#but it’s awful i'd rather go to work

[thehoneybus]

I got food poisoning

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 20 …

oh my gods chapter 20…

I am dead inside.

And somehow dying more per chapter.

Ow. THE NIGHTMARE DREAM SEQUENCE

"Do you know the story of the queen who walked through worlds?"

Seated on the mossy carpet of an ancient glen, one hand toying with the small white flowers strewn across it, Aelin shook her head.

In the towering oaks that formed a lattice over the clearing, small stars blinked and shimmered, as if they'd been snared by the branches themselves. Beyond them, bathing the forest with light bright enough to see by, a full moon had risen. All around them, faint, lilting singing floated on the warm summer air.

"It is a sad story," her aunt said, one corner of her red-painted mouth curling upward as she leaned back on her seat carved into a granite boulder. Her usual place, while they had these lessons, these long, peaceful chats deep into the balmy summer nights. "And an old one."

Aelin lifted an eyebrow. "Aren't I a little old for faerie stories?" She'd indeed just celebrated her twentieth birthday three days ago, in another clearing not too far from here. Half of Doranelle had come, it had seemed, and yet her mate had found a way to sneak her from the revelry. All the way to a secluded pool in the forest's heart. Her face still warmed to think of that moonlit swim, what Rowan had made her feel, how he'd worshipped her in the sun-warmed water.

Mate. The word was still a surprise. As it had been to arrive here at spring's end and see him beside her aunt's throne and simply know. And in the months since, their courting ... Aelin indeed blushed at the thought of it. What they'd done in that forest pool had been the culmination of those months. And an unleashing. The mating marks on her neck— and on Rowan's-proved it. She would not be returning to Terrasen alone when autumn arrived.

"No one is too old for faerie stories," her aunt said, faint smile growing. "And as you are part faerie yourself, I would think you'd have some interest in them."

Aelin smiled back, bowing her head. "Fair enough, Aunt."

Aunt wasn't entirely accurate, not with generations and millennia separating them, but it was the only thing the queen had suggested Aelin call her.

Maeve settled further into her seat. "Long ago, when the world was new, when there were no human kingdoms, when no wars had marred the earth, a young queen was born."

Aelin folded her legs beneath her, angling her head.

"She did not know she was a queen. Amongst her people, power was not inherited, but simply born. And as she grew, her strength rose with her. She found the land she dwelled in to be too small for that power. Too dark and cold and grim. She had gifts similar to many wielded by her kind, but she had been given more, her power a sharper, more intricate weapon-enough that she was different. Her people saw that power and bowed to it, and she ruled them.

"Word spread of her gifts, and three kings came to seek her hand. To form an alliance between their throne and the one she had built for herself, small as it might have been. For a time, she thought it would be the newness, the challenge that she had always craved. The three kings were brothers, each mighty in his own right, their power vast and terrifying. She picked the eldest among them, not for any particular skill or grace, but for his countless libraries. What she might learn in his lands, what she might do with her power ... It was that knowledge she craved, not the king himself."

A strange story. Aelin's brows rose, but her aunt continued on.

"So they were wed, and she left her small territory to join him in his castle. For a time, she was contented, both by her husband and the knowledge his home offered her. He and his two brothers were conquerors, and spent much of their time away, leashing new lands to their shared throne. She did not mind, not when it gave her freedom to learn as she would. But her husband's libraries contained knowledge even he did not realize was held within. Lore and wisdom from worlds long since turned to dust. She learned that there were indeed other worlds. Not the dark, blasted realm in which they lived, but worlds beyond that, living atop one another and never realizing it. Worlds where the sun was not a watery trickle through the ash-clouds, but a golden stream of warmth. Worlds where green existed. She had never heard of such a color. Green. Nor had she heard of blue-not the shade of sky that was described. She could not so much as picture it."

Aelin frowned. "A pitiful existence."

Maeve nodded grimly. "It was. And the more she read about these other worlds, where long-dead wayfarers had once roamed, the more she wanted to see them. To know the kiss of the sun on her face. To hear the morning songs of sparrows, the crying of gulls over the sea. The sea that, too, was foreign to her. An endless sprawl of water, with its own moods and hidden depths. All they had in her lands were shallow, murky lakes and half-dried streams. So while her husband and his two brothers were off waging yet another war, she began to ponder how she might find a way into one of those worlds. How she might leave."

"Is such a thing even possible?" Something nagged at her, as if it might indeed be true, but perhaps that was one of her own mother's tales, or even Marion's, tugging on her memory.

Maeve nodded. "It was. Using the very language of existence itself, doors might be opened, however briefly, between worlds. It was forbidden, outlawed long before her husband and his brothers were born. Once the last of the ancient wayfarers had died out, the paths between realms were sealed, their methods of world-walking lost with them. Or so all had thought. But deep in her husband's private library, she found the old spells. She began with small experiments. First, she opened a door to the realm of resting, to find one of those wayfarers and ask her how it was properly done." A knowing smile. "The wayfarer refused to tell her. So the queen began to teach herself. Opening and closing doors long since forgotten or sealed. Peering deep into the workings of the cosmos. Her own world became a cage. She grew tired of her husband's warring, his casual cruelty. And when he went away to war once again, the queen gathered her closest handmaidens, opened a door to a new world, and left the one she'd been born into."

"She left?" Aelin blurted. "She she just left her own world? Permanently?"

"It had never been her world, not really. She had been born to rule others."

"Where did she go?"

That smile grew a bit. "To a fair, lovely world. Where there was no war, no darkness. Not like that in which she had been born. She was made a queen there, too. Was able to hide herself within a new body so that none could know what she was beneath, so that even her own husband would not recognize her."

"Did he ever find her again?"

"No, though he looked. Found out all she'd learned, and taught it to himself and his brothers. They tore apart world after world to find her. And when they arrived at the world where she had made her new home, they did not know her. Even as they went to war, she did not reveal herself. She won, and two of the kings, her husband included, were banished back to their own world. The third remained trapped, his power nearly broken. He crawled off into the depths of the earth, and the victorious queen spent her long, long existence preparing for his return, preparing her people for it. For the three kings had gone beyond her methods of world-walking. They had found a way to permanently open a gate between worlds, and had made three keys to do so. To wield those keys was to control all worlds, to have the power of eternity in the palm of your hand. She wished to find them, only so she might possess the strength to banish any enemies, banish her husband's youngest brother back to his realm. To protect her new, lovely world. It was all she ever wanted: to dwell in peace, without the shadow of her past hunting her."

From far away, that ghost of memory pushed. As if she'd forgotten to douse a flame left burning in her room. "And did the queen find the keys?"

Maeve's smile turned sad. "Do you think she did, Aelin?"

Aelin considered. So many of their chats, their lessons in this glen, held deeper puzzles, questions for her to work through, to help her when she one day took her throne, Rowan at her side.

As if she'd summoned him, the pine-and-snow scent of her mate filled the clearing. A rustle of wings, and there he was, perched in hawk form on one of the towering oaks. Her warrior-prince.

She smiled toward him, as she had for weeks now, when he'd come to escort her back to her rooms in the river palace. It was during those walks from forest to mist-shrouded city that she had come to know him, love him. More than she had ever loved anything.

Aelin again faced her aunt. "The queen was clever, and ambitious. I would think she could do anything, even find the keys."

"So you would believe. And yet they eluded her."

"Where did they go?"

Maeve's dark stare unwaveringly held hers.

"Where do you think they went?"

Aelin opened her mouth. "I think —

She blinked. Paused

Maeve's smile returned, soft and kind. As her aunt had been to her from the start. "Where do you think the keys are, Aelin?"

She opened her mouth once more. And again halted.

Like an invisible chain yanked her back. Silenced her.

Chain—a chain. She glanced down at her hands, her wrists. As if expecting them to be there.

She had never felt a shackle's bite in her life. And yet she stared at the empty place on her wrist where she could have sworn there was a scar. Only smooth, sun-kissed skin remained.

"If this world were at risk, if those three terrible kings threatened to destroy it, where would you go to find the keys?" Aelin looked up at her aunt.

Another world. There was another world Like a fragment of a dream, there was another world, and in it, she had a wrist with a scar on it. Had scars all over.

And her mate, perched overhead ... He had a tattoo down his face and neck and arm in that world. A sad story—his tattoo told a sad, awful story. About loss. Loss caused by a dark queen.

"Where are the keys hidden, Aelin?" That placid, loving smile remained on

Maeve's face. And yet ...

And yet.

"No," Aelin breathed

Something slithered in the depths of her aunt's stare. "No what?"

This wasn't her existence, her life. This place, these blissful months learning in Doranelle, finding her mate—Blood and sand and crashing waves.

"No."

Her voice was a thunderclap through the peaceful glen.

Aelin bared her teeth, fingers curling in the moss.

Maeve let out a soft laugh. Rowan flapped from the branches to land on the queen's upraised arm.

He didn't so much as fight it when she wrapped her thin white hands around his neck. And snapped it. Aelin screamed. Screamed, clutching at her chest, at the shredding mating bond—

She screamed again. Screamed at her ruined arm, the unscarred skin, screamed at the lingering echo of the severed mating bond.

"Do you know what pains me most, Aelin?" Maeve's words were soft as a lover's. "It's that you believe I'm the villain in this."

Whenever that had been. If it had even happened at all.

"I have no doubt that your mate or Elena or even Brannon himself filled your head with lies about what I'll do with the keys." Maeve ran a hand over the stone lip of the altar, right through her splattered blood and shards of bone. "I meant what I said. I like this world. I do not wish to destroy it. Only improve it. Imagine a realm where there is no hunger, no pain. Isn't that what you and your cohorts are fighting for? A better world?"

The words were a mockery. A mockery of what she'd promised so many. What she had promised Terrasen, and still owed it.

Aelin tried not to shift against the chains, against her broken arms, against the tight pressure pushing on her skin from the inside. A rising intensity along her bones, in her head. little more, every day.

Maeve heaved a small sigh. "I know what you think of me, Fire-Bringer. What you assume. But there are some truths that cannot be shared. Even for the keys." Yet the growing strain cracking within her, smothering the pain ... perhaps worse. Maeve cupped her cheek over the mask.

"The Queen Who Was Promised. I wish to save you from that sacrifice, offered up by a headstrong girl." A soft laugh. "I'd even let you have Rowan. The two of you here, together. While you and I work to save this world."

The words were lies. She knew it, though she couldn't quite remember where one truth ended and the lie began. If her mate had belonged to another before her. Been given away. Or had that been the nightmare?

Gods, the pressure in her body. Her blood.

You do not yield.

"You can feel it, even now," Maeve went on. "The urge of your body to say yes." Aelin opened her eyes, and confusion must have glittered there, because Maeve smiled. "Do you know what being encased in iron does to a magic-wielder? You wouldn't feel it immediately, but as time goes on ... your magic needs release, Aelin. That pressure is your magic screaming it wants you to come free of these chains and release the strain. Your very blood tells you to heed me."

Truth. Not the submission part, but the deepening pressure she knew would be worse than any pain from burnout. She'd felt it once, when plunging as far into her power as she'd ever gone.

That would be nothing compared to this.

"I am leaving for a few days," Maeve said.

Aelin stilled.

Maeve shook her head in a mockery of disappointment.

Fenrys sat by the wall, concern bright in his eyes as he blinked. Are you all right?

She blinked twice. No.

No, she was not anywhere near to all right.

Maeve had been waiting for this, waiting for this pressure to begin, worse than anything Cairn might do. And with the collar Maeve now went to personally retrieve … She couldn't let herself contemplate it. A more horrific form of slavery, one she might never escape, never be able to fight.

Not a breaking of the Fire-Bringer, but an erasure.

To take all she was, power and knowledge, and rip it from her. To have her trapped inside while she witnessed her own voice yield the location of the Wyrdkeys. Swear the blood oath to Maeve. Wholly submit to her.

Fenrys blinked four times. I am here, I am with you.

She answered in kind. I am here, I am with you.

Her magic surged, seeking a way out, filling the gaps between her breath and bones. She couldn't find room for it, couldn't do anything to soothe it.

You do not yield.

She focused on the words. On her mother's voice. Perhaps the magic would devour her from the inside before Maeve returned.

But she did not know how she'd endure it.

Endure another few days of this, let alone the next hour. To ease the strain, just a fraction ...

She shut down the thoughts that snaked into her mind. Her own or Maeve's, she didn't care.

Fenrys blinked again, the same message over and over. I am here, I am with you.

Aelin closed her eyes, praying for oblivion.

"Get up." A mockery of words she'd once heard.

[adore-gregor]

Lol I keep on doing this, saying I'd come back to tumblr to only disappear again 😂😭

[fanvoidkeith]

can i just. commit arson on every single company that uses indeed or any other job websites to try to get new hires

why yes, the job hunt is going badly. why do you ask?

[vraska-theunseen]

just remembered i'm going to be 20 this year can everyone give a moment of silence. teenager was so endless and it's going to be over before i know it this is my life and it's just flying by and i feel like im only ever just incidentally moving through life and like i'm never doing all i could be doing never feeling like i'm living my life the way i'd be living in it if i really cared but i don't want to try to change that bc rotting in bed is so appealing lol

[medicinemane]

Final thought, the cut off for any welfare program at minimum needs to be 150% of the poverty line (ie, the poverty like is $10 the cut off should be no lower than $15)

Cause the poverty line, one assumes, is the bare minimum we're saying everyone should be at, and surely welfare programs are supposed to be meant to help people below that

If you cut it off right at the line, then people aren't going to be able to get out of poverty, because any time they get close they're suddenly going to be on the hook for like $1000 or more between the various welfare they might be on, and honestly only a fool would push past that if pushing past it means falling back down again

150% at least means that they've got a chance that maybe now they're picking up the slack of all the stuff they're losing

[falling-endlessly]

Try Me

Vox x Female!Reader

Summary: You still have a few lessons to learn when it comes to teasing your boss.

Warnings: NSFW (18+), dub-con (kind of) INSPIRED BY THIS POST

Vox deserved a pat on the back for his patience. Truly.

You were relentless, hovering in his periphery, making him tense in anticipation for the next bullshit you were about to pull. First it was lingering touches on his hand when you brought him his coffee. Then it was bending over right in front of him in the conference room, enough for him to glimpse the pretty red and blue thong you were wearing underneath. But really, the cherry on top was the way you "accidentally" tripped on your heels, conveniently falling into him. One manicured hand dragged down his chest, the other down his thigh, right beside his straining cock as profuse, insincere apologies spilled from your lips.

Suffice to say, he was at his fucking limit. His self restraint was impressive, but not infinite.

"Mister Vox, where are we going?" You frowned questioningly as you scurried to keep up with his fast paces.

"A new office just opened up on the next floor," he hummed. "I figured you'd like to take a look at it before deciding if you want it."

"Oh, really? That's great!" You grinned, before it faded into a puzzled look. "But, why didn't you just tell me the room number? Not to pry, but you seem busy today, and I'd hate to distract you from your work."

Vox's smile strained, a low electric buzz emanating from his speakers. "Not to worry, my dear. I'd really rather show you myself."

You blinked innocently. "Well, if you insist."

He sent you a promising grin, but otherwise remained silent.

The walk to the "empty office" dragged on excruciatingly. Even if the whole floor was actually empty, he wanted to keep up with the facade you both were playing at, and not shove you into the first room with a door that he saw (even if he really, really wanted to) .

"Here we are," he announced cheerfully. The room was actually the most expansive one on the floor, completely furnished with a modern work station, a built in gas fireplace, and plush velvet couches. You barely took a step inside, eyes wide with awe, before he grabbed your neck, slamming you against the wall as he kicked the door closed with his foot. It locked automatically.

"Tell me, did you have fun?" He sneered, tightening his grip when you didn't respond immediately.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't—" you winced when he pressed closer, before choking out. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh really?" He smirked dangerously, eyes wide and unhinged, before a clawed hand travelled down your waist. The tearing sound of your clothes made you gasp, your torn skirt falling uselessly to the ground as he greedily inspected your underwear. A slender finger hooked under the waistband, before letting it snap back against your skin.

"Red and blue stripes," he snorted. "A coincidence?"

"Fuck you," you spat, but there was an excited glint in your eyes.

"Oh, you will," he chuckled darkly, before grabbing you and roughly forcing you to kneel beside the desk. He took a seat on the office chair, grinning wickedly as he spread his legs leisurely. "But you're going to have to earn it first, doll."

Your mouth watered, hands grasping greedily at his knees, before sliding up to his crotch. Vox groaned when you slid your fingers over the edges of his cock, just barely missing where he really wanted them. You repeated this action a few more times, watching with satisfaction as his brow twitched in mounting frustration, before he finally snapped, grabbing your chin harshly and forcing you to look up at him.

"Fuckin' tease," he growled, baring his teeth. "You're going to regret that." His voice took on a deeper, more electronic tone at the end of his sentence.

"Will I?" You smiled coyly, making his grin widen. Challenge accepted.

In one smooth motion, he unzipped his pants and dragged down his underwear, making his pulsing cock spring up from its confines. Vox grit his teeth when the open air hit it, overly sensitive from your constant teasing.

You stared at it with wide eyes, mouth open as you took in the electric blue lines running up his shaft in a technological design, all leading to the weeping blue tip. Your warm breath puffed on the feverish skin, making him close his eyes in concentration, regulating his breathing.

"Something wrong, sir?" You asked innocently, and he almost busted on the spot from just that title alone. Here you were on your knees for him, and yet he was the one under your control. Oh, the irony.

"Not at all," he growled, fisting a handful of your hair at the back of your head, before shoving you forward onto his cock.

And holy fuck, the way you opened your mouth so obligingly, like you were waiting for this moment—like you'd practiced for it. He had to stab his own leg with his claws to control himself. Coppery blood ran down his skin in small rivulets.

You moaned deeply around his cock, the vibrations making him throw his head back with a gasp. "F-Fuck."

You glanced up at him knowingly, your pretty eyes batting at him as your lips slid up and down his dick. Then you swirled your tongue under his shaft, and wasn't that something. Vox let out a guttural sound that he didn't even know he was capable of, barely able to keep eye contact with you as he guided your head on his cock.

"Fuck, you're so hot," he panted, legs trembling with the effort not to cum. He needed to teach you a lesson, after all, and he couldn't do that with a limp dick.

Then, you did something that made his vision fucking white out. You started to swallow—and good god, he couldn't keep this up anymore.

He shoved you harshly off of his dick, your mouth leaving with a loud pop.

"Brat," he bared his teeth, before clawing violently at your shirt. The thin material didn't stand a chance, fluttering off in shredded ribbons. Then he ripped apart your bra, making your round tits bounce out. His jaw dropped a little as he stared at them, his cock twitching in longing. Fuck, was any part of you not perfect?

"Hey," you protested, glaring at him indignantly. "Those were expensive."

"I'll buy you ten more," he said distractedly, before pulling you up to stand. Your hands gripped the edges of his backrest, tits hovering inches from his face.

"I think it's time we give these," his hands came up to grip them, squeezing them playfully. "A little love, hm?"

To your amazement, a glowing blue tongue poked out of his mouth, curling around a pebbled bud. Your jaw dropped in ecstasy, unable to take your eyes off of the surreal view of Vox licking at your tits, red eyes flickering up to meet your half-lidded ones. You pushed closer in a silent plea for more.

"Ah, ah," Vox retracted his tongue, making you whimper from the loss. "Behave, or this stops now."

You nodded quickly, staring down at him pleadingly.

He let go of your tits, unsatisfied. "What was that? I couldn't hear you."

"Yes, I'll behave," you whispered desperately.

"Yes, what?" He sneered.

"Yes sir," you cried, moaning loudly when he grabbed a hold of your tits again, tugging you closer.

"Good girl," he grinned wickedly, before his tongue was generously laving over your tits, swirling attentively over your nipples.

"A-Ahhh," you sobbed, struggling to stay still as his hand squeezed and massaged your mounds.

"Thought you could tease me and get away with it? You fucking slut," he growled, harshly sucking a nipple into his mouth. He released it after a few moments, digging his claws into your flesh. "Or maybe, you wanted this to happen," he grinned knowingly, making you shiver. "Oh you did, didn't you?"

He grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you down so he could whisper in your ear, "Sweetheart, if you wanted me to split you open on my cock, all you had to do was ask."

Your breath hitched as he grabbed your hips, turning you around and shoving you onto the desk. "Hands above your head." He ordered firmly.

You obediently laid your palms flat on the surface, above your head. Your breath quickened in excitement as you felt his hands grab your ass, squeezing tightly and spreading your cheeks.

"Fuck," you heard him curse, before slender fingers crept between your thighs, rubbing gently. Your legs trembled as he easily slipped in a finger, pumping it a few times before slipping it out again.

Unable to hold back your curiosity, you turned back to look at him, only for your breath to stutter at the sight.

Vox had his eyes closed, long tongue swirling around his middle and index fingers like a lollipop. Your unmistakable slick dripped onto his tongue, and he greedily swallowed it with a contented sigh.

"Fucking delicious," he grinned, leering at your trembling form. "What, too much for you to handle?"

"Try me," you gasped, making his eye widen, electricity sparking from it.

"I'll make you beg for my cock," he laughed dangerously, before disappearing between your legs.

You barely had the chance to process what just happened, before a strangled scream left your lips, your hips shoving further into his mouth.

"Shhh babygirl," he pulled back, squeezing your ass gently. "Wouldn't want someone to hear, now would you?"

"No sir," you bit your lip, tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

"See? This is why you're my favorite," he chuckled, giving your pussy a rough pat. Then he replaced it with his warm tongue, and your eyes rolled back in your head.

He flicked it gently over your clit, pulling back to lather over your dripping hole, before circling back teasingly. You shuddered, tears freely streaming down your face as you moaned softly. A tight pressure was building in your stomach, growing closer and closer to snapping the more attention he showered you in.

"V-Vox," you gasped out. "I—I'm gonna—"

He pulled away abruptly, making you whimper pitifully. Your hips canted towards him desperately, trying to chase your high, but he only moved back.

"What, did you think I was going to let you cum on my face?" He laughed mockingly, digging his claws into your ass. "After what you did today? Not a chance."

He pressed you further into the desk, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "Nah, a bitch like you needs to be taught a lesson."

Your mouth fell open as he pushed into you in one smooth motion, the ridges of his cock stretching you out painfully as he settled in deep.

"You're going to learn what happens when you misbehave," he punctuated his sentence with a hard thrust, making you choke. "You should be happy I have so much patience, or I would have fucked you right there on the conference table in front of everyone."

The mental image of him fucking you shamelessly in public made you moan, your hips wiggling further onto his cock. He growled, hands sliding up to hold your wrists down.

And then he started pounding into you. And you screamed.

"What's wrong? That pretty little mouth got nothing to say now?" He panted, gritting his teeth as he closed his eyes. "Where did all of that fight go, hm?"

"F-Fu—ahn—you!"

"Sweetheart, I'm balls deep inside of you right now," he rolled his hips to prove his statement.  "Try again."

"V-Vox, please!" You sobbed, cheek pressing into the surface of the desk.

"Tell me what you need, babygirl," he grinned.

"I-I want to cum," you hiccuped, vision blurring from pleasure.

"Aw, do you? I don't know about that," his grin widened, claws tightening on your wrists. "Do you really deserve it?"

"Please sir," you begged, turning around to look at him tearfully. "Please let me cum on your cock."

His grin faltered at the pleading look in your eyes, his screen tinting red as his teeth clenched. "Fucking brat," he gritted out, before his pace sped up, a clawed hand reaching down to rub tight circles over your clit.

Your mouth fell open in a silent moan as your eyes crossed, his dick splitting you open just like he promised. The coil in your stomach built up once more, stretching tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, your vision going white as you shook uncontrollably.

"Vox!" You cried, waves of pleasure cresting in your stomach, intensified by the fact that he was still harshly pounding into you.

Vox's breath hitched at the feeling of your walls tightening around him, screen glitching in euphoria. His thrusts lost their steady rhythm, instead hammering into you erratically as he chased his own orgasm.

Vox's claws dug gouges into the desk as he groaned your name, hips stuttering as he spilled deep inside of you. You shivered weakly at the feeling of his thick, warm cum filling you up.

When he'd finally spent everything he had, Vox pulled out of you gently, making you both gasp at the feeling. You heard the sound of a nearby drawer opening, before a wad of Kleenex gently wiped you dry. When both of you were adequately cleaned, warm arms wrapped around you, pulling you against a comforting chest. He sat you both down in the office chair, pressing a loving kiss to the top of your head.

"So? Mister Vox," you glanced up at him teasingly. "How was that?"

"Pretty fucking hot, babe," he laughed, squeezing you tightly. "Seriously, great idea. But I'm picking the next one."

"Yeah, yeah," you snuggled deeper into his chest, yawning tiredly. "Do you want to watch a movie when we get back home? I saw this really cool thriller trailer yesterday and I think you'll like it."

Vox smiled gently at you, closing his eyes as he pulled you closer. "Sure doll, anything you want."

[tofics]

You Owe Me - Part 1

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Summary: Forced through circumstances out of your control to rely on Joel Miller, you end up traversing the country with him. You're not particularly enthralled with him, and neither is he with you - or so you think, until your period strikes, and you're practically bed-ridden. Or: Joel can't stop jerking off to you after he accidentally got a taste of your lips.

Warnings/tags: canon typical show/game violence, sort of dubious consent (reader gets kissed without being asked and only later agrees), age gap (reader is about ~25 years younger), enemies to lovers kind of, awful period + period cramps, jerking off, fluff

Word count: ~7.4k

Periods are not fun to begin with.

They're even less fun in a post-apocalyptic world, where sanitary products are hard to come by and more of a luxurious rarity than a given staple item in your average survivor's backpack.

You knew you were bound to begin your cycle eventually, and had you had more time, you'd probably have prepared yourself some way or the other. But, with the way things had gone in the past two weeks, you had not had any time to think about bodily functions beyond what your every day efforts demanded of you, and even that was hard to care for.

Ever since the night that you fled Boston's QZ, you hadn't had a proper night's rest, let alone a hearty meal to replenish your energy with. Your escape had been 'spontaneous' to say the least, a necessity brought upon by circumstances that you'd stumbled into rather than purposefully involved yourself in, and before you knew it, you were pointing your finger at Joel Miller, of all people in the world, hissing threats through gritted teeth about how he at least owed you this much if he was going to get you involved in his business without your consent and how you weren't gonna get hanged just because he'd dragged you into his bullshit.

Joel, of course, was not a man you could just point your finger at and demand things of, much less in a hissed tone, even less in the form of threats.

And yet, he'd smuggled you out of the city in a cloak-and-dagger-operation that same night, despite his hard glares and hushed warnings to keep your mouth shut. You'd been anything but prepared when he'd appeared at your side like a magician out of thin air. He'd laid his arm around your neck like a lover might on an evening stroll, but the gesture hadn't been kind, his arm too tight around your throat, pressing on your airway as he'd instructed you - commanded you - to follow him, like you'd have had any other choice with his arm wrapped around your neck like a boa constrictor, all the while a smile on his face that feigned nonchalance to possible onlookers. Nothing to see here, just two lovebirds on their way home after another long, hard day of work.

You'd shaken him off once the two of you were out of sight, ripped his arm off of your throat as you swiveled out of his headlock. "What the fuck, Joel," you'd hissed and he'd stared back at you with that same cold and hard look you knew him by. "Do you want out of the city or not?" His arms were crossed in front of his chest, his tone matching the iciness of his eyes. Your jaw tensed. The nerves of this guy. "The hell are you talking about?"

He scoffed like you were being dense. "Out. Flee the nest. Hit the damn road-" You cut him off with another pointed finger. "Don't be cute. I know what you mean. What I'm asking is, now?!" He eyed your finger like he was debating cutting it off if you jabbed it into his face one more time. His jaw ticked. "Yes, sweetheart, now." Your nostrils flared at the sarcastic tone of the nickname, but he gave you no time to interject. "Got tipped off. They're gonna do a raid tonight, hit everyone they know I'm involved with. Since you got all flustered about my - 'involvement' of yours-" "Oh, is that what you call that? Grabbing and kissing me out of the blue?" "-I figured I'd do you a solid by giving you a heads up," he talked over you, ignoring your comment entirely. You were seething. "Ever heard of a thing called 'consent', Joel?" He flicked his tongue, rolled his eyes. Clearly, he had no time to entertain your attitude. You didn't care. "It's when you ask someone if they wanna do something, and then only do it if they say yes. Now I know that concept might be a little hard to grasp for you-" You were slowly advancing on him, getting up all in his face, when his hand closed around your arm tightly. Your gaze fell down to his grip, your lower jaw pushing out slightly. His eyes flicked over your face like he was waiting for your next outburst. "Are you quite done? Cause we gotta go. Unless you'd like to stay and be questioned by FEDRA officers? I'm sure they'd be very interested in your lecture about consent." Joel's upper lip curled back in an ugly sarcastic smile.

And so you'd let him lead you through the city, begrudgingly at first and then bewildered when you realized you were heading in the opposite direction of your apartment. "What about my stuff?" He'd only shaken his head. "No time for that. We gotta go now. Got some backpacks waiting for us a couple blocks ahead."

He only realized you'd stopped walking when he was at least ten steps ahead. "You comin' or what?" You could tell by the tone in his voice that he was nearing the end of his patience, but as far as you were concerned, you were already at the end of yours. You didn't budge, just stared him down from where you stood, shooting icy daggers out of your eyes and your pursed lips quivering as insults swarmed in your head, all fighting to be let out at once. He looked back at you with dull disinterest in his eyes. "By all means, take your time. Ain't like we're on a clock here or somethin'."

"Oh, you son-of-a-bitch, you ignorant little cock-sucker, you absolute blithering idiot-" The stream of affronts sputtered out of you. Joel quickly closed the distance between the two of you and forcefully grabbed you by the arm, dragging you with him once more. "Walk and talk, yeah?," he said over your flood of offences, the jabs seemingly rolling off of him like water droplets against plastic. You kept up your clamor all the way down the next block, until he dragged you into yet another side-alley to avoid a group of FEDRA soldiers marching past.

The two of you stood closer together than both you and him would have liked. If it hadn't been for the parade of soldiers walking past you, you might've scratched his eyes out, something you made sure to convey with your eyes as you stared him down in silence. His indifference only fueled your rage. "Do you have any idea what you're asking of me?" You hissed at him when most of the parade had passed by. Joel wondered if he'd ever hear your normal tone-of-voice. "Come again?" He cocked his head. "The way I recall it, you asked me to get you out of the city, not the other way around. Now who's imposin' on who?"

He saw it coming before it was looming in his face again. That damn finger of yours, pointed right at his nose once more. His lips pursed, his hand twitched on the handle of the blade he kept concealed on his waist. Just one quick swipe. Your howls would likely attract the guards. Not worth it. Yet.

"We're only in this predicament because you couldn't keep your damn hands off of me!" You almost spat in his face, your voice all hoarse from trying to keep your shout down to a whisper. Your head looked like it was about to implode. Joel flicked his tongue again.

"You wanna discuss bygones again or you wanna get goin'? Time's not waitin' on us, sweetheart."

"Oufff." You growled in response, your finger so close to his face you'd take out an eye if he moved an inch in the wrong direction. "Get that thing out of my face," he finally snapped and smacked your hand down. "Now quit whinin'. You wanted out of the city, you're gettin' out of the city. Giddy up. Time's a' wastin'."

Without another look to check if you were following, he dipped out of the alleyway and marched down in the direction of his - your - first pit stop. You stood between the tight walls for another moment, breathing heavily. If FEDRA hadn't been breathing down your neck, you would've turned around on your heels and sent Joel off to whatever miserable adventure he was about to embark on, but alas, he'd made his miserable adventure yours against your will. You cursed under your breath, then hurried after him.

"All I'm saying is, what about my shit? You think I don't have any sentimentals at home? Necessities? Stuff I wanted to bring when I left?" You whispered to him as you kept up with his pace beside him. It could've been your imagination, but the people out on the street looked more hurried than usual. Something was definitely in the air. Joel's tip-off likely had been right. Something was brewing.

"You win some, you lose some," came his sullen reply, paired with a shrug. You had to stuff your comeback back down your throat as the two of you filed into the crowd of people heading home, hurried steps and hard, concerned faces all around you.

Escaping hadn't been easy. Every single guard had been on high-alert. It seemed that the tip-off must've come out - the number of guards had been tripled, and you and Joel had a hard time going by undetected, despite the added benefit of nighttime and the rain that had picked up, muffling your steps as you hurried from dark corner to dark corner.

The Firefly attack took him as much by surprise as it did you and the soldiers. The booming sound of an explosion just a few hundred feet ahead made you flinch and Joel instinctively pulled you down with him. Rubble rained down on the two of you, crashing into the muddied floor just inches besides you. You gasped and flinched away, losing your halt on all fours, but a strong arm caught you around the middle before you could slump to the ground. "Let's go," Joel urged in your ear and dragged you up to your feet in one swift motion.

Shouts erupted around you from all sides, then got droned out as FEDRA's sirens kicked up. You scrambled after Joel as he evaded spotlights that swiveled across the floor from all directions, keeping the two of you safely tucked away in the few shadows that remained. Smoke burned in your nose and lungs as you sprinted from safe haven to safe haven. Loud cracks cut through the uproar of your surroundings, accompanied by deep thudding sounds as more rubble fell to the floor. The fire from the explosion site was now spreading out, slowly licking at buildings in its path. Many of the decrepit structures quickly crumbled away under the heat, porous and unstable to begin with.

It was disorienting, frightening. For the first time in over a week, you were glad for Joel Miller. If it hadn't been for him, you wouldn't have made it out of the chaos alive.

Granted, if it hadn't been for him, you wouldn't have been in this mess in the first place, but he kept his word and got you out.

You'd never meant to stay with him, but as things would have it, you weren't presented with much of a choice in that either. You made it out of the city just fine, save for a few jump scares along the road, but then ran into a hoard of infected that had been attracted by the ruckus of the explosion, just a few miles outside of the quarantine zone.

How you made it through that encounter alive, you didn't know, you just knew that Joel was a more-than-worthy asset in that debacle, as much as you hated to admit it. As if that hadn't been enough, you barely had one peaceful night before a group of raiders pulled through the section of outskirts where you and Joel had holed up for the night. It was an 'out of the frying pan and into the fire' kind of turn of events that kept you and Joel running and fighting for your lives for almost two weeks straight, stumbling from one disaster into the next, until finally, finally, you seemed to leave your losing streak behind.

It had now been three whole days since the two of you had found yourselves in mortal danger last, and though it felt almost wrong to be hopeful for a peaceful stretch of days, you couldn't help but be just that.

Until, of course, you felt that familiar sharp pull in your abdomen.

Crap.

"You didn't happen to pack anything female-related when you packed this, did you?," you asked as you rifled through the contents of your backpack. Well, Joel's backpack really, since it was the one he'd bestowed upon you the night of your escape. Your own backpack was still back in Boston, probably picked apart by FEDRA by now, along with all of your other belongings.

"Like what?" Joel was poking at the fire he'd set out to build. The flames wouldn't quite take, a few feeble blue streaks dancing between the twigs he'd collected.

"Like, I don't know, a pad, maybe? Tampons, if I'm allowed to dream?" You had almost emptied out the entire backpack now, and even though the contents you were bringing to light were certainly useful, none of them were what you were looking for.

Joel looked up, a kind of perplexed look on his face. You took in his facial expression and sighed. "I'll take that as a no. Crap." You slumped down on your butt in defeat. "That's gonna be a problem."

Joel scratched behind his ear, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "Yeah. Sorry, kiddo. Wasn't on my radar when I was packing." It could've been the dim light of the barely lit fire playing a trick on your eyes, but you could've sworn that some color rose in his cheeks. You just sighed once more and shrugged. "Eh, can't blame ya. Not something I'd expect to be on the mind of a..." You looked at him, eyebrow raised. "...something year old man."

He snorted. Sparks flew up from the twigs as he kept poking around. "Fifty-six," he said after a little while. "If you must know."

"Huh."

"What." He eyed you over the now growing flames. It looked like he was ready for you to pounce on him.

"Nothing." You raised your arms in defense. "Just... wouldn't have thought so. I just mean," you quickly added when you saw the expression on his face, "you've held up better than I would've thought. Jeez, relax. I'm not coming for your age."

"Right. Cause you ain't been jabbin' at me for just about anythin' else. S'cuse me if I'm just prepared."

"Cause you been jabbin' at me for just about anything else," you mocked under your breath. "And I got a right to. Need I remind you, I wouldn't be in this mess if-"

"-I hadn't dragged you into it." He interrupted you with a groan. "Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first trillion times. You ever gonna let it go?"

You scowled at him over the flames. "No." He quirked an eyebrow at you, and the exhausted apprehension on his face made you crack up. "Fine. Maybe. The jury's still out on that."

A day later, the sharp pull in your abdomen had grown into full-sized cramps, one of the four horsemen of your period riding in in full stride. You tried to ignore it as best as you could, but your period pains had always been on the worse side, sometimes leaving you crumpled into a ball on the floor. Your cramps could be debilitating, and a gnawing pit of worry formed in your stomach as the day went along.

Back in the QZ, you had your ways of coping: hot water bottles or hot potatoes wrapped in tinfoil tucked into a sweater so that their warmth radiated throughout your belly. There was even a bottle of emergency ibuprofen tucked away in a little secret corner of your bedroom. You longed for it now as the cramps begin to grow in intensity and longevity. You'd certainly planned to bring them along for your escape, but alas...

A groan escaped your lips as another cramp pulled on you from the inside. Your steps faltered and you leaned over for a moment with a hand pressed to your lower belly.

"Hey. You good?" Joel had been a few steps ahead of you, but he'd turned around at your groan. You'd been a trooper for the last two weeks, making him think more than once that getting you out hadn't been such a bad bet after all. You fought like hell, and when you weren't busy being mad at him, you followed orders quite well, especially when yours (or his) life depended on it.

Of course, he'd never say that out loud. You were still routinely giving him an earful about how he'd made you leave everything you owned behind, how you'd have had more time to properly prepare if he hadn't just dragged you into his mess, if he hadn't just kissed you that night-

You never missed a chance to remind him of all his wrongdoings, bickering on and on and on about the predicament you now found yourself in. As if he hadn't been the one to get you out. Sure, yeah, he did owe you as much after... having dragged you into his mess (his jaw clenched at the thought), but he'd paid his dues in full, as far as he was concerned. Hell, not only had he gotten you out in one piece, he'd even packed a whole get-away bag for you, survival essentials included. Had you thanked him for it? Certainly not. You hadn't complained about it either though, that was for sure, and Joel was certain that was about as much of a thanks as he was going to get from you.

You straightened, a somber and tight expression on your face as you nodded, but Joel could tell you were in more pain that you were letting on. Two weeks of fighting like crazy and just minutes of sleep to go on for days, and he hadn't heard a peep outta you. He had to give it to ya - you were tough, a fighter through and through. When you complained, it had nothing to do with where you slept, what you ate, who you fought. You just did it. He appreciated that quality in you. It made you a decent travel companion - if it wasn't for your bickering about everything else. That, he'd had decidedly enough of.

Today, though, you had been unusually quiet. You had yet to point an accusing finger at him, and though he could do without another finger pointed at his face for the rest of his life, he couldn't help but notice the change in your demeanor. Your pace was slower than the weeks before, even though you were now eating and sleeping better than you'd had in all previous fourteen days combined. Your movements seemed sluggish, almost lethargic, and you were hanging behind more often than not. This wasn't the first time you'd stopped either.

"We can rest for a moment, if you want." Joel gestured towards some trees on the side of the road. "Sit a moment in the shade. Catch our breath."

You looked like you were about to throw a snarky remark his way, but then you just nodded and trotted over to the patchy area of shade.

He sat down beside you with a groan, then stretched his aching legs out on the ground. Even if you thought he'd held up just fine, his legs certainly disagreed. If anything, they felt older than fifty-six. More like bordering on sixty.

Joel took a sip of his water, then nudged you with his elbow. You looked at him through hooded lids, exhaustion written all over your face. "Drink. Gotta stay hydrated."

Another wordless nod from you. No snarky comment. You got your own bottle out and gulped down a few sips.

"You sure you're good?" He eyed you carefully. There was a light sheen of sweat above your upper lip, some more pearls glistening on your forehead.

"I said as much, didn't I?"

Ah. There it was. Joel nodded. "There we go. Thought you were dyin' on me or somethin'."

You shot him a quizzical look.

"You haven't talked back to me all day. Was startin' to get worried," he shrugged with half a smile on his lips.

Your eyes narrowed at him. Joel Miller? Worried about you? Yeah, right. "What, you sweet on me or something, Miller?" A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Uh-huh. Glad to see you still got your wits about ya. C'mon." He got to his feet and dusted the dirt off his pants. "If you can jab, you can walk. Let's go."

You knew you had a couple of hours, maybe less, until hell's gates would open and the floods would come raining down your legs. Literally.

At least your periods were dependable that way, always following the same pattern.

Evening was fast approaching, and so was a town in the distance, just down the hill that you and Joel had just reached the top of. He raised a hand to his eyes, shielding his view from the evening sun that hung low on the horizon.

"Best bet is to go around it," he assessed, one hand on his hip. "No way to tell what's waitin' down there. Easier if we don't find out."

"Yeah, umh, about that."

He turned to you, a golden glow around the outline of his head. He looked like an angel. You blinked, cleared your throat.

"I need to find some cloth. Preferably clean, but anything will do, really. I know there's a spare shirt in my backpack, but I really don't want to cut it up..."

Joel frowned at you, visibly not understanding what you were getting at.

"Pads, Joel. I need to make pads. I'm about to start bleeding like a slit throat. I'm talkin' Niagara Falls."

He blinked, scratched behind his ear. "...right. Yeah. Okay."

It irked him that he hadn't thought of anything for your period. Granted, he hadn't had to deal with the topic in a long time, no woman in his life sticking around long enough (he made sure of that) that the topic could even come up. Still, he was a man who prided himself on being prepared, and he felt anything but as he helped you rummage through open and broken drawers to look for anything that might be useful.

You were tensing up more frequently now, pausing in whatever you were doing with shut eyes and a tight expression on your face. He knew what that meant, even if it had been a long time. You were cramping, and by the looks of it, quite hard.

Joel was irritated to find that he felt sorry for you. Though, no, that wasn't what irritated him. He may have been gruff and closed off on the outside, but he was still human after all, capable of empathy. What irritated him was the need he felt to alleviate your pain. More than once, he felt the urge to reach out and stroke your face, or worse even, to pull you into his arms into a comforting hug. Once, when your back was turned to him, he even saw his arm lifting on its own accord, and he had to bring it back down with his other hand before it made contact with you.

What the hell are you thinkin', he scolded himself. This ain't no more than a cargo run. She's cargo. Quit daydreamin'.

He scolded himself and then moved on, once, twice, thrice, until he had to tell himself off for the fourth time and he was beginning to get seriously pissed with himself. What was it with you that he kept thinkin' about touchin' you?

You were oblivious to his ordeal, having your own problems to deal with. You'd found some cloth that looked (and smelled) clean enough to be used as makeshift pads. Your hands made quick work of the fabric as you tore the old shirt into strips, then braided them into wider pieces until they roughly matched the length of the strip of fabric that connected the front of your panties to the back. Once that was done, you wrapped the braided piece fully around the bottom of a fresh pair of underwear, tying off the excess fabric when you had done so. It wasn't pretty, it was knobby and bound to be uncomfortable, but it was better than just wrapping pieces around the middle and hoping for the best. This way, you had a couple of layers underneath you, and if you didn't shuffle too much, the makeshift pad would perhaps stay in place. You sighed, inspecting your finished work. Behind you, Joel whistled. He sauntered over to inspect your work.

"Don't look too bad. You think this'll do?"

You eyed your handful of makeshift pads, a sorrowful look on your face. "It'll have to. But knowing my flow, I'll go through these in just a day - two, if I'm lucky..." Another wave of cramps tightened in your lower belly. You winced and leaned forward, one arm across your abdomen. A warm hand appeared on your shoulder.

"Tell you what. This town don't seem too dangerous. How 'bout we try and find a place here for tonight? Hm? Sleep in a real bed for a change?"

Joel didn't need to ask twice. You seemed more than relieved that your journey today would go no further than a couple of houses down the street, which was where you found a suitable candidate to spend the night in.

It had probably been a beautiful townhouse once, back in the day, complete with a white picket fence and a front- and backyard to show for. Now, though, the garden was overgrown, the fence was hanging in pieces, paint littering off its remaining poles, and the house itself looked sad and empty, as if it was mourning the loss of its previous inhabitants.

Unlike the rest of the houses on the street though, this building seemed to have all its walls intact. That, and the fact that your steps were getting slower by the minute, was enough for Joel to declare this house as your designated sleeping spot for the night.

The two of you did a quick sweep of each room, making sure everything was safe and sound. It was strange how quickly a routine could settle between two people who'd been nothing but strangers just barely three weeks ago. It wasn't the first time this thought occurred to you either: yours and Joel's movements seemed to almost flow into one another as you cleared the house from bottom to top. It felt a little like you could anticipate his next move before he announced it, and vice versa. He'd even said as much to you after the first week of the two of you fighting for y'all's asses, talking about how maybe you weren't as much of a princess as he'd initially thought. You'd just rolled your eyes at the comment, but there had also been a feeling of pride settling in your chest that you'd been unable to ignore.

It came like you'd said it would. Not long after you had dropped yourself on one of the worn-out sofas in the living room, you felt a particularly harsh cramp cutting through your abdomen, before something warm trickled out of you. You groaned silently to yourself. So it had begun.

Joel watched you from the armchair next to the couch. He was using the last couple of hours of decent daylight to take stock of his backpack, checking it for tears and what not, taking inventory of his ammo and cleaning and sharpening his weapons. Besides the fact that it had to be done, it gave him something to do. Made him feel like he was doing something sensible, practical.

He didn't like to admit it to himself, but watching you writhe in pain on the couch beside him didn't sit right with him. Even though it had nothing to do with a lack of care on his side, he somehow, against all logic, felt responsible for how crappy you were feelin'. It didn't help either that kept tellin' himself off for it. Ain't none of yer business, he kept repeating in his head and re-focused on sharpening the blade in his hand, right before glancing back at you when you'd moan again in pain.

You were definitely going through it. Once the dam had broken, so to say, there was nothing you could do but lay on the couch and wallow in self-pity. By now, the cramps had settled into a steady churning pain that had settled in your abdomen like a straight line, going from one of your tubes to the other. Your lower back felt like something was trying to break through it from both sides, forming an immense pressure that spread up the rest of your back. As if that wasn't enough, your neck was tense, rock hard and unforgiving, uncomfortable in whatever position you brought yourself into. And then of course, there was the bleeding itself, and the occasional harsher cramp that pulled through your entire abdomen.

You were certainly going through it, and the last two weeks had been too demanding. When a cramp cursed through you, you didn't hold back your whimpers. You just didn't have it in you to care. Joel could think whatever he wanted - no uterus, no opinion, that was as far as your thinking went in regards to him as you laid on the couch and wallowed in pain.

You had to give it to him, though. He was being remarkably quiet about your whole ordeal. You'd expected some dry comments, something about pulling yourself together, woman, you're not dying, but so far, there had been none of that, not even a distasteful scoff at your moans. You did see him looking at you from time to time, and it must've been your hazy mind, but you could've sworn he looked almost sorry for you. Almost.

Hours passed, and your pain didn't let up, if anything, it only intensified. While darkness slowly settled over everything outside, you did anything but on the couch. You turned and tossed with every new wave of pain, trying with all your might to find at least one position that alleviated your pain, but nothing helped. You had just flipped yourself over on your stomach with a groan, burying your face in one of the cushions when Joel spoke up behind you.

"Alright, enough. C'mon."

There was a light tap on your leg, then a more determined nudge when you didn't move. "Hey, c'mon. Move."

You just groaned into your pillow. I ain't movin' nowhere, it meant, but then your legs were being picked up and slowly lowered, until your knees touched the ground. Begrudgingly, and with a very fed-up expression on your face, you lifted your head from the pillow to shoot icy daggers at Joel, who was now kneeling beside you.

"Don't gimme that look," he grumbled. "Just tryin' to help ya. C'mon." He motioned at the sofa cushion. "Put your head down, get comfortable. N' put your knees a bit more together, so I can fit behind you. There you go." He instructed you until you were kneeling in front of the couch how he wanted to, your head resting on your arms on the sofa cushion. Attagirl. He shimmied behind you with some difficulty, his old knees not cooperating with him as fast as they once did, but then he finally sat behind you in a position similar to yours.

"What'cha doin," he heard you murmur into the cushion and promptly shushed you. "Shh. You about to see. Now don't freak, but you about to feel my hands on you."

You had no idea what the hell he was getting up to, but you didn't have the strength to care. For all you cared, he could've taken you off the chessboard in this very moment, and you wouldn't have minded. Everything hurt too much. It was all you could focus on.

You felt Joel's large hands on your waist, then your shirt being lightly pulled up. "Hey! What-"

You did turn around at that, furrowed brows and all, only to be met with Joel's fed-up stare. "You trust me or not?"

It took a moment, but eventually you put your head back down, not without your lips drawing into a pout. Course, you trusted him by now. Even if you didn't like it very much.

Joel waited until your head was settled on the cushion again, then he brought up your top a bit, folding it over once so it'd stay up over your tailbone. It had been a while, since he'd done this - hell, a long, long while - but he couldn't sit by no more and watch you toss and turn in pain. He'd had about enough of that.

He laid his palms flat on your waist, letting you get acclimated to his touch first so you wouldn't turn around and bite his head off once more in a second. Then, when he felt like a good enough time had passed, he lightly lifted his thumbs and pressed them down on your lower back, your tailbone right in the middle of them. Carefully, he brought his thumbs upwards, drawing two straight lines into your skin while keeping his pressure firm.

Your response was almost immediate. Joel could see your tense shoulders going down just a smidge, your back relaxing as you let out an elongated 'oh' sound, accompanied by a deep sigh. "Attagirl," he murmured, one corner of his lips slightly quirking up. "Just relax into it. I got you." He kept repeating the motion, digging his thumbs into your lower back to bring you some relief. A picture of how he'd once done the same for Sarah's mother flit across his brain. He quickly shook his head, dismissing the memory as quickly as it had appeared.

It felt like heaven, how Joel was working his thumbs over your aching back. It did nothing to alleviate your pain in the front, but it still felt a million times better than tossing and turning on the worn out cushions of this dusty couch. Just like you hadn't held back with your moans of pain, you were now not holding back your moans of enjoyment. You'd never felt anything quite like it before. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

You heard Joel chuckle quietly behind you. "I know a thing or two, kiddo. Been around the block once or twice."

You just hummed in agreement, then let out a load moan once more as his fingers dug into a specifically delicate spot. "Fuck, Joel. Yeah. Right there."

Joel was just glad you had your head buried in the cushions of the sofa. Otherwise you would've seen what your moans were doing to him, and boy, were they doing a number on him. He'd been able to ignore your first few moans of pleasure, biting down hard on his tongue and closing his eyes to focus, but then his mind started projecting pictures onto his closed lids of you, below instead in front of him, making those same sweet sounds of pleasure while he touched you elsewhere -

His eyes flew open and he grunted, willing the pictures away with all his might. He tried staring at his hands instead, but that was a dumb idea, seeing as how he could see your delicate skin being worked underneath his thumbs then, his fingers drawing out another moan from your lips -

Next was the wall. He could've drilled holes into the flaky wallpaper, with how hard he was staring at it. He could feel the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment and he could only hope, pray that you wouldn't turn around anytime soon to see how your moans were visibly affecting him, specifically in his crotch area.

"Fuck, oh my god, right there, Joel." Your voice was breathy and needy, and Joel's eye twitched. The hell had he gotten himself into with this?!

He prodded your back, trying to find the spot you'd just referred to. "Right here, sweetheart?"

He saw your head bob as you nodded, a satisfied hum vibrating through you. "Mhh, yeah. That's - oof - that's the spot."

He was digging himself his own grave, that much was for certain right now. He knew he should've stopped, should've went back to his armchair and returned to working on his gun, but he couldn't. It was like he was transfixed, glued in position like a fly to a trap. The whimpers falling from your mouth were too good to pass up, to sweet to resist. He hadn't had anything sweet in such a long time. And Joel was dying for a treat.

But he also knew it wasn't right. He knew it now and he knew it then, those few weeks ago when he'd grabbed you outside of your apartment and had kissed you out of the blue. You'd been shocked to say the least. The FEDRA guards had been on his heels and he'd needed to find a way to disperse of them quickly, and there you were, conveniently placed in his path like a lucky find, and his brain had snapped and he'd just gone for it. Pulled you into a kiss like you were his, hands flying up to your face to hold you in place. Your eyes had grown wide in shock and he'd briefly pulled his lips from yours to whisper to you. Work with me, please, I'll make it worth your while. His heart had drummed in his chest, a million silent prayers tumbling from his lips in the milli-second that it took you to subtly nod. A brief grin had flit over his lips before he'd crashed them back down on yours, kissing you like he'd been waiting to do so all day. And my god, had you worked with him. Your own hands had flown up to his head, one curling around the base of his neck and the other digging into his hair. He'd backed you up against the wall behind you, slowly walking you backwards until your back collided with the weathered bricks, and you had actually moaned into his mouth, much like you were doing now. It had sent his head reeling, and though Joel was not a man of faith, he'd briefly thanked whatever God he had seemingly pleased enough to allow him this sweet of a distraction.

The guards had trampled around the corner then, their heavy footsteps a stark contrast to the sweet moans falling from your lips. They'd cleared their throat - ahem - and Joel had unwillingly detangled himself from you enough to cast a look at them over his shoulder. What? A man can't make out with his girl in the street? Their eyes had wandered from you to him, and he saw then what they were seeing: a man in his mid-fifties pressing a what, late twenties? Early thirties? woman to the wall, her face all flustered, hair disheveled from where Joel's hands had dug into it. He'd seen the envy plastered on their faces, heard the murmurs. Lucky bastard. A triumphant grin had played around his lips, even though he knew he was treading on thin fucking ice. That he was indeed, a lucky bastard.

His luck had only lasted so long, though. When the guards had disappeared, he all but saw lucky stars in his eyes when you invited him up to your apartment. Was he really going to get that lucky?

Heavens, no. He'd been brought down back to earth swiftly when you had stood in front of him, crossed arms and expectant look on your face. So? What was that? He shrugged nonchalantly. What was what?

You, though, as he quickly came to learn, were not to be underestimated. You made him tell you in detail why the guards had been after him, then practically foamed at the mouth when he reluctantly explained what he'd been up to that afternoon.

It hadn't even been that big of a deal, just a casual, run-of-the-mill drug run, but you didn't seem to share his sentiment. Casual? Run-of-the-mill? He'd had to shush you from how loud you were screeching. Didn't you know the damn walls had ears?

My god, you could talk. Bicker, was the more fitting term. Or nag, really. You went on and on about how he'd went and done it now, how he'd fucked up your life, all because he had to go and get you involved in something that you had absolutely no interest in -

That was the first time your finger had flown into his face, all accusing and threatening, like you could do him any harm with just the tip of your index finger. Boy, had he been tempted to smack it out of his face. But he didn't. As much as he hated to admit it - you had a point. By putting you on the map as his lover, he had likely put you in a lot more danger than you were even realizing at the moment.

He'd tried to put you out of his mind. Even after you had made him promise to get you out of the QZ as a 'reward' - You owe me, Joel Miller - he'd tried not to think about you, not until his next run out of the city at least, which is when he planned to make good on his promise. Until then, he wouldn't think about you. You'd just turn into another headache, another problem he'd have to deal with, and he had enough of those as it was. Not to mention that he was almost twice your senior. He didn't have many principles anymore, but he still had some. And hell if he didn't at least stick to those anymore.

He kept his resolve up for all but two hours, when he was back in his apartment, laying in his bed and unable to sleep. You kept drifting through his mind, bickering and foaming at the mouth and red in the face, telling him how he'd went and fucked up your life, but more than that how your lips had felt on his, how sweet your mouth had tasted, how delicious your moans had sounded in his ear -

Fuck it. Joel growled and shoved his hand into his boxers. He'd rub one out to you, just once. Surely that would get you off his mind.

Well, it did, sort of. Until he was in bed again the next night, and he found himself with his cock in his hand once more, thinking about your lips and how they'd felt on him, and how they'd feel wrapped around his cock instead of his own hand -

He groaned as his release painted over his stomach, white silken strands mixing with the soft curls on his belly as he silently cursed you, then himself. The hell had he gotten himself into?

So of course he'd had no choice but to come and get you when he got intel that he was the subject of the upcoming raid, that very night. He barely had time to prepare two backpacks with the bare necessities before he went out to find you.

How all of that had brought him here, kneeling behind you as the sweetest moans fell from your mouth once more - he didn't know. Joel couldn't tell whether you were a blessing or a curse, if you were the price he had to pay or the price he received. Seeing as how his life had gone though, it was unlikely that you were the latter.

And yet he couldn't help but feel like he'd won when he brought his thumbs down on on the sides of your lower spine and earned a low moan in return, long and elongated and putting all kinds of pictures into his mind that his head momentarily fell to his chest, a pained expression painted across it.

No, no. You were both. A blessing and a curse.

Series Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

Credits: plant divider by @strangergraphics

Read part 2 here!

A/N: Well, here we are. Like I said, the idea for this was born while needing comfort on my own period, and then this monstrosity flowed from my fingertips and eventually I realized that perhaps, 9.3k words were perhaps a bit too much for a oneshot, especially when said oneshot wasn't complete yet. Ahem. So! Here you have the first half of what is undoubtedly going to turn into a filthy, filthy second part. 🙃 I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did, I was kicking my feet giggling while writing this, lol.

No pressure taglist:

@peekyourinterest @vickie5446 @noisynightmarepoetry @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @picketniffler

@frogsdeservelovetoo @orcasoul @ashleyfilm @elli3williams @missladym1981

@spotty-boo90 @iamsherlocked-1998 @axshadows @justajoelsreader @oldmenenthusiast

[bunnys-kisses]

can i order belgian waffles and soda served by max verstappen? thanks bunny <3

bakery menu

want to submit your own order?? then hit up the menu! there are tons of items available! i'd love to hear from you! as for this lovely anon, thank you for such a nice order! it's rather short, but i love, love, love it! jealous!max my beloved! thank you!!

belgian waffles ("i cum in that every night.") + soda (jealousy) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, jealous!max, jealousy, dirty talk, missionary sex, motor home sex

"you're a jealous man, max verstappen." you said one night in the garage. your arms crossed and you gaze heavy on him.

he mimic your stance and replied, "i don't want the likes of piastri trying to take my mechanic."

you snorted through your nose, "right." you shifted from one foot the other, "because that weekend in lisbon and that christmas present last year really were because i was employee of the month.... that and somehow my supposed contract with alpine fell through."

max wasn't jealous. he was just concerned.

there should be an age restriction on mechanics. they should be old guys who can still work like they were in their twenties. because if max caught sight of you in your coveralls, looking like a total mess.

you weren't just some cute thing in the garage, you moved with the rest of your team. you were strong for all your time lifting and moving things. but yet carried such soft features that yanked on max's heart like a chain. you seemed so dedicated to getting max his fourth championship.

which was why he was curious why you were in the mercedes garage. he stayed a fair distance with his hat low to keep from any unwanted attention. he wanted to see where this was going.

"this is crazy, george! you really shouldn't be showing me this! oh my god." you said. then you starte to ramble about the aspects of the car. you were practically on your knees to get closer to it.

george tried not to think about you on your knees to hard. he didn't have ill intentions with you. and afterwards, you thanked george before you left, telling him you 'owed him one'. you were impressed by the car, if one red bull had the same specs. the team was pushing you to your limit at times, it didn't help that you had the golden boy of the team stalking in your shadows.

"have a good nice." george said before he watched you walk off.

max caught up with george after you both left the garage, a jealousy coiled in his chest. "george!"

the other man looked over, you far ahead now. he waved to max, "hey, mate."

"what are you doing out near the garage? race's over, man." that press smile hung on max's lips. he could see that you were gaining distance. but if max doesn't set a boundary now. george might get the wrong idea.

"ah, ya know. keepin' busy." max was soon in his personal space, "what are you doing around here?"

"aw, well. looking for my mechanic." he smiled as he placed a hand on george's back, giving it a firm smack. he leaned in to the other man and said, "i hope you know, george, i cum in that every night. it's not right to touch what belongs to another man. we're friends, right?" george nodded and max nodded in response, "so just back off, okay? she doesn't need to be poking around in your garage. and tell toto that she isn't interested in that contract either." then flashed the other man one of his winning smiles before he pulled away from him and went to go find you.

max wasn't a jealous man, he just knew your skills were suited better for the build of red bull.

in the room of his motorhome the night before you had to pack up for the next weekend. there was a fair bit of privacy in the place. it was probably more spacious than your apartment. even though max keeps suggesting you move in with him (the cats would love you). it felt nice to be out of your mechanics clothes, it could be sweltering sometimes. but it was needed when handling such dangerous machinery.

you didn't stray from red bull for long. you were in a shirt that had the logo across your chest, your breasts warping the image in the process and a fresh pair of cotton panties.

max loved the sight of you, how sweet you looked in his space. he remembered the first time you were in his home and your mouth went slack from the sight of it. your first comment was the view, which max let you get a closer look when he fucked you up against the window.

but, he'd have to reign it in a little tonight.

you were curled up with him in bed, your head against his chest while he played with your hair. you lifted your head a little to look at him and he kissed you.

"i saw you were with george today."

"oh! that wasn't anything. he just wanted to show me the car. i was interested in the specs that we could use in red bull... if anyone listened to me."

he smiled, "well." he kissed your forehead, "i always listen to you." he got you onto your back and in between your legs. he was able to move you so easily, for a woman who spent her days lugging around heavy materials, max could easily move you.

you were soft under his touch. in the low lighting of the bedroom. his hands on your hips as he admired you. you blushed a little bit, "i promise there was no funny business. plus george has a girlfriend!"

he got your legs around his waist and chuckled softly, "you think so little of me. i know you wouldn't break my heart that way. only being a team switcher. plus, if george tried to put his hands on you... we'd have a problem." he pressed his clothed cock against you, "but you're my good mechanic, right?"

you swallowed, "you're insatiable."

he pulled at the shirt on you, "only for you. i don't want you getting involved with teams that are less than. you only deserve the best."

"and what's the best?" you asked as the shirt was pulled over your head.

"me."

the two of you got out of your clothes, and max grabbed a condom out of the nightstand drawer. you had already gone through half of the pack that weekend. his hands on your thighs as he gazed at your nude body.

the only thing better than red bull or max's logo across your tits was them being bare for his eyes only. he licked his lips as he brushed his bare cock up against your slit.

"hey!" you yelped.

he chuckled, "quiet. i don't want a noise complaint from the other team. i know you want to scream my name, but tonight we have to keep quiet." he put on the condom and laid you out on the bed. he kissed your jaw as he shifted you hips up against him for a good angle.

he got into you, and shuddered at the feeling. being intimate with you was like a breath of fresh air. even on the days where the smell of car lingered on you and sweat was caked to his skin.

he loved your curves, your smile. how you lit up the garage and were a hard working. your knowledge of cars and how excited you spoke about them. he remembered a time where you could point out cars that passed by when you were having lunch together.

"you feel so good." he said softly, "you just feel like a dream. thank you for taking good care of my car and taking better care of me." he peppered your face with kisses, pushed your hair out the way to access more skin.

you glowed at the touch, it was so simple but yet it left your soul on fire. even when max was a jealous man, you still yearned for his closeness. his kisses and touches, his soft words and how he looked at you. he could have a day from hell, but when he saw you it was like the skies opened for him.

you held his face and brought his lips to yours. his lips were soft, a little raw from his biting while driving earlier in the day. his body felt good against yours. when you pulled away, you smiled at him.

it was like being kissed by sunshine.

he moved against you, your legs around his waist. your nails up near the back of his head. the kisses were passionately. the bed shifted a little with max's movements, but it made your heart leap in your chest.

you then cupped his face and ran your thumb across his bottom lip and smiled. heat in your cheeks as he thrusted. "of course max, a champion only becomes one when he has a championship worthy mechanic."

a shudder went through him, "i like when you talk like that." he said with such affection, "seeing that ego of yours inflate."

you giggled and pressed your forehead to his, "it's warranted. just keep getting those podiums." then kissed him once more.

the rhythm max had was steady and made pleasure circulate through your body. your soft moans were highlighted by the creaking of the bed. the heat inside of you bleed into your hands and feet as he rutted against you.

your nails dragged lazily across his broad shoulders. you panted heavily as max shifted your hips to get a better angle.

"so good for me."

"and you're good for me." he replied. he could feel the wash of warmth in his face, probably staining his cheeks pink. like when he finished a race. but having sex with you was not a race.

"max."

he knew you were getting close. he could feel the shudder through his body. it was like a inferno that he fed into.

you covered your mouth as to not get loud. but max pulled them away from you and pinned you to the soft covers. he silenced with you a kiss as he jackhammered into you. your back arched more, stopped by max's wider chest.

you held onto his hands as he pinned them down and kissed him deeply as you climaxed. your legs tightened around his waist and he continued to move against you. he was close behind you, giving you another searing kiss as he finished in the condom.

his pace slowed to a stop and he felt the heat on his back. he pulled out of you and went to go get rid of the condom. you curled up on the bed and pulled the pillow under your head as you eyed him throwing it out with the others from the weekend.

he got his briefs back on and got you back into his arms. you melted into his touch. in all fairness, you had very little intention of running off to another team. even if red bull drove you crazy, to feel close to max as often as you did felt nice.

if you put your soul into that engine, then he gave his soul over to you.

-

max wasn't a jealous man, but the only thing that could sate the throb of emotion were two things. a multi-year contract with red bull with your name on it and the thin gold chain with a small 'm' pendant. something you could tuck into your uniform while you worked.

he smiled at you, and you wiped grease off your cheek with your gloves, "going to make me win tonight?"

you nodded, "of course." you smiled at him before you pushed hair out of your eyes, "win like always, verstappen. and don't." you pointed at him, "damage my car."

he pulled you by the waist for a soft kiss, "of course." he wasn't a jealous man, but he'd be a fool if he let you go. <3

[hgfictionwriter]

Discovery: Part Five - First Time

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: With the truth revealed, Jessie and you now have a chance to fully build an authentic, honest relationship. And maybe, the physical intimacy that's plagued your relationship - and Jessie's past - can finally be healed.

Warnings: G!P content. First time; oral (J receiving; R receiving); body image issues; lingering internal conflicts and themes of rejection; language.

A/N: This is SO long. I just got carried away - there was so much I felt would be going through Jessie's mind that I couldn't just skip over during their first time together, combined with all of the previous baggage. It felt much more natural to pace it this way.

"So, if I ask you to spend the night, do you think you would?"

Jessie couldn't believe the contrast between this morning and now. She'd come over to your apartment with absolute certainty that this would be the end; she'd maybe get to hold you once more and then it would be the inevitable goodbye.

Instead, here you were, cuddled into her on the couch, fingers of one hand intertwined with hers and her arm wrapped around your shoulder. Rather than a painful and heavy goodbye, you'd sat together for hours; conversation renewed, deeper, sincerer, and you were asking her to stay.

Jessie smiled at you.

"I'd love to," she told you before giving a quiet, bashful laugh. "If you asked, that is."

You chuckled and nudged her with your shoulder. "Well I'm asking."

"Then I'd love to stay," Jessie replied with a resolute nod.

"Now that I know why you were so hesitant to spend the night before," you told her with a smirk, leaving Jessie in awe that you could be so relaxed about this and that things felt so natural between you.

While Jessie's mind had been wrought with questions and worries for months, now the only question that remained was, 'What took her so long to tell you?'

You fidgeted slightly and scratched at your temple, eyes cast downward momentarily before you looked up at her.

"Just as before, even more-so now, actually, you're welcome to sleep in the bed. I-I'd like you to." A beat passed and you rushed on. "But only if you want to."

Jessie's heart felt like it was lodged in her throat, but in a good way. She would've never pictured this.

"Y-yeah," she managed to reply, voice almost wavering. "I'd like that."

You clearly were anticipating a decline, because your reaction was delayed and was one of momentary surprise before smiling broadly at her.

"Oh! Fantastic!" You said before shrinking into yourself slightly, seemingly embarrassed at your enthusiasm. Jessie found it adorable and kissed you. Your cheeks were burning pink when she pulled back. "You can, um, wear some of my clothes to bed. I'm sure I have something that'll fit."

"Sure, that sounds good," Jessie said as she gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

Soon you led her into your room and dug through your drawers for some sleepwear for her. Jessie had been in your room a handful of times, but really only in passing. Given how physical aspects of your relationship had been so taboo prior, the bedroom had become unspoken, forbidden territory. She took this opportunity to look around and really take it in; all of your belongings, the way you had things arranged, all the things big and small that made it yours.

"These should work."

Jessie was pulled from her observations by your voice. She turned to you and gave you a belated smile as she took the items.

"Thank you."

Silence fell over you two, but it felt very different than ones previous. This time, Jessie wasn't scared.

"I know we've talked about a lot today, tonight, but I, um, just want to say again that I'm really grateful you told me everything," you said softly as you looked at her.

"Me too," Jessie returned with a gentle smile. "Again, I'm really sorry it took me so long. I can't tell you how amazing it is to have this openness with you and to be given another chance. I really do love you, and I'm so grateful that I can tell you that and to not have to hide."

You looked at her with the warmest eyes and reached out to gently take the clothes you'd just handed her and set them down on the bed. You took a step towards her, closing the space between you two and wrapped your arms around the back of her neck. Your waist pressed against her’s and Jessie inadvertently swallowed though she held your gaze.

"You shouldn't have had to hide in the first place," you said as you cupped her cheek. "Thank you for trusting me with this." Jessie nodded.

"I'm trusting you with this. My heart. My past. All sorts of things," she finished lightly, hoping for some levity but failing to come up with something witty. She settled for a silly smile that contrasted the weight of her words. You weren't fooled and continued to look at her in earnest. Jessie dropped her smile and allowed herself to sit in this moment with you instead.

Soon your lips were on hers in a slow, deep kiss. Instead of tensing up and coaching herself through it, she finally gave herself permission to relax into your kiss.

Her eyes fluttered open belatedly when you subtly pulled back from the kiss. She looked to you with mild confusion only to see a soft smile crossing your lips. You caressed the back of her neck briefly before kissing her again even deeper. Jessie barely managed to hold back a moan. She tightened her arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

That small act of confirmation seemed to spark something in you. Suddenly, your fingers were running through her hair and you kissed her harder.

It didn't take much for Jessie to feel the telltale signs of her cock starting to stiffen. You were pressed flush up against her - her movements stilled and she shifted her hips back slightly to create space.

"You don't have to," you said slightly breathless as you pulled back just enough to look at her. A moment passed and you shook your head subtly. "I don't want you to."

Jessie inadvertently swallowed. She searched your eyes, a stubborn hesitancy and doubt still lingering in the back of her mind. You caressed her cheek with your thumb and it quieted her thoughts. She pulled you close to her once more and rest her forehead against yours.

"I told you I find you very attractive," she said in a low voice with a smirk. "So much so that it's been a problem."

She saw you bite the inside of your lip.

"I don't see a problem here," you affirmed before giving a smirk of your own. "I like it."

You kissed her again and though Jessie wanted nothing more than to reciprocate, she had to ask once more.

"Are you sure? I mean - you weren't anticipating...this," Jessie finished with a near mumble as she glanced down between you purposefully before looking at you again. "And you said you preferred a strap."

You blushed, dropping eye contact, but caressed the side of her neck still.

"Well, at that time I didn't exactly know that you had anything more than a strap," you said sheepishly before forcing yourself to look up at her. This time, you spoke assuredly.

"And you're right that I wasn't anticipating this. But, I love you. And this," you gave a look mirroring Jessie's a moment ago, "is part of you, which means, I'm all for it." You gave a slight shrug. "And, you know, it's pretty sexy. Knowing...feeling, or seeing, what effect I might have on you." You finished with a shy chuckle. "I'm not upset about it. Let's put it that way."

Some other girls had made fun of her for visibly being aroused, but there was nothing malicious about your reaction. In fact, your reaction was far from it. She smiled gratefully and nodded.

"Okay. Well, I'm glad. And, um, I'm sorry in advance if there are moments - like this - where I get a little too...excited. I don't mean to ruin a moment or anything," Jessie explained as she glanced back down at the slight bulge in her pants - it wasn't anything too overt right now, but if you two carried on it certainly would be.

"You don't need to apologize," you said, mildly chiding her. "I just told you I like it." You slowed, cupping her face once more and speaking softly. "I like it," you repeated.

Any lingering concerns were snuffed out as you began kissing her once more. Slow and patient at first, before deepening. She wrapped her arms around you fully and met your kisses with equal, growing passion. Your hands began to wander down her back and after a moment of hesitation, Jessie allowed her hands to explore as well.

What was an initial arousal was now becoming full-on as your hands played with the hem of her shirt, your fingers grazing ever so lightly against her skin, and when she heard you faintly moan into your kiss, there was zero chance of her hiding the way her cock now strained fully against her boxers and pants.

When you didn't pull away, and instead pulled yourself closer to her, her fingers dug into the small of your back through your shirt, pulling another muffled moan from you.

Jessie opened her eyes, blinking rapidly as she gently broke off the kiss, only now realizing she was short of breath.

"Sorry," she breathed. You frowned at her in confusion.

"What for?"

She frowned in return as she tried to conjure up some coherent thoughts.

"I'm, um, getting carried away," she eventually managed to say.

"I'm not remotely bothered," you assured her. "I'm getting carried away as well, then, too," you added with a faint grin. You looked away briefly before resting your hands on the front of her chest and pushing upwards, your hands feeling their way up her neck and into her hair as you spoke. She nearly shivered.

"I know we just said today we'd take it slow," you looked away again, "but, um, we also don't have to."

Jessie swallowed, studying you intently. "I don't want to pressure you at all. I mean, I dropped a lot on you today. I'm very happy to go at whatever pace you set. I have no expectations."

You nodded, seemingly lost in your own thoughts.

"Mhmm. And, well, we've also been together for months. And...I'd be lying if I said I didn't want you. And, maybe, based on what I'm feeling right now...you might want me, too," you finished with a tentative, but hopeful look on your face.

Jessie blushed with a lopsided grin. "I think that's safe to say."

You both looked at each other, gauging one another and waiting for the other to make the first move. It was several seconds before you grabbed her by the shirt and pulled her in for another kiss, which she readily met.

Hands wandered even more ravenously this time and you were very subtly grinding yourself against her bulge and Jessie swallowed a moan that threatened to escape. She exhaled heavily and found herself pulling you tight against her, her hand now sneaking under your shirt and you moaned in approval.

Surprise flooded Jessie system as suddenly you were pushing her towards the bed, not breaking the kiss until you pushed her down on the edge. When she looked up at you, your eyes were dark with lust and her cock throbbed at the sight.

"Wh-" Jessie's question was cut off as you lowered yourself onto your knees in front of her, not dropping her gaze the entire time. You placed your hands on her thighs and moved your hands upward until your fingers snuck under her shirt to graze her abdomen.

"Is this okay?" You asked. Jessie could only nod, unable to find the words. You toyed with the hem of her shirt again. "Do you prefer clothes on or off for this?"

"I, um," Jessie stammered. "On, for now, I guess." She shook her head. “Wait, I should do stuff for you.” She went to switch places with you but you denied her.

“There’s time for that, too. I want to do this for you,” you said as your thumbs idly caressed her skin. Jessie let your words settle in and a slow smile formed across her lips. She nodded.

You smiled and began to massage her hips, your hands moving inwards until you started to unbutton her pants. She was absolutely aching with anticipation by now. Jessie's eyes were trained on you and she breathed through her lips as her mind tried to keep up with what was evolving.

"You're sure?" You asked one more time, fingers ready to unzip her pants. Jessie let out a breathy laugh.

"Yeah. I am. Um, if you are. You know you don't have to do anything, right?" You didn't break eye contact.

"I know. I want to do this. I want you," you stated and Jessie felt a flutter go through her entire body at the declaration. She frowned as you grew bashful. "I, um, haven't done this in a while though. So...bear with me. I apologize in advance," you finished with a sheepish laugh. Jessie frowned deeper.

"Don't apologize. At all. I-," she wracked her mind for the right words to say. "I'm positive it'll be great. You'll be great. I, um, just want to be with you. That's what's most important to me." You looked up at her from your spot on the floor between her legs and gave her a grateful smile. Your earlier comment caused Jessie's mind to start envisioning you in front of other people in a similar position. She didn't like it.

"And...we don't really need to talk about, you know, other times or people...at least right now," she added gently.

"Oh. Right," you said as you flushed pink. You sat back on your heels and cleared your throat before raising yourself up again and kneading her thighs. "Okay, well, what I mean is, feel free to tell me what you like...and tell me if you don't like what I'm doing."

Jessie felt a tightening in her throat and she forced a series of nods. "Okay, I will."

It probably shouldn't have been a big deal, but she was left in awe to some degree. Other girls didn't care what she liked or didn't like. It was about them - satisfying their curiosity or having a story to tell after. But that wasn't you at all.

She cleared her throat and went on. Now was not the time to get emotional.

"But please don't worry. You can see already that you're doing everything right," she said with a slight chuckle as she tucked your hair behind your ear and caressed your cheekbone with her thumb. "And same goes for you, please tell me if I'm doing anything you don't like. And please know you don't have to do anything that you aren't comfortable with."

"I know, baby," you said as your raised yourself up to kiss her on the lips.

Jessie was kissing you back, eyes closed, when your hand returned to her zipper and began to pull it down and over her aching erection. Her efforts to kiss you back stalled as your hands pushed the fabric of her pants aside and you began to caress her through her boxer briefs.

You began to kiss her neck and Jessie did her best to swallow any impending moans as you continued to feel her through the fabric. Her eyes remained closed as your fingers traced over the head of her cock before gently feeling and exploring what you could of her length.

Next, she felt you trace along a seam of the boxer briefs and her whole body stiffened as your warm hand reached in through the slit of the fabric and your delicate fingers first made contact with her cock.

"Is this okay?" You whispered into her neck as your hand stilled. She nodded. That fleeting touch alone felt incredible and she could hardly believe it was happening.

"Yeah," was all she could manage.

Assured, you gently wrapped your fingers around her length and pulled it through the slit. Now, unencumbered, her full length sprang upward in your grasp and, intentional or not, you sat back and Jessie opened her eyes to see you looking at her cock.

She registered this image of you looking down at her length that stood proudly up within your hand, a large bead of precum pooling at the tip. She wasn't 100% sure how to read your expression, it wasn't negative for sure, curiosity maybe? Either way, a rush of apprehension went through her and she pushed herself back a bit and began to stammer.

"We, um, we don't-"

You seemed to belatedly clue into Jessie's mounting anxiety and you sat up again, one hand coming to cup her cheek as you kissed her mid-sentence, effectively shushing her.

"It's okay," you whispered, kissing her sweetly once more. You urged her to look at you and she did, shoulders visibly rising and falling as her heart raced. “Do you want to stop?” You asked gently, free of judgement.

She studied you, seeing nothing but concern and care in your eyes. She began to relax and she shook her head. “No.”

You kissed her again, letting it linger this time and only pulling away once Jessie's breathing had evened. "You're beautiful," you said. You leaned in so your lips nearly brushed against her ear. "Please don't worry. I love you. And please tell me at any point if you’re uncomfortable and want to stop. That’s perfectly okay.”

“I don’t want to stop,” she told you. She swallowed her residual worries and leaned into your ear. “I want you, too.”

Jessie's jaw fell slack as the hand around her length, which had remained still the past few moments, began to slowly, lightly caress her, your thumb now patiently circling her tip.

Her shoulders rolled back as she felt your tongue flick her earlobe and your breath was hot and teasing against her ear.

"I can't wait to taste you."

She didn't know what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn't for you to say that. She belatedly realized that her fingers were digging into her thighs. She relaxed them along with the rest of her body and you began to kiss your way down until you were resting on the back of your heels once more.

She watched as you looked up at her. You released her momentarily, eyes locked on her still as you licked your hand before wrapping your fingers around her girth again. Jessie didn't drop your gaze, but her shoulders fell at the sensation.

"You can tell me to stop at any point," you reminded her as you began to stroke her up and down. Jessie silenced another moan deep in her throat and swallowed audibly instead as she nodded.

Jessie's mouth fell open further as you dropped her gaze and bent your head towards her waiting arousal. She moved her hands to the edge of the mattress and gripped it tightly as she felt your hot tongue give a slow, teasing flick across the head of her cock. Her breath hitched in her lungs as your tongue languidly circled around the tip.

Her head fell back and her eyes focused on the ceiling as you continued to slowly explore her. Your tongue teased her head, your tongue grazed down her length and back up, your hand gripped her gently, then firmly, you stroked her and circled her.

When your lips wrapped themselves around her tip and you gave a soft, slow lick before sucking and releasing her, she white-knuckled the mattress and set her jaw so harshly it nearly hurt. When your mouth fully sank down on her length, her cock now surrounded by the warmth of your mouth, she couldn't hold back a faint gasp.

Encouraged, you continued, soon bobbing your head up and down on her length and Jessie's breathing became quick and shallow over the incredible sensations that radiated from between her legs and throughout her body.

She curled her fingers inward more, her nails audibly digging into the mattress as you took her further into your mouth, her tip now nudging the back of your throat. Her thighs flexed intermittently as she resisted the urge to move her hips in time with you - she didn't want to be pushy at all.

Her eyes snapped downward as suddenly your free hand found one of hers. She interlaced her fingers with yours and you looked up at her - an absolute sight for Jessie, seeing your mouth wrapped around her swollen cock, your other hand at her base. Again, she was caught off guard as you took her hand and guided it to the back of your head.

The look on her face must've relayed the hesitation or doubt she felt, because you gave a subtle expression of affirmation and pushed her fingers through your hair.

Jessie's breathing was uneven as you refocused on the task at hand, closing your eyes and sucking and licking her once more. Her eyes closed and her head fell back once more as the overwhelming sensations sparked all over again.

She tentatively played with your hair, her hand barely resting on the back of your head as you moved up and down her length. This carried on for a short while until your hand came back up to hers and pushed her hand firmly down on your head, her length going deeper into your throat than ever.

Jessie groaned and clutched your hair instinctually before her eyes flew open in brief panic at allowing herself such a reaction. The feeling ebbed as you continued, undeterred, your thumb actually caressing the back of her hand. She relaxed, sinking into the bed a bit and eyes falling shut once more as she now guided your head up and down.

The sensations that had been building, not just now, but a culmination really of the past several months with you, were about to reach their peak. Jessie's breathing was rapid and she bit the inside of her mouth as a familiar tightening formed between her legs. She opened her eyes, blinking a few times as she tried to center herself.

"I-I'm, I'm gonna cum soon," she told you.

You continued to suck her off and Jessie had to bite the inside of her cheek hard to not groan or curse in pleasure.

"Y/N, I'm not going to last," she tried to warn you, panting as she spoke. "I'm gonna cum."

She expected you to pull back from her, but you remained steadfast, keeping her warm in your mouth until Jessie gripped your hair tightly and tensed up underneath your ministrations. She snuffed out another moan as she began to spill herself into your mouth and down your throat. Her breath hitched as she spurt several times inside your waiting mouth.

Jessie breathed heavily as the twitching of her cock slowed and so did you. It took a few moments for her to come through the haze of her climax and when she did she looked at you in concern. You, however, simply sat back and covered your mouth briefly before swallowing. Jessie just stared at you, stunned.

You wiped your mouth and sat there on your knees before looking up at her. Jessie was still catching her breath as you both looked at each other.

"You taste good," you eventually said, causing Jessie to flush red immediately.

"You-you didn't have to do that," Jessie responded. "Um, swallow, that is." She frowned and flushed further. "Any of it, really."

You frowned in return before giving her a light shrug. "I know. I wanted to." You looked away briefly. "So, um, was it okay?"

Jessie gave you a bewildered look.

"You're joking. You couldn't tell?" She asked, unable to help but laugh a bit. She just shot a huge load down your throat, relatively quickly too - of course she liked it. Instead, you blushed.

"I guess. You were very quiet though," you said somewhat tentatively. You went on quickly. "Maybe that's just how you are - and that's totally fine. I guess I just- I don't know."

Jessie wanted to curse, and moan, and groan with pleasure as you pleasured her, but again, she'd been made fun of before. She'd been the subject of teasing and mocking in hallways or a classroom and it caused her to hold back. She studied you wordlessly for a couple of seconds before nodding.

"I really loved it. You were," she shook her head as she tried to find the words, "beyond incredible." This seemed to relax you and you rose up onto your knees and she wrapped you in a hug as you kissed her.

"Shit, sorry," she said, another blush creeping up her face as she realized her deflating cock was directly on your shirt, staining it with your spit and whatever little remained of her cum.

"Oh, don't worry," you said. You chuckled coyly, gaze flitting away for a second before returning. "We were going to get changed anyway, right?"

Oh right. She'd forgotten all about that already.

Yet again, for the nth time today, you surprised her by locking eyes with her and slowly lifting your top off in front of her. Her jaw dropped slightly and her eyebrows lifted as she took in this stunning visual of you.

"Is this okay?" You asked, your shirt now discarded next to you and your hand behind your back, poised to unhook your bra.

Jessie nodded with a goofy grin. "Yeah, completely."

You smirked and gave her a small nod. "What about you?"

Jessie didn't falter under your watchful stare. She could feel her confidence continuing to build as the barriers she'd firmly placed between you two were rapidly destroyed to discover that there was love and acceptance on the other side.

She lifted her top over her head and tossed it by yours. She reached for your arms and gently guided you up onto the bed with her, your hand still on the back of your bra. She reached behind you, adoring the smile you gave her as she did, and undid your bra for you.

Not thinking twice, Jessie dipped her head to begin trailing kisses down your chest. She cupped one of your breasts and pulled the nipple of your other in between her lips to tease it with her tongue. She grinned into you as your hands wandered and dug through her hair.

She continued to attentively discover your breasts and soon you started shimmying out of your pants and were tugging at hers. Her cock now fully alert and ready to go once more, making her even more grateful that you'd started with a blowjob; it took the edge off for her.

Jessie chuckled softly as she lifted her hips so you could remove her clothes. Yes, she was still nervous, but more than anything she felt an undercurrent of safety and affection and it was such a change. One she more than welcomed.

"Holy shit, you're gorgeous," you said as you took in her naked form. Jessie snorted and gave you a frown.

"You're gorgeous. My God, look at you," she said. She glanced down pointedly at her stiff member. "In case you needed proof that you are so fucking sexy."

Your eyes darkened once more and you pulled Jessie into a heated kiss. The kisses between you two earlier were slow and passionate, but these were hungry and needy.

Soon, you tugged gently on her arm, coaxing her up the bed and she allowed herself to be pulled down on top of you, but made sure to position herself not so precariously against you. She took this as her opportunity to start kissing down your body towards your core.

Your grasp tightened on her, urging her to not move further down.

"Stay with me up here," you said.

"Let me take care of you," Jessie said as she began kissing her way downward once more. "You got to taste me," she looked up your torso at you as she laid slow, lingering kisses down your stomach, "I should get to taste you."

You bit your lip and released her, a smirk on your face as she continued to kiss down your body. She shifted down the bed so her head was nestled between your legs. She felt a buzz, lightheaded even, as your scent filled her senses. Her cock was pressed flat against her torso as she lay on the mattress and she had to readily ignore the hints of pleasure from the friction any slight movement of hers created.

She saw the way your fingers dug into the sheets in anticipation and at a glance she could see the way your arousal pooled at your entrance. Another boost of confidence went through Jessie at seeing physical proof that the act you just performed for her wasn't a turn off, and evidently, even turned you on.

Your knees were raised, feet on the bed and she began to kiss her way down your legs, slowly, teasingly - down one side and then the next. She felt affirmed by how your hips subtly bucked up towards her mouth as she got closer and your fingers dug further into the sheets in frustration every time she pulled back.

She showed an ounce of mercy as she traced her tongue along the junction between your legs and core; staying purposefully away from your inner lips and keeping her tongue light and fleeting. She glanced up your body with a grin, pleased with how your chest visibly rose and fell already under her drawn out attention.

When she saw a bead of cum drip past your entrance and down towards the sheets, she finally delved in. She dipped her tongue down and slowly dragged it upward, capturing your dripping juices and finishing with a soft lick at your entrance. Your body tensed up and a small gasp escaped you and before you had even relaxed she placed her tongue flat against your entrance, before tracing diligently upward through your folds.

You squirmed and writhed as she took her time circling around your clit, giving it a playful flick now and then and finally latching her lips around it and sucking as she lapped at you.

"Oh fuck," you panted as you rolled your hips up into her mouth. She loved your reactions and she grinned into you, sufficiently pleased with herself.

Soon your moans grew louder and you clutched the sheets tightly in your hands. Again, Jessie smiled as she felt your legs tighten and flex around her head.

"Oh God, Jess," you breathed as your hips bucked into her face. "I'm so close." Your hands now clawed blindly at the bed.

Jessie stayed steady, ignoring how her cock absolutely throbbed with need. Every movement and sound you made, along with the way you tasted on her tongue, was driving her mad. She hated to think what state she'd be in if you hadn't given her some reprieve earlier.

Your moans reached a fever pitch and your hips began to jerk against her until you froze mid-grind, your back arching off of the bed and juices flooded Jessie's mouth. She stayed with you, wordlessly coaching you through your orgasm until you hips fell back to the bed and gave a few lingering, stuttering movements. Finally, a heavy, satisfied moan left your lips as your body relaxed and Jessie pulled back.

"Oh my God," you breathed and she smirked as you brought your hands up to your face, eventually draping one arm across your eyes and stretched one leg out as you began to recover.

Jessie watched you coming down, clearly content with her performance. She was filled with satisfaction and pride, but it also sparked a need in her to make you feel that way again. She wanted you to reach that high once more, to feel as amazing as you could, and she wanted to be the one to do it.

Old habits died hard.

This is what she did. As the years went on, one way to defend herself was to make certain there was nothing to make fun of. To be good - damn good. To know exactly what to do and how. But she learned this also had drawbacks of its own. It didn’t change how those girls felt about her. She just went from the butt of a joke to a late night call and little more.

So in time, she more or less stopped altogether. Going into this, she was worried about how rusty she was, but those concerns were quelled by the orgasm she just gave you. And now, she wanted more and to give you more.

She kissed the inside of your thigh. Soft and feathery at first before kissing her way inward again.

She gave you a tentative lick, cleaning up the juices that remained on your lips and your body twitched, an immediate whimper escaping your mouth.

Yes, she definitely wanted more.

She took her time, easing you back towards ecstasy as she gently licked and sucked at you until you were rocking up into her mouth yet again.

This time, as your hands began to grip the sheets once more she reciprocated your earlier move and grasped one of your hands and placed it on the back of her head to give you free rein. She smiled as your fingers immediately dug into her crown and gripped her hair tightly.

You didn't change her pace, and instead simply gripped her tightly as if to anchor yourself as she brought you to another high.

At one point, she pushed your legs back to give her greater access. The shift in position elicited a wanton moan from you and you palmed helplessly at your face with your free hand as she sent mounting waves of pleasure through you.

By the time your moans heightened again, Jessie starting to identify the signs of your nearing release, she had to consciously stop from grinding herself against the mattress for some hint of release.

You gripped her hair so tightly as you came that she winced, but she ducked her head to ensure you didn't see. Not that she felt you could notice even if you tried with how your cries filled the room and you writhed against the bed. Besides, she considered it a compliment.

Your body shuddered as she slowed her licks in time with the way your breathing began to calm.

"Oh-oh my God," you panted as you lay there dazed, eyes closed, the movement of your breasts catching Jessie's eyes as you worked to catch your breath. "I need a moment."

Jessie bit back a chuckle, very pleased with herself and simply laid a soft kiss on your thigh before wiping her face and moving up to lay next to you.

"Holy shit," you said when you finally managed to open your eyes and peek over at her.

"So...was it okay?" Jessie asked. She very likely knew the answer, but, you'd asked earlier and she wanted to reciprocate. And if there was something else you wanted, she wanted to know that too.

You shot her a withering stare.

"Come on," you said. Her expression must've betrayed her, because you next comment was, "Oh yeah. I see your little smirk. You know damn well how much I enjoyed that." You gave a light huff of a laugh. "And if not, I'm sure the cum on the sheets or whatever was surely dripping down your chin should've been a telltale sign."

Jessie blushed at your language and candor, but she liked it.

"Well, you asked me the same earlier and I thought it was pretty obvious how much I liked it," she countered.

You chuckled, closing your eyes once more for a couple of seconds before responding. "Well, I guess I didn't know how to read your reactions throughout. I'll learn though. My reactions? My neighbours could tell you how good you were. Which will be totally embarrassing if I run into them anytime soon, but, worth it."

Jessie tried to tamp down her smile to avoid appearing smug, but felt her face growing warmer despite whatever satisfaction she felt.

"I see you're ready to go again," you said with a lilt in your voice and a purposeful glance down at Jessie's erection.

"Oh." Jessie's face burned hotter. She shook her head mildly. "That's fine. It'll go away eventually. Or whatever."

Jessie's curiosity piqued as you studied her face for a couple of moments, before suddenly she found herself on her back with you straddling her waist.

"I can help, you know," you said lightly with a gleam in your eye. You pushed your hips back, making brief, teasing contact with her length to prove your point.

"Oh," Jessie voiced as a rush of anxiety went through her while she inadvertently dug her fingers into your hips. You took it as affirmation as rocked against her once more. If the fleeting contact with her cock wasn't enough, having your hot, wet heat rub against her abs was sending her into a daze.

"I, um," she stammered as she tried to think through the pleasure and distraction of you rocking against her body, "I didn't bring any condoms with me," she said as she stared at your waist, mesmerized by how your hips were moving. She forced herself to look you in the eye. "I had no idea this was happening tonight."

You stilled entirely and a puzzled expression slowly crossed your features.

"Condoms?" You asked. Soon you nodded as though reasoning with yourself. "For like, safety. Staying clean - all that, right?" You rolled your eyes at yourself. "Obviously. That makes total sense."

"Well...yeah," Jessie shrugged. As she started to elaborate, she found her gaze flitting away, newfound nervousness rising through her chest. "But, probably the bigger thing is, you know, birth control and all that."

"What?" You asked, clearly surprised. Jessie felt herself growing meek, but she resisted as best she could.

"Yeah," she responded, trying to sound nonchalant. "That aspect is...anatomically accurate as well."

She could practically see your mind reeling. She subconsciously began kneading your hips in some attempt to calm you.

"So, um. Yeah," she said, unable to find the right words.

She watched you carefully, vigilantly looking for any hint of what you were thinking or how you might react. The seconds passed and her heart pounded louder and louder in her ears. She looked at you with a concerned frown.

"Say something, please."

A/N: It was FAR too long to fit into one chapter. I'm working on the next part - if you've read my stuff, you know where I'm leaning with this condom situation lol - let me know your thoughts; I can still go a couple of different directions.

Tag requests: @multifandomlesbianic @marvelwomen-simp @kathleenmikaelson

[capricornlevi]

"Convince me to quit my job."

You laugh at the request, having heard it enough times to know he the angle he's going for.

"Kento, no."

A weary sigh from the other end of the phone line. "You didn't even try."

"Because without your job you'd be broke as well as exhausted. And it's just for another year or two, til that partner retires and you can actually start doing what you trained to do --"

You're cut off by a faint groan. "Have you always been this sensible?"

"We'll call it your influence," you reply with a grin, balancing your phone between your ear and shoulder as you make yourself another coffee. "Is it that bad?"

Kento's on day five of a week-long conference out of town; the longest you two have been apart since getting together. You can foresee his answer since he's never tried to hide his misery, but feel it appropriate to ask anyway.

"Awful. Full of boring workshops delivered by boring people in a boring conference centre." A pause. "I'd much rather be home with you."

Stirring the coffee carefully, trying to keep it from spilling onto the kitchen counter, you chuckle softly. "I know."

Another pause.

"What if I told you I'd be home a bit more from now on?"

It's your turn to hesitate, not wanting to jump to conclusions.

"Wait!" you exclaim, and the fact that he actually does wait lets you know everything you were about to ask.

"You got it?" you go to confirm, though it sounds more like a statement than a question, your voice pitching up at the end of the sentence.

"Partner took early retirement," he says, and you can hear his smile from the other end of the line. "Means I can work from home every other week. I just wanted to see your thoughts on my job before I took it, y'know, in case you did have any compelling arguments on quitting."

"I have compelling thoughts on my husband being made partner before he turns thirty, if you want to hear those?"

He laughs, warm and adoring. "Oh, very much so."

[hypnagogics]

https://www.tumblr.com/plutolovesyou/755080548722081793/do-you-think-ellie-would-be-more-a-strap?source=share

this with abby PLZZ

ellie version. dina version. your wish is my command ♡ smutty yap ahead! ++ lil bonus scenario under the cut: just like before, abby loves it all. she loves you and your body, and making you see stars any and every way she can. ima gloss over the other ways because i'd rather write full fics about em ;) but one method rises above the others, in my opinion. i think abby would be a fiend for fingering.

i think she'd be quite visual, and what gives her a better view than this—stuffing her thick fingers inside your pussy, watching you fall apart on nothing more than a few of her digits working diligently to bring you a world of pleasure. she'd love watching the fluids leak out of you and soak her hand, occasionally pulling her fingers free to stretch them apart, and admire the shiny webs of slick that have been created. and we simply can't forget the praises that would fall from her lips the whole time, when she's not completely hypnotized that is.

"look at that...takin' me so well, so well, baby." she's sitting there in awe at the way you're swallowing her up so perfectly, the unforgiving pace of her pounding in and out rendering you an utter mess. your broken mewls, sharp gasps and intakes of air when she curls her fingers skyward juuuust right, pleas for more and lewd poems of her name, combined with the soaked squelching sounds of her ministrations curated a soundscape that was straight (heh, not!) out of her fantasies. she wouldn't stop to give either one of you a break, and would go on for ages, thanks to all the exercises she does—incorporating special hand and arm workouts into her routine for this very purpose.

and if your brain wasn't a fucked out pile of goop, you'd prop yourself up to watch her gorgeously toned arms flex and ripple at her movements, which made the experience even better. plus, because she's such a huge fan of feeling you around her fingers like this, over time she has grown to recognize what every little squirt, squeeze, and flutter of your squishy walls meant, and she'd move her thumb to circle your swollen clit to increase intensity of it all. when the peak approaches, she'd continue what she was doing until you're bordering on tears from the overwhelming sensations, talking you through every moment. "that's it, yeah. let go for me, cmon. give it to me- fuck, so perfect..." only when you were trembling and truly couldn't take any more, she'd let up, eyes sparkling while she's examining her handiwork (LMAO) then she sticks her fingers in her mouth to lick them clean, sucking up every drop and sighing at the taste, her blue eyes closing in pure bliss.

bonus: same thing as last time, something that isn't one of the three mentioned but i think she's obsessed with, is thigh riding. hell, even ab riding. dare i even mention dove fucking...? because her physique is so powerful and beloved by you, she would love watching you grind on her taught muscles desperately—however way, whether you were riding her flexed thigh like a rodeo, or straddling her 6-pack, bracing yourself on her broad shoulders, humping her skin until there was cum all over her and dripping onto the sheets. sometimes she'd take her strong hands to your hips and waist to guide you, pulling you in, pushing you down harder against her until your hips stuttered, but other times she'd lazily cross her arms behind her head, lay back and enjoy the show. she'd love watching you rut up and down, rolling your heat on her frantically in all directions, huffing and puffing until you're so close, yet so tired and whining miserably. she would help you out of course, but not before muttering, "go on, keep going baby, doing so well." until you eventually did it, and collapsed on top of her, and she wrapped you in a warm embrace. OKAY GODDAMN THE OTHER ONE WAS LIKE A THIRD OF THIS LENGTH LAWRD...

[tpwk-formula1]

Hii!! Could i get a deep dish with red sauce, sausage, mushrooms, chicken and basil on my pizza. For drinks i would like to have a beer and a root beer. And a dessert, please with Lewis Hamilton. Thank uu

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

Deep dish teammates to lovers red sauce rough sex sausage "better not waste a drop" mushrooms "wrong, wanna try again" chicken "awe you thought I'd let you cum that easy" basil "I love watching my cum leak from that pretty pussy" beer edging/ orgasm denial root beer daddy kink dessert yes

Backstory - the reader is Lewis's teammate and her season is going exactly how George's season is going. Set to be in the hotel room right after the Baku GP finished.

TW - rough lewis, fingering, rough blow job, slight squirting, pussy eating, creampie - MINORS DNI

WC 1900+

AN - I'm not gonna lie I am so excited to have gotten my first request! I was working on a demo "request" to try and bring more attention to my request page since it's so new but then I got this notification and instantly jumped ship on the other fic. lol

To this anon thank you for requesting and I hope you love your fic <3

Y/N POV

"Lewis, just shut up," I finally snap after having listened to Lewis bitch and complain for the past 30 minutes. I understood that he had been struggling with his car during the race but after trying to enjoy my podium finish after a rough few races I was getting to my breaking point.

"Are you fucking serious with me right now?" Lewis snapped back and I knew exactly where this was going to lead us.

"Yes," I deadpan staring at Lewis dead in the eye.

"Wrong, wanna try that again," Lewis replied back standing up and crossing the room so he was standing in front of me sitting on the edge of the bed.

"No, I want you to shut up, you're a 7-time world champion you can afford to lose a race," I reply back standing up so Lewis was no longer towering over me. What I didn't take into account was how close that would leave us. I was now chest to chest with Lewis making my breath hitch slightly.

"Get on your knees," Lewis's voice boomed out making me jump slightly before slowly bending to get on my knees.

Lewis and I had always had an interesting relationship, to say the least. We were close on track and knew how to help each other out to get the best outcomes for the team but off the track, we would butt heads a lot. We bicker and we fight but somehow it always ends up with me cumming around Lewis's cock.

He had once asked me if I ever got tired of fighting off whatever we had and I simply just shrugged. I had no idea what we had but I knew I loved the back and forth.

Once I'm comfortably situated on my knees I slowly start pulling down the black Mercedes-branded sweats Lewis had thrown on once we got back into my hotel room.

When I get his sweats all the way off I can see just how hard Lewis is under his briefs. My mouth instantly starts watching wanting to get a taste.

"Please daddy," I whisper taking my eyes from his rather large bulge to making eye contact with Lewis hoping to get what I wanted.

"Go ahead, put your slutty mouth to work," Lewis replied back making he pull him briefs down before gripping onto his hard cock. I lick a strip from the base of his cock to the tip making Lewis shudder slightly.

I pull the tip of Lewis's cock into my mouth making sure to completely coat the sensitive gland with my spit before pulling back and blowing on it slightly watching the goose bumps grow across his skin. I could see Lewis was shaking slightly from the shear pleasure of the cool air.

"Don't be a fucking tease with me," Lewis snapped after a second or so of the cool air.

"Yes daddy," I reply back before taking Lewis's cock completely into my mouth and down my throat not stopping until I've completely bottomed out and I'm left gagging slightly around his cock.

I can feel Lewis's start to tremble slightly letting me know he was enjoying it as much asa I was. When I start bobbing my head and massaging his balls Lewis instantly became a lost cause. He was shaking and gripping onto my hair making sure to fuck nice and hard into my face.

I was a gagging mess letting spit and tear to coat a good portion of my face.

"God, you're such a fucking cock whore for this aren't you," Lewis groans when he looks down and catches a glimpse of my tear-streaked face.

"Fuck," Lewis groaned out before he gave one last hard thrust into my mouth before unleashing a massive load filling my mouth full of his cuk.

"Swallow, better not waste a fucking drop," Lewis said while still softly fucking into my face to ride out the rest of his orgasm. I do my best to swallow the best I can while still having my mouth completely stuffed with Lewis's cock. When he finally pulls out I swallow the last remanding bit of cum before opening my mouth and showing Lewis that it was now empty.

"Good girl," Lewis said while pulling his briefs back up and kicking his sweats to somewhere in the room leaving him in just his briefs having discarded his shirt sometime while he was face fucking me.

Lewis helped me stand before she started stripping me down into nothing but my underwear, which by now are completely soaked through making Lewis smirk before training a finger over my folds making me gasp slightly.

"Please, Daddy," I whine not entirely sure what I was asking for. Lewis just pushed me down on the bed before climbing on top of me and pulling me in for a quick makeout session before trailing his kisses down my jaw, to my tits where he pulls one of my hard nipples into his mouth and starts sucking on it. My back instantly starts arching and I'm already moaning loudly.

When Lewis finally makes it to my soaked pussy he rips my sad excuse of a thong right off my body making me whine at another pair of panties gone at the hands of Lewis.

"I'll buy you new ones soon," Lewis whispers against my heated pussy making me whine.

"Hurry up," I whine and wiggle around trying to urge Lewis to make a move.

Lewis finally starts kissing around my thighs and smooth pussy but never getting close to where I need him the most. When he finally licks a strip from my soaked hole to my achy clit I let out on of the loudest gasps yet.

"Oh," I whine when he continues to tease my clit with the softest and lightly kitten licks possible making me legs shake needy more.

"Daddy please," I whine not being able to handle the teasing.

"God, I love when you get needy for me baby," Lewish whispers before pulling my clit in for a long suck making me moan, finally getting what I had been wanting.

"Fuck," I moan through gasps finding myself growing close to an orgasm already. Lewis caught on which had him speeding up his actions and slipping two fingers into my waiting hole where he finger fucked me right to the edge before pulling back and leaving me to shake in the orgasm that was no longer about to happen.

"Lewis, what the fuck," I groan out sitting myself up slightly to see Lewis better. He instantly set a firm slap down on my pussy for using the wrong name not even having to tell me why I was getting a small punishment.

"Awe, you thought I was gonna let you cum that easy," Lewis said with a smirk before slipping his fingers back into my pussy and pulling my clit back into his mouth giving it a slight nip with his teeth before soothing the slight pain by sucking on my clit again.

"Daddy I'm gonna cum," I moan shortly after Lewis started finger fucking me roughly again. When Lewis pulled back again I wasn't shocked this time but I was just as frustrated.

"Please," I beg not being able to take much more.

"What do you want?" Lewis asks me. "Fuck me please," is all I reply back before Lewis is pulling himself back up to hoover over me and place a few kisses on my lips letting me taste my pussy that was smeared all over his lips.

I feel Lewis shove his cock into me giving me no time to adjust to his brutal pace. I loved when Lewis got like this, it always had me cumming within minutes and gave me the perfect type of soreness to feel for the days following.

Once Lewis got into a comfortable pace he reached his hand between us and started rubbing small but rough circles on my clit knowing it would have me cumming within moments.

"Please Daddy," I beg needing to cum already.

"Cum all over my cock now," Lewis demands making me whine and clench my pussy before cumming all over Lewis's cock.

"Daddy," I scream softly while still being fucked my Lewis making sure I was riding out my orgasm but working on throwing me over the edge again but this time he when he came with me.

"So, good," I whisper trying to catch my breath from the intense pleasure I had just expierenced while also feeling the effects of the overstimulation.

"Daddy, it-s too mu-ch," I stutter over my words through moans trying to push Lewis away slightly.

"You can take it," Lewis told me before slowing his pace ust slightly but still making sure the thrusts were rough and I could feel him hitting my cervix.

When I finally caught my breath Lewis picked up his pace again bringing me towards the edge again. Now Lewis and I were both standing on the edge together waiting to fall over.

"Daddy, please," I moan.

"Cum with me," Lewis finally groans out after having helped us on the edge long enough. I instantly start shaking and twitching all over Lewis's cock cumming hard than I had the first time even quirting just slightly soaking Lewis's skin slightly. My orgasm through Lewis over the edge filling my cunt up with his cum. He continued thrusting in me slightly making sure to ride both of our orgasms out before he slowly slips out of me not wanting to cause me any discomfort.

"I love watching my cum leak from that pretty pussy," Lewis whispers softly while he continues to stare at my pussy that is leaking his cum all over the hotel bed sheets.

Once Lewis caught his breath he stood up before picking me up softly and bringing me into the bathroom that was connected to the room. He softly sets me on the bathroom counter making me gasp at how cool it was on my heat skin.

"Sorry, just give me a minute," Lewis whispers at my discomfort and kisses my lips softly before turning around and drawing a bath for us. This was something we always did when we got like this. If we happened to be in a room that didn't have a bath we would take a shower together.

When the tub was half full at the perfect temp for both Lewis and I he picked me back up before placing us both into the bath together.

Lewis had his back pressed against the side of the tub while sat in his lap facing him.

"You know I care about you a lot more than I would like to admit," I tell him softly while trailing my thumb across his cheek.

"I care about you a lot too," Lewis replied softly taking his hand out of the water and softly pushing my head down to rest on his chest, slightly falling asleep listening to his heartbeat.

I wake up to feel Lewis standing up with me still in his arms making me whine at sleep being disturbed.

"Let's get to bed pretty girl," Lewis says softly before doing his best to wrap a towel around us and making his way back into the hotel room.

Once he dries both of us off he pulls back the cum soaked comforter and gets us a clean blanket from the small couch before climbing into bed with me and pulling me to his chest.

"I'm sorry if my complaining tainted your podium. I'm really proud of you," Lewis said softly making me smile against his chest.

"It's okay, I know I probably wasn't the best after Silverstone," I replied back before placing a soft kiss on his lips.

[deanwinchestergf]

and why would an angel rescue me from hell? good things do happen dean. not in my experience. i'm not here to perch on your shoulder. i was getting too close to the humans in my charge. you. to everything there is a season. you made an exception for me. you're different. for what's worth, i would give anything not to have you do this. i learned my lesson while i was away, dean. i serve heaven, i don't serve men and i certainly don't serve you. but you guys aren't supposed to be there, you're not in this story. yeah, well, we're making it up as we go. i'm hunted, i rebelled and i did it all, all of it, for you. so what i'm thelma and you're louise and we're just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together? i need your help because you're the only one who'll help me. that's a pretty nice timing, cas. we had an appointment. what happened to you cas? you used to be human, or at least like one. but cas, you'll call right? if you get into real trouble? this is cas, guys. he has gone to the mat cut and bleeding for us so many freaking times, don't we owe him the benefit of the doubt at least? it sounds so simple when you say it like that, where were you when i needed to hear it? i was there, where were you? i'm doing this for you, dean. i'm doing this because of you. but we were family once, i would've died for you, i almost did a few times. i've lost lisa, i've lost ben and now i've lost sam. don't make me lose you too. cas, you child, why didn't you listen to me. you used to fight together, bestest of friends, actually. if you remember, then you know you did the best you could at the time. the very touch of you corrupts. when castiel first laid a hand on you in hell he was lost. i'd rather have you, cursed or not. well, i'll go with you. i prayed to you cas, every night. cas, we're getting out of here, we're going home. i mean you kept saying you didn't think it would work, did you not trust me? cas, it's me. we need you, i need you. i won't hurt dean. cause you didn't trust me? you didn't trust me. please, man, i need you here. nobody wants him here more than i do. you gave us an order, castiel, and we gave you our trust. don't lose it over one man. you really believe we three will be enough? we always have been. his true weakness is revealed. you draped yourself with the flag of heaven but ultimately, it was all about saving one human. i'm glad you're here, man. how are you, dean? and then you'll kill the angel, castiel. now that one, that i suspect would hurt something awful. and when you turn, everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead. everyone except me. i'm not gonna send lucifer into battle inside cas, what if he doesn't make it? it's not an it, sam. it's cas. but you're always there, you know? i could go with you. you mean too much to me, to everything. i'm gonna cure you of your human weakness, same way i cured my own. it's a gift, you keep those. you mean we? yes, dumbass, we. we lost everything and now you're gonna bring him back. we got cas back, that's a pretty damn big win. just don't get dead again. it's good to hear your voice. so this is goodbye? but i swear if he did something to her, if she's- then you're dead to me. either get on board or walk away. i don't know what's god and what isn't, and it's driving me crazy. dean, you asked what about all of this is real. we are. you used trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt, now you can barely look at me. i think it's time for me to move on. you didn't deserve that. since when do we get what we deserve? maybe if you didn't just up and leave us. i left but you didn't stop me. i should've stopped you. you're my best friend but i just let you go. and i forgive you, of course i forgive you. i'm sorry it took me so long, i'm sorry it took me til now to say it. you did it cas. okay, cas, i need to say something. you don't have to say it, i heard your prayer. well, here's to being right. you know what every other version of you did after gripping him tight and raising him from perdition? they did what they were told, but not you.

[zara-renata]

Control | ao3 | the Sylus series

Summary:

You are feeling a bit depressed after completing a mission that didn't go 100% the way you wanted. Mephisto, and then Sylus, pay you a visit to cheer you up.

Notes:

Sylus x gn reader, Sylus x mc, second person POV, a little Sylus POV This is not actually strictly part of the Sylus series, but rather a bit of an interlude outside of the series I'm writing because it doesn't advance the plot and I don't know where I'd fit it in. I was having an awful day earlier this week and wrote this purely to make myself feel better. I hope it does the same for others. It doesn't contain all the same triggers as the series (but I'd still advise checking the CWs) and can be read as a standalone if you'd like. This story contains: sfw, pure self-indulgent hurt/comfort for overachievers who, despite doing their very best, still feel like they didn't do enough, fluff, banter, tender Sylus, clingy Sylus, still-bit-of-a-jerk-Sylus, CWs: grief, discussion of the realities of law enforcement and innocent civilian death as a result of criminal activity, violence typical of the game and Sylus's criminal tendencies, mention of slight depression and feelings of emptiness.

Here you are, again. It has been a long day, a long week, a long month. You’ve been called out almost every shift to counter an increased spurt of wanderer attacks, while also trying to execute a carefully orchestrated undercover mission to stem the tide of illegal modified protocore weapons that recently flooded the black market by arms smugglers.

No, not Sylus. He’s too clever to put himself on the Association’s radar for his arms dealing in a way that could result in a trap being set for him.

No, the idiots you were going after couldn’t hold a candle to Sylus.

But their activity resulted in civilians being caught in the crossfire, and you had spent the last month seeing firsthand the carnage left behind after a gang battle erupted on the outskirts of Linkon City. You forced yourself to look at the broken bodies and broken families of the people affected, boots crunching on shattered glass, trailing bloody footprints on the cracked tarmac of the street. You would not allow your… situationship with Sylus to blind you to the reality of what his line of work could do to people. People just trying to live their lives, make their rent, raise their children–to survive a life that’s already painful and short enough already, without people like the assholes you just finished bringing down tonight arming other assholes with weapons that no one should be able to access. Weapons designed with one purpose in mind: maximum damage, minimum finesse. Weapons designed as if collateral damage is a feature and not a bug.

You’re tired. Days like this have always happened to you, even before you became a Hunter. The lethargy seeping through your body, the disinterest in doing anything that normally makes you happy. You lie on your bed, staring blankly through your gauzy curtains, the autumn wind driving the intermittent raindrops against the glass of your window. Each one a crystalline jewel, splattering, liquid diamonds trailing down the pane like tears. 

You have the evening stretching before you, and you want to enjoy it, you do. But you can’t seem to make yourself get up, as your mind drifts to the images you made yourself engrave in your brain. The least those people deserved was you to bear witness, and ensure that you never forget, since your work as a Hunter came too late to help them, in the end. 

You turn your gaze away from the gloomy late afternoon, let it wander over the riot of plants hanging from your ceiling and along the shelving in your room. Life continues. Proof of it is right here in your bedroom, the plants turning carbon dioxide into oxygen for you to breathe with your healthy lungs. You’re fine. You’ll be fine.

Before, you might have dropped in on your grandmother, making her a meal and sharing it in quiet companionship. If Caleb weren’t on a flight mission, you might have asked him to go on a run or to the gym with you, worked off some of this jittery aggression on the mats or by pushing your lungs past their capacity in an effort to leave him laughing in your dust.

But they’re gone now, of course. Victims of the same type of assholes you took down today.

You should be reveling in the success of your mission, but all you can see is the still form of one victim in particular, a snapshot in your memory of their slender wrist, their half-opened hand, lying in the street amongst the glittering shards of glass and scorch marks on the asphalt.

This empty feeling will pass. You know that. You have enough life experience to understand that feelings like this, moods like this, ebb and flow like Rafayel’s tide. So what if it’s harder now, to pull yourself out of them when you find yourself drifting in this sorrowful sea, because your support network has been washed away? That doesn’t mean you’ll feel like this forever. Only that it might take a little longer to drag your tired body off the bed, to refill your empty tank and survive and maybe enjoy another day.

Suddenly, you hear a tapping. You turn your head back to the window. Mephisto is perched on the other side of the glass, gently pecking the pane. He tilts his head and regards you with one glittering red eye.

You haven’t seen Sylus for several weeks now, both of you busy with your respective occupations, and you, doubly busy with the undercover mission. He has sent photos, here and there–blurry pictures of a black cat, a flock of birds in flight against an evening sky, the setting sun’s rays the color of fire and blood. He has asked how you’re doing, and you’ve lied and said you’re fine. He sent you a photo of a glass of wine on a low table near a roaring fire. “You should be here,” he’d captioned it.

Despite all of your complicated feelings about who he is, who he was to you when you first met him, what he does to afford his huge open hearth fireplace and all the finest things in life, you wished you were there with him too.

But you weren’t, and you haven’t been for awhile now. Over the past few weeks, you’ve seen Mephisto in the trees, heard his grating call over the sounds of traffic. But he hasn’t approached you, until today. Normally you would play your typical cat and mouse game with him, or rather, crow and worm, and you’d grab your paintball gun and see how good your aim is as he flaps outside your window, or you’d lure him in with a treat and lock him in the bathroom and wait and see how long it takes Sylus to send Luke and Kieran to set him free. You like to think of it as enrichment activities for both the crow and his owner–you’re not going to make it easy for Sylus to stalk you. He might get bored, after all.

But you just don’t have it in you, today. You slip off the bed and pad to the window, throwing it open. Rain mists your face, drawing goosebumps up your bare arms. Mephisto watches you, and caws softly. You’d call it a coo, if it wasn’t such a horrible sound. Much like his owner’s attempt at a lullaby. You back away, slip back onto the bed. If he’d like to come in, he’s welcome.

You return to staring at your bedroom walls. After a while, you hear the flapping of wings, and suddenly Mephisto lands next to you on the duvet. He shakes his mechanical feathers, and water droplets are flung onto the fabric and the mountain of pillows.

“Thanks, buddy,” you murmur, watching as he uses his beak to groom himself. It’s uncanny, sometimes, how alive-acting he is. Like a real bird. You’ve always wanted a pet. You know that Sylus insists that Mephisto is not a pet, but you really can’t see the difference. Mephisto clearly likes his owner, and does his job dutifully, and sometimes you think, with great pleasure. He drops little destroyed bits of surveillance hardware at Sylus’s feet on occasion, like a real crow bringing something shiny to a human who was previously kind to him. 

Curiously, but without much expectation, you extend your hand to the bird. He hops backward, away from you, but remains on the bed. “May I pet you?” you ask.

He cocks his head, makes soft little chirruping noises in his mechanical throat. You let your hand fall to the duvet, palm up, and close your eyes. It’s nice to have company, in any case.

After a while, you feel him hopping again, and then something cold and smooth hesitantly nudges your palm. You open your eyes. Mephisto is gently pecking your palm. He nudges it, then bobs his head, observing you with his beautiful ruby eye.

“Is that a yes?” you ask. In response, he sits down, nestling into your duvet. You lift your hand, and he lets you run your fingertips along the top of his head and along the smooth, cool metal feathers along his back. 

Every few minutes, he ruffles his feathers and readjusts his position, slowly inching his way closer to you on the bed. Finally, he is resting against your thigh, within easy reach of your hand, head tucked into one of his wings like he’s ready for a nap.

The open window lets the brisk, rainy autumn evening in, and the light slowly fades. Eventually, you manage to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

And this is how Sylus finds you, towards midnight. He lets himself in through your front door, using the fingerprint scanner he reprogrammed to accept his own as well as yours. He enjoyed seeing the look on your face, when you figured out that’s how he had gotten into your apartment without the key you had offered and he had refused. Your angry facial expression is worth more than all of his dragon’s hoard of wealth, in his trustworthy opinion.

He notes that the temperature in your apartment is surprisingly cool, even through the warm wool of his thick black coat. He had sent Mephisto to check on you, but he hasn’t managed to get an update since the bird was tapping at your window, sending back images to Sylus’s phone of you lying on the bed in your sleep clothes, awake, but not looking at your phone or watching your wall-screen, even though it hadn’t even been dinner time yet. He had told himself not to worry, that you were probably just tired after the past grueling month. But now he is worrying. He slides off his black monk strap shoes, and places them neatly along your entryway wall. Despite the faint worry edging up his spine, he takes the time to neatly line up your own hastily kicked off boots next to his, because he also worries that you’re going to trip and break your neck one of these days on all the shit you just leave scattered around on your floor, too exhausted to immediately tidy them up and put them away.

He makes his way through your dark apartment, picking up discarded clothing and folding them over his arm to put in your laundry basket, and quietly steps into your bedroom. 

No wonder it’s cold in here–your window is wide open. It’s no longer raining, but the chill night air drifts into your bedroom and stirs the leaves of your indoor plants. You’re buried in your duvet, curled around an equally nestled Mephisto, who deigns to lift his head from where he had it tucked under his wings. He caws softly, as if to tell Sylus to be quiet and to not wake Sylus’s sweet little Hunter.

“This is dereliction of duty,” Sylus quietly scolds the bird, lifting the lid of your laundry basket next to your closet and neatly putting the clothes inside. He goes to the window and shuts it, and then draws the gauzy as well as the blackout curtains against the night outside. He returns to the living room, hangs up his coat, and brings a glass of water back to your bedroom.

He leans over the bed and pokes Mephisto. “You’re in my spot.” The bird puffs up his feathers a little in indignation and caws quietly.

“Nope, out. You’ve had your turn.” Sylus prods him again, and finally Mephisto ruffles his wings, hops to his feet, and flaps off to the living room, making disgruntled noises as he goes. Sylus sympathizes, but doesn’t feel guilty at all for dislodging him from your side. It’s Sylus’s turn now.

He slips out of his slacks, pulls his sweater and undershirt over his head, and slides under the blanket next to you. You sigh in your sleep, frowning a little, and Sylus runs his finger between your eyebrows, smoothing the furrow there. If he could, he’d reach into your dreams and crush anything that would cause such an expression on your face in his bare hands. Unfortunately, that’s not one of the perks of the aether core in his eye. He settles for plastering his body against your back and wrapping an arm around you, running his nose along your neck and inhaling the scent of your hair. The distance between Linkon City and the N109 zone is getting harder and harder for him to handle gracefully.

While you’ve been busy taking down the low level morons playing at being arms smugglers, Sylus has also been busy for the past few weeks, negotiating deals, consolidating his power, tightening his grip in his efforts to acquire a monopoly on the illegal protocore arms trade in both the N109 zone and Linkon City. He’s making progress, but his work is not yet done. He’s tired, and he has spent every day of the past month missing you. Now that he knows your latest mission is over, he intends to soak in your presence for as long as you’re available, before he has to head back out into the cold gloom without you again.

Sylus closes his eyes. Just for a moment. He’ll check in on some online auctions in a few minutes, review the stock market moves of the day and reconsider investments, but for just this moment, he’ll hold you in his arms, and warm your cold hands in his warm palms.

And that’s how you find yourself waking up in the early hours of the morning, a big warm body pressed against yours. You blink, note the time of two in the morning. You reach out and feel around, setting your bedside lamp to its dimmest setting so that you can see in the pitch-black room. You turn your head, and find Sylus’s sleeping face on the pillow next to yours, looking more peaceful than he ever appears when awake. The furrow between his brows is almost nonexistent, and his mouth is soft, plush lips parted a little. In this moment, you can imagine him as a little boy, angelic in sleep, mischievous while awake. Your heart hurts a little, imagining what kind of life that little boy had to endure to become the sleeping panther next to you tonight.

You turn fully, brush your nose against his, and then cuddle into him, head tucked into his neck. You breathe him in. He smells like warm, sleepy Sylus, a little sweaty under the duvet. You resist the urge to lick him.

“This is the best way to wake up from a nap,” his hoarse, sleep-filled voice vibrates through you.

You laugh softly. “Good, because this is the only package we offer tonight. No refunds.”

“I wouldn’t dream of returning this experience.” You can hear the smile in his voice.

You both lie like that for a while, the sound of the wind outside and your combined quiet breathing the only sounds filtering through the room.

You had fallen asleep feeling empty, but waking up with this elusive man in your bed has you feeling sated. Refueled. Full. You sigh. How is it possible that a man who is responsible for the same things as those assholes you apprehended yesterday can make you feel like this? You remember that person lying in the street, eyes that will never see again, a parent who will never come home again. As if they were just sleeping. But as you stood over them, you knew better–your heart was the gravity well of a black hole, and you felt like you would fold in on yourself from the weight. If only you had been a little quicker, a little cleverer. If only you could disintegrate another human being like Sylus can, with just a gesture. You could have disappeared the assholes who were responsible for this person’s death, an entire life, someone’s baby at some point, brought into the world with love and effort and surviving each and every day, right up until the day you found yourself standing over them, as they lay broken in the street. And they died, for what? For some senseless, stupid feud over money? Turf? A feud they had absolutely nothing to do with. Fuck . You’re feeling sick again.

You burrow deeper into Sylus’s warmth.

“Speak,” Sylus says.

You pull back slightly and look up into his sleep-bleary face.

“Speak?”

“Are we a parrot tonight?” He smiles, eyes heavy-lidded.

“A parrot?”

“And a comedian, ladies and gentlemen,” he leans forward, nuzzles your nose with his.

“Don’t get too close, I probably have morning breath,” you murmur.

“Ah, so you can formulate your own thoughts.” He nuzzles the side of your mouth. “Do I look like a give a fuck if you have morning breath? I probably do too.”

“Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Then you yawn, widely. 

He runs his hand down your side and pinches your hip. You yelp.

“Don’t change the subject,” he commands. “Tell me what’s on your mind. I can hear it racing from here–I’m pretty sure it’s what woke me up from my pleasant nap.”

“Oh, did I disturb his royal highness’s beauty sleep?”

“Yes, so you owe me. The compensation is telling me what had you staring into the void yesterday, and what made you sound so sad just now while enjoying being wrapped in my extraordinary arms. Many people would pay a lot to be in the position you’re in right now,” he says smugly.

“Yes, in order to slit your throat.”

He huffs. You note that he’s wrong; you’re probably the only one with morning breath. He somehow manages to just smell good. Toothpaste and mouth. You want to lick his teeth. “You’re probably not wrong.” He pauses. “Please talk to me. I’ve gotten used to hearing your worries. You can shut everyone else out, but I don’t like it when you shut me out too.”

You roll away from him, but his arm around you prevents you from going far. You glance at your windows, but the blackout curtains block even the city lights. 

“I’ve just. I’ve been thinking about a lot of things over the past few weeks.”

“Uh oh. Nothing ever good comes from that,” he teases. You swat him in the chest. His body shakes with quiet laughter.

“Do you want to know or not?” you gripe.

“It’s not my fault that you didn’t make it clear that you won’t be accepting editorial commentary at this time. But I’ve learned my lesson. Continue.”

You throw your arm over your eyes and laugh. You can’t help it. Even when you’re feeling at your worst, this man manages to make you laugh. But you feel guilty for laughing, because the person you can’t get out of your head, this stranger who you were unable to save, will never laugh again. You hate it.

You sigh. “I’ve always struggled with the fact that my evol seems to have only a support function. Like, I often need a partner in order to be optimally effective in battle against wanderers, because otherwise it’s just me and whatever my physical talents are. Which, though amazing,” you sniff, “are often just, not enough when dealing with the kind of creatures that I often have to deal with.” You fall silent, imagining if you could set shit on fire like Rafayel without resorting to a flamethrower, or freezing a swathe of enemies all at once like Zayne. The battles you would wage would be epic.

“And I’m obviously competent at eliminating wanderers–I can usually arrive before the damage occurs. I can actually help people. And wanderers, they’re not like human perpetrators. They have no ill intent. They’re like animals, driven by instinct. Even when I do arrive too late, it feels more like a natural disaster than a malicious injustice. Of course, it’s still awful when someone dies for something so senseless, but that’s been the case for all of humanity’s history in the face of stronger predators.” Your mind races. You’re trying so hard to articulate what has been weighing on you. “But that’s only one part of my job. The other side of it, the side that involves going after humans with ill-intent, that’s a lot more complicated. So often, I arrive after the damage has already been done. I feel like the cleanup crew, completely useless to the normal people who just are trying to get through the day who get caught up in other peoples’ cruelty. It’s not like evil assholes announce their arrival with a metaflux fluctuation like wanderers do. I’m just.. too late, too often.” You try to imagine everything you’d do if you had Sylus’s power. You’d probably turn into a supervillain too, to be honest.

You fall quiet again. Sylus props his head on his hand and runs a finger along your clavicle with his free hand. You enjoy the feel of his calloused fingertip along your skin.

“And what else? I’m sensing there’s more to this story.”

You don’t want to hurt him. But you also don’t want to lie to him. “I just can’t reconcile the fact that I spent the last month tracking down the arms smugglers that I managed to catch yesterday, and I’d have gladly killed them if given half a chance. If I could snap my fingers like you, and just fucking annihilate them. But here I am, lying here in bed, with you.” You can’t bring yourself to look him in the face as you say this.

You feel Sylus’s fingers begin to trail up your forearm and gently encircle your wrist, pulling your arm away from your eyes. You turn and look into his face. 

“I’m certainly glad you’re not in bed with them now, sweetheart,” he says drily. “I don’t think there would be room for all of us, what with your army of plushies and my impressive physique.”

You groan.

“So let me get this straight. You’re upset because you feel like your skills aren’t sufficient to protect every single person who is in need of help. You’re upset that you can’t kill with a thought. And you’re upset because you would have killed these guys, who are in the same business as me, but you refuse to do the same to me?”

It sounds so simple, succinctly listed like that, for how heavy your heart feels. For the emptiness you felt, instead of triumph, after successfully protecting a lot of people over the last month, and getting a few more petty dealers off the street so they can't contribute to hurting anyone else in the future.

The bit about Sylus being the same as those criminals, without meeting their fate, on the other hand. That doesn’t sound simple at all.

You nod. “Instead of feeling like I did well, and taking the free time I have after I’ve completed a job to enjoy myself, or do something that makes me happy, all I can do is think about all the ways I failed, or how could have done it better, or how I’m still not doing everything I should be doing to help people. That’s why I was …staring at the void, as you put it. I couldn’t imagine one thing that I wanted to do with the free evening I had.”

Sylus pokes you in the forehead. “I knew you were arrogant, and greedy. I just never realized how much until this moment,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

You jerk back from his touch. “I pour my heart out to you, and you call me arrogant and greedy?” He lifts his eyebrows at your outburst. “The fuck, Sylus?”

“Quiet, or you’ll wake Mephisto.” He drapes an arm back over you and pulls you back into his warmth.

“Oh nooo, wouldn’t want to wake your mechanical murder bird,” you bite out, but quietly. You feel like you have a new understanding with Mephisto now that he let you pet him and you shared a nap with him. It’s not his fault that his owner is an insensitive asshole.

“No, we wouldn’t,” he agrees placidly. “Would you care to know why I am rightfully pointing out that your attitude about what you 'should' be capable of is arrogant and greedy? Or do you just want to stay upset about it for a little longer? I can wait.”

You scowl at him. “Oh, I’m happy to wait if you keep looking at me like that,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

You put your palm on his face and push him away. He rolls away with a soft laugh.

“Just tell me,” you grumble. “And then go home. I’m suddenly not feeling like company anymore.”

“Hmm,” he props himself back up on his hand. “You have an incredibly powerful aether core in your heart, one that is coveted by countless people.” He rests his other hand over your heart as he speaks. “You've recently increased its power by absorbing the power of another aether core. You can heal other evolvers, resonate with them to exponentially increase their power, and probably do a lot more than you’re aware of yet. You’ve probably not even scratched the surface of what it can do for you.” 

You look away, but enjoy the press of his palm against you.

“You have extraordinary physical capabilities–I’m not just patronizing you when I said that I’d rather have you at my back than anyone else I know, even without your evol.” He reaches for your cheek, and gently tilts your head to look at him again. His wine-dark gaze drifts over your face. “And you’re not the only Hunter in the Association. If only one person were capable of doing your job, there would be no Association at all. You can’t expect to be one-hundred percent successful, one-hundred percent of the time. Not even I am greedy enough to feel like I should be able to have that kind of success rate. And I’m also not arrogant enough to expect that of myself. I can’t run Onychinus alone. I rely on many subordinates and competent people to take care of the business when my attention is elsewhere.” He looks at you pointedly, as if you’re the elsewhere slurping up all of his attention.

You blow a raspberry at him.

More quickly than you thought he could move, he snatches your tongue between his thumb and forefinger and gently wags it. His skin is salty. “Da thuck, Thylus?”

“Keep it in your mouth if you don’t want me to take it,” he wags it once more, as if to emphasize his point, and then lets go. “Next time I won’t give it back.”

You suppress the urge to just slobber all over his face in retaliation.

“So yes. I find the expectations you have for yourself to be arrogant and greedy, and entirely excessive. Do you think that your colleagues are failures, or haven't done enough, when they return from missions that went tits up, or when they failed to protect one hundred percent of those threatened?"

You scowl. Of course not. You know that they work their asses off to the best job they can. You'd never think less of them for having a bad day, or a bad mission. For people dying on their watch. But they're not you.

"Kitten, you’re doing your best, with everything you have in you. The world is cruel, and so are the people in it. You can’t control that. But you can control what you do about that cruelty. You're already fighting as hard as you can--too hard, if you want my valuable opinion."

"Trying as hard as I can with as much hardware and bodywork I can exploit. But it's just no the same as having your evol," you grumble. You might be slightly jealous of Sylus's power. Just slightly. 

Sylus huffs, sounding a little impatient. "If it's not enough for you to be a walking grenade launcher, and you're frustrated that you can’t disintegrate those you want to eliminate with a snap of your fingers, just bring me with you. You can control me, and I’ll do all the heavy lifting.”

You just stare at him, mouth hanging open a little. He lifts his hand and chucks you under your chin with his thumb to close it. “Why so shocked?”

“Aside from the fact that you just offered to murder for me?” you ask, shaking your head a little.

“I already have murdered for you. I’d do a lot more than that, for you.” He pulls you into his side again and rests his head on your shoulder. “So don’t be too greedy. You're already very talented at what you do. You have control over the most powerful person in the N109 zone. The people you work to protect every single day are lucky that you are on the Association’s side, and not anyone else’s. You can’t save the entire world from injustice. But you can continue doing your best, with your already impressive skills, to protect as many people as you can. And if anyone tries to tell you that what you’re doing isn’t enough, you can send them to me. Including yourself. I will take care of them for you.”

You turn your head and rest your cheek in his silky hair. You breathe deeply and feel your heart settle in your chest. You notice that he hasn’t addressed the fact that he’s involved in the same business as the people you took down yesterday. But you don’t care. You know, somehow, in the calm beating of your heart, that he isn’t anything like them. He isn’t anything like them at all.

Your thoughts drift to a slender wrist, to an open palm. You will never forget this person. Hopefully you can honor them, in some small way, by continuing to force yourself to look, and not surrendering to the horror of it. You will keep going. Maybe next time, you'll arrive in time. You hope it is enough. And you'll also try to hear what Sylus is telling you. All you can give is your everything. No one can ask more of you than that, even if it's you who is asking.

As you continue rubbing your cheek in his hair like a cat, he speaks again. "And as for you not arresting me... or taking advantage of your position and slitting my throat." You freeze. You thought maybe you could just pretend you hadn't expressed this worry tonight. "Have you ever considered the possibility that, in order to treat an infection, it's not sufficient to just address the symptoms?"

For a second you feel like you can hear Zayne coming out of Sylus's mouth, and you're totally weirded out. "What do you mean?" you reluctantly ask.

"Sometimes, the only way to destroy a rotten core is to work from the inside out. It's not enough to desperately amputate the affected limbs. And that kind of work requires getting your hands dirty."

You feel like he just told you something very important. But you can also sense that he won't explain anything else tonight. This is the closest the two of you have ever gotten to actually discussing the substance of his work, and you're satisfied with that. The certainty you felt before, about him being utterly different than the others, settles deeper into your bones. You relax into him again.

“And your last worry. About not knowing what to do with yourself when you’ve completed something extraordinary, and find yourself with some free time on your hands… just call me. We can figure out what to do together.”

You can’t bring yourself to say anything. If you do, you might start crying and not be able to stop. He is everything you needed tonight. You just press closer into him, hoping he can hear everything you can’t say out loud yet.

“So, still not feeling like company anymore?” Sylus asks, after you’ve sat in peaceful silence for a few moments. “Or am I allowed to stay?”

“Would you go even if I asked you to?” You reach up and run your fingers through his soft hair, and he makes a pleased noise deep in his throat.

“If I thought that was what you really wanted, sweetheart.”

And you believe him.

[teddy06writes]

Whumptober Day 2 - Darry Curtis

Darrel 'Darry' Curtis x gn!reader

Prompt: Migraines

Trigger Warnings: None

Summary: Juggling a migraine and the Curtis gang is not the easiest thing in the world. Luckily, Darry is there to come to your rescue and tell the others off

The screen door crashed shut with a slam that seemed to shake the house. The pain in your temples flared, and you had to pause in your dinner prep, leaning against the counter and squeezing your eyes shut for a long moment.

Steve's whiny voice joined the din of the living room, complaining loudly of an empty stomach. Swallowing thickly, you peeled your eyes open, squinting in the harsh kitchen light.

If you could just finish up and get this damn roasting pan in the oven, you'd be able to go sit down in the dark somewhere, and nurse this god awful headache, even only for a little while.

An hour ago you'd been half asleep on your bed, with an ice pack pressed firmly against your head, trying to fight a growing headache. But when Darry had called you from work, saying he was going to have to stay a bit later than normal, what could you do but offer to help out by making dinner for the gang.

"(Y/n)!" Steve's voice was suddenly ten times closer, and you turned to find him standing in the doorway of the kitchen, "What's for dinner?"

"Pot roast." You said in a clipped voice, ignoring the way that his nose wrinkled in respinse.

"'s it almost ready?"

It should be done in-" You glanced over at the clock, desperately ignoring the pain behind your eyes, "An hour- ish."

"Seriously?" Dallas groaned from where he was balanced on the arm of the couch.

"Yes. Seriously." You grit out.

Reluctantly, Steve shuffled away, and you rushed through finishing up, practically throwing the pan into the oven, and grabbing the egg timer from the counter.

On your quick retreat from the kitchen, you tossed the timer to Soda, instructing, "When that goes off, take the pan out of the oven, would you?"

You didn't wait for a reply, heading off down the hallway in the hopes of finding respite in the darkness of Darry's room.

The dim light was an instant relief, and you all but collapsed onto his bed, toeing off your shoes almost as an afterthought. The closed door did some to muffle the incessant noise from the living room, but you could still hear the occasional exclamation.

The pounding in your head droned on, despite that. With a groan, you began to massage at your temples, trying to shut out the noises from down the hall.

You weren't sure how much time had gone by when you heard the front door open and close again, this time much gentler than Steve's slamming. The chatter dulled from a quiet roar to a murmur. and back again, and then there were footsteps coming down the hall, and the door to Darry's room squeaking open.

The other side of the bed dipped, and Darry's hand was gently carding through your hair, "You alright sweetheart?"

"Migraine," You mumbled, rolling to face him, "Dinners in the oven- gave Soda the timer..."

His hand kept up that same rhythm, massaging at your head, "Mhhhm. Did you take anything?"

"No... It should be done any minute now..."

"Don't you go worryin over that now," Darry leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple, "I'll be right back, sweetheart."

You felt him shift off the bed, and disappear back into the hall. Almost immediately, the boys out in the living room quieted down. A few minutes later, Darry returned, sitting beside you once more.

"Brought you some advil, hun."

You sat up, wincing at the renewed pounding at your temples, and took the pills gratefully.

"You wanna brave dinner, or?"

You sunk back down onto the mattress, shaking your head, "I think I need to sleep this one off, Dar."

"Alright, sweetheart." He settled down beside you, beginning to massage at your temples again.

"Dar, what are you doing? Go eat." You peeled your eyes open to look up at him.

He smiled down at you, "Nah, I'd rather stay here with you for a while, hun."