#but you still are in awe of how fucked up they are

[cherubunie]

baby doll ~ sim jaehyun x reader

౨ৎ inspired by this request !! ♡ ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 제이크 ] ☆ in which jake eats out his virgin girlfriend for the first time and ends up going batshit insane with obsession & possession

word count ; 2.7k

dom! jake x sub! reader . corruption kink , oral , lots of praise , very very slight degrading if u squint , fingering , neck kisses , hickeys , Jake is a little bit of a pervert , not proof read , this kinda sucks oh well

Jake and you have been together for four months , and the two of you have decided to take things slow.

he was so so patient with you- so kind and loving , never has he ever made you feel uncomfortable or forced to do anything. he wanted to go at your own pace, even if that meant he had to rub one out after a heated make out session in private once a while.

he was the sweetest boyfriend ever and he loves you so much..

so much he began to slip into insanity

you two have had conversations before, such as establishing a safe word and what kinds of things the two of you were kind of into

which led him to discover that you were in fact a virgin.

ever since you told him that small fact about yourself, he drove himself further into madness.

how on earth were you a virgin?

he thinks to himself on a regular basis. you're too fucking gorgeous.

the thought of having the perfect little girl who has never experienced having sex was phonenomal. he wanted to show you all the different ways he could make you feel good, which positions he could fold you into, he wanted to force perfect whines and moans out of your mouth as he fucked his cock deep inside you for the first time. he wanted to teach you how to suck him off- imagining your round eyes looking up at him while your mouth was stuffed full of his length was too much for him to contemplate.

Jake knows its wrong, but when he's snooped through your room a couple times while you were in the shower. he imagined what your naked body looked like when it was wet, how the water droplets would travel inbetween your breasts and thighs- the picture made him unbelievably hard-, he then found himself discovering the awful cute panties that are folded neatly in your underwear drawer that have adorable matching bras. he also discovered a measly pink vibrator tucked away in a box of that underwear drawer, completely dead and his mind began to race.

have you came to the thought of him at all? do you imagine him fucking you as you use the pathetic little toy on your clit?

he couldn't seem to stop his dirty thoughts that began to cloud ever part of his being.

the thought of you wearing one of those adorable pieces of underwear underneath your clothes made him feel all sorts of things. and oh god whenever you would walk around your apartment with just a hoodie on made him wonder if you were wearing one of the cute lacy panties with a black bow stitched in the middle.

here you were, reaching up on your tippy toes to grab a glass out of the cabinet.

and that god damn hoodie of his that you're wearing began to ride up to show the curve of your ass, the lacy underwear peaking out from underneath.

Jake felt himself growing in his jeans just at the sight, you truly had no fucking clue what you were doing to him.

"come here baby" jakes voice traveled through the apartment. you pop your head out of the kitchen with the biggest smile on your face.

"coming, I was just getting water" you trot into the living room, setting down the glass of water onto the surface of the coffee table. you stand up and look at him, that cute smile on your face still prominent.

his hoodie falls around your mid thigh, the article of clothing completely swallowing your figure and he begins to wonder how you look underneath.

he would love your body regardless of its shape of course, but that doesn't stop the dirty thoughts that form in his skull. every fiber of his being is telling him to rip it off of you and stuff your face into the couch below him and fuck you raw- but he decides on the latter.

"come here doll, let me look at you" your feet patter on the hardwood floors as you walk over to your boyfriend, standing in between his spread legs. his hands find the outsides of your thighs , his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your exposed skin.

"you're so beautiful" his words make a deep blush coat your cheeks. his hands suddenly grip your legs, shifting your body so that you can sit on his lap facing him.

you gasp at his forwardness, but lean into his touch nontheless. your head leans down and your breath fans his face. Jake looks up at you through his eyelashes, admiring your beautiful face that's beet red at his gentle words.

you both lean in for a kiss, your chapstick smearing onto his lips as your mouths move together. your hands move to wrap around his neck, pushing your body into his front.

the kiss quickly began to escalate, your mind was fuzzy, your hands were frantic, and your pussy began to wetten.

his tongue intruded your lips, sliding against yours while his hands moved from your thighs up to your hips underneath the hoodie you were wearing.

his fingers played with the hem of your underwear, a quite whine leaving your throat- to which Jake happily swallowed. your hands moved up to his head, your fingers lacing in his thick locks in order to tug and pull on them.

now it was jakes turn to moan into your mouth, his fingers tightening on your hips as he began to grind his growing bulge into your core.

everything felt hot and overstimulating , your head began to hurt as you quickly pulled off of your boyfriend.

your lips were kiss swollen and your face was red. Jake looked up at you with concern, his hands instantly slipping out of the hoodie in order to cup your cheeks.

"what's wrong my love, are you okay?" you nodded your head trying to catch your breath. your eyes fly closed and your hands grip into his shoulders.

"we don't have to baby doll, lets put on a movie and cudd-"

"I- I want to.." your voice was small, tone laced with embarrassment. jakes eyes widen in shock and he tilts your head to look at him.

"we don't have to if you dont want to , im okay sweetheart I promise" he reassures you , as hes done for the millionth time since the two of you started dating. your eyes open and lock onto his.

"I want to, Jake... I really really do im just- nervous is all.. what if it hurts?" oh my god.

Jake feels his chest tighten and he bites back a smirk, his hands moving down to cup the slope of your waist. he wished you wouldn't have said that, because all he wants to do now is manipulate your body into any position he wishes while he takes away any and all sense of innocence you have in your body.

"how about this baby, I'll eat you out and finger you until you're ready for me, hmm?" jakes eyes darken slightly , you avert your eyes from his with an embarrassing huff.

"what it... what if i.. I dont know.." you stutter over your words, not wanting to finish the stupid sentence.

"big girl words, doll" you sigh again and cover your face with your hands, muttering into your palms

"what if I taste bad" your words are muffled, but Jake can hear them regardless. he takes his big hands and wraps them in his hold, forcing your hands away from your red face as he speaks to you.

"you will not taste bad , I swear... how on earth would you have a bad taste, you are the sweetest girl to ever walk this damn earth" his compliment makes you giggle.

there is absolutely no way you could taste bad and he knows it.

he's smelt your underwear before out of pure curiosity and has never been more obsessed with the idea of eating you out ever since.

before you could protest, hes picking you up into the air. your legs wrap around his waste and your arms tighten around his neck with a squeal.

"Jakeee" you drag out his name with a giggle as he walks over to your room. he sets you on the foot of the bed and you feel even more embarrassment at all your stuffed animals looking at you.

Jake stands inbetween your legs, his hands on your knees in order to keep them apart.

you lay on your back and reach above your head, turning around your stuffed rabbits that rest in front of your pillows before sitting up and facing him.

Jake has to stifle a laugh that threatens to bubble up passed his chest, but one makes it out anyways.

"dont laugh at me.. I dont want them watching" you are too fucking adorable, his heart swells in his chest at your words.

Jake leans downs, his body towering over yours as he brings you into another kiss, this time it's more heated; demanding as his mouth moves against yours rhythmically. your hands move to his back, arms wrapping around his shoulders. you feel his hands at the base of the hoodie. he breaks the kiss with a wet pop, he looks into your lust-filled eyes- a silent plea.

"can... can we keep it on..?" you ask him, and he instantly responds.

"of course baby, anything you want sweetheart" Jake brings one of his hands to press against the mattress behind you before he gently leans you back, your head falling onto the mattress gently.

you feel yourself growing wetter, your clit pulsating in your panties as he kisses you deeply once more. your hands move to his hair- tugging on it once more.

Jake bites your lower lip and you hiss, your hips grind up into the air in a desperate search for friction. he trails his kisses to your neck before sucking down on your skin, leaving the prettiest purple marks that have you arching your back while breathless whimpers drip off your tongue like honey.

Jake detaches from your neck and sinks down to his knees in front of the bed, his face coming down to your clothed pussy. he pushes the hoodie up around your stomach, baring your underwear to him. your face is hot and you worry about how you taste and look, attempting to control your breathing as you lay down on the mattress.

"shh baby, its okay, I got you" his words reassure your overthinking mind. he brings a cold finger up to your clothed clit and presses down, earning himselfa sharp inhale from the perfect woman above.

he rubs his digit in soft circles, coaxing your body to relax.

"j-jake.." you whine as he chuckles. after a moment of concentrated massaging to your clothed clit- he sees a prominent wet patch form on your underwear and he curses at the sight.

without thinking, he pulls your panties to the side and slips his fingers through your wet folds. your back arches and your eyes close at the feeling.

"so wet for me already?" he teases you. your mind is racing - as is your heart while he pulls his fingers away from your heat in order to pull your pretty panties down passed your ankles.

you sit up on your forearms as he places his hands on your knees in order to pull your legs apart.

and the sight of your dripping pussy makes him fall for you all over again. the unholy thoughts that run ramped in his mind are sick, the way he wants to split you in half and fuck you dumb overtakes his thoughts- but he calms them in an instant.

he brings his face closer to your heat so his breath fans your aching pussy. your arousal drips down your ass and onto the sheets before he brings his tongue out in order to lick a stripe up your pussy- making you shudder in your hold.

he does it again, and again, and again- making your breathing rapid and uneven

"so sweet.." he mumbles before wrapping his arms around your legs in order to pull you down onto his face- his lips automatically wrapping around your clit.

your mouth slacks open in a gasp followed by loud moans. his tongue works its magic against you- flicking and sucking around your sensitive bundle of nerves. your hands fist in the sheets, using them as leverage to keep you grounded.

Jake groans into your pussy as he feels your hole clench around nothing- so he brings his middle finger up to your cunt before sliding it inside your tight pussy.

you quite literally suck his finger inside you before clenching around him. Jake lets out a stream of curses into your wet pussy

"fuck.. so tight. such a perfect baby doll falling apart in my hands" you moan at his words, your hips rocking into his face.

the unfamiliar feeling of Jake eating you out makes body feel weak and your mind feel empty- stars beginning to form in the darkness behind your eyelids.

Jakes finger pumps inside your pussy, curling in desperate search for that sweetspot deep inside you- and when he finds it, your back arches even further off the bed as you squeal. he chuckles against you- sending vibrations through your entire body starting at your core.

"found it" you feel tears well up in your eyes, and Jake decides to scrape his teeth gently against your clit- making you hiss at the odd feeling.

"god you're so fucking beautiful, my perfect little angel" his finger repeatedly kisses your cherry-sweet spot, the pleasure overriding your senses as you grab his hair and grind into his face.

"j-jake please.." you have no idea why your begging, but the sound of you moan his name as you come undone in the palm of his hand makes jakes cock rock hard- straining against his jeans and he swears he could come just by eating you out.

his grip on your thigh tightens, his tongue concentrated on your puffy, swollen clit.

an unfamiliar feeling forms in the pit of your stomach, and you begin to feel hot and uncomfortable.

"j-jake i.. feel weird hmm, pl-plea-se" your moans pick up volume and your legs attempt to close around his head, but the grip he has on your thighs is strong and unmoving.

"doing such a good job for me sweet girl, wanna cum angel?" you shake your head frantically, the wave of your orgasm beginning to crash down on you.

"y-yes please" you answer, making Jake pout his lips into you.

"such a good girl, you can cum baby, I got you sweetheart im here" you fall into this hands as the coil in your tummy begins to unravel, your hands come to cover your eyes and your legs begin to shake.

your moans turn into high-pitched mewls and cries

"oh my god Jake!" one of your hands comes down to your side in order to reach for your boyfriend, and he just about breaks down.

you're reaching for him.

you want to hold his hand as eats you out, as you come all over him.

he unwraps his arm from your leg and instantly grips your hand in his, and that pushes you over the edge as your fluids squirt out of your pussy and all over his face- dripping down his chin to stain the sheets below.

Jake gawks at you, his mouth slack open and his eyes wide as you become a puddle

the realization of what just happened hits him;

you just fucking squirted for him.

"fuck- you're so perfect oh my god- such a good girl, pretty girl" as you begin to settle down, Jake pulls his fingers out of you and stands up before leaning down to face you.

he tucks a stray hair behind your ear as he kisses your forehead.

"you did such a good job for me baby doll, so pretty" he compliments.

"I-i was?" Jake nods his head and takes you into his arms.

"yes baby, the best"

[tofics]

You Owe Me - Part 2

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, slap on the cheek (brat taming??), unprotected p in v

Word count: ~9k

Previously: 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 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.

"Joel?"

The mention of his name brought him back to reality. He blinked once, twice, before his eyes focused on you. You were looking at him over your shoulder through hooded lids, your hair all frizzy around your head from how it had rubbed against the cushion. Lord have mercy. If he didn't know any better, he'd have said you looked all fucked out.

"What is it, darlin'?"

There it was again. Not your finger in his face, no, but your bottom lip slowly pushing out into a pout. Joel swallowed. You had to be doin' this on purpose, right? ...right?

"You stopped." You looked at him with your pout, all sad and sorrowful. It was such a pitiful picture that the corners of Joel's mouth quirked up.

"Sorry. Thumbs're hurtin', is all. Gimme a moment," he replied and shifted so you hopefully, hopefully couldn't see the strain in his pants.

You sighed and plopped your head back down on the sofa. Joel exhaled quietly in relief.

"S' still hurting like hell in the front," he heard you murmur into your arms.

"Hmm?" His thumbs were hurtin', he hadn't lied about that. While he waited for the ache to pass, he gently drew his fingers across the exposed skin of your back. He could do that much, at least. And he'd get to keep touching you.

"S' still cramping like hell," you repeated and looked back up at him over your shoulder. That goddamn pout.

Joel inhaled deeply. Keep yourself in check. His hand brushed over your lower back once more. "I know, darlin'. I'm sorry."

He'd had a lot of low points in his life, there was no doubt about that. But this, this had to be his lowest. Joel was bent over what had once been a bathroom counter, his forehead bunched up as he brought his fist down around his hardened cock, once, twice, again and again. Here he was, furiously jacking himself off behind closed doors, trying to hold in his moans and groans through gritted teeth and bitten lips while you finally slept in the living room.

It had taken a while until you'd been able to drift off to sleep. Joel had massaged your lower back a little longer, the hard-on in his pants pressing uncomfortably against the seams, but he hadn't dared to adjust himself for fear of you turning around and seeing what your moans had caused. He'd felt like a fuckin' teenager, getting a boner like that from just touching on you. It was ridiculous. And then, you'd asked him to pet your head.

Can I lay on your lap while you brush over my head? He was convinced then that you knew. You simply had to know. But there was nothing on your face that indicated any form of evil intent on your behalf. You just wanted his comfort - you were in pain, nothing more than that. Joel had scolded himself, then awkwardly gotten up with a pillow already held to his crotch as inconspicuously as possible. C'mon, he'd said and you'd laid your head on his lap, two layers of worn out fabric and a few measly clumped up feathers being the only thing that kept your face from his hard-on. He'd almost felt ashamed as you closed your eyes and he began stroking a hand over your forehead. Sick old pervert.

That's how he felt now, hunched over as he got himself off to the memories of your moans once more. He came onto the splintered wood with a muffled groan, his free hand balled into a fist. Sick old pervert, he told himself again as he wiped his hand on a ragged old towel behind the bathroom door and closed his pants back up. He'd make sure to tell you not to go into this bathroom when you woke again next morning. Dead infected, he'd say, and hope that you wouldn't check.

Your period wasn't any more forgiving on the second day than it had been the first. You spent most of it on the couch, dozing in and out of your misery while every single bone in your body ached. The only times you got up were to change your pads and to do your business in the backyard, making sure each time to tell Joel to not look. He was weirdly gentle with you, bringing you water every now and then and making sure you ate. He'd apparently found a well in one of the backyards just a few houses away, so at least you didn't have to worry about dehydrating while you bled and bled and bled.

You woke up again sometime in the late afternoon to the warmth and crackling sounds of a fire. Joel must've had started it in the fireplace while you had been asleep. You also found yourself draped in a blanket that hadn't been there before. A small smile appeared on your face at the gesture. Gruff and snappy as he was, he sure had his sweet moments, just like when he'd massaged you last night.

With a stifled yawn you stretched your (still) aching limbs, then paused mid-stretch as your eyes landed on something by the fireplace. What was that hanging from a string above the fire...?

"JOEL!"

Thump, thump, thump. He came thundering down the stairs and sprinted into the living room, rifle raised.

"What, what," he asked hoarsely, his eyes quickly scanning the room for whatever danger had made you call out to him. You glared at him from your position on the sofa.

"Did you - did you wash my pads?!"

He blinked, then lowered his rifle. A hint of pink colored the tip of his ears. "Uh... yeah. Figured you'd need 'em." He scratched his neck, shuffled his foot.

You kept staring at him. "You... washed. My pads."

You could feel the heat in your face as your own cheeks got colored a soft pink.

"Uh-huh." He nodded again. "Washed 'em out in cold water first, then boiled 'em..." Joel finally seemed to pick up on your embarrassment. "Ain't much different than washin' bloody clothes." He shrugged.

"Umh. Thank you." Pink was a long forgotten shade. Your face resembled more that of a tomato now.

"Don't mention it." Joel stood in the doorway a moment longer, then went back upstairs to do whatever he had been doing before you'd called him down.

Some things fade as time passes. For example, you didn't remember much about your mom. She'd passed away early on after the outbreak, and you had been so young, barely ten years old, that you had a hard time recalling her in your mind. There were a couple of times though when you'd hear her in your mind clear as day.

This was one of those moments, as you stood in the upstairs bathroom of the house you and Joel were staying in. The cracked mirror was foggy as you stepped up to it and ran a hand over the cold and wet glass. Your reflection was slightly warped, but you could see the warm flush in your cheeks, the way your damp hair settled around your head.

Baths can make you feel like a new person. She'd always said that as she'd bathed you when you were sick, and you had to give it to her. She was right about that.

Joel had surprised you with a bath, of all things. He'd spend a day upstairs scrubbing down this tub so he could fill it with hot water, one bucket warmed up over the fire carried up after the other, the tub filling up painfully slowly. You'd walked up and down with him with each water delivery excitedly, watching how the water level slowly rose. Of course you had offered to carry some of the buckets yourself - it's for me, just let me do the work - but he had just shaken his head and grumbled at you. I got it.

It had felt so good, slipping into the warm water. You carefully used the strands of soap you had shaved off of the piece Joel had stashed in your backpack, taking your time as you slathered your body from head to toe. The warmth of the water relaxed your muscles. By the time you were done, you truly did feel like a new person.

You had spent the last three weeks in the same outfit, but now you slipped into the spare set that had been in your backpack. Complete with a fresh pair of panties and a fresh pad, you couldn't remember a time you'd felt so comfortable in the last three, now almost four weeks.

The drain gurgled as you let out your bath water. Soap, grime and blood all swirled around and then slowly disappeared down the creaky old pipes.

Joel sat downstairs by the fire as you came down. His gaze flickered up to you from his book as you stepped into the living room.

"How was it?"

You hesitated, unsure of how to express your gratitude. You pulled your sleeves over your hands, nestled around with the fabric in your fingers. "Like a whole new person," you said finally, a soft smile settling on your lips.

He could tell you meant it too. There was a sense of serenity about you that had been severely lacking the past two days - hell, the last couple of weeks. Joel hadn't known you all that long, but this was the first time you didn't seem tense.

"Mhh, I can tell. Might have to go through that whole hassle again, make me a new person too. Sure could do with a new pair of knees."

The bath didn't grant him a new set of knees, but he couldn't deny that he felt fresher than he had in weeks. He came down the stairs to tell you how you'd been right, running a hand through his damp locks to get 'em out of his forehead when he found you on the couch, a sour expression on your face as you stared up at the ceiling.

"Thought you said you felt all fresh," he commented as he sat down in the armchair again. He couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed at the sight of your frown. Hadn't he helped you feel good? You mumbled something under your breath, still staring at the ceiling.

"What's that now?"

You sat up with a sigh. "I said I did, right up until these fuck-ass cramps picked up again." Another one shot through your abdomen right then, like your uterus was giving you the finger for what you had said. You winced and closed your eyes, your nostrils flaring. Why, why had you been born a woman?!

"Back hurtin' you again?"

You nodded, unable to keep the pout from your lips. "The whole damn deal."

Joel knew. He knew he shouldn't. He'd done so well today, busying himself in completely taking apart his gun, cleaning it meticulously before setting it back together as you took your bath. The idea of you, laying in that tub in just your birthday suit - it had only appeared to him once, maybe twice. His hands had stayed out of his pants, he hadn't paid any new visits to the downstairs bathroom.

But now, you were in pain. He shouldn't offer. He'd done enough today, heaving bucket after bucket of scorching hot water up the steps to fill that tub for you. He'd done his share.

"Want me to have another go at it?"

God-damn-it, Miller. Pray she says no. What was he supposed to do? Let you suffer?

Damn right you should, he scolded himself.

"Would you? You've already done so much for me today. I couldn't impose on you like that -"

Damn right, you couldn't.

"Ain't no bother, sweetheart. C'mon. On your knees, like yesterday."

Diggin' yer own damn grave, that's what yer doin. And didn't he know it.

You were so compliant, so quick to get down on your knees in front of the couch. Joel had half a mind to put a stop to the images that were already flooding his mind at how swiftly you slid from the couch to the ground.

Sick old pervert. Gettin' off on commandin' a young little thing to get on 'er knees.

His joints ached as he dropped down on one, both knees behind you, once again glad for the fact that your head was already buried in the sofa cushions. He was sure the eagerness was written across his face, just short of some drool leaking down his chin.

Should be ashamed of yerself.

He would be, later. When he'd undoubtedly be curled over the bathroom counter once more, spray painting its remnants with his cum. He'd been so good today-

"Joel." You whined in front of him, lightly wiggled your hips as if to say get a move on. Joel found himself questioning once again if perhaps you did know what you were doing to him. "Alright, alright. Gettin' to it, kiddo. No need to whine."

Just like the day before, you melted like chocolate under his touch. Your tense body became pliant, coming loose under his strong thumbs digging into your back. Up your spine, up up up, from down around your tailbone all the way up to your ribcage. In his fingers dug, kneading through your skin and muscles like you were dough.

He'd pushed up your shirt a little higher this time, just an inch or two. You hadn't commented on it. Save for his name, you hadn't said anything since you'd gotten back down on your knees. With the first slump of your shoulders came your first moan, sweet and short, like you probably had moaned when you'd dipped your toes into the hot water first. Joel pressed his thumbs up your spine carefully, running his calloused tips deep into your tissue. A red trail followed his motions as your skin began to bloom under his touch.

Up and down, up and down. His fingers worked tirelessly into your aching back. Joel's brows were furrowed in concentration as he searched out the kinks in your muscles, finding the delicate spots that made you jump and keen. Whether you knew it or not, the words tumbling from your lips when he found a point that gave you trouble were like cocaine to him. Oh my god Joel, right there, fuck- and shit, yes, that's the spot- and right there, right there, oh good fucking god.

It took about three of your moans and one mumbled praise for his work until you'd hitched the tent in his pants again. Joel's cock twitched in his boxers as he dug into your back, begging to be set free. The tips of his ears were burning, set alight each time you commented on another knot he found in your back.

Sick old pervert.

He couldn't help it. Touching you was like drinking nectar. He'd never felt anything so delicate under his weathered hands, never before touched on skin so soft and warm -

"Fuck, Joel, right there. Oh god, yes. Don't stop, please."

You'd be the death of him.

"Tell me where it hurts, babygirl."

Your hands came around your back, shakily trying to locate the spots that bothered you. Joel backed up an inch so you wouldn't accidentally brush over his hard-on.

"S' in here-" Your hand flew over your lower spine, close to your tailbone, where Joel had already spent a good portion of his energy. "An' here-" You fingered over where your bra sat, then hunched up your shoulders. "-n' here, drawing all up into my neck." Your fingers trailed up your neck and got lost in your hair at the base of your neck.

"Mh." Joel tutted at you. "Got my work cut out for me, hu, darlin'?"

He saw your head beginning to turn towards him, likely to interject how he didn't have to, but he laid his hands on your shoulder blades instead, swiftly pushing you back down into the cushions. "Ah, ah. Ain't said I wasn't gonna do it. Relax, darlin'. I got you."

He could feel the grumble vibrate in your chest as he slid his fingers down your spine. "Mh. Lotta' spots givin' you trouble, mh?"

She said as much. Ya need te hear it again, sick old pervert?

"See if we can rectify that for ya, eh? Let Joel take care of ya."

He knew he was treading on thin ice, practically heard it cracking under his feet. His words bordered on dirty talk, but he just couldn't help himself. You gave your back to him so willingly, downright begging for his touch.

He was just a man, after all.

A sick, old, perverted man.

"Might wanna lose this, darlin'. Gonna be a relief for sure, n' I can't go rubbin' over it." Joel lightly tapped on the clasp of your bra over your shirt. He already knew he was going to hell anyway. And he really couldn't go on rubbing over your bra. Wouldn't have been comfortable, for you or him.

He'd expected you to object, had half expected a lecture (that he rightfully deserved), but none of that came. Instead, he watched you do that little wiggly move he'd seen women do before where they reach under their shirt and take their bra off without anything ever showing. It had always been one of his favorites to see. One second a woman would be wearing a bra, the next it got tossed across the room, not a single piece of clothing ever having gone amiss in the meantime. As far as Joel was concerned, it was a little magic trick.

And you pulled it off without a hitch. He tried not to look in too much detail as you put the garment next to you on the sofa. He had other things to focus on.

Wallpaper, wallpaper, hole in the wall, wallpaper, rusty nail, crooked crown molding. He could've fixed that easy, back in the day. Didn't need much more than the tools in his belt to do it. Would've made a fine job of it too.

Door frame. Tarnished, cracked. Long forgotten. He could take care of it, bring it back to life, with just a few touches here and there. Just a bit of straightening up the ridge, nothing too fancy. He could certainly do it, expert that he was, doing work with his hands. He'd bring the wood back in shape, love the wood like it was meant to be, gently work on it until it'd comply with his hands and mold to his touch, soft and warm-

No, no, strong and hard, like wood was supposed to be. Fuck, this was going nowhere.

Joel was doing all in his might to distract himself from how you were falling apart under his touch. Your moans didn't let up, praises flowing freely from your mouth as he slowly worked his way up your entire back, pushing more and more of your shirt out of the way until all of your back was exposed to him.

He was glued to the carpet where he knelt, afraid to even move an inch. If he looked hard enough, he could imagine the soft rounds higher on your torso, where shoulder blades softly gave way to what he was sure was a delightful pair of boobs-

No, nope, he wasn't gonna move. Couldn't risk it, not even an inch. If just the thought of your breasts sent his head careening, what would a mild case of side-boobs do to him? He couldn't risk it.

Pity what you consider 'standards', pervy old man.

He did what he could. And he was making you feel so good. You kept telling him so. That had to count for something, didn't it?

You wish.

Where was he, then?

Door frame. Right. Perhaps he'd have to replace parts of it. That'd be okay, too. He'd have to find wood to match the leftover structure - sand the original down, couple of times likely, then apply the stain. He could make sure the new and old pieces matched up that way-

"Fuck, Joel. Yes. Right there."

His head slumped down in defeat.

"Babygirl, please. Go easy on me. I can't do this no more." Joel's beard touched on his chest as he shook his head. "I can't - I'm tryin', I am -"

He heard you shift, felt the loss of your warm skin under his hands as you turned around in front of him. He couldn't look, just kept his eyes shut, not out of respect but-

Open yer damn eyes, you coward. See how she looks at you. Face your shame.

Joel forced his eyes open.

He wasn't met with shame, or even disgust. You had a worried look to you, like you couldn't quite figure out what had happened.

"Are you okay? I'm - I'm sorry, I knew I shouldn't have let you go on for so long, your hands must be hurting-" You felt awful. Joel looked like he was in actual pain. In all your bliss, you had let him work on your back for way longer than you had promised yourself, and he had overexerted himself.

"I'm so sorry, Joel," you started again, but then his hand flew up in the air, silencing you almost immediately. You looked at him with big eyes, trying to read his face. He was red all over from how exhausted he was.

Let an old man work for you like that, you should be ashamed. What are you, a princess?

"Joel-"

"Darlin', I ain't hurtin'. Is' - s' just - goddammit." You watched him run a tired hand over his face. Was it just you, or were the tips of his ears a slightly darker shade of red than the rest of his face?

Joel sighed. You looked at him with worried eyes. What had you done?

"Sweetheart, ain't about you workin' me to the bone. I don't mind that one bit. Trust me," he insisted as you opened your mouth to object. "S' about how you... how you respond to my touch."

You furrowed your brows. "Uh...huh?"

"Your moans, darlin'. They're just about killin' me."

...oh.

You felt your face flush red in a couple of seconds. Of course. How thoughtless of you.

"I'm - I'm real sorry, Joel, I didn't-" Joel shifted in front of you, visibly uncomfortable, and your eyes fell into his lap, widening at what you saw.

Oh.

If possible, you grew a couple shades darker in the face. You could feel the heat pulsating in your ears as your eyes flicked around the room, unsure of where to look. "I'm - uhh, sorry...?"

You heard Joel huff. "Will you quit apologizin'? S' fine. I'm the one that ought to be apologizin'. Ya didn't mean te-"

"You? You've been nothing but good to me all day! You did nothing wrong!"

Another huff of amusement. "I got a tent in my pants here that says otherwise."

Your eyes found his, decidedly staying on his face. "Yeah well, but that's... natural. Not like you're doing that on purpose."

"That bit, no. But I'd be lyin' if I said touchin' on you, workin' your back - that ain't just entirely for your benefit."

He figured if he went with the truth, he might as well come clean about it all. Half-truths had never really been Joel's thing.

He watched you work through his words, could practically see the gears in your head turnin'. He wouldn't have blamed you if you had told him off, hell, he was expecting your finger to come flying into his face any minute now.

"Alright."

He blinked, once, twice. Hu?

"Alright?"

You nodded, slowly at first, then more decidedly. "Alright. Yeah."

Joel's eye was twitching. "Uh... catch me up, darlin'. I got no idea what you mean."

"I mean, alright. Yeah. You can... do me. If you want to."

He watched the words come out of your mouth, heard them coming in through his ears, a faint ringing sound following them. Surely, he had to have heard wrong.

"Come again?"

A slow smile spread across your face. Joel watched it stretch out, like a cat waking up after a nap. The ringing sound in his ears wouldn't die down.

"I said, you can do me. Fuck me. Make love to me, whatever you wanna call it. You have my consent."

Well, now you've done it. You've broken the man.

Joel kept looking at you, a blank expression on his face. The silence between the two of you began to stretch so long that you were seriously beginning to worry.

"...Joel?" You snapped your fingers twice in front of his eyes. "Miller? You home?"

His eyes zeroed back in on you and you let out a sigh of relief. Not a stroke, then. Good. The tips of Joel's ears were burning a bright red. You had to bite down on your lips to keep from smiling.

"You... good?"

He nodded slowly. "Y-yeah. Sorry, sweetheart. Thought I heard you say I could do you there for a second. Fried my brain for a moment."

You couldn't help but chuckle at that. The mighty Joel Miller, feared by all, reduced to an abashed puddle by just a few of your words. Now wasn't that something to see.

"Probably cause I did. Do you need me to write you an invitation? Put my consent on paper? You surprise me, Miller. Didn't seem much to care for it when you pulled me in for that kiss on the stree-"

"Uh-uh." Joel suddenly growled and leaned forward, towering slightly over you on his arms. "None of that again. I paid my dues. Got you out. I drew you a damn bath, girly. What more do you want?"

His finger was right in your face, daring you to object to him. You bit down on your lips once more, trying not to grin at the reversed roles.

"I want you to help me with my cramps. Not on my back. In the front. Please?"

Look at that, you old fucker. Got her on her knees in front of you, begging you to take her. Ain't you a lucky old bastard.

And didn't he know it. Joel's tongue darted into his cheek as he looked you over, taking in your puppy eyes and slight grin that was surely meant to taunt him, but only spurned on the hitched tent in his pants. If you had been a sight to see while he drooled over you in secret, you were almost out of this world when you wanted him to touch on you. Like that.

He shifted around on his knees, a hand on his crotch to find a more comfortable position for his hardened cock that was straining to spring free. "Darlin' -" His voice was strained. "Not that I don't want to, but it wouldn't be right, me being that much older than you-"

Oh, so now you got standards, you pervy old man? Who are you trying to fool?

"Joel, do I need to beg?"

Yes darlin', please, on your knees, impatient and whining like when you were waiting for my hands on your back-

"Cause I will."

Lord have mercy.

Joel had you scooped up in his arms faster than you could blink, bringing you onto his lap in one swift motion, his old arms and knees suddenly very willing to be cooperating with him.

"No, sweetheart. Don't gotta beg," he said as he cupped your face with his hands, running a gentle finger over your cheek to tug a hair behind your ear. "Joel's got you. I'll help you with your cramps. No begging needed."

He looked at you a moment longer, determined to take all of it in. The way you were looking at him expectantly, a soft tint of color in your cheeks hinting at the fact that you were perhaps a bit nervous, the way your teeth bit down in your bottom lip. There was a glint in your eyes too, the kind he had seen when he had pleaded for you to work with him. You looked wicked, bewitching. You could've told him to lick the floor in that moment, and he would've done it, no questions asked.

Joel Miller was a goner for you.

No news there, you old fuck. Now get to it, before she changes her mind.

Joel took one last look at you before he gently tilted his head and put your lips on his. It was a gentle kiss, soft and probing, just testing the waters. He was dipping his toes in, seeing how you reacted to him.

Your lips met his hesitantly, just a blank, unmoving canvas at first, but then you came to life. He felt your lips beginning to move against his own, tentatively and careful, just like he had been. Joel's right hand slipped from your cheek to the back of your head to hold you tighter, his left thumb drawing soothing circles on your other cheek for comfort. I got you, darlin'. Let yourself fall, he was trying to say, and you seemed to understand, sighing and relaxing into him with your body.

Spurned on by your reaction, Joel nipped at your bottom lip, asking you to let him in. He didn't have to ask twice. Your lips promptly opened at his silent request, letting Joel's tongue in to taste the sweetness of your mouth.

My god, you tasted like heaven. Joel was certain he'd never tasted anything so sweet in his life before and he couldn't hold back the groan that had built in his throat. His hands flew down to your hips, securing you against him tightly, as he rocked forward to push himself up. "Hold on to me, sweetheart."

You were so obedient, legs swiftly gripping around his waist as he pushed himself up to heave you and himself on the couch. Joel grunted with the effort and from impatience. He couldn't wait to feel your legs wrapped around him like that without a barrier of fabric between them.

You were gently laid down in your preferred place for sulking, though you couldn't currently remember which, if any problems you had had in the past few days to complain about. Any and all period-related issues seemed to have flown right out of your mind the moment Joel had put his lips on yours, and your brain was too busy tracking the movement of his hands on your body to do anything else, even if it was just about 'remembering'.

He had laid you down on the sofa and had positioned himself over you with one knee between your legs, while he steadied himself with one foot on the ground. The couch wasn't very wide, but you didn't have it on your mind to complain, and neither did Joel. Not that you would've had any time to complain either. Joel was too busy by keeping your mouth occupied with his own while his hands traveled up and down your body as if he was trying to map out all your curves and dips. He must've had more than just two hands, the way he was feeling you up, his hands seemingly everywhere on you at once, brushing over your shoulder, running up the side of your neck to tug on your hair at the base of your neck, holding you at your waist to steady you, then gently cupping your breast before giving it a careful squeeze. There wasn't any part of you that remained untouched and all you could do was try to remember how to breathe in between moans.

"Joel," you panted when he'd abandoned your lips in favor of your neck, trailing down kisses towards your collarbone where he nipped at the skin and then promptly brought his lips down on the harsh mark, soothing what little pain he caused you. There was a growing need between your legs, your arousal mixing with your wetness from your period. You felt a tug in your abdomen, decidedly different from the cramps you had been experiencing for the past days. While also slightly painful, this one was born out of want. You wanted Joel inside of you - no, needed him inside of you.

So you're an old-people fucker now? Yeah?

Apparently, you were, if Joel Miller could be described as "old". He certainly felt anything but as his hands glided under your shirt and found one of your breasts, his thumb and index finger trailing up the soft skin until they found your nipple to take between them, rolling it gently between his finger tips. You moaned into Joel's mouth at the sensation, bucked your hips up into him. Needy, needy, needy. You needed him.

Old-people fucker. Yep.

"I got you, darlin'. I got you," he reassured you when you ground your hips against him, willfully. "Just gotta sample everything on the menu first, before we get to the desert. I got you, sweetheart. Relax."

You whined at his murmured words. You couldn't relax, it was the furthest thing from your mind when there was a pool of heat between your legs that you needed to be cooled down.

"Ah, now." Joel tutted in your ear as you writhed beneath him. "Patience, darlin'. You trust me, don't you?"

You pushed your bottom lip out in response. Of course you trusted him. But that didn't mean you couldn't ask him to hurry the fuck up?

There was a light smack on your cheek before you knew it. You blinked, feeling the stinging sensation before heat spread through your cheek where his fingers had struck you.

"I set the pace. You hear me, sweet cheeks?" Joel's beard prickled against your tingling skin as he pressed soft and gentle kisses on your blooming cheek. "'Nough with the impatience. I got you. I'll take care of you. You gotta trust daddy Joel."

Fine, perhaps he got a little carried away with his smack, but you didn't seem to mind, not severely anyway. He watched you closely just in case, looking for signs that you were uncomfortable or wanted him to stop, but even though you'd looked mildly shocked after he had struck your cheek, your eyes had soon glazed back over with bliss as he worked your nipples between his fingertips. Attagirl.

Joel felt like a kid on Christmas morning, the way he got to undress you piece by piece. It was like tearing off wrapping paper, except he didn't tear through your clothes (not for a lack of want - he'd have scoured the down for new clothes for you if he didn't know that was just a tad overboard) but carefully slipped them off of you, piece by piece, step by step. With each garment of fabric that got discarded on the floor, he got to unearth more and more of you. More of your delicate and soft skin that he had been lucky enough to get a taste of from behind as early as the previous day.

He got stuck on your boobs for a good long while, drawn in by the sight as soon as he pushed your shirt up over them. It was just too good of a sight to pass up, and he had to get a taste to commit your breasts to his memory for good. He sampled one boob first, kissing up from below it and working his way towards your areola, taking his time with your nip as he whirled his tongue around it, even gently pulled on it with his teeth.

Joel couldn't decide what he liked better, the way you felt and tasted under his tongue or how your body responded to him, writhing and rocking up towards him to meet his mouth, the sweetest moans and whimpers falling from your lips as he mapped out your torso with his tongue. It was a hard decision, and he kept falling back and forth between it.

He knew he was pushing your patience by sound of your moans changing. They got breathier and whinier as he went on, sampling your other breast in the same slow and painstakingly precise way he had the other, and he could hear how worked up you were getting, your whines rising in pitch with every stroke of his tongue.

"Joel, please."

He chuckled, drew himself up to meet your pleading look at eye-level. "Gettin' there, sweetheart. I promise." Joel watched your bottom lip push out once more into that delightful pout of yours. He dipped down to suck on it, pulling your plump lip in between his and nibbling softly on it before capturing you in another sloppy kiss.

If it hadn't been for the stark reminder in his pants, he would've worked you over until you were nothing but a whimpering mess underneath him, begging for him with tears in your eyes, but alas, he was nearing the end of what he could take as well.

There was only so much he could do to your upper body before he inevitably got pulled downwards to where you wanted him most, needed him most.

You all but scrambled to help him get out of your pants as he tucked the fabric down your hips, your bottom springing up into the air when he tapped a cheek and nudged his head upwards. "Up, babygirl." A low chuckle rumbled through his chest as he pulled your pants down your legs, carefully slipping them off your feet. "Needy little thing, aren't ya. Mhh, me too, darlin'. Can't wait either." He lightly grabbed your calf and helped your leg up on his shoulder, peppering kisses up your shin towards your knee.

You fumbled with his hair when he continued his trail up your thigh, stopping him when he was more than halfway towards his target. Joel looked up at you from between your legs, his hand running up and down your leg that was holstered on his shoulder. "Somethin' wrong, babygirl?"

You mumbled something unintelligibly, color blooming in your cheeks without his palms ever having come near either of them. You were too quiet for him to hear all of it, but he could make out a few words here and there. Period and all he heard and don't wanna make a mess and the smell.

Joel kissed your thigh again, not nearing your core. "Don't gotta worry about that, hun. Ain't nothing I'd care about. But I'm not gonna do somethin' you don't want. Alright?" He looked at you, made sure you saw the sincerity in his eyes. You fumbled around with your fingers, visibly uncomfortable. Joel kissed your thigh once more.

"Ain't gonna do anythin' you don't like," he repeated and brought himself up again so he was hovering over your torso once more, lavishing kisses on any piece of skin he could find on his way, save for where your panties kept you hidden from him. He made sure to move around it with enough distance that you knew he took you seriously, honored your boundaries. He still had standards.

Low fuckin' standards. More like bare fuckin' minimum.

If anyone had told you you'd be under Joel fucking Miller three weeks ago, you'd have laughed at them and asked them if they'd had one too many helpings of moonshine. Yet here you were, stark naked from top to bottom, laid out for him to see like an exhibition piece under no one else than Joel fucking Miller, about to fuck you.

It was as much as a surprise to you as his tenderness had been. Besides the strike on your cheek (which, the more you thought about it, you didn't really mind) he was being more than soft and gentle with you, working over every spot of you with a dedication and mind for detail that you had never encountered before. You had been exceedingly grateful when he had heeded your wishes about not coming close to your core with his mouth, and it could have been your imagination, but he had seemed even more gentle with you when he slowly coaxed your panties off of you, praising you and leaving kisses all over as he went. You'd never been called so many pet names in one day, let alone within the two minutes it took him to get you out of your underwear. Doin' so good, darlin' and you're so beautiful, sweetheart and never felt a thing so soft, tasted anything so sweet had been among the many, many things he'd purred at you.

Now he was lining himself up at your entrance, kneeling on the sofa with one leg while he steadied himself with the other on the ground as he softly padded the tip of his cock against your soaking folds. You still didn't feel too keen about being out in the open like that, blood just leaking out of you unstopped, but Joel seemed to have an answer for that too.

"Gonna draw you another bath afterwards, mh, pretty girl? Get you all cleaned up nice?" He dipped just the bare tip of his slightly leaking head between your lower lips, gently dragging it up and down, coating himself in what you were sure was a bloody mess. While picturing what was leaking out of you made you tense up slightly, Joel seemed blissed out at the sighed of it. You could see the glint in his eyes, the hunger that was written all over his face as he dragged his cock up and down through your slick, coating himself and more of you in it.

"Ain't that the prettiest cunt I ever did see," he mumbled, his eyes transfixed on your entrance. You felt your cheeks bloom once more, both from the compliment and embarrassment you felt. It was a strange sensation, to feel so flattered and put on the spot at the same time.

Joel didn't give you much more time to think about it though. You flinched when you suddenly felt his warm tip tapping against your clit, gently but forceful enough to send tiny sparks flying through you. "There she is," he said and you saw the smile draw across his face. "Saw you getting all lost in your own pretty head, darlin'. Can't have you zoning out now, we're just getting to the good part." He lightly tapped against your clit once more, a sly grin taking over when he saw how you inhaled sharply at the sensation.

"With me now, sweet cheeks? Ready for me to come inside?"

Joel fucking Miller, a man full of surprises, as you had come to learn. Looks like he could learn after all.

"Yeah," you breathed out and shook your head eagerly. "Yes, please."

You saw his eyes darken as you renewed your consent. A growl sounded from his chest and he quickly dipped down once more, surprising you with another fierce kiss. "Attagirl."

You felt him align himself with your entrance once more, the tip of his length pressing against your aching entrance. "Eyes on me, sweet cheeks," he murmured and your eyes quickly flew to meet his, not wanting to do anything that could stop him from what he was about to do. A kiss was placed on the edge of your lips. "Good girl. Listening to me so good. Makin' me real happy, you know that?"

You gasped as you felt Joel slowly pushing into you. It was a good stretch, on the brink of too much, but he took it slow, pushing in inch by inch while he peppered your chin with more kisses in between murmured praises. "Look at you, taking me so well. Doin' so good, sweetheart. S' a bit of a stretch, hm? Yeah? Pretty thing like you, all tight for big ole' me?" More kisses rained down on your face, Joel's beard tickling over your cheeks as he kissed down your nose, teeth nipping at your lips. "God, you feel so good," he breathed out and you watched in awe as his eyes fluttered close. He was filling you out more and more and you wondered how much more there could possibly be of him as he kept gently pushing into you.

Joel stilled as he bottomed you out, the tip of his cock pressing into you deeply. You could feel it deep inside of you, a gentle push on a spot you alone could never reach, not even dream of reaching. Your breath was shallow, trying to get acclimated to his width.

You felt Joel's beard brush against your face as his head dipped down. "God, darlin'. Takin' me so good. Let me come in all the way, didn't ya? Such a good girl." Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt him retract slightly, the gentle pressure on your inside slowly retreating as Joel slowly pulled himself out of you. Not all the way, no, just enough to make you worry he could, but then his teeth were softly nipping at your chin and you were being stretched out again as he caaarefully drove himself back inside of you.

You made something of a gurgling sound as your eyelids fluttered close while your eyes rolled backwards into your skull. It was the most excruciatingly slow pace he could've taken, and though you knew - guessed - he was doing it on purpose for you, not to tease you, you couldn't help but yearn for more, and faster.

Your hands flew up to Joel's back to pull him closer to you. Would you not have had Joel's penis painfully slowly plowing into you at this moment, perhaps your movements would have been more coordinated. But alas, your hands fumbled all over the place, pulling and grabbing at him in an attempt to get him down to your face so you could kiss him, to hopefully spurn him on to get a move on. You groaned into Joel's mouth when your lips connected at the same time as he met your insides with the tip of his cock once more.

"Fuck, Joel."

He grinned like a stupid school boy as he heard you curse. Hadn't he dreamt of this just a night ago, hunched over the broken bathroom sink? Even if he had imagined it, he never could've imagined this, the real deal. Filling you out with every inch of him was so much better than he ever could've dreamt up himself. Where your moans had been like cocaine to him, your pussy was just straight up heroine. One push inside of you and he knew he was a goner, lost to your pussy forever. He would never feel anything like it anywhere else, that much, he knew.

"Yeah, baby? That feel good?" He kissed your ear as he pulled himself back out, then drove back into you. It was an agonizingly slow pace, but he wanted to savor every moment of it, drag it out for as long as he could. Who knew if you would allow him such a delicacy ever again? He had to make the moment last.

You nodded below him, your cheek rubbing against his scruff as you did. "S'so good, Joel," you murmured against his ear. "But faster, please. Please go faster."

Now how could he say no to such a kind request?

Joel felt his knee object as he adjusted his position on the sofa, preparing himself to fuck into you faster.

Not now.

He didn't have time for aching joints and other ailments. Not when he had you below him, asking him to go faster. Now who was he if he denied a pretty girl like you a favor like that?

A sensible man instead of a pervy old fuck, perhaps?

No. He'd have been a heartless old fuck, that's who.

He grounded himself into the floor with one foot and then got to work. Never mind his fifty-six year old hips. Never mind his aching, complaining knee. He had a job to do, and he was gonna do it.

Joel fucked into you like his life depended on it. He gradually increased his pace until the old sofa was creaking and shrieking underneath the two of you, but those weren't the sounds he was listening for. His hearing was attuned to you instead, carefully dissecting each moan and groan that fell from your lips. What did you like more? What made you groan, what made your fingers dig into his back?

Joel acutely listened to the cues of your body, your verbal ones taking the lead while the rest did their own speaking. He didn't care that your nails pierced the skin on his back, or that you drove your teeth into his forearm, likely leaving a bite mark that would last him a day. It'd be a kind reminder of the gift you were giving him, and had he not been pounding into you at this very moment, he likely would have fantasized about giving the old bathroom another run while staring at the bite on his arm, perhaps running his tongue over the indents in his skin that you were so kindly imprinting at the moment.

"That's right, babygirl, take what you need," he encouraged you and did his best to give you what you needed too. He had heard about it once, how cervical stimulation could help with period cramps, and he could only hope he was alleviating your pain in the same way you made him forget about all his aching joints. Joel wasn't fifty-six as he drove himself into you again and again, he was twenty-five at best, fucking his heart into your pussy like she owned it.

"Joel - Joel -," you whined underneath him and he laid a gentle hand on your face, turning your chin with his thumb so you'd look at him. "Whaddaya need, babygirl? Hm?" He never stopped his pace, never slowed down so you could think better. Joel watched your brows furrow as you tried to form a coherent sentence.

"I'm - Joel, think I'm gonna -"

"You gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Yeah?" Even though his instinct was to lower himself on you so he could kiss on you again, he knew better than to change his pace or angle now. If he was lucky enough to be able to gift you with an orgasm, he wouldn't pass that chance up, even if it meant to starve himself of your lips.

Your face was scrunching up like you were thinking real hard. Moans were no longer falling in a steady stream from your lips, but Joel didn't worry. He'd been with enough women to know the signs, knew that you were getting close. Even though he missed your moans, excitement tightened his chest as he drove himself into you again and again, hoping to push you over the finish line. It'd be the best damn thing he'd ever done.

He felt you clenching around his dick, your walls cramping down around him more and more as your breath hitched in your chest coherently. One, two, three more pushes, and Joel saw the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his life. You fell apart underneath him, moan after moan flowing from your heavenly lips right into his ear, jumbling into one another as your orgasm rocked through you. Joel bit down on his tongue hard, the sight and sound of your climax enough to make him cum right there and then, but he was determined to fuck you through it. He owed you that much.

"That's right, babygirl, let go," Joel cooed as you convulsed underneath him, wave after wave of pleasure slowly rolling through you. He fucked you through it like he promised himself he would, then slowed in unison with your ebbing ecstasy, despite his dick yelling at him to keep going.

Not now. He had other things to focus on.

Joel leaned down to kiss your blissed out face. First your forehead, then each closed eye, down your nose, over your right cheek, left cheek, the corner of your mouth. You kissed him back lazily when he finally landed on your lips, a satisfied hum vibrating in your throat.

"You good, darlin'?" Joel searched your face as you slowly blinked up at him. He ran a thumb over your cheek, drawing small circles on your soft skin.

He didn't care that he hadn't finished. He could do that later, in the bathroom when you were asleep. Of course, nothing would feel as good as your silken walls wrapped around his cock - but that would be fine, too. He'd have all of this to remember, to draw from for the rest of his life, if need be.

You nodded slowly, a sheepish smile on your face now that you had come down from your high. "Yeah. Think I made a mess of you though."

Joel looked down at his pelvis. He was covered in your blood and slick, tinting his pubic hair a deep shade of red. "Don't you worry about that, sweet cheeks. Nothing some water can't clean up. Want me to run you another bath?"

Periods aren't fun, that much was true.

But you couldn't help but think that perhaps, they weren't the worst thing in the world, now that you laid in a bathtub full of warm water, while Joel Miller slowly massaged your upper body.

Having your period in the apocalypse could prove as a challenge, but it helped to have help. Help like Joel Miller, who washed your pads and massaged your back and fucked you deeply to help with your cramps if you asked him.

Yeah, perhaps periods aren't the worst thing in the world, you thought as you tipped your head up and pulled Joel in for a kiss. You could certainly survive another period or two this way.

Series Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

Credits: plant divider by @strangergraphics

A/N: Yep, part two out not even a full two days later because I could not stop thinking about this fic. This is only the second time ever I've written smut (not counting part 1 of this mini-series?) and I would highly appreciate some feedback! (Don't hold back on the criticism too if you got any, I can take it!) This fic was definitely very much influenced by @strang3lov3's 'Seeing Red' story which I highly, highly recommend, and the fact that I was on my own period. Also, if anyone's wondering, I couldn't stop thinking about these goddamn gifs so I had to bring the cheek biting into this. 🥵 Now, none of this is proof-read so I apologize for any typos etc. Hope you had fun reading this! Please leave a comment if you did 🫶💓

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[petew21-blog]

Leather up!

David sat on the concrete wall, waiitng for the buyer to arrive. He put up a post recently to sell his Kawasaki Ninja and get a brand new one. The price was high, but he loved his motorcycle and wanted to get the most of it.

The time of arrival of this secret buyer has already passed, but he was nowhere to be seen. David checked the message with coordinates and was sure that he was at the right place.

David was already sweating in his racing leathers.

He got up and checked the other side just to make sure, that he wasn't crazy.

"All right, you had enough time. I am leaving." he sent back, but the other person didn't open the message.

As soon as David looked away from his phone, he noticed a wet mark on the concrete as if something made it's way towards him. As if a giant snail crawled there. But there was nothing in sight.

David jumped of the ledge and headed to his motorcycle. But his leg was itching. He stopped and wanted to scratch it, but it was way too low. He took off his boot and was immediately shocked. A tiny green goo tail disappeared under the leather, crawling up his leg. "What the..."

David quickly unzipped himself and tried to take the leather suit off, but the goo already made his wait into his ass. He tried pushing at it to make it go away, but it didn't help.

He felt the last parts of the goo disappear in him. The goo stretched and massaged his prostate. He collapsed on the grown and screamed. It wass a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"No! Please! Somebody!!! Help!!!"

David felt weaker by the second. There was no stopping this, no one nearby to help him. David took his last weak breath and closed his eyes.

"Finally!!! I thought you would never let go." David's voice said while getting up from the ground. His indefference was now replaced with an awe and admiration for himself. He checked out his new leather suit and flexed, just to see how tight everything was.

His hand grabbed his bulge over the leather. "I just hope you're a grower, David. I hoped for a full package." his hand let go and made its way under the leather. "Oh fuck yeah. I was hoping you'd be really sweaty. Jackpot."

He walked over to the motorcycle and looked back at himself in the mirror. "I am you. I am DAVID. I hope you can see me David. I am about to destroy your life. So sit tight and enjoy the ride."He started the engine and headed out.

James:"It really worked? Are you really this guy right now? Or did my friend just pay you money to prank me?"

David's body:"Would a random guy just come up to you and showed off himself to you? Let you touch his dick?"

James:"Ok, yeah you're right. How did you even get his body? Can I do that too?"

"No. I'll keep that to myself. Now. How about you get on your knees. You seem parched. Let me fill your mouth."

David screamed, but the fucker that stole his body probably didn't hear him. All David could do was just watch as his previously straight body now participated in gay sex. His dick being burried in this guy's mouth. The fucker even kept him in the leather still.

Before the guy could cum all over the other guy's face, he took David's dick and came over the leather. After a moment of hyperventilating from the exhaustion, the other guy asked. "You're not gonna go clean that? It might make a stain."

David's body:"No,I'll keep it there."

Little did the know that the cum, slowly drying out on the surface, contained the remnants of David's soul.

[puck-luck]

Quinn, Diamonds, Prompt #9 (option to include #1 - both are so good!!) 🫶🏻

warnings: using a camera during sexual acts, dirty talk WC: 575

“Aw, baby, this is just what you needed, huh?” Quinn asks, smirking devilishly through his grainy reflection. “You’ve been so stressed. That’s all over with now, right?”

You nod mindlessly, grinding back on his cock. You’d been preparing for this interview all week, over-preparing to the point that you’d be able to answer any hypothetical question that your (hopefully) future employer could throw at you. 

Quinn had helped you, of course. He’s a doting boyfriend who wants what’s best for you and he’ll help you in any way we can. Part of helping you was the promise of stress relief, or a reward for doing so well after you complete your interview. You had chosen the big reward, wanting to focus on prepping for your interview rather than getting distracted by sex, and Quinn had told you to trust him. 

After your interview ended, he closed your computer and replaced it with his own. He opened his camera and had you center yourself in frame, the way you had when you were talking with the hiring managers a few minutes before. Then, Quinn had done something surprising. He had stood behind you and kissed over your neck until you were melting into his touch. 

Then he’d unbuttoned your shirt, revealing your “pretty tits” and the bra that confines them. He’d cradled their weight in his hands, still kissing over the sensitive skin that covers your pulse point.

It hadn’t taken him long to get you standing. He’d pushed the chair away from you, then bent you over the edge of the desk with a gentle, guiding hand. Then, he had rid you of your pants and pulled your panties to the side, crooning into your ear as he entered you with a finger.

���My smart girl,” Quinn had said. “So capable. You killed it, baby.”

A second finger. “They’d be stupid not to hire you after that interview. Almost as stupid as you’re going to be when I’m done with you.”

It was a promise and he’s made good on it so far– he’s at the point where he’s long since abandoned using his fingers and is now fucking into you with sharp, precise thrusts. You’re clenching down on his cock like you’re trying to milk the cum out of him. Your moans are echoing throughout the bedroom, and occasionally Quinn will remind you to look at yourself on the screen.

“What would they think, baby, if they could see you now?” Quinn asks, bringing a hand to the back of your head and gripping your hair. “You think they’d like the show? Make you CEO right away just because you look so pretty when you’re squeezing my cock?”

“Oh my God,” you whimper, blushing at the mere idea of it. Quinn loves to humiliate you a little bit, especially after a hard week for you. It makes you looser, louder, more eager to come. He knows how to erase all of your thoughts with just a few words.

“Nah, you’d never let that happen,” Quinn muses. “Only I get to see you like this, isn’t that right?”

“Only you, Quinn,” you agree breathlessly, your head dropping forward again to rest on your forearms, entirely fucked out. 

“Ah-ah, baby,” Quinn corrects, pulling your head back up with a disapproving shake of his head. “Let the camera see your face when you come. I want to watch this back next time I go out of town.”

[magic-can]

You bring up an unfortunate but very true fact. I’ve seen people say “my senator is a republican what’s the point” when 1. many democrats are zionists (like Chuck Schumer, who is one of my senators since I live in NYS, ugh) and 2. you can still convince them if you appeal to their beliefs enough. I’ve also heard people say that the money we send to Israel can be going to homeless veterans (which is absolutely true btw, fuck the military but it is genuinely disgusting how veterans are treated as disposable and left to fend for themselves with awful PTSD) so if you want to appeal to their patriotism while also making a legitimately good point, you can go with that.

Senators are going to vote on whether or not we should continue to send aid to Israel on Wednesday, November 13th. Call them, bombard their phone lines with calls. Every fucking day. We have a chance of doing something about this.

[evilfrogcereal29]

Pizza guy!Nikto - Chapter 1

(ok... This is going to be like, maybe one of the most weirdly specific fanfics you've ever read. For context: I work at a pizza place IRL. Thats it. Thats the only context. I was at work and. Thought about Nikto working there too. That's all you need to know. Enjoy :]!!!

This is going to be a Nikto x GN!customer!reader, but reader is NOT introduced in this chapter.

Cw/tws: mentions of violence- including towards an animal! I think thats all? Enjoy :)!!

NOTE: all text in red & italics are Nikto's voices

Nikto was bored.

Retirement was miserable, and Nikto found himself restless day in, and day out. Unable to find peace while wasting away at home. Sure, he had lot's of retirement money, but he had this urge to work, to kill. He would give anything to be on a plane to another mission right about now, but he was too 'broken'. That's what they basically told him. Too mentally unwell to keep working. A hazard to his own team.

Heh.

What the fuck do they know? They don't know what goes on in his head. So what he broke that recruit's arm? They touched him when he warned them of the consequences. Or who cares that he hit one of his higher-up's service dogs with the buggy? It should've been servicing it's owner, not under the damn vehicle! He's not a danger, the other voices are!

Speaking of voices, they aren't reacting well either, metaphorically biting away at Nikto's psyche each day he did fucking nothing. He felt useless, and they reminded him of that. You idiot, you deserve your suffering for being the way you are. Broken. Broken little solider.

He still gets calls from his mates in the service, especially Krueger, who always makes sure to call as often as possible to keep the man updated on missions, even if they didn't concern him anymore. He suggested that Nikto pick up a part-time job, not for the money, but the work. God (and Krueger) only knows what Nikto's mind gets upto when left to its own devices.

Nikto scoffed at first, he didn't like the idea of working at some measley fast food job, he was above that. He crawled through the fucking trenches and ripped out the throats of women and men, and would be reduced to... What? Cleaning a fucking stove? Heating up processed foods for weak civilians? No. He wouldn't. The voices mocked him, this is what we've been reduced to? Patheic.

And then the rot set in.

Krueger had been very insistant on a visit the second he had time away from work, flying out to see Nikto even as the man ignored his texts and calls. He wasn't dead, Krueger knew that, but he also wasn't in a good place. He couldn't let his companion live like this pathetic slob. Cause that's exactly what he was becoming.

Water and alcohol bottles littered the floor, stacks on stacks of old, half eaten take-out. Junk that should’ve been tossed long ago created walled barriers throughout the house. It was a scene out of horders, and the smell was awful. Christ. Krueger was no clean freak, but this? He'd rather sleep next to corpses than this cesspool of rotting filfth, and in the middle of it all, sat his balaclava-ed, smelly friend on the sofa. Krueger grimmaced, taking careful steps. He nearly stepped on poor Sputnik, who had become content with spending her days lazying about, peeing in places without Nikto's knowledge, and eating off his leftover scraps of food, growing just as lethargic as her owner.

"Nikto... Scheiße..” he would almost be outraged at the man’s carelessness if he didn’t understand how the other functioned, without a job, without a purpose, Nikto was truly a nobody. He lifted the man’s head with a gentleness, an action only someone like Krueger could get away with, looking into those glazed-over icy blues.

“This is… this is bad Nikto..” he mutters, eyes filled with..love? Concern? Something Nikto wasn’t used to often. Nikto finally shows evidence of life as his eyes flicker up in wordless understanding. Krueger continues,

"I can't stand to see you like this. You can't stand being like this. I'm going to help you."

Krueger lifts his friend up, albiet with mild arguing and growling from the disguntled bear of a man that Nikto is. He sets Nikto's cheap laptop on his lap and types in job sites, which already has Nikto tense.

"Krueger- чёрт побери! you're acting like my fucking mother-"

"good, about time someone comes in and wipes your ass, if not yourself." Krueger grumbles, scrolling through the job offers, "what's your SNILS...?"

After a painstaking back and forth, and Krueger prying for all of Nikto's personal info, he sent in a few applications on his friend's behalf. Patting the other on the back as Nikto's thumbs rubbed at his temples, fighting back the urge to pulverize his only real friend. You really should, he's a nuisance...

"this is... Not ideal.." Nikto finally grumbles, finishing the last of some lukewarm whisky from the bottle.

"none of this is, meine freund, but this...Is worse." Noone has ever seen them like this, so...domestic. In reality, this was as hard for Krueger as it was for Nikto, The Alligence wasn't the same without the Russian, fighting wasn't the same. Krueger rested a hand on his shoulder.

"everything is going to change, can you try to change a little with it?"

Change? Krueger wanted him to change? Was that even possible? He'd been so set in his ways ever since the incident. But the look in Krueger eyes let Nikto know that there wasn't really a choice.

What are you kidding? You could change as far as you could throw a boulder! Never!

He sighed, deeply. His shoulders slumping miserably as he exhaled.

"fine. But If we don't like the job-"

"ja, ja, you don't have to stay. I get it. I can't make you." He interupted, waving his hand dismissively, "but don't just give up right away. Can you promise me that?"

Nikto hated making promises, he hated feeling like he owed anyone anything, he didn't take on debts or deals. Go ahead, make more promises you can't keep. We know the truth.

Yet here he was, being interviewed by an elderly couple, who pitied him for his past as a solider.

"me and Martha are going to see how you fair in the kitchen, and if that's turns out to be too overwhelming we can move you to a more simple job like delivery. Just bring the customers their pizzas." The eldery man said with an acknowledging smile.

He nodded to the man, Michael, reaching across the table to shake his hand, thanking him begrudgingly for this... 'Opportunity'. Thats damn well what it was, but Nikto didn't quite see it that way yet. As he left with a work shirt displaying the place's name and logo, he felt his heart drop. And a shrill, annoying voice invading his mind.

You are truely a fucking Развалюха. Good luck ever trying to live a normal life!

And now Nikto was worried.

------------------------------------------------------

Hai :3 I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, I wanted to introduce reader in this first part but it was getting long and I also just wanted to get something out. There will be more chapters for this, but they might be kind of slow to come out😭 work takes up a LOT of my time tbh, but also working inspires me cause...yk pizza place setting so- its a double edged sword. But if you enjoyed pls like and reblog it means sm♥️♥️ ty for reading!!

And to the person who sent me an ask in my inbox about the relationship dynamics between NiktoKrueger + criminal!reader, I see u and ur creative vision, I started writing something today in response ;) just gimme some time!!!

Also an @ list for some mooties who I think would like to see this :3

@simp4konig @lizzy019 @fishsinsareacknowledged @zoloftwithdrawalnausea sorry If I missed anyone, lmk if you'd like to be tagged (or not tagged) in future chapters!!

[icarusredwings]

COUGH COUGH

Guilty.. for loving someone so different and yet the same. For thinking about that plane ride. Thinking about the late nights when he would pop his head under, talking to him from the top bunk.

“Hey Howlett, You want a bite? I stole it from Mr. Claws over there.” He said, with the biggest, kindest smile, one side bigger than the other. Reaching his hand down, it held what looked like a sweet roll.

“Do you have a death wish?” He had growled back then, his arms behind his head.

The upside down man just laughed, shrugging. “Ha! Don't we all? Oh shit- here he comes - Shh!”

That night, he remembered thinking that Wade might understand him. The only difference between those funny grins now was that this Wade had blue eyes and soft crow feet, a bigger crease in his face from how much he's smiled in this life.. something the gentle chocolate lab of his universe's Wade never got to experience..

"You! What did I say about taking my shit!?" His brother growled, trying to drag the man off of the bunk only for Wade to have such an excited glint in his eyes. Like he thought this was all a game at camp or something..

"Wooh! Watch out! kitty's got claws! And he's PISSED!" He announced, loud enough for Stryker to shout at them to settle down for bed and scold Wade, telling him to knock it off or he'd let Victor maul him.

"You heard him... Let him go, Vic." He muttered. "You don't even like those things."

"That's not the point, and you know it. He knows what he's doing." His brother snarled towards the bunk.

"Leave him, or you'll piss off the colonel.." He says in return, the lights being shut off by now. He hears him growl under his breath, walking away with his claws clentched into his fist.

Closing his eyes, Logan was only met with the little shits tags danging over the edge with such a shit eating grin. "Aye, thanks for defending me, back there."

By now, his own growls left his throat. "I didn't do shit, Wilson, now go the fuck to bed before I kill you myself."

"Awww, you love me too much for that, and you know it." He teased.

Logan snorts. "Tch. Yeah, right.."

Pulling himself back up, he was quick to lay down, finally still and silent.. but never for long.

"Night, Logan.."

He whispered. And right then and there Logan should have known not to walk away. He should have known to stay. He should have said goodnight..

He could have snitched on him that night. Let Victor slice him up. Maybe he didn't because he just didn't want to deal with it, but.. maybe it was fondness.

A fondness that he didn't bother chasing.. one he walked away from. Just like everything else..

COUGH COUGH

Aw damn it, I coughed up the complicated feeling of regret and second chances regarding worst wolvies affections for orgins wade!

Dag nab it! Not again!

[reallyromealone]

Part 3 to surprise you’re a dad plz 🥺

Title: surpsie you're a dad 3

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: Haitani brothers

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: Rindō x male reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, pregnancy, birth, angst, fluff, good uncle ran

Notes: short chapter low brain energy

Summary: birth and hard conversations

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

"Six weeks?"

"At minimum" the doctor said simply "and he isn't to lift anything heavier than his pup" Rindō and Ran nodded, glancing at a fast asleep (name) who just finished feeding the tiny baby that was (daughters name), said baby was tucked in Rans arms as Rindō was terrified of holding her.

It had been three hours and Rindō could barely look at his child or his mate, he was terrified.

He didn't know what to do in this situation.

He didn't know how to be a dad!

And Ran was somehow a way better parent figure to his kid and he was an uncle!

Ran watched his brother, he could see the things going on in his head and the stress he was under "you know you got this, right?" Ran said honestly, big brother mode activating while looking at his terrified baby brother, seeing the young boy who he always made sure had a meal on his plate. "Look at her" Ran said simply, gazing at the tiny bundle "this kid is a Haitani, she is one of us and as you're dad it's your duty to be better than ours could ever be" his voice serious while he gently put Rindōs daughter in his arms "she's so small..." Rindō choked out, holding her close and sitting in a chair "she is, even if you and (name) don't work, she will always be a consistent and by proxy so will he"

"Yeah..."

"Serious question, Rinny" Rans voice was methodical while gently tracing the wisps of hair from his nieces head "do you want it to work with (name)?" He asked so calm and collected while Rindō sighed "I fucked up enough" he grumbled out and Ran snorted "you sure did, you called him a whore in so many new fun ways! It's going to take a lot to earn his trust"

"I don't think he will, how would I even get him to do that?"

"Maybe start with an apology"

"An apology?" Rindō was incredulous and Rindō rolled his eyes and leaned into his chair "we are hardened criminals, we do what we want but he is the mother to your child, he is your mate" Ran said seriously "our world means nothing compared to family, an apology can fix a lot of things and open many doors" ran said before leaning close and locking eyes with his younger brother before whispering;

"So apologize"

And with that, Ran stood up and pulled his cigarette holder "I'm leaving now, you better make sure he isn't being stupid or I swear to god"

And with that, Rindō was left in the room with his sleeping mate who hated him and his infant daughter who gurgled up at him, wide eyed "hey..." He whispered and gently took the babies finger "I'm your dad..." He whispered to the little girl who looked at him with nothing but pure curiousity and Rindō couldn't help but smile at this pup.... His pup.

He was a dad now.

Looking up he stared at (name), the Omega spent and out cold in the comfortable bed with many pillows ran made sure (name) had.

Ran was right, he was so obsessed with (name) when he met him at that party... He was absolutely stunning...

Would (name) forgive him?

He was awful to him even up to the birth...

(Name) Held onto his son while being discharged, Ran returning with a BMW armored van and a shit eating grin "there's my beautiful neice~" ran cooed while he and Rindō helped (name) get situated, (name) glaring at Rindō while the Alpha buckled in (daughters name) into her car seat "I got you two some food! Also I stocked up your fridge, (name)!" Ran always the doting but brother knew Rindō still hadn't apologized but could see him working up the confidence for it.

"We'll be alternating whose with you, we worked out a schedule so you're never alone!" Ran said happily and (name) suppressed a sigh at the concept of having to be near his daughters sire for prolonged periods of time and hopefully not kill the Kanto manji member.

(Name) Ate his food quietly, exhausted "drive slower" (name) hissed out and Ran looked back from the rearview mirror "were going at the speed limit (name)"

"Don't care." (Name)s instincts were going haywire "drive. Slower." He hissed out and ran began driving slower at the furious pharamones that made Rindō crack a window "thank you" (name) focused his attention to (daughters name) who was so peaceful before pulling out his phone and placing the screen under her nose to check her breathing and let out a content sigh.

"Rindō is on first watch as I have business to attend to but don't worry I'll bring you two souvenirs!"

(Name) Glared at Rindō and Rindō looked anywhere but him "you know you don't have to, I know you're not thrilled about parenting" (name) didn't even ask for this...

"I want to be there for you two"

"Why...?" (Name) Was suspicious of the alphas words, he didn't trust him as far as he could throw him.

"...let's get (daughters name) in bed then let's talk"

[v3laryons]

Prettiest Thing

- brian quinn (Q) x afab!reader

summary: after a romantic date at your favorite restaurant in nyc, brian wants to show how much he really adores you

warnings: p in v, choking, fingering, dom!brian x sub!reader, age gap, m and f oral, overstimulation, biting, body praise, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol

a/n: guys im LIVINGG for this Q renaissance era.

the heels that you wore all night flew off your feet the second you stepped into your shared apartment. feeling the air conditioning hit your body as the door opened, your muscles immediately started to relax. the couple of drinks you ordered at dinner started to wear off, and your senses were coming back to you. you turned around, instantly clinging onto brian as he locked the door.

“hi sweetheart,” he said as you immediately pushed all your body weight onto him. he clung to you, embracing your scent. you took a step back admiring him. the way his hair fell over his sleepy eyes, and how his shirt revealed his tattoos. a familiar feelings started to flow through you, and an importance to do something about it.

“bedroom..?” you looked up at him with a gleam in your eyes. he chuckled, picking you up with ease and throwing you around his shoulder. you squealed in excitement as he made way to his your bedroom.

he placed you on the bed gently, then picking up one of the cats that was in the bedroom and setting her outside the room. he shut the door and made his way over to you. he stood in-front of you, removing his shirt. you got up on your elbows admiring the view. he moved over and softly laid you flat on the bed while deeply kissing your neck. he smelled of beer and cologne. you inhaled severely, collecting every scent from him.

he felt so wam, equivalent to a giant teddy bear. brian left rough kisses alongside your neck. the skin started turning purple, and soon you were left with many visible love bites. “bri…” you whimpered out. he worked his way from your neck to your lips. he soothingly kissed you as you sat up to remove your slip-on dress. he helped your remove it, pulling it over your head.

as you were still sitting up, he admired your body for a second before crashing his lips back onto yours. before you could lay back down, he shifted his hand to your bra clasp, unbuckling it. your bra slipped off, and brian threw it on the floor next to the bed. you moved yourself back against the headboard. he crawled his way up to you, stopping over your clothed pussy. he positioned his hands on your thighs.

“can i remove this?” he hinted at your black fishnets. you nodded eagerly, needing him to fuck you. he sat up, harshly tugging down your tights. he threw them to corner of the room along with your panties. “so fucking gorgeous” he muttered under his breath as he stroked your hip.

brian lowered his head between your thighs while maintaining eye contact. he began slowly kissing your thighs, making his way towards your heat. you whined, having enough of the teasing.

he was taking his time with you, kissing sweet pecks around your exposed pussy. you begged him, “please bri, i need it.”

he couldn’t hesitate any longer. his mouth found it’s way to your clit, bringing you intense pleasure. you grabbed a fistful of his hair as he ate you out. he softly kissed your pulsating heat before sticking his tongue inside of you. his name was being quietly muttered under your breath as he ate you out like a starving man. “you taste so good peach,” he groaned into your pussy.

suddenly, he started to work his fingers inside of you, stretching you out. he kept his mouth locked on your pussy as he fingered you.

“i’m close bri..” you quietly whined out. the tight feeling below your stomach started to follow, needing a release. “cum for me sweetie,” he said as he continued to suck on your clit. without needing another word, you climaxed onto his face. you gripped the sheets as you rode down from your high.

brian watched in complete awe. your skin glistened as you started to relax again. after he could tell you were alright, he fell back on top of you and started to kiss you once again. you could taste the wetness from your pussy on his lips, turning you on.

you snuck your arms around him and flipped him over. he gasped at your sudden enthusiasm, waiting for your next move.

you lowered yourself to the center of his crotch while maintaining eye contact. you tugged at his belt trying to remove it — brian saw your struggle and removed his belt along with his pants himself.

soon he was only left in his superman boxers, but that wasn’t enough. you eagerly tore off his last remaining piece of clothing until you were both bare.

soon, you were positioned over his lengthy cock. slowly - you inched in. you licked a long strip from the base of his cock to the tip. he watched with his mouth agape, moaning from the simple touch. his hands found their way to your jaw, gently holding it as you sucked his cock.

“you’re so good — so good to me..” he whimpered under his breath. you smiled, with his cock deep in your mouth. over time you slowly lowered yourself more and more taking his entire shaft into your throat. he groaned loudly as he watched his cock sink down your mouth.

salvia started pooling at the bottom of his cock, along with a couple of your tears. the feeling was overbearing, but it felt so good.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum.” he said as he started forcefully pushing your head up and down. you took his cock out of your mouth, and started sucking on his balls.

knowing that he was going to cum, you slid his cock back in your mouth waiting for his release. his breathing became loud as he came in your throat.

you kept eye-contact with him until he was done. removing yourself, you swallowed his cum before going back to kissing him. after regaining stamina, he wanted you on the bottom so he flipped you over, laying you on your back for the second time.

he lined himself up with your core, not breaking the long kiss. then, he slowly slid himself into you. the sudden stretch made you gasp and you tucked your head into his shoulder.

brian groaned at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. when he could tell you were adjusted enough, he slowly slid out and then right back into your core. you gasped in pleasure, feeling overwhelmed by it all.

you moaned as he started to move, picking up the pace over time. he kissed your neck soothingly, bringing more pleasure. as his thrusts began to quicken, he wrapped his hand around your neck. he applied a little bit of pressure, not so much that it would hurt you. to his surprise - you moaned out as he started to slightly choke you.

“feels good?” he groaned in between thrusts. already being lost in the moment, you nodded your head instead of audibly speaking.

tucking your head back into his shoulder, you gently bit on his flesh to contain yourself from screaming out his name. he whimpered for you, not ashamed to show his current emotions.

brian removed his hand from your neck, placing it on your clit. the sudden erotic touch made your stomach clench. he could tell your climax was approaching, and sped up his movements. feeling you clench around him, brian unloaded his seed deep into your cunt. quickly after, you followed him.

he continued to thrust into you as you came. once his stamina ran out, he pulled out and laid next to you. your breathing slowed, and your eyesight became visible again.

he carefully grabbed you, pulling your bodies together. “you okay?” he questioned, checking in on you. “do you need me to do anything - ?”

you smiled, tilting your head to look up at him. “just hold me for a second,” you cuddled into his chest. he grinned, commanding your wish.

the silence was oddly comforting. you felt protected, and he felt loved. brian broke the silence, needing to get something off his chest. he tilted his head down to admire your face.

“you’re the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen.” he grinned, feeling a whirlwind of emotions. suddenly you sat up against the headboard next to him. “you think so?” you smiled, a small giggle exiting your lips.

“yeah, i know so.” he pecked your lips, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you in as close as possible. “goodnight..” you yawned into his chest while your eyes became heavy.

“goodnight my love.”

[doodler16]

“Loser, Baby” should’ve been a heart to heart conversation between Husk and Angel Dust instead of a song. I understand both sides regarding fans and critics. The song is supposed to inspire Angel dust to open up, that he is not alone, and embracing his qualities in a healthy manner. Which is fine, the problem is the execution.

Husk starts off “Loser, Baby” by being honest and stating the obvious: how things are hopeless and how Angel’s life is wrecked, not sugar coating things like Charlie would throughout most of the show. But things take a turn when Husk surprises Angel Dust and getting his attention when Husk is like, “yeah you are correct, not only does your life suck but you are a loser.”

Things go immediately downhill when Husk continues to call him a fucked up little whiny bitch, a loser again, screws loose boozer, an only one star reviews-er (reference to Angel Dust showing his porn film earlier in the same episode that won him a sex award), and power bottom at rock bottom. Near the end of that sequence, Husk mentions to Angel that he has company.

All the things Husk said, that I listed sounds like something Valentino would say to Angel Dust to demean, mock, and emotionally abuse him. Imagine Valentino saying all this exactly how Husk is doing right now. It changes everything. Understandably, Angel Dust is annoyed and even questions how this is supposed to make him feel better.

Husk continues the song and we, the audience see a more vulnerable side of him. Husk mentions how he thought no one could relate and how damaged he is. Husk says that you should let walls down and how Angel Dust is not the only one who is suffering.

There are other positive messages in the song like: “it time to lose your self-loathing excuse yourself, let hope in.” “Play your card, be who you are.” Which is great! The problem is the positive words featured aren’t the complete main focus and felt they added near the end, it’s mainly negative words like how Husk and Angel are both losers, Angel calling himself a coked up dick sucking’ ho, a schmoozer, and a dummy. Both demeaning themselves in the process.

If all those small positive words sprinkled in the song got completely removed, would anyone still think it’s empowering? So, I don’t blame anyone for thinking Husk was/is victim-blaming Angel Dust when most of the song featured negative words. And, I’m not surprised that it got lost in translation and many are still fighting about this song till this day.

Also Husk’s wording in specific parts of the song makes him sound dismissive. For example: when Angel says how sold his soul to Val’s weirdo ass. Husk says, “Haha, and you think that makes you unique?” I get what Vivziepop and the writers were going for but his wording was so awful.

[hardly-an-escape]

hello. in honor of Armistice Day, have a snippet of The Trenches Have Vanished Under the Plough, which I swear I am still plugging away at. in this human AU, Hob and Dream are both British soldiers serving in France during the Great War. Hob is a corporal (the lowest-ranked non-commissioned officer) and Morpheus is his captain and commanding officer.

September, 1918. Second Battle of the Somme.

Hob’s recollection of the bomb was blessedly fractured.

He remembered crouching next to Morpheus against the dirt wall of a trench. He remembered rocks and clumps of sod raining down around them like a storm. He remembered a whistling sound, almost gentle, approaching from the sky like some strange bird. And then there was a silent flash, and he remembered nothing at all.

He awoke, some time later, in a white place that first appeared to be a cloud and then resolved into the relatively clean canvas walls and sheets of a field hospital. Hob was still for some moments, slowly coming to the realization that every inch of his body was in pain, except where he could not feel it at all.

“Fuck,” he said quietly. And then, desperately, “Morpheus.”

He tried to sit up. Struggled mightily with the bedclothes and his own limbs and then with the sturdy nurse who came hurrying over to push him back down to the cot.

“My friend,” he gasped, subsiding. “I mean. The captain. In the trench with me. Did he – is he –”

“He’s here,” the nurse said soothingly. “Both of you were brought in by the same ambulance.”

“How is he? Is he alright?”

“Such devotion!” she clucked. “He’s alive, if that’s what you mean, which is about all that can be said for either of you. Doctor says you’re both to be moved to an evacuation hospital this afternoon for surgery. And after that – you’re most likely for home, Corporal.”

Home, Hob thought as the nurse bustled away. Whatever that means.

The horse-drawn ambulance ride to the evacuation hospital was a haze of morphine and pain. Morpheus was on the stretcher next to him, at least; but he was pale, paler than Hob had ever seen him, and he neither opened his eyes nor responded to Hob’s voice.

Hob didn’t see him again for three days.

The evacuation hospital was on the grounds of a mostly-destroyed manor house, and some of the recovery tents opened out onto the ruined remains of the formal gardens. They must have been a thing of beauty before the war, but now were nearly as ravaged as the Front itself; the lawns and flower beds were dry and hard, and the formerly ornamental hedges looked scorched and stunted. There was an autumnal chill in the air, though the afternoon sunshine was warm. An orderly wheeled Hob out to take some air, and there was Morpheus: lined up with the other wheelchairs, one heavily bandaged leg stuck straight out in front of him at an awkward angle.

The orderly parked Hob at the end of the line of invalids, next to Morpheus, and wandered away.

“Captain,” Hob said softly.

“Corporal,” Morpheus responded.

He looked awful; pallid and horridly thin. There were dark marks under his eyes and in the hollows of his cheeks, such that Hob couldn’t tell what was bruising and what was the tightly-drawn result of pain and lack of sleep. The bones in his hands stood out starkly where they laid on the arms of his wheelchair. Even the timbre of his voice sounded somehow tighter, thinner.

Nobody was looking at them. Hob reached across the gap between them and ran one finger along the back of Morpheus’s hand. Morpheus flicked his eyes over to meet Hob’s. One corner of his mouth lifted slightly and Hob felt something tense inside him relax suddenly. Maybe it would be alright. Maybe they could come through this, as they’d come through everything else in the past year: together.

[yamsgarden]

Damn... Learning about my past through a crazy ex childhood friend's ex was not on my 2024 bingo card...

nw they don't use tumblr, they don't even know what tumblr is so, i'm just gonna vent here for 2 secs because holy shit...

It's just so weird to have to continue life as if everything's normal OTL

I swear to god my life feels like a movie sometimes-- does that happen to everyone?!

Gonna spare the really fucked up details, but basically, an old gang of 6 friends and I (minus the crazy one), have finally reunited yesterday. It had been a year since we didn't see each other, but yesterday, ouhhh so many dark confessions happened OTL

There's a lot to unpack here, but for short, that crazy ex childhood friend had insanely awful jealousy problems and it consumed her. At first she looked fine, but with time it was clear that she was also obsess with men's attention and unfaithful and flirted with her ex's best friend or any guys...

She wanted us to guess how she felt and what she wanted us to do for her, without telling us. She was the one causing huge drama all the time, but she was still somehow the victim...

Basically, that person who once brought all of us together, managed to ruin all of her relationship with all 6 of us. Now we all came back together and our disdain for her, has only brought us closer...

All this situation shocks me, because that ex friend used to tell me how much she was so scared to end up alone... Then she spent months and months making me feel horrible and rejected and hated. She also told me many times how ''her traumas and problems were worst than mine''...

At some point, I finally cut ties with her for good, but I was worry she put up everyone else against me, so I left and didn't want to cause trouble for the rest of the gang.

She was really keeping us altogether out of fear of ending up alone, rather than keeping us altogether out of love...

But now, I guess... Look at who's ended up all alone afterall.

I'm so happy we finally told each other and now, we can all start healing together... It means so much to realized that all this time, they actually never wanted me to leave because of the other crazy fucked up one, but they were too scared of her reaction... They even told me yesterday how they want me back and they want me to stay... Ugh, my heart OTL

We were all too nice to say anything, and in the process we let her hurt us.

But yeah, I guess... Really do be careful who you let in your life OTL Some ppl really do are fake friends and they hate you with a passion but they will still keep you around because they got nobody else.

[forge7menot]

In The Air (Tonight)

Pairings: Patrick x Reader, Tashi x Reader, Tashi x Art

Word count: 2.7k

Content warnings: alcohol use, suggestive content

Notes: Hi everyone! This is my first time writing a ff but I love Challengers with all my heart so I thought I'd give it a try. English is not my first language so if there are any mistakes don't pay too much attention to them!! Also, I despise the use of “Y/N”, that's why I tried to make it as neutral as I could.

Summer 2006, New York: 10:45 PM

Your room was a mess. Not only were there piles of dresses, colorful crop tops and jeans scattered across the floor like confetti, but you still couldn’t decide what to wear. And it was getting pretty late —at least, too late for your liking一 as the faint sound of “SOS” by Rihanna drifting from nearby bars hinted at the start of another sleepless Saturday night.

“Where’s the mascara?”

“Right in there,” you said, pointing at your makeup bag while your head was still buried deep in your closet. This bra isn't even mine, you thought, picking it up before tossing it on the ground. Tashi was too busy curling her eyelashes to hear the cellphone that had been buzzing for the past five minutes.

"Tash, could you please get it?" you grabbed a pair of low-rise, medium-wash bootcut jeans and looked at them with a satisfied grin before sneaking your legs in them as Tashi’s manicured nail pressed the green button to accept the call.

"We're still not ready," you heard her say and Art groaned on the other end.

"Are you serious? You said that an hour ago!"

"I am, unfortunately. I'll text you when we're finished.” Tashi ended the call before he could say a word.

She's been your closest friend since middle school. It was around that time that she started to invite you to watch her tennis matches on Sunday afternoons, just to hang out later. You've been incredibly supportive of her love for tennis ever since.

She even tried to teach you how to play, which led to you spraining your ankle once—after that, she didn't push you to try again.

However, you were always there at her matches: front rows, holding a big sign with her name on it, rooting for her.

That's also how you met Patrick and Art, Fire and Ice: the two of them were also tennis players, which is why they already knew Tashi very well. The four of you quickly became close after your first encounter at a party, which ended with smoking cigarettes by the beach and engaging in random conversations.

It was quite obvious that Art, the blond one, had a thing for her from the first night you all spent together. You still remember how he was staring at her in awe as she explained to Patrick, the brunet one, how “you can actually build something out of ice while fire just tends to burn shit down”—it was obviously an innuendo to his technique. Art could hardly hide his grin as she tore into it, watching her like he’d just discovered something rare. You wondered if she noticed—or if she was just used to his attention by now.

As for you, you weren’t really looking for a relationship and you’d come to peace with the fact that being single was probably the chillest you’d ever been. At the same time, you couldn’t deny that Patrick was a really cool guy—not just for his confidence and personality, but because he was fucking hot. Sure, he was flirtier with you than with most people and maybe that got under your skin a little. But you often asked yourself if it was real interest or just his way of being; you hadn’t quite decided yet.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

The clock on the dresser blinked 11:10 PM, the glowing digits reminding you both that Art and Patrick were probably rolling their eyes somewhere across town. They’d waited this long, but you knew they’d wait a little longer.

Tashi was finally dressed, wearing a dark blue one-shoulder mini dress and a wide black belt with a large buckle that you’d gladly lent her. She was already pretty tall, but that didn’t stop her from slipping on the black peep-toe heels you two had bought together just a few hours ago. “One thing I like about my height is that ugly short boys can’t even try with me. I can’t hear them at all!” she’d joked in the shoe aisle.

As she carefully helped you curl your hair, you slipped on a white vest-style top with a V-neck. “Do you think I should add a necklace or something?” you asked, gesturing to the empty space just above your collarbones.

“How about that black beaded necklace with the heart pendant your grandma got you for your birthday?” she suggested, turning off the curling iron. “It contrasts perfectly with white.”

“You’re a genius!”

You fastened the necklace, running a finger over the heart pendant, feeling a hint of comfort.

There was just one last thing left to do before leaving the house: post a photo of Tashi and you on MySpace - where, of course, she was placed first in your TOP 8 and you were placed first in hers.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

The two boys had been leaning against the stone ledge outside the club for a solid twenty minutes, watching people trickle in. Art had insisted on getting there early—“in case there’s a line.”

Patrick had rolled his eyes at the time, knowing you and Tashi weren’t even close to ready yet. They’d both checked their phones multiple times, refreshing messages and waiting for a sign. Then, Patrick’s phone buzzed.

He glanced down and let out a low laugh, nudging Art with his elbow. “Look at this,” he said, tilting the screen toward him: a freshly uploaded photo on Tashi’s MySpace page, clearly taken in your room. The two of you were posing in front of a mirror flashing playful peace signs with the caption “NYC nightlife, here we come!”

Art squinted at the screen, his smile widening. “Well, at least we know they’re coming,” he said with a chuckle. “Though judging by that post, they’re not exactly in a rush.”

Patrick shook his head, amused. He put his phone back in his pocket, feigning indifference but sneaking glances at the entrance.

Another ten minutes passed, during which Art fiddled with his phone, checking Tashi’s page and refreshing it as if a new post might appear any second.

Patrick caught him doing it and snickered. “Dude, you’re practically stalking her page. Can you look any more desperate?”

Art shrugged, unfazed. “It’s called keeping informed, man.”

Just then, his phone buzzed again—a new notification. But this time, it was a message from Tashi: “Almost there. Keep your shirts on, boys. ;-)”

Finally, Art spotted you and Tashi across the street, walking toward the club entrance, laughing and leaning on each other as you navigated the crowded sidewalk.

He elbowed Patrick, who looked up just in time to see you both smiling, looking effortlessly glamorous under the city lights.

“There they are,” Art said, relief mixed with excitement in his voice.

Patrick’s exasperation faded, replaced by a grin. “About time,” he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his tone.

As the both of you got closer to them Tashi smirked, flipping her long brown hair over one shoulder with a dramatic flair.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, boys,” she said with mock sincerity. “Had to make sure the MySpace crowd knew we were out tonight.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Oh, trust me, we saw. Next time, maybe just send us a smoke signal instead.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you shot back with a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying the whole situation.

Tashi turned to Art, who was still smiling as he took her in. “You think we look worth the wait?”

Art nodded, a bit too enthusiastically. “Absolutely. I mean, you posted a teaser and everything—how could we not stick around?”

As the two of them were already flirting, you turned your face towards Patrick.

“Hello, sweetness,” he greeted, slipping an arm around your shoulders with a familiarity that felt both bold and strangely comforting. He always called you that—sweetness—ever since you’d mentioned your obsession with the song “Bigmouth Strikes Again” by The Smiths. You weren’t sure if he was teasing you or if he actually liked the nickname, but you didn’t mind it, even if you’d never admit that out loud.

“I hope you still would not like to smash every tooth in my head,” he continued, his grin widening as he quoted the song. His gaze lingered on you, mischievous and a little too pleased with himself.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “I’m not that violent, you know. I’m more of a pacifist.”

Patrick chuckled, giving your shoulder a little squeeze as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “Oh yeah? I don’t know. I think you’ve got a bit of a fire in you. A little spark.”

You raised an eyebrow, playing along. “A spark, huh? Guess I’m playing for your team then,” you hinted at the nickname people would always give to him on the tennis court.

“That’s the best decision you could ever make,” he shot back, flashing you a grin that was just this side of cocky. His hand lingered on your shoulder for a moment longer before he finally let it drop, but not before brushing his fingers lightly down your arm. It was a subtle touch, but enough to send a small, pleasant shiver down your spine.

As the four of you finally stepped into the club, you were hit by a wall of sound, the bass vibrating through the floor and up into your bones. The music was loud—really loud—the kind of beat that left no room for conversation, only dancing and shouted exchanges.

Strobe lights and neon beams cut through the darkness, casting fleeting shades of blue, purple and red across the crowd, turning everyone into silhouettes and glimmers. The air was thick with the scent of spilled cocktails (that’s what almost made you gag), mingling with a faint haze of cigarette smoke and the sharp tang of cologne and perfume. People were laughing, shouting, swaying in sync, some raising their arms in time with the music.

On one side there was a raised platform where a few braver dancers were showing off their moves, illuminated by a set of blinding white lights that flickered on and off. On the opposite end, a long bar stretched out under soft, glowing light, bartenders moving swiftly as they mixed colorful cocktails, sliding them to customers.

You felt Patrick’s hand on your back, guiding you gently through the crowd as Tashi and Art led the way, squeezing past groups of people until you found a good spot by the bar.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

You didn’t even know what time it was as you sipped on your Cosmopolitan, comfortably nestled into the soft cushions of the booth, when suddenly you felt Tashi’s hand on your shoulder.

“Everything alright?” she asked, sliding in next to you, nearly out of breath as she tried to recover from the last half hour of nonstop dancing: her cheeks were flushed and you could tell she was enjoying the break just as much as you were.

“Yeah, absolutely. This drink is bomb,” you said, pointing at your glass before downing the last sip. “So, what did I miss while I was out here living my best life?” you asked, giving her a playful look.

“Patrick and Art are still out there trying to one-up each other’s dance moves. It’s… something else. You’re missing quite the show.”

As the two of you were talking, a girl dressed in a bold, sparkly top and a low ponytail approached your booth, her arms loaded with a tangle of neon bracelets. She flashed a wide grin as she held them out.

"Hey, ladies! Care for a little light?" she offered, her voice barely cutting through the music.

Tashi’s face lit up as she leaned forward, picking out a few.

“Oh, these are perfect! Thank you!” She slipped a neon pink one onto her wrist, watching it glow under the lights. You took a couple yourself—a bright blue and green.

“Y’all look amazing, by the way!” the girl shouted with a wink before slipping back into the crowd, leaving you both with your new accessories.

Tashi tilted her wrist, admiring the soft glow. “Okay, this is exactly what I needed to get back out there.” She shot you a playful look, her neon-pink bracelet gleaming as she offered you a hand. “Coming with me?”

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

The thump of the bass vibrated through the soles of your heels as you and Tashi weaved your way through the crowd.

You found the two boys near the center of the floor, bouncing with the beat of the music.

The brunet spotted you and Tashi first, his eyes lighting up when he saw the bracelets glowing on your wrists. He flashed you a knowing grin and moved fluidly through the crowd towards you. Art followed his lead and came over too.

“Didn’t think you’d make it out here,” Patrick said with a sly grin, his voice cutting through the bass of the song.

Tashi turned to Art and gave him a wink.

“We couldn’t resist, could we?” she laughed as Art pulled her into the rhythm of the music, his hands gently guiding her into the groove.

You stood next to Patrick, feeling his energy just as strongly as he could feel yours and for a moment the connection was undeniable. The way his body moved with the music was drawing you in: he extended a hand towards you, his fingers brushing against your wrist as he gestured for you to join him.

“Don’t be shy,” he said, a teasing smile curling at the corners of his mouth. Without hesitation you placed your hand in his, allowing him to pull you deeper into the rhythm of the dance.

Patrick was a master of subtlety—his touch, his movements, everything about him felt so deliberate. The music wrapped around you and, for a moment, there was no one else in the room but the two of you.

As you spun into the next move, Patrick’s hand landed on your lower back, the contact warm and possessive as he gently guided you.

In response, you placed your palms on his clothed shoulders. The alcohol in your system gradually made you bolder than usual.

The proximity was intoxicating.

His gaze never wavered from you, his lips curving into that playful, knowing smile. When he leaned in closer the tension was thick and almost overwhelming.

“You’re a natural,” he whispered, his hand now resting at your side, fingertips grazing the skin of your hip. You couldn’t help but shiver at the contact.

“Probably because I’ve got such a good teacher,” you teased him.

Whatever was happening felt more than just a casual connection: the closeness, the unspoken tension, the way you moved together—it all felt too real to ignore.

The air between you felt charged, each beat of the music syncing your heartbeats closer together.

As the song transitioned into something slower, the change in tempo didn’t break the tension—it only amplified it. His breath was warm against your cheek and his lips hovered just near your ear. Your heartbeat was so loud, you thought it might drown out his voice.

“You feel that?” Patrick’s breath was warm against your ear, the words almost like a challenge. You swallowed hard. The music still pounded, but it felt like it was coming from miles away.

“Feel what?” you asked, trying to hold onto control but knowing you were losing it.

For a moment, neither of you moved, your gazes locked. You wanted to say something, anything to break the tension, but the words caught in your throat.

Patrick’s lips were so close to yours at that moment.

Your breath hitched as both his hands found the softness and warmth of your cheeks, holding the flesh.

You tilted your head, just enough to close the gap and in a move that felt almost inevitable. His lips brushed yours—soft at first, like a question. You feel that?

When you didn’t pull away, he deepened the kiss, one of his hands moving to your neck.

In that moment, everything else ceased to exist: the world outside of the dancefloor—the crowd, the flashing lights, the music—faded away.

The kiss was heady, slow, a direct answer to the question that had been hanging in the air between you two.

When you finally broke away, breathless, your forehead rested against his, both of you struggling to regain some semblance of control.

Needless to say, that night you didn’t fall asleep alone. And you certainly didn’t fall asleep in your bed.

[alexfierrotransgenderedme]

hey!

first and foremost i am really sorry that this happened and that it impacts how unsafe jewish people and muslim people feel in this city now

i also really appreciate your perspective and the information you shared

(background info: i live in amsterdam)

however, i would like to add some things because i am not sure it's entirely correct that it was as pre-planned as u say it is

i think there was some clear and really extreme provokation

the zionists beat up a taxi driver who then started to organise people -> this was the day before when they got chased into their hotel

the mobilisation happened once the zionists started to tear down and burn flags the day before the match, people responded to that and then the taxi driver activated his network

once this happened the day before, the day of the match they were protected by the police but of course some violence still happened

i am not saying that anti-semitism did not play a role at all! -> it definitely did

there is some information that people started planning after the first night (namely a text in a group saying "there will be a jew hunt", https://www.nytimes.com/2024/11/10/world/europe/israeli-soccer-fans-amsterdam-attack.html

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/11/10/world/europe/israeli-soccer-fans-amsterdam-attack.html)

which is really really awful!!

but i know that a lot people (specifically leftists which is the circle i am familiar with) went to the counterprotest out of solidarity against racism

-there was also a planned protest that was banned at the origninal spot in front of the arena and then was relocated to the anton de komplein which is a bit further away

regarding proportionality: i find it hard to talk about proportionality and also kind of useless often; i don't condone violence in general and i think the anti-semitic character this had is awful

but the zionists came into amsterdam, burned flags, and sung things like "gaza, gaza, gaza is a cemetery" or "there are no schools left in gaza because there are no children left"

i really don't know what they expected to happen? for people to just calmly take it in?

it is of course still really horrible that some people did have anti-semitic intentions and that part cannot be excused but a lot of people had a genuine grievance here

another thing regarding racism being normal by football fans

sure when hooligans come there is always some racist paroles, but what makes this entirely different is:

- there are not hundreds in the city center (maybe a handful) to the point where u cannot go there anymore because it is genuinely so unsafe

-they are not burning flags that are not of the country they play against

in my 3 years of living here i never experienced hooligans to be so many and so boldly fucking shit up in the city center

so i would say it was definitely out of the ordinary and way way more extreme and racist than usual

some information i am unsure about

-did not hear anywhere that jewish businesses were attacked, please let me know if there is a source i would like to know this information

-in general some sources would be nice i always like to read the original information myself too:)

there's a really detailed report by the police here:

I have seen multiple posts going around making fun of, or minimizing, what happened in Amsterdam from antizionists. So I want to give a timeline of what happened.

Pre the attack:

Before people arrived in Amsterdam for the football match, there were people organizing the pogrom. Stuff like wanting to steal jews passports, were shared on social media. Yes, the word used on social media was jews not Israelis. The main people organizing the attack were arab and muslim. We do not know at this point if all the attackers were arab and muslim, but we do know that at least a majority were. This fact does not mean that all Muslims and arabs want to harm all jews, however the extremism which lead to the attack and antisemitisms place in it can and should be talked about.

The Israeli government got wind of this attack and warned the Netherlands Police, who decided to not do anything to protect jews.

This did not happen because the Israeli team lost, despite what certain people are saying.

Day before or of the attack (unconfirmed which day it was):

Once in Amsterdam, there were some fans who did tear down Palestinian flags and chant a racist anti arab chant. Whilst this is still very much racist and should be labeled as such as viewed as bad, it's not out of character for for European football culture, and has happened before with other fans which have not lead to them being hunted down. The pogrom was pre planned and still not a proportional response.

The attack:

Jews were hunted down, beaten, run over, and many more things. They were also forced to say "free gaza" and "free Palestine"

The attack harmed far more than just those who were racist. They attacked jews and anyone they perceived as Jewish indiscriminately.

Jews were saved by an Arab Israeli football player speaking to them loudly in Arabic so people assumed they were arab Israeli or just Arab.

A Greek man was attacked because he could not prove to the attackers that he wasn't jewish and was in fact Greek.

A brittish man was punched because he helped save jews. And when he told his attackers that he was brittish and not israeli or jewish (not sure if he wasn't, but he told his attackers he wasn't), he was told "but you helped a jew"

Jewish businesses were also broken into.

How and why it is antisemitic:

If at this point, you still cannot see why it was an antisemitic attack, let's recap.

• It was a planned attack on jews, not Israelis, jews. And it was planned before any racist things happened.

● jews were spared if they were perceived to be non jews, including being perceived as arab Israeli and non jews were attacked for being perceived as jews and for helping jews

• Jewish businesses were broken into. If it was about breaking into zionist businesses, ones own by non Jewish zionists also would've been broken into, but they were not.

• Non Israeli jews were attacked

It is antisemitic, as the targets of the attack were specifically jews. It was not revenge for palestine or for racist comments.

Israel intervened and flew people out of Amsterdam as it was no longer safe for jews in the city. Not because they lost the match.

[themadauthorshatter]

Lucky through out Finding Frankie:

"Yeah, I'll play this game, I earned it."

"HOLY SHIT! ... Okay, BYE, BITCHES, I'M OUT!"

"The other contestants mysteriously died! Not sure how that happened! Oh well, at least you're still here!"

"Yaaaay, I love being surrounded by CORPSES."

"How many circuit breakers does one trampoline and water park NEED? If it's this many, can't I just WORK HERE? You guys get any new employees or are they also rabbit food?"

"(Hiding) please don't see through mesh. Please don't see through mesh. (Frankie leaves) Okay, so the floor is lava. Or just a no-go unless I want to die slowly and painfully."

"Made it! And no- WHAT THE SHIT!?(As Frankie crawls by) ... I'm getting that 5 mil. I'm buying this place, and setting it on fire with that abracadabra looking asshole inside."

"GET AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY FROM ME! WHO PUTS LOGS ON THIS STEEP OF A SLOPE AND HAS A MAN EATING RABBIT CHASE YOU!? I THOUGHT THIS PLACE WAS ALSO DESIGNED FOR KIDS!?"

"Aw, ducky. (Gets pecked) FUCK YOU TOO. Gonna play nice or do I need to throw you again?"

(Encounters Henry)

"... Do I still want that 5 million? We'll, I can't have if I'm dead. ... Alright, away we go."

"WHY IS THERE NO LIGHT IN YOUR AREA!? WHY ARE YOU FRIENDS WITH A CARNIVOROUS RABBIT!? ... (Inhale) Okay. I can handle the giant man eating rabbit. I can handle Talking Telephone man that keeps trying to strangle me. I can handle the fucking duck. I can handle this stupid costume and the fact that I'm surrounding by decaying bodies in this hellhole. But I DRAW THE LINE AT FUCKING BUZZSAWS! WHO'S IDEA WAS THIS!?"

"... Really? You guys have an incinerator? So what's paying this place? All the circuit breakers or this incinerator?"

(Encounters Real Frankie)

"... what... What the fuck?"

(Sees Henry die)

"WHAT THE FUCK!?"

(Gets help from Real Frankie)

"Thanks. Please don't tell me this will come back to bite me later."

"Again with the buzzsaws! In a WATER PARK! ... At least the circuit breaker won't get wet."

"Aw, noob noobs. (Explosions) Sorry, got a game to win and money to collect."

"Oh, hey, a chat board. ...'Boring?' I resent that. Raise the 10k to 30. I'm living and I'm going to buy this place and turn it into a hotel. Frankie's broke ass won't be able to stop me. ... Wait, did someone bring up lava?"

"Frankie's Frosted peak. Just get to the top. Easy. (Slime gets released). SCRATCH THAT! CHANGED MY MIND! I'M BURNING THIS PLACE!"

"I'm never using a buzzsaw again in my life."

"Hey, uh, Frankie, can you help me out? I'm... I'm stuck. (Gets shut it) ... Thanks a lot. Dick."

"STOP MESSING UP MY F*CKING GAME SHOW!"

"SO TRYING TO KILL ME WHEN I'VE ALREADY WON, BITCH!"

"NOOB NOOBS! Wait. OH, SHIT! NO!"

"Surprise, mother fucker. Give me my five million in cash."

"... (Sigh) Fine. *One more season.* But no buzzsaws, no slime, and no fucking corpses scattered all over the place like the Black Plague hit this place. We have an incinerator to play with."

[wylanlupin]

wolfstar micro fic - 655 words

genderfluid sirius black, jealous remus lupin, sirius black uses she/her and they/them pronouns, famous au, marauders are actors

The camera zooms into the scene, everyone is quiet, while they’re filming. Only Sirius and her scene partner Barty, are allowed to talk.

Remus is sitting on his chair, watching his girlfriend work. He loves watching Sirius act, they’re so talented and always put their everything in each scene. And he is truly in awe of her.

Lily is the holder of their camera today. Being in a film set so long, with all your friends, just screams to be filmed from their perspective. Everyday someone else is the “camera-holder” as James calls it.

Maybe the fans someday will get to see a little footage of it, but it’s more only for them. Their management team and filming team, are responsible for the footage the fans will have for behind the scenes and bloopers.

Remus is sipping on his ice matcha, with his whole focus on his girlfriend, that he doesn’t even realise that Lily is filming his face up close.

For the twelfth time in the last half hour, does Barty lean down and capture Sirius’ lips in his. He’s holding her face with both of his hands and pressing them against the wall.

It’s a very intense kissing scene and is taking way too long and too many takes, if you ask Remus.

“Cut!” Barty immediately takes a step back and Sirius drives her delicate fingers through her hair. A bright smile takes over her face, which releases a warm feeling in Remus’ chest. “Ok, we have it.” Their director says and the staff starts cleaning the scene.

Sirius is still talking to Barty, so Lily focus the video back on Remus. “How do you feel?”

“Much better now, knowing that this terrible scene is over. And I don’t have to watch Barty kissing my girl.” He grins at the camera and Lily can’t suspend her giggles. “And why is that?”

“Because this mother-“ he just mouths ”f_cker”before he speaks loudly again, “has a crush on Sirius and isn’t even a little subtle about it.”

It bothers Remus a lot, how open and vocal this idiot is about, being in love with Remus’ girlfriend. Lily just chuckles again and zooms into the conversation Sirius is having with Barty.

They’re shouting a series and at the moment, Barty is playing the boyfriend of Sirius’ character, but not for long. They already filmed the break up scene between the characters.

Right now though, has Sirius dressed in the short pink pyjama pants and a white crop shirt. In short, she looks absolutely stunning and Remus would love to ruin her hair, but it were Barty’s hands, that made them this dishevelled.

And the worst part is, that Remus can’t even be mad at Barty, because of course everyone has a crush on Sirius. Everyone here knows how attractive and pretty she is, everyone on set sees what a talented and stunning actress she is and everyone observe, how kind and selfless she is.

Remus can live with that, the whole fucking world loves her, but Barty? He could at least have the respect and not officially tell people how in love he is with them. It wouldn’t bother Remus so much, if he wouldn’t post and talk about her so often.

Finally, Sirius is coming over to Remus and sitting down on his lap. “Hey, my love.” She greets him and gives him a long kiss.

Remus is a simple man, of course he relaxes into her and wraps his arms around hers waist to keep her close. He forgets Barty, the second her tongue meets his.

A cough gets Sirius’ attention and she looks over at Lily, who holds the rolling camera in their faces. “Hi, Lils.” And Remus is not only a simple man, but also pathetic. He forgot about Lily, the camera and his matcha and only remembers those things, when Sirius leaves his lap.