#ellie writes spice

[thru-the-grapevine]

Deep End

Pairing: Choi Soobin x fem!reader

Summary: Soobin thinks you could be the most dangerous thing to ever happen to him, if he let you (or: not even the ambience of a city rooftop can distract Soobin from you).

Word Count: 5.7k

Tags/Warnings: mature content (minors dni), pwfwp (porn with feelings without plot), public sex, established relationship, man is a simp

Author’s Note: the lovely @chanis-banani has allowed me to post the birthday gift I made for her 🥰 I played myself by writing it for her because now I’m kinda nuts about him too. Whoops.

Soobin has never been a particularly possessive or territorial person before, so he’s unprepared for how it feels to see you in his shirt.

He watches you in the reflection of the hotel elevator, mesmerized. The shirt is a button-down, oversized even on Soobin. He’d helped you roll up each sleeve four times just to give your wrists some breathing room, and from how it fits on you, it gives the appearance that it’s the only thing you’re wearing at all. He’s trying very hard not to stare at your bare legs, focusing in on your little painted toenails to try and stay respectful. He’s not sure if it’s working. Nothing feels respectful about the way he looks at you these days.

The two of you are on a weekend trip to the city together, seizing the opportunity for quality time alone during a rare time when neither of you have anything in your schedules. You’d suggested pretending it was a fancy weekend, and Soobin had taken you at your word and sprung for a nicer hotel than usual, particularly because of how your face had lit up at the idea of a rooftop pool.

The two of you are on the way to this pool now, and instead of wearing normal clothes over your swimsuit, you’d insisted on borrowing one of his shirts. He’d agreed without really thinking about it, and once the sleeves were rolled up you’d declared it was perfect.

Soobin can’t disagree, either, because he can’t stop looking at you in it. Something about it being your idea makes it even better. He likes the way you look in it, but in a way he didn’t expect. Some sort of base instinct in his gut is glowing, seeing you in something of his.

Then again, you’ve always fascinated him, even before the two of you began seeing each other. You’ve always lit up every room he sees you in, something about how you carry yourself drawing the klutzy moth of him to you like flame. He’s never wanted to know so much about another person before. He loves learning every little thing that makes you laugh, that makes you chatty, that incites reactions in you.

He can’t believe he convinced you to say yes when he asked you out, amazed you allowed him to keep coming back for more. He feels like a naturalist who got outrageously lucky enough to get close to their favorite beloved wildlife, like he has to drink in and take note of everything he can get of you in case you spook and flee. Like he can puzzle out the mystery of you if he studies you closely enough.

You catch him staring in the reflection and make a silly face. He grins and makes one back, shifting closer to you and watching his reflection drape an arm over your shoulders. He’s realizing recently how often you draw him in, how he’s always looking for reasons to be as close to you as he can. If he really was a moth, he’d be scorched to a crisp by now.

He can feel you practically vibrating with excitement as the two of you step out onto the roof. There’s a huge grin on your face as you gaze around with eyes so big that Soobin knows you wish you had more of them to take it all in.

“Not too shabby, then?” He asks, charmed at the way you flit from place to place, exploring.

“What do you mean, not too shabby? It’s perfect,” you gush, gesturing from thing to thing and bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Look at the view, ugh, it’s so—and the pool? It’s perfect, the water is so pretty, it’s all so pretty here at night, look at all the other buildings lit up, I’m just—!”

You take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, face still aglow. “Okay. Calming down.”

He grins, making his way to a chaise lounge near the pool and sitting. “That’s the spirit.”

“Why is it so empty up here on a night like this?” You wonder, staring up and around at the nearby buildings and night sky.

A private smile twitches at the corner of Soobin’s mouth. “Yeah, seems way too nice out not to be up here.”

“Definitely nice enough to swim,” you muse, turning to him and batting your eyes once. “You’ll swim with me, right?”

It was never a question that he would, but Soobin feigns uncertainty. “Hmm...”

“Just for a little bit,” you insist, shoulders slumping, and he can’t help laughing.

“’Course, that’s why we came up here.”

You pout at him, making your way over to his chair. “Rude.”

He watches you approach, endeared at the little frown line between your brows when you pout, how it makes your lips even more distracting. “You’re just easy to bother.”

You make a face at him. “Just for that, you can have your shirt back.”

His mouth goes a little dry when your hands go to the top button, fiddling.

“Oh no, please, anything but that,” he tries to deadpan, but his voice rasps.

You roll your eyes, amused, as you pop the first button. “Perv.”

He can’t even refute you. It’s like erotic torture, watching you unbutton the shirt—his shirt; god, that really is doing things to him. The buttons are on the opposite placket than you’re used to, which means you move slower, and Soobin watches in an agony of lust as inch after inch of your skin is revealed.

You shrug the shirt off when it’s finally unbuttoned, tossing it into his lap and wandering to the edge of the pool. He tries to get himself back under control, but your swimsuit leaves so much less to the imagination than anything else he usually sees you wear that it’s impossible.

You look back over your shoulder at him, pausing on the steps descending into the water. “You coming?”

He nods, dazed.

You raise an eyebrow, smirk teasing the corners of your mouth. “You good?”

That depends heavily on what “good” means. He considers saying this, knows you’ll enjoy the philosophical banter, but when he opens his mouth his throat is too dry to speak. He shuts his mouth and clears his throat, giving up. “I...yeah. Great.”

His face feels hot when you wink at him, tip of your tongue between your teeth. Jesus.

He watches you wade down into the pool and tries to think of boring things, like taxes and bylaws and coding instructions, anything but how breathtaking every inch of you is. It doesn’t work, especially when you dip beneath the surface briefly, then come back up, swiping your hair back from your face more flawlessly than any model.

“Water’s fine,” you murmur, and something in your expression makes him think you’re fully aware that he’s wrapped around your little finger.

Maybe the water will clear his head. He grabs the scruff of his shirt and yanks it over his head. “Coming.”

He doesn’t bother with the steps, heads straight for the deep end and hops in. The cool water is a welcome shock to his system, as well as the muted quiet of underwater. He lingers near the bottom, waiting until his lungs ache for air to push back towards the shallow end.

When he resurfaces, you’re floating on your back, gazing up at the night sky. He swipes his hair out of his face and rises to his full height, angling to see you better. You have your mouth pursed in a specific way to keep from inhaling water, and your hair splays out around your head in the water in gentle, undulating waves, Medusa-style. There are little twinkling reflections in your eyes of the world you’re drinking in above you. Bliss in your face.

Oh no, a voice in the back of Soobin’s mind says, and looking at you feels like he’s made of glass and is being shoved off a high ledge. But Soobin can’t bring himself to be frightened, can only concentrate on the pleasant swoop in his stomach as he plummets. He thinks he might enjoy being shattered by you.

You jerk in surprise when you catch him watching you, a thrash of water. “Jesus.”

He feels a grin tugging at his lips. “Sorry,” he says, not sorry at all.

“Why are you just standing there staring, you weirdo?” You move upright again, and your mad scientist hair flattens into a streaming curtain down your back. Pale blue pool light reflects in little waves over your skin, and Soobin would believe someone in this moment if they told him you were a water goddess.

He can’t tear his gaze away from you, still grinning like a fool. “You’re interesting.”

You raise an eyebrow, teasing smile back on your face.

“Interesting, huh.”

“Mhm.” He starts wading your way at that dreamlike pace water always demands. Moth, meet flame.

“Me, or my tits?”

“I—that wasn’t what—” Soobin stammers. “What—I hadn’t even looked at—”

And he hadn’t, truly. Except of course they’re now at the forefront of his mind, now that you’ve mentioned them, and invisible magnetism keeps tempting his gaze down, a losing fight with the thought of them right at the top of his brain, and now he’s noticing your chest, half-submerged, the gleam of soaked skin and droplets in tantalizing places, noticing the wet cling of swimsuit fabric to curving soft skin. He wonders how it might feel to glide his hands over and under and around, whether you would feel cool or warm under his mouth, and his mind hadn’t been on this track two seconds ago, it really hadn’t...

He hears you snort, tears his gaze back to your face, schoolboy guilt bunched in his stomach.

“Mmhmm,” you say, unbelieving. Your pleased little grin eases the shame, a balm on his heart.

“Yah, I really wasn’t,” he protests. “...but now that you mention it...”

Your snicker is cute, everything about you is so cute, and when did this happen, how did this happen, how did you become the most irresistible thing in Soobin’s world without him catching whiff of it before?

You surprise him when you lunge for him when he’s close enough, your arms flinging around his neck, soft mouth covering his. Like kissing him is a relief, like to you he’s something special, something to look forward to. He’s not going to question why, even if his own appeal to you puzzles him, just pulls you closer with his hands on your hips and kisses you back.

You pull back far too quickly, and he frowns, missing you already. He’s immediately distracted, though, at the delicate feeling of your fingertips ruffling in the soggy strands of his hair.

“Thanks for springing for this place,” you murmur, grateful little smile on your face. “I love it.”

“’Course, baby,” he hums, trying not to feel too smug for nailing it. All of it was worth it just for this.

Your gaze follows a droplet of water traveling down his neck and over his chest. One of your hands leaves his hair, tracing the wing of his collarbone gently.

“You’re really hot when you’re all wet,” you admit, floating off your feet and hooking your legs around his waist.

Your positioning immediately stokes his carnal interest. He blinks, dazed grin spreading slowly over his face.

“Only when I’m all wet?” He teases, hands on a slow glide from your hips to cup beneath your thighs, holding you in place.

You tsk at him, fingers still playing in slow, hypnotic patterns through his hair and over his chest. “Fishing for compliments? Don’t tell me you don’t hear them all the time. We know what you look like.”

He loves watching your mouth when you talk. The shape of your lips is something he’s constantly cataloguing for long-term memory, both from looking at and feeling them with his own.

“I only ever want your compliments,” he says absently, thumbs drawing little circles on your thighs, completely mesmerized. “They’re the only ones that count.”

He can see the reflection of the flickering surface of the pool in your eyes. Something thrills in his chest when the edges of your smile turn a little shy.

“Flirt,” you murmur, leaning in closer.

He blinks, drawing the tip of his nose along yours slowly. He can’t remember what he said. He should try to remember, should take it down to use later, but you’re quite literally hanging all over him and you’re all wet in a swimsuit and your mouth is only inches away and he is not God’s strongest soldier, after all.

He leans down and fastens his mouth over yours, kissing you like he has all the time in the world. It’s quickly becoming one of his favorite things to do, finding all the ways your mouths can fit together. He teases the tip of his tongue along your lower lip, heart racing when you sigh into his mouth and open for him. God. The taste of you, mingled with pool water and the lip balm you’d borrowed from him earlier, is enough to turn off all the thoughts in his brain.

Mouth still playing over yours, he wades slowly backward, inching towards the pool steps, crouching as the water gets shallow to keep you both weightless in the water. His heel knocks against the bottom step and he stumbles back, kiss breaking as he sits down hard.

Your little giggle goes straight to his crotch for reasons he can’t decipher. He grins, sheepish, lifts himself up to sit on the next-highest step, reaching for your hips and reeling you back in. You straddle his lap without him even having to ask, more proof to his mind that you’re perfect, and when he tilts his chin up you meet him halfway.

Everything about you in his arms feels right, and Soobin feels something unidentifiable deep within him settling into place. All his senses are honed in on you, on your mouth moving with his, on the gentle chaos of your breath, on the soft suppleness of you relaxing into him as he kisses you with slow, consuming ardor. His hands slide in restless patterns over you, and eventually his mouth parts from yours and drags along the line of your jaw.

“For the record,” he murmurs, pausing to nip softly at your earlobe, “you’re really hot when you’re all wet, too.”

Your laugh is breathless, a bolt of heat to his gut. “Only when I’m all wet?”

“Especially when you’re all wet,” he whispers, nuzzling against the hollow beneath your ear, savoring how you shiver.

Your skin is cool beneath his mouth, and he makes it a personal mission to warm it again, openmouthed kisses gliding smooth and wet and hot along the expanse of your neck, the curve of your shoulder, the wing of your collarbone. He feels you hum and relax further into his lap, tension in your muscles melting you closer against him, candle wax near open flame. He marvels innocently at how incredibly silky you are, even over firmer places, how there’s a hint of you behind the chlorine on your skin, and he needs more of it, feels an itch in his brain for more you in his senses.

“Hey,” you protest halfheartedly as he fumbles with the ties of your swimsuit top. “This is a public pool, someone could come up.”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, hearing the words purely at a sound level, feeling the ties come loose in his hands with a slithery tickle. He nuzzles into the inside curve of your breast, nudging fabric away from wet skin, mouth slipping along the plush undercurve. Pure fascination wins out as he opens his mouth wider, bites, sucks.

He feels you twitch in surprise at the feeling, soothes his hands along your back in half-apology, laser-focused on the feel, the taste of you in his mouth. You’re sensitive here, not as excruciatingly sensitive as your nipples, but that just means he doesn’t have to be as careful, can let his curiosity at the feeling of you win unrestricted.

He continues nibbling and sucking in that spot, slides a hand around to your front and tugs the now-loose top away, tossing it behind him blindly. He feels your hands tighten on his shoulders when he settles his hand back on you, cupping your other breast. He eases the pad of his thumb in gentle circles over your areola, mesmerized at the way the skin puckers and tightens to a point under the lazy caress. He hears you swallow back a moan, feels one of your hands slide up and weave fingers through his hair, and that base instinct deep in his gut puffs its chest knowing that he affects you like this.

He lifts his mouth from your skin with a crude pop, other hand sliding from your back to brush a thumb over the hickey. He knows you love when he leaves them on your neck, but it still makes him shy to know other people will see them and make assumptions about what your love lives are like. This one, however, on this pillowy curve of skin that only the two of you get to see, is right up his alley. Satisfied with how dark it is already, he nuzzles your breast and settles his mouth over your nipple.

The little noise you make is adorable, and Soobin finds himself smiling against your skin. He traces his tongue over the budding peak, unhurried, takes your other nipple between his fingers and pinches until you gasp. He can’t resist rolling it slowly between his fingers, twisting one way and then the other as he circles the other in lazy circles with his tongue.

He hears a frayed whimper in your throat, the helpless wriggle of your hips against his inflaming him further. He’s never been addicted to a person before, but he’s hooked on you for sure, wants to take inventory of every inch of you, every reaction he can incite, every texture and scent and movement. He drags his mouth to your other breast and kisses your poor abused nipple gently, massages it better with his tongue as his hand takes over the one he left behind.

All of you drowns his senses—the cool slipperiness of your skin, the little whines you sigh out, the way you keep cinching yourself closer to him, burying your face against his hair, agonizing friction in your laps. He can’t stop himself from groping your ass and tucking your hips in tighter against his, fascinated by the feeling of your muscles twitching and contracting with desire.

He makes a noise of surprise when your hand in his hair tightens and yanks, angling his face up to yours. You crush your mouth over his, and his hands are immediately all over you, roaming restless paths over every inch of you he can reach, urging you closer. He wants to drown in you, be consumed by you, devour you with all five senses at once and then more.

It’s not enough. He wrenches his mouth from yours, panting, tapping your hip.

“Up,” he pants.

You hesitate only a second before moving off of his lap. He stands quickly and takes your hand, sloshing his way up the remaining steps and out of the pool with you in tow.

You seem to be on the same wavelength, to an extent, matching his pace as he makes his way over to the chairs with your things on them. He guides you in front of him, a twinge of fondness in his chest at the sight of your arm attempting to cover your chest, as if that doesn’t just make them look especially sumptuous, and he wants his hands back on you, wants to test how squishable—

“Down,” he pants, hand nudging your shoulder until you sit on the chaise, then nudging again until you lie back. His other hand is already untying your swim bottoms, one side and then the other, gaze laser-focused as he leans in and presses a kiss low on your abdomen, parting your legs.

“I—wait, ‘Binnie,” you protest, hand coming to his head. “Stop—we are outside, someone could look out a window and see—”

“Don’t care,” he mumbles against your skin, mouth already gliding along the inside of your thigh. The looming buildings nearby, the vague hum of city life stories below, the night sky, the pool, everything is in a foggy haze in Soobin’s mind. His only focus is you, on how downy soft you are, how you shiver as his tongue darts out to catch at water droplets on your skin.

“Easy for you to say, you’re still wearing someth—ah,” you squeak as Soobin yanks your now-completely untied bottoms away, balling them up absently in one hand and hurling them to oblivion. “Wait, I’m serious, Soobinnnnnnngh.”

He groans into the apex of your thighs, mouth open wide and tongue flattened along as much of you as possible. God, yes, this is exactly what he’s after, concentration and essence of you overwhelming his senses. Slowly, he curls the tip of his tongue, dragging his mouth up, the motion gently parting wet layers of inner softness. You slap a hand over your mouth, moaning as the tip of his tongue laves over the sensitive crest at the very peak, and he lingers there for a moment, leaving an openmouthed kiss.

Blindly, he fumbles above him, finding your arm and pulling your hand away from your mouth, anchoring your wrist to the chaise. He feels your other hand tighten hard in his hair as he continues leaving wet, sucking kisses all over the sensitive tucks and pleats of flesh, working you up with ruthless patience.

He daydreams about this more often than he cares to admit, even more so when the two of you are apart, and he’s determined to learn and implement the way you like it best, the way that makes you lose all sense of shame. Admittedly, he gets a little carried away in part because you’ve told him your former partners were merely passable at eating you out. His competitive streak, combined with this growing obsession with you, make him determined to be extra attentive whenever you grant him this opportunity.

It’s difficult to stay focused, though, the hot and wet feel of you on his mouth, the taste of you on his tongue, enough to make him delirious. He easily gets lost in the savoring, mapping every inch of you under his tongue, lingering in places just because it makes you tremble and whine like you’re desperate for him, and he wants you just as desperate for him as he feels about you.

He hums into you, delighted, when your legs close in around his head as he closes his mouth over your clit and sucks. Everything goes muffled, even the little moans of his name you’re trying to bite back, but it hardly matters when he can feel your limbs shaking, feel you hot and throbbing against his mouth. You start trying to buck your hips into his face, and he slides his free arm over your abdomen and pins you down, steadying you both. He tongues over you in wet, languid strokes, feels the clenching flutter of the entrance into your body. Pure fascination drives him again, and he strokes you there again, stiffening his tongue and driving it into you.

Oh, god. The tight, blistering heat of you, the taste, nearly unmans him. He moans into you, guttural, and nearly loses his mind at the way he can feel your inner muscles fluttering and clenching rhythmically on his tongue like a heartbeat.

The overwhelming need to make you come slams into him like a tidal wave. He’s determined now, anchoring you in place and delving his tongue into you in delicately aggressive thrusts, nuzzling into you deeper and deeper. He can hear you whining even with your thighs muffling his ears, the sound increasingly desperate, and he wants to give you anything in the whole world that you want, would roll over and bark if you asked, so he doubles his efforts and slides his mouth back up to suck and tongue at that most sensitive bud, wringing sensation like raw honey from the comb.

He wonders for a brief moment if he could come just like this, completely untouched with his face buried between your legs, moaning into you like your pleasure is his own, and if that makes him a munch then so be it. And then you tense and tighten against him for a full moment and the pleasure uncoils, your whole body arching and shuddering in euphoria. He shoves his tongue back into you and moans, lightheaded at each of the siphoning ripples of fulfillment pulling him in deeper, drunk on the little sobs of pleasure you make.

God. He’s never wanted anything as much as he wants to be wrapped up in you right the fuck now. He eases you through the quaking pulses of ecstasy and starts fumbling with the drawstring of his swimsuit, taking care not to touch himself for fear of blowing his load in his pants like a teenager. Raw need claws at his insides like a rabid animal, desire to make sure everything is perfect for you warring against his impatience, his craving to skip over things like a condom and gentleness and—

Condom. Oh. He remembers reminding himself to grab one, remembers seeing the box of them tucked into his bag and knowing one would be needed, and yet here he is, empty-handed. Fuck.

“We have to go back to the room,” he groans, leaning back and mopping his chin with the back of his hand. “Now. I need to be in you more than I need to live another day.”

Through your pleasured exhaustion, a lazy smile forms on your lips. You shake your head, glancing over and gesturing at his dress shirt you’d borrowed.

“Don’t need to go back downstairs,” you breathe, and fuck, your post-orgasm voice is devastatingly sexy. “Get the shirt, I brought a condom.”

He blinks at you, once, twice, not comprehending. “You...”

Color flushes over your skin prettily. “I...I thought it never hurts to be prepared. For anything.”

Soobin is trying to process that you’ve had a plan for being up here that involves a condom. Dazed, he glances over at the neighboring chaise, reaches for the shirt.

“Is there a condom...in the shirt...?”

Your breathless giggle ties his insides into little knots.

“You didn’t notice the weird shape in the breast pocket earlier?” You ask, eyes crinkled in mirth.

Through the haze of oh my god she wants us to fuck, Soobin finds it in him to be indignant again. “I wasn’t looking at—I was trying not to look, you know, at...”

He huffs a sigh as he extracts the condom from the shirt pocket, unable to stay annoyed even as you keep giggling at him.

“Here I was trying to be respectful,” he tsks, smiling even as his ears grow hot.

You snort. “Ah yes, the respectful boyfriend that strips his girlfriend at a public pool and commits sex acts on her where anyone could stumble in on them.”

“No one’s going to stumble in,” Soobin breathes, trying to make his hands dry enough to tear the condom packet open.

“What do you mean?”

“Pool’s closed,” he says, giving up and tearing at the packet with his teeth.

“The pool is closed? Are we going to get in trouble for—”

“It’s not really closed,” he says. “I just paid the front desk to tell the rest of the hotel guests that it’s closed.”

You stare at him for so long in stunned silence that he starts feeling a little antsy. “You bribed the hotel...so you could have sex with me?”

“I would bribe anyone with anything to spend even five platonic minutes alone with you,” he protests, fumbling the condom out of the wrapper.

He stills when you grab his wrist, arresting him with your stare. There’s something at work behind your eyes, something he doesn’t know the name for.

“What?” He whispers.

After a long moment, you swallow. “Nothing. I just...no, nothing. Here, let me.”

You keep eye contact as you slip the condom out of his hand, and he shivers when your other hand brushes down his abdomen. His breath stutters when you take hold of him, and he feels himself twitch in your hand after going so long neglecting himself.

If he doesn’t redirect his attention he may still finish before he can even get inside you. “People might—might still be able to see from windows,” he stammers as you roll the condom on, spreading your legs.

You shrug a shoulder, abashed smile still on your face. “If they see, they see,” you breathe.

Sometimes you make him breathless.

“Remind me not to believe you,” he murmurs, settling himself between your legs, “when you say you’re too shy to do this out in the open.”

You laugh as he drags his tip over you, catching on your entrance. “Don’t push it, this is a special ca—ohh.”

Ohh, indeed. Soobin moans and drops his forehead against your temple, feeling what little remains of his sanity obliterating the further inside he eases into you. You’ve been intimate like this before, but no matter how prepared Soobin thinks he is, every time feels like the first time all over again. Nothing ever truly prepares him for the scalding hot, wet glide into unimaginable tightness, for how even when you’re relaxed, he has to bully himself into you inch by inch. He’s shaking with the effort to be gentle, nudges his hips slowly until bit by bit, all of him is enveloped snugly inside.

“How can you feel this perfect,” he groans, most of the willpower left at his disposal exerted on lasting, good god he needs to last even just to feel you around him like this for longer—

You laugh again, breathless, and the way that feels when you’re connected like this is sinfully good. “I try.”

“No you don’t,” he gasps, rocking his hips gingerly into yours. “You just are.”

You whimper as the angle of his hips drives him into a sensitive place inside of you. He grinds into the spot again, careful, his restraint threadbare but hanging on.

“Please,” you pant, hitching your knees further up, and the adjustment of angle forcing him even deeper.

Soobin nearly chokes on his own tongue. Fuck. He thrusts like he’s afraid of himself, mantra of don’t come don’t come don’t come flooding the forefront of his mind, sheer force of will.

“I won’t break,” you plead, voice so breathy and fucked-out it belongs in high-end porn. Sweet merciful god, he can’t do this.

He feels your mouth drag along his shoulder, and then a flash of sharpness. His body reacts to the bite before his mind can catch up, hips surging hard against yours, strangled noise punching out of his throat. Your legs tighten around him, intimate muscles clenching in that way that means hell yes, and the groan from deep in his chest is inevitable as he snaps his hips again. Fuck.

Yeah, okay, he can do this for you. That base instinct in his gut purrs like a feral dragon at the way you can no longer hide your moans, being fucked like this. His new goal now is to build stamina, he’s determined, needs to be able to do you exactly how you want it for hours without stopping. He thinks he might be moaning too but he can’t hear, so preoccupied with drinking in every clench of your muscles around him, every little pleasured expression on your face, addiction to every part of you wrapped around him like this so intense he feels lightheaded.

He can’t tell if you’re shaking or he is, only knows you’re pulling him in like you aren’t already as close as it is humanly possible to be, like that somehow isn’t enough, like you can meld yourselves into a singular being if you try hard enough. Your fingernails dig hard into his shoulders, your breath stuttering in that way that tells him just what’s coming next, and then you shatter around him.

You become impossibly tighter around him, bearing down with rhythmic spasms luring him deeper inside, as if that’s even possible, like he hasn’t been working himself as deep into you as he can go, purely for selfish reasons. He never wants to leave, would live inside you if he could, and he loves that you get like this with him, loves the way you go soft and pliant when the release begins ebbing, god, he loves—

His release hits him with no warning, no buildup, hard as a bullet train. Fuck. It feels like nothing that’s ever happened to him before, and a stab of panic electrocutes him through the feeling. His ears are ringing, alarm bells tolling danger in his bones, and he feels out of control, completely gone, glass making impact at last and shattering into far-flung pieces, impossible to gather again. It’s all he can do to gasp for breath, clutching at you like handfuls of sand that keep slipping away, hips rocking into you, slow, rhythmic, with a mind of their own.

Your arms slide around his back, warm pressure like an anchor point, and just with that, with your tight embrace and each deep breath you take, you’ve found each piece of him, binding him back together. Only now the essence of you fills in the cracks, the healing balm, each sinew of him now limned with your glow. A moth made of flame.

Soobin tries to take as even breaths as possible, tries to sound calm, rests his face against the chaise next to your face and feels a hot stinging drip from his eyelashes.

He knows what that look in your eyes was earlier, he realizes. The unidentifiable emotion. He knows because it’s clicking for him right now, the knowledge that he feels that way, too.

Admin Ellie’s Masterlist

[love-toxin]

Got so excited thinking about a Paddy fic I got light headed 😵‍💫

MRRRROWWWW OOGGHOOGHH i am conceptualizing him so hard rn.

unfortunately u cannot give mcavoy a psychotic dilf role without me absolutely going rabid!! and although i don't wanna spoil too much......hehe. perhaps a tiny preview 🤌

(cws: DDNE, nc, fem pronouns, kidnapping)

[frost-queen]

Travel fevers (Reader x Colin Bridgerton)

Requested by anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex–awesome–22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m, @erikasurfer

Summary: Colin and reader meet on his travels to Spain. Your father having brought you along to his travels so many times when you were young. Colin and you started to bond more, falling deeply in love. When you return to Mayfair, he introduces you to his family with the intention to make you his.

“Those barrels go in the back.” – you said pointing with your pencil in the direction. Scribbling down on the paper you were holding as the man pushed the barrel further up the ship. Another man came up the plank from the port with a barrel. – “Spices Senorita.” – he said tipping his head at you. You nodded writing down on your paper, redirecting him to a corner of the ship.

Turning slightly around to the deck of the ship, you started counting to make sure your calculations were correct. – “That’s three barrels of salt.” – you said out loud to one of the workmen by your side. – “Four barrels of pickled fish. Two with peppers and twelve boxes of oranges.” – you finished looking at him if you were correct.

“Ay senorita.” – he answered taking his hat off to you. – “Wonderful. Go take a bottle of rum, Miguel.”  - you patted him on the bac. Miguel bowed at you before taking his leave. Another one of the worker approached you, needing a signature from you. You happily signed it, gaze falling down on a man standing to stare below on the port.

“Seeing anything you like?” – you called out, catching him off guard. – “I’m… I’m sorry but did you just…” – he began running up the plank, grabbing onto the railing to get closer to you. – “Is this your ship?” – he questioned making sure he didn’t violate your property by remaining on the plank. – “Yes.” – you replied seeing him gape with curiosity at you. – “Never seen a woman own anything?” – you asked moving your hands to your hip.

The man quickly shook his head. – “No, no I didn’t mean it like that.” – he corrected himself. – “It is just admiring.” – he spoke. – “A woman doing business?” – you teased, quirking your eyebrow up. The man chuckled amusingly. – “A woman traveling the world.” – he answered making you laugh loud.

He dropped to a bow, introducing himself. – “Lord Colin Bridgerton.” – he addressed himself. You dropped into a curtsy. – “Countess Y/n Y/l/n.” – you introduced yourself. – “Would my lord be interested in the invitation of welcoming on my ship?” – you asked, gesturing behind you. – “I will gladly accept, your ladyship.”

You moved aside for Colin to step on the deck. Guiding him to a spot on the deck near the masts. Using barrels as seating. Miguel approached, placing two glasses down. – “Apologies that it is not as comfortable as you are used to, my lord.” – you said while Miguel poured the drinks. Colin smiled politely. – “Part of the experience.” – he answered making you smile. Colin and you rose your glass before drinking.

You set your glass down, admiring the man for a moment. – “What brings you to Spain?” – you asked curious what an English lord was doing so far from home. – “The culture.” – he answered, setting his glass down as well. – “I needed to spread my wings a bit before returning home.” – he added. – “I see. The women must be interesting then.” – you responded making him nearly choke on his drink.

“I…I…” – he started, trying to hide his laugh, waving his hand across. – “Oh goodness did I make you blush?” – you teased looking mischievous at him. Colin set his glass back down, clearing his throat. Throwing you flirtatious glance back. – “Is there a lord Y/l/n?” – he wanted to know, being very curious.

You shook your head. Colin looked all smug, gleaming with your response. Placing his hand on the barrel in front of him, he was intrigued to know more about you. – “What makes a countess like yourself travel so far from England as well?” – he said. You leaned your elbows on the barrel, chin resting on your hands. – “My father used to bring me along to his travels ever since I was a young child.” – you told him. – “Travelling is in my blood.” – you finished.

“My father cared so much to be present with the imports. My mother died when I was very young, so he had no other choice than to take me along. He’d rather travel the world with me around then return after so long and having missed seeing me grow up.” – you explained, leaning back to gaze at the horizon for a moment.

“Your father sounds like a remarkable man.” – Colin answered. – “He is.” – you sighed out. – “Is he…?” – Colin was curious. – “Gods no.” – you called out half in shock. – “He is simply enjoying retirement. The longs trips take a toll on his body. He is back at home managing from afar.”

Colin hummed loud. He rose his glass once more. – “To your father.” – he said to toast. You brought your glass up as well, letting it touch with his. – “To travelling.” – you replied before taking a sip. – “What is your next destination?” – Colin asked pointing at the last barrels that were loaded on deck. – “Portugal.” – you told him. –“Then it is a trip back home.” – finishing. Colin glanced teasingly your way.

You leaned closer to him. – “Care to join or does my lord have other obligations?” – you flashed your gaze down to his lips before locking them on his eyes once more. Colin came leaning in as well, arm resting on the barrel. – “I have no other obligations my ladyship than to come with you.” – he answered, eyeing your lips as well.

If he were still in England, he didn’t know if he would be so bold. But something about being away from the ton and restrictions made him act more freely. Perhaps it was also the culture not being so stiff as England that he adored.

You poured him another glass, chatting a bit more till it was time to leave the port. Taking the long journey to Portugal. Colin has been on a ship before, yet this one felt special. You had invited him that night to dine with him. Something instantly clicking. Colin and you kept throwing glances at each other from across the table. His head spinning as he felt himself go feral for you. The way you were teasing him by just being present.

The ladies in Spain were pleasant, but you were on a different level. Perhaps it was the wine or the rockiness of the waves that made him act so out of control. Colin got up going round the table to you. You blinked surprised when he pressed his hands against your cheeks. Guiding you upwards as you rose from your seat. Eyes locked on each other with the most lovable expression.

“Forgive me your ladyship.” – he breathed against your skin before smacking his lips to yours. You felt the deepness of his kiss, holding him. Retrieving your lips, you turned round, swiping your hands over the table to clear the way. Colin smirked as you hopped onto the table. Grabbing him by his shirt, you pulled him close, wanting his lips on yours once more.

It took around a month to arrive at the harbour of Portugal. Colin and you deeply falling in love with each other. You were arranging the supplies as Colin was watching you from afar. Smiling admirable at you. Feeling himself lucky that he found you on his travels. Your gaze locked briefly on him, smiling. Colin walked over, feeling as if it was his cue to come closer to you. He approached you, taking your hand to kiss it.

It made you chuckle, giving him a playful shove. – “It is nice to see husband and wife travelling together.” – a worker said with a thick accent as he helped some crates board the ship. – “Oh we aren’t…” – You told him, waving your hand across. – “Not yet.” – Colin interrupted, making you gape at him. He took your hand once more, smiling.

“For I intend to make you mine once we return home, Y/n.” – he said leaving another kiss on your hand. It made you bashful. – “I’ll be holding you onto that dearest Colin.” – you replied giving him a playful shove. Colin assisted you in the business, recounting the supplies to be extra certain. You finished up the paperwork, paying the dockworkers from Portugal.

They were preparing the ship to sail out as you stood by the railing. Colin came over, moving his arms around your waist. – “Now another month of sailing before we are on English soil.” – you informed him as he left a kiss on your shoulder. – “The only reason I am looking forward to getting back home is to make you my wife.” – he breathed out leaving another kiss on your shoulder.

It tickled making you move your shoulder up. – “What will your family say?” – you turned around in his embrace to face him. – “Leaving to travel Europe and return with a girl whom you wish to marry.” – you said teasingly. Colin smiled keeping his hands against your cheeks. – “Not just any girl. My beautiful, beautiful Y/n.” – he responded before kissing you. A month passed as the ship was on English ground. The shipment send out to other businesses as you received payment for them.

Colin and you got into a carriage, riding for him home. You were very nervous as you wondered what his family might think. Colin holding your hand gave you some comfort. The trip was long with several stops, but you were glad to make it to the mainland. Mayfair. The hometown of Colin Bridgerton. The carriage came to a stop before the house. Colin getting out, holding his hand out to you. You accepted it, getting out as well.

The doorman opened the door. Colin held his finger up to you, wanting you to wait just a moment. He entered the drawing room as you heard lots of loud voices and screams of happiness. Stroking any last wrinkles out of your dress, you prepared yourself to meet his family. Colin reappeared, holding his hand out to you. You took it as he lead you into the drawing room. – “Mother, brothers, sisters I want you to meet my betrothed Countess Y/n Y/l/n.” – Colin introduced you as you curtsied deep for them.

Violet looked with surprise at her son. – “Countess?” – Anthony said to Benedict, surprised that his brother had aimed so high. – “It is a pleasure meeting you, Viscountess Bridgerton.” – you said, curtsying once more. – “She’s pretty.” – Hyacinth said to Francesca.

Violet smiled delightful, coming over to give you a hug. – “Oh look at you.” – she said holding her hand under your chin. Smiling, she held her hand, looking back at her own children. That was their cue as Hyacinth rushed over to you. She wrapped her arms around you, hugging you tight.

“I have a new sister.” – she said squeezing you in her embrace. Colin tapped her on the shoulder, to let go. – “I have brought gifts for you all from my travels.” – you told them. You handed Hyacinth her gift as she gasped loud. You then gave everyone else their gift as they were obsessed with how wonderful it was. Colin smiled back at you, kissing your hand.

Proud that his family had accepted you and seen just how wonderful you are. Colin and you waited till the appropriate time after the social season to get married. Forever binding to each other. Travelling Europe together for business whenever it was needed. A life Colin couldn’t say goodbye to anymore.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[caitskywalker14]

Run For The Hills - Toxic! Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

So this is my first post on here and I’m currently DOWN BAD for Ellie and I LOVE all the angst fics people write on here so wanted to do my own based on ‘run for the hills’ by Tate McRae as the song is soooo good! And fits the mood of this story??? lol. This also is super long but it’s worth it I hope

Anyway, i hope you all enjoy this as much as I have writing it you hoes xx

( toxic!ellie, cheating, drug mention, substance use, situationships, reader is aware its wrong but can’t stop loving Ellie, swearing, hints of spice, modern au, overall negative vibes from Ellie, TW bruises and physical pain as well as mental/emotional pain, confusing love and lust, toxic name calling, manipulation and angst)

Bold is lyrics of the song xx

GIF is not mine - credit to original owner and creator.

Hotels, late nights, hands through my hair

Long talks, red eyes, clothes everywhere

Missing a moment when you're still there

You gotta thing you can't find nowhere, yeah-yeah

“Yeah well you’re fucking stupid if you think that you’re the only girl I’m screwing” screamed Ellie, her voice cracking in anger as she watched you pace up and down her apartment for what seemed like the 100th time this month. Despite it being late into the evening, your clothes were scattered all over the furniture, a reminder of the madness that just happened, and you desperately wanted to gather them and get out.

You and Ellie had a complicated relationship, if you could even call it that - hot, tension filled sex and arguments mixed with the drugs and alcohol fuelled college parties only made the situations you would find yourself in 10 times worse. Not to mention her lying, cheating, manipulation, and endless list of red flags that would lead any sane person to immediately cut ties… Yet there was something about the girl that drew you in. Like a moth to a flame, she enticed you, her words like honey when she whispered filthy words of praise in your ears, fingers rough yet still gentle on the rare occasions she’d take care of you after sex. And those eyes - those piercing, green eyes that seemed to fill your core with heat and desire every time she looked into yours. Ellie Williams truly was something else, and you knew it - she knew it too. Her confidence oozed sex appeal, as she often would remind you during arguements, like tonight, that she could “get any girl in her bed” and she didn’t have a problem with getting “pretty girls with pretty pussy”.

Sometimes, on a rare occasion, she’d let you in to see her softer side. Her front of being cocky and arrogant slipped away when she’d carefully hold your hand whilst tenderly stroking your skin to calm you down at parties, or when you’d come to see her and she’d made a poor attempt of a pasta dish she heard you talk about for dinner and even on some mornings where you would wake up to her softly caressing your face whilst running her hands through your hair as she gazed with nothing but love and affection towards you. The long, deep talks you’d have whilst sharing weed, eyes red and hazy where you’d talk about hopes and plans for the future whilst she listened eagerly, joining in to talk and interrupt your rants with sweet kisses, both of you giggling like children. These moments were what kept you coming back for more, however these were rarer recently as the only things you would do together were fight, argue, cry, fuck and ghost each other in the ongoing cycle of your “situation”.

Deep down, you knew that Ellie had issues with commitment, whether that be with you, college work or even part time jobs - it wasn’t her “thing” as she often said to upset you during fights, preferring to live life recklessly which honestly fucked with your head in more ways than one. How could someone who claimed to love you cheat on you with girls all over campus? The same girl who said she was yours - that you owned her mind,body and soul, had messages and messages on her phone from girls who desperately wanted to sleep with her again. She truly was a piece of shit towards you, and you knew this yet foolishly still gave into her with a click of her fingers and you’d go running back. The truth was, when you cut her off you felt free, like you could breathe and the air was suddenly fresh and clear of all pollution yet inside your body, it didn’t feel right - you began to miss the moments you had when she was temporarily yours, you missed her mouth, the taste of her lips and the scent of her cologne. The things you couldn’t find in anyone else made it hard to leave, nowhere else felt like home to you.

Kissing, screaming, straight back to war

I'm walking out until I lock the door

Maybe the danger's covered by the thrill

'Cause I know I should be running for the hills

“Ellie I’m not fucking stupid that’s why I’m done with you, I’m done with whatever fucked up fantasy this is and I’m done with being treated like I don’t mean shit to you.” You paused in your step, hastily slipping on your jeans and hoodie as Ellie sat on her couch, smoking a cigarette with almost glassy eyes as she chuckled to herself.

“I’m exhausted Ellie, you’ve drained the life out of me and those messages?? Those fucking messages from Yasmine, that girl you swore you didn’t fuck last weekend when you bailed on our plans have tipped me over the fucking edge so I’m done”, you screamed at her, fuelled with anger and rage directed not only at Ellie and her antics, but yourself for being so dumb enough to think she could change. Ellie sat silently, you could see her mind was racing of what more hurtful lies she could spew at you. She puts her smoke out before she starts her talk.

“Yeah well, it’s not my fault you’re just a dumb slut who can’t get it into her skull that we aren’t a real thing, you should know that by now I fuck who I want, when I want, and you” she stands up, rushing into your personal space, beginning to jab her finger into your chest with each word, “YOU are not gonna stop me!“

“It’s your fault that I do cheat. I mean I have to put up with your bitchy whining all the time and I get sick of it. Why can’t you just be chill like the others?.”

You scoff in disbelief at her words, stepping back away from her vicious stance. Usually by now you’d be crying asking for her to stop and you’d seemingly end up back in her bed, but all you can think about is how disgusting she sounds and how you definitely deserve better. “Well I won’t whine anymore and I’m not gonna stop you from fucking whatever girl you pick, because you’re dead to me.”. You turn around, collecting your last few items, ignoring her cold stare piercing into your back.

Once you had gathered your belongings, you leant against the door frame to put your shoes on, when suddenly a brutal force pushed you against the door, Ellie had you trapped. She had her tatted, muscular arms pressed against the door, caging your body so you couldn’t escape. “Babe, come on, you know you don’t mean that.”, she utters, looking into your eyes with that smirk, teasing you with her tone. “You always act so tough and mighty but we both know what you want”. Ellie’s fingers now found themselves gripping at your chin, tilting your head up to look deeper into her eyes, still keeping you secure against her chest and the door. “You want to be consumed by me, you live and breathe for me baby and you know that I’m the only one who gives that pussy a good fuck, just how you like it”, her hands now trailing down to your hips to possessively grab you to further press herself into your body. You let out a small gasp at the impact, turning your head away to avoid looking into her eyes as she slowly traced kisses over the sensitive skin of your neck. Mustering your strength, you push Ellie away from you, opening the door to finally leave the toxic girl you once loved. Before you left, she dropped her last few words.

“You should have known not to get too attached baby, I told you to run for the hills before ever falling for me”

You shuddered. A sick part of you loved the thrill, the chase and the danger surrounding Ellie Williams, but yeah maybe you should run for the hills, and never come back.

The way you touch me

Straight to the heart, yeah

It cuts me

'Cause I know deep down that it's

Never gonna ever be us, oh

Never gonna ever be more than just something that's fucking me up

A few days have passed, and you’re alone in your room. Since your messy “breakup” with Ellie, you don’t think you’ve ever been this bored in your entire life. Mindlessly, you begin scrolling on social media, checking snap, TikTok and the usual sites to see what everyone’s up to. Scrolling through instagram stories, you stumble across Ellie’s. You forgot to block her account this time, you’d been busy doing your own thing and your method of “healing” didn’t include blocking…more in the form of parties, kissing girls and doing shots until you blacked out with your friends.

Anxiously, you debated whether or not to click it - you knew she’d see you in her views and probably boast about it to her friends that you were obsessed with her, but you thought fuck it and clicked onto it. You held a breath as you nervously waited for the story to load. When it did, your heart stopped in your chest, a painful cut seeping slowly through your skin. It was a picture of Ellie in a bathroom mirror at what seemed to be a party, with a girl (a girl whom you actually haven’t seen her with before), bent over with Ellie stood behind her grabbing her hip as the other hand held her phone so she could pose in the mirror. The story included a caption “New bitch who dis” and the song choice was rather interesting at least - “I don’t fuck with you”.

As soon as you’d saw this, you finally let out a gasp of shock as you paused the screen, examining every last detail of the picture - Ellie’s fingernails now painted black, her signature flannel shirt unbuttoned for a relaxed look and her smirk as she looked into the camera, almost as if she was taunting you by her public display of her latest fling. It hurt, you couldn’t lie or pretend that her attempt of making you feel shitty didn’t work because it did. You looked as Ellie’s hand was possessively gripping the girl’s hip, often like how she would with you when she’d take you from behind (especially at parties when you’d sneak off to the bathroom), and you missed her touch. The way her fingers worked inside you, curling to hit the spot that made you see stars, the way they’d pull and tug at your hair when she’d pound you and the touch of her lips when she’d suck on your neck and nipples when she fucked you. It all came flooding back into your head and you felt your eyes swell with tears, stomach aching as you felt your emotions overflowing.

Still, deep down, you knew that it would never just be you and her. You knew your once-ideal-world of you being together was a facade. You knew that you’d never be enough for Ellie, enough to make her change. Despite this, it still hurt and the wounds she left seemed like they’d never heal. This toxic cycle did nothing but fuck you up each time it happened. Swiping off her story, you took a deep breath as you laid your head back onto your pillow, closing your eyes as you took deep breaths.

You made a promise to yourself to rise above it - you deserved so much better.

I know that when it's all done

I'll hate you bad in the long run

But, somehow, it never ends

My heel's on the edge of your bed again, yeah

I get obsessive with you

All that I want is attention from you

Break into my life and break all my rules, it's true

It had now been nearly 2 weeks since you’d seen Ellie in person, and despite her numerous attempts to contact you via calling, texting, Snapchat and all the rest, your dislike for the girl was still strong and you swore that you had finally closed your chapter with Ellie for good. It was also down to your friends (who always were there when she’d hurt you in the past) that literally warned you not to go back or else they’d rock your shit. They hated Ellie and hated her making you cry. You promised them that it was done, finished and over, convincing them and yourself that you hated her.

The weekend was finally approaching and there were major plans for a party at one of the frat houses on campus. You and your friends were extremely excited to attend, especially after a hard week of exams, tests and homework. The best medicine you all needed was to look sexy, get wasted and maybe even hook up with fellow party-goers. It was that one night that you desperately craved someone’s attention. You just didn’t think it would be from the person who broke your heart…Ellie. Even more so after all you’ve said about “not falling back into her trap”. Again, fate decided that this cycle would never end.

The night was crazy, you had had more shots that you could count, cups and cups full of endless spirits mixed with cheap juices/soda. You had laughed with friends whilst dancing to the playlist booming from the speakers, comforted random girls in the bathroom who cried over their exes and gotten a few girls socials (maybe even had a few kisses too but you’d probably forget all about them in the morning). However, all the fun had to come to an end at some point.

As soon as you saw Ellie stood in the corner, her eyes darkening with lust and passion, heat filled your core and you felt those same butterflies you felt the first time you saw her. The music and voices turned to a blur as the only thing you could focus on was her as she slowly walked towards you through the crowd, pulling you into her arms to hold you close - almost as if you’d slip away again if she let go. Nervously, you looked into her eyes, cursing yourself for craving her touch and attention. You were down bad, obsessed with her and it would surely be the death of you.

“You ready to come home babe?” She asked softly, a hint of amusement in her tone as she rested her hands on your waist, rubbing up and down your body.

The only thing you could do was nod as she gripped your hand, her poisonous touch melting away at your flesh as she led you to the uber she’d booked. Whisking you away from the party with only one thing on her mind - make up sex. Touching and tasting your body, the things that Ellie missed way more than she’d admit.

You broke the promise you made to your friends, you broke the promise to yourself and you let her invade your life like a parasite once again. It’s true, you’d let her break you down again like always. All just to gain some sort of attention from her, even if it was fake.

You hooked up once more.

Should run for the hills, should run for the hills

Should be running for the hills

The way you touch me

The next morning you woke up, limbs tangled and your clothes scattered all over Ellie’s cluttered bedroom. Your head was pounding from your hangover as you turned to Ellie’s sleeping figure next to you. She looked so peaceful, at ease and calm as you watched her chest rise slowly with each breath she took. You laid there for a good 30 minutes, counting each freckle on her cheeks, tracing her scars lightly to not wake her.

You wish every moment you spent with Ellie could be like this - it would be a dream come true. Though you knew deep down that this moment would be ruined in some way or another when the girl woke up, or even in a few days when her habits caught up with her. You felt your eyes fill with salty tears as you felt nausea overcome you when gazing at her. How could someone so beautiful cause so much suffering?

Lightly turning over, you stretched your sore limbs as you got up to head to the bathroom, walking in and turning the light on.

You looked a mess - a physical manifestation of your mind and soul. Lips cracked and sore, as you gazed at your reflection. Your chest was covered in bites and bruises, causing you to wince as you’d accidentally press too hard on your wrists, where her hands had gripped you last night. Looking down, your inner thighs were not left untouched with finger prints and bites there too. Last night was a blur, you enjoyed the sex you and Ellie would engage in but last night seemed to cause more pain than pleasure. As you stood there in silence you came to the reality…

This was the touch you craved? These were the type of marks that drove you wild?

How did you not see the physical damage she did to you?

You spent all your time being mentally drained by Ellie that you’d forgotten how it felt physically to be treated like this by someone you were supposed to love and feel protected by. It wasn’t right and you felt like a fool for it taking this long for you to truly realise the impact she had on you. Her touch was toxic, her words were venom and you’d clearly confused love and lust as the same thing. You had spent that much time focusing on the rare good moments you’d have with Ellie, that they had made you forget how unhealthy it all was.

Washing your face with cold water, you looked into the mirror at the girl you didn’t recognise. It was time to leave. For good. Before it was too late.

Leaving the bathroom, you silently began getting dressed, trying your best to not break down and wake her. Ellie was a deep sleeper, especially after drinking so you knew that this would be an easy escape. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you looked round the room at all of her posters, pictures and trinkets she had. You inhaled the scent of pine leaves, mint and vanilla. Taking a deep breath, you looked at Ellie once more, before leaning down to place a kiss at the top of her head and you left.

You did the one thing you’d never thought you’d do.

You ran for those hills and you never looked back.

So guys I hope you enjoyed this first piece I wrote, it made me emotional to write this as I myself have been through similar situations as well as people I know in real life. As I stated this is my first piece so I know there will be some errors as I’m new to this, thanks for understanding!

Abuse in any form is not ok. This work is purely for fictional purposes and not to be taken as a representation of a healthy, human relationship.

Please know that help is there if you need it. You’re not alone🖤

Please show some love and support below and let me know what you think. I might do more of these if I get requests or enough people like this one.

Thanks again x

[teastyun]

some spicy Abby x reader recs ✂️

author‘s note: no gatekeeping in this household! please let me know if any of the links won’t work and if you'd like some Ellie recs

spicy ellie recs

• Fuck Me Yourself, Bitch by oh_stars_im_tired (ao3)

ᰔᩚ enemies to lovers - top!Abby, bottom!reader

↬ unresolved tension,, made me wish Abby was real UGH it’s so gut wrenchingly good (overall one of the best Abby x reader author on ao3!!)

↬ also slightly angsty but the smut makes it even

• Lead me from the dark by danicruel (ao3)

ᰔᩚ friends to lovers - top!Abby, bottom!reader

↬ after a blackout in the stadium the reader and Abby find themselves in reader‘s dorm

↬ so wholesome,, made me blush so hard

↬ girl in red references <3

↬ love the author since they include all types of readers in their fics + their writing style is *chefs kiss*

• sweet temptations by elsdolly

ᰔᩚ best friends to lovers - top!Abby, bottom!fem reader

↬ mourning turns into love aaaaaah

↬ Abby looses control and it's soo hot

surprise visit by atomicami

ᰔᩚ enemies to fuck buddies/lovers? - top!Abby, bottom!reader

↬ contractor/engineer Abby x reader as Joel's daughter 🫣

↬ both parts are soo good and the author has such a smooth writing style!! def recommend checking them out too

you-know-who by lucidfairies

ᰔᩚ (age gap) unresolved tension to finally banging lol - top!Abby, unexperienced bottom!reader

↬ reader's dad's business party and wet crush turns into reality aaaaah

↬ she's such a mommy in this one (i was thriving)

trash talk by graceheartspedro

ᰔᩚ enemies to fuck enemies (crying) - top! Abby, bottom! reader

↬ slight angsty undertone due to the angsty relationship but the hate sex *chefs kiss*

↬ part two healed my heart omg and Manny is such a mood 😦

nsfw alphabet w abby by catfern

↬ felt like an Abby dictionary and i loved every second of reading it

↬ author has such a relatable writing style!!

↬ if butter was a fanfic it would be this?? idk how to explain this hahahah

run. by publicenemy666

ᰔᩚ slasher!abby, fem! reader

↬ hear me out,, i normally dislike reading horror where spice is involved, but this was sooo interestingly plotted i couldn't stop reading it aaaaah

↬ all in all such a detailed writing style that it makes it so intriguing

and they were roommates by angelkissiies

ᰔᩚ roomates/friends to friends with benefits - top!Abby, bottom!reader

↬ my FAVOURITE trope and it hit all the spots

↬ the title made me giggle so much i instantly liked the author 😭

come over by ourautmn86

ᰔᩚ enemies to fuck buddies? - top!Abby, bottom!fem reader

↬ Y'ALL this is embarrassing but i was at point in my cycle where not only my 🐱 was shacking but my WALLET too bc this fic made me impulsively order a dildo?? 😭 i wish i was kidding but you count that as a sign that it's a very good fanfic hahaha

↬ love the author's writing style and the way the plot just smoothly evolves in their fits!!

thanks for reading &lt;3

[phoneuserhana333]

ellie and abby ending up with their polar opposites in any modern au is my RELIGION!

NSFW UNDER THE CUT! not proofread, basically just word vomit while i write neighbor!abby part 3 :>

ellie ending up with a prim and proper, short skirt and turtleneck combo, peachy-pink makeup softie who puts her in her place when needed. cool-headed when ellie gets in one of her moods, always ready to hold the brunette’s head against her chest as she cries. a girlfriend that looks like she’s made of sugar, spice and everything nice. a girlfriend that tastes like sugar, spice and everything nice. someone who ellie can both choke during sweaty, rough sex and kiss the morning after, as they bask in the warm sunlight under her girlfriend’s pink and white striped duvet. a gentle, innocent soul that hasn’t been corrupted by the world, someone ellie can hide away in her heart forever. a girlfriend who’ll bake her cookies and also let ellie raise her pastel apron to hungrily eat her out on the counter, while they wait for the timer to go off. ellie will appreciate the domestic nature, so much so that she’ll daydream about buying that breeding strap already and making your hers for good.

and don’t you dare tell her that she can’t have ten kids with you. she’ll cry.

abby, on the other hand, ends up with the artsy type; someone weird, a writer perhaps? or a painter? some poor, tortured soul that has seen it all, but when they lay their eyes on anderson, everything disappears. abby becomes her girlfriend’s muse, the subject of dramatic love confession in the rain, something from a movie it seems. someone who will drag her to hidden theaters to watch some old film from the 70s and kiss in the dark like two teenagers. she needs someone who’ll make her blush, until she switches back to her dominant side and decides to be the artist this time; abby will leave watercolor brusies on her girlfriend’s body, her fingers gripping plush hips as she grinds their cunts together. abby will finger her girlfriend into overstimulation, the tips of her fingers brushing against a spongy spot inside her, a thumb on her puffy clit and her mouth on her tummy. the blonde will become a poet; singing you praises into the night, something between “my pretty, pretty girl” and “beg me to let you come, brat”, until all she can see is shaky legs, teary eyes and an arched back.

in that moment, abby swears you’ve become her muse.

[atinylittlepain]

Love your writing! I love the Unexpected universe, could I please request a really angsty Joel story where baby Miller gets sick nothing extreme, just a colicky baby but because of what happened to Sarah it just brings all of Joel’s fear to the surface? Please add some fluff spice with reader trying to comfort him and cute baby and dad moments?

aw man, i got a bit carried away with this one, i hope you like it <3

Unmet Expectations

dad!joel miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

When baby miller gets sick, Joel gets stuck in the past, leaving her feeling lonelier than ever before.

warnings | 18+ angst, hurt/comfort, grief, sick baby oof, smut at the end

a/n | this one is long, and rather emotionally charged, but with a happy ending of course for our Unexpected Expectings fam :)

....................................

There isn’t much sleeping going on in the Miller household. Except for Ellie, who has the good fortune to be out in the garage, away from the seemingly endless crying. It started a little over a month ago. She had settled Libby down for her afternoon nap, only to be promptly startled by her girl’s shrieking wail, a sound she would become all too familiar with as time progressed and it became clear that they have one very colicky baby on their hands. 

At first, she thought it was just her girl having a bad case of gas, but after a few hours of useless burping and rocking, she started to understand this was something else entirely. Joel came home that night from the stables to find her sitting on the floor of the nursery, tears in her eyes and Libby still screaming in her arms. She wasn’t sure what was worse in that moment, the sound of her girl’s continuous cries, or the look of sheer terror on Joel’s face as he knelt down next to her. He had run across town right then and there to get Suze, who could only advise them to keep their girl comfortable and fed with the reassurance that this sort of thing typically only lasts a month or two. 

It’s been the longest month of her life. Libby is nothing if not consistent, quiet and sweet as a lamb in the mornings, but around one o’clock every day, the crying starts, and it doesn’t stop until late into the night. Ellie has been a saint, and Maria too. Staying with her in the afternoons, keeping her sane as she tries to calm Libby down. Joel, however, is a different story. Since all this started, he’s become silent, unreadable. Much like how he was when they first met.

He takes Libby at night, giving her something of a break when he wordlessly takes her off her hands. She finds him most mornings asleep on the floor of the nursery, pressed right up against the crib, one of his arms usually hung between the wooden slats, keeping contact with their girl who always manages to wear herself off into sleep. It’s the only indication she gets from him of just how much he cares because otherwise, he’s become completely shut off, and it’s starting to freak her out more than Libby’s incessant crying.

They don’t talk anymore. He leaves early for shifts, and when he comes home, usually after dusk, he takes Libby and holes away in the nursery. She had tried to join him a number of times, but the steely look he always gave her kept her hovering at a distance, usually dozing in and out of sleep sitting in the hallway right outside the room. She can hear him in the night, the low thrum of his singing just barely detectable below Libby’s cries, and it breaks her heart that he won’t let anyone else see that part of him, especially not her. She’s grateful for how he takes over with Libby, but it feels like it’s no longer them, no longer a team. She’s surrounded by people who care, but it seems like the one person who matters most is slipping away, and she’s never felt more lonely in her life.

“I’m uh, picking up patrol today with Tommy. Might not be home till later.” Her hands still where she had been scrubbing one of Libby’s bottles in the sink. It’s the most he’s said to her in weeks. She turns around to look at him, his gaze wandering anywhere but to hers.

“I thought you weren’t doing patrol shifts anymore.” 

“They’re down a man today. Just a one time thing.” There’s a lot more she’d like to say, but she can’t get any of it out, not when it feels like she’s talking to a complete stranger. So instead, she just nods, turning back to the sink before the tightness in her throat can spill over into tears. She hears him let out a long sigh behind her.

“I’ll um, see you tonight then.” She sniffs, only answering him with a jerky nod. The sound of his boots thudding away, the open and close of the front door, is a relief that she feels guilty for.

…

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stick around? It’s no sweat, really. Dina will understand.” She offers Ellie what she can of a smile, easier said than done with her other girl screeching directly in her ear as she rocks her back and forth.

“That’s alright, Ellie bean. You’ve been a huge help already this afternoon, but Joel should be back soon. You should go, have fun.” By the furrowed look on her face, Ellie doesn’t seem to buy that, but she nods.

“Um, ok. Well, you know where to find me– i-if you need me or anything.” She nods and Ellie turns to leave, but seems to think twice of it before turning back to her.

“Are you guys– are you guys ok? You and Joel?” Her heart drops at the question, but luckily Libby chooses that exact moment to raise her screaming to a new decibel, effectively distracting the both of them enough for Ellie to offer her one more anxious smile before heading out. 

She sighs with the close of the front door, continuing to try to soothe Libby as she walks upstairs to the nursery. 

“I know, Libs. Tell me about it, huh?” She sits down in the rocking chair, shifting her squirming girl to cradle her in her lap. When she glances at the clock, she realizes it’s at least an hour past when Joel should have been home. She feels terrible that she doesn’t feel much at the realization, too sleep deprived, too frustrated, too utterly hopeless to muster up much more than faint concern as Libby continues to wail. 

She sits like that for a few hours, through Libby’s ceaseless cries, the relentless noise lulling her into a sort of daze. And then, a miracle. For the first time in a month and a half, Libby stops crying before midnight. Her girl lets out a few sleepy coos before dozing off in her arms, and she has to stop herself from laughing in pure relief as she lays her down in her crib. Stepping out into the hall, she slumps back against the wall, but her peace is short-lived when she realizes that Joel still isn’t home and it’s now much later. 

It’s the final straw that finally sends her reeling as she crumples over, her hands on her thighs as she starts to heave in a silent sob. It feels like she can’t get any air in, taking quick gasping breaths that she tries to stifle, not wanting to make any sound and wake her girl up. Her mind is blaring a shrill alarm of two words, over and over again. He’s gone. Under any other circumstances, she might be able to rationalize, to not jump to the worst conclusion. But she’s running on fumes, and her mind can’t shake the thought that she may have lost him tonight. And then she starts to think about that morning, how she hadn’t even said goodbye, and it sends her down to her knees, collapsing over herself in a silent wail. 

She’s completely caught off guard when a warm palm comes to her back, jerking away from the touch and pressing back against the wall.

“Hey, hey. It’s me– it’s just me.” He kneels down in front of her, palms cupping her cheeks as he tries to coax her to look at him, but she’s still inconsolable, a sobbing mess. His face falls when she won’t calm down.

“What’s wrong? Is it– please don’t tell me it’s Libby.” The frantic edge to his voice cuts through the fog enough for her to shake her head.

“No– she– she’s fine– she’s sleeping. I thought– I thought you were gone– I thought I lost y-y-you.” She’s a shuddering mess of words, breaking down in another silent sob before she can say anymore. Joel’s hands slide down to squeeze hers, dipping his head down to catch her watery gaze.

“I’m not gone– we just had some trouble with one of the horses, alright? Just got back a little late. I’m right here.” She’s with it enough to let out a bitter laugh at his choice of words, her sobs finally dying down into breathy shudders.

“No you’re not.” His face crumples in confusion as he sits back on his haunches.

“What?” She sighs, scrubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand.

“You might be here physically. But I have no fucking clue where you’ve been in your head ever since– ever since Libby got sick.” As she says it, she finally starts to connect the dots. Joel has been acting the same way he acted when she told him she was pregnant, when he tried to get Tommy to take Ellie to Salt Lake City, when she got shot back in Boston. Joel’s been acting the way he acts when he’s scared.

Part of her wants to comfort him, to tell him that she knows, that she gets it. But the other part of her is too far gone in the flood of frustration for that, and instead she lets that righteous anger wash over her.

“I told you that I couldn’t do this without you, that we would do this together. We’re not in this together anymore, Joel. You don’t talk to me anymore, and lord knows you haven’t touched me in at least a month. Am I that repulsive to you? The fucking mother of your child?” His eyes are wide, jaw slack at her words.

“That ain’t what this is about.” She scoffs.

“No, I know what this is about. But, jesus christ, Joel, you aren’t the only one who’s scared right now. We’re supposed to be there for each other, that’s what partners do. They do it scared, together. But you won’t let me in, and you clearly want nothing to do with me.” 

“That’s not– I don’t– it’s–” He stops his own stumbling, letting out a ragged sigh. She just shakes her head.

Before either of them can say anything else, a cry resounds from the nursery. But it’s not like the shrieks they’ve grown accustomed to. This cry is quieter, more needy than distressed. She gets up with a sigh, not looking at Joel as she walks back toward the nursery. Joel is right on her heels.

“Let me, I’ve got her.” She whips around on her heel at his words, holding her palm up between them as she tries to steel her expression.

“Don’t.”

He doesn’t.

…

She wakes up the next morning in a crunched tangle on the twin bed in Libby’s room, her girl still sleeping like an angel in her crib. After a diaper change last night, Libby had again stopped crying, another hopeful sign that the colic is finally lifting.  She doesn’t have much room to celebrate it with the way the fight she and Joel had last night is occupying her mind. Though she supposes it wasn’t really a fight, more just her falling apart on him. A cool guilt creeps up her spine. She shouldn’t have lashed out at him like that, but she knows she couldn’t hold it in any longer either.

Libby still asleep, she slips into their bedroom, an awful relief that Joel is nowhere to be seen. She’s not ready to face him yet. 

She gets cleaned up, just barely dressed when she starts hearing fussy coos coming from across the hall. Morning light slides syrupy and gold across the nursery floor as she picks Libby up from her crib. This happens like clockwork, and it’s her favorite part of every morning, sitting down in the rocking chair, Libby’s tiny palm pressing against her sternum as she latches on for her breakfast. Even right now, with her mind swirling in worry, watching the contented flutter of her girl’s eyes as she suckles is enough to soothe her.

He clears his throat, and she glances up just briefly to see him standing in the doorway. 

“I think we might finally be done with the colic.” As she speaks, she keeps her eyes focused on Libby, her ears pricking to the shuffle of his bare feet as he comes closer into the room. He stays silent, but she can feel his eyes watching her as Libby turns her head away. She gets up with a sigh, still not looking at him as she bounces lightly side to side, rubbing her girl’s back after readjusting her shirt. 

“I can burp her if you want. Save you a shirt.” She finally looks at him as he speaks, worry clear in the crease between his brows. Part of her wants to be petty, to tell him that she’s got it and shut him out. But she also knows that this is him trying, so she gives him a small nod, gently passing Libby off to him. He’s been good with her from the start, and now is no different as he holds her to his chest, shushing her fussy whimpers as he lightly pats her back. She can’t help but smile at the sight, leaning up against the crib as she finally holds his gaze.

“Made coffee, if you want some. Pot’s probably still warm.” That’s a peace offering if she ever heard one. She hums, nodding noncommittally in response. It’s clear that Joel has something else to say.

“Could we– could we talk?” He sounds so unsure of the question, his brow all twisted up. She’s already thawing, offering him a smile and a nod.

“That one will conk right out when you’re done burping her. Let’s talk after you get her down, alright?” He sets his mouth in a thin line, his eyes still soft as he nods. She passes by him with a sigh, her palm resting for a moment on his bicep as she presses a kiss to Libby’s crown before slipping out of the room. She really needs that cup of coffee.

Spring is finally thawing out the winter freeze, and it’s just sunny enough to sit on the back porch with a warm mug and a sweater. It isn’t long before he joins her. She notes the way he keeps a sizable distance between them on the bench seat.

“Sarah was colicky too, y’know.” She hadn’t been expecting that, turning to look at him. He’s leaning forward, his elbows resting on his thighs as he cranes his neck back to meet her gaze.

“Was she?” He nods, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Scared the living shit out of me. Her mom– well, she wasn’t much help. Pfft, pretty sure I cussed out the doctor when he told me I just had to wait for it to pass– wait for Sarah to get better.” He studies his hands, fingers flexing as he continues.

“She cried and cried– just like Libby. I stayed up with her every night and just about lost my mind. Knowing she– my baby, my girl– was in so much pain and there was nothing I could do. It was torture.” She brings a tentative palm to his shoulder, feeling him slacken under her touch as he finally looks at her again.

“I’m sorry, darlin. I got stuck in the past and left you here to deal with the present.” She sets her mug down before scooting closer to him to sling her arm over his shoulders, feeling relief when he lets her tangle her other hand with his.

“I accept your apology. I just wish you would’ve talked to me. I know you don’t think I can understand– and I probably can’t, at least not entirely. But I can’t even try to if you don’t let me in.” She rests her chin on his shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of his sigh.

“I know you’re right– I do. It’s just so fucking hard. I just– I’ve gotten real good at running away from it– just shutting it down. Talking like this feels damn near impossible.” She leans back, coaxing him to look at her.

“We knew this wasn’t gonna be easy. And we said we’d get through this together. Joel, you can’t shut down like that– you just can’t. I– we need you too much.” He swallows hard, nodding at her words, and she can’t help but brush his wavy hair out of his face, resting her palm on his cheek afterward.

“You talk to me, huh? And I’m gonna try so hard to understand. I promise.” She stamps her words with a kiss, pressing her forehead against his as they both let out a sigh. 

“Gonna do better by you, darlin. Not gonna disappear on you again.” 

…

“It’s magic, right? It’s gotta be magic.” Joel quietly laughs at her whispers, both of them looking down at their girl who is fast asleep in the settling night time by some sort of miracle. Libby had done so much better the rest of the day. No more relentless shrieking or fussy squirming. It was like a switch had been flipped, and she and Joel are just hoping it stays that way. 

He places his palm between her shoulder blades, head tilting toward the doorway. She gets the hint, both of them quietly padding out of the nursery and across the hall to their own bedroom.

“Are we actually gonna get to sleep in our own bed tonight?” He smiles at that, lifting his hand to brush his fingers along her cheek. He’s being careful, she can tell. All day he’s been quiet, but close, taking the day off of shifts to stick by her side. She knows that this is his way of apologizing, his way of trying, and she’s grateful for it.

Whether or not they’re showering together has become a sort of litmus test to determine how their relationship is doing. They haven’t done this in a month, and she only realizes how much she missed it, missed him, when she finally gets her hands on him again, running her soaped-up palms along the broad expanse of his back as he faces away from her under the warm stream of water. She smiles at the groan he lets out when she presses her fingers into that spot between his shoulder blades that’s always knotted up, working the kink out before slipping her palms further down. A breathy chuckle thrums in his chest when she slides her palms down the strong curve of his ass, stepping in closer to wrap her arms around him and trail her hands up the soft muscle of his stomach.

“What’re you doing back there, mama?” She can hear the smile in his voice, and revels in the shudder that runs through him when she presses a kiss to the nape of his neck.

“Taking care of you. You gonna let me?” She feels the huff he lets out in the rise and fall of his shoulders, quick to turn in her hold and steal one, two, three kisses before she can press on his chest to get him to let up. His hands fall to her waist, squeezing at the swell and pulling her into him, chest to chest. His cock rests hot and solid against her thigh.

“We take care of each other, huh?” His words bloom warm in her chest and the smile she offers him is the biggest relief. He reaches behind her to grab the bar of soap, lathering up his hands. It’s a strange contrast, the roughness of his palms and the tenderness of the press of his skin against hers as he trails over every inch of her body he can reach. She gets both, and she knows it’s a gift.

His touch begins to linger and stutter, squeezes left to his favorite parts of her, his grin growing smugger with each shudder he coaxes out of her. 

“We’re wasting water. Maria’s gonna kill us.” He groans low at that, laying a harsh squeeze to her ass that she yelps at.

“That is the last thing I wanna think about right now.” She breathes out a laugh as he corners her against the tiled wall. She barely manages to flip off the water as he presses against her, licking hotly into her mouth. With a light tug to his damp waves, he pulls away, both of them panting in the humid bathroom air.

“Can we at least get dried off? The last thing I want is one of us slipping and cracking our skull open.” Joel grumbles at that, shaking his head as he steps in closer. However, with the step he takes, his back heel slips out causing him to stumble into her as they both struggle to stay upright. They’re a tangle of limbs as they find their footing, her arms wrapped over his shoulders and his around her waist. Looking at each other, all they can do is laugh.

“Would it kill you to tell me I’m right every now and again?” She teases him, a crooked grin as she stays wrapped up in his arms.

“You’re right– you’re right– you’re right. There, will that do, darlin?” He punctuates each repetition with a chaste kiss to her lips, leaving her laughing as he jostles her in his hold. She hums lightly.

“Hmm, I suppose. For now.” He huffs at that, retaliating with a hard smack to the curve of her ass that has her jolting in his grip, causing them both to stumble about in the shower again. They’re fools for each other, only for each other.

Drying off is made all but impossible by the way they stay glued to each other, and their skin is still damp when they finally make it to their bed, toppling into the sheets still tangled up in kisses and sighs and wandering hands. Joel coaxes her onto her back, settling between her legs as he trails a hand down to her cunt, dragging a brazen swipe through her heat that has her arching up into her touch.

“Joel, please– no teasing tonight. I just– I need you, baby.” He shushes her with a kiss, fingers languidly circling her clit.

“You’ve got me, darlin– not going anywhere, huh? Gonna give you what you need.” She has to bite back a whine at the loss of his touch, but it’s only a fleeting desperation as he presses the throbbing tip of his cock up against her entrance. Though it’s been a while, they move well together like they always do, bodies in complete communion as she draws her leg up along his waist, opening up to him as he presses his hips forward. He stills with his hips hilted into hers, his forehead pressing into her sternum with a ragged sigh. 

“Fucking hell– missed you so bad, mama– s’not fair how good you feel– not gonna last like this–” His voice is hoarse, broken by sweet agony, and she tries to soothe him with a smattering of kisses to his hairline, drawing him to look up at her.

“It’s ok, baby. Just wanna feel you– feel so perfect, Joel. Can you move for me?” She presses a kiss to the crease between his brows and he chases after her lips, groaning into a deep kiss as he rolls his hips back only to snap them forward again. He swallows the gasp she lets out at the deep grind of him, her nails digging into his shoulders as he guides them into that familiar push and pull. 

In just the few months of having their girl, they’ve learned how to keep quiet, all breathy sighs and muffled kisses, but she’s having a hard time holding back her high-pitched whimpers at the way he’s thrusting into her, punctuating each snap of his hips with a hard grind that strokes a spot inside her that’s already tilting her over the edge of pleasure. But it starts to become too much when Joel brings his fingers back to her clit, drawing stuttering swipes that have her spasming around him.

“C’mon, mama– let go for me– want it so bad– that’s it, darlin–” his praises become muffled noise as she comes, her heels now digging into his ass where her legs are wrapped around him, clutching him as he fucks her through the rolling high. Joel is quick to follow, pulling out of her with a harsh groan and sloppily stroking himself a few times before his warmth is smearing across the plush of her thigh. It's a far cry from the heated trysts they used to engage in, hours on end of tangled passion long traded in for these little bursts of love that she cherishes just as much, if not more.

He collapses next to her, slumping on his back, his arm crossed over himself to keep his palm splayed over her stomach. She rests her hand on top of his, tangling their fingers together as they both catch their breath. But, there isn’t much time to revel in the moment when soft cries start to carry from across the hall. She can’t help but smile as she looks at him, and he lets out a sigh.

“Go get cleaned up, mama. I’ve got her.” He punctuates his words with a kiss, leaning over and brushing his fingers along her cheek. They share a quietly murmured “love you,” and she idly watches him get up, the soft pull of his muscles as he slips on a t-shirt and a pair of boxers before padding across the hall to Libby’s room.

They don’t get to sleep in their own bed that night. After getting cleaned up, she trails into the nursery, finding Joel quietly singing to their girl in the rocking chair. He glances up at her, but keeps singing, his voice low and sweet, lulling Libby back to sleep in his arms. With their girl tucked back in her crib, they wind up in a close tangle on the twin bed.

It's the best sleep they've gotten in a month.

[crowandmousewritingco]

If You're Reading This

Pairing: Joel Miller x nb!reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Rating: PG-13, there's no spice. It's all angst bay-beeeeeee

Summary: You met Joel while out on a 'hunting run', you startle him and in return he almost shoots you. After everything settles the two of you get to talking and decide to stay in contact one of the only ways, via letters. Over the time writing each other, you grow feelings for him, and learn things about yourself that you don't know how he'll handle. Telling him, he goes silent, but you refuse to give up hope. Will your hope be enough to keep you going?

Author: Mod Crow (Got a new job so life has been ahhhhh)

Author's Note: The reader says their age. This was for @burntheedges' Roll-A-Trope! I was very back and forth on how I wanted this to play out, in the end I'm pretty happy with it.

Masterlist

Warnings: Language, mentions of suicide, and mentions of raiders and guns.

Dear Joel,

Thanks for not shooting me today, I wasn’t even in my best attire to die. I’m kidding. Not about the not shooting me thing. 

It was nice really meeting someone who didn’t want to kill me or rob me. It was also nice having the help dragging a deer all the way back to this place. I only hope my butchering and fileting skills aren’t getting rusty. But hey, if they are, you said something about you showing me “the way it’s done in the big beauty of Texas” or however you worded it. I know you aren’t here, but I need you to know that I’m currently laughing. I made myself laugh. Gods, I’m losing it aren’t I?

 Anyways, I should probably start cooking myself something to eat before the sun goes down. If you ever head this way and stop at this place, you should leave me a little letter or something. Obviously, I left this one for you in an obvious spot -and that’s what you should do as well- then after that we can start putting them in more well-hidden places, we can’t have someone finding them before we have a chance to. But that’s for the next letter.

-Y.F.

P.S. Y.F. means your favorite, I know what I am, you don’t have to tell me.

Hey Smartass,

Now that I like the sound of. Oh, and drop the formality, I’m not your pen pal or some shit like that. Ellie wanted me to tell you that “if you try to replace her as my favorite, she will stab you”. I don’t pick favorites. Just so you know. I haven’t had a favorite person in a while now…

God let’s stop talking about the sad shit anymore. I saw a baby squirrel on the porch as I was walking up. I thought maybe he had lost his mama or daddy; I’m thinking that’s what he also thought because when one of his -what I can only assume- parents came back they had scared that poor little thing so bad that he damn near jumped three feet high. I was kind of wishing you could have seen it, I remember you telling me how much you loved nature and all that stuff. Don’t read into that.

Anyways, I don’t know what it’s like heading up from the southwest, but Ellie and I ran into more raiders than we normally do. I don’t know why there’s more, but I’m not liking how things are looking.  

I left you some ammo and rations hidden in the fireplace. Ellie left you something, she wouldn’t tell me, besides that it was hidden in the bathroom. That’s all she told me, so I’m guessing that means good luck. 

-Joel 

I’m not calling you my favorite, I don’t have a favorite between you two nuisances 

Dear party-pooper,

Yes, that’s what I’m calling you from now on, you fucking party-pooper. ANYWAYS, I found your stash, thanks. The ammo was a life saver…literally…the rations could have at least been a good one. You left me some beef jerky (the only good thing in that damn ration), some stale ass cracker, and some unidentifiable fruit-like substance. 

The raiders though, they’ve actually been better. Based on my guess, I think they might have migrated up your way. If you think it’s getting too bad for a bit, I get that, don’t feel pressured to write me back whenever you’re here next. 

On a lighter note, Ellie hid a book that she’d think I’d like. So far, her shot in the dark has struck bull’s-eye. Tell her I said thank you. As for where she hid it -you’re gonna love this- she pulled the medicine cabinet off the upstairs bathroom’s wall, knocked out a small bit of drywall, and hid it in the wall before replacing the cabinet. It took me far longer than it should have, but who the fuck would look behind the cabinet on the wall? The cabinet, mind you, looked like it had never been pulled off the wall. Fuck, I really gotta give her credit for how creative she is with hiding places. You should take notes. Your hiding spots in the past have been…kinda in plain sight. Love you old man, but you suck at hiding. Expect, I give you credit to this last drop, up the chimney fluke. Maybe you still have it in you after all, old man.

Anyways…I left some things for you in the door of the fridge. It’s not much this time, things have been rough at this place. We let in this new couple, and they’ve been super suspicious. The first night they were here, the woman -Gabrielle- was found snooping around in the owner of the farm’s wife’s dresser. Gabrielle couldn’t give us a straight answer as to why she was snooping. That wasn’t even the weirdest bit, that same night the man -Kenneth- was snooping around in ALL of our shit. I woke up at gods only know, probably 3 or 4 in the morning. I didn’t think he got any of shit. I didn’t look though, and that’s on me. He got away with most of the things I was going to give you, what he didn’t take is hidden for you. I left Ellie some magazines I found about alternative bands from before the pandemic. I don’t even know if she knows what alternative music is, gods you probably don’t know what alternative music is. I’ll explain that to you in person one of these days. 

-Your favorite nuisance 

You fucking child, 

You and Ellie act like the exact same person sometimes I swear. Sometimes I feel like it’s just Ellie leaving me these notes. 

Forget all that, you said that the ammo I stashed for you came in handy? What happened? Are you okay? Were you injured? What happened to the other guy? That’s something I would have paid to see. If half of what the shit you’ve said in the past were true, then you’re a pretty good aim. 

What you left me enough, the granola was honestly a god sent. You have no idea how boring coffee was getting. Ellie also said -and I quote- “Hell yeah these bitches look sick.” I have no idea where she’s heard that, because it sure as hell wasn’t me. 

Backtracking -kind of- I know we’ve talked raiders, how have those fucking clickers been? I think because of that “migration” or whatever the hell you called it, they’ve been out there killing those fuckers while they snuck through the shadows. Our raider problem went up, but the clicker problem. It’s been too quiet recently. But following that thought, your raider problem went down, so that means your clicker problem got worse. Didn’t it? Fuck… You’re a pain in my ass, but I like this banter I get to have. You should come with Ellie and I back to our little place. It isn’t much, but Ellie’s been complaining that where we are isn’t “comfortable”. I swear she says what she says just to test my patience. But, yeah, Ellie would love it. She’d never shut up and it wouldn’t be me for once. Just give us the when and we’ll meet you here.

-Joel M.

Hey grumpy,

I think I like this nickname the best so far. I do swear one thing to you grumps, I am 100% NOT Ellie. I’m your…something. I’ve been kinda held up in my room at the farm this past week. I’ve been thinking about some things after the raiders. That’s not something I lied about; I am a pretty good shot. So was the leader of the little gang. He was 100% aiming for my head, I’m only alive because I got lucky. He drew his gun quicker than I did, he aimed quicker than I could, and he pulled that fucking trigger before I could…His gun jammed. It took me a minute to even register that I was still alive. When I realized though, gods, was I ready. Almost dying makes you really think about how you want to be remembered by people. 

I don’t even know if what I’m thinking would make sense to you. Ellie might, but all she’s ever known is…well whatever it is she grew up knowing. These are things that I haven’t thought about since…fuck, well before the outbreak. Bare with me as I try to figure out to explain this in writing that isn’t going to be a fucking novel. 

Actually, before I do that, I want to get this out there first. if you aren’t sure you want to be a part of this emotional blah, I got lucky. Ken left his bag open in Gabrielle’s room right next to her bag in her room! What’s even better? Neither of them were anywhere near the bags, Gabrielle was helping with dinner and Ken was helping with fence repair. I left you just under half of the ammo they had -hey, gotta keep myself safe- and Ken’s utility hatchet like thing (you’ll see what I mean). I also snatched you some more granola. I have no idea how this old couple is doing it, but they have so many oats. They also have a fucking bee house! You know what that means? Fresh honey! And just for you grumps, I snatched a mason jar for the two of you. Honey’s also good for a sore throat. I know it’s getting cold out there. I’ve actually been knitting (I know, I must be lying about my age. I’m not, I swear. I learned how to knit because of my grandma. When I was probably six or seven, I made a huge deal out of wanting to learn to do what my grandma was doing. So, she taught me. After the outbreak, I needed something to do with my hands, otherwise things…things would be incredibly different right now. Gods, sorry about the ramble.) some scarves for the two of you. You have no idea how much yarn got left behind in the stores. If after you read this, you decide you still want me to go with you I will. We can do it the weekend after next. Next week is my birthday and Marieann and George (the old couple of the farm) told me that it was “my day to relax and rest up after the hard year.” Who am I to go against what a sweet old lady tells me to do? That being said, I don’t like not knowing what’s going on and how the two of you are doing. At this point, what’s even the point of keeping track of birthdays anymore? Like, “Yay I lived another horrid year on this dying hunk of space rock, can’t wait to suffer through another one! Anyways, I'm sneaking out past curfew to leave you a note if the plan has changed. Anywho…I found more magazines for Ellie. I’ve hid them in the pantry. She’s smart. Your is hidden in the basement behind that dresser, it’s the same idea as what the kid did in the upstairs bathroom cabinet.

Back to the emotional blah…If anything I write doesn’t make sense, you can try asking Ellie. She may know. Gods, I thought it would be easier to write this out, not having to see your weathered (ignore that) expression change. To what? I don’t know. Anything? Fuck it…Joel when we meet, I thought I had figured myself out. When I met you, I was sure I was a woman. I don’t think that I am…I’m not a man either though. I’m neither? I don’t know how to explain this. Okay, so I was she/her when we met, you were -and still are- he/him. Well, if I’m neither of them I have to have a way to refer to myself, right? I do, instead of she or he, I’m…them. Or they! Well, it’s more like both, they/them. Gods I’m shaking so bad right now haha, I’m just really scared of losing you two…You two have been the first good thing since this shitstorm started. I know I can’t make you write me back, but I can ask you to at least leave me something saying you’ll either come back and write a new note or some kind of…I don’t know sign? That doesn’t feel like the right word, but note isn’t the word I want to use…I don’t know Joel, just please leave something. I don’t care how long it takes; I’ll keep coming back till I get another note from you. Even if that means I die doing this because you chose to leave, and I wouldn’t hate you for it. 

That’s all I’ve to say. I really do…like you Joel, when thinking, remember I am the person from all of those letters and the few times we met.

-Your Raven no    Magpie also no Crow now that’s one I like

Joel, 

Hey, I came back this weekend, I’m 26 now! Yay! I’m not going to lie; I’m terrified right now. The clickers are getting worse around the farm, they aren’t too bad on the way here yet, but I know they will be.

I checked to see if you took the stuff, and you did. I saw that Ellie left me a comic book and a band shirt from one of those mags I gave her. I can’t believe she was able to find one, let alone one in my size. I also saw that you left me some ammo and another ration. I know it isn’t much, but it’s something. It gives me hope, and that’s all most of us have nowadays. Along with that hope, I also hope that you'll come back again. If that’s the case, I’ve left you both some things, same places as last. 

Joel, for you, more granola (enough for the both of you), a scarf for you, some peach preserves (Marieann opened up some preserves she had made to be opened about this time), and some bread I baked. I warn the bread isn’t pretty, but with the chill, it should last a bit longer.

For Ellie, her scarf, a couple of mangas I found (this will be fun to hear how that goes), a Swiss army knife I found on a dead raider (I know it’s gruesome, but it’s the world we live in now), and a slightly used deck of cards. I felt like she could find a way to entertain herself why you do whatever it is you do when you want to be alone.

-Your hope filled Crow

Hey again,

You took the things again, and you left some more for me. It’s still something. No matter how little. It just hit me, these letters are going to be getting shorter and shorter until I hear from you huh?

Should I even keep writing to you? Maybe don’t answer that. Or do. You take all the time you need. I’m leaving you guys some more things, the same place as before.

-Your Crow

Hey, 

I’m sorry about how long it took, I’ll be honest, I didn’t understand at all, and it freaked me out a bit. I asked Ellie if she they understood it and they did. They also came to realize that about themselves too. No, I don't fully understand it, but I’m willing to learn.

Thanks for the scarves, they’ve really helped with the chill at night. Ellie was so intrigued by that one that I’m guessing was the manga. I have no idea if they figured it out, but they’re having a blast trying. 

The clickers have been a bit more active around us too. I wonder where they’re all coming from though. 

Ellie and I are ready to head out, just tell us when. We’ve gathered all we could, the rest of the stuff we’re leaving is replaceable. Thanks to your scarf we’ve managed to carry a bit more stuff, not the way you meant for them to be used but they’re multifaceted. 

I don’t know if Ellie has anything to leave, but I’m assuming it’s in the bathroom. I don’t have much to leave, I found some yarn. I just happened upon it when looting some cars on the main road. I also found a broken bow. I don’t know if you can fix it, but maybe that old man, George(?) could fix it, or maybe someone else in the house. They’re in the basement, it’s the only place they’d fit. 

I want to help you keep that hope alive. I have one of my own, I hope we can get somewhere warm and safe together.

Joel, with…

Holy fuck,

Joel, you came back?! Thank you fuck…thank you. If you could see me, I am a mess right now. Gods you’d get a kick. 

I wasn’t able to fix the bow, but George was! I guess he used to bow hunt back in the day. He said it may take him a bit; he has to dig out his tools. I’ll leave a letter the night before with an update. If you find a letter then there’s kink in the plans, if you don’t find a letter then it’s because I was there waiting, or I died. Or some other third thing, I like being dramatic sometimes. 

With this plan may be happening, I’m not leaving much. This time it’s a kindle of firewood. Dry firewood hidden in the sugar in a mason jar. I remember you saying you drank coffee, and you were growing tired of the taste. So have some sugar, make it sweeter. Maybe add honey too. 

-Your Crow

Dear Joel,

I know you hate the formality of these kinds of letters, but for once, just let it be. See the thing is I’m writing this as a “worst case scenario” kinda thing… I started writing about an hour ago for me, gods only know how long it’s been for you. To put in perspective the time difference, I’m writing this the same day I read your letter you had left, the letter about the plans about me coming with the two of you to find somewhere else. 

I don’t know what has happened to me to force my hand in leaving this letter, but if I had to take a shot in the dark, I’ve probably been shot by other survivors. I’ve been bitten. If I remember, I’ll try to come back and write what really happened. Anyways, I know we had a plan, I also know that you’re a strong man. You don’t need me; I would have just slowed you down. So now you have to promise me you’ll keep that kid safe. Oh, and if you happen to find yourself in Omaha -I know we’re several hundred miles away, but you never know- stop by 1004 Cicada drive. It’s where I was living when all of the shit hit the fan. Now, I won’t be there to give you the tour, so you better not go tracking mud or anything inside. 

Look, there are some things in that house that I think could be beneficial to you, I know you’ll find what you need. I have some things out in the garage, there’s some other things in the attic, and then there’s some things down in the basement’s crawl space. Now, it’s going to be dusty and dirty down there, but back before all of this, it was a beautiful basement. I had just finished painting it that beautiful blue color that has since been destroyed by some fucking raiders. Fuck, look at me gushing over my old basement. I must really sound like some weird fucker, huh? 

Anyways, if I’m dead and that’s why you’re reading this, I just wanted to tell you some things…Where do I even start? I guess I’ll start light, that’s what you do right? I don’t know why I keep asking questions, I don’t know your answers to them. Gods do I wish I did know your answers, writing this with the unknown has been killing me. If you could see me right now, you’d have a pretty good laugh, I’m shaking like the last fall leaf in a big dying tree in the middle of a tornado. Fuck, I’m rambling…Look I’m really happy we ran into each other when we did, that day you almost shot me in the forest -behind this decrepit house- I lied to you. You asked me why I was out there, I told you I was looking for some animals to catch. I wasn’t…I couldn’t take any more of this bullshit. So, I was gonna beat the zombies to my death, and I wasn’t giving them the satisfaction of bringing me back to be some brainless creature monster. I was going to paint a bit of the forest with gray matter. When you insisted on helping me because you also needed food, I was honestly kinda pissed. But now? Now I’m happy you stuck around. Joel, I don’t wanna make you feel any type of way but…You are the only reason I’m still here on this shithole of a planet. Also…you sticking around had affected me in ways I wasn’t expecting…Joel thanks to you Joel, spending all of that time with you, getting to actually know you, exchanging stories, all of that shit. All of that meant means far more than you could understand, and in that time, I grew to fell in love with you Joel. 

I should have told you in person not through a piece of paper. I know there isn’t much I can say now…. but I am sorry. I wish I could have told you in person, I really do, I wish I could have heard your lips say it back. I can only imagine how your raspy, yet honeysuckle sweet voice would say those three words “I. Love. You.” Gods the thought of it…

Anyways, if I keep going, I might accidently write you a book. For whatever reason it is that made me tell you where to find this, I’m happy I got to meet you when I did. Make sure to tell Ellie I said hi. You make sure you keep that girl safe or so Gods help you, Joel Miller. 

-Your Crow, with love

P.S. Joel I don’t know how much longer I have till I turn, but I just wanted to say before I die, I love you Joel, tell Ellie I love her too. I left you my remaining ammo and handgun. I left Ellie my lucky bullet casing -we both know she’ll love it- and my bracelet, the one with that little metal rabbit foot charm. You have no idea how excited I was to leave that lonely farm. I would finally be with people I cared about and who cared about me. Like who actually cared about me. 

I had a weird feeling that this is how things would go, so I planned. I know I’m leaving you my handgun and ammo. The handgun only has one bullet right now. You can fill it the rest of the way and leave, or you can do what I was too scared to do in the end…Kill me. Right now, I’m in the kitchen writing this. I don’t feel good, I feel like someone beat me with a lead pipe. My head is throbbing, and I can’t tell if I’m sweating because I’m hot with a fever, or if because of a cold chill. 

I thought I’d have a bit of time, you know, write you some more, pour my heart out on paper for you, but I don’t. It wasn’t a deep bite, but it was a bite, nonetheless. I tried to sneak past this clicker, I was doing so well until I lost my balance and stumbled, twisting my ankle. I didn’t try to fight it, I thought I’d have better luck running back here. I didn’t…  

I love you Joel, I really really ….

*Joel’s POV*

Your writing at the end was practically ineligible, trailed off almost. Joel wasn’t quite sure, what he was sure of, was the feeling of his heart break. An all too familiar break, one he hadn’t felt since Sarah’s mom…

Joel quickly and silently tore his path through the house, he was certain that you were playing some kind of sick cruel joke. 

“Joel. Joel! Come on man,” Joel could hear Ellie, but for some reason his legs wouldn’t stop. He had to prove Ellie wrong, that’s why. Yeah, that makes sense. “Joel, Jesus fucking Christ. STOP!” Hearing Ellie’s loud voice had pulled him to a halt. 

“Joel, I know you loved them man, I did too. I don’t know what hell-bent path you’re on, but you aren’t going to find them okay. I know,” Joel looked to Ellie, his unfocused eyes taking a moment. When his eyes finally focused, he could see it, he could see the tears that were pouring from Ellie’s face. That’s when he realized he too was crying. “I looked for them after I found their rabbit’s foot bracelet. I think they’re in the basement, the door is locked or jammed. I can’t get it open.” Joel swallowed the pained howls that wanted to rip through his tired body. Clearing his throat, Joel quickly wiped his face on his jacket sleeve. 

“You stay up here; I’ll get it figured out. No matter what, I don’t care if you're curious or something else, don’t under any circumstances come down there am I clear?” Joel clenched his jaw, he needed something to focus on something, so why not something he can do. 

Ellie never responded verbally, but Joel saw the stiff nod. Turning from Ellie Joel tried to make quick work of finding the things you left. It took him far less time than he expected. Joel also found a key; one he could only assume you left. It wasn’t particularly noteworthy or showy, but if he had to guess, it would unlock that basement door. Was that even something he wanted to do? Kill you? Or rather, kill the already dead you? 

Heading back to the dining room, Joel looked at the things he had found in the house. The one catching his attention first? Your handgun. The one with only one bullet loaded in it. Picking up the gun, Joel examined it in his hand, the handle was worn, faint groves noticeable to the touch. The metal on it had definitely seen better days, days when the metal was clean and before it was used in all of this shit. 

Swallowing the lump in his throat down, Joel took the key -along with the gun- to the basement door. Standing there, Joel simply stared at the handle. God only knows how long he stood there, but hearing Ellie walk into the dining room, pulled him back to the doorknob in hand. Gripping the gun tighter, Joel carefully put the key into the knob. Giving it a trying twist, Joel felt it resist for a second, before a soft ‘click’ could be heard. Gripping the knob, Joel twisted it slowly and carefully pulled the door open. There wasn’t a single sound coming from the basement, maybe you had found a way to do this. Something he was now dreading. Readying the gun, Joel carefully made his way down the stairs, trying to be as light as possible on his feet. 

Once his feet hit the basement floor, Joel clicked on his flashlight. The basement wasn’t huge by any means, but it did have a smaller room off the back wall. Walking towards the doorway, Joel practically held his breath to listen for the all too well known cl-

The sound of clicking slowly filling the air as he grew closer. The sound put him to a stop. Can he really do this? Yes, because you shouldn’t have to be one of them. Clenching his jaw Joel continued on. 

In the doorway, Joel could barely make out the shadow of you, or at least what used to be you. It was kind of hard to tell for certain where the bite was for certain, but it seemed as if it was your shoulder. As he stood there, Joel was silent, he wanted to remember what you were like, this wasn’t you and he knew that. You were gone by now, long gone and he knew that. Raising the gun, Joel closed his eyes for a moment. Opening his eyes, Joel cocked the handgun, the click of the hammer grabbing your attention. Staring at what used to be your face, Joel could feel the tears run down his face. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t quicker my Crow.” His last word punched through the silence, with the loud echo of a spent shell.

'''''''

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[thru-the-grapevine]

Something New (m)

Pairing: Cho Seungyoun x fem!reader

Summary: Sometimes your boyfriend asking you blunt questions pays off for you in the end.

Word Count: 3.3k

Tags/Warnings: mature content (minors dni), pwfwp (porn with feelings without plot), oral sex (fem. receiving), established relationship, they are simps for each other, inexperienced!reader

Author’s Note: if you’ve been around on this blog at all, you’ll know this isn’t the typical sort of thing I post. I have no excuse other than the man makes me absolutely insane and I decided to be self-indulgent. Please read at your own risk.

“Have you ever thought about letting me eat you out?”

You cough, nearly choking on your own tongue, and drop your phone against your boyfriend’s chest.

You lift your head from Seungyoun’s shoulder and look at him, incredulous. “What?”

Seungyoun glances at you, shooting you a brief little smile before continuing to scroll his phone.

“Letting me go down on you,” he clarifies, confirming you had somehow, in fact, heard him right after all.

You blink several times, brain mysteriously empty.

“I…uh,” you finally stammer.

You’ve been with Seungyoun long enough to know that he likes to be blunt and face things head-on, no beating around the bush. It does catch you by surprise, though, anytime it’s about something intimate.

The plain look on his face is indication enough that this question is par for the course with him. “Didn’t know if it was on the list of stuff you were interested in trying.”

He’s known since before you started seeing each other that you’re inexperienced, never having any real interest in sex until you met him. He’s taken this very well, been exceedingly patient and a perfect sweetheart with you. He always cheerfully answers your shy questions in a way that doesn’t embarrass you for being curious, and loves going along with your hesitant experimentation whenever you like.

You haven’t experimented far beyond heavy makeout sessions, beyond dry humping and hands under shirts, but where your timidity has stopped you in real life, your imagination has run rampant. So in all honesty, you have thought about Seungyoun eating you out. You’ve had no courage whatsoever to say anything about it, but the thought of his mouth on you has come to mind more and more often lately. Little daydreams of your hands in his hair, your thighs clamped around his head, of an unfamiliar pleasure that might possibly be better than your own fingers or shower head.

The way he’s smiling at you makes you pretty sure he knows what you’ve been thinking from your facial expressions.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you mumble, halfheartedly thumping your hand against his chest.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Seungyoun laughs. “I’m the one who asked.”

“Why did you?” You ask, watching him closely.

He shrugs a shoulder, turning his smile back to his phone. “Because I’ve been thinking about it.”

Oh. Something funny quivers in your stomach, heat like lava pooling low. He’s been thinking about it, too. Been thinking about spreading your legs and lowering his head to—

“You—I…” You try to start a thought several times, then realize you have none.

His smile only widens. He keeps scrolling his phone, looking cool as a cucumber, which isn’t fair.

“You have?” You finally finish weakly.

He looks up from his phone to meet your gaze.

“I have,” he says.

Your brain doesn’t know what to do with this information. “You….but….”

He tilts his head slightly. “But?”

“Why—” You cut off, squirming a little. “I…why would you be thinking about it?”

“Because I want to do it?” He sounds amused and puzzled.

“I—but, like. Why would…?” You ask, looking anywhere but at him.

“Ah,” he murmurs, realization in his voice. When you look back up at him, his eyes are sparkling, gaze too fond for what comes out of his mouth.

“You make the cutest little noises when you're getting yourself off in my lap. I need to be the reason you make them, on purpose this time.”

A bolt of pure lust hits you right in the stomach, air stalling in your lungs. You shiver, toes curling.

“Ah,” you croak.

The corners of his eyes are crinkling. You look away from him, trying to remember to breathe evenly. “And that’s….good, for you?”

He snorts. “Oh, yes. A lot. Very much.”

“…I see,” you say.

He grins, his gaze landing on your mouth. “Hm? You like that?”

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the liquid heat simmering low in your belly. “A…a little.”

His gaze only makes you hotter. “Yeah? A little?”

“Okay, maybe a lot,” you say, voice raspier than usual.

“Hm.” He studies your face for a long moment, smile rather pleased. Then he winks at you and goes back to his phone. “Good.”

You blink at him in disbelief for a long moment.

“That’s…that’s all?” You ask.

He glances at you. “All?”

“I—you were just…” you flounder for a moment. “Just…asking?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah. Just asking. Good to know.”

“…Oh,” you say.

He glances at you, eyebrows raising in curiosity at your tone. Then he smiles, looking so mischievous that your face burns.

“Did you want it to be something else?” He asks, and his voice is low and silky, brushing smooth like a caress.

Well, you had. Being found out makes you ten shades of embarrassed. You suppose you weren’t exactly subtle, though.

“You are the worst,” you grumble.

Seungyoun grins, plucking your phone from your hand and setting it aside with his and gathering you close to him, until you’re curled up nose-to-nose.

“I am,” he murmurs, gleeful. He looks down at your mouth. “So you’re interested in trying it?”

You swallow hard, settling your hands on his chest. “I…I mean, yes, but…”

The little trails of warmth his fingertips are drawing along the side of your neck are distracting, as is the molten warmth of his eyes.

“But?” He prompts, patient and soft.

Your voice won’t rise above a whisper. “But maybe we, uh….work our way up to it, like. It’s just…”

The thought of diving right in immediately, no matter how interested you are in it, sets little panic bells off in your head.

“…Scary, if we just…go for it,” you breathe, face burning.

His smirk softens into a sweet smile. He nuzzles his nose against yours reassuringly.

“‘Course, love. Defeats the purpose if you’re scared,” he says, and you know by his tone he really means it.

You let out a soft little sigh, more relieved than you realized. He’s always so good about taking things at your pace; it’s wonderful.

Seungyoun gazes at your mouth, lifting a hand and running his thumb along your lower lip. “What if I showed you here what it would be like first? And we can stop there if you want.”

Oh. You glance down at his lips as he talks, mind racing. He wants to give your mouth head. That’s…hmmm. If it was possible to be any more turned on, you would be. You swallow thickly, curling your fingers into his shirt.

“Okay,” you whisper.

He looks back up into your eyes, as though gauging your confirmation. “Yeah?”

“Uh-huh,” you say, nodding a little.

He studies you for another second, then nods once, gazing back down at your mouth. “Is now a good time?”

“Well, let me check my schedule,” you deadpan, and he laughs.

The smile lingers on his lips as he leans in even closer, thumb teasing your lower lip until your mouth parts slightly.

Your hands grip tighter in his shirt when he brushes his mouth over yours, feather-light. A faint kiss at the corner of your mouth, the soft graze of his lips to the other corner, another light kiss. Careful, gentle kisses pecked across your mouth, then the fleeting drag of his tongue on your lower lip.

You gasp against his mouth at the feeling, and he leans in closer, kissing you properly. Each kiss is a long, slow draw, the pressure of his mouth firmer and firmer.

A little noise escapes the back of your throat when his tongue delves carefully into your mouth and back out. He hums, quiet and appreciative. His hands glide from your jaw into your hair as he kisses you, cupping the base of your skull, the nape of your neck, keeping you in place.

He tilts his head slightly and latches his mouth over your upper lip. A shiver wracks through you as his tongue draws along it, tracing your Cupid’s bow with the tip of his tongue before flicking over it gently, back and forth, then in tight circles. Your whole body flushes with blistering heat at the implication, a whimper lodging in your throat. You try to muffle the noise by closing your mouth over his lower lip, pulling on it with awkward suction.

A low groan resonates in his chest. He seals his mouth over yours again, licking hungrily into you. It’s a little different than when he’s used his tongue before. More curious, exploratory. Slow, purposeful strokes of his tongue deep into your mouth, in and out.

It occurs to you in an instant what he’s simulating. Your insides liquefy into boiling honey, raw want clawing through you as you moan shakily into his mouth. You lift your hands to his head, weaving your fingers into his hair and holding on for dear life. He moans at the pressure, tongue stroking along yours deliberately slowly, making you shiver.

He continues at a leisurely pace, pausing to nip and suck playfully at one lip or the other, until you lose all track of time, your mind hazy with need. If it’s anything like this, anything at all, then you want it ten thousand times more now. When he thrusts his tongue into you again, you suck at it shyly, and something like a growl vibrates in his chest. He pulls you even closer, grinding his mouth over yours, tongue probing deeper with each thrust, drawing little moans from you.

When he finally wrenches his mouth from yours, you’re both panting. You gaze at him, chest heaving.

Seungyoun looks ravenous with want. Eyes dark, locked in on you, like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. His lips are swollen from going to work on you.

“So can I try that sometime?” He asks, hoarse.

You want him to try it now. Something. Anything. You’re aching, dazed half-stupid by the kiss and what it implied. To your mortification, only a whimper leaves your throat when you try to respond.

He seems to understand, because his hands go to your hips and yank you closer, knee nudging between yours, giving you the pressure of his leg against where you ache. You sob in relief, and he swallows the sound, crushing his mouth over yours and kissing you like he won’t get the chance again.

You kiss him back desperately, moaning into his mouth when his hand tightens on your hip and drags you hard along his thigh. After so long with nothing, the sensation is exquisite. You copy the movement without assistance, and you feel the rock-solid evidence that he’s affected too against your hip.

His tongue dragging against yours reminds you why you’re this worked up in the first place.

“Please, Seungyoun, just—” you whimper against his lips. “Your mouth, I…please—”

Seungyoun immediately rolls you onto your back, kissing an urgent path down your body, his mouth hot on you even through the fabric of your shirt.

His fingers curl in the waistband of your sweatpants, backs of his knuckles brushing against your skin. He looks up at you.

“Sure?” He asks.

You nod vigorously, panting.

A couple of rushed yanks, and your sweatpants are at your ankles. You kick them off as Seungyoun braces his hands on your knees, fingers inching towards your inner thighs. He looks at you questioningly.

“Still good?”

You squirm, impatient. “Yes, just—”

He parts your legs, guiding you to rest a knee over his shoulder. He turns his head and presses a kiss just above your knee, sending a bolt like white-hot electricity over your skin.

He trails searing kisses up your thigh while his hand coasts up the other, making your hips jolt when the tip of his thumb grazes over the seat of your underwear. You whine when he draws the pad of his thumb up and down, a firm pressure on the dampening fabric.

He looks up at you, the hot drift of his mouth on your leg intoxicating as he plays with you. He pinches some of the fabric between his thumb and forefinger, pulling lightly.

“Off?”

You groan, wriggling your hips. “I swear, stop asking and just do it, or—”

You squeak and jerk in surprise when Seungyoun bites at your inner thigh, a little flash of pleasurable pain.

“Don’t be a brat,” he murmurs against your skin.

You swallow hard, muscles suddenly weak as jelly. “…Fine. Yes, off.”

He eases your leg from his shoulder and sits up to remove your underwear. A sudden wave of nerves hits you unbidden as the fabric slips down over your knees. You’ve never been exposed like this to anyone before. Your legs snap shut of their own accord, tucking your knees closer to you as you purse your lips, feeling timid and ashamed.

Seungyoun immediately senses the shift. “Do we need to stop?”

Panic that this could be where it ends bubbles up in you. You immediately shake your head. “No. No, I-I just…”

You wet your lips. “I’m the only one taking clothes off.”

Understanding dawns in his face, and then he gives you a Look.

“Is this your way of asking to see my tattoos?”

You blink at him innocently, shaking your head. “It’s not.”

He raises an eyebrow.

You nibble your lip. “It’s…mostly not.”

He grins, grabbing the scruff of his shirt and yanking it over his head.

You’ll never understand how you attracted someone as gorgeous as him. You bite your lip harder, admiring the contours of his muscles, the contrast of ink on his skin. The barrel of the gun tattoo disappearing into his waistband sends an acute wave of lust through you. A noise embarrassingly like a purr hums in the back of your throat before you can stop it.

He dips back down and kisses low on your stomach where your shirt has ridden up. You can feel the smile he’s hiding against your skin.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you groan.

“I’m not,” he mumbles into your skin, the scrape of his teeth dragging gently at your hip. “You’re just cute.”

You grumble a little as Seungyoun slowly eases your legs back open, kissing along your thigh.

“So fucking cute,” he whispers when you shiver at the sensation.

Your mouth is dry, every nerve in your body aching for more of his touch.

“Please,” you whisper.

There’s a burning hunger in Seungyoun’s eyes when he looks at you, lips dragging softly up your leg.

“Want my mouth on you, love?”

You whine, nodding.

His eyes are dark, glittering. “Show me where.”

“You know where,” you groan, exasperation mixing with your desperation.

A little smile crooks in the corner of his mouth. “Show me anyway?”

You scowl at him, but he merely grins and shrugs, continuing to press soft kisses into your inner thigh.

Oh, help, you’re really doing this. You take a slow, shaky breath, shutting your eyes, and move your hand between your legs. Embarrassment prickles over your skin as you part yourself with a couple of fingers.

A deep groan punches out of Seungyoun’s throat, vibrating against the crook between your leg and body. “Perfect, baby.”

And then he mouths over you slowly, a hand hooking beneath your knee, keeping you spread open. Your head drops back, mouth open in a silent moan, panting hard as he presses kisses into your aching skin.

Your hand falls away as his mouth slides up, soft and hot, to the cusp of your sex. “Oh.”

A noise rumbles in his chest, and the vibrations against your clit make you squeak. Your fingers sink into his hair, clutching desperately, as the flat of his tongue catches just beneath the throbbing spot.

Oh, my. His mouth on your mouth could never have prepared you for this. Nothing could have. Your whole body feels feverish, set aflame as his tongue drags in curious, erotic patterns over you. You look down at him in time to see his eyes rolling shut as he licks over you, his hips rocking hard into the mattress. Your stomach tightens in pleasure, the sight of him enjoying this so much affecting you. That ever-more-familiar ache grows, stoked higher and higher under the melting heat of his mouth.

His mouth slides down, tongue searching wetly, and finds the entrance into your body. You gasp out as he nuzzles into you, the velvet stroke of his tongue sinking inside.

“Oh,” you sob, fingers fisting in his hair. “Oh, please, that’s so—”

You cut off with a cry as the tip of his nose nudges against the underside of your clit. So many blissful sensations, all at once, and you feel that tension building towards a height you’ve never experienced before.

Helpless to stop, your hips rock you against his mouth. He coaxes your leg over his shoulder and slides his arm over your hips, brief glimpse of the frowning and smiling face tattoos on his wrist before he pins you back down. You whimper, pitch rising higher and higher as he continues tongue-fucking you like it’s all he’s ever wanted, his hips grinding hard in tandem with the rhythm of his mouth.

He’s moaning into you like he can’t help himself, and you squeal as his mouth slides back up and covers your clit, sucking. You feel your limbs trembling, fingers tightening in his hair, hear yourself babbling as the pleasure gathers to a pinpoint.

“Please don’t stop, don’t stop, so close, please don’t stop Seungyoun, pleasepleaseplease—”

Seungyoun groans, sucks a little harder, tongue twisting perfectly, and your vision goes white. Unfathomable euphoria bursts through you as the tension breaks in hard, pulsing waves, and you let them carry you.  You feel your hips undulating in helpless shudders against his hold, hear yourself gasping breathless moans, before you collapse back into the mattress, boneless. Seungyoun’s mouth eases you from ecstasy to relaxation, hand easing from beneath your knee and rubbing your leg soothingly.

When you look down at him, he’s gazing up at you like you’re a miracle, lips swollen and glistening in you. A corner of your mouth pulls into a weary, fond smile. You stroke your fingers through his hair gently, combing out the mess you made of it.

He moves back up and gathers you to him, mouth covering yours softly. The tang of you is odd and unfamiliar to taste in his mouth, but you love how sincerely he kisses it into you.

“That,” he mumbles against your mouth, “might be the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You lean back and burst into giggles. “To you?”

He nods, looking entirely like he means it, and you snort.

“I’ve never come like that before,” he says, the admission tingeing his ears pink.

You blink, eyes blowing wide in surprise. “I—you…?”

His whole face is on fire now. He buries his face against your shoulder, whining, “you were so cute, you sounded so hot, how was I supposed to help it?”

“Oh my god.” You can’t stop smiling, shocked. Well. There go your plans to ask about returning the favor. “…Simp.”

“Hey,” he laughs, and you chuckle.

He leans back, examining you more closely. “That was okay? No crossed lines or anything?”

You shake your head quickly. “No, no, that was….well, great.”

“Nothing bothered you? Need something else next time?”

“Oh my god,” you mutter, smiling in utter disbelief. “Next time.”

He raises an eyebrow, corner of his mouth curling. “Next time can be whenever you want. For example…”

“Wha—I—Seungyoun,” you gasp, bursting into surprised laughter as he dips his head and begins kissing down your body again.

You can feel the curve of his grin through your shirt, pressed right over your heart.

[2012wannabe]

Idk if ur still doing the kinktober thing but I was thinking about #17 w/ Ellie x toxic!reader and readers ex!Abby 🤷🏾‍♀️........ omg who said that??👀

(It was definitely me)

~☁️

17. Threesome/Moresome

wc: 1505

cw/tw: threesome, toxic!fem!reader x gf!ellie x ex!abby, smut obvi lol, pussy eating, fingering, strap on, throat fucking

a/n: I am!! Honestly I’ve had so much trouble writing for the past few years so I live on requests to help give me ideas! For anyone feel free to send requests/asks to my box and I’ll do my best to put something together :))) I hope I did your prompt justice. I’ve also never written Ellie before so I also hope she isn’t too ooc

You cheerfully slid on the couch next to Ellie, flinging your arms around her.

“Hi, els.” You say, kissing her cheek.

“Hey, baby.” She says, sliding her arms around your waist comfortably.

“I missed you so much today. You were gone for so long.” You pout.

“I know, my patrol went overtime because the people that were supposed to replace us were delayed. But I’m here now.” You respond by kissing her on the lips and pulling her forward. She reciprocates the kiss and fixes your hair, putting it back behind your ear.

“So you know, I was thinking… You told me a while ago that you wanted to try something new and I thought we could spice things up a bit.”

“Spice things up a bit how?” She asks, holding your waist still.

“We could… you know, explore new boundaries by having… a threesome.”

“What?” She exclaimed, her eyebrows quirking in confusion.

“With who?”

“We would decide that together but I was thinking Abby. I know you think she’s hot.”

“Your ex, Abby?”

“Yes.” You say pursing her lips. Ellie immediately goes to nod her head no and you jump up to hug your arms around her neck.

“Hey, it won’t be that big of a deal. Don’t you trust me, baby?” She still looks hesitant and you start to lean into her.

“I trust you…”

“It’ll just be once. Besides… if you really love me.” You say your voice trailing off the last syllable. Her eyes widen as she starts to think it over. You hold her gently and look her eyes as innocently as you can manage and start to speak,

“I know you’ve been thinking about it too…” Ellie takes another moment to think and eventually says before pausing again,

“If it will make you happy then yes.” You pout,

“I don’t want you to do it just for me, I want you to do it because you want to.” There’s another strength of silence and she starts to fiddle with her ring and pinky finger on her left hand.

“I want to do it.”

“Aw, thanks els!” You say pressing light butterfly kisses all over her face. She laughs a bit, semi-forced but smiling at seeing you smiling.

….

The day finally comes, and you excitedly get ready in the mirror. You pull out all the stops, a full face of makeup, lingerie, and a pretty outfit over it. You swish your skirt in the mirror loving how it was so short you could see the round of your butt.

“What do you think els?” You ask bending over her, showing off the other part of your outfit; a low-cut crop top that pushed your breasts out for her to see. Her mouth instantly dries despite her own pout.

“You look… perfect.” You smile a big cheesy smile and do a little spin for her. Seeing your ass under your skirt, she mutters under her breath,

“Jesus Christ.”

“It looks good doesn’t it?”

“Don’t ever wear that skirt out. Don’t want strangers seeing what’s mine.” You giggle at that and swish your skirt once more to show off your butt. The doorbell suddenly rings and you grin widely.

“Can you go get the door els? Need to put on one last touch.” She nods slowly and gets up to the door as you dash to the bathroom. Kneeling, you pull a small box from the cabinet and open it to find the butt plug and bottle of lube. You insert it carefully and adjust your thong to keep it hidden for now. You walk back out and smile brightly at Abby, who is standing out with Ellie. Both girls look slightly awkward and the air is a bit tense but the tension melts when they look at you.

“Hey Abs!” You say greeting her with a kiss on both cheeks. Her face flushes and grabs their hands dragging them along with you. You sit on the bed, perfectly poised, and grin as Ellie leans forward to kiss you. You kiss her back fiercely and Abby leans your body into her lap. Her hands reach around to play with your breasts, cupping them over your clothes and feeling the soft exposed skin. Ellie pulls away from your kiss, grinning as you are connected by a string of spit. She grabs your waist and slowly peels off your shirt, leaving your lacy bra. Abby’s hands immediately returned to your breasts, unclipping your bra as quickly as she could. She gasps lowly as you're exposed and as Ellie kisses her down your body, Abby leans over to kiss you.

As she kisses you, her hands start to tweak your nipples and you gasp into your mouth. You moan lowly and lose yourself in her touch until you hear Ellie gasp.

“Holy fuck…” She whispered, having pulled down your skirt and thong to find the butt plug you inserted. Abby looks up and laughs, smirking at you.

“Left us a gift?” She mocks as Ellie twists and pulls at it making you moan out loud. Ellie gives a playful slap to your cunt and you yelp. Abby leans down to kiss you again as Ellie starts to trace around the edges of your pussy experimenting with trying to push the pads of her fingers in.

“Please els.” You beg through Abby’s lips.

“Want to be full…”

“Oh you do, don’t you?” Abby coos as Ellie roughly curls her digits, fingering you. Abby carefully moves your body to lie on the bed and straddles you, unbuckling her belt. From the sound alone, you nearly gasp at the anticipation. Unzipping her pants, you see something you haven’t seen in a very long time; her thick black strap-on. She lightly taps it against your jaw and your mouth drops open obediently. She roughly shoves it in and you moan as Ellie continues her assault, curling her fingers to hit your g spot. In a strange opposition, Abby gently combs your hair away from your face, grabs it by the handful, and groans as she pumps it into your mouth. You moan loudly and spit messily drips down from the side of your mouth. Abby thrusts particularly hard and you gag.

“There you go… good girl.” She whispers watching your face intently. Between both women, you feel the coil in your core getting close to snapping. Ellie’s fingers pump in and out, suddenly putting pressure on your clit. You gasp, leaving more room for Abby to push her dick in, your nose practically nuzzling her pelvis. You try to mumble,

“Gonna cum,” but you can barely think much less talk. Suddenly the coil snaps and Ellie along with the sheets are soaked.

“Holy shit…you squirted babe.” She says looking at you and Abby. Abby smirks and slowly releases your mouth.

“I didn’t know I could do that.” You say quietly, your head back in bliss. Ellie kisses you square on the lips, gently cupping your jaw.

“You did so good for us.” She whispers as you slowly sit up to change positions.

“Can we…want to eat you out.” You say pawing at Abby’s waist. She grins settling back on the bed, straddling your face. You gesture to Ellie to come closer and as you lie in between Abby’s legs, Ellie makes herself at home to slot your leg between hers. You start by littering their thighs with light kisses, kissing up to between her legs. She groans and mutters,

“Please don’t tease.” You grin an move to suddenly lick a stripe up and Abby shivers watching Ellie slowly grind her hips against you.

“You’re so wet for me abs.” You say as you dive in further pointing your tongue and enjoying the feeling of her arousal dripping down her leg. You tease her hole with your tongue, letting the pads of your fingers find her clit and rub circles around it. She lets out a loud wanton moan and her legs open wider for you. You tug her down, grabbing her thighs,

“Sit. Sit on my face.” Abby groans again, lightly lowering herself on you before you ask again.

“Don’t be afraid. Put all your weight on me.” You beg pulling at her legs. She obeys and you moan as you eat her out loving the pressure of her body on top of you. You hear Ellie whimpering as Abby moans and you love the sounds. Ellie is desperately grinding on your thigh, making quite the mess. You continue moan into Abby’s cunt as you hear Ellie’s moans get higher as she gets closer to cumming. You start to speed up with your tongue and Abby gasps. You play with her clit more and more and like Ellie her gasps and moans start to get higher.

“You close?”

“Yeah, yeah.” They both breathe out.

“Fuck! Fuck, I’m cumming!” Abby yells out. You pull her closer go swallow all of her arousal and she nearly collapses against the bed. Ellie cums soon after, laying with you both, completely spent.

[red-pill-blue-pill]

As friends.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Miller

Summary: Joel is your friend, he just happens to be really handsome

Warnings: mild spice towards the end ??? just in case, fluff, friends to lovers (just so y'all know I'm a sucker for that shit)

a/n: I wanted to write a little blurb but it got outta hand. This is is my first time writing for the Joel Miller and i'm nervous (I love this character so much) so please be kind 💖

His living room was dimly lit by one of the lamps next to the couch. Something played in the background, blues you think. He had found a record player a couple of weeks ago while he was patrolling with Tommy. He had even come across some records in perfect condition, tucked inside a tattered wardrobe. He was such a lucky fucker. 

When he came back, he showed them off to you while saying something along the lines of “‘f you wanna listen to them you gotta come to mine, sweetheart” flashing you one of his now familiar cocky smiles, as if he needed to convince you to spend time with him.

Your stomach still churns at the nickname and you chastise yourself every time, for letting your mind even dare to go down that path when it’s Joel the one you’re talking about, for even thinking about him that way. Joel, your fucking friend. It had to be the lack of romantic action in your life. It had been so long since you last were with someone that your brain had to be confused. No one in Jackson had caught your eye for the last couple of years, nor tried to make any advances to you, and who would have dared when you were next to Joel —mean scary Joel— every single day?

Still, you didn’t care, you spent most of your free time either with him or at his house, playing games with Ellie while he was on patrol or sipping on wine and talking about your day when he fixed you a nice dinner. Like right now, back at his living room, soft blues playing in the background and the soft orange light from his lamp rendering the room even cozier. 

You were sitting on his sofa, glass of wine in hand. Blues had never been your type of music, at least not until Joel showed you one of the records he found on patrol, an Eric Clapton one, a smile from ear to ear and an excited “Look what I’ve found, I reckon you gon’ love it.” 

But now, as you look at him sprawled on the couch, his head —his big ass, heavy head— resting on your legs with his eyes closed and humming softly to the song, you believe it may be your favorite. 

You sipped on your wine and carded your fingers softly through his hair, relishing in the feeling of his hair through your fingers. You looked down at him, his face was completely relaxed, the familiar pull of his frown nowhere to be seen. He looked so peaceful like this, his long lashes fanned over his cheeks and the light casted soft shadows over his face. He was so handsome.

“You are so handsome” your mouth spoke before your brain could catch up. His eyes opened, orbs completely dark thanks to the lightning, and he quirked a brow, clearly amused at your comment. You tried to recover quickly “And I’m just saying this the way a friend calls another friend cute, don’t get too excited.” You chuckled. 

Lies, lies, lies.

He scoffed, “Yeah, right.” he closed his eyes again, letting himself enjoy the feeling of your deft fingers through his hair. “Who you tryna fool, sweetheart? ‘m as old as time.”

You stretched your arm to place the wine glass on the coffee table, careful to not disturb Joel with the motion. This time, your now free hand went to trace the lines on his forehead so softly, a barely there touch. A shiver ran down his spine. It had been a long time since someone touched him with such care, as if he was some precious relic, only to be treated with care. 

“Hate that you can’t see what I see, Joel” your voice was soft, charged with love, but still stern. You hated when he was self deprecating, which unfortunately was very often. 

“And what is it you see?” he swallowed the lump in his throat. Why were his hands sweating all of a sudden?

Your fingers drifted to the lines around his eyes, tracing them with your fingertips. “For starters you’re rugged and strong and that’s just plain attractive. Besides, you think age kills beauty, but it’s quite the opposite.” His eyes opened once again and gazed up at you, something you couldn’t quite make out swirling in them. You continued, trying to ignore the heat of his stare “The lines in your face… they mean you’ve lived, you’re alive.” you are here with me

“What do you mean?” his voice was barely above a whisper, hoarse because of the sudden dryness that  had taken over his mouth. 

“This one right here” you smoothed out his semi-permanent frown with your thumb “tells me you’ve got very few friends.” 

“m‘kay, that’s rude.” he feigned hurt for a few seconds, then he saw your bright smile. That goddamned smile, the one he never got tired of seeing. And then he smiled too. A small and barely there grin. 

“Then the ones around your eyes”, your fingers skimmed over his crows feet,  “they tell me that you’ve laughed and smiled a lot, that despite this nightmare we’ve found ourselves in, you were happy once.”

Silent fell over the room, Eric Clapton sang in the background as Joel and you played at your personal staring contest, one charged with unspoken feelings. His eyes were wide in surprise, searching your face, looking for something you sure fucking hoped he found in the way your soft eyes looked back at him. Your fingers still threaded through his locks, not once having stopped since he laid his head on your legs. Everything felt intimate, maybe way too intimate for just a couple of good friends having some wine after dinner. 

A nervousness settled in your bones, the kind of feeling you get when you know something’s about to happen but you don’t know what. Your heartbeat picked up, it thumped wildly against your chest, your eardrums, all along your veins. Then you cleared your throat, unable to stand the silence any longer. “Anyway, as I said, you are handsome.” you let out an awkward breathy laugh. “I‘m telling you as a friend” you quickly added. Again. For good measurement, right?

He sat back up on the sofa, his body slightly twisted to face you. In the daze of the moment you had completely forgotten how broad he actually was, his knee pressing against your thigh. “As a friend…” he echoed back at you, a teasing smile spreading over his features. God, he was going to be the death of you. 

You reached back for your wine glass and nodded absentmindedly before taking a long gulp, not daring to look him in the eyes just yet. Suddenly, his hand cupped your face softly, fingers pressing lightly into your cheeks, encouraging you to look at him. His eyes were filled with tenderness and the kind of hope you have when love is still a possibility. His lips were mere inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours. 

“Would’ya mind if I kissed you, sweetheart?” his voice was low and syrupy and it ignited a different kind of desire in you, something you had never felt before, raw, primal. You inhaled sharply and before you were even able to answer he added “As friends, that is.” he chuckled, clearly proud of himself for teasing you, and you smiled fondly. 

“Ain’t that what really good friends do?” you laughed breathily.

“Oh, I reckon they do a whole lot more than that.” 

His lips pressed softly against yours, a softness you knew Joel was capable of but you had never experienced it yourself. Now, after getting a taste you didn't want to live without it. His hand moved to cup the back of your head, tangling with the hair at the nape of your neck, keeping you against his lips, deepening the kiss. Your hands found purchase on his shoulders, and thank god because suddenly Joel was grabbing your thighs and pulling you to straddle his lap. 

He took advantage of the gasp of surprise that left your lips and licked greedily into your mouth. His hands roamed your back, going down occasionally to squeeze your ass over your jeans, relishing in the whimpers he pulled from you. Your hips started moving on their own accord, rutting against Joel’s growing bulge, making a deep groan rumble on his chest.

You tugged on his hair to break the kiss and stared dreamily at him. His pupils were blown out, his half lidded eyes hazy with lust, his lips swollen and red from kissing and a light shade of red tinted his cheeks. He was positively fucked out. 

“You want this?” he asked while playing with the hem of your t-shirt, ducking his head once again to lick and kiss at your neck.

You could only muster a distracted “Hmh” as you kept rutting your hips against his. “As friends?” you asked between whimpers.

He pulled away to look at you, a hint amusement in his eyes as he took in the cocky grin you were sporting despite the lust filled gaze directed at him. His hands slipped past the waistband of your jeans, grabbing your panties from behind and pulling till the fabric rubbed against your clit. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips.

“As friends” he answered before claiming your mouth once again.

[moonfurthetemmie]

There’s fireworks going off outside for reasons beyond me and I suddenly remembered a thing I wrote ages ago for Dreamswap

I have no idea when anymore, though I think it was around when Fatal Flaws first became what it is now; with and Vick, Ellie, and Crystal being girls. So…a few years ago now, I think. I posted it on Quotev.

But I wanted to share it here

It sounds like a headcanon, but it’s less of a headcanon and more of a “hm. Hear me out; what if-“ type thing. I’d claim it as a headcanon, but honestly I haven’t thought about it since writing it JAJSHSH

Anyway here it is:

Nightmare Doesn’t Like Fireworks.

Nightmare doesn't like fireworks. He never liked them to begin with; they were too loud and sudden. He assumed it was something he'd get used to.

Nightmare still doesn't like fireworks. He's heard about so many horrible accidents with them, with people who were too stupid to follow the instructions correctly, thinking they could make their New Years or Independence Day better if they spiced it up a little. He likes to fuck around, but not at the expense of someone's life, or safety. And they're still too loud for him.

Nightmare never liked fireworks. But now he's found something that he likes even less. Something just as dangerous, and loud, and sudden, but even worse, because they're supposed to hurt people.

Nightmare can't handle fireworks. Their popping reminds him too much of gunshots now. He's been chased by cops so many times, cops who don't care that Dream wants him alive. A dead criminal is much better than an alive one, to them; and even if Dream gets mad, they can surely find a convincing lie to tell him.

Cross likes fireworks. They're so cool. In her original AU, they only ever came in white and purple. She was excited to see other kinds, when she got out. But Nightmare never wanted to go watch fireworks, and it was safer for them to stick together, so she didn't go that much.

Error likes fireworks. The first New Years' she spent with Cross and Nightmare, she asked if they were going to go watch a fireworks show. Cross and Nightmare knew she probably wouldn't go if they weren't going to. Cross said she'd like to go.

Nightmare is afraid of fireworks. But...it had been a long time since he'd been around any. And he wanted to hang out with his friends. So he said he'd go. They were both happy to have him along, until they realized how nervous he was. When the first one went off, Nightmare flinched. After a few more, he was shaking. Cross and Error took him home before he got any worse.

Nightmare doesn't like fireworks.

Cross and Error think they know why now.

[narislvr]

-> PALESTINE RESOURCES (don't skip.)

,, ellie williams x latina!/mex!reader hcs ⤹˚˖♬୭

,, cws? afab and mainly mexican coded reader | fluff ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

ᝰ.ᐟ nari note : 1.) thank you so much for the overwhelming support on my works it really means a lot. This is yet another self indulgent post but hopefully other mex/latina ellie fans enjoy this too ♡ 2.) I will be continuing to post my writing every now and then, however, I will continue to be posting things regarding Palestine and will be linking resources on whatever non-palestine post I make in order to continue to spread awareness.

' ' Que simplemente puedo decir yo,

Que eres lo mas bonito, que he visto en toda mi vida , ,

˖♬୭ she's a shameless duolingo user. Like, she's very serious about doing the lessons, scoffing whenever you laugh at her while shes doing her lessons on the couch next to you, volume all the way up as she mumbles the phrases under her breath, repeating them even when shes not doing the lessons.

"what? I wanna impress la suegra next time we go visit."

˖♬୭ speaking of which, she made sure that she left a good impression with your parents the moment she met them, or atleast tried. she was so nervous to meet them, especially with the whole language barrier thing, but she was quick to call your parents her suegros, taking them by surprise at first but they quickly grew to like her.

ellie and your mom fr

˖♬୭ she adores your mom, always offering to help out in the kitchen even if she has no idea what to do. she has a low spice tolerance, but you best believe she's trying the mole when your mom asks her to taste it.

"esta.. muy bueno..!" she'd say, sniffling as she leans onto your side and offers your mom a smile. you'd tease her about it later, and she'd reply with a 'it wasn't that spicy."

˖♬୭ she likes the Carne asadas your family has now and then, finding the music, food, and just the amount of family being there comforting. she didn't have much of a sense of community other than joel growing up so it was something she welcomed once the two of you became serious and she spent more time with your family.

˖♬୭ You'll either find her running around playing with the kids or joining the men playing pirinola or with the tias in loteria. If she happens to win, she'll run up to you, a cheeky grin on her face as she wraps an arm around your shoulders.

"Told you I'd win. Got ten dollars to treat ya' with, what you want tomorrow?"

˖♬୭ she found it an honor the first time she got to be in charge of the piñata. though she made it easy on the little kids so that they could hit it, she didn't hesitate to pull the piñata out of reach for the big kids when it was their turn.

˖♬୭ The first time you brought ellie to a quienceañera she was stunned, in a good way of course. Again, she was in awe of how everyone played a part in making it happen, and would definitely ask you all about yours as she wished she had met you sooner so that she could have been a part of it.

Ellie didn't know how to dance, not being able to do much more than sway to the rhythm, so when she saw the way you looked at the dance floor, she tried her best to push you to go even if it was without her. she really didn't want to embarrass herself in front of your family, and she didn't want to hold you back, but you were too stubborn to leave her.

"C'mon, el's, it'll be funnn. I'll guide you the whole time, okay?" you'd argue, tugging at her hand with a reassuring look. And how could she say no when you looked at her like that? With a small nod, she gets up, her hand in yours as you lead her towards the dance floor.

Huapango played in the background, as she watched your eyes illuminate, your arms wrapping around her shoulders as you smiled up at her.

"It's just little steps like this, okay? Yeah.. like that.. see? You're a natural!"

You lead her through the dance, not opting for a spin yet as you swayed your hips to rhythm. To say Ellie was an awe would be an understatement. You looked so comfortable like this, radiant, nothing compared to her shakey awkward steps as she tried to keep up with you.

"One day I'm gonna spin you like that couple over there.. You gotta keep teaching me though, alright?" She'd respond, eyes locked with yours as her hands gently squeezed your sides. You smile at this, nodding as you place a kiss against her cheek before reaching for the cowboy hat and placing it on her head with a chuckle.

"alright."

PALESTINE RESOURCES

[those-late-night-feels]

Sweet Surrender

Summary: Joel is there to protect you & a bond grows. Boston QZ, no Tess/Ellie.

Warnings: 18+ only. Attempted rape (not Joel), smut.

AN: Apologies to my Loki fan-fam. This one has been rolling around in my head for a while and I had to write it down.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The world had sometimes been a dangerous place before the outbreak. Now, danger was the norm. You couldn't turn a corner without facing it. Cordyceps, thieves, rapists, murderers–in the end, we were destined to turn into one of them. There was no such thing as living pure and good these days. Those people were dead, and everyone else had blood on their hands.

The QZ maintained order as much as possible, although even those who were expected to protect had their hands dipped in nefarious affairs. But survival was the name of the game, and we all tried our best.

Survival meant long hours as a cook for the QZ's cafeteria, learning how to stretch food to feed those remaining, learning how to ration, learning to keep your head down.

Another end to the typical 10-hour shift and the sun had just begun its descent. Untying the greasy apron to hang on the hook until tomorrow, the cellar keys were grabbed to store the remaining ingredients not used–nothing was to be wasted.

"Hey, I'm heading down." The burly security guard nodded quietly, watching while you carried the random stockpile of long-expired sugar, dried spices, garden vegetables, and tins. The cellar was cold and dark, well sealed to hopefully prevent rodents. Items were shelved and inventory checked, making sure nothing had been tampered or was rotting.

The door to the cellar creaked and then clicked shut, making you turn.

"Hello?" you called out, pulse quickening. It was unlikely that a Cordyseyps would make it into the QZ, but not impossible.

From the shadows, the security guard emerged. But, what at first was a sense of relief quickly turned to dread as his large hand covered your mouth and a sharp knife pressed to your throat.

"Don't scream and you don't die. Got it?" Confused, you trembled beneath his hand, your mind going blank. "Got it?"

Your head nodded slowly and he gave a sinister smile. The knife dragged painfully downward to your shirt, cutting it open. His other hand to the button of his pants as they popped open with a grunt.

"So fuckin' pretty. Gonna make you feel real good in a minute," he rasped and your eyes averted to the side, away from his receding hairline and crooked teeth, stomach clenching in disgust. His heavy, greedy form pushed against you, attempting to pin you against the wall a few feet away.

Hand reaching out, you blindly felt for anything as your pants were roughly tugged. Only a few seconds until they'd be ripped off. Fingers grazed plastic jars, bags, boxes too large, glass. In the chaos of fumbling hands and zippers opening, your hand latched onto a glass bottle and drove it down to his head with a thud.

He jolted in shock at the impact, the knife in his hand slicing open your forearm. A second blow to the head, a sickening crack of glass on bone, and then you bolted toward the exit in a panic, blood running down your arm. Was that yours or his?

You burst through the door to the evening chill and collided into the arms of a firm brick wall of a man. Just your luck to run from the arms of one man and into the arms of another.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Joel had sometimes wondered if a wanderer would be better off running into a Cordyceps or him. Who was the bigger monster? Both had been on the receiving end of screams and fear. Both were just trying to survive.

He hadn't had those thoughts for a few weeks, but he carried a reputation around town. Stares were ignored and rumors grew, but he didn't correct anyone. The more he was feared, the better.

Walking through midtown, another shift of burning the infected in the books, he looked forward to reclining on the couch and nursing a glass of whiskey. A door down the alley burst open and a small shaken frame collided into him. He had almost been as startled as you, wild-eyed, bloody, and trembling in his arms. Cheeks flushed, lip bleeding, shirt torn open. Damn, what kind of mess had she gotten herself in?

A guard appeared abruptly from the door and stopped short when he saw Joel. "Hold her," he yelled, slightly out of breath. "She needs to be detained."

He started towards you, pulling out zip ties, and Joel felt your grip on his shirt tighten.

"Why's she being detained?" Joel asked, calm and nonchalant, but he could feel your body trembling.

"That's none of your business."

Joel raised an eyebrow, putting a protective hand on your shoulder. He may not run this town, but he was typically given more respect than that by a guard. "Seems like it is my business now that I'm involved."

The guard's jaw flexed, considering Joel. "She assaulted a guard and resisted arrest for theft."

Joel looked from you to the guard, your eyes pleading with this stranger. Don't let me go with him. "This little thing assaulted you?"

The guard clenched his fist, narrowing his eyes at Joel. "And resisted arrest for theft."

Joel nodded, as if understanding clearly. "Did she also unzip your pants?"

The guard's face reddened, pulling the zipper up. "Hand her over."

Joel sighed. Just once, he'd like to have a day where there wasn't shit for him to clean up. "Listen, you had your little fun. But if you think she's going anywhere with you, you've got another thing comin'. It's time for you to leave before things get messy."

"Is that a threat?" he growled.

"No, it's a fact."

There was silence, Joel staring down the guard, his hand never leaving your shoulder. The guard looked between you and a man who might actually kill him.

"Fuckin' cunt," he mumbled, and spit on the ground at Joel's feet. Joel didn't move a muscle until the guard turned the corner, only then releasing his grip on you.

"Y'alright?" he asked.

You nodded out of habit, pulling your torn shirt over your chest in embarrassment. Was anyone alright these days?

Joel removed his flannel–a thin t-shirt underneath–and handed it to you, consciously trying his best not to stare at your lacy bra-clad breasts. It hadn't been that long since he'd seen a naked woman, but when was the last time that he'd seen one in something like that? Nowadays, everyone survived being practical–long lasting clothes, shelf stable foods, nothing frivolous.

You pulled his shirt on while whispering a thanks, careful to slip your cut arm through with a grimace.

"That could use some tending to," he said, looking down at the bloodied arm. "I'm just down here, can patch you up real quick."

No words came out when your mouth opened. You didn't know him. How could you kindly say that you didn't want to risk being assaulted twice in one day?

Noticing your hesitation, he rubbed his head in thought. "Or, I could get my med kit and bring it down. You can wait outside."

You nodded with a thankful smile and followed him to the gray brick building, one of the designated housing units within the QZ. He came back a few minutes later, a first aid kit tucked under his arm and a bottle of unlabeled alcohol in his hand.

"Where'd you get that?" you asked, medical supplies being hard to come by.

"Where does anyone get anything these days?" he replied cheekily.

Arm extended, his calloused hands gently brushed along your skin as he tipped the bottle to the wound, causing you to suck through your teeth in pain.

"Only hurts for a moment," he said, wiping away the excess blood. He was careful with you, slow to clean the wound, his dark eyes focused on tending to your arm.

"Don't think you'll need to be stitched up," he mumbled, placing a clean cloth over the wound, then wrapping it snugly with a roll of medical tape. "Good as new," he said when he was finished.

"What do I owe ya', doc?" you asked, examining your bandaged arm. He gave a slight smirk at the nickname, pulling you to your feet, his touch lingering for a moment before shoving his hand in his pocket. "It's on the house."

"Thank you…"

He gave you his name and you offered yours. The sky was in shades of pink and gray, the sun long since settled past the horizon.

"Let's get you back to your place before curfew."

You led the way, Joel striding with a casual gait next to you. Turning the corner on the block, you stopped in front of the steps to your building. "This is me."

You started to unbutton the flannel shirt to give back to him, but he shook his head. "Keep it. Looks better on you anyways."

Blushing in response, you pulled the shirt down. "Make sure you keep that wound clean and change the bandage in the mornin'."

"Yes doc." You smiled at him and were about to turn towards the door.

"Here," he said, pressing a small pocket knife into your palm. You turned it over in your hand, the smooth wooden handle worn down from years of use.

"I… I don't need that."

"Yes. You do." The way he said it was like it was final. The knife was pocketed and you looked up into his dark eyes, his forehead creased.

"Thanks. Goodnight Joel," you said, and he stood in front of your building until you were out of sight, safe for the night.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It had been more than a week since the incident. The thought of not returning to work had crossed your mind, but no asshole was going to have that kind of power over you. Walking through the cafeteria door with your head held high and Joel's knife tucked away in your pocket, you discovered a new guard stationed. He stood watch at the front and nodded his head in your direction when he caught you staring.

Had the other guard been repositioned to a new post? Had Joel reported him? Either way, he wasn't worth a second thought, and you went about the day a little happier.

At the end of another long shift, your hands ached from peeling a bin of potatoes and your hair was coated in flour. Those long ago days of standing aimlessly under a hot shower were a distant memory, but sometimes you still daydreamed about it. How long had it been since you'd taken a proper shower, instead of the warmed up sponge baths you were all accustomed to now? Memories of those daily luxuries clouded your mind when you spotted Joel across the street.

"Hey doc," you said with a smile, crossing to meet him. To the average observer, Joel seemed to have a scowl, but you could see the corner of his lip turn up when he spotted you.

"How's the arm?"

You stretched it out, the same bandage wrapped around with clean cloth. "Sore, but healing."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm headed to the cafeteria. You hungry?"

You crinkled up your nose. "Hungry, yes. But there's no way I'm stepping back in that building after a 10-hour shift. Come with me."

He raised an eyebrow. "You know of somewhere else to get food?"

"You'll see."

Your apartment was a small studio–a bed, a table, a few chairs. In exchange for housing, you worked wherever there was a need. Knick knacks and artwork decorated window sills and walls. Joel wondered what was yours and what had been here before the outbreak.

"Make yourself at home," you said as your key clanged on the counter. Dried pasta and a tin of tomato sauce were pulled from a cupboard and set on the counter.

"Where'd you find that?" he asked, knowing everything was rationed and outside food was hard to come by.

"You have your secrets and I have mine," you said with a wink.

"So," you began, filling a pot with water and setting it to boil on the stove while watching Joel out of the corner of your eye. "I'm guessing you weren't a doctor…before..."

You trailed off and he shook his head, casually taking in the minimal decor, a small collection of books on one shelf, some plants you managed to dig up and repot on the window sills. "Construction," he said simply, picking up a brain teaser puzzle from the table and fiddling with the metal hooks.

"How long have you been in Boston?" he asked, watching as you pulled some spices from a high shelf, your shirt riding up when you reached. He turned his head in an attempt to focus on the brain teaser and hope you hadn't caught his stare.

"Few months now." Dried pasta was poured into the boiling water, watching as it swirled around with your wooden spoon. "My last QZ… it wasn't safe. A few of us snuck out. We'd heard Boston might be better."

You almost said it like it was a question, but Joel knew the answer. He'd seen his share of shit going down in Boston; hell, he'd sometimes been apart of it.

"Anyway, thank you for your help the other day. I don't want you to think I'm some damsel in distress, but… I'm grateful you were there."

And it was true, you didn't want him thinking you were helpless. But it felt so good to have someone protect you for once.

He shook his head. "Anyone who's survived this long I wouldn't consider to be a damsel in distress."

The sad attempt at a spaghetti marinara was placed in front of him. "Well, it's no Olive Garden, but…"

"It's perfect," he said, looking between you and the large plate. Timidly, you handed him one of the two forks and sat opposite of him, ready to dig in.

You and he ate in a semi-comfortable silence, occasionally chatting about the going-ons of the QZ. It was nice to have someone around, without needing to give a life story.

Studying him while he ate, you noticed a collection of scars on his arms and face, new wounds on his hands that were bruised and slowly scabbing over. But for all the marks that decorated his body, the scowl that he carried around with him, you felt comfortable in his presence, an inkling that he wouldn't hurt you.

After dinner, you walked him to the door and he paused in the frame, towering over you. He studied the flecks in your eyes and you smiled nervously.

There was something about you that he hadn't felt in a long time, like he needed to protect you from every fucker in this world. His stare made something twist inside you and looking down, you reached for his palm. He looked down at your touch, bringing the metal brain teaser between you.

"Figured I should trade you something for the knife. Let me know if you solve this one," you said, telling him good night and falling asleep in his flannel shirt.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"I'm telling you, he saw it with his own eyes."

The kitchen crew huddled around as you walked in, tying the worn black apron around your waist.

"What are we talking about?" you asked the group, grabbing a bin of apples picked recently.

"Rob's roommate went on a patrol last night. He ran into one of the guards who had turned into a cordyceps."

You nodded, grabbing a knife from the drawer, slicing the apple in two. "Ok, that's nothing new."

"Yeah, but they found him tied to a tree."

Knife paused mid-cut, you lifted your head. "What?"

"The guy was tied up, like hands bound, feet tied, gagged, all tied up like someone left him there."

A cold chill slowly crept up your spine, "Who was it?"

They all shrugged their shoulders, no one giving a confirmed response, only speculations mumbled amongst themselves. Your heart pounded, stomach in knots. It couldn't be…. Could it?

When your shift was done, you raced to the gray brick building. Six stories high and you had no idea which apartment was his. Shit!

You had half a mind to just start knocking on every door. Pacing back and forth, your name was called and you looked up to see Joel walking toward you like an answer to a prayer.

"What are you–"

"I need to talk to you," you interrupted, coming up to him abruptly, eyes fierce. He could sense you were trying to control the quiver in your voice and raised his eyebrows. "Alright. Everything okay?"

You shook your head. "Not here."

He took you up to his apartment, holding the door as you walked in. The room was small, dark, and cold, the small brain teaser sitting on the counter.

"You okay?" he asked, closing the door behind you, a look of concern on his face.

Ignoring his inquiry, you turned on your heel to face him. "Did you kill him?"

It was demanding, accusational, harsher than you had meant. He stared at you quietly and your pulse thumped in your neck.

This world was difficult to survive in, and you'd scraped your way through it on your own wits and a lot of luck. There had been friends, family, acquaintances that were less than trustworthy, and most of them were either gone or dead. And here was this man you barely knew who came out of nowhere to protect you. It threw you off balance.

"What are you talking ab-"

"No Joel," you said, raising a hand to stop him. "Don't do that. Don't play dumb with me. That guard, did you kill him? Tell me the truth."

He studied you, this small fiery force that looked scared but put up a front. How had she survived this long, he wondered.

"Alright," he began slowly, "you want the truth? The truth is after I took you home, I saw him lingering around your building. I watched him, talking to the other guards, studying the building, pointing to your window. If I hadn't done what I did, he would have raped and killed you, and then probably come after me out of spite."

Stunned by his answer, you shook your head in disbelief. "You don't know that Joel. I didn't… I didn't ask you to do that!"

The guilt of this somehow being your fault weighed on you. There'd been so many deaths, so many infected, it just seemed like everyone was ticking away until there'd be no one left. He absentmindedly placed a hand on your arm in an attempt to calm you.

"Hey, hey," he said your name, pulling your eyes to his. "This isn't your fault. This isn't on you. He made his choices. That's on him, not on you."

You interjected–but, maybe I should have–but he pressed on, sternly. "Listen to me. If I hadn't done what I'd done, you wouldn't be standing here right now. It was either you or him, and I'd be damned if it was him." His tone softened. An orange glow emanated through the window behind him, curfew coming in a couple hours. "I know people like that. They'll prey on you, and you're too sweet to see it."

Joel didn't care for much of anything in this world. But the line in his forehead told you that somehow he cared for you.

"You could have been killed, Joel," you said shakily. "They could still hang you if they found out."

His jaw flexed. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat if it meant not letting that fucker touch you."

Something inside you sparked at his words and, without thinking, a hand reached up to take hold of the collar on his flannel, pulling him down to you. He hesitated, that ever present scowl forming on his face, but you knew better and pushed yourself up on your toes. Eyes never breaking contact, your lips brushed over his, a silent invitation.

His eyebrows creased, grappling between what he wanted to do and what he should do. You were delicate and quite possibly one of the last good people in this fucked up world, and he was a bad man. His thumb drew a line across your lips, their sheen drying on his thumb.

"It's getting late," he whispered.

"Yeah? Seems like I'm in the safest place I could be right now." Your smirk told him that you had him there. Fingers drew a line up his arm to his firm bicep, waiting for any telltale sign that you shouldn't be here. "It's ok, Joel."

Your words were so quiet, he almost didn't hear it with how bad his ear had been lately. But the look he gave told you he had. His other hand drew up, framing your face in his rough palms, and he captured your mouth with his. He wanted to be delicate with you, but he was not a delicate man, and when a low guttural moan escaped you, he knew he was fucked.

His hands trailed down before settling on your ass. Lifting up, your legs wrapped around his torso, arms around his neck, and his whiskers tickled your lips.

"Fuck, girl," he grunted. "Do you know what you're doing?"

You snickered, feeling the length of him pressed against you while he carried you to his bed of worn sheets and old blankets. Leaning in, you whispered in his ear, "Gonna show you how sweet I can be."

The air went out of him in a short huff and he set you down on the bed. He stilled as he took you in. There weren't many good moments in this world anymore, few that he cared to remember or cherish. But watching you lay there, waiting for him, it was a memory he'd hold onto when things got rough, when he ever felt lonely.

His chest heaved in anticipation as you reached up and pulled off your shirt, the same lacy black bra he'd seen before.

"Oh, you know exactly what you're doing," he mumbled and, grabbing hold of your ankles, slid you down to the edge. His arms caged around your head and he leaned in, a serious expression on his face. "You sure about this?"

You nodded, the anticipation causing you to tremble slightly.

"You gonna be a good girl for me and take off those pants?" That slow Texas drawl was as sweet as honey, and you moved maybe a little too quickly to unbutton your jeans, shimmying them down.

He chuckled to himself, thrilled to see how eager you were. Truth be told, it had been hard to connect with anyone after the outbreak. It was hard to trust, hard to hold onto anyone, hard to fucking relax. But, with Joel, you felt safe.

He pulled at the ankle of your jeans, slipping them off, then hooked a thumb through the waistband of your underwear. There was a confidence in his actions as he slipped them off and pocketed them. Dropping to his knees, you lifted up on your forearms, watching him with curiosity. It was a struggle to take his time, but he trailed some delicate kisses up your thigh before his mouth consumed your cunt. Head thrown back, you echoed an animalistic moan when he gripped onto your hips to keep you close.

"So fuckin' sweet," he mumbled, the whiskers of his beard tickling you in all the best ways. His tongue lapped rhythmically, making your toes start to twitch in rhythm. You gasped his name, running your fingers through his graying hair, gripping it when he found a special sweet spot.

"Right there," you choked out, holding onto your breath while he made you see stars. He dipped a finger in while swirling your sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue, then added a second. His fingers slid in and out, making you start to shake.

"Come on, sweet girl," he coaxed. "I know you're close."

Thighs gripping around his head, that final release caused you to moan and shudder and shake uncontrollably, not having let go that much since before the outbreak.

It was dark and hazy in his room, the only light from a crescent moon reflecting off him when he sat up and crawled toward you. His eyes were hungry with a desire that was not yet satisfied. You bit at your bottom lip, anticipating what he would do next.

"You doing ok sweet girl?"

"Yeah."

"Good," he said as he hovered over you. "Turn over."

Your eyes grew wide, but he didn't have to tell you twice. You rolled on your stomach and felt as he trailed kisses down your spine. The metal of his leather belt clanged as he unbuckled it, then the quick whine of his zipper.

"Come 'ere," he said as he gripped onto your hips and lifted you to your knees. You knew what he wanted and you tilted your back down and ass up higher.

"Like that?" you asked, feigning innocence. Joel tried to keep his composure, but you were too fucking much for him and he knew he wouldn't last long.

"Good girl," he choked out, gripping himself before sliding into you with ease. Your soaking cunt sucked him in effortlessly, and a chorused moan resounded through the room. You may have already cum once tonight, but by the way his cock stretched you, it was inevitable you'd cum a second time.

"Joel," you whispered over and over again as he thrust into you. There was no easing in or getting used to his size, he was past controlling himself to go gently. His movements were ragged, rough, needy.

Your pussy clenched around him, so close to that second release. He gripped onto you harder and pulled you up to him.

"Touch yourself," he drawled, and you reached down to rub at your clit. His mouth went to your ear, whispering, "I want you to cum on my cock."

You moaned in response, his hands roaming to your breasts while he thrusted.

It only took a few more pumps before you started to quiver, your head thrown against his shoulder in ecstasy. When he knew you were down from your high, he pulled out, him cum warm as it shot on your back and ass.

You laid on your stomach, fully spent and satisfied, while he searched for a towel to clean you up. Eyes closing while he wiped up his mess, you wondered if he had just marked his territory. Either way, you knew you were his.

[soda-gremlin]

The Newer Thea Sisters Books Aren’t as Good as the Older Ones, and Here’s Why

Yes yes, I know I am beating a dead horse here, but I have noticed quite a few patterns when it comes to the newer books, specifically why I don’t like them. So here is my comprehensive list of traits that make the newer books so lackluster.

1. No Continuity

And no, I am not simply referring to small details, like the name of a celebrity that has already been established. What I am referring to, is both the lack of reference to previous books even when relevant, and the complete absence of background knowledge. Let me explain.

So, y’all have read Mystery on the Orient Express, right? If you haven’t, major spoilers ahead. The villains turn out to be a set of identical twins, Dimitri and Leon. But first, before discovering that fact, the Thea Sisters had to tangle with the conundrum of Dimitri’s hand, and why the burn kept disappearing and reappearing. It took them quite a bit of time to work that out because, well, they’d never seen that before. And they’re still new to mystery-solving.

However, in a later book, (spoilers for Phantom of the Orchestra) they are confused by a character named John’s seemingly contradictory behavior, like greeting them like old friends one minute, and acting like they never met the next minute. But here’s the thing. They’ve seen this before, in Mystery of the Orient Express. That shouldn’t have been a huge twist. They shouldn’t have taken that long to figure that out, because they’ve seen it before.

Need another example? So, a common trope in the newer books is that one of the side characters aiding them mysteriously goes missing. Then it turns out, they were kidnapped/led away. It happens almost every single time. Riddle of the Ruins, Niagara Splash, you get the idea. But every single time, the girls dick around like, “Oh no, I wonder where John Doe could have POSSIBLY went” GIRLIEPOPS. THIS AINT YOUR FIRST RODEO. YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS.

I get it, they want the series to be episodic and all that, but when it’s actively hurting the story’s writing, and when quite a few readers have read previous books, it ends up detrimental instead of convenient.

2. The Forgettable Side Characters

Have any of you read the Mouseford series, or the graphic novels? If you have, you’re probably familiar with Vanilla (Ruby), Vic (Ryder), Shen, Craig, Tanya (Tanja), and Dina (Elly). All pretty well-established side characters, some even making an appearance in the beginning of the original series’ books.

Clearly, they have a very diverse cast of side characters in their roster. Shen being a sweet, bookish nerd, Craig being a himbo jock, Vic being a chaotic neutral rich boy, Vanilla being your average spoiled rich girl, you get the idea.

So I bet they bring one along on the girls’ adventures to spice up the story, right? Bringing in a fresh new perspective on the story’s events and a refreshing deviation in recurring character dynamics, while also expanding on the side characters themselves. Right?

WRONG

Instead, they make up a character to use as a plot device. I hesitate to even call them characters, because they have no personality. They’re all the same cookie cutter cardboard cutouts again and again. Especially the new male characters.

Can you tell me a SINGLE unique trait about Didier, Ioannis, Mateo, or Akhun?

Can you even tell me which books they’re from?

Of course you can’t! You probably don’t even remember they existed! (Unless they’re your blorbo, in that case, you have my sympathies…)

So instead of using the more interesting and established side characters from Mouseford, they just stick in a plot device of a character and call it a day.

In the older books, the new characters were memorable. Take Ashvin for example, aka, the only character’s name in this category I didn’t have to look up. He had an actual character. He was impulsive, reckless, but had a strong moral code. Contrast that to the new books’ Forgettable Twink #12.

3. Less Emphasis on Culture

This section will be shorter, due to me not really being any of these cultures, and being American, but I still think it’s worth covering.

The idea of the Thea Sisters exploring new countries and cultures is not new. I’d wager that’s the very purpose of the books, to expand the worldviews of impressionable children.

However, in the newer books, it feels a lot more shallow. As in, “a leaflet you got at an airport” shallow. They just barely scrape the surface, and call it a day. Only covering well known foods and internationally known traditions/practices. It’s like if Cherry Blossom Adventure only had the Thea Sisters eating sushi and learning about ninjas or origami. It does that country a massive disservice, especially if you’re native, or even if you’ve just lived there.

This is due to the newer books having the girls see the country through the eyes of a tourist rather than getting immersed in the life of a local.

Take Mountain of Fire for example, they are thrust headfirst into Nicky’s home country. They’re not put up in a hotel in the touristy part of the country, they’re in Nicky’s ranch, experiencing the wildlife, as well as what it’s like to live so far from the city. They see the natural wonders of Australia, as well as learning from the Aboriginal peoples living around the area, including Nicky’s family.

4. Boring Conflict

This one is pretty straightforward. The conflicts in the newer books feel so boring, almost sanitized in a way. There are no real stakes. In the older books, there were many consequences laid out if the villain succeeded. An important link to a dying art would have been lost, the livelihood of Pam’s family business would have been compromised, and not to mention, PEOPLE COULD HAVE DIED.

But now it’s like, “Oh nooo, a single piece from a model is missing, and it’s gonna lose the contest, whatever shall we do 🥺🥺 It’s not like we can recreate it or anything”

There is nothing compelling about the conflicts or its villains. We have no reason to be at the edge of our seats like with Mystery of the Orient Express, where Pam and Nicky LITERALLY CLIMB ON TOP OF A TRAIN TO CATCH THE THIEF BEFORE HE CAN GET AWAY

But now it just feels like a fetch quest of clues, and a wild goose chase for good measure. And just lot of fapping about in general.

I also have to bring up villains. They’re having the same issue as the side characters. They’re all the same greedy, shifty characters that are so obviously up to something.

Final Thoughts

I think all of these flaws can basically boil down to the fact that every book feels like the same story, over and over again, just with different names. (There are some exceptions, but my point still stands)

And just one more note I have is that, I wish the Thea Sisters got more personality to them. Like, I wish they acted like an actual friend group, not like how kids shows love portraying friend groups. Which is a group of girls all nice to each other all the damn time. There’s no depth, there’s no added dynamics that make the friend group feel real. The dialogue is all so flat. I need banter, I need inside jokes, I need playful jabs at one another, I need each sister having a different relationship with one another. We don’t want perfect, we want interesting. (But this isn’t exclusively a newer book issue, so I didn’t put it in the main list)

Aaaannndddd that’s about all I’ve got for you today! Hope you enjoyed this little rant/analysis!!

[senshis-tenshi]

Eilidh [ˈe.lɪ] ; Gaelic name meaning "Radiant One".

【 Eilidh or Ellie ; Soju (for close friends) ⋆ she/her ⋆ biromantic & fictosexual 】

This is my Self Ship and Comfort Blog ! I mainly post F/O related thoughts, gushing, imagines, and occasionally Hyperfixation related stuff !

⤷ Dating Senshi of Izganda since June 2024 🍽️

More about my S/I's species !

Other F/Os include (but are not limited to) ⤷ Varric Tethras (Dragon Age) ➸ Jan. 2022 ; ⤷ Cassandra Pentaghast (Dragon Age) ➸ Aug. 2022 ; ⤷ Nathan Explosion (Metalocalypse) ➸ Oct. 2023 ; ⤷ Wamuu (Jojo's Bizarre Adventure) ➸ May 2024 ; ⤷ Immortan Joe (Mad Max) ➸ June 2024 ; ⤷ Thistle (Dungeon Meshi) ➸ August 2024 ; (platonic) ⤷ Nux (Mad Max) ➸ August 2024 ;

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If you're uncomfortable sharing, I'm not mad if you block me or avoid me! But please be respectful, there is a human being behind this blog. Thank you !! :3

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✧ Senshi‘s Tag -> 🍽 - full stomach; full heart ✧ Thistle's Tag -> 🎭 - i put a spell on you ✧ Varric‘s Tag -> 📚 - terrible romance novel ✧ Cassandra‘s Tag -> ⚔️ - knight in shining armor ✧ Nathan‘s Tag -> 🌊 - deep as the sea ✧ Wamuu’s Tag -> 🍃 - a leaf in the wind ✧ Joe’s Tag -> 🛞 - shiniest of treasures ✧ Nux’ Tag -> 🔧- eyes like a car crash

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✧ oc tag / muffin time -> Eilidh the Endosiren (Dungeon Meshi S/I) ✧ oc tag / clipped wings -> Valorin (Dungeon Meshi OC) ✧ oc tag / kobold energy -> Sheedo Ferai (Dungeon Meshi OC) ✧ oc tag / banished quasiroyal -> Delmira Aeducan (Dragon Age OC) ✧ oc tag / lemon cheesecake -> Sharron Hawke (Dragon Age OC) ✧ oc tag / death angel -> Elysea Cadash (Dragon Age S/I) ✧ oc tag / hero in distress -> Velastino Lavellan (Dragon Age OC) ✧ oc tag / roaring tides -> Elise Navidad (Metalocalypse S/I) ✧ oc tag / golden cage -> Chantilly Hausner (JJBA OC) ✧ oc tag / unwithering weed -> Damna Moore / Passion Fingers (Mad Max OC) ✧ oc tag / stained porcelain -> Emmelin the Grateful (Mad Max OC)

I self ship as a coping mechanism and as a result of maladaptive daydreaming! I'm on the AuDHD spectrum, I have BPD and a somatic symptom disorder <- Perhaps misdiagnosed???

Things I enjoy: Repetitive Tasks, RPGs and Simulators, Writing and Drawing (occasionally), Animal Crossing, Sylvanian Families / Calico Critters, Sanrio (Hello Kitty and Kuromi in particular), soft and gooey textures, pink things, cleaning, chocolate, coffee, stormy weather, horror movies and games, playing with my cats and caring for my snails Currently fixated on: Dragon Age Series; Dungeon Meshi ; Mad Max: Fury Road + Furiosa Special Interests: Psychology, Medicine, Snails, Names, Herbs and Spices, Horror Movies (Body Horror, Survival Horror)

I refuse to participate in any kind of discourse. I steer away from drama if I can. I don't mind if you participate in discourse as long as you don't drag me into it !

I don‘t have a DNI per se, but I would rather not have supporters of any hateful ideology follow me (racism, homophobia, biphobia, fatphobia, ableism, etc...). I would also prefer you to be 18+ ; since I'm over 18 myself. But if you're not, it's no biggie and I don't want you gone, just stay safe out there ♥

I'm very extroverted and I love, love, love making new friends, so if you want to talk to me or just show me a cool rock you found - please do!! If we're mutuals, we're friends now and I'm handing you one of my snails like a sandwich if you want that /aff ✧ Discord︱peachflavored_marshmallow ✧ Instagram | citrus_soju

See you!🍀

header and dividers by @/saradika. faceclaim is Emu Otori from Project Sekai. last updated 28/10/2024.