#and I think it came out pretty good in the end
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dailyrothko · 6 hours ago
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I won't rattle on about every new scan but this one is new and very interesting to me. I used to be unclear on this thinking it was one of the Black Form paintings of 1964. Same year, same format, fits in quite well. I'm still not entirely sure it was not mean to be (who knows really) but it is not numbered as the Tate has catalogued them so we will say it's a stand alone.
Our former scans of this were terrible, a mess of weird looking black and brown and sometimes cropped (it's really confusing when people do that) so now, our new scan here is pretty good and get's the color right, obviously a huge improvement to what I had previously.
This can be kind of typical for paintings in private collections. Museums have reasons to photograph their paintings but individuals don't let these very expensive paintings out much.
This painting appeared at the Paris LVF show and looked beautiful, the scan doesn't capture the gradation and seamlessness of the painting out in the wilds but it's new, good and a representation of how the painting looks now as this is a recent photo.
I'll take it and am glad to have it and I am hoping you guys like it too.
Tumblr seems to be the social media platform that appreciates the dark Rothkos as much as I do, as I have an affinity for his late work when a large number were painted.
The classic Rothko paintings of beautiful colors and great panache have a certain mastery by the mid 50's akin to a a great film director showing what they can do with a camera. I love these too but I feel that the simpler Rothko paintings are refined in a particular way that I find emotionally involving. They are stripped of the lushness he favored and brought to a more austere form. They can be more subtle and certainly they are hard to photograph, but I have a special tenderness for them.
Just a note that you are welcome to reblog this with the credits but without my commentary (Xkit should still do this). However, please don't steal my scans. It's taken me a decade to be in a position to acquire them and people end up stealing them and putting them up without credit and then it's a drag for the everyone involved, including all my followers as it becomes harder to get permission to use them. I do not mean reblogging, of course, that is great and that's what most of you do. Also i absolutely can tell where a scan came from at this point. Me having to track people down to get proper credits on pictures I was allowed to use, is a real drag This may all sound dramatic, but you must remember Rothko's work is still under copyright and must be handled differently than a picture of the Mona Lisa. Thank you
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Mark Rothko Untitled, (Plum and Brown) 1964 Oil on canvas 81 X 691/8 inches
Private Collection © 1998 Kate Rothko Prizel & Christopher Rothko / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York.
donations
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nativegirltapes · 1 day ago
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one of your favorite things about being with drew was that you got him in a way no one else did. to the outside world; your friends, his friends, his fans, he was the sweetest guy ever. and yeah that was true, but they didn’t see how nasty he really could be.
warnings: oral (m receiving), first time writing this i think so bare with me. i wasn’t sure how to end it because i feel like it was unrealistic to make him cum so quick idk ? lol
they didn’t get to see that little smirk and nod of approval drew would give you just before you’d unbuckle his jeans as he laid back on the couch.
“miss me that much?” drew giggled as he watched your pretty manicured nails tamper with his belt. the pretty manicured nails he paid for. it been a week since you and drew had seen each other, and now that you two were alone you didn’t want to keep your hands off him.
“yeah did you even miss me?” you shot back, pulling drew’s jeans down to his knees. “didn’t exactly see you in any rush to come eat me out.”
“you’re next baby, don’t worry.” drew brought one of his hands to your head, petting your soft hair, even tucking a few strands behind your ear.
you palmed at drew’s hard cock through his underwear, his eyes flickering back and forth from your face to the growing bulge in bottoms. you looked so pretty, and so cock hungry. “just gonna look at it or what?” drew teased.
“don’t get sassy.” you wrapped your hand around his still cloth covered dick, slowly rubbing up and down. you didn’t realize how much you missed the way drew got all tense and eager. it was fucking hot.
you gave his clothed dick a few more strokes before freeing it from his boxers, his dick immediately sprung up and hit his toned stomach. his length never failed to amaze you. you giggled to yourself before placing your pretty hands along his shaft, drew twitched at your sudden movements. “fuck baby,” he chuckled.
you gave his tip a few kisses before sucking on it, wet noises filled the room. god, you looked perfect. groans fell from drew’s mouth as you shoved his whole cock down your pretty little throat. drew swore he could’ve came right then and there, but he had to hold out. it’d been awhile since you gave drew head, you weren’t a fan of it, but tonight drew looked so good you simply couldn’t help yourself. “fuck,” he mumbled.
drew held a handful of your hair as your head bobbed up and down in his lap, the tears falling down your cheeks had his mind going crazy, and your face was covered in a familiar wet gloss. “so fucking good baby,”
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wormdebut · 2 days ago
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STEDDIE MICROFIC JANUARY — NEW YEARS REVELATIONS
@steddiemicrofic | Word: New | Word Count: 517 | Rated: T | CW: Steve is a pining mess
——
“Has it ever crossed your mind, that you might just—like him?”
Steve couldn’t hide the cringe. His shoulders twitched—
“Ew, Robin.”
“Don’t Ew, me, Harrington. I don’t mean to burst your weird little bubble here but every day you complain about Eddie Munson is another day I have to watch you, pining after him.” Robin Buckley is tired.
Robin Buckley is insane.
“Ew, Robin!” Steve yelps. Tossing the blanket off his bed to slap at her shoulders. Fuck this shit.
“I’m serious, Steve. I think it’s time that maybe—perhaps—you consider—that maybe you’re into men.”
Steve can’t help but scoff. “Well, no shit Rob. Of course I’m into men. That’s not fucking new. It’s not men that are the problem—it’s him.”
Robin’s eyes go wide. “Well, shit, Steve. This revelation is pretty damn new to me!”
Steve tries to stop his eyes rolling to the back of his head—he really does.
“Oh come on, Robbie. I’m me. Is this ‘revelation’ really all that shocking.”
“I—“ Robin sighs. “Yeah, well. It always kinda has made sense hasn’t it?” She can’t help but laugh. “But why is Ed—“
Steve cuts her off. “Don’t.”
She laughs again, “Oh, come on, Steven. You just came out to me at ten at night on a Tuesday in January. God forbid I say Eddie Munson’s name.”
“Ew, Robin!” Steve couldn’t handle this. Really he couldn’t.
Her laughing was getting out of control now.
“Oh my god! Your blushing! This is even crazier than the fucking demogorgons!”
“Robin!”
——
It doesn’t go away.
His stupid feelings for stupid—him—don’t go away and it’s getting harder to hide.
Steve’s watching Eddie prep for a show.
A rock show.
The world can end several times, that’s not shocking. No.
But Eddie Munson and his stupid band getting weird underground street cred because he is some sort of hellspawn, devil child that survived the earthquake of ‘86?
That’s shocking.
And it’s hot as hell.
This is not good. This is awful . Eddie Munson is terrible for Steve’s health.
Fuck it. It’s a new year and he had survived the world nearly ending several times.
So he had a raging boner for Eddie Munson.
Whatever.
——
Steve was dazed. Turns out the underground hellspawn music circuit knew their shit.
Corroded Coffin was incredible.
Eddie Munson was hot.
And Steve Harrington was absolutely fucked.
“As I live and breathe, Stevie baby! You came to see me.” Eddie popped up out of nowhere, sweaty, eyes wide, clearly buzzing with adrenaline—and sweaty.
Steve swallows. Is it hot in here? “Uh—yeah. You were hot—I mean, the band was hot—great—good. You guys were good.” What the fuck? What the actual fuck? Get a grip.
Eddie smirks—and Steve is fine, thank you.
“Ohoho—Do you think I’m pretty, Stevie?” Eddie winks, and he’s so close and so sweaty and—you know what?
Yeah—Fuck yeah.
“And if I did?” Steve asks, chill, suave, cool as a cucumber—his hands are not shaking. He’s totally fine.
Eddie’s smirk softens—just a little— “Then I’d say you and I should get out here, no?”
Steve nods. Fuck it. He’s trying something new.
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theereina · 2 days ago
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New Year, Same Bullshit
Pairing: Toxic Babydaddy!Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC
Wordcount: +3.8K
Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, baby girl, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), oral (male receiving), P in V, Toxic Dom!Terry *if you squint and turn your head*, cum play *sort of*, brattiness galore, facials *no spa*🤭
A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels.
A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by ME (theereina). Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.
Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥
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ding
Terry: I hope all is well. My mom told me she has TJ. Hope you enjoy yourself tonight.
Me: I hope I do, too.
Terry: I was thinking about something earlier.
Me: ???
Terry: New Year, new us?
I paused for a second in disbelief. I knew this man was not trying this bullshit tonight. I guess this year's motto was “new year, same bullshit”. I sat there for a second and stared at myself in my vanity's mirror.
I could feel the petty in me rising. I texted Terry back with nothing but ill intentions. “New year, new us”, huh?
Me: Nah. New year, and new dick. Cheers to 2025!🥂✨
I waited until I knew Terry saw the message and blocked his number. I knew I was pushing Terry's buttons but oh well.
2 hours later
“Lele, ain't that Terry?” asked one of the women who came out with me and my best friend.
“Aww, hell. Lele, it is him. He's coming this way, and he looks pissed!” my best friend, Tyler, said.
“I don't care. What he gonna do? Whoop me!” I laughed out loud, spinning to see Terry barreling through the crowd.
I stopped dancing when I saw his face. Maybe, I shouldn't have said that.
“Terry, wait? I didn't mean—,” I said as soon as he stood before me.
“Nah… You meant that shit. New dick, huh?” Terry said, eyeing me down.
As much as I was scared for my life, I was hoping that this night would end the way I wanted it to. Fuck! I needed this.
“You think that shit was funny? Ty, y'all here alone, or did she come with someone?” he asked, looking towards Tyler.
“Terry, I didn't come h—,” I started to speak.
Terry's eyes darted back to meet mine.
“Love, I wasn't talking to you. I asked Tyler. When I want you to speak, I'll let you know.”
“Oh, shit. He not playing with her ass,” said one of the women in the group.
“Yes, we came alone. No, she didn't come here with anyone. I promise,” Tyler said, looking at me.
“I can't believe you're doing this shit right now,” I mumbled under my breath.
“What did you say? I couldn't hear you,” Terry spat, glaring down at me.
“Nothing,” I whispered.
“Yeah, that's what the fuck I thought. Enjoy yourself, sweetheart. I'll be waiting for you when you get home,” he said, holding the back of my head and kissing my forehead.
“Huh? You don't live with me,” I uttered in confusion.
“I still have my key, and I pay the bills there. Don't I? Oh, okay then. Like I said, I'll see you when you get home,” he said, letting me go.
“Oh, and do me a favor, love. Don't drink too much. I need you alert and responsive tonight,” Terry said, walking away.
As I watched Terry leave, I felt my heart racing. There was no calming down from this.
“Fuck me!” I yelled quietly as soon as Terry was out of sight.
“Girl, what the fuck did you do this time?” Tyler asked me, handing me a drink.
I looked at the fruity concoction like it was poison. I knew this sugary ass shit wasn't going to do anything to call my nerves. I shrugged my shoulders and swallowed the drink in two full gulps.
“Damn! That man finna tear yo' ass up. Ain't he?” one of the women asked while laughing.
“You don't even know the half. Tyler, can you keep yo’ godson tomorrow? I got a funny feeling I'm not gonna be straight after tonight,” I asked Tyler, searching her eyes for sympathy.
“Yeah, I got my baby. Now, you just tell me what the fuck you did,” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, Ty. I think I fucked up this time,” I said, shaking my head. I pulled her over to one of the couches in the section, hoping that I could talk to her privately.
As I proceeded to tell Tyler what happened, I could see her face shift from concern to amusement.
“Why do you look like you wanna laugh?” I asked when I finished.
“Uh, sis… How did he know where you were?” Tyler asked, looking at me with concern.
“I don't… I don't know. How the fuck did he know I was here?” I asked, questioning myself more than Tyler.
4 nerve-racking hours later
I had literally spent all night trying to come up with a reason not to come home. I knew that whatever was on the other side of that door was going to be— something memorable.
I made sure to stop drinking hours ago. His “alert and responsive” remark was a warning that only WE understood. My insides were screaming because I knew Terry had a way of breaking me down and putting me back together again in the most— sensual and pleasurable way. Yes, there may be pain involved, but I couldn't care less.
I was well aware of what came with provoking Terry. At this point, it was a game for me, and my prize was always the best dick a girl could ever ask for. That was definitely the one thing I missed about having Terry living at home— the in-house, on-demand dick. Always hard, and always ready.
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It was a little after 4 in the morning. I was pushing my luck coming in this late, but I might as well fully enjoy what may be my last night out for a while. I was either about to get fucked up, be fucked, or both.
After realizing that Terry's truck was nowhere to be found, I scanned the streets to see if he parked there instead. Nothing.
I reluctantly began walking to the door. How was this possible? Even the walk up to my front door was causing me anxiety. Every goddamn step felt like I was approaching the gates of hell. Was I really letting this man make me feel like a child coming home when they know they're getting an ass whooping? Yes.
I slowed my steps and began putting my hair in a ponytail. If it's one thing I knew, this ponytail may save my life. Then again, it may do the opposite. Aww, fuck!
I tossed my heels and purse into one hand while adjusting my keys with the other. Placing the key into the keyhole, I quietly unlocked the door. I paused before opening the door, praying that Terry wasn't standing on the other side.
Sliding inside as quickly as I could, I tiptoed inside the house and locked the door. From what I could see, he wasn't in the living room or the kitchen. I took a deep breath and relaxed my shoulders. I stood quietly in an attempt to possibly hear if he was somewhere in the house. I flattened my back against the door since I was still unsure of my surroundings.
From somewhere to the right of me, I heard something dart towards me. I turned around in a panic. Right as I was about to make a run for it, I saw that the culprit had a tail. I WAS ABOUT TO RUN FROM MY DAMN CAT!!!
I took a deep breath and leaned down to pick up the cat. But… As soon as my knees hit the floor, I felt a hand on the back of my head. I screamed out in shock, startling the cat.
“Oh, nah. Shit that shit up! I told you I would be waiting for you. Didn't I?” Terry growled, pulling me by my ponytail.
Like I said. The ponytail was a gift and a curse.
“Just…” I yelled, grabbing his hands in my hair.
“Touch me again. I dare you. Imma do more than tie yo’ ass up!” Terry said, holding my face to look up at him.
“Terry, I'm sorry. I was just jo—!” I started, letting my hands fall beside me.
“That was supposed to be a joke. Ha! We gone see what's funny in a minute.” Terry said, letting go of my hair.
As much as my brain was telling me to run, my pussy was begging me to stay even more.
Terry's hand wrapped around my forearm. “Stand up!” he barked.
“Please, I said I’m—,” I said, standing to my feet.
“If I have to tell you to shut up again…” Terry said, pulling me to face him.
I used the back of my hand to wipe the tears that were now falling.
“I hope you don't think those tears are stopping shit. Ain't no sense in crying. You did this to yourself, Alicia. I was trying to be nice to you, but you just don't know when to leave me the fuck alone,” Terry said, stepping closer to me.
I gulped as he glared at me, blinking slowly. Every breath he released was hot and heavy— weighed down in anger. It's as if he was battling to control himself.
“You thought that shit was so cute. Didn't you? I bet you and your little friends had a good laugh at that, huh?” Terry said, leaning down and resting his forehead on mine.
“You can speak, now. Choose your words wisely,” he said. He straightened his posture and stood to his full height, holding his hands in front of him.
“I'm sorry. I didn't tell anyone but Tyler. I swear,” I spat out as quickly as I could.
Terry paused to look at me. His eyes darkened in lust and anger. I let my gaze drop to the floor.
“Nah, you know better. Eyes on me at all times, right?” Terry demanded.
“Yes,” I said, trailing my eyes up Terry's body. I let my gaze linger on the bulge that had grown in his jeans.
“Unh unh. You gone see that in a minute. Look at me, Alicia!” Terry said, forcing me to look at him.
I rubbed my forearm nervously. I waited for Terry to say something else. Instead, he turned on his heels and sat on the couch.
Leaning back on the couch, he placed his arm over the back. “Better yet. Come here and bring your phone with you,” he said, motioning for me to approach him.
I slowly picked up my phone from the floor and walked up to him. I stood between his legs. He dropped his gaze to the floor, letting me know to kneel. I kneeled in front of him while never breaking eye contact.
“Good girl. Thank you for finally listening. Give me your phone.”
Handing him my phone, my mind immediately started to race. I knew if this man went through that phone. My ass was grass!
“Terry, wait!” I yelled, stopping him.
“Oh, you must be hiding something. You are crazy as hell if you think I can't go through a phone that I pay for every month. However, that's the least of my concerns right now,” he scoffed, tossing the phone beside him on the couch.
“I just… I… I know that… if…,” I stuttered.
“Don't even worry about it, love. Because after tonight, it won't matter what nigga is in that phone. You'll know who you belong to. I can promise you that.”
Terry leaned forward, grabbing the side of my face firmly. I gasped in anticipation.
“I don't understand why you choose to play with me, baby girl. Here I am asking for my family back, and your ass wants to play these childish ass games.”
“Terry, baby. I—,” I said before he placed his hand around the front of my throat. I instantly shut my mouth.
“Look at that! How sweet. I didn't even have to do it, and you knew.” Terry said, biting his bottom lip. He moaned as he watched me. He was more than thrilled with my natural obedience.
Moving his hand to cup my chin, he let his thumb trace the silhouette of my bottom lip.
“Mmm… Daddy misses these lips. The way they look, the way they feel— everything!”
Terry's hand let go of my chin as he sank back into the couch. I watched fervently as he undid his belt. Making quick work of his pants, he freed himself from the confinement of his boxers.
I eyed his dick, waiting for his permission to even touch it.
“I told you you'd get to see it. Unfortunately, touching it ain't an option. At least not right now, especially with that foul mouth of yours.”
My face dropped in disbelief as I began to pout.
“What you will get to do is watch me. Watch me while I… uh… make you wish it was you handling this for me.” Terry laughed while lifting my head back up to watch him.
So, it begins. This is the part where he breaks me.
Terry wrapped his hand firmly around the base of his dick. “All you had to do was behave, but you just can't. I bet you'll be on your best fuckin’ behavior after tonight.”
Terry's hand stroked the length of his shaft. His contentment was already evident as small droplets of precum began to leak from his tip.
I rested my hands on my thighs, pressing my fingertips into the cushion of my thighs. I was fighting the urge to lick what I felt was mine; however, I knew that wouldn't end the way I wanted. Licking my tongue out, I let it slide across the flesh of my bottom lip.
Terry grunted in response. My eyes darted from his dick to his face. His eyes were low and wanton. He was just as needy as I was. Our gazes locked in fervor, passing a mutual message that intensified the salacious hunger between us.
Terry's hand sped up and tightened around his head. His grunts grew deeper and more primal. He was feigning to cum.
I tilted my head and lowered my gaze, pleading with my eyes. Sitting here with my hands in my lap wasn't enough for me. I whined while wiggling my hips, trying to feel something to help the ache between my legs.
“Fuck! You got 3 minutes to make me cum or else!” Terry said, leaning up and grabbing the back of my head.
He didn't even have to finish his movement. My mouth was on his dick before he could even grab me. I was horny, I was needy, and most importantly, I was hungry.
I took all of Terry in on a single inhale not giving a fuck about my throat. I needed this. I let saliva fall from my mouth and down the sides of his shaft. Pulling back, I hollowed out my cheeks and created a vacuum around the head of Terry's dick.
“Ahhh, fuck. You… you always know… ugh.. exactly what to do, baby girl. That's right. This dick is yours, mama. Ahhh, shit. Keep going, baby,” Terry said, stroking the side of my face.
I moaned around his dick. Swallowing his full length again with pride, I smiled around him. Opening my mouth slowly, I sunk down further until my nose hit the patch of hair he grew there. Relaxing every muscle in my throat I let him sit in the back of my throat while I hummed and moaned in pleasure. This… this was the ache I was seeking. This was what I wanted to feel— the burn and stretch of this very moment.
I pulled off of Terry with a pop, watching as a thin string of saliva and cum fell from my lips. Grabbing him mid-shaft, I began to jerk his dick. Fully consumed by my own pleasure, I failed to immediately take notice of Terry's silence.
I looked up to see Terry's eyes closed as he released a slew of low, rough moans. I instantly put my mouth back on him, focusing solely on his head. Using my tongue to massage his tip, I was hoping to push Terry over the edge.
Watching him closely, I marveled at the sight before me. His head had rolled back on his shoulders, and his bottom lip was tucked in between his teeth. As I felt Terry's dick begin to pulse, I took him into the back of my throat again. I wanted every drop of him, and I was going to make sure I got it.
Letting him paint the back of my throat was the only thing on my mind. I started sucking Terry like my life depended on it. His hand gripped the back of my head, but even that didn't stop me. I rested my hands on Terry's legs for support as I put my all into it.
As soon as I felt like the first drops of cum were about to make an appearance, Terry grunted and pulled me back. His dick fell from my mouth and into his own hands. Leaning my head back, Terry stroked himself twice before erupting— all over my face.
I closed my eyes, feeling the warm sticky substance coat my eyelashes along with my forehead, nose, and lips. I exhaled as I thanked God that I closed my eyes in time.
“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue!” Terry barked as I felt him moving around.
I opened my mouth and felt him push his dick inside again. Resting the full weight of his dick on my tongue, he told me to keep my mouth open.
“Smile!” he said as I heard a camera shutter.
Without a second thought, my eyes shot open.
“For memories. Adding it to the stash.”
Of course! That's what the fuck he wanted the phone for. I pulled back, letting his dick fall out. “I told you that you're mine. Didn't I?” he said, leaning up.
“Oh, don't think we're done either. Stand up!” he nodded.
I rose to my feet, wobbling. As I stood before Terry, I went to wipe my face. His hand reached out to grab my hand.
“Nah, baby girl. You gone wear that shit with pride. I plan on marking my territory in more ways than one. There will be no creampies tonight,” he warns, standing from the couch.
“But Terry I—,” I said.
His arms wrapped around my waist as he lifted me. Wrapping my legs around him, he turned to walk towards the hallway. My body practically melted into him as I clung to his back. I began to whine and moan while kissing his neck.
“Daddy missed this pussy— MY pussy,” Terry moaned as his hands pushed the strapless dress I wore up past my stomach. The thin fabric began bunching up.
“Ahhh, mmmm. Fuck!” I moaned, placing my hands around his neck.
As we approached the bedroom door, Terry didn't even reach to open it. Instead, he opted for kicking it open.
“Don't worry. I'll fix it!” he grinned.
Walking to the foot of the bed, he laid me directly in the middle. He stepped back and completely undressed himself. God Lord, I missed this body.
I leaned up and began kissing and touching his abdomen. Moving my hands out of the way, Terry's hands went to the neckline of the dress as he leaned over me. In one swift move, he tore the top of the dress in half, continuing to tear the fabric from my body until nothing was left.
While I was preoccupied with my own thoughts, he pushed me down onto the bed. Climbing onto the bed and settling between my thighs, he wrapped my legs around his waist.
Looking at me with the most sinful smirk, he entered me in one thrust. I gasped out in both pain and pleasure. We hadn't had sex in over four months. The feeling of him stretching my pussy out sent my eyes rolling into the back of my head.
“You gone feel me tonight, baby. All of me,” he said, leaning down to kiss my neck.
Pulling every inch of his dick out to the tip, he inserted himself again. He was clearly on a mission.
Thrust after thrust…
“So, you gone give my pussy away? Huh? Answer me when I'm talkin' to you!” he said, thrusting into me harder.
“No!” I yelled as my back arched off the bed.
Using nothing but his body weight, Terry flattened me out again. “No, ma'am.” He said, pulling out to thrust back in again. “The fuck you moving for? You gone take this dick. It's yours, ain't?” he asked, kissing my chin.
“Yes, this… this is… ahhh, fuckkk… This is my dick!” I screamed out as he pounded into me. Every thrust knocked the syllables from my lips.
“That's right. This your dick, baby. All of it! Every fuckin' inch, mama! Now, what you gone do with it, huh?” he growled in my ear, taunting me.
“I'm… gonna… fuckin'… take… it!” I whimpered. His thrusts began to pick up speed.
“Good girl, and you gone let me cum wherever I want to, right?” Terry coaxed, hitting my g-spot over and over again.
“Yes!” I yelled, clawing at Terry's back.
I was so close to cumming, and this shit felt so damn good. Hell, I'd even let him cum on my face again.
“I knew my baby would. Who pussy this is, mama?” he asked, smirking.
“Yours! For… ever! Terry, please! Can… ohhhh… can I cum?” I begged as I felt my climax quickly approaching.
“You better wet this dick up, too. Come on, baby.” Terry uttered softly, talking me through it. “Oouu… look at my baby,” he said, fucking me through my orgasm.
“Terry!” I moaned out, digging into his forearms.
“Look at that shit! Wet as fuck!” he said, watching himself slip in and out.
“Yes! Shit! Ohhh, fuck!” I gasped as he slowed his strokes.
“Yeah! Just like that. You ready? Tell Daddy that you're ready,” he groaned clearly at his peak.
“Please, Daddy! Cum for me!” I yelled.
Terry pulled out, aiming straight for my pussy and stomach. I watched intently as ropes of cum landed on my lower abdomen and the mound of my pussy. Using his dick, Terry began to mix the remainder of his cum into my own. He beamed as he created a disgusting and sloppy mess between my legs.
“I wish you could see it, baby. It's so pretty,” he said, looking up. His eyes roamed over the entirety of my body, lingering on the areas covered in his cum. “You look so pretty, mama,” Terry praised.
“I know I do, and it's all because of you,” I said, pulling Terry in for a kiss.
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Taglist: @episodes-ff @babybratzmaraj @persethegawd @pocketsizedpanther @writingsbytee @kimuzostar @confessionsofadramaqueenn @luvrsluxe @blackmoonchilee @meannaim @nayaesworld @msdmc1 @megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @mymindisneverhere @brattyfics @avoidthings @honeytoffee @peachbuttetfly @melaninadorned @theglamclosetsl @simplyzeeka @dxddykenn @charismablu @blackerthings @slutsareteacherstoo @vivaalenaa @becauseimswagman1 @keehendrixx @teeresaresa @beenathembo @inthekeyofshe @notapradagurl7 @blowmymbackout
This taglist is random and sort of thrown together. Sorry.😔
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manebioniclegali · 1 day ago
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Yeah, pretty much. Cohesiveness steadily dropped off after phase 2 and became more abrupt in phase 3 (aside from TR, the difference between Civil War Peter and Homecoming Peter is pretty noticable), and even that phase 2 had issues here and there (although none that I can remember, since I haven't watched any of those movies probably since they came out, with the exception of various TDW scenes since I follow so many Loki/Tom blogs)
I'm thinking Feige is ultimately not concerned with planning every little thing out, which causes a lot of things to fall by the wayside.
°•°•°•°•°•
Hi. 2025 me here. I started writing this is 2019 immediately after your other reply, and now it DEFINITELY is apparent that Feige doesn't care about planning and cohesion anymore. The entire MCU is falling apart because they want to browbeat details and things that they want without regard to the story as a whole. Introducing new characters and places and abilities aren't the problem, it's the execution, and the execution has been lacking.
And now we're even at the point where putting in pandering isn't helping much, and they can't really rely on fandom hype anymore when they've lost so much good will. It's really funny (not in a haha way) that we could kinda see the writing on the wall throughout some of phase 3, and especially with Endgame, but a majority of people didn't recognize it until recently. The MCU really should have had a final story meeting, then ended while they were on top, because what they've done is, as a whole, not great.
“Tony deserved a happy ending, he was finally living a good life.”
“They completely destroyed Steve and his development. He would never do that.”
“They ruined Thor and his entire arc as well, turned him into a joke. His development? Gone.”
“Nat deserved way better and she didn’t even get a proper burial.”
Now you know how every single Loki stan feels.
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charmedimsure · 12 hours ago
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uuuhhhhhm can i pretty pretty please with cherries on top request a Dae-ho x reader where the reader was also in the military? but its like that ep. where they revolutionized? if that makes sense? idk i think it be cool if reader eas good eith a gun
anyways HAVE A LOVELY DAY/ NIGHT love reading your stuff (i binge read it :p)
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
pairing: Kang Dae-ho x gn!reader
summary: As a former soldier, you know just what to do when all hell breaks loose.
word count: 3.7k
warnings: guns, death, blood, squid game stuff, panic attacks, ptsd
A/N: i've played so many shooting games i feel like i've been training to write this fic my entire life. i even named it after a shield from my favorite game (brownie points if you know which game). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3 tried to make this gender neutral but if you find any slip ups lmk so i can fix it
**this can be read as romantic or platonic**
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You look at the woman standing between bunks with wide eyes. You weren't sure earlier when you saw her on the screen, but seeing her standing ten feet away from you, you're absolutely positive that you know who this is.
"Sergeant?"
Cho Hyun-ju turns and gasps when she sees you, a smile lighting up her face. She quickly embraces you, you happily hugging her back. You were always her favorite soldier (she never admitted it, being the sergeant of the Brigade, but you both knew she liked you best). You were one of the only people who supported her when she came out. You tried to fight against her discharge but, as a low-ranking soldier, you had no say in the matter.
"I knew it had to be you!" you say, pulling back with a smile. "When I saw someone go back into the playing field to help a guy with only ten seconds left, I just knew it was my sergeant!"
"It's good to see you," she says. "Though, I wish it was under better circumstances."
You nod solemnly. You had just watched at least a hundred people die while screaming and begging for their lives. As a former soldier, it was hard that you couldn't do anything to help the civilians. All you could do was stand there and listen to the screams and gunshots, and then the silence.
"How are you here? Are you not part of the Brigade anymore?" Hyun-ju asks.
You shake your head. "No, I actually left not long after you were discharged. It wasn't the same without you, and I just couldn't be civil with the others after how they treated you."
She nods, understanding. "Well, if I'm going to be here with anyone, I'm glad it's you. I trust you with my life, soldier."
You smile. "And I you, Sergeant."
<>
You and Hyun-ju had made it through the next two games together, along with some allies you made along the way. Together with Young-mi, Yong-sik, and Geum-ja, you had been the first team to succeed in the six-legged pentathlon.
You had also made it though Mingle with some new allies, though not all of your old allies made it. Young-mi's death was hard on your whole group, but Hyun-ju had been taking it the worst. While you had grown closer with Yong-sik and Geum-ja, she had formed a special bond with the young girl and had to watch her die right in front of her.
While you would like to take the time to mourn Young-mi, a lot has happened in the few hours since the third game ended. The vote on whether to go home or stay ended in a 50-50 tie, meaning you're going to have to redo the vote tomorrow. Then, a huge fight apparently broke out in the men's bathroom, leaving five players dead.
Both sides group together to count their numbers, and you find that there's now one more X than O. While the players around you celebrate, a feeling of dread shoots through you.
"Attention please. Lights out in 30 minutes. All players, please return to your beds and prepare for bedtime."
Shit.
Player 047 stands in front of the group. "Listen, you cannot change your minds. We have to win the second vote and get out of here tomorrow, alright?"
As the other players around you nod and move to their beds, you stay sitting, watching the O players. They're already looking at your group. Watching. Waiting. You look at Gi-hun, the previous winner, and know that he's thinking the same thing you are.
<>
"Those bastards are acting suspicious," Dae-ho says, returning to the small circle you formed on the ground. "It looks like they're up to something."
Jung-bae breathes out a laugh. "Whatever those idiots do, once we win the vote tomorrow, it'll all be over."
"You think we'll be okay?" Dae-ho asks, concerned. "They say things were really crazy in the bathroom earlier."
"We need to be ready," you say from your place between Dae-ho and Gyeong-seok. "They've been watching us since the moment they found out the prize money goes up if we kill each other."
The group around you tenses before Gi-hun speaks up as well. "Once the lights go out, people on the other side will attack us."
"Really?" Yong-sik asks from beside his mother.
Gi-hun nods. "Because if they kill us, they'll be able to win the vote and increase the prize."
"So what do we do?" Yong-sik asks.
"Let's attack them first," Young-il suggests. "They're probably thinking we'll just wait for the second vote. We can use it to our advantage. We'll attack them first once the lights go out."
"That's right," Player 047 says. "It'd be better to attack them first. We have more women and elderly on our side. If we get attacked we'll be at a disadvantage." You send him a glare that makes him freeze for a moment before continuing. "Attacking them first would give us a better chance of winning."
"I agree," Player 145 adds.
"We can't do that," Gi-hun says.
"But we have to get out of here," Young-il argues. "You said it yourself. Staying calm won't get us anywhere now."
"That doesn't mean we should kill each other," Gi-hun says. "That's exactly what they want us to do."
Jung-bae leans forward. "'They'?"
Gi-hun looks at him. "The ones who created this game." He turns to face the rest of the circle. "The ones who watch us play. If we're going to fight someone, it should be them."
It's silent before Dae-ho speaks up. "Where are they?"
Gi-hun looks to the ceiling. "Up there."
You all follow his gaze before looking around at each other.
"On the upper levels," Gi-hun says, "are the rooms they control the games from. The man in the black mask is their leader. Once we capture him, we'll be able to win."
"How are you going to fight them?" Young-il asks. "They have guns."
"We'll fight them with guns, too," Gi-hun says.
"But we don't have any," Jung-bae says.
Gi-hun turns to him. "We'll take their guns."
You and Hyun-ju look at each other. This is what you were trained for.
"From those masked men?" Gyeong-seok asks nervously.
Gi-hun nods.
"That's too dangerous," Young-il says. "Even if we manage to take a few guns, we'll still be outnumbered."
"What then?" Gi-hun argues. "Are you going to kill each other all night and hope you survive? Is that what you want, Young-il?"
Hyun-ju breaks the silence. "Do we... stand a chance?"
"We do if we catch them off guard," Gi-hun says. "Out of everyone, they're the ones who would least expect us to attack first. This is our last chance to end these games once and for all."
"How are you going to take their guns?" Young-il asks.
"Once the fight begins tonight, we'll have our chance."
<>
"Lights out in ten seconds."
"Ten,
nine,
eight,
seven,
six,
five,
four,
three,
two,
one."
The lights dim, then turn off completely, leaving only the red and blue lights from the floor.
You roll out of bed, getting under the frame. You feel someone else trying to get under your bed, and you move a bit to make room for Dae-ho. Just as you get in position, you see bodies creeping towards your side of the room, illuminated by the bright blue O on the floor.
There's a scream, and all hell breaks loose.
The lights strobe as you hear the sounds of screaming and bottles being smashed coming from all around you. Somewhere to your right, a bunk is toppled over, sending someone to the ground. Another player runs up to them, stabbing their fork into their neck.
You feel the ex-Marine next to you tense up and put a hand over his, trying to bring him some comfort, or at the very least trying to keep him from blowing your cover.
You hear the buzzer of the door and the lights come on. One of the soldiers fires into the air to stop the fighting as about twenty masked guards come into the room, all armed.
You quickly army crawl out from under the bed, Dae-ho following you as you lay down on the ground.
You hear footsteps getting closer to you, and your ear is moved as a device scans behind it.
You open your eyes, grabbing the soldier so they can't move. "Dae-ho! Now!"
The ex-Marine smashes a bottle over the head of the guard, knocking him unconscious. You take the opportunity to grab the submachine gun off of the soldier, shooting another soldier coming toward you and Dae-ho. You're so focused on the fight that you fail to notice the quivering boy holding his hands over his ears against the bunks.
Grabbing another gun, you quickly scale one of the bunks to get a better vantage of the fight.
"Sergeant!" You yell, gaining the attention of Hyun-ju. She looks to you and you toss the SMG to her. She drops her pistol and catches the weapon, turning just in time to shoot one of the pink guards coming for her.
You use your position to fire at the guards hiding behind bunks. You pull the trigger until you hear a click, cursing as the mag runs empty. You jump down from the bunk, using the butt of the gun to knock a guard out cold. You quickly take his ammo and reload your own gun, firing at a guard trying to shoot Gi-hun.
"Retreat. Retreat."
The voice over the intercom announces and the pink soldiers make their way towards the door. You're able to shoot two more, but most of the soldiers who are still alive are able to make it out of the room. The main guard with the square on his mask is too busy firing back to realize that the door has closed behind him, sealing him in the room with you just as he runs out of ammo.
"Stop! Hold fire!" Gi-hun yells.
Jung-bae and another player run over to the square guard, making sure he won't fight.
"You goddamn bastards!" you hear someone yell on the other side of the room and turn to see Player 047 aiming his gun at a bunch of O players.
"No!" Gi-hun yells, stopping the man before he can shoot. "This is not what we took these guns for. If we do this, we'll be no different from those masked men."
Player 047 lowers his gun, hanging his head and he softly cries.
Gi-hun steps to the center of the room. "Everyone! Don't be scared. Gather round, please! We're not trying to hurt you!"
You walk to stand by Hyun-ju and Gyeong-seok.
"Get the guns and ammo from the dead," she tells the both of you.
You nod, doing as your sergeant says while she takes out the cameras in the room.
<>
Placing one of the last guns on the mattress in the center of the room, you move to stand in line between Jung-bae and Dae-ho, handing the extra SMG in your hand to Dae-ho.
Gi-hun steps forward. "Everyone. We will now head up to the masked men's headquarters. We'll capture the ones who captured us, put an end to this game, and make them pay. Anyone who knows how to use a gun and wishes to join us, please step forward."
You look at the crowd in front of you, but everyone stays where they are.
"Hey," you hear a voice next to you say and turn your head to see Jung-bae stepping forward. "I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But this may be our last chance to make it out of this place alive. Fight with us so we can go home together. All together."
One of the players in the back of the crowd steps forward. "I'll fight with you."
Gi-hun waves at him to come and take a gun. Two other players come forward as well.
You watch as Yong-sik makes a move to step forward, but he catches your gaze as you shake your head at him. It's very brave of him to think about volunteering, but he hasn't even served his mandatory military service yet, and it would kill his mother if he didn't come back. You breathe a sigh of relief when Yong-sik stays where he is.
When it's clear that no one else is stepping forward, Gi-hun turns to you all. "Please check your guns and ammo."
"Let's take one radio each," Jung-bae says. "We'll use channel 7, the lucky number."
You put the strap of your gun around you, checking the mag and putting it back in place when you're satisfied with the amount of ammo that is left. You look to your right to see Dae-ho fiddling with his own gun. Just as you're about to help him, Hyun-ju steps forward.
"Attention," she says, holding up her gun. "This is the MP5, a submachine gun." She continues on the demonstrate how to load the weapon and set it to the mode you should be using. When she's done, she looks at you all. "Are we clear?"
"Yes," you answer, falling right back into the rhythm with your sergeant.
Hyun-ju nods to you, silently telling you to stay by her when you get out there.
"How do you two know each other?" Dae-ho questions, his voice a bit shaky.
You smirk, cocking the MP5. "I was in the 13th Special Missions Brigade. Hyun-ju was my sergeant."
Dae-ho stares at you, completely stunned. "You were in the Decapitation Unit?!"
You chuckle at his disbelief, nodding.
The man can't believe it. He's been bragging about being an ex-Marine while there's been two ex-Special Forces soldiers right next to him the whole time.
Gi-hun points a pistol at the square-masked guard. "Take it off."
The guard slowly removes his mask, revealing a boy no older than 25.
"Good God," Jung-bae says. "Do your parents know what you're doing here?"
The guard just stares at him.
Gi-hun cocks the pistol. "Take us to your captain."
<>
"All players, it is bedtime now. Please return to your quarters immediately. Otherwise, you will be eliminated from the game. Let me repeat..."
Gi-hun fires at the speaker, effectively shutting up the voice. Three guards are stood over you. "Get down!"
You duck behind the wall of the stairs. Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you turn to look at Hyun-ju behind you.
"Cover me!"
You nod, shooting at the guards while she sprints to the top of the stairs. From her new vantage point, she is able to take out one of the guards, causing their body to fall over the ledge and down to the floor.
When you duck down to reload, you see Dae-ho next to you. The ex-Marine is sitting in a ball, covering his ears and flinching every time a shot rings out. You look at him with concern, but your attention is stolen by Gi-hun telling everyone to hold their fire. Dae-ho gets a grip on his weapon and you all move, following Gi-hun and the un-masked guard.
As you move down an alleyway, Gi-hun stops the guard. "How much farther? Is this the right way?"
The boy points toward the end of the hall. "The entrance to the management area is around that corner. The control room is right above it."
Gi-hun pushes him. "Move it, then!"
"Wait," the guard says, reaching toward his pocket.
"What are you doing?" Gi-hun stops him.
"I need my mask to pass security," the guard explains. Gi-hun nods and the guard takes the mask out. He looks up, but before he can say anything else, a bullet goes right through his head.
You all take cover as more shots are fired at you. Something slashes onto your face, and you turn to see Player 072's lifeless body falling to the ground.
You drop the floor and crawl over to Hyun-ju, both of you taking positions in a green square area of the stairs. You nod to each other and duck out of cover, firing at the guards. You can hear the men speaking to each other at the other end of the line, but you focus on taking out as many guards as possible.
You and Hyun-ju alternate firing and taking cover, both of you shooting with deadly precision, doing your best to not waste any of the already low supply of ammo you have.
A player next to you screams and is shot. You turn, shooting at the guard approaching from your rear, taking out a few that are behind that one as well.
"Everyone! Check your magazines!" Hyun-ju calls out.
You take the mag out of the gun, seeing that you have about half of a clip left. Everyone announces that they're around the same.
"Young-il, Dae-ho, can you hear me?" The voice of Jung-bae erupts from your radio.
"Go ahead!" Young-il says.
"I think we're right below the control room." Shots can be heard in the background. "But we need backup and more ammo."
"We're running out of ammo, too!"
"There should be spare magazines in the soldiers' pockets in our quarters. Go get them!" Gi-hun yells through the radio.
"Did you hear that?" Young-il turns to the group. "They need backup! Three of us will go, and the rest will stay! Join us once you get the magazines! Who wants to go with me?"
Players 047 and ... volunteer and they run off towards the end of the hall.
"I'll go get the magazines!" Hyun-ju yells. "I'll come back as soon as I can, so just hold on until then!"
"Hyun-ju!" A voice yells. You turn to see Dae-ho raising his hand. "I'll go!" He hurries over to where you and Hyun-ju are taking cover. "I- I'm out of ammo."
"Do you know the way?" Gyeong-seok asks. Dae-ho nods.
"We destroyed the cameras on the way, follow them," Hyun-ju says.
"I'll go with him," you say. "I still have some ammo, so I'll cover him."
Hyun-ju nods. "I'll cover you. Go!"
You and Dae-ho take off down the stairs. He stops a few times, but you pull him along, keeping your eyes up to watch for the broken cameras. As you're running down the stairs, Dae-ho stops, and you turn to see him staring at a dead guard hanging over the ledge of a window.
"Dae-ho!" Jung-bae yells. "Can you hear me? Where are those magazines?"
You lift your own radio to your mouth. "We're getting them now."
"Alright! We're counting on you!"
You put your radio back in your pocket, grabbing Dae-ho's hand and pulling him along behind you.
You burst into the quarters, letting go of Dae-ho's hand as you sprint to a guard, taking the spare mags out of their pockets. You hear someone say your name and look up to see Yong-sik.
"What happened? Why are you back by yourselves?"
"We're low on ammo," you say, not looking up from the guard you're looting. "We need to get the magazines from their pockets. Help us!"
You look up to the boy to see him nod and run over to a nearby guard. Geum-ja and Jun-hee come over to the help, as well.
Once you've looted all the ammo from the guards, you place them into a jacket you found on one of the dead players. You tie it up and give it to Dae-ho, thanking the others as you lead him out of the room.
Gunshots can be heard as soon as you step outside. You keep moving but when you check behind you, you see that Dae-ho has stopped where he is.
"Dae-ho, we need to go," you urge.
He looks at you silently, but the fear in his eyes sends the message. You've seen soldiers like this before you joined the Special Forces.
Dae-ho stands in his spot, paralyzed other than the shake of his body in fear.
You hear your name and Dae-ho's through the radio. "Where are you? Can you hear me?"
You watch as Dae-ho lifts his radio, staring at it as Hyun-ju's voice comes through.
"Did you find the magazines? Are you on your way?"
Dae-ho looks at you. "I'm sorry," he whispers, dropping the radio on the ground and running back into the quarters with the magazines.
"Shit," you say under your breath. You follow Dae-ho into the room, looking around to find where he went. Yong-sik points toward a bunk and you find Dae-ho curled up there, rocking back and forth. Running over to him, you take the jacket with the mags, ready to run out of there. You take a look at Dae-ho, the pure fear coursing through him as he whispers apologies over and over.
You sigh, remembering one of the lessons Hyun-ju taught you as your sergeant.
Never leave a man behind.
Taking out your radio, you bring it to your lips and press the button. "Charlie Foxtrot."
You put your radio down, knowing that Hyun-ju will know what to do. You had picked up the phrase from your U.S. counterparts, saying it to each other when something goes wrong.
Moving to sit on the bed, you take Dae-ho's hands into yours. "Dae-ho, I need you to breathe with me, alright."
He slowly looks at your face before launching himself into your arms, sobbing into your shoulder. You rub his back comfortingly, knowing you can't leave him alone like this.
After a few minutes, Hyun-ju runs into the room shouting you and Dae-ho's names. She comes running over to you, stopping when she sees Dae-ho in your arms.
"What happened?"
Dae-ho jumps a bit at the new voice, burying his face farther into your jacket.
You look up a Hyun-ju, shaking your head at her. She nods, understanding. You point at the magazines and she scoops them into her arms, ready to take them to the others when the buzzer for the door goes off and more pink guards enter the room, firing in the air and making everyone scream.
Hyun-ju reloads her SMG, ready to take on the entire group on guards by herself. You watch as Geum-ja puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.
"You can't die like this."
You sigh in relief as Hyun-ju puts the gun down. From your hidden area, you try to get the guns and mags away from you, making it seem as though the three of you have been here the whole time.
As the guards come further into the room, you use your body to shield Dae-ho from them as he whimpers. You make eye contact with Hyun-ju. Whatever happens next, you'll face it as a team.
~
Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck @ally1uvsu @thebiggestigurosimp @come-as-you-are-111 @hiphip-horray @k1michii @tpwkcaryslizb @louissst28 @sshwaa @jennwonwoo @sunnysurvives @lalalaa2210 @tayshs @sunshinethatlooksalive @plntmxrss @lxnnrobin @mariaxman @alexx-iia @batty-barty-crouchjr @kxsm3t @takuma-talkz @peacemakersbeloved @skywalker0809 @soobinbunnie5
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star2fishmeg · 3 days ago
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oooooh for your 1K celebration could i request scenario 133 with jack hughes pretty pls and thank you :)
Thank you for requesting <3
SCENARIO #133 Bffs 'practising'
📞 dialling…
“Are you kidding?” Jack asked in surprise, eyes almost burst straight out of his head, pushing off his headboard to lean closer to y/n opposite him on his bed. 
“Jack, stop, it's so embarrassing.” She hushed urgently, hoping Luke couldn’t hear anything from the room next door. Heat flushed to her neck, and she buried her face in her hands. “People didn't like me like that, okay?”
He leant back again, jaw agape and mind trying to process the information. Out of all the years they’d known each other, he couldn’t comprehend how he didn't know she’d never been kissed before or how he never knew about it. What rattled him the most was that he knew guys who would have gone through the trenches for y/n back in high school, yet nothing ever came of it. His ride or die, y/n? Never been kissed?
He pushed his hair off his forehead, the locks getting longer just the way he knew she liked it, “But college? You're saying you did three years of college and nothing? I'm finding it hard to believe that someone as pretty and cool as you had nobody who wanted to kiss you, sweets.”
Her hands fell to her lap, fiddling with the ends of her pyjama bottoms, stomach flipping anxiously at all the two memories of when she almost had a kiss, but could never bring herself to go through with it. It just didn’t feel…right.
“Ah, well, my friends were more approachable, I guess. I don't even know what the fuck to do anyway, like how do you even make-out?” She chuckled, peering up to give him a quizzed look. 
Jack didn’t need to think, didn’t need to hesitate, the first thought that came to mind hit him like a brick and was a risk he was willing to take, the tightness and excitement in his chest needed relief or he would end up facing the anguish of not taking the risk.
“I can teach you.” He said, quickly with his unwavering confidence across his lips, eyes flickering to her lips. “For real, I'll teach you how to kiss. Come on, it'll be fun and it's just me. You know I won't tease you.”
“You don’t have to, J. Honestly, you don’t have to pity me.”
“It’s all good, sweets. I’ve got you, c’mere.” He patted his thigh twice, inviting her in with a confident grin on his face. She wasn’t sure if he was confident or finding amusement in the whole thing.
She exhaled, crawling towards him and straddling his lap, the new position sparking a funny excitement in her stomach, heat surging over her body. His hands held her hips, firm but not bruising, enough to reassure her that, he was sure. Y/n’s breath fell shaky, she’d been face to face with him before but not in that position, where his thumbs rubbed her hipbones gently and her hands wound around his shoulders. 
“Don’t be nervous, princess,” he murmured, “tilt your head to the left and follow my lead.” 
She did, closing the space between them. He pressed his lips to hers tenderly, slotting perfectly. In those brief, six seconds it felt as if the world burst into colours around her, butterflies swarming around her stomach and finally understanding how addicting it was to taste another. Without much thought, she slid her hand to his nape, pulling a groan from Jack’s throat.
Y/n pulled away, lips still parted but eyes searching his for any speck of mutual desire that washed through her, hands still holding each other but she felt his fingers sneak under her t-shirt with feathery touches. 
“Do…do you normally make noises like that when you kiss girls?” she asked quietly, a wild glint in her eyes, one that Jack struggled to contain himself over. He shook his head honestly, hands slithering further under her shirt but doing nothing but running his hands over her waist. “J, I think I wanna make-out with you.”
His lips quirked up in the corners and he licked his lips, “Me too. It’s gonna feel weird, but move your tongue against mine, just follow my lead, ‘kay?”
She nodded, eyes fluttering closed and leaning into him. He pressed his mouth to hers again, swiping his tongue over her bottom lip, feeling her open cautiously before sliding his tongue further. Jack was right, not that she didn’t believe him but his tongue finding hers and lapping against it was alien, yet she followed him. His hand moved up her back, the other arm still wrapped around her waist and keeping her secure to his body, lips moving in a slow rhythm, his chest fizzling at the little moans emitting from her shamelessly as they licked into each other. For someone who’d never made out with anyone before, she learned fast, ignoring the saliva drooling from the corners of mouths. 
Jack hummed when she looped her other arm around his shoulder’s tighter, unknowingly rolling her hips into his crotch, their rhythm becoming hungrier, hotter and heavier until they had to pull back, gasping for air.
Jack rested his forehead against hers, the pair falling into giggles. Twirling a strand of his hair around her finger, she smiled. “How was I?”
“Good, but I think we’re gonna have to go again just so I can be sure.”
He rolled them onto their sides, Jack propped up by his elbow with y/n tucked underneath him, kissing her hard with his hand soothing over her waist and hiking her t-shirt to her ribs. She moaned into him with a slight smile to her lips, one hand tucking his hair away from his face meanwhile her arm held onto his shoulders. Love, lust, hunger and comfort during three separate kisses, yet three attempts at showing how deep down they knew they were meant for each other.
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sugawarassoulmate · 3 days ago
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i love the idea of terushima hooking up with a girl that turns out to be a homie hopper LOL
the two of you had been hooking up casually for a few weeks until he lets you know that he's not looking for anything serious
"i just don't want to be tied down or anything," he said, expecting to see your smile falter like so many other girls before you
but you shock him
"oh, i totally understand. it's no problem!"
he's confused but thinks you're probably better at hiding your emotions
the two of you see each other in passing on campus and you remain cordial as ever
as if you two never had that conversation
a few days later he's in the locker room changing out of his sweaty clothes after practice when he hears hollering on the other side of the room
his teammates are crowded around futamata, who's sporting bruises on his chest and neck
he looks a little embarrassed as the other guys congratulate him on getting laid
terushima immediately joins in, asking who "the lucky lady is"
but futamata looks nervous to tell him
when everyone goes their separate ways at the end of the night, futamata takes terushima aside and tells him that the two of you hooked up the night before
and it's like the wires got crossed in terushima's brain
you're not together, you're barely even acquaintances
but he's????? annoyed???? frustrated???? that you slept with one of his best friends?????
when terushima sees you the next day, he doesn't waste a second with any pleasantries
"are you messing with me?" he asks with no warning.
"hello to you too, yuji," you say, confused by the agitation in his voice. before you could even finish your sentence, terushima opens his mouth again.
"why did you hook up with futamata?"
you quirk your brow, wondering where this behavior came from. "why is that any of your business?"
"you hook up with me and sleep with my best friend a week later? that's fucked up." he's red in the face now, arms crossed.
"didn't you say that you didn't want to be 'tied down?'" you said, throwing his words back at him.
you explained that you met futamata at a party and immediately hit it off. it wasn't until after the deed was done that he mentioned he was on the volleyball team and you put two and two together.
but terushima still isn't having it, even with all the girls he's had before, never has any one of them hooked up with his friends.
"i wasn't looking for a relationship, but you didn't have to do that," he said, still not getting it.
"did you think you hurt my feelings?" you snort. why terushima was coming at you with such anger suddenly made sense. his poor ego got hurt.
"i'm not looking for for a relationship either, dude. i just like sex," you admist. "and i'm pretty good at it."
the look on terushima's face tells you he wasn't expecting that answer.
"if you just wanna fuck again let me know," you shrug, not willing to entertain this interrogation any longer. you turn on your heel, leaving terushima dumbfounded and also a bit horny.
328 notes · View notes
zepskies · 21 hours ago
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Omg really? Wow, thank you so much. That's honestly amazing to me, considering this was one of the hardest for me to write in Smoke Eater. 💞
(But after reading your wonderful review, thank you for making me cry. 🥹💗💗)
First of all, please don't apologize for the heartfelt thoughts you want to share with me. No matter how long or short, I love hearing what you think about my writing, and this is genuinely one of the best reviews I've ever received, because I can tell it came from the heart.
What's crazy is my mom and I also used to watch Chicago Fire together when she was trying to recover from surgery (where she had terrible complications and wasn't well for a long time). It became her comfort show, and I was happy to introduce it to her/have that bonding time where it kept her from thinking about her pain. But I'm so glad you thought to come here to perk yourself up after a rewatch.
honestly I have so many thoughts for each wonderful chapter but I would feel super guilty for spamming :’) this chapter in particular though, hits me harder than anything i’ve ever read before — not in a bad way!🤍
lol girl that's the best kind of spamming. I'd never be upset with that! 😂 Oh good, I'm glad it doesn't hit in a bad way. I was concerned about that for readers when I was first posting this part of the story. 💙
my mom had epilepsy, and I was her caretaker pretty much my entire life. I connect so much with this story because it, feels like i’m reading a mirror, if that makes any sense at all. with all the doctors and the worrying, it’s written so authentically, which is understandable after reading your author’s note. i’m so sorry you’ve experienced such difficult hardships and losses yourself honey, I offer my sincere condolences. and i’m sending you the biggest hugs 🫂🤍🤍
I'm sending you the biggest hugs right back, friend. I'm so sorry about what your mom went through, and what you went through too. Being a caretaker is not easy. I've seen it enough in my family that that's what I drew from in order to write this, so I'm glad it felt authentic to your experience. 🫂💞
now these lines/parts specifically had me crying like a baby lol. december of 2021, my mom had to have surgery at the start of the month. her recovery was going a little slow, but well. however she passed away overnight, 2 days after christmas, completely unexpected. the day before she had been doing so well too— she had more energy and was more mobile without needing as much assistance. came to find out later that’s something nurses call a surge? :/ either way, those moments in particular really tugged at my heartstrings ❤️‍🩹
I'm so sorry for your loss, my friend. It is blind sighting when it comes so unexpected like that. I haven't shared this publicly, but something similar happened with my grandfather this past December. His health declined suddenly, to the point we had to take him to the hospital. After seeming to get better after a few days, he went downhill even harder, and he passed away in mid-December. It's not the same thing as your situation, but I understand the feeling of "why did this happen like this?" But now he's at peace with my grandma. And your mom is free from her pain and discomfort too. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
this line too. I felt this way for so long after my mom died. I didn’t get the final cause for a while since she passed at home and not at a hospital, and to this day I wish I could go back. wish I could’ve done something different. but SUDEP (or, sudden unexpected death in epilepsy) is completely unpreventable so far. I just find it so cruel that this illness I spent my whole life helping her with, ended up taking her anyway and nothing I did mattered in the end. so reading that line, how she broke down, and everything she had been holding in, it really made my heart ache but I also felt less alone in a way.
And I'm sure you did everything you possibly could, just like the reader in this story. 💞 I didn't know about SUDEP, but I have a family member who takes medication for his epilepsy, so I'm going to be reading up on that. I'm so glad that this simple line made you feel less alone in any small way -- I also thought when I was writing that it not only fit what the character was going through, but that other people who've been caretakers for a family member like this would be able to identify with this feeling as well.
everything that followed, it’s like reading a reflection. I shutdown and just went through the motions afterwards too, but ohhh how nice it would’ve been to have a dean ❤️ his support, how he takes care of her, it’s so heartwarming. and it’s really comforting to read. <3
It's that awful "autopilot" thing that somehow allows us to get through the aftermath, in a way, right? If only we could all have a Dean to support us in those moments. Somehow, reading hurt/comfort fics help me feel better too though. 💓💓
a lot of my family distanced themselves afterwards which, it is what it is. that being said, the sentiment in this story of family isn’t always blood resonates with me a lot. my support system is really small, but they chose to be there for me unlike my blood relatives so, that theme in this story means so much — the way dean’s chosen family shows up for her as well, it’s so sweet. 💖
Ugh really? I'm sorry to hear that. 💙💙 But thank you for pointing that out -- that is the overarching theme of this story, a la SPN style. 🥹 Your chosen family can be just as powerful, if not more, than your blood family. And in this story, Dean's family is basically "adopting" the reader/you into it. 💕
I guess the gist of what i’m trying to say, is I wholeheartedly adore this series and it truly means so much to me 🤍 I appreciate your work so much, and I love the unique feeling each piece of your writing brings 💗💗 I know I may sound like a broken record but truly I don’t think I can ever put into words how much I love your blog. you are an absolute sweetheart, truly a light peeking out between cloudy skies 💞
Wow, I really did tear up of happiness. Thank you. 🥹🥹 I appreciate you right back for reading this story and connecting with it like you did. And I'm so glad that you enjoy my blog!! I've only been here on Tumblr for about 2 years actively, but connecting with people like you is what's keeping me here, and honestly gives me energy to write and express myself when I'm going through hard times.
This chapter specifically was very difficult for me to write for multiple reasons, as you saw in my AN, but again it makes me all the more grateful that this is the chapter you connect with the most. I'm very sorry for your loss though. I'm really touched that this story can give you some small comfort. 💞
(And no it's not too much. Thank YOU for taking the time to share this with me.)
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Smoke Eater - Part 11
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Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 
Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 
That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   
🔥 Series Masterlist
Word Count: 5,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst warning. But also major hurt/comfort.
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Part 11: “Heart of the Home”
You sat very still.
Your hands were gripped together in your lap when the doctor entered. He was tall and lean and blonde, and he would’ve reminded you of your boss, except this man had a kinder face.
You were sitting on the edge of your grandfather’s bed, hoping the doctor would say the bloodwork and scans came back fine. That they wouldn’t need to admit George into the hospital for further testing. That he could go home in the morning.
But your life had never been quite that easy.
“Okay, George. I’m sorry, but we need to admit you,” said the doctor.
He explained that while the malignant tumor of his cancer had been removed last year, the scans that had been done last month hadn’t been able to detect the bright spots now formed on George’s lungs and lymph nodes.
The oncologist would have to confirm, but you all knew where this was headed. Likely those “bright spots” were tumors.
George nodded slowly at first, taking it all in. He asked what his options were, as far as treatment.
“Your oncologist will go over those options with you,” the doctor replied. “We’re going to move you up to Oncology shortly.”
George thanked him.
And you sat very still. 
A hand fell on your arm, finally earning your gaze. George’s face was oddly calm, though the worry in his eyes was for you. You realized that he’d gently called your name, though you hadn’t heard him. Your ears were ringing.
His mouth parted to tell you something, but nothing came out. So instead, he tugged you into his arms, and he heaved a long sigh.
“I guess we’re here again,” he admitted. He let out a chuckle. “The Lord does like his tests…but maybe that car accident was a blessing in disguise, huh?”
You heard his voice, but your mind was buzzing—mainly with the doctor’s words, and with a bone-deep feeling that threatened to consume you.
Your car, your fault. Options, again. Here again.
Your fault.
When you didn’t answer, George pulled away a bit to give you a questioning look.
“Sweetheart?” he tried. You laid a hand on his arm.
“You still haven’t eaten dinner, have you?” you asked. Neither had you, for that matter. “I’ll get us something that isn’t rubbery turkey.”
George blinked at you, confused, with a growing edge of worry.
“Isn’t Dean getting your meds? Why don’t you wait for him to—”
“I’m fine,” you said, already getting up to grab your purse. “I’ll be back.”
George called your name again, but the ringing in your ears was now pulsing in time with your heartbeat.
You made your way down the hall to the lobby at a brusque clip, even with your neck brace on. You didn’t see Dean, but he certainly saw you as he was walking back into the hospital. Frowning, he followed and called out to you.
You slowed when you saw him, and he soon caught up with you. He rested a hand on your back.
“Hey, where you goin’?" he asked.
“We haven’t eaten in a while. I’m going to the cafeteria,” you said. Though you seemed distracted, your eyes meeting his only briefly. It triggered a small spidey sense running up Dean’s spine.
He gave you your prescription pain medication, which you took with a small “thank you.”
“Everything okay?” he asked. “How’s George doing?”
“Fine. He’s resting,” you said. And by the look of you, that seemed to be true. But he spotted the tremble in your hands when you took the pill bottle package from him. It made him stop you when you tried to keep walking down to the cafeteria.
“Okay, you wanna run that by me again?” Dean asked.
You frowned, and your brows knit together. “What?”
“Is there something going on?” he pressed.
You sighed, but you didn’t answer him. You looked exhausted, and like you’d rather swallow your own tongue than speak. You shook your head and laid a hand on his wrist.
“I’m fine. Dean, thank you for everything you did tonight, but you still have to work tomorrow. Go home, get some rest,” you said.
You turned from him again. That was your first mistake. He reached out and grasped your hand to stop you.
“Hey, wait a minute,” he said.
“What?” you said in irritation. Your second mistake was not being able to look at him.
Dean was frowning in earnest now. Worry clawed in his gut, which was also telling him not to let you walk away from him. His grip shifted to hold both of your arms and move directly in front of you. He dipped his chin, trying to get you to meet his eyes.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I need you to talk to me.”
You inhaled a shuddering breath. A wave was rising inside you, threatening to pull you into its undertow. Your eyes burned, red and shining. Dean finally saw it when you raised your head, what little you could. Your mouth began to quiver, looking into his eyes. And it was done.
You could no longer be still.
Dean held you when you fell apart in the hallway.
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Dean called out of work the next day to stay with you and George. Gordon would be acting Lieutenant until his next shift, and Dean was sure the man would take full enjoyment out of it.
He couldn’t care about that right now though. He felt that his place was here, being your quiet wall of support while you and George and the oncologist talked about treatment options.
“Normally, at the stage we’re in, I would be recommending chemotherapy,” said Dr. Benton.
“Normally?” you echoed.
“At the rate this is progressing, the treatment would have to be aggressive,” he said. His gaze focused on George. “However, at your age, and the current state of your overall health…at this point, I don’t think the rigors of treatment would be worth diminishing your quality of life.”
“What are you saying?” you asked. Your voice cut like a whip, earning the other men’s gazes.
George was the first one to lay a hand on your arm. “You know what it means, honey…he’s saying it ain’t worth it.”
“Of course, it’s worth it,” you retorted. With your brows furrowed and lips pursed, your eyes went from him to the doctor. “Just because he’s older, we shouldn’t even try? Is that what you’re saying, doctor?”
At that, even Dean drew closer to lay a hand on your back. Meanwhile, George squeezed your arm.
Benton shook his head gravely. “That’s certainly not what I’m saying.”
“How much time would I get, if I started treatment,” George asked, before you could volley further with the doctor.
Benton met the other man’s gaze.
“I’m going to be honest with you, George. You may get a few more weeks, or even a few months. But that is a best-case scenario.”
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Dean drove you all home that day, after George decided to formally waive treatment. Both men knew you were angry in your silence, but neither one wanted to press you. Dean was too wary, and George was too tired.
Once he was settled in bed, you hadn’t even left his room yet before you grabbed a notepad off his desk and wandered into the hall. You started to make a list of things you still needed from the grocery store, among other things. Dean took that piece of paper out of your hands.
“Good. I’ll handle this,” he said. “Meanwhile, you can get upstairs, take a shower, take your meds, and get some sleep.” 
You frowned at him. “You haven’t slept either, Dean.”
“I’m used to it,” he said, giving you a wink and a slight smile. Overnight shifts could be a bitch at a firehouse, but Dean was no stranger to having his sleep interrupted.
“Listen to him, honey. He’s speaking sense,” George called from inside his room. The bedroom door was still open. He was settling into his bed while trying to stifle a cough. He sipped at a cup of water you’d brought for him.
Still, you looked reluctant. Dean held your arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“Come on,” he said. “You were in an accident yesterday. You’ve had one hell of a night. You need your rest, or you’ll be no good to anyone.”
And if you pushed yourself much more, he worried that he’d have to take you right back to the hospital. Dean would rather not have that scare so close to the last one.
He brushed your cheek with gentle fingers. With the limited mobility your neck brace provided, you did your best to look up at him. Your eyes were softer.
“Okay,” you breathed.
“Okay? All right, good,” Dean said. You held onto his jacket for a moment, leaning against him.
“Thank you,” you whispered. You felt the burn of tears behind your closed eyelids. A few of them squeezed past and slipped down your cheeks. Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.
“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”
“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”
“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”
Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.
“That you do, Lieutenant.”
You left for your room soon after, but not before you brought him down to you for one more tearful kiss.
Dean then watched you climb up the stairs to your room and nearly went up to help you, but he heard George call his name. Dean ventured back into George’s room and heeded his beckoning hand.
“You hungry? I can scramble some eggs or something before I hit the store. I think I saw two more left in the carton,” Dean said. George shook his head.
“Come ‘ere a sec.”
Dean took the hint and sat on the edge of the bed.
“I just wanna thank you for everything you did yesterday. Everything you’re still doing for us,” George said. He looked exhausted, but whatever he wanted to say was important enough to fight off sleep. He clasped a hand on Dean’s arm.
“You don’t have to,” Dean replied.
George huffed. A smile made his eyes gleam brighter.
“I knew you were a special one, Dean Winchester. Knew it the night I met ya, on your very first date with her.”
Dean blinked, but his pause drifted into a reserved smile.
“How’s that?” he asked.
“Well, I’ll be honest. When I heard that black Chevy rumble like hell’s wheels onto the driveway, I thought I might have to worry about you,” George chuckled.
Dean’s lips quirked.
“But no, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t the pretty flowers, or our mutual love of killer sharks,” George quipped, making Dean’s smile more genuine. “It isn’t your job either, or the fact that you saved her. I just believe that you can see a man’s mettle in his eyes…and I saw it in you when I shook your hand that night.”
Dean took that in for a moment. His hand flexed over his knee. Then he met George’s gaze, though he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes though, honestly was the best bet.
“I’m sorry for what you’re going through,” he said at last. “I can’t imagine…”
George let out a breath through his nose. “I’ll tell you a secret.”
He pointed to a picture frame on his bedside. It was of him and his wife, Sophie, when they were around your age and Dean’s. The couple were sitting on a pier that hung over the edge of the lake in their hometown.
She held him from behind, with her arms wrapped around his neck. Her long hair was being carried by the wind, getting swept into George’s eyes. He was smiling too hard to care.
“I’m ready to smile like that again,” he said. He had tears in his eyes, but he was already lighter at the thought. “I know it’s selfish…but I think I’ve missed her long enough.”
Dean paused. Then he cleared his throat past a small well of something he couldn’t name. He wondered if his dad ever had thoughts like that.
“Well, I’ll let you get your rest,” he said. “I’ll be back.”
George nodded and gave Dean’s arm a squeeze. “All right. Drive safe. Don’t hit any goddamn trees.”
He shot Dean a knowing wink, and it almost had the younger man laughing. George’s sense of humor was something else.
Dean then left George to rest. He made sure he had his wallet, keys, and your grocery list before he left your house and went back to the car. He checked his phone and saw a missed call…from Cas.
Dean was reminded again about Azazel, the kingpin who might’ve ordered a hit on his family. Along with the recent murders and arsons, and the connection from one of the victims to your company, Savage & Co.
Dean returned the call as he climbed into the Impala.
“Dean. Everything all right?” Cas asked. “Sam filled me in about the accident.”
“Yeah, everyone’s okay…well, not really. I’ll explain later,” Dean replied. “Listen, about what we talked about at the bar.”
“Yes.” Cas said gravely. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go to your father about this yet.”
“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean sighed. “My girl just got some real bad news. I know you gotta keep digging into Savage & Co., but can you keep her out of it?”
“Is she all right?”
“Yeah, more or less…it’s her grandfather.”
“Ah, I see,” Cas said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks, man. I’d rather her just focus on what she needs to do right now, you know?”
“I get it. And believe me, we’re keeping the investigation of Nick Savage quiet for now,” Cas said. “But if we find something, or worse, if I can’t…I’ll likely need to question her. She works directly with Savage, and from what I can tell, she’s instrumental in bringing in and maintaining several of his major accounts.”
Dean stopped at a red light and took a moment to rub a hand over his tired face, rubbing his eyes. “You don’t really think she’s got any idea of what that asshole’s into.”
“I’m not saying she does. But in working so closely with him, perhaps she’s noticed things about her boss, and the company. Things she’s kept to herself, out of self-preservation.”
Dean frowned. He didn’t want to think about shit like that. It made his stomach churn at the thought of you working for someone who might be doing business with a crime lord, let alone Azazel.
“Well, when that day comes, give me a heads up, okay?”
“Will do.”
“Thanks, Cas.”
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Dean offered to take another day off to help you, but you wouldn’t let him. He needed to go back to work, and you were able to arrange working from home for the next few weeks.
Even Nick couldn’t refuse to accommodate you in a situation like this. He knew very well that if he pushed you too hard, you’d go directly to HR.
So he backed off, and told you to take as much time at home as you needed. It allowed you to put him, and that afternoon in his office, away from your mind to focus on taking care of your grandfather.
Though you called your best friend the day you got home from the hospital, Andréa didn’t come by your house to see you and George until the end of the week. She cited mounting projects at work and some kind of tiff with her cousin Meg, but it all sounded like excuses to you.
However, she was gracious enough to bring dinner for the three of you on a Friday night. She cut up with George like normal, and even got him laughing, until a coughing fit forced him to stop. It also took most of the joy out of the rest of the evening.
While George went up to his room to rest, Andréa later joined you in the kitchen. You were washing the dishes, trying to focus on what you were doing. But your mind was buzzing continuously with future tasks and worries. Always, tasks and worries.
“How are you holding up?” Andréa asked. She rubbed your back, and you gave her a slight smile.
“All I can do is make him comfortable, for as long as possible,” you replied. There were tears in your friend’s eyes, but she dabbed them away with the back of her hand.
“What do you need? Anything, you just tell me,” she said.
It was a little easier for you to contemplate leaning on Andréa. You had been friends with her for years, and she was like another daughter to George.
On the other hand, asking Dean for help always made you hesitate. What you two had was still so new. You worried that this was too much for your relationship, too fast. 
“Well,” you sighed as you wiped your hands dry on a kitchen towel. You didn’t exactly want to talk about it, but there were things you had to start planning, even if you didn’t know the exact timeframe.
However, as soon as you opened your mouth to reply, Andréa’s cell phone rang. She held up a finger to you and checked it. To your surprise, she actually answered it.
“Hey, babe,” she replied with a smile. You heard Benny’s deep voice on the line, asking a question. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’m probably leaving soon though.”
She continued her conversation for a few more minutes, but you didn’t hear anything after that. A tension headache was sharp behind your eyes, while anger (yes, anger) rolled hot under your skin. Your lips pursed. You busied yourself with straightening up the kitchen until she continued her call for another few minutes.
“Sorry about that,” she said, finally turning her attention back to you. “So what do you need?”
You put away the last dry dish and turned to her coolly.
“Nothing.”
Andréa frowned. She knew there was something off with you, but her furrowed brows betrayed her confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” you repeated. “Don’t you need to head out, anyway?”
“No, I was just…what’s up with you?” she asked.
“What’s up with me is my grandfather’s dying!” you snapped. You left her in the kitchen, precisely so that she’d follow you out. You grabbed her purse for her and went to the front door, where you stepped out.
Andréa was dismayed and confused as she followed you out onto the porch. She raised her brows at you when you shut the door and crossed your arms at her.
“I know you, and this isn’t just about that. What’s the problem?” she asked.
“You can’t seem to detach from your boyfriend for more than five minutes to just be my friend. That’s the problem,” you replied. “But why should I be surprised? Like always, you’re too wrapped up in yourself to consider anyone else.”
Her brows knitted together; she looked hurt by your words, but also defensive.
“How can you say that when you’ve been exactly the same way?” she accused. “Since you met Dean, I’d be lucky to see you once a week—”
“I call you every week,” you began, counting the list with your fingers. “You’re always busy, but you never give me a day that works for you. And when we do make plans, you usually cancel. Why? Because you’re going sailing with Benny. You’re going to a restaurant, hours away, just to try the new sushi bar beer garden, or whatever the hell. Or you’re going on an impromptu road trip, or you’re planning a summer trip to Greece. Give me fucking break, Dre.”
By now she was frowning angrily, her arms crossed. “You’re mad at me because I have a life?”
“No. I’m happy for you that you found someone. I really am,” you said. “But we clearly live in two different versions of reality. I just don’t have the time or the energy to entertain yours.”
You knew you were being too harsh. You felt incredible guilt as soon as it all left your mouth…but part of you also felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. The problem was, you still felt heavy. Just in a different way.
Both of you were crying when Andréa left your house.
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All too soon, a week became a month. In that time, Dean called you every day to check on you. He spent most of his evenings with you and George when he wasn’t on shift. And when he was, sometimes Meg would drop in.
She understood your argument with Andréa, and she respected you for taking a stand when you needed to. She even confided you that she’d had similar frustrations with her cousin lately.
But Meg wasn’t your only visitor. Ellen had come a few times to bring you lunch and dinner, even breakfast, though you hadn’t asked her to. You realized then how close Dean must be to his friends at the firehouse, along with the Harvelles; Ellen also refused to take any money from you for the food.
By the end of the month, George mainly spent his days sleeping. Pain medication made his days nearly painless, but not without struggle. You were doing your best to care for him while continuing to work full-time from home. You were also exhausted, though you refused to admit it.
Today was a better day, however, because George was awake. He was also more aware of his surroundings than usual.
He stopped you from adjusting his pillow so you would sit down on the edge of his bed. He took your hand in his, brushing a thumb over the back of it.
“I’m okay with this, you know,” he said. You pursed your lips, but he stopped you from whatever you were going to say. “I don’t want to leave you. You know that…but I’m so damn proud of you. Your Gram was, and still is…”
Your lower lip wobbled as you tried and failed to keep your tears at bay. They stung in your eyes and slipped past your defenses, down your face.
“The house is yours. But if that’s too hard for you, just sell it,” he said, heaving a deep breath. “It’s just the bones. You’re the heart. And you always have been.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but not a sound would come out. You held his hand with both of yours and stared down at them. Until his voice once again commanded your attention.
“I always thought…moving to the city ruined my daughter. That we should’ve stayed in Lebanon. That maybe I gave her too much freedom, and I failed her somehow along the way,” George said. His eyes were heavy with old heartache. And yet, they soon began to lighten.
“But the day we lost a daughter, we gained one too,” he said. Then, he chuckled a little. “And I know I never failed with you, sweetheart.”
That proved to be too much for you. He pulled you into his arms like you were still a child, and he held you for a long time while you cried yourself out.
Though he eventually spotted Dean hesitating in the doorway. He’d probably let himself in with the spare key you’d given him.
George raised a hand from your back and silently beckoned Dean inside his room. He was getting tired, drifting off thanks to the morphine.
“Hey, lookie there. The boyfriend’s here,” George whispered with a bit of cheek. You sucked in a breath and raised your head, wiping at your eyes before you turned around. Dean met you with an attempt at a smile and a gentle hand on your back.
“Just got out of work?” you asked. He’d been on a 24-hour shift, and you’d missed him. You stood and stepped into his welcoming embrace. He dropped a kiss on your forehead.
“Yeah. I’ve got the next couple of days off,” Dean said. He greeted George next and asked him if he needed anything.
“Just some water,” the older man replied.
“I’ll get it,” you said with a sniff. “Need to start dinner too.”
“I already brought some food. You like Italian, right?” Dean said, with a subtle smile. It earned your sigh and a grateful smile. He knew very well that it was now one of your favorites. Italian meatballs always reminded you both of your first date.
“Thank you,” you said, grasping his hand. He squeezed yours with a nod, before he let you go.
When you were out of earshot, George cleared his throat past a wet cough. Dean reached over and grabbed him a tissue. George took it with a nod. Again, he encouraged Dean to come closer.
“I’m not worried,” George said, between deep breaths. “You know why?”
Dean just stared back for a moment. He genuinely had no idea what the man might say next.
“Tell me,” he said.
“My granddaughter’s strong. Always has been, because she had to be,” said George. “But you’re gonna be there when she’s not.”
Dean considered the weight of that charge. The anxiety in his chest felt familiar; like the day he got his badge at the Fire Academy, knowing then the responsibility he held in his hands.
That’s a lot to put on just three months of knowing this girl, came a more selfish thought. It sounded a lot like the guy he used to be, not too long before he met you.
But when Dean thought about you, and what you’d begun to mean to him…
He realized that he only had one answer.
“Yes, sir. I am,” said Dean.
George gave a tired smile. “Good man.”
And that night, an agreement was made. 
In the morning, your grandfather was gone.
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Dean held you through what he thought was the worst of your heartbreak. But after that dour morning, it was like a switch flipped inside you.
In the days after George’s death, your shutters came up. You threw yourself into checklists and task after task—in funeral arrangements and planning and contacting distant relatives and friends.
This was your failsafe. Your version of “autopilot.” And these things needed to get done, after all.
But Dean worried when he no longer saw the softer side of you. Like your heart had been wrung dry. 
He inevitably had to go back to work, but in between the demanding hours of his schedule, he tried to get you to slow down. He saw the warning signs of you running yourself into the ground. He just didn’t know how to help you land.
So Dean picked up slack where he saw it, often without you asking him to. He began fixing the house, one section at a time. He enlisted Benny’s help, since he actually had a small construction business. Dean even paid for the materials himself without you knowing.
And one sunny afternoon, he took a break from repaving part of the cracked and uneven driveway to grab a beer inside. You were sitting at the kitchen table with stacks of papers all around you, your cellphone on speaker as some kind of elevator music continued to ring on a loop.
“Can you believe I’ve been on hold with the funeral director for 20 minutes?” you told him in irritation. But you didn’t truly take sight of him until he came back from the kitchen.
He wore a familiar ensemble of jeans and black undershirt with a plaid shirt, rolled up to his elbows. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and his hands were dusty and stained from his work on the driveway. Dean looked tired, and that made you feel guilty.
Meanwhile, he frowned and popped open a beer. “You want one of these? Looks like you could use one.”
You shook your head. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You’d try calling again later. Instead, you focused on the next item of your checklist for today.
“Food. Because we’re gonna need to eat after the service,” you inclined your head. “Okay, still need to come up with a list of caterers, because I don’t think I can cook for that many people.”
Dean nodded at that. “Let me talk to Ellen. She’ll give you a good price, and her food is good.”
You looked up from your notepad and considered him thoughtfully. You wouldn’t have thought to cater from a bar, but he was right. Ellen had great food at the Roadhouse.
“Okay, I’ll call her,” you said.
“No, I’ll call her,” Dean insisted. He set down the beer on the table and leaned his palms flat on its surface. “Sweetheart, I told you I’d help you with all this. You don’t have to do it by yourself.”
“Dean, you’ve done enough,” you replied. Your brows drew together stubbornly. “You’re paving my driveway right now, for God’s sake! This is my responsibility, not yours.”
Dean frowned, making you sigh. You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms.
“Look, we’ve only been dating for three months,” you said. And in your mind, a good chunk of that time had been spent in the worst hell of your life. “This right here? It’s a lot. I’m not expecting you to deal with all this…”
You bit your lip, and your gaze fell away from his as your insecurities took hold. The thoughts that had been plaguing you every night since this all began, on the night of the car accident.
“And…if you’d rather take a break from us for a while, I’d understand,” you said.
Your voice was more collected than you felt. But that didn’t make it any easier when Dean stared back at you, mostly incredulous. You even thought you saw a thread of hurt there, and it made your heartache worsen.
Dean came around to your side of the table. He dragged a chair back and sunk into it, facing you directly.
“You think that’s the kind of guy I am?” he asked.
You immediately shook your head. You weren’t trying to upset him, or imply that he wasn’t reliable, or trustworthy, or whatever was running through his head. You were just trying to be realistic.
You’re so pragmatic it hurts, as Andréa had often told you.
“Dean, it’s not that…” you began, a bit helplessly. “I just—”
“Just, nothin’.” His chair scraped toward you as he reached out for your hand. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said this next part. 
“I’m not leaving you with this.”
Your gaze met his, though you desperately tried to keep your heart from rising into your throat. 
“I’m not leaving you,” Dean said. His tone, his eyes, his hold on your hand was firm.
For a moment, you stared at him, unblinking, even as tears swam in your eyes. 
He’s not leaving you. 
Not like everyone else in your life.
You were grateful. Too grateful, even, for words.
When you finally broke down into tears, Dean realized what an idiot he’d been. Your wall of stoicism had been just that—a flimsy wall. Now it was shattered, and so were you.
It scared him just how much, as he gathered you onto his lap and into his arms. You didn’t seem to care that he was dirty and covered with sweat. You clung to him strong, and he held you back just as tightly.
“No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough,” you confessed. “You save people all the time. I couldn’t save anyone in my life.”
Dean frowned. He cupped the back of your head, and he felt your tears sliding down his neck. His voice was thick with emotion when he was able to reply.
“Oh, baby. It’s not your fault.”
“I can’t…I can’t do anything. Anything that matters.” Your voice was a broken whisper. It damn near broke his heart. 
“Now you know that’s not true,” he said. “I’m not gonna let you lie to yourself like that.”
You trembled and heaved with sobs, and he continued to hold you.
Just be there, Sam had told him, when Dean had called him from the hospital. Sam reminded him again last week, when George finally passed.
Is that all I’m supposed to do? Dean thought. His brows furrowed, but he tried to hide his frustration.
He was used to people depending on him. He led a team. Before then, he’d looked out for Sam all his life. Dean had never had to help someone get through this kind of grief though. He just wanted to help you, in whatever way he could.
Because he was worrying, just like you. That whatever he did, it wouldn’t be enough.
But he couldn’t leave you. 
I can’t, and I won’t, he thought. So he took a breath, and he said the first true thing that came to mind.
“You’re the strongest woman I know, you know that?” Dean said. He spoke low and steady, but with the conviction he felt. “And that’s a tall order, considering some of the badass ladies I’ve got in my life.”
A smile tugged at his lips when he considered people like Ellen and Jo, Jody and Donna. He might’ve lost his mom, but he and Sam hadn’t lacked when it came to influential women in their lives.
“But I saw it the day we met. I see it every time we’re together,” he continued. “You work hard as hell. You take care of everyone around you…”
You were still quiet, trying to stifle your crying.
Dean let out a breath. “Man, if you only knew how much you’ve been helping me. Keeping my damn feet on the ground with this whole…arsonist mess my dad’s been investigating. Digging up the past, my mom, the whole damn thing.”
With a sniffle, you uncurled from him, just enough to reveal your face. Your grip on his shirt loosened, your palm flattening on his chest. He held your hand there and turned his lips to your forehead. He sensed that you were calming down. That you were listening.
“That matters to me,” he told you.
You nodded and tightened your hand on his. “Me too.”
Your voice was still shaky, but it sounded a little stronger.
“See? You might as well face it.” Dean grinned. “You’re a badass chick with a big heart.”
You snorted in response. Your lips even twitched at a smile. He spied it when he looked down at you. And you rested easier against him as your tears subsided.
“Thank you,” you whispered. He dried your cheek with a brush of his hand. 
“For what?” he asked.
“For staying.”
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AN: So first off, I'm sorry for the gritty "reality" of this one. It's just where the story took me, though it serves a purpose narratively and for both the reader and Dean's character development.
But also, I think this has just been on my mind, since both my grandmother and great uncle (brother and sister) died within a year of one another due to different forms of cancer. My great uncle passed in May of this year, and my grandmother two years this past October.
Again, I'm sorry if this one was too heavy, but art does imitate life and this was probably my brain trying to express those emotions I couldn't fully make sense of at the time. George will be missed, but will still be felt in the rest of this story, as I'm sure any of you who've lost close family members will understand. 💙
Next Time:
The identity of Azazel will finally be revealed in Part 12. But first...
You nodded. “By the way, it was nice of Sam and Eileen to come. And Meg and Cas.” 
Dean smiled.
“They can be your people too,” he said. “If you want ‘em to be.”
You couldn’t help it. Your tears brewed and bubbled over. And you moved slowly across the couch to twine your arms around his neck. Dean’s lips tugged at a smile, and he welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.
Both of you were still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing all day; you in your black dress and Dean in his slacks and white buttoned-down shirt, though by now without the jacket, and the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
You were infinitely exhausted. But one thing had become clear to you over the past few weeks.
“Thank you. Thank you for today, and for every day since we met,” you said shakily.
Keep Reading: PART 12
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Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb
@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19
@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420
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iwashie · 3 days ago
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𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙄 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙚𝙭
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Imagine Sevika breaking up with you; breaking your heart again as she sees your eyes fill with tears as you grabbed only a jacket and left her apartment, slamming the door on your way out and never coming back. She was sure she was doing the right thing. It was the best for you two, especially for you to stay away from problems. 
She had to get used to the new routine of coming home late at night and entering an empty apartment without your presence welcoming her home with a kiss, and the table set with delicious food, without your laugh and warmth, calling her by the pet names. 
While you sank in sadness, crying every night, thinking where you two went wrong, missing Sevika, she spent nights on end at the brothel, filling your empty space with another face, body, warmth, kiss and touches, just to still feel empty and lonely. But she faced her decision without regrets, without getting in touch, avoiding all the places you two could run into each other. 
She had to send your stuff back through Ran since you refused to go to her place to pick it up; all of your things were boxed in your living room when you came home from work. That was a definitive end to what you two were. 
That night, Sevika almost got kicked out of the brothel because of the chaotic situation she was in; sobbing and drunkenly calling for you, throwing punches at the men. 
You grow used to the new life, accepting her decision and moving on with your life, also avoiding all the places you could see her. Spending months without seeing each other, quietly living the new single life.
Just to one day while Sevika was strolling through the streets she listened to your laugh coming from nearby, and her heart stopped for a minute, the feeling of miss filling her. She followed your voice, hoping to see you after all this time, and make small talk with you; after all, you’re a Zaun citizen and she cares for her people. She stopped and her smirk died when saw you laughing, receiving a bouquet of flowers and getting hit on by another woman.
Sevika felt like hit by a punch, seeing you accept the flowers and touch the woman. Her world slowly crumbling at her feet as she felt a grip on her heart and her head filled with your image welcoming her home, your smiling face, your laugh, your shine eyes, your touches and kisses, your voice calling her and your body moving inside her apartment, dancing in the kitchen with her jazz disco collection, your body dancing on her hands while you two made love. She could feel your body glued on hers, your arms and legs tangled on her body while your face is crushed against her chest, and all the domestic moments you two lived. All of it disappears while she’s alone in her room, your scent long gone, the apartment empty and dark without your shining presence there, making her happy and loved.
The memories hitting her differently.
Sevika felt triggered knowing that someone out there is buying you roses, possibly making you happy the way she couldn’t, that you moved on like you had enough, quitting her like a cigarette. And now she’s six feet deep seeing roses everywhere, killing her that someone is stealing her girl for good and she can do nothing about it. 
Sevika was in front of your door, banging on it, hoping not to see that woman with you, and when you opened, your face rapidly changing, she was speechless for a while. What was she doing at your door late at night, maybe drunk, holding a bouquet of flowers and looking at you with anticipation, her words stuck to her throat. 
“Think I got it bad if i’m honest, thought that I was good, turns out that I’m a little far from it. You didn’t call me. You moved on… And I am still stuck in the past, overthinking my actions and words, they were all lies.”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest, and Sevika gulped, her eyes scanning everywhere just to stop at your pretty face. She opened her mouth and closed again, gesturing her arms.
“I saw you with that woman and I… I went crazy. I was a fool to break up with you. I can’t live without you… I’m so fucking empty without you. Everything reminds me of you and I just think about the good time we had together. I… Doll, I need you.”
You uncrossed your arms, stepped outside your house and grabbed the bouquet she extended to you, smelling the flowers; your favorite flowers and your perfume that never came from her house. 
“Baby, please… give me another chance.” She begged, almost kneeling in front of you. “Give us another chance. Please.” 
You shook your head, a little sigh escaping your mouth as you passed the bouquet to one arm and with the other pulled her to you. Your lips touching in a soft kiss as her hands find its place on your waist, bringing you closer. “I hate you, Sevika.”
“But I love you, doll. And now you’re stuck with me forever.” She said, giving you a lingering peck and pushing you inside your house, closing the door with her foot.
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@iwashie 2025, please do not translate, modify or republis my works
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solvicrafts · 1 day ago
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You know, I've seen a few people online making shitty comments about the fires in SoCal right now, and about all the rich peoples' homes burning, and I'm disgusted and just so exhausted over how crass, mean-spirited, and downright nasty so many people are the moment they think they're in the clear to feel good about someone else being hurt, just as long as it's, you know, one of THOSE people and not them.
Meanwhile, I'm over here thinking about when I used to work at the hippie woo store a few years back, and I was waiting outside for the bus after a night shift, and one of our regular customers (a pretty wealthy woman who I'm pretty sure LIVES in one of the areas that's affected by the fires right now) drove past me, then pulled around and gave me a ride home.
And then I remembered the time she waited until nearly closing time one night hoping to confront another regular customer who had been horrendously rude to me.
Hot take: I have had coworkers that were full on MAGA, anti-vaxxers, anti-choice, etc. and as much as I absolutely could not stand those people, as angry as I was that I would get punished for reporting their inappropriate behavior, as resentful as I was about the times I was told to apologize to my racist old coworker for offending her by pointing out that she can't be going on insane rants while ringing up our fucking customers, at the end of the day, if I ran across that same coworker bleeding out in the road, I would run out to help her.
I fundamentally disagreed with her on every single thing that came out of her mouth. I consider her one of the most vapid, selfish, and ignorant people I've ever met in my life. And I would still help her if I came across her and she needed it, not because I particularly want to do something nice for her, but because it's the right thing to do.
I would not take pleasure out of watching her suffer, or lose her home. I would not enjoy watching my most hated customers go through that. I sure as hell don't enjoy seeing complete strangers suffer and lose THEIR homes. I could sit here and whine about how at least THEY have homes to lose, or I could do the bare minimum thing that any decent person can do, and just not be a huge asshole.
I'm sure a good at least a few of those people who lost their homes were probably some of my worst customers. I know the area (well, a little bit, anyway), and I know we had shoppers that would come out to our store from there. And quite a few of them were absolutely insufferable. And still, I hope that they are safe, and that their homes are okay.
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thanosscross · 3 days ago
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Baby - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader Part 3 Smut
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Summary: After months of being together, everytime you sleep together it feels just like the first time still, but Seung Hyun throws a twist in this time
Warnings: Smut, lots of smut
Seven and a half months, that's how long it had been since Seong Hyun asked you to be his girlfriend, and while you were both reserved in public, you didn't hold back in the bedroom, as more time passed though, the more you learned about your lover, that in reality, the big ego, cocky, outgoing Seung Hyun was just for show, in reality, your boyfriend was basically a big teddy bear, one of the first males you met that was actually in touch with his feelings and fears, and wasn't afraid to admit it. He was your everything at the moment, you both came dependent on each other while still keeping to your independent natures, you could go days without seeing each other, but neither of you would really sleep well or truly relax until you were together again.
"Seung hyun" You whined, desperately trying to wake him up, it was a Saturday, meaning you both had the day free of any responsibilities, and while you had planned a day with your boyfriend, it seemed he had other plans of sleeping all morning. You couldn't lie though, he looked adorable laying curled up under his fluffy comforter, not to mention relaxed and peaceful, sighing you just climbed out of bed in defeat "Fine, I'll be back at noon" You threatened kissing his forehead gently, he just turned away tiredly, pulling the stuffed animal he had used as a pillow with him. You rolled your eyes giggling to yourself as you made your way out of the room looking around for anybody who was awake. "Bo-mi!" You heard the boys shouting in chorus, you just raised your eyebrows at them in confusion "Oh! y/n! We thought you were Seung hyun" Dae-Sung apologized sheepishly, blushing softly "You're fine, you guys are pretty too" You offered with a smile before making your way to the kitchen to get your morning (coffee or tea, just your choice of morning drink). Walking back with the mug, you sat next to Ji-yong glancing at the game they were playing on the tv.
You ended up playing with them for a good two hours before you all just ended up talking, it started out sweet, them complimenting you on how much you've changed Seung Hyun to where he's been a little more outgoing with things, you complimenting them on how hard they've been working lately, until they started interrogating you. "We never you see you anymore!" Ji-yong groaned "Seung Hyun stole you!" Dae-sung added, you laughed loudly hiding your face in your blanket you had wrapped around your body "He's my boyfriend!" You giggled loudly before looking towards him again "We miss you!" Tae-yung agreed crossing his arms "I miss you guys! But I practically live here! I'm right down the hall" You giggled, you could feel your face heating up as they continued "Don't think we can't hear what's happening in there! Oooo Seung hyun!" Ji-Yong teased mocking your words from the other night, whenever you thought you both were alone.
You squealed hiding your face again "Leave me alone! We're literally together! and adults!" You argued giggling loudly before looking to them "You all wouldn't understand, you're children" You giggled, they gasped at your comment before jumping and screaming out whenever they heard your boyfriend cough from the hallway "If I remember right it was, yesss, seung hyun" He stated making his way tiredly to you "You said you'd be back at noon" He frowned, you smiled at him, trying to hide the fact you were extremely flustered by the others knowledge of what exactly you sound like during sex. "Sorry, the boys are upset they don't see me as much" You giggled, Seung Hyun taking his rightful spot next to you on the couch, wrapping his arms around you tightly "They live with you?" He questioned before catching on laughing "Oh my!...you know..you guys are more than welcome to invite her to game or hangout, you just don't" He chuckled, you agreed, resting your head on his shoulder, only now realizing he had no shirt on, Not wanting to put him on the spot about his new found confidence you just smiled even wider hugging him "Not whenever you steal her!" Dae-sung whined, Seung Hyun just smirked "What you mean like this?" He asked before scooping you up with ease rushing to your bedroom, you screamed holding onto him tightly, not liking the fact he was running around corners with you in his arms.
As you got back into your room he smirked at you "Oh god, what do you want, my love?" You asked resting your hands on the base of his neck, admiring his eyes as he slowly lowered you down to your feet "You look really good in my clothes" He whispered stepping closer to you "You look really good with no shirt" You complimented, your words brought a bright pink hue to his cheeks as he blushed "You had my shirt" He protested shyly, you just shook your head giggling kissing him softly, Seung Hyun had other thoughts, taking the back of your neck in his hand as he pressed his lips against yours needier and rougher than you did. You just placed your hands in his hair, his other arm going around your waist to pull you closer to him if possible. "What has gotten into you?" You teased as he pushed you down onto the bed "You have changed me" He growled against your neck, you tilted your head to the side allowing him more access as he continued "I feel..more myself with you, you let me live my life while still being a big part of it, you know just what to say, you're perfect" He whispered, you just now realizing his lips were pressed against your jaw "You're so sweet, but I didn't change anything, you did that, Seung Hyun" You smiled, moaning softly whenever he started to leave a trail of hickeys across your neck "See? Just what to say" He smirked against your skin, before pulling away to make eye contact with you "I love you" He said, causing you to stare at him in shock, you watched the emotions run over his face "I love you too" You finally found yourself saying looking into his dark eyes, his smirk returned before you pressed your lips to his.
Gasping as Seung Hyun lined himself up with your entrance, you glanced up to look at him, his eyes were trained between the two of you, more concerned about getting everything right so he didn't hurt you. You slowly raised a hand to his cheek, tilting his head slightly to look at you "You're okay" You smiled, nodding a bit before leaning up kissing him deeply, Seung Hyun took that as his sign to ahead, pushing his dick fully in, bottoming out before he brought his hands to your face, cupping his cheeks as he kissed you deeply.
It didn't matter how many times you guys fucked each other, it would always take you both by surprise, Seung Hyun groaned quietly panting against your lips as he slowly started thrust his hips, You weren't doing much better to compose yourself, running your nails down his back and chest, trying your best to stifle your moans so your eavesdropping roommates wouldn't hear. "gongjunim, baby, easy" He groaned against your lips, it wasn't that it hurt him, he just didn't want to cum this early, not only would it be embarrassing, but he also wanted to savor the feeling before he had a whole new week of writing and recording. You turned your hands from his back to his hands, which he quickly used the advantage to pin them above your head, interlacing your fingers together as the speed of his hips thrusting increased, you whimpered loudly wrapping your legs around his hips, his hand finding it's way to your clit, rubbing a mixture of circles and figure eights against it, pulling away from your lips, he leaned back, getting a full view of you underneath him.
Feeling conscious of everything on your body settled over you as you noticed Seung Hyun's staring, you bit your lip, looking away from his gaze "Baby..look at me" He whispered, resting his free hand on your stomach as his thrusts slowed, whimpering as his dick basically slammed in and out of you. Slowly you looked over to meet his gaze "You're breathtaking my love, just like the most beautiful waterfalls, the most expelling art piece, just like the beauty of true unfiltered pure art, and it's all mine" He whispered, you wanted to giggle, even as he basically taking away your ability to properly walk for the next day, he still finds a way to be as charming as possible. "I love you Seung Hyun" You giggled, pulling him closer to press your lips against his hungrily, between his fingers on your clit and him inside of you, you were desperate to cum, but his speed was like a constantly tease, bringing you to the edge before ripping it away. "Fucking Please Seung Hyun" You moaned, growing frustrated with his teasing antics you threw your head back "Huh?" He teased, smirking, you rolled your eyes, of course, you had done it once before, as a joke, and of course he wanted you to do it again. "I'm not doing that" You giggled "Please just actually fuck me, baby" You asked, purposely pitching your voice lower with a slight seductive tone, Seung Hyun squeezed your hip tightly, not liking the reaction his body had to your voice. He just persisted, only now his lips were attached to your nipple, swirling his tongue to match the movements of his fingers on your clit, you whined loudly, cheeks growing hot with a blush, of course he had to think one of your cringiest jokes was hot.
"Please fuck me, Top, I swear I know all the words to your songs, you're so fucking hot- God damnit please!" You whined, your tone going from annoyed to just frustrated, he just seemed to find enjoyment in your neediness and frustration. "I guess" He smirked against your skin, pulling his lips off with a pop, replacing them with his hand that wasn't between your legs. "Just remember, whenever your legs hurt later, you wanted it this badly" He teased before moving his hips at a pace you swear you had never felt before, you couldn't stop the moan that was pulled from your lips as you arched your back, his fingers increasing their speed on your clit as well. You ran your hands down his back, feeling it arch under your touch, you whimpered as he groaned against your collarbone, trying to stay mindful of the headboard not smacking against the wall.
As you got closer to your orgasm you felt Seung Hyun move your legs slightly higher on his waist, his hand going right back to your nipples after words "I'm not cumming until you do, Gongjunim" He grunted, you just squeezed his shoulders tightly in reply, knowing if he kept up with the abuse on your clit you'd definitely fall apart soon. Before Seung Hyun could say anything else you pulled his lips to yours, desperate to try and muffle your moans any ways you could, your legs squeezing tightly around his waist as your pussy squeezing his cock even tighter if possible. Seung Hyun moaned himself for the first time with you, tilting his head down as he dropped to his elbow propping him up "That's it baby, use me for anything you need" He whispered leaving a final hickey right above your left nipple, you whimpered loudly as you came around him, Seung Hyun waited a moment to catch his breath before grabbing your hips, groaning, still in love with the fact your hips fit perfectly in his hands. You bit your lip looking up at him, this time as he looked between the two of you, he had a different look in his eyes, he bit his lip as he started his pace again, this time alot more sloppy, he felt like he was about to explode, somehow harder than he had been in months, and the way you felt around him wasn't helping the situation, the closer he got to cumming, the worse it got. Noticing his pace starting to falter, you placed a hand on his chest pushing slightly to roll the both of you, positioning yourself to straddle him, you started to roll your hips against his. His grip on your hips tightened as his head fell back "Fuck, please don't stop, baby" He begged, his tone pitched slightly higher "Why would I stop, my love? You look fucking amazing like this" You asked pressing soft butterfly kisses down his jawline and neck, leaving hickeys as soon as you got to his collarbone, knowing that they needed to be hidden in order for him not to be in trouble.
Seung Hyun never realized how hot it'd be to have you on top, especially while having you try to boost his confidence, but here you were and he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his cock even harder if possible. "Fuck! Fuck! Baby I'm so close" He groaned sitting up to bring your lips to his for a very sloppy kiss, a mixture of tongue and teeth connecting as you copied your previous movement, squealing as he dug his nails into your hips, holding them where they were, his hips lifting up to meet yours as he started to cum, you kissed him deeper as you felt the warm liquid spill into you. After a few minutes, Seung Hyun slowly shifted to lay you onto the bed and pull out of you, much to your dismay, you let him, not without giving him one last short kiss. "I swear..everytime is like the first time" He panted as he hid his face in the curve of your neck, you trailed your nails over the back of his hairline and down his neck, feeling him slowly catch his breath, you couldn't shake the thought you had the entire time Seung Hyun said I love you. "Baby?..are you okay?" His deep voice pulled you from your thoughts "I'm amazing..trust me..but..did you mean what you said?.." You asked nervously, now twisting his messy hair in-between your fingers "That I love you?" He asked, almost like he could read your mind, you just hummed in agreement "Of course I meant it, I wouldn't ever say something to you that I don't mean" He said, leaning away to be able to look you in the eyes "I love you, Y/n, You make me feel like a good..happy person" He smiled softly, pressing a gently kiss to your forehead "I love you too, then" You smiled, before starting to sit up "Shower with me?" You offered, he just smirked standing up offering his hand out to you, taking a moment to admire how truly amazing he looked naked. "Oh Y/nnn.." He called out in a teasing tone "You like?" He smirked turning to face you to pull you up out of bed "I very very much like, sir" You replied, placing your hands on his chest as you walked him backwards into the bathroom.
--
You like? No seriously though, I tried my best but everything today kept snapping me out of the zone, so I apologize it's not my usual smutty work
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lynnaredfield3383 · 2 days ago
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Not my characters. Aged up 21. Fem reader. Warning!!! Weight insecurities. Chubby reader insulted. Angst. Sex inflicted scratches/bites mentioned. (Understand Bokuto kept the secret because reader would break up with him if he didn't.)
"Wow. Yer girl is vicious,” Atsumu said as he passed Bokuto in the locker room.
Atsumu’s words had the rest of the team looking at Bokuto's back. Meanwhile, Bokuto laughed proud of the marks left by his girlfriend.
“Nah…She likes to bite and I'm all for it,” Bokuto spoke like a man whipped for his woman.
“When are we meeting this mystery girl?”
Hinata asked pulling his shirt on.
“I was thinking this weekend,” Bokuto shut his locker turning to his teammates.
“Is she shy or sumthin’?” Atsumu asked grabbing his bag.
Bokuto rubbed the back of his neck, not sure how to answer the question.
“Not normally, but she's not a big fan of athletes or volleyball.”
“How does that even work?” Kiyoomi asked.
“Look, she didn't want me to say anything, but we've been together for 8 months now and…”
“Eight months!!! You kept it a secret?” Hinata spoke in shock.
“She went to high school with Sumu.”
Everyone stopped what they were doing assuming what came next would be juicy gossip. They weren't wrong.
“Huh? Did we know each other?” Sumu asked surprised.
“Yeah. You insulted her. She's over it because it was high school, but she hasn't really wanted to meet the team because…Uh, she can't stand you.”
All eyes on Sumu, he himself was surprised. Insulting people on a daily basis through high school made it impossible for him to narrow down who it might be.
“You didn't call her an oinkin’ pig, did you?” Hinata asked.
“I…I don't know who it could be. I mean I insulted anyone that crossed my path but in fun, never hurtful.”
Bokuto looked really uncomfortable and grabbed his bag.
“Jellyroll. You called her a jellyroll because she was a little chubby.”
All the color drained from Sumu’s face, his heart stopped. Swallowing hard he met Bokuto's gaze.
“Y/n? Yer dating Y/n?” Sumu stuttered.
“Oh gee, looks like his brain stopped functioning,” Kiyoomi spoke bored.
“Yeah. She was sure you wouldn't remember her,” Bokuto said.
Sumu could never forget Y/n. He'd had a crush on her since 1st year and at the end of 2nd year after they'd lost at Nationals she'd come to support them. Sumu being angry and an idiot had told her to get lost. That he didn't need a jellyroll trying to make him feel better. When 3rd year came around Y/n had transferred schools and he'd never gotten a chance to apologize. Or to confess.
“I hurt her bad. Always felt awful ‘bout that,” Sumu nearly whispered.
“Well, you'll get the chance to apologize,” Hinata smiled brightly.
“Yeah. Maybe she'll start coming to the games,” Bokuto added.
“Okay, what does she look like now?” Meian finally spoke up.
Bokuto grinned happily, pulling out his phone and his favorite picture of Y/n. It was Y/n & Bokuto on a beach date. Y/n wore a black one piece bathing suit with the sides cut out.
“Wow.” Hinata whistled lowly.
“Those are some dangerous curves,” Meian added.
“Very pretty,” Kiyoomi offered with no energy.
Sumu hesitated, and when he looked, his heart stuttered. She was as beautiful as he remembered.
“Congrats man. Sorry, my high school self screwed things around for ya.”
"All good. Can't wait for the rest of you to meet her! Night!"
Hinata sat next to Astumu once the others left.
"Ya good?" Hinata asked.
"Not a bit. C'mon. You're my sober driver."
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starlost-maniac · 2 days ago
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My Significant Bother - Ch 1
Warnings/genre: SMUT, piv, unprotected sex (don't do it), mxf, mxm, some angst if you squint, unrequited love(?), Mean Jisung (kinda?) I probably missed some (I'll eventually remember all the tags -_-)
Pairing: MinSung x fem!reader
dividers made by @cafekitsune
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"Tell me again why I'm here." You say in your boyfriend's ear before leaning back, giving him a look, drink in hand.
"Because it's my best friend's birthday, you promised me you'd go out more and you love me." He smiles at you, talking over the music blaring in the club. "Plus.." He leans back a bit more, looking you over. "You look so damn gorgeous." You smile and roll your eyes.
"I would hope I do, Minho. You picked the dress out." You take a sip of your drink. He chuckles, looking you over again. The dress was black with mint accents, the top was strapless and had a deep v cut, showing off plenty of cleavage. The dress stopped at your ankles, hugging the curves of your chest, waist and hips perfectly before becoming more flowy from mid thigh.
"You always do, kitten." He places his hands on your hips, pulling you close. He leans down to kiss you. Just as his lips land on yours, you hear the DJ announce over the music, "The birthday boy is here!"
You groan into Minho's mouth and pull away, rolling your eyes as Jisung strolls into the club. He greets people along the way to you and Minho. You take another sip of your drink and turn around in Minho's arms, leaning back against him. He leans forward some, wrapping his arms around your waist just under your breasts.
"Please try to be civil, kitten. I know you don't like him, but just for today?" He whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek. You groan out before letting out a quiet 'fine'. Minho smiles. "Good kitten." He stands up straight and holds you close.
When Jisung gets to you and Minho, he glares at you and groans. "Hyung, why did you invite this…" He gestures to you without breaking eye contact with your boyfriend.
"Jisung, I've asked her to be civil for your birthday. Can't you be nice today?" He gives you a gentle squeeze. Jisung huffs before looking at you. He looks you over, staring at your chest for longer than he needed before looking back into your eyes.
"Thanks for coming…I guess." He crosses his arms.
"And, Jisung?" You feel Minho chuckle against your back.
"And..you look very…not ugly today." Jisung huffs. You roll your eyes and sip your drink again.
"So how's your birthday so far man?" Minho asks, gently rubbing your ribs with his fingers.
"Good, great honestly. Got a new job at an office. Better pay and shorter commute too." Jisung says, waving the bartender down. You end up blocking out the rest of what he says.
You look out over the crowd, slowly sipping on your drink. You see a group of your girl friends from school come inside. They were part of your friend circle from school, that—unfortunately—Jisung was part of too. You and Jisung were not friends. You were the farthest thing from friends. He always picked on you throughout school, but stopped most of the bullying when Minho came into the picture. Minho was a new transfer and he joined your clique pretty quick. He got really close to both you and Jisung. Minho ended up asking you to your senior prom and asked you to be his girlfriend the same night. You've been dating since then.
You turn around in Minho's arms and step up on your toes to reach Minho's ear. "I see some girls from school. I'm going to say hi and mingle, maybe dance some."
"Ok, baby. Just be careful out there." He says back. "Don't want some random guy thinking he can have a chance with you. Especially since the girls are almost on full display." He chuckles, gently grazing his hands over your breasts, his fingers playfully following the v cut.
"I know, love. Only for you." You wink at him before kissing his cheek. You walk off to join your friends, their cheers can just be heard over the music. Minho chuckles and sits on one of the stools at the bar, watching you.
"Honestly, hyung, you could do so much better than her. There's a club full of hot girls here that would love to be under you. Probably a few dudes too." He laughs out. He leans back against the bar counter next to Minho.
"Nah. No way, Ji. She's honestly it. I've been with her for 7 years. I can't give her up now." He smiles, watching you dance with your friends. His gaze shifts over to Jisung, a mischievous smirk on his face. "Why do you say that, though? You jealous?" He chuckles.
"What? Hyung, ew. No. First off, she's definitely not my type. Second, she's your girlfriend." He gives Minho a look. "Plus, I may have slept around in college, but I never slept with a taken person…on purpose." He takes a sip of his drink, gaze shifting back to the crowd before landing on you.
"Jisung. I've heard you talk in your sleep. You've said her name so many times over the years." Minho laughs. Jisung rolls his eyes.
"Like you haven't dreamt of your enemies before." He turns, calling the bartender over again for a few shots.
"Oh I have. I definitely have, but not like that, and I don't moan their name with a full hard-on in my sleep." Minho wiggles his eyebrows at his best friend. Jisung just makes a disgusted face. Minho laughs and pats his friend on the back before shifting his gaze back to you. "Honestly though, Ji. I wouldn't mind it. I trust and love you both. You're both the most important people in my life." Minho shrugs. "I'd love it if you both got closer and stopped fighting so much."
You look over at Minho and wave, dancing with your friends. Your girl friends wave to him too. He chuckles and waves back before blowing you a kiss. He couldn't believe how incredibly lucky he felt to have you in his life.
"I love you, too, hyung. You're really important to me, too." Jisung turns around, facing the crowd again. He leans back against the bar and sips on a drink. It's quite between the two for a few moments before Jisung's eyebrows scrunch together and he slowly looks at Minho. "Wait. Did you imply that you wouldn't mind if Y/n and I fucked?"
"Yeah?" The older laughs. "You and I fucked a few times in high school before Y/n and I got together, too. She knows and it didn't really bother her. Maybe if you two fucked, it'll get some of that pent up anger you two have out." Minho shrugs, chuckling. Jisung squints at his hyung. "Plus, I'm sure it'd be pretty hot. Watching my girlfriend get railed by my best friend."
"Right…let's just enjoy the party. It's only a few more hours until my birthday is over." Jisung downs a shot quickly. "I'm going to go find someone to dance with." He goes out into the crowd. Minho watches and laughs.
You and your girl friends come up not long after, you immediately go into Minho's open arms. The girls and Minho catch up for a bit. Jisung comes back after a while. He smiles at the girls and thanks them for coming to his birthday party. They hugged him and kissed his cheek before going back onto the dance floor.
You all enjoy the party for a few more hours before you and Minho are ready to head home. Jisung does one more round of shots with some people before he leaves with you and Minho. Jisung gets in the back seat and lays down, wasted. You got in the passenger seat as you've had a few drinks and were definitely tipsy. Minho buckles you in and kisses your cheek. Once he gets in and buckles his belt, he drives to the house that he and Jisung own. Minho asked you to move in prior, but you declined, saying soon.
Minho drives carefully, trying to not make you or Jisung sick in the car. Parking the car, he got out and went to your side, opening the door for you. You smile at him and get out.
"Are you ok to walk, kitten?" He holds your hand.
"I should be ok. I'll wait for you in the bedroom." He nods and kisses your cheek softly. He opens the back door of the car and carefully gets Jisung out as you walk inside. After pulling Jisung out of the car, he carefully closes the door with his foot and goes inside. He brings Jisung to his room and carefully sets him on the bed. He takes the younger boy's shoes, shirt and pants off, rolling his eyes when he finds out Jisung wasn't wearing boxers. He dresses the boy in a pair of pajama pants and covers him with his blanket before leaving to go to his own room.
Minho finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling on your phone. He smiles and walks over to you, kneeling in front of you. You set your phone down and smile back at him. He slowly slides his hands up your left leg and under your dress, gently grabbing the thigh high stockings you wore. He slowly starts to slide it down your leg, not breaking eye contact with you. You shiver when his fingers gently touch your skin. He slips the stocking off before repeating with your right leg.
Standing up, he holds his hand out to you, helping you stand up. Once you stand, he turns you around and unzips your dress for you.
"So gorgeous in this dress.." He slips it off your body, letting it fall to the ground, leaving you in just your panties. "So gorgeous without." He leans down as he wraps his arms around you, softly kissing your neck. "How did I get so lucky with you, kitten? All those other guys vying for your attention.." he breaths against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "And I'm the one that won your heart over." He kisses up your neck to just under your ear, the tip of his nose ghosting your skin.
"You made me feel safe.." you breathe out, eyes closing. One of Minho's hands moves up to gently cup your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze. His other hand sliding down to the hem of your panties.
"Mm..I'll always keep you safe." He kisses behind your ear. "Let's go shower, my love." He slips his fingers into your panties, laying his hand flat against your belly before slipping his fingers back out, letting you go completely, making you whine softly at the loss of contact. You follow him out of his room and into the bathroom as he strips himself of his clothes on the way, starting the shower when he enters the bathroom. You slip your panties off, dropping them on the bathroom floor.
Stepping behind him as he was checking the water temperature, you wrap your arms around him, putting your hands on his pecs. You press your body right against him, your breasts squished against his back. He chuckles when you playfully squeeze his pecs a few times. He reaches down behind himself, playfully reaching for your core. You giggle and back away some.
"Mm, kitten wants to be playful it seems." He turns around and quickly grabs you, pulling you right against him. Wrapping his arms around you, he picks you up and wraps your legs around his waist. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck and he steps into the shower. He grins and steps under the water, getting you wet first.
"Kitten is wet in more than one place now." He chuckles and you stick your tongue out at him. "Don't stick that tongue out at me, kitten, unless you plan on using it." He smirks at you. You smile and lean down, slotting your lips with his, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He groans softly and you feel his dick twitch under you. He gently grips your ass a little as you make out. He gently readjusts you so he can slide his cock inside you, making you moan in his mouth. He pulls away with a smirk.
"Such a good kitten, taking me so well." He presses your back against the wall, bottoming out in you. "Who's good kitten are you, baby?"
"Ahh..yours..yours Minho. Only yours." You moan, feeling every inch of him that slips in you, filling you up.
"Good girl." You clench around him at the praise. He chuckles and leans down, attaching his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking marks onto your skin. He slowly starts to fuck up into you, gripping your ass. You moan out, tilting your head for him. Your nails gently run along his skin, the stream of water hitting his back making his skin slick.
He chuckles against your neck as he thrusts hard into you, making you gasp and moan. He kisses along your skin, leaving occasional marks. He leaves enough with the knowledge you'll have to cover them up come Monday. He grins as he picks up his pace, thrusting into you hard and fast. He coos at you when you moan and whimper. He can feel you getting close as you clench around him more.
"You gonna cum for me, kitten? Gonna be a good girl and cum around my hard cock?" He whispers in your ear, making you shiver despite being in a hot shower.
"Yes..yes. Wanna cum…" You arch your back, pressing your breasts against him. He grinds deep into you and you moan his name, cunt clenching around him hard as you cum. Minho latches onto your neck again and bites and kisses as he fucks you through your high before cumming deep into you.
"Good girl. Such a good kitten." He coos, peppering your face with kisses as you come down from your high, making you let out a breathy giggle. He helps you stand up, sliding out of you. "Let's get you cleaned up and head to bed. How's that sound baby?" He steps back under the stream, pulling you with him. You nod, getting sleepy. Minho smiles and carefully washes you and himself. He turns the water off and steps out of the cubicle. He wraps a towel around his waist and grabs a towel for you, drying you off.
Once you're back in his bedroom, he tosses on a pair of shorts to sleep in and grabs you a silky set of pajamas to sleep in, knowing they're one of your favorites. You lay in bed and cuddle up to him.
"Thank you for coming to Jisung's birthday party, kitten." He kisses your head.
"Of course, baby. I went for you, though." You cuddle as close to him as possible.
"I know, but still. Thank you." He rubs your back. "I do still hope that you two can be more friendly towards each other."
"Mm." You yawn, sleep finally taking you over. Minho smiles softly and kisses your head again. A few minutes pass and he hears a quiet knock on his bedroom door. He looks over and sees Jisung peeking his head through the door. Minho raises an eyebrow at him as the younger boy walks in and quietly shuts the door. He walks over to Minho's side of the bed and climbs in behind him.
"Sorry hyung. My room is cold and you're warm." Jisung said. He still sounded drunk, but could just be sleepy too. Minho laughs softly, trying not to wake you.
"You're fine. Just don't wake kitten." He whispers. Jisung nods a little, moving close to Minho. Minho chuckles a little as Jisung's hard on was pressed right against him. He sometimes forgets that his friend gets really horny when drunk. Jisung lays his head against Minho's back, the older man settles in, holding you close before he falls asleep himself.
——
Minho wakes up early the next morning, you and Jisung are still fast asleep in his bed. He carefully gets up, making sure not to jostle either of you, before leaving his room to use the bathroom then heading to the kitchen to make breakfast.
You turn over in your sleep, onto your side, facing away from the boy in Minho's bed. Jisung moves in his sleep as well, looking for Minho's warmth. He moves across the bed, finding you. He wraps his arm around you, thinking that you were his friend. You both sleep a little longer until Jisung wakes up, pressed right against you. He inhales deeply, smelling Minho's shampoo on you.
Jisung stretches and cuddles into you a bit more, thinking that you were Minho. He stays like that for a bit before he realizes that he's in Minho's bed, with you and not Minho, morning wood present, pressed against your ass. He scrambles out of the bed and lands on the floor with a thud, waking you up. You sit up and look around before you see him on the floor, hair a mess. You roll your eyes before glaring at him.
"What are you doing in here, Jisung? Minho put you in your bed last night." You cross your arms under your chest.
"I got cold and Minho-hyung usually lets me sleep in his bed when I'm cold." He snaps back, trying to hide his obvious morning wood. You roll your eyes again and get up out of bed. You leave the bedroom and head to the kitchen where you hear your boyfriend cooking. You walk up to Minho at the stove. You wrap your arms around his waist and lay your head on his back.
"Good morning, baby. Did you let Jisung sleep in bed with us last night?" You ask, interlocking your fingers around him.
"Mhmm. He said he was cold so he slept behind me. He usually does it when you aren't here, but he would have still been a little drunk." Minho says, flipping a pancake.
"Mm." You stay like that for a moment before letting go to get a drink. Jisung walks out when you get to the fridge, hair no longer a mess. He was still shirtless, his skin flawless, v-line on full display as he wore his sleep pants low.
"You're staring, Y/n." Jisung says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look away from him and grab your juice from the fridge.
"No I wasn't." You pour yourself a cup, putting the container back in the fridge.
"Sure you weren't. I didn't see it with my own two eyes." He says dryly, rolling his eyes. "I know I'm hot, but don't stare." You turn your head to glare at him, taking a sip of your drink before walking back to Minho. Your boyfriend plates up some pancakes and looks at you, a soft smile on his face.
"Can you bring this to the table, kitten?" He holds up a plate full of pancakes. You nod and take it from him. You bring it to the table, Jisung immediately taking one and biting half of it, his cheeks puffing up like a squirrel. You roll your eyes, going back to stand with Minho.
"Oh, baby." You look up at him, he lets out a soft 'hmm?'. "You remember my friend, Felix? You met him at last year's Christmas party. It's his birthday today."
"I remember. I sent him a gift basket of baking recipes and the like last week as an early gift. We talked a lot during that party." Minho looks at you and smiles. He leans down and pecks your lips. Jisung makes a gagging sound and Minho just chuckles.
"Don't be jealous, Jisung. I know kitten is beautiful, but no reason to be jealous." Minho winks at his friend. Jisung makes another gagging sound. "Just think about what we talked about last night, if you remember what I said." He laughs before plating up more food, taking it to the table. Jisung shakes his head and sits at the table and eats with you and Minho.
——
The following Monday, you were at work. You worked at a company that helped promote idols, whether it was making images or trailers/videos, or anything that they needed, your company did it all. You worked with Felix, Hyunjin and Changbin out of a closed off office on your floor. You were the team leader for this specific section, but still answered to Chan, the manager of the floor. Chan had called your team into the meeting room for a quick meeting.
"Y/n, Felix, Changbin, Hyunjin. I called you in to let you know that we have a new employee, and I'm assigning him to your team." He sits back in his seat. "You're the best team I have here, so I know you'll do great with a new body on hand." You nod at him. He turns towards the door and waves his hand, indicating for the new hire to come in.
You turn in your seat, smile on your face as you're excited to see who your new coworker was, just for the smile to fade as soon as you see Jisung walk in. He steps inside and freezes upon seeing you. He swallows and steps up to the table that you are all sat at.
"This is our new employee, Han Jisung. Jisung, this is Y/n, our team leader of the group you'll be working for, Changbin, Hyunjin and Felix." Chan says, indicating to each of the boys as he stands from his seat. "Y/n will show you to your desk, and will give you the rundown of how we do things, and if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask her." Chan smiles and leaves the meeting room. You sat there, still shocked. The other three members of your team all get up to greet their new member. Jisung greets them back, trying to hide his shock.
You stand up and look at Jisung. "Follow me, Jisung. I'll show you around the office." You leave the meeting room, Jisung follows behind not long after. You showed him some of the other offices on your floor, all managed by Chan, where the bathrooms were and where the break room was. You showed him where Chan's office was, his secretary and assistant's desks outside his office. You introduce Seungmin and Jeongin to Jisung before taking him back to your office where your team had already come back to.
"This is where you'll be sitting." You point to a desk at the end of the layout, opposite of where you sit. There were a few other empty desks closer to you, but you didn't really want him near you.
"Understood." He was trying to be professional in front of the others. By the time he settled in, it was time for lunch. You usually went to lunch with your team, so being cordial, you offered to take Jisung out. He looked at you, suspiciously, making you roll your eyes.
"I usually go to lunch with my team. You don't have to go." You stand up and grab your jacket.
"She really does, Jisung. She enjoys spending time with the team, even if she doesn't show it." Felix says, teasing you. You smile and roll your eyes again.
"If you're coming, then come. If not, then don't." You walk out of the office behind the other boys. Jisung hesitates for a moment before grabbing his coat and following behind you. It was Felix's turn to decide, and he wanted tteokbokki. You follow Felix to a table, sitting next to him with Changbin on your other side, Hyunjin across from Felix and Jisung across from you. You all place your order and sit quietly. Jisung chances a glance at you and sees your eyes flick to him. He makes a disgusted face and looks away from you.
Jisung chances a few more glances at you throughout lunch. He genuinely had thought about what Minho had said on his birthday. He did think that you were pretty, beautiful even. But you two had been fighting since you were kids. He honestly didn't think there would even be a chance for friendship given your history. When the food came, you all ate, the team started a conversation with Jisung. As your lunch hour came to a close, you and your team got up, you paying for their food, Jisung's included. He was honestly surprised.
You all walk back to the office, Jisung trailing behind you, the other three walking ahead of you. Jisung stares at you a few times on the walk back.
"I feel you staring, Jisung. Cut it out." You say without turning around.
"I'm not staring." He shifts his gaze from you. "Thank you for lunch, though." He says quietly. You simply nod. Going back up to your floor, you all go back to your desks, Jisung going to his before getting up to go to you. He needed help with his login as Chan hadn't given it to him, but had it on your desk. You get up and go around to his desk. You help him log in and show him how to use the programs he needs to use. That continues until the end of the work day.
"Can I ride home with you and Minho, Y/n? I took a cab here as I didn't know you worked here." He was quiet, not wanting to ask you for things.
"Ask Minho. He'll be here any minute." You look up from your phone, looking out for your boyfriend's car. Once he pulls up, you smile and get in the passenger seat. Jisung leans down so he can see Minho.
"Hyung, can I ride home with you and Y/n? I don't want to call another cab." He chuckles softly.
"Yeah, that's fine. Hop in." Minho says. He leans over and kisses your cheek as Jisung climbs in the back seat. The younger one makes a disgusted face again when Minho kisses your cheek. Minho laughs when he sees the face his friend makes. "What do you guys want for dinner?"
——
You were in your bathroom, taking off your makeup while Minho ordered pizza. Once your makeup was off, you changed out of your work outfit and into more comfortable clothes. One of Minho's oversized shirts that hung off your shoulder, and a pair of your sleep shorts, hidden just underneath Minho's shirt. You step out into the common area and Jisung covers his eyes from where he sits on the couch.
"Please put some pants on, Y/n." He peeks through his fingers.
"I am." You lift the hem of the shirt up to show off the shorts.
"Oh." Jisung lowers his hands. Minho walks in from the kitchen with three cups. You take one from him and thank him, smiling at him.
"I'm going to hop in the shower while we wait for the food to be delivered. It's already paid for, so when it gets here, just give him the tip money on the table by the door." Your boyfriend says. He kisses you softly after setting the other cups down.
"Will do. Thank you, baby." You kiss him back and he walks off to go shower. Not long after the water starts, there's a knock at the front door. You answer it and it's the delivery driver. You take the pizza and hand him the tip money. You notice him looking you over.
"What's a pretty little thing like you doing home alone like this?" He grins, leaning against the door frame.
"I'm not alone." You say, holding the pizza boxes. "I'm here with my boyfriend."
"I don't see anyone inside. So it looks like you're alone." He chuckles, trying to step inside. "And I don't think the old 'I have a boyfriend' card is going to work." You take a step back as he keeps trying to come inside.
"Ji..?" You call out, getting nervous. The delivery guy starts to reach for your arm, saying something that you weren't listening to. "Jisung?" You say calling louder.
"What?" He says coming around the corner to see you. He sees what's happening. "What's wrong man? Did my girlfriend forget to give you the tip?" He steps over to you, taking the pizza and setting it on the table by the door. He drapes his arm over your shoulder. The delivery guy looks between you and Jisung.
"This guy isn't your boyfriend." He scoffs.
"No, I am. Now if you'd kindly leave, I won't press charges for trespassing." Jisung watches him.
"Prove it then." This guy is getting ballsy. Jisung shrugs and turns you so you're facing him. He gives you a look that says 'trust me'. You didn't trust him, and really didn't want to, but you nod slightly and Jisung leans down, slotting his lips with yours. Your first thought was that you wanted to pull away or push him away, that kissing him would've been horrible. But it wasn't. His lips were nice and soft. He slowly licks your lips, asking for entrance. He wanted to be as convincing as possible to get the guy to leave.
You bring one hand up to his cheek as you open your mouth. He slips his tongue inside your mouth, one of his hands going to the back of your head, having you tilt your head back a bit to deepen the kiss. He tasted of cherries. You faintly hear the guy scoff and what sounded like the door closing. Jisung stepped closer to you, pulling you close to him at the same time as he continued to kiss you.
He gently bites your lower lip and you groan softly. He releases your lip and captures you in a kiss once more, his fingers threading into your hair, a soft moan slips from him into your mouth. You hear someone clear their throat off to the side of you and that's when Jising pulls away, his lips kiss bruised. You imagine yours don't look any better. Jisung wipes his lips on the back of his hand, putting on a disgusted look again. You turn your head and see Minho standing there just in a towel.
"Minho.."
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slimybeth69 · 2 days ago
Text
Girl Dinner
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@pedrospookie made the cutest fucking mood board for this fic, she also gave me so much inspiration for this! Let's all thank her for her perfect brain.
Part 1 of 4- Knocked Loose
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Rating: explicit -
kidnapped!Joel x isolated&unhinged&potentially crazy!reader (no use of y/n, no physical descriptions besides having hair long enough to hold and fall into your face, the reader is actually crazy, talks to herself- hears little voices in her head. You gotta know this going into it)
thanks to @bonezone44 for this idea.
w/c : 9k (whoops)
Summary: After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.
warnings/tags: non-con/dub-con/ altered mental state(?) throughout the entire thing. stockholm syndrome, violence (reader and Joel both get hurt) Joel is an unwilling participant... or is he? cockwarming, unprotected P in V, dirty talk- more to come.
authors note: Hey! I know a lot people get icked out by the idea of non-con or dub con, and that's fine, but I like it, so I'm gonna write this. I don't think any of this should be acted out ITRL. DON'T KIDNAP PEOPLE!! This is your last and final warning just so everyone is aware of what's going on. this is unbeta'd, poorly proofread and probably incoherent. I love you all so, so, so much.
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The weather is finally starting to change, it's not as hot as a pigs asshole anymore, and you wake up feeling refreshed, rather than sticky and sour from sleeping in a pool of your own sweat all night long.
The first thought that comes to your head though isn't the changing weather, or how you'll eventually need to break out your warmer clothes soon, nope— you don't give a shit about any of that.
It's just Mister-man that you're thinking about.
He might be the most pretty thing you've ever seen. With his shoulder length, brown and gray curls, and his patchy facial hair that matches so nicely. The thought of how rough and scratchy it would feel against your tongue makes your spine tingle.
Mister-man is a big boy. Hefty, broad, and looked so strong whenever he came into the mall.
You've been watching him for a while. He comes around every three or four days snooping in all the stores for supplies.
It's like he doesn't even know you're here…or if he does, he doesn't care. Rude! You're a pretty girl!
He's just coming to take our stuff, just like the rest of the monster-men out there. If he finds us, he might wanna take-
"Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!" You put your hands over your ears, even though those voices just get louder when you do that.
Mister-man wouldn't hurt'chya…
Yes, he would. He's a man.
"It's too early for this," You grumble, sitting up in your bed.
The mattress store is nice and clean, just how you left it last night before you crawled into bed. You think about how it would be alarming if it wasn't exactly how you left it before you went to bed. You did your nightly walk-through to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be, and that there weren't any extras hanging about.
As you get dressed, you think about what the dark voice was about to say. You know exactly what Mister-man would try and take from you if he found you. What all the other men in this fucking place want from you.
It's hard to make any of that matter as you skip to your hiding spot in the rafters above the food court. That's where he always enters from, even though the easier entrance with less glass and boards to climb through is on the other side of the mall.
It's a good thing you set up a trap there too, if he comes in through that entrance, at least you'll hear the snare go off and hopefully get to him in time to get his gun and knife.
Mister-man is a creature of habit, he doesn't like to switch things up, Sug. He'll come through this door.
He might. He might not. Mister-man might be playing your game better than you, kid.
"Well then, it's a good thing I thought of everything," you murmur, climbing up the discarded scaffolding to get into the rafters.
It's not scary up here, you like the thrill of knowing if you made one mistake—
Goner!
Splat!
"I've never fallen though!" You giggle, settling in to the perch just above the now blown out glass doors. It's a comfortable little spot, and you've arranged some blankets and pillows from the mattress store up here so you can nap if you want. There are some snacks, and bottles of water in case you have to stay up here for more than just a couple hours, keeping an eye out for Mister-man.
People must have stayed here in the mall during the outbreak, or right after because the doors are boarded up the best they can be, and the tables and chairs from the food court are set up all around like a barricade.
It was perfect, less work for you to have to do, and no one else bothers to come in here anymore— it's either too far, too hard to get too, or not worth the pay out.
Not for our lovely, handsome, soon to be perfect, Mister-man; the reason he comes every week is so sweet.
You wondered why he kept coming back when there really isn't much to scavenge anymore: every single store had been picked through before you got here, and you went and took the last of whatever anyone else didn't want or need and squirreled it away in a nice hiding spot.
Mister-man came every three or four days-- so that he could sit his ass in a comfortable recliner for a couple hours.
Remember that time he took a nap?
"Of course I do! How could I forget?!"
It's the cutest thing, and you love to watch him relax. Rest. Let his guard down for a little while.
"Slept like a lil baby that day," you mumble, feeling the heat spread up your neck and behind your cheeks. It's impossible to not smile at the memory of Mister sleeping in his chair, arms behind his head, snoring loudly.
His hair was real soft...'n he smelled so..
Why does he let us get so close? It's gotta be a trap.
Oh shut up, maybe he wants us to get close!
"I don't think he can hear me too good," you breathe out to the empty mall. The sun is starting to shine directly in your eyes— which means Mister-man will be here soon. "Always lookin' over his left shoulder. He never looks over his right, me thinks he can't hear outta that ear."
Mister has been coming for a couple months. He first started when the snow started to melt. And he kept coming through the spring when everything was wet and soggy, and he'd traipse mud through the mall like this wasn't your house!
That's how you knew he had been there though, so you waited to see if he'd come back-- and he did.
Mister-Man kept coming, even when the summer got so hot it was almost unbearable. Venturing outside was almost dangerous, but Mister always came.
Just to sit in his chair.
The air is filled with the sounds of birds singing, and insects buzzing in the lazy, summer heat. The mornings aren't too bad anymore, but the afternoon is still sweltering.
The late afternoon's are even worse when the heat finally settles, and everything gets sticky, and feeling all wet even though it's not wet outside! It's hot, but the air feels thick and damp somehow.
Awh, looks like he ain't coming today, Sug.
Good-fucking-riddance.
"He'll show up. If not today… tomorrow…or the next day. Or next week! He always comes, sillies. Gettin' me all nervous for nothin—"
Shhhhhh!!!! He's coming.
Mister-man is coming. You can hear him before he even crawls through the hole in one of the boards. He has to slide the table he sets up every time he comes and goes.
Once he's upright, brushing himself clean of any debris that he might have picked up on his crawl into the mall, he starts to walk.
It's not hard to stay quiet, you know exactly where the spots that creak are, and where things might break and fall apart if you were to put too much weight on them.
It's easier to follow him around as he slinks through the abandoned shopping center than you thought, as long as you stay on his right side. You've been watching and learning, and had a long time to figure him out.
Mister is so cute, walking real slow with his back to the wall, his head on a constant swivel. You wanna call out to him and tell him it's just the three of you in the mall.
He continues to sneak very quietly.
Can't hide from us.
"He sure can't," you giggle, almost silently.
Mister-man pauses, and looks over his left shoulder, as if something caught his attention. He looks all around, head twisting in either and all directions. At one point, he looks right up at where you're standing.
It's like he's looking right at you, like he can see you flitting through the rafters right above him.
Mister-man just shakes his head, as if he was hearing things, and continues onward towards the furniture store.
Fuck, he really can't hear for shit.
"He sure can't."
Mister doesn't make it inside the furniture store today, unfortunately for him.
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When Joel wakes up, his head is fucking pounding and— he's upside down. Shit.
Not again.
"What the fuck?" Joel croaks, his hands feel like they weigh a thousand pounds as he tries to lift them from where they're dangling over his head. His shoulders hurt, and his back aches. His ankles feel like they're on fire.
There isn't much he can do but hang here, waiting for his vision to un-blur and for the throbbing in his head to go away.
Probably get gutted like a pig.
Finally, after blinking a million times, Joel can see things clearly.
You- a young woman- with a gun in your hand, another strapped to the outside of your thigh, and a fucking machete strapped across your back.
"What the fuck are you doing!?" Joel shouts, his hands now easily flying to the holster—It's empty. The pack he had been carrying on his back is gone too.
Joel watches as you look at him like he should already know what you're doing: a half smile plastered onto your pretty lips, the crinkle at the corners of your eyes, your head tilted to the side ever so slightly, couching in front of his pack.
"Lookin' through your stuff," you croon to him.
Joel's blood boils. What the fuck are you doing? Who the fuck are you? How did you manage to get him all strung up, hanging from the ceiling?
He says nothing as you stay picking through his backpack, taking out every single thing he has in there. His map, compass, the backup flashlight, the gas-mask— which you're putting on?
Why? There weren't any spores in here— were there?
"This thing is fuckin' cool!" Your voice is muffled, and you stand up straight. Then you hold your hands out at your sides, and spin in a circle.
"Hey!" Joel barks at you, flinching away from the revolving barrel of your pistol with each rotation you make. "Stop swinging that thing around, would ya'!?" Joel shouts as you continue to spin.
You stop suddenly, and stare at him through the big, dark lenses of his gas mask. "You know all about swinging around, don'tchya?" You giggle at him.
Joel literally swings back and forth as you say this, very slowly spinning around as he sways, and the throbbing in his head only makes him more angry.
"Cut me the fuck down, keep what'chya want— I don't got time for all this," Joel grumbles, lifting his head so he can look at the rope tied around his ankles. It's a good knot, and without a knife, Joel isn't going to get down on his own, not without his knife.
He reaches behind him to feel for it on his belt—
"Lookin' for this?" Your still muffled voice questions Joel as his fingers brush across the empty space on his waist where his knife would be.
He tips his head almost all the way back, and then to the side so he can see you— and is greeted by the sight of you, still in the gas mask, and now, holding his knife by the blade with your thumb and index finger. All he can do is sigh, close his eyes and wonder how a trip to sit in his favorite recliner led to this.
"Now, I ain't really wanna hurt'chya— I was hopin' you was gunna say knocked out long enough for me to cut'cya down and—"
Joel doesn't wanna hear anymore. "Just cut me the fuck down— people are gon' come lookin' for me if you—"
You apparently don't wanna hear what Joel has to say anymore either, because you start to talk over him. "—we're just gunna go—"
Joel doesn't care, doesn't want to listen to your muffled voice— he wishes you would take his stupid, fucking gas mask off and talk to him like a normal person. He's gotta be able to barter with you somehow. "—don't let me go. If it's food 'n water ya' want, I can get ya' some—"
The two of you are just talking louder, and louder, until the both of you are shouting over the other, neither one of you actually hearing what the other is saying.
"—let me go!"
"—stay forever!"
The two of you stop and stare at each other in silence for a moment. Joel can't really comprehend what you just said, "Stay forever?"
"Yep!" You exclaim happily.
Did he say that aloud?
"You 'n me, together forever, Mister-man," you sigh dreamily at him.
It's not what you say, it's how you say it— like you really believe what you've just said. Like…it was something you had been thinking about, for a while.
"Huh?" Is all he can say, still slowly swaying and spinning. He has to turn his head almost completely around before he whips it to the other side, he wants to keep his eyes on you at all times. You seem un-fucking-predictable.
"Ain't'chya so excited!?" You squeal, and it makes Joel's head ache.
"Gon' fuckin' strangle you once I get down from here," Joel half grumbles, half chuckles under his breath. He crosses his arms over his chest, watching you rummage around for something in his bag.
"That's why I gotta do this," your muffled voice sounds sad as you pull something out and whip it behind your back, hiding it, and that makes Joel nervous.
"Do what?" Joel tries to see what you pulled out of his backpack.
"Gotta close your eyes," you shrug your shoulders, and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet.
Joel blinks at you, just staring at him through the gas mask. He's not completely unsettled by the sight of you in a gas mask, he's seen women wearing them plenty— it's the fact that you have him completely at your mercy and he can barely see your fucking eyes.
He's so fucking stupid for coming out here alone all the time, Tommy and Ellie both warned him- both told him that something would happen to him out here. He'd hurt his back— or worse. And no one would know where to find him- because this was his secret hideaway. A place to escape the responsibilities of being a dad, a grandpa, and a big brother.
Joel loves Ellie, JJ and Tommy more than he ever thought possible— and loves that he got to be around them everyday— it was just starting to be a lot.
If Joel had the means to move that recliner into his house in Jackson, he would have— but it's too big, too heavy and way too fucking far.
Now look at him, upside down!
"Ya' ain't gunna wanna see it comin'." You give Joel a small warning. "Please just close them," you whine, starting to nervously dance on your tip toes.
"No." Joel growls, arms still crossed over his chest.
"'Kay!" You exclaim, running over to Joel. "Warned ya'!" You pull the brick Joel had put in his pack for emergencies.
"Wait! Wait—"
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Cripes-all-mighty, Mister-Man is heavy as hell!
It takes everything you have inside of you to drag him to the mattress store. By the time you get there, your shirt is soaked through with sweat, your hair clings to your forehead and the side of your face. Every muscle aches and feels as if it's being torn from the bone it's clinging to.
Huffing and puffing, you drag him through the sea of mattresses until you get to the staircase that leads into the basement office.
"Sorry, Mister-Man," you grunt and push him down the stairs—
He's fine! You lined the stairs, and the bottom where he landed with mattresses a couple days ago-- after you brought his favorite recliner down here. All by yourself. Did it just for Mister-Man, because you want him to be comfortable! You want him to feel nice, and relaxed, and safe here with you.
Once you have him nice and secure to his chair— you wait.
He hit his head pretty hard when you snared him— you didn't think of that part. Then he had to go and wake up! Like a dumb idiot! He could have just stayed asleep, then you wouldn't have had to hit him again!
Thank goodness for that brick he keeps in his backpack, which, what the fuck is that about? It's a good weapon, but it's heavy, and made his backpack harder to carry than you would like to admit.
You were also lugging that giant of a man around, ya' did good, Sugar.
Yeah, ya' did good, kid.
You wrap your arms around yourself and sigh, "Thanks."
You wanna tell the voices in your head that you love them, but you don't really always love them. Sometimes you hate them, and wish they would shut up, and sometimes they don't talk when you need them to— finicky fuckers! And they almost never see eye to eye, and it's exhausting. So you just say thanks.
Mister-man is so pretty up close. Even more pretty than you could have ever thought or dreamed of. He doesn't look like he's shaved or cleaned up his beard in the last couple days, and his hair was combed back away from his face when he got here today— but now it's a mess, matted to his forehead in drying blood, falling into his eyes.
"Shit," you whisper, taking in the sight of him all beat up—
Sug, you gotta clean him up— make him pretty again.
The sweet voice is right!
Mister-man looks so sad all bloody and a mess.
"I'll be right back," you murmur and press a gentle kiss to his forehead through his blood stained hair, and then double check all of the ropes around his wrists and ankles. 
He's secure, time to go get him lookin' nice again. 
When you come back, your bag is filled to the brim with supplies from the the multiple stores that still have things inside them. You got him a comb, and a spray bottle that you already filled with clean water. You were able to find some clean clothes that look like they'll fit him. 
He's also awake. 
"Hi, Mist—"
"Let me go." 
"—er-man!" You finish through the interruption. "I'm gunna clean you up now, and then we can have dinner. 'Kay?"
Mister-man stares at you.
"Oh!" You rip the gas mask off and place it on his lap. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to steal it. I promise." You cross your heart with one index finger. 
"Let. Me. Go." 
You wince with each barked word. "I. Don't. Wanna." 
"If I ever get outta here, m'gon' fuckin' kill ya'," he growls. 
You frown, pinch your eyebrows together and mock his thick, country twang. "M'gon' fuckin' clean ya' up real good, 'n then me 'n ya' can have fuckin' dinner." You growl back at him. 
"Shut th'fuck up, untie me—"
"Why!? So you can kill me?" You shake your head at him, giving him a small smirk. "Not gunna happen, Mister." 
His eyes go wider than you've ever seen them, as if he might be nervous. "What th'fuck you gon' do to me then, huh?" 
"Clean. You. Up. Then. Have. Dinner. Did I say it too fast the first time, or can you really not hear too good?" You cock your head to one side, and look at him quizzically.
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"Th'fuck did ya' just ask me?" Joel feels his chest going tight-- this hasn't happened in fucking years. It can't be happening right now.
"I talk real fast sometimes, and I don't realize it, and so sometimes all my words come out real jumbled to--"
"'Bout my hearin'?" Joel's working overtime to suck the air in, to bring precious oxygen to his brain. His head is still pounding, and now he can't fucking breathe, and he can't even imagine what kind of sick, twisted shit you're going to do to him.
Joel watches your eyes drop to the ground by his feet, and it's almost like you pull your body in on itself somehow, retreating into a place where you're trying to hide from him in plain sight. "I been watchin' you when you come in here... just act like you can't hear all that good outta your right ear," you say in a voice so small Joel can barely hear it.
"Watchin' me?" Joel scoffs.
Who the fuck are you? How long have you been watching him? How come he's never seen you before? Never even seen a trace of another person around here, just the stray raccoon or possum.
Joel's blood boils when you nod your head at him, still unable to look him in the eye. "Ya' should be ashamed. Whatever it is ya' wanna do to me is probably fucked--"
"I'm not ashamed," your voice snaps, and finally you lift your head to meet Joel's gaze. "Not even a little."
"Actin' like it," Joel's voice is snappier, and louder, and it makes you flinch.
"Maybe a little embarrassed--"
"Ashamed, fuckin' embarrassed, same fuckin' thing." Joel rolls his eyes at you.
"Not really," you shake your head from side to side and raise both of your eyebrows at him. "Not at all, actually."
"Would you shut th'fuck up?!"
"Would you shut th'fuck up..." You mock Joel. "I'm tryin' to do somethin' nice for you, and you keep telling me to shut the fuck up!"
"Do somethin' nice f'me?!" If this wasn't almost thirty years after the fucking apocalypse happened, Joel would think he was on some hidden camera show.
"Yeah!" You hold out the supplies you had brought back from wherever the fuck you had run off too while Joel was unconscious.
"Doin' somethin' nice would be lettin' me go, sweetheart." Joel switches his tone- does something he wouldn't normally do in a situation like this.
Your eyes light up. They crinkle in the corners a little, like they did the first time he saw you, but you're not upside down this time. The corners of your lips are trying to curl up, but you're actively trying to stop them.
"Don't call me that, 'less you mean it."
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With the comb, water bottle and first-aid kit in hand, you take your place behind him and inspect the wound. 
It's a surface wound, but dirty from the brick and still very bloody. 
It's a painstaking process, because you don't want to be the cause of his pain anymore. Not ever again if you can help it.
Really, that's up to Mister, but he'll find out on his own soon enough! He just has to play nice, be sweet and kind— be the Mister you want him to be, and he'll be perfectly happy here with you. Life here with you in the mall could be perfect! He just needs to be perfect. He's almost there, he just has to keep his mouth shut. 
He's not quiet, not at all. He hoots and hollers at you to stop, to let him go, that he's gonna gut you like a fish if he ever gets free from here.
The way he talks, his voice feels like the deepest note on a piano, or the thickest string being plucked on a guitar. It vibrates in the spaces between your ribs, and forces all the air out of your lungs when he talks.
He's taking your breath away... how romantic.
The sweet and airy voice in your head is right, he is taking your breath away. You wish he would stop saying those mean and terrible things to you-- they're making you hurt inside, where your stomach is.
Guilt. You should just kill him right now--
"Hurt him?"
Mister stops shouting, and raises one eyebrow at you.
Look'it those big brown eyes. Like a baby cow. All wet 'n big, kinda scared lookin'.
Ugh, shoot him right between those beautiful brown eyes, kid. You can do it.
He ain't hurt you yet, Sug...
Because she tied him up--
As she should, she's gotta feel him out a little, make sure he's really not gonna hurt her.
How is he ever going to hurt her if he's tied up?
"Okay, enough!" You almost shout-- there they go! Never seeing eye to eye, making things harder than they needed to be!
"I'll yell all I fuckin' want," Joel does holler, loudly. So loud. He's going to draw attention.
"Do I need to get the brick again?"
Joel stops shouting.
He really can't hold back the pained sounds coming from his throat as you attend to his wound.
You're being so, so gentle!
He's acting like a giant baby.
"M'hurtin' you?" You mumble as you drag the damp cloth along his forehead carefully, cleaning the moderately large gash you left there with the brick. It's swollen, and bruised now... you feel so terrible.
He'll forgive you, Sugar.
Mister-man doesn't say anything, he just flinches away from your touch for the millionth time.
"M'sorry, didn't mean t'hurt you this bad." You slowly start to work the comb through his hair, spraying it down with water when you needed to. You're careful to never pull on his hair too hard, and work the tangles out meticulously so you don't bring him any more discomfort.
"Got'chu some medicine." You reach into your pocket and pull out two white pills.
"I ain't takin' nothin' y'give me, fuckin' crazy bitch." He grumbles.
Mister watches you walk around to the front of him, and kneel between his legs.
"S'just regular," you hold your hand up to his face so he can inspect the pill on his own. "Nothin' strong like they had in the QZ's," it's a gentle explanation as he studies the medicine in your palm. "Can find some for ya' if you wanted me to, m'real good at findin' stuff."
"Find it in your heart t'let me outta here," Joel gives you the sweetest, crookedest smile that makes you stomach feel like it grows ten sizes, and your heart feels like it's racing something else inside of you.
There are sweet wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, and the lines on his forehead deepen, and he has the softest dimple on his left cheek.
Sug, he's so pretty.
Kill. Him. Before. He. Kills. You.
"So pretty," you catch your bottom lip between your teeth, and rest one of your elbows on his knee, propping your head up on the heel of your hand. The pills are still right in front of Joel's face, and his eyes flash between them, and your face.
"Not takin' them" he grumbles, twisting his head away from your hand.
"Suit yourself," you put the pills back into your pocket, dipping your head down to press a soft kiss to his knee. "M'gunna go get us dinner, I'll be back."
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Joel stares at the tray of food you set down on the table you dragged over to be directly in front of him.
"Where's the protein?" Joel looks up at you from the plate of crackers with peanut butter, a small bowl of raspberries, two packets of expired pretzels you would get on an airplane, and a full bottle of labelless whiskey.
"S'in the peanut butter," you say through a mouthful of your own cracker.
Begrudgingly, Joel opens his mouth when you hold a cracker up to his lips. "Where's the meat?"
The crackers are dry, and kind of stale somehow? The peanut butter is still nice and creamy, just the way Joel remembered it before the outbreak.
"Where would I find meat?"
Joel pinches his brows together and blinks at you. "Ya' live in the woods, got a gun or two-- fuckin' know how to set a snare--"
You gasp softly, and rest one elbow on the table and point at him with a lazy index finger, "You 'spect me to go out there and kill an innocent lil friend? They ain't ever done nothin' t'me. Why would I go out 'n hurt 'em when I ain't got no reason to?"
Joel continues to blink, trying so hard to keep his eyes on you and not the ropes you have him tied down with so tightly they're starting to dig into the skin on his forearms-- painfully.
"Ya' kiddin', right?" He watches as you place a raspberry directly into the peanut butter on the cracker and hold it out for him.
"Issa good combo, try it." You nod your head at him, urging him to open his mouth.
Joel doesn't want to, doesn't want to give you the satisfaction of knowing he needs you, and is going to keep needing you until you decide to kill him, or set him free.
He opens his mouth though, because Joel hasn't had a raspberry in years and he loves them, and the sight of that plump, juicy berry sitting so comfortably in that pillow of delicious, creamy peanut butter is making his stomach rumble. Loudly.
"Want some?" You hold up the bottle of whiskey, screw off the cap and take a swig. "See, it's safe," you look at him through your lashes, and give him a one-corner-of-your-mouth-smile.
Joel nods his head, because what else was there to do if he was going to be a prisoner here? He tried so hard to free himself of the restraints while you were gone, but you know how to tie a knot, and Joel just ended up giving himself rope burn.
An hour later, Joel feels pretty good, but not good enough to forget the situation he's in, but the booze is making you very chatty, and he might actually be enjoying the conversation.
"'N I get power from the solar things up on the roof, I think."
"Ya' think?" Joel smirks at you, he can't help it.
"I dunno how the solar works," you exclaim, holding one hand towards the ceiling. "It's the sun and black screens," you give the ceiling the middle finger and groan. "Barely works when the sun is out-- I just wanna watch my movies--"
"What kinda movies ya' got?"
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He wishes he never asked.
You're sitting between his legs on the floor-- reaching behind you to feed him raspberries, never taking your eyes off the screen.
Joel thing's about biting your fingers off, thinks about taking the tips right off with his front teeth.
What would you do if he did that? Joel is still tied up, and he would just have raspberries and bloodied fingertips in his mouth, and then possibly a crazy, unpredictable, angry woman who would try and kill him.
Joel has seen angry people every day for close to thirty years... he knows what they look like, what they sound and act like--- you don't sound or act angry.
"Love this part," you sigh, leaning back into him, and resting your head on his knee.
Joel looks up to the screen, watching Cinderella transform into her beautiful ball gown.
Joel wishes he could reach out and run his fingers through your hair.
No he fucking doesn't? What the actual fuck? What did you put in the food, or the whiskey to make him feel this way?
Joel clenches his hands to fists on the arms of the recliner, and tenses his jaw-- grinding his teeth in the process.
You continue to drink throughout the movie, and when the credits are rolling-- you stumble to your feet, and then into his lap.
"Get off'a me," Joel gripes as you nuzzle your nose against the side of his face.
"Just wanna cuddle," you murmur, curling yourself up into his chest, yawning sleepily. "F'just a lil bit."
"Get off'a me, ya' fuckin' nut!" Joel shouts, and regretfully, tries to headbutt you.
His cheekbone, the side of his nose and part of his forehead connect with the top of your skull in a dull, aching thud.
You scramble off his lap, and fall to the floor, one hand holding the top of your head where Joel had just whacked you. The right side of his face is throbbing, and he thinks his nose might be bleeding, or he's crying- he doesn't know- he doesn't care. He just wants to go home.
"What the fuck!?" You shout back at him. "Mister, I ain't been mean to you at all, minus the brick- okay? What the hell is your problem!?"
Joel can't help but laugh, it starts off as a chuckle, but quickly matures into full on guffawing. "Y'fuckin' insane, ya' know that?" Joel rumbles through his fit.
Through the tears in his eyes, Joel can see you glaring at him.
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Okay, he hurt her, can she kill him now?
Sugar, he ain't mean it... not really... he just needs some time to adjust.
He could have really hurt her, are you serious?
He's just nervous! Give the man a break--
Tired of giving men breaks- tired of letting them get away-
"Both of you, knock it off." It's a stern warning to the voice as you glare at Mister.
He stops laughing and blinks at you. "Huh?" He cocks one eyebrow up high, "Both o' ya?"
His question doesn't register, all you can think about is how disappointed you are in him.
"I was gunna let'chya sleep in the big bed with me," you huff, climbing to your feet. "Ain't gonna do that no more."
"I ain't wanna sleep in the big bed with y'crazy fuckin' ass, anyway!" He screams at you.
"What're ya' bein' so fuckin' mean for? I cleaned ya' up, made ya' pretty again-- fed you dinner 'n shared my drink with you!"
Do not cry! What're you doing!? Don't let him see you cry! Get out of here, right now!
The dark voice is right, the burn in your nose and the sting in your eyes are tell tale signs of tears- and you hate them. Hate the way they make your face wet and sticky, hate how they make your heart hurt, hate how your head feels like it's ten pounds heavier when you get done crying.
He'll come around, Sug. Gotta give him some time. If ya' stay nice-- it'll happen sooner than you think.
"I like bein' nice," you murmur, not taking your eyes off Mister.
"Th'fuck are you talkin' about!?" He exclaims, eyes wide, almost obsidian with rage and confusion.
"G'night, Mister. We'll try again t'morow."
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Mister doesn't rest, doesn't relax, doesn't settle down at all.
When you open the door to his room, he's still screaming his head off.
"Hey!" You shout back at him, grabbing his attention. "We got raiders 'round here. We got infected movin' in and outta here all the time-- you know how fuckin' loud you are?"
"Hopefully they all hear 'n come runnin'. I'd love to see you get torn to shred-"
"'Kay, m'real sorry ya' feel that way. Even sorrier that I gotta do this."
Mister doesn't stop fighting you the entire time you shove the bandanna into his mouth. He even bites down on your index and middle finger as you stuff the last corner of fabric between his teeth.
Hit him.
It happens so fast, you don't have time to stop yourself from the back of your hand connecting with his cheek.
"Now, you gunna play that game? I can play, too," you inspect your finger and the deep indentation he left that's already starting to bruise.
The duct tape is hard to rip, and you need to use your teeth to cut a strip to go over his mouth.
Mister is mumbling something around the bandanna, but you can't understand him, and honestly are still mad about your fingers-- they hurt! Really bad!
"Glad I still got that medicine... I'm gunna fuckin' need it!" You dig around in your pockets and look for the two white pills. Your fingers throb while you look, the sensitive skin; tender to the touch as it brushes against the fabric inside your pockets.
Mister glares at you with his almost black eyes.
"I'm sorry!" You find the pills, throw them into your mouth and swallow dry. "I'm sorry for hurtin' you. I do not like doin' it, I mean it." You take a couple steps towards him, and drop to your knees between his legs again.
Mister watches, his whole body still as you rest your head on his knee again.
"Just want ya' 'round. M'sorry," you close your eyes, not wanting him to see them fill with those traitorous tears. "Jus' real lonely out here. Miss havin' someone t'talk with...'n snuggle up to at night."
The fuckin' duct tape makes it impossible for Mister to say anything--which is the worst. You wanted someone to talk with, not at.
"I'll take the tape off in the mornin', and we can try again over breakfast, 'kay?"
Mister doesn't make a single sound for the rest of the night.
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Joel is drunk again. Fuck, this is never good.
You're in his lap, knees on either side of his thighs with one arm around his neck, your head resting on his shoulder. There is something about the way your fingers twirl around in his hair at the nape of his neck that feels good. Too good.
"C'mon, get off'a me," Joel groans, but there's no passion in his voice. It's been almost three weeks of just this, and he doesn't hate it. Not when he's drunk.
Honestly, he barely dislikes it when he's sober, but he's better at acting like he doesn't want you on his lap when he hasn't had a drink that night.
How can he not like it just a little bit? You're soft, and warm, and fit so perfectly on his lap it's like you were made to be there.
"Couple more minutes, Mister. Please?" You fucking whimper,
The sound floating through Joel's ear canal sends a shiver down his spine, and directly into his cock. It twitches in his jeans. He's got to start thinking about baseball, and carpentry work, and how he's probably going to die soon.
Nothing works. Joel can feel the heat from your cunt through the thin fabric of your shorts, and his hands have been tied down to this chair every time you're not around. The only time you let him up is to use the bathroom-- and you have a gun while you wait for him the entire time, so he's never horny then!
And, as thankful as Joel is for this- you've never even looked at him like that. You look at him like you're in love with him all the time, but you've never once looked at him like you wanna touch him.
Joel tries to push his hips further into the chair, away from the perfect, searing heat of your middle.
"Where'ya goin?" Your voice purrs in his ear, your fingernails ghost across the skin on his neck and he shivers again, his cock feels it tenfold.
You feel it now, too.
"What're ya'--" you pause to look between your bodies, and then your eyes flash up to his. "That f'me?" You're whispering, and your glassy eyes are wide, and look so flattered.
"Ain't for nobody, stop lookin' at 'em," Joel grumbles, again, not really meaning any of it even though he should mean every single word.
"'Em?" you question him with your big, wet eyes and his cock twitches again.
Joel swallows hard, his eyes falling to your bottom lip clutched between your teeth, and nods. "Him, yeah, whatever you wanna call it-- ain't for you." He sighs softly.
"Why not?" you sink down further into his lap. The thin shorts you have on to wear to bed do nothing to keep your warmth contained. It's almost like Joel can feel what it would be like if you just whipped him out and sat-
He's never drinking with you again. Never again.
"Get off'a me," Joel leans forward gently as you lean into him, the tips of your noses touch softly.
"Gunna bite me if I kiss ya'?"
Joel is a goner, your breath smells sweet like raspberries and whiskey and every single thing about you is warm and soft-- Joel knows that if he wasn't fucking drunk he'd be fighting you tooth and nail, but he cannot right now.
He can't think about anything but what you'd feel like wrapped around him, milking him.
"Take'em out," Joel is the one to lean into the kiss, his lips aren't hesitant, or tentative at all when they meet yours. He is going to try and bite you- and he does, he nips at your bottom lip, but gently. He pulls back with it still bitten, and listens to you moan softly.
The quickness of your fingers isn't your friend, you struggle with his belt for what feels like an eternity as you push back against his kiss, eagerly slipping your tongue into Joel's waiting mouth.
Joel groans low in his throat when you wrap your hands around his girth, and then chuckles at your shocked gasp when you pull away to get a good look at him.
"He ain't gon' bite'chya," Joel teases, leaning forward, searching for your lips again.
"Might split me in half," you moan, presumably at the thought of Joel stretching you open.
Joel can't contain his own moan as you put the image in his head. "Fuuck, sit on him-- lemme feel ya'."
The sound that leaves you makes Joel throb in your hand, "Ya' want me t'put 'em inside?" You whisper, the silky smoothness of your hands on him, stroking him so slowly is making his head spin.
"Jeeesus, yes-- fuckin' c'mon- do it," Joel lets his head fall back against the recliner, and watches as you pull your shorts to the side, and lift yourself to hover over him. "C'mon..." Joel eggs you on in a whisper. "Y'can do it, crazy girl."
"Don't call--" you pause when you notch the head of him at your entrance. "--me crazy."
Joel groans loudly as you sink down and let every wet, soft part of you engulf him. He throbs again when you whimper and whine, eyes clenched shut, your hands grasping at his shoulders as you inch your way down his length.
"Ow, ow, ow," you whine, leaning forward to rest your head on Joel's.
He could headbutt the shit out of you right now, but fuck, the way you're looking at him, with real tears in your eyes, not just from drinking.
"Hey, ya' doin' real good, sweetheart, keep goin'-- nice 'n slow," Joel encourages you, because he doesn't want it to stop either. "Jus' like that, crazy girl."
God damn, is crazy pussy always this good? He wouldn't fucking know, he wouldn't ever get involved with you if he knew you back in Jackson- but out here, after almost three weeks with you... it's hard to deny the physical needs of a man. And you're so fucking soft and wet.
The two of you groan in unison when you fully seated. The velvet walls of your pussy are fluttering, and clenching around him as you adjust to his length.
"You're so big," you hum, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "Didn't think ya'd wanna do this," you whisper into his mouth. "Wasn't gon' take it from ya-- don't like that."
"Take what'chya need from me, whenever ya want it, shit," Joel tries to buck his hips up into yours to give you what you want but you whine in protest.
"Still hurts."
Joel settles his hips and leans into the best he can being tied down, his fingers grip the armrests of the chair tightly, groping it like he would be groping you if he could.
"Untie me," he murmurs while grinding up against you, not pulling out of you at all, just letting you feel him, letting you open up around him so it'll start to feel good.
"No," you nip at his bottom lip now, but you suck it into your mouth and tease him with your tongue as your walls start to rhythmically clench around him.
"Fuck, ya' doin' that on -ur-ose?" Joel groans with his bottom lip still being lapped at, The feeling of your tight, wet sucking him in deeper somehow- like it's fucking bottomless almost makes him come right then.
You pull back, his lip slips from between your with a wet pop "Mhm, ya' like it?" You clench harder around him and then release, and then do that over, and over again.
"Fuckin' untie me, wanna touch you- gotta feel how soft ya' are all over, c'mon," he's begging, he needs to feel the swell of your ass in his palm, or one of your tits spilling between his fingers as he grips you.
"No, you'll just try 'n leave me-"
"No, no, no-- I'll stay 'n... uh.. I'll... um- uh--oh, I'll play nice wit'chya" Joel racks his brain with anything that he could say that would possibly give him a chance at being able to really touch you.
"Lyin' t'me," you moan, and Joel throbs inside of you.
"Not lyin'-"
You pull back from his face at an alarming rate, and you scan his face slowly, as if you were drinking in every feature, savoring the flavor-- Joel watches you swallow hard and imagines that it's his load you just took down--
"Untie me, let me touch ya' a lil bit," Joel whispers, keeping his eyes locked on to yours. "Make ya' feel real good, promise." Joel licks his lips as he watches you struggle internally with the decision. "C'mon... gotta feel how soft ya' are, crazy girl. Just one hand."
"Fine."
You stay seated in his lap, his cock still throbbing inside of you as you work on the knot that will free his right hand. He's trembling in the anticipation of it all.
As soon as the pressure is gone off his wrist, Joel reels his arm back as far as he can, and sends it flying forward with as much force as he can muster after not eating meat for almost an entire month.
You scream as his fist connects with your right eye, and go flying to the floor.
Joel might be completely sober right now, and he knows he needs to move fast before you get up and probably shoot him for lying to you, and then punching you.
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Yep. Shoot him. Shoot him right between his perfect, brow, baby-cow eyes. End it.
The dark voice in your head is right, but it's almost impossible to think about anything else but the pain shooting into your brain from your right eye socket.
"You motherfucker," you sob. The pain is electrifying- and you can't even see out of your right eye anymore!
That was your least favorite eye!
Kill. Him.
When you sit up, Joel is working on the knot around his left wrist.
You stumble to your feet, holding your hand over your eye trying to keep the actual ball in, in case it falls out, and walk over to the table with his book bag on it. You rummage around until your fingers wrap around the item you're looking for.
When Joel sees what you're carrying, not even attempting to hide it behind your back, he quickens his efforts on the knot.
Your left hand isn't your dominant one, but your right is busy keeping your eyeball in your head because it most surely got knocked loose or something.
You have to whack Joel twice before he goes unconcious.
"S'what ya' get for almost takin' my eye out!"
While he's still asleep, you take this opportunity to cut the jeans he's wearing off of him. You carefully unbutton the green and red flannel he was wearing and slip that off of him fully intact.
Once he's fully secure, with a new restraint around his chest to keep him fully pinned down to the chair, and the bandanna and tape back around his mouth-- you shut all the lights off, every single one, and leave him down there to think about what he did.
He's gonna learn to play nice, and if he wants to play rough first... so can you.
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The air is thick with tension and stench of his sweat and fear.
The big-guy should be kind of scared- you didn't want it to come to this, but he just cannot participate nicely!
You circle your Mister-man slowly, drinking in every detail of him. His broad chest heaves with ragged breaths, muscles taut and straining as he fights against the restraints for the thousandth time.
No matter how hard he struggles, he cannot break free. Oh boy. Mister-man has some big feelings about it, and he's trying to let you know.
He is struggling— like, so fucking hard, against his bonds that tether him to the chair, that are cutting deep into the skin on his wrists. It's unfortunate, but he keeps wriggling around! If he just stopped, it'd all be fine!
You lean in close, pointing to your right eye, which is still black and blue, but thankfully not as swollen anymore, and frown at him. "This hurt!" You exclaim. "It hurt so bad, and you said you were gunna play nice. Why'd ya' lie t'me?"
His eyes are blown wide with fury and desperation. But he cannot respond, not really, his voice is saying things, but it's muffled by the duct tape stretched tight across his mouth.
He's still clad in only boxer shorts, a thin gray t-shirt, and socks, he looks vulnerable and exposed.
It really shouldn't be so hot-- but it is. You can't stop thinking about what he said the other night.
"Take what'cya want from me, sweetheart. Whenever you want it."
You wonder if he really meant that, because he punched you in the face right after.
But... he got excited! He wanted it, Mister-man kissed you first.
Oh Sug, he's down bad.
Please kill him. Shoot him right now, then you can just move to a different part of the mall. It's very simple.
He's really mad; which makes no sense! He punched you right in the eye! What is he mad for!?
"I thought after three weeks you'd be begging me to take you upstairs, Mister," you purr seductively, taking a step behind him, out of his line of sight. "Instead you hit me!?" You give Joel a good thwack against the side of his head with your open hand.
Not enough to really hurt him— that's coming soon— but enough to let him know to cut the shit. It's getting old, and now you want a fun, willing participant to play with you… and not someone who is going to act like they don't like… all this.
The perfect basement office of an old mattress store in an abandoned mall about a two hour hike outside of what used to be Jackson, Wyoming?
There's no spores, there's no mildew or stink! It's clean, you make sure to keep everything so clean for him.
Despite his insessant pestering about meat for some reason, he's well fed! He gets to drink whenever he wants!
Why is he so upset!?
Joel grumbles something from behind the duct tape and it's honestly lost of deaf ears because you don't care for what he has to say right now, it's never nice or sweet. It's always mean— that's why he's got the duct tape on.
Soon.
Soon the big-dumb-idiot will be singing your name, happily, and without restraints.
He's just gotta wear something else first.
You slip the shock collar around his thick neck while you're still behind him.
He doesn't like it, at all. He thrashes and writhes, and makes a desperate, pleading groan from behind deep in his throat.
"Well, you wanna act like all them other dogs out there, you're gon' get treated like one," you press a kiss to the top of his skull, and pull back before he can rear his head forward and smash it against your nose.
He's going to try-- he always does.
Slowly, you wind your way around him, trailing a finger along his sweat-slick forehead and crawl into his lap. He struggles at first, until he sees the remote in your hand.
"Gonna zap all the bad outta you… make you perfect for me." You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Have an idea...for how you can hug me-- and not hit me."
Joel mumbles something else, muffled through the duct tape. It doesn't really matter what he's saying, all that matters is how warm he is. How he makes you feel so safe and comfortable.
It's easy now, with the threat of being zapped, to rest your forehead against his, and nuzzle the tips of your noses together.
"You gunna be good for me, Mister-man?" It's a purr as you press a kiss to the duct tape covering his mouth. "Or am I gunna have to train you how to be good?"
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omg this might be the longest tag list i've ever done let me know if you want me to take you off, add you, if I forgot you-- I'm SORRY!!!
TAG LIST: @pedrospookie @gothcsz @joelmillerisapunk @sp00kymulderr @paleidiot @goodvampykitten @rosebuds-and-moonlight @diabaroxa @zhazy-blog2 @almostempty @xdaddysprincessxx @tobethlehem @lilac-boo @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @rav3n-pascal22
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0rczy · 3 days ago
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I really like analyzing Varigo, one thing I've noticed recently is how different their approach to romance (and human connections in general) really is, but also how they're pretty much the perfect foils in this regard.
Varian grew up sheltered away in their mansion. He didn't have much clue about socializing, so when Rapunzel came to him, he gives all of them proper respect (calling Rapunzel "Princess", Eugene "Flynn Rider", as in the full name). You could assume it's because of his dad; later when the two confronted each other, Varian called him "Sir". Probably because Quiring taught him to be respectful of others, and they both clearly take this social rule rather seriously.
So then Cassandra comes in and saves Varian, for apparently no selfish reasons. She likely just didn't want to have a child get crushed when she could've prevented it, but to Varian, this changes his view on people. Cassandra isn't just a distant figure to respect; instead, someone he could have a connection with. And this is where one of Varian's most essential traits come to light: when comfortable, he treats situations like an experiment. He immediately starts calling her by a nickname, "Cassie", to see how she would react. At the day of the expo, he keeps trying out different tactics, trying to essentially just get close to Cassandra. One could Interpret this romantically, but I personally like to think he just really wanted a friend. A lonely kid, seeing someone cool show any kind of affection for him immediately made him go "there could be something here! I need to find out!", and so he does. In his own, nerdy way.
Hugo, on the other hand. He, unlike Varian, grew up having to socialize all the time. Having to talk his way out of situations constantly, he learned to put up walls so that the most desirable results come out, benefiting him and his missions. When he weasels his way into the Team, he also calls them nicknames. In his case, it stems from a need to distance himself from people, so that he doesn't get attached. One slight exception though is Varian, as Hugo seemingly not only uses nicknames on him to keep up built-up walls, but to get a reaction out of him. This is very similar to how Varian approached Cassandra when he was younger. He's interested in Varian from early on, and he handles this in his good old Hugo fashion, because he finds Varian entertaining. Varian at first doesn't trust Hugo, but when he proves himself trustworthy, he gives in. He's willing to reach out, making Hugo more than a means to an end. Eventually, the two become friends! Then more than friends!
And then, their approaches change.
I'd like to think that it was Hugo, who fell first. Or at the very least, he's the first to realize it, and he HATES THIS. His flight or flight is activated, and he really wants to flee. He's the type to ignore his feelings, try to bury them. That's all he knows how to do, really. Especially because for what could be the first time in his life, he's actually falling for someone who is his friend. Someone who means a lot to him! He wouldn't want to ruin things, especially because he knows that betraying Variant will break the guy's heart, once he finds out. Therefore, the less pain, the better.
Varian is the exact opposite of this. It takes him a long time to figure out what he feels, and that it could be romantic (he didn't exactly have the history with romance before. The "puppy crush" on Cassandra could have easily been more of an obsession with the possibility of someone showing affection towards him). But once he realizes that there's a chance that the two could be a thing? He doesn't have to think hard about what his next step should be: he likes Hugo, and he's a scientist. Trial and error is practically in his blood at this point, so if there's even a small possibility of them getting together? That Hugo likes him back? Varian will do anything to find out how probable his theory is. And so, once again, he treats the situation like an experiment. Wasting no time, he tries to confess or bring up the idea as quickly as possible. And Hugo FREAKS OUT. He's not ready!
Varian's other big trait is his stubbornness. He's not satisfied with an uncertain answer. He wants to know Hugo's view on them, as clearly as possible. So he keeps poking around, trying to find an approach that brings out different reactions, different answers as to why Hugo would be scared of them being together. Again. Really similar to how he treated Cassandra at the expo back then. This is the only way he knows how, though. And he needs clear answers.
He gets one at the last trial. Boom. Heartbreak. This isn't about angst though, so I'll end it here.
I find them so interesting. How their upbringing influenced their view and approach to people, to friendship, to romance. To each other. They are both scientists, but one is more afraid of the results than the other.
So it all boils down to the importance of clear communication: another big theme in Vat7k, what with Ulla and Donella setting an example as what not to do.
I could ramble about these characters for ages, but yeah. This is my view on them, I loooove reading different Interpretations in fan fiction though!
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