#and yet all the time i imagine him wondering if *this* delay will be the one that costs him his soul...

[vickyvicarious]

As the door began to open, the howling of the wolves without grew louder and angrier; their red jaws, with champing teeth, and their blunt-clawed feet as they leaped, came in through the opening door. I knew then that to struggle at the moment against the Count was useless. With such allies as these at his command, I could do nothing.

The wolves are actually scrabbling so close at the doorway that their claws and swiping through the crack. That's scary as hell, especially given that they killed a woman right on this doorstep less than a week ago.

I love that Jonathan wants to hurt Dracula enough that the idea briefly occurs to him here and he has to dismiss it as useless. I wonder if he was willing to take a desperate chance on trying to shove Dracula aside as soon as the door was open to just make a dash for it. It would be a tremendous risk and almost certain death, but if the Count had to leave in the morning and Jonathan could put a little distance between them, there might just, just be a minuscule chance that he wouldn't be hunted down... but of course, the wolves make that impossible. It wouldn't have been feasible anyway because Dracula could just send the wolves after him in the forest even if he didn't want to personally chase him down (which he almost certainly could) but Jonathan may have been willing to risk it regardless. Except having the wolves right there at the door makes this completely impossible, makes his death here certain... so he crumples, and begs to stay till morning.

[ozzgin]

Request/Idea-

Male Yandere Lawyer x Female Embroider Reader (a lady who works as a tailor is fine too)

Imagine a man falling head over heels for that newly employed lady who hand embroiders beautiful handkerchiefs in a luxury shop he visits to get his custom suits! And he just trying to coax her into dating him, marrying him, and becoming his stay at home wife (and mother of his children eventually) 🥰🤭

Age difference? I need some DILF Daddy energy more in my life (but don’t make him an actual father…yet)

P.S. I adore your OCs and writing. And your artwork is way too fucking good! You’re art is just *chef’s kiss* infuckingcredible

-👘

Ooh, you know what this reminds me of? I have a yaoi volume from Scarlet Beriko, “Queen and the tailor”, about an interior designer that visits a legendary tailor whose suits will supposedly help you achieve success. The tailor turns out to be a scary looking, blunt man but nonetheless extremely talented. I liked the premise a lot, so it’s definitely interesting to try out a different perspective.

In this case I have the image of a patient, soft-spoken reader and a hurried, short tempered lawyer. Comically different but in a way that eventually works out, you know? Also thank you for the kind words!

Yandere!Lawyer x Embroiderer!Reader Headcanons

Featuring a Reader that is blissfully unaware the lawyer she just stared dating has their entire life together already sorted out.

Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, obsessive behavior

Your eyes begin to hurt mildly, so you look out the window and blink repeatedly, trying to refresh your poor sight. Such detailed works always strain you terribly, but you love seeing the finished result. Others must, too, given your handkerchiefs are often sold out the very same day. Right before your needle pierces the silk canvas anew, the door opens with a burst and you jolt. An older man in a suit, arguing loudly over the phone. He’s drumming his fingers over the counter, eyes darting around in search for an attendant. You know the type quite well, so you hurry over with the hoop still in your hand. “Might I help you with anything?” You mouth discreetly. He turns to you, stares for a couple of seconds, and promptly ends his call.

Out of all the places, he certainly didn’t expect regretting his rusty, unpolished flirting skills in a luxury tailor shop. Yet here he is now, clumsily mumbling something about his new suit he’s come to pick up and wondering how to connect that with your number. The name’s the easy part, as it’s neatly and conveniently printed out on the little badge pinned to your collar. Everything else, not so much. You excuse yourself and return moments later with his order. Shit. You tilt your head, confused by the delayed response, worrying whether you forgot something. Next time. He’ll figure it out for sure next time he comes here.

If there’s one good thing about his career, it’s that his eyes have been trained to spot every detail. For example the embroidery hoop you gently held while speaking to him, so he knows exactly what his next custom order will be. Truth be told, he didn’t anticipate your popularity and long waiting times, but a calculated raised tone with a sprinkle of intimidation has convinced the employee to assign him to you as earliest priority. Whether he can flirt remains to be seen, but arguing with others? Child’s play.

“Thank you for coming again today.” You bow slightly and extend the gift bag. “Although, I must say…I’ve never seen you using these before. What has caused your sudden interest in handkerchiefs?” Rather bold of you to begin such conversations, but your curiosity is too great. No matter how hard you try, you can’t imagine why a blunt, nonchalant man like him would abruptly become passionate about embroidery. A lover? You smile faintly at the idea. Whoever it is, they’ve taken quite the challenge upon themselves. The lawyer frowns at the inquiry. It seems you’re just as observant as him. Maybe this shall be the pretext he can finally cling onto. So he presents it in the factual truth you’d hear in a courthouse: it’s his excuse to see you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Well now, isn’t it just silly? He could’ve simply asked. Buying countless expensive handmade items instead of plainly confessing his intentions…He stumbles, flustered. The same man whose ruthless reputation has even reached your humble ears is anxiously awaiting your response with a deep blush on his face.

The childlike innocence doesn’t last long. You’ve agreed to date him and that’s great, but he’s a man with little time that has known exactly what he wants for many years. When he laid his eyes on you he didn’t imagine cheesy coffee dates as you discuss your favorite color and cautiously breach the topic of intimacy. What’s the point? He’s already certain he’ll spend the rest of his life with you. Skip the unnecessary steps. On the other hand, you’re not as cooperative as he’d wish. Truly, the tangible proof that opposites attract. You’re always calm and take your time with everything. It’s almost frustrating how easygoing you are. When asked when you’re moving in with him, you just smiled and wondered out loud what could be wrong with your small studio above the shop. Marriage? Good question, you never thought about it.

Oh, the irony. Last time a client was being particularly difficult, your lawyer boyfriend pulled him out by the collar under the mortified stares of the other attendants and shoppers. The exact attitude he himself would’ve shown before, yet this time it’s different. Of course it is, it involves you. His thin patience runs out if it’s you. That’s all there is to it. Can you blame a man for following his heart? They say you should always chase your dreams; he prefers hunting them down efficiently, and the shotgun is pointed in your direction. His sweet, exquisite prey he can never get enough of.

Finally you agree to move in with him. Your hesitation was maddening and he’d started coming up with downright psychotic alternatives to convince you, such as your studio burning down after a vicious attack of some unknown hooligans. So it was rather wise of you not to push someone that knows the law like the back of his hand, even if you aren’t aware of it yet. He enthusiastically guides you around your new forever home, omitting unimportant details. The spare office he emptied for a future nursery? You’ll get to that later.

He can’t wait to spoil you. See, that’s the advantage of dating an older man. He’s gotten his life sorted out a long time ago. All that was left was finding you. You just need to be a darling and behave. He knows you will. After all, you’re his talented little embroideress that won’t have to worry about anything else ever again.

[hornyfor-redacted-onmain]

Secret Secret Chapter 5

OT8 Straykids x reader, ABO AU

Masterlist | Next Part

Sooyoung realized it immediately when she walked in.

“Oh wow, someone’s in preheat.”

You sighed. “Is it that noticeable?”

She dropped her bag on the counter. “Honey, it smells like you took a shower in unicorn pee.”

“Unicorn pee?”

“I can’t imagine anything else smelling so good and yet so overwhelmingly bad,” she said with a shrug, turning to rummage around the cabinets. “You going to take the day off when your heat hits?”

“Oh, um.” You shrunk down in your seat on the couch. “Not exactly.”

The alpha paused, turning around slowly with narrowed eyes. “What did you do?”

“Look, hear me out,” You started. “It’s only Monday. My heat will probably hit on Thursday, and then I’ll have to call in sick for two days.”

“Wow, two days off work. How tragic,” Sooyoung said sarcastically, still standing with her arms crossed.

You gave her a look. “However, if I can hold off my heat until after work on Friday, I can ride my heat out during the weekend. No need to call in sick at all!”

“Right. And go back to work immediately after your heat?”

You could tell that her alpha wasn’t pleased with the idea of you working after such a harsh experience. Most omegas took at least a few days off after their heat to recover, but it wasn’t impossible for you to function the day after.

Betas wouldn’t need a day off to recover.

“It’s only my second week at this job, Youngie. I can’t afford to be using up my sick days so soon!”

“And yet I know for a fact that you’ll use some other excuse the next time your heat comes up.” She paused, narrowing her eyes as she realized something. “Wait. The only way you’ll manage to delay your heat is with suppressants.”

You looked down.

“You know how badly those affect you!”

“It’s only two days!”

Sooyoung threw her hands up into the air. “Fine, you know what? Do what you like. You’re a grown adult capable of making her own stupid decisions. But don’t come crying to me at the end of the day when those symptoms wreak havoc on you.”

You watched through silent fury as your roommate practically stomped to her room. The door slammed loudly behind her, and you were tempted to comment on it just to get the last word in, but you held your tongue.

In reality, you knew she had every right to be worried. Heat suppressants were normally only used for emergencies, not because they had any negative consequences on the body itself, but because the symptoms were so horrible that no normal person would willingly subject themselves to them unless they absolutely had to.

Headaches, fatigue, heightened senses, heat flashes, brain fog, stomach cramps. Heat suppressants forced the production of pre-heat hormones and suppressed the actual heat from happening for a short period of time, but, as an unfortunate side effect, it enhanced all the pre-heat symptoms and dialed them up to a 100.

Compared to the milder heat symptoms (slick production and high libido) it seemed odd to want to endure two days of all that. But your heat would make your scent so strong, to the point that your scent blockers wouldn’t work anymore, so it was a necessity.

At least that’s what you told yourself.

-0-0-

You weren’t sure what to expect from the Alpha you were bringing home. The entire ride in his car, besides giving out directions, nothing was said between the both of you. Even now, awkwardly standing in your kitchen, he looked like he was losing the motivation he originally had, and you wondered if you would end up being left high and dry.

“Do you want some water? Or something else to drink?” You leaned against your counter, hoping that a simple conversation would help him relax.

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“You sure? You look like your seconds away from bolting.”

“Ah, am I that obvious?” He let out a chuckle, reaching up to scratch at his forehead. “I’ve never really done something like this before.”

You tilted your head in interest. “Oh? What makes me so special?”

He didn’t say anything at first, instead choosing to move forward until he was leaning against the other side of the counter. The two of you were close enough that you could reach out and touch him if you wanted, but part of you was curious to see if he would make the first move.

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully.

“You sure it’s not my charmingly good looks?” You said it jokingly, but he rested his chin against his hand.

“No, it’s something else. Something … special.”

You felt your omega perk up at the compliment, and you could smell your scent begin to grow. You pulled back from the counter to stand up straight. If things were going to progress any further, you needed to take this back to your room. You didn’t want Sooyoung to have to deal with the scent of arousal lingering in the communal areas.

“Well then, mr. charmer. How about we take this to my room?” You held out your hand, and he took it.

His hand was warm and heavy in yours.

You opened up your bedroom door, and you found yourself staring at his ass as he passed. “What’s your real name anyways?”

“My real name?” The alpha looked around your room with a thoughtful look. “It’s not that important.”

You raised your eyebrows” What do I call you, then?”

“Hmmm.” You couldn’t see his face through his mask, but the way he gazed at you made you feel like you were being stripped apart to your bare bones, and you could imagine the curl of his lips. “You can call me Alpha.”

His scent began to come out stronger, like a breeze on a hot day, and you found yourself hoping it would linger long after he was gone.

You shut the door.

“Well, alpha,” You said, deliberately drawing the word out. “You going to wear that mask all night?”

He seemed to grow almost … shy. “I- actually, I think I’d prefer to keep it on.”

“It’s okay,” You assure him, not wanting him to feel insecure.

“I mean, I do want to kiss you,” He started, taking a step towards you. You could see the moment he hesitated to reach out to you, his hand dropping down to his side in a clenched fist. “If you want, that is.”

You let out a bark of laughter. “Oh sweetie, I’m pretty sure inviting you over was an invitation for much more than just a little kiss.”

This time he didn’t stop himself from reaching out to you, his hands lingering on your waist as his eyes flittered across your space. You reached up for his mask, the idea of kissing him the only thing you can think of. You wanted to know what he looked like. How soft his lips would be.

He grabbed your wrist. “I can’t let you see my face.” He sounded almost regretful.

“It’s okay,” You reassured him once more. “I can close my eyes.”

And you did. You stood there, eyes closed, and let your smile grow as he dropped your wrist, the sound of fabric shifting in front of you. For a second, he left you waiting. You didn’t open your eyes, but you did reach out to place your hand against his bare jaw.

His lips were as soft as you hoped they would be.

Your hands roamed down from his face to his neck, using your grip on his to pull him closer. It felt like he was inhaling your very essence, His scent covered you, and you moaned against his lips as his body pressed against yours. He smiled, lips still pressed against yours.

You pulled away from the kiss, but immediately pushed your face into his shoulder to keep yourself from the temptation of opening your eyes.

“You good?”

“I think it’s going to be a little hard to remember to keep my eyes close if you keep kissing me dumb like that.”

His chest rumbled as he laughed, grip on your waist tightening. “Sorry?”

“Hmmm, it’s not a complaint. Just an observation.” You pulled out of his hold completely, waving your hand in his direction. “Turn around for a second.”

You didn’t wait to see if he did as you asked, moving towards your closet with a goal in mind. It took a little bit of rummaging in the farthest corner of one of your drawers, but eventually you managed to find what you were looking for. You pulled it out with a shout of triumph.

“Is that a blindfold?”

“Yup!” You slapped a hand over your eyes and turned around, wiggling the cloth out in front of you. “Genius, right?”

“You just happened to have that lying around?”

The cloth was pulled out of your hands, and you turned around. “What can I say, I’m full of surprises.”

Warm arms wrapped around your waist. The heat of his body was hot against your back, and as his hands began to trace up and down your sides, you felt something in you shifting. You shuddered, body responding by releasing a wave of your scent, and he responded with his own scent of arousal that made your body feel almost pliant.

“So you are.” The blindfold was pulled over your eyes, and you shut them instinctively. The cloth brushed over your eyelids as he began to form a knot at the base of your head. “Tell me if it’s too tight.”

Your mind began to grow heavy as your omega pushed forward, the smell of alpha heavy on your tongue. When he finished tying off the blindfold, he leaned against your back, his mouth pressing a soft kiss to the juncture of your neck. You tilted your head to the side, an ache to feel his teeth pressing against the skin running through you and causing slick to drip down your thighs.

You let out a whine.

“Easy baby girl. I got you.”

His warmth disappeared, and you opened your eyes. The blindfold made it so that you could make out the shadows of the dark room, a vague shape of a person as they removed their clothes. You reached down to grab the hem of your own shirt.

“No, don’t,” He said, voice thick. “Let me.”

You grabbed his hands, using your newfound sight to reach out wrap your hands around his neck. This time, you were the one to initiate the kiss, eyes falling closed not out of necessity but on instinct.

“You okay?” He asked you again when your knees suddenly buckled.

“Like I said. Those kisses of yours are dangerous,” you breathed out.

He decided to take it as an invitation to pull you back in for another kiss, although this one was quicker and sweeter.

It almost felt like love.

His lips pressed against yours once, twice, and then a third time before he trailed them down to your jaw, sliding them slowly down to your neck. When he began to suck against the skin there, you pulled away with a whine.

"No marks, please. I have work."

He moved his hands under your shirt and began to pull it up. You could only barely see his figure as he leaned down, his lips reappearing against the tops of your now exposed breasts.

"I assume you mean no marks where they can be seen?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm." He pressed a kiss to your skin, tongue darting out to glide from the tops of your breast towards your nipples. He teasingly pulled against them as he passed, moving to press another kiss just to the side. "Is this okay?"

"Yes," You said, voice breathless.

He pulled your shirt off completely, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. He began to lead you towards the bed. Even without your sight, the mattress was familiar under your body, and you instinctively relaxed into the sheets.

You made grabby hands at him. He laughed, kneeling on the bed next to you and allowing your hands to roam across his skin. He still had on his boxers, and when you moved to pull them down, he grabbed your hands and pressed them gently down against the bed.

“Patience,” He told you, his voice rumbling.

You pouted, and he kissed your lips with another laugh. He continued where he had left off, his mouth on your breasts as his hands grabbed your thighs, pulling them apart so he could slot himself in between them. The motion pressed his clothed cock against your center, and you moaned at the feeling.

“Please,” you found yourself breathing out.

His mouth trailed kisses down your body, hands swiftly pulling both your pants and underwear down in one go. “Got to get you ready first, sweetheart.”

“Awfully confident in yourself, huh?” You joked.

“Hmm, something like that,” He drawled.

You expected him to get straight to it, but he took his sweet time. Laying kisses along your inner thigh, caressing your legs up to your hips. You wiggled your hips impatiently, but he just smiled against your skin.

“You’re doing a really good job at getting under my skin,” You told him, running your fingers through his hair. “If you don’t hurry up, I might just have to get myself off.”

He nosed your center, and your body flared up with want. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Alpha, please.”

“That’s it.” He rewarded you by finally mouthing at your core, licking a stripe up to your clit where he sucked gently.

You were already wet with slick from all the teasing and foreplay, but his mouth on you made you gush, your core clenching around nothing, When he pressed a finger into you, you bucked your hips, and he laid a hand across your stomach to keep you from moving.

You let out a moan, fingers gripping his hair tightly as he ate you out. He added another finger, and the sound was filled with wet squelching sounds as he fingered you gently, softly crooking his fingers to press against your spongey insides as he sucked against your clit.

Your orgasm built up slowly, but it hit you quicker than you expected, your body writhing under him as you whined. He pulled away, his other hand reaching up towards his face, and you could only imagine the sight he made.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he said, finger rubbing small circles against your clit. “Could stay here forever.”

“Please, alpha,” You whined.

“Please what?”

“I need you.”

He moved up your body. “Need me to what?”

“I want you to fuck me,” You said impatiently.

He grabbed your body and flipped you over so quickly that it made your head spin, and you pressed you forehead to your pillow with a gasp, “Ask and you shall receive,” He told you, and you could feel him moving around behind you.

You lifted your hips and presented for the alpha, your omega instincts taking over. His scent intoxicated you, filling your senses and making you feel dizzy, wanting nothing more than to submit to him in every way possible.

He took his sweet time once again, rubbing his member through your folds before he slowly pressed into you. He was right to have prepared you because he was thick, stretching you and filling you up completely. You couldn’t even moan, like your breath had been stolen. Your fingers dug into your blankets, eyes shutting behind the blindfold.

“Fuck.”

The alpha gave you a second to adjust once he had bottomed out, rubbing against your sides gently. “You good, omega?”

“So good,” You mumbled.

When he started to move, it made you whine. He thrust into you slowly at first, but his hips began to speed up slowly, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. You let out a moan as his fingers gripped your thighs, sure to leave marks. You pressed your knees against the mattress and moved to sit up, hands reaching behind you in an attempt to feel his skin against yours. He pressed himself to your back without having to be asked.

His warm breath against your shoulder, mouth teasingly close to your scent gland, had you reaching your release quickly.

You let out a whine.

“Shh, I got you,” he whispered into your ear. His hands roamed from your thighs up your chest and towards your neck, fingers gently pressing against your throat. “God, you’re so tight.”

You whined. “Alpha, please!”

“Just a little longer. You can hold on just a little longer, cant you? Hmm? Don’t you want to be good for your Alpha?”

You were so close. Your body felt like it was on fire and your head spun, the darkness that seemed to engulf you left your nerve endings so sensitive, and you couldn’t see him, could think, couldn’t do anything more than accept the pleasure he was giving you. He seemed to know that you were at your breaking point, because as a whine began to build in your throat, he pulled away.

His fingers pressed right where you needed them most, and you found yourself spiraling.

“Cum for me, Omega.”

You woke up with a start, your mind still heavy with lust and sleep. It took you a moment to realize that you had been dreaming, and then you were falling back to your bed with a groan, swiping a hand down your face.

It was your memories from that night with Chan.

It seemed like your pre-heat sex dreams were making their appearance. Usually they were some random fantasies, but you supposed it made sense that you would be hit with a memory this time around.

Your thoughts wandered to the shirt still in your drawer. It almost seemed to be calling for you.

You let out another groan.

This was going to be a long week.

-0-0-

You were convinced that heat suppressants had to have been created as a form of torture.

The headache made every noise feel like a punch to the brain, not helped by the fact that your hearing was so sensitive that everything above a cough sounded like an airhorn to your brain. Even the painkillers you took that morning were doing little to dull the hammering in your head.

And yet, you tried your best to keep a smile on your face, made ever difficult from having to deal with the managers.

You had been thrown for a loop when you found out on Tuesday morning that Felix had gone into heat. It was all the staff members were talking about. You hoped that the idol’s heat and rut cycles weren’t normally a topic of interest for the company, but you understood why this time they all were freaking out about it.

Stray Kids’ comeback was scheduled for next week.

It would be hard for you to have to go back to work the day after your heat ended, but finding out that Felix was expected to be on stage and promoting less than a week after his almost made you feral.

“What do you mean the comeback will continue as planned?”

Jeonhui gave you a hard look. You knew that as a new employee, and only a translator who was in the meeting to be kept up to date with the upcoming schedule, the idea of speaking out was unheard of. But when the news that the comeback would still be happening on the expected date, your mouth opened before your brain could catch up.

The head manager, Soojin, gave you a puzzled look. “Is there a reason we shouldn’t?”

The entire room was looking at you, but you forced yourself to focus only on the manager. “Felix finished his heat less than a day ago.”

“Yes?”

“Even for a normal person, a comeback is stressful. Long nights, early mornings, practices and schedules and stage performances and interviews … do you really think that’s the best thing for an omega who just had their heat to deal with?”

There was a moment where Soojin looked almost understanding, his eyes soft and a small smile on his face. You thought that you might have actually gotten through to him. You thought for a second that maybe you could make an impact on this company, give them some knowledge of the artists they were supposed to be managing and caring for, and that you could actually change the way the industry worked.

But it shattered with his next words.

“I appreciate the concern, but I assure you our omega’s can handle the load just fine. We’ve had both omegas and alphas going back to work right after heats and ruts, and there’s never been a complaint in the past.” The other staff managers nodded along as if what he was saying was common knowledge. “If they needed more time to recover, they would have said something.”

You thought about the pressure building in your head, the way your skin felt like it was crawling, the constant cramped pain your stomach was enduring, all so that you wouldn’t go into heat. All so you could keep pretending to a room full of betas.

All so that those same betas could make decisions about omega’s and alphas they knew nothing about.

It made you want to scream.

“Maybe,” You managed through clenched teeth. “They never say anything because they know that if they do, the company would use it as proof that omegas are more trouble than their worth.”

Soojin and the other managers gave you a surprised look. From the corner of the room, Maya was given you a proud smile, but the other stylists around her looked confused and even annoyed.

“Why do you care so much about this anyways? What are you, an omega expert?” One of them said.

And his words felt like a bucket of water had been dumped over your slightly overheated body. You immediately bowed your head, realizing that you had brought more attention on your head than was necessary, and it was obvious you were fighting a losing battle.

“I’m just … worried. Just seems like those boys could use some rest,” You mumbled in excuse.

Stupid. How could you be so stupid.

Now everyone would know you as that one translator who argued about an omegas needs. At best they would think you were out of line, but at worst …

“It’s quite alright,” Soojin assured you, although the look Jeonhui gave you told you that the two of you would be talking later. “But like you said, comeback is stressful for all of us, including the staff. This is why we put in all the hard work! I want to take a moment to thank all of the staff for helping make this a possibility-“

And just like that, your little outburst seemed to be forgotten.

It didn’t make you feel any better to know that your words were so easily dismissed. As Thursday turned into Friday, you made the conscious decision to not take your heat suppressants that morning, knowing you would need your heat to start either than night or early Saturday morning if you wanted your heat to end by Sunday night.

You ignored the looks Sooyoung gave you as you left for work.

Just as promised, you had been avoiding her all week. When the cramps hit you late at night and you cried out, you muffled the sound with your pillow to avoid waking her. She didn’t mention the quickly dwindling supply of pain medication (you reminded yourself to pick some up after work).

It made a part of you ache to know you had disappointed your friend. But it also made you feel proud to know that you were still doing what you had dreamed of doing for so long.

You just had to keep moving forward.

Friday went by normally, and almost easier than the past three days. The suppressants started to flush out of your system around noon, and the symptoms you had been dealing with started to fade, making it easier for you to work. The heat symptoms would come around soon, but you weren’t too worried about it hitting you fully until you were back home.

You were just finishing up your last assignment of the day when you caught the scent of a familiar smell.

“Oh no.”

Minho appeared at your doorway within seconds, and you secretly cursed the enhanced sense of smell that had yet to wear off, because the strong scent of alpha had your omega perking their metaphorical ears up instantly.

He had probably just finished dance practice judging by the sweat covered shirt he had yet to change out of.

You forced your eyes away from him and back to your screen. “Can I help you?”

“I’m sorry.”

You paused your typing, risking a glance to look at his face. He looked straight faced, almost bored at first, but you could smell the shame that was hidden beneath the rest of his scent, and you turned to face him completely.

“What are you sorry for?” You asked him.

He looked away. “I yelled at you when we first met. It was … inappropriate.”

“You were protecting your pack,” You corrected him, turning back to your work. “You did what you thought was right.”

Minho continued to stare at you from the doorway, not saying anything. You finished what you were working on and began to wrap everything up so you could leave. In the few minutes it took you to do that, he didn’t say anything.

You grabbed the files you had to drop off to your manager before you left. “I’m serious, Minho. It’s fine.”

When you stood up, a few papers that had been caught under your files fluttered to the ground. Before you could move to grab them, Minho was there, picking up the papers and tapping them on the ground so that they would be stacked up together, lifting his head up to look at you.

And you immediately felt something in your stomach twist, and your head spun.

He stood back up, unaware of your internal freak out, and handed you the papers. You took them with shaking hands.

“Thanks,” You breathed out.

Minho frowned. “Are you okay?”

No, you wanted to scream at him. I’m going into heat and a stupidly handsome alpha was on his knees looking up at me and now I’m losing my goddamn mind.

But instead, you forced a smile on your face. “Fine.” It came out squeaky, and you winced. “I, uh. Gotta go!”

You rushed out of there as quickly as you could.

As if your day couldn’t get any worse, you completely missed an equally sweaty and tired looking Chan as he was walking out of the elevator, and he had to grab your shoulders to keep you from running him over. His scent, equally as strong, only made your chest ache more.

Chan smiled. “Ah, just who I was looking for!”

You eyed him curiously. “Wow, I’m really popular these days, huh?”

“What?”

“What did you need?” You asked him as you walked into the elevator. He followed you in.

“I wanted to let you know that I talked with Felix.”

“Oh, how is he, by the way? I heard about what happened.”

Chan gave you a soft smile. “Ah, he’s fine. He …. He wants to meet with you.”

The elevator opened, and someone stepped in. It was a random staff member you didn’t recognize, probably not even a stray kid’s staff member, but both you and Chan remained silent until she left. You turned to Chan as the elevator made its way up to your manager’s floor.

“I think we should wait until after your comeback,” You told him.

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” Chan sighed. “We’ll have enough on our shoulders this week.”

You scowled. “Ugh, don’t even remind me.”

He let out a laugh. “Ah, I heard about what you did yesterday.”

You covered your face in embarrassment as the elevator door opened. “Uh, I’m just going to go before I say anything even worse.”

Chan was still laughing as you left, but he called out for you before the doors closed. His smile was one of the last things you saw as his words reached you.

“Thank you.”

[iwritefandomimagines]

FIRST AND LAST — PRINCE FRIEDRICH

masterlist

pairing: prince friedrich x reader

description: it has been tradition all season long that prince friedrich occupies your first and last dance of every evening. it is well known that his engagement is looming, so no man dares ask to take these dances from him. that is, until one clueless lord makes that awkward mistake.

warnings: pure fluff, tiny bit of jealousy from my sweet prince, but predominantly pure, tooth-rotting fluff !

“The season is almost over,” Daphne Bridgerton hummed, flitting her fan across her chest as you stood at the edge of the ballroom, “Do you think the prince might propose this evening?”

You laughed, watching as the prince eyed you from across the floor despite dancing with another young lady.

“I hope so,” you replied, pure happiness in your tone as you thought of the future you had discussed so extensively with the man who had won your heart with such ease, “Though he himself requested a long courtship. Oh, Daph, you should’ve heard him. He told me he was certain he was falling in love with me and wished to wed, but that he wanted to prolong our courtship to ensure I too was certain.”

“Gosh, Y/N, how romantic,” Daphne grinned.

“He is absolutely a dream,” you fanned yourself now too, growing flushed at the thought of just how deeply your feelings for the Prussian prince ran, “I of course told him I feel the same regardless, but he said that though he’d wed me in a heartbeat, it was fun to pretend we were still in the early stages of courting. And of course, I save every first and last dance for him and only him.”

Daphne was swooning at the prospect, and given her confusing situation regarding her ruse with the Duke, their sudden marriage, and how in love they quite clearly were, you were unsurprised that she was so excited to hear that your blossoming relationship was thriving so.

“Speaking of which, my dear friend,” she lifted your dance card from your wrist to see that as ever Prince Friedrich’s name graced the bottom of your card, “It appears you have danced with all others.”

As you looked away from her, you saw the prince smile in your direction, sending your heart into an absolute frenzy, “He appears to be on his way over!”

Before he could cross the floor, however, a gentleman you barely recognised obscured your view of the man you loved, stepping directly in front of you with a smile on his face.

“Lady Y/N,” the man bowed, “I am Lord Francis. I apologise for never making your acquaintance sooner, for my work and travels delayed my arrival in the Ton,” he took your hand to kiss its back, and as he leaned to do so you saw the prince behind him with a frown on his face, now mere meters away, “You are truly a diamond, and I should most certainly wish to know you more. You cannot imagine my relief upon seeing that you were yet unbetrothed. Might I have your next dance, my lady?”

You swallowed thickly, looking to Daphne for help but finding that she had slipped away amidst his little speech.

You were tempted to scoff at the man’s audacity to so abruptly ask of a dance at the end of the evening when he had chosen so late in the hall to introduce himself. And, of course, you were entirely uninterested.

Before you had the opportunity to respond, however, Prince Friedrich was at the man’s side.

“Ah, Lady Y/N,” he bowed, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it that lingered as he looked up at you and made you swoon, “Each time I see you in that necklace I am reminded why I selected it for you. It was made for you, to be sure.”

You giggled shyly, both feeling giddy around the man you loved and at the clear reason for his choice of words. He was here to assert his place, jealousy coursing through his royal blood.

“Oh your highness,” you curtsied, “Thank you again for the beautiful gift. I was wondering when you might return to share my last dance, as always. I do so look forward to it,” you flashed your dance card to the rather impertinent Lord Francis with a falsified frown, “I do apologise, my lord, but I have not yet shared my final dance with anyone but the Prince. And I do not wish to change that tradition.”

The gentleman scampered away without another word, leaving the prince to capture you in his arms and lead you to the dance floor.

“I am certainly glad to be rid of that fool,” he grumbled, and you reached up to run your thumb along his cheekbone soothingly, internally frustrated that the action would end up in Lady Whistledown’s writings the next day.

Your voice was barely above a whisper, “Oh my love, you needn’t worry. You know that if I could I would dance only with you the entire night.”

The prince was more than satisfied with this, a broad smile gracing his strong features as you continued the rhythm of the waltz you found yourself in.

“I am pleased to hear that, to be sure,” he beamed, “And once this dance is through, I hoped we might have a moment to talk. Perhaps on the balcony?”

You nodded softly, “Any moment with you, I could never deny myself.”

He smiled, and as the dance drew to a close you found yourself growing nervous.

Had this small moment of jealousy spurred on a proposal? Or perhaps he had always intended to propose tonight?

Perhaps it was not a proposal at all, and he just wished for some fresh air and a chance to chatter away from the eyes and ears of the ballroom?

You caught Daphne’s eye as you followed the prince outside, noticing her eyes widen in excitement as she too expected you to return to the ballroom engaged.

You bit your lip, allowing yourself to share her excitement for just a moment before nerves slipped into your mind again.

You reached the balcony after what felt like hours, with time seeming to progress in slow motion as you waited to hear what it was the prince wished to discuss.

“My dearest Lady Y/N,” he began, capturing both of your hands in his as his eyes twinkled down at you in the moonlight, “You must know that since we met, you have been the sun around which I revolve. You captured my heart the very moment I first saw you, and with every discussion of a future I have grown more certain that it is with you I wish to build a life, a home, a family,”

“Oh my dear prince,” you were certain you could taste blood, your heart pounding with anticipation as it truly sunk in just what was going on, “You must know that the feeling has always been entirely reciprocated. Every moment I have spent with you has been blissful, and I rather selfishly wish for an eternity of such moments.”

He shook his head, “It is not at all selfish, my dove. For it is what I wish for too. An eternity with the love of my life at my side, wherever we might find ourselves.”

You shared a brief moment of comfortable silence, staring into each other’s eyes as you could think about nothing but his gentle touch and romantic words.

He was everything you could’ve dreamed of in a man, and now here he was professing that he too was enamoured by you.

Even though he had made it quite clear how he felt before, in this very second everything felt as though it fell perfectly into place.

The true love you always dreamed of finding but never expected to… He was right here, about to ask for your hand and sweep you off of your feet.

“It is for this very reason, my love,” he began again, keeping his hold of your left hand but dropping to his knee in a split second, “That I find myself desperate to ask — will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

“My gosh!” you exclaimed, nodding excitedly as he slipped the most beautiful ring onto your finger and rose to his feet again, “I would love to. I can think of no future more exciting than one as your wife.”

He kissed your hand again, now peppering kisses around the ring he had just given you, sending sparks throughout your body at his delicate touch.

“I cannot wait to begin our life together properly, as man and wife,” he grinned, reaching to push a stray hair from your face as he spoke, “Free of meddlesome gentlemen who have no regard for one’s prior commitment.”

“My darling, you truly had no need to worry,” you giggled, lifting your free hand to your mouth to stifle it a little, “He could not hold a candle to you, and I would never have given up my dance with you for him. I wish always for my first and last dance to be with you… And every dance in between.”

He pulled you flush to his chest now, spinning you softly to the faint sound of the orchestral tune still playing in the ballroom.

“Then my every dance is yours, my love,” he hummed, discreetly pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he spun you around, “Always and forever.”

“I love you,” you were truly in a state of pure bliss as you danced, choosing to ignore that you were most certainly being watched, “More than I can ever express.”

“I love you as such also, my future princess,” he replied, pausing your dance just to look at you intently again for just a second before he spoke, “And I shall spend our whole life showing you.”

“I am so incredibly lucky to have fallen in love with you,” you shook your head in disbelief, still smiling up at him.

“It is I who is lucky,” he disagreed, looking up into the night sky littered with stars, “And the stars in the sky are lucky to every day be graced with your existence too.”

“You flatter me, my love.”

“And I intend to continue to remind you how wonderful you are, my dove,” he practically whispered, dipping his head lower so that you could feel his breath fanning over your face, though not close enough to induce any more scandal than your balcony dance might already have done.

“It’s a pleasure to be forever your first and last dance… And I can only hope to be your first and last love, if you would let me. For you most certainly shall be mine.”

“You shall be mine too, my love. I am certain of it.”

———

ok fluffy af because i am currently in looove with the prince and idk where it came from but i had to write this once i had the idea!!!

if you have any requests (right now preferably bridgerton, djats or criminal minds) then please feel free to send them in and i’ll make a start this week!

also pleaaase let me know in comments/reblogs what you think!

in the meantime, here is my masterlist!

[radioisntdead]

Grunkle…. Ford…. Dinner date……………

HAPPY [slightly belated] BIRTHDAY MY DEAREST MOONY! I HOPE YOU HAD A WONDERFUL DAY, YOU CAN LEGALLY DATE FORD NOW [please don't] OR GET ARRESTED AND I'M SORRY THIS WAS DELAYED! LOVE YOU!

Dinner date at Greasy's

Ford x reader

Song used

First date Headcanons + established relationship songfic drabble

Warnings: This is my first time writing for Ford so please forgive any OOC-ness

Well aren't you a lucky duckling! You got a date with one of the most desired old men in gravity falls!

Thank his grandniece Mabel for pushing him to ask you out because now the two of you were on a date! There weren't many fine dining restaurants in gravity falls and the ones that were around Stan had gotten himself, and by extension Ford, banned from them!

Dude's last uh, romantic?? Obsessive??Relationship didn't really end well, but you weren't a triangle with one eye so hopefully things will go well!

Since this is your first date, He got coached on what to do by Mabel and likely has an earpiece where the twins are watching him, giving advice and judging him.

He pulled out the chair for you to sit in, very demure, very mindful, very gentlemanly, very Mabel approved.

I imagine the two of you bond over the oddities of gravity falls, Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons or science-y stuff

He'd tell you about his adventures with his brother on the Stano'war, I imagine he's the type to have pictures of his family in his wallet so dude just whips out pictures of Dipper and Mabel like "These are my grandniece and nephew,''

I imagine you share a dessert with him, one plate two spoons, very romantic!

You were giddy, legs kicking softly back and forth underneath the table as you stared at your boyfriend reading his menu, trying to figure out what he wanted.

Moon, a hole of light

Through the big top tent up high

Here before and after me

Shinin' down on me

Stanford Pines, the handsomest man in town, in your opinion anyway, and you were just so lucky to have him all to yourself, you had been with him for awhile now, you remember when he first asked you out,

He was shoved in front of you by his grandniece, Mabel, with flowers in his hand he finally asked you out on a date to greasy's diner!

And here you were nearly a year or so later back at the diner.

Moon, tell me if I could

Send up my heart to you?

So, when I die, which I must do

Could it shine down here with you?

You laid your head in your hand as you watched him, you were like a lovesick newlywed despite not being married to the man, not yet at least.

'Cause my love is mine, all mine

I love mine, mine, mine

Eventually Lazy Susan came by to take your orders, you loved his voice as he spoke, you loved the way his eyes crinkled, you loved the crack in his glasses that you wondered why he hasn't replaced them yet, you loved the way he wore a trench coat over a sweater no matter the weather, you loved the way he was outdated on modern technology like a silly old man.

Nothing in the world belongs to me

But my love, mine, all mine, all mine

Once Susan had taken away the menus he set his hand on the table in which you immediately decided to interlace your hand with his, holding it as you waited for your food to arrive.

It was like something out of a cheesy movie.

My baby here on Earth

Showed me what my heart was worth

Ford was lucky to have you, Wonderful, intelligent, beautiful you!

He never thought he'd have someone like you, he never had the best experiences with romance wether that be getting rejected by a girl at prom several decades ago or a weird toxic situationship with a yellow triangle.

But now he had you! You were healthy for him, the two of you were healthy for each other, you didn't mind when he rambled on about whatever, whether that be Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons or his sciencey inventions, his adventures through the dimensions or even just his day.

And he was the same way, oh how he could listen to your lovely voice for hours upon hours, like music, it didn't matter what you spoke about, whether it was just about your day, whether you were complaining about something, anything really he adored listening to you, he loved the little spark in your eyes when you talk about something you really like.

So, when it comes to be my turn

Could you shine it down here for her?

He loved watching you as you do whatever hobbies you did, he thrived in the times where he'd do his work in one side of the room and you were on the other side doing just anything, just silently enjoying each other's company.

Was that extremely cheesy of him to think? Most definitely but a little bit of cheesey-ness never hurt anybody, unless you were lactose intolerant.

'Cause my love is mine, all mine

I love mine, mine, mine

Soon Susan returned with your meals, placing them in front of the two of you, you let go of his hand to begin digging into your meal, Ford frowned at the lack of hand holding for a moment before going to dig into his own meal, He would never admit that he was a little touch starved, yearning for touch, hugs or handholding were his personal favorites.

But he was a grown man, he could wait until the two of you returned home to wrap you in a warm embrace.

Nothing in the world belongs to me

But my love, mine, all mine

For now He'd enjoy your date, admiring you as you admired him like the lovesick fools the two of you were, He was glad to have you, and you were glad to have him.

Nothing in the world is mine for free

But my love, mine, all mine, all mine

Good evenin' folks! I do hope you enjoyed my first gravity falls fic, wish Moony a happy birthday and as always thank you for tunin' on in, I hope you all have a wonderful night!

[xxsycamore]

OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!

╰┈➤ Four times William uses his curse on you to control your orgasms.

William Rex/f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Established Relationship; Orgasm Control; Forced Orgasm; Orgasm Denial; Mind Control; Multiple Orgasms; Aftercare; Gentle Sex; Kink Negotiation; Dirty Talk; Overstimulation; Coming Untouched Enthusiastic Consent Public Sex; Masturbation; Lingerie Strip Tease; Begging Light Dom/sub Dominance; Vaginal Fingering Praise Kink Discipline • wordcount: 2,458 • masterlist

Visions of Temptation 2024/KINKTOBER DAY 4: Orgasm Control

The first time it's brought up, you are both in bed.

Lying on William's naked chest, you bask in the afterglow of hours spent making love to him. He did you so well; the slight soreness of your limbs only serving to emphasize how well he loved you tonight. Getting lost in the endless blood-red pools of his eyes, you draw little patterns around his collarbones, making him chuckle as his own restless hands roam your sides.

"William… I want more…"

Your voice is tiny, despite his countless attempts to make you greedy, to bring out a side of you that would take from him as much as you want to. He gives you a little "Oh?", dripping with that sultry but elegant tone that you simply cannot resist.

"What am I gonna do with you, my little Robin?"

You lower your head, breaking the eye contact for a second as you bury your face into the crook of his neck instead.

"You don't have to do much… I'm still so sensitive all over that I feel I'd come undone if you as much as lay a finger on me…"

William produces another small laughing noise, the sound vibrating close to where your lips linger - the next time you lift your upper body to look at William again, your lips graze his beautiful neck in a chaste kiss. He simply looks at you with interest, probably wondering what else goes on in that head of yours.

"Let's see, then."

Without wasting any time, one of his hands snakes its way down your backside and between your legs. He collects some of your slick, a sweet combination of his and your juices, and reaches further down to play with your clit.

"Mmnh…"

Little sparks of overstimulation run through you, but they do nothing to distract you from the rapidly growing pleasure that William gives to you. Bracing yourself with arms propped up on both sides of his head, you slowly lift your face to look at him - to kiss him, or to tell him you're coming, anything - but as soon as your gaze meets his piercing scarlet one, you simply tip over the edge and come undone on the spot.

William lets you ride out your orgasm, your hips basically humping his fingers as you thrash around; his other hand wrapping around your back to hold you in place, gently. Once your body relaxes and he hears your tired pants, head buried in his neck again, he whispers close to your ear:

"My, did I accidentally use my curse on you? I said nothing, yet it's like you came just from looking into my eyes, little Robin. How sweet."

For a moment both of you remain quiet. William's complex feelings surrounding his ability are a topic you've already had the chance to communicate with him, and you'd assured him you're not afraid of looking into his eyes. Still, it's a sensitive thing to talk about - even if he's the one mentioning it in the first place - you're not sure how to respond, but you don't want to delay your response for too long either.

"It's true that if you were to use it on me like this, it wouldn't be much different, haha… I love your eyes, William."

Oh no, what have you done? Bitting on your bottom lip, you almost jump as his breathy chuckle blows an emission of cool air close to your temples.

"What are you imagining, exactly? Me ordering you to come undone whenever I wish to?"

"T-That's not-!"

"I need to say I'm not opposed to the idea. As long as you are feeling comfortable with me doing this."

There's something akin to butterflies, a fluttering sensation in the pit of your belly, as the fantasy he created for you becomes more and more vivid.

"I… I want you to try…"

William silently caresses your spent body some more, kissing the crown of your head, and then at last he speaks again.

"We can do that tomorrow then, if you still want to. Now get some sleep, my dear."

As if you can sleep after knowing what's to come…

The first time it actually happens, you immediately want it to happen again.

Sprawled across the bed on your back, your fingers dig into the bedsheets on both sides of your body as William rains kisses across your sensitive chest. You both know what's to come, but he's far more collected than you are. He always is. If it weren't for the fact that you know him inside and out, you wouldn't notice the little hints of hesitation in his otherwise precise actions. The way he stops his ministrations the second you start to moan too much, his fingers dipping ever so shallowly inside you. You know well the source of his hesitation, however, and it keeps you relaxed. Rather than questioning the trust you put in him, he's probably wondering… if you're stimulated enough.

"My darling Robin, are you ready to follow my order?"

You find his eyes before he can even finish his question. It says more than your response would say, but you still nod, wet your lips, and answer properly.

"Yes. Please."

It's like diving into the unknown; both for you and for him, almost in a manner that is special to you, to have another first together, to share the feeling of this discovery. You like seeing him like this, a new light behind his eyes, a curiosity that paints his gaze somewhat more playful, youthful.

"Come for me."

A strong current of pleasure zaps through you, like a lightning bolt, a force you cannot stop. Your muscles contract, your walls squeeze around nothing as you ride out an orgasm that is like nothing you've ever felt before.

The concern surrounding his usage of the curse was simple. It's well known that he can control people's minds with it - and while the mind is connected with the body, neither of you can know for sure if the little experiment would be successful. Without an external source of stimulation, it would be very tormenting if your mind was set on to achieve something that is not within its powers. William would have been there for you, should that be the case, fast to assist you in finding your peak so you can execute his curse's order and find peace.

But none of this is needed, because the only thing you're granted with is pure bliss. Like being able to see the sparks of energy passing through your neurons in an absolute spectacle of the senses, you experience great pleasure beyond any other. The reason? Receiving so much direct stimulation without the distraction of being physically touched leaves you with the ability to feel nothing but pleasure. It's mind-blowing.

When you come down from your high, William gazes over you with so much lust in his eyes that you almost get scared. He must have enjoyed the sight.

"My dear… you are…"

"William, please do that to me again! I want to experience it again!"

Surprise blooms on William's face as he stares at you in disbelief. Here he was ready to tend to you should the whole ordeal tire you, overstimulate you in a way, or completely turn you off, or else-

"Come."

In a flash, your torso lifts off the bed, body as tight as a string, almost as if possessed. You don't understand any of how this works, and you don't want to. Without needing to recharge, to build up a new wave of arousal, your body simply obeys and fills itself with nothing but pleasure.

You descend from your peak, but not into the softness of the mattress - rather, it's William who pulls you into his embrace, starved to feel you against him. You can only imagine how much he longs to put his hands on you now, to love you how he knows best.

The first time it catches you off-guard, you're in public.

Exploring this new method of playing with you has become a fixation of William's. He'd tease you in so many ways; commanding you to come even while he's inside you, just to watch how much your pleasure heighens when he completely domineers over your senses like that. The spike in his libido and in his dominance comes as a surprise but you don't want him stopping anytime soon. It's not long before you give him your consent to take this game out of the bedroom, whenever he sees fit. He did it once in the carriage when the two of you were in a hurry, even if it only made the urgency to entangle your limbs that much greater in the end.

With a pause of a day or two since the last time he used his curse on you, it's the ideal period of time to lower your guard for this.

You and William are out on a date today, already seated at the theater and waiting for the play to begin. The seats William reserved are located in the opera box, with no more than a handful of people sharing the space with you, and even those are situated far enough to your right to cease noticing their presence at all, especially once the lights are dimmed. You're more than happy with this luxurious arrangement, looking forward to seeing the play while in the company of your lover.

It hasn't been long into it when William suddenly takes off his coat.

"Are you cold, my dear? Please, allow me."

You watch William in confusion as he proceeds to put his coat on you, like a blanket draped over your front.

"Thanks, William." You reply with a smile, not minding his gesture at all, but when you direct your gaze back to the stage below, you see him from your peripheral vision with his gaze still latched on you.

A devious thought creeps into your head, and you feel like you know exactly what is going to happen if you meet William's gaze right now. And you do exactly that.

William's voice is but a whisper, enough just for you to hear.

"Come."

Your fingernails bite into the velvety armrests of your seat, a tremor going through your body, and now you see the purpose of his coat. William is too sly for his own good, you manage to think through the euphoria, as the need to moan his name almost overpowers your self-control. The cacophony of noises produced by the actors down below drowns the small whine you let out as the last of the waves of pleasure wash over you, and only the pleasant buzz remains.

William places his hand over yours, entwining his slender digits with yours. You spend the remainder of the play just like this.

The first time you're the one wanting it, he has you begging for it.

He's in his chair, lightly swinging a glass of wine, savoring his drink without a hurry in the world. Why would he? You waltzed in here clad in a brand new set of lingerie underneath your robe, and you agreed when he requested for you to put on a little show for him first. It's been a while now since the silky red undergarments have been discarded on the floor and you'd begin touching yourself all for him to watch. But no matter what you do, with the anticipation that you're going to receive a much bigger treat than those sorry fingers of yours, you simply can't reach your peak on your own.

"William, please…"

"Please what, my Robin?"

"Please make me cum! Command me to cum! I can't do it without you, William, please!"

William's smile grows. You'd think he's satisfied with your pleas if it weren't for the casual way he takes a sip of his wine, not looking like someone soon to take action.

"Keep playing with yourself, it's a pleasure for my eyes."

You whine at his words, fingers rubbing harder in hopes that you can somehow put an early end to this and then move on to what you really are after. With your current position kneeling on the carpeted floor, you can easily put your other hand to work as well, parting your knees just a little more apart so you can freely finger yourself all for William's eyes to see. He's not that harsh. He's never been. You're sure he'll let you come anytime now.

Just when the added simulation begins to take an effect on you, there's movement from your lover. The wine glass is set down as he slowly shortens the distance, and to your surprise, sinks one knee to the floor so he can be close enough to touch you.

His manicured hand reaches out until it's directly on your clit, your own falling to the side as your mind screams a thousand times 'yes' with anticipation to finally get some real stimulation.

As expected, it takes no time for William's familiar touch to send you to the edge. Your body language does little to hide the telltale signs of your quickly approaching climax as William's free hand suddenly captures your chin, making you lock eyes with him.

"Don't come."

As if an invisible barrier prevents William's touch from actually reaching you, all stimulation is cut out. No, you still feel it, undoubtedly - yet your brain is confused, the signals not getting through, as you whimper and cry out in frustration.

"No—Please, William, Please! I need it, please let me cum!"

William removes his hand and you practically bend forward, trying to chase after his touch, on your hands and knees before him.

"Please, William!"

He needn't tilt your chin this time - you've been eagerly waiting for it, your eyes trained on him the entire time - and when he rises to his feet you feel devastated, afraid he's getting further away from you. When your face is this close to the floor and he's risen to his full height, he looks almost intimidating.

"Come, my Robin."

You feel a powerful full-body shudder that washes over you, something like pure ecstasy as your head falls between your arms, spine arching and hips trembling.

"William…William…ahhh…"

You feel a gentle touch on your cheek and you can do little other than nuzzle into it, thankful for the mercy he showed.

"Let's get you to bed now, my lovely Robin. You did so well. I want to spoil you thoroughly now."

Basking in his praise, all that you can think about is making him even prouder of how disciplined you can be… You wonder if next time he would even need to use his curse on you at all.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @devonares @galaxyprison   @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @natimiles @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @groovylita Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[vicvulpes]

hiii guyyss hiii tumblr dbd fandom

I came from twitter and wanna try using tumblr

a couple of days ago I came to dm of my fandom bestie @adskayapanda with a discussion about painland hanahaki au

then I decided that I wanted to describe it in more detail and post it on twitter AND THEN all this shit happened there that made our beautiful jayden revri deactivate his twitter account and want to stop all interaction with the fandom altogether

so I don't want to post this on twitter yet

hope you like it, have a nice read🤍

✨SO PAINLAND HANAHAKI AU✨

it's a dubious idea I agree BUT PLS HEAR ME OUT

I know it's weird considering that the main point of hanahaki au is that the living characters ARE DYING OF NOT MUTUAL LOVE AND HERE OUR TWO JERKS ARE ALREADY DEAD BUT

let's imagine that in the afterlife this works in a special way: for example flowers in the lungs feel about the the same as cat scratches or iron

and in particularly advanced cases of illness instead of death the ghost may simply disappear forever

btw it's worth noting that cases of illness are rare even in the world of the living, not to mention the dead but we all know how "lucky" edwin is for all kinds of suffering

soo just imagine after confessing in hell charles begins to notice how edwin is increasingly abruptly going somewhere perhaps not turning pale like alives but e.g. sometimes becomes slightly transparent and in principle begins to avoid his company

and then he abruptly begins to find scraps of bright red poppies in the office (neatly collected in a bouquet or bag) and thinks that these are gifts from edwin's new admirers or new attributes for spells (if we are talking about bags with petals you never know what they can be useful for charles is not so well versed)

but one day edwin doesn't have time to escape and charles accidentally finds him in another attack

charles did not really believe that people could have hanahaki at all - there were legends about it and nothing more but for ghosts hanahaki does not make sense at all!! they are ALREADY dead! - charles thinks trying to calm down and watching edwin vomit bright red petals

he doesn't recognize these flowers at first..

but when almost a whole flower bursts out of edwin's throat the realization suddenly comes along with a sudden flashback from childhood - charles often ran away from home at an early age when his father raged too much just to the nearest poppy field - and then brought small bouquets from it for his mother

charles's heart sank with realization

it hurts him to look at edwin in such a state and realize that it is entirely his fault that he did not reciprocate such a wonderful man as payne but it hurts even more to think that he will somehow misunderstand his feelings and break edwin's heart

and therefore after charles took care of edwin during the attack it was tacitly decided not to discuss it as always

(but edwin of course has already studied everything about hanahaki and knows what it leads to, but he tries (unsuccessfully) to calm himself with thoughts that, at least, this is not hell and that he did everything that depended on him - confessed his feelings)

and as a result, it turns out that boys "live", solve cases, and charles literally watches edwin fade away - his body is becoming more transparent, more and more often he turns into a ball shape in order to imbue himself with at least some energy and delay the moment of the inevitable even a little bit, but this is not enough for a long time

and edwin despite feeling as bad as possible tries to hold on as best he can and gets so many cases that there is not thes lightest extra second to think about his tragic situation

and charles understands the horror of the situation (and finally realizes his feelings) when e.g. edwin suffering from a particularly severe attack goes without warning for a week's treatment to some hermit sorcerer in his wilds for a rare ritual that promises to at least alleviate the symptoms of hanahaki and prolong the existence of a ghost and at most to completely cure it

and charles thinks that he is gone forever (cause just the day before while investigating another case leafing through the book "magical diseases" he came across a chapter about hanahaki among ghosts where some main points were highlighted in blue pencil and edwin's hand as well as repeated handwritten notes - edwin obviously studied for a long time and tried to do everything possible to improve his well-being. and in the end of page the inevitable scary result DEATH is emphasized and at the bottom there is a footnote that death for a ghost is a conditional removal from the universe he generally will cease to exist)

and this is the very moment when charles realizes everything - that he simply cannot exist without his edwin and that the feelings in his heart are not just friendly

at first when charles doesn't find edwin he thinks that he just left on business as often happens

then when he conditionally doesn't return in the evening charles begins to worry

BUT WHEN EDWIN HAS BEEN GONE FOR 2-3 DAYS CHARLES STARTS PANICING AND LITERALLY GOES CRAZY

he can't find peace worries panics tries to do something find edwin convinces himself that everything is fine AND THEN CATCHES HIMSELF THINKING THAT EDWIN MAY NEVER COME BACK (AND ALL BECAUSE CHARLES DID NOT RECIPROCATE IN TIME AND NOW IT'S TOO LATE!!) AND HE'S HAVING A TERRIBLE TANTRUM

and when edwin arrives a week later CHARLES IS ALREADY ON THE VERGE OF MADNESS AND AFTER HE SEES EDWIN HE CAN'T DECIDE WHAT HE WANTS MORE - TO KISS HIM RIGHT HERE AND RIGHT NOW WITH NO WORDS OR KILL HIM A SECOND TIME HIMSELF

(after all he doesn't do any of this just hugs and sobs on his shoulder choking in tears wailing how he was afraid that edwin had disappeared forever)

then charles sits edwin down on the couch and interrogates WHAT ACTUALLY THE FUCK WHY THERE WERE NO WARNINGS OR NO NEWS FROM HIM

and edwin rather casually replies that he felt unwell and went to be treated by some sorcerer who promised to rid him of hanahaki (here he adds that his stupid feelings initially interfere with both of them and charles's heart feels like it's splitting)

(wow edwin looks noticeably better, - thinks charles)

and then charles's already nonexistent heart suddenly sinks into his heels - it seems to him, judging by how well edwin looks and holds himself that he succeeded

which means only one thing - he managed to stop loving charles - just at the moment when charles finally so acutely realized that he loves him back, that's so unfair!

having received this realization charles abruptly gathers up wipes his tears pulls away slaps edwin on the shoulder congratulates him on his recovery and begins to leave

and then edwin who bitterly thinks that charles is making such a mockery of him breaks through: tears flow like a stream his voice breaks and trembles and in his eyes there is a mixture of doom fear resentment impotence and PAIN

with tears in his eyes, he explains that even the promised "wonderful" weekly ritual of that sorcerer could not rid him of these painful damn feelings that spoiled everything from the very beginning and no matter how he tried to get rid of them nothing works

charles turns around in shock and sees how because of all these painful emotions edwin twists another attack of hanahaki

bright red poppy petals fly to the floor again

charles hesitates for just a second and then instantly flies up to edwin falls on his knees in front of him gently grabs edwin's face with both hands forcing him to look into his eyes and in an incredulous whisper clarifies: "so you still love me?"

edwin's eyes start running again counting every red petal on the floor just to avoid meeting the deep brown eyes looking at him such hopefully

charles has enough barely audible "sorry" to immediately start covering edwin's entire surprised face with happy little kisses saying between them how much he loves edwin what a fool he was how scared he was that he might lose edwin forever how he wouldn't let go anymore and a bunch of other sugary nonsense

from that very moment on bright red poppies began to appear in their office only in beautiful carved vases reminding of something personally important for these two dead idiots..

thanks for reading!!🤍

and one more: english is not my native language so I'm so sorry if smth is written incorrectly

[libraryofbronze]

Dommed Through Discord

“Master,” I type carefully, still blinking sleep out of my eyes. I woke up only a few minutes ago and I still feel groggy. The blankets wrapped around me from how I turned and tossed in my sleep. Around me, my room is nice and warm. Familiar and safe and happy. My laptop is propped up on the other side of the bed, just close enough to see and use.

It’s probably a bad habit to go straight from sleep to staring at the screen. In fact, I know for sure it is. A few months ago, I’d probably have never imagined that I would be doing this.

Then again, a few months ago I hadn’t met him yet. A little shiver runs down my spine and I close my eyes. I can’t exactly remember the dreams I was having but I know they got me all hot and bothered. Waking up to a wet pussy isn’t something I used to do either, but I have gotten used to it in the last few weeks.

After all, I’m not allowed to touch myself without permission.

The thought brings blood rushing to my face. Even now, I can’t believe that I agreed to it. I’ve done a bunch of things in the last few weeks that I never thought I would. All for the sake of a man whose face I’ve never seen.

Even as I think that, I know I’m lying. It’s not just for his sake, but mine as well. I love this. I love what he has made me into. My body tingles every time I think of him, and the first thing I do every morning is check to see if he’s online.

We talk through Discord, emails, and sometimes Steam as well. It’s a long-distance relationship and our hours don’t always match but that only makes the time we do have together all the more precious.

I am still blinking sleep from my eyes. My long, dark hair is all in a mess. I toss and turn a lot in my sleep, and I know I am going to have an annoying time fixing it later.

But for now, that doesn’t matter. I stare at the screen, waiting for his reply eagerly. I can see that he’s online, but sometimes he likes to make me wait. A subtle reminder of the power difference between us. He’s in charge, the master, the owner. And I am the pet and the toy, the desperate girl not even allowed to touch herself without permission.

God, I want to touch myself right now. My pussy is throbbing, lingering half memories of my dreams glitter in my mind like shards of silver. Slowly, one of my hands moves under the blanket, pressing against the outside of my panties. I take a deep breath, shuddering at the touch. Fuck!

I should stop. I know I’m not allowed. If master finds out, I’ll be punished again. But it’s hard, and gradually, the silence grows. I start to wonder if he’s not at his computer. But then why is his status set to green?

Then, suddenly, he replies.

“Hey, May.”

May. That’s my name. That’s why I introduced myself to him by the first time we met. But it’s not usually what he calls me. Is he teasing me? Playing with me? I don’t know and for a moment I’m thrown.

But only for a moment.

“Master,” I write back, typing eagerly. “How are you today? Did you sleep well?”

Stupid question, but I can’t think of anything else. My pussy is still throbbing and with extreme effort, I draw my hand away from my wet panties. I’m wearing nothing else, the blankets wrapped around my pale skin. I am breathing a little bit faster, anticipation and eagerness twist within me.

“Well enough,” he replies. “Did you want anything in particular?”

He knows. He has to know. How could he not with a question like that? He always seems to know exactly when I am desperate like this. I delay my response for a few seconds, feeling the blood rushing to my face. A few weeks ago, I’d not even need permission to do this. I’d have laughed at the very thought!

But now I am lying in bed, about to ask my boyfriend for permission to touch my own pussy. Like he owns me. Like I am just a toy to him.

But the thing is, that’s exactly how we both like it. The air catches in my lungs and I close my eyes, savouring the feeling of helplessness and submission before I start to type.

“Master, I’m horny.”

A few seconds pass and he doesn’t respond. My pulse races, and I can feel myself growing ever more desperate. What is he going to say? Will he deny me? He has before. He loves to do it just to show me that he is in charge.

“My little slut,” the words come back. “We played the day before yesterday. Don’t tell me that you want to go again?”

I close my eyes again, loosing a soft moan. May is my name, but between the two of us, I’m his little slut. It’s demeaning and humiliating and I love it.

“Please sir,” I type back. “I’m so horny. I know we played recently, but I’m so wet right now.”

Silence follows again and I feel as if something important is hanging in the balance. My pussy throbs and the possibility of another day of slowly growing arousal fills me with dread. I wanna touch myself so much! It’s not fair that I have to ask permission!

But the fact that it’s not fair is why he has me do it. We both know that he’s in charge. That he is the master and I am the little slut who can’t keep her legs closed.

God, I love this man.

“Are you still in bed, May?”

He knows my schedule well. I nod even though he can’t see it and answer.

“Yes sir. I just woke up.”

“Wasted no time, did you?” I can almost hear his chuckle. Satisfied but not cruel. I was always into BDSM, into giving up control, but it was he who pushed me further and further. Who showed me just how much control I could really surrender.

“Please sir,” I try again, typing with one hand. My other brushes lightly against the material of my panties. The gentle touch makes me shiver.

“Why don’t you ask properly?” His reply comes back. Again, I can almost hear his teasing tone. He likes to tease, does my master. He likes to make me squirm and right now, I am squirming like hell. I know what he wants, and I know that I’ll do it. But I can feel my face heating up as I begin to type out the request in the approved manner.

“Please master, can your little pet slut spread her legs and play with her soaking pusy for you sir?”

My clit throbs as I type, a small moan plays through my throat. I feel hot, my skin tingling as I close my eyes. Fuck, how can he make me feel this way when we aren’t even in the same country?

But he does. He always has. Even if we’re not together, I can still feel his presence. I am still under his control. Still his little toy and every bit his little plaything and I love it.

“Kick off your blankets,” he writes back to me. “And wriggle out of your little panties. But don’t take them off totally. Leave them around your ankle like a slut.”

I do as I am told, my heart beating faster, the cold air pressed against my skin as I peel back the layers of my bedclothes. I make a soft sound, half yearning and half moan. Flushes of heat flash through me. One hand cups my left breast, teasing myself there. My thumb and forefinger gently work my nipple until it’s good and hard.

My back arches, my eyes close. God, it feels so good. My other hand moves to the waistband of my panties, gradually pulling them lower. The elastic clings to me a little as I draw them down my legs. My pussy is wet, and as my arm brushes against it, a little shudder runs through my whole body.

I leave my panties hanging around one ankle, my legs are spread, I’m lying on the bed totally exposed, my back propped up by a pillow just so. My pussy throbs with tightness, and my throat is dry.

“Are you lying in bed naked, my little slut?” My master writes again. “Are your legs open? Is your pussy begging for you to touch it? To stroke it?”

“Yes,” I write back. My heart thundering in my chest. “Oh god yes sir. Please master, please let me touch myself. Please let your little slut play with her pussy like a good toy.”

He takes longer to reply this time. I wonder if he is hard? I hope he is. I can imagine him stroking himself as he reads my words, realises how desperate I am. It’s not the first time I’ve broken down and begged like this. Sometimes he gives me relief.

Sometimes he doesn’t.

I wonder what he will do this time.

“Play with your nipples for me, May.” he writes back after a few moments.

He knows that my nipples are sensitive. Pausing only to write a quick ‘’yes sir’’ I begin to rub and tease them. My long, slender fingers pick at my nipples, caressing them and stroking them and rubbing them. Before long, my body is responding. I am moaning slightly, and shivers of coiling anticipation run through my body. My pussy pulses, my deft strokes are erotic and tender. My eyes flutter, and the feelings rise through me.

I know I am getting wetter and wetter and I still haven’t closed my legs. I’m not allowed to when we play. That was one of the first rules. He told me that if I wanted to be his little slut then I would act like a little slut, and a slut should never close her legs when she’s performing for her master.

I moan, my voice ragged and desperate. Aching need throbs through me. My pussy is hot and tight, tingles of desire and want sweep up my body. It wants to be touched, it wants to be stroked and teased and entered.

Fuck, I want to cum!

“Are you teasing your breasts, May?” master asks. “Have you touched your pussy? I hope not. You know I’ll have to punish you if you do.”

“No sir,” I manage to type with one hand. “But I want to! I want to so much! Please sir! Please, please, please!”

“I’ll think about it,” I can almost hear his chuckle again. Light, not cruel but firm.

“Good,” master says. “Now, I want you to imagine that I am there with you. That it’s me stroking your chest, teasing your nipples. Making you squirm and moan. Can you imagine that?”

“Yes,” I breathe, half gasping in ecstasy. I realise a moment later that he isn’t actually here, so I need to type it out.

“Yes sir, I can imagine it, sir.”

“I’d be so hard for you, my little slut,” he writes back. “Can you imagine it? Can you imagine what it would feel like if I tied your hands behind your back and fucked you then and there?”

I can imagine it all too well. My legs flex, anticipating what it would feel like to have him between them. His cock burying itself inside of me, thrusting and fucking me as my spine arches and my cries gradually turn into a chaotic sound of ecstasy.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” I moan. My nipples feel so good. So sensitive. Little darts of pleasure snap and worm their way down my spine. My mouth is dry, I can barely remember to keep looking at the screen.”

“Or maybe I’d put your collar on you,” Master writes. “Nice and tight just how you like it. Dress you in your black stockings and fuck you against the window. You’d love that wouldn’t you, May? You always love to put on a show, my little slut.”

My desperate murmuring grows ever more desperate. My pussy is throbbing for attention, a needy heat shooting through my body as I gasp and moan and wriggle on the bed like a mad thing. My nipples feel so good, but my pussy would feel better.

But I am not allowed to touch it yet. I’m a good slave. A good slut who does what she’s told. I’ve been naughty a few times and Master is inventive with his punishments.

“Or maybe we could get your little toy,” Master continues “The vibrator that you love so much. I can dial it up and down on my phone, keep you on edge all day. Just leave you on the bed for hours and hours and hours with your legs spread. Wouldn’t you love that?”

Yes! I want to scream, my body shuddering with heat and want. I love it! I want it all!

But right now, I just want to cum!

“Master,” I write desperately. “Please can I touch my pussy, sir?”

A pause.

“You didn’t ask permission properly, my little slut. I should punish you for that. But later. First, you can ask me properly.”

My hips are grinding back and forth now, my fingers work my breasts and nipples, I’m moaning and gasping openly like the slut that he taught me to be.

“Please sir,” I write. “Please can your slutty slave touch herself, master?”

“More humiliating.”

“Please! Please let me masturbate sir! I want to cum!”

“More humiliating.”

My face is burning, my chest is tight. I know he knows what he is doing to me. He’s loving it.

“Please master, can your slutty slave girlfriend fuck herself with her fingers while fantasising about what it will be like when you finally take her for yourself? Can she cum like a whore with her legs spread, moaning your name?”

My heart hammers. Humiliation washes through me but I adore it so. My pussy is pounding, it’s as if electricity is coursing through every cell in my body.

“You can touch yourself, May. But you’re not allowed to cum. Not yet.”

I don’t know what he’s planning but right now, I don’t need to. As soon as I have permission, one of my hands flies to my pussy. I bite my lower lip, my fingers working myself down there. Instantly, the pleasure intensifies, reaching a whole new level. I begin to squeak and moan. My lower lips are already soaked, tingles become waves of sparking pleasure as I twist back and forth in place.

“Oh fuck, master,” I write as soon as I am able. “Oh fuck, it feels so good sir. It feels so good.”

“Do not cum,” my master writes, and I realise with an odd feeling that he isn’t done with me yet. “May, you do not have permission to cum but nor are you allowed to stop. You can slow down, but you have to keep going.”

That’s unfair! I feel the realisation stabbing through me, even as my eager fingers begin to slow, it feels so good. Waves of heat and tightness throbbing through my pussy. How can I resist this?

“You’ll just have to have control, my pet.” My master seems like he read my mind. “I’m sure it won’t be too hard. By the way, while you’re doing that I want you to imagine what it would be like to be fucked by me. What it will be like.”

Oh fuck. How am I supposed to resist cumming while doing that? One hand is desperately kneading my chest, flicking and rubbing and stroking my nipple. My fingers probe and pinch, mixing pain with pleasure. The other is between my legs, my body rocking. Heat flushing through me. I am fucking myself with my fingers now, grinding against my hand. My clit burns and throbs, it feels so good.

I imagine his cock inside of me again. Thrusting, penetrating, filling me up. I begin to grind against the air, matching each of his imaginary thrusts. The air catches in my throat, heat builds between my legs. I am squealing now, static leaping between my nerves.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” I shudder. “Master Ethan! M-master!”

He can’t hear me, but he seems to know what’s happening. I hope he knows how desperate and wet I am. I imagine wrapping my arms around him as fucks me, as he makes me his now and forever.

I am so close! The tide of pleasure threatens to carry me away. I look desperately to the laptop.

“Master, I’m gonna cum!”

“No.”

“Please!”

“Absolutely not, my slut. I told you you weren’t allowed to cum.”

“Then can I stop?”

I imagine the little smile on his face.

“You can’t do that either.”

“Master!”

It’s only a single word, desperately typed, but I hope it can convey my desperation. My whole body feels tight, my muscles are stinging, I’m holding them so tensely. I know I am gonna cum if I keep going, I can feel the orgasm building and building and every part of me is screaming to surrender to it. To let it take me. But I fight it, holding myself back, resisting with everything.

But I am not allowed to stop playing with myself and gradually, my squirming becomes more and more frantic. My gasping breaths are quick and furious. How long has it been? I need to ask again!

“Master please!”

“May, are you disobeying me? You’re not allowed to cum. Now just think how long I could hold you like this, in that state. You’ve surrendered to me and given me everything. You got on your knees and promised to be my little slut, remember? Did you think that would be easy?”

“Please! Please! Pleasepleasepleaseplease!”

I’m reduced to just writing the word ‘’please’’ over and over as my body rocks. I don’t have enough energy to think of anything else to say.

“I suppose I could be convinced,” Master says. “But you have to offer me something. What do you have to trade, May?”

I shake my head. There are tears in my eyes. It feels so good, it’s taking all of my strength of will not to give in and cum. My body is shuddering, shivering and burning all at the same time. I gasp for air, trying to force myself to think.

“I won’t wear underwear, sir!” I write. “I’ll go without it all day and wear a short skirt!”

I can already imagine the humiliation that will come from that. A whole day of knowing that I am only one wrong move away from exposing myself to strangers. I know I’ll be mortified later, but for now, I don’t care. I just wanna cum.

“Not enough.”

“Sir!”

“It’s a start, May, but I am going to need more. How much longer can you hold back again?”

Not much longer, I think. It feels so amazing. My whole body is lighting up. Twisting and gasping and moaning in bed, my legs are still spread, but my pussy is soaking, my fingers sliding in and out of myself more quickly now than ever. I’m so close, I’m so close!

“I’ll wear my vibrator too!” I write, grasping for the first thing I can think of. “I’ll keep it in all day! The one that you can control! You can torture me with it all day! Just let me cum now!”

A shiver snaps through my body, I give a long moan. Feeling as if I am about to break down, but I manage to wrestle myself back. Just about. I know I won’t make it much longer.

My master still hasn’t replied. Is he holding back? Does he want more? What else can I even offer him?

“I’ll make you a video, sir!” I gasp. “When I get home from work, I’ll make a video of me undressing and you can see the kind of soaking mess I’ve become after so many hours with the vibe! And I’ll play with myself! Do whatever you want! Just….just please let me cum now!”

I am spiking, the climax rising. My moment approaching, my fists curl, and I know I am about to cum whether I want to or not.

“All right then, May,” my master writes. “Cum for me you little slut.”

I do, I cum like I never have before. My nerves scream, the world seems to fade and all I am left with is an ocean of pleasure that fills every inch of me. I am moaning his name, my master’s name, like it’s some magical incantation. My body is wracked with convulsions, the strength of my orgasm streams my breath away. I cum with my legs spread like I should, gasping his name until the end.

And then it’s over and I am lying in my bed. The laptop open in front of me, and my master’s latest message.

“Enjoy yourself, did you?”

“Yes sir,” I type shakily. “It was amazing. Thank you, sir. Thank you so much. I love you.”

“I love you too, May,” he writes back. “You little humiliation-loving slut.”

[i-starcreamed]

Since you enjoy the trope, how about "only one circuit slab" with your choice of bot? :3 you know who my #1 is but go with whoever you think it would be most fun with. (If you want a more specific setup I'd be happy to toss some ideas around with you)

hopefully these are good...i had to go with OUR #1 and a couple other bots :3 although you already know that bc you helped with the silly ideas. did not edit this btw my bad if its all over the place

also human reader!! These turned out way longer than I thought, I think idk how to write headcanons and end up writing short imagines but eh, I was inspired

Post includes -> Swerve, Rodimus, and TFP Ratchet

MTMTE Swerve

A completely normal day on the LL, Swerve had closed down his bar for the day and you had stayed back to talk to him even as the last bot left the place. Being the friendly bot he is, he offered to give you a ride back to your room which you accepted

As you rode down the halls of the ship, Swerve mentioned how he has been looking for a roommate for like, ever, and since his room was big enough for another bot it was surely perfect for you.

You agreed of course and he immediately made plans to show you around his humble abode

Well guess what?

You turned the corner and instead of seeing his room there was a big ass crater in place of it

Your jaws dropped and agreed that he can stay In your room instead...at least until his room is rebuilt. Roommates, right?

Only problem blessing was that you had one bed

After some light arguing of who sleeps where, you both settled that you'll sleep awkwardly next to him where he wouldn't crush you and he would turn the other way. You settled down and stared at the ceiling as you stiffly lay there, wanting to give him his space. He respectfully gave you your space but continued to try to make conversation, although it was a bit awkward since you two weren't facing eachother

Another problem arose, you were on the edge of the bed and weren't use to not being nestled into your blankets, the ship was cold, you started shivering.

"I don't even know if you can hear me right now, I mean its not that muffled right? I can always speak a little clearer or louder but I shouldn't keep you up. Are you tired yet? I don't want to-"

"Swerve? Can you turn around?"

He turned and faced the ceiling while his helm turned towards you, he was about to inquire but was immediately silenced when you started climbing him and put down your pillows and blankets on his chest.

"It's uh, its cold. I could always move if you mind th-"

"No."

He blurted out. You could feel the metal beneath you radiate pure heat, more than usual. It was comforting. You sigh and lay down, cuddling up against your blankets and well, him, the best way you could. You could feel the soft hum of his spark beneath you, it was comforting. You didn't pay attention to the way your face heat up as your eyes fluttered shut

Swerve could only lay there, absolutely frozen. For once he was at a loss for words and he wondered if you could tell his spark felt like shooting out of his chest

He slowly reached out, his servo hovering above you for a second. You said you were cold, right? He hesitantly placed one servo above you, it ever so gently cradled your sleeping form.

You bet with that amount of warmth you got the best sleep of your life

He was NOT able to recharge that night. On one hand, he was keeping you safe and warm. On the other, the massive grin on his face would not go away

Maybe his room should get destroyed more often, or just maybe he can delay the reconstruction of it

MTMTE Rodimus

The LL had gone onto another one of its expeditions and you just so happened to have gotten lost with the most reckless but endearingly dedicated mech

It's been hours since you've been treading along this strange planet and during that time, you found out that the locals are not human-friendly whatsoever

It gets to the point where the two of you have gone way too long without any rest/recharge, Rodimus has sent an emergency signal and hoped that someone from the crew would find you two soon. However it gets apparent you both need to make a stop before you both pass out from exhaustion, especially you

Rodimus insists on transforming into his alt mode and you sleeping there until the morning, but you're equally as stubborn and insist on keeping watch for him.

He only agreed because of how blushy that made him. You, his special human, want to protect him even in these circumstances? Fine, you can sit on his shoulder and keep watch while he settles down to avoid using any more energon

Not even 10 minutes later, he feels your head suddenly rest near his neck-cables.

"Y/N?"

No response except your soft breathing, there's a soft smile on his faceplates knowing that you had fallen asleep.

He carefully takes you from his shoulder and transforms, in a split second you were laying down and peacefully sleeping in his alt-mode.

It may not be a bed/circuit slab but you're the only human he'd let sleep in his alt-mode, expect the seats to be warm when you wake up or his engines to purr if he's driving

Absolute endless teasing back on the LL btw, WILL ask for you to sleep in his alt-mode again or to have some sort of sleepover

TFP Ratchet

This medic is the definition of overworking yourself

Rarely ever he gets to recharge NEAR you and you swore you have never seen him actually recharge without Optimus or you begging him

This specific day wasn't any different, except you kept tossing and turning in your bed. Something was bothering you and you weren't sure what, it just did not let you sleep. No matter how tired you felt, your body would not let you rest.

Cue you going to accompany Ratchet and him being concerned and scolding you as to why you were up at such an hour

You responded with a slow frog blink

"I can't sleep."

He lets you stay with him a while and just hopes you'll fall asleep eventually, it had happened before after all. He puts you on his shoulder and otherwise continues working, fully expecting you to fall asleep in a couple of minutes

30 minutes go by and you're still awake somehow, your half-lidded eyes staring and probably getting fried by the screen. He has a small mental battle with himself before he sighs and decided to...stop working (explodes)

"Will you get some sleep if I...if I stay with you?"

He says it almost reluctantly. But only you know that its a genuine offer. If you weren't so tired you would've leaped up in the air and shouted YES!! But instead you sleepily nodded your head and clung onto him.

He groaned and headed over to his room which was bland besides some belongings, gifts from the kids, and his unused recharge slab.

There he would lay down, expecting to wait for you to sleep and then continue his work. But he didn't expect it to be this relaxing

You laying there with him, near his shoulder armor and neck-cables, softly breathing and huddled against him. It didn't take him long for his exhaustion to finally catch up to him. He blames you for being so...calming and wonderful.

Before he drifts into recharge, he turns his helm towards you so his cheek is still in contact with you. Hes just trying to make you comfortable obviously, no, it's not out of his own enjoyment. Hes just tired, okay?

Speak of it in the morning and suddenly he forgets how to talk and cant get an explanation out without sputtering

[lovelykil]

killua hcs for reader who is really sleepy and likes cuddling all the time (kinda like a koala lmao) like on days with no work/school they sleep for like 18 hours (yes it’s possible)

headcanons—

: ➛killua

hc; sleepy reader

note; literally me

Imagine it's a wonderful day outside, the sun has made its arrival, the grass is greener than usual, nature's lovely scent still in the air as birds soar through the blue skyline.

everyone has gotten up for the day and up to do their daily activities while YOU remain in those messy sheets. Your leg dangling off the bed, a hand on the other side, your hair all over your pillow and drool seeping out through your open mouth.

or If you aren't a messy sleeper,, your sheets hugging your fatigued body as you sleep on your side or back with your bed hair on the pillow case.

your phone has been buzzing, someone is trying to contact you but you're too inlove with slumber to respond.

but once you finally awake from your rest it's about 4 in the afternoon.. though this was usual so you didn't care but once you checked your phone...

10 missed calls from 'shithead :3' (killua)

and TONS of text messages from him aswell.

you go to finally call him back after a brief moment to collect your sleepy self.

"hey sorry I was asleep—"

"YOU IDIOT I THOUGHT YOU DIED"

he gets so concerned about how long you can stay asleep... like are okay?? lmao???

one time he actually came over to check if you were ALIVE, thank God he has a spare key 😭🙏🏾

kil doesn't really need to sleep so he's usually up and wake WAYY before you

he picks at your face, pokes your cheek, nose really just plays with your unconscious self till he gets a reaction but he usually doesn't since you are one heavy ass sleeper

he does get lonely ngl so he tries to fall back asleep or calls Gon over to do something

anywayy

most times you find yourself weary around him.. you don't know why just his presence makes you feel safe and calm so you usually crash on him, either laying your head on his shoulder or just laying your head on his lap with the blanket covering you on the couch.

sometimes you don't even do it on purpose it just happens so naturally you crash somewhere on his body and stay there for awhile.

like once you unconsciously crawled on his lap to rest, it only took a few seconds before you passed out. He's so tense every time too 😭

but he sighs, and holds you close anyway. he lowers the volume down on the TV so not to disturb you and watches the show with his arms around you.

"you comfortable?" He mumbles, wanting to come off annoyed but secretly he was enjoying this.

you muttered something that sounded like a 'yeah' even nodding your head slightly, his annoyed eyes focus back on the TV from there the hunter smiles delicately.

sometimes you'll wake up in your bed with him facing the other way in the middle of the night. He most likely carried your fatigued body to bed, it's the only logical explanation you could come up with at the moment.

not like it matters anyway, he was there and he was warmmm. You inch closer, hands reaching, and soon you hold him from behind softly though. Killua is obviously aware you have captured him and his face burns but he doesn't say anything.

you plant tired kisses to the back of his neck which had his heart RACIN

but soon you close your eyes yet again , whispering..

"...night kil.."

his response was delayed but he delivered it nonetheless, flustered-ly like.

"..night." He hovers his hand over yours which was on his waist and he keeps it there for the night.

here's a silly one

killua DEFINITELY at some point has drawn on your face while you have been asleep

he was bored and you were in his sight 😈

prob has drawn a penis.. maybe a cat or two..

but most importantly has a drawn a mustache.

he's such an ass but it's okay cs it's killua 🎀❤️

[cult-of-the-placeholder]

I like to imagine that Shamura always knew.

They have the gift of prophecy, after all: on the day of Narinder's birth, when Shamura first takes the infant god into their arms, they know. Their clairvoyance shows a distant future, an angry, hateful Narinder, wielding a great, cursed scythe with terrifying mastery, bellowing at Shamura to take up arms and fight him.

The vision splits, two possibilities at once: they can either do as demanded and fight their little brother--who's no more than a soft, mewling infant in the present, delicately holding onto their finger and cooing at them in wonder--and their overwhelming power of the eldest all at once will quell him. They can strike him down there with a single, decisive blow, and Narinder will collapse to the ground, crown shattering and lifeless body splayed out grotesquely. Shamura's siblings will shun them for killing Narinder, and the grief will slowly drive them insane.

Or... they can refuse to fight. If they refuse to raise their hand to their brother, Narinder will best them easily. Becoming increasingly more angry as he slashes and strikes them, shrieking at their older sibling to, "Fight me, damn you! Fight me!"

Shamura sees their own skull cleaved, sees the other bishops rush to defend them. They see Heket's throat torn out, Leshy's eyes gouged, Kallamar's ears ripped from his head. He sees them all, bloody and beaten, retreating. He sees them bandaging one another's wounds, sees them forging unholy shackles and chains that could hold their brother. His death is something they want to avoid, even after he injures them so.

Shamura knows better than anyone that a prophecy cannot be outrun or outsmarted, but they still try. What else can they do? The vision leaves them suddenly and the newborn god in their arms is whining with discomfort--tears have begun to drip off their cheeks and have speckled the poor child's face. They gently wipe them away, heart pounding with nerves, and nestle the baby close against their chest.

They try so hard. They run themselves ragged over the next several hundred thousand years, taking every preventative measure they can. They search endlessly for more visions, for some kind of hint, something they can do to change it. They vow to love Narinder completely, infinitely, and their other brothers and little sister as well. Perhaps if they loves him enough, treasures and cherishes them and gives them each the entirety of their heart, this horrible future can be evaded. Delayed. Denied.

Surely something must cause Narinder to raise his blades against them. They nip every problem in the bud, they raise the four other gods with grace and love, hands warm and kind when they need to be, just as they are firm and stern when it is necessary. The other 4 bishops grow in great power, and they love each child endlessly. Especially Narinder. The little god of death is the only one that shares their passion for the written word, and so often retreats into Shamura's vast libraries to study poetry and prose alike. Sometimes they read together, first with Narinder seated directly in their lap, then sitting together shoulder-to-shoulder when he's grown too big for that. Shamura is sure to express their affections each and every time, so that Narinder can never forget how loved he is.

Millenium pass by the hundreds, and the horrible prophecy hasn't yet come to pass, and Shamura tries valiantly to forget it. The world grows and matures and worships them, and their siblings have become fine rulers indeed. The lands prosper, endless devotion for them to dine on and grow ever stronger.

Then... Narinder asks Shamura about the prospect of change. Changing death's rules, carving out a new and uncertain future, letting the mortals walk again after having left the waking realm, and not in the means of rebirth, no: rather, instead, he spoke of granting their souls a second chance in a revived body.

It's blasphemous. It's heinous. It's unnatural.

Shamura cannot allow him to violate the laws of nature. They forbid he do such things, and that night they're plagued with the nightmarish vision again, but this time only one ending plays out: their skull is split because they refuse to fight him. It's happening so fast all around them, and they go to Narinder in the middle of the night. Hugs him desperately, grasping his shoulders with all four hands, begging him to remember that he is loved and that something like this shouldn't come between them. Begs him to reconsider, but refrains from telling him about the prophecy. Telling someone of a percieved inevitability often acted to push them directly towards it. Fate was ironic like that.

They beg Narinder not to, beg him to just stay as he is, and their little brother is so confused. And when Shamura refuses to tell him what is going on, he becomes suspicious. Bids they go away, and disappears into a dark portal to a place where Shamura can't track him.

It devolves from there. Shamura knows what's coming and is powerless to stop it--they stop sleeping, they stop eating, they withdraw entirely and throw themselves desperately into their forbidden library, searching for something, anything they can do to change their fate. A loss like this will be felt for thousands of years to come, and their heart can't bear it. Shamura spends days, weeks, months, years in a restless trance, mind stretched thin as their desperation drives them to search for a solution that does not exist. A long time for mortals to be sure, but for a god it could be the blink of an eye. While they have been deep in the recesses of ethereal knowledge, Narinder has grown considerably more bored, more angry, more isolated.

When Narinder comes to them, scythe in hand, Shamura is exhausted. It has been so long since they drank from their followers' devotion. Narinder comes to challenge them, a fight for death, he says--death will evolve, and if Shamura wants to stop it they will have to kill him. Or at the very least beat him into submission.

And Shamura can't. Their worst nightmare is playing out in real time right before their eyes, and they do nothing when Narinder's pitch black blade comes down on them. They're crying, silently, tears of grief flowing down their face because they know what's coming. If they raise their arms and fight their brother, Narinder will die.

They can't. They won't. Not to their baby brother.

[avonne-writes]

https://www.tumblr.com/avonne-writes/757613623658102784?source=share

Hello! Love the list :) so many good ones. But how about either 6 for the angst, or 13 for the (potential) fluff? Whatever you prefer!

Thank you for the prompt! 💖 This will be a HS AU drabble, set on the night of their prom. Just some simple fluff.

13. Drunken/drugged/sleepy confessions

Gale drifts on the gentle currents of sleep, giving in to the heavy weight dragging his eyelids closed. Long arms hold him warm and safe, and Bucky's chest rises and falls under his head like waves of the sea. It’s easy to imagine that Gale’s floating, rocked asleep by water - he certainly feels light enough for it.

Bucky brushes the back of his knuckles over Gale’s cheek. "What a night, huh?"

Gale hums. He knows he doesn’t have to add anything more to the conversation - Bucky can tell from the tone of his hums what they’re meant to say. They had their senior prom tonight, their last school dance. It’s hard to believe. Four years have gone by in the blink of an eye. But at the same time, Gale feels so... old. So sober, looking at the layers of naivety growing up scrubbed off him. He feels like an adult, but also not at the same time, and he doesn’t know what to do with that thought.

For now, he’ll just let himself bask in the afterwaves of the evening. In the new memories - the fun they had at the dance, then all the celebration that followed in Bucky's bed. Warmth pools in his chest and stomach when he thinks about it.

"I had the most gorgeous arm candy in the whole room." Bucky teases, running his fingers over the parts of Gale's arm that Gale's pj shirt doesn’t cover. "I wonder how our photos are gonna come out."

Here, the sound Gale makes is more of a groan, and it pulls a rumbling laugh out of Bucky. "Mom's gonna frame one for sure."

When Gale just continues dozing peacefully, he adds, "Maybe I will too." He thumbs at the inside of Gale's elbow, his voice as whimsical as it usually is when he's happy.

"You’re sleeping on the couch then." Gale mutters.

"Why?" Bucky laughs, then clicks his tongue. "We don’t even have a couch yet, and you're kicking me out of our bed."

Gale shifts to lie on his back, his head pillowed on Bucky’s arm. Under the blanket, he tangles his feet with Bucky’s. "We don’t have a bed either."

Predictably, Bucky rolls after him, draping himself over Gale with his elbows propped up on either side of Gale's head. Although Gale doesn’t open his eyes, he can’t help but smile in anticipation of the kisses that Bucky peppers all over his face a second later.

"We gotta look for a mattress together." Bucky mumbles against his cheek as Gale's hands slip under his shirt to stroke his back. "Something nice and bouncy."

Gale cracks his eyes open and raises a playful eyebrow. The shit-eating grin he expects appears on Bucky’s face without delay. Bouncy. Right.

Truth is, the idea that they're going to buy things specifically for the two of them makes his stomach flutter. They're going to have their own space, their own bedroom. Privacy. Anything they want to do, anytime they want. No one to judge them, no one they'd bother. The promise of that kind of freedom feels intoxicating already.

Bucky tucks his face into the crook of Gale's neck and sighs in contentment. "Tell me a secret."

Gale's fingertips settle in the valley of Bucky's spine. "You know all my secrets."

"Come on, everyone has secrets."

"Yeah? Tell me one then."

Silence reigns while Bucky thinks it over. "Curt and Kenny are back together again. I saw them making out in the bathroom tonight."

Gale snorts. "That���s gossip, not a secret."

Bucky shifts on top of him, fidgety. It’s obvious to Gale that his thoughts are running wild again, but Gale doesn’t acknowledge it. He's too sleepy. He could drift off like this, with his boyfriend's weight on top of him. Wouldn’t it be nice? He sighs and leans his head against Bucky's.

He waits patiently, and it pays off as usual. A moment later, Bucky opens his mouth again. "I'm so sleepy."

That's not a secret either, Gale wants to poke at Bucky, but he just yawns and hums again.

"But I keep thinking of you in that tux."

Gale bites his lip. Considers it. He almost tells Bucky that he’s on board if he doesn’t have to move too much, but Bucky continues before he could say it.

"While we were dancing tonight, I kind of imagined it was our wedding." Bucky kisses his neck. "Didn't wanna tell you, but you got it out of me."

Gale grins at the ceiling. Secrets don’t remain secrets too long when Bucky has to keep them from him. "Didn't take much, did it?"

Bucky laughs and kisses him on the lips. When he pulls back, Gale cups his face. "Guess I owe you a confession now."

Even in the dim light, he can see the corners of Bucky’s eyes crinkle. "Guess you do."

Gale combs his fingers through Bucky's curls. "What if I told you I imagined the same?"

Bucky's exhale rushes out of him in surprise, but he recovers quickly with a smirk. "Well, I imagined our wedding night too."

Gale snorts a laugh.

[turquoizxe]

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Hobart “Hobie” Brown x Spider!Fem!Reader

Author’s Note: I just want to sincerely apologize for the delay in this post, as I have been traveling out of my hometown the past few days. However, my favorite punk is still my current brain rot lmao. The second installation is already in progress, and hopefully as I have planned, it will be out by the date I posted below( after the conclusion of the first chapter). Thank you all for for love you showed on the series announcement! As I have stated in my earlier post, I haven’t written a fan fiction in over two years, dealing with school and other things in life. Please express your thoughts throughout the series and comment! I was a little nervous because I’ve never written anyone from the UK, especially with such a thick accent. Please, share your thoughts. Thank you for your understanding, and you may begin reading.

With Love,

— Turquoizxe.

Installation (1/5) : ‘Dodgy’ 

Rating ― Mature (17+)

➝ Hobie has been distancing himself quite a bit lately. You feel froggy enough to follow him and enter the world, to what is known to be the Spiderverse. He seems to enjoy your brave gesture, but he quickly realizes why you weren’t invited to join the club.

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ―fluff, heavily plot based, meeting existing ATSV Characters…

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ― ATSV SPOILERS! Minor use of language and swearing, romantic tension, minor acts of violence, Hobie’s teasing, Miguel being himself, Beef w/ Jessica Drew…

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 ― 3.6k

Dodgy;  can be a synonym for dangerous, bad or untrustworthy

As much as you kept to yourself, it was hard to imagine that you would make any friends outside of your suite mates. Your eyes were always harassing a piece of literature, involved in extracurricular activities, and keeping track of random facts no one would need in their everyday lives. Nothing short of the perfect student.

"[Name], this is the fifth time you’ve been in my office in two weeks-”

“Okay, four if you don’t count the rant about my psychology professor.”

You were always an academic achiever, graduating with honors and holding the title of salutatorian in your class. Being accepted into your dream school, earning enough scholarships to cover most of your tuition.

Yet, here you were, looking for ways to save your grades with finals around the corner. Had it been a year ago, you wouldn’t have to worry. That was until you were bit by a radioactive spider the one time you decided to skip studying and attend the most underwhelming frat party that your suite was raving about.

“You’re on the verge of losing your scholarships. $25,000 a year on the line, and you tell me all the time about how hard to your parents are working to cover the rest of your tuition.”

And you knew you couldn’t afford to stay if you didn’t work your ass off to pull through. You didn’t think being spider-woman could be so stressful. Patrols have gotten more hectic, and the late nights have been affecting your attention span in class, and even less energy to do your work. It felt so easy in the beginning, and everything was good until it wasn’t.

You felt a sting on your cheek, your tears sliding past your injury from patrol, and you felt yourself become small as you placed your face in your hands, wondering how something you’ve worked so hard for is a letter grade away from being lost.

Your counselor heaves a heavy sigh, sliding tissues across their desk to you. In just a few weeks you went from acquaintances to friends.

“Look, you’re a great kid, we didn’t have this issue your freshmen year. I know it only gets tougher from here, but you can’t fight this on your own. It’s never too late to accept help.” They started typing on their computer, ringing up your transcript and current grades for the semester. A sudden swish of wind flows through the office, following the trills of birds off in the distance your counselor scoffs at the noise and walks over to close the window. They return back to their seat, muttering intelligible, the only word you could pick up, ‘spiderwoman’.

“What about spiderwoman?”

“Oh! I just kinda thought how weird it was for another spiderman to show up when we already have a hero. Funny, I didn’t know there could be multip-”

“There’s a spider-man?”

You stammered. You felt a heat in your body, another superhero here that you weren’t even sure about.

“As much as you know about everything, I thought you would hear about the spotting of a spider-man in the city. They seem to stick close to campus.”

“Any proof?”

“No. Just words, but if there’s one spider-person, why not two?”

You could feel your blood course through your veins from the new information. It was just you, unless your old mentor, Peter, came to visit. You were knocked out of your thoughts when your name was called.

“As of now, you have a 2.0,″ your counselor stated. “Your classes seem more work oriented, and out of your five classes, you only have two finals.”

You slowly looked up from your lap.

“I’ve read the syllabus, taken notes of what to study for and what to work on. It’s just-”, you stammer, not able to give them the honest truth.

“See? You already took the steps to better yourself, don’t stress, and pace yourself, you have a month left kid.”

You let out a small chuckle. More than 20 missing assignments shouldn’t be too bad to juggle, right?

You were lying to yourself, you were going to suffer, but for a positive outcome, you didn’t mind. You got yourself together, sniffling softly as you packed your things.

“I don’t wanna kick you out, but I do have to meet with the Dean-”

“You mean your lov-”

You were cut short by a small stuffed animal flying towards you, your reflexes doing you justice before the soft material made contact with your face, slamming the door, gaining a small audience as eyes turned to you.

“Sorry everyone.”

Now, for the real fun to begin, you can at least spend some time with a special someone before your academic weapon tendencies are in full force.

The night you met him, it felt like one of those nightmares that would be impossible to wake from. To you, it was a dream.

His aura, and appearance on that stage. You were enamored with his attitude. His thick accent, strumming his guitar as his eyes bored into yours. This was one of the few times you didn’t mind that you skipped class for.

After the concert, you went to refill your water bottle before your walk back to your apartment in the damning heat. You saw him, drenched in sweat, guitar on his back, hunched over, and visibly upset that the water fountain was not doing it’s job. He looks in your direction, his expression making you anxious. Yet, you were still willing to help. You essentially escorted him to your dorm, where the water system was in a decent condition. He had pretty strong opinions about the education system and society in general, though you did appreciate his intellect.

“It’s a load of tosh for ya’ to pay so much for a piece of rubbish.” 

The ways he seemed so sure of himself more often than not made you intrigued, and he was more than happy to indulge you, being nearly distracted from the fact that Satan decided to sit his bare ass cheeks on the Earth that day. He gave you his number, and from then on, he would come see you whenever you both had the time, which was rough, considering the current mess that was your life. He was the only person you felt cared enough to step you out of your comfort zone. 

The night walks on campus, your medusa piercing that he compliments all the time.

“It accentuates your features. Peng ting you are, yeah?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, a deep chuckle erupting from his throat

“Means you’re hot.”

He gets it. He gets you. And sometimes, you thought that maybe what you were feeling would never go away when you’re with him. Your hangouts were more often casual, leading to more intimate moments, mentioning him to your family, and him teaching you how to play his guitar. You began to feel it linger, when you knew you both didn’t want to say goodnight.

The immediate thought of it also breaks you.

You’ve felt that he’s been dodging you and your attempts to reach out as of late. It’s been weeks since you’ve last seen Hobie, and this time, he initiates to meet. It’s late in the night, and he’s late. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this mad at him, or if you ever got upset with him at all. You didn’t like how he started to drift away with no explanation, and instead of anger, you were filled with worry, wondering if the time you were spending together was beginning to put a strain on him. You paced around your living room, muttering words and contemplating sending an annoyingly long paragraph of a text that would make it seem like you were dumping him.

“S’mitten for me, are you love?”

You looked up at your window, the tall brit leaning on the emergency stairs, making himself at home as you pulled away.

“In your dreams, Brown.”

He walks up to you, his lanky frame hovering over you so expectantly. You looked down at your feet, almost embarrassed of your newfound feelings, and you feel even more giddy when he stands close to you. He knew that you liked him, but teasing you was his second favorite pastime besides hanging out with you. You walked away to your kitchen, grabbing an energy drink for the both of you. Silence did not exist when you were together, and the awkwardness of it all was not helping. He bit his lip, his teeth caught in his piercing. He knew he was in trouble.

“I know you’re upset.”

“Hobs, you were supposed to be here 2 hours ago, I understand being busy but I thought you were seriously hurt or something”, you exclaimed, turning away from him. Showing up late was a recurring issue with him, and you’ve had just about enough.

“Oh don’t get cheeky now. You’ve been neglectin’ your studies. A bit daft if you ask me.”

You’re eye twitched at his use of his slang, sometimes you didn’t always need him to explain to know that what he was saying had negative connotations.

“That’s none of your concern, it’s you I’m worried about.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he smirks. There wouldn’t be a point in arguing with him about this, handing him his drink, turning on your television, starting the episode of your favorite series where you had both left off.

You sat farther away from him than usual, occasionally glancing in his direction, and unfortunately, he was staring right back at you, even more intense.

“I don’t bite, unless ya’ ask,” he teases, softly patting a seat closer to him, and you oblige. It wasn’t like you weren’t happy to see him, and he chuckles at your annoyed compliance. It was becoming an awkward staring contest, and you quickly lost track of the media playing on your screen. You open your mouth, just out of curiosity.

“So, how’s life treating you?”

“Fighting fascists, new piercings, performin’, ” he looks over to you, taking another sip of his drink, awaiting for a life update on your part. You bit your lip, anxiety getting the best of you. Despite the closer proximity, you still felt to far away from him. He sighs, using his leg to move your body to face him. You quiver, tears threatening to spill from your face once again, but you still looked up.

He looked at you, seeming nonchalant, but you still felt the worry in his aura.

“I know you want me to squash it, but it’s obvious s’omething bigger is bothering you,” he softly speaks, his thumb circling into your knee. “You act as if you’re scared of somethin’— of someone.”

Hobie scoots closer to you, using guiding your chin to make you look at him directly for the first time tonight.

“Talk t’me.”

You shake away from him, that feeling in the pit of your stomach only becoming more intense.

“I can’t tell you everything, Hobs.”

“But you can tell me anythin’, yeah?”

You look up, his face was close to you now, not realizing that you were nothing leaning into each other the more you spoke. His hand, slowly sliding to your hips, slowly stroking your stretch marks that your shirt wasn’t covering. You looked into his eyes, a small smile showing.

“There she is,” he exaggerates, giving you a soft squeeze, and you let out a giggle. The moment was yet again, cut short by that annoying ass beep from his wristwatch, that has interrupted your meaningful conversations countless times. Hobie curses from under his breath, backing away from you, the light illuminating his flawless features. And just like that, the moment has passed. His eyes look up to you, disproval in your expression, and you knew what was coming next, so you did it for him.

“Just go.”

Hobie let out a deep sigh before apologizing for what felt like the thousandth time, knowing he would do this the next time you make an attempt to make time for each other.

But this time, you were going to figure out why.

—

As soon as he had left, your senses went off. And this was the last time you were going to ignore them.

You had quickly went off into your room after he left, frantically throwing around your belongings to find your suit before Hobie got too far from you. You had followed him, all the way to an one of the abandoned buildings on campus that was currently under renovation. You stood behind a slab of concrete, peeking from the side, watching as he walked through a portal as if it were just another day.

But you saw, and now you knew. Your suspicions proved you right once again.

You flicked your wrist, webbing into the portal before it closed in on you.

And now, there you were, caught by Hobie after catching your ankle so you wouldn’t plunge to certain death after following him through his portal, seeking nothing but a dark abyss before you, seeming bottomless.

You turned towards him, a smirk plastered across his face.

“I fuckin’ knew it.”

You webbed free from his grip, finding ground. You looked at his appearance, and now you knew why he wore such familiar colors. Your suit hugged your body, adorned in your favorite colors, riddled with black accents. Hobie looked you up and down, whistling in admiration, while you took in your surroundings. HQ did not look like this at all when you first arrived.

“Place look familiar?”

You had brushed yourself off, taking in the countless people that had suits similar to yours. The unique design of the interior, and many, many, familiar faces.

“The Spiderverse.”

“Hey I call it the same thing!”

You turned in the direction of the speaker, a young boy standing in front of you. He had a black suit, red accents riddled across, two other spider men following behind you, staring at you in admiration.

“I’m Miles!”

You were still floored by all that had occurred in just a few moments. Slowly, you raised your hand, waving to the kid, smiling at him.

“Hi Miles, I’m [Name].”

“Oh, Hobie! Did we get a new recruit?”

A spider woman in a white suit walked up behind him, her pink hair flowing, and eyes that could manipulate a way to your heart.

“I’m Gwen, and this one here Is Pavitr!” Both greet themselves which such joy to see you. You almost felt as if you were back home, introducing yourself to who seemed to be Hobie’s colleagues. You expected him to be upset with you for following him, or keeping your identity as spiderwoman a secret, or vice versa. Yet, he’s seeing you in a new light, a personality that didn’t exist in your world. You would only ever smile like this if it was truly something or someone you cared about. You both would know that.

“Alright kids, follow me!”

The voice felt all too familiar, the oozing confidence in her demands making you cringe instantly, and you turn to see no other than Jessica Drew herself. You stared blankly, a sigh of irritation, your bubbly personality disappearing almost instantly.

“Jessica..”

She started at you, her face turning into a small scowl before turning back around, motioning the group of teens to follow her, but not before throwing a day pass in your direction. It was hard for them to pay attention when they were too focused on your sudden change of demeanor. Hobie walked beside you, brushing against your hand to catch your attention.

“What’s the tea with you two, ey?”

Your side eye is critical when you look towards him, signaling that you didn’t want to talk about it. He grunts before shrugging it off, still walking close to you. You watched Miles as he introduced himself to everyone, completely enamored with his surroundings. All that you could conclude from this, is that he was new. But while he was looking at everyone else, they were all looking at you. You heard the mutters and whispers amongst them as the HQ went into a deafening silence. You could feel Hobie’s gaze on you, sliding his arm around your waist for comfort.

“Piss off. Go back to what you were doin’.”

Quickly, they did what they were told, but you could still hear the voices of some conversing about you. And Hobie could hear it too.

“I didn’t think they’d let her come back.”

“Maybe they caught her sneaking in, they did say she never gave her watch back.”

He looks to your side, still silent as he watches your body tense up from their words. Maybe he wasn’t the only one acting dodgy.

You look ahead, looking at the lair that belongs to the man you used to call your boss. You felt Hobie release his grip from you to catch up with Miles, watching closely as he walked around him, fidgeting with materials and grabbing small objects. The young teen seemed stressed about something, making you just as anxious. You heard him expressing his frustrations about not having a watch, Hobie suggesting to Miles that he make his own.

You had forgotten how big this room was, and you wished it was longer by the time you got to the main event. He descended from his pad, multiple screens could be seen, one of which you could see showed your last conversation with Hobie at your apartment. Miles and Gwen walked up to him, Miles eager to introduce himself, holding a small box of food. Hobie held you back, watching you stare at the sight before you in amazement.

The moment quickly dissipated once you saw the Miguel everyone knew, his violence showing its face rather quickly, throwing an item in Miles direction. With quick reaction, your web caught onto the object, throwing it to a forgotten corner, showing yourself to him. He chuckled, his expression gleamed with frustrations and anger.

“I knew you would be here.”

“Your favorite disappointment could never miss out on a good time.”

Glaring at one another, everyone could feel the tension, so thick it was possible to cut it with a knife. Hobie watched from afar, reading for whatever should come next. That is until you felt the joyous cries of a child, turning to see a grown man in a pink robe. Instantly, you felt a wave of tears washing over you, Peter calling your name as soon as you ran into his arms.

“I missed you kid.”

Miles shared the excitement, walking up to Peter, also capturing him in an embrace. Miles looked at you in awe once more, wondering how you knew him.

“He was my mentor.”

“That’s crazy, me too!”

You heard Miguel groan, echoing throughout the room, Peter ignoring him, and telling you and Miles to do the same. You once again here the coos of a child, looking in the direction, a baby crawling across the wall. You excitedly exclaim with Miles, “You had a baby!”

Peter laughs sheepishly, yelling for his daughter, telling her to make sure she kept her day pass on, clearly in her own world.

Once again, the atmosphere changed dramatically, Miguel stepping down from his pad, Miles following, both engaging in a rather lengthy conversation about canon events. That’s when you started to shake, Gwen and Hobie looking at you with worry. Still, you held your ground, listening to Miguel explain the Spiderverse to Miles, the timelines, and the unfortunate events that occurs to just about every Spider-person. You saw the young teen grow anxious, beginning to mention his dad, and how he becomes captain in just a few days. Miles grows impatient and restless, and arguing that he shouldn’t sit here and let his father die. Miles looked to his colleagues, searching for confirmation. They all looked away, proving the timeline to be correct. Miguel turns toward you, motioning Miles to look in your direction.

“Your friend here believed the same thing.”

You felt everyone’s eyes on you, feeling as small as Miguel once made you feel. You looked at Miles, ready to hang onto every word you as you began to open your mouth to speak, but you looked away.

“Go on, tell him, [Name].”

You sucked up your sniffles, having to relive that memory constantly felt dehumanizing.

“I….I had a friend, who believed the same thing you did. She wanted to be able to save her parents, to be able to do both, and live the perfect life.”

You felt your chest tighten, yet urged yourself to continue.

“I ended up getting her killed, and destroyed her Universe.”

You heard Miles let out a gasp, you looked to Hobie, his eyes wide, and you couldn’t decipher his emotion. Miles turned back to Miguel, demanding that he be returned home. He refused, locking him in. They had all began to walk away, apologizing that it had to end like this. Well, not on your watch, but it seems that Hobie beat you to it.

A flash of light, knocking everything and everyone on their ass, you chuckled at the gesture. Miles was still in shock, quickly recovering, running off into the headquarters. Miguel runs after the kid, everyone following behind. You felt a arm wrap around your waist, a portal opening. Before pulling you both through, Hobie declaring his standing with the league.

“And for the record, I quit.”

—

You were back in the comfort of your own home, dressed in your lounge clothes, while your suit in the washer. Hobie had flew you home, as there was no reason to hide it anymore. Now, it was an uncomfortable silence, the two of you haven’t spoke since you left the headquarters. Hobie was getting ready to head out, his back turned to you, but not until you made yourself clear.

“We can’t come back from this.”

You looked up, his eyes staring back at you as he turned to you. The moon illuminated his smile, responding casually.

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

And then he was gone, and you didn’t know when he would be back.

Or if he ever would be.

Installation (2/5) : ‘Piss Off’ — Released!

‘Just For You’ Masterlist for previous/future installations

-

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[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. viii

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter |

chapter summary: Both you and Joel feel there is no use in keeping secrets anymore. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 5.4k chapter warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY. References to absent/abusive parents, alcohol and marijuana mention. A little angst but mostly fluff. As always please dm if you have questions. a/n: If you got notified I posted this at 3am accidentally, no you didn't. this isn’t even a long chapter but i fought with it so much because i was terrified it wouldn’t live up to the hype. Like….everything has been building to this one and I don’t know if it feels right. I love crippling self-doubt. I love being insane! I’m fine. 

-July 9, 2003-

Joel is falling in love. 

He doesn’t know it yet. That’s how love works, right? No one can really pinpoint the exact moment it happens. Most of the time, it’s recognized in hindsight.

What he does know is that you love Sarah. Do you love him? He’s not sure yet. Right now, it almost doesn’t matter. Of course you would love her first. He imagines – he knows – how easy it is to love her. So, he can’t fault you for that. And it’s all that matters. Every other relationship he’s been in has lacked this one critical element. Including his relationship with her own mother. 

Now, he feels there is no use in keeping secrets. He can trust you. He knows Sarah likes you. It all makes sense. 

But he is worried about you. It’s been a few days since the fair, and he hasn’t heard from you. He had seen something from you that so rarely surfaced. Vulnerability. As much as you had tried to hide it behind clenched fists and a sharp tongue – you had been scared. Not just in the moment, but after. Scared to show any weakness, scared to let him in. Maybe you were ashamed, and maybe he’d pushed you too far afterwards. But all he wants is for you to realize that with him, you are safe. 

Joel gets out of his truck and slams the door shut, looking over at your house out of habit. The blinds are shut, your garage closed. It’s six o’clock. He’s home earlier than usual, but he’s used to a different view. Front door hanging open, with warm light beckoning through sheer curtains. He has stood in this very spot and watched Sarah from a distance as she comes back home, the sounds of your combined laughter reaching his ears even from across the street. Where have you been? He wonders. 

Once he’s inside, he doesn’t bother getting too comfortable. Sarah’s at a pool party, and he has to pick her up within the hour. It’s not enough time for him to bother with showering, but he does make himself a peanut butter sandwich for dinner. All that’s left of the loaf is the two end pieces. He needs to go to the store. 

He sits at the kitchen table to eat. Sarah’s only gone for the day, but he wonders why his house feels so big and empty without her. For two weeks she had been away at camp, and he hadn’t felt this lonely. It takes him a moment to realize it’s because he had spent all his time with you. 

The sound of the phone ringing interrupts his sulking, and he answers without checking the caller ID. It’s probably a vendor. Another delayed shipment. “This is Joel.” 

“Hey, Joel.” It’s you. 

“Hey,” Even though you aren’t physically here, he straightens up, wipes his mouth with the paper towel he’s using as a napkin. “How’s it going?”

“I’m good,” you say, your voice sounds….light. Normal. He hears phones ringing in the background. “How are you? How is Sarah doing?”

“I’m good,” he says. “And she’s good.”

“I’m glad,” you begin. “Listen, I uh, I feel like I’ve been MIA the last few days. Work’s been crazy, I’m actually still at the office right now. But I wanted to call you….I’ve uh….I’ve missed hearing your voice.”

Joel feels his shoulders sag in relief. “I missed hearin’ yours.”

You hum softly. “Are you around this weekend? I’d like to see you.”

“I’d like that.” Joel sighs. “I’ll be around. I could make you dinner.”

You don’t answer right away. Joel strains to hear, but all he can make out is keyboards clacking faintly in the distance. “Can….can you make dinner? Like physically. Is that possible?”

Joel looks down at his half-eaten, all-crust peanut butter sandwich. It’s not a very good indicator of his abilities. Maybe you’re right. Nevertheless. “I’ll have you know, I make a mean macaroni and cheese.”

“If it’s from a box, that doesn’t count.”

‘It should, though,” Joel defends. “That’s basically all Sarah and I eat.” 

“Oh, god,” you laugh. “Have you had your blood tested for nutritional deficiencies? Because I’m concerned for your health.” 

“Yeah, actually, I have and I got an A…plus.”

The line is silent again for much longer. Joel thinks the call might’ve dropped, so he says your name. “Hello?”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Of course I’m joking.”

You giggle. “Okay, just making sure,”  you sigh, then add. “We have the same blood type.”

“Guess that’s serendipity,” Joel says. 

“Well, I think you’ve made me go soft….“ you groan. “But I’ll eat your boxed macaroni and cheese if it makes you happy.” 

“It will.” 

Joel leaves the conversation feeling reassured. Truthfully, he’s not sure what he’d call you, if someone asked. He’s never asked you to be his girlfriend, but he knew you were only seeing each other. There had been that other guy, whose name he didn’t care to remember, but Joel had asked you about him in a moment of weakness while Sarah was away at camp, and you hadn’t hesitated. There’s no one else. It’s just you. A confession whispered while you were laid bare and pliant beneath him, his hand resting lightly, but still possessively – over your throat. 

This dinner is reasonably the next step. It’ll be a good opportunity to let you know he’s going to tell Sarah. To make sure you are on the same page. And then he can sit down with her and have the talk alone. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey Dad, can I ask you something?” 

It’s later in the evening, and Joel is mindlessly flipping through channels on the TV when Sarah enters the living room from the kitchen. She stands with her hands clasped, shifting from foot to foot. Noticing her body language, he leans forward and hits the mute button. 

“Yeah, what’s going on, babygirl?” 

“Before camp….you went on a couple dates. Are you still seein’…whoever that was?”

Joel hesitates a minute. This is a conversation they’ve only ever had a handful of times before, but rarely initiated by Sarah. “Uh, yeah…sweetheart but uh….it’s been a little. We’re both busy people.” 

Sarah studies him for a moment, and it’s hard to recognize the look in her eyes. “What makes you ask?” Joel prompts. 

“Just curious,” she shrugs. “You uhm…you seem…happier. More relaxed.”

Joel’s face feels warm. “Yeah, she’s….she’s pretty great.” 

“Will I get to meet her?”

You already have, he wants to say. And he should just tell her now. Get it out of the way. But if he tells her the truth without letting you know first, it feels like it will make the already messy situation even messier. “Eventually,” he nods. 

“Cool,” His daughter smiles at him, but he sees the way her shoulders remain slumped. Sarah crosses the room to sit next to him on the couch. “Can we watch a movie?” she changes the subject.

“Sure,” Joel gets up to look at their collection of DVDs, thumbing over them and listing off some of her favorites. “Let’s see….Scooby Doo, Bend It Like Beckham, Clueless….” When she doesn’t answer right away, Joel looks over his shoulder to see her curled up,  head turned to stare out the front window. “Sarah? Any of those sound good?”

“What?” she turns back towards him. “Bend It Like Beckham? I haven’t watched that in awhile.”

Joel pulls the movie from the shelf and puts it in the DVD player. When he sits back on the couch she lies down and puts her head on his knee. He knows she’ll be out within minutes.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-July 11,2003-

Standing on the front porch of Joel’s house, you realize you feel more calm in this moment than you have all week – and you haven’t even seen him yet. The prospect of spending time with him alone is enough. 

You don’t even need to fake your smile as the door wins open – it happens on its own accord. But as soon as it comes, it falls away when you are met with – 

“Sarah?” 

It’s her name, but it sort of sounds like it’s a question. You force the smile back onto your face because looking shocked is the opposite of what you want to do. Where is Joel? Are you early? Incredibly, incredibly late? Your heart rate picks up, as you rack your brain for something to say. Some kind of excuse, some kind of explanation. 

“Uhm…I uh, I was wondering if I could uh, borrow a….drill? I’m uh….assuming your dad has one, right? I have this picture….that I’m hanging.”

“Oh yeah,” Sarah nods, lets you step inside, but she only backs up a few steps, and stays facing you. Her chin tilts, giving you a once-over. It’s then you remember what you look like. You’ve styled your hair, you’ve put on makeup. She crosses her arms. ”You look pretty.”

“Oh, thanks,” you nod. “So do you.”

“Are you goin’ somewhere after you hang your picture?”

You shrug, like you don’t know what she’s getting at, and then shake your head. “Maybe.”

Her eyes narrow, but her lips curve up just a little. 

“It’s you, isn’t it?” 

“I’m sorry…” you play dumb. “What?”

“My dad’s date. It’s you.”

The thing is, you’ve been so tied up in keeping the secret from Sarah, and feeling guilty about keeping the secret from her, that you haven’t really thought of what could happen when she found out. And when you did, the idea of the worst case scenario – her rejection, made you feel sick to your stomach. 

Directly in front of her, she looks at you dead-on. Everyone has a different definition of what lying is. Deflecting, dismissing, are fine in your eyes but….denying? Especially when the question being asked is so….direct? That would be lying. And sure, you’re not even above that sometimes. But you can't lie to Sarah, regardless of the consequences.

You take a deep breath. “Look, Sarah I wanted to tell you, but-”

“Oh my god, I knew it!” she punches your arm at first. You reach to quell the ache it leaves behind, but before you can, she throws her arms around your neck and squeezes you tightly. 

“Thank God it’s you.” Slowly, your arms raise to return the hug, but you’re really at a loss of words. Her voice is muffled against the shoulder of your shirt. “I’ve never wanted to be right about something so bad in my life.”

“Sarah,” you hear Joel’s voice call from upstairs, and she pulls back. “Is that you I hear downstairs? I thought Emily was supposed to pick you up a half hour ago!” 

Sarah keeps her eyes on you, grinning widely as she answers. “She’s running late.”

“Well, babygirl, I’ve gotta-” Joel’s footsteps pause on the landing, and you look up to see him staring at you both. He looks like a deer trapped in headlights, and you see his expression shift through every possible emotion – concerned, fearful, regretful, apologetic, but by the time Sarah turns to face him with her arms crossed, it’s gone blank.

“Is there something you want to tell me, Dad?”

Joel looks at you, as if you can somehow get him out of this situation. All you have to do is raise your eyebrows. She knows. He rolls his shoulders back and looks up at the ceiling, taking a deep inhale, then drops his gaze to his daughter. “I was gonna tell you soon. Probably later tonight I had to talk to-” he gestures to you, then pinches his temples. 

“I knew it,” she repeats herself.

Joel makes a skeptical face, easing the rest of the way down the stairs. “No you didn’t.” 

“No, I did,” she smiles. “I always thought you had a crush or somethin’, and then I saw the way you were looking at her last weekend, and you were so weird yesterday when I brought up the fact that you were going on dates, and you’ve kept the house way too clean, and-”

“Okay, fine!” Joel cuts her off, and you see his cheeks flush slightly, like he’s embarrassed. “You knew it. I believe you.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Sarah elbows you.

“I asked her not to,” Joel defends. “We were figuring things out.” 

She backs down, then looks between you. 

“Everything good?” Joel asks. “Everyone happy?” 

Sarah nods, then grins. “Good.” Joel wraps an arm across each of your shoulders and pulls you against his chest. Then he plants a kiss on the top of both of your heads. 

Outside, a car horn honks. 

“That’s Emily,” Sarah mumbles, her cheek smushed up against Joel’s bicep, and he loosens his grip, but still keeps you both close. “Will you be here when I get home?” Sarah asks, looking at you.

“I can be.” 

“When’s curfew?” Joel asks. A test. 

“Ten-thirty,” Sarah says confidently. 

“Good,” he says, patting her shoulder. “Have fun. We’ll see you when you get home.”

Sarah grins and gives you one more quick hug before bounding outside. Both you and Joel watch her get into the car through his screen door. You turn to him first after the car backs out of the driveway. 

“Well,” you cluck your tongue. “So much for sneaking around.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Joel covers his face with his hands and groans. “You don’t understand. I had this whole plan tonight to cook you dinner and talk to you about this. I wanted to see if it was okay before I told her but I had no idea her friend was running late and I should’ve-”

“Joel,” you interrupt.

“I just wanted to do one thing right.”

“Joel,” you repeat his name, reach out and put a hand on his arm. “Best laid plans. It’s alright. Really.” 

“You’re not mad?”

You shake your head vehemently, give him a gentle smile. He pulls you back against him and kisses you tenderly, hands on either side of your face. “I’m just glad she’s not mad,” you confess. “I thought she’d hate me once she found out.”

“I knew she wouldn’t.” He chuckles. “She loves you.”

If he had known she wouldn’t be upset, you wonder why Joel would want you to keep it a secret? What revelation did he have that suddenly made him okay with it? Maybe he’s trying to tell you something right now. Without saying it. So do I. 

Before the kiss gets too heated, Joel pulls away. You’re led into the kitchen, where he pours you both glasses of chilled white wine, and you sit at the counter, chatting with him about his day while he cooks you chicken alfredo.

“I felt like if I was going to talk to you about this….kind of serious thing, we shouldn’t be eating a meal made primarily for college students and five-year-olds,” he explains. There’s a piece of hair falling onto his forehead. You gravitate closer to him, sipping your wine and leaning back against the counter to study him carefully.  

“Dang,” you reach out, pushing his hair back away from his face. “This whole week I kept seeing traffic cones and craving boxed macaroni.”

“Well you might still get to eat it,” he laughs. “Because I have no idea how this is gonna turn out.”

“I’m sure it will be alright,” you assure him. “Thanks for taking such good care of me.” He gives you a sweet smile in response, and you relish in it – press your cheek against his shoulder, and hold it there for a moment, looking down with him at the stovetop.

It’s a milestone, of sorts. Sarah knows about you. And from everything Joel’s told you, not everyone he is with gets that privilege. Even if he’s asked you for nothing else, this means something. To him, and now to you in turn. There’s a version of yourself from not long ago that might’ve run for the hills at the implication. But you’re tired of running. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-August 14th, 2003-

You’re roused awake by the feeling of the mattress dipping beneath the weight of another body next to yours.  Being the light sleeper that you are, you get bits and pieces of the unfamiliar room you are in through bleary eyes. And it’s cold. Somewhere during the night, you'd kicked off the fluffy duvet and comforter, and now you’re completely nude underneath nothing but a sheet. 

“You still sleepin’?” It’s Joel. Even though sleep still obscures most of your base-level functioning, you recognize his low, easy drawl. He tugs on the thin layer of fabric that covers your body. Your fingers curl, fisting into the gauzy fabric tucked under your chin. 

“Please don’t,” you croak out, shivering. “I’m freezing.” 

Joel tuts lightly, and slides under the covers to join you. His skin is slightly damp against your own – he’s just gotten back from his morning run. With anyone else, you’d be disgusted, maybe even snap at them for soiling the sheets. But somehow, he smells fucking incredible like this – all salt and sweat, and so warm. 

Pressed against him, you thaw. His hand slides over the dip in your waist, paws at your thighs. “Joel,” you whisper, but it’s not at all a protest. You’re used to this, all handsy in the morning and especially after he works out. 

“I need you,” he murmurs into your ear and you feel him, already hard and grinding against the flesh of your ass.

You hum your affirmation, and that’s all it takes. Joel shifts behind you, probably pushing his shorts down, before lifting your thigh and lining himself up with your entrance. You groan at the feeling of him stretching you open. One of his hands clasps over your mouth, the other holds your hips in place as he drives himself as deep as he can go. You moan louder. 

“Shh, shh, baby,” he murmurs, voice still raspy from lust and sleep. “Don’t want to wake anyone else up.” 

Right. You aren’t alone. Tommy and Sarah’s rooms are just across the hall. The knotty pine walls of the cabin start to shift into focus. With this in mind, you do your best to stay quiet as Joel starts up a callous pace that you think for a second might be a little too aggressive, until the sound of his needy panting in your ear makes you reconsider. You can’t help yourself. 

That’s all this, being with Joel – is. You keep giving more and more of yourself over to him. You can’t stop, you don’t want to. It feels good, the surrender. However slow it may be.

Your body thrums to life before you know it, and then you’re overly sensitive and desperate in-kind, clenching around his length as he ruts into you. 

Joel’s hot mouth trails sloppy, wet kisses along your neck. “Always feels so good, pretty girl. Like you were fuckin’ made for me,” his words buzz against the shell of your ear, fall down where they break at the base of your spine, a hundred shards shattering upon impact. Whatever expletive that leaves you comes out, muffled by his palm. “Hard to stay quiet, huh?” 

It’s already too much. You’ve gotten sinfully wet within minutes. And when you grind back against him involuntarily, that pulls him farther forward. “Touch yourself, darlin’,” he commands. “Not gonna last long.” 

You can feel him throbbing, right on the brink, so you reach down to circle your clit with two fingers as Joel movements grow sloppy, and uncoordinated. The feeling of him spilling deep inside you is the catalyst for your own orgasm, and Joel manages a few more thrusts to work you through it, his grip tightening over your mouth to hold back the noise.

He doesn’t pull back right away, just strokes your hair and peppers kisses on your shoulders. You listen to his sweet nothings, and savor the thump of his heart against your back. 

“I should hire you as my personal alarm clock from now on,” you say, voice hoarse, once you catch your breath. You feel the evidence of what he’d done to you, and press your thighs together at the sensation.

Joel chuckles. “You wouldn’t have to pay me. I’d volunteer.”

“So selfless,” you quip, and he drags his nose up the middle of your back, dazed and content. “Okay,” you wriggle from his grip to sit up. If you don’t leave the bed now, you don’t think you will ever find the strength again. “I need to shower.” 

“Can I join you?”

“Sure,” you say. “But you’re not allowed to distract me.”

“We’ll see about that…” Joel tickles your waist. 

“Joel,” you say, sternly. “I have shit I want to do.”

“Oh, really?” he seems unconvinced. “You’re finding tasks on vacation?”

“I wouldn’t call them tasks,” you explain. “But Sarah and I were gonna walk to that coffee shop in town.” 

“Coffee shop? Without me?” 

“I mean….last night you and Tommy promised to make breakfast,” you ruffle his hair affectionately, and he wrinkles his nose. “So I think we’re expecting it. But I’ll bring something home for you.” 

Joel grins, and pulls you in for another kiss before letting you retreat first to the bathroom, before following after you dutifully. 

He had driven the four of you a couple hours to some wildlife reserve you’d never heard of for a long weekend before Sarah went back to school at the end of the month. It’s your first trip together, and while you were excited to get out of the suburbs, it was a far cry from the vacations you had been used to growing up, and renting out a cabin had been a compromise, instead of straight-up camping. 

Still, you make the most of it. You and Sarah walk to the lake, and lay out on towels reading books and laughing until the sun dries out your skin. Tommy tries to teach you both to fish, but you’re too grossed out to touch the nightcrawlers he buys so you can’t even bait the hook. Joel takes you hiking and Sarah nearly breaks her foot trying to climb a tree. In her defense, you tell Joel it looked very climbable. 

Sarah demands to do a photoshoot when she finds the digital camera you brought, much to Joel’s dismay. He grumbles under his breath and rolls his eyes when you pick pink wildflowers and tuck them in his curls, then behind his ears, before you and Sarah do the same for each other. You snap portraits of each other – you and Sarah, then Sarah and Joel, then Tommy and Joel, and so on. 

When you get the pictures developed, and you see the photo on the top of the stack, you nearly return them, thinking there’d been a mistake. It’s one Sarah took of you and Joel. He’s kissing your cheek, arms encircling you, and you’re laughing so hard that your eyes are closed. The woman in the photo doesn’t look like you….she’s so happy.

Each night of the trip, you take turns on dinner duty – usually something that involves a grill. And the dad in Joel cannot help but hover around whoever is the chef, giving them pointers until he ends up taking over the meal entirely. The weed you brought mysteriously disappears one night after Tommy’s leaves to ‘go for a walk’, and you make s’mores over a fire. It’s so normal.

On your last night, you lay on the hammock next to Sarah, the mosquitoes unable to penetrate the protective circle of citronella candles and incense you’ve surrounded yourselves with. The cool breeze rustling through the trees is a reprieve from the unforgiving heat and humidity of the day. You’re making progress on The Da Vinci Code, even though Sarah is reading The Hobbit and periodically interrupting you to ask questions. 

The back door slams and you hear shoes approach, crunching over gravel. “Hey girls,” Joel stands over you with his hands on his hips. He gives the hammock a push that sends it into motion, swinging back and forth gently. You laugh, but Sarah wrinkles her nose, clearly disturbed by the movement. “Room for one more?” 

“No,” Sarah lifts her arm to try to keep him from climbing beside her. “Get a chair.”

Joel huffs, but doesn’t argue, pulling up the folding chair to sit next to you both. “It’s a nice night, ain’t it?” 

“Yeah,” you answer. Sarah puts the book closer to her face, gives a mumbled yes.

“Sarah, honey, have you enjoyed yourself?” 

“Did you not bring something to read out here?”

“No, I thought I’d come talk with you both because I was gettin’ bored all alone.” 

“Maybe you should go get your guitar,” Sarah suggests. 

“Where’d Tommy go?” you ask. 

“Met some girl who’s stayin’ two doors down,” Joel raises an eyebrow at you. 

You shake your head. “Incredible.” 

The night is loud, but ambient, crickets chirping. “It’s definitely starting to get dark earlier,” Joel observes. 

Sarah lets out a long sigh at that, shuts her book with a satisfying snap, and shifts to sit up. “I’m going inside.” 

“You don’t have to go, babygirl,” Joel reaches to steady the hammock and keep you from flipping out of it. 

“I’m tired,” she says. “And I gotta pack my stuff up.” 

“Do you want me to-”

“No, please, Dad, just…let me be.” 

Joel frowns, and he stares at her dejectedly as the door slams shut. He turns back to you. “Did I do something wrong?” 

You smirk, shake your head. “End of summer blues.” 

“Should I talk to her?”

“Maybe give her some time….check in later.” 

Joel sighs, stands from his chair, and takes Sarah’s place next to you on the hammock with incredible grace, considering the task. Smooth motherfucker, you think to yourself. 

“Tell me how you know more about parenting than I do?” he asks, rolling onto his side and propping himself on an elbow. “Sometimes I feel like you’re better at it.” 

To be fair, Sarah had been hinting at it all week, but you didn’t want to pry until she said it outright. Plus, it’s a familiar feeling. “I guess it helps that I was once a teenage girl. I used to get angsty before school started up every year.”

“How’d your dad handle it?” You realize that Joel is asking the question completely innocently, without thinking, but the second it leaves his mouth he realizes his mistake, and you can see the apology written in his features. 

It’s nothing, you shake your head. “Do you…” you trail off. “Do you want to know?”

Joel nods carefully. 

“Well,” you bite your lower lip. “He didn’t really handle it at all. I didn’t like being sent away. The one time I came to him in tears over it, he told me to quit being a crybaby and sent me to my room. So after that, I just never bothered him about it again.” 

Almost twenty years ago, but it’s like you’re there, in the dim light of your bedroom, biting on a corner of a frilly pink throw pillow and not bothering to wipe the tears that track down your cheeks and stain the embroidery. It wasn’t the first time. And it wouldn’t be the last.

“How old were you?” Joel asks. 

“I don’t know,” You pick at the corner of your book, avoiding his eyes. “Younger than Sarah. Nine or ten?” 

You wait for Joel’s expression to shift to one of pity. But it never does. There’s only something steely in his gaze. He winds an arm around your waist and brings you up against him. “I’m sorry.”  

“It’s okay,” you assure him, because it wouldn’t be opening up if you didn’t feel the need to immediately downplay everything you had said. “My brother ended up sneaking me out and taking me to get a milkshake.” 

“I’m glad he was there.”

“Me too,” you nod. “He was- is a good brother. Things are just….complicated now that we’re older.”

“I know that feeling,” Joel strokes your hair, runs his hand up the side of your waist absentmindedly. You find his quiet empathy – the space he holds for you – incredibly rewarding. That wasn’t so bad.

After the moment passes, he tugs on the collar of the flannel you’re wearing over a tank top. “This my shirt?” he asks. You nod, give a cautious smile. 

“Hope it’s okay,” you said. “I was cold. I didn’t think it’d get this cold at night.”

“It’s more than okay,” he mumbles, nosing past your hair and pressing his lips to your throat. You shiver. “You always look so pretty. But being out in nature really suits you.”

“Okay,” you say sarcastically, and don’t believe him for a second.

“You should really let me take you camping sometime. Proper camping,” he continues. 

“Joel, we talked about this,” you recall the conversations leading up to this trip. “If I am not within walking distance of an actual shower, I will die.” 

Joel laughs. “I’m not being dramatic. It would kill me.” 

“Don’t say that,” Joel scolds. “You’d be fine.”

“I’m not built like you. I’m a City Girl.”

“You’re not at all curious about the idea of having sex in a tent?”

“We have sex in a bed just fine. Why do we need to do it in a tent? Wouldn’t that just make it worse?”

“It’s a change of scenery.” 

“Okay so if that’s all it is, just hang a different picture in your room or something.”

Joel laughs again. 

“Look, I’m open minded about a lot of things, but if you took me camping, properly, out in the wilderness, you would hate me by the end of it.” 

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Joel answers. “I bet I’d still think I’m a pretty lucky guy.” 

You roll your eyes, pick your book back up and scan the pages, none of the words hitting. “You have too much faith in me. Truly.” 

“I’m serious,” he mumbles, hand under your chin. “Look at me, just let me sweet talk you for a second, alright?” 

Sighing, you let the book fall on your chest and clasp your fingers over it, turning to face him. “You’re so good. To me, to Sarah. Even to Tommy, although that’s not very important,” he smirks at his joke, almost like his brother could hear him. Quickly, he focuses back on you. “You fit in so well, and you don’t even have to try. I’m just so….happy.” 

Joel isn’t a poet or anything, but it’s one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever said to you. And it means more since it’s from him. You give him a gentle smile. “Me too.” 

But before anything can settle, you’re made aware of the deep ache within you. All you’ve ever wanted, all your life, is to not feel like a burden. To be cared for, paid attention to, without having to do anything to earn it. Do you really deserve this? Him? Sarah? How long will it be before it gets taken away, like it always has.

You feel like a toddler. A shiny toy is being dangled in front of you, but the second you reach for it, acknowledge how much you want it, it’s pulled away. You’re so uncoordinated, you fall on your face.

“Are you with me?” Joel asks, and you realize you’ve been staring absentmindedly at your feet. You nod. “What’s on your mind?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I do.” 

You scrape your top teeth together for a second. “I’m really happy. I am, Joel,” you promise him. “But for me, good things don’t usually last.”

Joel’s hand circles yours, brings it so it’s pressed against his heart. “This will.”

You chose to believe him.

------

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----

[igglemouse]

Through blood, pain, and tears, here she is. Ten fingers and toes and two eyes and ears and completely adorable! Florencia Lola Alcocer Varela is her full name but to keep it short and simple she is Florencia Alcocer and I should add that she is just a little fussy right now but try to imagine being in her position? Everyone knows how hard labor is, how difficult it is to bring life into the world, but no one talks about how hard it is to be born! I guess because no one truly remembers it.

Oh, that's right, you're probably wondering what Pascal was up to? Well, he did miss most of her birth but he did come late into the night after she was born and he was excited to meet her! He, a little surprisingly I should add, started his morning with her too. Talking to her and playing with her and getting her to wriggle and coo. I really hope this is the start of a beautiful relationship and it is nice to see that he delayed his usual morning routine to spend time with her.

I'm glad he spent some time with her but it did not take long before he was on his treadmill again, as you might have expected already. Morning workouts are a ritual for him and I've learned nothing stops it. NOTHING. We could be in the middle of a nuclear and I firmly believe he'd still find some way to push his legs and lungs and keep active. I think it is a mental thing for him. Like, meditative even? Either way, some mornings I do pop in to bother him.

"She is amazing, isn't she?" I ask him as he pounds away on the machine, the pounding of his feet is my only response until he can gather his breath for an actual reply.

"Y-yea! Yeah! She is!" He pants out, not looking over at me, keeping focused.

"What do you think of the name? I know we didn't agree on one but-"

"I l-love it!" he says, keeping it short and sweet. This would have bothered me normally but he is currently running. I think he keeps the setting on ten or however high it can go.

"You know, if she takes one thing from you I hope it's how hard you work," and I mean that sincerely. The guy is a machine.

He sort of chortles at that, picking up the pace even more. "And she will only make me work harder..."

I like the sound of that but is that possible with him?

This whole mama thing is new to me so be patient! I'm sure I'll make mistakes but I feel like I'm on the right track. Her diet will be milk milk and more milk of course and I've decided to handle that naturally, for now at least. It feels like one of the first big decisions I have to make and its about her health. A well fed baby is one that will grow after all!

But it is also important that I get a lot of time to relax myself. If Flora is napping, as she is right now, then it is the perfect time for me to nap as well. I certainly need it. I'm tired, hurting, and yet for some reason happy? I feel like I've been tortured and yet I'm smiling about it. Flora being born has a lot to do with that but I could not have expected any of this when I moved here to Oasis Springs. I thought life for me would continue to be a struggle, continue to fight every day just to put a smile on my face but it's been the opposite. Yes, things with Pascal have not been perfect but chasing perfection is a fools errand.

While Flora will be my #1 priority moving forward I still don't want to be stagnant. The idea of having a simtube channel would provide me work on my own time and hopefully give me some financial independence. I don't want to be the domesticated wife getting an allowance after all.

So I move forward with that plan by calling Mr. Booker. Remember him? He runs a pretty big simtube channel and through what was at first a rocky relationship we have somehow become friends. He seems eager to share a few tips and tricks to getting started too!

But like I said, Flora is my everything now and I'll make sure her room is just perfect for her. I'm not sure how she slept through all of the vacuuming but I'll keep every speck of dust out of her room!

But mama is still going to keep to her goals too! I'll try and trim some of the baby weight I've gained off of me because it is simply healthy to do so and it gives me something else to do right now. I kind of feel like I have to with how hard Pascal works it is kind of motivating! I won't be as dedicated as he is, who can be? But, I'll do what I can with the time I have.

When I make it back home I check in on Flora and make sure she's fed, happy, and clean, and then realize I've almost forgotten to eat myself! Has that ever happened to you? Get so busy that you forget to eat or shower or something like that? Any ways, I try a new recipe for today, lemongrass chicken!

And it is amazing! Just the right amount of savory and sweet and definitely filling!

I am reminded though that I need to have a conversation with Pascal about a few things. Just life in general things. He's been working all day of course but as soon as he gets home, which will be late, but it is a conversation that needs to be had.

So when he comes home I am all over him although I can tell he looks exhausted and heads right for the bed. I can only imagine how much he pushes his body, playing a sport at a high level is no joke, but it is funny that I'm the one sweating and he's not. ANY WAYS, I do talk to him about my whole Simtube thing and now he's a lot more open to it. "I do think it's a really good idea after thinking about it some more," he says.

"Oh?" I'm surprised he thought about it at all.

"Yeah, it keeps you here with Flora, that's really all I want. I know we've been through this before but I don't want her mom being too busy for her."

I pause, stopping myself from the obvious rebuttal. He's the one too busy for, well, EVERYONE. Not me. I take a deep breath and calm myself. "Do you think I'd put work ahead of her?" I am just a little insulted here! "Pascal I-"

"Noo! I just...you know, I'm traditional. I want you to be here with her, I don't want her being raised by a nanny even if I could afford it you know?"

"Yeah..." that is reasonable but... "Maybe not a nanny I agree but maybe we can look into a maid service?"

"I actually want to talk to you about something." He tells me, which surprises me and scares me a little but the smile on his face tells me it is good news, hopefully.

"Y-yeah?"

"My contract has been extended," I have no idea what it means but it sounds like good news. "So, I'm staying here, we're staying here, in Oasis Springs, and not only that but I think we're going to need a bigger place which yes, will include a maid!"

"Oh!?!?" Now that is exciting. I can't wait to look for new houses, big houses? Huge houses?!?! "Where will we-"

"I already bought the place actually! It's not amazing but it is at least not as cramped as this place. This is more like a fancy bachelor pad soooo I thought it was time to move on from this."

"Oh..." well, I wish we would have made that decision together but... "I can't wait to see it!"

You know, all things considered. Things are going really well!

Frida Varela - Next Episode 9 'Pascal's Wager'

[mychoombatheroomba]

Bruises are the Best Teachers

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 4

Leon asks you for your help, and for some fucking reason, you say yes.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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Chapter Index

It wasn’t the first time you’d felt the heat of angry stares on your back. When dinner time came and Leon’s unit returned from their ruck, many of them zeroed in on the reason for their hours of misery. Some of them muttered curses at you, but most just looked on, well and truly pissed off. For your part, you didn’t mind the anger. You understood it, even. You’d been on the receiving end of Krauser’s little unorthodox drills, just as well as the punishments he dealt out for not doing well enough. So, as the now drained recruits filed in to take their seats at the tables, you didn’t hold their hot iron glares against them. They would learn soon enough that it was all for their own good.

You did wonder if Leon would share their animosity, but you only had to wonder for a moment. 

“Sergeant?” He sounded exhausted, and as you turned to face him, you found that he looked it, too. His hair - still absurd, as far as you were concerned - was plastered to his forehead and his shirt was darkened by sweat around the collar. There was still some redness to his face, and it made the fading bruise you’d given him stand out all the more. Krauser had run them hard, the Major’s disappointment written on him like a book. 

Even so, tired and tenacious were at war behind his eyes as he looked at you. You knew that look. You’d seen it in the mirror often enough. 

“Do you mind if I sit?” He asked, surprising you right off the bat. 

No one really asked that. Not here. You weren’t over fond of any of your squad mates, nor were they over fond of you. Still, you all shared bunkhouses and long hours of work, so you had long since stopped asking people if it was alright to sit by them at mealtimes. You just sat, ate, sometimes talked, and that was that. 

Still, you shook your head. “Spot’s open.” 

Leon nodded and climbed over the bench, settling in across from you. He didn’t even have a tray of food with him yet. “I wanted to say thanks for the-” he paused, trying to think of the right word. “Well, for the advice.” 

There was that graciousness again, almost endearing. Almost. Was this really what he came to you for? To say thank you? You couldn’t imagine that was the case. Not after he had just gotten back from a forced march for not taking you down. Still, you weren’t such a bastard to completely rebuff a little kindness.  

“Like I said, you did better this time.” 

That made him almost-smile again, something stopping him just short of it. “Better, sure. But I still got my ass handed to me.” 

“You’ll do a lot of that before you’re any good.” Especially if Krauser had anything to say about it. 

“I know,” Leon nodded. “That’s what I wanted to ask you about.” Something made a knot form along his brow, and the weathered look in his eyes didn’t match the boyish youth of his face. “I know I’m not where I’ll need to be. I want to be better, and I’ve seen you in the training yard after hours.” There was a respect in his voice that you had not heard from anyone in . . . well, in a long time. And his eyes, bright blue, softened to something more hopeful as he finally got to the real reason he’d joined you at the table. “I wanted to ask if I could have you teach me what you know? When you have time.” 

Ah. You supposed you should have guessed this was where this was going. Practice was the biggest reason you interacted with your own squad, after all. You were here for training, same as them. There was no reason to look for comfort in company that might be dead within the year. Best way to delay that death was through practice. Leon must have taken Krauser’s words to heart. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was just trying to win some brownie points with the Major. Be the goodie-goodie that you suspected he had been before all this.

The tightness of his voice, though, told you that there was more to it than that. He was asking because he wanted to be ready for what was out there. It was something you understood better than anyone, something you were reminded of every night when you closed your eyes. 

Was it just Krauser’s threats of peril that spurred Leon to be better? Or was it something else? You’d seen the way he tensed when the Major spoke of what he might face. 

Had Leon noticed your own eyes going unfocused during that speech? The way your nostrils flared and your brow furrowed? 

You'd agreed to be here to stop exactly what Krauser had been talking about. Even if you didn't want to be close with your fellow soldiers, you wanted them to be able to do their jobs well. You wanted them to live as long as they could against what was out there. Leon Kennedy, with his sad eyes and kind heart, was no exception. If anything, you couldn't help but think that if you wanted anyone to outlast the rest of you, it should be him. 

“Even if it’s just us sparring, it would help,” Leon went on. “And I understand if you don’t want to-”

You cut him off before he could continue. “We’ll start tonight. After dinner.” 

His eyes widened for just a moment, and that determined look was back. He looked like he wasn’t too surprised that you said yes, and that bothered you a bit, for whatever reason. Maybe you’d been too familiar, giving him the advice in the first place. 

“Thank you,” he said, and you just shook your head. 

“Don’t thank me yet. I’ve never taught anyone anything before.” It was less an excuse, more a fair warning. Still, Leon wasn’t about to be deterred, if his expression was any indication. 

“I think I’ll learn a lot from you, anyway.” 

Optimism. There was another thing that wasn’t common around the base. Again, you found yourself puzzling over Leon Kennedy, wondering just how a man like him ended up in a place like this. More than that, you wondered what the rest of the world would do to him. Would it change him the way it changed you? Or had it already begun that brutal work? 

Would you play a part in breaking that optimism? 

“‘Bruises are the best teachers’.” You repeated the words Krauser had so often spoken to you, knowing Leon would recognize them too. He had to know that you weren’t going to hold back. He wouldn’t learn anything that way. You certainly hadn’t. It had taken bruises and bloody noses to get you to where you were now, and it would take the same for Leon. 

He took a breath, resolving himself as he nodded. “I’m sure you’ll give me plenty of them. And who knows? Maybe I’ll even give you a few, some day.” It was said with a muted humor. 

Gracious. Optimistic. Smart mouth. Another trait to add to the list. One that almost made you laugh. Instead, you just raised a brow, deadpanning through his joke. 

“If you haven’t, I’ll have done a shit job.” 

“Guess that’s true,” Leon agreed. He let a quiet moment expand between the two of you before he nodded and stood. “I’ll meet you in the training yard, then?” 

You nodded, silently grateful that he wouldn’t be spending the whole dinner with you. You felt like an asshole for it, but you were grateful all the same. Conversation was a skill that you had not been practicing much of, lately. It let you focus on other things. With Leon, though . . . it seemed there would be a fair bit of conversing to be done. 

He proved that much when he stopped himself from walking away, just as you had a week before. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours. Your first name,” he clarified, and you almost laughed at the feeling of deja vu. What goes around did, in fact, come around. 

So, you gave him your name quickly, getting it over and done with like you were taking a shot of cheap tequila before you were allowed. There was no warm feeling to follow it, though. No giddiness or satisfaction. Just the feeling that you were getting yourself into something that maybe you shouldn’t. When Leon repeated your name back to you with a little smile, like he liked the way it sounded, that feeling only got worse. 

Like tequila indeed. 

⧫⧫⧫

The weight of the practice knife in your hand felt good. Comforting. You found a twisted bit of peace as you spun it between your fingers, switching your grip back and forth, making the steel dance to the song coming from the radio in the officer’s bunkhouse. It was some bluegrass tune, one that you paid little attention to next to the blade you tossed up in the air. You let it rotate a full three-sixty before its handle smacked back into your palm. Get to know your weapon. Strangers don’t make for strong allies. Someone told you that, once. In another life. He’d been talking about guns, but you imagined the same applied to knives, too. 

So, you liked to assess the balance. The weight. Didn’t always get the chance to, especially in training, but when you had a spare moment, you liked to get lost in these little ministrations. At first, with the knives, it felt like you were playing with fire. Now, you enjoyed getting to know the weapons you used. It felt easier - safer - than getting to know the people around you. 

Weapons didn’t die the same way people did. They were better to know, in the long run. 

Leon didn’t seem to share that opinion. “Krauser teach you all of those tricks?” he asked, watching as you tossed your knife once more, this time catching it in a reverse grip. He chose a practice knife of his own and rolled his shoulders back, no doubt feeling the pain of lugging so much gear on such a long hike earlier that day. 

“Picked them up myself,” you answered honestly, though you had seen the Major fiddling with his own knife in the same way. Seemed he liked to be comfortable with his weapons, too. 

“Before? You were in the military, right?” 

It was like he could read your thoughts - like he knew that you were thinking about another time and another place. One where you thought you knew the worst that the world had to offer, and your training was just a difficult distraction. There was no way he could have known, but his question pinched your mouth into a frown all the same. 

He realized he’d said something wrong. “I just assumed, with your rank, you were-”

“I was Army,” you nodded. “Now, get your guard up.” You weren’t interested in sharing stories. At least with your own squad, everyone understood that. Valeria might talk, but it was always a distraction. Always her trying to get an edge in some way. Alejandro just went straight for the throat, sometimes before you even had a knife in your hand. 

You got the feeling that working with Leon would be an adjustment. Still, he listened to your order, bringing his own knife up and bending a little at the knees. His stance was good - Krauser had likely drilled that knowledge into him and every other recruit on base. The Major made everything seem life or death, even the way a person stood. He was right for being so attentive, you knew. It made for soldiers that knew exactly what they were doing. He'd perfected his teaching style over years, and you had no doubt that was why he'd been chosen to instruct the STRATCOM recruits. He got results. As for you . . . well, in the brief time between dinner and this moment, you’d thought a lot about how to approach this attempt at teaching. In the end, you just realized that you had no idea what you were doing. Was it as simple as spotting errors and giving notes? Krauser didn’t make it seem that way. None of your earlier instructors did. With them, it was all about learning from experience. 

So, ultimately, you’d decided that you would give Leon experience. 

You gave Leon no time to prepare before you moved, switching the knife to your left hand. You didn’t give yourself a spare moment to feel guilty for surprising him, either. 

Three moves. That was all it took. A slash to his undefended leg, then up to his arm, then across the belly when he moved to block. You felt the knife drag along his shirt and the skin beneath it and heard him curse under his breath as he retreated away from you. He hadn’t been ready, but then no one was ever really ready to have a knife swing at them. You knew that all too well. 

“Didn’t realize we’d started,” Leon said, keeping away from you, now. In your previous fights, he’d been the only one with a weapon. Now, he seemed hyper-aware of the danger he was faced with. 

“You don’t always get a warning,” you said simply, and then you were coming after him again. It wasn’t fair, and you knew it. Leon looked overwhelmed each time you approached, like he was trying to remember what to do with every swing you took. Still, something in you pushed you onward, your heart going from thundering behind your ribs to feeling absent altogether, just as it always did when you were faced down with a blade. You knew you were being a little cruel, and you tried to stop it just as much as Leon tried to stop your blade from meeting his flesh. In the end, his best defense seemed to become falling back, keeping himself out of reach of your blade. He wasn’t really attacking, and when he did try for one, it would end up swinging just out of reach of you. He was getting frustrated, you could see it. 

“You won’t hit anything from over there,” you observed, finally collecting yourself for a moment enough to actually think of something to say. 

Leon, breathing heavily, shook his head, keeping his knife up. “I can’t hit anything anyway,” he said, and you could hear the frustration creeping in. Another few swings, and again he backed away. He was getting sluggish, the long day catching up with him. Part of you insisted that he’d had enough, that even a little practice was better than nothing. 

That part of you was held under the water by the hard lessons you’d learned. It wouldn’t matter if he was tired out there. It wouldn’t matter how much punishment you or he had already taken. 

He knew it too, you could see it in his eyes. He looked nearly ready to give up, but you watched him grip his knife tighter. 

You took a step closer, and he stood his ground. Another, and even if his nostrils flared and his eyes began to search for your next move, he remained. Then you lunged. He went to block your slash, he missed, and your knife smashed hard against his knuckles. 

“Fuck!” Leon hissed, the pain crossing his face betraying the effort it took for him to hold onto his knife. The distraction was enough for you to move, your free hand trapping his knife against his stomach while your own blade stabbed forward. You stopped the point from running too hard into his chest, just where his heart was beating beneath. 

He was about to move back but stopped short. He knew it wouldn’t matter. If it were a real fight, he would have an inch of steel in his heart and that would be that. Being so close to him, you could see the shame in his eyes. The anger, whether it was meant for you or himself you couldn’t say. 

How many times could this boy make you feel guilty for doing what you were trained to do? 

You stepped away from him, releasing his hand and lowering your own weapon. You crossed your arms, letting the steel of your blade rest flat against your side. Feeling it against your ribs grounded you, let you think. You didn’t get far into those thoughts before Leon clenching and unclenching his fist caught your eye. 

“Nothing broken?” you asked, knowing that the odds of that were low. Still, best to be sure. It would make you feel better. 

Leon shook his head, still frowning as he answered. “No. Just stings.” 

You nodded, realizing that you might be done for the night. Leon certainly looked like he was fed up with losing. You were given a few moments of silence before Leon spoke again, his voice small as he flexed his hand. 

“You make it look easy.” He was trying not to sound discouraged, but he wasn’t doing a good job of it. 

In that moment, you were reminded of a STRATCOM recruit that had arrived not so long ago. One who flinched away whenever a knife was brought up against them. One that had that fear beaten out of them. You didn’t want to have to do that to Leon. Didn’t know if it was your place to. But then, it worked for you, didn’t it? 

“It wasn’t always easy,” you admitted, looking over at him with as soft an expression as you could manage. “It still isn’t some days. That’s why we train.” 

“Can’t imagine you ever struggling with this,” Leon huffed, like he really didn’t believe you. 

“I do. We all do. But the more you practice, the easier it gets.” 

“I know.” He switched his knife to his other hand, looking back up at you like a man resigned to his fate. “So, any other notes?” 

He just kept finding ways to surprise you. 

“Still need to watch your movements. And you can attack with more than just your knife.” 

“Yes, sir,” he nodded, and you wished that you knew how to be a better teacher. Still, you knew how to fight. Maybe that would be enough.

You noticed the way his legs shook a bit as he dropped into a ready stance. You knew then that he wouldn’t let the fatigue stop him. A mad man after your own heart, then. 

You raised your own weapon. “Ready?” 

He tilted his head a bit before he responded. “I thought you didn’t give warnings.” 

That distant radio began to play something with a bit more swing, and the dance began again. 

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