#honestly a lot of this is stuff i've been sitting on for a long time...

[deltaruminations]

thinking back to the idea of parallel instruments again: you have piano for kris and gaster, guitar for susie and dess, and music box for noelle and possibly asriel. kris:susie:noelle::gaster:dess:asriel

we could read a certain amount of parallelism in the personality traits, or possibly even the theoretical archetypes, for these characters. susie and dess might be similarly rebellious, tomboyish, and protective -- we could call these "hero" traits, in the sense of a young, plucky RPG protagonist. noelle and asriel might be similarly sweet, sensitive, and accommodating -- possibly "love interest" traits.

kris and gaster are harder to compare, given the lack of real insight into one or both personalities... though we could argue that this, itself, is a parallel. we can at least hazard a guess that kris and gaster are alike in being quiet, serious, opaque, maybe a bit "dark." we could maybe lump mischief in there, too. could we call that a bit "villain-coded"? not that kris (or gaster) is, in fact, a literal villain -- but that they have qualities one might see in a classic villain (how Byronic... lol...). it's never entirely clear what they're intending, or whether they can fully be trusted not to turn on us.

there's also the matter of cohorts and relationships. setting aside gaster for a moment: kris, susie, and noelle represent the current cohort of teens; dess and asriel are from the "previous" cohort of teens, now young adults. the latter two are both currently "missing" from the story -- asriel being away at college, dess having disappeared entirely. we can infer that dess and asriel are involved in some amount of story-relevant, pre-canon history. we might even get a sense here of something being repeated -- similar roles, new cast of teens. susie and noelle's relationship trajectory, and its priority in the narrative, might parallel dess and asriel's, as hinted by dess wearing his jacket. kris is very close to susie; we could say that susie, at this point, is kris's best friend, and likely the closest friend they've made in a long time. we can also hazard a guess, from context clues, that they have romantic feelings for susie that, due to factors beyond their control, they're unable to express or act on effectively.

so... like... what happens when we put gaster back into it? if we solve for x, if we follow the parallelism to its conclusion... what could this mean for him? sans does have at least one younger brother, name currently unknown, who isn't currently present in the story, who we might meet around the time asriel comes home...

[greyedian]

.

[inkskinned]

no, actually, where is the whimsy?

my ex had a best friend named larry who asked me once: what do you think comes after irony?

we were at the bar where larry worked. it was a quiet night, and he'd hopped over to sit with us on the patron side. i swirled the lemon around my limoncello martini.

earnest positivity, i said, while my ex said, art self-destructs.

i stared at my ex. he stared at me.

his argument was the cinemasins argument: look how bad media is becoming! look at the loopholes and the dumb shit!

it was roughly 2011. galaxy print was still in. at the time, i had a favorite shirt that was a wolf howling at the moon. it got ripped in half in the wash and i honestly still mourn it. i dressed like effie stonem, because everyone did. and irony was the name of the thing. men liked MLP "ironically." the internet liked the kind of crass, "anti-mainstream" vibes of things like fuck romance, touch my butt and buy me pizza. we put cats in sunglasses everywhere, which was because we only liked things in irony.

and media had the same vibe in it: anti-hero white men would be "hard to love" and then storm off the scene. nobody was just earnestly trying to save the world: they were jaded, angry, unoriginal. mad you even asked them to try to help.

my ex ends up not being wrong. cinemasins becomes super popular. a lot of people start viewing media with this lens that is the cruelest, most jaded depiction. it's wrong for your character to have unexplained powers, even if the entire movie is about how strange it is she has unexplained powers - that is still considered a "loophole." characters make thoughtless, panicked choices? loophole. characters are actually kind people, despite hardship? loophole. features a woman doing literally anything without assistance? loophole. movies become hyper-aware of scrutiny, and now irony rules the media.

which means you go to a movie, and the character has to turn to the screen and say "beats me!!" or one of the side characters has to have some kind of quip like "are you seriously telling me that you think this is normal?" because nothing can happen in earnest. like a sitcom laugh track, we now anticipate the fourth-wall break: the moment that the media acknowledges it is telling a story. the media has to apologize for itself, or else someone like my ex rolls their eyes.

but here's the thing: i wasn't wrong either.

the difference might be that i am (and always have been) so soft-hearted that any crack in the light of this world will spear me into the ground. and i was the poet in the relationship. (he thought that was the same thing as being naïve and stupid). i was making things daily. i knew how all of us artists are driven by some strange desire to evolve. he notably liked to critique art, not to create it.

so yes, i've made things that are bitter and angry and even ironic. i've made long, sharp poems with all capital letters, and i've made poems about how the silence stretches out like a song. someone wrote once that we will spend our whole lives just circling the place we grew up. i think it's more that we spend our whole lives trying to remake a home. i think it's that as we age, it becomes less exciting to build the castle on the beach - we become aware of erosion, of windforce. we realize what we really want is to come home to our dog, castle or not.

and while art in the foreground is mired in white male violence and irony, and aggression, and not taking anything seriously - i don't think that's true of all art. i think more and more artists are leaning in to the things we love. the world has changed so much. they have taken so many things from us. the only thing we have left is love. at the bottom of the moving box - all we get is the faint sense that we have to appreciate what little we've got. i can't enjoy this stuff ironically anymore: what room do i have for irony? if it makes me happy, that is an amazing thing. there are so few happy places left for me. i want to be happy because of how leaves shiver beside each other like nestling birds. i want to be happy because of the color pink, and how magenta doesn't exist. i have spent so much of this life suffering, i have earned my right to a gentle ending. if nothing matters, i get to assign meaning to the nothing. i get to create meaning. i am an artist first and foremost, which means creation is my thing.

where is the whimsy? wherever i fucking put it. because if this is my last fucking chance to do any good in this world - i want to do it earnestly. i want to write things that make you happy. that make people feel heard and seen. what comes after irony has to be positivity.

it was close to my 21st birthday. in 7 years, i would end up writing a book about this relationship, which is hopefully coming out somewhere around May 2024. i come back to this bar scene in my memories a lot. i keep thinking of how pale my ex was. the look that crossed his face. how i looked back at him. how for a moment, both of us couldn't recognize the other person. like the gulf between us was a suddenly wide and cavernous thing. like we were alien to each other. he never took my opinion seriously, and he always seemed surprised whenever his manic-pixie-dream-girl ever broke free of the plot. like in the whole time we were together, i wasn't human enough.

this knowledge: where he said nothing comes after, my only instinct was what comes after is love.

[hairmetal666]

No one knows who writes the Hawkins High Tattler. It comes out every week, without fail, has for almost two decades. Everyone reads it, even teachers, even parents. It's caused more the one suspension, grounding, and even--famously--a shipping off to boarding school.

Steve's never let the Tattler get to him much. He's in it, of course, practically a new story every week. But it's just silly gossip.

Of course, Steve is also, currently, the titular Tattler, so. It's not like he's surprised when his name shows up.

It's his third year, his last year, and he knows everything that ever goes on at Hawkins High. It's pretty easy, honestly. Everyone thinks he's ditzy and vapid; nothing more than hairspray and polos. People will say anything around him, assuming he's not listening or not interested, and then bam. It's in next week's Tattler. No one even suspects him.

The confessions locker probably helps. Down by the theater, busted and unusable, the perfect place for people to leave tips, to tattle on their friends (or enemies, as the case may be).

That's what he's doing right now, checking the confessions locker. After 9:30 on a Friday night, the place silent as the tomb, perfect time for it. Pretty standard fare this week. The only thing of interest is that Eddie Munson was the person who broke all Ms. Click's pencils and left the stubs on her desk. This one, he laughs at, can't wait to publish it; can't wait to talk to Munson about it.

He gets a lot of stuff about Eddie. Most of it he doesn't publish because it's bullshit about satanic rituals--the nerdy kids he babysits play dnd, and there's no way Karen Wheeler is letting anything satanic happen in her basement--or about his sexuality, and one thing Steve doesn't do is out people.

Gathering up this week's submissions, he closes the locker with a soft clink, and he swears, swears he hears the squeak of a tennis shoe on the polished tile of the floor. He freezes, heart in his throat. Nobody has been here this late before.

Seconds pass but there's only silence. Confident he's only hearing things, he heads out, the parking lot just as empty as when he arrived.

---

He sees Eddie a few days later, when he's picking up the kids from the arcade. They typically exchange casual greetings, but as Steve waits, Eddie stands with him, offers him a cigarette.

"Read that was you who messed with Click's pencils. Good one."

Eddie shrugs, gives a little bow and a smile. "Happy to be of service."

"It was my class, when she found them. Never seen her so mad."

"No way," Eddie laughs. "Not even when Hagan drew dicks on all the textbooks?"

"Not even then, man. She was throwing pencil stubs everywhere."

"Fuck, sad I missed it." Eddie takes a drag, Steve's eyes following the movement, lingering on his mouth. Something warm and tingling builds at the base of his spine and he forces his gaze away.

"How long you in detention for?"

"I'm not. Swore it wasn't me, and Click doesn't want to admit she reads the Tattler, so. Not much they could do. "

"I've seen it sitting on her desk!"

"I know! She reads it when she has detention duty!"

They lean against Steve's car, laughing, and Steve feels good. This is good. He likes Eddie. He's funny and dramatic and smart and kind. He's not deserving of any of the mean things that get submitted to the Tattler.

The kids come streaming into the parking lot then, and Eddie stubs out his cigarette, says "see you around, Harrington," and Steve finds himself flushing for reasons he can't quite explain.

---

He starts seeing Eddie around way more. He's in school most days, smoking in the parking lot after the last bell, chatting with Steve in the hallways.

It shows up in the Tattler; big news that the King and the Freak are hanging out. Most of the submissions are about it, increasingly elaborate rumors about their supposedly deep, close friendship.

He wishes he could tell Eddie.

Eventually, Eddie invites him to smoke at the quarry. He doesn't hesitate to say yes, doesn't even bother to try ignoring the swoop in his stomach, the speed of his heart.

They sprawl out in the back of the van, Eddie's loud, raucous music pounding around them, sharing a joint back and forth.

Steve gets hazy, boneless, can't stop watching Eddie, the way his lips purse around the joint, his long hair glinting gold in the weak light of the camping lanterns, the pleased shine of his eyes every time he makes Steve laughs.

He likes Eddie so much. Everything about him, honestly. Butterflies ping in his stomach, happy and slow, and he thinks how nice Eddie's lips are, wonders how soft they must be. And he thinks--he's read the submissions, right--he knows the things they say about Eddie, and he wishes it was true, he wants--he wants--

He wants

---

Steve's running late to check the locker. Lost track of time at the diner with Eddie, and it's making him panic.

He stuffs the submissions haphazardly into the pocket of his hoodie, dancing with nerves, willing himself to grab them all and get out.

Locker emptied, he sprints towards the exit. He has a second to process someone barreling towards him in the dark, but he's going too fast to stop, can only brace himself as they collide.

It sends him sliding across the floor, Tattler submissions spilling out of his pocket like snow. He hits the ground, scrabbling for the papers, praying that whoever is here with him can't see them in the low light.

Hands grips his biceps. "Stevie, Steve, we have to get out of here" and there's a second where he's comforted by the familiar rasp of Eddie's voice before terror spikes again.

He pulls himself from Eddie's grasp, searching for any dropped submissions in easy reach. "Wha--why--what's--"

"I ran into Jason Carver and his band of idiots at the gas station. They're on their way to here to try to catch the Tattler in action."

Steve freezes. "I don't--that's not--I--"

In the deep silence of the empty school, they both hear the slamming of a door, a bitten off giggle. Eddie grabs his wrist and they run. Into the theater room, through a door Steve didn't know existed, to the backstage area of the auditorium.

"You should be safe here," Eddie says.

Panic spirals through him. "I can explain. I was just--I forgot a--I needed--"

"Harrington! I know, okay? I already know."

Steve can only blink at him, swallows rough in his throat. "What--Eddie, I--"

"I saw you. Weeks ago. Forgot my notebook in the theater room after Hellfire and had to run back for it. You were there, at the locker."

"You can't tell anyone."

"I'm not going to."

"No, Munson, you really can't. Nobody can know. Nobody--"

"Swe--Stevie, I promise. The secret's safe with me." He rocks back on his heels, chewing on his lip for a second before he continues. " I--I couldn't figure you out, you know? I saw you around with those kids and it didn't make any sense. King Steve, babysitting tiny nerds? But I saw you at the locker and..."

"You're giving me too much credit, man."

"I don't think so. You're never--fuck, Harrington--you're never mean. At least, not in the last couple years. You spread gossip, but you don't punch down, and you're funny as hell. Mean as shit too, but only to the people who deserve it."

His ears burn and he looks down. "Just because I have fucking--fucking editorial standards doesn't mean that I'm anything special."

Eddie scoffs. "Remember, Stevie, I was reading it a year before you were here. Cruel, vapid garbage. Always the most vile, pointless stories about people who couldn't defend themselves. And how many submissions have you gotten about me, for instance, that you've never used?"

Steve clenches his fists. "I would never--"

"I know. Sweetheart, I know. That's why I li--You're so fucking good, Stevie."

He laughs, ears burning. "I'm really not, Eddie. I try to write about fun gossip that can't hurt anyone too much, and nobody's found me out because they think I'm too dumb--"

Eddie reaches out then, fingers connecting softly with the edge of Steve's jaw. He can't help but lean into the touch, eyes flickering closed.

"You don't want to hurt people because you're fucking kind. You know how I know for sure? You must get submissions every week about me, and you've never once printed that I'm--" Eddie stops then, swallowing hard.

Steve's throat goes tight. He rests his hand over Eddie's, still holding his face. "Me too," he whispers. "Kind of. I like--it's both. For me."

"Oh," Eddie breathes, mouth lifting in a bright, beautiful smile that Steve can't help but return.

He's watching, sees when Eddie's gaze drifts his lips, making his breath hitch. He doesn't really think about closing the distance between them, slotting their mouths together in a tentative, gentle kiss.

"You're just full of surprises aren't you, Steve Harrington? Eddie asks when they part.

Steve blushes. "That's sort of the last of them."

"Sure. Next you'll be telling me you've played dnd."

"I have a character."

"What???"

"Human paladin. Dustin worked on it with me. Ready to get out of here?"

"Human paladin," Eddie gapes. "You know--you said--what's happening?"

Steve twines their fingers together, leading Eddie towards the auditorium exit. "Well, first we're going to walk out to my car and then we're going to my house, and we're going to look through Tattler submissions. Maybe makeout a little bit."

Eddie giggles. "What the fuck? Like. What the fuck, sweetheart?"

He turns to face Eddie, smile big and pure and bright with happiness. "If you're really nice to me, I'll let you help write this week's issue."

"Oh, oh. You're going to wreck me." Eddie mumbles, almost to himself.

"If you're lucky." Steve beams.

[clockwayswrites]

Bitty birb in the nest is worth...? Part 19

Masterpost This is going to have many typos and spelling issues, but it currently feels like I've got an ice pick in my temple and my skin hurts so there's no rereading happening atm. Sorry!

-

Danny looked up as Tim Drake-Wayne strode into the lab and closed the door quietly behind himself.

“Tim?”

“Mm-hum?” Tim hummed as he sat down his thermos before he shed his messenger bag, coat, and school jacket onto an open part of desk.

Danny watched on with bemusement. The kid looked half asleep. “Not that it isn’t great to see you again, but what are you doing here, honey?”

“Bruce is on a call running Luthor in circles and then has to talk to legal about some stuff because Luthor is always an ass. We’re supposed to go run an errand and then to dinner together, so I’m stuck here until he’s ready to leave for the day.”

“I’m sorry,” Danny said honestly.

“It’s okay, at least Bruce won’t forget, not like—” Tim shut his mouth with a snap, seemingly suddenly thinking about what he was saying.

“It’s okay, I get it,” Danny said, because he did. “You need somewhere to hide out then?”

“Yeah, it’s… calm here.”

“Okay. Sit wherever you want that’s clear. If you need to move something, let me know first, okay?”

“Thanks,” Tim said, shoulders finally losing some of their tension.

“Of course, whenever you need.”

Not wanting to push Tim in any way, Danny kept a subtle eye on the boy as Tim absently wandered around Danny’s office. To Tim’s credit, he did try to touch anything or move things around, even as he obviously grew increasingly tired.

It would be a lot, Danny supposed, to be a teen ager trying to live up to the legacy of two important families in the area, learn the business, go to school, and (hopefully) also spend time with friends. Danny knew how hard it had been only having Phantom as an obligation.

While, sure, Danny wished Tim had made chosen a less neck cramping spot, he was happy to see Tim finally settle down and seemingly fall asleep… under one of Danny’s work benches. Danny couldn’t fuss too much, he’d done that plenty in grad school himself. Once Tim seemed properly asleep, Danny got up to fetch his cardigan from the hook by the door and took it to drape over the sleeping kid. Tim let a little huffed breath of air before he snuggled further into the cardigan and settled back into sleep.

It made Danny’s heart melt in a way that he didn’t want to think too hard about.

It really was no surprise when about forty-five minutes later one Bruce Wayne poked his head into Danny’s office. The door was hardly open when Danny had his finger up and over his mouth in the universal sign of ‘shush’.

Bruce titled his head curiously. Danny gave a little nod of his head towards the workbench that Tim was sleeping under. Silently, Bruce moved to the work bench and crouched down next to it. There was a soft, amused sound before Bruce reached out to brush his hand over Tim’s forehead, as if habitually checking for a fever.

When Bruce returned to where Danny was working, he asked softly, “How long has he been asleep?”

“A little over a half hour. It took him about ten minutes to settle in,” Danny answered, voice equally quiet.

“Then do you mind if I let him keep resting for another fifteen minutes or so? He’s likely to wake up on his own then.”

Danny shook his head. “Nope, let the kid rest. He seems like he needs it.”

Bruce glanced at Tim, his expression that soft sort of worried only parents seemed to get. “He does. He works too hard at… everything. He’s always trying to prove himself even when he doesn’t need to anymore.”

Danny made a little questioning noise as he got back to fiddling with the annoyingly tiny screws.

“His parents were… demanding. They had very exacting ideas of what proper high society behavior was,” Bruce explained. “I’m sadly not the best suited at dismantling those ideas either.”

“Ah… well, what do you do that encourages him to be a kid?” Danny asked.

“He skateboards, actually. And he enjoys photography, but even that became a goal what with art competitions at school.”

“Maybe take him and Damian on a mini art vacation? Somewhere pretty. Somewhere where it’s not about judges,” Danny suggested. He finally got the last screw seated so he glanced up at Bruce’s thoughtful face.

“That’s a good idea,” Bruce said. “I’ll start looking at what might work. Thank you.”

“Sure, ideas are kinda what I do,” Danny said and motioned to the office around him with the screwdriver.

Bruce’s answering chuckle was low and warm. “I suppose it is. I hope you’re also not overworking yourself.”

“I’m doing much better,” Danny assured Bruce. “I just needed some rest.”

“Which my children made sure you got. I’m still sorry that they kept you so long on Friday.”

It was Danny’s turn to laugh. “Honestly, I don’t think you really have much control over what they do.”

“No, I really don’t,” Bruce admitted. “But I wouldn’t have them any other way.”

“That’s good; they’re a pretty amazing family,” Danny said with a soft smile. “And if I don’t get to be sorry about falling asleep, you don’t get to be sorry about making me rest.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but deal.”

“I am a master business man,” Danny teased and ducked his head to hide his smile.

“I’ll have to watch for corporate take overs. Keep an eye on the stocks and papers.”

“Maybe. Oh, speaking of… Well, not speaking of but sort of related? You know, I was joking about us making the papers.”

Bruce hummed curiously so Danny set aside his tools to pull up the story that several coworkers had sent him on his table. He spun it to face Bruce. The picture of them in the box was big on the screen. They were pressed almost chest to chest with Bruce’s arms around Danny. It certainly looked incriminating.

“Well shit,” Bruce said with a sigh. He picked up the tablet to scan through the article. There wasn’t anything in it, of course, just wild speculation. “I hope you haven’t been harassed about this by anyone.”

“I don’t think anyone knows who I am to harass me,” Danny said honestly. “Some coworkers have sent me it, but apparently it’s just my luck to have both randomly run into a Wayne and be invited to an event and have one of my ‘spells’ when I’m around them.”

Bruce looked at him with one well manicured brow raised. “You have interesting luck.”

“Yep. It’s been quite a life so far. I was pretty much born into interesting luck and life has really lived up to that luck and died by it,” Danny said with a little chuckle as he took his tablet back.

“I feel concerned by that last part.”

Danny hummed in question, distracted by pulling his notes back up.

“The having died by the luck part.”

“Oh.” Danny smiled, but he knew that expression was less than a happy one. “I think I mentioned that there was an accident when I was a kid?”

Bruce nodded and lean his elbows on the work bench and crosses his arms. “You did. One that is apparently still affecting your pulse to this day.”

“Yes, well,” Danny glanced away from Bruce. Why was it still so hard to talk about. “When I was fourteen, I was electrocuted at at an… industrial level of voltage. Unsurprisingly it killed me. And hey, obviously I came back! But that sort of thing sticks around.”

“I’m sorry.”

Danny looked back at Bruce, honestly startled. In all this time, Danny wasn’t sure if he’d ever heard a ‘I’m sorry’ about his accident, not without strings attached. His lips quirked into a smile again. This one felt more pleasant. “Thanks. Trust me though, I’m grateful that life has, had been calmer.”

Whatever Bruce was going to say to that was cut off by a loud yawn, the sound of someone shifting around, and then the unmistakable bang of a limb against the metal legs of one of the workbenches.

Quiet cussing followed a moment later.

“You okay there, Tim?” Danny asked.

“Fine,” Tim hissed back.

“I’m sure I have an instant icepack in my office. We can grab one before we leave,” Bruce said.

“B?” Tim asked, voice noticeably brighter. A moment later he appeared out from under the desk.

“Hi, sweetheart, sorry that I had to take that call,” Bruce said as he stepped over to Tim. He reached out to brush the teen’s hair a little straighter.

“It’s fine, it’s Lex, I get it.”

“I know you get it, but that doesn’t mean it has to be fine.”

Tim just shrugged. The action made him notice the the cardigan draped over his shoulders. A little blush rose on his cheeks as he took it off and handed it back to Danny. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for Tim, you weren’t any problem,” Danny assured him. “You’re welcome in my office whenever.”

“You’re going to regret that,” Tim said.

Danny just shrugged with a smile.

“Come on, chum, let’s go find that icepack. We’ll still get to your store before it closes,” Bruce said and started to guide Tim out by the shoulder.

Bruce glanced behind him and Danny gave a little wave to the retreating Waynes.

His luck indeed.

-

“What happened in Danny’s office that’s bothering you?” Tim asked. He had the icepack pressed against his elbow and was sitting almost sideways so that he could take in all of Bruce’s expression.

Bruce was doing that thing where he was feeling big, complicated emotions and wishing he wasn’t. Tim could read it in the way that Bruce’s shoulders were set, that little bit of tightening under his eyes, and the way he was very purposefully not frowning.

“B,” Tim pressed.

Bruce sighed, the sound all of his air. “I think we should leave Danny alone, both as Waynes and as Bats.”

Tim jolted and scrambled to sit up further. “Wait, what? Bruce, what happened?”

“Nothing bad,” Bruce assured Tim. “Nothing bad happened. Vicky got a picture of Danny and I at the ballet. We spoke some about it and Danny talked about how he had interesting luck. He said he was grateful that life has been calmer; he had to change that to had.”

“…oh.”

“It’s just that—”

“No, you’re right. I’ll try to talk to the others about it because you know they won’t listen to you about it.”

“I’m sorry, Tim.”

“It’s fine, I get it.”

[goingdownondaisuke]

Girrrrl pls write more mouth washing headcannons like you just did 🙏🙏 truly you are a good writer and I enjoy your posts (I saw your intro and happy belated birthday!!)

thank you so much anonny!! so sweet :) i honestly love you for this request bc that means i can ramble on and on and be super unserious 👅 i'll section this off into two, nsfw and sfw!! (adding the read more link bc this is long!)

(reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns)

୨⎯ sfw ⎯ ୧

anya ۶ৎ

strikes me heavily as the "stay at home and rot" typa gal

and she's so real for that!!!

dates w her would definitely consist of little picnics, sitting by the lake and having deep talks, stargazing, pottery, library dates, all that good stuff >0<

she's totally slavic

i can't exactly put my finger on it but she gives russian/polish

will def give you nicknames in her one of those! (im not listing any bc im gonna be so embarrassed if i butcher my own language 😭)

if you're good at it, she loves when you braid her hair or do it up in fancy styles, she'll wear it for literally the rest of the day

LOVES seeing you all dressed up

like if you have a job that requires you to dress formally, and you walk out that bathroom with a dress shirt and slacks on??? ur gonna be a little late for work

she makes GREAT pasta dishes

vodka pasta, shrimp/chicken alfredo, mac n cheese, lasagna, gnocchi, YUMM

likes baking as well, but isnt very good

the most impressive thing she's ever made was chocolate chunk cookies that had literal pockets of gooey chocolate

can you tell im hungry

she's toned asl

loves the gym!

i feel like she dresses modestly for the most part in public but at home she'll wear crop tops and teeny shorts

definitely the type of person to give great advice but never use it

likes your voice, will say whatever to get you to talk (even better if you're someone who just talks and talks and talks) (me)

very comforting to talk to

WOULD NEVER JUDGE YOU OMG

you almost ran someone over? we've all been there!!

you actually ran someone over? why were they jaywalking??!

they died on the spot? ...get the boat.

i feel like she displays all of the love languages

but her main one would be words of affection i think

calls you love, dear, darling, all that sappy mush

wife!!!!!

curly ۶ৎ

ever since i've read what the devs said abt him liking snow sports i genuinely cannot stop imagining this guy skiing or snowboarding w you LMAO

but besides his love for that, he likes summery sports as well!!

like surfing, volleyball, badminton, tennis, golf, etc

dont take this in a weird way but i rlly just see him as the sugar daddy type

like yes he's your significant other BUT he's a good-looking man who looks a bit older, so if you look a lot younger than him then yeah ppl are gonna raise an eyebrow

but they have the right to bc every time you two go out he buys you something expensiveee

showers you in jewelery

he loves the beach!! (same)

definitely the type to massage sunscreen on you EWWWW (im kicking my feet)

he likes to give you massages in general, those strong ass hands be at WORK!!!!

my friend said he looks german and i can't get it out my mind, pls gimme opinions bc i totally agree 😭

sosososo nice and friendly and caring

loves taking you out on cruises, swanky resorts, michelin-star restaurants, the works

and if you like to workout he takes you on gym dates

my favourite

sometimes when he doesn't feel like going he'll just use you as a weight lol

likes randomly lifting you up

loves to listen to you ramble while he's cooking

good at cooking!!

calls you darling, princess, baby, beautiful

gentleman!!!

daisuke ۶ৎ

dream gen z bf

has a skincare routine he does with you every night

and if you arent there with him in person he'll facetime/video call you so he can "make sure you're doing all the right steps"

(he just wants to admire your LETHAL face card)

pothead >0<

this man takes you on dates GALORE

the arcade, thrifting, the mall, walmart (if they in walmart together they fucking RAW /ref), go karts, amusement parks, the beach, more i can't think of

likes when you do his makeup/give him a full glam makeover, it's so fun to him

lots of piercings

you HAVE to have a good relationship with his parents (saw this somewhere on ao3!)

has HUNDREDS of pictures of you in his gallery

has pics of you sleeping, cooking, walking, eating, watching tv, doing work, drinking, just existing

the type of mf to take like a thousand pictures of himself if you leave your phone around him

his love language is 100% physical touch and sending sappy ass tiktoks/instagram reels/everything else

LIVES ON SOCIAL MEDIA

he totally has like a fashion acct and it's just him trying on clothes and giving reviews

he has an impressive following!!

omg speaking of fashion, THIS MAN.

he's not like wisdom kaye level (one of his biggest inspos) but he can DRESSS

he'd totally judge you for wearing like socks and sandals or something utterly unacceptable

"girl. take those ripped skinny jeans OFF."

kinda like swansea is, i can see him being a sneakerhead (no i am not projecting)

calls you babe, dude, pretty girl if he's feeling freaky

jimmy ۶ৎ

he's such a pos i need him so fucking bad

he tries to clean up for you

shaves more, wears cheap cologne, tries to keep his home as clean as possible (which...isn't very clean)

is EXTREMELY dependent on you, esp if you're well off

loves getting high with you

off of VARIOUS substances 😭

mostly powder or acid but you two will shoot up from time to time

you've bailed him out of jail several times

committing crime dates!!! like

oh and yk eating out (at mcdonalds off the dollar menu), road trips (in his rusty ass truck), facetime/videocalls (his phone is so fucked up, his internet is horrible, and his camera quality is disgusting) whatever

hes so pathetic but he loves you so so so much

even if he doesn't display it like a normal person

his love language is definitely physical touch and words of affirmation

because that's all he can afford

very jealous, the two of you got into an argument once bc he thought you were looking at curly

tries to keep him away from you as much as possible

dont hate me for this but he definitely abuses his partners

psychologically, physical, verbally, sexually

but i dont care we love you jimmy!!

tbh most of the headcanons i have for him are nsfw, hence why this list is so short

im sorry!!!

swansea ۶ৎ

now THIS is a sugar daddy

(he's not technically bc you don't use him for money) (you better not.)

anyway!!!

he absolutely LOVES to take you out on fancy dates

likes travelling!!!

i can see him being a big fan of italy, germany, thailand, the bahamas

(psa: guys once before you die you HAVE to go to the bahamas omg its so freaking lovely and the locals are very very sweet :) )

oh he definitely enjoys a leisurely game of golf

he's such a sweetheart like he'll make you breakfast in bed and cook you a romantic candle-lit dinner and give you back massages and urghh

gives THE most insightful advice

actually super smart, will help you with any college work you have

his strong suits are math and science!

very good at cooking, devs themselves said he makes a mean paella!

i can see him being rlly good at cooking cultural food

like dont let this man make butter chicken or pad thai 👅 it will be GONE.

he admires you very often! you're so beautiful!! yes you!!!

he really likes it when you cuddle him

like aww imagine he's just watching something on his macbook and then here you come curling up next to him

AWWW I LOVE HIM

he's not super affectionate himself but if he notices it makes you happy then he'll try to show you that he loves you more physically

his love language is gift giving/quality time

having long talks with you is a must, especially when you are tuckered and all snuggled in your bed, and the tv's on but you aren't paying attention to the plotless show because you're too focused on listening to each others life stories, revealing little bits of lessons you've learned and why the way you are

ily swansea

୨⎯ nsfw ⎯ ୧

anya ۶ৎ

very gentle

unless she's like super into it then she'll start gripping your thighs or tonguing you down more intensely

she def watches porn when you aren't around and imagines the actors are you and her

but only the amateur lesbian type. that produced shit makes her cringe and uncomfortable

lots of toys!!1!=1

has the softest cutest moans

isn't particularly loud in bed, the loudest you'll get from her is a long, shaky whimper

loves giving head!!!

she literally has a fucking waterpark like she gets SO wet

not the easiest to turn on, which is why sex is uber intimate and precious to and with her

she's very sensitive and he orgasms are intense

also doesn't have the best stamina, will go literally two rounds before she's knocked tf out

PILLOW TALK

ughh she can't keep her lips off of you

even when you two aren't making love she's always kissing you somewhere

do NOT let her get a hold of a strap-on.

her stroke game is so freaking good like where does she get the experience??!

she likes your tits, her hands are always on them even in non-sexual situations

no matter their shape and size, she thinks they were sculpted by the gods

she thinks you were sculpted by the gods!!!

if you're super loud in bed then you're in luck bc she can't get enough!! she cant!!

she only initiates if you two are laying down, she'll wrap her arm around you and kiss your jaw

then she'll ask "is this okay?"

HELL YEA

curly ۶ৎ

oh man

he's 100% the type to put you in the most absurd positions

one i think about him doing all the time is like he'll be standing and he'll be drilling into you while you're UPSIDE DOWN

he's such a gentle giant, if you like it rough you'll have to beg him to stop being so nice

makes the hottest noises when you give him head

aughh he'd totally shut his eyes and keep a hand tangled in your hair and curse under his breath and buck his hips

when he initiates, it's always by lovingly running his big hands up and down your waist and pressing tender kisses to your neck while he whispers "i love you" and "so beautiful" in your ear

ooh that'll do it!!

you trying to initiate though? literally just kiss his neck and all of a sudden you're on your back

you call him "grant" when things start to get hot

like imagine moaning "curly"

doesnt watch any porn whatsoever

if he's horny and alone he'll just pleasure himself thinking about you

very very romantic, don't let this man find out it's valentine's day or your birthday or ANY holiday for that matter

like yk those tiktoks where someone is showing off a hotel room that their spouse decorated all romantically for their birthday, and then it cuts to the morning after and everything is all messed up after a few rounds?

YEAH THATS CURLY

for the love of god PLEASE SIT ON HIS FACE

likes risky/public sex

definitely part of the mile high club

loves fucking you in the kitchen

he seems like the type to grope you

but in a 'husbandly' way

like before he leaves for work he'll kiss you and smack your rear

or while you're cooking dinner he'll just squeeze your tits/ass

he loves ur ass!! i see him as an ass man

LMAO ASS MAN

good stamina, can go a FEW rounds

he will ALWAYS let you come first. no exceptions except for when you're sucking him off

he's so fucking good at giving head it's genuinely unbelievable

he likes his nipples played with

guys i NEED you to hear me out on this, he'd eat your ass/he likes anal

BUT LIKE ONLY IF YOU WANTED

but c'monnn don't tell me he wouldn't spit on it and get it real wet before slipping it in

daisuke ۶ৎ

THE freak of mouthwashing

canonically he's always horny lol

other ppl say he'd be a virgin but i cant see it 😭 he been to all those parties and he looks that good, are you sure he didn't get him some?!

watched a shit ton of porn before you two got together

and lemme tell you

HE DOES NOT DISCRIMINATE

big ass, petite, goth, ebony, asian, latina, blonde, brunette, bbw, interracial, WHATEVER.

enough of that

he's soooo noisy and sensitive like it doesn't make ANY sense

ESPECIALLY from head like he'll be gripping the bed/couch and moaning like a girl into the air and his thighs will be twitching and-

loves to edge himself

like if you're sucking him off and he's close, he'll tug your head off of him and take a breather before letting you do your thing again

LOVES recording you

literally i can see him downloading snapchat for the sole purpose of the 'my eyes only' feature

he's absolutely down for anything you wanna do

he would let you peg him tbh

gives super sloppy head

like it's not bad but he's just so eager and excited to please you that he gets kinda carried away

his tongue piercing feels so good

he noticed how much you loved it so he bought a vibrating one

literally wants sex like everyday and his stamina is insane

GENUINELY he can go all night

worships tf outta you

he is so obsessed w you and loves you so much like pls ride his face

dry humping is a lost art and he is bringing it BACK

he's like a fucking dog he's so noisy and messy and sloppy and horny and ugh

i love him so much he's literally me

jimmy ۶ৎ

extremely rough

like hardcore shit

he will actually choke you until you pass out and then fuck your unconscious body

same with whenever you go down on him, he hold you there until he feels your body go limp and then fuck your face

he loves getting head so fucking much

he has lots of...philias

i REFUSE to name any of them pls

intense groper

complete disregards the idea of consent

he's gonna take what he wants, whenever he wants it

and im okay w that!! 😻

wakes you up with head every morning

has a super high sex drive

the littlest, stupidest things turn him on

you spilled water on yourself? he's hard. you burnt your hand from super hot tap water and yelped? he's hard. he sees you cry? he's hard.

his stroke game is actually insane

if his goal was to make you finish (it's typically not) he'd succeed in a very short amount of time

he likes anal and he doesn't care if you like it either

ugh he doesn't even lube you up correctly

he just spits on it and goes on

he loves when you mark him up

leaves insane hickeys like that mf will look like you got SOCKED

he totally bites...just look at him

has sickkkk fantasies and expects you to mold yourself to all of them

likes torturing you for no reason whatsoever

he has a bunch of whips and paddles

something i always imagine him doing is coming home from a long day of work, pulling down his pants the minute that he sees you, and just going at it

swansea ۶ৎ

he would spank you

just to get that out the way

like if you're pissing him off he'll tell you to bend over his lap and he'll strike your ass until it's flushed red and tears are streaming down your face

but it's okay because then he'll kiss you all over and fuck you oh so nicely after

he's kind of but not really the brat tamer type

ehhh

as i said before: pussy slapping, face slapping, clit pinching GALORE >0<

kinda mean

like a mixture of praise and degradation

he likes when you spread your legs wide for him

sex drive is not high whatsoever

i mean he's like 50

neither is his stamina 😣 but he gives it to you super good

he usually just lets you ride his thigh or has a snack between your legs

he's so good at fingering

like imagine just sitting on his lap writhing around while two thick fingers are plunging into you and two more are rubbing tight, fast circles on your clit

loves kissing you during the act, he knows it makes you feel good

loveeess seeing you squirt/cream

he loves your moans as well, they're so cute to him and they're letting him know that he's doing a good job pleasuring his baby

he honestly believes that his job as your partner is to please you as much as possible

and he does that

girthy as FUCK

doesn't make a lot of noise

but when he's close he'll grunt quite a bit

another position i imagine he likes is one where you're lying on your side and your leg is in the air, and he has a grip on it while he fucks the shit outta you ahhh

after the deed you two will lay down and simply make out while his hands roam your body

that's how it starts sometimes too!!!

[loudclan-clangen]

The song “Beautiful Little Fool” for Fiercestripe? Because I am not getting over her death. Listened to it and she was the first character to pop into my head.

You’re so right!

YES! Please do, I would love to see it!

The boring answer is that I've been drawing cats for a VERY long time. I think since I was 8 they have been the majority of what I drew. The less boring answer is you know the movie Spirit? It changed my life. It had a bonus video where one of the artists taught you how to draw Spirit himself and it was the singular thing that inspired me to start drawing (more likely possessed me). I think I must have been about two the first time I saw it because I cannot remember a time before I had that video memorized. I would spend hours sitting in front of that video (which was only like 10-15 minutes long) with a stack of papers just fully focused on perfectly following his instructions. I still think about that video to this day. Every time I draw legs the voice of James Baxter echoes through my mind. I don't know if that translates to why my cats are so beefy, I own a cat who is quite chonky, so that might contruibute to it, but now you have a fun fact about me regardless!

All of the heirs are chosen based on birth order! Whoever is born first gets to be heir. I personally find that making strict rules about stuff makes playing the game a lot easier for me, I find it stressful to try to pick a "good heir" when I don't know what's going to happen later in the game so to limit that I just let it be completely out of my hands. 2. The game rolled for Songpaw to become a medicine cat! I would have changed it if he was an only kit or probably if I had known that Dashpaw was gonna die, cause I was really stressed about losing my run at that point, but I do my best to write a story that makes the game make sense rather than change what the game gives me when possible. I think it helps me to not have much of a story in mind while I play, just noting down events and thoughts and then going back and piecing it all together afterwards. That way nothing can "go wrong". 3. "Heir-hood" only applies to the leaders. There is no expectation that Cavepaw will become a healer. When Weed dies that position will be open until someone wishes to volunteer for it. 4. Honestly I don't really know. This might spoil a little bit, of tension, but I truly never had that happen. I was SUPER worried about it and did a lot to make sure it wouldn't, but after a couple of generations you get to a point where almost everyone is descended from a leader at somepoint. (And also everyone is second cousins with each other but you know what there are some problems that you just have to live with.) I image the clan would look for an omen and just pick a new leader based off of that and start the process all over again. In my experience worst comes to worst just make sure you have a very accurate family tree and trace it back a couple of generations.

Thank you so much! I don't play with any mods for Loudclan, I'm too scared to lose saves to less than stable code. My favorite mod currently is Kori's Awoogen though! I just like to look at the beautiful art mostly. I use mass extinction as population control, so I turn it on and off based on how many cats I have. Two full pages is the upper limit of what I'm willing to deal with, so once a third page opens I turn mass extinction on and after an extinction happens I turn it back off. (also if I dip below 1 full page I turn unknown parents on until I'm back to two pages again). I've found after a couple of generations you can mostly stop worrying about it because the bloodlines have spread so far there's always someone who's a 6th great great cousin or something.

The game generated him Dashpelt! I probably would have picked Dashfoot to stick with the generated them of a boring suffix but to make more sense overall.

[weirdkpopgirl]

Depressed | Dream Reaction #15 (hyung line)

Reaction: when their gf is falls into depression

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Warnings: mentions of reader being depressed, dark thoughts, self-harm, insecurities, all the fun stuff. please do not read if any of these topics trigger you.

Word Count: ~3k

Author's Note: it has been so long since i last posted a reaction for 7dream 😭. honestly i've been running out of ideas for them, so that's why. and i know i've written things with similar topics to this one, but i wanted to write something specifically for depression. the reason for this being that i was struggling a lot recently, but i am doing better now. still, my hope is that i can offer some comfort to those of you who might be experiencing this or something similar. thank you for reading ^ ^

here is the maknae-line version if you'd like to read it!

~ ~ ~

mark 

The faint lights of the city cast fleeting shadows across Mark’s face as his head rested against the window of his manager’s car. His fingers idly scrolled through Instagram to make the time pass a little faster. Absentmindedly, he moved to his message section to look through his friends’ notes. He stopped when he came across yours—  which had “Lonely” by Jonghyun and Taeyeon playing.

Mark frowned, as he listened to the chorus part of the song you had chosen. It gnawed at him, realizing this wasn’t the first time you had picked a gloomy track recently. Over the past few weeks, your song choices had felt like little cries for help, subtle yet piercing. 

Unable to brush it off this time, Mark asked his manager to drop him off at your place instead. His manager shot him a skeptical glance through the rearview mirror. But when he realized through Mark’s concerned expression that this was serious, he allowed Mark to type in your address into the GPS. Your place wasn’t far from their current route anyway.

The car soon pulled up in front of your apartment building. Mark thanked his manager before stepping out, pulling his hood over his head and slipping on a mask to ward off the cold and any unwanted attention. In the three months you and Mark had been together, your secret relationship had managed to stay under the radar—  unnoticed by any news outlets. 

Mark let himself in, a small smile tugging at his lips as he recalled how touched he’d been when you told him the passcode was his birthday. The serene darkness of your apartment greeted him as he pushed the door open and removed his shoes at the entryway. His eyes were immediately drawn to the only visible light from the left side as he turned down the hallway. A soft glow emanated from your bedroom, urging his feet to move instinctively in that direction.

He approached cautiously, peeking inside to find you lying atop your double bed, the navy blue comforter from your childhood spread beneath you. Your purple earbuds were in, and your eyes were fixed on the ceiling with a faraway emptiness in your expression. The absence of the light he was so used to seeing in you twisted his heart.

“(Y/n),” he called out. However, you didn’t notice his presence until he stepped closer to your bedside.

Surprised, you blinked and turned your head toward him. Removing one earbud, you simply looked at him with something deeper than exhaustion.

Mark sat on the edge of your bed. “Are you listening to your sad playlist again?”

You silently handed him your phone, the Spotify screen confirming his suspicions. 92 songs, 6 hours’ worth of Korean music designed to pull you deeper into your somber mood. 

After removing your second earbud and placing it in its charging case, you move to sit up. But Mark gently stopped you, resting a hand on your shoulder before lowering himself onto the bed to lie beside you. Once you were settled in his arms he asked, “Are you okay?”

Half of him expected you to lie and say you were fine. His mind was already running with responses to persuade you to be honest about what you were feeling to him.

The defensive wall that usually kept you guarded wasn’t there tonight. You simply didn’t have the energy to be the strong person you wanted Mark to see.

“No… I’m not,” you whispered, your voice trembling as Mark noticed the tears beginning to well in your eyes.

In a moment of slight panic, he gently cupped the right side of your face, catching the tears before they could fall. “Hey, hey, I’m here. It’s alright. You don’t have to explain right now.”

That was all it took before you buried your face in his chest, his hoodie muffling the quiet sobs that escaped you.

Mark had so much he wanted to say right now. He wanted to reassure you that he’d be there when you were ready to talk, that you didn’t have to push him away when you were hurting, and that you weren’t alone in the storm you felt trapped in.

But for the time being, he held you closer, his hand rubbing small, soothing circles on your back. He could feel your grip on his shirt tighten, a silent plea for comfort. Words could wait.

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆

renjun 

During a ten-minute break called by their choreographer, Renjun pulled out his phone, hoping to see a message from you. Daily texts have become a comforting routine in your relationship. While Renjun didn’t always show it, your little check-ins added more warmth to his life, especially on the colder days. However, your messages have become less frequent lately.

Sitting on the sofa, he started at the most recent text you had sent when he was practicing with the guys. It was brief, a little too brief, considering how cheerful your messages used to be.

| Hope your day is going well. Don’t skip dinner after practice, okay?

No pet names, no emoticons. Not that you used them all the time, but Renjun still noticed the lack of them. Your texts themselves weren't what set off his alarm bells, it was the subtle changes in you. Similar to you, he was also observant and had picked up on your quieter demeanor, the weaker tone in words, and the way your laughter didn’t quite reach your eyes anymore.

Renjun knew you struggled with depression in the past, but you had assured him you were better now. He believed you then, but now… he sensed something had shifted.

A heavy sigh left him as he brushed his hair back with a shaky hand. He wasn’t in the best mental place himself, though he had made significant progress this month, thanks to the support from you and his members. Still, your recent distance was weighing on him, and he knew that he had to confront you about it tonight.

He showed up at your doorstep an hour and a half later, catching you off guard by your boyfriend’s sudden appearance.

“Renjun? I thought you had practice late tonight.”

Hesitating to answer immediately, his eyes locked onto yours for a long moment. Finally, he spoke softly. “Can we talk?”

The vulnerability in his tone instantly made you concerned, and you stepped back to let him inside. 

“Yeah, of course. Are you okay?” you asked, shutting the door behind him as he swapped his shoes for the slippers you kept for him. “Did something happen at practice? Did you get another sasaeng call?”

A rush of mixed emotions swept through Renjun—grateful that you instinctively cared about him, yet saddened that you seemed to prioritize his well-being over your own.

“No, it’s not that. I’m just… worried about you,” he said slowly.

You froze for a moment, then attempted to smile. “What? Jun, there’s no reason to worry about me. I’m–” 

“Please, don’t lie and tell me you’re fine,” he interrupted gently, but firmly. “Not when you’ve been acting differently and avoiding real conversations with me. I know the signs, (Y/n)—  you can’t hide from me.”

The way he called you out made you pause, and your built-up resistance began to dissipate. Renjun knew just how self-aware you were.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you sighed, gesturing for him to sit down. 

Nodding, he followed you into the living room, where the two of you sat on your couch, your knees lightly touching.

Looking into his pretty, earnest eyes, you parted your lips to speak. “The truth is, I haven’t been doing that great. There’s some family stuff that’s been stressing me out lately.”

Renjun listened intently as you finally opened up about your struggles over the past few weeks. When you finished, he reached out for your hand, his eyes brimming with emotion as he fought to hold back tears.

“Love, why did you wait so long to tell me?”

“Because you don’t need this right now,” you explained quietly, your shoulders starting to tremble. “You’re already dealing with so much, Jun. I didn’t want to bring you down even more.”

Renjun gently cupped your hand in both of his, his thumb softly brushing over your knuckles as he looked at you with a mix of concern and tenderness.

“(Y/n),” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I want to be there for you, just like you’ve been for me. You don’t have to carry this alone. I care about you more than anything, and whatever you're going through, we face it together. You don’t have to protect me from your pain. I’m here to share it, all of it.”

His sweet words stirred something deep within you, a warmth that brought tears to your eyes. You blinked them back, swallowing the emotion.

“I love you,” you whispered, making him smile.

He squeezed your hand reassuringly. “I love you too. Please, don’t hide from me. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

For the first time in a while, you smiled back genuinely. He leaned in, kissing you tenderly before resting his forehead against yours. Despite the monsters you and Renjun faced individually, they didn’t seem as scary when you had each other.

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆

jeno

He was so excited when you visited him at the company building. After being apart for so long due to touring, Jeno realized just how much he missed you– texts and video calls just weren’t cutting it for him. 

As soon as he saw his manager let you into the recording studio, he wrapped up his session quickly and efficiently. Though he was a bit drained from the day, his energy instantly shot up at the sight of you. And when he saw the takeout food from his favorite restaurant in your hand, it was the perfect bonus.

Jeno led you to an empty conference room so you could eat together in private. He was so hungry that he practically devoured the food once it was taken out of the bag. 

“You’re amazing, babe,” he said with a mouthful of rice. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

A faint smile spread across your lips as you placed a napkin in front of him. “I think you’d do just fine, Jeno-ssi.”

Your reply made Jeno pause for a moment, his chopsticks hovering mid-air. That’s when he noticed the food was arranged entirely on his side of the table.

“Why aren’t you eating?” He glanced up to ask, knowing you liked this type of food too.

Nonchalantly, you shrugged. “I’m not that hungry.”

Jeno’s brow furrowed, concern beginning to take root. As he thought about it, he realized there were subtle things he had overlooked earlier. You were dressed entirely in black—while it wasn’t unusual for you to wear the color, you typically paired it with something lighter, like white or blue. Your skin seemed a touch paler than usual, and there was a noticeable weariness in your eyes that he hadn’t seen before.

“Have you eaten at all today?” he then asked, his eyes searching yours.

You shrank slightly in the chair, biting your lip because you knew that lying wouldn’t work on him.

Avoiding his gaze, you crossed your arms and murmured, “It’s fine, Jeno. I feel full just watching you eat.” 

“(Y/n)...”

Jeno studied you carefully, searching for the right thing to say. He wasn’t the best at this—  comforting others with words, But he couldn’t just sit here, not when it was clear something was bothering you.

“You remind me of Jaemin sometimes,” he said, after collecting his thoughts. 

Confusion crossed your expression. “Jaemin?”

Jeno nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You know how he’s always taking care of us? Making sure we’re not skipping meals and scolding us when we get sick? But he also skips meals sometimes and catches a cold. He hides that side of him because he doesn’t want to burden us.”

You tilted your head slightly, Jeno’s words sinking in as you frowned. Now that you thought about his best friend from that perspective, your boyfriend was right.

“You do that too,” Jeno continued, leaning forward in his seat. “You care so much about everyone else, but you neglect yourself at the same time. And I know you’re trying to protect me. But (Y/n), you don’t have to.”

He noticed your lower lip tremble as your gaze fell to your lap, a clear sign his words had struck a chord.

“You are so precious, just like Jaemin is to us. So please, don’t feel like you have to hurt alone. I want to know how you’re feeling, babe,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

The first tear slid down her cheek, followed by another, until her shoulders were shaking with silent sobs.

“I’m… I’m just so tired,” you finally admitted, wiping a tear with the back of your palm. “I thought I could handle everything on my own. But…I can’t, Jeno.”

His heart broke at the sight, but he didn’t hesitate for this. He pulled your chair closer to him so he could hug you. Your tears soaked into his shirt as you clung to him.

“It’s okay,” he whispered into your hair. “Cry as much as you need to, I’m here. I won’t leave.”

The weight you’ve been carrying finally gave way, as you cried into his embrace. Jeno held you securely, his chin resting atop your head. He didn’t have all the answers, but one thing was certain—  he wasn’t going to let you face this pain alone. You would face it together, no matter how long it took.

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆

haechan 

He had been watching you all throughout dinner with the Dreamies. Sure, you were the most introverted in the group. But usually, you loosened up a bit now that you were closer to his members. While you weren’t as loud or blunt as he was, you’d still drop a quick-witted remark occasionally, and engage in a conversation with Chenle or Jisung. Yet tonight, you had been unusually quiet. Your contributions were limited to small smiles at the occasional joke, placing a piece of meat in his bowl, and offering vague answers to any questions directed your way.

On the drive home, he broke the silence at the third red light. “Okay, what’s up?”

Your eyes shifted from the passenger window to him. He was still staring straight ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel firmly.

“What do you mean?” you asked, confused by his sudden question.

That’s when he turned his head to meet your gaze with a knowing look. “Come on, (Y/n). You were quiet during dinner, and you’re still quiet now.”

“I’m just a quiet person, Hyuck. You know me,” you replied with a shrug, your tone light as if trying to brush off the topic.

The light turned green, and Haechan pressed the gas pedal, smoothly moving the car forward. “You’re right— I do know you,” he sighed, pulling into a random parking spot on the side of the street.

You looked at him incredulously. “Donghyuck, what are you–”

Before you could finish questioning why he’d pulled over, he unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to face you fully.

“Please talk to me, baby,” he said softly, his tone almost pleading. “I know something’s wrong. I can feel it.”

You let out a laugh, the kind that came instinctively in moments like this as if deflecting the weight of the situation. 

“Nothing’s wrong. I–I’m just tired, Hyuck. That’s all,” you said, reaching out to take his hand in yours.

But his concern didn’t waver. His brows furrowed, his thumb gently stroking your knuckles. “You’re never this quiet unless…” he began, his words trailing off as if hesitant to voice his fears.

“I’m fine, really,” you insisted, the faintest edge of frustration creeping into your tone. “Can you just take me home now?”

When you tried to pull your hand away, he tightened his grip, tugging it gently back.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” 

“Stop pushing me away,” he said. You could see him searching your eyes for the honesty you were hanging onto desperately like a rope.

Your heart stuttered at his stern words, and you couldn’t meet his eyes for a moment. The weight of his unflinching gaze pressed down on you in a way that made it impossible to keep your walls intact.

A defeated sigh escaped you. “Fine, I…I’m not okay. I just didn’t want to worry you.”

Haechan’s lips curved into a small smile. “Hate to break it to you, (Y/n), but as your boyfriend, worrying about you kind of comes with the job. No matter the circumstances.”

The lighthearted tone, paired with the sincerity in his words, made something inside you crack. Before you could stop them, tears began slipping down your cheeks. Haechan noticed immediately, his hand moving to gently lift your chin so your eyes met his.

“I’m sorry… I’ve just been letting my thoughts get to the best of me, and I can’t seem to shut them off,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “It’s stupid, everyone goes through this. That’s why–”

“Stop,” he interjected softly but firmly, his thumb brushing away a tear. “Don’t downplay how you’re feeling. It’s not stupid, and you’re not supposed to just push through it alone. Not when you have me.”

His words carried a weight that made your chest tighten, a reminder that his care was unwavering.

“I know you’re overwhelmed,” he continued, his voice gentle, “but you don’t have to have it all figured out right now. You just have to let me in. Let me help you carry it, baby. That’s what I’m here for.”

The love in his eyes was undeniable, and it struck a chord deep within you. He wasn’t asking for an explanation, a solution, or even for you to fix yourself— just for you to let him be there.

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆

previous masterlist -> current masterlist

[copperbadge]

I've been pretty fortunate that usually my use of medications has been positive, in the sense that I don't often get side effects and the dosage works pretty well from the start. That roulette wheel was probably due for a spin, I guess.

The mental health struggle this year has been a lot, as I think has been probably evident from the blog. It's never been a threat to my safety, but it's been difficult. The Adderall was so initially helpful in sometimes invisible-to-me ways that it allowed me to see where a lot more problems were that couldn't then be unseen. And some of those can't be brute-forced by personality alone.

So, I've been trying clonidine, which is a blood pressure medication that also seems to help some people with ADHD emotionally regulate, particularly with anxiety and RSD. I got a skin patch for the lowest dose extended-release, but it didn't seem to do much other than give me dry mouth, so we just upped the dose this week. Possibly not the most ideal week to mess with meds, between the holiday and the dating stuff, but I didn't think it was a problem.

I'm pretty sure it's acclimation, but I also think my Adderall wore off yesterday just as the upped dose kicked in physically and messed with my blood pressure -- I ended up a bit shaky and nauseated at Thanksgiving, and had a great time as long as I was sitting down, but couldn't eat much and went home early when I got tired. I'm still not feeling super steady this morning but I think it's fading.

And honestly, I had ugly nightmares last night so it could be that, too. I kept dreaming I was being followed and had to run into traffic to escape, then I'd be about to be hit by a car and wake up, and then I'd fall asleep and it'd repeat.

So, it's an odd mix, I had a really great time at Thanksgiving but a rough night, and a rough morning but I'm looking forward to seeing friends at a different event today. I do have some sleep medication (I don't like it much) so I may take some tonight. And I am definitely prescribing myself lots of couch time with the cats this evening.

[churipu]

hii i hope ur midterms r going well !! ive binge read so many of ur work n js wanted to say theyre so amazing (´꒳`) i wanted a request for toji + any other character of ur choice x reader who stays up late n has difficulty sleeping (fluff),, thank u !! 🤍

𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗔𝗠 !

────── 𝕴 . featuring. toji fushiguro x reader

────── 𝕴 . warnings. cursing, and mentions of toji being soft, i love him.

note. hi nonnie! thank you so much, you're too nice to me, and yes, my midterms went well! it's been so long since i've done the requests in my inbox, which is the sole reason to why i have closed my ask box so i could finish them all! although, the next time i open them, i won't accept requests for a bit. sorry for those who have visited my inbox and have waited for a long time for your piece to be done. // anyways, new theme = new layout!

"why aren't you in bed?"

toji's voice came out hoarse — he cleared his throat and approached you, sitting himself on the couch despite his heart caressing his ears, pleading for him to go back inside the bedroom and just lay back down on the bed.

the cotton surface of the couch dipped just as he practically threw himself down on it, holding back a loud yawn. you raised a brow, shoving the spoonful of cereal you mixed with milk five minutes ago, just before toji emerged from your shared room.

small yellow chips of cereal that had grown soggy, seeping in the white tasteless liquid dispersed into a mush inside your mouth. they weren't even solid as they're supposed to be, "can't sleep, you?"

"you weren't there."

old habits die hard. that's how the saying goes, and you undeniably agreed to that. the night is an old friend to you, never did your eyelids felt heavy when you were supposed to be in bed, asleep. it's not healthy, you're killing yourself doing this.

"you're such a baby," you mutter out, staring into space, feeling your eyes slowly dissociate — jaw moving in a slow motion, biting into wet and mush before you swallow them.

"y/n, it's three am, y' can't keep doing this stuff," toji scratches his nape, leaning his head back onto the couch rest.

despite your eyes staring into nothing, you could hear his words pretty well. in fact, toji had repeated the same words countless of times that you found yourself engraving it into your mind, "i know, i can't sleep. i know it's not healthy, if i could stop it, i would."

"you're scooping nothing, y/n."

this time, his statement pulled you back into reality. looking down to see that you were indeed scooping no soggy cereal chip, nor a drop of milk onto your spoon. chuckling out lightly, you stood up and sauntered over to the kitchen, dumping what was left of your cereal pieces into the sink.

"you should go to bed," you tell him, wiping your wet hands onto your shirt — crumpling up the fabric to soak them in the access waterdrops lacing your fingers, "'ts late."

toji scoffs lightly, "shouldn't i be saying that shit to you?"

no mistakes there. you emitted out a soft sigh, "i'm fine, i'll be back in bed in a few . . ." toji raises a brow skeptically. he never forgot the last time you said that, he woke up alone on the bed — and you were wide awake on the couch, watching the morning news.

"hell no. it's two of us or nobody goes back to bed, 'm not kidding." he mutters out, not realizing how harsh his voice came out as.

brows furrowed deeply, he looks at you. your disheveled (h/c) hair going all point in a compass points, the visible dark shade of exhaustion coloring under your eyes — and the light creases on the corner of your beautiful, tired eyes.

"can you not?" you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose; honestly, you can't blame him at all, he's just a worried boyfriend and you were being stubborn.

"can i not what? worry about my own—" he stops mid sentence and shakes his head. toji was never a man of words, he doesn't express his affection to you through words. he's had moments, not a lot, but he's had them.

toji's a man of actions. he thinks that words mean nothing, which you knew, "'m tired, but i can't sleep, okay? i'll just hang out here a few more minutes and i'll come back to bed. you don't have to stay awake just because 'm awake."

"just shut up."

you stare at him, surprised. parting your lips, you try to speak again but toji beats you to it.

"can't i worry about you or something? you're my partner," he said, his then exhausted eyes now fully refreshed. a tinge of frustration coloring his greenish iris.

your eyes darted around for a bit, searching for words to spout out as a reply, "you don't have to worry about me, 'm fine. i promise. so, can you please just go to bed and stop worrying about me?"

"fuck that," he stands up, with heavy footsteps he darted towards you.

his figure grew in your view as he closes the distance between you and him. with a quick motion, he threw you over his shoulder, letting you dangle over his shoulder. at this point, you were too exhausted to even move a limb so you just laid there, not having the cell to even open your mouth.

toji walks over to the bedroom and he sat you down gently on the bed. on most occasions, he would throw you onto the bed playfully — but this was serious. he's pissed, and you're pissed.

"sleep."

you crane your neck upwards, face scrunching into one of annoyance, "i just told you that i can't—"

"try."

shaking your head, you said, "i can't, i've tried."

his finger brushed over your hair, smoothing them back down. he didn't reply to you. frankly, he finds it hard to be in the current position — as a kid, he was taught to never show his weakness. he grew up in a household full of so much hate that he forgot what love is.

here you were. vulnerable, in a weak state that toji has seen a lot before throughout your relationship. if this was anyone else, toji swore he'd tell them to suck it up because life isn't always what they think it ought to be.

but this isn't anyone else, it's you. y/n. the only person toji has showed his own vulnerable sides to — it's like a punch to his gut when he saw a bit of his younger self in you. he had nobody, and nobody had him.

it's different this time, it's not about him anymore. it's about you. you had him, and he had you.

toji inhaled sharply, his large hands slipping underneath your pits as he gently pushes you up. your feet dangled as he then pulled you into him, his right hand traveled onto the hollow of your back — and his left hand prepped your legs around his torso.

you felt like a child, "what're you doing?"

"shut up," he mutters out into the crook of your neck, "just try to get some sleep."

he pressed his lips onto your skin tenderly, making you shudder at the sudden contact — but you liked it. toji didn't stop, with an arm around your waist, and another under your thighs, he held you close to him.

warm and shallow breaths blew onto your skin like warm lights, it didn't tickle, you bury your head into the crook of his neck. copying his actions, "'m sorry."

toji grunted, "for?"

"just . . . everything," you murmur out.

his grip around your waist tightened, "'ts not somethin' to be sorry of, you can't control it. so just try and get some sleep," he muttered out, rocking side to side gently.

a faint smile appeared on your lips as you pulled your head back slightly, "you're too nice to me."

"don't get used to it," toji rolled his eyes.

"i love you too," you planted a kiss onto his lips briefly before returning your head into the crook of his neck, letting him lull you to sleep for the night.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE.

[bunni-v1]

hi! congratulations on 500 followers! could you make the full nsfw alphabet list with Idia please? (sorry for the bad English)

🍓I POSTED!!! I've had this sitting in the drafts for a week and I finally decided to post it (YAY!!!). I've also got Jade's qued up for later today, and I'll be working on Azul and Floyds in my free time (when I get free time that is). Sorry I took so long to post, life has been tough on me and I just didn't have the tools to deal with it. I'll be back and posting irregularly until December when I can actually take time and write again.

Idia NSFW Alphabet!

A = Aftercare: Idia Shroud is the WORST at aftercare, and I say this with so much love and kindness to the walking punching bag that calls himself a man. Genuinely though, sex overstimulates him so badly, so he cannot handle anything after the fact. He’s the kind to roll over off you (more like slide you off him) and fall asleep immediately. Of course, he mumbles out something about it feeling good and all that stuff, but 9 times out of 10 he’s out like a light.

B = Body part: He is a thigh man. He doesn’t care if it's thick and meaty, he just wants to rest his head on it. Maybe give it a nibble, if you’d let him of course (consent is key, even for a dirty Otaku like him). For him… he doesn’t like most things about himself, but if you seem to like something about him a lot, he grows to like it too. So if you like his hair, it’s probably his hair, if you like his lips or teeth it’s them. (What can I say, he’s weak for you).

C = Cum: SALTYYYYY! He doesn’t take care of himself what did you expect. It’s unpleasant to taste, and there’s A LOT of it to taste. It’s a pretty thick consistency and really sticky, fun to play with and watch dribble down your stomach and face. 

D = Dirty secret: He wants you to peg him. I wouldn’t say that’s much of a secret, but he thinks it is. 

E = Experience: NONE. Zip, zero, zilch. I make fun of Malleus for being a Virgin, but IDIA IS A VIRGIN. He’ll blush to hold your hand, it’s that bad. However, he does watch a LOT of Porn (Hentai specifically), so he has… an idea of what to do. He’s really nervous first time around, but once he gets comfortable with you he’s pretty good, just a little unrealistic in his expectations sometimes.

F = Favorite position: Doggy! Especially if you’re wearing cute little puppy or kitty ears! He likes watching the way your back arches, and he’s a big fan of pulling your hair or squeezing your hips. Other than that, he loves face-sitting. Surrounded by your thighs, oh that’s a good death for Idia Shroud.

G = Goofy: Initially, he is entirely on accident. He wants to be serious and cool about it, but he’s like a blushing schoolgirl and making a million mistakes. His line delivery is so… cringe and embarrassing you can’t help but laugh. It humiliates him, but eventually, he learns to just embrace it, and he becomes pretty goofy. He loves cracking jokes just to see you smile, cause the one thing he loves more than your thighs has to be your pretty little smile.

H = Hair: I know it’s blue flames too, I just know it. That shit is not tamed either. Like he trims, but honestly it’s hard to control something that's constantly shifting and changing. And, before you ask, yes it does flare up with his emotions like his hair does too. 

I = Intimacy: Depends… Idia isn’t someone I would ever describe as romantic, but he is a sweetie. He likes it hard and rough so it’s hard to say it’s very romantic, but he does like you close and he loves looking at you. You catch him smiling down at you like you’re some kind of goddess sometimes. You won’t catch him saying cheesy lines like how much he loves you or how pretty you are (cause it will actually kill him if he does).

J = Jack off: Mastrubating champ of NRC. He’s alone in his room 90% of the time with unlimited access to the internet and is also an Otaku. Sorry if you disagree, but you’re wrong. I know he gets off at least once a day, more if he has the time. 

K = Kink: Another biter, he just loves marking you up and sending you off with a pretty bruise for everyone to see. He’s a sadomasochist too, depending on whose topping. He wants you to push him around and hit him, make him feel helpless, it’s his favorite thing. Also into pet play, cosplay, roleplaying, and… any kind of play honestly. The weirder the better for him.

L = Location: His room and his room alone. Maybe yours, but he does not trust anyone in your dorm to respect your privacy. Besides, if he’s in his room he knows where everything is, and he can ensure no one will be getting in and seeing you that way.

M = Motivation: Most things, honestly. Be nice to him? He’s hard. Be mean to him? He’s hard. Beat him in his favorite game and act all smug (he let you win)? He’s hard. Lose and pout about it? He’s hard. He’s a sensitive guy, okay, and he thinks everything you do is super hot. Not his fault.

N = No: Share or let someone watch. Absolute nos from him. The idea of sharing you with someone and you like them more? Hah, he’d kill himself. He’s also not a fan of anyone seeing either of you in such a compromising position. He’s too nervous and possessive to let that out of the privacy of his room. Also, this might be controversial, but I can’t see him being into any kind of sibling shit. Too weird for him, he’d never want to think of his precious little brother like that, so why would he want to think of you like that?

O = Oral: He prefers receiving because watching the way you tease him with your sultry gaze as he sinks impossibly further down your throat is… heavenly. Though he isn’t bad at giving either. His tongue is long and boy can that thing move, it can reach places you didn’t even know were possible. Plus his teeth nipping at your most sensitive areas? Praise the seven, that’s good shit.

P = Pace: Fast and rough. He likes to just go at it, and he doesn’t like to stop for anything. Prepare to be pounded into next week with no stops!

Q = Quickie: He likes them, and they’re pretty common, but they’re not his favorite. When he has sex, he likes going for more than one round, and the whole point of quickies is that they’re quick so he doesn’t prefer them.

R = Risk: Yeah, he’s game to try some more risky things, but he’ll back out so fast if he’s uncomfortable for even a second. There are some things he wouldn’t consider, like bringing it out of his room. He’s a big fan of risky texts though. Like, a video of you fucking yourself in the bathroom while he’s in a meeting with the other housewardens? No one’s gonna know if he takes care of himself quickly. 

S = Stamina: He goes for multiple fast and quick rounds. He can usually do about four of them before he’s done for the night, but he’s willing to keep going if he doesn’t satisfy your needs along with his (sometimes).

T = Toys: He has a collection, actually, of really wild shit. Tentacles, ‘alien’ dicks, and even the infamous horse cock. He likes to put a bullet in you and control it from his room, watching you struggle to talk to your friends on the cameras he’s definitely allowed to have access to. 

U = Unfair: He likes to tease, but he forgets to sometimes lol. He gets so caught up in his own pleasure that, occasionally, he’ll just forget he wanted to tease you and make you all sensitive and whiny. He also likes to be teased, so please feel free to torture him when you’re topping <3

V = Volume: He tries very hard to be quiet, but bless his soul he is not. He’s so whiny and whimpery and pathetic, it’s very cute. He wants you to make as much noise as possible so that he can hide his shame, but he’ll still cry into your ear since he can’t contain himself.

W = Wild card: He sometimes prints out the pictures you send to him (with permission) and keeps them in his desk. There’s no real reason why, because he has all of them digitally, but something about having physical pictures is more thrilling to him.

X = X-ray: Hehehe, oh Idia. It is long and it is thick, bless his dad’s genetics. I’m talking like almost seven inches big, like… he’s big. It’s veiny, with one really prominent one on the top that runs from the base to just below his tip. Which, by the way, is blue like his lips. 

Y = Yearning: High, if that wasn’t made obvious before. He craves sex a lot, and it only seems to get worse after he gets with you. You’re just so pretty and perfect he can’t help it <3Z = Zzz: I said it at the start, but it’s near immediate. He gets tired easily after all that physical exertion, he just wants to nap and cuddle, you can clean up in the morning. Let him hold you :(

[elliezato]

❀˙⋆Summer With You⋆˙❀

Pairing: Ellie x Reader

-Modern au!

Summary: You and your friends decide to rent out a cabin on the beach over the summer. This was your last summer before leaving for college, so you wanted to make it memorable. This summer was going to be perfect. You spent your days in the water, taking In the moments in the sun with your friends.

It didn't take long for you to realize your feelings for your best friend Ellie.

The way her wet hair drips down her shoulders as she gets out of the water. The way her fingers strum the guitar as you gather around the fire. The way the stars light her eyes during late night swims. The way her smile grows when she’s with her girlfriend… It's all too much.

Will these feelings ruin your friendship and the whole summer? What will happen when it's time to leave Ellie behind for college?

Word Count: 4.4k

⋆˚✿˖°

a/n: Im back!! I've been in the summer mood recently and I just need to be laying out by the lake rn. I recently read "SYNS" by carmellie and was inspired to make this! I've really been wanting to write a slow burn, angst fic so I hope this turns out good.

I will probably split this story into a few parts depending on how long I want this to be.

This will be my first real fic because honestly I've only written smut in the past and I'm not sure if I like writing stuff like that. I might add a little bit of it every now and then in my stories but it's not something I want to continue to write.

Anyway, I'm super exited for this story! Please give me ideas for future chapters! I love to hear feedback on how to improve or what you guys like.

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

Packing your bag was the only thing you weren't looking forward to doing on this trip. You always over packed and struggled to fit everything in your bags. Clothes and shoes were thrown all over your room as you pick out what you should pack. This trip is going to be 2 months long so you need enough clothes to last through the summer but not too much that your car will be over flowing.

"Eww, do not bring that" Dina says in disgust as you hold up an old one piece bathing suit from freshmen year.

You knew she was right, but you didn't have many options when It came to bathing suits. You packed it anyway, along with some other suits from the previous summer. The sun shined through your window, lighting up the room. It was almost noon and you needed to leave soon. The drive to the cabin would take the majority of the day so there wasn't much time to waste.

Dina helped you load your car with your bags. There wasn't a lot of room in the trunk but you two made it work. You slam the truck shut, making sure it wouldn't pop open from all the clothes. Your parents hug you goodbye in your drive way as you and Dina get ready to leave.

You get into your car and put the top of your convertible down. The breeze felt nice in your hair as you drove off. Music plays as you sing your heart out. This was going to be a good trip, you could feel it. Dina pulls out her digital camera and snaps a pic of you driving as your hair blows in the wind. Your sun glasses reflect the trees lining the road.

It's been a long time since you've been on a nice trip. Let alone with all your friends. Nerves start to build as you get closer to the cabin. Ellie and Jesse were supposed to meet you there. Recently it's been awkward with Ellie. Usually you two could talk for hours and spend every second together but things have been different.

⋆˚✿˖°

You noticed this sudden shift in your friendship during one of your sleepovers a few months ago. Ellie was sitting on the floor of your bedroom while you were getting ready for bed. She starts going on a rant about this girl she's been thinking about asking out. You don't know what happened but in that moment you felt this strange rage fill in your heart.

Ellie has always been open about girls she finds attractive but she's never made any moves. The thought of your best friend dating another girl upset you for some reason. You've never felt this before and decided to just let it go.

"She so pretty y/n! Like I really think I'm going to make my move" Ellie scrolls on her phone as she talks to you.

You look into the mirror while washing the rest of the soap off your face. "Go for it Els, you could probably pull anyone"

"Yeah, I know" Ellie says sarcastically, now putting down her phone.

She walks over to you and meets your gaze in the reflection on the bathroom mirror. Your eyes revert down to the counter. For some reason you felt your body tremble as she got closer. You couldn't understand why you were acting like this. You've known Ellie your whole life and never saw her as anything other than your best friend.

She picks up her toothbrush and you leave the bathroom. You lay in bed waiting for Ellie to finish in the bathroom. She noticed the sudden change in your demeanor. After a few minutes your friend turns off the lights and lays nexts to you in bed.

"You ok?" Ellie turns to look at you. Her hand rubs up and down your arm.

"Yeah, Im just tired" You lied. You were wide awake but the thoughts of Ellie swarmed your mind.

Things have been like this ever since then. Every time you guys hung out, you two always end up in awkward situations. You hated the fact that things felt like this. You almost convinced yourself that maybe your friendship isn't as strong and it use to be. Maybe you two are drifing apart. You prayed that this wasn't the case but it was the only logical way to explain the distance between you two.

⋆˚✿˖°

"Can we pull over? I have to pee and Im starving" Dina throws her head back into the seat.

"Yeah, I need to get gas anyway" You pull into a gas station and Dina runs in as you follow shortly behind her.

The area was very unfamiliar. There wasn't many people around. You walk inside the convince store and pick out a few snacks and your friend finishes up in the bathroom. You look over to pick out what you want and see a package of watermelon sour patch kids. These were Ellie's favorite. You guys use to walk to the gas station when you were younger and eat these on the curb in the summer heat.

You pick up two bags, one for yourself and one to give Ellie when you see her later tonight. Dina grabs her snacks and you pay. You quickly fill up your tank and get back onto the road. You put the top of your conferable back up now that it's getting darker and the air is cooling down.

The rest of the drive was quiet. Dina slept as you listed to music softly. Superache by Conan filled the car as your mind thought about Ellie. She was all you could think about for the rest of the drive. You were excited to see her, hoping she felt the same.

A few hours later you pull into the driveway of the cabin. You looked at the familiar car already in front of you.

"It looks like they're already here" You nudge Dina, trying to wake her.

You text the group chat, letting your friends know you arrived. As you get out of the car to help unload all your bags you hear your name being called out from a small distance. You look up and see Ellie and Jesse walking towards you to greet you and help with the bags.

"Y/N!! You guys took long enough." Ellie pulls you into a tight hug and then turns to Dina to welcome her.

Your eyes were glued to Ellie. She was dressed in a pair of jorts that ended a few inches above her knees. Her shirt displayed the album cover of her favorite band she took you to see last semester. She wore her old converse that probably need to be replaced sometime soon.

You guys walk into the cabin with all the bags. It was beautiful. Trees surround the land and fireflies lit up every now and then around the house. You could see a glimpse of the ocean from the front. You walk into the cabin and place your bags onto the floor.

"You guys have to see the view!" Ellie grabs your wrist to bring you to the backyard.

Dina and Jesse followed as Ellie opened the backdoor for everyone. As she opened the door you were met with the view of the beach in the distance. Lanterns lit the path leading down to a fire pit. Lights were strung across the yard, lighting up every inch. You closed your eyes and listened to the waves crashing in the distance and the bugs humming from the trees.

"Holy shit. This is insane!" Your eyes light up thinking about all the memories that are about to be made here.

"Lets go down to the beach!" Jesse says as he's already sprinting down to the sand.

"I'll be there in a minute, Im going to change into a bathing suit." You begin to walk back inside until you feel a tug on your arm.

"Come onnnn!" Ellie drags you down to the beach with everyone else.

There wasn't anyone on the beach. It was more of a reserved area for residents only. You kick off your shoes as you stumble down to the water. You watch as your friends run into the waves laughing and taking in the moment. Ellie looks over at you from the water smiling, motioning you to come in. You roll your eyes and walk into the water. It was oddly warm. You cringe at the fact you're still dressed in your clothes from the drive here.

You suddenly gasp as you feel yourself getting pushed into the water. "Hey!" You sit as waves crash over you.

Ellie looks down at you and laughs but it doesn't last long before Jesse pushes her in. "What the fuck!"

You're now laughing at the sight of her drenched in the water. She grabs your hand and helps you up as you two are now dripping wet. You look up and notice how bright the stars are here. Back home you can barely see the stars. The city isn't the best place for star gazing. You can feel your body start to shiver.

The wet cloths that cling to your body get colder by each second. Ellie notices and pulls you close. "Lets go back up and change"

You take your bag of clothes and bring it it your room. Your eyes widen when you realize the room you were sharing with Ellie only has one bed. You don't understand why you're in shock. You've shared a bed with Ellie many times in your life but for some reason you felt weird about it.

"Nice right?" She says as she walks past you into the room.

The room was nice. It was open and had big windows looking out to the ocean. You place your bags down next to the bed and pull out a pair of pjs. You feel her eyes on you as you walk to the bathroom to shower and change for the night.

You take your time getting unready. Turing on the shower as you slip out of your wet clothes. The water is hot and feels nice against your shivering skin. Fingers run through your scalp as you wash out the salty water, tasting it on your lips as it washes over your face.

You dry off your body and put on fresh clothes. You throw your wet hair up into a towel as you wash your face. As you exit the bathroom you notice Ellie is no longer in the room. You walk downstairs to the kitchen to see all your friends sitting at the island laughing.

"Were ordered pizza, I hope that's fine" Dina says smiling, then returning to her conversation

"Im literally starving, I could fuck up some pizza right now" You say as you sit and join them at the island.

"I think Cat is going to join us for a week. She's supposed to be here next Saturday" Ellie looks at you waiting for a reaction.

You immediately feel a frown forming on your face. You hated Cat. You hated how she practically stole Ellie from you, and now she's coming on your trip!? Ever since Ellie made her move on Cat they've been inseparable. She never referred to Cat as her girlfriend but you knew it was coming. The way Ellie looks at her. It hurts. You figured it was just because she doesn't spend all her time with you anymore. Maybe you're just jealous that Ellie's time is being taken up by someone else.

You were looking forward to spending time with Ellie on this trip and now she's inventing Cat? You felt your heart drop at the thought of Ellie spending the next week with her.

"That's exciting" You say as you force a smile but it's clear your upset.

Suddenly there's a knock at the door. "That's probably the pizza" Jesse gets up and walks to the front door.

You make your way over to the living room with a box of pizza in your hands. You place the box down on the coffee table next to the other boxes. Ellie hands you a glass of water as she takes a seat next to you on the couch.

"What movie are we watching?" You feel Ellie's body shift next to you as she grabs the remote to scroll through the options.

"Want to rewatch Bottoms? I don't think Dina or Jesse have seen it yet."

"YES!" She searches up the movie and hits rent without any hesitation.

⋆˚✿˖°

The night was nice. You rested your head on Ellies shoulder as you watch the movie. The boxes of pizza are practically empty except for the left over crust from Ellie that she refuses to eat. The movie was almost over and you could feel your eyes getting tired. You've already seen this move a million times so you decided to go ahead and go to bed.

"Where are you going" Ellie looks up at you as you remove yourself from her arms.

"Im going to head up to bed. Im tired from driving all day. I'll see you guys in the morning" You smile and say goodnight to Jesse and Dina.

"Okay, goodnight! I'll be up there right when the movie ends." She gives you a soft smile in return.

The bed was comfortable. It was easy to get settled in as you wait for Ellie's presence. Your eyes close as you wait for her. You could feel yourself drifting off until you hear the sound of the door opening. Your body turns towards the door and you open your eyes to see Ellie walking into the room.

"Sorry, did I wake you up" She quietly closes the door.

"No, I was still up." You watch as she pulls out her toothbrush from her bag and walks to the bathroom.

She eventually joins you in bed. Her body was close. You could feel her settling into the mattress. The widow was slightly open, allowing the sound of the waves crashing to fill the room. The fan kept the room at a cool temperature as you pull the covers higher up your body.

"Do you like Cat" Ellie breaks the silence and turns to face you in the bed waiting for a response.

Her face was close. You could feel her gentle breath on your cheeks as she waited for you to answer. You knew you couldn't tell her the truth. She's your best friend. There's no reason for you dislike Cat, but you did, but you couldn't tell her that.

"Yeah. Why?" Your response was cold and blunt.

"You just always change the subject when I bring her up or you just seem to always get upset." She frowns. "I just really want you to like her because I think I'm going to make things official with her."

You almost was to cry when you hear those words come out of her mouth. Your heart aches. You knew this was coming but you prayed it wouldn't happen. You wished things would fall through between them. You hated that you felt this way. You wanted Ellie to be happy. You really did but you've been letting your emotions get in the way.

"Do whatever you want Ellie" You turn to face the opposite way. You didn't mean for your response to come out as harsh as it did, but it was too late.

"This is exactly what I was talking about. I don't understand why you're being like this" Her voice is harsh. "Ever since I told you about Cat you've been so distant. I don't know why you're being like this but clearly you need space."

You feel her get up from the bed. "Where are you going?" You sit up and look at her.

"Giving you space. You obviously are upset with me and I don't know why." She gets up and leaves the room.

You lay back down on your back as the tears that formed in your eyes begin to fall down your cheeks. Her words stung but she was right. You feel bad for being so short with Ellie, she doesn't deserve it. Your whole life you and Ellie have been so close. You told each other everything. The reason your friendship is changing was because of you.

After tossing and turning in the empty bed for a while you look over at your bag and see the candy you bought for Ellie but forgot to give her. You decide to get up and find her, still feeling bad about earlier. The room was dark and hard to navigate but you found the door. You walk downstairs to see Ellie laying on the couch. She's wrapped up in a small blanket, sleeping softly. You sit on the edge of the couch and look at her with a feeling of guilt settling in your stomach.

"y/n?" She slowly opens her eyes and looks at you.

"Im sorry Els." You look at her with damp eyes. "Im sorry I've been so distant and I'm sorry for being rude." You wipe your tears trying to gain composer.

Ellie sits up and wraps her arms around you, bringing you close to her body. She wipes your tears as she holds you. "Stop crying. Im not mad at you, Im just confused."

"I know and Im sorry" You rest your head on her chest.

You eventually lay down on the couch with her. There isn't too much room but you make it work. Your bodies press against each other as you close your eyes. Her arms are wrapped around your waist, still trying to calm you down. You quickly fall asleep, feeling that your friendship is returning to what it once was.

⋆˚✿˖°

You wake up alone on the couch, hearing chatter from the kitchen. Sitting up and looking over you see your friends making breakfast. The air smells of salt and pancakes.

"Look who's finally up" Jesse says teasingly as he flips a pancake.

"You hungry?" Ellie asks as she holds up a plate of food she had already prepared for you.

You get up from the couch and sit at the table. The kitchen had huge windows that had the perfect view on the backyard and the beach. The cabin was so pretty during the day. The sunlight lit up the whole house. You look up as you see Ellie placing a plate in front of you. She sits down and joins you for breakfast.

"Do you have any plans in mind for today" She looks up at you as she takes a bite of pineapple.

"I really want to explore this area and go to the beach." You smile at her as you spread the butter on your pancakes.

You put on your bathing suit and then some shorts over as a coverup. The weather was hot but not humid. There was nice breeze outside. There were a bunch of beach bikes on the side of the cabin for guest so you and your friends decided to explore on them.

Wind blew through your hair as you rode down the dirt paths from the cabin to the nearest sidewalk. Music played through Ellie's speakers as you rode. You eventually came across a small beach town with restaurants and shops. There were people walking through with friends and family enjoying the start of summer break.

You tied your bikes to a post and decided to walk around. "This place is so cute!" You take out you phone to take some pictures.

Dina points out a small local coffee shop and starts walking towards it. You guys enter the shop and order coffees to start your morning. Ellie wasn't a huge coffee person so she got a refresher.

"Els you need to try this!" You hand her your drink waiting for her to take a sip.

"No thanks. I really don't like coffee" She pushes your drink away.

"Seriously Ellie, its so good, you have to try it" You push your cup back into her hands.

She hands you her drink so you can try it as she takes a sip of your coffee. "This is disgusting!" She cringes as the taste of coffee lingers in her mouth.

She takes her drink back and washes out the bitter taste of coffee from her mouth. The coffee wasn't even strong, it was mostly washed out with a sugary creamer. You laugh watching Ellie's reaction to the coffee and took it back from her hands.

The town was small so it didn't take long to explore it. You guys planned on trying every restaurant here over the summer. The breeze from the ocean felt nice. The air smelt of salt and coffee.

You and your friends got back onto your bikes and rode down to the beach. The weather was starting to get warmer as noon approached. You set you bike up again the beach entrance and step onto the sand. You take off your shoes and toss them into your bag and walk down to the water. Ellie follows shortly behind and sits down on the towel that Dina places on the warm sand.

You join Ellie on the towel as Dina and Jesse head towards the water. "Im sorry about last night, I was just tired. I don't even remember why I was upset." You say looking at Ellie as she takes a sip of her drink.

"Y/n, it's really ok, I'm not mad. I just want us to go back to how we use to be" She admits as she meets your gaze.

"Me too" You smile and rest your head on her shoulder as you watch your friends splashing each other in the waves.

⋆˚✿˖°

The first week was perfect. You spent your days at the beach and cooking out in the backyard of the cabin. Jesse and Ellie set up hammocks in the back, so you guys could star gaze and talk until the sun starts to rise. Things were going better than you imagined. Your relationship with Ellie was better than ever. You two did everyone together.

"Cats going to be here in a few minutes!" Ellie impatiently checks her phone waiting for Cat's arrival text.

You sit at the island finishing your breakfast. The windows were open, allowing the fresh air to calm you down. You've been dreading this since Ellie first brought up the fact that Cat was even visiting. The thought of Ellie spending all her time with Cat made you sick. You didn't want to lash out again so you kept your feelings to yourself.

A ding from Ellie's phone interrupted your conversation followed by a loud knock at the door. "She's here!" Ellie jumped from her seat and walked over to the front door.

Cat stood at the entrance with her bag. She was dressed in shorts and a tank top with an opened button down on top. You took in the image of Ellie's face lighting up as she looked Cat up and down. You watched as she pulled her into a tight hug. Ellie leaded her into the kitchen with everyone else.

"Hi guys! Thanks for letting me stay for a few days" She smiles and then looks at you.

You return the smile but its obvious you're annoyed. Cat takes the hint and turns back too Ellie. They walk upstairs so she could put up her bags.

Dina looks over at you with a frown. "You ok y/n?"

"Yeah... why?" You look at her with a confused and saddened expression.

Dina caught on to your feelings for Ellie a long time ago. You've never admitted to them because honestly you never thought of Ellie in that way. At least not until recently. It's all been so confusing.

"She's only going to be here for five days, it'll go by fast" Dina tries to reassure you but it just makes things worse.

"I know, I think we'll have fun. And Ellie's happy" You try to convince your friends you're ok, and maybe you're trying to convince yourself too.

Ellie returns downstairs with Cats hand in hers. The sight makes you want to cry but you suck in your feelings and try to avoid them. You knew these next few days would be hard. Not only did you have to watch your best friend fall in love with someone else but you had to get rid of any feelings you have for her.

You didn't even know you liked her but it makes sense now. It's all coming together. Why did you feel this way? You've known Ellie all your life. Why are you just now realizing these feelings? The way she makes you feel when her fingers are running through your hair. The way she holds you close at night. The way she immediately drops everything when you need her.

Your thoughts shatter in your mind when you see Cats lips against Ellie's. You can't help but sit and stare. Ellie never told you they were official yet. Why didn't she tell you?

Your emotions took over and you left. You didn't know where you were going but your keys were in your hand and you were already half way to you car.

"Y/n!? Where are you going?" Ellie follows you as you walk out the door. Cat standing behind. She stands at the door frame as she watches you pull out of the drive way.

The air was much needed. You drove down the roads of the beach. tears building up in your eyes. You had hopes that this drive would distract you but the only thing on your mind was Ellie. Why did you let your feelings get the best of you again. She clearly doesn't like you. She has Cat.

You find yourself sitting in a cafe looking out at the beach. The thoughts Ellie holding you floods your mind. You hate yourself for feeling like this. What would she think if she knew about how you felt? Would this ruin everything between you two? Would your friendship be over for good?

You immediately snap out of your thoughts as you look down and notice a text from Ellie.

⋆˚✿˖°

a/n: Thank you for reading!! Im already working on the next chapter. I hope my writing gets stronger as I write more because I feel like this could be more detailed:( Please, please, pleaseeee give me feedback! I love hearing others opinions! Im excited to continue this story because honestly I have no idea where the plot is going to go yet. The next chapters should be longer as they come out. Im not expecting this to be too long but let me know what you guys want for the future chapters!<3

[inkskinned]

for the longest time my family used to host one of the biggest haunted houses on my block: elaborate, themed amateur haunts that pearled out along our lawn for one-night-only. spinning circus wheel-of-terrors and walkthrough alien crash-landings and spiders that arched over our driveway, leaking venom onto your feet.

we didn't have a lot of money; and honestly i don't know how we afforded what we did have. there were not going to be pneumatics or projectors or any supply over 20 dollars - and even 20 was a stretch. we were lucky, and we lived in a town that had a "swap shed", where people would drop off any banged-up-but-usable items that they wanted to get rid of. the whole year, my family would pick over someone else's discarded fans and lights and weird decorations, asking each other - what do you think? for halloween?

we would strip the motors out of rusted fans and spraypaint vases and saw broom handles in half and apply a very thick coat of cardboard and duct tape to everything. for our pirate year, i made the mistake of individually drawing woodgrain onto each strip of cardboard that made up the ship. i then gently painted and distressed the "boards" so they'd each have lichen and cracks and unusual patterns. i hid eyes in the knots and shaped skulls. you couldn't see any of it in the dark, even under our "spotlight" (someone's target-branded workshop flashlight).

i have a lot of very strange skills as a result. i know how to make a flying ghost appear both physically and in the mirror. i know how to make a witch's brew that stirs itself. i know how to burn and cut and paint until there is an iron throne you can sit on, or an alien brushing your ankles, or a hearse trundling along. i can't say we ever made it beyond our local newspapers, but we tried so hard that the town would regularly shut down our street.

i can't put any of these skills on a resume, and i haven't been able to put them to use for a while. i live in an apartment, there's no lawn for me to decorate. for years i've wanted to do an alice in wonderland theme, and have been collecting ideas like coins in a fountain. at other houses, i am transfixed by 12 foot skeletons and paper mache spooky lanterns; easily wooed by the knowledge of how much time people put in.

someone asked me once - so what was the point? and why didn't you guys charge anything to show up?

in truth, we probably needed the money. for years there, we were a 1-meal-a-day kind of a family. i was being polite earlier up in this essay: we furnished both our house and our halloweens using things left a recycling center. we live in new england and still didn't turn on the heat until the end of november, no matter how low the temperature.

every year we would collect donations for unicef and other charities. on an average year, we would collect enough to pay for our food for weeks. every year, without fail: we donated every penny.

this endeavor took months to plan and design and execute. we had to organize any volunteers and check safety and hope-for-the-best. it took at least 24 hours to set up, a week to take down. the motors and fans and lights all had to be packed tight. the cardboard would scatter, pangea in the rain and sleet. i remember picking up a plank from that pirate ship, the paint blown clear off, all my hard work completely erased. a new kind of driftwood.

if this was a poem, and not a memory, i could wrap this up prettily. i could say that these skills landed me a cool job in the haunting industry or that it taught me the value of friendship and responsibility. but i actually think it's something better, something very pretty: there wasn't ever a moral to it.

the night was a long one. yes, there were assholes, people who broke stuff. but mostly it was just kids like us in cardboard costumes, dressed as an incredibly niche kind of truck. good parents who were friendly and laughing. teenagers who slunk in at late hours, wide-eyed and secretly delighted; who asked us can i help next year? like, do y'all take volunteers, or whatever? every year more people came, and told their friends, and offered to pay. and every year we said maybe next year and meant absolutely never.

we did it because it was enough to love something, and to make that love visible. we did it because there is very rarely an excuse to have fun. i think maybe especially, for me - we did it because every year, there was one first "customer" somewhere around 3-4PM, while we were still putting on the final touches. the sun would still be up, and we were frazzled and always-running-late, and these kids saw our vision unfinished in the bright light of day.

something about their parents murmuring say thank you and telling my mom this setup is so sweet while this little kid would grin up at us, dazzled by our artistic mediocrity. the fall air and the chill and their coat-over-a-panda-princess-costume. that first phrase of the night awkwardly managed over a pair of overly-large vampire teeth: a beautiful and excited trick or treat!

[de4dlyniightshade]

꩜ BEHIND CLOSED DOORS!

꩜ PAIRING: sub!spencer reid x dom!afab!reader

꩜ RATING: 18+, mdni

꩜ WORD COUNT: 5.4k

꩜ WARNINGS/CONTAINS!: smut, d/s dynamics, "sweet pea" used SO MANY times, established relationship, inexperienced!spencer, first time pegging, tiny corruption kink, anal fingering(m receiving), mommy kink, aftercare, dacryphilia, overstimulation, slight edging, lots of praise, pet names(baby boy, sweet boy, baby etc), spencer going nonverbal lowkey, subspace

꩜ LYRIC: "Everybody's saying you're no good for me. But they don't see the dirty stuff you do to me"

© to de4dlyniightshade. no translations/reposts.

[WARNING!] - explicit sexual content! mdni!

꩜ A/N: this is like the first thing i'm actually nervous to post bcs i've been teasing this for so long and i'm scared it won't live up to expectations 0-0

Spencer was many things, subtle was not one of them. especially when he had something on his mind, like now. He was standing awkwardly in the doorway of your shared bedroom, shifting around on his feet as if to try and get your attention with a little tap show but you kept your focus on your book as you lay splayed out in the middle of the bed, legs crossed, wearing only plaid pyjama pants and a tank top.

you fought the smirk that twitched at the corners of your lips as you saw Spencer get more and more ansty in your peripheral vision, his hands clasped in front of him stiffly as he swayed in place and you couldn't help but let your curiosity get the better of you. 

"you gonna tell me what you want or just stand there and watch me, baby?" your tone was flat and you didn't even look up from your page as you spoke. You weren't doing it to be dismissive or rude, you just knew that your uninterested demeanour would get Spencer even more riled up, which it did, the sudden sound of your voice making his throat dry up and the words leave his mind. 

Spencer didn't really know how to breach the subject, he knew what he wanted very well and he knew what to say but it was how, how was he supposed to tell you with a straight face that he found your strap on and wanted you to use it on him? he trusted you of course, with his life, but he was still so new to a lot of things relationship wise and still struggled with properly communicating his needs and wants, which was okay, you were nothing but patient with him and honestly it was endearing the way he stuttered and stumbled over his words when it came to anything lewd. 

"I-I um- I don't- I don't know how to..." spencer's words died in his throat as he dropped his gaze to the floor, a pink blush spreading over his cheeks. your curiosity truly piqued, he was always nervous and shy but this was entirely different, he looked like he was about to sprint away from you and hide forever at a seconds notice. 

"Say it?" you finished his sentence, Spencer briefly meeting your eyes before he nodded shyly, hands still clasped at his crotch, his glasses low on his nose from the way he'd had his head lowered. 

"C'mere, sweet pea, sit," you finally slid the bookmark into your book, motioning spencer to sit at the edge of the bed before you set it down on your nightstand, sitting up properly to give him your full attention as he sheepishly lowered himself to sit at the bottom of the bed, your eyes on him honestly didn't help his case any, the way they bore into him making him feel so small. 

"Now, use your words, what is it that you want?" your tone wasn't demanding or domineering, more encouraging, the way you enunciated each word reminding spencer how he can trust you with anything, no matter how bizarre, minimal or trivial, you'd always made sure he knew that your relationship was a safe space for anything he had to say. 

"I uhm- I-I want- mmph" spencer cut himself off with a whine, averting his eyes from yours and focusing on his lap, letting out a shaky breath. "aw baby boy" you cooed, scooting down the bed to him and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder blade. 

"You can tell me baby, remember? no judgement." you spoke softly as you gently stroked your hand over his back, helping soothe his nerves. 

"O-Okay I- I want you to...uhm...f-fuck me" spencer's voice was barely above a whisper, stumbling over his words as he blushed a dark pink and completely avoided looking at you, almost as if you weren't even there.

Your eyebrows furrowed at his words, it wasn't like what he said was hard to understand it's just that you fucked him all the time so what was so terrifying about asking you this time? it wasn't his first time outright asking you to fuck him, which he did always get bashful about but not like this. 

"I don't think I follow, I fuck you all the time baby, what's so scary about this time?" Your voice was filled with genuine confusion as you spoke, your words making Spencer whine. I mean what did he expect, you weren't a mind reader, of course you weren't going to immediately know what he meant. 

"N-Not like that..." he reiterated, trying to sway you to the answer on your own so he wouldn't have to say it, so he wouldn't have to admit that he'd done nothing but picture you fucking him senseless with a silicone cock for days on end. 

"You want me to fuck you differently? you want me to be less rough? more rough?" you suddenly felt a guilt in your stomach at the thought that you had been too rough with him and he hadn't told you at the time, just going along to please you, which is the last thing you wanted. 

"N-No! not that- I just- I uhm- I found...something...in your drawer and I-" spencer's voice trailed off but as soon he motioned to said drawer it all clicked into place, he had found your strap on and wanted you to fuck him. 

"Oh! goodness why didn't you just say that, baby? for a second I thought I'd been too rough with you," your voice was laced with genuine relief before you paused completely, his words actually reaching your brain and processing. He wanted you to peg him. Your sweet, innocent, submissive boyfriend wanted you to peg him, it was like a wet dream. 

"I-I was...nervous" Spencer answered your question, still nervous but a lot less so now that the worst of it was over, or so he thought. 

"Sweet boy, no need to be nervous about that, you could've just said you wanted mommy to fuck your pretty hole" your tone dropped as you spoke, tugging your lip between your teeth when you heard spencer let out a quiet gasp at your lewd words, unable to even muster up a reply. 

"wanna tell mommy what you were snooping for?" you pressed, knowing that he probably wasn't snooping for anything in particular, in all honesty he was probably putting something away for you and just so happened to stumble upon the wrong, or right(depending on how you look at it)drawer. 

"N-Nothing! it was an accident, mommy, I swear" Spencer spoke hurriedly, slightly panicked sounding at the accusation and you couldn't help but coo at him, feeling a rush of arousal through you at his state. 

"Okay, okay, i believe you, baby," you raised your hands in surrender, Spencer looking slightly relieved that he wouldn't have to plead with you to believe him like the time he had a wet dream and you accused him of touching himself without permission, which was untrue, he was such a good boy and had never once intentionally broken any of your rules. 

"So tell me, sweet pea, how long has this been playing on that magnificent mind of yours?" your tone was slightly teasing, mostly because you knew that it had been playing on his mind for at least a few days for him to bring it up, knowing all to well how he was never very forward with his desires. 

You saw Spencer's eyes widen slightly before he let them trail around the room, letting a breath out from his nose, his eyes fluttering closed. "L-Like...uhm a week" you knew he was bullshitting you, he knew exactly how long he had been thinking about it, there was no such thing as "like a week" to spencer and he knew you didn't buy it with the way you lowered your head, brows quirking. 

"...eleven days" he admitted bashfully, fidgeting with his hands as the tension grew thick in the room, the feeling of your eyes boring into him making him gulp and shift in his seat. 

"Aww you poor thing, must've been so worked up about the whole thing hm?" you crooned, feigning a pout at him as he nodded, mirroring a pout back to you, paired with big doe eyes. 

"Why don't you take your clothes off for me, baby boy" you breathed in his ear, resting your chin on his shoulder while stroking your hand over his waist, a quiet whine escaping his lips as you pulled away from him, purposely sauntering over to your drawers slowly. 

Spencer swallowed thickly as he moved to start unbuttoning his shirt, his slender fingers moving quickly until he reached the last button, quickly pulling his shirt down his shoulders and tossing it on the floor before moving to undo his pants, his movements stopped by you retrieving the strap on and a bottle of lube from the drawer, the sight making spencer's thighs clench in anticipation. 

You turned around to see Spencer gawking at the item in your hand with wide eyes, not even noticing you looking at him until you cleared your throat, "what did I tell you to do?" you reminded him, Spencer's hands fumbling as he quickly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, "sorry, mommy" he murmured, averting your gaze once again. 

You watched like a hawk as Spencer hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and boxers, lifting himself enough to tug them down over his ass and down his legs, kicking them off to the side, leaving him in just his glasses and endearingly mismatched socks. 

"Thats mommy's good boy, so pretty baby," you praised, watching spencer's leaking cock twitch at your words, the sight making you bite your lip as you made your way over to him, setting down the strap and lube before positioning yourself in front of him, lifting his chin with your finger to look at you. 

"Sit back for me, baby" you ordered softly, Spencer immediately complying, shifting back to the middle of the bed and pressing his knees together nervously when he realised how exposed he was, which made you smile sweetly at him. 

You slowly climbed onto the bed with him, placing your hands on his knees and urging his thighs apart, Spencer gulping as he let his legs go slack, exposing his painfully hard, leaking cock, the tip flushed red and swollen, you know he's aching to be touched, his sensitive cock having been neglected of any stimulation. 

"So pretty baby" you murmured, smoothing your hands down his inner thighs, purposefully stopping just shy of where he needed you, a whimper falling from his lips when you pulled your hands away completely. 

"Need to get you prepped, sweet pea, 's that okay?" you made sure to make it abundantly clear that he had an out if he changed his mind, which he already knew but it didn't hurt to remind him. 

Spencer nodded shakily, eyes darting anywhere but your face. "words, my love" you raised your brow at him with a knowing expression, reminding him of the rules. "y-yes, mommy" he stuttered, a visible sheen of sweat on his forehead and a flush spreading down to his chest. 

"Good boy" you breathed, leaning back to retrieve the lube and popping the cap open, squeezing out a generous amount onto your middle and index finger. "Wider, baby" you encouraged, nudging his knee with your elbow, Spencer immediately spreading his legs wider for you, blushing impossibly harder at the compromising position. 

"Doing good baby, this is gonna be cold, okay?" you warned as you lowered your hand, Spencer nodding, his breathing slightly laboured as he watched your hand inch closer and closer to him until the cold sensation of the lube pressing to his entrance made him gasp, eyes squeezing shut as you smeared the slightly thick substance over him, your fingertips teasing his hole and making his cock twitch. 

"Lay back for me, sweet pea" you spoke sweetly, placing your free hand on his stomach. urging him onto his back so you could scoot closer, your thighs positioned under his, unable to resist biting your lip at the difference in size, your larger, plush thighs looking almost double the size of his. 

The sound of spencer whining pulled you from your train of thought, reminding you of what you were supposed to be doing. "Sorry, love, just look so cute," your compliment made Spencer turn his cheek to you, making a fruitless attempt at hiding the almost giddy expression on his face, which quickly contorted into an expression of surprise as you eased your middle finger into him, slow and steady as not to overwhelm him on his first time. 

"M-Mommy!" he mewled, clenching around your finger as you pushed it in all the way. You remained unmoving, just getting him used to the intrusion. "Shh baby shh, relax for mommy, you've got to relax" you soothed, rubbing your free hand up and down his waist, the combination of your soft touch and the feeling of you inside him making his cock twitch, a sizeable puddle of cum on his pelvis from how needy he was, his tip almost constantly leaking. 

Spencer took a heavy breath, shifting around slightly to get comfortable, your finger pushing deeper into him as he did and making him let out a sharp gasp, his hand flying to grip yours that rested on his waist. "That's it, baby, good boy," you praised softly as you slowly started thrusting your finger in and out of him, watching his facial expressions closely for any sign of discomfort. 

"You okay, sweet pea?" you asked, making sure to check in on him as much as possible as your movements sped up, beginning to curl your finger into him in time with your thrusts, the sensation making Spencer lightheaded, unable to even muster up the words, instead just nodding eagerly, which you let slide for now. 

"You think you can take another, baby?" You were confident that he could, by the way his muscles had relaxed, your digit sliding in and out of him with ease, but you still wanted to make sure he was comfortable and prepared for the intrusion. 

Spencer nodded keenly, his breathing heavy as he laid back on your sheets, his hand in yours, and his head tipped back. "Words, baby boy, you need to hear it." In all honesty, you didn't really need him to say it, but selfishly, you wanted him to. 

"Yes, m-more, mommy," he gasped as you continued to thrust your finger gently before pressing the tip of your index finger to his entrance, slowly pushing it in along with your middle finger, the extra stretch making Spencer buck his hips towards you, accidentally pushing your fingers in all the way, a loud moan falling from his lips involuntarily when your fingertips prodded his sweet spot, the sensation like nothing he'd ever felt before. 

"Mommy! I-I-" Spencer couldn't even fathom what he was trying to say, but you understood, squeezing his waist reassuringly. "I know, baby, such a good boy for mommy; you want more?" You already knew the answer to your question, but the idea of having your innocent baby boy beg you to finger-fuck him made your head swim. 

"P-Please mommy! n-need it," Spencer whimpered, rolling his hips towards you again, effectively fucking himself onto your fingers, and you couldn't help but moan quietly at the sight. "Seems like you're doing a pretty good job yourself, baby," you teased, making Spencer whine, slightly out of embarrassment that he was so desperate already but also because he wanted you to move.

"Okay, okay, sweet pea, stay still for me," you spoke softly before sliding your fingers out of him almost completely and thrusting them back in, hitting that perfect spot dead on, Spencer letting out a yelp of pleasure as his back arched and his thighs threatened to close, your free hand moving to pin his thigh down. 

You watched in perverted fascination as Spencer's cock twitched with each thrust of your fingers, precum dribbling down his shaft and pooling at the base. "Feel good, baby?" you asked almost teasingly, already knowing the answer. 

"Y-Yes! Feel s-so good, mommy! 'm gonna-" Spencer cut himself off with a loud whine, his back arching and thighs trembling as he clenched around your fingers, indicating that he was about to cum. 

"No, you're not," you said flatly as you abruptly pulled your fingers out of him. Spencer immediately let out a pathetic cry as he raised his head to look at you with big, wet eyes. "P-Please! I was- I was good, m-mommy p-please, wanna c-cum, please!'' Spencer begged desperately, tears welling in his eyes as he watched you completely pull away from him, moving to stand at the foot of the bed.

"Be patient, sweet pea, mommy is gonna make you cum, don't worry," you said in a sultry tone, looking at him through hooded eyes as you slowly pulled your shirt over your head, exposing your breasts to him, and watching as his eyes fixed on them, his cock twitching in anticipation as you hooked your fingers into your waistband, tugging your pants and underwear down in one. 

Spencer swallowed thickly as he watched you secure the strap around your legs and waist, making sure that it wasn't going anywhere before you looked up. Spencer didn't even notice, his eyes trained on the fake cock as he sat with his legs still spread, leaning back on his hands with his glasses crooked on his face. 

"God, you're so fucking pretty, baby, y'know that?" You spoke breathlessly, moving to climb back onto the bed with him, smiling at the way he whined and turning his face away in an attempt to hide his flushed cheeks. Spencer was never good at accepting compliments, always blushing at the slightest praise and turning away from you, which only made you compliment him and praise him more, loving to see the effect you had on him. 

"You still want this, baby?" you asked softly, situating yourself between his open legs and cupping his cheek to tilt his face to you, a gentle smile on your lips as he looked back at you with pleading eyes. "Yes," he almost whispered, averting his eyes from yours. 

"Yes, what?" You reminded him, quirking a brow and smirking slightly as you moved to fetch the bottle of lube from where you'd left it. "Yes, please, mommy," he corrected himself, flushing all the way down to his chest as he watched you pour a copious amount of lube onto your strap, biting down on his lip to stop himself from moaning at the sight of you spreading it from tip to base. 

Spencer watched you look around for a moment for something to wipe your hand on, brows furrowed until an expression of realisation crossed your face and you absentmindedly reached out to take his cock into your hand, stroking him a few times with your completely slick hand, the feeling making him gasp and whimper before you pulled your hand away, smiling sweetly, "so useful, baby," you teased, making Spencer pout dramatically, feigning annoyance at you practically using him as a washcloth. 

"No fair," he huffed, brows pulled together, and bottom lip jutted out in some attempt to look mad, which only made you giggle at him, making him frown harder. "Stick to looking pretty; it's what you're good at," you snorted, placing your hand on his chest and pushing him back, Spencer complying immediately, entirely pliant to your touch. 

"Relax for me, sweet pea; it might hurt a little bit, okay?" Your tone was smooth and soft as you spoke, moving your hand to hold his hip and stroking your thumb over his protruding bone, holding back from commenting on how skinny he is. 

"Mhm, 'm ready, mommy," he said breathlessly, swallowing thickly as he watched you shift closer to him, pressing your thighs to the backs of his and taking the base of your strap into your hand, guiding it towards his waiting entrance until the tip was pressed to him. Spencer gasped quietly and nodded, knowing you were waiting for his go-ahead before slowly pushing the tip into him, your eyes fixed on his expressions. 

"O-Oh m-mommy!" He mewled, his hands gripping the sheets at his sides, his eyes squeezed shut, and his brows furrowed as you gradually pushed further and further into him, the stretch making him pant and gasp. 

"Doing so good, baby, so good for mommy," you praised reassuringly as you bottomed out inside him, the sight of his face contorted in discomfort making you worry. "Am I hurting you, sweet pea? We can stop if it's too painful." You reminded him that he didn't have to continue just to please you, but he didn't want to stop, shaking his head quickly as he breathed heavily. 

"N-No! Just so- s-so full," he gasped, his voice high-pitched and whiny, his words making your stomach flip, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, forcing yourself not to brutally fuck him until he couldn't talk. 

"Tell me when you're ready, baby," you soothed, Spencer nodding as you placed your hands on his inner thighs, squeezing lightly before running them slowly up to grip the backs of his knees and tugging him closer to you, the movement making your cock push impossibly deeper, a quiet cry spilling from his lips as his legs tensed, stretching out behind you.

"P-Please mommy! N-Need it," Spencer whimpered, rolling his hips towards you to show you what he needed. The sight of him fucking himself onto your strap made you clench around nothing before you adjusted yourself, placing your hands on his thighs and pulling back slowly, stilling for a moment before pushing back in. 

You started off slow so as not to overwhelm him too much, setting a gentle and steady pace as you fucked him rhythmically, caressing his thighs as you did, whispering gentle praises to him to reassure and remind him that he was doing well. 

"M-More, mommy, w-want more." Spencer suddenly whimpered, his voice just above a whisper, barely loud enough for you to hear him, but you definitely did, and you were in no position to deny him. How could you? 

"So good, sweet pea, telling mommy what you want," you praised softly, knowing he struggled with voicing what he wanted, your heart swelling with pride as you squeezed the soft flesh of his thighs, your pace picking up and making him let out an abrupt moan, louder than the other sounds he'd made, his cheeks flushing once again at the sound of himself before he pressed his lips together to keep himself quiet. 

"No, no, baby, let mommy hear you," you breathed, squeezing his thighs again as your gaze fixed on his face, watching as he let his jaw fall slack as you continued to fuck him at a steady pace, smiling to yourself as he let himself let go, moaning and whimpering wantonly.

"That's it, baby, so good," you praised softly as you stroked your hands up his thighs to his hips, taking a hold of them and pausing your thrusts, gently moving to be kneeling rather than leaning back on your heels. The adjustment made him let out a whine that turned into a harsh gasp as the new angle had you pushing deeper into him. 

You wordlessly started thrusting again, the new angle catching Spencer off guard as the tip of your strap practically hammered into his sweet spot, his mind going completely blank as the sensation overwhelmed him like nothing he'd felt before, letting out the most lewd, sweet sounds you'd ever heard him make, a mixture of incoherent pleas, whimpers, and choked moans. 

"Gonna cum, baby boy?" you asked, having a pretty big hunch that he was by the way his cock bounced against his stomach, his back arching upward.

Spencer couldn't even fathom a reply to you, not even in his head. He heard the words and understood them, but all he could do was nod quickly, gripping the sheets at his sides as his chest heaved. 

You watched as tears streamed down his pink cheeks, needy sobs falling from his parted lips along with sharp gasps and words you couldn't make sense of, not even sure that he knew what he was trying to say. 

"Mommy!" was the only word that he finally choked out that was comprehensible, his stomach tensing and back arching just that little bit more as he released all over himself, thick white spurts of cum coating his stomach and up to his chest as he trembled and squirmed under you. 

"Oh, sweet thing, you made such a mess of yourself," you cooed as you took in his state while still thrusting into him, but at a slower and gentler pace, revelling in the little sounds he made with each one, something like a meek yelp as his body twitched.

"N-No! Please, please" he whined when you stilled completely and started to pull out of him, his desperate protest making you widen your eyes and halt your movements. 

"Please what? Baby, what do you want?" You asked softly, a worried undertone to your voice in case you were hurting him somehow, watching his features contort into displeasure, his lip jutting out. 

"More, w-want more, mommy," he whined, his voice high-pitched and breathy as he let his thighs close around you, practically locking you in as he lay limp under you, completely fucked out but begging for more. 

"Anything for you, sweet boy," you smiled as you pushed back in the mere inch he allowed you to pull out, watching him fall into a completely blissed-out, submissive state as you fucked him deep and slow, drinking up every little sound he made. 

You couldn't resist reaching out to wrap your hand around his neglected cock, beginning to stroke his length in time with your thrusts. The added stimulation making Spencer choke out a sob as he began to tremble again, evidently overstimulated, but he didn't show any signs of wanting you to stop, so you didn't. 

"Doing so, so good, baby, doing so well, so proud of you," you praised, telling no word of a lie. For the first time, he was doing so well, better than most would, and it made your heart swell. 

Spencer's sounds quickly grew in volume until he was once again whimpering and moaning wantonly, the overstimulation making him unable to hold back, his mind clouded with nothing but lust and how good your touch felt on his cock and how full he felt as you fucked him, the mixture of everything making his second orgasm approach quickly. 

"G-gonna-" he choked out, the words dying in his throat, but it was enough for you to understand him, shifting your hand to focus more on his tip, tightening your hold just slightly as he gasped and writhed under you, tears covering over the previous tear stains on his cheeks as his thighs clamped around your waist. 

Spencer went completely silent as his jaw dropped open and his eyes screwed shut as he came hard, spilling over your hand and his stomach again as his hips rutted into your fist, choking out the most delicious whimpers and sobs as his whole body began shaking and trembling. 

You released your hold on his length once he started whimpering and pulling away from you, showing that he'd had enough without having to say it, so you just let your hand rest on his hip again, your thumbs stroking over them gently as he breathed heavily, clearly exhausted. 

"Gonna pull out, baby, okay? Keep still for me," you said softly, warning him so your movements wouldn't startle him. You waited for him to give you a tired nod before you slowly started pulling out of him, making sure to be extra careful not to hurt him. 

Spencer winced slightly, but ultimately your strap slipped out of him easily, and he finally sank completely into the sheets, eyes closed and body limp. You gently got up from the bed, undoing the strap before pulling your pants and underwear back on, followed by your shirt. 

You quietly left the room to fetch a washcloth from the bathroom, wetting it with warm water and leaving your strap by the sink to clean later before making your way back to your shared bedroom, smiling at the sight of Spencer splayed out on your bed, completely fucked out. 

"Mommy's gonna clean you up, okay?" You practically whispered, feeling like if you were too loud it might startle him. Spencer simply nodded in response as you climbed back onto the bed with him and situated yourself between his still-spread thighs, gently and softly cleaning the drying cum from his stomach and chest, being extra careful when cleaning his now soft length, and apologising quietly when he winced slightly.

"All done, no more, sweet pea," you reassured him as you threw the washcloth in the general direction of the laundry basket. 

"You want mommy to get you something to wear? some water?" You asked, worried he might be a little cold laying there completely bare, save for those cute mismatched socks, of course. 

"Yes, please, both," he rasped, his voice spent from all that noise he was making, and you couldn't help but feel bad even if it wasn't your fault. 

"Okay, baby," you smiled before getting up from the bed to make your way to the kitchen for a glass of water, picking a decently large one just to be sure, and quickly making your way back, using your free hand to fetch a very similar pair of pyjama pants to what you were wearing. 

You set the glass down on the bedside table before turning to him. "Can you sit up for me, sweet pea?" you asked softly, Spencer's eyes fluttering open before he nodded, shifting his weight onto his hands as he sat up, groggily swinging his legs over the side of the bed. 

"Good boy, now lift your feet for me," you encouraged Spencer, following your every instruction as you slid the soft material over his legs, lifting himself just enough so you could pull them over his probably tender ass. 

"That's it; now sip this for me; don't drink too fast, okay?" You instructed softly, handing the glass to him but making sure to keep a good hold of it until you were sure he wouldn't drop it, his hand shaking slightly as he brought it to his lips, taking small mouthfuls like you'd told him to. 

Spencer shakily handed the glass back to you when he was finished, looking up at you with heavy eyes as you placed it back down, a pout forming on his lips as he looked at you. 

"What is it, baby?" You cooed, shifting closer to him to rest your hand on his head, stroking his hair softly as he whined, wordlessly reaching out for you, his arms wrapping around your hips and pulling you into him so he could rest his cheek on your stomach, nuzzling his face into you. 

"Oh, sweet pea, you want mommy to cuddle with you?" You asked sweetly. The way Spencer nodded quickly making you smile wide as he let you go so you could climb onto the bed with him, shifting onto the opposite side from him. As soon as your back was meeting the sheets, he was practically on top of you, his head nuzzled into your chest, and his leg swung over you as he lay half on top of you with his arm around your waist. 

"You did so well, baby, always such a good boy for mommy," you murmured as you felt yourself getting tired too, letting your fingers card through his hair as you felt him smile against you at the praise. 

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, and you knew you wouldn't be long after him, but you hated when he slept in his glasses, so you ever so carefully manoeuvred his face so you could gently grab the bridge or his glasses between your thumb and finger and slowly slide them off his face, sighing in relief when he didn't stir before folding them and placing them on your nightstand. 

"Night, sweet pea," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his hair like you do every single night before letting your eyes fall closed.

@cancersunthatsit @mindfullycriminal @reidsdaisies @iluvreid @fliesforeyes @teachugger69 @queermaxwooo @olives-and-sunshine @ac0511 @unimportantweirdo @criminalmindswife @deluluforu @busybeingstrange

(if you wanna be tagged when i post fics just lmk!)

[homunculus-argument]

I was born and raised American, but with everything that's happened over the past few years I've been considering moving to another country. but I don't know if this is just "the grass is greener". Not sure if this really fits with your blog, but as someone from Europe what's your attitude towards living in the US?

I've visited there a handful of times and most of my thoughts are "damn bitch, y'all really live like this?" People in Finland like to complain about the climate, the taxes, and how stingy the welfare systems are (if you currently rely on them) or how costly they are (if you're currently not relying on them), but honestly most of the time that's because people are used to having it so good, or don't really have a perspective of how bad everyone would be doing without the infrastructure that everything runs on.

Sure, nowhere is perfect, and there's always room for improvement, but honestly the people I've met in the US only really seem to think that their system is good because they've never been anywhere else and don't know any better.

Mostly it's stuff that you'd never think about if you hadn't been to both places, like being able to trust that tap water is drinkable or that you can safely walk/bike to wherever you need to go. The US really doesn't have the kind of ability to just hang out in public places, just walking to the town and sitting on benches. Having public parks and libraries isn't really the same if you can't just walk there, and you genuinely need a car to go anywhere.

I moan and lament a lot about how the winters here are hard to endure - at the darkest time of the year the sun rises at 9 and sets before 5 pm - but I wouldn't move from here just because of that, mainly because of how reliably everything is structured here. Sure, it's all run with funds from relatively high taxes, but that is a self-feeding loop on its own. The tax-paying workforce isn't a disposable resource that's wrung dry once and tossed out when it's broken, but even when you're just another cog in the machine, you're one that's maintained, not replaced if broken.

I had a lot of breakdowns when I was younger, largely due to depression and other mental issues I had due to the undiagnosed ADHD. When I started breaking down at work in my old factory job, they couldn't just fire me on the spot because of the workers' union fought tooth and nail to make sure that you can't throw people out for getting sick, and mental illness is treated no different from other health issues. I was allowed to take two years off work in order to study into a career I thought would fit me better. That didn't turn out well either, but I was still allowed to bounce back and forth between odd jobs, sick leave, and studying - all on government pensions during the spots when I wasn't working a wage - until I found the right diagnosis, the right medications, and the right job.

It's not a hyperbole to say that I owe my life to the ample and studry social welfare systems that Finland has in place. Sure, you're just another brick in the wall, a cog in the machine, but if you keep breaking down, it takes a long time until they completely give up on you if you can somehow make them believe that you're trying, because it's cheaper for the tax system to figure out how to make you fit into the machine than just toss you out. A human being is an expensive investment and if getting you to the right job, education, diagnosis, medication or even arranged housing is what it takes to get your ass back into the workforce, they'll at least try.

I'm perfectly happy to pay the taxes here to fund the system that helped me onto my feet when I was in no condition to function, and to support the people who never do recover, find their place, or be able to support themselves on their own. And I can live with the peace of mind that even if I fall apart again, that safety net is still there. It's brutal, pragmatic, and regards your health and welfare as a means to an end - to get you working and paying taxes again - but they still do prioritise your welfare. Cogs are cheaper to maintain than replace.

[joelscruff]

feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART FIVE

previous chapters | kofi | i'm honestly amazed that i actually completed this chapter today; as a lot of yall know i've been dealing with a lot of shitty life stuff lately and part of me expected this to not even get posted this month. and yet!! here we are. thank you to everyone who has been so supportive and amazing, this chapter is for you and i hope you like it 💖 chapter summary: you're starting to feel a bit insecure about your relationship with joel. perhaps a late night visit to his house is what you need 👀 rating: 18+ explicit warnings: age difference (reader is in her 20s, joel in his 50s), innocent/inexperienced reader, corruption, praise kink (joel calls reader babygirl, sweetheart, etc), dirty talk, mentions of religion (reader’s family are very catholic), fingering, handjobs, comeplay word count: 9k (woops) ao3

The rest of the week goes by gruelingly slow. Joel is busy every day and has barely any time to talk, so you mainly communicate through texts. The "conversations" are slow and broken, Joel only able to text when he has a free moment, which doesn't seem to be very often. You don't talk on the phone again, as much as you want to hear his voice, and you don't sext again either. It's a bit weird, a bit confusing, but you navigate it as best you can. It's not like he's ignoring you, he always responds, but it's just not the same as that first day.

you still wanna do this, right?

You type it around midnight on Thursday, hands trembling a bit as you hover over the send button. In one way you're afraid to ask him, afraid to seem clingy or young or inexperienced; but you're all of those things. When he's actually talking to you directly there's no fear, no question about what he wants, but going so long without hearing his voice makes you more and more insecure about what exactly he's thinking.

You erase the first message and start to type another one:

i know you're busy but

You shake your head and erase that one too. This is so stupid. Of course he still wants you, you idiot.

He'd said he was okay with the lie you'd told, had even said he would actually teach you guitar now too, but you're an overthinker, always have been. You can't help but feel dread whirling around in the pit of your stomach; he wants to end it, it's too complicated now. You've turned something sexy and fun into something ridiculous and unnecessary.

You lock your phone without sending anything and roll around in bed a bit, trying to sleep. Your thoughts make it impossible though, nagging at the front of your mind worse than your parents. You sit up and slide the tip of your thumb into your mouth, biting down in thought and staring at the blank screen of your phone.

What if you just...

are you home?

He hadn't sent you anything earlier to confirm he'd gotten back; you've discovered over the past few days that contractors really like to drink after their shift. Joel's been at the bar every night since that first day, often 'til late; you have to admit, it makes you a bit jealous to imagine Joel and his contracting crew out having a great time while you're laying in your childhood bed with a curfew. Bar hopping and partying has never appealed to you before, at least not when your college friends did it, but now the thought of it doesn't seem so bad. Not if you were doing it with him...

Your phone buzzes and you feel excitement burst through you at his reply:

Got in about 10 minutes ago, didn't think you'd be up. You okay?

You soften at his concern, cheeks warming. You don't hesitate, knowing if you think too much about it you'll end up changing your mind. You type your your response and hit send before you can talk yourself out of it.

can i come over?

You stare at the screen with bated breath, watching as his typing bubble appears. It takes barely any time at all for him to reply:

Of course you can. Door's unlocked.

--

Sneaking out of your house is much easier than you thought it'd be. You've never done it before, had almost expected the bottom half of your house to suddenly have some kind of security system with lasers and cameras, but nope. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You're wearing one of your old nightdresses, pink and frilly; you'd opted to start wearing them again the other day, liking the way they made you feel, accentuating your legs and breasts like your old Sunday school dress. You'd changed quickly every morning before going downstairs to save your parents from the heart attacks they'd have seeing you with so little skin coverage. But there's no need to change now, not with where you're going. You yank on a jacket and sneakers and carefully open and close the front door, scurrying out into the cool night air.

Joel's house isn't far, just a street over. You try not to run, as much as you want to; you know you'll end up all sweaty and messy haired - the opposite of how you'd like to portray yourself tonight, but your skin is practically glowing with anticipation. You hold the short hem of your nightdress down as you speed walk through the dark suburban streets of your neighborhood.

Your heart starts pounding when his house comes into view; the living room window is dimly lit. You jog up the front steps and take a deep breath before turning the handle, smiling to yourself when it opens easily; he'd really left the door unlocked for you.

"Mr. Miller?" you call in a hushed tone, shutting the door behind you and turning the lock.

He emerges from the living room and you feel your eyes widen. All he's wearing is a pair of loose fitting plaid pajama pants; nothing else. No shirt, no socks, and probably no underwear. You swallow, eyes trailing up and down the naked solidness of his chest, the greying hair smattered along the skin. He's got a softness to him, a bit of a pudgy belly that makes you want to smile, but his rugged sexiness is even more apparent. His strong pecs, freckled arms, the hair trailing down his stomach and into his pajama pants... it suddenly leaves you unable to breathe or form a coherent thought.

"There's my girl," he says, voice low and husky; he must have talked a lot today, called people's names, ordered them around, "C'mere."

Your brain is still muddled and awestruck as you feel yourself rush forward, arms immediately wrapping around his bare torso. His skin is softer than you'd thought it'd be, warm under your touch as you carefully press your cheek to his chest. You feel the scratch of hair against your skin, reminding you of his age; fifty six. The thought gives you an ache between your legs.

He holds you close and rubs your back, presses a kiss to the top of your head. Your eyes flutter closed at his touch, fingers splaying across the wide span of his back. You find yourself able to breathe again, but all you inhale is his scent, fresh and masculine. It's then that you realize his skin is slightly damp, peppered here and there with little droplets of water.

"I just got out of the shower," he says quietly, answering your unspoken question, "Was about to get in bed when you texted but I figured if you were comin' over I should clean myself up a bit."

You hum against his chest, still not sure exactly what to say. The ache between your legs is growing stronger the more you stand here in his embrace; somehow you hadn't expected to feel this way just from hugging him, although you probably should have guessed.

"I wanna get in your bed," you say softly, opening your eyes again and pulling back to look at him. His expression says it all, eyes going dark as they fall to your lips.

"Then let's get in my bed," he murmurs, just as quiet.

--

The last time you were in Joel's bedroom there'd been more of a sense of urgency, when he'd sat with you in his lap on the edge of his bed and held you open in front of the mirror. Now things are much slower, more quiet. You slip in behind him and unzip your jacket, taking it off and hanging it carefully on the hook behind his door.

"That's pretty," he says behind you, and you feel him reach out to gently touch the pink material, hand ghosting the bare skin of your chest. Your breath hitches and he smiles, "Tiny little thing, isn't it?"

"I've had it for a long time, I thought you might like it."

"I do," he pulls you toward him, then reaches his hands up to thumb the thin straps of the nightdress. You watch with hooded eyes as he slowly pushes them off your shoulders, "I'm gonna take it off though, that okay?"

Your brow furrows; he notices your reaction and his hands freeze, "Not okay?" he asks, confused slightly.

"N-no, it's okay," you say quickly, "I just... I'm still a little self conscious."

His eyes widen slightly and he shakes his head, "You have nothin' to be self conscious about, sweetheart," he reassures you, "I wanna see you..." he pushes the straps down your shoulders and you stand there trembling slightly as he pulls the dress down, exposing your breasts to him, "There you are."

You shiver a bit under his gaze, but not out of discomfort or fear. You feel safe with him; you know he'd never do anything you didn't consent to. You're just not exactly sure what you want, what exactly you've really come here for. Before you'd left the house you'd been so afraid that he was losing interest, already getting tired of you; now he stares at you like you're some kind of rare gem, making you feel bashful and beautiful under his gaze.

"I wanna touch you," you whisper, the shakiness of your voice betraying your nervousness - or anticipation.

His hands freeze for a few seconds but he regains composure quickly, tugging the dress down further until it's cascading down your legs, putting you completely on display. He swallows audibly, taking you in. You look at his face and feel yourself pulse under his gaze, the way he's staring directly at your bare pussy.

"Let's get in bed," he murmurs, "I think there's a few things we can touch."

His words send a buzzing warmth through your body and you cross your legs unconsciously, an action that makes him smirk. You turn away from him with heat flooding your cheeks as you climb into his bed; it's large and comfortable, but you already know neither of you will be taking advantage of the big space. You sit up against his headboard and pull the duvet up over yourself, hiding your breasts from view - as if he hasn't already seen them.

"I'll keep these on" he says softly, tugging at the band of his pajama pants, "Don't worry."

Your heart leaps to your throat and you nod quickly - probably too quickly. It's not that you're scared to see him naked; you've already seen both halves now and that's taken away a lot of the fear, but the concept of being in bed together, both naked... you're not sure you're ready yet. And you're glad he understands that without you having to say it out loud.

You watch as he climbs into bed and positions himself up against the headboard like you, scooches in next to you so your sides are touching. His skin against yours is unlike anything you've felt with him up until this point; he's so warm, a firm and large presence at your side that immediately has you feeling intimidated. Your nerves are already beginning to set alight just by having him so close. You open your mouth to speak but are unable to say anything when he inches even closer, his bare waist pressing firmly against yours.

"Hey, you're okay," he breathes, reaching up to gently thumb your cheek in a calming motion, brow furrowing slightly, "You don't gotta be nervous, sweetheart, it's only me."

"I'm not nervous," you whisper back, and while you're not exactly being honest there's certainly something else you're feeling, "I'm just..." you cross your legs again under the duvet, "I'm getting really wet."

He makes an odd sound in the back of his throat that makes you smile a little, cheeks burning under his gaze. He reaches over and slowly pushes the blankets down from your loose grip, exposing you to him once again. He moves his hand down, fingertips trailing along your bare chest until carefully bringing one of your breasts into his palm and squeezing gently.

"You don't gotta hide these from me, darlin'," he murmurs, thumb dragging across your nipple, sending tingles throughout your body, "They're too pretty to stay outta sight."

You shiver when he carefully tweaks your nipple between his fingers, his gaze firmly set on his movements. You watch together as he plays with it, toys with it, rolls it between thumb and forefinger. The warm and tight feeling sends an odd tingling sensation from your breast to your pussy, like they're connected somehow.

"I'm gonna put this in my mouth," he says softly, "Suck on it a little bit, that okay?"

You can't help but feel a bit unsure, biting your lip, "Is that... does it feel good to do that?"

He nods up at you, thumbing your nipple again slowly, "Feels really good, I promise. You got a lot of nerves here, just like your pussy. Really sensitive."

Your eyes are hazy as you nod to him slowly, "Th-that sounds nice."

At your words he leans his head down and brings your nipple into his mouth, dropping his fingers and replacing his thumb with the warm suction of his lips. You gasp out in surprise, hand coming up to immediately cup the back of his head.

You've never felt anything like this; the suction of his mouth is so new and strange, that tingling sensation returning as you cross your legs tighter and whimper aloud as he sucks your nipple. His tongue is wet and warm, tracing the shape of you in little circles, while his free hand comes up to squeeze your other breast, tweak it with his fingers. Your breath begins to come out raggedly, brow furrowing and legs tightening together as he suckles.

"Oh my god," you hear yourself whimper, hand tightening in his hair, "Why does that feel so good?"

He pulls off your nipple with a quiet laugh, peering up at you, "Yeah, you like the way that feels, babygirl?"

You nod quickly, swallowing and trying to get your breath back, "Yes," you whisper, "A lot."

He smiles at that, "Then how 'bout you lay back for me?"

It's an offer that's impossible to refuse. You quickly pull yourself down from the headboard and slip beneath the covers, head coming to rest on one of his pillows. He slips under as well, then very slowly positions himself on top of you, a leg on either side of your trembling form. You look up at him with wide eyes, unsure whether you're more nervous or excited.

"You're okay," he reassures you again, inching downward a bit and pressing a few gentle kisses to your neck, "Gotta be on top to do this right, so it feels good."

You nod slowly, "I c-can feel..."

"What?" he whispers, "What do you feel?"

Your arms are loose at your sides and Joel's are pinned above you, but there's an unmistakable feeling of something prodding into your thigh, large and thick.

"Your cock," you manage to whisper, voice trembling, "I think."

"That's right," he murmurs, "It's 'cause I'm gettin' hard from suckin' you like that, touchin' you," he trails his fingers down your sides gently, making you shiver, "You like feelin' it there?"

You feel yourself slowly nodding, eyes going even more hazy and hooded, "I wanna touch it."

"I know you do," he whispers, "I want you to touch it too, sweetheart. But I'm gonna play with you a little longer," he leans his face down and licks a small stripe against your other nipple, making your hips buck, "Then I'll teach you how to touch it, that alright?"

"Yes," you breathe, "Please."

"You like when I play with you, don't you?" he murmurs against your breast, then captures your other nipple in his mouth and starts to suck.

"Y-yes," you repeat, hand coming up again to tangle in his hair, already overwhelmed by the sensation, "I missed it."

He hums, sending another cascade of tingles throughout your body. To think that less than half an hour ago you were laying in bed wondering if he still wanted you; now you're naked and he's on top of you with his mouth on your breast. How is this your life?

"What did'ya miss?" he pulls off for barely a few seconds, scruff scratching perfectly against your sensitive skin, "Tell me, babygirl, wanna know what you've been thinkin' about."

You whimper when he goes back to suckling, your fingers threading through his greying curls. It's hard to get your thoughts straight when he's making you feel like this, every tight suck and wet lick going directly to your aching core.

"J-just missed you touching me," you breathe, voice rough and wanton with pleasure, "Missed your hands on me, your fingers..."

At your words he carefully brings one of his hands downward, caressing your body gently as he goes. Your breath hitches when he swipes his middle and index finger down your wet seam, urging you to open up for him. You uncross your trembling legs, looking down to watch as he continues to suck on your breast while his fingers dip down to your wetness.

"Inside," you whisper, finishing your thought but almost giving him a command at the same time; he doesn't hesitate, immediately pushing both fingers past your entrance and slipping them inside your throbbing hole, "Fuck," you whimper, closing your eyes and throwing your head back, "Like that."

You can feel the head of his cock through his pajama pants, pulsing against your thigh, leaving a sticky spot in the fabric. The fact that he's getting hard just by doing this to you, getting wet in his own way, it just turns you on even more.

He pulls off your breast with a wet pop and tilts his head up to look at you, pressing little kisses around your nipple and then pulling himself up a bit to hover over you. You feel his clothed cock prod your lower belly and you shiver again.

"Wanted to be full again, huh?" he murmurs, eyes dark, "Missed havin' these big fingers inside you?"

You nod and tug at his curls, urging him to lean his face down toward you. He takes the hint immediately, smirking a bit before reaching down to press his lips to yours and kiss you hungrily. You sigh into his mouth, contentment and arousal flooding through you as he slowly pushes his fingers in and out of you. Your hand moves from his hair to cup his jaw, loving the feeling of his beard beneath your fingers.

"Wanna know what I missed?" he asks against your lips, voice deep and breathy, "Missed this tiny little hole, so tight, all for me," at his words he curls the tips of his fingers inside of you, making you emit a loud whimper that makes him grin, "That's right, takin' my fingers so well, angel. Bet you could take three now," you feel another one of his fingers prod you alongside his others, "You want that, babygirl? Want three of those big fingers?"

You swallow nervously but slowly nod, tugging your bottom lip into your mouth, "Yes, Mr. Miller," you whimper, "Wanna be full."

"Good girl," he murmurs, brushing his nose lightly against yours, "You're such a good girl, aren't you?"

You hear the sounds you're making but you're not quite sure where they're coming from or how you're making them; you sound pathetic and breathless as he fucks you with his fingers, teases the third at your hole and leans down to kiss you again. His tongue slips past your lips and you feel the vibration of your own moans in his mouth when his thumb gently teases your clit.

"There you go, angel," he mutters against your lips as his third finger breaches your entrance, slowly pushes past the other two, "Thaaat's it, babygirl."

You tremble underneath him, feeling your body tense up at the new intrusion. You've had three of your own fingers inside yourself, but not three of his, long and thick and so much bigger than your own. You hear your whimpers turn into cries as his fingers fill you up, your own hands coming up to grip his back, nails digging into the skin.

"Shhh," he soothes, trailing more kisses along your face in an attempt to relax you, "You're okay, sweetheart, you're okay." And you are okay, being underneath him like this, being entirely at his mercy as he pushes your limits, helps you discover something new. It burns a bit, stretches and pulls and stings, but he talks you through it, whispers reassuring words in your ear, and you know you're safe.

He stills once all three fingers are deep inside, then pulls himself up a bit to look at you, pushing a stray hair behind your ear and peering down with a soft expression despite the depraved circumstances.

"How's that feel?" he whispers, voice gentle and soothing, "Tell me."

You're still making whimpering noises, shaky and quiet, but you're able to reply with the only word you can bring to the front of your mind: "Full."

He smiles down at you, brushes his nose against yours, "You did so good, angel," he murmurs, eyes not leaving yours, "I'm prouda you."

He knows what he's doing with that phrase; immediately you feel yourself loosen beneath him, hands going slightly limp against his back. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth and slowly begins to move his fingers again, pumping them in and out at an even pace.

It's amazing. It's so different than just two fingers, so much bigger and fuller - you've never felt anything like it; something so dirty but somehow passionate and warm. He kisses you as he fucks you with them, hovering over you with his hot skin emanating onto yours, wisps of hair from his chest and stomach tickling you everywhere. He thumbs your clit again and you moan loudly against his lips, your orgasm swelling in your belly as your hands tangle in his hair and pull him closer.

"You gonna come, angel?" he asks you softly, sweetly, pulling back a bit to stare deeply into your wide eyes, "Yeah, you're gonna come on those big fingers, huh? Can feel your pussy gettin' all tight around me, she wants it so bad doesn't she?"

You moan even louder as you frantically nod, "Yes, gonna come, gonna come," you cry out, overwhelmed by the thickness of his fingers and the way he's looking at you, the way he's talking to you; everything is just him.

"That's right, give it to me, sweet girl," he urges you, plunging into you faster and faster as his thumb rotates mercilessly against your clit, "Make a mess for me, soak those fingers, there you go."

You keen, high and borderline ridiculous as you stiffen beneath him and begin to shake, pitiful sounds escaping your mouth as you come. He fucks you through it, watching your face every step of the way and not stopping his movements until you've come down completely. You lay beneath him, chest heaving and eyes closing involuntarily as he strokes your thigh tenderly, reassuringly. He keeps his fingers lodged deep inside of you, not moving but simply keeping you full as you come down from your orgasm; you find yourself hoping he doesn't pull them out just yet.

"Can I show you somethin'?" he asks softly, and you open your eyes to find him still peering down at your face. You can't speak, can only nod as you bite down on your lip and try to catch your breath, your entire brain focused solely on the way his fingers feel inside you. As if he can read your mind, he's suddenly pulling them out and bringing them up to hover between the two of you.

Your brow furrows in confusion, suddenly feeling beyond empty as you pout up at him. He just chuckles to himself, still holding his three fingers - wet and glistening - in front of you while his other hand reaches down to the waistband of his pajama pants. Your eyes go wide, lips parting a bit as you look from his face to where his hand is and back again.

Without words from either of you, he slowly reaches inside and pulls out his cock, thick and dripping. You make a weird sound in the back of your throat, sitting up slightly as you peer at it with wonder. He's showed it to you before, it's nothing new, and yet...

"That's about the same width, wouldn't you say?" he asks you quietly, bringing his dripping fingers down to his hard cock and aligning them side by side; he's right - the thickness of all three of his fingers is relatively similar to the thickness of his cock. There's certainly different aspects - the length being the main difference - but the overall width is pretty spot on.

"Y-yeah," you say softly, eyes glued to it, "Pretty close."

You watch as he carefully drags his fingers along the thick length of his cock, still soaked with your release. He spreads your juices along it with his thumb and fingers, fists it gently and very slowly fucks his fist once. Your eyes are hooded and dark, saliva beginning to pool inside your mouth for reasons you can't even begin to understand.

"You just took three fingers," he continues, thumb tracing the base of his wide tip, "So wouldn't you say that answers a question you've been worryin' your pretty little head about?"

Your eyebrows scrunch together, trying to figure out what he means. It's hard to focus on absolutely anything else when his dick is right there in front of you, practically begging to be touched, the fat head pulsing and drooling under your gaze.

"Oh, this is gonna be a problem, isn't it?" he says, amused as he continues to slowly stroke himself, "Can't even think when there's a cock in front of you, huh?"

The words snap you back to reality, but only slightly. You smile sheepishly as you will yourself to look up at his face and away from his dick, "Wh-what question, Mr. Miller?"

He chuckles, "You were afraid it wouldn't fit inside you, babygirl," he reminds you gently, "But it will, we just proved that."

Your brain slowly makes sense of what he's saying and you can't help but feel a wave of relief wash over you; he's right. It had burned a bit, been uncomfortable for a moment or two, but ultimately you'd been able to take all three and enjoy it. You feel a smile spread across your face, and you notice his eyes soften slightly as he looks at you.

"You're right," you say breathlessly, smile still wide, "I did it, didn't I?"

His expression softens even more and he smiles back at you, laughing quietly to himself. He opens his mouth to say something but then seems to think better of it, pulling one of his legs back and moving to sit beside you on the bed instead of over you. Your brow furrows a bit in confusion.

"What is it?"

He just shakes his head, still smiling softly to himself, "Nothin', you're just... you're adorable."

Your cheeks warm at that, unable to help feeling a little self conscious. Now that you've come down from your orgasm you're suddenly hyperaware of your nakedness, of the fact that he can see every inch of your body. You draw the covers up around yourself quickly, hoping he won't mind.

"Such a shy little thing," he murmurs softly, but makes no move to pull the blankets down again like he had before, just watches you with a smile as your gaze slowly falls back to where he's hard and aching.

"Can I...?" you can't bring yourself to say the words, feeling flustered and nervous at the very thought. He just nods and reaches over to touch your hand, strokes your trembling fingers in his grip.

You watch as he carefully maneuvers your hand toward his crotch and slowly places your hand on his cock. Your fingers curl around his girth almost instinctively, imitating what you've seen him do before. Your lips part, breath hitching as your skin touches his most intimate area, a place on a man you never thought you'd ever be able to feel, at least not until you were married.

It's soft. Not in terms of arousal but just in texture, a silky and smooth feeling you hadn't been expecting. You stare down at your own hand in slight awe as your thumb gently strokes along his shaft, brow furrowing at how different it is than what you'd imagined. It's surprisingly just a body part, just an extension of Joel that usually remains hidden and secret; it's not as scary or intimidating when you can touch it like this, play with it like he plays with you.

"Wow," you say softly, barely aware of it as your fist ever so slowly moves along his length, pumps him just once in that hypnotic way he'd showed you; he's still covered in your own release, wet and slippery, but somehow you don't feel grossed out by it.

"You're a natural," he replies just as quietly, and your skin heats again when you look up to see his face, see the desire and pleasure in his expression, "Don't think there's much I need to teach you, to be honest. My parts are a lot simpler than yours."

You smile to yourself and pump him slowly again, this time brushing against the wet and throbbing tip. He makes a faint grunting sound that makes your eyebrows go up.

"This part..." you say quietly, thumbing the head ever so slightly and feeling your heart race when it pulses beneath you, "It feels different?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, biting down on his lip for a moment, "That part's sensitive, kinda like your clit."

You nod slowly, pushing your thumb up a bit and slowly rotating it along the sensitive area. He inhales sharply, grunts again when you prod the spongey head with both your thumb and index finger, teasing it like he'd done with your nipple.

"Fuck," he mutters softly, voice heavy and breathless, "That's it, angel, you got it."

His praise is like a warm blanket, shrouding you in safety and comfort as you slowly pump his cock again, teasing the head intermittently and trying not to smile too much every time he makes another one of those breathy grunting sounds. You feel pride swelling in your chest, the knowledge that you're actually making him feel good pushing you to continue on.

"What about these?" you ask softly, stilling your hand on his cock for a moment to gesture toward his balls, round and heavy beneath the base, "Does it....do they feel good when they get touched, too?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, voice dark and full of arousal, "They do."

"Can I touch them?"

The sound that emits from his throat sounds almost like a growl, low and husky, "Yes," he groans, "Go ahead and touch 'em, sweetheart."

The tone of his voice is slightly desperate, bordering on depraved. Your eyes travel back up to his face and his jaw is slack, eyes hooded as he watches you touch him. You've never seen him like this, almost completely wrecked by something you did.

"Gotta be real gentle," he continues, taking a breath through his nostrils and reaching down to pull his pajama pants down a bit more for easier access, "They're sensitive too."

You resume your slow pumping of his cock with one hand while your other reaches down to lightly trail the tips of your fingers along the shape of his balls, round and tender. You cup them gently, teasing them one by one in your palm. He hisses in pleasure, eyes shutting tightly as he leans back a bit against the headboard.

"Feel good?" you whisper, trying your best to fall into the role Joel usually takes on, the role of the person giving the pleasure.

"Yes, baby," he groans, pressing the backs of his hands against his shut eyes, "Yes, feels so good, sweetheart."

Your pumping gets a bit faster, a bit wetter as precum continues to drool from the tip and down his shaft. It's unbelievable that you're really sitting here in a man's bed, a man about thirty years older than you, pumping his cock and making him come apart like this. You can feel yourself throbbing beneath the blankets, getting wet all over again at the reality of the situation, and when your movements cause the blankets to fall from your chest and expose your breasts again, you don't bother trying to cover up.

Joel groans at the sight, reaching over to tweak one of your nipples between his fingers, making you whimper, "You know what happens when a man comes?" he asks you suddenly, brow furrowing in pleasure, "You learn about that in school?"

You nod quickly, feeling sweat trickle down your face as you continue to stroke him up and down, "Yes," you whisper, "I know what happens."

He groans again, swallowing thickly and taking a deep breath as he begins to palm your breasts, "I'm about to come, darlin'. There's gonna be a lot, need to know where to aim it."

You bite down on your lip, trying to keep all your focus on making him feel good and not on the hands now squeezing your breasts, teasing your nipples. "Wh-where do you want it to go?" But you already know the answer.

"Here," he grunts, thumbing your hard nipples, "These. Wanna come all over these pretty tits, sweetheart, will you let me?"

You nod, "Y-yes, Mr. Miller."

It's everything he needs to suddenly pull himself up from the bed and pull your hands off him, gesturing for you to lie back against his pillows. Your heart races in anticipation, eyes going wide and lips parting again as he leans over you and starts to jack his cock, fast and unrelenting. This is what he'd done the other night, when you'd talked on the phone; you'd tried to imagine what he'd looked like, making his own mess... now you're about to find out.

"Stay just like that, babygirl, just like that," he grunts out, pumping himself over and over as he aims the tip toward your bare breasts, swollen from all the attention he's given them tonight. His expression is tense and so is his body, soft stomach suddenly taut with pressure, chest heaving as he works his hand. He looks almost pained, brows scrunched together as he pulls himself over the edge.

"Come," you find yourself saying quietly, a shaky whimper playing at the edge of your voice, "Come for me."

Within seconds of your words your skin is hit with long ropes of a warm, white liquid, splattering across your breasts in uneven patterns. You watch with hooded eyes as Joel slows his strokes, groans louder than he has all night as his release spurts continuously from the head of his cock, painting you all over. His tense expression eases into one of pure bliss as he tosses his head back again, moaning up at the ceiling.

Wow.

Without asking for permission, without even questioning whether it's proper sex etiquette to do so, you find your hand travelling quickly downward to your wet pussy. You frantically begin to rub your clit, still gazing up at Joel's pleasured form, feeling his come slipping down the sides of your breasts onto the sheets below. You throb and pulse beneath your fingers, whining softly to yourself as your body readies itself for your second orgasm.

Joel looks down at you then, cock still in hand, slowly beginning to soften. He sees what you're doing immediately, and the devilish smirk that crosses his face is enough to send you over the edge.

"Fuuuuck," you moan out as you come, trembling in the sheets and curling your toes in pleasure, "Mmmm," you squirm and writhe beneath his gaze until it's over, then lay still and loose on the bed with barely any thoughts floating through your mind.

The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, both of you coming down from your orgasms and trying to collect yourselves. You can't help but look down at your chest, see the thick patches of come splattered all over your breasts, your nipples. How all of that could come from one person is wild to you; this certainly hadn't been taught in any of your health classes.

The memory of being so naïve, so innocent... it makes you grin. Because you couldn't be further from that person anymore, the one who did everything that was asked of her, never listened to her own heart, stayed on the sidelines and focused on math and extracurriculars and God while other people had these experiences. And now here you are - actually having them.

"I guess I'm not a good little Christian girl anymore," you find yourself saying with a shaky giggle; you suddenly feel reinvigorated, sexually liberated... free.

Joel laughs at that, breathless and genuine. He grins down at you, releases his cock and shuffles downward to lay beside you, "You're my good little Christian girl," he says softly, bringing a hand up to cradle your face, "You did so good."

"Did I?" you ask sincerely, "Be honest, I wanna know."

He just smiles and thumbs your cheek, eyes going crinkly, "You were perfect, babygirl, I swear." He leans forward and kisses you gently, sweetly, like you both didn't just do something completely filthy and depraved - but you're starting to realize that maybe it's normal to do things like this, not as taboo and sinful as you'd always thought.

When you part, you're suddenly painfully aware of the state of the bed, not to mention both of your bodies. You're both covered in a sheen of sweat, you've got come dripping down your skin, and both fluids are already beginning to stain the bedsheets. You make a face.

"Can we...can we change the sheets? And can I maybe take a shower?"

Joel chuckles at that, stroking your cheek one last time before pulling back to extricate himself from the bed, "I'll change 'em, sweetheart. You go get in the shower, it's right across the hall."

You slip out of bed on shaky legs, losing your balance a bit and having to grab on to Joel's bed side table for support. You both laugh, and you find comfort in the casual intimacy of it all - both of you standing there naked without any shame or embarrassment. It's strange and new but so refreshing, that familiar safe feeling warming your skin as you make your way to the bathroom. You pick up your discarded nightdress as you go.

You stare at yourself in Joel's bathroom mirror for a bit longer than necessary, eyes wide as they trail up and down your bare form. Splotches cover different parts of your skin, especially your breasts, nipples swollen and dark, not to mention covered in come. You feel an ache between your legs again at the sight and almost roll your eyes at yourself - when will you stop being this insatiable?

Unable to push down the urge to do so, you carefully drag one of your fingers through the layer of white splattered across your chest, fascinated by its sticky texture. He'd marked you, in more ways than one.

The shower is pleasant and relatively quick; you want to get back in Joel's arms as soon as possible. You try not to think too much about the implication of that desire, the safety you feel when you're with him versus the anxiety you feel when you're not and what exactly that means. You try to remind yourself of your roommates and their experiences, their ability to sleep around without catching feelings or getting attached. How do they do it? How do they do it when being close to another person like this is so intimate and special?

You change back into the nightdress after your shower and slip back into Joel's room, finding him laying in the freshly made bed beneath a new duvet. For a moment you think he might be sleeping, quietly shutting the door behind you and tiptoeing over to the bed. However when you get close enough he opens his eyes and looks at you, a sleepy smile spreading across his face.

"Hey there," he murmurs, reaching down to pull back the blankets on the other side - your side, "Get on in."

Your heart pounds harder than it probably should.

Climbing into bed beside Joel feels surprisingly normal, easy. You wriggle underneath the duvet and cuddle in beside him, immediately wrapping an arm around his solid form and nuzzling your head against his shoulder. He's wearing his pajama pants again but his torso is still bare, the hair on his chest tickling your skin. You feel him press a soft kiss to your hairline and you can't help but smile.

"I'm glad I came over," you whisper with a content sigh, "I was... I was starting to worry you didn't want me."

"Really?" he asks softly, brow furrowing, "Why's that?"

You shake your head and nuzzle in deeper, "Just me being self conscious and insecure, as usual."

His hand comes up to rub your back soothingly, circling it with his palm through your thin nightdress. He pulls you in a bit closer, kisses your forehead again with a bit more firmness.

"It's normal to feel that way," he murmurs against your skin, "But I do want you, babygirl. You're all I think about lately, I mean that." You shiver at his words, closing your eyes and willing yourself to believe that he really does mean them like he says. "Most beautiful little thing I've had in my bed for a long time."

You press a gentle kiss to his collarbone in response, nose trailing along the skin. He didn't shower but you're sort of glad he didn't; he still smells like sex, a deep masculine musk that you can only attribute to him now, a scent that makes you feel safe.

"I just feel bad...making us sneak around and all that," you admit, "I know it's childish and silly, but I'm so scared of disappointing my parents. I shouldn't be but I am."

"You're young," he says softly, tenderly, "That kinda stuff still matters, especially when you're livin' with them. I get it, honey. You don't have to defend yourself."

You grimace against his skin, "I just wish this could be more normal. That you could just be a guy I'm seeing instead of my guitar teacher," you shake your head, "It's not fair."

He pulls you in even closer with a soft chuckle, "Well, if it's any consolation, I'm lookin' forward to teachin' you how to play."

You make a face, "Hymns," you say with a roll of your eyes, "You're teaching me how to play hymns. I don't see anything exciting or sexy about that."

"We'll make it sexy," he murmurs, inching his face downward so it's more level with yours, eyes casting down to your lips, "Thought you were my good little Christian girl."

All thoughts suddenly seem arbitrary when he's looking at you like that, your gaze immediately going hazy as he leans in and kisses you deep, pushes his tongue inside your mouth softly and tastes you. You hum against his mouth as a response, thighs tightening together as if on instinct the second you feel yourself begin to throb again.

"Are you?" he asks huskily when he pulls away, eyes dark but tired, "Are you my good little Christian girl, baby?"

You nod, swallowing down your arousal, "Yes, Mr. Miller."

"You gonna let me touch you while I teach you guitar?"

You nod again, biting back a whimper, "Yes, Mr. Miller."

His eyes dart back down to your lips, hand on your back traveling downward to cup your bare ass beneath the nightdress, "You gonna let me fuck that soft little pussy while you play one of your hymns?"

"Yes, Mr. Miller," you repeat, leaning forward to bury your face in his warm skin and inhale him again, moan softly against the hair on his chest, "Yes."

He squeezes your ass for a moment and then brings his hand back up, pulls you to him and wraps his arms around you tightly, "See, babygirl?" he whispers, "Told you we'll make it sexy."

--

Joel's alarm wakes you around six, rousing you from one of the best sleeps of your life. You open your eyes groggily, feeling him lean over you in bed to turn it off, warm chest brushing your arm. You roll over in bed and cuddle into him again, humming sleepily to yourself when he pulls you in close.

"I gotta get ready for work," he murmurs gently into your hair, "Go back to sleep, I'll wake you when it's time to go."

You frown sleepily but don't have the energy to protest, eyes closing again as you melt back into his pillow. You feel him release you from his embrace and press a kiss to your forehead, a simple reminder that this isn't some dream you're having, it's somehow reality. You smile and fall asleep again within seconds.

--

He wakes you up again after about half an hour, seats himself on the edge of his bed and strokes your hair. You peer up at him with a sleepy and satisfied expression, unable to stop the words that fall immediately from your lips:

"Kiss me."

He doesn't need convincing, still thumbing your hair behind your ear as he leans down and kisses you softly, bumps your nose against his and lets your tongue lazily explore his mouth, tasting mouthwash. You sigh contentedly, pulling back to smile at him while he strokes your cheek.

"Sleep good?" he asks you softly.

You nod, remembering the closeness the two of you had shared all night, the soft hugs and tender cuddles, the quiet intimacy you've never experienced with anyone else. "Amazing," you whisper.

He kisses you again before you get out of bed, then takes your hand as he leads you downstairs. You grab your jacket on the way out of his bedroom, still hanging on the back of his door. You look down at yourself as you both reach the top of the stairs, realizing there's no way you'll be able to walk home in an outfit like this without certainly being accosted by a nosy neighbor.

You push down your worry when you reach the kitchen, unable to stop the grin from spreading across your face when you see that the kitchen table is set with breakfast; scrambled eggs and bacon.

"You made me breakfast?" you ask in awe, looking from the food to Joel and back again.

He laughs, walking over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup, "I did," he says with a smile, "And as much as I'd love for us to just sit and enjoy it," he looks down at his watch with a grimace as he takes a sip of coffee, "we have about ten minutes before I gotta drive you home and then get to work."

You sit down at the table, picking up your fork and immediately digging into the eggs, "You're gonna drive me home?"

He seats himself across from you, watching you enjoy what he'd cooked with a fond smile, "Can't have you walkin' home in that tiny little thing, can I?" he says teasingly, "Your parents would wring my neck."

You groan, "Oh god, please don't even joke about that. If they knew..."

He just chuckles and starts to eat, looking up every now and then to give you one of those crinkly-eyed crooked smiles that makes you weak. You smile through mouthfuls of food and feel your skin alight every time you feel his gaze on you.

"I don't usually eat this fast, I promise," you say through a mouthful of bacon, covering your mouth, "It's only 'cause we're on a time crunch."

He shakes his head, still smiling, "You're so damn cute."

You try your hardest not to reach across the table and pull him toward you for a kiss.

--

The drive from his house to yours is extremely short, no less than two minutes. Still, you enjoy the short time you spend in his truck, his big hand spread out on your bare thigh while he hums along to a tune on the radio and gives you soft little sideways glances that makes your heart flutter. You can't help but feel like someone else when you're with him, someone more carefree and outgoing, happier and more experienced. It's only when you slowly near your house that you realize maybe this person is who you really are.

"Stop here," you tell Joel with a grimace, still a few houses away, "My parents are still home."

"How're you gonna get in?" he asks with an edge of concern to his voice, eyeing your house, "Think you can climb the fence?"

You bite your lip, "Probably. I've never done it before but I don't have much choice," you lean your head against the backrest in irritation, "God, why did I choose now to rebel? I coulda learned how to do all this shit when I was a kid if I hadn't been so obsessed with being perfect."

He gives you a sympathetic look, thumb stroking your thigh reassuringly, "I'll stay right here 'til you're inside."

You yearn to lean over the small space between you and kiss him, but you know there's always a risk of a neighbor coming out of their house and seeing you. Instead, you place your hand atop the one on your thigh and squeeze his fingers gently, giving him a small smile.

"I had a really nice night," you say quietly, unsure how exactly this kind of thing is done, "And morning."

"So did I, sweetheart," he replies, voice tender, "We'll do it again, promise."

With one final squeeze of his hand you slip out of his truck, tying your jacket around your waist to cover up your legs a bit. It leaves your upper half more exposed than you'd like, your eyes going wide when you realize how much cleavage this nightdress really shows.

"Here," Joel says, understanding your reaction immediately, "Wear this on top." Without giving you any time to protest he's unbuckling himself to undo his plaid button down, shirking it off his shoulders and handing it to you. It leaves him in a t-shirt and jeans, your eyes trailing to his strong arms without meaning to, the arms that had held you close all night.

"Thank you," you murmur, brow furrowing a bit, "You're sure?"

He smiles crookedly and buckles up again, "I'm sure, angel. You keep that."

Your heart flutters as you wrap his shirt around you, slipping your arms into the much too long sleeves and inhaling the scent of him - your new favorite smell - surrounding you. You're never getting rid of this. Ever.

With a wave you hurry down the sidewalk, feeling slightly ridiculous in your layered and baggy outfit but relieved that you're covered up. You eye the tall white fence of your backyard, trying to formulate a plan in your head as you go. Hop the fence, get a ladder from the tool shed and climb up to your bedroom? But did you even leave your window open? You can't help but feel rage in your chest for your parents rules, the curfew, all the nonsense you've been living with for your entire life. Why the fuck don't you have a fucking key to your own fucking house?

You can feel Joel's eyes on you when you reach the fence, still sitting in his truck a few houses down.

Please, God, you think to yourself as you slip one of your sneakers in between the fence posts and yank yourself up, I know I've sinned. I know I'm a mess. And I'm not even sure I really believe in you anymore. But please, if you're there, don't let me make a fool of myself in front of Joel Miller.

Surprisingly, your prayer seems to work. Climbing up the fence is relatively easy; you keep an eye out for your neighbors as you quickly pull yourself over and flop down on the other side, extremely grateful that neither your jacket nor Joel's shirt gets caught on anything. You hurry to the tool shed, eyeing your bedroom window as you go and feeling beyond relieved when you see that it's wide open; God bless Texan summers.

You decide to wait inside the tool shed until your parents are gone, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself with the ladder. You close the door behind you and sink to the concrete floor, heart pounding in your chest as the reality of what you've just done overwhelms you.

You snuck out to see a man. You slept in his bed. He drove you home so you could sneak back in.

Quiet laughter fills the tool shed, all coming from your own mouth. You grin to yourself and shake your head in the darkness, leaning back against the door and closing your eyes. Who are you? Who is this new person you've become? You don't know, but you love her.

You find yourself pulling your phone out of your jacket pocket and typing out a new message, but this time it's not to Joel - it's to your friends from college:

i think i'm officially a bad girl.