#but Ellie is a lil more curious now…

[nickorite]

Imagine if one of the others found Henry's timeline journal. I don't think they would poke around Henry's stuff without permission because they all trust each other, but maybe one of them finds it by accident and doesn't realize what it is until after starting to read it.

NO WAIT I LOVE THIS (if you don’t know what they’re referring to, they’re referring to this post)

This has DEF happened

Realistically, Henry’s timeline adventures are a bit too far fetched to be believable and Henry’s clever enough to have a solid excuse if anyone happens to snoop. Still, Ellie has her suspicions.

[yvesntul]

ellie williams x reader ࿐

thank u for 300

18+ minors dni, use of strap, pet names, smut literally idk the word count but it’s longer than my usual work

‘ ssss .. it feels— ellie .. please— ‘

‘ feels like what, hm ? tell me all about it .. ‘ the tone of ellie’s voice is soft enough to soothe you some more, but deep enough to bring you to unintentionally clench around her. your warm walls smothering her cock, and your eyes watching her move in and out of you as your chest heaves. ‘ feel so full, ‘ you babble and she hissed out a laugh. that’s when you spread your legs wider, feeling comfortable enough to get into the hang of it. you only found yourself suddenly wanting more.

‘ mhm, pussy’s eatin’ my fuckin’ dick up, isn’t she ? i know you’d feel so goddamn good .. ‘ ellie keeps her steady pace, delivering deep, slow, strokes to your cunt before sitting up to lightly massage your calves. she keeps eye contact with you, and even though yours refuse to keep their focus on hers, she doesn’t stop. she doesn’t stop losing herself in you, squeaking with every dirty line leaving her lips. your arms reach out to wrap themselves around her neck, and she easily picks up on your gesture. now hovering directly on top of you, balancing herself on one forearm while her opposite hand grips at the headboard above you, minimizing the weight of her body on yours.

‘ sh-shit— ouuu, ellie ! ‘ for a moment, there’s only silence in the room. besides your minimal breathing and ellie’s small groans that she failed to suppress were the only sounds that could be heard through an echo. both of you bask in one another’s presence while you let the tranquility of the moment steer you of to sea. ‘ h-harder, els .. please. ‘ you lightly tap her shoulder with your fingers to gather her attention, eyes batting rapidly as you try to keep consciousness from the amount of pleasure you were feeling right now.

‘ harder ? baby, you look like you can barely keep your eyes open, ‘ she laughs attentively, looking down at the droplets of sweat beginning to fall down the sides of your face. yeah, she was right, you could barely open your eyes, but you had enough strength to flutter them and give her an annoyed, yet needy, glance. a soft sigh escapes her lips and that’s when she seizes your request, pushing her strap further into you, as deep as it could go and then right back out again, a suckle being left behind. you whine — no, you scream, ‘ oouh— fuck, ellie, just like t-that .. ‘ almost loud enough to send a concerned expression to ellie’s face.

when you claw at her arm she soon realizes it was a scream of pure ecstasy. ‘ ah, shit. yeahyeahyeah, talk to me, baby. you’re takin’ it so fucking good .. ‘ her tone is taunting and well past just casual dirty talk. she was digging deep, verbally and physically, saying shit just to bring a reaction out of you, curious of what she could say and do to make you squirm and sniffle around her. ‘ greedy lil’ pussy. taking me in so easily, you’re bein’ so good to me, princess. ‘

‘ els— oh my god .. r-right there, right there, right there— shit, ellie ! ‘ her words had gone right over your head. too lost in the the way she dips her hips deep into your core to even dare to speak anything more than a string of moans. your lips form a pout, and your eyes roll to the back of your head when you suddenly feel ellie’s tip poking right at your g-spot. which, she proudly didn’t take very long to discover. you didn’t know it yet, but the constant pressure against your womb would be building up soon, creating a rather diabolical sensation for both your mind and body all in one.

‘ where ? right here ? ‘ the question is followed by a strong, but still conscious thrust. slow, yet powerful. ellie now driving herself into you right where you wanted her. ‘ awe, baby, did i find your spot ? like when my dick kisses you right here, don’t you ? ‘ you can’t speak, nor can you begin to fathom why on earth ellie was making you feel so lightheaded. disregarding the pleasure and the present circumstances, you felt alive. you felt like you couldn’t get this amount of euphoria from anything or anyone.

it wasn’t just the movement of her hips, or the nasty serenading words leaving her mouth, or even those angelic eyes that held an untold story. no no, it was the amount of emotion she brought you. the amount of love she’s shown you. the way she held you with such grace and tenderness like you were easy to shatter. it was all too surreal. the feeling, the gestures, the warmth, everything .. she was everything.

‘ faster ! faster, please els— y- you’re so deep .. ‘ you clench around her, your pussy sucking her in more and more as she continues to drive you into shambles. your eyes travel down, focusing on the way she had to pull in and out of you with more force than needed simply because of how hard you were squeezing her. with each passing thrust, you could see her tip poking at your tummy over and over, forming a bulge right below your belly button.

‘ aah, shhhit, gonna’ make me fuckin’ cum, b-baby. ‘ she nervously snickers, trying to hold on as much as she could, and god was it hard. with the friction against her, ellie could almost find herself becoming overwhelmed. there were too many things to focus on, between your expressions, lustrous eyes, and small grunts, she could cum right then as she spoke. ‘ o-oh, so close .. c-close, m’ so close els .. please let m-me cum with you .. ‘

your hands reach the sides of ellie’s face, carefully pulling her in closer for a kiss. you feel her meet you half way, closing the space between you both by kissing you like you were an an antidote she so desperately needed. she tugs on your bottom lip softly, closing her eyes and melting into you as she tries her hardest to bring you both to the finish line.‘ c’mon, baby, c’mon. cum with me— cum all over this dick angel, ‘ ellie unconsciously fastens her hips, sending strong, and now sloppy, thrusts to you. you feel her deep, deep in your stomach. so much that you feel the urge to push against her toned stomach due to the overwhelming power she had over your body, ‘ nah, don’t run. t-take it just how you were. i know you wanna’ let it go .. ‘

‘ ellie .. i’m cumming, baby .. i’m cumming— oh god .. ‘ your eyes slam shut and your swollen clit is caught by ellie’s thumb as she rubs circles over the agitated flesh. the wet squelching sound of your cunt was almost loud enough to drown out your moans as you find yourself shakily wetting up ellie’s strap, ‘ ellie ellie ellie, wai— mmph ! ‘ your legs stutter closed and she opens them right back up, only this time, grabbing onto your hips and fucking you at an angle to carry you all the way to the end.

you push your head back deep into the plushed pillow underneath your neck, bawling your fists as the commotion in your stomach is finally fulfilled. there are tears in your eyes, followed by desire and pleasure — not to mention the creamy noise of your pussy sucking in ellie’s dick with no problem. ‘ y-yyes .. yesyesyes— ellie ! ‘

she’s quiet, or rather focused, concentrating on your trembling figure while feeling her own orgasm begin to pool over rapidly, ‘ fuckin’ christ, ‘ she groans hoarsely, her hips bucking as she’s cumming. ellie’s body nearly smothers your own as she loses her balance, hugging you close as she finishes. she buries her head in the crevice between your neck and shoulder, onto your skin as she tries her best not to go limp.

‘ are you okay .. ? jesus .. yn that was— ‘

‘ so fucking good. ‘

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐘𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐋 | all rights reserved — do not modify, copy, or plagiarize any of my works.

[pedrospatch]

baby, i’m yours

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You remind Joel that you’re his.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION however she does wear Joel’s t-shirt and he semi lifts her onto a counter? sorta but not really? UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (Joel is in his 50’s but reader’s specific age is not mentioned). established relationship, sort of. consumption of food (if you are allergic to peanuts, i so sorry). angst, Joel and Ellie’s strained relationship is lightly implied, Joel is insecure, it’s implied reader did some horrible things in her past, reassurance, brief smut, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, consider it a quickie idk. apologies if i missed anything.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: this short lil thing has been sitting in my drafts forever. i finished it while i was in ireland and finally had the chance to sit down and do a quick edit and when i say it was quick, i flew through it so i could hop onto my next wip so please excuse any errors! here’s a spotify link to the song if anyone’s curious, it’s an oldie but a goodie although it may not be everyone’s cup of tea.

main masterlist l fic notifs

Joel rolls over in bed, his arm outstretched and seeking the warmth of your soft, naked body.

“Mmph,” a small, sleepy groan falls from his lips as his long, thick fingers feel around on your side of the bed—of his bed. Of course, you have your very own bedroom in the house you all had been placed in when you first arrived in Jackson. Your very own bed to sleep in is just down the hallway, but lately, you’ve been waking up beside him a lot more often than not, especially now that Ellie’s a bit older and she’s gone and made herself her own space out in the garage behind the house. Being under the same roof as Joel did those two more harm than it did good, and while you missed having her around, it was for the best.

“She’ll come around, Joel,” you’d assured him. “I know she will. She just needs a bit of time is all.”

“Hope you’re right, darlin’,” he had murmured sadly in response.

Still lost somewhere in between sleep and full consciousness, Joel continues feeling around for you, but all he finds are the wrinkled sheets, cold and abandoned. Confused, his eyes finally flutter open and with a painful protest from his sore, stiff back, he sits up, blinking furiously as he looks around the darkness of his bedroom. The door’s been left cracked open ever so slightly, and as his vision adjusts now that he’s fully awake, he notices the dim glow of the hallway light that’s peeking through into the room.

He turns and glances over at the old digital alarm clock perched on his nightstand, the obnoxious, bright red numbers practically screaming at him that it’s a quarter past midnight. With a small, tired grunt, Joel switches on the lamp beside the clock and swings his legs over the side of the mattress, goosebumps erupting across his flesh the instant that his bare feet meet the cold, hardwood floor. He stands and fumbles around for his clothes, which he’d tossed carelessly somewhere over his shoulder hours earlier when he’d been lost in the heat of the moment with you. He finds his faded, navy blue sweatpants strewn across a chair next to the door and pulls them on over his naked lower body before searching for his t-shirt. When he doesn’t immediately see it, he doesn’t bother, figuring that it’s just going to come back off when he climbs back into bed with you.

Padding out of his bedroom, he makes his way down the hallway, heading towards the staircase. As he draws closer, he hears it—the soft music that’s coming from downstairs.

Baby, I'm yours

and I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky

yours until the rivers all run dry

in other words, until I die

He’s led towards the kitchen and that’s where he finds you.

Joel wants to be annoyed. 

Fuck, he tries to be annoyed. But he can’t help the way that the corners of his mouth threaten to turn upwards when his eyes take in the sight before him.

You’re standing at the center island slowly swaying your hips from side to side along to the beat of the song that’s playing from the record player perched next to the instant coffee maker on the counter behind you. He’d nearly wrung your neck when he found out what all you had traded just to get your hands on it, but you loved that thing more than life itself it seemed, so he couldn’t stay mad for very long. You’re making yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—the peanut butter you’d learned how to make yourself with the old food processor he found deep in one of the kitchen cabinets, and the strawberry preserves you had picked up from the market earlier that week. Clad in nothing but his t-shirt, you’re singing along quietly to the lyrics as you finish making your late night snack.

Baby, I’m yours

and I’ll be yours until the sun no longer shines

yours until the poets run out of rhyme

in other words, until the end of time

Joel leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he watches you carefully lick the remnants of peanut butter off of the knife you’re using before setting it down on the counter. You then pick up the two pieces of bread and slap them together—you’d also learned how to bake homemade bread using some old nineties cookbook you had found in the commune’s library. Your sourdough is the reason he had to go up a notch in his belt.

Sandwich in hand, you do a little spin, humming happily as you take your first bite.

Joel loudly clears his throat from the doorway.

Startled, you whirl around and freeze, your eyes wide.

“Enjoyin’ yourself there, darlin’?” He asks amusedly as he approaches you.

“Jesus Christ! You scared me, Joel!” You hiss at him. You then realize what time of night it is and a look of guilt crosses your features. “Oh shit. I’m sorry, did I wake you up? I honestly thought that I had the volume down low enough in here—”

Frowning, you turn around and reach towards the record player to turn the music off, but much to your surprise, Joel stops you. “No, s’okay. I woke up on my own,” he assures you. “I reached over for you and you were gone.” The admission slips before he can even think to stop it. He notices how taken aback you are by what he’d just said and quickly asks, “What’cha doin’ up so late, anyway?”

“I was hungry,” you tell him, sheepishly holding up your food. You always have one hell of an appetite after Joel was through fucking you senseless. You take another bite and offer it to him. “Want some?”

“Sure.”

He accepts and takes a corner of the sandwich before handing it back to you. His fingers brush against yours and his face burns at the contact.

Fucking Christ. 

You’re standing there in nothing but his fucking t-shirt after he had, yet again, made you his in his own fucking bed, and that’s what gets him?

Truth be told, the only time he holds your hand is when he’s inside of you—his fingers lace with your own as he comforts you and praises you for being such a good girl for taking his cock the way you do.

For being so, so fucking good for him.

He’s thought about taking your hand in front of others. Particularly when he notices the way some of the men in town stare at you. Joel wants to make it known that you’re already spoken for. Only, you’re not spoken for, not really. 

You’re his, but you’re not really his. It’s not that he doesn’t want to take the leap and acknowledge the two of you are far more than just patrol partners, far more than just two people who fought like fucking hell to get some smart assed teenager—and the world’s only hope for a cure—across the country.

He feels undeserving of it. Of you and your heart.

Several seasons had come and gone since you’d both arrived in Jackson with Ellie in tow, and somehow, Joel still can’t fathom what you’re doing by his side. She’s out of the house now and there’s nothing tying you to him, so why are you still here?

He’s so much older. Closer and closer to being on his way out, while you still had your entire life left ahead of you. He’s worn down, hardened from the post outbreak world. And you, you hadn’t lost any of your softness, your sweetness. Not even after the things you’d been forced to do to survive because of him.

You could meet someone younger, someone closer to your own age. You could marry, even start a family. You could be with someone who could give you a good life, the life you deserve.

The life that he’s too fucking broken to give you.

“Joel?” Your voice breaks into his thoughts. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. M’fine.” He gestures to the record player with a nod of his head. “Y’know, this song’s older than me. By a few years. Came out in the early sixties.”

Joel half expects you to make some wisecrack joke and tease him over his age like you have done in the past—especially when the kid would get you going. Instead, he watches you set what’s left of your sandwich down and brush the crumbs from your hands before holding one of them out to him.

Confused, he stares at it for a moment before his dark eyes meet yours. “What are you doin’?”

“Dance with me,” you say, smiling at him.

“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me, right?” When he realizes you’re being serious, he shakes his head. “Y’know I don’t—I can’t dance.”

Dropping your hand back down to your side, you turn around and flip the record, starting the song over again before whirling back around and taking Joel’s hands in yours.

“Just follow my lead,” you tell him as you place them on your waist. Your own hands settle themselves on his broad shoulders, his skin warm beneath your fingertips. “Don’t overthink it.”

“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous,” Joel grumbles underneath his breath, however he finds himself moving along with you without further protest. Subconsciously, he pulls you closer against him as the two of you slowly sway from side to side along to the beat of the music. He chuckles, “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”

“And your point is?” You rest your head on his shoulder and exhale a soft, contended sigh.

Joel’s lips threaten to pull down once more.

Could it be that you’re actually content with him?

Head still on his shoulder, you sing along softly with Barbara Lewis. 

“I’m gonna stay right here by your side

do my best to keep you satisfied

nothing in this world can drive me away

‘cause every day you'll hear me say…”

It quickly becomes too much for him. Joel’s hands leave your waist. Taking your wrists, he tugs your arms from around his neck and gently pushes you away from him. “Why?” he finally asks the question that’s been hanging off the tip of his tongue for the better part of the last three years. “Why me?”

You stare at him, puzzled. “What?”

“Why me?” he repeats himself. “Why me when you can have anyone else—”

Your reply is prompt and you say it so simply.

“Because I don’t want anyone else.”

“You deserve better.”

You peer at him curiously. “I deserve better?”

“You do. Ain’t got no business being with someone like me. After all the terrible shit I’ve done—”

“I did the same exact shit, Joel. Sometimes I did even fucking worse.” Somehow, softness laces your tone. You have never been angry with him and you weren’t about to start now. “What makes my hands any cleaner than yours?”

Joel begins to sputter. “M’older than you. Much older. Should’a been a lot more careful. Should’a done more so you didn’t have to do those things.”

His hands still curled around your wrists, you reach up and gingerly cradle the sides of his face. He winces, but then quickly melts into your touch, the very same touch that could heal his wounds, if only he would allow it.

“I made my own choices,” you remind him, quietly. Neither of you realize the music has stopped. “Quit acting like blood doesn’t stain my hands too because it does.”

His lips press into a tight line. “Blood stains your hands ‘cause of me. S’my fault. I was responsible for you. I was s’pposed to take care of you. I didn’t protect you the way I should’ve.”

You sigh.

“When are you going to stop blaming yourself, Joel?”

The muscle in his jaw ticks as it clenches. He averts his gaze, his eyes falling to the floor. He doesn’t answer.

You stroke the scruff of his beard lightly with your thumbs. “When are you going to stop thinking you’re not good enough for me? What’s it going to take for me to prove to you that you are all I could ever need and want?”

“You’re just wastin’ your fuckin’ life on me, darlin’. S’the truth and you fuckin’ know it as well as I do.”

Pulling your wrists out of his hands, you pivot on your heel and suck in a sharp breath, stubbornly blinking back the tears stinging your eyes. You’re frustrated.

It cuts you to your very core to know the man you’ve grown to love more than anything and anyone else on what’s left of this fucking planet can’t see that he’s enough. He’s more than enough.

Joel bites back his own frustrated sigh. He knows he can’t rely on you to tell him, rely on the reassurance—he needs to do his part and believe it. If he keeps trying to push you away, he just may very well succeed one day. He will lose you.

After a moment, he walks up behind you and wraps his arms around you, his lips lightly brushing your neck. “M’sorry,” he mumbles, his own voice thickening as a lump forms in the back of his throat. He’s quick to swallow it down. “Jus’ have a hard time believin’ you’re mine. S’almost like my mind is lookin’ to prove me wrong.”

“But I am yours, Joel. I’m yours, I’m fucking yours.”

It’s more than just reassurance. It’s an oath, one you’ll honor for the rest of your life.

He holds you tighter. “Yeah?” He nips at the delicate spot right below your ear, his teeth scraping along tender flesh. “S’that right, baby? You’re all mine?”

“All yours,” you confirm breathlessly as his hands slowly begin trailing down the length of your sides, his fingers skimming the hem of his t-shirt.

Joel swiftly turns you around in his arms and slips his hand between your thighs. The next thing you know, he has you backed up against the counter and he’s shoving his sweatpants down, freeing his hard, thick cock. With one of your legs hooked around his waist, he buries himself into the warmth of your cunt and begins to deliver smooth, languid strokes.

“Say it again, baby,” he rasps into your neck. He coaxes your other leg up and around his waist and his large hands curl securely underneath your thighs as he bucks up into you. He’d deal with the back pain later. He pants, “Need—need to hear you say it, my sweet girl.”

You hold onto the countertop behind you as he fucks you, your fingernails digging into the laminated wood. “Fuck, I’m yours,” you moan into his shoulder. “I’m all yours, Joel. Oh fuck—”

You say it over and over again and he believes it.

He finally fucking believes it.

Sweet nothings fall from his lips with each thrust.

“S’lucky you’re all fuckin’ mine.”

“My beautiful, beautiful girl.”

“Gonna keep you for the rest of my fuckin’ life.”

When he spills into you, there’s no regret on his part nor yours. You’d always wanted to feel him come inside of you—secretly, so did he. Joel’s deep, guttural groans bounce off of the kitchen walls as your pussy fills with him, with all of him, taking as much as it can before he begins leaking out of you and down the insides of your thighs.

“Jesus,” he exhales. He dips his head for a kiss. “You’re all messy now, baby,” he mumbles against your lips. “How’s about we go upstairs and get back into bed so I can clean you up?”

Giggling, you mimic him and remind him of what he’d said earlier. “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”

Joel grins. “And your point is?”

You laugh again as he leads you out of the kitchen and back up to his bedroom—to yours and his bedroom.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 0

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there. Some dialogue's taken directly from the English version's prologue.

This world, it’s full of despair.

It comes in different forms, both big and small.

Even so, it wears down on the mind all the same, and can even take lives.

(I’ve been searching for a way to fight against it)

--

Ellis: Thanks for queueing with me, Roger.

This morning, Ellis had asked me out of the blue to go with with him to a cafe that looked like something out of a picture book as a “favor”.

In a space that was full of women, Ellis and I drew curious glances.

Roger: So, what the hell is that “thing” making people queue up so early in the morning?

The cafe recently went through some renovations and the first 30 customers would get some kind of gift.

Ellis: A tin of biscuits. It’s something Harry wanted but since he’s on a mission, I came in his place.

Roger: Haha, so that’s it. Then I’ll give him my share too ‘cause having two will make him “happier” than having one.

The man sitting in front of me’s been busy making people happy today.

Ellis: By the way, I had some business at the pub yesterday and a woman asked me where Roger was. I gave her some excuse because I know you don’t like dealing with that kind of trouble.

I’m someone that doesn’t believe in romantic love.

It’s something that’s not scientifically proven. If “romantic love” does exist in this world, then…

(It’s a dysfunction of the brain or a misunderstanding caused by sexual desire)

Seems like Ellis knew me well.

Roger: You’re too good for Jude, you know. I’ll buy you drinks as thanks.

Ellis: Yippee. Ah, I think I’ll get something for Jude. I’m going to take a look around, okay?

Roger: Do what you want. Pick what would make Jude “happy”. 

As I watched Ellis make his way into the store with nimble steps—

(...Hm?)

I heard a voice cutting into this peaceful morning coming from the flower shop across the street

Flower shop owner: The delivery was delayed due to construction? Ha, how typical for a female postal workers.

I couldn’t see the face of the postwoman that was getting yelled at from here.

However, with my ears that let me pick up sounds 100 yards away, I could hear her heartbeat.

It was unsteady, probably because she was scared.

(“How typical for a female.” …What a bastard)

(If it escalates, I’ll step in—)

In the moment, her dignified voice rang out.

Kate: My sincerest apologies! I will be more careful in the future. For now, will you please accept this?

The man who was yelling is taken aback, likely feeling guilty after her apology.

Flower shop owner: Y-yeah… As long as you understand. Just be careful from now on.

I heard her let out a deep breath.

(So that postwoman’s someone that tries to be strong… Not bad)

Ellis: I’m back, Roger….Is something wrong?

Roger: No? Wow, you bought a lot?

Ellis: I wanted to get something for everyone. I’ll ask Victor to make tea and we can all have them together. Oh yeah, speaking of Victor…He said he has a mission for all of Crown.

Roger: Oh? Having us all together’s pretty rare. Could be an annoying one so let’s try not to get hurt.

--

Having said that, it ended without a single injury or incident.

—At least it was supposed to until an uninvited guest wandered in.

The woman standing there covered in blood, looking pale, was neither cursed nor a target. Just unlucky.

Jude: Tch…That’s why I toldja to lock the damn door!

Roger: Haha, well I didn’t think we’d have a trespasser! She’s a naughty lil’ thing, isn’t she?

My ears picked up an irregular heartbeat.

(...This sound. …No way)

—But that hunch soon came true.

The lil’ lady called Kate who stumbled upon Crown was presented to the palace’s grim reaper like a main dish.

(Now that she knows some classified info, she can’t leave without consequences)

(Worst case scenario, what waits for her is—)

Then, the lil’ lady in her hopeless situation spoke up with a dignified voice.

Kate: I swear I’ll never tell anyone about anything I just heard!

Victor: Hmm…Hm? What’s this?

Kate: I swear to protect your secret. I-I’m a letter carrier, and we’ve been trained to…maintain strict confidentiality!

Victor and William: …

Kate: If you think you can’t trust me, then go ahead and keep me under watch until you believe you can! I promise I’ll prove it.

A brave and logical proposal.

However, despite her demeanor, her heartbeat continued pounding in my ears.

The sound that didn’t match the attitude—it had me convinced.

(Ah…so she’s the postwoman from that time)

Her loud heartbeat gave away her true feelings.

(“Please don’t kill me”)

Among the anxiety was the strong desire to live and fight against despair.

(...Nice. This lil’ lady could be interesting)

I didn’t feel any sort of love or affection, but I felt this strange exhilaration in my heart.

So I thought—It'd be a shame to kill her.

(Come to think of it, at that time…)

I did “hear” her footsteps and heartbeat when she wandered in.

I could’ve made her avoid Crown.

(But I didn’t)

(Deep down, I was waiting for “something”...which is probably why I invited this heartbeat in)

I could imagine how angry this lil’ lady would be if she knew…

Victor: Well, well, what a good idea! I think we can actually make use of you. Accepted!

Kate: …Really?

Victor: Let’s see…All right, from today forward, you shall be Crown’s own personal…Fairytale Keeper!

Under the command of Victor, the Queen’s aide who controls Crown, enigmatic position of “Fairytale Keeper” was filled by Kate, saving her life.

Roger: Let’s try to get along this month, yeah?

Kate: Of course, Roger.

--

Ellis: Hey, Roger. Earlier, why did you look like you were having fun?

Roger: Earlier?

Ellis: When we were discussing whether or not to kill Kate.

(...This guy can really read people)

Roger: Well…I guess it’s ‘cause it’s been a while since I saw something interesting.

Ellis: Hehe, I see. Then… Would Kate being here overthrow your theory…and make you happier?

Basically he was asking if I’d fall in love with Kate and be happy.

Roger: Ellis, you’re aware of my curse…right?

Ellis: The double-crossing hunter from Snow White.

Roger: Right…The queen had ordered the hunter to bring her the heart of the detestable Snow White. But the hunter betrayed the queen by letting the girl go in the forest and instead, brought the queen a heart of an animal. After that, Snow White met a prince after her life was saved…And now here’s a question. Why do you think Snow White chose the prince instead of the hunter who saved her life?

Ellis: Huh?...I don’t know.

Roger: Because that’s just how it’s supposed to be. Because there’s supposed to be a happy ending.

Not to mention the fact that this is reality, not a fairy tale.

A man who doesn’t believe in love and a little robin who’ll leave after the month’s up—the relationship won’t develop into love or affection.

(...That’s what I think)

(But then why does my heart beat weirdly when I look at the lil’ lady?)

[elsweetheart]

mean!ellie — back for more.

🎀 u guys wanted more mean!bff!ellie so here she is ! wrote this half asleep so pls. she’s pretty mean in this one, but she loves you really. it’s a follow up from this drabble i wrote. not many warnings, just ellie bein a meanie. masturbation, ellie threatens to kill u but in a lighthearted way i swr… she also gets a lil forceful toward the end but in a sexy way that the reader has no problems with <3

she didn’t even say hi, just turned up at your door and started calling the shots. she atleast had the decency to act a little bashful about it, hands swinging by her sides awkwardly on your doorstep, brow cutely scrunched up a little in frustration.

“wanna see it again.” she quietly ordered, not hiding her gaze when it dropped down to your attire — just a tank top and pyjama shorts. you weren’t expecting her today, and now here she was on your doorstep.

“see what, els?” you tilt your head a little, which seems to frustrate her a little. you really make things difficult when you’re this fucking cute — your best friend thought. she shuffled impatiently, nodding inside.

“canyoujust— let me in? s’cold as shit.” she rolls her eyes and you instantly step aside, the chill of her body bringing a icy breeze over you as she passes you, shaking the snow off her jacket. your nipples harden beneath your tank top at the cold and she’s looking once again.

she rips her eyes away to nod in gesture to your bedroom, heading up and just expecting you to follow. you do, obedient as ever.

standing in front of her now, she gazed at your bed. made and neat, your stuffed animals that usually made her scoff piled up at the pillows. “wanna… see you fuck the pillow again.” she shrugs like it’s nothing and you stare at her wide eyes.

“uh—” you falter, wide eyed, hating how quickly you felt arousal seeping into you at just the thought of getting off infront of her again. the memory of last time a ghost in your panties.

“just… show me.” she interrupts, an impatient bite to her voice. anything for els, you think as you nod — clambering on the bed with doe eyes, looking back at her for approval when you reach for a pillow. you go to straddle it when she speaks. “take those off.” she sways on her feet, still standing by the bed with her backpack, eyes glued to your ass straining against the material of your pyjamas.

“‘kay, els.” you nod, so submissive — as always. you feel heat rise to your cheeks but you push through it, eager to please her. rolling onto your back, you peel your panties off, giving ellie a view of your pretty pussy.

“fuck.” was all she said, and it was enough to encourage you on, feeling more wetness seep out despite only having entertained the idea of performing for ellie once more for a minute or so. you fold the pillow, taking a shaky breath in as you straddle it.

your hips twitch against it, and you’re hyper aware of her silent stare. was she judging? was she curious? did she just wanna push you to see how far you’d go again? in your head, you whimpered — trying to readjust yourself and shake your nerves.

“what?” she deadpanned, knowing you like the back of her hand. on the inside, she panicked a little — fearing she made you uncomfortable or scared. when you didn’t respond, the panic flared up worse. “what?” she repeat, eyes widening a little more as her arms came up by her sides.

“just… why do you wanna see?” you pout, insecurity written across your face.

“because it was fucking sexy, okay?” she rolled her eyes, hating that she was blowing her cover. she had really hauled ass through the snow to your house just because she wanted to see you, and hear your pretty moans again. she watched your expression soften, confidence built a little and she went back to her mean old self, waving a hand. “so get to it? didn’t come over here for nothing.” she stuffed her hands in her pockets, seemingly unfazed by the fact she was stood in the middle of your room watching you hump a pillow.

her meanness sparked arousal in your cunt and your breath hitched, brows furrowing as you softly moved your slit against the material, the fabric rolling up to your clit. as you got more and more lost in the pleasure, ellie began circling around you — wanting to see from different angles. you honestly thought she looked cute, a curious expression as she leant forward, licking her lips when your hips would stutter or you’d whine a little louder— but she wasn’t saying anything, not giving you anything to use as material apart from her presence.

“ellie.” you moan, still being soft as you can as you grind on the pillow shyly. your minuscule hip movements had somehow rendered you close to orgasm, you just needed something to tip you over the edge. “please talk t’me. need your voice.” you whimper, embarrassed tears behind your eyes.

“you need my voice?” she deadpans, falling into your trap.

“mhm, m—makes me… mmph.” you cut yourself off, deciding you still had the brain power to keep yourself from admitting something embarrassing.

“makes you what?” she crossed her arms, stepping closer to the bed.

“makes me horny.” you flush all over, clit throbbing at the soft brushes of the pillow. she chuckles, shaking her head almost disapprovingly.

“doesn’t take much does it?” she snarks. “you want me to tell you how pretty you look huh? you know you look fucking pretty, s’why i’m here. was dying to see you get off for fucks sake.” she rasps, and you whimper in response— thighs clenching. she was so composed, and you was losing your composure by the second, the contrast making you unbelievably close. you close your eyes, squeezing them shut like you’re concentrating hard on getting to your orgasm and she pities you just a bit, feeding you just a little more to help you along. “…you’re good too, aren’t you? always do what i say. i don’t think normal best friends do this shit. letting me watch you make that pretty little pussy talk.” she observed, the position you were humping in causing your cunt to part with each small roll of your hips, the wetness creating a sound that made her wanna strap you ‘til you cried. all in good time, she thought. had to break you first.

“glad i’m the only one who gets to see you like this. shit, i swear if you told me you did this for anyone else i’d kill them and then you.” she comment casually, but the lighthearted threat was what sent you over the edge. you suddenly fell forward, movements becoming stuttered and uneven as you suddenly got a whole lot louder, eyelashes dampening as you came— pussy catching the light with its new sheen. ellie watched in awe, going over what she just said in her mind and wondering why the hell that was what made you cum.

you collapsed forward a little more, eyes still closed as you pant — catching your breath after the orgasm that was still dying in your stomach and trailing out your cunt. her voice broke through the whirring white noise in your ears, grounding you. “thats what did it for you? me threatening to kill someone over you? or was it me threatening to kill you?” you don’t dare look at her, hearing the shit-eating smirk in her voice. “‘was wasn’t it… that’s sick baby.”

you feel your pussy twitch at the nickname, and as if she read your mind — she spoke again.

“again. c’mon, you can make more noise than that this time.”

“k—kay. just… just give me a second. m’sensitive n’i need to—” she cut your shaky excuse off when you heard her march up behind her with an irritated tsk, the dip of her weight in the mattress behind you before you felt her strong hands on either one of your ass cheeks. you gasped as you started aggressively rocking you on the pillow.

“like this. see. s’not hard, you’re just bein’ a big fuckin’ baby about it.” she pushed you harder, making you roll your pathetic, throbbing cunt into the firm rolled up pillow and you sobbed — the delicious pain morphing into pleasure.

“els— please!” you cried and her hands rose to your waist, continuing to help your movements.

“oh whatever, cry all you want i know you like this.” she muttered, focused on abusing your pretty pussy.

she wasn’t wrong.

[tightjeansjavi]

Slow Hands | Joel Miller x f! reader

Chapter 1 “Cuppa Love”

A/N: I breezed through this chapter in a matter of hours 🫠 I’m so beyond stoked for this little story and I hope it can end up providing all the soft Joel feels that we love ♡

~word count: 3.5k~

Summary: Joel Miller thinks that your coffee shop in Jackson is a bit too “frivolous” for his taste until Tommy tells him one day that it’s the best cup of coffee that he’ll ever have. Little does he know..he’s going to get more than just a cup of coffee when he finally meets you. You soon find out that the grumpy old man with a rambunctious teenager, is hiding sugar sweet softness under layers of hardness.

Warnings: some angst, Joel is struggling to adjust to living a domestic life, anxiety, feeling like an outcast, grumpy old man! Joel, shy! Joel, kinda mean! Joel, sunshine reader, flirting, fluff, awkward situations, reminiscing on the past, alluding to death/loss but no description, reader has no physical descriptions and is from Texas, reader has a nickname (beanie bc y’know coffee beans) no age gap, overall light chapter, vulgar language, +18 minors dni!

Joel Miller in your eyes was aloof, a tad bit on the grumpier side, never really smiling, always with a furrowed brow and a grunt under his breath. He was an old, grumpy man as Tommy Miller first described his older brother to you. That was the first time Joel Miller and his adopted kid, Ellie Williams rode into town one snowy afternoon.

You watched curiously from your coffee shop window at the sight of Tommy hugging his brother for his first time in years. It was a sight for sore eyes to say the least. By the time you gathered enough courage to introduce yourself, it was too late. Joel and Ellie were gone by the morning and you had missed your opportunity..or so you thought.

The following spring, Joel and Ellie had returned. From where? Well..that wasn’t disclosed to you. From spring to fall you’d catch Joel walking past your coffee shop every morning. His eyes would flit up to the old sign that swung calmly in a passing breeze. He’d shake his head, mutter under his breath before continuing down the street. You’d secretly hoped that he would stop in for a cup of coffee one of these days. Why? Well, you were curious. Curious about the old grumpy man that rarely shed a smile. You were curious on how he possibly took his coffee. (straight black) you imagined. No cream, or sugar as it didn’t seem like his cup of tea.

Presently, Joel was having a hard time adjusting to his new life. For over 20 years he was constantly living on the means to survive. There was no room for comfort or the little things in a post apocalyptic world; or so he had thought. Ellie was having a much smoother transition period into the domestic lifestyle. She was attending school now, working at the stables and she was making friends. Joel was happy for her, of course. After everything they had gone through together all he wanted was for his kid to be happy. Confusion would etch across his face anytime someone in town would smile in his direction or dare to even say good morning to him? He’d grunt out a goodmorning back followed by a painful forced smile.

Your little coffee shop in the middle of town absolutely plagued him. He’d walk by it every morning muttering under his breath about how frivolous your sign was. Cuppa Love how fucking cheesy was that? Not to mention, the sign above your shop had seen far better days, and the chipped wood, and peeling paint was grinding his gears to a painful level. Yet, despite the fresh and familiar scent of roasting coffee beans wafting through the cracked door, it was not enough to persuade him to take a peek inside.

Not yet at least.

“Have you met Beanie?” Tommy asked his brother in a casual conversation as they were riding back into town after being on patrol all morning.

“Who? N’What in the hell kinda name is that?” Joel gruffly asked as he looked over at his brother.

“She owns the ‘lil coffee shop tucked in the middle of town. She’s been here a few years, makes one mean cuppa joe. Honestly the best I’ve ever had since..well, you know.” He trailed off.

“That frivolous waste of space? Yeah, I walk past it every mornin.’ Doubt it’s the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had, Tommy. So, her name is Beanie? S’that like her nickname or somethin’?”

“It ain’t a waste of space! C’mon now. You gotta lighten up a little big brother. You don’t gotta be so up-tight all the goddamn time. How many times do I gotta say that you’n Ellie are safe. Y’know, I’ve had plenty of people come to me and say that you don’t even bother sayin’ goodmornin’ to them or nothin.’ There’s good people in this town, Joel. You can make friends if you—”

Joel cut him off with a low scoff under his breath. “Lighten up? I already told you, Tommy. It’s hard for me to go and adjust to..how I used to live because it ain’t even been all that long, and I still sleep with a goddamn shotgun under my bed, for Christ sakes. Sorry that your town folks don’t like the fact that I ain’t sayin’ goodmornin’ back. Didn’t realize it was such a crime.” He muttered the last bit with a heavy sigh.

Tommy reached his hand over and gently grasped his brother's shoulder, giving it a firm yet gentle squeeze. “Joel, I’m sorry if it’s comin’ across like I’m lecturin’ you or anythin’, it’s jus’ that I want you to feel comfortable n’happy here. I know that you and Ellie went through a lot, but there’s so many opportunities for you to start off fresh here, okay? Look, you don’t gotta go if you don’t want to, but just stop by Beanie’s shop and have a cup of coffee. I promise that you won’t regret it, and have I ever been wrong?”

Joel begrudgingly looked in his brother's direction. His brows furrowed, then softened as a sigh slipped past his parted lips. “I know you ain’t lecturin’ me. It’s just—it’s hard, Tommy. It’s hard tryin’ to jump into havin’ a normal life again. Ellie’s doin’ a hell of a lot better job than I am. Also think she may be avoidin’ me, but that’s a topic for another conversation. I guess there isn’t much harm n’me goin’ to this coffee shop. Can’t promise that I’m gonna like it.” His tone was softer now, nearly above a whisper because these were the genre of conversations that he dreaded having. Anything that had to do with feelings and emotions, Joel avoided like they were the plague. He had a hard enough time expressing himself as it is.

“I get it, Joel. Believe me. It took me months to not wake up on edge, to sleep without a rifle under my pillow. Maria was a big help of course, but I had to do a lot of growin’ on my own too. Baby steps, alright? You got me, Maria, and Ellie to help guide ya through this next chapter. You’re still my big brother after all.” He replied with a genuine smile smile on his face, one that had his eyes crinkle in the corners.

Joel found himself gently dropping his horse's reins around the withers before he was reaching over and pulling his brother into a one arm hug. “Yeah, you’re damn right that I’m your big brother, and you best not forget it.” Joel had cracked a hairline of a smile when Tommy had playfully pushed him away. “So, Beanie is uh..she’s nice I take it? Who the hell gave her that nickname?”

Tommy had an undeniable knowing smirk on his face as he lightly chuckled. “You’re lookin’ at him.” He stated proudly.

Joel rolled his eyes with an unenthusiastic shake of his head.

For the next week, Joel continued to stop right outside your shop’s door. He’d kick at the snow covered ground with the tip of his boot, look up directly at your sign, mutter under his breath and continue on his way. It wasn’t until one afternoon after coming back from patrol did Joel Miller finally make a proper appearance.

The bells that were tied to the side of the door jingled excitedly as Joel stepped inside. The first thing he noticed was the string lights glittering above and the rows and rows of handmade mugs just waiting for a customer to grab and cherish. The fire crackled calmly as Joel slipped his gloves off and nervously rubbed his hands together. “Uh—hello? Anyone in today?”

He thought about turning around and walking straight out the door until he heard the sounds of someone putzing around in the back area behind a curtain.

“Just a second honey and I’ll be right with ya!” You called from the back room. You had gotten yourself into quite a pickle with attempting to lift an god awful heavy bag of sugar onto the shelf above.

Honey?

Must be a southern thing. Was the first thing that popped into Joel’s head. Why else would you be calling a total stranger a pet name? Unless everyone around here had just truly gone completely soft in the head.

“Oh for fuck sakes! Who the hell decided that sugar was supposed to be THIS heavy!” You let out a frustrated grunt as the sack of sugar nearly tumbled out of your grip once more.

Joel raised a brow at the sound of your struggle. He glanced around, as if there was anyone else in your cozy little shop to help. He let out a frustrated sigh knowing that he was going to have to be the gentleman and help you out himself. “Y’need a hand back there? I got an extra pair.” No shit Sherlock.

“Congratulations.” You deadpanned.

Joel let out a quiet snort before stepping around the counter and pulled back the curtain to find your body nearly being crushed by the sack of sugar. Despite this, you had one hand outstretched in his direction for him to shake as your cheek was pressed against the burlap material. “Thank goodness someone decided to stroll in today. Pleased to meet you, I’m Beanie. Now, can you please give me a hand? You did say that you had an extra pair after all.”

Joel opted out on not shaking your hand. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to, it just looked like you were seconds from passing out and being murdered by a sack of sugar; so much for introductions.

The first thing you noticed about Joel Miller were his hands and how effortlessly he grasped the bag of sugar and lifted it onto the shelf above like it weighed nothing. You may, or may not have caught the way his broad muscles flexed from the motion, or the little stray curl that just simply wouldn’t stay put. He was handsome. Anyone with two working eyes could make that statement.

“Thank you kindly. Would have been an awful way to go..getting smothered by a sack of sugar was not on my bingo card for the afternoon.” You brightly smiled at your figurative savior.

Joel thought your smile was pretty. There was a certain lightness that was held within your eyes and—what? He just met you, and so far you were..quirky. As he nicely put it to his brother later that evening.

“S’no problem. I agree, it woulda been an awful fuckin’ way to go. It’s a miracle I was here to save ya.” He stifled a warm chuckle.

You wiped your hands along the colorful apron that you always wore as you ushered him back around the counter as you rested your elbows along the wooden surface. “So, coffees on the house just this once. Go on and grab any mug that you like honey, and then what’ll you be having?”

“Do you call all your customers honey?” He couldn’t help but ask as he observed the rows of handmade mugs dangling above him.

“Yeah! It’s kinda like my trademark. I’ve also found it makes people’s day around here when you call them something sweet. Y’know?”

“Ahh so it’s not just for your favorites or anythin’ like that?” He reached for the largest mug that had a brown tinted rim with an intricately painted owl on the front of the mug. Despite the size of the mug, Joel’s hands dwarfed it down immensely. His hands completely engulfed it as he set it along the counter.

“Everyone is worthy of a sweet nickname in my eyes. Oh, this is one of my favorites” You softly spoke as he set the mug down along the counter. “Forgot to mention that you’ll get to keep the mug as well. Just another token of kindness around here.”

Joel looked confused by your statement at first because well, he was still adjusting to strangers being kind for no other reason other than they just wanted to. “Well…wouldn’t you run out of ‘em?”

“No, you silly goose. I make them myself, and there’s plenty to go around I promise. I let all my customers take a mug home in hopes that they come back again for another cup of coffee whenever they’d like. They’re good conversation starters as well. Take this one for example, I painted this guy after seeing an owl in the stables one evening. He sat still for me the entire time, and it was almost as if he wanted me to paint him. Isn’t that so cool?”

“You make these yourself? Wow, you’re uh—you’re really talented, Beanie. I am quite fond of owls..that’s why I picked that one..” he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I make them all from scratch and then paint the details later. There’s one up there that I actually pressed flowers into the wet clay like a stencil and then painted in the petals and such after.”

“So, you’re like an artist then? I do a bit of wood workin’ myself. Ain’t all that good at it, but it’s a hobby that I guess I enjoy.” He wasn’t sure why he was finding it so easy to talk to you. The conversation just seemingly flowed between the two of you.

“Me? An artist? I suppose you could say that but I just do it for fun really..helps the time pass by and people seem to enjoy it so that’s just another bonus for me. I’m sure your wood sculptures are beautiful. It’s good to have a hobby like that.”

Joel nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, so uh—anyway I heard that this is the best..well, only place to get a cup of coffee in town. I’ve had a lot of coffee in my lifetime, so I am expectin’ the best. I’m a bit of a coffee snob, I'll admit it.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place because I am a bit of a coffee snob myself. So, what’ll you be having? I can make just about anything, which is pretty fucking incredible considering we’re living in a post apocalyptic world and all that. Least I can do is make a damn good cup of coffee.”

“As long as it’s better than that Starbucks crap that every goddamn person I knew used to eat up like it was fuckin’ gold or somethin.’” He chuckled. “Uh—just a latte would be good. I know, I don’t look like much of a latte man, but ya did say you could make jus’ about anythin’ so i’ll put that to the test.”

“I never understood the whole Starbucks hype myself. Not when there were perfectly good local coffee shops around but hey, to each their own right? Anyway, one latte coming right up!” You grabbed the mug from the counter gingerly before starting on his drink. He was of course naturally curious on where the hell you sourced your coffee beans. You must have been reading his mind or at that exact moment because you were answering his question before it ever left his brain.

“It’s amazing what you can find at old plant nurseries and greenhouses. You cannot believe the excitement on my face when I found a couple coffee plants at a nursery in Colorado. Maria lets me use part of the greenhouse for the plants and they surprisingly hold up pretty well in the winter.”

“Are you a mind reader now too?” He jokingly asked as he casually leaned against the countertop. “So, who gave you the nickname Beanie if you don’t mind me askin’? Does it stand for somethin’ or did it just stick?”

“Nah, I just have an incredible sense of intuition. Your brother Tommy so happened to have given me this nickname. It started off as the “latte girl” and then he started calling me Beanie because well, coffee beans. Then it just sorta stuck and now everyone that comes in here calls me that.”

“Ahh. Of course my brother gave you that nickname. Why am I not surprised? How long have you known him? I take it, you know who I am then? He’s got an awful big fuckin’ mouth that one.”

You had your back towards Joel as you were finishing up on his latte. Back before outbreak day, you owned a little coffee shop much like this one, in Austin Texas. The name of your shop was Cuppa Smiles, and it was like your baby. You were known for your cute little latte art that had your customers feeling extra special, even on the toughest days. Well, not every customer appreciated it…

“I’ve known your brother for a few years now Joel. I was found just on the outskirts of town in pretty rough shape. I thought I was toast when Tommy and Maria found me. Little did I know that I was about to be brought into this little slice of heaven. He actually told me a couple weeks ago that you’d probably be stopping in sometime. I’m glad that you did.” You had just finished your latte art that consisted of a heart with two eyes and a smiley face.

You presented the mug to him with a soft smile and as he looked down at the heart smiling up at him through a sea of cream colored foam, the realization suddenly dawned upon him that he had met you before. Back before the cordyceps took everything from him that he knew. Back before he slept with a rifle under his bed. Back before—

“You were the reason that I was always fuckin’ late to work!” He blurted out suddenly as if he was having an aha! Moment where the lightbulb was going off and yelling, ‘ding ding ding! We have a winner ladies and gentlemen!’

Confusion washed over your features at his sudden outburst as you looked between the mug and the broad man standing before you, trying to pinpoint if you had met Joel Miller before but how was that even possible…right?

“I’m..sorry? I don’t believe I understand what you’re talking about?” You looked at him as if he had suddenly sprouted five heads.

“I know you, I swear I know you because back in Austin there was this one fuckin’ barista that always was insisting on doin’ some silly little latte art on my coffee, and every goddamn time I was late to work, It was because of you!” He didn’t know whether to laugh or grow angry at his newfound realization. One thing was for sure, his mind was absolutely turned to dust.

You blinked and opened your mouth like a blubbering fish as Joel solidified the truth that you did in fact know one another in some capacity. You couldn’t help the feeling of your heart stinging a little at his comment about your silly latte art.

“Oh my god, you were that man always saying he was in a rush! I remember you’d fly into the shop with—”

“My daughter.” He finished the sentence for you with flushed cheeks that were rosy at the peaks of his cheekbones. His heart was nearly hammering out of his chest as the past he forced himself to let go of was suddenly coming rushing back to him.

“She liked the strawberry jelly filled donuts that we always had on display.” You tone lowered, sounding more like a soft whisper.

“She didn’t just like them, she loved those fuckin’ donuts.” His head dropped slightly as he took a deep breath. “M’sorry for yellin’ at you like that. It’s jus’ that you’re the first person I’m seein’ in over 20 years that’s from my past that isn’t my brother. It’s just—it’s a lot to process.”

“Joel, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for reacting like that, okay? It was a normal human response. You did look familiar but I didn’t put two and two together till you brought up the latte art. I’m sorry I made you late for work all those times. I guess I just never picked up just how much in a rush you were..”

He was looking up at you now through thick lashes and warm espresso colored eyes that seemed to have flecks of gold in them, depending on the light they were in. “S’okay. I kept comin’ back because the coffee was that good, and cause Sarah loved those donuts..she thought your latte art was anythin’ but silly.”

“Well, I hope this cup lives up to what Cuppa Smiles used to deliver.”

“There’s only one way to find out.” Joel remarked as he wrapped his hands around the steaming mug. He took a small sip and instantly felt like he was back at home in Texas. It was an early Sunday morning, the mourning dove cooed outside the billowing curtains, Sarah called for her dad downstairs in the kitchen, stating that breakfast was ready. His favorite mug, and babygirl were waiting for him in the warm early morning light.

“Holy shit. This is delicious! How the hell did you get it to taste so good?” Joel asked as he took another sip.

“It just takes a bit of sugar, and lots and lots of love.” You responded with a soft smile gracing your features.

Tag List: @cupofjoel @morning-star-joy @thetriumphantpanda @sinsofsummers @dinsdjrn @cavillscurls @kirsteng42 @korynnekorynne @yazsos @amanitacowboy @ilovepedro @pedrostories

Please comment if you’d like to be added to the tag-list! ♡

Chapter 2:

[alittlerobin]

Roger/Kate

tags: nsfw; oral, face-fucking, intercrural, dacryphilia, rough play word count: 2.3k

She stood outside the door to the lab, wringing her hands into her skirts as she worked up the nerve to go inside. 

Not like it mattered. She couldn’t just turn around and leave, because he’d already know she was there. She knew he always listened to her footsteps, to her heartbeat, knowing exactly when she approached and when she shied away. If she left now, she’d doubtlessly hear him calling out to her, that smooth and cocky voice telling her to stop fretting and get her butt inside. 

Squaring her shoulders, she pressed her hands against the door and pushed it open. There was no point knocking, anyway. Roger sat at his main lab table, his gaze trained on a thick stack of notes. He didn’t react, but he would’ve known she was coming to see him the moment her foot took the first step down into the basement. 

She crossed the room halfway, then stopped, staying out of reach. Except Roger didn’t look at her. He simply kept scribbling on the page, the pencil lead scratching the paper with each quick stroke. 

It was her choice to come here. Her choice to ask him for help. But… come on, couldn’t he catch the hint and let her off easy for once?

She huffed, cheeks puffed out and pouty… and was rewarded with a quiet chuckle.

“Need something, lil lady?”

Yes. She did.

She’d been stressed, frustrated. During the last mission, her mistake had gotten Jude stabbed. And no matter how much Ellis insisted it would’ve happened regardless, it didn’t help. She was definitely better now than when she’d joined Crown, stronger, more sensible, but… it wasn’t enough. She wanted to do more, help more, fight more—and when she failed, it made her angry with herself, with no real outlet for it.

“......I need to cry.”

The pencil dropped. “Oh.”

“But I can’t make myself cry, no matter what I try right now, so…” She kept her gaze down, watching the floor as she spoke, but she heard the scraping of the stool as Roger pushed it back. She didn’t need to look up to know he would be staring at her in anticipation. “...Will you make me cry?”

“And that’s already my reward for helping out, yeah?”

A small smile cracked the corners of her lips. He tried to play it off, but she didn’t need his ability to hear the hitch in his breath. “I’ll remind you that right now, you owe me a favor, not the other way around.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. She didn’t have to wait long. A moment later, his feet were on the floor before her and her chin was being lifted. 

Roger cradled her face in his large hands and stroked a thumb across her cheek. His touch was gentle, almost curious, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. “You wanna be more specific about how I can make you cry?”

She… couldn’t say it out loud. Even if she’d managed to bring herself here, she wasn’t sure if she could string those words together. If she could ask him outright, plead for him to be rough like always, to make it seem like he was taking what he wanted by force when they both knew how down bad they were for each other—even if they refused to bring that dirty little fact out into the open. 

She met his amber gaze straight on, body tense and lips pursed, but her determination unwavering. 

It only took a second for him to smirk and say, “Or do you want me to hazard a guess?”

As if he didn’t already know the answer. “You know... what I like.”

“Yeah, I sure as hell do.”

He didn’t waste time. One arm snaked around her waist, while his other hand jerked her in by the chin as he crashed their mouths together. Any leeway he usually gave her was gone, the sweetness of ill-advised under-the-fireworks kisses forsaken in lieu of teeth pulling on her lower lip and a tongue thrusting into her mouth. 

But that was exactly what she wanted. 

Her fingers curled against his vest, feeling the firm muscle beneath—and she shivered, knowing exactly how it felt to be pinned beneath his strong arms and broad chest, only ever pretending she didn’t want to give him everything. 

One of his hands traveled up her chest, palming one of her breasts and squeezing it. Another deep chuckle rumbled against her mouth, and he shifted his mouth away, pressing his lips to her ear instead. “No corset today? Thought you were a proper, decent woman.”

“Well…” She bit back a whimper as he pinched a nipple, pain sparking with pleasure. “I also know what you like…”

“You sure as hell do.” The echo of their words rolled warm against her ear, making her whole body shiver. His hand kneaded her breasts through the fabric of her blouse and his teeth tugged on her earlobe. She didn’t know how he did it, how he got her so wet so fast, already aching to feel his fingers inside her. 

Only he didn’t hitch up her skirts like he usually did.

Instead, he pushed her down, her skirts barely cushioning her knees as they hit the cold laboratory floor. Maybe she wasn’t good with getting the words out yet, but she could raise her hands, undoing the fastening of his pants as soon as he’d stripped off his belt. 

His cock sprang free, half-hard and already intimidating. His large hand wrapped around the base, giving it a few quick strokes as she parted her lips, tipping up to kiss it. The salt of his precum had barely hit her tongue before his hands were in her hair, twisting into the strands as he fucked into her mouth. 

He was so big and thick it made her jaw ache. His fingers tangled in her hair, gripping roughly, the pull almost there but not enough. Not enough to draw out the tears she wanted to spill. Not until he started to thrust into her mouth, fast and deep, pumping himself down her throat. 

It wasn’t the first time. She’d had him in her mouth before, after a night of a few too many drinks at his favorite pub. That night, he’d carried her up the castle stairs in his arms while she nuzzled her face in the side of his neck, inhaling the scent of beer, medicine, and a musk that was distinctly him. He’d set her down in her bed, but she was the one who’d refused to let go, who fumbled with his clothes and his belt and sucked him into her mouth before he could hiss out a warning. 

Roger had been gentle then, coaxing her with softly muttered encouragements. He’d stroked her hair gently and slid his hand to her throat, instructing her on how to relax it so she could take more and more of him in, until her nose nestled into the dark curls all the way at the hilt. 

But tonight, she didn’t want gentle and he wasn’t giving it to her. Her fingers gripped his thighs, bracing herself as she tried not to choke on each hard snap of his hips, a mist finally building in her eyes. 

Almost there…

That’s what she wanted. For him to use her, to be rough and domineering even while he groaned and muttered, “Good girl, just look at how good you take me. Came down here just to get on your knees and suck my cock like that, looking so blissed out even though I’ve barely touched you.”

Was that how she looked? Lips parted, eyes hazy, a blush burning across her cheeks? Enraptured to have his cock down her throat and his fists full of her hair, her mind and body pleading for anything he’d give her? 

Moaning, her lashes fluttered as she shifted, knowing that if she slid a hand between her thighs he’d just slap it away. She rested herself on the heel of her foot, just to put a bit of pressure against her aching cunt.  

That first night, after she’d swallowed thick ribbons of his cum, Roger had fucked her with four of his fingers, muffling each of her moans with kisses as he brought her to climax again and again. She had barely been able to get out of bed in the morning, body aching and thighs sore, her mind reeling from bad decisions. 

But it had been so good. And so, so, so good every time after. Every mission together, every late night in the lab, every hasty fumble when the stress grew too great and the need too tempting.

She arched her tongue and sucked as best she could as he sank himself deep, hitting the back of her throat with a bruising pace. A moment later, she heard him swear, his fingers leaving her hair as he pulled out. Roger hastily squeezed his fingers around the base of his cock, staving off his orgasm. 

Kate was about to object, to plead for him to cum in her mouth, on her face, whatever he wanted. Instead, he jerked her up to her feet and yanked her around, throwing her facedown onto his table. 

Glass shattered somewhere—perhaps a vial—but neither of them reacted. Roger bent over her, dwarfing her body with his. He flipped up her skirts and dragged down her underwear, rubbing the tip of his hard cock between her dripping wet folds. 

He wouldn’t—she knew he wouldn’t—but her stomach still tightened and her legs quivered as she mewled out a barely audible, “N-no…” 

She didn’t even mean it anymore. It was automatic, the faint protest now only a formality in whatever the hell it was they had going on between them. Because even as she said no, she pushed back against him, helping coat him in the slick nectar dripping down her thighs. 

“You sure?” His mouth was hot against her ear, voice low and deep. His hands took hold of her waist, keeping her bent over the table as he thrust his cock between her thighs. “Because I can hear how fast your heart’s beating right now, and I bet it’d beat even faster if I fucked right inside you. Fucked in nice and deep... Bet you’d like it fast and rough, till those pretty nails of yours carved into the wood cause you didn’t know if you wanna beg me to stop or take you even harder.” 

A moan spilled from her lips, picturing it as she rubbed herself onto him. The fat tip of his cock caught on her entrance, just at the brink. If she tipped herself back, he’d fill her just like he said. She wanted it, wanted to be stretched out on his thick cock, wanted it inside her, scoring her, molding her to its shape. 

“Don’t you want that, Kate?” His fingers tightened on her waist, bruising her skin, and he pushed—but instead of slipping inside, he slid between her folds. Her insides clenched, empty and wanting, practically screaming for him to claim her.

“N-no…”

“You sure? Cause I think you do.” He bucked hard, each thrust made easy by the nectar flowing out of her. His cock rubbed between her folds, catching her clit for a brief second, only enough to tease and drive her crazy. “I think you want me fucking you, filling you up till my cum drips down your thighs. I’d fuck you so good, fuck you till your legs gave out, and then I’d eat it out of you while you soaked my tongue, barely able to remember anything except how to moan my name.”

“Th-that…” Sounded so good. She could picture it, could see how he’d fold her in half and drive himself deep until she screamed his name and begged him to keep going. “Ahh, Roger, p-please—”

“Please what, huh?”

“Please… everything.”

She felt him lean down, brushing his lips across the nape of her neck, and then he forced her legs tighter together, fucking between them at brutal pace. Her hips dug into the edge of the table, pain blending with pleasure, and she gasped when she felt him spilling between her thighs. 

A second later, he’d flipped her over, throwing her legs over his shoulders. He hitched her higher, her spine arching as his mouth went straight to her cunt, two fingers plunging inside along with his tongue. She would’ve thrashed from the pure pleasure if the arm around her waist didn’t hold her steady, pushing her further onto his mouth. He fucked her open and sucked on her clit until she came, gasping and crying and squirting onto his tongue. 

It was so good, so fucking good all she could do was squirm, moaning his name again and again. Tears finally, finally spilled down her cheeks and she sobbed as he kept going. He ate her out, taking her from her first orgasm straight to the second. Her legs trembled, followed by her entire body until the pulses became so strong she had to grab fistfuls of his hair and force him away from her, clenching her legs shut as she shook with rapture. 

Roger handled her so easily, a smirk on his glistening lips as he set her down on the table and wrapped her in his arms. He pulled her close, kissing her mouth, then her face, seeking out his payment. The flat of his tongue swept across her skin, licking up every tear before he pressed two gentle kisses to each of her eyelids. 

"Feeling better?" 

Catching her breath, Kate nodded and draped her arms around his neck. She didn’t bother trying to let the tears stop. Instead, she let them flow freely as she buried her face in his neck and whispered a barely audible plea of, "...Again."

Dividers by @natimiles

[archiveikemen]

『Surprise Bag』 Story Sale: Prologue

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection and is not intended as replacement for official localisation. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Warnings and FAQ

Ever since becoming the Fairytale Keeper, I’ve built some level of resistance to unusual happenings.

However, despite that, some strange things that happen in Crown still manage to surpass my expectations.

…

“Jude” (Ellis): Good morning, Kate. I’m going to make you happy today too.

Kate: … Jude, uhh… did you suffer a blow to the head?

“Jude” (Ellis): Eh? I didn’t take any blows to anywhere, I’m feeling great.

Kate: What happened to your usual scumbag attitude?! Are you sick? Injured, perhaps? We must take you to the hospital at once!

“Ellis” (Jude): Tch, what’s the ruckus about?

“Jude” (Ellis): Oh, Jude.

“Jude” (Ellis): Huh? Why is Jude me?

“Ellis” (Jude): That’s my line. Why are YOU me?

Kate: W-What?

“Elbert” (Alfons): AHHA! This is getting awfully amusing.

Kate: Al… wait, Sir Elbert?!

Kate: Don’t tell me… the one behind you is Alfons?

“Alfons” (Elbert): … When I looked into the mirror, I saw that I turned into Al.

“Elbert” (Alfons): It’s interesting to look at myself objectively.

“Elbert” (Alfons): Oh, El. Please put in more energy when speaking. It’s disturbing to hear myself sound so depressed.

“Alfons” (Elbert): … Energy? … I’ll try.

“Alfons” (Elbert): … ahha.

“Elbert” (Alfons): It was a mistake on my part to expect energy from you.

Kate: Maybe, or not just maybe…

Kate: — Did Jude and Ellis, Alfons and Sir Elbert swap bodies!?

Kate: How did this happen…?

“Ellis” (Jude): Definitely that quack’s fault, I’m going to beat him up.

…

All members of Crown gathered to question Roger, who simply laughed at the situation.

Roger: My bad. I can’t believe it took effect this fast. Aren't I a genius?

Victor: Don't say such things, Roger! Why did such a cute… I mean, serious thing happen?

Liam: Victor, you’re exposing your inner thoughts. Also, your words and facial expression don’t match.

Roger: I was conducting research on whether a curse can be transferred if I swapped the bodies of a cursed person with a normal person.

William: Your insatiable inquisitive mind is truly eye opening, but shouldn't your test subjects be a cursed person and a normal person instead?

Roger: I thought it’d be dangerous if something were to happen to someone who isn’t cursed, so I decided to experiment on these guys first.

Harrison: What do you take us for? We die just like normal people.

“Elbert” (Alfons): Let’s drown that four-eyed musclehead in the River Thames.

“Ellis” (Jude): Yeah. Tie some stone weights onto him and plop him in to make it quick.

Kate: Wait, please don't say such unsettling things with Sir Elbert and Ellis’ faces!

“Jude” (Ellis): But Roger is so cool for being able to make a drug like this.

Liam: … Now Jude is being a softie. Goodness, this is chaos!

Roger: Relax. I’ll produce an antidote if you let me collect the data I need.

Roger: … If I can produce an antidote, that means I can experiment on the others too.

Harrison: … You just said something disturbing.

Roger: I said nothing.

“Elbert” (Alfons): I must say, you have no rights to be bargaining with us. Pardon my vulgar language, but please die.

Harrison: Woah, um… Liam? Oi, oi. — Is he asleep?

“Jude” (Ellis): I touched his head, sorry. I was curious to see if I can use Jude’s curse’s abilities.

Roger: Heh, the curse’s abilities remain in the body, huh. So I am a genius after all!

(This is getting out of hand…!)

Kate: Please give us the antidote immediately, Roger!

Kate: … Oh my goodness, what’s going to happen if this reaches Her Majesty's ears?

Roger: She might fire me for this.

Roger: … That’s why you should help keep an eye on them so word doesn't get out, lil lady.

Kate: Eh? Roger? Hey!

“Ellis” (Jude): Tch… useless. Getting fired just like that.

“Jude” (Ellis): Oh, Jude, body can’t take cig—

“Ellis” (Jude): *cough*... tastes like shit. Ellis, you need to train yourself to take at least ONE cigar.

“Elbert” (Alfons): I could get away with a lot of bad things with this face, don't you think?

Alfons: … Is this spoon beautiful, Kate?

Kate: T-This is driving me insane…!

I so badly wanted it to be some horrible april fools joke, but the scene unfolding before my eyes showed otherwise.

At that point in time, I still didn't know.

— To be continued.

[be-my-ally]

Do you mind?

This is pure, meet-cute, fluff where literally nothing happens. For the prompt - “Do you mind? I came here to get away from other people.” 

thanks to @whositmcwhatsit for the game + @thatbanditqueen for the prompt + @ellie-24 , @vintageshanny , @missmaywemeetagain + @from-memphis-with-love for the fun!!

I super stupidly got a lil bit confused with scheduling this post so ... it's uhh.... by my attempts at scheduling the post 13 hours early, but actually 11 hours late. many apologies folks.

It’s overwhelming - the noise, the people, the conversations. You just need five minutes to yourself, time to take a breather, and try and get yourself back together. You hadn’t known everyone was going to be bringing a partner, or a date, to this party; you’d managed to forgive Nancy for it, because she was the one picking you up (or rather Paul,  her date, was driving) but you had felt blindsided when the group was waiting outside, double the size you had expected since everyone had their plus ones. It was meant to be casual, the birthday party of Sharon’s brother - the perfect excuse for a get-together of people who were now all busy with their own lives. It was meant to have been a chance for you and your friends to catch up and have some fun; you’d all agreed to attend as a group - no partners. Worse than being blindsided as the only girl solo was how left-out you were feeling, it was just making you feel lonely. 

You make your way across the lobby, desperate to find somewhere quiet - away from the other event rooms, or guests. Build yourself back up to going in, stay for the toasts and leave politely after another half hour. You check the time on the large clock above the reception desk as you wander past; half past eleven. A pitiful time to be wanting to leave a party. You want to roll your eyes, internally berating yourself for being so overdramatic. You cringe as you think about how much you’re now looking forward to being tucked up in bed, cup of tea in hand, with perhaps one of the gossip magazines you’d picked up earlier in the week and how much you wished you could just skip this whole party.  It’s quite a large hotel, and there’s several reception and event rooms but eventually, on the other side of the lobby, you stumble into an empty and dark space; seemingly some sort of library/games room situation, judging from the bookshelves surrounding the walls.

You look around, seeing, in the barely-there dim light from the hallway that allowed the objects in the room to be just visible, a little couch nestled in a corner. You practically throw yourself onto it, burrowing your head into the cushion. Ugh, it had been frustrating, and ultimately overwhelming to have to continue to answer the exact same questions again and again from the other people at the party - the same two worded responses coming out of your mouth. 

Where was your boyfriend? Not here. Did you come with a date? Not today. Are you still ‘going’ with Daniel? Not anymore. Sorry to hear about your dad. Thank You. They almost all responded with a similar politely sad but evidently morbidly curious face; clearly desiring to know if your break-up had occurred before or after your father’s funeral, or wanting to know more details in general. It had almost been worse when the questions had ended and small-talk had resumed; relief at the chance to not have to explain your life, but annoyance that it was clearly only because word had spread about your situation. You kick your feet against the sofa cushions still feeling your upset rise again at the memory of being stood in your group of friends while everyone around you laughed about their wedding plans with no regard for the fact that most of them knew that you and Daniel had broken up almost a month ago. 

You reach out, fingertips knocking against something, before your fingers curl under the cushion. 

You scream into it, muffling the noise - as frustrated as you were it would be mortifying to be found like this. You relax for a second as you lose your breath, for some, potentially insane reason you can feel your annoyance lessening and your body starting to release the tension it had been holding. You ready yourself for another, 

But you’re distracted when you take another breath, ready to go again, by a faint cough in the opposite corner. 

“Do you mind?” Your head whirls around, noticing for the first time, a man sat in an armchair on the other side. You push the cushion you’d been screaming into back into its place as surreptitiously as possible, blushing at the idea that someone had just witnessed your behaviour. 

“I came here to get away from other people.” He says it in such a tone that you’re immediately annoyed again, who was he to speak to you like that? You scoff, nose wrinkling; 

“Huh? Well yeah, me too.” He makes a wordless harrumphing noise and you roll your eyes. “I have just as much of a right to be here as you do.”  He doesn’t respond - standing up and starting to walk over to the sofa. He walks through the streak of light shining across the floor from the window in the door and you quickly realise why his voice had seemed familiar. You blink, slightly dazed at seeing Elvis walking towards you, frantically sitting up and smoothing out your skirt; panicked voice in your head telling you to be calm, it’s ok, he’s just a man, don’t panic.

He plops himself down beside you, for a man claiming he was out here to get away from people he had clearly been desperate for company, leaning back against the cushions. He angles himself sideways to get a better look at you, and you tuck your legs up - deciding there was little point in pretending to be all prim and proper when he had just witnessed your miniature breakdown. It means you can sit sideways on the couch - examining his side profile. His hair is coiffed within an inch of its life and it immediately makes you want to muss it up, you wonder if he feels the relief you do when you can finally brush out your Elnett. You sit in silence for a moment, but you can’t resist for much longer than a couple of minutes. 

“What - What are you doing out here?” You glance at his fancy looking suit and tie, “You, uh, here for a party?” He shakes his head at your tentative questions, glancing over at you, 

“it’s a- uh benefit thing but it’s really just an excuse for everyone to hound me for somethin’ or other, half of the producers are in there… they want me to do more movies, I don’t know - I, I,  shouldn’t tell you this but I’m not happy with them at the moment and I-I want to go back to the music but…I don’t know.” You frown, having no idea how to respond to that, hesitating briefly before patting his arm gently. 

“Oh, that sounds awful - you should be able to do whatever you want to do.” He huffs a little laugh at that, staring across the room before turning back to you, 

“Anyway honey, what’s got you all screamin’ into that little pillow - what’d it ever do to you?” He smiles as you blush, you were still hoping that by some miracle he might not have noticed that - although you suppose a screaming girl flinging herself onto a sofa was pretty obvious. 

It sounds trivial and childish when you try to explain, especially in the face of his own, clearly much larger and important problems; “‘s just - I’ve had this difficult break up recently, and all my friends were gonna come to this party solo but they’ve, they’ve actually all brought their partners and I’m just, all on my own. I just, I didn’t want to come anyway but I definitely wouldn’t have agreed to come if I’d known!” 

“Pretty thing like you couldn’t get a date?” You blink at him, he’s turned the charm on full force and it feels almost a bit much to have his bright eyes focussed on you. 

“No-no it wasn’t like that,” You’re quick to deny that it was something you’d failed to do, “I didn’t know! They all told me we were coming together!” He laughs, a little cruelly, 

“And you believed ‘em?” You frowned, squirming a little - you had believed them, perhaps in sheer desperation to make it worthwhile leaving your house, or from the belief that they also wanted to spend time with you. You shrug, unsure what else to say, you wish you weren’t going home to an empty house, you wish you’d at least been able to have fun this evening, but it wasn’t like you’d be able to do anything about it now. You change the subject, 

“Tell me more about the movies, do you not like making them?” You tried to remember if you’d even been to see his latest release, but couldn’t even remember the name to suggest it wasn’t as bad as he thought. He looks pleased that you’re interested, and starts to chat away - explaining his reservations with the soundtracks, and filming methods. You are listening, but there’s something about his voice, and while you’re interested in what he’s telling you, fascinated by the glimpse into an industry so removed from your everyday life as he starts to go into the intricacies of his studio contracts you can feel your attention beginning to wane. Your eyes starting to drift close, and your head dipping towards his shoulder. A moment later his hand, somehow simultaneously heavy and delicate, brushes your shoulder, startling you out of your relaxed almost-asleep state. 

“C’mon honey, who’s gonna take you home? You got a car?” You blink, shaking your head, 

“No, no I’m uh, No, I got a ride here - It’s not far though,” You shrug, “I can get a cab, or walk.” He frowns at you, 

“You’re dead on your feet,” He looks at you sideways, as if assessing you for something, “I got a room upstairs, you can join me if you like?” You blink properly awake at that, a surge of anxiety rippling through you - as much as you’d want to you’re not ready for anything intimate again, too fragile. The idea of having to turn down Elvis though is sending your heart racing. 

“I don’t, I don’t know if I can, I haven’t, not with just anyone and my, my, boy-my ex-boyfriend he was uh, no I think I really ought to go home.” He nods, a little sadly, 

“Well that’s alright sweetheart, if you want, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea - just, just offering to, uh, sleep mama, that’s all.” He looks back at you, completely earnest, eyes wide, and you can feel yourself caving in, 

“Well alright then. But, no funny business.” He does a scout salute as he beams at you, and you giggle - relaxing again; you know you shouldn’t trust him, he’s still a man you’ve just met and yet he just gives off an air, that you somehow know you’ll be safe with him. 

Your nerves skyrocket as he pulls you by the hand into the elevator, you hope he can’t feel your anxiety through your clammy hands, and you wonder how it is that he was just able to sneak away so easily. He starts to talk in the confined space, you wonder if he can tell you were getting nervous, telling you,

“I’m not sure if it’s the same thing,” Looking a little nervous himself, “Because I haven’t - haven’t uh had a split, but I, I get lonely too. I just, just like having someone ‘round to uh, take care of… or take care of me.” He whispers it like a secret and your heart aches a little for him, but before you can respond the doors are opening and he’s pulling you down the hallway. It’s not that late so you don’t expect for him to immediately be directing you through to the bathroom, instructing you to get ready for bed, but you also can’t find the energy to protest. 

You’re glad, now you’re thinking about it, that you didn’t bother with too-much make up, as you inspect your face, hopeful that keeping it on throughout the night won’t make you break out too much. His voice though chimes in through the door - almost as if he could hear your thoughts; 

“There’s cold cream on the side there, honey.” You’re pleased, but also a little disconcerted - was that how many women he had over? Your eyes rove over the counter, seeing the little jar on the side, and you reach for it - before noticing the little stack of eyeliners and mascaras, oh, it’s for him. You hate that that makes you feel better - you shouldn’t be feeling jealous, he’d invited you up here to sleep, because it was convenient. Nothing else. 

You leave the bathroom, having taken the pins out of your hair and brushed it out, and face fresh from being washed to find him waiting for you. He had already gotten himself changed - monogrammed silk-satin pyjamas that looked almost too similar to something your father might have worn, it made you smile to yourself. You still couldn’t believe you were getting to see him like this. He motions you forward, 

“Let me take care of you, honey,” You frown, a little confused, until he’s turning you around to undo the waistband on your party dress, his fingers light over the zipper down your back. You clutch the dress to your chest as it starts to open down your back, still shy about showing off too much to him. You can’t help but shiver as you feel his hands on your bare skin; perhaps you’ve been touch starved since your break-up, it feels like an age since you’ve even had a fingertip brush across your body. You yelp a little when he tugs the dress down, pulling it off of your arms and away from your torso, pooling at your feet. He chuckles when you wrap an arm around yourself, embarrassed at your boring, old, bra slip and underwear, 

“S’ok baby, here put these on.” He hands you a soft cotton shirt, and you nibble your lip looking at him for a moment, before he playfully huffs and putting a hand over his eyes, “I won’t look, go on.” You hastily pull the slip off, quickly shrugging the shirt on.

“Ok, you can open your eyes again.” He looks over at you, smiling, clearly pleased with however you look. You feel like a child, but you honestly couldn’t care less. Instead you make the subconscious decision to lean into the warmth and coziness he was providing, clambering under the bedsheets he pulled back, fingering the EP adorned on your breast while you waited for him to come back from the bathroom. You’d only known him two hours and now you were feeling owned. It wasn’t, however, an unwelcome feeling, alarmingly domestic perhaps, worryingly forward but not unwelcome. 

When he returns he turns off the lights, climbing in behind you. You know you should be more reserved, more reluctant but you can’t find it in yourself to be instead curling into his body, his arms automatically coming around you. You can't help but hope that this might happen again as outlandish as it might seem. But if nothing else ever comes from it at least you can sleep happy that it had been worth your while leaving the house tonight, if only for the feel of his warm body against yours, and the knowledge of how his hair looks before he goes to bed.

…

[celestie0]

Girl I was balls deep in my attempt to make fanart for u a couple months ago

Like I had the reference pictures collated and I sat my ass down and picked up an pencil with the intention of actually drawing something after ages

cause basically I became a lil sad cause I felt like I forgot to draw bc last year in school I took an external art subject and it didn’t occur to me that doing a hands on subject through distance study wasn’t the brightest idea

anyway that fucked me over and led to me dropping and taking up fucking legal studies 😭

Even though I’m a bit more STEM based I can still fw the wordy subjects but not this someone pls save me why am I being assessed on the bi cameral structure of parliament

saur yh I’m super lazy as is with anything so that situation just put me off drawing and art completely

congrats to me setting every world record for yip yapping and going off track

ummm yh for context it was like my 10th read through of the kickoff chapter 6 scene that compelled me to collate a bunch of reference pics that ranged from twitter smut comics to bathroom sinks and eventually I gave up because anatomy is a bitch

I changed into a dress with the same type of neckline I think reader was wearing bc of the way it tucks under her boobies and I was this close to just shamelessly positioning myself in front of the mirror to make my own references

then ofc I got distracted by a half baked portrait of Rose from titanic that I drew when I was like 15 and ended up drawing a two hour long remake of the same picture

only for my friend to tell me it looks like Mary Shelly’s ghost

Should I know who that is

To be fair it looked nothing like her but I mean it was an improvement from thinking all my ability just went poof and I drew better when I was 15

never the less I was somewhat disappointed with the product and I haven’t drawn since

wait I wanna show u actually lemme try

https://share.icloud.com/photos/0edTRG9Tb54pRh9Qe5unszRrg

the Mary Shelly in question

do these links work I’m scared I’m gonna accidentally leak personal details or my whole camera roll lol

also IM NOT AN ARTIST don’t judge me peeps I’m just a girl idek how to drive yet

I feel bad every time I send an ask I feel like I’m force feeding u Ellie babes u have the patience and commitment of a saint

also OMG IF YOU MADE ART FOR ANY OF MY FICS I’D SOB!!!!

I want to 😞🫶 but alas prospect of fanart from me will most likely never see the light of day

that crack scene in ihm was tempting tho everything u write is just so visual

♥️ mwah my gorgeous gorgeous writer wifey

hellooo my dear PLS the ramble of this ask is legendary and i found it very entertaining xD

ouuu the dress that reader wears in ch6 of kickoff is actually based on a dress that i own, here's some pictures of it!! i'm curious if the dress you have is similar!! but yea this is the official outfit reference hahah

looking at it now it's kind of a mild sweetheart neckline lol n yea def tucks under the boobs very nicely xd i was actually gonna sell it on depop a couple months ago when i did a closet cleanout but i was like nahhh i gotta keep it bc it inspired that scene

taking your OWN reference pictures sounds so badass. and its ok babe it's the thought that counts haha <3 i feel u about the losing passion/talent in art thooo aaa i used to draw too but ehh hobbies fizzle

ahh i can't see the cloud photos :(( but anywho thanks for the yap my dear!! i ate it up. also side note but i'm so glad my writing comes off visual to you!! i always worry there's not enough description in my scenes so that's reassuring to hear. much love!

[storiesofsvu]

happy thursday hoes. time for some law and some order

Well fuck…what an opening..

“but there are definitely still traces of blood” girl… that hammer is COATED wtf…

I would like to point out that the way Kate runs her squad is the legit way that squads run. The CO (whether it be captain, lieutenant or sarge) is gonna stay in the office, they’re piled up with paperwork, the brass, putting out fires, they’re not out in the field…. Like svu. Ugh. I’m already not prepared for svu tonight, I’ve been watching through velasco’s eps and his older seasons were so good, esp compared to this year…

So we’re really doing this Ukraine surrogate/adoption plot line again, hey?

(I mean it is slightly different so far but like, it’s the same idea, right lol)

Samantha crushing it in the wardrobe dept as per usual

I like this new DA so much more than mccoy. Sorry not sorry.

I haven’t been paying too much attention to what’s going on (surprise) BUT, wtf does this case have to do with the grand jury that was taking place at the beg of the ep? With the girl all “he doesn’t know I’m here, right?” like, that girl was the murder vic? Or am I on crack? What is the connection?!

Uugggh… saaaammm my baby just needs a HUUUGGG

Okay, im actively not watching Toronto, see ya in an hour for svu.

Starting off with some personal, at home comfort. This is what we’ve been asking for forever (now give us rollisi at home pls).

OHHH GOD WHY ARE WE ALREADY BACK TO THE MADDIE SHIT FFS.

“I googled you”

Oh booooyyy are we in for it now. HOW MUCH DOES NOAH KNOW?! CAUSE LORD KNOWS HE PROBABLY FELL DOWN A PIT OF NEWS ARTICLES.

NO

WHY

WE DO NOT NEED TO BRING WL BACK TO THIS SHIT LET US HAVE SOME PEACE PLS.

Okay so we finally did get noah discovering where he came from. Woof.

Olivia kinda sucks at parenting sometimes. Like… he’s a kid, he’s an *adopted* kid who already knows about gramma Sheila and ellie… he’s gonna be curious, he’s gonna wonder, also what kid HASN’T snooped through their parents private things? Like yeah it’s not ideal… it’d be best for him to ask you a question and you slowly reveal into things or whatever but we all know she just would’ve shut him down right away anyways.

Lowkey love those heart lights in noahs room, ngl.

I’m not gonna lie. If it was olivia I’d be more concerned about him knowing/reading about William lewis and all the shit that went down than finding out johnny d was his dad…

You know what I think? I think this would be a great time to call you bestie amanda and have her over for a bottle of wine while you talk this through and see what jessie knows about her dad/how amanda’s gonna approach that. Also like, does billie just think sonny’s her dad or does she know? LOL. But will that happen? Obviously not.

Okay you know what, carisi is the second best bet so I’ll take this.

Olivia really needs to catch a fucking break

Carisi you sit like a whore. But we already knew that.

Is there not a way to trace this call? Or like, I know the phone is about to die but like…find my iphone even works on dead phones…use the stepmoms phone rn to find out where she is. Easy fix. Use your brains.

Man… parents on these shows are always so fucking trusting of their kids and they think they know everything about them. Like...what world are we living in?

Awweeee lil carisi back in cop mode!

Girl… you barely looked in that one, that’s not clear

Me: where do I know this actor playing the step mom from?

Checks imbd: ah. She’s been on svu as a diff character before. Of course.

We love a good parent who immediately offers up all their money to pay ransom of their kids bff with no question.

I swear to god it wasn’t raining 5 seconds ago.. I get that these are likely filmed on diff days but that really came outta nowhere

Olivia’s drenched and velasco’s barely wet… wtf lol

Oh god she’s really about to go feral isn’t she?  Like, even velasco’s nervous af.

That’s exactly what I knew he was gonna say. Like, liv should’ve just said she was dead.

Okay what about the other three perps? Where are they?

JESUS FUCK. Velasco… be mean to me. yell at me.. degrade me. jfc.

Okay I love that when she told Velasco to put the perp in her car he was all “uh… that a good idea boss?” kinda unsure thing but as soon as she started going feral he was just all “yup. Okay. I know how to do this.” And was totally on board. That’s my boi

“youre lucky im not in IAB anymore” damn right bitch.

That’s a cozy ass looking sweater liv has on and I want it

He already knows about ellie…why are we starting there?

I can’t wait until this conversation sparks a “hey… can we go see grama Sheila? Is she still sick?” and liv THEN has to explain that gramma Sheila is in fact in JAIL because she kidnapped him

Okay… that episode was honestly really good. It was a nice balance of the at home/personal lives and the case.

OC time.

Pls god have a last time on cause I do not remember what was happening… baby bro joe was doing heroine? That’s all I remember

Is this his apartment or elliots apt? it looks similar but also I like it better lol.

Bernie is a blessing to this show.

Elliot all “an intervention?” as if they didn’t host one for him like two years ago?

Also I JUST watched the ep with Muncy’s brother this week and that actor is baby boy joe stabler so this is throwing me off.

Is this an apt or a hotel? CAUSE ITS GORGEOUS!! HOW TF ARE THESE STABLER MEN AFFORDING THIS SHIT IN NYC?!

 “we don’t do that…” jet. Another fucking legend on this show

SO glad Bell’s back.

Clearly im not paying attention to this ep in case anyone’s wondering (and yes, it is because it’s a stabler ep…)

Leave it to stabler to be there less than 5 mins before beating someone

OH MY GODDDDD BELL LOOKS SO FUCKING GOOD IN THAT BLUE SHIRT

Thank god bell had bobby with her cause homegirl had a cane last week, there’d be no way she should be on a foot chase rn. Lol

Omg jet and bobby UC yet AGAIN. I fucking love it.

Jet being absolutely the person that likely annoys the hell outta her, love that. 

[outer-edges]

just finished reading your spiderverse tlou stories and I adored it! I'm so curious about the future stories in the series! Spare crumb about what other characters to expect? Henry? Riley?? Marlene???

ahhh omg thank u!!

i'm gonna be perfectly honest, i have NOT thought thru what roles henry, sam, and tess are going to play in this au, but i can tell you that their futures will most likely not be as bright and bubbly as the au has been thus far...bc ya know, what is being spiderman without a little tragedy?

i HAVE thought thru riley and marlene and i have been wanting to talk about this but haven't found the energy to start the fic so thank u because now i just get to talk about them here.

(throwing it under the cut because it got longer than i thought lol)

in this au, the fireflies are a group of vigilantes with a network spanning most of the major cities in the country, but the central cortex is in boston where marlene is the leader. i know as a concept that sounds very high super for this world, but it is very much like semi-ineffective small-time street level vigilantism that doesn't have too many members, nothing super organized or anything.

the fireflies move out of boston and to the vague 'out west' because the authorities have been hot on marlene's tail, and she and the other fireflies pack up and skedaddle shortly after ellie is bit by the spider and gets her powers.

trust. marlene and the fireflies will be back in the future, and they will cause some problems for joel and ellie. because. again. what is being spiderman without a little tragedy?

marlene's exact civilian identity is kind of up in the air (i.e. i can't decide if she has one or not) but in the initial outline she was both the leader of the fireflies and riley and ellie's social worker.

which brings us to riley...

like in the game, riley is another orphaned foster kid going to the same boarding school as her. they're roommates and best friends and maybe a something lil more, but they're both too scared to ever really address it or talk about it. marlene recruits riley for the fireflies young, and ellie disagrees and her and riley fight about it.

the night ellie gets her powers, she and riley have snuck out, and they're out doing some urban exploring when they end up in an old defunct science lab. while in the lab, they're both bit by the same genetically engineered spiders, but while ellie ends up with powers, riley ends up with a completely unknown degenerative disease. the doctors don't know how long it will take to kill her. could be decades, could be days.

but they don't ever really get the chance to find out. not too long after she's diagnosed with the disease, riley and ellie are caught up in an armed robbery. riley urges ellie to help, but she blows it off because even though a little part of her wants to help, she's scared and too self-preservational. riley jumps in to try and help even though she's brand new at this firefly thing, and she gets shot and killed.

riley's death is ellie's defining moment as spider-woman. this is what makes her put on the mask and start going out as spider-woman.

[cagedchoices]

Hiiii I'm really sorry to bother you but I noticed on your old blog you used to have a rule that said not to treat your character like Jesse Pinkman. I think I get why its a concern but I'm wondering why it doesn't say that anymore and also I'm curious to know about what you think the differences between Caleb and Jesse are

omg ok first of all bb, you are certainly not bothering me by asking questions. i appreciate being asked thank you 🥰

secondly uh, i removed that disclaimer from my rules bc i felt like i didn't really need it anymore. it does still apply but i really only had it up bc when i was still fairly new to writing caleb i would get a lot of anons making br.ba jokes. so naturally there would be a lot of people pretending to be fuckin walter white in my inbox trying to tell caleb "let's cook" and like "jesse stop screwing around with robots and get back to work" and shit and like. yeah it's a fun little joke. ONCE. 😬

when you're seeing it multiple times a day/week it loses charm real quick. so i decided to be kinda petty about it and be like 'y'all know that caleb is NOT jesse right?' and i did two things. i flat out stopped responding to br.ba anons and i added that warning to my rules. and it seemed like it worked! i stopped getting flooded and my inbox was allowed to know peace again. but like i said, i don't think i really need it anymore because it should just be kind of a given, right? i mean i'm sure this has happened to other people before and will continue to happen bc that's the internet and unfortunately some people have no concept of boundaries and others just struggle with understanding that they might be making someone uncomfortable without intending to.

but like. to think of a popular example which i'm sure has happened before and will surely happen in the future i just think of a mun who writes joel from the last of us and maybe they like using pedro pascal's portrayal and they enjoy using him as an fc. now imagine that rper getting an inbox filled with anon messages treating joel as totally indistinguishable from the mandalorian. telling him he's gotta go find grogu or asking him why he abandoned his son for ellie or something along those lines. there are some GLARING differences between joel miller and din djarin. they're clearly not the same character.

so it might be funny to the person sending the messages and they're probably just having fun like. i'm sure they don't mean anything bad by it. but lemme tell ya, it's not as much fun to the mun on the receiving end. and in my case it sent me into a lil bit of a writer crisis like 'oh fuck is caleb nichols just a carbon copy of jesse pinkman is that how other people i write with see him?? what can i do to make him stand apart and be different without pulling him away from westworld canon too much??'

so anyway that's the rant over with. to answer the second half of this, caleb and jesse are different people. they just are. they do have a lot in common ranging from appearance to basic personality traits to the way they use body language, but they aren't completely the same. they come from different backgrounds which were influenced by various different factors.

jesse is more creative, he's an artist at heart and he has an artist's mindset and that's a kind of freedom to him. he expresses himself mainly through aesthetics. he draws, he wears a colorful wardrobe that really makes him stand out, the first time walter tells him that cooking crystal is chemistry jesse argues back that it is art and he has his signature style and he resents that walt forces him to change it. the reason jesse got involved in the drug trade is predominantly because it's the one place he is allowed and encouraged to express himself freely through art.

caleb on the other hand, is a soldier and he has a soldier's mindset toward most things. he is/was for the most part content with being told what to do next, following orders, sticking to a game plan. he expresses himself mainly through acts of service in canon, particularly to family as we see with his mom in the hospital and when he leaves his wife and daughter behind to go try and put a stop to the war that's coming. he wants to help, he wants to keep everyone safe and the only way he really knows how to do that is to fight.

i'd also say that while jesse and caleb are both highly empathetic and sensitive to the feelings of others, caleb is more stoic about it. i'm not totally sure if that's just how he is naturally or if he's so wracked and troubled by traumatic experiences and was trained to swallow those emotions in the military or otherwise learned to shut down but like. where jesse is always emoting something and never just sitting completely still and blank, caleb seems more comfortable with staying quiet and not always necessarily showing what's on his mind at a given moment.

and there are or course many more things i can say about specific differences but i feel like i've made this post long enough and gone on a scattered tangent so like. i might explore it way more in depth at a later date. ❤️

[beej-hunnicutt]

Curious what Lincoln's lil off year (after hs b4 he enlisted) was like. I want to be like oh it could be cool, but then again. Much like he said when talking to Sammy, he was just doing the same stuff back then to now. And just like — 😭😭 oh right.

Though I'm sure him and Ellis could be a bit looser since not restricted to school. So them and Danny probably have more time to hang out. Especially chilling with Danny since you know he's up in Pointe Verdun. So that's fun.

[berniecranes]

Also I am so incredibly curious what the vibe was like when Lincoln came home. I feel like you can tell something is looming over all of them. It was something I haven't rlly thought too much about. But they have had to know something wrong could be happening. (This isn't blaming them; I mean do they have that like bad feeling in their gut. Something could and will go wrong, that's type of thing)

Ellis' talk about Sammy getting older, maybe not being here for much longer. While ominous yes, I wonder if Ellis was worried about what could happen to Sammy. As soon as Ellis could he's took the chance to bring up the issues they have been having, especially with kicking up to Sal. Though it went back to the Haitians, you know that was the over arching issue. Because 3 months is QUITE some time to fall behind on kicking up to the mob.

Not to mention Sammy's drunk(ish) talk about needing to handle his own issues. It feels just weird. Also that NOW he's mentioning it when Lincoln has said they've been doing this since before the war. But I really do wonder why didn't he have Ellis do this? His other men? I'm curious why it was saved for Lincoln to get them out of. Especially Ellis is SHOWING that he is trying to take responsibilities at least in running thing wise. He's trying to offer Sammy advice, hinted that he had his own ideas previously that were ignored.

And continuing one with Sammy's messages. The one of course at the celebration of the heist. When he has that little monologue of "Aint no one standing over me again." And how this marks 'real change.' What was his plan? What did he want to do. I know we can easily say he does not enjoy working for Sal because OBVIOUSLY. And would not work for him if he had any other choice. But that unfortunately will not change? Sal's mob is way larger and has more reach than Sammy's. I am just really curious what would have happened if the betrayal didn't happen.

Also, coming back to my point, did they know something was off the moment Sal walked it? They all seemed shocked to see him there. Could you feel the tension in the bar? Has all of the rockiness throughout the months prior feel like it's catching up to them?

Sorry this got a lil incoherent, my original point got kinda lost bc I ended up rambling 😭

[anothersebastianblog]

A curious showcase of hypocrisy btw, gfs are often are called extra pretty the first time they appear on the scene, then, during the rs, they suddenly become mid, and once they're done they become more beautiful again. Ellie was a supermodel early on, then became a dead eyed robot, now she's no threat so she's gorgeous again. The day Alejandra pics dropped people found one of her goog photoshoots at the beach, wearing white, and called her a real life mermaid, there were popular tweets admiring her beauty. During the rs it was constant mocking of her skin, hair, body. Nowadays the same people admit she looks great again. Makes you wonder whether it was ever actually about beauty, hmm. /

Ellie was never a super model...

Alejandra definitely looks a lil different now, when she was dating Seb she had a tummy, she looks really in shape now. and personally, before the controversy I said she was pretty, then I stopped liking him but I always said she was pretty. her attitude makes anyone ugly tho, so there's that. it's the same for Seb, lots of people who used to stan him and thirst over him are now saying that he's ugly when they'd post the most unhinged behavior

She probably works out more ahaha