#bless yalls mind and hands

[tekitothemagpie]

@bread-is-my-life @loadingbnha I had to draw something out of yalls beautiful idea, I couldn't resist. Matching skull face bfs 💀

[frobby]

Im back in the trenches defending another otokonoko from people claiming that they are a trans woman even though they are explicitly stated not to be

[theresascove]

like animals ₊ ⊹

ellie williams x f!reader

you’re ovulating and your partner—Ellie—is looking a little too good

tw: PURE FILTH, not proofread, farmer!ellie, established relationship (gf or married, I imagined married), ellie can carry reader, e can hold onto r’s hair, needy reader, multiple rounds of sex, strap described as Ellie’s dick, strap sucking (e receiving), strap (r receiving), oral (r&e receiving), fingering (e&r receiving), muscle kink, degrading, making out, grinding, spit kink, this is straight up filth yall im not fucking joking

wc ✎ 2.5k

It seeps into your system, spreading quickly when that time arises. It makes you feel hot, insatiable. The feeling erases most common sense and fills it instead with a need. Essentially you act as if you’re in heat.

The moment you knew that time had crept up on you was when you were washing a few dishes in the sink and caught Ellie talking to your neighbor. The sun, the golden rays had been placed just ever so perfectly to shape out her muscles—her tattoo. The one that was shining with your wetness just a day ago?

She was keeping a conversation going between the two of them whilst picking up and moving these bails of hay. Safe to say the water ran over your still fingers as you eyed her, checking her out.

Started with her arms before it switched over to her back. There were times when she was working in the heat of the day, so she’d remove her top shirt while cooling off. You met her on the porch, handing her a glass of tea and checking in on her. That’s when you noticed her fingers. The length, veins, the way she held onto the glass. Truth be told, you barely heard a thing she said.

Walking down the steps? Your eyes were hooked on her back as she put her shirt back on. The thoughts were getting increasingly intense with each passing minute. Just before her shirt completely slipped over her back—covering it—you noticed the light scars on her skin. The little scars you planted there after a session not too long ago. Fuck you needed her. Ellie had reached the bottom step when you finally found your voice.

“Els—?”

She hums, turning around and getting rightfully spooked at how close you covered the space between you two. You made it to the bottom of the steps, pulling on her jean loop to kiss her. She’s a bit taken aback but ultimately ends up kissing back—bringing a hand to cup your cheek. Your heart skips when you feel her hand slide down your body, holding and gripping onto your waist.

“Mm was that all you needed?”

You should say yes. Yes, you’re done, nothing else, continue working—

“No,” you grip onto her like she’ll leave, “no, Ellie I need more.”

You’re so blessed when you feel her silly grin, it makes you giddy inside. A laugh breaking from you when she holds under your thighs and carries you back inside—pushing you against the wall. Since waking up with a fuzzy mind already, all this making out did was send you into outer space. Something Ellie loves to talk about when you sit out on the porch at night, looking at the stars.

“Please,” you beg, voice whiny, “please Ellie, don’t tease.”

She had her lips on your neck, engaging in your usual foreplay. It was absolutely maddening, you wanted her fingers in you now—not whatever this was. Usually it’s nice, but now it’s frustrating you.

You grip her hand that was placed on your hip, pulling it down to your already dripping cunt.

Usually you’d never do this, but this time it’s different. You’re drunk in your own lust.

Ellie catches on quickly, pulling your garments off and hiking one thigh over her hip—spreading you out for her. She drags her fingers up your heat and chokes on a moan.

“Shit you’re soaked, like—holy shit.”

You loose your mind when she pushes a finger though. Nails dig into her shoulder and your lips are dropped open in a shaky gasp. Her fingers, her lips, her sweaty hair and skin, her arms, her thighs, the way the pants sit on her waist, her ass, her voice—everything about her was turning you on.

You came embarrassingly quick. Might’ve been a new record. The moment your eyes opened this morning you felt as if you were already on edge, rubbing your thighs together to try and get some of the edge off. But you should’ve known nothing would except her.

She laughed a little, drawing her fingers out and wiping them on her pants.

“Love you,” she mumbles, pressing a kiss to your lips and wondering back out onto the porch—leaving you panting against the wall.

Little did she know that didn’t sedate you, it only fueled the fire.

You met her in the barn later, catching her when she was staring to feed the horses. The way she had you this morning had crept up when she came into view and reminded you yet again of how attractive she was.

“Do we need more horse feed soon? Looks like we just have two barrels left.”

She looks back at you, momentarily stopping her scoop of the feed, “yeah sounds good. I can put the order in tonight.”

“I can do it, it’s no problem.”

She stood full height, looking to you with a bit of confusion in her eyes, “why’re you out here?”

To see you.

“Doing an inventory check.”

She hummed, moving along to feed your third horse. You stood there, shoulder leaned against the barn wall—eyeing her move around and do the chores you’re very similar with. She noticed, eyes changing in color after a bit when she realized the intent.

She tossed the scoop back into the barrel before her hands pulled your hips towards hers as she leaned in for a quick kiss. She had an arrogant smile, one that made you feel things. You reached a hand into her hair, pulling her back down for a kiss after a kiss after a kiss.

Next thing you knew you were being pushed back into the small tack room, shoved back against the table. She had you sat up on the table, legs wrapped around her shoulders as she ate you out. Your sounds filled the room, reaching her ears and transforming into a melody so beautiful it made Ellie’s throb. She moaned herself from your sounds and the way you tasted on her tongue.

You could almost cry, it felt amazing. It was like rain on a hot day, cooling you off from the warm that filled you. She’s holding your legs wide, arms wrapped around them so you can’t close them on her head. And fuck it’s driving you crazy, because any jolt of your hips has her muscles flexing.

“Els—“ you gasp, eyes dazed, “please.”

She had her eyes locked onto yours, her pupils blown wide just like yours. Only took another movement and you were coming on her tongue, head falling onto the wall behind you. It feels good, it always feels good—but now, each orgasm has increased tenfold. She stands to her full height, bringing a hand through her hair to brush it back and out of her face before reaching to help you. It was like it was practiced—long fingers gripping your chin, tipping it back so she could kiss you and let her spit (with the taste of you) fall onto your tongue.

You stand on wobbily legs, mind running around from the enactments just before. She had you wrap your arms around her shoulders as she sets your clothes back on straight—sharing kisses in between.

“Mm, my lips are all swollen now—“ you complain, but despite that you’re leaning back in for another kiss.

“You can tell me to stop,” she says, voice rasping near your ear.

You should. It was only noon. The last thing this farm and the both of you needed was the two of you going at it once again. The absolute last thing needed was you finding another way to meet her in the middle of a task to distract her. Nobody needed it, and yet it happened again.

You had met her near the house, seeing her talk to someone she’s introduced you to and yet you’ve forgotten the name. He’s an older man, near his 70s. Faintly you recall Joel, Ellie’s sort of father figure, introducing him to you as well. Due to the missing name, you gave him a polite smile instead and asked how his day was going. He was on his way eventually, hopping back in his truck and driving off.

“What did he need?”

She waves it off, resting her hands on her hips, “nothing, what’d you need?”

It had happened all too quick and before either of you could fully grasp it you had her spread beneath you, hot moans escaping her from the way you had her writing in pleasure. It flowed almost naturally. Just bringing her down with you when you reached the house. It was near her office, just outside the door.

Her leg was hiked up, giving you room to lick her all over and to easily move your fingers into her cunt. She was just as drenched as you were earlier, the sessions you shared only teasing her—so now it was your chance to give back. You needed her. Each time she made you come, she was up and out the door immediately after. Now, you were going to make her stay, she couldn’t wiggle herself out.

A hand was gripping your hair, pulling you into her—while the other was draped over her face. Her skin was flush, hot to the touch and tan from the sun. Some areas were tan, her farmers tan was quite obvious. She felt like she was on cloud nine in many ways. The way you looked beneath her—eyebrows furrowed and moaning against her, red lips, watching you pump your fingers into her—it drove her insane. Her hands gripped you tighter, force put into it this time.

“S-shit, come on,” she says, voice scratchy, “you can do it better, I know you can. Fucking come on.”

You tried, genuinely feeling like you weren’t doing something—but whatever you did, it broke her over the edge. She came with a loud, stretched out cry—hips pushing against your tongue and fingers.

“O-oh, fuck. Fuckfuck, so good.”

It sedated you enough. The post-orgasm would help you feel relief. Any pent up energy, the type that ran through you like molten lava at just the sight of her, would decrease. Not vanish entirely, but a good chunk of it would decrease.

The reason why it didn’t vanish entirely is because just as you were making dinner, Ellie—fresh out of the shower—had come to wrap her hands around you from behind. Kisses were placed down your neck, moving to bite as she then pressed her hips into you.

“Feel that,” she asks with a teasing grin.

You hum, moving your head so she can kiss you on your neck some more. It’s embarrassing how quickly you get turned on yet again. You’ve come two times from her and leaned down under her to make her come a total of one time as well. You should stop, but yet again she found a way onto you this time—and who were you to stop it. You never wanted the feeling to stop.

The feeling of her skin on yours is intoxicating, and the first time you felt it today. Her tits on yours, her hair brushing your forehead, her thighs brushing yours. Her smell too, brought you to feel all the more bothered. She smelled heavenly, in many ways. The way she smells right out of a shower is the best moments. You genuinely look forward to it as if hinted at the beginning of the soft section of the day.

Usually, anyways.

“Deeper, come on.”

Her fingers, the one you’ve been eyeing all day, were gripping your hair—forcing you to take her strap deeper. You had beautiful unsheathed tears in your eyes, looking like diamonds with how you were looking up at her—the lamp lights reflecting off of them.

You’ve been gagging, nails gripping into her thighs—and she hasn’t let up. Knowing you’re enjoying it if the slick dripping onto the floor wasn’t a sign enough. She lets you lead it for a second, vision dark and full of lust as she watches you bob your head on her length.

“Yeah—yeah, just like that,” she says with a tone that makes you squirm, “suck my dick.”

And you do, until it’s covered in your saliva—enough for her to slam you onto the kitchen table. Your chest is pushed against the cold wood—making your nipples stand to their full attention. She grinds her length over your underwear, slipping it and letting it get caught touching your clit. It was all purposeful, she wanted you to beg for her—act like you’re in heat.

You do, no shock. Hips grind back on hers, tears in your cheeks as you try and hint.

“Shh, no crying, tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,”you whisper, voice cracking, “please Els.”

She slides your under garnet to the side with her thumb, before pushing through. Your bottom lip drops open in a prolonged silent gasp. It stings so good, spreading you wide and open. It does something to your mind when she leans back and it pulls you back with her. Ellie groans softly from that, just from seeing how tight you are.

“Damn,” she drags her fingers around your entrance, “so fucking tight even though I’ve fucked you senseless just the other night.”

You nod, pushing back, “please Ellie, please fuck me I can’t—I need you, please!”

She finally does, settling a rough pace from the start. It shoves your thighs against the table side, and they act like a barrier. With it keeping your hips steady and set against a line—it makes her thrust all the more powerful. Your nails dig lines into the wood, tearing it up as you cry.

It’s so good. So good you can barely care to try and think about anything. The water bill, the burnt food—nothing. Nothing but her. It was so good.

From her side, you were laid out in front of her like a buffet on the table. Your ass moving with each thrust, it was hypnotic. She couldn’t keep her eyes away. Close to that was your face, half turned and shoved against the table—body sliding with each quick thrust. You practically bawled when you came, her length being grounded against that spongy spot while her fingers worked circles around your clit.

You legitimately thought you saw stars, mind dizzy as you came down from your high. Ellie was panting behind you, a dork look on her face as she stares down at the way you still grind back on her—despite having just come.

“You can tell me to sto—“

“No!”

It was going to be a long night.

taglist — @picklesarenice69

[court-jobi]

Meal Prep

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's works or the lovely art found here))

Pairing: Bakugo x reader (biker!prohero reader, afab pronouns used)

Words: 5k

Rating: M | 18+ (begone, minor extras- it's too spicy for you, Kacchan says so)

Warnings: hand-holding sexy times, first time!Bakugou/reader, food and commitment as a love language, FEELINGS, accidental quirk use, pet names, piv smut, established relationship, wrap it up, this is fantasy

Summary:

Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together.  And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.

A/N: It's spice, yall. Someone needs to rein their quirk in, and I'm not naming names (Katsuki Bakugou)

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

When Bakugou turned to his side -feeling the hand at his lower back- and went to lift you up on the counter for some kisses, something just... came over you. 

Your moves were tame at first- rubbing his chest and shoulders at the moment’s reprieve. Just giving yourself sweetly into it. Now with his hands on you, he got really hard really fast, and made some quip about you getting fresh between shared ravishments of love. 

Sure, you were biting at his lips longer than usual. Sure, you were hanging onto him in a manner far more codependent than you'd ever claim to be. By the look in his eye, he wasn't ever gonna be caught complaining, though. You’ve  been stared at and longed after across any room you're in just as wantonly, and he's the first to second your opinion when it matters. He calls you every night he's away for missions, and stays his need to sleep just to be able talk to you while your time zones are flip-flopped. 

Although, it was rather hungry of you to be so enamored by him today: where even the simplest conversation about the prices of strawberries going up made you fall slack into him. 

He asks what brought this on~ 

"Just love having you here,” you surmised, “I– like not doing these things alone." 

You’d made the economical offer to cook together and split the bills. Since your diets were fairly similar anyway, you might as well buy in bulk. He was in an indulgent headspace tonight, since he’d been laying on the pet names thick all day; this, his rare day off. Yours is tomorrow, but you were fortunate enough to get off at a decent hour to get the grocery shopping done early- with him. 

– only Bakugou enforced a strict habit of insisting on taking care of the receipt at the store, but never letting you settle up your half. The ‘slip of the mind’ he suffered from the first time was no longer an accident, but a routine.

Now, two stacks of four portioned meals each lay side by side prepped in the fridge. Some additional protein packs top your stash to keep on hand between long night drives; small and compact, they help fuel you mid-mission so you don’t have another repeat of a blood sugar drop while enroute with a squad of heavyweight heroes making a cross-city trek. Bakugou preferred to pick out treats as a surprise in those meal kits. Trivial as gift giving goes, but it offers some enrichment to your otherwise predictable menu. You haven’t seen what he’d snuck in the cart underneath that bag of string beans this time, and just saw their packed away presence in the fridge, teasing you.

But back at the sink where he’d begun to wash up, you ignored their mystery. Now, you just wanted to show him how much he was appreciated.

Yes, something switched in your brain: making meals together, sharing cleanup duties, counting these little moments as blessings and feeling like life’s weight wasn't all just on you put you in a mood. You both might not have necessarily gotten too fresh before today, but this wasn’t simply a domestic dance with lust.

Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s sharp and fast to stop you from doing something stupid, and was the loudest voice in the room when your top 20 ranking was announced across the agency conference table. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together. 

And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you.

He wanted to show you he loved you; down to the grind of meal prepping on a Sunday night. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.

Your adoring man nuzzles and talks to your neck, "Gettin' sappy again, angel."

He is down bad for you: no matter how sassy he makes the observation sound– that scratchy, rumble tone doesn’t help with your dizzying brain at all.

You offer up your neck a little, scratching along the base of his spine for full, soothing effect.

"Whass’wrong with that?" 

Bakugou simply purrs back happily.

"Cuz if you start saying shit like that, I'mma start sayin' shit. Shit I won't be able to stop spewing once I start."

"Maybe I don't want you to stop."

He senses your heart peeking through your words. Your eyes carry the message loud and clear, too, though they’re having a hard time staying open from the headrush. 

Lifting his heavy head, Bakugou studies you thoughtfully, before stepping into this soft side of yours.

"You don't want me to stop." 

Of course you don’t, so you shake your head.

"You want me to stay." 

Through a smile, you give your shy agreement. 

Even more vulnerable, Bakugou’s rare touch of a smile makes its appearance,

"You want me to stay forever? Make sure my lady's fed and happy?”

"Yes," you sink into him, happier than ever. 

"Looks like I'm staying then. Already made you dinner. Whaddya want me to do next?" 

"Hmm– kiss me?" 

Bakugou leans in to grant you your simple wish- but fully laps at your mouth instead. He means to entice, draw things out, make you want him that much more while giving himself nothing but torture at the same time. He’s used to making himself sweat; at least this was the fun simmer that didn’t burn.

The blonde moans low in his chest when you brush his cheek’s scar with your thumb. 

"Whaddya want, pretty girl,” Bakugou scoops you in close, memorizing this hot look of need you’re having right in the middle of chores, “What, y’want me to kiss you forever too?" 

Fixed on his lips -currently teased between his teeth- you give a rare curse that contrasted your sugar sweet demeanor, 

“Hell yes--" 

Kisses smash between you as sloppily as you want while he pulls you off the counter, over to the couch, and plops you on his lap, where you adjust to a squat over him and followed his persistent pull for you to sit. 

Pink lovemarks all over your neck, Bakugou’s rough attentions drive his hands to go just about anywhere he wants in a need-driven frenzy. Whether to warm you up or keep himself from perspiring too much? Who's to say.

Suddenly as he growled out his pleasure at your hips fitting up upon his lap, Bakugou fisted your  shirt in each palm– he tugs you deliciously tight as you kiss the daylights out of him.

Through his satisfied chuckles, he thought all was good until he started feeling some pops muffling in his hands. 

Bakugou knows what's coming– it's the speed of this onset that freaks him out-

His senses shout at him lightning quick, so it's a miracle that Bakugou immediately threw his hands out, shooting off hot sparks with palms out towards the coffee table- spooking you into a yelp. 

The panic settled just as soon as it came– you stared at each other after the round of pops stopped. 

Somehow, you were never afraid he’d ever sweat to the point of harming you, so you rolled with it as if he didn’t just almost blow you to bits. Must just be excited. 

Cheeky, you  thumbed to your bedroom before mimicking a Dynamight-style ‘stressball’ in your palm.

"Need your gloves?"

Bakugou rolled his eyes, "Fuck.... Fine."

As if a little coverage on his hands was going to be the end of the world. 

"I could make a condom joke instead, so be grateful!~" 

A pruned hand smacked your thigh in protest. “Har. Har.”

As you dismounted him (since you knew he was just gonna be pouty and sulk until he could touch you again), you pulled him up by his neckline so that he followed hungrily behind you and didn't cause a stink over it. In your room, you dug in his designated helmet for his gloves, which he roughly handled and donned while you rounded his strong set of shoulders and kissed him through it across the bits of skin you could reach.

"Can't believe I gotta put these fuckin’- things on- every time I get hot and fuckin' bothered-” 

"We'll figure that out, honey. Hey,” you pull him up to your sightline, “You still got me?”

Gloved but no less handsome as ever, Bakugou looks far too dazed to try his hand at driving your bike. Better he crash here, with you. He grabs you close; his answer.

“-- then there’s no complaints here. It’ll work; for now."

He moans kind of high and happy into your kisses on his mouth again. The sound ripples in you, coaxing more love out from your needy fingers and gentle kneading and soft layers that he’s mad he couldn't reciprocate anymore. He voiced this displeasure when he tugged up on your thighs and tipped you onto the bed. Setting a knee between your thighs and capturing a hand in his to pin you, Bakugou firmed up his brows, 

"Well, maybe I wanna feel you BACK, huh?"

"I get that, Katsu-honey~ we'll-- work on it. Learning curve." 

One thing the Hero World would be fast to assume about Katsuki Bakugou is that he'd take whatever he wanted from someone making eyes at him; that he'd be dominant and mean and addictive and that one might regret pushing his buttons in the bedroom, because it would be far too much. ‘Better not test him, he’d be too rough.’ But you hardly think this way, as you have him here:

Here, you look up to him, lovesick and shy, pulling him down because he feels too far away. And tempered as he is when he's in deep, Bakugou reads you and quickly responds in kind. He does kneel over and meets your lips, but freezes like steel as he tries to figure out how to be close but not crush you, despite your yanking for it.

"Katsuki~~"

"I'm not dropping ninety-five kilos a’ dead weight on you, dummy,” he chortled, “Not gonna happen."

"But I want you~~"

"Oh, you want me, huh? Needy girl..." Pets caressing down your cheek, you cup your Katsuki’s arm instead as it trails gingerly down the neck, stopping at your collar, until you force it down its path more towards your chest, and lower. 

His touch carries very little pressure. Rather, you see him just watching his own movements in a haze- "Pretty, pretty girl."

A thought crosses your mind and you feel confident; if you voice it, he’ll answer you honestly. 

"Have you never dated anyone before, ‘Dynamight’?"

Without an immediate defense, you're happy to see he’s still letting you guide his hand to slide under your shirt collar and sift along your bra line. 

Unphased, he answers a gentle -but surprising- ‘no’.

"No high school crushes?" you press, flattered.

"Tch, I went to UA. When would I have had time for that?" Bakugou slides your strap and shirt more to the side as he explores, then kisses the shoulder.

Breathy, you challenge after your happy hums. “Kirishima did..."

He only gave a bemused scoff.

“And look where that got him. Is he anywhere close to being #1?" asks the #5 ranked Pro Hero.

"No,"

Bakugou’s gloved palms have successfully reached your breasts, pulling the rest up and off with confidence now, eyeing over your skin deliciously. 

"Guess who is?"

"Y-you~"

"Damn right." Bakugou licks and teases around the space your nipple would lie under the cup, "And y’know how I did it?"

Sights locked onto him, pulling other side down to sift your underclothes up to his gloved hand's touch.

"I'm a fast learner. That's how you get to be the best. Learn fast, do it right. Gets you results at the top of the board. I'm damn good at learning something I want; 'specially when that something's you."

You can’t keep quiet now. Not at this, your forever favorite Pro Hero undressing you with eyes and hands, 

"Ugh God..."

His hands pawed at every bit of you.

"Name's Katsuki, Angel Eyes. But I'll answer to that if you want~"

Your sexy laugh turned to a moan as he sucked hard at your neck to please you, then worked on getting himself fully topless to match. Once laid back with a delightful little jiggle of everything wonderful, Bakugo's sight lay fixed on you, hands running everywhere he could reach now. 

For once, he looked a little scattered, unsure what to do next besides pet you and breathe.

You teased a leg up his, and tried prying his hard shell open again, "There's no wrong way to play, y'know~"

"Heh?"

"You look like you're working-" you rubbed your own tits, a handful each, "-trying to figure out your next move. But really, there's no bad option. It's just me."

Understanding, he nodded, but still looked conflicted.

"And I don't bite, promise~" you tried for levity, finally making him chuckle a little and bring life to his smirk.

"Y'might as well, looking at me like that."

"What, this?" you kneaded and pushed your tits together.

"Fuck, me..."

"S'what I'm saying."

Then in a sweet move, Bakugou pulls you up to cradle you by your jawline and kisses you lovingly, then holds your foreheads in place while he takes a couple practiced inhales. 

Beneath you, you see how excited he is, but also how tense his core has become. It ever so barely trembles.

A muted string of a confession leaves him, 

"I talk big shit... but... never done this part." –this part being sex, you now gather- "Sue me if I'm tryna do right by you. I- feels like my heart's literally goin’ a mile a minute here, what the hell..."

"Mine too~" you run a soothing drag of your nails up his arms before smoothing up and over to his waist, "You are doing right by me, though~ just go with what feels right. I just want you, Kats."

"Yeah?"

"I want you,” you assure him with charged-up love and desire for him, “-so bad."

That was seemingly all he needed to clear his head because he fell right down to you, crawling beside you and scooping you up into his arms where he could trail his hand all up the expanse of your back. Somewhere in there, he slipped off your pants and took the chance to feel all up and down your legs with greedy chuckles.

He'd moan what a gorgeous sight and gentle thing you were, his mouth leaving no limb untouched or unpraised. He's also high on the attention you gave him right back, especially when you tipped him onto his back and kissed along the lines of his chest. Bruises and dips mark up his otherwise perfect skin, but you're pleased to have your Katsuki enjoying this if his sighs are any indication of his arousal. 

Bakugou quirks a brow as he settles back, preparing for you to mount and have your way with him. Consent is king and he doesn't wanna force you to be in a position you don't want.

“Y’want me here?” he asks with hands supporting your waist. “Show me how it's done?”

The sight below you has you ready to pass out on the spot. He’s handsome and horny and all yours.

"Ready when you are~" 

The line between Dynamight and the man behind the title is blurred as he settles into a cocky smirk. He's proud and never one to shy away from attention- not even this, so it seems. 

Bakugou chips his chin up at you with his full support. 

"Atta girl~" 

You whimper when you grind on top of him at first: not simply at how hot the first pass is for you after so long, but how wrecked Bakugou looks as he exhales with force. It's an effort to will himself still, and you love the look of it on him. 

Pride surges in you as you sway yourself over him, checking him over and making sure he's comfortable. 

“You got me?”

His sights open again, to you in all your glory. Any edge he carries in his waking hours is gone as he's let comfort and ease take the wheel over his nervous system. 

Bakugou is pretty damn adorable this way, but you'd only ever say so when he's fully confident- not out on a limb trying something this new with you for the first time. Here, you'd build up his confidence and see how he rises to the challenge. But you’ll go slow, above all else.

Fingers find renewed life as he squeezes you,

“I got you,” he says in wonder, getting there, “I gotcha." 

But right before you lifted up to let him shove his waistline down, he stopped you from sitting with a hard hand at your tummy. In a quick switch, he's cursing nervously about needing to wrap it up. 

Before he could toss you off, you brought his face back to you with a tender hand, keeping him from getting up altogether and bolting for his bag slung somewhere in the kitchen. 

"I'm covered on that front, hon,” you stifle any laughing at his earnest pursuit, “Planned a bit ahead- got in with the nurse a few months back."

Bakugou stills, but then his confusion and concern give way to something deeper. He’s looking at you, awed. 

"You're on it-?"

"Mhm. I'm all set, baby. There's no one else, just– just you. I won't stop ya if you'd feel better with one on, just wanted you to know. " 

Fondness for the hero-turned-friend-turned-lover made you rake your fingers through that mess of blond hair you daydream of petting and bringing out a groan from him all by yourself, 

"However you want me: inside or out~"

Recognition heats him up more, "You sexy, fuckin' girl..."

Catching you back in his arms, Bakugou falls in love all over again. He’s sinking into you sideways, hiking your leg up and over his hip and just holding you close– your man is all in for this the moment he's submerged in you.

"FUUUUUuuuuuck yehehehess…”

You're overwhelmed and giddy and full, and find that it's not just you who's laughing by the time you make eye contact. It's thrilling and perfect that you're here -doing it- and you’re obsessed with how close you two are in this moment that it makes your relief palpable and light-hearted. 

After heated kisses to get him to actually start moving, you're turning every laugh into a love-filled moan: a sound that Bakugo chases with everything in him. 

Eventually the momentum is like a run, fueling him with the more he hears, and is soon tipping you back to settle on top himself-- in charge and letting you take backseat. By how you gawk up at the show of strength, it’s more than alright with you~

"Oh my God, yes sir!!" you squeal seeing him in charge.

"Yeah? Like this, pretty girl?” Bakugou is in his element, despite having just joined the party moments ago, “Y’like your ‘Backpack’ on top, makin sure you don't move a fuckin’ muscle?"

Each huff and moan he makes glues your sights to the spot- head dipping to where you are slamming together, which only makes him ramp it up even more to give you a show.

‘Yeah yeah yeah-- oh FUCK, why haven't I gotten my head out of my ass sooner, you are FUCKING incredible!--’

The sounds Bakugou’s making are passionate and raw, even more so as you're close and you tell him so through near tears. You’re about to cum, embarrassingly fast for you- but then why wouldn't you when the sight of the love of your life is rocking your world off its hinges and sending you into the best headspin?

"Do it baby, do it do it do it~" he growls the freedom deliciously to you– so you will your hand to let go of the comforter and start rubbing your clit wildly to get you over the edge, till you're bucking up and siezing through relieved sobs. 

Bakugou almost damn near chokes on his own shock at the feel, yet only slows a little bit while he holds you down, holds you through it. Once you’re reaching up for his shoulders again -your cue that you're ok and settled - he dives down to your level for some hard kisses as a reward.

Somehow he breaks from the haze of you deliriously giggling for him soon enough, gasping out  desperate lines that nearly made your heart explode– all while going right back to fighting like mad to go over the edge like you did.

“Fuck, I love you.. fuck, I love you, fuck fuck fuck–”

The closer he gets, the hand pinning yours to the bed starts to burn– which takes your attention.

From watching him fuck you to check your joined wrists is more urgent: Bakugou’s forearm is trembling and visibly sweating all down to the cuff absorbing the rest.

Pretty much sobered you right up by the incoming pain, you're surprised, but you fake it in your bliss and rush him along anyway, until he cries out and shudders into your neck as he finishes– kissing it lightly in thanks muttering all sorts of nonsense you couldn't make out once he sinks onto you- spent.

“Fun, right baby?”

Bakugou’s grunting at every little move of his body.

“S’... M’dizzy,” he rasps, “S’it always dizzy?”

Under a spell yourself, unearth some spare sass n’ sweetness from your back pocket, 

“When it's good,” you give your valid opinion, your free hand making your mark along his arm to settle him down, “when they listen to what you need, n’ when they can provide- even before any clothes come off. I find it best that way, that is…”

Bakugou’s head lolls to the side, pressing a kiss to the tender space just in front of your ear.

“That it is…”

Your palm is pulsing. Hot. But still, you let him find rest, wondering more if he was ok since he was never EVER this gushy, but as his release turned into relieved laughs, Bakugou bridged over you to blow your hair back with a playful gust of his lips and gave you some more indulgent kisses. Sweet as ever, you kissed him back and pressed into his thumb working over your still joined hands.

"You like me~" you taunted.

"huh?~~”

"Y’said you loved me..."

Katsuki giggled, "Shuddup, dummy."

This prompted your tug to free your hand again, hissing when he released and revealed your palm: tinged with an onset of a blister, splotchy with heat–

"THE FUCK??!!” Bakugou noticed the damage himself, “DAMMIT, why didn't you SAY I was cooking you alive??" 

At his apology ridden eyes, you didn't want this hiccup to stall the moment you'd just shared. Flexing each of your hands easily, you shook off any look of pain and beamed up at him instead. 

"You weren't! It just got a lil hot~" he looked at your face again, confused as to why you're not upset at his repeat offense, "BBQ, amiright?" 

Your no-longer sweetheart growls down at you, textbook Bakugou BiteTM.  "NOT. funny." 

You laughed at the nature of it all. 

"I'm ok, baby. Whew... Oh my God~"

Your relief is something fuzzy and delighted to you, but knowing how your darling Katsuki gets in his own head about how fiery his quirk can be, you give him a little wink to quell any fears. 

It works, as your assurances always do. He admires your sated bones and lays another sloppy smooch on you. A silent promise; he’ll take a look at your hand in a bit. 

In moving up your body to reach his shirt to wipe himself with, he slipped out, still hot and heavy (given that he came already) and undeniably turned on- even in this state. You cringed at the mess hitting the cooler air. Hearing your complaint, Bakugou pecked your cheek and nuzzled you back adoringly. 

"Love you, angel.”

"I love you too~" your easy reply passes your lips wistfully.

A dry ache in his chest, he made to rise and see about getting you two a little more comfortable, feeling that same wetness too and grumbled about washing his damn hands, but you stopped him with a little whine.

"Stay~~" 

Crimson eyes softening to yours, the boyish charm returns to Bakugou’s otherwise stoic demeanor. It's a sign he’s clearly plagued in an afterglow buzz.

"Cmon, lemme clean us up. I need the fan on." 

Even colder? Darn his body temp. "Nnng.." 

He gets up anyway, but promises his return with a chip to your chin, "I'll stay, gorgeous. Told you so. I'll stay as long as you want tonight." 

When he came back with the wet washcloth, he coaxed you to stand on your own and go take care of yourself, too. The top sheet is changed and re-tucked in before you got back– mismatched from what remained on the bed before, but you didn't really care. 

He’s made himself comfortable in the bed, only slipping on his boxers you can barely catch the edge of from the sheet in his lap. It’s only made you fold all over again- proof that your boyfriend knows where you keep your spare sheets in the first place. 

You slipped on a fresh pair of panties in your pit stop, but went hunting for your loose shirt again, not bothering with anything under. This got Bakugo's attention seems,

"What, you cold?"

"Little bit~"

"M’over here, then," he patted his chest, you joined him, only to have him sneak his arm under your shirt and tease your tits again, "Don't see why you need this shitty thing while I'm around, just gettin' in my way.."

Giggling and sinking into him, you couldn't fault him. He did have to stay gloved for so long earlier. You laid a kiss straight on his cheek while he had his fill of you.

"Happy girl?" he sings down to you.

Happy girl indeed. "Mhm~ Happy Murder God?"

"Heh-yeah,” Bakugou schooled his breaths to sync to you, “I could get used to this."

"We'll figure out the glove thing."

"...M'sorry for almost toasting you.”

“Eh- I can handle a little snap-crackle-pop.”

Bakugou snorts, tapping out the jingle beat for ‘rice crispies’ on your shoulder. All's forgiven on that front. 

“Really shoulda thrown those in the washer," he grimaced above you, looking over at the door where he set them back with his riding gear. 

"We'll get it later," You snuggled down in his arms, happy to take his leftover heat. “Washer’s all yours~”

"Yeah. Yours is better than mine anyway,” Bakugou leans his head fully back onto your propped up pillows. A contented sigh forces the rest of his muscles to lax. “--piece of crap rattles like it's about to blow up. Yer dishwasher’s better too.”

As he chatters away, he played with the ends of your hair absently. 

“I thought you were my dishwasher?”

Bakugou pauses his twirls, “Oi, I never said I was signing up for that! I was bein’ nice.”

“Yes, you were~” you kissed his neck to force his rising growl down. Works every time. You're back to snuggling in his arms with a contented sigh. “I’ll do them next time.”

“If you’re fast enough, slowpoke, then sure.”

You can barely make out your washer thrumming in the next room as well as the even more distant smooth jazz channel streaming from the living room, but remembered your earlier mindset and just hugged him tighter.

This, you'd certainly miss when he went home tonight. Feeling this close, this warm together, having shared something really special and intimate that you couldn't take back for the life of you. It might make things even worse when it comes to your attachment to him– you two are pushing it at the agency with minimal touches unless there's something really scary that forces his walls down in order to comfort you- or vice versa. After all, your affinity for one another is no one’s business but your own… but you typically are satisfied by his more public ties to you in all the ways that matter- mostly to others in your circle and strangers who he threatens to kick if they keep starin’ at you.

But here, Katsuki holding you is second nature. His true nature. He tells you he cares with every returned text, knowing look, and tender touch he keeps limited in shared company- with you as the sole recipient. 

You can only wish this could be your life everyday. Where you can maybe even start your own agency down the line somewhere; Japan’s first true power couple who can take names like none other. Launch yourselves higher and higher, work yourselves out of a job, and take a retirement in whatever way looks best for you–

When you get quiet in your thoughts, he even knows your 'hiding' tell. Your pillow tilts down to try and get your attention, finally demanding your eyes with a question laced with clear thinking,

"You meant stay stay,” Bakugou asked gently, “-didn't you. Not just- for the night.” 

You softened… nodding ever so much. Leaving room, in case he didn't agree.

What you wouldn't give for him to be your meal prep partner till you both retire from hero work- and then some.

Either nothing went through his mind, or one singular anthem bounced around in there, because all Bakugou did to your little melting expression was kiss you softly, turning you back into the bed, and flopping solidly on top of your chest.

"...gimme 30 minutes. Then let's go get my shit. I call the front room work table."

You're over the moon, and your jaw drops on its own. He’s so ready- barely even thought it through! Or maybe… he was always thinking of it, and was waiting on you.

With that excitement flooding you, you peppered his hair full of kisses until he groaned for you to stop– only after the first ten...

[milksnake-tea]

━━ fear not the road untaken .

Sunday hadn't spent long with the Stellaron Hunters before boarding the Express, but the memories he'd made with them were priceless. One quiet day in the Express's cabin, while reflecting on his experiences with the Hunters, you appear to visit him.

astral express!sunday x gn!stellaronhunter!reader

contains: sunday used to be a stellaron hunter, teasing, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF THIS IS THE CUTEST THING IVE WRITTEN SO FAR, SUNDAY IS DOWN BADDDD AS HE DESERVES TO BE BITES FIST I MISSED THIS SO BADDDDD, not established relationship sunday just has a massive crush on you

word count: 2.06k

a/n: happy drip marketing yall. you all get a sunday fluff piece. as a treat. also yes i am completely and totally sane. (THIS IS THE MOST SELF INDULGENT FIC IVE EVER WRITTEN I AM SO SORRY GUYS)

taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina , @tragedy-of-commons , @cakechase , @kiiyoooo

“Sunday, we’re going out to Belobog for a bit. Wanna come with?”

Heeled boots still in the midst of a step. Feather-like hair shifts and tousles as he turns his head. At the invitation, gold melts, sapphires glitter, and a gentle smile warms his lips.

March is a blessing, he thinks. She is bubbly, kind, and always manages to light up whatever room she steps into - in that regard, she is not too unlike his beloved sister. Although her ability to plan ahead leaves much room for improvement, he cannot deny that it was her presence that made his transition into a Nameless much easier than it would’ve been.

Although, truthfully, he’d expected more resistance from her - out of everyone, she seemed to be the most traumatized by the Charmony Festival Disaster, and she also had more of a distaste for Stellaron Hunters than the others. But surprisingly, she’d come around to him, and welcomed him into the Express with open arms - and a lot of food. He swears, every time she’s come back from a trip, it’s another sweet or drink shoved into his arms - not that he’s complaining, though.

“Thank you for the invitation,” he begins, then rests a hand over his chest as a reflex. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse. The last expedition has left me rather exhausted - and as you know, I don’t fare well in cold weather.”

Dan Heng nods in understanding. He’s never been a man of many words, and for that Sunday appreciates him. He rather likes straight-forward people, who aren’t afraid to say their mind - perhaps that’s why he’s grown to adore both the Express and the Hunters so much.

“Is there anything you want us to bring back?” pipes up the Trailblazer, dog-like eyes shining as they lean over March. “Like, sweets or whatever?”

Sunday bites back a chuckle. Somehow, word had gotten around that Sunday had quite the sweet tooth. He doesn’t know who started it or how they found out (he has his suspicions on March), but ever since the trio has been dragging him around to various planets and encouraging him to try the local desserts.

He wonders if he’s gotten cavities yet. He hopes not.

Maybe he should check again, at a later time.

“That Rye Bread Iceberg you brought last time was rather enjoyable. I’d like to try it again.”

March and the Trailblazer brighten at his words. “Okay, on it!”

Dan Heng only hums his acknowledgement before turning to leave the parlor car. “Let’s go,” he advises the others. “You know Seele doesn’t like to wait.”

Sunday has never personally met this Seele (the Trailblazer describes her as a crass but kind-hearted warrior), but her fury is enough to whip both March and the Trailblazer into shape. It isn’t long before the trio is waving him goodbye as they descend into the frozen planet, and he also bids them farewell.

And then it is just him, and the conductor.

A small sigh leaves him as he sits down on one of the many couches. He wasn’t lying when he said he was exhausted. Fighting - or any physical activity, for that matter - isn’t exactly his strong suit. Even during his time with the Hunters, he’d stayed behind the front lines, acting as a pseudo Kafka with his carefully crafted words and tuning abilities.

That’s one of the few things about the Hunters that he prefers over the Express - they didn’t force him to hike through deserts and jungles and mountains and Xipe knows what else. All they did was throw him off a skyscraper in the name of the script (he’s pretty sure Elio just wanted to see if he’d actually fly or not).

Sunday blinks, realizing just what had just passed through his mind. Then he sighs with a smile, leaning back into the red plush of the couches.

Only a few months since his fall, and he’s already beginning to think as weirdly as the rest of them.

“Sunday, are you alright?”

Sunday glances down to see the conductor waddling by his feet.

Pom Pom is… strange, no doubt - for whatever reason, Dan Heng fears them and has advised Sunday to not anger them at all costs. Their past is shrouded in mystery, but Sunday finds himself drawn to the conductor. Perhaps living most of his life in a fever dream like Penacony has warped his perception of what is normal and what is not.

“I’m fine, thank you.” He shifts on the couch to make room, but the conductor shakes their head.

“Are you sure? Pom Pom saw you laughing to yourself,” they fret, tapping their nubby hands together anxiously. “Have you been sleeping enough?”

Sunday crosses one leg over the other, and rests his hands over his knee. “If you’re concerned about my transition from Penacony to reality, be at ease. The Hunters have practically beat a proper sleep schedule into me.”

Pom Pom yelps in shock. “B-Beat?! They beat you?”

“Not literally,” Sunday hastes, instinctively reaching out a hand to calm the conductor. “It was more akin to… ominously threatening checkups. Although, there was this one time-”

He sees the look on Pom Pom’s face, and decides to stop it there. He fears they might break out sobbing if he continues.

“Nevertheless, rest assured that I am sleeping at an appropriate time,” he finishes reassuringly. His practiced smile pays off as the conductor gradually calms down, albeit worry about the Hunters’ methods still lingers.

“Alright, if you say so, Sunday.” They look around uneasily. “Do you want anything to drink?”

Sunday waves his hands hastily. “No, I am alright, thank you-”

“He’ll have some tea.”

Pom Pom jumps with a shriek and Sunday’s wings puff up. A familiar laugh ghosts his ear, and immediately Sunday’s face brightens.

“What- What are you doing here?!” Pom Pom quickly hides behind one of Sunday’s slender legs, hugging it like a lifeline. Sunday places a hand on their head to calm them as he turns to the hologram with a warm smile.

“At ease, conductor, they’re a friend.”

Your holographic form glitches in and out of reality. There’s a thin blue filter over your appearance, but other than that, everything is the same as he remembers.

“Hey, angel,” you coo, leaning your elbow on his shoulder as you sit besides him. Its weight is not the same as it would be in reality, but the presence is enough - a small, barely noticeable tingle that has his heart fluttering and his wings following in suit. “How’s life as Nameless? Do you miss us yet?”

Sunday laughs gently. “It has only been two weeks since I left the Hunters. I’m afraid I haven’t had the time to miss you all.”

You pout playfully, sticking out your tongue.Even though parts of you chip away and reappear, and your form isn’t stable, Sunday can’t help but be as captivated by you as he was when he was still among the Hunters’ ranks. Where the projection fails, his tinted memory fills in.

“Silver Wolf misses you, although I doubt she’d actually say it,” you say, taking a lock of his hair and twirling it around your finger. “Has she visited you yet?”

Sunday stutters a bit before weakly batting your finger away with his wing. “No, I’m afraid she hasn’t.”

“Hm.” You smile at his attempt to brush you off. Letting go of his hair, you instead opt to tug lightly at his cheek, earning a squeak from the Halovian. “That’s weird. Maybe she was too shy to speak up.”

“I-” Sunday rubs his cheek when you finally let go. Embarrassingly, his wings jump to shield his face, an unfortunate reflex he’d yet to curb. “I suppose she was…”

He hears you hum, and he lifts a wing to peek at you. His cheeks feel hot - no, that’s an understatement, the entirety of his body feels as if he’s in a fireplace.

“Give her my regards,” he finally breathes out, thanking the Aeons for his training in keeping his composure. Sure, it ultimately fails whenever he looks at you, but at least he’s able to fix himself quickly enough… or at least, he hopes that’s what it looks like.

“You didn’t answer my question though.” Propping your elbow on his shoulder again, you rest your cheek in your palm. “How’s the Nameless life treating you?”

“It’s chaotic,” Sunday admits with a fond sigh. He relaxes into the couch once more, feeling himself sink into the plush. Briefly, he’s tempted to lean his head on your shoulder, but given that you’re a holograph, he holds himself back. “But it’s fun. The Nameless have been kind, and the planets I’ve visited… It’s nice, to see the universe as someone other than a wanted criminal.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

Sunday would apologize, but considering that it’s you he’s talking to, he doesn’t feel the need to. After all, you’ve said worse to him, and him to you.

“You know what I mean,” he chuckles. “To be honest, though, the Express and the Hunters aren’t so different.”

He hears Pom Pom squawk indignantly, and again he ruffles their fur to calm them. Turning ever so slightly to your hologram, he gazes at you with adoration and fondness swelling his heart.

“To the both of you, I am forever grateful. If it weren’t for your kindness, I’d be rotting away in an alley somewhere. I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

All distaste for the Hunters fades from Pom Pom as they giggle bashfully. “Aw, Sunday… You don’t have to thank us. We were just doing what the Nameless do.”

You nod in agreement, reaching through his wing and poking his cheek again. “Conductor’s right. No need for thanks, birdie.”

“Still-” Sunday makes a sound like a startled bird as you poke his cheek harder, squishing it against the rest of his face. Underneath his coat, his primary wings strain with the urge to flutter and twitch, while his secondary wings are held back by sheer willpower. The only sign that they want to flap so badly is with the tiniest of tremors.

“None of that,” you chide him gently, tapping him lightly on the plush of his lips. “We’re just glad you’re happy - right, bunny?”

“Who’re you calling bunny?!” Pom Pom protests, steam puffing out of their head while steam threatens to escape Sunday’s face for completely different reasons.

Before you can reply, however, your form begins to glitch out, flickering in and out of reality at a higher frequency. With an annoyed click of your tongue, you stand up.

“Looks like Silver Wolf isn’t happy,” you comment, brushing off imaginary dust from your clothes. Taking one step so that you’re fully in front of Sunday, you lean in so that your projected nose barely brushes against his. “I have to get going now. You have my number, so text me if you need anything, okay? Or if you want to catch me up with your travels, you can always call me.”

Sunday’s voice feels lodged in his throat. With a subtle gulp, his Adam’s Apple bobbing ever so slightly, he manages to speak with an even voice.

“Okay,” he whispers, his voice almost a whimper. He wants to explode.

You smile fondly, and duck in to peck at the corner of his lips. The buzzing of your holograph morphs into electrifying lightning, surging into his veins, puffing up his feathers and making all of his hairs stand up and sending his already tapping heart into a frenzy. His body freezes into a statue, and all coherent thoughts melt away into a haze that is both ecstatic and shocked.

By the time you pull away, his wings are flapping erratically and his entire body is dyed in a rosey red. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, but all words die on his tongue and he is left blabbering like a fool.

You laugh again, eyes crinkling so beautifully he swears he’s ascended.

“If that’s how you react, I wonder how cute you’ll be when it’s the real deal.”

And then you’re gone, vanishing like a sweet dream in a flurry of pixels, leaving Sunday there to dazedly touch his lips, and then where you’d kissed him.

And then he smiles, giddily, and his halo practically glows as soft, love-stricken giggles begin to leave him.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[dollyhao]

pastor’s wife!reader x perv!ellie

summary: ellie moves to a new neighborhood and is instantly infatuated with her innocent, married next door neighbor.

cw: teasing, dirty thoughts, cunnilingus (r!receiving), fingering, talk of the bible and church. (yall ion know shit bout church but i hope this is satisfying i know some people were excited about this.)

word count: 1.8k

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

how fucking unlucky does ellie have to be to move next door to a damn pastor. ellie moved in 2 weeks ago when the pastor was at her door for a ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ visit. ellie has to literally stop herself from rolling her eyes at him when he mentions ellie coming to the church sometime that is until ellie sees someone out of her peripheral vision walking over to the two of them.

ellie feels like the world slows down. she sees a young woman, older than her but still young, walk over to her and the pastor holding a glass container of cupcakes. “hello, these are for you. welcome to the neighborhood!” you say with a beaming smile, handing over the cupcakes. you're wearing a ribbon as a headband and a knee length length dress with knee-high socks on. looking impossibly cute and innocent.

“hi, i’m ellie by the way.” ellie responds smiling a seemingly sweet smile, but there is nothing innocent going through her mind. “this is my wife,” the pastor said wrapping his arm around your waist. ellie literally cringes, he's like, twice your age. ellie sees you slowly pull out his hold with a strained smile.

“oh well thank you. i have to go back inside. it was nice meeting you two though.” ellie gives a tight slip smile. “of course. don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything and i mean anything.” you say grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze. you and the pastor walk off back to your house and ellie closes the door.

now she might be tripping but ellie thinks that you were hinting at something with that last statement but she probably just imagined it.

that night, ellie is playing a game on her pc when she takes a quick look out the window but does a double take when she sees you in a soft purple underwear and bra set rubbing lotion on your legs. ellie has a direct view of your tits and how they sit just perfect in that bra.

you walk away from the window digging through your drawers, still in her line of sight, to get a cute, short silky night gown. your back is towards her when you go to pull the nightgown over your head, she has the perfect view of your ass. fuck, ellie just wants to bend you over that same bed your senior citizen of a husband sleeps in and fuck the shit out of you until your begging for her to let you cum. you walk over to the window looking directly at ellie, there’s no mistaking it this time, blushing at her before pulling the curtains closed. she swears she sees a small smile.

ellie is totally dripping wet right now. and shes decided, ellie has to have you.

ellie walks over to you a couple days later while your outside gardening one morning. you look up at her, "hi ellie!" you say standing, taking your gloves off giving her your full attention. "hey i was hoping you could teach me more about the bible and.. stuff." ellie doesn't know anything about this shit or care, but if it gets her in your pants, she's all for it.

"of course ellie! i'd love to. meet me at church tomorrow?"

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

"please give donations to the church, they are going to a family in need right here in our community thank you and have a blessed day." the pastor says. everyone stands and walks around conversing. ellie is standing against a wall in the back of the church, watching you.

you shake hands and smile with gossipy older women. she waits until the church is practically empty and your picking up items left on seats putting them in the lost-n-found, to approach you. "ellie!" you say smiling at her, "when did you get here, i didnt see you through the whole sermon?" "a little while ago, i watched from the back," she says hands in her pocket and standing infront of you, "you look cute" she says looking at your lilac dress.

"thank you.." you say giving her a shy smile, walking over to the lost n found box, with her following behind. you put the random stuff in the box turning around finding ellie really close. "did you enjoy the um…sermon?" you whisper staring into her eyes. ellie hums, putting a hand on your waist.

she leans in, her lips ghosting yours. you lean forward before ellie backs up. "i dont really feel like the bible reading today. how bout next week?" she says hand rubbing up and down your waist. you nod, too nervous to talk. "...y-yea, thats fine. ill see you then." you say when you finally find your voice. ellie walks out leaving you there confused and excited.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

everyday the next week, ellie has been going over to your house for an hour to read the bible, with or without your husband there, trying to get closer to you. while you two are sitting on your couch one day, your reading a passage from the book, while ellie's staring at your face, not giving a fuck about what your reading, just thinking how pretty you would look with her dick in ya mouth.

you glance up at ellie catching her staring. you sit the book between the two of you, resting your head on the back of the couch, staring back. then you start giggling, "whats so funny." ellie says setting her copy of the book down too. "your so pretty ellie." you give her a soft smile. ellie blushes, shes not used to people calling her pretty, not even ex-girlfriends.

"thank you. your very beautiful yourself" she says not looking you in the eye. you scoot closer to her, "lets be friends ellie." you say grabbing her hands in yours, looking at her with those bambi eyes. "yea? i would like that, but if were going to be friends we can't read the bible every time we're together." ellie says chuckling.

"of course, how bout we watch a movie?" you suggest standing up, walking over to the tv. ellie knows that the movies you have are probably super PG, so she suggests you go over to her house 'because her tv is bigger'.

you get to ellie’s house and she puts on the gayest wlw movie she has. you two are snuggled on the couch under a blanket when a kiss scene comes on. the scene starts sweet but turns dirty quick. ellie looks over at you expecting to see shock but instead sees you squirming.

"you alright?" ellie asks whispering in your ear. you nod your head quickly. "im ok." you sit there for a couple more seconds, watching the scene before grabbing the remote and pausing it. you turn towards ellie, "i have a confession." you say looking down playing with your ring again. "what is it?"

you take a deep breath before mumbling, "i.. i like to watch girl on girl... videos." ellie looks at you shocked, this was gonna be easier than she thought. "i know its a sin to watch those kind of videos let alone the gay kind. but whenever i watch it, i just feel so... horny." you say, whispering that last part, glancing up at ellie. "im not sure im attracted to my husband... or men in general. and i know you like girls, i saw how you were looking at me from the window a couple weeks ago... so will you show me?"

ellie blinks, shes been trying to stop a smirk from breaking across her face the whole time you've been rambling. "show you what?" ellie knows what you mean but she wants to hear you say it. "show me what its like," you grab her hand placing it on your boob, "to be touched by a girl." she can't wait no more, she has to kiss you.

ellie leans in kissing you deeply, cradling your head slowly pushing you to lay back on the couch never disconnecting your lips. ellie slowly trails her hands from your breast to your waist while pushing her tongue in your mouth. you whimper already soaked. ellie is going too slow for you, you need more, so you lift her shirt up running your hands over her tummy hoping she'll get the message.

ellie takes off your dress straps pulling the dress down under your boobs. you have this cute white lace bra on. ellie disconnects her lips from yours looking down at you, she groans cupping your boob, "you have no idea how sexy you are." she whispers before biting and sucking on your boobs.

she sits up to look at you. your breathing heavy, with your tits covered with spit and bites and your dress askew. "cmon ellie. your taking too long." you say grabbing her hand putting it under your dress. "how impatient.." ellie grins leaning back down, kissing on your neck pulling your panties to the side, running her fingers up and down your pussy feeling just how wet you are. "have you ever been this wet before?" she asks popping her finger in her mouth.

"no, never..." your breathing gets heavier as ellie slides her finger into you curling it. your back arches gripping on the couch cushion, moaning out ellie's name. ellie lowers herself giving you little kitten licks, making you buck for more. ellie latches on to your clit sucking and licking while fucking you with her two fingers.

you chant her name gripping onto her hair. you are seeing white spots, "omg ellie, i-i feel weird.." ellie chuckles coming back up to bite at the sensitive spot under your ear, fucking you faster. "you gonna cum baby, you ever did that before?" she asks biting at your ear. you shake your head, feeling the knot in your tummy burst. you moan out, whimpering as ellie lets you ride out your orgasm.

she pulls her fingers out, popping them in her mouth again staring you in your eyes. you let out a cute mewl. ellie sits up, looking down at you. "how do you feel?" ellie says as you pant with a dazed look on your face. you look at her flustered, wrapping your arms around her shoulder, pulling her down to you, planting sweet pecks on her lips.

“Like i wanna do it again.” you smile.

@aouiaa @elliespookie @thefrenchlesbian @bratydoll @elliens4

[s-4pphics]

click! 3 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 7.4k 

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep and black :3, crack, light smut [masturbation], sexual tension… it’s starting, light angst, weed, brief mention of suicide, pretty cute tbh

one. two. four.

A/N: hi stinks :3 i’m obsessed with them….. taking my time with these two hope yall like it LOL bye

Butterflies are fluttering, birds are chirping, and the crops are watered when you wake. You slept through the entire night, and the beast inside you is satisfied. 

But the gorgeous scenery in your mind dies in an instant when you recall what the fuck you did last night. Maybe you are a low-down, dirty whore, just like your roomie said. She has the audacity to terrorize your subconscious enough to actually feature in one of your meat-beat sessions. Not only that, but you busted in two minutes to the thought of her demanding you to fix a window that isn’t even broken. 

You… are a hoe. How awkward. You just wanted to fight her days ago, and now your pussy’s got a crush. Not you, your pussy. You accepted that you and your cunt are two separate entities a long time ago. 

You lay in your bed, eyes melting holes into the ceiling; What the fuck is going on?

Ellie… sex… her asking for head… you asking for head from her… The math isn’t mathing. Ellie’s gay as a bitch, you know that for a fact, but why her? The math has never mathed, actually. You’re going to fail statistics, speaking of… Is statistics considered math? 

It’s still freezing in your apartment. Is Ellie still not back yet? Your shared space is never this silent or cold; A rat could be crawling around in search of cheese and you would hear it like a hounddog. 

You throw your blankets off and instantly regret it; You’re shocked snow isn’t falling from inside your fucking apartment. It has to be negative thirty in this bitch. If Ellie’s asleep, you don’t know how she survived the night. 

Your knees crack as you quietly pull your door open, light creaks from the hardwood sounding your walk to Ellie’s bedroom. You can’t imagine how crazy you look, ear pressed against her door, listening for any movement to prove that she’s alive and not a fucking block of ice. 

Either you’re hallucinating, or she’s mumbling in her sleep. Her voice is hushed and croaky, supposedly asking if Spider-man stole her fucking lunch money to pay the Pope back for stealing… something; You can’t pick up what she said from out here. Your hand flies over your mouth to hide a laugh. She must be exhausted; When did she get back last night? 

You let her sleep-talk in peace and head to the kitchen to brew your coffee. You really beat off to that bonehead. Go figure. 

For the first time since Ellie moved in, you’re gone before her. 

You’re strolling the icy streets, strutting to your heart’s content, Tina Snow vibrating your eardrums. Last night’s nut really did something incredible to your spirit; You’ve never felt lighter. One more unsuspecting gust of wind and you’re taking flight, for sure. Your brain gives subconscious Ellie knuckles. 

You burst through the coffee shop like you own it, silently celebrating when you realize there’s no line. You order and receive your dark drink in record time, taking a seat by the large window at the back of the shop. What gorgeous scenery! 

Your cup is almost empty when your phone vibrates on the table. It’s Maymay! You answer with the brightest smile. “My babyyy— “

“Bitch, cut the shit! Fuck you! Why haven’t you called?” She yells through the line. 

“Well, uh…” You almost committed arson in your building! “Just… just school stuff! You wouldn’t know about that, Ms. Celebrity!” 

Your best friend giggles, “Shut up! I’m a D-lister at most!” You shake your head in denial; That internship program doesn’t understand the blessing that Amaya holds. Her ear is godsend and she comprehends sound like no other. 

“How’s the roomie thing going? I haven’t heard much!” 

Oh, fuck. “… Fine.” 

She’s silent for a second, “The fuck does that mean?” 

Your fingernail snaps between your teeth. “I mean it’s fine, just like I said.” 

Amaya hums, clearly suspicious, “… Whatever you say, then.” 

“Yup.” 

She snorts. “Anyway… what’re you doing for Chri— “

“Ellie made me bust with her telepathy.” This is not the conversation you should be having in a coffee shop, but if people heard you, fuck it. 

“… Bitch… What?” 

“I didn’t wanna tell you, okay? I didn't! Incel made her way into my fucking brain and I busted! Sue me!” 

Silence passes, and then there’s laughter from the other line. “Are you high right now?” 

“No, it’s fucking nine in the morning— “

“Ain’t nothing wrong with a lil’ wake-and-bake— “

“I just told you I mentally fucked my roomie and that’s what you say?” 

She sighs, “I mean… I saw the picture you sent me. She's not ugly. Doesn’t seem like your type, though.” 

“She’s not my type! I thought about her for two seconds on accident and I came! Abby couldn’t even get me there and she—” 

“Woah, woah, pause… Abby couldn’t get you where?” 

“Not a location, bitch. I couldn’t bust!” A sharp gasp from her. Your brows furrow, “What?” 

“Oh, bitch…”

“What, Maya?” 

You hear the smile in her tone, “You gotta crush?” 

You gag, “Fuck no! Have you lost your mind! My…” You pause and check to see if anyone’s near. Nobody. You whisper-shout into the speaker, “My pussy’s crushing!” 

Amaya sucks her teeth in annoyance, “Girl…”

“It’s true! You know she gotta mind of her own! I can’t do anything about that!” 

Your bestie’s snickering to herself, “Whatever you say, mama. But for someone that thinks with her clit… you might wanna have a conversation with her. You know her better than anybody.” 

You’re stunned to say the least. You love Amaya to death, but she’s batshit crazy to suggest that you’re crushing on someone like Ellie. She called you a worthless tramp in broad daylight, for fucks sake. She wasn’t entirely wrong, but it still stung a little. 

You sip your coffee, “I love you… I gotta go.” 

“Mhm…” You hate how sure she sounds. “Love you, too.” 

You nervously twiddle your fingers until your first class, the day dragging even more than usual. Mainly due to the fact that you’re wondering if Amaya was right. Your lectures feel like a blur; All you can think about is Ellie. The spot-covered hermit. Squash-loving loser with a decent nose… and decent hands… and decently toned arms. 

Your pussy squeezes in the middle of class when you briefly envision them wrapped around you, and it sends a shockwave to your brain. 

Oh, shit. 

Raja was sweet enough to cover your shift for you; You can’t focus on credit card sales today. 

The second you enter your freezing apartment, you hear quiet sobs. Ellie sits at the small table as she scrolls through her phone, forms scattered all over the glass. She’s sniffling and wiping her face with her hoodie sleeve, and your brows crease. 

You shut the door behind you before making your way over to her. Not too close, though. 

“Uhh… you good?” 

“Yeah.” Her voice breaks, and something shifts in you. Somewhere in your chest. Why’re her cheeks so red?

“… You sure?” You cringe. 

“I said yeah.” 

She clearly doesn’t want to chat. Whatever’s going on, she can handle on her own. She doesn’t need coddling, especially from you. Why’re you still standing here?

“I, uh… I found a Snicker’s.” You slip. 

Ellie finally faces you, clearly confused. Why can’t you just shut the hell up for once? Another shift from your chest at her teary eyes. 

“What?” 

“I mean, uh, I bought a Snicker’s. Like, candy.” You pull said bar from your puffer pocket. You did buy it for Abby for when you see her to study, but it looks like your roomie needs it more. 

“… Okay?” 

You pull out and hand the wrapped chocolate out to her, “You’re not you when you’re hungry.” 

Her eyes switch between your face and the candy bar; She doesn’t look impressed. Maybe she’s allergic to nuts! You knew you should’ve got the fucking Sour Straws—

“Thanks.” 

You barely register her taking the bar, her cold fingers brushing against yours. Another zap in your brain. She rips it open and eats it in silence. An awkward chuckle from you, “Is it yummy?” You expect her to tell you to fuck off, but she doesn’t. She just nods and chews. 

Your nosiness gets the best of you, discreetly inspecting the forms on the table. A bunch of random names are crossed out in her notebook, a couple of signed forms crumpled up and raggedy. You don’t know what any of this means. 

“You’re not slick.” Ellie talks with her mouth full.

“Hm?” 

“You’re really gonna read my shit like that?” 

You take a seat next to her, “… I didn’t.” 

“Okay,” She mumbles. “Remember…” She scratches at her ear, “Remember that booking that got canceled because of the storm?” You nod. She swallows the last bits of her candy. “I was supposed to take pictures of this couple before their wedding, but…” 

“They, uh… They don’t wanna reschedule. Said it’s too hectic because of the holidays and there’s not enough time.” 

You hum, “Okay… So, what does that mean?” 

“I can’t submit my portfolio without those pictures. And it fucked my money up.” 

“Damn… how much were they paying?” 

She scoffs, “A lot. I don’t even wanna think about how much I lost trying to get the setup right.” 

You ponder for a second, “I mean, I’m sure there’s other people who want nice pics. You’ve been hustling this whole time— “

She interrupts, “I don’t wanna hustle anymore. I’m… I’m tired. It’s fucking exhausting doing promotions by yourself.” 

You hear the stress in her voice, and you feel for her. Being a full-time creative can be pretty shitty at times. Most times. The amount of attempts you’ve had in commissioning in your lifetime is astronomical; Some pick-ups, lots of disappointment. 

“What was the shoot about? Like… the scene, I guess.” 

Ellie nibbles at her lip, “Romance.” 

“Boooring,” You joke. Ellie doesn’t laugh, so you cough awkwardly. “You gotta come up with a new plan, I guess. It’s all about the grind mentality.” 

“You sound like a misogynist with a podcast.” 

You chuckle and she continues, “There’s no new plan. The portfolio I’m submitting is based on emotion. It’s not… complete if love isn’t somewhere in there. That’s how I see it.” 

“Speaking of see, can I?” You arch your brow, “Your portfolio, I mean.” 

“No.” She says plainly. 

“Wha— why not? You saw my paintings!” 

“They’re on the wall… in the living room. There’s no other choice but to look at them.” 

“Bro, what the fuck. You’re not the only visualist in this house! I might have some pointers you could use!” 

“I don’t need pointers from you.” Aggravation clouds her pupils. You try not to take offense to that, but it doesn’t work. 

“Why the fuck not?” You glare. 

Her tone gets louder, “Because you wouldn’t understand it! Why do you wanna help so badly, anyway!”

“I’m—“ But you don’t know what to say. Why do you want to help? Ellie squints, awaiting your answer, but nothing comes out. You’re uncomfortable; It’s suddenly not that cold in here. 

“Whatever. Forget I asked!” You rise and march to your room. Another slammed door, another pending noise complaint. 

Ellie hasn’t talked to you in days, and you’re not sure why it’s bothering you. You’ve been sending her looks throughout the entire stats lecture, but she hasn’t acknowledged you once. She’s just scribbling and tapping her ballpoint on her notebook. Her notetaking seems very intense from where you sit, her eyes scanning the board. 

Does Ellie like math? Or logistics? Or whatever statistics is considered? Curiosity pokes at you; You don’t know much about your roommate. You’ve been living together for nearly a month, and you haven’t had one valuable conversation yet. What about photography interests Ellie so much? Why does she enjoy disgusting vegetables? When did she get her tattoo? Is she actually gay or are you a dickhead for assuming? 

Your venturing thoughts makes class fly by; Another successful day of not taking useful notes! 

Ellie’s packing her run-down backpack and you watch. She’s meticulously placing her books on top of each, at least from what you can see from the big hole on the side. Her headphones are thrown on, and in one swift motion, her bag is on her shoulder and she’s heading towards the door, holding it open for everyone leaving. 

You swiftly pack and walk towards the exit. Ellie’s too distracted by her phone to notice you turn the corner to watch her. All the students vacant the room, and she lets the door shut. You follow from a distance as she moves towards the staircase, down the steps, out into the quad and onto the open field. She pauses, so you do too. 

You follow her line of vision, right at the sky. It’s pretty today: the sun’s peeking out, just barely, from underneath the dark gray clouds, rays of light highlighting various sections of the quad. 

Ellie unzips and digs in her bag, retrieving the olive-green polaroid before setting her bag down on the frosted grass. She maneuvers around the grass, trying to avoid obstruction from the trees, adjusting her stance, picking the best angle before holding her camera up. One quick flash, and she’s holding a photo of the sky. 

She shakes the picture a bit before squatting to search through her bag, pulling out a large binder and placing the photo in a laminated encasing. You can’t see any of the pictures in detail, but there must be a lot in there. That binder is thick as fuck. 

And just like that, she’s off into the cold. 

You wonder what else is in that binder. 

You’re starving. The second you get that direct deposit, you’re whipping up something fierce. Shrimp and eggplant have been calling your name for weeks; You’re ravenous for it. 

You run up to the apartment to snag a granola bar, Ellie already in the kitchen, propped against the counter eating Kraft mac and cheese. 

You shut the door behind you, “Wonderful weather we’re having, isn’t it?” 

Ellie stops chewing, eyes large and soft cheeks filled with creamy noodles. “Hm?” 

You walk to the cupboards, mouthwatering for Nature Valley, “It’s just beautiful outside! The trees, the sky! Almost pretty enough to paint, ain’t it!” 

More chewing. She just shrugs, but you’re not having it, “I wish I gotta picture!” 

“… Go take one.” 

“Oh, my fucking god,” you mutter to yourself, “Can I see the picture you took earlier?” 

“… How’d you know— “

“The details aren’t important! I was thinkiiing,” you rip open the wrapping, “if I can’t see your portfolio, I can see that giant photo book you have!” 

She glances around awkwardly, “Were you watching me earlier?” 

“… Well, yes— “

“What the fu— why?” 

“I like seeing people do shit they enjoy.” You shrug and bite your bar. Ellie isn’t looking at you, but her cheeks tint, and it makes you grin. Interesting. 

You chew and swallow, “Especially talented people.” You inch closer, just barely. “You should show me some pictures sometime… I’ll show you some of my secret creations, too. A little exchange, if you will.” 

Her fingers clench around her plastic spoon, and her breathing changes, cheeks even brighter. Her hands are very nice… They look so soft. 

“Think about it,” you say, quieter, just between the two of you, “Call it… roommate bonding.” You crunch and adjust your bag before walking towards the door. “I think it’s overdue!” You throw over your shoulder before shutting the door behind you. 

You’re not sure if Ellie likes or hates compliments. 

Closing was so hectic; you don’t make it home until one in the morning. Training rookies is probably the worst part about working in hardware; They never know where shit goes. 

You don’t feel tired, though. The drive back home is usually when your exhaustion takes over, but this ride was smooth. Sleep is going to be difficult to come by tonight. 

You unlock your front door and… push. And push. And push again. What the fuck. Something’s blocking the door. You fight with the wood until the crack is wide enough to slip through. The smell in the air is very telling as to why there’s a pile of hoodies blocking the slim opening at the bottom of the door. 

Your mouth gapes at the sight of Ellie on the couch with no pants on, blunt in her hand… blowing O’s. Her eyes are glistening and lazy when she opens them. You quickly shut the door and kick the hoodies in their original position before the scent escapes. 

“Hey,” she mutters. Goosebumps rise on your arms at her voice. 

“… Why the fuck are you chiefing in this no smoke building.” 

She stares like you’re stupid. “De-stressing.”

“Deez-fucking nuts! Ellie, we’re not gonna have a place to sleep if we get caught. Bitch ass Carol doesn’t play that shit.” You hate your landlord with every fiber of your being. The second anyone accidentally breaks a rule, she’s on their ass like grass. You can’t imagine how she’s going to react if she sees Ellie being disobedient on purpose. You’ll both be living out of your car. Fucking hag. 

Your roommate sighs and crosses her legs, boxer shorts riding up her taut thighs. Alright, okay. She pats the empty cushion next to her. 

“I'm bored.” 

“Okay, what about it.” 

She taps the cushion again. Your heartbeat spikes for some reason. “Roommate bonding.” 

You gawk. Ellie’s never been this relaxed in your presence. Her posture is incredibly comfortable, leaning back against the propped pillows, manspreading. Why is it attractive?

So, you drop your bag and unzip your puffer before plopping down next to her. She says nothing, just extends the lit herb to you. You look between her and the big B. “That’s a fat doinker.” 

“… Right.” Ellie puffs once more before attempting to share. 

You push her cold hand back softly, “I don’t smoke.” 

“Okay.” One last long pull from her, and she’s putting out the grass on the ashtray. “Do you wanna play checkers?” She exhales around smoke clouds, cold air blowing in from the barely cracked window. 

“… What.” 

“I said do you wanna play checke— “ 

“Are you a lesbian?” 

Your eyes widen at your own question. Interrogation? Fuck. Ellie’s looking around the warm space blankly as if she’s trying to register what the fuck you just said. You’re a fucking asshole. 

“E-Ellie, I’m sorry, I dunno why I asked— “

“Can you not tell.” 

“Well, yeah.” You stutter, “… But I thought it was like… fucked up to assume based on uh, appearances, or whatever. I don’t have good gay-dar, so.” 

“I’ve been called a carpet muncher since I was eight.” 

“… Fuck, really?” She nods, face flat. Your fist extends, silently asking for knuckles, “Me too! That’s what’s up.” 

“I almost killed myself.”

Your fist drops with your expression. “Oh… uh, damn… Sorry… I’m glad you didn’t, though, real shit.” 

“What does love feel like?” 

This conversation is giving you whiplash. “Are you one of those fake-deep potheads? Like, you believe in flat earth and all that other bullshit?” 

Ellie blinks dumbly, “Uhh… I don’t think so…” 

“Why do you ask?” 

Ellie points at the wall, at one of your paintings. Two women laying on a bed of grass, completely at peace, surrounded by colorful flowers and butterflies. A small smile spreads across your face, recalling how excited you were to show your first girlfriend what you made for her birthday. 

“Love feels like you're getting shot… but not in a bad way.” You ramble. “It’s like… like, fuck I’m really gonna die without this person next to me type shit.” You think back to when you made the painting on the wall, the memories of your younger self so deeply infatuated with another person for the first time. It felt eternal back then, souls interconnected. 

But then your eyes travel to the next painting, right below the latter. Complete void, no color, no life, just darkness, and your expression falls. The faceless girl trapped in the center of madness is calm, though, accepting her doom with grace. 

“That makes it worse, though…” You think of Dina and how you fought. How nasty it got. How disgusted she seemed with your presence. You almost want to cry as you relive it. “When they leave… something inside you really does die. That space never really gets filled again. You’re just kinda… stuck with a hole until you croak over.” 

“What if they don’t leave?” 

They all leave. “… I’m not sure yet.” 

Ellie hums and it goes quiet for a moment. You wonder what she’s thinking about. 

“Are you a lesbian?” Your roommate throws back at you. You laugh, “Are you asking if I eat coochie?” 

Ellie nods with a giggle. You stiffen; This is the first time you’ve heard her laugh. The hairs on your arms stand upright at the sound. 

“As a matter of fact, I do!” Ellie laughs harder, head resting against the back of the couch. You watch the apple of her cheeks heighten. But then the wind blows harder than normal and they drop. She's blank again. “The heater…” 

“What about it?” 

“It’s broken…” 

Fuck. “Did you put in a maintenance request?” Her head shakes. 

“Uh… why not?” 

“Because I heard you masturbating and forgot.” 

Your heart, stomach, pride is at your feet, “… What did you just say.” 

Ellie finally looks at you, eyes doe-like, guilt swimming in them. “I’m… I’m sorry! I was sleeping and I woke up to pee but I couldn’t because you were— “

“Ellie— “

“It kept… buzzing, and I couldn’t move! I kept asking

myself how is her stamina this fucking good! It didn’t turn off until like… an hour later! I almost pissed in my bed— “

Your body heats at her confession; She thought about your stamina? You place a hand on her shoulder to ease her, and she stops. “It’s okay. I just… Yeah, this is awkward… We gotta submit that request before that next blizzard or we’re fucked.” 

Ellie mutters in agreement, but she’s not listening. She’s eyeing your fingers, the ones resting on her shirt. If you move your thumb an inch, you’ll touch her collarbone. 

“We, um… We can send it in the morning…” She whispers okay, and your fingers curl around the fabric. A sharp inhale from her, and you sigh. Her warm breath is hitting your wrist and you’re trying not to squirm. You watch her chest rise and fall at a steady pace, eyes flicking between yours and your hand. 

You watch her and she watches you, hand inching up until you’re tracing the warm skin under her tee. Your nail scratches her collarbone, just barely, and the muscles in her thigh jerk. Nope. Not happening. You pull away and stand. 

“This was… you’re funny.” You stare at your feet; You never took your shoes off. “Uh… bye.” 

“Bye.” Her voice is flat. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you fucked up. 

Your shoes go flying and you rush to your room. You’re not sure if you slammed the door or not; The pounding in your ears is too loud. 

Ellie fucked up. She knows she did. 

I heard you masturbating and forgot? You left over an hour ago, and she’s still replaying that moment in her mind. What the fuck was she thinking? She wants to peel her skin off and her stomach is in knots. The ghost of your hand is still on her. She was freezing before you came home, and now she’s overheating. 

Ellie thinks she’s done a good job of acting normally around you after that night. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about it. All the time. 

She hates how, every night since it happened, she listens for you. When you come home in the wee hours of the night, the devil convinces her that you’re aching and desperate, dripping and ready to get yourself to the peak you crave. You’ve been working so hard; You deserve to wind down. 

It’s sick, she knows. She masks it well, but every time you're home, she’s hot. Roommate bonding, you’d said. Why did you say it like that, though? You sounded so alluring, like a siren preparing for a kill. 

Maybe she’s reading into it too much. You're a flirt and you’re good at it… 

It’s either hot or cold with you. Compliments, or cursing. Admiration or judgment. There’s no middle ground, and it’s driving her crazy. 

Why did you have to touch her? You could’ve kept your distance like you’ve been doing, like you did in the kitchen. You gave her a chance to run at arm's length. 

Ellie’s thoughts are racing; She needs to smoke again, but she’s too distracted to spark. That ache between her thighs is overpowering. 

Her eyes travel over the painting that captured her attention a few weeks ago. A small self portrait of you. She commends your attention to detail, but still, you’re so gorgeous in person; There’s no comparison. 

Two deep breaths, and her hand is shoved in her boxers, fingers slippery in seconds. She keeps her eyes glued to the painting as she rubs her clit in quick circles, the bud increasing her sensitivity. 

It’s like the painting moves with every squeeze of her walls: she can almost see your animated eyes rolling into your skull, your pink tongue out, drool dripping down your chin. And your voice… It’s tantalizing when you want something. She can almost hear you now: it’s so good, right there, I love when you touch me like that. 

Fuck, she wants your hands on her. Everywhere. Anywhere you want. She’s breathing so loud; She hopes you dozed off by now, even in your noticeably restless state. 

But what if you’re not? What if you forgot something in the living room, or need a drink of water before bed, and you walk in and see the mess you make her? Her hand moves faster at the thought of you angry, disappointed that she couldn’t keep her hands to herself. She’ll never say, but something wicked happens in her underwear when you're fuming. She likes how expressive your eyes are. 

Her free hand flies over her mouth as her stomach tightens, the beats in her clit and heart synced. She's so close. A few seconds, and she groans into her hand, the walls melting around her when it finally crashes. Tears jerk in her eyes as she rubs herself through it, riding it out for as long as she can. 

The hand on her mouth slides under her shirt, cold fingers prodding her nipple as her orgasm descends. She gasps into the cold air, trying to catch her breath. She palms her clit and her walls twitch. She tiredly plops onto the couch, hand still in her underwear, eyes glued to your portrait, scaling the wall until she revisits the depiction of you and your first girlfriend. 

The idea Ellie’s been sitting on for the last few days crashes down on her again. You’re soft, despite what others may say. You seem like a lover. 

It’s Friday. Rent is due. Fuck. 

You just got paid, and now more than half of your earnings is in your landlord's pocket. You haven’t even been grocery shopping yet. 

Ellie has, apparently. It smells so good in the kitchen. You take back whatever you said about her and her cheffing skills. That soup was delicious; You secretly hope she cooks more. She can get down… a little bit. 

You wipe the tired from your eyes and make way to the kitchen, and your jaw drops, stunned in your spot by the fridge. Empty grocery bags are stacked on the counter, and Ellie’s frying shrimp and eggplant. 

“Hi… you didn’t eat last night. I heard you talking about egg— “

Your whimper, followed by several guttural sobs interrupt her greeting, hand flying over your mouth. Ellie simply stands by the counter with wide eyes, fork in hand. 

Ellie thinks you’ve stopped crying, “Uh… I just wante— “

More loud sobs from you. Snot dribbles down from your nose and Ellie cringes, tearing a piece of paper towel and handing it to you. You take it graciously and blow your nose. 

“This is,” sob “the best thing a-anyone,” sniffle… sob “has ever done f-for me.”

Ellie just nods and flips the eggplant. You can’t control yourself, arms wrapping around her waist, sobbing into her back. 

“I, um… Consider it a peace offering, I guess.” 

“I take back,” heave “I take back whatever dumb shit I said about you before you moved in,” heave “You’re so… fuck you, Ellie!” You hug her tighter. 

“Queers gotta stick together.” She mumbles. 

“Like wet pussy lips!” You wail, fat tears seeping into her t-shirt. She snickers to herself, “Get a plate.” 

You sniffle all the way to the cupboards and set the tiny table. 

Chef Butch. That’s Ellie’s new name around these parts. 

For someone who supposedly “hates eggplant”, she seasoned and fried the fuck out of it. Get this bitch on the Food Network!

You’re full and energized before leaving the house for once. You don’t even need your morning coffee. 

“Hey, uh… can I ask you something?” Ellie calls from the table.

You pause dish scrubbing to look at her, “Mhm.” 

“It’s kinda… a big deal.” She mutters, eyes flickering nervously. 

“… Should I sit down, or?”

“It’s not bad. It’s just… I don’t know.” 

You rinse your hands and set the last plate on the rack to dry. You grab a clean towelette and sit across from her. Ellie can’t meet your eyes and her cheeks are fiery. You smirk. 

“Need help with something?” 

Her head bobs, eyes glued to the table. 

“Then ask me.” You lean closer. Ellie whispers your name. A deep sigh from her, lips parting around her question. 

“Do you wanna model for my portfolio— “

“Of course I’ll help you send nudes— “

Confusion paints her face, “What.”

“…What.” 

“What did you just say.” 

“Nothing.” You shrug, face burning. 

“You can say no. It’s not that serious.” That guarded twinge in Ellie’s voice has returned. You don’t like it. 

“You think I’m pretty?” You tease with a pout. 

“What.” 

“You think I’m sooo hot and sexy that you’re gonna make me the star of your— “

Ellie blushes, “You’re not the… star of anyth— “

Your hands wave excitedly, “I’m so honored! I’d love to! When do we start!” 

Ellie sighs, massaging her temples, “Do you have work on Sunday?” 

“Not anymore!” You do a little dance in your seat, “What am I gonna be doing in the pics, o ye camera master?” Her ears are so red. Why is she so fucking nervous? You’ve already accepted! 

“Just look like you’re in love.” 

“… Oh.” 

Ellie grimaces at your tone, “Listen, I only have two weeks to finish this submission. I haven’t had any luck finding people to help me out!” 

You pause, “Is this why you buttered me up with a buss down plate?” 

“… Would you hate me if I said yes?” 

“Fuck, Ellie— “

“I’m desperate!” She exclaims, “But I also don’t wanna just ask anybody! I need the photos to be believable! And you kinda… you kinda get it!” Ellie points to the painting of you and your first love. 

The silence is thick as you explore her face. Her forestry-filled eyes are nervous, but there’s a glimmer of hope in her pupils. You like it; Her orbs look brighter. Greener somehow.

“I wanna see it, then.” 

“See what?” 

“Your big ass binder… and your portfolio!” 

Her eyes roll. “Pick one.” 

“Wooow, you’re really gonna ruin another opportunity for roommate bonding? That’s wild. Alright.” 

“Pick one.” She’s stern with her demand… You like that, too. 

You smirk. “Show me your portfolio.” 

She crosses her arms over her chest. “You see it when it’s finished. After the pictures are done. Take it or leave it.” 

“Okay, damn,” You give up, “So… what do I gotta do for prep?” 

“Not much right now. I have to set up my equipment and all that…” She glances around the living room, “we’ll talk about the rest later.” 

“‘Kay.” You twiddle your fingers together before the biggest light bulb shines over your head. 

“I also get 40% of the earnings— “

“Fuck no.” She says with a small grin. You pout. 

You knew something was wrong when Abby randomly invited you over to study… on a Saturday night. You don’t know how she’s a STEM major; You haven’t seen her with a book since you’ve met her! 

The second she opened her door, something was off. It’s been days since you’ve seen her and she barely reacted to the grilled cheese you brought. Her answers have been curt and she’s not laughing at any of your jokes. Your Cheetos are doing a great job at soothing your anxiety. You want to comfort your friend with whatever’s bothering her, but you’re not sure how. 

So, you talk. And talk. And talk about Ellie.

“I’m not gonna lie,” You crunch, comfortable on Abby’s beanbag. “I’m kinda excited! I’ve never done a photoshoot before.” 

Abby shrugs from her work desk, voice monotone, “I mean, just be mindful. It’s obviously not a game for her so you needa take it seriously.” 

Your brows furrow, “What do you mean?” 

“Your roommate slash crush— “

Your head shakes, “I don’t have a crush— “

“Slash crush,” Your friend emphasizes, “asked you to be a part of probably one of the biggest creations of her life. If that photo book or whatever is as important as you say, it’s not just a “photoshoot” for her.” 

… Nah, you’re still confused. 

Abby scoffs, “A photoshoot about romance and you’re her only model, making you breakfast, and whatever else she’s done! How much does she have to spell it out for you?” 

“I don’t understand why you’re yelling!”

“I’m not fucking yelling! I’m watching out for you before you do something you regret!” 

You sit up straighter, “And what does that mean!”

“What have you been saying this entire time? I don’t wanna live with someone I fucked!” She mocks, “It seems like y’all are pretty close to that.” 

You stare pensively, “We haven’t fucked and we’re not going to! You’re doing the fucking most!” 

“Yeah, whatever.” She continues to scribble. 

“Abby… what’s wrong?” You clumsily stand from the bean bag. “I’m so con— “

“You wanna know what’s wrong?” She snaps, pen slamming on the desk. “Every time we see each other, you talk about her! I’m sick of hearing about… whatever the fuck you have going on at home, quite frankly! We can’t even joke around because you’re so pressed about someone you don’t even like!” 

You’re going to cry; You can feel it. Abby’s never been this upset with you, “Why did you wait so long to tell me this? I would’ve stopped coming to you a long time ago!” 

“Because I cared and didn’t want you to feel by yourself while Maya’s away! That’s why! But now, it’s like…” 

A tired sigh from her and she gives up, hand waving dismissively, “Talking about this shit is pointless. I’m going to bed. Shut the door behind you.” Abby rises and brushes past you, switching her lamp off and climbing into her warm bed. You allow your tears to fall as you gather your belongings, gently shutting her door behind you and attacking your face with your sleeve. You hate crying in public. 

The elevator ride feels much longer than it should’ve been as you weep. The doors shutter open, and you can see the weather is not on your side. It’s pelting bullets outside; You knew you shouldn’t have walked. 

“You got a ride?” 

You look over at the security guard perched behind the front desk. Fuck all feds, but Stanley’s cool. You shake your head. 

“You can’t walk home in that. Driving is also dangerous but,” He shrugs, and you sigh. You pull your phone out of your pocket. 

“Hey, Siri… Call Chef Butch…” 

“CALLING CHEF BUTCH.” 

Stanley’s warm laughter eases your shoulders. 

DING!

You unlock your phone and smile at Ellie’s text, rising from your chair. 

“Alright, Stan. Pray I don’t turn into Frosty out there,” You throw over your shoulder. 

He laughs, opening the heavy door for you, “I will! Get home safely!” You throw your hood over your beanie, easing past him and nearly being blown away by the fucking wind. How did Ellie drive in this shit!

You somehow manage to follow the view of your car, pounding on the passenger window to get Ellie to unlock it. You miss your step on the curb and fall face first into the seat. You hear Ellie’s laughter. 

“You alright?” 

“Yup! Fucking peachy, thanks!” You stumble in and slam the door with the wind, out of breath, body melting from the heat. “You couldn’t have parked a little closer?” 

“… No.” 

You stare at her through the snow in your lashes, “Ellie, take us home, please. I’m annoyed and going through a fucking breakdown, like I can’t be outside right now. I’m gonna pass out!”

“… You wanna talk about it?” 

“No.” You spit. 

“Alright.” She puts the car in drive, but her foot is still pressed on the brake. 

“I just can’t believe this shit right now!” You ramble anyway. “You think you know a person, like, fuck! This is stupid!” You punch the glove compartment. 

“… What happ— “

“Like, fuck! Fuuuck! Like what the fuck!” 

You’re screaming your head off and Ellie’s just watching, face flat as ever. It makes you scream louder. But your wails pause when your eyes flicker downward. Veiny hands clenched around the steering wheel. Your screams suddenly sound like whimpers. When’s the last time you had sex?

Is it sad that the thought of Ellie choking you out is easing your meltdown? This is the worst day ever! 

“I’m gonna rip my fucking face off— “

“Why're you staring at my hands like that?”

“What the fuck, I’m not staring. Be quiet.” 

Your roommate grins like a fox, “Okay.” 

The car’s moving and so are your eyes, all over Ellie, wherever they can reach. You’re pissed and horny and you need a shot. 

“You ever get the urge to strangle the fuck outta someone?”

“Mhm.” 

You ponder, “How does it feel to smoke weed?” 

She shrugs, “It feels good.”

“How good? Scale of one to ten.” 

“… Thirteen.”

“Better than sex?” You ask quietly. Your brain is elsewhere, locked on the bulging blue veins in her hand, following the lines through her hoodie. 

She ponders, “… Yes.” 

“You’re biased, though. I can’t trust you.” 

“Stop staring at my hands like that.” Her low voice is like a kick in your back, spine slightly arching in your chair. You’re glad she’s looking at the road; She’s making you go into heat and she doesn’t need to see it. Maybe Abby was right about you being a fucking hypocrite. 

“Or what?” Your tone is icy, and she licks her lips. 

“I’ll pull over.” 

You shudder at her boldness, “Pull over.” 

Your car jerks to a stop and you jolt forward, eyes still glued onto Ellie’s mouth. One kiss… It isn’t sex. It’s just kissing; Who doesn’t love kissing? You’re alone and warm and it’s gorgeous outside. It would be just a kiss. Just one, just one. 

Ellie’s staring at you, eyes reminiscent of the storm outside. Flurrying and dark. Her tongue swipes over her lips again, and your gut swirls. “Stop staring at my hands.” You suck your bottom lip in your mouth when her breath hits it. She’s leaning forward and so are you. Just one kiss, that’s all you need. 

Your pussy’s talking and she’s loud… Literally meowing for her. 

“Is that a fucking cat?” Ellie whispers, nose brushing yours… She can hear that? How horny are you? 

“Dude, that’s a cat! There’s a cat right there!” Her gasps shock you, and you peer out the window, finding a small, dark spot in gusts of white snow. There is a cat! 

“Oh, my fucking god! Ellie, what the fuck—“ You’re pushing the door open and she grabs your arm. 

“Wait, you’re gonna fucking fall— “

“We can’t leave her, she’s gonna die out here!” You rush out in seconds and you’re slipping like a cartoon character on a banana. You’re kissing the air to lure the kitty over, but she just cries. She’s probably starving! 

“C’mere, baby, c’mon!” You hear Ellie muttering curses from behind you. After almost busting your face on icy concrete, you’re finally close enough to scoop up the shivering ball of fur, and you’re sobbing as you wrap your scarf around her tiny body. 

“Ellie,” you choke, “We ca—can’t leave h-her— “

“Okay, okay, stop crying, where is she?” You hold up the bundled fabric and Ellie gently takes her, shoving her in her hoodie before grabbing your wrist and guiding you to the car. Ellie hops in the driver's seat, the car filled with desperate meows and your hysterical sobs. 

Ellie cranks the heat and holds the wrapped furball, softly cooing at her. 

“Where’s your mama, hm?” 

Meow! 

“No mama?” 

Meow! Meow!

You’re wailing, “She’s a fucking or—orphan— “

“Can you be quiet.” Ellie snaps. 

“O—“you sniffle harshly, “Ok—okay— “

“Hold her, I gotta drive. We’re going to Petco.” Ellie’s zooming down the street, whipping and swerving. You’re almost positive she ran a red light. 

“I know you don’t like small animals, but c-can we keep her, please— “

Ellie’s lip curls, “It’s not that I don’t… not like them—” She rambles on, but you’re so focused on the baby in front of you. Poor thing looks so tired. What if she’s sick? Oh God, she would’ve froze to death if you didn’t stop—

You blabber to her between choked whimpers, “I love you so much, we’re gonna get you safe, don’t worry— “

“Oh, my fucking god,” Ellie sighs softly beside you. 

Pheromones will have to wait. You’re a mother now. 

After your emergency pet escapade, you and Ellie sneak the cat past the complex security and into your apartment. If anyone finds out — if Carol finds out — you’re fucked… and unhoused. 

Small meows are filling your ears. Your baby’s full, at least. Poor thing was horking down minced tuna in the car. Her teeth are so small and cute. She looks like she’s going to doze off soon. 

You watch as Ellie sets up her little area in the living room… Right next to her fucking photography set up when the fuck did she do that—

The corner of the living room is fully decked with maroon and ebony backdrops, Ellie’s sticker-littered camera resting proudly on its stand. There’s a… big ass umbrella-looking thing towering over the setup and a stool on the dark floor cover. There’s a small, white briefcase on it, tied down with a padlock. It’s either a gun or her portfolio. 

“Bring her over here.” 

Your gawking gets cut short as you cradle kitty over to Ellie, handing her over so she can lay her on the small, paw-shaped bed. She’s purring; Your heart’s melting. 

“I see you haven’t changed your mind.” 

Ellie’s tucking your baby in, “About?” She hums.

“The shoot.” You whisper. 

“Why would I?” She faces you and stands. You shrug nonchalantly, but your mind’s racing. You probably found someone worthy of doing it. 

Ellie inches closer, looking down at you. “Consider it roommate bonding… Featuring adopted cat child.” 

You giggle. She's staring at your smile, all over your face. Into your eyes. Yours flicker down to her mouth. Either you're hallucinating, or she’s leaning closer. One kiss won’t hurt. 

“Um…” She whispers, gaze dropping to the floor. “Earlier I was gonna… say something.” 

“What is it?” 

She shrugs, “… I forgot.” 

“Okay.” You’re whispering now. She’s staring at your mouth. Her eyes are hypnotizing; There's a universe in them. A forest with trees that grow for eternities, miles and miles of green meadows. 

“You’re staring.” She mutters. 

“So are you.” 

Ellie wants to say something. You can see it. But she doesn’t, and neither do you. “Gotta get up early… I’ll see you tomorrow?” Her voice cracks. 

You’re cheesing and your hearts in your throat. “Yes. See you tomorrow.” 

One last toothy grin, she’s gone into her room, door shutting softly for the first time. You exhale like you’ve been holding your breath, already missing her presence. 

You’re giddy when you finally climb into bed. You can’t help but think that Ellie is, too. 

longest taglist ive ever had i am very sorry if i forgot somebody pls dont hate me i am neurodivergent : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane @muthafuckingstargirl @mina-281 @yuckyfucky @aimformyheartt @elstoy @skylerwhitwyo @sawaagyapong @nil-eena @dewylittlestars @sakiigami @feelsoseencantdream @ellieslittlegf @fictionalgap @liabadoobee @whooknooows @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @qtgaslighter @p4ison1vy @eviestevie-14 @weaselot @elliewbbg @elsmissingfingers @lmaoo-spiderman @lyssaspengler @elliewilliamsmunch @gummydummykj @kiwikeysblog @juniorsfav @louleele @alittlextrahoney @tohoko @333-starhotline @girlkissersco @saplingkoi @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @elliew-illiamsmissingfingers @diddiqueen @alexisvs-world @mostlyhornyandsad @lolaaa699999 @elsblunt @niyahlovesu

[bluebeary-jay]

How easy you are to need

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel notices that the peaceful life in Jackson has its consequences. he is not happy about it (based on this wonderful ask!)

Tags: TONS OF ANGST, but also FLUFF, established relationship, ahh intrusive thoughts (how much i hate them), Joel is probably ooc but i don't care anymore, also he's soft and insecure and vulnerable

Warnings: body dismorphia and lots of self-loathing on Joel's side, at one (two?) points borderline on smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) hihihi, swearing, drinking (just mentioned), suggestive stuff bc apparently i can't help myself 😌

Word count: 8K ! (8028 specifically woah)

A/N: the next fic will definitely be shorter bc i really need to start caring less about the quality of my work, it takes way too long for my liking. buuut anyway as always 🎶i hope yall will like it🎶 this is my birthday gift for you guys 💕

Joel looked at himself in the mirror with furrowed brows.

He pulled in his stomach and tried to zip his pants. It still fit, but barely. He undid the zip, turned to the side and looked at his reflection again, just to make sure.

Yeah. This pair was definitely loose until a while ago.

He glanced at the door, but didn’t hear you coming, so he sighed and looked in the mirror again. Joel was never particularly muscular, but he could no longer see those thin lines which accentuated his torso before. There was also a bit of fat above the hem of his jeans, and his frame seemed somehow heavier…

Good thing his left ear was directed to the door, because he heard the moment the water in the shower stopped running, which meant you were coming back from the bathroom. Joel spared himself one last wary look and zipped up his pants before turning around to your shared bed where his shirt lay discarded.

He was putting his arms into the sleeves when you entered. A couple of light steps, and then Joel smiled when he felt your arms wrapping around his torso. He glanced over his shoulder at you.

“You took your sweet time in the shower,” he pointed out, and he could feel your smile when you pressed your face to his back.

“We finally have hot water, so I’m gonna use it every chance I get.”

“You left some for me?”

You huffed a laugh and went around him, moving his hands away and starting to button his shirt yourself.

“There would be, if you took a shower with me.”

“Next time, sweetheart,” he chuckled and leaned in to kiss your forehead softly, combing his fingers through your wet hair. He hummed. “Your hair smells nice.”

“It’s that shampoo Ellie didn’t want.” You shook your head with a smile. “I have no idea why, it’s fantastic.”

You buttoned up the last button and smoothed your palms over his chest and down, lastly resting them on his waist. Internally Joel furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if he could always feel this fold when you put your hands in that place.

“You look handsome,” you whispered, looking up at him with twinkling eyes and such a soft, love-struck expression on your face that Joel felt his throat constricting. Everything but the sight of you faded from his mind, and he joined his hands behind your back, pulling you closer into his chest and basking in this precious smile you blessed him with. “Especially with the bed hair.”

“It’s your doin’, you know,” he murmured in response, nudging your nose with his and reminiscing how you tugged and raked your nails through his hair the night before. “You gotta be careful with it, sweet girl. If you continue doin’ it, m’gonna go bald soon.”

You hummed noncommittally and leaned against his chest, standing on your tip-toes. “I’ll take it under consideration. No promises, though.”

Joel lifted his hand to the back of your neck and kissed you slowly, reveling in the soft sigh that left your lips. You rested your palm above his heart, leaning forward to the point that you would fall over if he wasn’t supporting your weight.

But Joel held you tight and close to his body, gladly steadying you as you deepened the kiss, once again tugging on his graying hair in that way he adored. He wanted to tease you about it, but his thoughts strayed to the image of his body again when you lowered your hand from his chest to his side.

“You remember that tonight is this party?” you asked suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts. Joel gave up pondering about his physique and sighed heavily at your question, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yeah, I remember. Regrettably.”

“I don’t want to go, either,” you whispered with guilt, as if someone would hear you both. “But Tommy really wanted us to come and… Just don’t make me go alone.”

“Hey, darlin’.” Joel took your face in his hands and looked deeply into your eyes. “I promised, didn’t I? M’not gonna leave you there on your own.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, smiling against them. “And mind you, I gotta make sure no one will try to seduce and steal you away from me.”

You giggled, and you were standing so close that Joel could feel your eyelashes tickling his skin. He held you close when you tried to take a step back, and your lips collided again.

“That is the one thing you don’t need to ever worry about,” you murmured quietly into the space between you two. “How could I even look at other people when I have you all to myself?”

Joel’s reflection in the mirror flashed across his mind again and a small wave of uncertainty rippled through him, but it quickly disappeared when you opened your eyes and looked at him with this raw love radiating from them. Your every word, every affectionate gesture only confirmed his conviction that you meant every word you said.

So why did he still feel so uncertain?

*****

Life in Jackson was perfect. Considering the state of the world right now, living here was like winning a lottery.

Joel had a lot to be thankful for, he was well aware of that. No longer had he any fears or sense of guilt about going to sleep and leaving you and Ellie defenseless if something were to happen. He didn’t have to count rations anymore, worrying that the kid would be forced to march all day hungry. There was now no need to keep a watchful eye for new clothes if someone’s worn off, ripped or got soaked from walking in the rain, posing a threat of you or Ellie catching a cold.

Back in Boston it wasn’t much different, though he and you had at least a bed to sleep in, as uncomfortable as it was. But there was never enough food for all those people Fedra kept there, and the winters were cold as hell, leaving at least one of you a bit sick every year.

None of those things were keeping him awake at night anymore. The only people he had to take care of – you and Ellie – were safe and comfortable. None of you had to starve or freeze, and you all didn’t have to continue walking across the country for days and days without end, struggling to survive.

Maybe that was the problem.

Joel wasn’t stupid. He knew that those luxuries he had an access to now were at the root of his problem. Before you all settled in Jackson, you were constantly on the move, fighting for your lives in one way or another, so of course he was… leaner and more fit back then. It was never something he paid attention to, though, never something he concerned himself with.

But now you three were living here, surrounded by more people than Joel could count, and he couldn’t help but… notice things about them.

Especially about all those men and women who looked at you in a different way.

Due to the nature of the party Tommy invited them to – mainly consisting of dancing and talking in the biggest bar in Jackson – Joel had a lot of time to ponder about his situation, all while nursing his drink and looking at you from across the room with his elbows resting on the table.

You were chatting with one of your friends near the counter, laughing and smiling so beautifully. No matter where Joel’s eyes strayed, they always came back to your person, as if you were the moon against the pitch black sky, reflecting some imperceptible light.

Some guy he knew by sight – Chuck? Bart? – walked up and tapped you on the shoulder, and from what Joel could tell, he was offering you a drink. He was standing way too close, though, and you took a step closer to your friend, shaking your head. Chuck – or Bart – persisted for another half a minute, but eventually shrugged and shuffled off, his movements tense.

Joel didn’t move. He knew from experience that you’d let him know if you needed his help.

As if sensing his gaze, you turned your head and sent him a radiant smile. He mirrored it, lifting his glass slightly like he was toasting you, which made you do the same before resuming the conversation with your friend.

His smile disappeared as soon as you stopped looking at him. Joel sighed and rubbed his eyes with his fingers, feeling a headache coming from the dull lights and loud chatter all around.

It were moments like this when it hit him just how old he was compared to you.

You were a sweet, young thing. Funny, sharp, drop-dead gorgeous… No wonder some people were seeking your attention. That guy was just one of the half a dozen he saw or heard about since you moved to Jackson.

Joel knew you were a loyal sort – God, he knew that, he knew you for so long now – but every time he saw you talking to someone else, his treacherous mind started to wonder if he wasn’t somehow keeping you chained to his person.

It was probably alcohol talking, but Lord, if he wasn’t reminded of how old he was compared to you every time he saw you next to your peers. You still had so much life ahead of you, and he was pushing sixty, for fuck’s sake. Before long he’ll be old and decrepit, unable to bring something useful to the table or help you in any way, and you’d still be as pretty as ever, trapped in a relationship with an old man.

For example, that guy – Chuck, or whomever – was way closer to your age, had handsome features, and Joel knew for a fact he was working at tree felling, so he had to be muscular, too.

Joel was once, too. Once.

He subtly ran his hand across his stomach under the jacket, his brows furrowed, and leaned back on the bench to get rid of those damned fat folds.

He sighed and downed the rest of the liquor in his glass, trying very hard not to think about it, not to put himself down like that and let those cruel thoughts fester in his mind, but no matter what, he couldn’t stop comparing himself to this guy, and also… how you looked next to him.

Shit. What if he was doing you more harm than good by continuing to stay with you?

“I could pickpocket you and you wouldn’t notice.”

Joel looked up, abruptly pulled out of his thoughts. You were standing over his table with your head tilted and still that beaming smile on your face.

“What are you thinking about, handsome?”

He opened his mouth, glanced in the direction of the bar, and closed it. There was no sign of any of the people you just talked with.

“Nothin’,” he replied, maybe a little too dryly, so he quickly changed the subject. “You havin’ fun?”

“Yeah, it’s nicer than I thought.” You looked around and then spotted the empty glass on the table in front of him. “Do you want me to bring you another one?”

“No, there’s no need,” he grumbled, but you had already put your drink down and sent him a wink.

“I'll be right back, baby.”

Joel hissed your name but you just looked over your shoulder with a smirk, swinging your hips provocatively to the music and ignoring him completely. He sighed heavily, slumping in his seat.

He needed to get his shit together. Fuck his insecurities, he didn’t want to take his frustration out on you when you were nothing but a ray of sunshine in his life, always so good and affectionate.

Joel’s thoughts came to a sudden stop when he searched for you in the crowd and noticed another man, this time one he didn’t know, swinging his arm over your shoulders while you waited at the bar. He tried to read your body language from here, but you didn’t seem particularly uncomfortable with the man’s actions. Joel furrowed his brows, a pit of uncertainty forming in his stomach again... but then you threw the man’s heavy limb off your shoulders and went back to Joel’s table as soon as you got the drink.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he murmured, taking a large gulp despite telling himself earlier that he was done drinking for today. “Were you okay back there?” He pointed his chin towards the bar.

You sat down next to him and smiled innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”

Joel knew you long enough to recognize when you were teasing him, and he smirked despite the doubts swirling in his mind.

“Was that guy givin’ you any trouble?” he asked lazily, deciding to play along.

“Would you beat the shit out of him if I said yes?” you asked with your eyebrows raised, and Joel shrugged, acting nonchalant.

“Probably.”

You giggled and bumped his shoulder with yours playfully.

“Then no. Peter’s a good guy. Just a little,” you seemed to be looking for the right word, “uhm, persistent.” When Joel sent you a dubious look, you rolled your eyes and made a face. “He’s politely hitting on me, but doesn’t get that I’m not interested. He works at the same place I do.”

“If he keeps makin’ you uncomfortable, that’s not very polite.” You squinted at him and Joel lifted his hands in fake surrender. “M’not sayin’ anythin’. You can take care of yourself, I know that.”

You hummed melodically and glanced at the bar, then back at Joel. Then back at the bar again where that Peter guy stood. Joel noticed you biting the inside of your cheek, so he gently nudged your knee with his.

“What’s on your mind, sweet girl?”

“Maybe you could help me make it clear that I’m taken?” you blurted out quickly, making him crack a smile and chuckle under his breath.

It was so very easy to forget about all the problems in the world when you were there, sitting right next to him and warming his soul and body with your mere presence.

“Come ‘ere,” he breathed and tugged you gently to sit on his lap. You faltered, but he gave your hand another light tug, and finally you let him guide you, putting one arm around his shoulders and making yourself comfortable.

Joel’s hand mindlessly went to rest on your thigh and he rubbed it comfortingly. That Peter guy, as he noted with satisfaction, was staring right back at you, eyeing the way your body was pressed flush against Joel’s with a twisted face.

Once the eyes of the both men met, Joel leaned in and kissed your neck, keeping eye contact the entire time. Peter turned away, taking a large swig from his glass.

Joel felt your muscles relaxing, and you giggled adorably next to his ear at his antics, hiding your neck between your shoulders when he nibbled at your skin lightly. Then your hand covered his, the one lying on your thigh, and stroked his skin lovingly.

Maybe Joel was keeping you chained somehow. Then again, he was but a selfish creature after all. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to ever truly let you go.

*****

The next few days – which then turned into weeks – Joel spent wondering. Mostly about what to do with his predicaments.

He had a couple of them.

The first problem was the nights. They became more difficult since he noticed… details about himself that weren’t there before, and which bothered him more and more with each day.

Joel used to love the nightfall, especially since you all settled in Jackson. In those evening hours no one bothered him, he could finally relax, spend some time alone with you, and later collapse on the bed to get a good-night sleep.

Well, not anymore.

The bedtime unexpectedly became the most stressful one for him. He was so fucking mad at himself, because laying down and having a chance to hold you in his arms was something he treasured for the longest time, but now his own insecurities stood in a way of it.

You loved cuddling and being close to him in your sleep, and Joel was never bothered by it – hell, he initiated those moments more often than not. But now he started noticing more and more how this layer of fat on his stomach moved and looked like when you draped your arm around him or snuggled closer to his chest, and it became all he could think about.

It bothered Joel so much that he started wearing a t-shirt to bed, even though he hated it with all his passion. When you asked about it, he lied that he’s cold, but in reality he was always sweaty by morning. It didn’t seem to make any difference to you, though, and you didn’t shy away from pressing your body close to his, and even slipping your hands under his shirt when you were spooning him. Some days Joel was waking up with you lying on his chest or having your arm slung across his belly, and every time it caused a lump in his throat.

He knew you didn’t mean anything bad by it – for God’s sake, you probably didn’t even have any idea that he had a problem with himself – but what once was a wonderful start of the day, now became a bitter reminder of all those things he was insecure about.

Recently he built a habit of waking up before you – he did it often before, but he always stayed in bed and waited for you to open your eyes, too – and carefully disentangling himself from your embrace. It wasn’t like it didn’t feel wonderful to be enveloped by you in this way, but once he stirred awake, lying still was a herculean task. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, his skin was itching and buzzing, he was sweating from nerves and a lot of horrible, self-depriving thoughts were flooding his mind.

So once he woke up, he’d go take a shower, trying to be a little bit louder than necessary in hopes that you’d already be awake when he gets back – so that he wouldn’t feel so guilty about not laying back down next to you.

The second of his problems was that you began to watch him more closely.

He didn’t know when it started happening, but in hindsight he realized it was just a matter of time – he was acting weird, after all, and you knew him too well not to notice anything.

A couple of times in the last few days only, Joel caught you staring at him in silence. Your eyes were solemn and your forehead sad, though you were quick to smile and act like nothing was amiss as soon as he turned your way.

You must have known something was wrong, but Joel didn’t ask about it. Honestly, with all that was happening in his own head, he didn’t want to know.

But at the same time it was as if nothing odd was happening. You were your usual self, a blessing in Joel’s life, and you still sought to be close to him and spend as much time together as possible. You still told him you loved him, surprised him with unexpected gestures of affection…

Just like today – you hugged him from behind while he was dressing up, started kissing his shoulders so tenderly and murmuring sweet nothings into his skin… In those moments Joel could almost forget about everything that was nagging him. It was easy to believe that you still liked the way he looked, that he was deserving of you, when you treated him with nothing but overwhelming love.

But the itch in the back of his mind never really disappeared. Even though he wanted it to.

Those thoughts filled his mind while you were sitting on his lap, telling him some story from work in a soft voice. You two were at Tommy’s, waiting for him to get back from helping his wife with something, and the day was so beautiful that you all went out onto the patio in front of the house to enjoy the unusually warm weather for this time of the year.

Joel’s hand was on your thigh, stroking it absentmindedly, while he nodded to whatever you were saying, but for the life of him, he could not focus.

Has your physique changed as well? Joel didn’t care about those things, of course, and in his eyes you were as breathtaking as ever – maybe even more, since so many of your worries disappeared and he got to see your smile more often. And you still felt perfect under his hands when he was holding you at night, still looked like a goddess every time he got to admire your naked body.

But even though he wouldn’t have cared either way if you gained some weight or looked any different, his body still bothered him.

You rested your head on his shoulder, and Joel fixed his attention to the wind-blown tree crowns in the distance.

Maybe he should start exercising.

Joel never liked the idea of waking up early and running down the streets in a sweat-soaked t-shirt, or going to the gym where everyone seems to stare and judge you, but it was never necessary.

With how much traveling, heavy-lifting and working he had to do, he never concerned himself with the way he looked. Hell, these things are the last on your mind when you’re fighting for your life in this god-forsaken world. But here, in Jackson, it was different. Life was good, and you were happy. And as stupid as it sounded for him, Joel wanted to look good for you.

Maybe he should ask Maria to assign him to extra patrols. He already volunteered for the morning ones, but perhaps…

“You’re quiet.”

Joel didn’t realize you stopped telling your story. He pressed his lips together and his hand on your thigh stilled.

“Sorry.”

“No need for that,” you reassured him quickly. Then you cupped his cheeks and lifted his head gently. “I don’t mean ‘now’, though, I mean… lately, in general.” Your eyes were flickering across his face, like you were hoping to read the answer from his features. “Is there something you wanna talk about?”

No. Hell no. It was bad enough that Joel himself was aware of his issue, he didn’t want to make it even more noticeable by pointing it out to you.

Which reminded him – he moved his torso away from you only a few millimeters.

“No, babygirl,” he answered. He brushed some hair behind your ear, smiling softly even though inside he despised himself for lying to you. “Everythin’s fine.”

You didn’t seem convinced and still were studying his face with concern. Joel resumed petting your thigh, wanting to put you at ease. He could worry about himself, but he didn’t need to concern you with his problems, too.

“I promise,” he added. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

That look in your eyes didn’t disappear, but you hummed and dropped your hands. It didn’t take a genius to know you didn’t believe him.

“If you say so,” you answered at last, and then covered his hand on your leg with your own. “But remember you can talk to me whenever you want. About anything.”

Jesus, your kindness was only confirming his concerns if he was the right person for you. Joel shook his head with a crooked smile.

“You’re gettin’ sappy.”

“It’s because I’m worried,” you shot back without skipping a beat, swatting at his chest with the back of your hand. “And you’re not making it any easier.”

“There’s nothin’ for you to worry about,” he repeated, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. But he failed.

You pressed your lips together and then made a move to get up from his lap without a word. Joel held onto you delicately, not letting you stand up.

“Wait, darlin’,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “Didn’t mean to say it that way. I just… feel tired. Sorry.”

Your eyes softened when you took in the regret and weariness on his face. Joel felt your fingertips on his jaw, but before you could question him further, Tommy returned from the inside of the house with a grin.

“Age is a heavy burden, eh, ol’ dog?” he teased, apparently having heard the last bit of their conversation. The younger Miller placed three bottles of beer on the table, and winked at you. “That’s just how it is for us now. Enjoy your youth while you still can, punk.”

Joel felt a sharp jab in his ribs, not unlike being stabbed. He couldn’t find it in himself to look at his brother, less alone laugh at his teasing.

Of course Tommy didn’t mean anything bad by it, but his words were just a bitter reminder of the ever-present pit of Joel’s stomach.

The weight of you on his lap suddenly felt a lot lighter, and he himself felt so, so very heavy and tired.

Old.

Joel could feel your eyes boring into his face, but a second later you turned to Tommy, taking the burden of filling the uncomfortable silence.

“It’s already started for me. Sometimes I feel like my bones want to kill me prematurely.”

“M’sure Joel won’t let that happen. He’d fight your skeleton if you said it’s botherin’ you.”

You snorted and shook your head, but your smile faltered when you turned to Joel again. He almost broke down right then and there from the guilt and tightness in his chest.

And the dark feeling inside him just grew when your eyes stayed sad and concerned for the rest of the day.

*****

It had to end.

Joel could no longer pretend everything was alright like he wasn’t dying on the inside every time you did as much as hold his hand. He felt horrible about lying, avoiding spending time together and denying you affection he knew you so loved receiving.

If he was being honest with himself, he wanted this affection, too. Undisturbed with self-doubts and guilt.

He fucking craved it.

Those last few weeks, his evenings were mostly spent away from you and the warmth of your shared home. The nights, on the other hand, when he would sneak in and quietly lay down next to you (but just a little further away), became full of intrusive thoughts and wallowing in self-loathing.

No matter what excuse he came up with, you were persistent in holding and being close to him during the night, and Joel discovered that the only way to prevent you from doing it was to come to bed after you’ve already fallen asleep.

But it was a damn torture.

The worst part was when he was coming home to the sight of you lying amongst the tangled sheets and blankets in his bed. No matter if you were drooling or a pillow has imprinted itself on your cheek, every time this sight made Joel weak in the knees. You looked like a gorgeous, priceless painting, and it pained him to disrupt your rest with his arrival.

He tried to volunteer for evening patrols, because then he’d have a real reason to come home late, but not only Maria didn’t want to pair him with anyone during those hours – she also suspended him from all patrols whatsoever. Joel was understandably furious, but the damn woman threatened to tell Tommy about it if he kept being ‘a stubborn pain in her ass’. She sent him back home, murmuring something about spending more time with you, which he tried to pretend he hadn’t heard.

Joel sighed, sitting up on the edge of the bed and hiding his face in his hand.

If Maria of all people could see that there were some problems in your and Joel’s relationship, then you had to notice, too.

Christ, he was the worst.

Joel didn’t want to push you away, of course not. He wanted to stay with you more than anything, but that desire did nothing to diminish the guilt suffocating him. For some time, he felt like the luckiest man alive, having the privilege to call you his and every day come home to you. But now with all those little things he started to notice, he felt like a fraud.

It wasn’t even about him not deserving you anymore – it was that you didn’t deserve this fucking treatment he was giving you these past few weeks.

Fuck, he had to tell you the truth. About the patrols, sneaking out, distancing himself, all of it. He couldn’t bear lying to you a day longer.

Joel stood up and pulled his sweaty t-shirt over his head. He wrinkled his nose at the smell and patted himself under his armpits and on the back, then reached for a clean one.

He’ll figure it out. He just needed some time to come up with a way to–

“Morning, handsome.”

Joel flinched and turned around quickly, not having realized you were awake, but whatever excuse he had in mind, it fell dead on his lips.

You stretched with a groan, reaching one arm high above your head and rubbing your eyes with the other hand. A sleepy smile danced on your lips when you looked back at him with sparkles in your slightly puffy eyes, and Joel didn’t have any other word to describe you than ‘ethereal’.

“What are you doing?” you asked groggily, relaxing against the pillow and looking him up and down.

“Uhmm…” he hesitated, clutching the t-shirt that was in need of washing close to his chest. His gaze was drawn to the window. “Goin’ out, actually. I’ve got some work…”

“No, you don’t,” you interrupted him and swung off the covers from his side of the bed. “Get back here.”

Joel looked at you with surprise.

“What?”

“You heard me, Miller. Get your ass back on the bed.”

He crumpled the shirt in his hands, hesitating, but his eyes softened as soon as he looked back at you and your raised eyebrows – like you were challenging him to just try and refuse you.

But how could he, when you looked so pretty lying in his bed and demanding to have him close to you? How could he ever deny you anything?

With a defeated sigh, Joel started putting the t-shirt back on, but the sound of you humming in protest stopped him. Your face was grumpy when he glanced up.

“Nah. No shirt.” You extended your hand in his direction, making a grabbing motion. “Come here.”

Joel didn’t move. “Why?”

You rolled your eyes and dramatically flopped down onto the pillows, looking up at him with an adorable pout.

“Because it’s been a long time since I got a chance to admire my handsome, sexy man,” you answered with sincerity, and then grinned. “Now come here. If you ditch your shirt, I’ll consider ditching mine.”

He still didn’t move. You were patient, but when it became clear that he wasn’t going to do anything, you sent him a small, sweet smile. “If you get cold again, I promise to do something about it, love.”

Joel physically felt his heart softening at your words and at the sight of you.

With a silent sigh – and only a split second of hesitation – he took off the t-shirt and quickly laid down on his back next to you. He felt a bile rise in his throat, though he had no idea why, and it became almost choking when you shifted closer to him, putting one hand on his chest.

“You’ve deprived me of this beautiful view for too long,” you whispered, kissing the place below his collarbone, and then going up to the base of his neck. “I missed seeing you like this.”

“There’s nothin’ to miss,” Joel muttered, not moving a single muscle. He had his hands entwined on his stomach and to look in your direction was the biggest effort anyone could demand from him now. “We sleep next to each other every night, sweetheart.”

“You know what I mean,” you breathed into his neck, leaving love bites wherever your lips strayed. “You’re going out so early these days. And you work late.”

“Patrols,” Joel grunted with gritted teeth, his muscles tense and breathing ragged as your warm palm caressed his waist. “Sorry.”

“You work too hard, love.” You sat up and swung one of your legs over his lap. Joel actually shivered when you took his hands in your own and placed them on your hips. “Let me help you relax.”

Oh, fuck.

Jesus fucking Christ, Joel was sure he was going to drop dead at any second now.

“Darlin’…” he began, but you made a noise in your throat and leaned in to kiss him deeply, pressing your body to his. Joel loved when you initiated those moments between you two, and you looked so fucking hot sitting on top of him – but for the life of him, he could not relax.

“It hits me every once in a while how lucky I am to have you,” you whispered in such a sweet, adoring voice, like you didn’t hear him. You pressed your lips against his stubble again, igniting every inch of his skin with your touch. “Let me enjoy you. I love you so much, you know that?”

“I…”

I love you, too.

Lord, he loved you so much. Why was it so hard to return your affections, then? Why did he feel like the biggest crook by letting you love him?

Joel let out a shuddering sigh he didn’t know he was holding when you pressed your lips to the edge of his jaw, before capturing his mouth in a kiss. It was sweet, but heated at the same time and, without even thinking about it, he found himself wrapping his strong arms around you, bringing you closer to his chest. You smiled against his lips and murmured something he didn’t quite catch.

A groan escaped him when you bit his lower lip lightly, your soft palm going down, from his chest, to his stomach, down…

He couldn’t do it.

Joel abruptly rose to the sitting position and grabbed your wrist, his eyes sad and painful.

“I’m sorry, baby” he said with furrowed brows, gently setting you aside and off his lap, before standing up quickly. “I’m so sorry, babygirl, I love you, I promise, but I can’t… I don’t feel good today. I’m sorry.”

“Joel…” you started, but he shook his head, putting his t-shirt back on and turning away from you not to let you see the absolute wrecked expression on his face and wetness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he kept saying, feeling like he’s about to throw up from the nerves and the burning shame. He cursed himself internally, wanting to turn around, to take your face in his hands and kiss you deeply, but he… he... “I’m so…”

All strength left him in a blink of an eye and suddenly he slumped on the bed, hiding his face in his hands. Joel desperately tried to get a grip on himself, but his chest felt so tight, and all the worry, all the guilt and fear, and self-loathing came crashing down on him all at once.

“M’sorry, darlin’,” he whispered hoarsely, his lips trembling and that damn muscle in his cheek pulsing when he felt the mattress dipping and your tentative touch on his face.

“No, no, baby, it’s alright,” you started saying quietly, trying to take his cheeks in your hands, but he didn’t let you. “Oh, Joel… Come here.”

You gently pulled him into your arms, guiding his head to rest in the crook of your neck. Joel hid his face in your skin, realizing with dread that his own shoulders were shaking.

For God’s sake, he needed to stop, he needed to put himself together and not show any weakness–

But it was you. It was your warm embrace and your loving hands brushing his hair, and your quiet whispers while you held him. It was your kindness and understanding, and stubbornness coming from love. You weren’t someone he had to hide from.

So he let you in. He let you hold him.

“Joel, please. Talk to me,” you spoke up after some time, and though your tone was soft, it somehow sounded too loud in the silence of the room. “I need to know what’s going on with you, you’re worrying me.”

“Nothin’ is goin’ on,” he answered out of habit, not even moving a muscle. “I just… fuck, sorry.”

“Stop apologizing and talk to me.” Joel pursed his lips, while you massaged his back gently. “Whatever it is, we’re gonna get through it together, okay? It’s gonna be okay, love, I promise.”

He planned on telling you. He wanted to tell you and get it off his chest, but… he wasn’t ready. Not now. Not when he broke down in front of you, for fuck’s sake.

But you deserved to know. If not to help him, then at least to make you aware of what you’ve gotten yourself into. It wasn’t fair to keep you in the dark and at arm’s length because of his absurd fears.

He wetted his lips and inhaled softly, but no words came out.

You gently lifted his head and Joel immediately squeezed his eyes shut, knowing there was no way he’d be able to say anything if he looked at you.

“You can tell me, baby,” you whispered sadly, touching the side of his face. “Anything. I promise everything will be alright.”

Joel was silent for a couple of moments, before he swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to calm down his pounding heart.

“I don’t have any extra work,” he started very quietly, so his voice wouldn’t break. “I was lyin’ to you, and I… I’m so sorry about that. I don’t get sent on any patrols now, actually…”

He shook his head and sighed heavily, faltering. He knew that wasn’t the problem, and although lying to you was one of the things he was guilty of, it wasn’t what started all of it. And you must’ve known it, too, because you kept looking at him, not saying anything.

“The thin’ is, I… God dammit,” he murmured, turning his head away from you and hiding his face in his hands, still keeping his eyes closed. “I can’t… I don’t– I have a problem with myself,” he finally blurted out, not even caring now if you understood his muffled words. “I keep…”

Fuck, man, just say it.

“I’m… I’m not as fit as I used to be,” he murmured, not moving an inch in fear that you’ll spot the wetness on his eyelashes. “I don’t want to do you harm, darlin’, keepin’ you from… Jesus, I don’t know. From livin’ your life, happily and to the fullest.”

“Joel…” You whispered with pain in your voice. “Is this what it is about?”

Joel shook his head, letting out a shuddering breath, still as quietly as he could.

“I’m old,” he said with tiredness he didn’t know he had in himself. “And you… You’re so pretty and young, I…” He lowered his forehead onto his hand, rubbing his temple. “I would like nothin’ more than to spend the rest of my life with you, darlin’. But I’m afraid I’m not… not good for you. You could do so much better–”

“Hey. Hey, none of that.” You forced his hands away from his face by cradling it in your own palms. “There’s no one else I’d rather share my days with.”

Joel just shut his eyes tighter, trying to contain the tears that started to gather in them.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered. “But in a couple of years I’ll be… God, I’ll be fuckin’ sixty, and you–”

“Do you really think I care about that?” you asked softly, brushing your thumbs under his eyes, but he shook his head, like you didn’t understand. “Joel, I love you more than anything in this world. And I know you love me.” He heard the faintest smile in your voice, and it made him feel so, so terrible with himself – that you were trying to make him feel better when you shouldn’t have, he shouldn’t have been another one of your worries… “So where’s the problem? I want to be with you. Only you.”

Joel pressed his lips together and before he could stop himself, he draped his arms over his lap, like he was trying to hide the evidence of his insecurities from you, even though his torso was already covered by the t-shirt.

“You’re young and beautiful,” he repeated, still unable to find strength in himself to look you in the eye. “And I’m anythin’ but. I just don’t wanna…”

Joel didn’t know what else to say.

He didn’t want you to leave. He didn’t want to spend another night apart from you. He didn’t want to push you away.

“Just don’t want you to be unhappy,” he finally murmured.

You let out something between a short chuckle and a stifled sob, and your fingers found Joel’s, still wrapped around his stomach.

“Do I look unhappy to you?” you asked, almost in disbelief. Joel finally willed himself to glance at you, if only to see for himself – which turned out to be a mistake. Your eyes were sad and teary, but not full of hurt or distaste like he feared, and you still had this faint smile on your face. He quickly turned his head away and you must’ve realized how you looked because your hold on his fingers tightened slightly. “Not right now. In general, did I ever do something to make you think I’m not happy with you?”

“No,” he answered quietly, not even having to think about it. “But it doesn’t…”

“I told you before, how can I even look at anyone else when I have you?” you spoke up when he faltered. “You’re beautiful to me, Joel, even if you don’t believe me right now. You’re amazing and kind, you’re fucking hot, and yeah, maybe you’re stubborn at times, but I love you so much, and every day I find another reason to fall for you all over again.”

Joel met your eyes again, looking for any hesitation or deceit – but he didn’t find any. As always, you were sincere in everything you said.

He realized, with another wave of tears threatening to roll down his cheeks, how much he missed your affection that he alone deprived himself from. How much he longed for this intimacy that once came so easily to him.

“M’sorry,” he muttered at last, lifting his hand to your face and trying to ignore those damn tears spilling from behind his eyelids. “Never doubted you, babygirl, but I just didn’t know how… how to tell you.”

“It’s okay, Joel,” you nuzzled your cheek into his palm, planting a kiss on the inside of his hand. “It’s alright, c’mon here.”

Not letting go of his hand, you tugged him gently and leaned back on the pillows. With great effort he refrained from fighting you, and instead let you pull him down, laying his head on your chest.

And in an instant, everything was alright again. The moment Joel heard your heartbeat under his ear and felt your gentle hands on the nape of his neck and his back… it was like coming home. This feeling of warmth spreading across his limbs made him feel safe for the first time in weeks.

It was so long since he fully let you hold him.

Maybe that’s what he’s been missing.

“I adore you, Joel Miller,” you whispered into the top of his head, holding him close to your heart. “All of you, and just the way you are.”

Joel couldn’t help it – a small smile crept onto his lips.

“Called it,” he murmured. “You’re gettin’ sappy.”

You snorted and kissed his hairline. “I think you need it, handsome.”

“Maybe I do,” he conceded, not moving his head from your chest, and sighed tiredly. “Dammit, missed holdin’ you like this, babygirl. M’so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you countered, but he continued.

“I just didn’t know how to talk about it… How to tell you that I feel bad. About… the way I look.”

Joel felt your hands on his cheeks, and although he really didn’t want to move from the position he was in, he let you lift his head.

“I love the way you look,” you said quietly, in a tone that made Joel’s old heart flutter. “And our bodies change, there’s nothing wrong with that. If anything, I’m really happy that both of us can enjoy this kind of life.” You leaned in and nudged Joel’s nose with yours, closing your eyes. “Every change of our bodies is a sign that we’re finally safe after all we’ve been through. 

“But you look gorgeous as ever, sweet girl.”

“M’glad to hear it, Mr Miller,” you teased, but then your smile turned wistful. “But you know, I was insecure about my looks, too, not sure if you noticed. My stomach and thighs, and,” you rolled your eyes, “well, my butt.”

Normally Joel would throw a playful remark, or try to make you giggle, but this time he stayed silent. He just listened to your soft voice, drinking in your features.

“It worried me for some time. But you still put your hand on my leg when I was sitting with you, and you never shied away from telling and showing me,” you stressed this word, a teasing note in your tone, “how much you like my body.”

“‘Course I do,” he murmured quietly, lifting himself on his elbows and leaning over you despite your huffs and efforts to keep him in place.

“So I thought that maybe you didn’t care about this extra weight, or even didn’t–”

The rest of your words were swallowed by Joel’s lips when he kissed you deeply and hungrily. So many strong emotions were swirling inside his chest, he didn’t know anymore what to do with himself. At first you tried to continue your train of thought, but soon gave up, erupting into giggles when Joel latched his lips onto your neck and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to bring you in even closer.

“I didn’t care,” he was whispering into your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. “I don’t.”

“Then you see– Joel, stop it!” You squealed when he carried on with his assault, not giving you a second to gather your thoughts.

“M’so lucky to have you,” he whispered while peppering your face in soft kisses. “Thank you, babygirl.”

You finally managed to free your arms, and you cupped his face in your hands with a huge grin that Joel decided he wanted to see every day. Another adorable giggle escaped you when he snuggled his scratchy cheek into your palm.

“I know it will take time,” you said gently, but firmly, looking deep into his eyes. “But no matter how long it’ll take, I will make you understand how incredibly attracted I am to you.” Joel hung his head low to hide a bashful snigger, and your smile grew. “Understand?”

“Yeah, yeah. Understood, ma’am.”

“Good.” You pulled him closer to plant a slow kiss on his lips, and asked seductively: “I can start right now, if you’d want to. I don’t want my handsome man to feel insecure about any part of him.”

God, he loved you so much.

Joel hid his face in the crook of your neck again, his heart squeezing with adoration and disbelief at how it came that he’d been blessed with someone like you.

“Y’know what, sweetheart? I think it’d do me good.”

[2-dsimp]

A/n: hey yall this is my first ever yandere collab that I did with my dear mutual @yandere-dreams-but-not-really and I’ve never knew how much fun it’d be collabing with others until I did so with them ＜3

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:

Yandere company Bros

The eldest brother

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆

→ CW: Yandere tendencies, unhealthy coping methods, obsessive/possessive behavior, Judas needs a hug, internal company conflict

Synopsis: 【You were a new intern for hire at the grand Acer international company ran by the Kinzen family. And you stood out amongst your colleagues by being capable, ambitious, and dedicated to the craft! All the qualities of a true corporate slave which may have attracted some unheeded attention from the future inheritors of said company itself. Ultimately you ended up getting sucked into an internal family succession battle between the youngest and the eldest brother…Let’s just hope you make it out in ONE PIECE.】

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:

【Eldest brother! Judas was never the type to believe in love at first sight. Despite his father always ranting on about how he fell for his strict mother at first glance. He never truly understood what it meant to feel a romantic love for someone. Throughout his highscool and college years he’s never had a crush or been in a relationship for that matter.】

【But all his reservations went out the window when he saw you, a well put together newbie walking past the doors of the well established business owned by him and his family. Encompassing an essence that of a fresh summer breeze which completely disarmed him.】

【Truly he thought he worked himself to death and was blessed with the sight of an angel who came down to take him away from his mundane life. Of being in his mother, Isidore’s shadow as a prominent businesswoman. Known across the world for her cutthroat business conduct.】

【Eldest brother! Judas was at a loss for words as you stepped up to him with those bright attentive eyes. And offered to help take on the loaded stacks of papers he was lugging into his office with an altruistic smile. The fact that he knew you didn’t know who he was at that time and was this naturally sweet. As opposed to everyone else who usually try coming to his aide with ulterior motives】

【Made His motherfucking heart grip at the enclosure of his rib cage at how you just politely interjected yourself in his space to go ahead and take half of his work load off of him. while he was stunned stupid too flabbergasted to even utter a sentence.】

【This socially stunted stoic man was trying his best to keep his mind afloat as he’s never been affected by such intense emotions before in his 23 years of living. He didn’t know how to act as he tended to isolate himself from his peers. In turn for studying business till his nose bled and working himself up the corporate food chain.】

【Eldest brother! Judas resembled that of a black cat who was looking in pure awe of his new fixation which wasn’t work or studying. His pristine appearance was now unkept with hairs falling flat in his face from how caught off guard he was. Finding himself mindlessly trailing after the new bubbly intern in long strides.】

【When yall reached his office he struggled to find the words to thank you. But his haywire brain opted to abruptly encase your hand in his and bring it towards his bleeding heart. as he gave you what seemed to be a death stare inherited from his mother but in reality was an expression full of gratitude, obsession, and adoration.】

【Congratulations you’ve unknowingly seduced the eldest heir of the Kinzen family. And there’s no take backsies.】

【Eldest brother!Judas is the type to be more or less clingy with his darling. Always calling them to his office to ask for “help” on some assignments. which caused onlookers to give him surprised exchanges. Since the famed hermit workaholic never came out of his dumpster fire of an office to request help of any kind.】

【He just loves seeing you breathe in his general direction. It makes him impulsively grip at the sides of ball pen till it damn near snapped in two. From how His heart is was overflowing with so much pure and genuine infatuation for you.】

【The eldest Kinzen was a ticking time bomb since he always kept everything little thing bottled up inside and never had anyone to confide to unlike his youngest brother Dexter who was a social troglodyte.】

【So as time progresses Judas spends each and every waking moment fantasizing. About what it would be to show you all the admiration that he feels for you. To convey how you’ve turned his world upside down and to emphasize how utterly precious you’d be underneath him due to size difference ahem his management. Working alongside him as his lovely equal/assistant manager.】

【Only one strand of restraint was holding him back from pouncing on you as if he had no good sense. But it was waning with how his meddlesome brother Dexter kept interfering with y’all’s pleasant time together.】

【Eventhough he may have been born with a diamond spoon he was never the one to indulge in it. Not that he could since his mother Isidore was a hard fashioned woman with a strict traditional upbringing. She instilled in her sons that what you earn is what you keep and how there was nothing such as free handouts in the world.】

【And yet since he was the eldest, Isidore made sure to remind him how it was his responsibility to steer his brother in the right direction. Taking her words to heart he always made an effort to accommodate his brother to an extent.】

【In their childhood days whatever Dexter wanted something from Judas. The eldest willingly gave in to him since he could be fussy if he didn’t get what he wanted. But once he noticed the eyes Dexter made at you whilist making you laugh from his charm.】

【Something snapped inside Judas. He didn’t like the way Dexter was trying to put dibs on you in his subtle hand placement on your waist. He despised how happy you sounded from the half baked jokes of the Youngest. He hated how easy it was for Dexter to strike up a conversation with you and be in your general presence without need for work excuses.】

【Don’t look at his brother look at him sure he may not have the best social ques or a way with words but he’ll treat you right. Judas will take care of you as if you were a queen to the throne of his heart.】

“I’ll be good, I’ll be perfect just for you… All I want is for you to look at me, focus only on me, Please don’t look elsewhere with those eyes of yours. I just wanna be yours. So choose me, not him.”

【He’d seldom show you in the most intense ways possible, the depraved man he’s become. Falling weak to his needs to hug you, to kiss you, to embrace you, to show you all the love that he can possibly show you. Within his iron grasp since you’re the one thing that he’ll never give up to his youngest sibling no matter how much tries to tempt you away from him.】

[sparklingcid3r]

I promised a rumble rundown, so that’s what I’m gonna do. Let’s go🙏 also here's the yt vid i used lol

0:14-0:17

Paul says, “Hello, Darrel. Long time, no see” and then immediately starts checking him out with that upside down smile, ik what u think abt 👁️👁️

0:24-0:27

“I’ll take you” yeah Paul I’m sure u will 🙄 Darry’s cold af w the staredown tho, it’s unfortunate that Pony and Soda have do a full head turn to look at each other like “IKKK he ain’t j said that”

0:27-0:31

DALLAS MY GLORIOUS KING ARRIVES,, shirtless??? And the crowd goes mild‼️ Pony also gets popped in the face and down he goes, it was so good that he was here for just a little bit, everyone say bye now bc the next time he shows up in the fight u won’t even know it’s him I’m deadass

0:48-0:55

Soda is ripping into this guy right, my baby’s a champion!! And then gets up and kinda… walks past Steve getting his ass beat lmao. He even puts his hand on Steve’s shoulder to steady himself as he goes by😭

He just misses the mean double gut punch Steve tanks like the unit he is, because Steve GRABS THIS MAN’S PUNCH and RIPS one across his face, it was beautiful. Masterclass in the ring I’m afraid

0:56-0:58

Okay. I need to give yall the play by play for this single two-second sequence because it was genuinely the greatest clip of cinema I’ve ever seen in my life.

Paul’s got Darry out of frame and he’s confident, dare I say cocky. He’s doing the universal hand signals for “Cmon, hit me bro.”

And I’m gonna say this next part softly. Lean in and listen to me:

When I tell u that Darry clocks Paul in the face, I don’t mean he just clocks Paul in the face. Darry rises like a phoenix from the ashes and swings so hard that everyone around him can feel the aftershocks. Paul has just experienced the equivalent of a steel boxing glove to the dome. Teeth are flying. Paul will have no recollection of this moment for the rest of his life. Take a look at this.

Alr now we back up because YOU CAN SEEEE THE MOMENT OF REALIZATION. This man starts BAILING. The minute Darry spins back, Paul’s got bug eyes, all “Hold up. Wait a minute. He really ‘bout to clock my shit.” He did not want that smoke NEARLY as much as he thought he did, and ykw? I don’t blame him 🤷‍♀️ 

Letting yall know that I had to go back and slow down the playback speed so that I could bask in the glory that is Darrel Curtis’s behemoth of a punch. Geologists are losing their minds wondering how volcanoes are erupting and mountains are shifting, unaware of what just happened in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

1:00-1:03

Dally bitch slapping a dude is a great way to kick off the one-minute mark, and a good kick to the ribs just for funsies ig. U go girl🫶

1:04-1:07

Hottest Two-Bit has ever looked sorry

1:19-1:21

Alr Dally is literally picking people up and WWE rocking their shit as he slams them to the ground. That kid was dropped neck first. How did Pony not have to write a sequel.

1:22-1:24

Just an entire sequence dedicated to Soda mewing even as he gets bitched in the face. It’s alr tho, he got his get back

1:47-1:49

Istg I’m not tripping, u listen and u can hear Pony screaming for Darry yall I thought this was supposed to be a good time, I’m actually sobbing

1:55-2:01

STEVE CLUTCHES UP??? DEADASSSS that was the CLEANEST three-shot KO I’ve ever seen, then he body flips the guy behind him??? I WASN’T FAMILIAR W UR GAME, RANDLE 🙏

2:09-2:15

The Socs are kind of getting ready to retreat at this point but rq we gotta check in on the exes, Paul’s getting clowned on again lmfao.

This man tried to kick Darry, then when Darry’s got his foot and is getting ready to spin him like that pigskin, he’s PULLING on Darry’s HAIR??? Man, just leave 😭 ur cooked. And the last time we see him, he’s CRAWLING AWAY😭😭 at least STAND UP

2:24-2:27

Pony’s getting washed in a 6v1 it ain’t his fault this time, bless up. Luckily my goat Darrel Shaynne Curtis Jr. pulls up and literally starts throwing bodies. Absolutely spectacular that I get to live in the same lifetime as this movie.

2:30-2:32

Darry’s asking, “Ponyboy, you okay?” and some NOBODY tries to grab Darry’s shoulders. Who do u think u are???

3:35-3:45

Greasers get the W👏

So in conclusion I think we can all agree that if u are locked in an iso with Darry, just offer up ur cheek and get it over w. Ur not getting the dub. Roll down ur sleeves and go home, ur benched.

Sorry this is messy af, I'm just having fun rn LMFAO

[cultpastorkevin]

Cult Tips for AFTG writers

notes from the resident ex-cult pastor

If you’re in the cult, there is nothing bizarre abt what’s happening and in fact the normal stuff that happens outside of it is what’s bizarre to you. Target? Weird. McDonald’s? Even weirder. I can like guarantee Jean and Kevin never had McDonald’s until they left the Nest.

When you leave, you’re gonna be paranoid as fuck. All the time. Ngl at least for weeks but sometimes for years. Nightmares and insomnia 24/7. Hallucinations too lmao Riko is in every corner of empty rooms and you can hear his voice echo in the confines of the lockers.

I see a lot of Jean wanting to go back to the Nest, but not a lot of Kevin wanting to go back. He definitely struggled, 100%. In fact when he was in the pits of agony from his broken hand, was when he probably wanted to go back the most. Cult is home, cult is safe. Four walls you’ve always known and while it’s a cage at least it’s dependable. They hurt you but by god it always works out and the reward of pushing through this tragic incident is greater than the terror it caused in the first place. It’s a gift, actually. A gift from Riko. He saved Kevin. Cults save you. Cults make you wanna return to them like damn homing pigeons bruh. Give me more shattered hand Kevin screaming at Wymack to let him go back home and having a breakdown when he’s denied fics thanks

Piggybacking off the last one: cults are saviors; you’re nothing without them and they make sure you truly believe that; that everything that is done to you is for you and you’re blessed for it to be happening. You’re lucky even, to be allowed in it. Everything is as it’s supposed to be and order must never be challenged, because it works, and you’re the Edgar Allan Ravens, and this is the most honorable place you could be. All the pain you go through is you earning the right to be saved and to prove your worth every day on court. Only the worthy are honored.

You justify everything that happened and you will start fights and get angry with people who try to correct you and tell you it was wrong what went on.

On the other hand, you blame yourself for everything ever that happened there whether you were at fault or not. Hurting others, hurting yourself, gaslighting the fuck out of yourself over things maybe you could’ve prevented and over things you never could’ve stopped. The guilt is crippling and it eats you alive and haunts you.

There’s a lot of shame too. I see more guilt written than shame but shame is a huge portion of emotions that cult survivors have. Shits embarassing dude like “god how did I end up thinking this wack ass shit was normal” 😐 Shame comes later in the healing process usually, it’s after you have come to terms with shit that’s happened and you understand it. Looking back, you go “Jesus fucking Christ that was a red flag what the hell. Should’ve left then, or then, or then, or then” and then you’re just plain fuckin embarrassed.

Please look up how hive minds and brainwashing are created and work; also Stockholm Syndrome; understanding these would be incredibly helpful tbfh.

Diets are big; everyone eats the same thing; food is used as a reward and a punishment.

Hype hype hype. They whip up a frenzy of one singular emotion and use that to push you into a blind hysteria because you’re more suspectible to their influence when you’re out of your mind.

Drugs. Depends on the cult. But yeah these little bitches can be a huge factor for shit and can help with the brainwashing and hysteria and stockholm. Sometimes you don’t even know you’re being drugged or poisoned until you leave.

OH I ALMOST FORGOT. Dehumanization and then being treated like a person again can be traumatic as fuck yall!! Holy shit! Sometimes it feels worse than being dehumanized!

EDIT AGAIN: you don’t know what mental illness is !! Cults don’t fucking tell you these things lmao. if you show symptoms it’s your fault. Kevin being depressed his mom died was gonna get blamed on him and he was never going to be told grief is normal and it’s okay to be insanely sad. Jean also never got told his anger was correct or his trauma responses to being raped were realistic! They just got blamed for any reactions ever that weren’t neurotypical !! that is all; do with that what you will.

Idk if I think of anything else I’ll write another one but that’s all for now; I haven’t slept much lmao 🫡

[unstoppableforcce]

bad dreams

PART ONE: some people are ghosts before they are dead.  pairing: jake "hangman" seresin x f!reader next part a/n: it's been two years! the words don't come as easily anymore but i'm still trying! i hope yall enjoy!!!

Sometimes a drink isn’t just a drink. 

Sometimes quiet isn’t quiet enough. 

Sometimes an ache of something — too raw, too familiar — echoes in your gut and leaves you with no choice. 

They’ll never believe you, you remind yourself, sometimes over and over and over again. They’ll never believe you when you say you had no choice. 

But sometimes you just don’t. 

Sometimes the pangs of sadness reverberate so violently through your chest that you shake into a shape that can’t even be termed human. Sometimes the claws of darkness climb up through your throat and speak for you in a voice you don’t recognize. Sometimes your feet move, step after step, carried by a will you don’t know as your own. 

Sometimes you end up at a bar, ordering a drink you hate, and feel your mouth salivating for it as your stomach churns. 

Penny slid the amber-colored liquid across the length of the counter, sloshing the drink up the sides of the tumbler but never past the rim. Her eyes carefully scan up and down your form, and even as you drop your head away from it, you can feel the weight of her concern settling on your shoulders. 

“Haven’t seen you out and about in a minute…” She said as she accepts your card across the counter, as much a statement as it was a question. 

But you didn’t have any answers for her. 

With a brief shrug, you finally looked up to meet her eyes. “I had some leave.”

“Do anything fun?” Bless her heart for asking. 

“No… just caught up on some sleep, that’s all.” 

You could see in the gentle lines creasing on her forehead that you weren’t getting that one by without suspicion, but if she had any plans of stopping you before your first sip, she didn’t show them. She grabbed a bowl of peanuts, set them on the counter in front of you, and gave you one last smile. “Always glad to see you.”

For the first time in a long time, you looked around a cloud of unfamiliar faces and believed her. Maybe you recognized a few buzz cuts here and there, but the majority of the excitement rattling around the old beach shack bar came from groups of sailors you had never seen. There must have been a recall on pilots, surely something you had received a memo about at some point in the last few weeks, but checking your email hadn’t exactly been top priority. 

Turning back to Penny, you pulled your cigarettes from your pocket and offered her what you could manage of a half smile before pulling your drink from the bar and wandering toward the back porch. 

The sun had only just set as you settle into one of the deck chairs out back, thankful that the few pairs wandering around you pay you no more kind than you pay them. It isn’t silent, certainly not as the waves continue to pound the shore line, but it is quieter and that would do for now. 

You manage to take your first sip when a rowdy group of pilot-types begin ascending the back stairs, tripping over themselves to make it out of the sand. You manage another as they quiet themselves down and make it to the back door and another when the tall blonde at the back of the group met your eye with an appraising look. He doesn’t seem to mind when you return the look, in fact, if it were possible with an ego as large as his already seemed to be, he continued into the bar with his head held a little bit higher. 

You should’ve known that was a mistake then, but your mind was elsewhere as you worked your way to the bottom of your glass. 

You knew for sure that it was a mistake when he walked back out with a two drinks in hand. 

“Hey.” It was a smooth offer, even you’d admit that, passing you the drink in his hand and giving you a similar, yet far more in depth, look up and down. 

There were still a few sips left in the glass in your hand but you accepted the drink and set it carefully down on the table next to you. As his eyes scanned you, you downed what was left in your glass and reached for your new drink. “Hey yourself…”

“Do we know each other?” There’s a quirk in his eye as he asks. Something almost playful, something almost fun.

It takes you about a second to complete your read on him, and another half a second to accept that this is what your next few minutes looked like. 

“Yeah, I’m the woman of your dreams or something I’m sure.”

The laugh that bellows from his chest seems to catch him off guard. Any drop of composure, anything he put on just for the approach, washed away in an instant as the true laughter breaks through.

“I was being serious,” he sighs at the end of his laugh. “You actually look familiar.”

“You don’t.”

“Well, I just got back.”

You should’ve ended it. You should’ve known right there and then that it wasn’t worth your time. Other pilots were never worth your time.

Then he smiles again and you just couldn’t help yourself. “Trust me, we don’t know each other.”

“You’re sure?” His smirk curved up at the edge, a challenge. 

One pointed stare and a mirrored raise of your brow was all it took and his hands shot up in a playful dance of surrender. His bright smile accompanied it and you swore you felt something far too light bubbling the darkness sitting heavy on your chest. 

This was a mistake. 

“Hangman.” He extended his hand your way, offering a shake as he laid his call sign on the table, confirming what you already knew his day job to be. 

You didn’t take it, sipping at your drink instead, watching as he bit back laughter and pulled his hand back. He had pulled back just enough to offer you a way out, you could tell that was his intention at least. He was giving you space to tell him off entirely, and everything about him, from the perfectly manicured hair to the broad shoulders to the boots on his feet, told you to back out now. 

But his smile was telling you something else entirely. And you met him there.

“Is it a good story?”

He tried to hide his satisfaction with the question, doing his best to hold something else in as well as he turned his head to the side and shrugged in a play at indifference that just didn’t suit his ego. “Depends who you ask.”

The porch had emptied out as the sun set completely, leaving just the two of you. So when you leaned your head from left to right and shrugged, he nearly lost it laughing again. “I guess I’m asking you.”

“I’m very quick.”

“Aren’t all of you very quick?”

“They’re quick, I’m very quick.” He gets one laugh out and swallows the rest. “Quite a few have been left behind when they can’t keep up… or so the story goes.”

That almost makes you laugh. Almost. “Not a very good story.” 

“Well, no one asked you.”

How long had it been since a smile bubbled to your lips so naturally? It was barely there, and you certainly did your best to hide it with your drink, but it was a real smile. A natural smile. 

He must have seen it too, offering you yet another chance to meet him halfway. “I didn’t get your name…” 

Your smile isn’t fading. “I don’t have a name.”

“No?” He laughs.

“Nope.” Another sip of your drink brings you painfully close to the bottom. 

“You work on base?” He tries a new line of questioning, anything to get more than a few words in a row out of you. 

Your head feels a bit heavier than it should as you weigh it back and forth before offering a non-committal hum. He repeats it back to you in question and you sigh, offering him an answer. “Yeah, sometimes.”

“Sometimes? You don’t look like a civilian?”

Part of you can’t help but wonder what that means you do look like, but you don’t bother. Shaking your head, you answer, “not a civilian, just complicated.”

“I can do complicated.” 

That seemed to be whatever you needed to push you the rest of the way over the edge. A reminder from the echoing voice in your head, from the clawing darkness in your gut. 

This was a mistake. 

He didn’t know who you were, he didn’t know what he walked himself into. This wasn’t fair to him. 

And it certainly wasn’t fair to you. 

Pretending was fun. In some of these darkest moment, distraction was the only thing keeping you sane, but it would never last. You knew it could never last. 

You came for a drink, something to wash the bad taste in your mouth away long enough to sleep through the night. You didn’t come to ruin someone else’s night. It just wasn’t fair to either of you. 

“I’m sure you excel at it, Lieutenant.” You mock with a heat you hadn’t been able to muster when he first gave you the chance. “Look… this has been a fun few minutes but if you’re looking to have another fun few minutes tonight, you’re wasting your time with me.”

“I disagree.” The offer on the table wasn’t there anymore. He gave you a chance but you were in it now, you could see it on his face. That smile. He was feeding off the back and forth. He liked this. 

Fuck. This was a mistake. 

“Well, I’m glad I can be a source of entertainment but I’m serious.” Additional heat but his smile never melted. He didn’t just like this, he liked you. 

“Serious is a strange name for a woman as pretty as you are but if that’s what you go by…”

You couldn’t help the small turn of a smile this time, you beat it down with heavy fist but he could still pull it out of you like it was nothing. 

“Should I try guessing your name?” He’d give anything to keep your smile going. Anything he could. “Normal name? ’parents tried to be unique’ name? you kinda look like you could go either way.”

And as much as you knew you should back out, something light, something you barely even recognized in your chest, kept beating and you kept going. “Well your parents named you Hangman, so I don’t know if you’re really allowed to talk.”

He’s halfway through a sip of beer and sputters at your words. As he catches himself and wipes his lips, he smiles again, “it’s Jake, actually.”

“Jacob or just 'Jake'?”

“I don’t think parents name their kids just Jake-“

“Yeah, Jake is a pretty stupid name.”

“I meant just 'Jake'-“

“I honestly can’t tell anymore if your name is Jake or Jacob now-“

The rumble of laughter is cut short, like wind to a flame. 

A group of sailors roll out the door, drunkenly hanging off each other and locked into the chorus of whatever song had been playing through the walls just a minute ago. The three of them barely notice the stairs they’re falling down, so for a few seconds, your heart stays where it is in your chest. But the seconds fall quickly through the hourglass when the taller of the group stands to full height and a roughly 15 degree angle and turns back to where you and Hangman are sitting. 

A mustache and a face you know right away. 

“Holy shit, Ghost?”

Now silence and the crashing waves is all you can hear. 

Jake’s head turns in realization, matching your face, ever so slightly older, to the pictures of previous top gun classes they had been scanning through just days ago. Few are lucky enough to hold the title of best of the best, and you were one of them. Or you had been. 

All Jake knew now was that you didn’t fly fighter jets anymore. “Shit.” He says almost silently.

It was a mistake. At least you could leave knowing you were right about that now.

“Bradley Bradshaw…” you hum, taking the last swig of your drink and finding your feet. “Now that’s a pretty unfortunate name.”

Jake wants to laugh with you as you pass by, but you aren’t laughing and when he notices how quickly you’ve abandoned your smile, he can’t find it in him to laugh again. 

Rooster musters up a half-hearted and mostly drunken apology that you wave your hand at, figuring he’ll forget he ever saw you by the time the sun re-emerges. He tries again as you step past him but again, you dismiss him. “Don’t worry about it.”

It isn’t until you find the stairs that you turn back to find Jake’s waiting stare. “Thanks for the drink.”

He nods, unable to find any other semblance of words. 

And you carry on, hoping the bottle of liquor in your nightstand can calm the nerves boiling under your skin at the mere mention of your call sign. 

[milliumizoomi]

Hi, I was thinking Armando Ateras x Reader. So let’s just say that Reader is half human and half vampire and she controls her thirst but she still needs to feed but the hospital is closed down. When Armando came home, he noticed that the house is completely quiet and he saw Reader on the bed back turn and was breathing heavily. He walked towards her and he noticed that her eyes were brown and dark and has dark circles under her eyes and he asked what is wrong and told him that she needs to feed but the hospital is closed down. So Armando offers her to feed off from him but she says no quickly but still lets her feed. :)

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄

☆彡SUMMARY.; You’re so thirsty, and yet you can’t take the help he’s offering.

☆彡FEATURED.; ARMANDO x HALFVAMP!READER

☆彡TROPE.; ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP

☆彡FORMAT.; ONE SHOT

☆彡GENRE.; SLIGHT CRACK + ANGST (if you squint) + FLUFF

☆彡WARNINGS.; Mentions of Blood, Mentions of human testing, Child Abandonment, Mentions of Death, Biting, + Mature Language

☆彡NOTES.; Thank you sooo much for the request and I’m sorry it took so long, it took me 3 days to edit this🧍🏽‍♀️,, it was kicking my ass fr but I had fun writing it since I don’t think I’ve ever written something like this before. I hope yall enjoyyyy!!🥰🥰

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED🧛🏽‍♀️.

🎧FOR THE BEST EXPERIENCE, YOU CAN LISTEN TO SORROWS by BRYSON TILLER🎧

Death.

So this is what this dreaded thing feels like.

It had felt like years, centuries even you’ve been at home feeling pain beyond what you believe to be normal.

Put it simply, you’re thirsty as shit and the only thing that you can drink to ease it a little you have nothing of.

Blood.

With you being half vampire and all, it’d make sense that’d be the only thing you can even think of drinking.

The backstory of you being or becoming a vampire is definitely not a pretty one. You were tested in from an early age. Your shit parents sold you off for a couple grubby dollars because they could. They just didn’t want to take care of you, so what better way to get rid of a kid than selling her off right?

God bless the world now though because they’re dead, and they never get to bring another kid into this world. It took years of being prodded, poked, scanned, and lasered until Miami Department came and got you out of there. Only the people on this mission was even aware of your situation and what exactly you were.

Your situation was made top secret, which meant not many should even know you’re the person rescued from this place. Only the people in the mission, which was AMMO, and the captain, that was it.

That being said you had to be kept in a facility for a while to be monitored before they let you go. They didn’t want to risk anything so they had to make sure you were good to go to be let out. And with you being so top-secret, that meant you had to stay in a place with someone that already knew your secret. Marcus decided to take you in, after many, many… many talks with Mike. They made sure you got what you needed and you even got the chance to integrate back into society.

However, this isn’t the matter at hand right now.

With this all being said, the fact was that you were not full vampire. With that in mind, this sheer thirst you have for blood right now is absolutely ridiculous. You’ve never had this problem before.

You don’t even know why you’re feeling like this in the first place.

You were usually able to control yourself, control your desires, your urges, your thirst. But now, it felt like you could rip the walls off hospital just to get inside for even a drop of blood.

Stones felt like they were piling higher and higher into your neck.

You were so fucking thirsty.

It had been god knows how many hours, close to about 2 days since the hospital closed down and you could feel the hot sensation of burning in your insides, along with fatigue and pain all over your body. You could curse the damned hospitals for putting you through this. You could control your thirst, you knew you could, but for some reason these last couple days, you had been completely insatiable.

And the people who could help you right now had been gone for almost a week. One of them being your boyfriend of 11 months.

Armando.

You had met him at the department, where you usually had to go for routine inspection of the state of your body and your abilities. He had been let out of jail for sometime, and with him being on AMMO, his father informed him of your situation.

Apparently he trusted his son with your secret.

He was weary of you at first, but that quickly died when he saw how you carried yourself. What led him to become so drawn to you was your raw strength and mental fortitude. He was impressed (and partially terrified) not only of your speed and strength, but also your ability to keep your thirst for blood at a minimum.

Granted nobody else in the world was like you.

Still though, he half expected you to react in the ways he’d seen vampires in movies would, unarticulated and flat out greedy for blood. Your personality is what sold him though, but that’s a story for another time.

Right now, the man you were currently silently begging to come home was nowhere to be found, as he was busy on a mission, and only god knows how long it’ll take him, or anybody else who knows about your situation to come back, You wanted him to be back so badly so he could just hold you as you went through this, not wanting to be alone. You were laying on your side, back facing the door and breathing so hard you were feeling severely lightheaded, even when laying down.

The after what felt like another hour had gone by, you heard the front door open and could’ve screamed for joy if you weren’t so damn thirsty and borderline passing out.

“Baby..?”

You heard his voice as his smell was enough to make you feel like you could get through this.

Armando, on the other hand, was on it.

Immediately, when he neared the bedroom after putting his stuff down, he could already sense something was wrong. When he saw you laying on the bed, back facing him and breathing hard, he immediately was on full alert.

He came over to you and slowly turned you over in your back, trying to assess the state you’re in.

“Mama? Talk to me, tell what’s wrong, what do you need?”

You looked at him, barely able to form words, you were just so out of it. He noticed your usual brown eyes were so dark they were border-lining black now, and under your eyes were dark circles. You looked like you haven’t slept in days.

“Mama talk to me please.. I need to know what to do to help you..”

“..thirsty.” You barely manage to answer him, practically gasping as the single word left your mouth.

“Where’s your blood baby? You don’t have any more?”

You shook your head no. And you already knew what his next question would be, so again, grasping at straws for the words to rip themselves from the back of your burning throat, you managed to say, “..hospital’s closed.. can’t get more..”

He tsks at the information you just told him. He quickly kicks off his shoes and climbs onto the bed, lifting your head slowly to rest and on his lap as he brushes your hair, trying to find anyway to alleviate the pain he knows you’re in right now.

Judging by your state, you could very well die without getting blood somehow, and of course he could go get it for you, but he doesn’t want to leave your side.

He can’t risk that.

“Mama vamos... bebe el mío, no puedo dejarte así...”

At this point, you felt like your head was splitting and your ears were ringing, so you swore you had heard him wrong. You gave him an incredulous look, which he picked up on. “Baby I’m not kidding.” Quickly, but carefully, he pulled your body up so you were in a position where you were sitting in his lap, face facing his.

“You look like you’re about to pass out, you need to drink some of mine, now.”

You shake your head immediately. Weakly, you respond, “Hell no.. I’m not doing that. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“No te lo estaba preguntando.”

He shoots you a look, and if you could, you’d muster up the strength to roll your eyes. You swore you’d never drink directly from a person, it just felt so wrong to you, wrong to even think about. It would make you feel less human, and it already took you months to start ingesting blood.

“Woman drink, now!” Still being stubborn, you didn’t budge. So he had to take matters into his own hands. He guided your head from the crook of his shoulder to look at him.

“Listen to me mama.. I can tell you’re fucking exhausted and tired, so I need you to listen to me and drink, I’ll be damned if I lose you to your stubbornness. I’m not playing with you. Drink.” You start shying away from the intensity of his gaze and words.

You knew very well what you not listening to him would do. Sighing, you sucked it up and looked at him, nodding. He leans back a bit and takes off his shirt, then cranes his neck to one side, fully surrendering himself so you can start the process.

You swallow nervously, the dry feeling scraping at your insides. Slowly, you lean closer, your fangs slowly growing as your face draws closer to his face. You stop momentarily, not sure if you want to go through with this. “Go on baby, está bien..” he rasps, rubbing your back gently.

At his reassurance, you come close enough to his neck and open your mouth, your sharp fangs coming into view and bite down. He groans at the intrusion, his body momentarily tensing at the feeling.

You on the other hand felt as if you were in pure bliss. The sounds you were making at the taste of his blood would have the neighbors sharing some questionable looks. You felt so energized, and you couldn’t get enough. His blood felt like crack to you, it was so addictive. Armando swore it would hurt more than it did. It felt.. pleasing.

He liked it.

Maybe he should let you do this more often.

Finally, you pull back from him, dazed. He too is a little whipped from the situation. He holds the back of your head as you pull back, studying your face. Your eyes were already beginning to glow, reverting to their original color. “¿Mejor?” You nod yes, bringing a hand up to wipe the access blood and the corner of your mouth. Your body had felt like it was buzzing with pure electricity.

It felt so much better.

“See.. that’s why you need to listen to me mama.”

You nodded in agreement. “Yeah I know.. thank you baby.”

He smiled at you. “De nada, mamá...now can you wrap this up for me so we can shower?” Gesturing to his neck.

You laugh a bit and smile. “Sí, vale.”

[GLOSSARY]

“Mama vamos... bebe el mío, no puedo dejarte así...” —“Mama, let’s go... drink mine, I can’t leave you like that...”

“No te lo estaba preguntando.” — “I wasn’t asking you.”

“. . . está bien..” — “. . . it’s fine..”

“¿Mejor?” — “Better?”

“De nada, mamá. . .” — “You’re welcome, mama. . .”

“Sí, vale.” — “Yeah, okay.”

ミ★

{TAGLIST} :: @armandosbabymama @ghettogirly @tinys0ftie @shurisgf @radioloom @butterflyybabe @dyttomori @nuggetnat888 @yeahnobyehoney @urbanlovestory || if you’d like to be added to the taglist just let me know in comments or dms🤗💕.

ミ★

©2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — MILLIUMIZOOMI. Do not modify, repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any work posted on this blog without my permission.

[zombvic]

TINDER IRL PART one (harry lewis x reader)

summary : in which y/n gets invited to the sidemen tinder irl (usa edition) and meets a certain brit and their instant friendship slowly progresses into something bigger

face claim : no one right now (kendall jenner later)

notes : reader is like a 2019 ICON like disstracks against the paul brothers, ricegum etc.. now STILL doing youtube but on a much more lowkey basis. also im sorry but i had to add that the reader is an f1 fan IM SORRY (im locked in as an f1 girlie) 😵 yall im not american or even close to a native english speaker (#slavicstruggles) but i tried making the readeramerican cause i tried to do the american la gf x british bloke bf xx god bless 'merica RAAAAAH. also i used lines from like all the videos and made my own cause the lines from this video were insane.. last also, don't be a ghost reader 🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️

pairings : harry lewis x reader , sidemen x platonic!reader , all the other youtuber in the videos x platonic!reader

warnings : drugs (ketamine joke)

You got invited to the SIDEMEN Tinder In Real Life youtube video. You are acutely aware to what the Sidemen are and you've seen their videos before. Now to be fair, the genres between your channel and their channels were pretty different. The Sidemen were known for football challenges, those 100$ vs 100,000$ challenges and other things with a similar vibe. You on the other hand, you did vlogs, lifestyle hack and tips, in your time you've achieved some disstracks and occasionally broke down some formula 1 grand prix weekend.

The moment you saw the instagram dm from the Sidemen official account you weren't sure how to react. Should you be excited? scared? worried? yeah.. all. It was the Sidemen, Logan Paul, Mike and George (idk who Mike and George but who cares).

Eventually you accepted the offer and waited till the day you had to be "picked up" by kinda random men for 5 minutes straight. The day came, you got dressed for the video shoot, they made you wait with the other girls until they called your name and then you walked in.

"Hi, I'm (your name). I'm 24 and i'm from Newark, New Jersey" (go devs go) You've practiced that line like 50 times before you left, not because you wanted to come out of this video with a new man but because you didn't want to embarrass yourself lmao.

"Hi, I'm Vikk. I'm 26 and are you from Tennessee, because you're the only ten i see"

"Would've been funny if i hadn't just said im from New Jersey dude, no sorry"

"Hello, I'm Logan-"

"No. Complicated history" you said as you swiped left.

"One chance please"

"Alright, BUT u gotta watch it tho"

"Okay. SO. If i were a pizza delivery guy, i'd be giving YOU the tip"

"Ew no sorry lmfao.. that was weak as fuck"

"Alright wow, Hello, I'm Tobi. I'm 31 and they say that kissing is a language of love, so would you mind starting a conversation with me?"

"Sure go on.. yes. I love that"

Hello, My name is Ethan and let only latex stand between our love.

"Yeah thats funny.. alright, go on"

"Yo, I'm KSI. I'm 30 and you know how they say skin is the largest organ on the human body? Well.. Not in my case."

"Lmao, yes go on"

“Hello, I'm Mike. I'm 37 and girl, you don't need no vibrator when you got this Pickled Dick.”

"Jesus Christ. No, get out"

"Hi, My name is Simon and.. Simon says you want to swipe right"

"Lmao. I love that, Yes"

"Sup, I'm George and I’m peanut butter. You’re jelly. Let’s have sex"

"Jeeesus, that’s crazy bro... no"

"Hello, My name is Josh and I find your lack of nudity disturbing"

"No, I'm so sorry" (guys i love freya sm i couldnt do this)

"Uhm, Hello. I'm Harry. I'm 26 years old and what do ketamine and your underpants have in common?"

"I don't know" you said looking at the blonde-ish man confused.

"I'd like to sniff them both."

The whole room fell into a laughter, you included. "Yes"

"BUT I GET A NO?" Logan exclaims. "What a scam"

WHY DID YOU SAY NO?

(NO : Logan, Josh, Mike, Vikk and George)

"For Logan i think we left this in 2019 and rightfully so. For Josh i dont really know tbh, i just thought his line couldve been better. Mike, i think you know why i said no. Vikk.. Im gonna be honest i dont even remember what youve said but im sure i had my reasons and George, you couldve been waaaaaay smoother mate.. tough luck"

YALL. this is part one because i cant be arsed and put it all right here right now 😁😁😁

[court-jobi]

Tagalong

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work OR the mindblowing art of @toshiimura))

Pairing: Midoriya x reader (retired by injury pro-hero fem!reader)

Words: 2.6K

Rating: T (18+ touches later on, to be safe~)

Warnings: Interrupted first time, heavy petting, established relationship, sharing a bed, honestly just Izuku in love and fluffy times commence in a hotel room.

Summary:

Joining Midoriya Sensei on his work trip -and yes, even sharing a bed for the first time- is medicine for you. The exchange of your passions has -and continues to be- an endless source of healing as you navigate life post-hero work. Each night away, you've danced into a settled calm with him; learning the rhythm of his habits. His sounds, his silences. When Izuku meets your gaze in the mirror, you read his mind loud and clear in how he emotes: he fawns, he sighs, then nods in the dearest way.

A/N: give me my sweet, simpering Deku, or give me death. Also by the way, yall are the best readers out there, thank you so much for all the love for my lil stories!

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

Life post-hero work was an adjustment for you… but you were starting to really get into the perks.

The lack of daily physical hardship holds the top spot on your list. PT? You can handle that on a rolling basis– the worst is behind you, and due to what you put yourself through which resulted in your injury, you’re out of official hero work for the foreseeable future- and in a way, grateful for the break on your muscles. You still retain your quirk, but can enjoy its thrills on a more recreational basis– your sweet boyfriend has even helped your healing by way of gentle exercises to keep things moving properly and get life manageable for you. 

Next would be the diet. You could certainly dip back into your baking hobby guilt-free now. You couldn’t get away from the hero world entirely -nor did you want to… but being able to settle into an agency office with an hourly job was also an incredible blessing. Late nights here and there were inevitable, but on the whole, you were able to greet and end your days with a steadiness of routine and safety.

Meeting Izuku Midoriya was the icing on your early retirement cake. Where you were tenderly finding your footing off the hero charts, Izuku held your hand to keep you upright. He didn’t lead or pull back on you– just came alongside you, so you didn’t fall too hard on the knees of self-doubt. He’s always so good like that. He knows your path because he himself shares it, and what a thing of fate that is.

New to you now though, is the general scope of free time you have. Not a forced flexibility due to the demand asked of an on-call hero, but you have paid time off. You have flex hours. You can work from home, if you so choose– so when you get the call that Izuku has been asked to hold a spot at the Sports Festival as the lead commentator, you are over the moon that you can answer with a wholehearted ‘yes’ when he asks you to come with him.

As if he’d be anything short of ecstatic, you truly believe the job was made for him. He’s got books upon books of hero research written by hand, and is essentially a walking Brittanica for Japan’s up and coming heroes, because of course he watches every other school’s sports fests in his free time so that his class can be the most prepared. Taking the role Present Mic once held when he was a student is a full-circle moment, and it's pretty precious seeing him in it. 

From day one, he’s a master of his craft, and from the couch you share in the observation deck with his co-teacher, Aizawa, you’re beyond impressed. You honestly wouldn’t be able to tell what department he was aligned with; he’s observant and complimentary of every students’ moves. You asked the pro hero hero beside you if this was the case when Izuku was younger, and he merely offered a sleepy,

“Intolerably, yes.”

But you see the lift of his cheek against his eyepatch and know that he’s secretly proud. 

The Sports Festival spreads over the course of a week now, as the culture surrounding the events available for support students to engage in has increased- to Izuku’s pride and joy. The training and feats of the heroes wouldn’t be possible without the other side of the coin, so he’s just as enthusiastic to hype up the developments of those courses as well. 

Watching your sweet Izuku -catching his eye when he looks back over to you and silently ushers you over to come watch an anticipated match-up of his kids off and on- is medicine for you. This entire exchange of passions has, and continues to be, a source of joy for you and is a treasured part of doing life with him. On that note, the event being held away from your district also grants you extended time to spend together that you normally wouldn’t, given the difference in your professional lives. Here, you’re locked in to five days and four nights of perfectly synced time– something you’ve not been able to do up to this point in your relationship.

Falling asleep and waking up together? This is the best thing ever.

On the first night, it hits your adorably flustered boyfriend that you’d indeed be sharing a room- and bed. That arrangement was something you’d registered the moment he’d asked you and were assuming he’d mentally (and spiritually) prepared for; but evidently it faced him the moment he stepped up to the counter to check in that Nezu had arranged you both to be together by default in the hotel block. 

But rather than falling on the trope of taking the armchair or sleeping on the ground like a middle school nervous nelly, Izuku was shy about it at first… but eager for the chance. The secret part of him finally let out some boyish excitement to find a bed big enough for you to actually share. You’d learned here that you both can spoon like you do on the couch, but you have so much room now. On both your parts, you’re a bit giggly and stiff at first- but settle in sweetly for the most comfortable night of your life.

By the second night, you both scoot into your room and -after a day of dancing around each other at more and more events- you’d be heard from the hallway: jumping into his arms and tackling him to the bed, filled with giggles and lots of kissing until you tangle up more willingly to sleep.

Night three, you’d both stayed out longer than you intended; catching up with some of the other instructors, which turned into essentially a repeat of the night you met. You take to talking up a storm on one of the hotel patios in a nerdy exchange of info-dumping and story-swapping that continues for almost three hours. You basically collapsed into bed the instant you got back, not even brushing your teeth out of exhaustion. Then by your fourth, you both are still so tired from the late night before and you flop on the bed, still in the sun-warmed clothes you set out in that morning.

It's so nice to be held by him- and it's torture to then look back up at each other. There’s definitely a softness found in Izuku’s face -as always, when it comes to your perfectly freckled sweetheart- but also something deep and personal. You want to ask him to shower together so badly and get rid of the day together- anything to add to this closeness you’ve been tiptoe-ing through all week. Worry over pushing him when he’s essentially on the clock keeps you from asking. This time, you still go about your rituals separately, only when you get out, you stay in a towel and shorts instead of full dressing down for bed.

When you're at the in-suite mirror doing your expedited, travel-sized skincare routine and Izuku stops by after he's out of the bathroom, he hesitates mid-step from trying to duck around you– and comes close, holds you by the middle. He stands shirtless behind you for the first time, showing you the scarring he carries in its fullest- no more tanks or undershirts hiding the worst from you. 

You’re as they say in the movies- incandescently happy.

“You smell so good,” he whispers. 

“You feel so good,” you answer. “Wanna go lay down?”

When Izuku meets your gaze in the mirror, you read his mind loud and clear in how he emotes: he fawns, he sighs, then nods in the dearest way. No sense in holding this darn towel up anymore, you simply turn in his arms, drop it, and kiss his surprise away with your reach up to his neck for a kiss. Your first of many, on this last night you could be wrapped up in your incredible boyfriend's arms with nothing but tender intentions on your mind.

Neither of you see a strong need for too many clothes under the sheets for this little foray into skin-to-skin contact, and enjoy a restorative makeout session. He's marked you up a bit, too, by all the harsh kissing he tends to do towards you (you low-key love this, since ‘that’s what makeup’s for’), and you especially appreciate how he plays with you perched in this arrangement.

You’re the first girl he's ever had topless in his reach– which is obvious from how he holds you in his lap nuzzling at your chest,

"Wow, y'r the moss'beautiful woman i'vever seen~"

From your previous talks of dalliances, you proudly keen over him, "I think I'm the only naked woman you've ever seen."

"-I've seen naked women."

You glance back to him, humored but flat, "Who."

Those green doe eyes flicker back up at you, oddly innocent as he quickly names his former classmate, who you’ve commonly heard referred to as Yaomomo, 

“Creati?” he tries to jog your memory, “i-it's part of her quirk, I didn't ev’r mean to look..."

Playfully suspicious, you test him, "Never had a feel?"

"I mean,” Izuku sharpens up a little to answer clearly, “She fell on me once, over in one of the training centers- and I wasn't gonna let her hit or head on something.."

"So a 'strategic catch'. Is that what we're calling it?" You sway your chest in front of him, feeling up his own, “I’m a horribly jealous creature, as you well know.”

He sinks and nuzzles gently at your pushed up chest- by his desire for lift. You’re playing with his painfully polite nature, of course- nothing but secure of your place with him.

"Not even once. Promise." 

Izuku lays a little kiss on your freshly cleaned skin where your heart lies under the surface, and ends up moaning at how soft it is- and so, keeps peppering kisses to your delight, "Oh wow... Oh wow, you're soft."

His name leaves you in an unsteady sigh as you’ve been scratching through his hair until it starts feeling so sharp and heady that you grip onto his neck in need of more support.

He's working on some passes with his tongue around your nipple when he whisper-sighs up to you, 

"mmmm don't stop doing tha'..."

So you play with his hair at his request, and he adores every bit of you that’s in reach: chin to cheek to neck while being the most gently vocal you've ever heard him.

The minute you rolled your barely clothed hips up on his lap just once, he split his attention from holding your waist to him to smoothing over your thigh to encourage the movement.

He started a slinking lean as he did so, losing his absolute mind watching you in a daze, before something dull hit your window - followed by a kid’s call of 'Sorry!!' . You siphon all your attention at the noise in a wide-eyed look that matches his.

Sweetly enough, you noted how fast Izuku held you at the sound, like he was going into strict ‘protect’ mode at the clash of a frisbee.

But, out of danger and out of breath, Izuku simply fell back and palmed his face.

"ughhbyou feel'so good... Mdizzy."

The heat you’d felt simmering in you has died at the interruption, but your fondness sure hasn’t.

You giggled, lowering into his chest and gripping the covers over your shoulders to warm you up, "Good dizzy?"

Even with an arm over his eye, your boy chuckled brilliantly, 

"Very good dizzy, hon’. Whew. We uh– we better stop before they start bangin’ on the door next."

You carded through his hair more, self-assured he was still just as taken by you despite the hard stop. How he kept you to him while shuffling the covers over you both was proof he didn’t want you going anywhere. Once settled, he felt he could focus again and brushed your hair back for attention,

"Hi there, handsome~"

"h-hi~" Izuku echoed.

You kissed again, a good deal calmer at first, but growing like a steady fire. Lips roaming, claiming, and keeping you ever closer. Comfort and reclaimed eagerness tipped you over by his strong guiding hand, all in favor to continue to mouth along your clavicle again.

Then, at the first sound of your addictive moans, he detached- forehead to your sternum, watching the rise and fall of your sweet belly beneath him.

"Ahh..” Izuku’s little war with himself was adorable, “w-we should stop. For real. I can’t- that’d be mean."

“You said that,” you answer with mirth, “but I don’t think ‘Little Deku’ agrees~”

Izuku wheezes out your first, middle, last and retired hero title to the point of coughing before you take it easy on him. Poor, desperate thing, brought low by little tease.

You chuffed against his stroke of nerves kindly. 

"Yes we should, if you say so," You snaked a hand through his hair, "Thank the Maker we don't have to second guess the chemistry department, huh?"

Izuku laughed brightly, slotting himself atop you, between the legs so you didn't have to feel how semi-hard he was. Snuggling back down, your heartbeats held their own conversation, content to cool to a reasonable temperature and slow things down, together.

"I'm so glad you came here with me." Izuku spoke softly to your neck, "This time with you really does me so much good."

And you really have enjoyed it. Getting to see firsthand the place where much of his proving of himself started, this event forged a lot of bonds with the close friends he still has to this day. 

"I'm glad I did too," You kissed the hairline within reach and simply laid comforting scratches along his back. "It's gonna be hell to go back."

"You don't wanna go back to work?"

You threw pity into your voice, "I don't wanna give up this glorified sleepover, no."

You don’t mean just getting carried away with thin walls and thinner restraint. You mean the intimacy that getting out of town sometimes offers in a way nothing else would. The week has made you softer, more in tune to the rhythm of Izuku’s habits. His sounds, his silences. 

The dampened shyness you hold thinking about it floats across him, so he laid back onto your arm to look up at you, 

"We don't have to. We can still have them~"

"Yeah?" You wonder how, earnestly, and he smiles in kind.

"Yeah!” his answer radiates nothing but pure sunshine, “Whenever you want! I'll come over, and we'll cook, and have podcast nights and snuggle, and... and.."

He’s got a look now- one that teeters along the line of flirty and unsure.

"Snuggle?" you finish for him mercifully.

"Y-yeah."

"Vocal snuggles?"

"Stop it," Izuku hid in your shoulder, "don't make fun of me."

"I'm not making fun of you~" you turned and kissed his blushing cheeks, rubbing his shoulder slowly. "No more than I'm making fun of myself for sounding like a wonton Victorian who just caught sight of an ankle for the first time."

His laughter betrays how offended he is at the idea, "Stoooop…"

"Mmmm, I don't think I will!"

Time to take things slow.. that might top your list now. If it means more nights with your hero draped in your arms, then the promise of time spent under his attention beats out any other remedy you’ve found so far. 

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 3: TOO SOFT TO CHEW

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

There’s a nasty thought in the back of his mind that festers every time he thinks about how much his skin longs to be in contact with yours. That someday, this fact will come back to bite him in the ass, that maybe he’s letting his guard down too much.

But that’s a problem for another day.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: smut (18+ mdni), bratty satoru, big angst, angry sex, oral sex (m receiving)

ੈ✩ wc: 3.3k

ੈ✩ a/n: i kind of hate how short this chapter is but it's a primer for the hell that breaks loose in later chapters. hope yall are enjoying kiss kiss kiss

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September, 2008

The way Satoru wants you makes your head spin. Your encounters are irregular and almost always in secret. Satoru likes to show you different spots around town, secret havens where he doesn’t have to worry about getting interrupted. This is what he tells you – he doesn’t want to waste a minute with you. You believe him.

It gets unnerving when he begins to take you while you’re both in school. Sometimes in a single-stall bathroom, once in a supply closet. Every time, he makes you cum, and after you’re both spent, you walk back to class together without a word. He doesn’t touch you otherwise.

It contrasts the clingy Satoru that you get at home. He’s touchy, annoyingly so, as if he can’t stand to not be tethered to you for more than two minutes. He is infinitely suffocating and you are too infatuated to care.

When he’s entangled with you in his bed, you ask him a question that guts him.

“Do you think staying like this is a good idea?”

“What do you mean?” Satoru mumbles sleepily. “You wanna get out of bed?”

“No, I mean, this,” you make a vague gesture, “I just… figure that when we go off to different colleges it’ll be harder. To, um, hang out.”

“Huh? What college are you going to?”

You know he doesn’t mean it rudely, like the thought of you investing in higher education was something implausible. You think that maybe he hadn’t thought that far into the future when it came to the two of you together. It makes you ache regardless.

You tell him about the university you got into that was able to give you a scholarship. He looks at you like you have three heads.

“Don’t you want to go to Jujutsu Tech with me?” he asks. 

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you have a technique.”

There’s an awkward silence between you. The air shifts. He pulls you a bit closer, has his hand cupping your jaw. 

“Satoru– I’m not going to be a sorcerer–”

“Why not?” he yawns. “You could get in, easily. Especially if I have anything to do with it. And Shoko could teach you a thing or two—”

“Who said I wanted to become a sorcerer?” you blurt.

Satoru looks at you in disbelief with a hint of betrayal behind his eyes. As if what you say is preposterous, unheard of. Because where would you be if not by his side?

He argues with you about this. It makes your blood warm. The thought of having to follow him around. Forever stuck in his shadow. He was already blessed by heavenly bodies, Six Eyes and all. You were nothing.

You could never compare to the inherent invincibility of his cursed technique. No one truly could. Knowing how late your technique manifested makes you feel even more inferior. With your status in the world, a maid’s daughter, there was no point in becoming a pawn in the Jujutsu world. How would you make a career? How could you ever be strong enough to save anyone? And if you died, you’d only leave behind your mother. 

The wedge between you deepens after that. You realize how far away you are from Satoru on paper despite him aching for your touch, close enough to you right now as his breath licks your face.

There’s no resolution. It snowballs into something worse. This looming threat is above your heads now, a slap of reality about how different the two of you are. You realize it would be convenient for Satoru if the thing between the two of you ended. It wouldn’t matter to him – he had everything. He always would. You only had your heart and your dignity. 

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Satoru sighs against your temple. “We’ll figure it out. I really do think you should come to Jujutsu Tech.”

He shuts you up with his mouth, with his hands circling your thighs like he always does, the way you always let him.

November, 2008

You’re getting better at your technique. You think you could do just fine if Satoru wasn’t constantly breathing down your neck about it. Especially when he does stupid things to challenge your ability – absentmindedly burning himself on a lighter when he hits a joint, sucking in bruises into your skin that turn dark purple. You’re able to heal it all, but he knows you’re capable of more.

“C’mon. Hit me again.”

“You won’t even let me hit you!”

“Maybe you aren’t trying hard enough. I even let my Infinity down for you.”

Truthfully, Satoru lets his Infinity down for you all the time. It’s as easy as breathing to be around you, and he knows you don’t have the capacity to harm him. There’s a nasty thought in the back of his mind that festers every time he thinks about how much his skin longs to be in contact with yours. That someday, this fact will come back to bite him in the ass, that maybe he’s letting his guard down too much.

But that’s a problem for another day.

You groan in frustration. Satoru’s had you in his backyard for at least two hours, attempting basic combat with cursed energy. Despite claiming that he wants to train you to at least be able to fend for yourself, you think he just enjoys playing with you like a dog. 

“Why are we even doing this?” you complain.

“Even if you don’t end up a big-shot sorcerer, I feel like you should still be able to exorcise a curse,” he shrugs. You’re winded and Satoru looks more than fine. Even after all the athletics, he doesn’t have a hair out of place or a wrinkle in his T-shirt. 

“But my technique is for healing.”

“You have incredible cursed energy output, though,” Satoru says. “It’s why I could never believe you were just a Window.”

The flicker of Satoru’s cursed energy brightens, you notice. You blink and see a dark figure emerge from the side of the house. One with fox-like eyes and a warm smile.

“Satoru! What have you done to our girl?” Suguru bellows. He holds a bag of daifuku in hand, giving you one without asking before Satoru grabs the package greedily. 

“You know I like roughing her up,” Satoru shrugs. “She’s a big girl, she needs to be able to scare away creepy men, y’know?”

“Like who, you? You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here, dumbass,” you chastise. 

“You could never get rid of me, Twigs.” He grins despite the cheekful of mochi. You and Suguru share a look of distaste. 

Satoru agrees to a snack break, if only to eat most of the daifuku while you make tea for the three of you. Suguru helps you prepare and clean up. It surprises you.

“Thank you, Geto-san.”

He tells you to call him by his first name and you try to convince yourself it’s nothing.

For some reason, Satoru is more rambunctious than usual. He almost always is whenever Suguru is around as if he’s waiting impatiently for something to happen. Waspish. Suguru often calls him a little brat. It’s nothing you could ever say to him, not in a way that has the same meaning. He’s the only one who can tame the beast. Satoru sees Suguru as his other half. Where one goes, the other follows. 

In the grass, they are an ouroboros of limbs as they brawl. Milky flesh flushed pink, gruff grunts and giggles. You imagine yourself between the two boys. You wonder about the taste of Suguru’s skin. If Satoru knows. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did. 

You watch them in awe. Two godlings entwined. 

It’s not enough to want to be in between them — and you know better, because you will never be them. 

“Tap out, Sugu,” Satoru whines. “I’m bored. Let’s train Twigs again.”

“She clearly doesn’t want to,” Suguru remarks, pushing Satoru off like a pest. He wipes the sweat off his forehead with his shirt, exposing his abdomen underneath. You feel like you should look away. “You like sitting in the audience, right, princess?”

Satoru grins at your reaction to princess. You hope the idea of calling you that himself doesn’t get into his head. 

“C’mon, Suguru. Throw her one of your curses. Maybe something without too many legs. She hates those.”

“Absolutely not,” you interject, crossing your arms.

“Okay, then heal me,” Suguru chuckles. He shows you a scratch on his forearm. “This motherfucker fights like a cat.”

“Acts like one, too,” you grumble. “A very annoying one that always wants attention.”

You heal him within seconds and he’s good as new. He holds your hand after, just for a moment. When you blink towards Satoru’s direction, he drops it. 

“You staying for dinner?” Satoru asks. He doesn’t look at you. He isn’t asking you. His gaze is on Suguru instead. 

“Nah, I promised Shoko I’d help her get decorations for the party on Friday,” Suguru answers. He turns to you. “You’re coming, right?”

“Uh—”

“To Shoko’s birthday party. I thought she invited you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you shrug. Satoru is quiet, pretending to be distracted by his phone. “Satoru?”

“Oh, huh?” He looks up, feigning oblivion. “Yeah. You should come.” 

Maybe he’d forgotten to tell you about it. You swear he has some form of ADHD from how scatterbrained he is. 

Then again, you think about all the time you spend with Satoru. You’re always alone with him, with Suguru as an occasional buffer when he wants to be. The thought of Satoru’s arm around you at a party excites you. Would he hold your hand? Would he introduce you to other people?

“It’ll be, uh, here,” he mutters. “At nine.”

Oh.

“The theme is Scorpio, so wear something hot and dark,” Suguru winks. 

“A sexy little number with a bunch of legs and a stinger, too,” Satoru quips.

satoru: skip next period with me

satoru: wanna kiss u

One thing you’ve known about Satoru since he was a child is that he is annoying when he doesn’t get attention. 

You keep to yourself during the school day, not bothering to see him for lunch in the courtyard like you do every other day. You ignore his texts. You don’t look at him in class.

It’s the same behavior towards him from the last semester. But that was before he started fucking you. When he sears his gaze into your head during class and you don’t even bother to look up, he feels fucking insane. Of course, he won’t rest until he corners you.

He finds you later under a tree, cradled by roots. You look so peaceful that he almost feels bad about interrupting you, but he’s been bereft of your attention all day.

“You done giving me the silent treatment yet?” His voice booms above you. He tilts his head at you coyly. Hands shoved in his front pockets. 

You squint up at him from your position, startled by his arrival. You’re attempting to read your book in the grass, which isn’t half-dead yet. You don’t say anything as he sits besides you and fiddles with a clementine in his large hands. He peels the skin and feeds you a slice. 

“Wow,” Satoru scoffs, only mildly affronted. “So you’ll take my snacks but not text me back.”

“You offered,” you shrug. 

You let him kiss your neck, feather-soft as he pushes your hair to your back. You stay still and continue to read, despite his distractions. You try to blame the shiver down your spine on the cool gust of wind that passes and not Satoru’s tongue on your skin. He’s obnoxious when he indulges, especially when it comes to you.

“Are you mad at me?” he whines in your ear. Teeth on your earlobe.

“No.”

“Yes, you are,” he grins. “That’s why you’ve been ignoring me all day. What is it, baby? Wanna sit on my face about it?”

You roll your eyes, even though heat flashes in your center at his vulgar words. Satoru never took you seriously, even when you were kids. It seemed that he wasn’t going to start even now that you’re intimate together.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the party?” you ask. 

He looks at you and raises a brow, casually slipping another clementine slice into his mouth. He shrugs.

“Slipped my mind, I guess.”

“You’re hosting it, Satoru. You didn’t think to tell me?”

“I’m sorry. I just assumed you’d be there anyway since it’s at my house. It didn’t occur to me that you needed a formal invitation.”

It’s ironic. Because of all people, you would understand what it’s like to be separate from others, and he knew that. You never belonged anywhere, therefore you could never assume you were welcome. You were only at the Gojo residence because his family allowed you to be. You’re around Satoru all the time because he lets you. 

While Satoru has had his fair share of teenage hedonism, with Suguru and Shoko, you were never a part of it despite your proximity to his family. He always prefers you alone.

It stings. You wonder if he knows or if he’s just careless. You assume Satoru has never had to care about anyone other than himself, anyway. 

Unfortunately, he’s good at soothing your wounds.

You try to resist him, but it ends with you wrestling him to the ground when he tries to touch your thigh. His arms are pinned above his head and he groans when you grind against him. Already, he’s half-hard.

“Look at you,” Satoru whistles. “Brave girl.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me. You know how.”

You glare at him. You know that he’s taunting you to get what he wants. You also know that trying to resist him makes his dick even harder. 

He squirms in your grasp for a second, chuckling as you struggle with him. He can overpower you, easily. He’s arrogant enough to, but he’s enjoying your irritability at the moment. 

His laugh makes you tick, makes you claw at the front of his slacks and unzip them to palm his hard cock. You slide down his briefs to swirl your tongue along his slit, tasting salt.

“Jesus,” Satoru moans, surprised.

You’ve barely started, but it’s easy for you to work your hand up and down his shaft because of how wet he already is. It would fill your chest with pride if you weren’t so pissed off with him. 

You choke on his length when he bucks his hips up. He mumbles an apology when he feels your hand grip his hip. His grunts spur you on, as do his praises, the growl of his words arousing you. Satoru tries to grab a fistful of your hair but you swat him away.

“Fuck,” he groans. “I can’t believe – shit – you’re sucking me off in public. What’s gotten into you?”

“You talk too much,” you mutter, sliding him out of your mouth and replacing it with your hands. You feel him twitch in your palms. He’s writhing – a young god underneath you. For once, you feel a little powerful.

“You little slut,” he hisses. “Fucked you so many times that I’ve completely defiled you.”

“God, I might just sit on your face to get you to shut the fuck up.”

He moans at that. He could flip you over and fuck you senseless with how strong he is, but he doesn’t care to. When your mouth latches onto his cock again, he doesn’t care about anything except your tongue.

When you squeeze the base of him tightly, Satoru fucking whines.

“Fuck, fuck– I’m so close. Wait, stop–”

He pulls at your hair but you continue, sloppily lapping at him with your hot tongue, making him shudder. 

“Baby, wanna be inside you–”

Too damn bad.

You can tell how close he is because of his inability to speak. Instead, it’s heavy breaths, chest rising and falling as he grips your hair harder than before. The sound of his groans makes your cunt ache. 

“Oh, fuck–”

And then you let go of him. 

He stares at you in disbelief. Something surges inside him – a flame. It isn’t exactly anger. Perhaps something more devious. He really wants to ruin you now. 

Your mouth is red and raw. You blink at Satoru, half-expecting him to lash out. In his own way, he does, with his tongue down your throat and his hand around your neck. There’s a flash around you. When you open your eyes, you’re in his bed. 

You whine when he tugs your blouse down roughly, his teeth biting into your shoulder hard. Canines breaking skin. You’re all red for him, flushed and dripping. 

“Satoru!”

“Payback,” he mutters, before pushing you onto your side. His cock is still hard. It throbs against you as he slides it in between your thighs. He can feel you through your panties, how wet you are for him.

“I’m not mad at you for edging me,” he murmurs into your ear. He grips your hair like before, forcing your neck to stretch, all exposed for him. “Did you know I used to dream about you sucking me off outside like that? On school grounds?”

“You’re such a fucking pervert,” you rasp.

“Me?” he laughs. It feels unkind. “You’re the one who was gagging on my cock after ignoring me all day. How is that any sort of punishment?”

“Because I didn’t let you cum.” You grit your teeth.

“So mean,” he taunts. You squeal when he reaches underneath your skirt and presses a finger onto your sensitive clit, pinching. “I’ll make you cum. Might not let you stop cumming.”

He slides your panties to the side and fucks you with your back to his chest. Satoru intends to keep his promise, but he can’t exactly do that when he’s so fucking close. Your edging him had him riled up, a fever with aching limbs.

He splits you open like this. Deeper than usual, curiously, despite this being a recurrent position of yours. Satoru thinks about you ass up and face down, whining into the mattress. For now, he likes spooning you. It’s lazy and rough at the same time.

He holds out like he means to – makes you cum on his cock twice before he spills himself onto the backs of your thighs. You don’t let him kiss you once during it, your last form of protest. He settles himself by biting at your neck like a wolf taking a lamb. He eats your cunt for a while, too, licking up your sweetness down to the last drop until you’re begging him to stop.

When you both lay there in silence, Satoru thinks it’s odd how quiet you are. He thought that he fucked the attitude out of you by now, but when he turns his head to meet yours, you’re staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks.

He means the sex, so you shake your head. You aren’t sure what to make of the gaping cavern inside of your chest after it, though—still feeling separate from him despite being intertwined. 

“You could do anything you wanted to me and I think I’d let you.”

He’s quiet. He hates that hearing it turns him on because this isn’t pillow talk. He isn’t sure what it is.

“You like that, don’t you?” you ask softly. You turn to face him now, your eyes dim. 

He does. He wants to possess you, hold you in the palm of his hand so no one else can. So no one else will. But he doesn’t answer you, only swallows the lump in his throat.

“I like you,” Satoru breathes. He wants to keep you. He’s selfish like that.

“I like you, too, Satoru,” you say. 

You sound almost dejected. He doesn’t pry.