#and when they showed his funky ass

[cyarsk5230]

Megan Pete deserves the world and so much good in her life. I been rockin with her from point blank and I'mma keep standing by her. Everlasting good vibes to Megan 💜💜💜🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾💜💜💜💜

Seeing the discourse after Megan’s documentary reminds me of two things black women have to be damn near the “perfect victim” to get a slither of empathy and black women are literally expected to be used and abused and do nothing thing about it. It’s absolutely disgusting.

[beepbeepthebeep]

i saw Tommy The Musical

why is no one talking about this.

[timmydraker]

Tim who does crochet.

It’s Dick who is given the first gift, long before Tim is Robin and even before he knows who Robin is.

It was simply because he was a kind kid who had been there to witness something horrible and wanted to comfort the poor boy he saw sobbing off two lost loved ones.

Little Tim walked up to Dick with the crochet elephant that was admittedly a little funky looking and held it up to him without making eye contact. He had hidden the small plushie from his parents lest they disapprove of his hobby, just like they did with drawing and skating.

Dick had beamed happily and held onto the toy, saying it was so cute and how Tim should be so happy to have it.

Tim had frowned and shook his head, “It’s for you, Mister Grayson. It’s Tifa.”

Never had Tim seen someone so in awe of his creation as he did in that moment and it made him beam just like Dick had been.

Once Dick took the little elephant into his hands Tim had bolted away.

Bruce was next, being gifted a big fluffy jumper on his first birthday after loosing Jason. It was a soft, light green with too long sleeves that went over his ass. It was big, far too big, and thick enough that it might even be too hot in autumn.

He didn’t wear it for a while, mainly because he ignored the big wrapped present Tim had left in his room out of guilt and shame and even a little frustration.

When he opened it up he put it on and promptly broke down, finding the feeling more similar to a hug than he thought something non-hug could get.

He wore it in front of Tim once to show he appreciated it and then wore it whenever he was injured.

Steph got a few things, mainly tops and one big blanket that he gave her after they reconnected when she came back. It had been his way of saying he forgave her and wanted to be her friend again without using words.

Cass got a big poncho with a hood that was rainbow, bright and loud while still capable of hiding her when she felt she couldn’t be seen.

It took a long time for him to make Jason anything after he came back. When he did, him and Tim avoided each other for over a year until Tim overheard Alfred talking to Bruce about how sad it was to not see his two bright boys getting along.

Alfred had been pouring tea with the pot he made a kettle warmer snug with Lilly of the Vally on it when he said it.

So, Tim had searched through his old photos of Jason’s Robin and made himself recall those old ideals and awe. He made himself remember what Jason also had ripped from him and, while it wouldn’t change or excuse how Jason had brutalised him, it made him understand him more.

He decided that instead of joining to Jason and having a heart to heart, that he should do what all bats did and start off without saying a thing.

He makes Jason a blanket that took him over a month of a floral book cover of Jane Ire.

Tim was relived when it was done and simply left it laid out on Jason’s bed in his latest hideout with a note that said,

“I know little about Jane Ire, maybe you could tell me about it sometime?

~ Tim. D.”

Jason had sent him a text a day later to say he could send him a copy with his annotations if he wanted.

It wasn’t long after Tim had read the book, taking twice as long with all the notes Jason had left in it, that he was then left to make something for Damian.

Naturally, he didn’t want to at first.

Also naturally, he got bored and wanted to make another animal after seeing Tifa again. She was cute, but a little munted with age.

He took one look at Titus and promptly made a plan to create him with crochet. He wanted to give it to Bruce after he was done, but he’s only an asshole when he finds it entertaining.

At heart, he’s a kind boy, so he gives it to Damian.

When he gets an actual, verbal thank you from the new Robin, he makes Alfred the Cat and Ace, then finally Bat-cow and Goliath.

The best thing he’s made, according to Duke, is Signals first ever fan made merch that he wears nearly all the time.

Kate says that wrong because the leg warmers he made for winter patrols have apparently saved her life.

Salina would say it’s actually the cat pawed mittens he made her when he was twelve and never told Bruce about.

[elsecrytt]

satoru gojo knows he's not wanted. only needed - a weapon for killing curses and curse users, day in and day out, the lynchpin of jujutsu society.

he's fine with that, most of the time. the truth is, when suguru left, he thought that was the end for him. he was never very good at friendship in the first place, at making people like him.

he has a difficult personality, and he doesn't want to change. people willing to deal with him as he was were few and far between, and they never had that immediate connection like he did with suguru.

even if it left him unbearably lonely. it's just not in his nature to mince words, to hold back, to play nice. if he couldn't be satoru gojo, then what else did he have left?

and it's fine, most of the time.

but some of the time, it's not. it's really, really not. sometimes, it's worth it to try, just the tiniest bit, not to be a complete ass and drive away a pretty face who seems unbothered by his attitude.

that's how he ends up with you - a non-sorcerer. he hasn't told you about sorcery in general and doesn't want you to know.

to him, your shared penthouse is his safe space. he never walks or drives there, only ever teleports so that no one can trace him there. no one, not even at the school, knows that he primarily lives there.

he spends every spare hour (sometimes even just ten minute) he can there. finishing missions early, darting off after lessons, eating there whenever he can.

satoru only sleeps whenever you sleep. he never showers alone, never does his nighttime routine on his own.

that's all precious time he could be spending at your side.

washing your hair, your face, cleaning up alongside you. laughing and splashing and making a little more of a mess if he can get away with it.

here, there are no curses, no former friends turned traitor, no one who needs his help.

you smile as soon as you see him, hear him, run up to hug him if your hands are free.

he's on the lock screen of your phone. once or twice he's caught you just staring at it, delight painted all over your lips.

all you want from him is his company -

and god, is he ever aware, you're the only one alive who does.

most of his coworkers dislike him to various degrees. even his students have mixed feelings about him sometimes.

he does his best, he really does, but he can't bring himself to get attached to someone who might one day leave.

you won't, though (you can't), so he's free to love you all he wants.

he'll freely confess - he's overcompensating. pouring all the missed opportunities to bond, all the awkward moments where his attitude turned other people away, into the dam that is your relationship.

you don't mind his funky schedule (too much), you're a huge homebody who likes having date nights at home.

you smooth off all the rough edges of his personality - the arrogance, the smarmy comments - with a laugh and a taunt, a hand in his hair that he can't help but lean into like the domesticated pet he is.

god, he loves you. he loves you so, so much, unreasonably so - loves coming home to a "satoru! welcome back~", loves bringing home meals from different places and watching you try them with delight (you joke that his mysterious job must be as a delivery man, which he laughs at more than he should), loves coming home to your unnecessary attempts at cooking every now and then, something indescribable curling in his chest.

he loves sitting and talking with you about the latest show you're watching, telling you about his "coworkers" and "juniors" (sometimes he has to stop himself from giggling about it) and how annoying his latest day at work was.

sometimes it's sort of vague and vapid but it's fun when it's with you. sometimes it's deeper stuff, real stuff ("my oldest friend passed away recently" "one of my juniors at work has a complicated family situation") and you seem to always know just what to say. talking to you always makes him feel better.

he worries, sometimes, that he's not as good to you as you are to him. he tries - god, does he try - to show you the extent of his love, if he can't afford the words or time, then in deeds.

you're taken care of for the rest of your life, that was a given. the penthouse is in your name, various trusts set up in the impossible event of his death.

you have full access to a joint account that was actually just yours, set up for you by him - he just didn't feel like trying to convince you to accept the money.

he buys you things, of course. food mostly, to eat together, but also little trinkets and manga and souvenirs of the various places he goes to. little pieces of his life to share with you.

and when he can, he does do dates. every second he gets to spend with you is like gold, and he spends them all fully invested, eyes locked on you and yours, walking on air the entire time just from your presence. ready to talk about anything you had an interest in.

he's just that infatuated. satoru could talk for days to anyone, but you're the only one who'd listen, who'd chatter back just as enthusiastically. he wants you on speed dial every moment he's away.

shopping trips, too, he's always happy to play dress up, to dutifully compliment you even though privately he thinks you look best without any clothes -

and that, too, he does for you. he makes no secret of his affection for your body. spares not even a second getting to his knees, nuzzling against your thigh, cheeks flushed as he looks up at you with pleading eyes won't you feed me, pretty please, i'm starving~

he shows you he loves you. with hands and mouth and body, as a sorcerer should. silent curses falling from his lips as his body joins to yours.

it seems almost cruel of you to let him have this. why can't he live here forever? why can't he always be inside you?

satoru gojo knows he is the absolute last person who should be complaining about this, but why is life so unfair?

why can't he spend every minute of every day by your side? touching you? talking to you?

in his wildest dreams he's not killing curses or sorcerers or changing the world.

he's in bed with you, by your side from the moment he wakes up to the moment he falls asleep. that's his dream, just you being there, always.

he worries most of all what he'd do if you ever fought.

you're not the type - you "need space to calm down" sometimes, which is usually just you going back to your room. you "want to have a calm discussion" where you sit and listen to him and talk about feelings, and you have this way of making him talk.

you're good at communicating, at making people feel better, and understanding others. sensitive in a way that he's not.

you're never out to hurt him, even when he can tell his time away is grating on you, his constant absences and flightiness rightly off-putting.

you never argue with him, never make demands, and that's how you got together in the first place, the perfect match.

(it scares him, really, being made for battle as he is. where's your fighting spirit? wouldn't you cry and scream and beg if he was going to leave you? wouldn't you go to war for your love? he knows he would.)

but deep down he knows it's there. a massive part of his life is hidden from you - things that are important to him; his mission, his students, his power.

he doesn't know what to do, really.

he wants to keep you safe, unworried. he wants to keep this island of peaceful, mundane happiness in his life.

he wants you to love him, wholly and completely, for all that he is. he wants to hear you tell him he's doing it right. that you're proud of him.

there's so much he wants now, compared to when his life was just teaching students, killing curses, and waiting for the day he'd have to kill his only friend.

satoru isn't sure which one is better. because even though he hopes he can have you how he wants, and the rest of his life too -

he's starting to think it might not be possible.

[avanillaskyline]

I've been going through tma recently at the request of my girlfriend. She has, on multiple occasions, showed me the Jurgen Leitner rant. I know I'm not very far into it yet (MAG 53), but I'm under the impression he's getting a bad rep.

Like, we're dealing with a setting where people literally get eaten by the sky and evil worms that burrow into people and kill them in minutes. We're dealing with a setting where Fuckhands McMike can banish literally anyone to the Backrooms (and stab Jon??? Because he feels like it?????) and yet we hate Jurgen because he liked literature. ok. I am SURE there's more awful people out there than a silly lil fucked up book collector

Dude just wants a cool library and I support this, even if he's a little messed up. If he got his hands on the Necronomicon I firstly, wouldn't be surprised and secondly, would support him.

But I'm not buying it. Someone in the setting's gotta be worse

Like... Tim? No, Tim's an absolute himbo fuckboy, we can't hate him. Who else? Sasha's been kinda funky and off-putting since Mag 40 but hasn't been evil, Martin's our bestest cinnamon roll boy, and Jon's just a dedicated lil guy who gets beat up because the world hates him for no reason. We just met that new girl, Basira? She's got good vibes and I'd probably kill for Gertrude

Who else is left?? OH, ELIAS. He owns the archives and told off Jon to "not stalk his coworkers" (ok fun police), which is offensive to both me and Jon, so he automatically goes in the "bitch-ass mf" category and I do not like him

Jon's suspicious of him and SO AM I

(I'll reblog this when I get further in with more details, no spoilers please)

[rupeenotruby]

Bonus:

Of Courses I Have Horses! [First] <<Previous || Next>>

Ok I am I lair who lies :'( This was supposed to be made way faster but my real-life kind of popped up and bit me very squarely in the ass. Next one will be out within a day though (100% guarantee pinky-promise) as it is 80% done.

Also so the part where Wild says the "stirrups" he is technically supposed to be referring to the "fender" (at least according to this image:

and reddit) . I still just said the stirrups though because how many of you know what the "fender" was referring to if I said that instead? I think this is one of the instances where the fact that I don't actually interact with horses regularly shows through because I don't know if this is how equestrians talk?? Sometimes you can just tell when someone is inside a community or outside one because of how they refer to things and how they put together sentences which I think is interesting.

Anyways that bonus (whew) had a veeerrrry different punchline but I thought it was a little suggestive lol. I just think the difference between Four's Shadow and Hyrule's Shadow is funny. Same with Ganon(dorf). Like sure we have Sky not knowing who Ganon is. But Hyrule just thinks he is a blue pig. Imagine his shock when there is a Ganondorf who is just... some guy??

The motion in this was soooo hard omg. It looks funky but I will get better. That last panel transition is a little rough though. My b.

[iwannascreameurekaa]

"if it's okay for poc to be cast as originally white characters then why can't we cast white people for poc characters"

Great question I have a wonderful answer for you

to start this is about a post I saw about Leah playing Annabeth Chase in the Percy Jackson show. Someone in the comment section was complaining about it and saying that they think a white person should be casted for Hazel if there's ever a live action heros of Olympus. This person claimed that if race has no meaning when casting a black perosn for Annabeth, then why would it matter for Hazel?

here's where this person is so incredibly wrong that it confuses me on what their brain is used for if not to make a complete thought. Hazels race was one of the most important things about her backstory

Hazel was a woc in there 1940s she went to a school for colored children. She legit experienced segregation. The whole reason that she had a connection to Leo is because she went to school with his grandfather sammy and the only reason she knew sammy was because of that school for colored children. Just that is enough to tell her that yes her race does in fact have a meaning and isn't something you should change

then the person in the comment section started talking about Frank.. then Leo and then piper. Basically they ranted on and on about any poc character

Let's start with Leo now. I'm bringing back the hazel point because again the only reason that he and Hazel had a funky connection at the beginning of moa is because of that school for colored children. Leo's Hispanic heritage is also important when concerning how his life with his mother was up till he died. One of the reasons he ran away from his aunts house was because she was religious and constantly called him the devil.

what about Frank? Well his Chinese heritage connected him to Poseidon which made him related to Percy which isn't massively important but you know it's a plot point so I see no point in getting rid of it

and piper? One of the first things we find out about piper is that she is bullied for being cherokee. The FIRST thing we see of piper interacting with characters besides Jason and Leo is her experiencing racism. It is insane that some people think that's just a thing that could be thrown away. Her Cherokee heritage also relates to her main character development in the trials of Apollo and lots of her "wisdom" is old cherokee stories her grandpa would tell her

and tell me one fucking moment in the series where Percy or Jason's race was important. Other than them being Greek/roman because they're all Greek and Roman so shut up

oh but since everyone's complaining about Annabeth being black in the show that must mean that her being white in the books is SOOOOO important

... it's not. In fact she's literally 1000x tanner than most of y'all depict her in the "canon" fanart so... yeah. And those of y'all saying "what about her being blonde that's her main character thing blah blah blah" I'm sorry is this the 2000s??? Blondes being dumb is a horribly outdated stereotype that is only ever used in a joking manner now back when the lightning thief was written in was a thing used against blonde women but now it isn't.

You know a certain group that is targeted and deemed dumb because of how they look? People of color, specifying black women.

Annabeth Chase being black is probably one of the best casting decisions ever, and I say this knowing that race wasn't the main thing when casting. Leah is the perfect person to play Annabeth and I will die on that hill. She has the script determination and the emotional range that makes her the perfect candidate for Annabeth.

If Annabeth Chase were real she would love Leah and she would hate you all for saying Leah isn't her.

Rant ended. Get your heads out of your asses before you say more racist shit.

[starillusion13]

Our Party

▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️

Coming to face them after years at a club where you went to enjoy with your friends to relieve stress on a weekend is unfortunate for you.Really though? You had parted your ways back then and now they don’t matter to you. But is that same for them?

▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️

Pairing: ot8 x f!reader (poly!ateez x reader)

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Mature, Yandere

Warnings: possessiveness, controlling act and obsession.(there are arguments between them a bit but remember Ateez is too good to do that).Gang bang. Exhibition. Oral(f.recv),dom!ateez, cum play,nipple play,anal sex, overstimulation, orgasm denial,fingering, a bit of pain, exhaustion,marking,biting,sucking, drinking, making up sex without protection ( don’t do it in real life if you don’t want to unnecessarily increase the population.)

W.C: 11.9k

Note: @justhere4kpop my dear friend has requested me for poly ateez (the one in the event post) and I can’t just ignore it so bear with this ‘don’t know what to do’ fic.

Taglist: In the end of the fic

Come on everybody. Slow it down, make it bouncy.

——————————————————————————

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

——————————————————————————

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT UNDER THE POST🔞

*Buckle up your seatbelts and lets go on a long ride.*

“Wow…...” your eyes sparkling while looking at the mirror which is reflecting your figure in the new dress. You are dressed up in a body hugging black strapless dress ending on your mid-thigh. You didn’t expect it to look so good on you. Well, you are going out to a night club with your friends after getting an off for one week from the workplace. So, to relieve the stress of your overtime work from your previous month, this is the best option for you. Satisfied with your look, you glanced at the clock and it shows exactly eight in the night and your friend might come up anytime soon to pick you up.

Just the moment you locked the main door behind you, a voice spoke up.

“Hey beautiful!” OMG don’t. This voice is so deep and attractive and you know the owner of this damn voice very well. Turning around, you found the gorgeous man standing in front of you with a white funky t-shirt and torn styled denim jeans. His newly died silver hair with this casual outfit is making him the most attractive man to ever exist.

“Oh my god Taeyong please. I mean don’t call me like this when am just your best friend, I might end up proposing you on this spot here right now.” You fake gasped and then ended up laughing with him. Your other friend who is in the car made a loud horn sound to bring both of your attention towards him, Jaehyun. Another attractive man in your life, you don’t know why they are your best friends when they could have got other girls to make friends but all three of you are friends since middle school and then are inseparable. Well maybe I look good too.

“Let’s go. Hurry up or that grumpy ass will invite the whole colony with this horn.” You both are continuously laughing on your way towards the car. Getting inside it, Taeyong sat on the passenger seat and you in the back because you love to lean in between the space of front two seats to annoy them. You three made your ride to The Neo Bouncy Club.

Getting outside the car, Taeyong holds your hand on one side and you glance to your other side to take a look of Jaehyun, then you see him in his black shirt and denims with hands folded till elbow. Oh gosh! This man. He looks at you and then smirked. Taeyong pulled you towards the entrance and the other one followed you two.

Entering the club, your nose hit with the usual alcohol smell mixed with some fruit flavored smokes. The neon green disco lights all around the dance floor blinking with the rhythm of the music playing aloud. You smiled when you remember that you are here for fun with your friends so you pulled both of them towards the drink section.

“Shall we order drinks?” hoping to get positive reply, they both denied. Weird. Jaehyun is always usually the one to offer drinks among you three then what’s the cause of sudden change in behaviour.

“I don’t think we should drink now.” The tall one said looking at you and then towards Taeyong who was busy reading out the different names of the drinks displayed on the screen and making annoyed face when not getting the actual pronunciations. You flicked on his head.

“Ouch! What?” Taeyong with confusion in his eyes looks at you both.

“I told her we should not drink now knowing who is here.” Taeyong paused for a moment, expression changing to serious similarly as Jaehyun. He then nodded on his friend’s words.

“Woah wait there. Who is here?”

If they are referring to rest of NCT then you know, Kun will scold you for drinking when he knows how badly you and Taeyong can’t control yourselves in drunk state.

“Them.”

Both of them replied together while settling down with you on one of the corner sofas. You looked at them laughing loudly.

“So? It’s not like I will listen to Kun today. I am here for fun and I can do anything so come on with me, don’t let anyone to stop us from having fun.”

Jaehyun looking directly to you when speaking.

“Y/N……. it’s not about Kun. It’s them.”

He glanced towards a crowd of people dancing, you mimic his action but saw no one. You failed to notice that someone was staring at you from there all this time. You turned back to them, “Fine. You stay here, me and Taeyong will enjoy so see you later boy.”

“Y/N-” you pulled the said man towards the dance floor with you and on your way, you both took some drinks for yourselves.

Someone behind you both did the same thing.

Taeyong turns you to face him, “Y/N, they are here. I know I should not bring up this right now but unfortunately when entering the club, I saw them, ATEEZ. All of them are here. I locked eyes with one of them and they know now that am aware of their coming.”

Your smiling face disappeared when you realized what they were referring to all these times. THEM! They are back here. So? It should not matter to you. Everything between you and them has ended long back ago and you guys have parted your ways on your own.

“So? It’s not like they matter to me anymore. I know one of them is the owner of this club but this is my favorite one and also because the hotel above this club is Jaehyun’s.”

“I know you don’t care about them” taking a sip of his drink he added, “but the look in their eyes when they saw you with me entering the club was telling otherwise.”

You both have finished your drinks so he kept the glasses on a nearest counter.

“Stop it TY. You are thinking too much. They were just probably looking at me because they saw me after two years or maybe they were looking at someone else.”

Taeyong smiled at you and he hugged you tightly. The hug felt so nice because this comfort is all you need right now, maybe you are showing off your strong personality in front of him but deep down you are afraid and sad for them.

You are sad because all your memories spent with them are flashing to you and now you get that how much you still adore those precious moments with them.

They were your family, the only family after your parents died but suddenly one day you thought that everything is wrong. Why? Maybe you thought everything in your life is not meant forever. No. Everything was right in your end except that one day when one of your old school friends was totally spreading rumors about you to them. The way they bombarded you with questions later that night hurt you and you decided to part with them when they don’t have a minimum trust for you.

You are afraid. Why? Well, you don’t know yourself.

The loud beat of the music in the background is just the contrast to the comfortable moment you are sharing with your best friend. Taeyong got a call and he looked worried but regain his composure to face you.

“Y/N? I need to go because you know we have our night business and we can’t miss that. You are here today only to enjoy but I know you can enjoy all by yourself because you prefer that way while drinking alone. Also, if you need help to go back home, just call one of the dream members from upstairs, they will help you.”

 He gave you his little smile and goes towards the exit where Jaehyun was already standing, before going away, the latter gave you a quick wink towards you. What a flirt!

“You were enjoying the hug too much.” Oh! the owner of this deep voice, you know him; The owner of the club.

Turning around you fake smiled, “Mingi….” He didn’t smile rather scan your whole figure and the lights falling on his face clearly shows his tensed jaw. Is he angry? You hesitantly brushed the side of the dress to see if something is wrong or not. His dark look is going well with his all-over black outfit of black shirt and black pant.

“Didn’t you have something else to wear?”

“What?”

“This is completely looking like you have just wrapped a shiny black plastic around you just to cover your private parts leaving the rest of the body visible to all hungry eyes here.”

Okay, then he is referring to himself as well. Right?

“Excuse me. You are no one to judge me when you are also one of them.” You are getting frustrated as to why you are not getting yourself to enjoy the day instead every worst possibility is bringing them in between.

He holds one of your hands and gripped it tightly. The grip hurts you a bit but before you can react to the pain, he pulled you towards a direction.

“What the hell are you doing? Leave my hand. Where are you taking me?”

Your shouts are getting dispersed in the loud music. Some people are cursing you both when Mingi was harshly pushing away the people coming in front of you both while making his way through the crowds. You both reached near a L-shaped sofa but you didn’t notice it yet, you were busy looking at the crowd to find any of the NCT members. You suddenly tripped because Mingi suddenly stopped in his tracks, you looked at him and then towards the front.

Wait. They look so hot and more handsome than last you saw them. They all are in their casual outfits that they usually wear when going to clubs. You look at each one of them precisely, starting from left is Yeosang in a plain black t-shirt and denim sitting annoyed beside san and wooyoung in between them wearing similar outfit like him but white and blue t-shirts respectively and laughing at the phone in san’s hand. Next to San, sitting in the exact corner is Jongho in a white tee with denim jacket and jeans. He is looking down maybe thinking something. Next to him is Hongjoong and Seonghwa in leathers and lastly beside them is Yunho in white shirt folded till elbow and denim. And GIRL, He is already staring at you with his famous smirk.

“Look who is here.” Nice. Tell everyone that a special guest is here. Each one of them quickly followed Yeosang’s eyes and they saw you standing beside Mingi and glaring at him.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“I told him to.” Hongjoong swirling the liquid in the glass said with a smile rather looks like a smirk. His attention is towards the glass and the liquid movement and your eyes focusing on it as well.

“Why?”

“We want you here away from those hungry eyes and those boys?” Yunho spoke from the end of the sofa and sit himself comfortably in a crossed leg position.

“Huh? What are you even saying, just shut up. I was here with my best friends and they just went for their sudden work and now I was just going to have fun with the other friends who are just upstairs.” You are getting annoyed and tried to turn around but the grip on your hand didn’t let that happen rather pulled you towards the glass table in front of them.

“Did we tell you to leave?” Seonghwa said placing the wine glass on the table.

“Why will I listen to you?”

“You actually never listened to us and always acted on your own.” Jongho looked up at your standing figure and eyes scanning the body.

“Don’t act like we know each other. Just let me enjoy my day and you guys carry on yourselves with whatever you were doing.”

“Why are you out in these clothes?” San spoke, he is no more laughing like before but glaring at you. You jerked your hands from Mingi’s grip and brushed your hairs before tugging them behind your ears.

“Oh gosh. First Mingi and now you, what is the problem of me wearing anything. This is my day to enjoy myself and you all let me do it.” Wooyoung laughed at your annoyed plead. He stands up and comes in front of you. Hands tracing your face slowly and then he gripped your jaw tightly.

“Follow what we are telling you to do or else you have to regret more.”

You parted your lips to argue back with him when Yunho comes beside you where Mingi was standing before. Where is he? Looking around, you can’t spot him anywhere. Yunho holds your hand and kiss it softly, “We missed you.” He smiles at you.

“What?” Your confused eyes staring at both the males standing near you. Seeing them after years is really telling you how much you have missed them but this is not right. You can’t be with them again. They don’t trust you or love you like once they had.

San came up to you and pulled you towards the sofa and made you sit between his thighs with Yeosang on his side. Your short dress riding up made all the males eyes focusing on your thigh. Your attempt to pull the dress down earned a slap on your thigh from him.

“Ahh…..”

“Oh love, how much I missed this sound?” Hongjoong spoke up, his eyes covered with some hairs falling in front looking directly at you. He nears to your frame and sat himself down on his knees in front of you. Putting his two hands on your bare thighs, he starts to draw patterns and this is giving you some sensation which you don’t want to feel right now. Yeosang is playing with your hairs. San is holding you tightly on the place. You were looking at Seonghwa who was busy telling a man about something and when he caught you staring at him, he spoke up, audible to his brothers.

“I got the room we asked for, let’s go there before someone becomes impatient.”

You felt a kiss on one of your thighs and when you look down, the man sitting in front of you is smiling innocently. He speaks softly, “that’s good then.”

“I can’t wait for that.” Wooyoung said excitedly while putting a hand around Yunho. The latter agreed nodding his head.

You heard someone whispered in your ears beside you, “me too.” His breath fanning over your ears. When you look that way, you see Yeosang smirking at you.

“I’m not going anywhere with you all.” You glared at Yeosang but your body becomes stiff when San’s hot breath hits your other ear and he licks the ear lobe.

“San…..”

“Yes pretty. Dou you want something?” You look towards others where some are either smirking or others pretending as if everything is normal.

“Who said we are going to listen to you?” Jongho suddenly spoke from the corner and you both turned to that direction.

Honjoong is still sitting down in front of you and when your gaze falls on him, he smiles “Let’s talk out everything first. Will you?”

You nodded on his words and Seonghwa directed all of you to the destined room.

On your way to the private room, you are hoping to stumble with any of your friends and then you can just escape this situation. Somehow, in the corner of your mind, you are feeling excited to meet them again after such a long time and just don’t want to ruin the moment when you just got back them.

Entering the room, your heartbeat increases and you can smell your favorite aroma of air freshner and the red led light decoration making the atmosphere unnecessarily too hot even when there is an air condition.

“Come Y/N.”

The oldest who is having a firm grip around your wrist all the way from downstairs to the second floor of the hotel pulls you to a corner. There was a similar L-shaped corner sofa with two mini sofas on other sides of the tea table. All the males scattered themselves around the room. You sit on the mini sofa facing the bed and you can see Wooyoung and San sitting on the edge with their focus on you. You avert your eyes to the corner chair beside the bed where Jongho is sitting and rummaging through the drawers of the bedside stand. Then, there Seonghwa is already sitting beside you holding your hands on his lap and waiting for others to settle down.

“Y/N? How are you?” Yeosang asked you slowly from the other mini sofa.

Your eyes search for any roguish look on his face but his look is otherwise, “I’m fine. Of course, I need to be fine when you all just being out there believing some bitch.”

“It’s not like that Y/N.”

“Then what is it Hongjoong?” You looked over to the big space where Yunho sitting near you and then Hongjoong to your exact opposite and beside him Mingi.

“You misunderstood us.”

“Look Mingi, now you can’t make myself the guilty here.”

“Y/N, please relax and listen.” Seonghwa squeezed your hand.

“I’m trying but I don’t know what’s the point of explaining anything when everything was over back then and we are good on our own way.”

“No one is better than having you around with us.” Yunho said. “You are not happy too.”

“I am fine and all these months I was enjoying my new life without you all.”

“Yeah, sure those two boys are really keeping company with you in every possible way, no wonder how you both were hugging each other.”

“He is my bestfriend.”

Some made noises of annoyance or some just ‘tsch’ in reply.

“Y/N. I’m sorry.”

Seonghwa is always the first one to apologise to you or to other seven of them because him being the oldest, he never tries to show his authority like Hongjoong but wanted to take responsibilities of everyone’s problem and make them feel at ease by reminding them that he can take care of them.

“I’m sorry that we acted like that. We didn’t mean to upset you rather we were just trying to know the real story apart from her lies. I guess we should have given you some time. You seemed upset when she treated you like that on that day.”

Yunho added, “We never trusted her single word. We believe in you. We only believe you baby.”

“Even if I lie?”

“Yes.”

“How come you never try to find me or never tried to convince me to get me back home?”

Hongjoong made an eye contact with you, “Who told we never know your whereabouts?”

“Huh?”

Yeosang smiled, “We have been keeping updates about you every day and so that’s why I just asked you how are you.”

“So, you all were stalking me?”

“Well absolutely because we can’t let anyone get to own what is ours.”

“You are stupid Mingi. It’s not like some random people gets to own me whenever they want.”

“It’s not about some randomness. We can see how you have this little crush on Jaehyun.” San suddenly spoke up from the bed and then when you saw that everybody’s eyes are on you.

“WTH! He and Taeyong are my bestfriends and they were always there with me whenever I needed help and I always have the assurance to run back to them to escape my problem.”

“And what about us? Were we not there?”

“Wooyoung. I didn’t mean that.”

“Did we not help you with anything? We were the one you cried and spend sleepless nights for your parents. We were the one who always prioritize you on the top before anything. We cared about your happiness, your career, your needs and your love. We used to keep you at home only to ourselves but when we found out your loneliness, we let you to go outside to have fun with your friends but now your friends are everything to you only just because of that one night misunderstanding.”

“Woo- “

“No. I don’t want to listen.”

“Wooyoung, shut up.”

The one beside you made him shut up and hold your face to look at his smiling face, “We know that you still miss us. You are just afraid how to express yourself after all these months.”

“I don’t know…” wooyoung made a ‘tsch’ sound and Jongho shot him a glare.

Hongjoong poured his drink in a glass from one of the bottles displayed on the centre table, “We are not here for casual talk. Why do you think we are here today? Coincidence? No, not really. We knew about your plans for today from some NCT members and this was the only chance to have you talk to us somewhere private.”

“I don’t want to talk to any of you. I have to go.”

“Do you think after waiting for all these times and letting you to collect yourself just to say sorry and let you go?”

“Why will you not let me go? I understand that I misunderstood you all but you could have convinced me to return in some other ways.”

“You would not have listen.”

“Jongho….. I waited everyday for one of you to come and take me back to where I actually belong. No one came and now after all these days here, you are suddenly apologizing to me for that day.”

 Tears rolled down your cheeks and you clutched Seonghwa’s jacket when he hugged you. His cologne hits your nose and then when your memories with him flashed in front of you.

“Shh.. It’s okay. We are here now and you are not alone.”

“You all will leave me alone again if this kind of thing happen in future. Wooyoung will blame me for everything again. I don’t need your sympathy when I know nothing will last long.”

“Y/N.”

Someone is behind you and the person is stroking your head to calm down your sobs.

 “You used to share everything with me. So, trust me after seeing your condition like this, none of us are going to let this repeat again.”

You collect yourself but your face is messed up with tear strains and loose hairs all over your face. You turned to see the person behind you and see San giving you a comforting smile. You look around the room for once and then poured a glass for yourself not knowing if you even like the drink or not. Yeosang was about to stop you from drinking it but you stare at him and Hongjoong prevents him from interrupting you. The leader is the only one who knows you well, exactly how much your body is adaptable to everything. You chugged down the drink of bitter taste with closed eyes. In this messed up situation, the bitter taste seems somewhat pleasant but still the disgust on your face extended a glass of water from Mingi.

“We wanted to get you back but Taeyong threatened us not to go near you or he might have to report us”, Mingi said.

“I didn’t know. He did?”

“Of course, he would not have told you. He never wanted you to be stressed more. No matter what, we should have come to you earlier.”

“How can I believe you?”

“How you want to believe us?”

“Do you- Do you all still love me?”

Hongjoong chuckled, “What is your wild guess?”

“I don’t know….”

“Your mind is really working slow today. You are the only mean to live our life. We are nothing without you. You don’t know how some of them were like after you left us. You are the heart of our party. They were uncontrollable without you but to give you space I had to restrain them from all the possible acts they could have pulled off to get you back. Wooyoung was in top of that list and that’s why he spoke to you like that earlier.”

Your eyes followed where the said man is sitting and when he saw you staring at him, he avoided your gaze.

“Prove it.”

Your eyes taking in their looks with equal amount of time to each and their confused face staring down at you.

“What?”

“Prove it that you all still love me.”

“Y/N….”

“Do it before I change my mind.”

“All of us?”

“Yes.”

Seonghwa exchanged a look with Hongjoong when he guides you towards the bed and Wooyoung stood up and takes your previous spot.

 “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes. You all said that I am the heart of your party so prove how important is this heart to you to enjoy your party.”

Without wasting a second moment to hear your complaints or for you to change your mind suddenly, he attached his lips to you and your back slowly hit the bed with him on top of yourself. You closed your eyes on the impact and let him do whatever he wants to do right now. His soft hands brushing your cheeks and lips dancing with yours as if they are the ones dancing on a rhythm in this party with the melody of all past memories. His kiss always tastes sweet and you don’t know whether its because of his strawberry addiction or his sweet love for you. You opened your eyes to look at him and see him already staring at you with heart eyes. When you both were out of breath, he moved back and rested his forehead on yours.

“I missed us.”

“Me too.”

You are somewhat warm to know that Seonghwa is the one leading the situation to wherever this is going. You feel a bit shy on seeing their lustful eyes are all on you. Seonghwa takes your act to let him assure you.

“It’s okay Y/N. You don’t have to be shy. Its not like we haven’t seen this before.”

You nodded and let him to ride up your dress to expose your panty. His face moved closer to the heat and kissed your clothed clit. You gasped on the sudden contact and clutched his hair. He sits himself on his knees to remove his jacket and shirt and reveal his abs and well-built muscles and then when you can see those flexing muscles, the muscles which kept you warm underneath it, in tired nights

 Your spread-out body in the middle of the bed is getting the attention of eight males all at once and this is sending sparks to you. Every touch from the man near your feet is igniting the spark. These touches and the longingness in their eyes for you. You have missed all of these so much. You missed laughing with them, waking up with them after cuddle nights or sex nights. Them showing love to you in different ways and you returning the love to them is what you missed all these past months.

Seonghwa returned to resume his action and this time he slides down your panty to expose the main treat of the party. He quickly licked a mouthful strip of your arousal and you moaned. Your moan earned some grunts from all around the room.

“My pretty baby tastes the sweetest.” He inserted a finger to prep you and the bed dip beside your head. You avert your gaze from the man between your legs to the new comer beside you to see Jongho peeking down at you. He brushed your hairs away from your face and give you a soft smile.

“You don’t need to supress your moans. Please let us hear you. I missed your sweet sounds when you are feeling so good.”

“Jongho…”

The sudden curl of the finger hit your g-spot and you move your attention to the man below who is eager to have your eyes on him when he is the one giving you pleasure. Getting the attention he needed, he plopped inside another finger to stretch you out and his thumb spreading your juices all over the folds and the walls inside as if he is preparing his favorite dessert with garnishing it with chocolate syrup. Your silent moans turned into a big gasp when he suddenly entered you. You didn’t notice how he paused for a moment to free himself from his pants and then enter you when he felt you are ready.

“Seonghwa!”

“It’s okay baby. Calm down. Relax and just focus on the pleasure not the pain.”

Jongho kissed your head and added, “You came here to relax and enjoy in the first place. So, we will have every possible way to take away all of you pain and let you enjoy our private party.”

Your teary eyes stare directly to Seonghwa’s lustful eyes, “h-have you taken the protection?”

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to think about becoming a mother of my child right now.”

“That’s only his words. You can’t be sure of others.”

Everyone chuckled on Wooyong’s yell for accusing Seonghwa. Your pain turns into pleasure with the increase of the intensity of each thrust. Seonghwa intertwined his fingers with you and kissed you softly and thrusts you deeper hitting your g-spot. Seonghwa is always the one who is gentle with you whenever you are not in a mood but he can be a monster if you allow him to wreck you. Being the oldest has a lot of responsibilities but you never treated him that way and let him feel he can also voice out his problems to you. You always loved hearing him and then spending days and nights with him.

You moaned into his mouth when he is hitting your spot to the edge and with a last hit, you let it loose. Seonghwa grunt and slowed his movement

“Seonghwa….”

“Fuck.”

As promised, he pulled it out quickly to let his seeds spill over your belly and wiping it off slightly. The feeling of love by Seonghwa and him being so close with you and your fragile body shaking under his warmth.

“I love you Y/n.” You nodded and collecting your thoughts to reply him back but he kisses you on the forehead and shushed you.

“It’s okay love, you don’t have to say anything to me. I know you love me but just let me prove it to you. For now, you only listen to me and you can say it to me someday later.”

All this time, Jongho was praising you with sweet words and stroking your head to ease you. Seonghwa retreat himself to disappear into washroom and dressed up himself only in boxers and pants. Your foggy head is not taking in the surrounding well but suddenly you felt someone kissed your feet and in reflex you curl your toes, a shirtless Yeosang trailing kisses from your feet up to your leg and inner thigh with adoration in his eyes is looking up to you.

“Yeosang…I….need you.”

“Wait a moment bird, let me adore my bird’s delicate body after so many months. I missed this heat radiating from you. My cold lips were aching for your heat and I can’t waste any bit of it."

Your juices mixed with Seonghwa’s are still leaking from you and you felt his hot breath near your core and then your legs trying to close the distance. His strong hands grip your thigh to make it still and he rose his body to hover you and pull off the dress from you revealing your hidden delicacy to him. He eyed you intensely and smiled at you. He plopped a boob inside his mouth earning a loud moan from you.

“Yeosang!”

“Mine.”

He repeated the action to your other one and sucking the nipples hard. Your hands gripping the bedsheet strongly as if you will float if you lose the grip. He kissed on the middle of the chest and the kisses moved from your chest to shoulders and stomach and then to your lips. The kiss is delicate, too delicate than his previous actions but it is quick because you can feel his hands moved away from your breasts to his pants to free his paining tiny member. His member is teasing your entrance and you are whimpering under him. With a last kiss, he thrusts inside you. His thrusts are rough, not too rough but a bit rougher than the oldest one with whom you spent a soft sex few moments ago.

“Slow down. Y-you are t-too fast..”

“It’s okay bird. It will be okay. Just take it. I know you can.”

You moved your head sideways in pleasure to see Jongho is still on your left but this time Mingi has sat himself on the other side mimicking jongho’s posture. When he locks eyes with you, he gives you a soft smile. You can see seonghwa sitting on a chair near the bed just behind Jongho. They are all coming near to you even when you are in such intimate position with another member. They are trying to be close with you with every passing minute. Your hands strangled in Yeosang’s hair earning a grunt of pain when you pull his hair on him hitting your spot.

“Ah….”

“Say it loud. Let me hear my bird’s sweet melody.” He moved down to suck your neck and bites it leaving some bruises all over the neck.

With last three deep thrusts, you both cum together. He is still riding out his high and you with your blissed out face staring at him.

“I love you Y/N, my bird.” He scans your face and added, “Don’t say anything. We only want you to hear us today. I want to hear the sweet melody of my bird.”

He pecked you before retreating himself and giving you the kindest smile and went away. Your eyes followed him until your vision got blocked by Jongho’s muscular figure. He is taking off his shirt and your eyes following his movements that how quickly he was with freeing himself from all the unwanted materials on his body. You craned your neck to see San taking Jongho’s previous position and he smiled at you.

They all are smiling at you whenever you are locking eyes with them.

‘Are they mocking me?’

‘Are they making fun of my current situation?’

They are not interrupting others when they are having their private moments with you. They are giving you space even when they are practically so close with you. Mingi on other side is still occasionally stroking your upper arm or your shoulders to sense your uncomfortableness.

“Y/N. You are again overthinking. Your creased eyebrows and confused eyes literally telling me everything.”

This boy always understands you even when you don’t speak out your thoughts and still always try to calm you down with your overthinking nature. Jongho is always a reserved member among them and you know he is generally shy showing his feelings towards you and you are sure, he will hesitate to show his love for you in front of the presence of others.

“I missed you so much Y/N.”

Your mind cleared a bit to register his words and you try to give him a little smile. He reveals his gummy smile which totally making him look like a naked teenage boy standing at the foot of the bed. He quickly hovered you to trail kisses from your belly to your chest and to your lips. But, he didn’t kiss. He kissed you on the forehead.

“I want to break down this delicate body under me, with my love. But not today. Maybe some other day when it will be only you and me.”

“Jongho, its okay if you-“

“Shhhh…We told you to be quiet. Don’t speak and just enjoy the party.” And with that he thrusts inside you with his lips on you. You gasped into his mouth and he took the opportunity to explore the inside of your mouth with your teeths crashing each other and tongues rolling over, mixing your salivas. Every kind of fluid of your bodies are mixing at the moment, the way your hearts are sealing to each other again. His thrusts are fast and with your previous orgasms, this one brings you to your next one closer too soon. His hands gripping your hip is definitely leaving bruised and his handprints and similarly your one hand gripping his hair and the other one bedsheet.

“I’m c-close Jon-g-gho.”

“Me t-too.”

That’s it. He quickly pulled out and moved apart.

‘Yeosang didn’t pull out.’ Jongho noticing your actions, quickly sush you by telling you that they will give you pills later if necessary.

“I love you, my apple.” he paused to stare at you for few seconds and added, “I had no one to read them stories to sleep. You were not there to ask me how was my day and to know my problems which I try to hide back from everyone. I’m so happy to get you back to myself. Losing you was the biggest nightmare to me.”

 He giving you his gummy smile for the last time, went away. Someone is stroking your legs from the other side and then when you see hongjoong with a concern on his face looking at you.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded. You can’t reply with your fucked up mind. You are thinking of letters to form a word.

“You can go for more right?”

You again nodded. He took this as his signal to prepare himself to come closer to your body. San wiped off some of your sweat from the face and pat your head. Your attention is full on the leader. The way he took off his jacket attractively and throwing it off on the sofa and then swiftly removing his t-shirt showing his hard works on building his perfect body as he desired for himself. No. The body he always eager to build up to show you that he is better than everyone for you and only you. Of course, not comparing to his other members of the group.

“Follow the light signal, okay? If you are feeling too much, just tell me the light.”

With your assurance, he brings his face near your heat and giving it a peck before sliding in his tongue and sucking your clit hard.

“Hongjoong...”

Every inch of your body is delicate and your core is literally a flooded tank. He is sucking up all your leaking juice. He can be the one to listen to everybody patiently and coming up with final decisions but he is not patient inside the locked doors. He is never gentle with you on bed because he likes to show off his authority even if it means during the sex.

The moment you were close with your climax, he stops and moved upward to kiss you. The example of not being gentle. He ignored your whimpers and kissed you roughly. The way he is moving his lips as if you are his ‘thirty seconds to fame’ artwork and he has to give his all in his art to prove himself the best to you.

He inserts you and he grunts on feeling the wet walls swallowing him. You gripped his shoulders to take him inside your sensitive part without any pain.

“I am the best for you, You are mine. No one can take you away from me.”

“Hongjoong-“

“Mine to love. Mine to hate. Your everything is mine.”

His thrusts are fast and rough. He has no patience or mercy for you during this moment but he always apologizes later for his actions. But you kinda like him this way because of his way, this side is what turns you on the most and the first time you fell in love with him was when he was angry with Wooyoung at an event in college. Well speaking of this another boy, you can hear someone saying he would be the last one to participate in this party.

“Fuck.”

He didn’t pull out but thrusts deeper and you let him to do it until he rode out his high. You don’t have anymore energy to fight him back or to explain anything to anyone.

“I love you, my lady.”

“Hmm..”

“I love you and want to show you everything I can do for you. I will wait for your orders everytime, scold me, hit me, shout at me but don’t leave me again. Please.” You nodded.

 He caressed your cheeks and kissed your lips then forehead and then finally on your chest before detaching himself and went away.

You are lifted up by someone pulling your hands and making you sit when you felt the bed dips behind you. You slightly open your eyes to see freshen up Yeosang holding your weak body and smiling down at you. Before you can contemplate what is going on, a pair of hands turn you around and made you sit facing them. The person was sitting naked leaning to the headboard and legs spread wide open and you in between his legs and your legs over his on either side. Your body is a bit too weak to handle your sitting posture on your own so the person in front of you is supporting your balance.

“Are you still with me Y/N?”

“M-mingi…”

Your previous orgasms are still hitting your body and you are floating in Cloud 9. You don’t know if your make up is still okay or how is even your smudged face looking like right now. You are definitely reflecting ugliness to him. His one hand keeping your balance and the other one caressing your face. Your thoughts are clouding between their genuine love for you and they be leaving you for being so ugly at this moment.

“Yes doll, it’s me. Your Mingi.”

“I-I’m with you…Don’t leave me.”

“No one is leaving you, my doll.” Your sensitive and delicate body cant control your emotions and you started sobbing. Mingi wiped off your rolling tears and kissed the tear stained cheek.

“Can you take me?”

You nodded on his words and then he guides you to sit on his member. You jerked when his hard tiny partner hit your soft folds.

“Ah…”

“Just tell me if you are not okay and I will stop. I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to relax.”

“Mingi…..I can do it. I’m….I’m fine.” Your tried to move your hips when he grips it still to make you stop.

“Whats wrong?” you are scared if you have done anything wrong but Mingi’s assuring smile made you calm.

“Stay still. I told you to relax so let me do all the work.”

He is grinding his hips and thrusting upwards making you bounce on his laps. Your moans and whimpers echoed in the room. Your hands holding tightly Mingi’s shoulders for your dear life. Your body is too weak but you don’t want to make him stop to make him feel like he is hurting you. He is not hurting you maybe his words did that day but not today. He is a very sensitive person when comes to emotions but he can handle them very well to make others valuable with the attention they needed when they are vulnerable so he stays strong. Maybe he is a giant one in the group but he is really a softie when it comes to care for you. The sweet words flow from his mouth with his deep voice is really something that make you feel like the most precious person.

“You are doing so good for me doll.” He added,“Are you okay?”

“Yes…just too much.”

“Am I hurting you?” he slowed down his movements to which you squeezed your hold on him. His hands tracing your side frame to release any sort of tension in your body because of discomfort.

“NO NO Mingi. Please don’t stop. Its just too much at a time but please don’t stop. I want you. I need you to fill me up.”

He kissed your lips to make your ramblings stop. He knows that you are not in your right mind at this moment but you are conscious enough to let him know if you are on the verge to fall apart. His thrusts are a bit too deep and you can feel his length poking inside of you and then when it hit the g-spot. The familiar building up of a knot in your stomach sends a shiver all through your body. His one hand holding your hips to thrust into you and other hand holding your neck to deepen the kiss. He is kissing you with passion like you both kissed on your first day. This memory flash to your mind and you smiled a little in your kiss.

“Why a-are you s-smiling?”

You shook your head and rest your head on his shoulder and your mouth near his ears. Your hot breath on his neck is pushing him to the climax.

“I-I’m go-going to cum.”

“Cum on me doll.”

Your knot looses and let yourself break free. He caressed your bare back and kissed your shoulder. His thrusts for three more times and then he quickly pulls himself out to spill his seeds on your lower belly. He pats your head and your eyes closed to the touch.

“I love you, my doll. I missed you so much.”

He kissed you on your head and you can feel someone pulls you away from him and puts you on their lap. Your hooded eyes try to take in the situation but your hazy vision is not letting you to get a grip of the image of your surroundings. Your heavy breathing slowed down and someone is rocking you on their lap like you are a baby being protected from the monsters of your night mare.

“It’s okay, Y/N. Relax. I’m here. Take some rest.”

“Yunho…. No…. I can.”

“Shhh….Close your eyes. Calm your nerves. You are too exhausted and I don’t want to make you feel overwhelmed.”

You slightly open your eyes to look around to find Seonghwa, Hongjoong, yeosang and Jongho are all dressed up and sitting on the sofa and honjoong is looking back at you while rest three of them are busy with something. He nodded to your direction, you can feel yunho is speaking something but you cant make out the words or even you don’t know if he is speaking to you or someone else. Your legs loosely placed together on one side of his lap and your whole body  engulfed in his warm hug. His hot tight abs are in touch with your melting weak body making you the most delicate thing in that room.

The air is filled up with the smell of drinks and sex. You are not a fan of drinking other than enjoying your vodka from this club but the taste of different flavors from the different kisses and sharing such intimate moments during the taste is what you love the most with them. That’s why you missed coming to clubs with them.

It was never been easy to be in a poly relationship with eight boys but their love for you really proved their genuine need of you in their life. Everytime you thought back then to end this thing between you all, they pulled out something different each time to make you forget about your decisions. You loved it. You loved them equally but differently. Their way of showing you love is always different from others and you liked the uniqueness and loved them in their own way. Maybe you want different kinds of love at a time which is not burdening you or overwhelming you but making you feel safe and important.

San sitting on the bed near you caressed your legs when he sees you zoning out. Your eyes travel back to his face and he signalled you to close your eyes. You let the exhaustion engulf you and snuggled into Yunho’s neck to which he holds you tighter.

The atmosphere is silent and the sound of air conditioner is audible which had no existence to your ears few seconds back. The room is cold and even every specific thing inside the room is quite cold except the warm bodies all around the room. A tiny sleeping body is being hugged by a giant in his boxers and staring down at the figure in his hold. Another pair of eyes is focusing on the sleeping face.

“San. Do you want to go next?”

The pair of eyes travels from your face up to the speaking person’s face to give him a head shake.

“ No Yunho. Last time she saw you and wanted you. It’s better if you go next. I can wait here unlike someone else.” He glanced to the person sitting on the other side on the other side of the bed.

“Shut up. I am waiting for my turn since the first person made his move. If you were in my position then only you could have felt my pain.”

“Oh! So painful story. I’m so hurt hearing you. Can I help you with it?”

Wooyoung made an annoyed face and throw a pillow at the smirking person. Suddenly a phone starts to ring from the bedside table and it was yours with the caller id ‘Markieee’ on display. Wooyoung quickly picked it up before it can disturb your sleep even more.

“Hello?”

“Yo girl Y/N. Where are you? Taeyong told us you will be near the dance floor but couldn’t find.”

“She is not in the club.”

“Who are you?”

“Lot more important one than you in her life.”

“Huh? Tell me you shit. Is my Y/N okay? Where is she?”

“She is not your-“

Hongjoong snatched away the phone from his hold to shot him a glare and smiled in the call.

“She is safe with us. I’m Hongjoong. Tell me where you are right now and I can go explain it to you.”

Ending the call with Mark, he signalled Seonghwa and Jongho to follow him. They glanced at you for the last time before leaving the room. Yeosang scan around the bed and returned his attention to whatever he was doing on his phone.

More than one hour has passed after you fell asleep. Yunho laid you down in the middle of the bed and went towards your feet. He holds your ankle and moved them apart revealing your now dried up cunt. He kissed on your knees and then in your inner thighs. His sloppy kiss echoed around the room and then he was mouthing your heat. Your slow movements made him halt and you blinked your eyes open to quickly notice the commotion between your legs. The giant man sends a smile to your sleepy face.

“Wake up, Tiny.”

Your body squirming under his tight grip on your hip to devour you. His tongue knows the exact turn and twist to give you the sparks and to make you feel good in no time. Your hands gripping the bedsheet moves down to strangle his hairs and pushed him further into your heat but he groans.

“You are hurting me. Let me be on my own. Move your hands.”

You quickly retreat your hands but when his tongue starts to play in fast pace, it made your back curled up and your hands again tried to approach him but got held by the two men on your either side.

“Easy there. Take it. We know you can.”

“San. I cant. I want to touch him, please.”

“You will. Just wait a moment.” His words assured you and you hit your climax. You can feel Yunho is sucking up all your spilling juices and with a last kiss, he moves upward to kiss you on your lips to give you a taste of yourself for the first time this night. His kiss is slow and dominative and the way he is biting your lips, you know it will be swollen later.

“The tiny one is the sweetest.” He slightly taps your nose with a finger made you giggle a bit.

 Yunho, he is always the dominative one on bed. He will listen to all your sulking demands other times but you can’t get to say a single word on bed. He likes to wreck you and see you whimper underneath him, he likes to watch you fall apart under him because that is how he knows that he is making you feel good like no one else can ever do. The way he pushed himself into you and tears pooled in the corner of your eyes. They left your hand loose and you quickly hugged Yunho who is hovering your tiny frame and your hands wander over his flexing back.

Feeling your hands tickling to his skin, he thrusts deeper and hits your spot making you scream out his name.

“Yunho!”

“Am I making you feel good? Say it tiny.”

“Yes yes you are.”

He moves his face closer to your neck and sucks your sweet spot before biting it down in the process. Your fingers dig deeper into his back and your nails scratching leaving read marks all over. He likes to be marked like this and to see it later that how he can perfectly get a hold of you and make you feel good. The increase of his pace ignites your body knowing that he is also close to the edge like you. His wet mouth sounds leaving marks all over your neck and collar bones and you moaning his name near his ears filled the room.

“Cum.”

You didn’t even let the word to complete and you come on his dick. He came inside you and ride out his high with you. Your mind this time again hit with the thought of possibilities of pregnancy. He pressed your folds tightly to not let to leak it out from you.

"Look at me."

“Yunho why-“

“I wanted to release myself inside of you. I missed us inside each other please.”

You nodded your head remembering how one of them had said to give you the pills and to stress on that. His fingers tracing over the marks over your soft skin and he smiled to them and other hand caressing your head to calm your restless nerves after the release. His sweats falling over your face is getting mixed with your own. You don’t mind if you get filled up with his sweats instead of his seeds.

“I love you tiny.” He paused to see if you are listening to him or not but when you nodded, he continues. “I missed how your tiny body fits perfectly under my cage. You are perfect to be mine.”

He pulls off himself and kissed your tummy before going away from the scene.

Someone caressed your cheek from your side and the touch is very familiar because the pattern he is tracing is his name. You slowly hold his hand and looked at him.

“San.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“You can continue the party, right?”

“Yes, I can. Please san come here and let me show you.”

“Slowly. Slow down there, princess. I can see you don’t want me to feel left out but my first priority is you being fine with this.”

“Yes, I am fine with everything.”

“Really?” This time, wooyoung spoke up with a concern in his question.

“You all really proved me that no matter how far we were, you never forgot every detail of my body and the way you all used to love me.”

San has prepped himself and positioned himself between your legs. Your juices leaked out a little but he is stretching out your folds with his fingers to make some space available for his length. Wooyoung got up when Yeosang and Mingi called him towards them and then when you can hear Mingi has bought some clothes from downstairs and the rest words you cant figure out anymore.

“don’t think we all love you only for your body and to fulfil our needs.”

Your eyes meet San’s intense gaze. He is staring at you as if he is watching every single movement of his prey before jumping on them.

“Huh?”

“We love you because you are the only heart in our life.”

He is thrusting slowly and deeply. He is thrusting deeper with each sentence. He is always the one who likes to speak out his thoughts and make others to do the same to prevent misunderstanding and he was the first one who accused you on your friend’s rumors. He tried to apologize to you later but you never listened and today you are going to give your all ears to him.

“I know.”

“We love you because you were the one, the one we needed in our life to make us fill up the empty spaces, to make us believe in ourselves, to let us be our best. We love you because you are Y/N. You are always different from every girl we came across. If we only wanted to fuck then we could have done with someone else but to make us closer, to turn our relationship more intimate, this was the only option to show you love.”

He added, “The day you decided to leave us we didn’t stop you because we were also hating us to make you feel like we don’t trust you. Please trust me, you cant imagine how we tortured ourselves to hurt you that day. We want to forget that worst of a day and that’s why we are trying to prove us today.”

“Its okay San. You don’t have to explain me all these. Apart from having sex, you all have always proved your genuine love to me in your other actions and I cant explain how lucky I feel to be myself and to be with you all.”

He caressed your cheeks and thrust deeper increasing his pace. He hovers his palm over your boobs and squeezed them earning a loud gasp from you. You gripped the bedsheet tight and let your toes curl and hit the bed. He is hitting your g-spot and your muscles are becoming tensed with the building up of the knot inside you. He is trying to be gentle with you but losing himself in the way.

“San.. more MORE please.”

“yes princess, there you go.”

He is squeezing your breasts, taking one in the mouth and massaging the other one. He is also biting down the region around your boobs to mark you and every time he is releasing the skin from his mouth creating a sloppy sound. He trails the kisses from your chest to the jaw and to your lips tracing a line of saliva.

He is kissing you with the rhythm similar to the wet sounds from where you both are connected down with each other. Both of your sweaty body glowing under the dim light of the room. Your one hand travelled into his hairs when he again goes down to suck your boob. His one hand is squeezing and massaging you and the other one rubbing circles on your clit.

“San…I-I am close….please..”

“I know. Hold on a bit more and you will get what you want.”

He pushed into you deeper if its even possible and then when he asked you to come on his dick. He pulled it out and release himself on your thigh. You both are breathing heavily with him on top of you and the air is a mixture of smell of sweat and different sex. The mixed smell of sweat and sex is the smell of love. The wet sounds, the moans, the grunts, those bites, kiss, those praises during the thrusts are the symbols of love and all these months and years, you have missed it so much.

“I love you, my princess. I was a bad prince to you but now I have to prove myself to be the better one than all those in fairytales.”

You look over to him with your hooded eyes and smiling face and then when he kissed on your eyes and moved back to get over you.

The time didn’t even pass for a second when someone is patting your cheeks. When you open your eyes, you can see wooyoung peeking to you with lust and concern in his eyes.

“Are you with me?”

“hmm….”

Everything is now a bit more sensitive to you. You are curling your hands and legs causing the bedsheet to get displace even when its already wrecked. Your eyes which you can barely keep open for a second followed him. Taking your consciousness as a sign, he took off his boxers and climbs the bed to sit leaning to the headboard. He pulled you up with Yunho helping him to make you sit on his lap. His length is poking in your lower back and your hands travelled to touch it.

“Don’t.”

Your shook your head. Why? Does he not want you? Is he angry with you because he is your last? Tears roll down your eyes. You are sobbing on his lap and your bare back hits his sweaty tanned chest when he pulls you back and holds your chin to make you face him.

“Why are you crying?”

“I don’t want you to think I love others more and didn’t let you join before. I know you are already angry with me more because of what happened when we came to this room.”

“Shh..babygirl..stop crying. I’m not angry with you. I cant be angry with you eveer. I was just….. just felt hurt to see you after so long and your words and thoughts towards my brothers hurt me. I know you are going through a lot of emotions and was just ranting on it. Please forgive me.”

He pecks you.

“Wooyoung, I know you are hurt. I know everyone was hurt. I should have thought about your side as well. You all never left my side but I didn’t let you all to explain to me or try to understand and being a selfish girl to you all. I don’t deserve you back as I had part my ways like that.”

He shook his head and hid hand pats your head, “ Don’t say like that. We don’t know how we are so lucky to have someone like you in our life. You are the one we don’t deserve. You are too precious and perfect for us.”

“Woo-“ His middle finger slips inside your folds and push into you deeper and two fingers stretching you out and his palm pressing on your clit.

You hold his wrist and other grip his thigh. You are squeezing your eyes shut and your every limb of the body is weak and fragile and he is delicately handling every inch of it.

“Anything wrong?”

“No..but you don’t have to prepare me and please I know you are waiting for too long.”

He chuckles on your words. His fingers going in a faster pace and he is sucking your ears and the licking wet sounds and his grunts filling your ears sending direct spark to your core.

“Woo-young.”

“Hm?”

“I need you to fill me up.”

“Sush it because I wont be gentle like any of them. The moment I will insert you, you have to break apart in my arms.”

The curl of his finger and hitting the exact spot was the last thing you need to break loose on his fingers. You are just letting yourself calm down with your release when he inserts his length to your back hole.

“Wooyoung!”

“Is it hurting you? Should I stop here?”

Yunho ran to your side and then when you lift your head up and your teary eyes looking up to him.

“What happened Y/N?”

“No nothing. Its just…I didn’t expect it all of a sudden.” He holds your face and scans if you are lying or not. Wooyoung holding you still with his grip on you hip so that you can’t hurt yourself with any little movement with him inside of you.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes Yunho.”

Nodding his head, he went back to join others and you can see others. Wait! Only Yunho, Yeosang and San is there but where are the others? Yeosang caught you looking at them confused and saw your orbs searching for others.

“Y/N?”

“Where-“

“The rest of them are downstairs. You don’t have to worry. No one has left you.”

Wooyoung taps your shoulders to signal you about him wanting to move. You nodded and he started to grind his hip forward to thrust inside you. You craned your neck to look towards him and he kissed your nose and then your lips. You can feel the taste of alcohol the most in his kiss because he drinks the most than others and he likes to taste different flavors. His hands squeezing your boobs and moving all over the chest and belly even sometimes pinching the nipples. He is literally sucking your lips and if possible, he can eat you up in any instant. You can feel his desperation in feeling you after such long time and even it feels too much for you, you will not tell him to stop because you want him to love you this way, in his own way.

He is always the most energetic and hyped up in the group and he cares for others before himself. If anyone bad mouth or insults him, it does not matter to him until someone doing the same with his close ones.

He breaks the kiss to move your hairs from your back and kissing your upper back and sucking and biting it in the way because he wants some other space, his own to mark you and to make you feel his love in a different way.

He is thrusting you harshly and the rhythm is very rough and hitting every corner of the hole and you can feel his length is exploring around your inside and stretching it out.

Your body is tensing up and his sloppy thrusts are indicating you that he is close and you are also reaching your climax. His one hand gripping tightly your hip and the other one pressing your clit to make you feel his thrust deeper. His thrusts are really rough and he is not willing to be gentle with you for once but you know if you warn him a bit for your discomfort, he is going to stop with his actions just for you to be comfortable with him.

“I’m gonna cum Woo.”

“Fuck.” He releases inside of you.

Your body shaking in his hold and his forehead is resting on your shoulder. Heavy breathing of two bodies along with heat radiating from both of you is mixing with the smell of the sex. He has totally wrecked you and you are vision is hazy and your mind is totally foggy after the rough sex.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?” your reply is near to a whisper but still audible to him. He pulls out and positioned your body sidewise in his arms to take a look of your smudge makeup look.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No. I’m okay. I-“

“I love you, my babygirl.” He kissed you on the nose and pecked your lips. “I am happy that you are finally in my arms. So vulnerable and so delicate and all because of me and us.”

He is hugging you tightly and caressing your body softly, just the contrasting way he was handling you few moments back in that intimate situation. With a final kiss on your cheek, he smiled at you and someone else took you from him and laid you down near the side of the bed. You tried your best to open your eyes to look at the person, the hold is as if he is handling a delicate thing which can break any moment.

“No need to open your eyes Y/N. Relax and let me take care of you.”

“Hongjoong I-“

“Shh…Sleep.” He is cleaning your body with some wet warm clothes and the cold air of the air conditioner is hitting your skin. One more person is there helping you to turn around and removing the bedsheet from beneath you. From the conversation between Hongjoong and him, you can guess him the youngest member, Jongho.

They put you into a loose trouser and an oversized t-shirt and someone took you in their arms to lift you up in the bridal style. The grip and the praises to lull you to sleep is totally referring to you being in the arms of the giant Yunho. Someone pats your head and you somehow open your eyes to realize your current situation. Seonghwa is patting you and smiling down at you and others are waiting near the door for three of you and Wooyoung who is putting on his t-shirt.

You all went towards the parking area and you are trying your best to stay awake in his arms.

“So, who is going to take which one?”

 “Seonghwa, you can take Yeosang and San along with you and rest of them can take the other car. I will go with Yunho and Y/N.”

Everyone agreed and were going in their particular direction of their cars.

“Where are we going?”

They all stopped in their tracks to turn towards Yunho and you and he is already staring down at you.

“To home. To our home. The home is empty without you even if there are eight of us because the heart of our life is missing.”

“Thank you.”

“Why tiny?”

“Thanks for showing that you all are still the same and you all love me the most.”

San speaks, “We will never hurt you again Y/N. We are all sorry.”

You smiled towards them.

“I love you. I love each one of you. I missed you too.”

They all gave you the kindest smile and nodded.

“Thanks for making our party the best. My club has a sweet memory now.”

Everyone laughed on Mingi’s statement and with sweet smiles on everyone’s face, they all went to enter their designated cars.

Wooyoung shout out his thought, “lets have a party like this again but not for the same reason and also I will be the first one.”

They all laughed and entered the car. Before starting the engine, Hongoong looks at the rear-view mirror to see you snuggled up in yunho’s arms in the back seat and the latter cooing down at you like you are a baby in his hold. He looked up in the mirror to meet the eyes of the one in driver’s seat.

“Today was amazing, I want this party again. She is the best treasure of our life.”

“The Heart of Our Party.”

LET'S NOW PRETEND YOU DONT KNOW MY BLOG!

______________________________________________________________

Taglist : @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @vvshere @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @yourfatherlucifer @m3tavita @onedumbho3 @goldnhwa @shmaleo-blog @pearltinyy @moonlightsora @oreharuuu @liniiiaa

______________________________________________________________

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Hate That I Love You

adam x insecure!tsundere(ithink) GNreader

Summary: You’ve been Lutes friend for a long while, and occasionally you ran into Adam; after finding out about the extermination thanks to him, you become a three party group. Except you can’t accept liking Adam, him being obnoxious and egotistical, you pretend you hate him. That blows up in your face.

Warnings: Suggestive, swearing, angst ish, hurt/comfort i think, insecurities around strength (mental and/or physical), implied but never confirmed virgin reader, readers looks get insulted nothing intense nor specific, descriptive panic attack/fainting, reader throws an object at adam’s head, NO YN, GN, No alluding to or mention of bodytype/hairtype/skin colour. oh possibly OOC adam idk, not proofread so sorry luvs, I think that’s it if not let me know! enjoy :3

Word count: 2K

Your index finger sat atop the straw sitting in your drink, moving it around the glass as you mindlessly listened as Adam ranted to you and Lute, mostly Lute, about Charlie Morningstar. You weren’t an exorcist- no, you actually didn’t know about the exterminations at all…up until recently. Thanks to one of Adam’s childish outbursts, you had a long night with Lute explaining the whole situation to you. Now you were sworn to secrecy, and conversations of the madness that the extermination were and everything they came with, AKA Charlie.

Adam wasn’t ever your buddy, he was just someone who shamelessly attached himself to Lute's hip; but you put up with it because of your good friendship with Lute. Now, he’s somehow weaselled his way into believing you were part of this weird “team” purely based off of association.

“I mean who does this long horned, pointy teeth, pussy mucher think she is?!” Adam screamed slamming his hands against the table, you rolled your eyes at him and his stupid antics. “You’re one to talk,” You replied, his eyes snapping toward you. “You’ve got both horns and teeth. Why don’t you take that funky band mask off anyways?”

Scoffing he rolled his neck side to side. “Because this is my job, my persona, how’re people gonna recognize me without it!? Duh, dumb bitch.” Muttering the insult quickly, he leaned his cheek on his palm and went back to sucking his drink.

“With all due respect sir, this is really bad news, we can’t let Charlie persuade Sera.” Lute piped up, her mask discarded showing the genuine emotion on her face. Sometimes you couldn’t tell if he was a friend, someone she was in love with, an annoying brother-like figure, or just her lazy ass boss. Maybe all of the above.

Which is probably one of the reasons you kept your tiny little crush on Adam to yourself. He was cruel to you anyways, always comparing you to someone faster, funnier, stronger, hotter at least that’s what you told yourself. Instead you chose to be more of a bitch back, acting as disgusted and disinterested as you could, especially when Lute was around as she could sniff out a lie like some psychic canine.

“Yeah, duh Lute i fucking know that. You think I've been jerking off this whole time! No, eyes, ears focused, I haven't cum in days.” He whined, throwing his head back. Lute only scoffed glancing over at you slumped back in your seat barely sipping your drink, eyes casted downward. “You don’t have to be here for this kind of talk,” Lute started saying, her hand inching across the table to yours, but she was stopped by Adam once more leaning forward, gloved palms slapping against the table.

“The fuck are you saying Lute!? We get another fucker in this circle and you wanna cast her out. Un-fucking-believeable. It’s like you want Charlie to win.” Throwing a napkin at Adam, Lute slid her hand away from you. “They’re not even an exorcist Adam, you’re the fuck head who got them in on exterminations!”

“No i didn’t, they walked in on a private conversation.” Eyebrows knitted together you lurched forward, anger fueling you. “Oh piss off Adam, how many times are we gonna go over this stupid situation! I’m not your fucking friend, i’m not ‘in’ on it, i’m here for Lute and you won’t fucking leave!”

Adam had a bored expression on his face while you ranted, unfazed by anything you’d said. Lute however bit her lip clasping her hands together. In a fight between her boss slash friend, and her friend, she didn’t know what to do. “You always have your nose up in Lute's business, it’s so annoying. Lute’s my man, okay she works for me! Guess who comes first in this business chica? Not you.” Adam mocked sticking his tongue out at you.

Standing you picked up your cup whipping it at Adam’s head, he dodge it easily, but your emotionally fueled violence made you quickly regretful as both Adam’s and Lutes eyes looked at you questioningly. You’d never really lost your shit before, and this wasn’t the worst Adam has said, so they were a little confused at your outburst, yourself included.

“Listen, Adam, I’m-“ Before you could finish Adam keeled over, laughing maniacally as you watched. After a few short laughter filled moments, Adam straightened, elbows on the table, hands hammocking his chin as he smiled up at you.

“Got some bite in you for sure huh babe, ha! I’m not surprised, honestly when i saw you i was like ‘this bitch has a face made for hell’, you probably got up here cause you were unfuckable so, like, virgin. Oh! Oh! That makes so much fucking sense dude! Ha! Bummer, I could smell the weak loser on ya, didn’t I tell ya danger tits?” Adam questioned head turned toward Lute after his animated, and very condescending speech.

Lute only looked down, not responding. Meanwhile you were horrified, you’d always felt a little less than Lute, after all she carried out holy duties, ones that you hadn’t fully known up until recently, so hearing Adam say the same things you thought of yourself, shattered you. Your face felt hot as tears gathered on the waterline of your eyes. You didn’t belong here, you said it for the longest time everyone here was mindless optimist zombies, Lute was your only lifeline, and for a few months you suppose-Adam.

You never hated him, but it’s clear he���s only fond of Lute. You’re the intruder, you’re the odd one. Clenching your fists you didn’t even bother with a come back, you slid out from your table booking it to the door. Tears unwillingly slid down your cheeks, your chest heaving as your throat closed silencing whatever weep dared to exit your throat.

You could hear Lute calling after you but you genuinely didn’t want to be followed by her, you were embarrassed; the last thing you wanted was the strong exorcist coming to witness you crumble. Throwing the door to the building open your wings sprung out on reflex, and after a few quick steps you took off. You couldn’t quite see, or breathe for that matter. Your mind lagged behind you, replaying the moments in your head that matched up to Adam’s insults.

You blinked rapidly as you attempted to focus on the clouds beneath you and breeze around you, but you couldn’t. You choked once more, your stomach convulsing inward causing you to gasp, a sob violently escaping you as you rocketed toward whatever surface you could find. Suddenly you hit something solid, stunning your flight and causing you to spin down, plummeting. As you fell, the breeze stabbed you as you cut into it, your wings sagging and loosely flailing above you, it felt so calm and freeing you didn’t feel the will to stop.

By the grace of god, however, you were caught and roughly smacked against the chest of someone, their arms clutching you tightly. You barely heard a ‘gotcha’ before your vision tunnelled, stomach flipped and you lost consciousness.

——

Waking slowly, your eyes stung the moment they opened, nearly watering at the blinding white that invaded them. Willing yourself to rise, you lazily scanned the room you laid in. A living room, coloured with yellows, creams and whites, it was, in all honesty, way too much. A large portrait of a man with a woman, meticulously scrapped out, hung above the fireplace. You’d never seen this man ever before, and the woman was too scratched out to get any idea on who it was. Suppose these people never existed as it was a painting, but there was something about the man that captivated you so deeply.

“Look who finally rose, sleeping bitchy.” You immediately felt sick, turning your head unsurprised to see Adam standing there smugly. You frowned deeply, it felt nearly impossible to twist your mouth in such a way, but there was no hiding your distaste in seeing the angel. “Why am I here, Adam.” You say scaldingly, eyes closed attempting to shield yourself from whatever foul look took over his face. “Well after your little shit show, a little over dramatic by the way, Lute left to find you, and I went for a fly. Then suddenly minding my own business I see you tryna play asteroid! Then when I caught you, your dumbass went out.”

Sighing loudly you pulled your hand down your face. “Please, admit Lute put you up to it.” Slamming a glass of water down on the table along with a platter of fruit, including oranges, pomegranates and mangos, Adam grunted moving his hand to sit on his hips. “The fuck she did, she’s not getting the praise for this one.” You looked up at him and then down at the fruit and drink on the side table just to your right, you nodded at it. “What’s this?”

You barely whispered out. Blowing air out threw his lips effectively raspberryingring the air, he shrugged. “Stuff for you, duh, you’re like sick or something right?” You nearly smiled at that, you’d never had Adam have that reaction. Quite the array of fruit as well, carefully you picked up a few pieces of orange, as well as mango that had a toothpick sticking up from them you munched down. You hummed, watching like a hawk as Adam walked across from you and sat on the other couch.

“How long was i out?” You questioned after swallowing, gulping down some water feeling the soothing sensation on your raw throat. “Maybe thirty minutes, not long. I texted Lute, I told her you were with me, safe.” That made you pause, you gazed up at him from the bowl of pomegranates you started digging into. “What? Why didn’t she come?” Adam huffed, throwing his hands behind his head and leaned back. “Because I told her not to.” Your mouth fell open eyes wide.

“Why thee holy fuck, would you tell her not to come?” Sitting up straighter you swung your legs over the side, sitting properly instead of lounging. Adam wouldn’t meet your gaze drifting off to the left and right. “Fucking… fuck!” He exclaimed almost in what sounded like exhaustion. Watching him closely, you waited as he seemed to have an inner debate with himself. Then swiftly he gripped his face and ripped off his mask.

The face you were met with was like a punch in the gut, yeah he could be compared to men you’ve seen in your lifetime probably at a gas station or cheap bar, but it was Adam. The man you’ve been trying so hard to hate, getting into cussing battles, throwing insults at each other that rolled off the back, occasionally praising each other's insults, forcing yourself to loathe him when you both kinda knew it wasn’t and now it was real. You got to look in his gold eyes, the dark thick lashes accentuating the uniqueness of his eye colour, the chin hair that crawled just under his chin -which you never expected him to have-, his tousled brown hair, thick eyebrows one eyebrow pierced - also a shock to you-.

He looked like the asshole he was, and it made you fucking sick. Trying so hard to hate him had come to this? Him unmasking himself after saving you? Cruel, you wanted to hate him, get over him not know that all he said about him being the hottest, the dickmaster, pussypounder-whatever, was probably true, that he’s hot. You were embarrassed to feel the nasty hum of jealousy claw at you when you could see the woman in the painting in your peripheral, that was obviously him, with some woman. He was wanted, and taken before.

Flicking his tongue over his lips you caught a glimpse of a tongue piercing because of course the pretty boy would get whatever he wanted without worrying about rules. He shuffled nervously biting his lip as you eyed him shamelessly, which to him was judgemental, his nerves suddenly making him feel sweaty. “Why?” You ask breathily, you were too enchanted to care how he perceived that however. His eyes properly met yours, your legs crossed subconsciously at the zap you felt just by a look.

“Youre fucking dumb you know that? You think I hang with Lute when you’re around because Lute’s there?!” Adam stood after the exclamation, his eyes shooting around the room, hands flying to his hair. “I can’t fucking do this a third time! Fuck!” Tossing a vase across the room you watched unfazed by the sudden explosion, after all this was your thing too.

“I only go round Lute like that because you’re there dumbass, i tried easing up on you; just like Lute said! But you, oh noooo little bitch, just had to be so fucking bratty.” Standing over you sneering, you made no attempts to move, not genuinely scared of his anger but instead, perhaps, a little aroused. You in a way understood where his frustrations came from anyway, you in a sense felt the same way. Might be why you lost it earlier, the yearning had gotten too real, and he seemed so focused on Charlie.

“I am so disgustingly attracted to you, not even in a sex way! And I know how to deal with that a lot better.” Swinging his hand out sassily, he smirked to himself. Plopping next to you he rested his cheek on his hand, elbows rested on his legs. Plucking an orange from the table you watched him eat it, juice moistening his lips. “You think i’d peel fruit, save, house and give water to some broad I genuinely hated? No, stupid.”

Laughing dryly, you looked up away from Adam’s intense gaze. You smiled, eyes falling from the ceiling to your lap. “God i fucking hate you,” Adam’s face looked horrified, opening his mouth to speak, you stopped him grabbing his cheeks and pulling into a searing hot kiss. Your lips crashed against each others’ lazily but passionately, opened mouthed and slightly sloppy. It was slow however, a kiss that wasn’t just a kiss, neither of you wanted to haste past such a moment, such emotion. Adam’s arms wrapped around your hips nudging you forward, understanding the message you moved in closer, your body’s pressing against each other as much as you could from the seated position on the couch.

You dug your fingers into his hair, brainlessly playing with different strands as your tongues slid along one another’s without care, tasting the orange he just ate presently on his lips and to tongue. It felt heavenly being up against him, Adam smelt so good, he was so warm and you could feel how badly he wanted this. His body jittered, his hands gripping you like you’d disappear if he loosened. Pulling away and looking at Adam, he made no effort to move eyes still closed like trying to etched this memory in his mind. You hummed lovingly, brushing hair away from his forehead. “You’re a dumb bitch.” He whispered raspily, opening his eyes, although not by much as they lidded with lust.

You smirked at him brushing your thumb against his bottom lip. “I know. You too.”

[nanamisdickrider]

¡Let me see you!

Characters: Nanami x reader / mdni

“I...still don't understand the meaning behind this honey..this will turn you on..?” Nanami looked at you and the scream mask in your hand. You claimed that it was a trend going around where the partners wears these... Funky masks..and it spices things up in the bedroom.

“Ofcourse it will ken!” you grinned and walked closer to him, handing him the mask. “Is this your way of saying that I'm not good-looking enough? Or well. This mask isn't handsome either in my opinion.” he examined the mask and looked at you through his glasses, putting his book down to hold the mask with both hands. “no kento what are you saying..I just wanted to try it out since you know..he's my favorite villain and it's said to make things very tense. But if you don't want to do it then it's fine” you said, reaching out to grab on the mask “Alright honey, I'll do it. Just this once.” your smile came back as you leaned down and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, giving a quick hug before taking the mask from his hands and walking out of his office

And maybe that was your biggest mistake.

“S-slower! Ken—” Spank. You made a second mistake when you asked Nanami to be rougher with you in bed while wearing that mask. He was always so gentle and careful with you, like you were glass. Tonight though. You were sure it wasn't actually kento under the mask. And that you will surely have a red ass and kento's fingerprints on your hips and waist. He was digging his fingers in your hips, pulling you closer to meet his thrusts. “Why are you in a rush baby? Didn't you want this? Come closer love.” Kento's right hand left your waist and went downwards towards your pretty cunt, rubbing on your clit and pinching it.

Maybe they were right, the mask did make everything intense during sex.

“is this turning you on baby? I can feel you squeezing me so tightly. I might break down there if you don't stop sweets.”

your eyes were rolling back, your nails digging in his back and you were sure you drew some blood. You couldn't look at him, well. The mask. Somehow everytime your eyes landed on the mask and down his toned abs and big arms, you would squeeze so hard. Your head was so messed up. You couldn't think straight. All you knew was that you were close. And so was he.

“Close? Honey?” you looked at him. You wanted to talk, to say something. Anything. But you couldn't, only gasps and moans were coming out of your mouth. You gathered all the strength you had left in your body and grabbed the mask. Pulling it up and throwing it on the floor. “I wanna look at you when I— Ah! c-cum!” you looked at Kento. His face was red and his bangs were sticking on his forehead. He looked so beautiful..

Kento smiled, caressing your face and leaning towards your face to press a soft kiss on your lips. The roughness that he showed earlier was gone. His normal, gentle self was back and you missed it. “Rub your clit for me baby.” you obeyed and reached down to rub on the small puffy bud. Your moans were getting louder. And the pace that you had set on your clit was getting slower. Nanami slapped your hand away and replaced your fingers with his again. “Kento! —ken I'm gonna–fuck!”

Your back was arching up. You gripped on nanami's hair and tried to pull away from his harsh thrusts.

“Cum.” thrust “For.” thrust “Me.” thrust

It hit you hard. Your walls hugged his cock and milked him. Your cum was seeping out of your hole. Nanami pulled out and stroked his cock a few times before his orgasm hit and poured all over your stomach and chest. He came down from his high like you did and laid down beside you. Putting an arm over your chest and nuzzling his face in your neck.

“You come up with good ideas my love”

[ladyshinga]

The saddest thing I've noticed in all the Acolyte whining (well ok the saddest is just the blatant bigotry, this is the second saddest) is the deeply incurious nature of Reaction culture. An incomplete and unfinished story has people SCREAMING in rage because of "plot holes" and "inconsistencies" which were, bear with me here... HINTS. They were HINTS. There was PLOT hidden in those "holes", you were SUPPOSED to notice something funky was going on. That's what HAPPENS in a STORY.

But when the culture is all about "well I need to IMMEDIATELY have a strong Reaction to things the SECOND they come out, therefore there is no time to bother with nuance or patience to see where a story goes before I call it out as a flaw"

If you wanna speedrun this sort of content, that one guy, what's his face... Cinema Sins? he'll do this for a full video with seemingly no self-awareness. He'll whine in the first 20 minutes of the film that there's a "plot hole" and then that "hole" is revealed to actually be on purpose and explained perfectly in the next 60 minutes of the film and he won't even BOTHER to edit out his own shortsightedness from his reaction video. Because he doesn't care. Because the point is never actual media analysis, it's JUST the dopamine rush of an IMMEDIATE Reaction. the immediate judgement. the cheap and easy laugh of "figuring out" where the creators fucked up.

Don't be that guy. Don't shriek about plot holes in unfinished stories. Just shut up and, like. Wait. Before you show your own ass to the whole world as some one who can't figure out media analysis beyond the most shallow possible interpretations. it's just a Reaction. and god are those boring.

[girlboybug]

Shades of Cool

“my baby lives in shades of cool, cold heart and hands of aptitude.”

or the one where joel can’t seem to stay away from you despite his efforts to. but it’s not like he tried very hard to begin with.

what’s playing 🎧 : shades of cool by lana del rey

pairing : joel miller x female!reader

word count : 9k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, creampie, breeding kink if u squint, oral f receiving, fingering, loss of virginity, virginity kink if u squint yet again, tummy bulge, unspecified age gap and joel kind of has a thing for it, unprotected sex, (pls wear a condom guys im just a mf on tumblr) multiple orgasms, a tad of overstimulation, allusions to male masturbation, dirty talk, pet names, mating press, prone bone, light dom/sub dynamics, reader def has some unresolved daddy issues mean!joel but theres some soft joel

TRIGGER WARNINGS : minor character death/reference to his death but he literally doesn't exist in the show i promise, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of guns, implied/references to sexual harassment

a/n : this is my first time uploading to tumblr, forgive me if my layout is funky lol, anyways pls enjoy <3 read the second part here

you swallowed hard when you saw joel making his way towards the alleyway you two routinely met up in. watching as he did his typical side to side glance, casual in presence but it was muscle memory for him to ensure the safety of his environment no matter it’s location or the mundaneness of it. 

you quite disliked the feeling that pricked your chest and quickly spread inside the cavity, overflowing up into your throat and drowning out any coherent thoughts in your mind whenever you saw joel. 

it was annoying. pathetic even. just a silly schoolgirl crush you hoped would go away in time. 

you put aside the fluttering feelings for later, and waved, catching his attention. he sent a curt nod, rubbing his palms together before pushing them into his denim pockets. “hey.” he greeted you, if you could really call it that. 

you took whatever you could get from him, so you smiled, parroting it back with a nervous politeness. 

“do you have the uh…” you trailed off, feeling embarrassed that you struggled to even verbalize what you were trading. 

he raised a brow, folding his arms over his chest, looking at you expectingly. “i got it. you got the rations?” he finished speaking for you and you nodded enthusiastically, hurriedly pulling out the thick wad of rations you worked your ass off for. 

he shut his eyes with exasperation for a few seconds before hovering his larger hand over the wad, miraculously dwarfing your own hand. “don’t wave it around kid, jesus,” he sighed, shaking his head while palming it and sliding it away into his back pocket. 

“sorry…” you muttered embarrassedly. 

he didn’t reply, and instead handed you a box, bright purple and pink and your gaze slowly rose up to his face with a slightly ajar mouth. “uh. joel.” you started, voice leading into an upward trail of confusion. 

“if i wanted tampons i could have easily gotten this myself.” you wanted to hide the slight irritation in your tone but he caught on to it, unfolding his arms to jab the top of the box with his index finger. “how about you open it smartass.” he instructed dryly, moving backward and refolding his arms. 

your eyes lingered on him tryingly for a few more seconds, huffing quietly to yourself before flipping the cardboard flap up. 

again. tampons. 

you tilted it towards him and he dragged his hand down his face tiredly. he dug his hand into the box, the tampons shoved to the sides, revealing a small pistol. 

your mouth fell open into a comical O shape, laughing in awe. “oh!” you giggled and joel stared at you blankly, already feeling a hankering for a straight shot of whiskey at the bright and early hour of 8:30am. 

“very creative.” you beamed and it seemed as though joel fought back a smile behind a glare. at least, you told yourself that. 

“just enough for gullible people.” he pushed at a button of yours, just a little, and you paused for a second, shooting him a playful glare. “whatever,” you exhaled through a quiet chuckle. 

“thank you joel, i appreciate the um. tampons, i was running low.” you played along with the bit and he rolled his eyes, nodding, already ready to go back home. 

“sure thing.” he was about to turn and walk out of the alleyway but something held him in his spot. 

he took in a deep inhale before making eye contact with you, rendering you back into your nervous state from when he first arrived. 

“why do you need a pistol? we’ve only ever traded for small things. why the sudden big order?” he has absolutely no clue why he’s asking you this, or rather, he has no idea why he’s letting himself ask this. 

he shouldn’t care. he doesn’t. 

you stiffened, straightening your back and holding the box to your stomach, hands cupping the bottom of it. “just to keep at my place. thought i’d feel safer with it.” you answered truthfully, making sure to not go further into detail. 

his squinted eyes stay on you for awhile, unsure of what you needed to feel safe from. “are you uh…in any trouble?” he asks and you feel a little excitement ignite in your lower belly. 

is he worried about you?

“no! no not at all, i just…i don’t know,” you try to laugh it off but the silence between you two just feels heavy instead. “why do you ask?” you question and he shrugged. 

“if you’re in trouble, i don’t need it somehow coming back to me. i got enough shit i need to worry about.” he answered and the bubble inside you popped and deflated almost immediately. 

“oh, well no need to worry about that. it’s nothing like that, you’ll be fine.” you decided to end the conversation there, a cold feeling of humiliation that prods at your shoulders and throat alerting you that it’s best to just walk away before you can say anything else that might make the situation more unbearable. 

“thanks joel.” you added, quickly making your way out the alleyway. “be careful with that thing.” he called out after you, and you feel the bubble slowly start to shamelessly inflate itself once more. 

maybe he does care. even if it’s just a little. 

—

you hid the box in the shoddy nightstand you had lugged up into your apartment from off the street one night, and exhaled lowly, pursing your lips. “this is good.” you stated to yourself. 

the whole reason why you wanted a gun, was kind of useless if you really put some actual thought into it. 

it really was just for the comfort of your mind, putting the nerves you had at ease. like a security blanket of sorts. 

fedra soldiers occasionally conduct inspections, making a mess of people’s homes to look for any contraband, firefly propaganda, weapons, anything that so much acts as an eyesore to them is grounds for permanent confiscation. 

there’s a specific solider that just makes you uncomfortable, makes your skin prickle up into sharp goosebumps and makes your stomach churn like dry gears rubbing up against each other. 

the way his eyes follow you around, rejoicing in his power over you and how you cowered away from him. 

they come in as pairs to inspect and even if they didn’t, he was still taller, stronger, heavily armed and trained and could kill you in front of a crowd of people and still face no consequences. so a singular witness wouldn't stop him from breaking the rules.

if anything, you’ve probably just put yourself in more danger carrying a weapon. but you felt that if you had it, you maybe had a fighting chance in case push came to shove. 

you collected yourself into your very depressing excuse of a bed, lifting the fraying crotched blanket over your body, pretending you were anything less than semi uncomfortable.

the next morning, you woke up with a slightly sore feeling that resided in just about every crevice of your body but you ignore it, as it’s a common thing to wake up to if you’ve got what basically feels like laying on a napkin as a bed, and using what feels like an even thinner napkin as a blanket. 

you readied yourself to participate in street clean up, since you had to take on more shifts than usual to make up for the hefty chunk of rations you gave to joel. 

—

a bandana resided around your nose, neatly but tightly tied behind your head, doing…definitely not enough to cover the stench of cleaning the sludge off the streets. 

"the fuck would i need coffee beans for asshole? hit me up when you’ve actually got good shit to trade.” you overheard two guys a few feet away from you bickering, your ears perking up at the mention of coffee beans. 

you remembered joel vaguely mentioning how he’d kill for a cup of coffee, and you agreed on that sentiment, even though you’ve never once had coffee.  the point being, he’d been out of coffee for awhile, unable to find anyone who has it, and you figured maybe scoring him a bag would be a nice sign of gratitude for the pistol. 

you pulled down your bandana, walking over to the guy once the other one walked off. “hi, um i didn’t mean to eavesdrop but i heard you have coffee beans? i’d be willing to trade for them.” 

“i don’t take kindly to nosy—“ he cut himself off mid sentence once he turned to look at you, his eyes dragging up and down your body and you wondered in that moment if it was worth the hassle of talking to this. thing. 

but then you thought of joel, and how maybe he’d smile at you, thank you with a tight bear hug and suddenly, it did all seem worth it. 

“yeah, yeah i’d definitely be happy to trade with you,” he grinned and you laughed, trying to hide your disgust with fake excitement. “great! what would you want for it? i have some spare shampoo bars, a pair of wool socks i was saving for winter, or—“ 

he cut you off this time, leaning into your space closer and you instinctively backed away. “i was thinking maybe something different.” he alluded to something that made cleaning up literal shit off the street seem a lot more pleasant. 

your face fell and you lifted up your bandana. “yeah, nevermind. thanks anyway.” 

you turned on your heel and he groaned, calling after you. “the socks…” he huffed, rubbing the side of his chin. “are they soft?” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. 

you tugged down the bandana again, smiling brightly. “very!” 

—

you scheduled another meet up with joel, excited to gift him the bag of coffee beans. 

you were slightly sad to let go of the socks, your feet always got so cold in the winter and the nights were already starting to increase in frigidness, but it’s okay, you could always find another pair of socks again, but you didn’t know if you’d have another chance to pleasantly surprise joel like this. 

against joel’s typical judgment, he said to just stop by his apartment, feeling too tired to lug himself down into the alleyway again. 

but all you heard from that was he trusted you enough into his personal space. which, as much as joel would deny it, is true. 

he could clearly envision you apologizing to a fly for so much as being in its way, so inviting you over posed as nowhere near a threat. 

you knocked at his door, hiding the bag behind your back before he opened it. the wind got knocked out of you once more at the sight of him. he was very much older than you, easily the age of a man who could be your father, but that didn’t erase any of his attractiveness. 

in the deepest part of your subconscious, you knew that that’s what added onto it. 

“hi!” you chirped and he stepped to the side, widening his door to let you in. “hi.” he repeated, drier but, not unhappily. 

“what’d you wanna trade for again?” he asked, his hand rubbing the side of his stubbly jaw, and you had to look away, knowing you’d just watch him in silence if you didn’t. 

“actually,” you hummed, nearly bursting at the seems with glee. he watched you curiously, unaware of the slight smile on his face as he watched you tip toe closer with your hand still behind your back. 

“i didn’t come by to trade. i got you a gift!” he rested his palms behind him on the small table, his broad shoulders seeming even broader now and you wanted to run your hands across the expanse of them. 

“a gift?” he asked, breaking you out of your trance. he sounded genuinely shocked, almost unable to believe you. “mhm!” you nodded, a smile still etched on your features. 

“close your eyes, and open your hands.” you instructed, and he tilted the side of his head to you, wordlessly saying really? 

you nudged your chin, motioning for him to listen, your way of replying with yes, really.

he eyed you before shaking his head, standing up straight and closing his eyes, his palms bared out for you, muttering a quiet, i have no idea why i’m listenin’ to you. 

you plopped the bag of coffee into his hands, sing songing a soft “now open!” 

he opened his eyes, his lips parting in awe. he laughed out of disbelief, and your heart soared with joy as you saw him smile, and widely at that. 

“kid…you…why? i mean, god, thank you, but why?” he asked and you shrugged, rocking back and forth on your heel to your toes. “take it as a thanks for my pist-i mean tampons.” you joked and he chuckled, shaking his head and putting the beans down onto the table. 

“well, thank you, that’s mighty kind of you.” he looked downward at you, and you looked back up at him, trying to memorize the way his lips were curled, the sweet lines by his eyes and the way he just seemed so happy by such a small act of kindness. 

“no biggie!” you replied, and he darted his eyes away for a moment before turning back to you. “do you know how to use your gun?” he asked and you felt your face grow hot with slight embarrassment. 

“uh. i mean you just aim and pull the trigger right?” you asked honestly and he blinked a few times before shaking his head. “okay so you don’t.” and you squinted at him. “i could teach you. get you some extra bullets too.” he remedied the half joking comment with his offer and you perked up. 

“yeah? you would?” you asked excitedly and he nodded. “‘course. you just went from tolerated, to slightly more tolerated in my book. so i’m gonna help you not accidentally shoot yourself in the foot.” 

you didn’t like how you actually felt a twinge of sadness at his obvious joke about only tolerating you. he was kidding, but sometimes it was hard to tell because he had the same monotone, slightly annoyed at everything everyone has to say, kind of voice. 

and you were a sensitive person, and even the most harmless jokes could manage to sting you. 

“well jeez aren’t you sweet.” you complimented with sarcasm. joel threw on his flannel, ignoring your comment. you stepped aside while he made his way to the door. 

“you comin?” he looked at you, opening the door behind him, waiting for you to follow. you turned around to look behind you stupidly, then back to him. “what?” you asked confusedly and he fought the urge to roll his eyes and take back his offer. 

“we’re gonna start now.” he inclined his head out the door, motioning for you to come along. and who were you to decline doing anything with joel. 

—

joel was here. in your apartment. in your space, in your air. he was sitting on your bed, the place where you’d occasionally, frequently shove your fingers into places you just knew joel would be able to reach with no effort. 

he ran his fingers over the barrel of the gun, drumming against its ridges and for a moment you felt a bit envious over the literal inanimate object. 

“cmere,” he patted the space next to him, waiting for you to be seated so he could get started. 

with wobbly legs you made your way to him, smoothing over your jeans in an attempt to secretly wipe away your clammy palms. 

“show me how you hold it.” he placed it in your hands and it felt foreign to the touch. it was heavier than you expected it to be but you tried to conceal your inexperience by holding it the way you’ve seen others handle their firearms. 

you pointed it at the door, pretending that soldier was in front of you, finger on the trigger and hands at the bottom of it, supporting your grasp. 

he observed your hold, a low hmm coming from the back of his throat. “not terrible.” he adjusted your hands, your skin latching onto his heat, claiming it as yours as his body hovered around your side. 

“how’s that feel?” he asked and you cleared your throat, blinking a few times and avoiding his close stare. “it uh, it feels better.” you answered and he clicked his tongue, nodding curtly to himself. 

“alright. now, when you run out of bullets, the magazine at the bottom might drop out but if it doesn’t, you’re gonna take it out and reload, you wanna be fast if you’re in the middle of, well whatever situations got you needing to pull out a gun.” there was a slight cadence of a joke in his gun lesson 101, and it made a giddy feeling return to your tummy. 

he reached in his back pocket, pulling out what you assumed he meant by magazine. 

he explained the logistics of your newly owned weapon, trying to use terms you’d be able to follow along with, not unaware of how you were watching and listening intently, hanging on to every word he spoke. 

you were too damn obvious. 

—

you saw more of joel after that, bumping into him in places you usually didn’t see him, yet seemingly excited every time you met. 

his aloof stare slowly turned softer when it landed on you, maybe it never changed at all but to you it definitely felt different. 

he swore it was you that had been following him, an air of playfulness in his accusations of you stalking him, but really it was him. 

he unable to admit to himself that he  wandered around the areas he knew you were usually found in, wanting to scold you for having such an easy routine to follow but he kept it to himself. 

he watched you walk beside him, taking in the sights of the town, wondering how you could possibly appreciate the hellhole that surrounded you all. 

“so how’s the coffee? any good?” you asked, turning back to look at him, feeling a hushed breath pause in your throat once you saw he was already looking at you. 

a peek of a smile ghosted over his face. “it’s good. i, i appreciate that you did that. i hope you didn’t have to trade too much for it.” guilt resided in him at the thought of you having to give more than you had just for coffee beans. he felt he wasn’t worth all that effort. 

you shook your head, laughing lightly at the memory of the trade. “no no don’t worry, just a pair of socks. they were these brown wool socks that were so soft, so i’d say it was a pretty fair trade.” 

“i’ll be on the look out for a pair like that then.” he was already figuring out who he could trade with to get you another pair of socks. “no it’s okay you don’t have to it’s-“

“hey,” his voice felt rich, calling your attention back to him. your chest went tight. “yeah?” you whispered back. 

“shut up. i’m gettin’ the socks.” there was a backbone of sternness in his lighthearted promise.

you sucked on your bottom lip through a grin before you spoke again.

“i have a confession.” you exhaled, feigning dramatics and he tilted his head towards you, watching you with worried eyes. “yeah?” 

“i lied. i’ve never had coffee before.” you lowered your head with faux shame and he gasped, shaking his head with disapproval. he paused for a moment, then turned around. 

you caught up with him, holding onto his arm, feeling hot at the taut feeling of his limb, and how he didn’t push you off. he just peered down at you, keeping you there with him. “jeez i didn’t think you’d take such offense to that,” you breathed out through a chuckle. 

“inexcusable. you’re tryin it when we get home.” the twang in his accent was something so attractive, and it only had you feeling more and more willing to do whatever he wanted. you’d drink acid if he asked of it from you in that deep southern drawl. 

you two walked back to his place, shedding a layer out of many, holding onto it as you trailed in behind him. 

he glanced over at you, then your coat. “set it down somewhere, you can have a seat.” he pointed at the round table and you quietly thanked him, hanging your coat over the back of the chair before sliding it out and sitting in it. 

“i remember you have a sweet tooth. damn near talked my head off about trading for a bag of hard candies a few months ago, so i reckon you’d like it sweet.” he mostly talked to himself when he said that, fondly remembering the way you rattled on about how you were craving for caramel drops. 

“you remember that?” you were just about swooning, unable to hide it even when joel walked back over to you, two mugs in each hand of his. “how could i not? you never let me forget it.” he set the mug down in front of you, sipping at his as he leaned back into the chair in front of you. 

you picked it up, hugging the warmth of it with your palm. you took a light sip, your eye shutting, a low quiet moan leaving your lips from around the mug once the taste landed on your tongue. 

joel stirred in his seat at the sound, busying himself with drinking from his cup to avoid making any kind of facial expressions. 

“joel,” you crooned and he felt weak. “you like it?” he asked, his lips still curled over the rim of his mug. “it’s so good, i understand why you like it so much.” 

“well, i don’t make it as sweet as that, but yeah, coffees good. not a lot of people agree.” he shrugged and you set your mug down in front of you. “can i taste yours?” 

he slid it to you and you lifted it, tasting it and almost immediately wanting to spit it out. you quickly gave it back to him, sipping the sweeter coffee to cleanse your offended palette. 

“yeah, that tastes like shit, i don’t know how you drink that.” you smacked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, the burnt taste not quite leaving you just yet. 

he rolled his eyes, taking a loud obnoxious slurp. “my tastebuds are just mature.” 

“mature for what? shit? once you hit a certain age do just you grow accustomed to crappy tasting things?” you were dipping into a more casual way of speaking to joel, causing his gaze that rested on you to turn into a view of amusement. 

“rich comin’ from the kid who still eats like she’s 5.” he rested his arm against the back of his chair, and you expired, feeling a bit defensive of being called a child. 

“i’m not a kid.” you muttered and he chuckled. “alright.” he agreed in sentiments but not in actuality. 

breaking the comfortable silence that filled the room you and joel shared, a loud bang rang from against the door. joel slid from out his chair, hurriedly pacing towards the door. 

before he could even open it, you already knew it was one of fedra’s soldiers. things were starting to feel a little too lax, it was only a matter of time until they came knocking down doors again. 

your throat went dry, stomach cinching with anxiety once he stepped inside, the same soldier that had you saving up your rations week after week to be able to afford the pistol from joel. 

his eyes flickered between you and joel, scoffing to himself. “what’s this?” he asked you, ignoring joel who stood right in front of him. 

“nothing.” you answered, intimidation and fear already prickling at your skin and racing down your spine. 

joel stood in front of you, shielding you away from him, and slowly, the fear lifted itself itself away from you, but not fully. not while he’s still here. 

“aren’t there usually two of you who do these searches?” joel questioned, watching as the solider jabbed at various things of joel’s with the tip of his rifle. 

“partners out sick. so y’all get the pleasure of havin just me.” he flashed an ugly grin at you, bending to the side to see your uncomfortable face behind joel’s back. 

he walked around, haphazardly lifting and tossing things about. 

“oh?” he bent down, squatting by joel’s bed. “what’s this?” he waved around a baggy full of white powder. joel stiffened, his nostrils flaring in anger. 

“that’s not mine and you know it.” and surprisingly it actually wasn’t. 

joel had just sold the last of his pills to a sad sap unable to sleep without them, and that was a month ago. the asshole was planting drugs on him. 

“this is not only grounds for confiscation but imprisonment. tough spot you’re in miller.” joel exhaled angrily from a quiet ragged breath. 

“unless,” he came up to you, pushing past joel to cup your chin. “she wants to, convince me why i shouldn’t take you down for this contraband.” you flinched from his touch but it only made him hold on tighter. 

joel snatched his wrist away, stepping back in front of you. “you don’t have to involve her. what do you want? rations, half of my next haul? what?” he gritted and the solider just laughed. 

“you think i don’t have easy access to all that? i want something you can’t easily trade for.” he leaned to the side, waving at you. 

joel pushed him backward, triggering the response of a rifle being shoved in his face. joel didn’t so much as waver, grabbing the neck of the firearm, pointing it away from him while his foot came and rammed down onto the front of his shin, successfully knocking him down with a loud wail of pain. 

it happened so fast all you could do was sit and watch, frozen in place as joel lost himself on top of the solider, pounding and pounding and pounding his fists in relentlessly, not stopping despite the ache trickling over across his knuckles. 

you heard a sick squelch followed by cracking noises and you knew that should’ve made you fear joel. it should’ve made you run out the door and never look back. but it did the opposite. you never wanted to stay more. 

you watched with wide pupils as he rose up from the beaten and bloodied solider, breathing hard and loud, stumbling upward to a leant stance, staring at the lifeless solider on his wood floors. 

he wiped his nose with the clean, unbloodied slate of his forearm, before dropping it back to his side to lean forward and spit over the body. 

he turned back to you, scanning your face for any hurt, fear or disgust. 

but there was none. 

before you could say anything, he spoke aloud his thoughts. “i gotta get rid of the body.” 

“do you need help?” you extended a hand willing to assist and joel shook his head a hard no. “you saw enough, you don’t need to see more. i’ll be back.” 

you stood up, pressing a hand to his chest, looking at him with watery eyes. he wanted to wipe them away from you, but he couldn’t. not with the blood that was already starting to cake under his nails. 

“joel i want to help.” you admitted, soft voice trembling and joel leaned forward, his face close to yours. “you should probably go sweetheart, you don’t need to get wrapped up further in this.” his words traveled along the coast of a gentle but solid whisper. 

“i don’t want to go.” your voice barely carrying itself loud enough as a reply, eyes following joel’s actions of walking away from you to roll up the soldier in a thin fraying carpet. 

“you should.” is all he said, walking out the door with a body dragging behind him. 

—

you went against any logical thought process whatsoever and stayed. you decided you’d make yourself useful, feeling as though the events that continually replayed in your head felt like your fault. 

you sat on your knees, scrubbing at the blood that had already set in the floors. 

you scrubbed until it hurt, and you kept going despite the fact. you dunked the scrubber into the bucket of soapy water turned brown, squeezing the excess onto the floor before rubbing it in. 

the door clicked open and your head whipped towards it, heart leaping in your chest once you saw joel stumble in. 

“hi.” you breathed and he looked at you with surprise. he saw the work you busied yourself with, locking the door before making his way to you. “what’re you doin’?” he asked gently, yet again in shock at how unabashedly kind you were to him. 

“didn’t want the blood just sitting here on your floors. ‘least i could do since it’s my fault that all happened.” you sniffled, feeling guilty at what had transpired. though the guilt was there, a sense of gratitude was even larger. 

he did that, for you. 

he bent down to catch your watery gaze. “no, no that was not your fault. just got a little carried away. ‘don’t want you thinkin’ that you had anything to do with my choices, okay?” he leaned to the side, catching your eyes that were avoiding his. “okay?” he repeated, waiting for you to say it back to him. 

“okay.” you mouthed just below a whisper. he took the bucket and the scrubber, walking to the sink. you of course, trailed behind him. 

he lifted his sleeves, turning on the faucet to rinse off the dried blood on his hands. 

he picked at under his nails, scraping the blood off wherever he saw it. which was, every inch of his hands. 

his body faced back to you, his now cleaned hands picking up yours, seeing specks of blood and dirt splattered on your hands from cleaning his floor. 

he washed you clean, and all you could do was admire him. how gentle he was taking care of you. he rinsed your skin clear of blood, drying you up and letting your hands rest back to your sides. 

“i’m sorry you had to see that.” he apologized, feeling ashamed of how little he was in control of his anger in that moment. 

you shook your head, hands shakily resting on his chest. “no, i don’t want you to be sorry.” you murmured, eyes landing on his lips. you swallowed back any fears that held you back from showing your affections any longer. 

you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his. with a pleasant surprise, he kissed back, no hesitation in his actions. his hold fell to your waist, squeezing, pulling you into him. 

he took in your air, and you gave it to him, happily, willing to offer it in all its abundance. your hand rose to his cheek, palm resting over his beard. his thumb rested on your chin, rubbing it softly. 

he forced himself to pull away, his hands selfishly unable to remove themselves from your waist. “sweetheart this isn’t a good idea. you’re too young, and i’m not a good man. i think i just showed you that.” he tried to warn you, hushed and gently, with honest intentions of keeping you away from something you’d regret being involved with. 

but the only thing you’d regret is never being with him. 

“i’m not, and i don’t care what you do joel, i want you, all of you, want you so bad,” you all but whimpered, trying to press yourself against him more. 

he was a greedy man at heart, pulling you back up for a harder kiss. there was a hot hunger that was electric between you two, a burning ignition that pulled you two in, tying an in separable twine amidst your bodies. but neither of you ever had any intentions of undoing it anyways. 

he held the side of your cheek, the other traveling from your lower back to your ass, squeezing it hard, using his grip to pull you in closer, grinding up against you right there. 

you were so needy for him that it rattled your bones. a wet clicking noise elicited from your mouths, tongues brushing up together messily. your chin dribbling with saliva. 

you moaned in his mouth, feeling the hand that was on your cheek move to hold you by the back of your head, his tilting to kiss you deeper. 

he untangled your lips, keeping himself not even an inch away, just to share the breath between you two. your tongue flicked over his lips, biting down on the bottom one before lurching forward for him once more. 

he groaned in your mouth, lifting his hand to come down and spank your ass. you whined, back arching and crotch brushing up against his. 

you two stumbled towards his bed, your back falling into the mattress. he crawled on top of you, ridding himself of his boots and you of yours. 

his knee rested on one side of your hip, the other coming between your thighs. your chest rose up into his, your back lifting off the sheets and hands coming up to paw at his chest. 

without any reservations, you rubbed against his knee, struggling to kiss him back. “feel good little girl?” he sounded gruff, strained voice trying it’s best to not moan at the way your wet little cunt managed to create a wet spot on his knee. 

“so good joel,” you gaped, kissing his neck desperately. 

“shouldn’t be touchin’ you like this, sweet little thing like you gettin handled by someone like me,” he breathed through a series of heavy pants, his hands wandering all along your sides, your hips, your thighs. 

“don’t want anyone else but you.” you whimpered truthfully, holding his wrist and guiding his hand to your chest, right above your heart. you let it drift to the left, shuddering when he squeezed your breast. 

he kissed your pulse, teeth baring out against it. he rested his hand on your lower belly, rubbing the skin under your tank top. “can i touch you?” he whispered, his beard tickling the space just below your ear. 

you nodded, running your hands all along his strong back. “please,” you bucked your hips upward, begging with not only your words but your body. 

he exhaled out a quiet chuckle, fingers working to undo your jeans, tugging them down until they were forgotten on the floor. 

he dipped down beneath your underwear, his cock throbbing in his boxers at how wet you were. so soaked it was pathetic. he hadn’t let his hand drift down to the sweet place between those thighs of yours til then, and yet you were as wet as if he had his tongue pressed up against you. 

actually, that’s not a bad idea.

he circled around your clit, watching as you revealed in it, his fingers being thicker than yours, making the sensation all the more intense. 

“joel,” you repeated his name, voice wavering in breathy gasps, his fingers rolling the sensitive button of yours. he slipped a finger inside you, eyes peering up and watching as your back rose just a little, hips pressuring downward and further onto his finger, taking him all in. 

“so soft,” he murmured, lowering himself to press a kiss to your hip. he rolled his hips into the mattress, trying ease the pressure building up beneath his jeans. 

he was too turned on, this young pretty girl he’s had his eye on for a year was sprawled in his bed, soft and soaked cunt all ready and pliable just for him and him alone. 

he could die a happy man. 

his lips encircled your clit, tongue drawing around it while he pressed into a familiar spongy spot within you. 

you sucked in a sharp gasp, the sweet sound turning into a high pitched whine. “please,” you sobbed, hands flying down to keep his head in place. 

he fucked you with his fingers, curling right up against the spot that was making you dizzy, his tongue and lips working perfectly on your little clit. 

tears flowed down your face and on his pillow, your hand coming up to your mouth trying to lessen the volume of your cries. 

“j-joel, please i,” unable to formulate any sentences, you just gave up, giving in to your moans. 

the way you squeezed around his fingers, sucking him with greed and need, made him wonder how that’d feel around his cock when he’d get to finally shove it in you. 

he growled at the thought, sucking hard around your clit. you whimpered, pushing down onto his tongue more. 

“s’too much, i cant, i,” your head rolled around his pillow, his scent, his touch, his tongue suffocating you in the most heavenly way possible. 

you squirmed in his hold, unable to escape his grip, unable to escape the way his tongue pressed flat and hard up on your clit. his beard brushed up against your thighs, pulling a giggly moan from you. 

“perfect little pussy,” he grunted, kissing your clit before dragging his tongue slowly, up and down languidly. 

he rested his forearm over your lower tummy, pressing hard and feeling the corner of his lips perk at the way you gasped, shuddering loudly and trembling in his mouth at the action. 

“joel, i think i’m—ooh,” you spoke tearfully, poor little throat already getting hoarse from crying out his name. 

“feels good huh baby,” that little twang in his deep voice curled off his words just right. all you could do was whimper a shaky sogood joel s’good. 

his finger pressed up against that spot inside you, his tongue on your clit being the sweetest cherry on top of the tooth rotting sundae. 

you were cumming, hiccuping his name unashamedly. your plush thighs coming around to cage him in, to which he paid no mind to, if anything it excited him, his rough hands gripping your ass and pulling you deeper into his mouth. 

the wind up deep inside you finally released, flickering flashes of burning hot lights spread across your limbs, slowly fizzling out as you went limp in his bed. 

he didn’t let up however, his tongue grown addicted to the way your perfect clit felt on the wet muscle. 

you whimpered, struggling to push him away from your cunt. it was just too good and he hadn’t had enough yet. 

“joel n-no more s’too much,” you pleaded weakly, and he took slight pity, pressing one last kiss before rising back up to you. 

he pressed his fingers to your lips, groaning quietly with approval at the way you took them in with no verbal orders needed. 

you were so good for him, his sweet little girl. 

he pulled them out, resting on your plump bottom lip before moving it out the way to kiss you. you moaned deeply into his mouth, bringing your arms around him, hands traveling up to his hair. 

his salt and peppered hair felt soft, weaved through your gentle fingers. you lightly tugged on it, feeling mischief in your veins at the ministration. he growled, biting down on your lip and laughing as you yelped. 

he held your jaw, pressing hard kisses all along your face, speaking stilly, his inflection so deep, so masculine, so old and wise, had you hypnotized, his words that were reserved for your ears only, were something you’d cradle to yourself forever. 

“told myself i wouldn’t crack, i wouldn’t have you like this, you’re too young, you don’t know what you want, but fuck,” he dragged his fingers up your folds, chuckling to himself at the way you whimpered, curling into his touch immediately. 

“now that i got you, ‘fraid i can’t let you go sweetheart. i’m a selfish man at heart.” he admitted, kissing your jaw. you just about exploded in that moment. you had no idea he felt the same for you as you did him, and it was the most powerful, enlightening feeling you’ve ever felt. 

“i’m selfish too,” you whispered back, puckering your lips to kiss him. “didn’t let anyone else touch me but you. just wanted you,” you looked up at him from under your eyelashes, unaware to how that little admission made the precum collecting at his tip leak out even more. 

his grasp on your hip tightened, squeezing it as he buried his face in your neck. “fuck baby, gonna give this old man a heart attack sayin’ things like that.” 

your shaky hands went for his belt, tugging on it with need. “want you joel, please?” you begged, lips pressed to his ear. he didn’t need to be begged any more, he undid his belt with one hand, pulling it off his waist, letting it join the pile of your discarded jeans and boots. 

before he could take himself out, your hands found themselves under his flannel, desperate and anxious to see what he’s been concealing away from you. “off, please,” and he wanted to say no, feeling not as proud in his physique as he once was about 20 years ago. 

“nothin special to see baby,” he countered and you shook your head. “it’s you. it’s special to me.” you suspired airily, already feeling your tummy get tight at the thought of him hovering above you, shirtless. 

he took in a deep breath, letting you unbutton his flannel. 

you undid each button, trying your best to not rip them clean off despite your rushing efforts. you slid it off his body, exhaling in awe at the sight in front of you. 

you sucked on your bottom lip, hands traveling across his broad shoulders, fingers tracing his collarbones, dragging around the scarred areas from past wounds, admiring the few freckles on his chest that trail up to his shoulders. 

he watched you, never having felt so admired before. “enjoyin’ yourself baby?” he teased, his thumb rubbing over your chin. 

“mhm,” you nodded, not caring how it looked to be gawking at him. 

you could feel the muscle from the layer of life and age over his stomach, your eyes then falling to the bulge of his biceps, instantly growing obsessed, squeezing at the muscles. 

“you’re so beautiful joel.” you spoke with such true sincerity and he tittered quietly, shaking his head. “thank you baby,” 

your wandering hands finally fell to his jeans, undoing the button and zipper, eager to see what else he’d been keeping away from you. 

he let you, more than ready to feel your touch in the place he craved the most. he was tired of having to fuck his calloused fist, trying hard to pretend it was your cute hand touching him. 

you pulled him out, feeling your jaw go slack at the length of it all. “jesus joel,” you swallowed hard, steadily jerking him off, feeling slightly unsure if you’re doing it right. you were telling the truth, when you said you’d never let anyone touch you, too hopelessly in love with joel to even imagine allowing anyone to see you in the way he’s got you. 

he grunted, unintentionally bucking his hips into the tunnel of your hand. he was thick, heavy in your clutch, veins running along the side of it, his tip round and fat, almost red with droplets of precum leaking out. 

“gonna show you what those little boys could never give you,” he promised, and you believed him, gazing at the way he reluctantly pulled away from your hold, knowing if he let you stroke him any longer he’d cum all over your hand. 

he circled your clit with the head of his cock, shuddering a semblance of a breathy moan at the sensation. “gonna be a bit of a stretch baby, tell me if it’s too much okay? i’ll try to go slow.” he kissed his promises of gentleness into your temple. 

he inched in, hands around either side of your head, foreheads pushed together while your mouth fell open, sucking in all the air in the room. the stretch was very unfamiliar, but not unwelcomed.

you held onto his shoulders for support, grasping onto them tightly, pretty plump trembling lips crying out moans that would replay in joel’s head on lonely nights. you felt fuller than you ever have before joel was even fully inside you. 

he was nudging up against spots in you that you had no idea could feel so good, and if he angled his hips any higher, the fat head of his cock would be kissing your cervix. 

“can barely fit myself in ya’ baby,” he groaned, head falling from your forehead to bury itself in your neck, kissing your hot skin to try to calm him down before he lost control and rammed himself inside you. 

your calves rested on his hips, whimpering while trying to lift yourself up in an attempt to get him to push himself further in. 

“more joel, please?” your pleas were accompanied by sponged kisses just below his ear. “gonna take it all for me baby?” he questioned you, inching in just that much deeper, and you shut your eyes, nails already beginning to crescent themselves in his back. “mhm, gonna take it all,” you swore, more than eager to have him fully within you, as close as could be. 

he jutted his hips in, knocking the wind out of you. you bit down on his shoulder, whining a drool filled mess with the way he started to fuck you, rough hardened hands molding softly around the curves of your waist. 

he was bathing in the way your little cunt took him in, squeezing around him so good just like he knew you would. he took his time, rocking into you in and out, holding your shaking body close to him. 

you could feel every ridge and vein in you, hooked onto the way he filled you up, stretching you beyond belief, making you bounce upward with every movement. 

his hands slid down over the smooth skin of your thighs, widening them further open before pushing them up, growing impatient, achingly hungry to be deeper in you. you struggled for air at his fast actions, eyes immediately rolling back at the way he began to fuck into you. 

“can’t help myself, m’sorry baby, pussy’s too good, shit,” a gruff sigh of relief leaving his mouth at the way you took him in. you didn’t care, you were thrilled to take whatever he gave you, and however hard he saw fit. 

“feels s’good, feel so full,” you cried, translucent tears free falling, the aggressive pistons of his hips causing your swollen clit to ache, begging to be touched. 

“feel me right here huh baby?” he rubbed over the bulge in your tummy and you squealed, wriggling away from the overwhelming stimulation. “ha,” you strung out, arching up into him. 

“yeah, you do,” he taunted breathlessly, loving how you were a wreck beneath him. “in so deep joel,” you mumbled against his shoulder and he kissed your hair, nodding knowingly. “i know babygirl but you’re takin me so well,” he praised, feeling so proud of his sweet girl taking his cock like a pro. 

“never gonna let anyone see you like this?” he pressed deep there, corners of his lips curling when you weep, squeezing at his biceps. “never gonna let anyone have you like this?” you shook your head, sobbing a string of no joel no, never, just you.

“perfect, tight fuckin’ cunt is all for me, aint sharin’ with no one,” he held you by the back of your thighs even further, stressing how serious he was, set on fucking himself into your soaked hole until there was a permanent shape of him within you. a shape no man could ever fit into. 

sobs of uncontrollable pleasure were the only thing you could feel in your veins, pumping your blood full of dopamine. his balls tightened, hitting the fullness of your ass, and he let himself grow sporadic, let himself take you. his fingers found your desperate clit, chuckling to himself when you croon tearfully, thanking him pathetically for touching you. 

“can i cum, please?” your requests only made him twitch inside you, his sweet girl was so polite. “go ahead baby, let it out,” he leaned down to kiss you, swallowing up your moans and cries. 

your body jerked under him, the tight vice of your cunt gripping onto him while he rubbed over your clit, pulling out the second wave of an orgasm from you. 

you broke apart from his lips, still just a breadth of a gasp away from them, brushing up against the ghost of a kiss as you pressed your forehead to his, sobbing his name while your body trembled from how hard you were cumming.  

“shit,” he slammed a hand against the wall above your head, shoving himself impossibly further in you, your legs shaking on either side of him. “good fuckin’ girl, squeezing me so goddamn good,” he fucked you through your orgasm, kneading over your breasts, groping at them and pinching at your pebbling nipples. 

you fell limp, letting yourself drown in the unraveling lengths of your climax. 

“gonna cum baby, where d’you want it?” he asked, feeling his lower stomach start to tighten up. “inside, wanna feel all of you,” you whined, kissing all along his shoulder and collarbones, messy and ravenous. 

his face fell to the crook of your neck, biting down on your soft flesh when he came, impaling you once, twice, ending it with one last hard thrust as he came in you, pumping you full of his cum. 

he didn't feel himself soften inside you, but with each of the passing minutes he decided he’d better pull out then or else he’d never leave. you winced from the removal, arms coming around to hold him with a clinginess.

he collapsed on top of you, and you sighed contently, the full weight of him resting on you could’ve honestly sent you into the deepest nap you’d ever have.  

you felt his cock, still hardened on your thigh. with sleepy eyes you looked up at him, lips on his stubbly jaw when you spoke. "you're still hard," you murmured. his fingers drew up and down your spine, and you shivered, arching yourself into him.

"that's okay, it'll go down soon." his throat got tight when he felt you wrap your hand around him once more. "we don't...have to ignore it." you trailed off, bitten lips pressing delicate kisses laced with ulterior motives into his tanned skin.

you wanted joel to use you as many times as he wanted to, a new compulsion flowing rampantly in your veins. now that you had finally gotten a taste of joel, you wanted to gorge yourself on him.

"you sure you can take it?" he asked through a hushed breath of arousal. you nodded, kissing at his lips with need.

he didn't need to be told twice, he repositioned you, letting you fall back onto his pillow with him hovering above you. he rolled you onto your stomach, holding you by your hip to lift you just enough for him to shove his flannel right against your cunt.

his rough palms encased your ass, groping at the thick flesh. he dipped down, spreading your ass and watching as his cum poured out of you. he groaned quietly to himself. you whimpered, turning to look over your shoulder as joel pushed his fingers inside, shoving his cum back into you. your chin dropped, face falling back into his pillow when he pumped his fingers inside you, chuckling darkly to himself at the way your ass squirmed against him.

every little swivel your hips made was met with friction from his flannel on your clit. the hem of it just so happened to be pressed right there. he slapped his cock over on your ass, exhaling loudly at the way it jiggled from his actions.

he aligned himself once more with your little hole, pushing himself in with ease due to the slick left from a mixture of his cum and yours. you whined, hands flying backward, desperate for any solace from his hands in yours. he held your wrists at the small of your back with one hand, the other supporting his weight to lean forward when he pushed himself all the way inside you. you cried out, his name falling out of your mouth like a mantra, your legs trembling beneath him.

he was in you so much deeper this way, stretching you out more than you thought he already could. his hips snapped up against your  ass, fully within you and hitting every single tingly spot inside you along the way.

you were already out of breath, your lungs and brain vacant of anything except for him, for joel. "feel you in my tummy," you hiccuped, tilting your head to look at him through teary eyes. he breathed out a lazy, cocky laugh, moving forward to kiss your forehead, unintentionally shoving his cock in even deeper, feeling a sense of pride at the way you gasped and whimpered at the deep intrusion.

"i know huh baby?" he chuckled in your ear, and you shivered, feeling your face grow warm from how flustered he made you feel. he was so dirty, any filters he once had were gone, the tight grip your cunt had on his cock made him downright ruthless.

he pressed his hands at your lower back, letting yours fall free to cling onto his sheets. he held you down that way, fucking into you with a newfound source of energy, his grey hairs falling over his forehead, sweat glistening over the ripples of muscles along his biceps and abdomen, his whole being going into pounding himself into you.

he wanted you to be so full of him that everyone would know it just by looking at you. the possessiveness he tried to suppress for so long had come out, and he wasn't sure if he could go back to hiding it again. but that wasn't on his mind, not when you were clenching around him, sobbing his name loud enough for everyone outside to hear.

his grunting fell to your ears, it was near pornographic, including the way you bounced with each and every thrust of his, just watching it made his chest get tight.

he needed you closer.

he pulled you back up from under your arms, keeping you flush against his chest while he continued fucking you. you were growing limp, body worn out from the rigor he put you through. but he held onto you, keeping you in his arms. his arm went under your tits, a sneaky hand coming up and groping at one, pinching at the nipple.

he buried his face in your neck, filling your ear with the low growl of his groans. "such a good girl, letting me fuck you like this, but i think you like it, and you know what else?," he drew in a heavy breath, "i think you like being fucked like a little ragdoll," you couldn't answer, he was right, but you could hardly focus on any words, his cock rendering you a teary eyed moaning mess.

"can't even respond when spoken to," he slowed the roll of his hips, hitting you in deep and slow, letting you hear him instead of the loud wet rhythm of your cunt being fucked into. "that's okay, i'll still take care of you," he chuckled, returning back to his rough pace.

"so good, make me feel so good joel," you managed to finally cry out in a series of strewn moans. his fingers trailed themselves down to your clit, rubbing in tight little circles. " i know baby, cum for me, show me how good i make you feel."

you wriggled around in his hold, your third orgasm of the night was thick in heft, a heavy wave of intense stimulation clearing your vision and leaving a white glittering hue instead. you felt joel everywhere, from the way he was buried in your cunt, to the way his hips were clasped over the curve of your ass, fitting into you like a puzzle piece.

the fervent circles being drawn over your clit was the thing that pushed you over, your head falling backward onto his shoulder, his turn to be serenaded by a string of your pretty moans. "good babygirl, did so good for me." he cooed in your ear, pressing a kiss behind it. "thank you," you meekly replied in a breathless voice.

you were the weakest you've ever felt, your poor spent body still being held upright as joel chased down his own orgasm. "gonna let me cum in you again baby? want more of it?" he panted in your ears. "please, want it joel, please,"

he gripped onto your hips, feeling his own stutter, before he pushed in deeply, stilling inside as he came in thick ropes. he finally softened, slowly pulling out of you. you winced again at the loss, feeling suddenly cold and empty. you collapsed on his bed, reaching out for him.

he laid beside you, pulling your leg up and over his waist, running a hand up the expanse of your thigh. your eyes fell shut tiredly, enjoying the comfortable sound of the two of you trying to catch your breaths.

a part of you was worried he was going to break the silence, afraid he'd call the whole thing a mistake, and lecture you on how he isn't the type of man who does relationships. you knew all of that, you just hoped he wouldn't say it and just let you soak in the moment.

almost nervously, his hand came to dance across your cheekbone softly, wanting to memorize the way your skin felt to his. "do you regret that?" he murmured and you opened your eyes, shocked at the question.

you leaned into his hand, curling your own over his. "no, never joel, why would you ask that?"

he sighed, scooting closer to you. "I'm not a good man, sweetheart, i'm giving you a chance to leave." he spoke above an octave of silence. you frowned, shaking your head. "i don't care about anything that you've done in the past or what you'll do in the future. i just...want to be here, with you, in any way you'll let me." you admitted, wishing you could say the one thing you've been harboring for a year, but you knew you needed to keep that to yourself just a little longer.

"if i had a bigger conscious i wouldn't let you," his hands pulled you into the hold of his arm that came over your waist. "lucky for me then that you're not the good man you claim to be." you whispered, the scent of coffee on your breath enveloping his senses, and in that moment, he had a realization.

he thought about how nice, how domestic it would be to wake up and share a cup of coffee with you every morning, before you had to face the day, at least you could share a moment of peace together.

"yeah," a trace of a smile grew over his lips. "you're right. i'm not." he rolled on top of you, cupping your cheeks in his large palms. "you're makin' an unwise choice little girl," a quiet rumble rested on your lips.

your arms came around his shoulders and you sighed a half laugh. "i know. i don't care."

[py-dreamer]

Macaque is big spoon

Lol the old men be snoozin and snugglin

(I was about to say sleeping but my mind is too dirty for that unfortunately-)

Y'wanna know why he big spoon?

The sun and moon thingy they have going on and...

Ehh, ehh? Y'see what I did there?

I hate fabric so god damn much.

WHY CAN'T YOU BEHAVE AND STAY STILL GODDAMN.

WHY MUST YOU CREASE AND HAVE LAYERS?!!? WHY CAN'T YOU BE SIMPLE AND FLAT

SAME WITH MACACA'S FUR.

WHY ARE YOU BLACK?!! HOW DO I RENDER YOU

TO QUOTE MY PAST SELF: "his true evil power is how hard he can be to draw"

LIKE MY DUDE. HOWWWWW.

Regardless, I'm still really happy with how the drawing came out like the lighting and stuff (just don't look at the fabric-)

Wukong couldn't give less than a flying f*ck if his pajamas matched. Like he's at home, let him be as much of a fashion disaster as he wants!

Heck, back in his day, he was prancing with a leaf skirt and that was acceptable, let the monkey be damnit.

But he would own something very funky like those peach shorts but specifically wear them on break days or in private

(Mac definitely made an inappropriate joke bout it; he has a mark you could read the king's fortune off of, on his right cheek-)

Mac loves his clouds cloudy king so sure, slap them on his pants I think he'd have those long fluffy or silky pajama pants and he like has a couple he switches out for every now and them.

Wukong struck me as a big shirt, short shorts guy

and Mac'doodles as a small shirt, big pants

On a more angsty note, after death I think he'd be a lot colder like its harder to generate body heat naturally so he'd be a lot more cuddly with his toasted marshmallow king cause he was literally toasty fried for 49 days in heaven (49 earth years if 1 year in heaven is a year belief is true)

I was really debating if they'd be in a tree like normal monkeys or in the stone palace cause like that's a whole thing.

Wukong is not only a king in name, he's got riches and a whole ass stone mansion, I want my boi to one day overcome his guilt and indesire for self care and move into the big boi house with his husbando...one day.

But until then, a girl can dream.

Cause come on, that'd be cool. I understand it'd feel real lonely without the stalwart generals and brotherhood but like he has new company and rekindling with his warrior might help with that.

I also think they'd rather sleep in a cozy lil alclove or like the beds in historical c-dramas that are kinda built in and they build a mini nest of sorts.

I was going to draw the monkeys but tbh, just wasn't feelin it...

Also wanted their tails to make a heart but the lil pointy bit always bugs me so I tried to make it into a more plausible scenario

And irl updates, I have been like formally rehearsing for a performance all week (as in a play) and practicing all day, just watched the 1st cast do it and its my turn tomorrow so wish me luck!

(btw I'm working with young kids, like 8-12 young and they all congregated around me when they saw me drawing like I was a glorified babysitter

And the amount of times I had to put the message on Mac's shirt on a different layer and hide it like bruh. The kids are lovely and all and I'd be happy to show my work but as you can see...not all of my works are...100% PG)

(pls reblog and feedback and stuff, I worked hard on this plss I beg...)

[lifemod17]

thoughts on 'Unaired EP'

IN THIS ESSAY I WILL-

below the cut in case you don't want spoilers <3

Nobody's Soldier

THE FUCKIN FALSETTO IS DRIVING ME INSANE ITS LIKE HE LACED THIS SONG WITH CRACK

"Benzos and gasoline" line is WILD (it is so hot for no reason wtf Andrew)

the little break that happens at 1:43 with. i don't even know what that is? like a sort of distorted / reverbed guitar bend / riff? either way, LOVE THAT.

also lets give it up one time for the organ, that is SO GNARLY, YOU CANNOT DENY IT!!!

hearing the live version vs. this recorded one is different, I literally went "OMFG WHAT IS THIS PART" starting at 2:53 when he gets all whisper-y WHY IS IT SO HOT

Listen man, I am a sucker for a good pause, and that pause after the bridge has me UNWELL.

SLOWING IT DOWN for the ending will never not be iconic. you don't see that happening a lot!

the intake of breath on the outro??!! tumblr user lifemod17 is NOT FARING WELL

July

so full of hope and promise and really just about having that thing or that someone to look forward to. The definition of "postpone that funeral"

THE SYNTHS??? FORGIVE HIM FATHER FOR HE HAS SYNTH!!!

"JUST KNOWING THAT'S GETTING ME THROUGH"?!?!?!? I wanna throw up. that is a Tonee-ass line. yeah 'July' is DEFINITELY taking the crown. This is my favorite from the EP.

i WAS right! he says 'prada' because it just made so much sense with the 'wore me out' line.

the whole second half had me in SHAMBLES. the lyrics were already insane but also throw in his soft voice mixed with the FUNKY & GROOVY beat?? I fear it is so over for me (I was genuinely screaming into a pillow and needed to sit down even though I was already sat and also I didn't know what to do with my person so I was just laying there and looking up at the ceiling while fighting off tears. I was SHOOK.)

It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy and makes me want to roll downhill a field and pick flowers to give to strangers

Have I mentioned the pen game? Because it is on level 9000. His pen was on fire when he has writing this

B A S S O U T R O GOT ME ACTING TF UP

That You Are

I was not expecting the lyrics to be "that I'd be anywhere that you are". im sorry but that is devastatingly beautiful and rips my heart out brb sobbing

my wig quietly and peacefully ascended from my head.

it's a lot more raw, production wise. the vocals aren't super clean, but I actually really like it this way!!! it makes the song that much more precious, gentle, intimate

Bedouine's vocals NEVER DISAPPOINTS!! She always has a way of transporting you with her music- makes you feel like you're floating above water

I needed to sautee the yearning for this one, its so pretty but hits you right in the feels

The fact that this is speculated to be the contender for the spot of 'I, Carrion (Icarian)' I'M GONNA CRY AGAIN Andrew please do an EP breakdown cuz I need to know!

that little instrumental interlude towards the bridge is so lovely and the entire song really! I think they did a good job of splitting the vibe 50/50 <- I say this because I listen to Bedouine a lot and the vibe of her songs is definitely here. it just really shows that they both wrote this together. its not a feature, its a collab

We're all gonna cry and then afterwards we're all gonna hug cuz this song just inflicted so much emotional damage upon all of us

[buzzcutlip]

Cracks and Gaps - The Cat Shrine (part III) Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Explicit 8539 words

A/N: This chapter is a bit longer than I expected but it's also packed with stuff that needs to be said and done. Plus! I believe this part offers all we've been waiting for iykwim

THE CAT SHRINE "Carmen!" You snap your fingers next to his ear.

"Yeah," he replies, blue eyes melting into yours like ice daggers.

"You're not concentrating," you accuse, huffing.

"I am!"

"You're so not."

Shaking your head, you put your phone down, tired of trying to show the chef the progress The Bear has made in its social media presence. You don’t think it’s important for him to know all the details, but he should be fully informed.

"You haven’t even downloaded Instagram, have you?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

"Uhm…" Carmen shifts uncomfortably, guilt written all over his face.

"I knew it!" you exclaim. Although you want to be strict, wanting him to know you take your work seriously and wanting him to acknowledge it, you start laughing when you see the long face he’s pulling. He looks like a dog caught peeing on the rug.

"What’re you laughing at?" Carmen asks sullenly.

You shake your head. "Nothin'," but you still snicker. You like teasing him a little.

When you calm down, you take a sip of your soda from the funky Superdawg cup and take a deep breath. The parking lot offers no shade, and there’s sweat gathering at your hairline. You watch the two mascots—Laurie and Flaurie, sausages perched on the roof of the drive-in. Thousands of people must have done the exact same thing since this spot opened in the '50s.

"Do you think Nat really wants me at Pete’s birthday?" you ask, your face serious. From Carmen's expression, you can tell he appreciates the change.

"I think so," he affirms. "She wouldn’t have asked otherwise."

"She’s too nice. She knows I would find out about it eventually," you muse aloud. "Like, that would be awkward… I hope it’s not only 'cause of the interview and stuff."

Carmen lights a cigarette, shaking his head. "Bullshit." He always waits to smoke until no one around is eating.

You shrug, faking nonchalance, but the idea of Natalie inviting you out of obligation makes you feel sick to your stomach. You don’t need favors or fawning over.

Carmen blows the blue smoke in the opposite direction from you. "She likes you."

The car hood is hot under your butt, and your cutoff denim shorts aren’t doing much to protect your skin. You shimmy uncomfortably, hissing.

Next to you, Carmen looks down at you, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"It’s hot," you whine, trying to tug the shorts lower.

"You okay?" Carmen checks.

"I’m fine," you sigh. "I’m glad to be baking my ass on metal, actually," you say, picking the last bits of caramelized onion from the paper tray. "I watched The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo yesterday. Listened to way too much of Ethel Cain…"

Carmen keeps looking at you, clearly not following.

"'s dark stuff," you sigh again, being pretty dramatic just for effect. You definitely don’t feel too affected by Nordic crime books or songs about escaping a cult and cannibalism. It takes you somewhere else, mentally. Not a bad place, necessarily.

"Uhm—hopefully the hot dog’s cheered you up?" Carmen asks, popping a fry into his mouth, then wiping his hand with the back of his tattooed fingers. They’re long and graceful, the nail beds clean with minimal hangnails. You want to lick them clean.

You give him a smile. A genuine one. "Yep."

Not just the hot dog.

Carmen’s brows furrow a bit as he glances at you, a small smile playing on his lips despite himself. "You’re hard to read sometimes. Like—hm—I don’t know if you’re joking or not."

"You say that like it’s a bad thing," you tease, giving him a playful nudge. His hand steadies itself on the hood as the sun glints off it, the Chicago heat thick in the air around you.

"It’s not," Carmen says, his tone softer now. "It feels more genuine. Authentic. It’s kinda... nice."

You raise an eyebrow, amused by his awkward sincerity. "Kinda?"

Carmen chuckles, shaking his head as if embarrassed by the admission. "Fine. It’s nice."

You smirk, pleased with yourself for drawing him out of his usual seriousness.

"Nat wouldn’t have invited you if she didn’t want you there, you know," Carmen says, circling back to your earlier worry.

"I guess," you reply, still a bit skeptical. "Just don’t wanna be somewhere I don’t really belong."

Carmen’s gaze hardens a little, a quiet determination settling in his voice. "You do belong."

You meet his eyes, surprised at the firmness in his words. For all his hesitation and self-doubt, Carmen has a way of saying the simplest things with absolute certainty when he means it.

"Okay," you reply quietly.

—

In the late afternoon, you arrive at Pete and Natalie’s house. The sunlight’s casting a warm glow over the tree-lined streets, and you’re grateful that the heat’s eased off and you aren’t sweaty and gross before you get in. The house is beautifully maintained, with a fresh coat of paint, a well-kept yard, and soft music spilling out through the open windows. Pete’s job clearly allows them a bit of comfort. For the first time since you were here, all those months ago, you notice these little details.

As you make your way up the walkway, you notice a stroller parked just inside the entryway, along with a soft baby blanket draped over the arm of a chair near the door—the quiet reminders of Natalie and Pete’s new life as parents. You hear soft baby coos over the sound of conversation, which makes you smile. Yet, it’s a reminder that maybe you yourself should start thinking of this kind of life. A life with a serious partner you might start a family with. Someone you will spend the rest of your life with. Probably. Hopefully.

Inside, the party is subdued yet lively. Guests drift through the kitchen and living room, chatting and laughing. You greet a few familiar faces, but you’re not really that close with most of them. The place is clean and pretty, the opposite of the mess you experienced in May. You quickly spit out your gum into a tissue you find in your pocket.

Richie finds you first, thrusting a glass of mimosa in your hand. You didn’t plan on drinking, but this could help with your nerves. You’re not great in new settings, around people you don’t know very well. Luckily, you’re pretty good with kids and you really like Natalie, so when she spots you, you spend about 30 minutes chatting while a few people gather around you. She gives you the baby to hold, and the little boy dozes off in your arms. When Nat takes him back to put him down in the crib, you excuse yourself from Jimmy’s wife and another older lady to go find water and maybe something small to eat.

The kitchen is quiet compared to the rest of the house, and you’re not surprised to find Carmen there, cutting carrots into precise sticks, his knife moving with calm precision. He doesn’t notice you at first, so you have a moment to take in his wide, muscled back under a thin sweater. It’s a very, very nice back that you would really, really like to see without any clothes.

You shake your head, pulling yourself together.

You clear your throat. “Hi.”

The sound startles him, and he jumps, the knife slipping from his fingers onto the cutting board with a loud clatter. “Fuck!” he mutters, spinning around to see you.

“Sorry!” you hurry to apologize, walking all the way to him. “Did you cut yourself?”

“No, it’s fine,” Carmen reassures you, taking a deep breath. “Hey,” he greets you back, a bit calmer now. He seems a bit surprised to see you.

“So, I find you in the kitchen, of all places,” you say with a smile, leaning on the wall. Under your arm is a thick paper envelope with the fresh magazine issue inside.

“I thought maybe you wouldn’t come.” His expression shifts to something warm, less guarded than what you’re used to. You almost blush at his words, unsure of what to take away from them.

Your fingers tighten around the envelope for a moment before you gather the courage to hand it over to him. “I wanted to show you this today.”

Carmen’s gaze drops to the big envelope, and he takes it from you. When he opens it, he sees himself on the cover, and there’s a pause. The main title reads, "Chef Carmen: The Story That Matters."

You feel a slight flutter of nerves. “I wanted to give you a chance to see it before anyone else. We just received a couple of copies yesterday. It’s not on newsstands for another week.”

Carmen nods but stays quiet, just flipping through the pages. You made sure Nat went over the final images with him, confirming he’s okay with the selection, and with the cover that features him wearing a pair of smart black pants and a white t-shirt revealing his tattoos. You see him skimming the article, glancing at the photos of himself in the kitchen and on the set. There are a couple with the whole team at The Bear.

“It’s… weird,” he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Seeing myself like this.”

You tilt your head curiously. “You’ve been in magazines. Even on the cover.”

“Yeah—just—” he glances back at the pages. “Not with a project that’s as personal as The Bear.”

You nod, understanding. It is revealing. While transcribing the interview and writing the whole feature, you finally had a chance to see through the cracks and gaps and get a glimpse of the real Carmen. The one hiding behind his unapproachable facade.

Carmen shakes his head, chuckling softly. “It’s… a lot. But it’s good,” he admits, his voice soft. He looks back at you, and you can feel the gratitude there, unspoken but genuine. “Thank you. You put a lot of work into this.”

You give a small shrug, trying to keep your own emotions in check.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I doubted you.” The reference to the bumpy start stings, and you almost grimace. “It’s… it’s everything you’ve done to get us here. I don’t think anyone’s ever believed in me like that.”

You want to say something silly, like, “Oh, I knew you’d be the top chef in Copenhagen already,” but you can’t get the words out. You don’t frequent The Bear as often as you used to. After the incident with Carmen, and even after all the apologies, you agreed they would find a proper social media manager, and you would help occasionally. But now you’ve started meeting Carmen outside the kitchen much more, venturing further into the restaurant world with a top chef as your guide. He’s changed, you think. Maybe both of you have.

Finally, Carmen breaks the silence, letting out a small, almost bashful laugh. “Guess I should, uh, keep this somewhere safe?”

You smile, relieved to feel the tension ease, and nod. “Yeah, please. Maybe show it to them when you’re back at work tomorrow? I’m sure Sydney and the others would get a kick out of seeing it.”

You watch Carmen tuck the magazine back into the envelope, and you feel the moment slipping past you. You clear your throat, gathering yourself before you speak.

“Actually, there’s… this event next week,” you start, fidgeting slightly. “It’s a charity cocktail—kind of formal, for a nonprofit that supports community kitchens. I wanted to ask if you’d come with me.”

Carmen raises an eyebrow, caught between curiosity and amusement. “Me?”

“Yeah,” you say with a shrug that you hope comes off casual. “I mean, you’re on the cover of Taste now, and people will hear about it soon. Thought it’d be nice to… y’know, show you off a little.”

He looks down, an almost shy grin tugging at his mouth. “Didn’t think I was the ‘show-off’ type.”

“Oh, you totally are,” you reply, grinning. “Besides, Nat mentioned you might need to make an appearance or two—good publicity for The Bear and all that.”

Carmen nods, as if he’s already half-resigned. “She has been dropping hints,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was going to ask if you’d come with me to it, too. Got the invite a few weeks back.”

“Oh,” you say, raising your eyebrows. “I thought we’re friends now. You should've asked sooner,” and you hope the word “friends” sounds as casual as you intended.

“Okay—then yes,” Carmen says, and there’s a challenge in his voice, his face serious. It’s clear he doesn’t want to seem like someone afraid of public events and social gatherings in general. You do know the truth, which makes you chuckle.

“How fancy is the event, you think?” he checks, sounding slightly discouraged now.

“Not that fancy, don’t worry.” You grin, leaning a bit closer. “Nothing that calls for a tux, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, I can wear a tux,” he juts out his chin, and it’s such a sudden change to his normal demeanor that you feel a bit weak in the knees for a second. Confidence suits him, as you know. And not only while he’s being the Chef.

“No doubt,” you agree with a smile, taking a tray with homemade hummus and carrot sticks from him.

“Oh—I’ve been meaning to ask you,” you remember as you’re both exiting the kitchen with more prepared food in your hands. “How did you survive the photo shoot and interview without any smoke breaks?”

He looks up at you and stays quiet for a moment.

“Nicotine patches. I had to put on three at the same time.”

And you laugh.

—

Carmen picks you up on Thursday at six-thirty. You chew through half a packet of gum while getting ready. A mix of feelings is swirling around in your stomach—excitement, nervousness, and an utter disbelief that you’re so worked up about a professional evening with Carmen.

When he buzzes the intercom, you jump, giving yourself an unnecessary scare, then roll your eyes at yourself. Grabbing a small black purse, you lock up behind yourself and make your way down the four flights of stairs. The air outside is slightly cool from the late afternoon rain, the fresh smell hitting your nose and making you nostalgic.

“Oh my god,” your heart drops to your stomach the second you look at Carmen, who is blankly staring with the most perplexed expression you’ve ever seen. “Have I messed up? Is this inappropriate?” Trying to read more from Carmen’s face, you lift your trembling hands to your mouth. What have you done? Why do you always have to have your way?

You look down at your draped top, barely covering your shoulders, and wide, pleated pants you opted for instead of a more traditional skirt or dress. You’re also wearing high-heeled Mary Janes that bring you to the same height level as Carmen. You hoped he’d get the fashion statement.

“I’m—I can change,” you stammer, turning halfway back to the door, already thinking about what you could swap this for.

As Carmen starts saying, “No, no,” you say, “It said semi-formal.” Carmen reaches for your hand and gently pulls it from your mouth. You’re still confused and freaking out, not understanding anything.

“I just meant—I just wanted to say,” Carmen swallows, “that you look lovely.”

“Oh god,” you sigh heavily with relief, and you both laugh—Carmen a bit awkwardly, and you breathlessly. “Screw you.” You’re pretty sure you feel two stones lighter suddenly.

It’s only later, when you’re both sitting in the back of a taxi taking you to The Field Museum, that you realize what Carmen said. He said you looked pretty. Oh.

—

“This is going to be so awkward,” Carmen says, his eyes never leaving the big, open door with a stream of nicely dressed people heading in through it. The large, Neoclassical building is imposing with its massive Corinthian columns, giving off an air of true greatness.

“Oh, c’mon,” you whine. “I’m actually really excited to see it from the inside without the usual visitors. It’s gonna be fine. You can even get drunk, if you want to.”

“Uh—I don’t really drink,” Carmen says as he finishes off his cigarette, stubbing the end and flicking the butt into the ashtray.

“Maybe tonight you will.” You smile sweetly. Of course, you would never even think of pressuring Carmen—or anyone— into drinking alcohol, but the faded image of the two of you in his houseboat in Copenhagen pops into your head.

“We can just check out Ancient Egypt and go,” you suggest as you watch Carmen fidget nervously from the corner of your eye.

He gives you a tight smile, one that doesn't reach his eyes, then offers you his arm, and together you go in.

The East Atrium is lit up and arranged with round tables and smaller, tall bar tables. It’s a modern addition to the museum designed to blend with the historic architecture. Through the large windows facing the lake, you can see the sun starting to set. There are fresh flowers—hydrangeas, peonies, and tuberose—in the vases decorating the space, and you can’t help but touch the soft petals as you stand by one of the arrangements.

Carmen’s gaze shifts around the room. His arm tenses slightly under your hand, and you can tell he's trying to look relaxed, even as his fingers keep flexing in his pocket. “See? It’s nice in here, right?” you whisper, trying to catch his eye, hoping for a little reassurance that he’s not hating every second. So far, you’ve only met two people you know—clients who regularly advertise in Taste and who did recognize Carmen, pulling him into an intense conversation about cooking stoves. When he spoke to the clients, you noticed his voice was polite but guarded, the rhythm clipped, almost rehearsed. Different from when he talks to you.

Carmen gives a reluctant nod. “Yeah, it’s…not bad.” He scans the room again, and you feel for him, guessing he’s probably trying to uncover any other potential danger. Then he notices the flowers you’ve gravitated toward, and his mouth quirks up—just a bit. “You really like flowers, huh?” he says quietly, watching you brush your fingers over the soft petals.

You grin and shrug. The scent of tuberose mingles with the warmth of the evening, and you get the best idea. “Want to skip the mingling and find the mummies?” you offer, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “I mean, what’s a night at the Field Museum without a little ancient history?”

Carmen lets out a soft chuckle, a rare sound that feels like a victory. “Yeah,” he says, sounding almost relieved. “Let’s do that.” As you make your way across the Atrium, Carmen keeps close by your side, your arms brushing. When he opens the door for you, his hand hovers just above the small of your back, the warmth radiating from his palm seeping into your spine through your clothes. The murmured “thanks” is the most you can do without embarrassing yourself.

—

“My dad is obsessed with mummies. He used to take me here at least twice a year when I was a kid,” you say as you aim your phone camera to capture the sleeping artifact. “I’ve never been here after the closing hours though.”

You send a quick, funny message to the chat group you have with your parents, and put the phone back into your purse. Although the narrow corridors and the displays are the same as they were years ago, it never gets old to you.

“I don’t think my parents took me places,” Carmen says next to you, studying the plaque next to the mummy and its decorated sarcophagus. “To cultural institutes and shit. We spent a lot of time at home, or running around our block.”

You feel a pang in your chest for little-boy Carmy. On the other hand, you know that you can’t judge other people’s experiences and the quality of their childhoods and lives based on yours.

“You’re here now. And you can ask anything. I can pretend to be a qualified guide,” you half-joke.

Carmen chuckles softly, though his gaze stays fixed on the ancient figure in its case. His eyes trace over the faded bandages, the meticulous, centuries-old work of preservation.

“It’s just an illusion. Most of the exhibits we see in museums have been stolen from the original countries as part of colonialism or wars,” you sigh, studying the gold jewelry in a display behind the thick glass. “It shouldn’t be like that.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of messed up.”

Next, you check the Book of the Dead and the reconstruction of the ancient marketplace. Here and there, you bump into other people drifting in from the atrium, taking the opportunity to experience the free exhibition too.

“I think I need a drink after the cat shrine,” Carmen points out once you make it back to the lively space of the Atrium. The glass ceiling reveals that the evening’s turned into night. “It was kinda creepy,” he says with a certain hint of unease. You chuckle, patting him lightly on the back. “I think that’s the point. Cats are guardians of the afterlife, gazing into your soul. Maybe they picked you out for judgment, Carmen.” He shudders slightly, pulling a face. “I’d rather stick to cooking for the living.”

More people approach you as you wait at the bar—old colleagues of Carmen from Ever, hospitality people you’ve interviewed, and Regina, the head of sales from Taste.

Carmen holds the two drinks as you find a table off to the side, both of you grateful for the secluded spot. He slides your drink over to you. The tired look on his face proves he’s not too thrilled about the impromptu reunion with old colleagues.

“Looks like you’ve got a fan club,” you point out. The way Regina was looking at Carmen sticks with you—the way she talked to him. Like she wanted to eat him alive. Or fuck him.

Carmen rolls his eyes. “Didn’t realize it’d be a whole industry meetup. Thought I was off-duty tonight.”

“You couldn't have possibly thought that.”

You mirror Carmen and take a sip of the drink to find out what he’s ordered for you.

“That’s—that’s licorice vodka,” you stammer out.

Carmen nods. “Yeah, can you believe they have it here?” A small, secretive smile plays around his eyes. “Did I hit the target, Copenhagen?” Your eyes widen slightly, caught off guard by the unexpected nostalgia that hits you as you recognize the drink. It’s simple, unassuming, yet oddly perfect—a reminder of countless late nights and blurry memories from Denmark. You can’t believe he’s remembered. “Yeah,” you say, recovering. “You hit the target.”

Instead of pondering more about the reasons, or the lack of them, behind Carmen’s gesture, you look down at your feet, hissing. “Do your feet hurt?”

“Fuck yes. Like hell!” You can’t help but grimace as you shift your weight, feeling the pinch of your shoes.

Carmen watches you shuffle uncomfortably, and he hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “You, uh…you sure you’re okay?” he asks.

“It’s fine. I was expecting this.”

You take a sip of your drink again, thinking of what you want to say next.

“Do you do all this because of what happened?” you ask, looking at the floor behind his shoulder.

“What do you mean?”

“The—what happened in the restaurant office,” you add in a small voice, hating to talk about the incident.

Carmen reaches out to lightly touch your hand on the table. “I should've never behaved that way. I was a real dick.”

“That mean yes or no?” you inquire, your heart picking up speed. You don’t know why you’re getting nervous again. “You’ve been super nice to me. And a—a good, uhm, friend.” You say the word ‘friend’ so tentatively it’s almost inaudible in the room. Maybe you hope Carmen’s gonna overhear. It’s such a fragile label of what’s between you.

Carmen actually huffs out a small laugh before he says: “Be nice to nice,” and you lift your head up to glance at him, finding him smiling, so you smile back. You just smile back and don’t say anything else. This is all you need.

—

The next morning, the sun feels harsher than it should. It streams through the blinds, making everything feel just a little too bright, a little too real after last night. You had expected to wake up tired, but what you didn’t expect was the quiet echo of Carmen’s smile and his casual, soft touches lingering in your chest and beneath your skin. Fuck, you think self-deprecatingly. You try to shake it off as you rush to work, but it’s impossible.

During the morning briefing, you keep checking your phone for new messages, but there are none from Carmen. It’s hard not to hope for a follow-up after last night. As innocent and friendly as the whole evening had been, ignoring your growing affection for the chef is impossible now.

When your phone buzzes during your lunch break, a quick glance at the screen tells you it’s Natalie, texting in her usual efficient bursts: Nat: New special menu to be launched tomorrow. Can you stop by The Bear tonight? Nat: Just to check how we wanna communicate it on SoMe. Nothing major! You barely finish reading before the familiar flutter sets in. Nothing major for Natalie usually means chaos in the making. But it’s not her message that has you rushing home after work—it’s the possibility of seeing Carmen again. By the time you’ve touched up your makeup and slipped into a new outfit, your nerves are buzzing. Carmen’s commented on your dresses a couple of times, so you feel like that’s definitely the right choice. You put together a dark blue button-through summer dress with tiny white dots, and a pair of cowboy boots, giving you a look that’s casually cool.

As you get ready, you wonder how Carmen feels about seeing you again so soon after last night. You wonder if he thought about the drink he picked for you, or the way he laughed—so much that his dimples, which you had almost forgotten about, kept appearing by his mouth.

The service is in full swing when you arrive, so you automatically use the back door, heading to the office as quickly as possible through the intensity of the kitchen. You don’t even try to catch a glimpse of blond hair or that familiar white chef’s jacket, even though you terribly want to.

“Looks like it’s already a madhouse,” you say, sliding into the chair next to Natalie in the office. “When isn’t it?” Nat quips, finally looking up with a wry smile. She nods toward the kitchen. “Carmy’s back there somewhere. I told him you’d swing by.” Your stomach does a little flip at the mention of his name, but you nod casually, as if it doesn’t affect you at all. “Okay, let’s see this menu then.”

Natalie starts explaining the dishes, her words efficient but animated, as she describes the seasonal ingredients and the thought behind the pairings. It’s funny how similar the siblings are. Maybe not at first glance, but as you’ve gotten to know them better, you notice the resemblance more often than not.

As if summoned by your thoughts, the door swings open, and Carmen steps out. His brows are furrowed in that intense, focused way that somehow makes him look even more attractive. Your breath catches, and you quickly look down at the paper in front of you, pretending to study the menu notes.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and quiet, as he approaches the table. He nods at Natalie, then turns his attention to you. His gaze flickers briefly to your dress. “Hi,” you reply, trying not to sound too breathless. “Thanks for coming,” Carmen says, his eyes lingering on you for just a moment longer than necessary before shifting back to Natalie. “So, what’s the plan?”

As Natalie launches into the logistics, you can’t help but steal glances at Carmen. He’s close enough that you catch the faint scent of his cologne, and when his fingers brush yours as he passes a page of notes, it feels electric, sending a spark up your arm. If you’d struggled to concentrate earlier, it’s almost impossible now. And you’re the one who’s supposed to share ideas and opinions.

The whole thing stretches into a menu tasting in the only calmer spot in the kitchen—you taking photos just in case, brainstorming about the introduction wording. Then Carmen and Natalie get into a fight—unsurprisingly—before making up. It’s like being on a swing with them, and the whole environment of the kitchen—hot, fast, frantic—makes it even more intense.

—

Absolutely on purpose, you finish fiddling with Instagram just before 11:30 p.m. in the empty kitchen, getting up when you hear what must be Carmen taking out his civvies from his locker. You take your bomber jacket and a handbag, walking over there.

“Hi,” you say, and Carmen’s head pops up through the hole of his crewneck sweater.

“Hey,” he says back. “You’re still here?”

You nod. “Thank you again for yesterday. For taking me with you.”

Carmen looks up at you from where he’s changing his Birkenstocks for white sneakers. “Didn’t you take me with you?” he jokes.

“It was nice either way,” you say, putting on your jacket and hoping Carmen doesn’t hear the hope in your voice. It’s hard to keep the softness you feel for him out of your words.

Carmen hoists his backpack onto his shoulder. “You leaving too?”

“Yep.”

He holds the back door for you, touching your lower back lightly the way he had yesterday. You bite your lip at the slightest contact, resisting the urge to reach back and touch his hand.

You lean against the wall by the door as Carmen locks up and then lights up a cigarette. You haven’t talked much for the rest of the dinner service, but he seems more relaxed, smiles more often. It has you smiling too.

“What?” he checks when he looks over at you.

You shake your head but the smile persists. “Nothin’... I’m glad it all has worked out,” you sigh with relief and content.

Carm blows the smoke above his head, watching it disappear. “Thanks to you,” he says seriously. 

“No. No, we talked about this yesterday. I don’t need any credit in this,” you’re shaking your head in resolution, a frown forming on your face. “I don’t want it.”

He steps closer, crowding you against the wall, intention flashing in his eyes, and you can't breathe. Can't imagine that the timid chef would want - that he would want you in a way you've been wanting him. 

Carmen gets into your space, and your hands land on his waist, finding purchase on the waistband of his jeans. “Carmy,” you breath out quietly, head tilted down. You don't know what's going to happen but the close proximity to the chef makes you breathless. His hands cradle your face. You only feel the gentle touch, scared to face Carmen fully. But you can smell him again - his deodorant and hair product. Cigarettes. 

He surprises you though. “Why do you always smell like cinnamon?” he mumbles, his breath tickling the baby hair around your ear, his mouth an inch from it. 

“It's the - the gum,” you answer, trying to stay calm despite your heart beating like crazy. Only now you do realize you called him Carmy. It felt right. 

You're not sure for how much longer you can stay still, but Carmen seems to have no trouble dragging the situation out. You are restless, though, you just have to do something. 

So you tilt your face up and you lean up on your tiptoes to kiss him. Just to press your lips against Carmy’s, nothing else. It’s actually more of an act to break the tension than an actual kiss. You feel absolutely stupid a mere second after you are back on your feet fully, Carmen right in front of you, unmoving.

“Am I reading this all wrong?” you ask when the chef remains silent, avoiding eye contact with you.

He shakes his curly head, putting space between you two—unwittingly or not, you don’t want to think about it now—and runs a palm over his face, scratching the back of his neck. His body leaning away, the stupid crewneck pulling tight across his shoulders with the stretch of Carmen’s muscles.

“You’re not,” he says, and you almost feel giddy. You bite your lip to stop smiling. Carmen looks pained and worried, and you don’t want to be smiling.

“Then what’s going on?” you ask, reaching for his wrist and stroking the protruding bones there lightly.

“Just—I just feel like I’m going to fuck everything up.”

Slowly, you sway back closer to him, putting all your own nervousness behind. You lay one of your palms against his chest, hoping it could comfort him, the other one back on his waist.

“You know you are hot—” you say quietly, not quite looking him in the eye, “—attractive.” You correct yourself quickly.

“What?” Carmen says, and you can feel him relax a tiny bit, twisting his hand so it’s holding the one that had been on his wrist.

“You work out. You must know that you look good.” You slide your palm a little lower to the abs hiding under his cotton shirt.

It sounds awfully a lot like flirting, but you don’t even know how to flirt. You are honestly so bad at it. And this is only the truth, anyway.

Carmy’s definitely wearing a blush that’s matching yours. It’s spreading down his neck and lower, where you want to put your mouth.

“I just run. Sometimes. After work,” Carmen stammers a little incoherently, probably feeling like you are expecting an answer, or an explanation. And you know he runs every day, and does push-ups and God knows what. It’s a known fact in the kitchen. That’s how he puts space between “work” and “life.” A divider. Even just so small. You understand it. The need to know where your job ends and you start. You can also imagine that it’s something very difficult to distinguish for Carmen.

“I hate running,” you note, your honest mind is too quick to think twice. “But still—I would really like to kiss you. Properly.”

A car wheezes around you, way past the speed limit, and Carmen stares after it. He takes a visible, deep breath, looking into the street on the right, where the street lamps turn into small yellow, glowing balls. It bares the side of his neck to you, thick and vulnerable, and you can’t not look. A shiver runs through you from the evening chill, or maybe something else, too.

“Can we—would you maybe like to come over to my place?” you ask, probably the bravest you’ve ever been.

Carmen clearly thinks about the situation for a couple of seconds before he says: “Ok. Let’s go.”

You blink once, say nothing, and head toward the L with him by your side.

—

On the staircase, Carmen takes your hand into his, long fingers sliding along the top of your hand. While you're unlocking the door, you wonder if Mikaela left potato peels and apricot stones and orange rinds on the kitchen counter in her so-called open compost. 

“Come in,” you say over your shoulder. The old, brass hanger is by the main door and you hang your jacket there, then take Carmen's to put away there too. “Would you like something to drink?” you ask politely, stalling on purpose. “We have - “ in all honesty, you are almost scared to open the fridge but Carmen is still standing where you left him, by the door. “We have tonic - “ without his friend gin that disappeared on Saturday - “ - or tap water.” 

Carmen's wearing his gray crewneck and in combination with his mussed hair, he looks incredibly soft. “'m fine,” he says, looking at you with his big eyes, looking nervous but somewhat calm. Like he doesn't want to run away, which instantly comes to you as a huge relief. 

You go to switch on the two small lamps placed around the room that you call the living room, which is obviously part kitchen and dining room too. The light makes everything even softer, a gentle sort of atmosphere. Suddenly it's easy to find each other in the middle of the room, right where the sofa with patchwork cushions are. WIthout a moment of hesitation, you kinda meet in the middle, and finally, you get to taste Carmen Berzatto. 

It takes a few slow, lingering kisses to get bolder, and to your surprise, it's Carmen who gently slips his tongue into your mouth first, and you briefly wonder if he can taste the cinnamon from your gum now. Slowly reaching up to put your hand on the nape of Carmy's neck, you feel the delicate golden chain lying against his vertebra. How long will it take to see him wearing only that?

You push him softly in the general direction of the sofa. It's old and too soft, but you love the faded gray upholstery and how homey the simple piece of furniture is. Soon Carmen´s sitting on it with you on his lap. You’re wearing the dark blue cotton dress and your boots that are digging in the sofa by Carmen's thighs. 

Carmen´s not shy, kissing you fully, tilting your head to his liking, stroking your bare arms up and down. You’re breathless on top of him, fingers running through the dark blond curls, giving back as much as receiving. The two of you kiss for long minutes, and you love it. You love how he tastes and how he's touching you, but it's clear that he's holding back. Or maybe it’s just you who is completely overwhelmed with want and need. 

“Are you - are you a virgin?” you dare to ask into his ear, kissing his neck, hiding your face in the crook of his shoulder. 

“What? No,” Carmen says, letting out a breathless laugh. 

“It's fine if you are.”

“No,” he repeats.

“Ok.”

You lean back and take his hand to intertwine your fingers together. You can feel how warm your face is, the rushing of your heart. 

“I just - just haven’t done anything. In a while,” Carmen says while looking at you, and he´s blushing, the apples of his cheeks darker than seconds ago. 

“Me neither,” you reply in the same hushed voice caused by the dark room around you.

“You can touch me,” you invite him, bringing your joint hands to the apex of your thighs where the hem of your dress has rucked up. There´s nothing to be seen, the dress still covering your underwear, and you remember incidentally, that you are wearing a very plain pair of white knickers. Before he has a chance to react to your bold move, you duck down to kiss him, and everything drowns out the buzz of paralyzing excitement. 

First you feel the soft touch of the back of his knuckles to press against your throbbing groin, too light to do anything than tease you. Carmen doesn't stop kissing you but it's slower, less measured, while he concentrates on the movement of his hand between your legs. He presses a bit harder, starts rubbing you in circles.

You shudder out a breath, tensing, fingers digging into his shoulders. “‘s nice,” you mutter into his mouth, face hot, too worried that if you don't encourage him, he might stop.

Carmen shortly hums in response and doesn’t stop. He presses open mouthed kisses against the side of your neck and down to the low neckline of your dress. You bite down on your lower lip, overwhelmed. It’s still hard to believe that you have Carmen here on your sofa, between your legs, his unruly curls between your fingers. Only now do you start to realize that you feel so much for him. That this is not just messing around. That you could actually fall in love with him. That you have been falling for him.

With a touch to his sharp jaw, you bring his face back to yours to kiss him deeply again, taking his free hand in yours to guide him, this time up to your breast. You squeeze the heavy weight of it and moan against the side of Carmy’s neck.

“I like it when it hurts a bit,” you whisper bashfully, too aware of how your hair sticks to your sweaty nape, the baby hairs by your ears probably curling with the humidity coming off your own burning skin. 

Carmen nods and squeezes, a bit harder than you showed him, and you let out a surprised gasp that turns into a moan, head tilting back in pleasure. His thumb finds your nipple through two layers of clothing and he rubs against it, then pinches. Your eyes fly to his, wide and searching. Surprised by his obvious willingness to please you, you watch Carm’s actions almost breathlessly - how his eyebrows knot in concentration upon every measured touch, the way the tendons in his hand strain when he sneaks his fingers behind the elastic of your underwear. But you need to see more.

“Take this off,” you rasp out, grasping the material of Carmen’s jumper and tugging. “Off,” you mutter again, trying to help Carm out while he gets the garment over his head and off, chuckling breathlessly. You catch his smile and have to grin back, shyly but surely, and you kiss again, Carmen going back where he had stopped. 

When you can open your eyes again, you enjoy the sight of Carmen’s muscles straining as he fingers you, looking down at where his fingers are disappearing into you, the elastic waistband digging into his wrist. He’s as concentrated and serious as he gets in the kitchen, plus turned on, if you can judge by the way he worries his bottom lip and the flush that’s spreading down his face to his long neck. Maybe he does get turned on when he’s in the kitchen, you muse, you just never noticed.

The never-ending string of your thoughts, even in this situation, unfortunately, is interrupted by Carm’s palm moving from your bare thigh up to your ass, his fingertips digging into the meat. His other hand speeds up, causing you to mutter, “Fuck,” into his ear.

“Can you come like this?” Carmen asks, and you can feel his wide eyes on you, even though you’re not looking.

“Give me a sec,” you answer in a breathy, raw voice, already mostly there. Your hand travels down into your underwear to touch your aching, swollen clit, while Carmy resumes, rubbing your walls inside. When he curls his fingers, the tips drag over your g-spot. That stirs all sorts of feelings in you, and you moan, then start grinding against his hand, his fingers. Those fingers that you watched chop and stir so many times in secret with quiet rapture, are now in you, bringing you to an orgasm.

Afraid that he could read too much from your face, you drag him into another kiss, dirtier and more desperate than the previous ones. As you near the peak, getting more and more desperate, unable to kiss Carm properly, he mouths at your collarbones, your chest, the top of your breasts. When he uses his teeth, you know he’s testing how far he can go, and you let out an encouraging sound.

Squeezing your eyes shut, your head tips back again, baring your throat to Carmen, as you come. You can feel your thighs tremble and your fingers squeeze Carmy’s shoulders momentarily. Once it washes over you, you slide off sideways from Carmen’s lap, breathing heavily and still biting your lip. You think you didn’t let out a single sound. You didn’t want to.

Carmen gives you a side glance, eyes glassy. He seems to be a bit breathless himself. You notice his eyes going to your breasts, where you can still feel wetness from his mouth, wondering if there are any actual marks left. Judging by the look on Carmen’s face, there might be.

Without thinking, you reach out and tug on the waistband of his Dickies.

“Yeah?” he says, looking at you.

“Yeah,” you nod.

With clumsy fingers, you open the button on Carmy’s pants together. You can’t help yourself — you push up the material of his t-shirt, revealing extra skin.

Your eyes widen as you scan his toned torso. “Running, huh?” you mutter teasingly, stroking your hand down his warm abdomen.

“Huh?” Carmen’s caught off guard, eyes following your hand. “Oh I — I do push-ups — erm — press-ups — sometimes. When I can't sleep.”

God, why is he sheepish? “And how much do you actually sleep?”

“Couple of hours,” he says, but the second word ends up cut off by a gasp as you touch Carmen’s dick, tugging it out from his underwear. He hisses, hips lifting up with the sensation, and you can see his tummy muscles contracting. You start stroking him slowly, as much as the angle allows you, trying out a firmer grip and then loosening up.

Not wanting to make Carmen uncomfortable with shameless staring, you press your face into the outer side of his arm, watching him from under his shoulder wordlessly. Based purely on his facial expressions, you adjust your fingers on his dick, and the rhythm. As expected, Carmy is utterly quiet, his strong jaw clenching. Only here and there, he lets out a harsh breath that you count as a victory. The t-shirt you have your nose buried in smells of generic laundry detergent, cigarettes, and caramelized onion. It also smells like Carmen — like a guy and antiperspirant.

It’s not long before Carmy squirms — “I’m not gonna last long,” he says, fists balling, and it’s so obvious he’s been holding himself back from fucking up into your hand that you feel almost sorry for him. On the other hand, this small thing between you is so fragile, and you are so anxious that you are going to fuck up, so you just bite your tongue and don’t comment on it.

“It’s fine,” you say low, lips moving against the t-shirt again, pretending you have not been watching his every expression, reading deep into every blink of his eyes, every time he wets his lips, jerks his pelvis up a bare inch with pleasure. The tip of his dick is as cherry pink as his lips are, you notice desperately, and you know this image is going to haunt you forever.

“It’s fine,” you repeat sweetly, speeding up your movements, and then Carmen is coming, thick ropes of it landing on your fingers and your wrist and his t-shirt that’s fallen back down over his stomach. He shakes with the force of his orgasm, and you watch his body in awe as it goes through it, still touching him, feeling the hot, slippery skin of his dick in your hand.

The rush of emotions is so strong that you almost panic. Then you look left and up at Carmen—he’s trying to catch his breath, his big eyes are glassy, and his lips are shiny with his own spit, and in that very moment, you believe that he can see right into the core of your own being.

You want to cradle his jaw and kiss him. Instead, you look away faster than he can. Miraculously, a box of Kleenex sits on the coffee table by the sofa, and you reach over to hand it to Carmen.

Next to you, you hear, more than see, Carmen wipe down the mess, pulling his t-shirt back down.

There are two options—either you get up quickly and this is all over for now, or you acknowledge what just happened and try to be all mature about it. To your own surprise, you go with the latter, turning to Carmen, reaching out to touch his forearm lightly.

He looks over at you and smiles, small and gentle.Then he leans in and kisses you on the lips before standing up.

“Can I smoke in here?” he asks, already searching his pockets.

“Yeah. From the kitchen window,” you point in the general direction of the window. There’s a chopped tomato can serving as an ashtray on the outside windowsill. Without a second look, you disappear into the bathroom to fix your damp underwear.

The night stretches, and Carmy never leaves. After his smoke break, you expect things to be awkward. But they aren’t. You split the two-day-old dinner leftovers—vegan spaghetti bolognese from Mikaela—and you eat it on the same sofa where you had been touching and kissing twenty minutes ago, while watching Modern Family, just to have something to fill in the silence that could become uncomfortable.

Carmen changes into your old baggy t-shirt. No denying that you would prefer him without it, but he asks for it himself. When he comes out of the bathroom and lies next to you, he smells of mint, and you hope he didn’t use your toothbrush without asking—because, “bleh”—and he reads your mind, because he says, “I brushed with toothpaste on my finger,” and brings the blanket all the way up to his chin.

You don’t know how, but you both fall asleep.

The stirring in the bed next to you is what wakes you up. Used to sleeping in your double bed by yourself, it takes your hazy brain a moment to remember that it’s not the case tonight. The light from the streetlamp filtering through the window blinds falls on the man next to you. You watch him wriggle under the sheet, sleepy and unguarded. He looks like an innocent boy—with his puffy eyes and messy hair falling over his forehead. 

Meanwhile, Carmen’s eyes open and find yours. You’re unsure of what he sees on your face, but he outstretches his arm to touch your bare shoulder, and shuffles closer. Your stomach twists at the nearness.

“You okay?” you whisper groggily. “Aren’t you cold?”

He only shakes his head.

“Okay,” you nod into the pillow, daring to run the pads of your fingers along his forearm, stroking. Carmen’s skin here is baby soft, with no hairs on the inner side. You enjoy his quiet hum as you use your nails lightly. He closes his eyes momentarily, and you would say he shivers, but you can’t be sure.

You’re surrounded by the quiet of the night; even the neighbors above must be asleep because you can’t hear their annoying heavy steps. Tomorrow, you won’t be sure if you dreamt this moment.

“Sleep,” you whisper again, something primal overtaking you as you reach further into Carmy’s hair, smoothing down the tangled curls and continuing over the shell of his ear. Carmen watches you for a little longer until he relaxes completely, his blinks getting longer. You’re so caught up in the rare moment of stillness that you don’t realize at first that he’s falling asleep, until his heavy breathing indicates that he’s gone.

[jandthecrow]

Ramble 1

Gentle!König x Reader

CW: SWF

Dating soft!König would be like navigating a quiet storm. On the outside, he’s all muscle and scars - a man who’s seen things, done things that have hardened him - but underneath the skin is a quiet softness, like the calm after a storm.

At first, he might be reserved, hesitant, or unsure of how to let his guard down. Not used to someone being there for him, so when you show up, he almost doesn’t know what to do with the tenderness you offer.

He’s the type to care deeply without showing it all at once. He’ll remember the little things like how you take your coffee, the way you like your clothes folded, the songs you hum when you’re content. His love is quiet but strong. You’ll catch him staring at you sometimes, not in a possessive way, but with this quiet, almost surprised look - like he can’t quite believe you’re real. And when he smiles - really smiles not that half assed stuff - it feels like a reward, making the wait worth it.

König isn’t a man of big gestures, but when he does something for you, it’s with a thoroughness that speaks more then he does. He’ll make you tea just the way you like it, hold the door open for you, or pull you in a little closer when the cold hands of anxiety grip you tight at night. He’s not one for words of affection, but his actions - the gentle touches, the protectiveness, the way he listens to you even when he doesn’t have much to say - show you that you’re everything and more to him.

Sometimes, he’s a little awkward in his own weird way. He might not always know how to say what he feels, but you can tell by the way he looks at you, how his hand lingers just a little longer than necessary when it touches yours. And when he does open up, it’s like the floodgates of heaven open, and you’ll get a glimpse into the soft, vulnerable side of him that he keeps hidden from the hard world.

On the tough days, when he gets quiet and distant, it isn’t because he doesn’t care. It’s because he’s trying to protect you from the reality of everything he’s been through, even if it means retreating into himself for a while. But he always comes back, like the way a bird comes back after migration, ready to show you, in his own funky way, that he’s there for you.

Dating soft!König is like your bed after a hard day - a place where you can be yourself without judgment, where you know without a doubt, that he’ll always protect your heart in the quietest, most loving way possible.