for the love of-"

"You gonna build me something nice?"

"Lookin good, Boss."

"oooh, gutsy."

"Pretty tough mutt you got there." (Any dialogue about Dogmeat is great)

"Aww, look at how nice and clean this is, and I here am, dirtying the place up." (one of my favorites)

There's so so many more but I didn't want this to get crazy long

[vannyaftonlova]

Jealousy Isn't a Good Look | Pt. 1

warnings: angst, verbal fighting, jealousy

You started working at Freddy's not too long ago. Vanessa knew what the job entailed, so as your "friend" she tried to get you as far away from it as possible, but you needed money, so she reluctantly gave up. She knew you and Mike would become acquainted, but she didn't expect to walk in and see the two of you cracking up over some inside joke she didn't know.

Nothing was every actually established between the two of you. Multiple kisses have almost happened, you're both always very touchy with each other, but it seemed to not be going anywhere.

You hand landed on Mike's arm as you laughed. He had his eyes glued onto you and was laughing along. Unknowingly to you, his hand started to gravitate towards your thigh, and Vanessa had seen enough.

She cleared her throat and put on a fake smile. You quickly turned around and stood up. You rushed over to Vanessa with a smile on your face.

"Hey, Vanny." You wrapped your arms around her and pressed your body against hers.

She put her arms around you and pushed down her jealousy over mike. "Hey, you." Her voice sounded a tad irritated, but you just assumed it was from a bad shift.

You leaned back and looked at her. "You okay?" Your face was filled with concern.

She shook her head. "Yeah! Yeah, totally." You gave her a questioning look.

"I really don't believe you, Ness." You took a step back and crossed your arms. She rolled her eyes and shrugged. You sighed and turned around to look at Mike. "Hold down the fort, we'll be right back." You quickly turned back around, grabbed Vanessa's arm, and started dragging her to the nearest supply closet.

"Hey-" She said, but was cut off by you shoving her in the closet, shutting and locking the door behind you.

"What's wrong with you tonight, Vanny?" You crossed your arms and stared at her.

She scoffed. "I have no idea what you're talking about." She looked everywhere but at you.

"You definitely do. You won't even look at me." You took a step towards her, but she shuffled backwards.

"Why do you care? You clearly don't care about me." She spat. Her voice was filled with malice.

Confusion washes over your face. "What the hell are you even talking about?" You start getting snippy with her.

"Don't play dumb. I'm talking about you and Mike!"

You took a second before laughing with sarcasm. "Oh my god." You shook your head. "You're fucking jealous."

That word, jealous. You could see the look behind her eyes change. You would think she would have shrunk, but she became ten times more pissed off at you. "Sure. Yeah. I'm jealous. Rub it in. Tell me how much this humors you, how pathetic you think I am."

"Why the hell would I ever think that? You know damn well-"

She cuts you off. "You're always so busy with Mike. Your stupid inside jokes. The way you touched his arm. Hell- the way you were going to let him touch you!"

"Don't act so high and mighty, Vanessa." You spat. You stepped forward and poked her in the chest with your finger. "We aren't even together! You haven't made a single move to give me a reason to not let someone else be all over me."

She stepped closer to you. She loomed over you with a look of pain and anger in her eyes. Your heart hammered in your chest, from both anger, and now excitement at your close proximity. "Do you think I haven't wanted to do something?"

"You haven't made it seem like it. I've been waiting for-" Vanessa cut you off by slamming her lips onto yours. It took a second for you to realize what was happening, and by the time you did, you felt her undoing her tie.

[tkthrilla-writes]

Oh Way Down We Go

An Alastor x Host!Reader that is set in the early days of their contract making, set while reader is in college

______________________________________________________________

“The fucking audacity! I swear if there is even a God- somewhere! Anywhere!” she shouted and screamed, her hands holding tight onto the bars, “Get me out of here!” she continued to yell out in her jail cell.

“Shut up already!” the police officer just outside her cell barked back, having had enough of her tantrums.

“I don’t even know what the hell happened and why I am here! Just let me go!”

“Not until your papers have been processed missy!”

And with a sigh of exasperation, she hit her head against the bars, “great,” she wallowed out, “now my future is ruined.”

“It’s your own fault for being at the crime scene and not cooperating!”

“But I didn’t do anything! I don’t remember anything,” she continued to bang her head on the bars a couple more times before giving up and heading over to the semi clean corner of the jail cell that did not smell or stink of piss. Leaning her back against the wall, and sliding down to sit on the floor in exasperation.

She wasn’t sure how long she had stayed there, could’ve been minutes or hours, people passing by giving her smug looks as if she was the guilty one and she wasn’t getting away with it. All she knew is that this situation revolved around a murder, while she did have an idea as to who committed the murder, she was telling the truth on not know what happened.  It’s not like she was awake or anything during the whole thing, and quite frankly, when Alastor takes over their body, he really takes over! While she does get an inkling as to what is happening, unlike Alastor who is there in the back of her head while she is in control, it’s as if she is in a deep sleep.

So you can imagine her ‘waking up’ in the middle of the street to police cars surrounding her, and cops pointing their guns at her while two people tried to drag her away and stuff her into the car! Her head was probably bruised because she was sure one of them knocked her head into the car door! And don’t get started on how they treated her in the interrogation room, literally only screaming and shouting right at her face for a murder that had just happened, five blocks away. She wasn’t anywhere near the scene of the crime! But no, she was the only one closest to the crime scene! It had to be her!

To top it all off, it was supposed to be her day today, and all she wanted to do was stay in and study! But nooooo, Alastor had to be a smartass and take over for the day, despite him know they have an exam in a couple weeks!

Why was she surrounded by idiots and assholes? All this demon was doing was making her life miserable, more so than it already was. With how badly he treats her, like a toy! Did she sell her soul to him? Sure she did. But he was supposed to help make her life better, not ruin it by sending her to prison!

At this point it started to feel like an eternity with how long and how board she had started to get. Till finally a cop showed up and actually started to open the cell, “Come on! You’re being bailed out!”

“Uh ok,” she said, pretty sure she looked dumb and stupid at the notion of her scrambling to get up from the floor, till she questioned, “by who?”

“By me,” a tall and tanned figure appeared in a white dress shirt and brown trousers to match. He wore only what she could describe as a very annoyed smile, his eyes showing no interest whatsoever, as if he would rather be doing anything else and be elsewhere rather than here. Which the feeling was mutual. “Come along… darling…” he held his smile, although that sounded a lot like a sneer. Ok now this guy was about to get on her nerves, but she wasn’t about to push her luck and miss a chance of freedom.

Dashing behind the tall gentleman while being sure to stick her tongue out at the cop, out of pettiness and extreme annoyance. Something the cop visibly reacted to what only could be described as the Beifong look of insult – you know the one.

The two kept silent as they both walked past the office booths full of police personnel, till they reached the reception area full of either visitors or people waiting to be transferred to a different department, more cops filtering in and out of the crowd while they we just two normal people walking out a building… well, almost normal.

The moment they had pasted the main door to go outside, down a couple of stairs, the ever so kind gentleman started to spazz for a second or two, “Uh you ok?” the human who had just got out what could be a prison sentence spoke up.

“Never better!” the gentleman replied annoyance becoming more evident the more his head started to twitch and bend to what should not have been humanly possible.

“Great! Now who are you and why’d you bail me out?! As far as I know I never made a call!” and so the tirade began, the frustration of today and what essentially could ruin an entire life still weighing down heavily.

“Must you be so dense darling?” darling having the main emphasis sounded quite condescending and quite frankly insulting, as the strangers smile started to grow even more annoyed.

“OI nobody calls me darling you creep, now come on answer my question!”

“Really? Nobody!” the man how just fizzled out into thin air, leaving the “darling” in question heavily confused, only finally clicking in a second later when a wave of immense exhaustion came crashing in, nearly knocking her down the stairs as her knees started to buckle. Luckily she caught herself just in time before taking a nasty fall to the head. Great! First jail time with a record and now a whopping hospital bill, what a great way to end the day!

“Al….” she sneered. 

“Darling….” He sneered back.

“Since when could you come out of my body and look human you demon?”

“Since those of are the rules of contracts with mortal denizens who are ALIVE,” he placed great emphasis on the word alive, “only able to do so for a few minutes at a time and takes great energy to make it work.”

“And now we are both exhausted and have a don’t know how long walk back home! Something that could’ve been avoided if you didn’t take over today!” Starting to walk down the stairs and struggling to march over to the bus stop that was thankfully conveniently placed infront of the police station.

“Excuse you! Where is my ‘thank you?! I’m the one who got you out!”

“Right after you murdered someone and put me in there in the first place!”

“First of all I unfortunately take no credit in that, although the circumstances were quite humorous! Second, you should be thanking me for erasing records of your involvement and getting you out!”

“Wait you did what?”

“I will not repeat myself dear,” the hmpf in his speech could be heard at the end, making the dear host of the demon just be startled in confusion, climbing up the bus that had arrived and would take them hopefully close to home, paying for the ticket fare.

“Why?” she finally asked after a couple of seconds of silence hung in the air, having finally sat down on something relatively padded and resting for a bit. The exhaustion of Alastor entering her body after he took his human form was weighing more than heavy on her nearly making her pass out on her seat. Only thing that kept her awake was the conversation they were semi-having and the fact that this part of town was not familiar to her so she needed to be aware and pay attention to her surroundings outside of the bus.

“Well I did maul it over after the lad insulted the way we dressed, however there were witnesses and it was broad daylight. Oh the irony of someone else getting to murder him!”

“No I mean, why? As in why erase my records and get me out?”

“Well it would do me no good in having my host behind bars where we would be unable to roam free and cause chaos and madness.”

The pause was evident between the two, leaving them hung in silence. The sun shining bright creating shadows to pass by on the humans face, the tiredness kicking in and making her lean on the bus window. The vibrations from that were making the emerging headache bearable.

“Doesn’t change the fact that it was supposed to be my turn today. Why’d you take over I thought you said you had more important business to take over than make sure a human is peak condition and fit for hurting others,” the sadness hung heavy in what they said, especially after they thought this whole taking over randomly fiasco was over and they finally settled on a schedule.

“I was but business finished early, thought I’d drop by and take over after you mauled at those books of yours for hours. A nice stroll would’ve done you some good!”

“Stroll or hunt for victims?”

“…. Failure,” Alastor retorted, feeling both insulted and called out on his other agendas.

“Dead,” she countered, making a face as she realised she said that out loud of the mental conversation that they were having.

“How dare you?!” he cried in offence.

“I dare,” she retorted, removing her head from the window, the vibrations becoming too much and starting to make said headache get worse.

 Alasator let out a Tsk at the sweet and daring audacity his darling host had.

“Thank you.”

“For what exactly?”

“I aint saying anything else! If anything you still owe me!” continuing on with their back and forth banter and shenanigans till they arrived home.

“Speaking of which,” his host started as soon as they returned back into the cramped-up dorm, it was just a small room with a bed, desk and bathroom, but it was cosy enough for one person – well… one person and their radio demon, who turned on the radio amidst the messy pile of books on the desk to fill the background with classic 1920’s music, “I thought you agreed on that schedule, thought I was finally going to have today, or do we need to fight again before we settle it,” the curtain on the window closed as clothes started to be flung all over the place, the human now more than ready to take a long shower to get rid of the smell of rotting hopes, crushed dreams and prison sweat.

“Honestly my dear how lowly do you think of me in this arrangement?”

“Just answer the question Al,” the exasperation could be heard with every word, now entering the bathroom and stopping to look into the mirror to see the dishevelled hair, bloodshot eyes, and dark circles getting darker if that was possible. Plus it was easier to talk to someone who is in your head when you can at least see another person.

“I do not know what to tell you or what it is you wisht o hear, this is my body after all, and you do not do a very good job at taking care of it –“

“You mean my body!”

“My contract, my host, my rules. Therefore, my body! You take these humanly affairs and books too seriously! It is good to pursue knowledge, I do encourage that! But what I do not encourage is this body of MINE to be in poor shape when it gets down to hell!” he continued, wispy and shadowed antlers starting to appear in the mirror, perfectly placed up on the head nearly like a thorny crown, radio static starting to fill the air and drown out the music playing in the background.

“Charming,” she says breaking eye contact with the person in the mirror in favour of getting in the shower. At least she can somewhat count on him to take care of her and get her out of prison before going straight to hell.