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#i cut her sleeves short
meeeeeeeep78 · 1 year
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a little teruhashi i did in class,,,
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deckoftrickcards · 5 months
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stupid lesbians idk what they’re arguing about someone caption this
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astrodances · 30 days
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Very silly idea I had a couple months ago + good pose practice 😜🦆
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artsandcraftsgeppetto · 8 months
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Im SORRY… my katniss and my peeta
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nightfallsystem · 6 months
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tw stupid vent in tags
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painted-bees · 1 year
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A quick, sloppy little comic about Magritte
[OC's]
(image description under the cut)
[Image Description: It's a vertical comic strip of 14 panels arranged one under the other. The style is realistic, done with sketchy lines in a dark burgundy. It is not colored or shaded and there is no background. The comic features the interactions of a couple, Magritte (also called Margie) and Rafael (also called Raf). Magritte is a young woman, she is wearing a baggy armhole tank top with a tight fitting black top underneath, shorts and boots. She has a messy bun and a small messenger bag slung over her left shoulder. Rafael is her partner, wearing baggy pants, sneakers, fingerless gloves, V-neck t-shirt and an open button-up jacket with a hoodie and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair has short side with long top bangs and a short goatee.
 (First panel): There's only Magritte visible from the waist up. Off screen, Raf says to someone else: “Magritte has our tickets.” Magritte is excited, looking straight forward. Her left hand in on her bag's strap, her right hand rummaging inside her bag. Magritte says: "Yeah! Even made sure to put them in my wallet so that I wouldn't- uh..."
 (Second panel): She is beginning to look concerned, now with her face turned to her back, both left hand holding the lip to open the bag wider and her right hand still rummaging inside. Magritte says: "wouldn't forget.... Hang on, it's not on it's usual pocket. Haha." The last is a nervous laughter.
 (Third panel): Magritte is kneeling on the ground. Rafael is standing to the side and behind her, only his feet visible. Magritte looks frantic, searching inside her bag. Her right arm is forearm deep digging in her bag. Magritte says: "It's definitely here-! It's the one thing I never forget 'cus I never take it out of my bag!" Rafael says, firmly: "Margie, when you took it out to put the tickets in, did you put the wallet back in the bag?" The letters are bolded, with the word "back" underlined for emphasis. Magritte says: "Give me some credit, there's no way I'm that stupid." The last three words are underlined for emphasis.
 (Fourth panel):  The scene has changed and now Magritte and Rafael are in a car. We see them from the passenger's side. Rafael is driving, looking straight ahead at the road. Magritte is hunched forward, hugging herself with the left hand. Her right hand is holding her head. She is looking out the passenger window, avoiding Raf.
 (Fifth panel):  Rafael turns slightly to look at Magritte.
 (Sixth panel):  The point of view is now a side profile view from the drivers side. Rafael has his left arm leaning on the open window, his right hand on the wheel. Magritte is hunched over facing the passenger window. Rafael says: "I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're worried about." Magritte says: "I can literally feel your disappointment."
 (Seventh panel): Back to the passengers side, Rafael is looking at the road. Magritte is frustrated, no longer leaning her head against her right hand and instead her hand is palm upwards. Rafael says: "Well, yes. It is a disappointing situation, but-" Magritte interrupts: "You'd think I'd be able to do the one thing I was asked to do-! That I'd at least learn from the last billion times I forgot shit. Rafael says, quieter: “that's not where I was going with this...”
(Eighth panel):  Magritte has her right hand holding her face with the palm on her cheek, left hand placing the tips of her fingers on her left temple and eye brows. She is frustrated and angry. Magritte says: "It's not like I've got anything more important rattling around in my brain.  But, for some reason, if it's not my music, or like.... food or something, then it's just not a priority. I can't make myself care enough to make it a priority!"
(Ninth panel): She now has both hands in front of her, elbows bent, finger extended in a vague hand gesture as if there was something in front of her. Magritte says: "I'm an adult in my 20s and I still manage my responsibilities like a child. I'd be more dependable if I could just stop and think for a second, but I'd probably forget to even breathe if it weren't for the..."
 (Tenth panel): Her frustrated expression turned to confusion. Her hands are still in the air in the same position as before. Magritte says:"... why are we parked?" Her noticing this stopped her rant.
(Eleventh panel): Magritte straightens up and faces the window entirely, left hand crossed over her body to lean on the car door. Rafael, off screen: "Margie." Magritte says: "Oh." Magritte's inner thoughts are written around her. "He stopped the car to scold me. No, not ‘scold’. Don't be a child about this. He's disappointed and just needs to make sure you understand so you can do better next ti-"
 (Twelfth panel): Magritte is still looking out the window, but now with a shocked expression. Rafael reached with his right hand, and its now resting gently on her upper back. Rafael interrupts her inner monologue with "I need you to stop repeating the shit your parents and teachers and such yelled at you growing up. They were wrong, and nothing you just said makes sense."
 (Thirteenth panel):  The perspective switches back to the driver's side profile. Rafael says: "A poor memory isn't synonymous with poor priorities. Nor does it speak to a lack of maturity. The priority was there, we just have to build a better habit of checking things before we leave the apartment. Both of us. It's gonna take time. You afford everyone else a ton of patience, all the time. Can you please afford some for yourself? The situation sucks, we were both looking forward to this. But it's not the end of the world. We didn't forget things on purpose. So let's take it easy and try to end the day on a good note. Alright?" Magritte says: "Okay... c-can we um...."
 (Fourteenth panel): Magritte has turned to face Rafael and her eyes are filled with tears and they're running down her cheeks.  Rafael looks startled, lifting his arm off Magritte's back. Magritte says: "Can we get some ice cream on the way back?" Rafael says: "O-of course!" End of description.]
This description was written and provided by Hiwi.
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readymades2002 · 6 months
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who even give a fuck. yknow
#getting drunk before work because who gives a shit ^_^d#yesterday was real fucking bad so im thinking like why am i even fucking trying you know none of these assholes even talk to me#unless its to go ermmmm i cant help noticing your department isnt achieving infinite growth when will you guys stop sucking#shit? just curious yhaha and if they want to talk about me they go behind my back and ask other people why im cutting#which a) i wear short sleeves this isnt a secret im keeping and 2) fuck you for deciding its your business and then NOT EVEN#ASKING /ME/ but whatever thy want to get pissy at me for their own failure to communicate fucking let them i dont care#ive been killing myself for this stupid job for a year now i wake up in the morning and my first thought is how bad my knee hurts#im one of the best we've got and what do i have to show for it no one fucking talks to me i dont care#no one will go 'hey did you get fucking sloshed before coming here' becaus etheyre scared of talking to m e for some reason#i literally dont know but if they ask then like who fucking cares this isnt on me i dont feel human doing this job i dont feel like a perso#no one treats me like one unless i waste time quote unquote to not do my job and talk to people who like care if i live or die or whatever#so like who fucking cares even ill do whatever i want ill get drunk before work ill do shit at my job ill talk to someone i love fuck it#whatever!!! should have acted like i was a person instead of ignoring the people youre throwing into a meatgrinder for profit i guess#who fucking cares!#already had my MOTHER get weird about me buyng booze for reasons that are none of her fucking business and that she#wouldnt know the details of anyway if she hadnt been snooping because i have no privacy and no space of my own lol#so might as well drink it i guess it was 30 bucks anyway and i dont have any fucking moneyyyyyyyy so what am i#who am i fucking KIDDINGGGGGGGGGG lol its fucked its all fucked!!! whatever!!! who give a shit!!! nothing fucking matters
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bi-writes · 2 months
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simon being protective of his mail order bride scratches all the right spots in my brain.
mail-order bride
you're almost relieved when you hear the knock at the door. you've been a holding a tree pose for a few minutes too long, and the girl hosting the online yoga class is starting to fry your eardrums with her too-perky voice.
you're sweating bullets, and her hair hasn't moved a fucking inch out of her ponytail.
you mute the television, wiping your forehead before making your way to the front door. you open it with a sigh, not really knowing what you expected to see, but it certainly wasn't the average-dressed man standing on the steps there.
you blink, raising a brow when his eyes roam over you, and you realize suddenly that you're wearing workout clothes, which is showing off a little more than you'd like to some rando standing on your doorstep.
"uh..." you look around a little. "i'm sorry, can i help you?"
he smiles. it's a little unnerving.
"right, yeah, i'm starting a business around here, and i wanted to ask if you've been needing any help with any fixtures around the house. i'm giving a 50% discount if you give me a rating on google."
you open your mouth for a moment, frowning.
"uhm..." you shake your head, "sorry. we don't need any help right now."
"you live here alone? sometimes it's hard to spot when the electric's on the piss, y'know? need a keen eye," he laughs, coming up one of the steps. you shake your head again.
"no, thanks."
he's a wiry man, but he's tall (not taller than your husband, but taller than you). you step back a little and start to close the door. he comes up the steps. out of the corner of your eye, you see the cat slip out between your legs, hissing a little as the distance closes between you and the man.
"wait! can i give you my contact info? i don't have a card, but i can leave you my--"
the sound of simon's truck pulling into the garage gets both of you to look behind. simon doesn't even park all the way inside. he throws the truck door open, stepping out of it, and the man on your steps moves back away from you immediately, making his way off the little porch.
simon looks huge, more so than ever. his steps are heavy, boots hitting the ground like a warning bell, and he's wearing just a short-sleeved shirt that's showing off those glorious fucking arms. you have never doubted simon's strength, but he looks like he could flip a car with the anger that's leaving him in heavy waves. you're surprised that you are not afraid; you just know somehow that simon won't touch you.
"oi!" simon yells, and the man definitely understands he picked the wrong fucking house to be a creepy salesman at when his knees nearly buckle as he tries to walk away. "where the fuck do y'think y'r goin', you twat?"
you sigh deeply, not realizing how much you were shaking until you notice your hands trembling around the doorknob. you watch as simon catches the guy by his dirty jean jacket, nearly lifting him completely off his feet as he drags him towards the fence gate.
"hey! hey! i didn't do anything!"
"i saw ya, ya fuckin' arse, know exactly wot the fuck y'were doin'," simon growls, tossing him onto the sidewalk. he hits the pavement with a cry, holding onto his arm, and simon slams the fence gate closed before pointing at him accusingly. "'f i ever see ya anywhere near m'fuckin' house or even askin' m'wife for so much as fuckin' directions, i'll cut y'r bloody prick off, y'hear?"
you blink as simon comes closer, the cat retreating back into the house once they see him. he keeps walking, crowding you back into the house before he shuts and locks the front door. his chest is heaving, black t-shirt doing nothing to hide the puff of his chest and how large he makes himself when he stands up to other men. he doesn't even need to make himself larger; simon takes up enough space for two men combined.
"he touch you?" simon asks, his voice low. you see his fists clench, and you have no doubt that if you said yes, simon would go outside and paint the pavement a new color with the man's face.
you shake your head frantically, and he lets out a deep breath, reaching up and wrapping a hand around the back of your head and pulling you close.
he bends, pressing his masked forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he breathes in slowly. he rubs at the nape of your neck, soothing you, and you smile when he pulls away, giving him those big eyes that say thank you, thank you, thank you.
simon cocks his head, staring behind you, and you turn with him to see the cat blinking slowly at the two of you from it's place on the windowsill.
"should get you a fucking guard dog instead," simon mutters, pulling his mask off and kicking his boots into the corner. you smile as he walks away, trying to cool your warm cheeks with the backs of your hands.
doesn't he know you already have one?
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marzipanandminutiae · 2 months
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could the beach painting not be intended as a somewhat ~racy~ depiction (see: the topless woman), hence the short/tight clothes?
oh it 1000% is
that is his Fantasy Version of Combinations, I'm convinced
it's like that one artist nobody now realizes loved to depict women half-dressed, because corset-covers look like tank tops to us and petticoats look like normal (even old-fashioned and concealing!) skirts. what was that guy's name? with all the blue silk?
...TOULMOUCHE
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this woman is showing her underwear. a glimpse of petticoat might be fine, but Skirt Hiking To Reveal A Huge Amount? nope. that is a sexy painting.
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Lounging About With My Bodice Inexplicably Open is a popular Toulmouche theme. the white "tank top" is also underwear. note the half-up hair- that is also sexy!
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damnit, Toulmouche why is this lady sexy? there's a kid in the painting! have some decency! but no, Mama is praying with her child while inexplicably having removed specifically her bodice but not her skirt. nor has she just changed into nightclothes before putting the kiddo to bed like a normal person. also that is clearly her chemise and her skirt would not close over it without her corset on; the fat distribution would be all different.
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this one is just gay. Mlle. Red is clearly into Mlle. Nightwear/Lingerie and her sexy 1880s pixie cut (I think? either that or her hair is blending REALLY well with the shadows). I'm here for it
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"this letter is so distressing that I had to stop midway through getting dressed and put on my Bolero of Sadness. and lounge seductively against the screen. sad-ductively, I mean"
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Get dressed to the point of putting bodice on
do not put bodice on
don Tiny Vest
pin roses to corset cover that would 100% negate purpose of corset cover if actually attached to it
???
Toulmouche(TM)
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Once again, that's not even her corset-cover. It's the top part of her combinations. how is her skirt fitting without the corset it was fitted on top of? Seamstresses Hate Local Painter Of Specific Fetish For This One Weird Fitting Trick!
(also, "you wanted to paint a woman in this one very particular unlikely undress state you find hot, but you painted her making out with a mirror and called it Vanity etc." there's actually a version of this called Vanity, and she's fully dressed. this one is The Mirror.)
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I've got nothing. Extremely obvious late Victorian undergarment on top normal late Victorian skirt on bottom, fucking Renaissance Revival pearl-encrusted sleeves. Why not. Why, indeed, the fuck not.
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WHAT IS WITH THE LITTLE VEST
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mejomonster · 1 year
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How can I look more gay
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spaceistheplaceart · 2 months
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coupla ajaa memes
originals below cut as well as ID
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BEGIN ID:
first image is in black and white. it's of Apollo and Trucy on a sidewalk, both standing and facing the camera. Trucy is holding up two peace signs and has her tongue stuck out while smiling. She has short hair that curls up on the ends. There are red hearts and sparkles around her. Apollo is standing upright, hands at his sides, and looking up through his eyebrows at the camera. His face is shadowed completely save for his red eyes. The caption reads "why dis 🐰 look so mad 😂😂😂"
second image is in colour and is of Trucy laying flamboyantly on the top of a piano that Klavier is playing. Trucy has dark skin and her normal outfit minus the cape and tophat. She is smiling and looking upwards while resting her chin on her hands and kicking her feet. Klavier has tan skin and is not wearing his purple jacket, instead has his black undershirt's sleeves rolled up as he plays the piano.
third image is in black and white and is captioned "after first kiss". Apollo is burying his face in his hands, eyes wide in panic, blushing, with little steam clouds coming off him. A thought bubble above him reads: "okay, we kissed. We kissed. I kissed prosecutor Gavin. It's fine, I'm fine... What was I thinking!? there's no way he's actually serious about being interested in me! That kiss had to have been a stupid dare among his... weird celebrity friend circle or- or just to make fun of me or-- or maybe I'm on a prank show? Does he have a prank show? Was all of this just a joke to him? I'm so stupid-"
Klavier is playing air guitar, blushing, and smiling wide. Behind him are the words: "LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOO"
END ID
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babyleostuff · 4 months
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passenger princess(es)
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𝜗𝜚 fluff, established relationship 𝜗𝜚 idol!seungcheol x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 wc: 894
・ ❥ ・ there is nothing that could stop cheol from taking care of his passenger princess(es)
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„hey baby, can you pass me the water bottle?” seungcheol let go of the wheel, so he could grab the bottle from you, not tearing his eyes from the road for a second. 
cheol was a great driver, excellent even in his humble opinion - he has never gotten a ticket in his life, and people told him on multiple occasions how safe they felt with him behind the wheel. he was also very much aware of how hot he looked driving, something he often used against you. with the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up (which accentuated his yummy biceps even more), the expensive watch around his wrist and, for dessert, his other hand resting on your thigh - you had no other way out than to totally thirst over your unfairly sexy boyfriend.
there were times when you found yourself staring at him with no shame, he was that hot. not that seungcheol cared, if he did he wouldn’t flex his biceps on purpose while grabbing the wheel. 
but while he was (obviously) very careful while driving, it seemed that his protective instincts kicked in on a higher level when you were sitting next to him. 
that’s why when you didn’t answer him, or gave him the bottle, he made sure to grab the wheel with both of his hands before throwing a glance at you. 
„my love, did you h-,” words stuck in his throat when he saw your closed eyes and your head resting against the window. cheol knew that sooner or later you would fall asleep anyway, no matter how hard you insisted on not sleeping. “i want to keep you company,” you pouted angrily, and grabbed the AUX, “don’t want you to feel lonely.” it was on the tip of cheol's tongue that there was no chance he would feel lonely, even if you were sleeping. not to mention your little white fluff ball in the backseat that always kept him company. 
„you see, told you mommy would fall asleep,” he laughed, looking at your precious baby in the rearview mirror. kkuma seemed to have the best time looking at the passing cars, barking at some of them, and wagging her tail at others. 
seungcheol sighed with a smile, as he grabbed your hand that was resting on your tummy. „ah, what am i going to do with you, my silly girls.” 
to be honest - he couldn't have been more content. you spent the whole day together on the beach, with kkuma running into the waves (she ended up looking like a wet mop), eating food from the seaside food stalls, walking along the shore, and finally ending the day with a swim together. days off were the best. 
suddenly, his daydream was cut short when he felt you shiver. cheol wouldn’t have been that worried (you sometimes got those shivers in your sleep, which he always found really cute), but you grabbed his hand tighter, as if you were searching for more body heat. he frowned as he ran his hand over your arm, feeling the goosebumps on your skin. 
„why didn’t you just tell me you were cold,” he muttered, half annoyed, and half worried. your hair was still wet, and your clothes damp after you put them over your swimsuit, so if the AC was too low you could get sick - something seungcheol wouldn’t let happen, even if it meant he’d have to fight the illness himself. 
fortunately, there was a gas station a few kilometers away.
he parked right next to a small field of grass so he could also let kkuma out for a moment, and opened the trunk in search of a blanket he could cover you with. cheol also found his sweater and decided that two layers wouldn’t hurt. 
to avoid any neck or back cramps, seungcheol gently repositioned you in your seat so as not to wake you up, but still let you sleep peacefully without straining any muscles. technically he could just turn the heating on, but he just let you freeze for the past god knows how many minutes - he had to bundle you up. „my pretty girl,” he stroked your cheek, leaning in to kiss your nose, before covering you with the sweater. 
„c-cheollie?” you suddenly mumbled, and raised your hand to rub your eyes. your boyfriend couldn’t help but laugh at your slightly confused expression.  
„i pulled over, baby,” he said softly. „you were sleeping and you were clearly freezing, which by the way, please let me know next time if you're cold, so i stopped to cover you up.” 
you looked at him with big, sleepy eyes like you were still trying to figure out which planet you were on - you were clearly still too tired to understand. „’s okay, go back to sleep.” 
some people were afraid of sleeping in cars, after all, there were so many situations that could lead to a catastrophe - what if the driver fell asleep or did not notice the approaching vehicle? 
but you were not scared at all, not in the slightest. if you had to pick one person on earth that made you feel the safest, you’d pick choi seungcheol without a hesitation. in a car or not - you knew he’d protect you no matter what. 
that's why, without thinking, you nodded and closed your eyes, falling back asleep.
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taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl @uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot 
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avocado-writing · 2 months
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if you are taking short fic requests for wade n logan, how about one where typically sunshine!reader comes home sad and while the both of them have that frenemy thing going, they agree on fucking up whoever made reader unhappy :o btw i love your work ❣️
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You fill the apartment with laughter and light and life. You: all parts sunshine and joy, making things a bit brighter even when the world feels so dark. You’re a bit of levity at the end of a day which is usually bathed in blood. A reminder of what’s worth fighting for. 
So when you walk in that night with your jaw grit tight and eyes watery, it’s pretty damn noticeable. 
“Hey. You okay?” asks Logan, voice gruff but full of concern. He’s on the couch, patching himself up from no doubt getting the shit beaten out of him, hopefully not staining the new throw blanket you bought. You head to the fridge wordlessly, grabbing a beer and getting annoyed when you can’t immediately find a bottle opener. He holds his hand out silently, and you give in, allowing him to use one of his claws to help. 
“Long day,” you manage, trying to bite back tears. You hear the bathroom door open and Wade sticks his head out, the sound of conversation irresistible to him. 
“Hey sunshine! How’s my favourite—?” he starts, but trails off when he sees the state you’re in. He goes to jump over the back of the sofa to get to you but immediately falls on his face because he’s missing half a leg. Despite everything a laugh bubbles up from you, inescapable. 
“I’m glad my dismemberment is just a slapstick routine to you, cupcake,” he pouts up at you from the floor. You wipe your eyes furiously with your sleeve and go to help him up, settling him into an armchair - and giving him the opportunity to sweep you into his lap. 
“What’s the matter, honey? Seriously. Who do we need to kill?” he asks. “Is it Deborah? Tell me it’s her. She’s been asking for a knife in the kidney ever since she swiped your lunch two months ago. I’m surprised you haven’t done it yourself, you know we’d help you hide the body.”
“You’re sweet,” you sigh, “but it’s not her, actually. I just had a lot to do today and nobody was cutting me any slack, you know? It got too much.”
“If you need us to talk to anyone,” says Logan, fixing Wade with a look which suggests murdering your colleagues will probably create more problems than solve them, “we’ll do it.”
“Yes! Good-boyfriend, bad-boyfriend routine. Oh, or charismatic-boyfriend, grumpy-but-sexy boyfriend. Or even, slut-boyfriend, slut-but-doesn’t-know-it-yet boyfriend. Maybe that one’s better suited for tonight though…”
Logan growls a warning but Wade just grins, blasé. You giggle. 
“Thanks, guys. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Be a lot more bored and horny,” Wade muses, as Logan mutters “hmph. Apartment would be quieter…”
You drink your beer and smile.  
taglist: : @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse
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luveline · 5 months
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would you ever write about hotch pining after r because he thinks she’s interested in someone else but then she confesses to him that she’s only ever had eyes for him 🥹
You’re shocked Hotch will let them look at him, honestly. When was the last time you saw Hotch receive medical attention? He doesn’t seem happy about it, suit jacket folded in his lap, his shirt cut in three places, most noticeably the left sleeve. 
“His arm is definitely broken,” Spencer tells you. 
“Do you think he’ll let me give him some comfort?” you ask, the two of you with your arms crossed against the side of the second ambulance, where Morgan undergoes a similarly reluctant checkup for his bloody temple. 
“No. You can always try, though. He’ll appreciate the effort.” 
You ready yourself with a deep breath and begin the short walk. It feels long then suddenly over at the same time. The only thing between you and Hotch now is a shoe’s width and the EMT securing his temporary sling. 
“They’re making me an emergency appointment,” he tells you. 
You fight the urge to rub the toe of your shoe into the ground. “Are you in pain?” 
“No. They gave me tramadol.” 
Hotch pushed you hard out of the way of a brawl and took blows meant for you in turn. He never lets you get hurt in the field. At first you’d assumed him to be the overprotective boss, and careful of women in the team, but you’ve caught on now that his motivation wells from somewhere deeper. 
Hotch loves you. He won’t tell you. You have no idea why. 
The EMT says she’ll return and takes her leave. You nod to the patch of metal flooring beside him, legs too tired to keep standing, and Hotch moves over to leave a gap between you suitable for turning into. You sit down with a sigh. Face to face, this close, you can see the different colours of his iris and the scar under his eyebrow clear as day. 
“You okay?” 
“Are you?” he asks with nothing more than a single short nod. 
“I’m worried about you,” you confess. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t like you getting hurt in my place.” 
“I’m your Unit Chief.” 
“If it were Morgan, you wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way. If it were Emily. And we both know I can hold my own.”
He doesn’t look away from your face. “I know.” 
You’re finding it hard to want to scold him. You love him, too. You appreciate what it takes for him to take a fight that was meant for you, and the sentiment behind it. You’d quite like for him to protect you, just not at work. He could glare down potential suitors or argue with people who are rude to you at the grocery store. He doesn’t need to do your job for you. 
You raise your hand tentatively to his face, ignoring his confusion as you rake the hair that falls against his forehead back up. “It’s getting a little long for you.” 
“I’ve been busy.” 
“Me too. I keep meaning to do so much stuff but we get home and I get to my apartment and I just sleep for days.” 
“I wish I did something that sensible.” 
You curl your fingers over his shoulder. Without his suit jacket, you can feel the solidness of his muscle and soft tissue clearly. You rub your thumb in a half circle. 
“Why don’t you sleep much? I wish you would.” 
His eyes flare momentarily. His only tell, a flicker of movement you can’t miss. He’s surprised by something, your question, maybe your tone. “I do sleep.” 
“Not enough.” 
“No, I guess not.” 
You press your cheek to his arm. Can’t help yourself. He’s this strong, stern guy, so used to trying to save everyone that he barely looks after himself, and it makes you sad to think he’d love you and not want to tell you, because why wouldn’t he? Something in him must stop him from acting on it, but that something isn’t in you, not anymore. “Can’t believe you got your arm broken for me,” you murmur, lips to his shirt. You let out a breath, feel the warmth of it pass onto his skin and his following shudder. 
“It wasn’t purposeful.” 
“No? That’s good.” 
“I would do it again,” he says. “I thought you’d be with Morgan.” 
“Morgan’s a big boy.” 
“As opposed to me.” 
“I want to be here with you. I’m worried about you.” You press your face further into his arm, scared to say it even though you know it’s returned. “I care about you so much, ‘n’ you never let me show it.”
“That’s not true,” —his voice climbs higher— “I thought… You and Derek are close.” 
“He’s my friend, Hotch. It’s not like that.” 
Hesitant, tender all the same, Hotch’s uninjured arm slinks around your side to hold you, to bring you closer to his side where you’re hiding. You’re much too old for this, and still you have to confess. 
“I don’t like him,” you say. 
“As opposed to me.” 
You laugh at his repetition. Too embarrassed to say anything more on the subject but wanting to cement it in his head, you raise your head and your hand at the same time, knuckle to his jawline, nudging him to one side. You lean up and kiss his cheek. 
“Please don’t push me out of the way again,” you say. 
Hotch smiles at you, a proper, soft-eyed smile. “I won’t.” 
It’s an obvious lie. 
“Maybe when we go home we can nap together,” you suggest, heart slamming considering the innocence of what you’ve suggested. 
His fingers cradle your side. “You want to?” he asks carefully. 
“You can finally get some rest.” 
He closes his eyes, resting his face against yours. 
2K notes · View notes
theetherealbloom · 3 months
Text
I LOVE YOU, I'M SORRY
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Summary: Your soulmate’s birthday is written on your arm, and it just happened to be the day the world ended.
Paring: Jackson!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Soulmate AU, Apocalypse, ANGST, Fluff, Infected, Violence, Scratching, Age-Gap (the reader is in her 20s) Romance, Unrequited, Longing, Yearning, Secrets, Injury, Blood, Jealousy, Secret Glances, Metaphors, Character Death/s, Raiders, Ambush, Hospital, Stress, Hurt-To-Comfort, 
Word Count: 7k
A/N: I 1000% came up with this one night while scrolling through prompts and AUs I could do for Joel. I saw the Soulmate AU and I was like “oh, yeah,” *evil laugh* and then I heard the snippet for I love you, I’m Sorry and I was like, “yep, perfect, time to go through pain :D” 
Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Song: i love you, i’m sorry by gracie abrams
| Main Masterlist |
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September 26, 1967.
The date emblazoned on your wrist felt like a cruel joke, a bitter reminder of a world that had crumbled around you. The small pulse of the glow on your wrist thrummed, a haunting echo of the past. September 26 was outbreak day. The day the end of the world had come crashing down, leaving chaos and devastation in its wake. The inked numbers throbbed on your skin, a constant reminder that your soulmate was out there, somewhere in this apocalyptic wasteland.
You traced the numbers on your wrist, the ink seeming darker today, wondering if you’d ever meet the person who was meant for you. What kind of person could they be? Were they strong, gentle, kind, or hardened by the harsh world?
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Hiding the mark from Joel for almost a decade took more than just care; it took an absolute miracle. You met Joel, Tess, and Tommy on your way to the Boston QZ. When you saw Joel’s wrist and the date there, you almost stopped breathing. Your birthdate on his skin was an unexpected blow. The ink on your wrist seemed to burn, yearning to connect with Joel. But his mark didn’t seem to react the same way.
When Joel and Tess started sleeping together, the walls between your apartments were paper-thin which seemed to amplify every intimate sound. You often found yourself wandering the hallways late at night, evading FEDRA officers, sitting on the rooftop, looking up at the empty night sky, stars twinkling, the moon bright. You wished for something good in a world gone bad.
You always wore long sleeves, even in unbearable heat. If you wore a short-sleeved shirt, you never took off your jacket, always coming up with some insane excuse about how cozy it was. It had become second nature, a routine you hardly thought about anymore.
As you kept your head down and worked, the grime and sweat accumulates on your skin. In exchange for your labor, you were given ration cards to obtain basic necessities.
"If it's so hot, why don't you just take off the damn jacket?" Joel gruffly asks, his irritation evident in his tone.
You stay silent and shrug, avoiding eye contact as you try to walk away to the next station, hoping to distance yourself from him. But he grabs your wrist, causing you to yank it away in surprise. "Joel, what the hell?"
Joel's tone is sharp and accusatory, causing you to instinctively flinch. "You're being awfully quiet," he scoffs.
You meet his eyes, trying to hide the turmoil inside. "What?"
"Something's off with you. What aren't you telling me?" Joel steps closer, invading your personal space, and you instinctively take a step back.
Panic sets in as you desperately search for a way out. You can't tell him the truth, so you grit your teeth and force out a lie. "I'm just tired."
"You're lying." Joel's words cut through you like a knife, making your heart race and palms sweat. The intensity of his gaze makes it clear that he won't let this go easily.
You try to remain composed, forcing a small smile. "I'm just tired from working all day."
Joel narrows his eyes, clearly not buying your excuse. "Bullshit," he says bluntly.
You bite your lip, feeling the weight of the lie in the pit of your stomach. "I promise, it's nothing."
Joel takes a step closer, making you back up against the wall. Your heart races as you feel trapped under his intense stare. "I know when something's bothering you," he says softly, his tone filled with concern.
You look down at your feet, unable to meet his gaze any longer. You've been hiding this secret for so long that the thought of telling anyone, especially Joel, terrifies you.
"Please," Joel pleads, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. "Just talk to me."
"I have to go," you urgently declare, heart pounding as you turn and bolt away, ignoring Joel's desperate calls for you to stop.
Your heart races as you run through the dark, narrow alleys, trying to put as much distance between you and Joel as possible. The fear and adrenaline pumping through your veins drive you forward, but at the same time, your mind is racing with thoughts of guilt for leaving Joel behind.
"Why did I have to lie?" you think to yourself. "Why couldn't I just tell him the truth?"
But deep down, you know why. You know that if you were to tell anyone about the secret burdening you, it could cost both of your lives. And as much as it pains you to not tell Joel, there is no other choice.
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The memories hit you like a tidal wave, pulling you back to that moment in time. But this time, it feels like you're watching from a distance, like a bystander in your own body.
"You can convince them. You always do." The words echo through your mind as Tess begs you and Joel for help. Tears stream down her face as she pleads, "You have to get her there. Keep her safe. Make things right." Joel shakes his head stubbornly, but Tess doesn't give up. "Please, Joel. Please say yes."
Everything feels surreal as you remember the infected pounding at the door, their screams like a constant reminder of what's at stake. And then Tess is gone, sacrificing herself with the rest of the infected to save the others.
Tess, your friend died that day.
But then everything shifts and you're in a different place, a house belonging to Bill and Frank. Ellie is reading a letter aloud, and you and Joel are there listening. "I used to hate the world," Ellie says, "but I was wrong. When I met my soulmate, there was one person worth saving. That’s why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do and God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep…”
You remember Joel storming out of the house with the letter, his grief and pain palpable in every movement he makes. It's a bitter taste in both of your mouths, but it's also a reminder of why you keep fighting – because there are people worth protecting and worth saving.
Joel may not even realize it, but you've been waiting for him your entire life. And the same goes for Joel.
The scene changes once more; the deafening sound of gunshots pierces your ears and suddenly you're back in the hospital. You're behind Joel, gripping a rifle tightly as you navigate through the chaos and bodies scattered throughout the halls. 
Suddenly, you startle awake. Your heart races in your chest, and sweat trickles down your skin as you struggle to catch your breath.
You’re not out there. You’re in Jackson. You’re safe.
You briefly close your eyes, trying to shake off the lingering feelings of fear and loss from the dream. It had been two years since that fateful day in the hospital, and you were now living in Jackson with Joel and Ellie.
You gasped for breath and clutched your chest, trying to steady yourself with one hand on the softness of the sheets. You clambered out of bed and made your way to the bathroom, washing your hands and then your face. The cool water felt refreshing against your skin as you wiped it with a towel, trying to calm your nerves.
Taking a good look at yourself in the mirror, you saw the exhaustion written all over your face. The restlessness was evident in the dark circles under your eyes, and your hair was in a state of disarray.
"I look like I've been through hell," you muttered to yourself, sighing heavily.
You decided to take a shower, hoping it would help numb the pain. As the water cascaded over you, you let yourself sink into your thoughts, not really focusing on anything except the sound of water hitting your skin. Your bleary vision noticed the small cracks in the tiles on the wall.
Once you dried off and got dressed for the day, you headed downstairs to your small kitchen. The space had seen better days—cabinet doors hung slightly askew, and the pantry door refused to close all the way no matter how hard you tried.
You sighed, pushing the pantry door shut one more time before giving up and grabbing a mug from the chipped shelf. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, the bitter aroma filling the air as you took a tentative sip, savoring the warmth.
Later that morning, you stepped out of your little house in Jackson, pausing to take in the crisp air. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft golden light over the town. You noticed the creaky and loose steps of your porch under your feet, each step emitting a groan of protest. The railings wobbled as you gripped them for balance, making a mental note to add them to your growing list of things that needed fixing.
It was just about daybreak, the sun slowly peeking over the horizon, casting a golden glow. You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jeans, the cozy sweater you wore providing some comfort as you made your way to the stables.
You were part of the barn support staff on rotation and consistently helped out in the greenhouse. Sometimes, you were out on patrol, but today was a barn day.
As you cleaned the barn and took care of the horses, you unconsciously rolled up your sleeves, figuring no one else would be up this early. You were alone in the stables, or so you thought.
Lifting a hand to wipe the sweat from your brow, you sighed. Suddenly, you heard the sound of something dropping and a familiar voice exclaiming, "Holy shit!"
You whipped your head around to the source of the sound and saw Ellie standing there, her eyes wide as she stared directly at your wrist.
"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, hastily pulling your sleeve down.
Ellie took a step closer, her curiosity piqued. "Is that... a soulmate mark?"
You avoided her gaze, feeling exposed. "It's nothing, Ellie. Just... don't worry about it."
"Nothing?!" She looked incredulous. "You’ve been hiding it all this time. Why didn't you tell me?"
You sighed, the weight of your secret feeling heavier than ever. "It's complicated, Ellie. Joel... Joel doesn't know."
Ellie’s eyes widened even more. "Joel? As in... Joel?"
You nodded, unable to find the right words. The truth was out now, and there was no going back.
Ellie moved into your space, her curiosity getting the better of her. Without warning, she grabbed your wrist, yanking it towards her. Her eyes zeroed in on the birthdate etched into your skin, her face a mix of shock and realization.
"September 26, 1967," she read aloud, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze snapped up to meet yours, eyes wide. "That's Joel's birthday."
You tried to pull your wrist back, but Ellie held on tight, her grip firm and unyielding. "Ellie, please," you started, your voice shaky.
"Dude," she cut you off, her tone urgent and insistent. "You need to fucking tell him."
You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "Ellie, it's not that simple," you began, but she shook her head, not letting you finish.
"Not that simple?" she repeated, incredulous. "You've got his birthday on your wrist. You're soulmates! How much more complicated can it be?"
Your shoulders slumped as you finally managed to free your wrist from her grip. You rubbed the tender skin, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "You don't understand," you said softly. "Joel... he's been through so much. And so have I. Telling him now, after all these years... it might just make things worse."
Ellie's expression softened, but she didn't back down. "You think keeping it a secret is any better? He deserves to know. You both do."
You turned away, unable to meet her eyes. "Joel... he's moved on, he doesn’t want anything to do with relationships, and I don’t want to disrupt that."
Ellie snorted, crossing her arms. "Moved on? Joel’s not exactly the moving on type. He carries everything with him, all the time. You think he doesn't feel something for you?"
You glanced back at her, tears welling up in your eyes. "And what if he doesn't? What if he sees this and... and it means nothing to him?"
Ellie sighed, stepping closer and placing a hand on your shoulder. "You'll never know if you don't try. And trust me, he’s stronger than you think. You both are."
Her words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, you just stood there, lost in thought. Finally, you nodded, a small, tentative movement. "I'll think about it," you whispered.
Ellie squeezed your shoulder gently before letting go. "Good. Because secrets have a way of coming out, one way or another. And it's better if it comes from you."
As she turned to leave, you stared down at the date on your wrist, the ink seeming to pulse with a life of its own. 
Maybe Ellie was right. Maybe it was time to stop hiding.
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You sat alone on the bench in the food hall, picking at your meal and lost in your thoughts when a familiar drawl pulled you back to reality.
"Hey, darlin’."
The sound of Joel’s voice made your heart skip a beat, and a sudden warmth spread through your body. You nearly choked on your food, glancing up to see him settling next to you, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Hi, Joel,” you sputtered, trying to regain your composure.
Joel chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Mind if I join you?”
You shook your head, swallowing hard. “No, not at all.”
He leaned back, his shoulder brushing against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “How’s your day been?”
You shrugged, trying to appear casual. “Busy, as always. Barn duties and all that.”
Joel nodded, his gaze lingering on your face. “Yeah, I hear you’ve been workin’ hard. Always see you runnin’ around, takin’ care of things.”
A soft blush crept up your cheeks under his scrutiny. “Just trying to keep busy, you know? What about you?”
“Same old,” he replied, his voice low and soothing. “Patrols, repairs, keepin’ an eye on Ellie. She’s a handful.”
You laughed, the sound easing some of the tension. “She definitely keeps us on our toes.”
Joel’s eyes softened as he watched you, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. The bustling noise of the food hall became a distant hum, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.
“You look tired,” he said gently, concern evident in his voice. “Everything alright?”
You hesitated, the weight of your secret pressing down on you. “Just… a lot on my mind lately.”
Joel reached out, his hand resting lightly on your arm. The touch was brief but sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes searched yours, concern evident. “You sure you’re alright?”
Your breath hitched at the back of your throat, but you forced a smile. “Mmm... yeah. Just going through a to-do list in my mind right now.”
Joel’s brow furrowed slightly, his gaze never leaving your face. “Anythin’ that needs fixin’, darlin’?”
You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just a few kitchen cabinets... the hinges squeak, and the pantry door doesn’t close all the way. Also a couple of loose steps and a wobbly railing too.
He nodded, his lips curling into a small smile. “Well, why don’t I take a look? Might be an easy fix.”
Your heart fluttered at the offer, a mix of gratitude and the thrill of being near him. “You don’t have to, Joel. I know you’re busy.”
Joel chuckled softly, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer before he let go. “I’ve always got time for you. Besides, can’t have you fightin’ with those cabinets every day.”
You laughed, the tension easing slightly. “Alright, if you insist.”
Joel’s eyes twinkled with a warm light. “I’ll swing by tomorrow mornin’, if that’s alright with you.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of spending more time with him. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’d appreciate the help.”
He gave a slow, easy smile that made your stomach flutter. “Great. I’ll bring my tools and we’ll get this place sorted.”
The way he said “we” filled you with a sense of comfort and belonging. “Thanks, Joel. It really means a lot.”
Joel stepped closer, his hand brushing against your arm in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “Anytime, darlin’. You know I’m here for you.”
You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I know.”
His gaze held yours for a moment longer, the air thick with unspoken words and the electric tension between you. Finally, he took a step back, breaking the spell.
“I should get goin’,” he said, his voice a bit huskier than usual. “Gotta talk to Tommy ‘bout somethin’.”
“Right, of course,” you replied, feeling a pang of disappointment but also a thrill of anticipation for tomorrow.
Joel lingered by the table, a hand on your shoulder. “Take care, okay?”
“You too, Joel,” you said softly.
He nodded and turned to leave, but not before giving you one last, lingering look. You watched him walk away, your heart pounding and your mind racing with thoughts of what tomorrow might bring.
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The next morning, you were up at dawn, nerves and excitement thrumming through you as you tidied up the kitchen. Each movement was deliberate, an attempt to keep your mind occupied. But no matter how much you tried to focus, you couldn’t help but glance at the clock every few minutes, your heart racing each time the hands inched closer to Joel’s promised arrival.
As you finished your second cup of coffee, the knock on the door startled you, sending a jolt through your already frazzled nerves. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and opened the door to find Joel standing there, a toolbox in one hand and a warm, familiar smile on his face.
“Good mornin’,” he greeted, stepping inside, his presence filling the room.
“Morning, Joel,” you replied, the rush of warmth at seeing him making your voice tremble slightly.
He set the toolbox down and looked around the kitchen with a critical eye. “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealin’ with here.”
As Joel began inspecting the cabinets and pantry door, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. Every subtle flex of his muscles under his shirt drew your attention, and you found it hard to look away.
“Found the problem,” he said, pulling you from your thoughts. “Just needs a little tightening and some oil.”
You nodded, trying to focus on his words rather than the magnetic pull of his proximity. “I’m glad it’s an easy fix.”
Joel smiled, his eyes locking with yours, sending a spark of electricity through you. “Told you it wouldn’t be a problem.”
As he worked, you found yourself drawn to him, moving closer under the pretense of handing him tools or holding a flashlight. Each accidental brush of your hands sent a jolt through you, the air between you charged with unspoken desire. You felt your pulse quicken every time his fingers grazed yours.
“There,” Joel said finally, standing up and testing the now-silent hinges. “Good as new.”
You smiled, genuinely grateful and a little breathless from being so close to him. “Thank you, Joel. You’re a lifesaver.”
He chuckled, wiping his hands on a rag. “Just doin’ what I can.”
You both stood there for a moment, the kitchen suddenly feeling too small and too big all at once. The silence between you was heavy with everything you weren’t saying, a tension that seemed to thicken the air.
“Joel,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “I really appreciate this. More than you know.”
He looked at you, his expression softening in a way that made your heart ache. “I’m glad I could help. And I meant what I said yesterday—you don’t have to do everything alone.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you took a tentative step closer, the distance between you feeling like an unbearable chasm. “It’s hard to ask for help sometimes. But knowing you’re here... it makes a difference.”
Joel reached out, his fingers lightly grazing your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’ll always be here for you. Don’t ever doubt that.”
The intensity in his eyes made your breath catch. You felt drawn to him, the unspoken connection between you growing stronger with each passing moment. Without thinking, you closed the remaining distance between you, your heart pounding in your chest. 
His breath hitched as you moved closer, the air between you charged with a heady mix of anticipation and yearning. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between holding back and giving in. The warmth of his body so close to yours was intoxicating, and you felt your resolve weakening with each passing second.
“Joel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but filled with all the longing you’d kept hidden for so long.
He swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving yours. “I—”
Just as the air between you thickened with unspoken words, a sudden, sharp knock on the door interrupted the moment. You both turned to see a young woman standing there, her eyes lighting up when she saw Joel.
“Hey, Joel!” she called out, her tone annoyingly bright. “I heard you were here and thought I’d bring over some coffee. Figured you could use a break.”
Joel’s jaw tightened, and you could feel the tension radiating off him. “Uh, thanks, Vanessa,” he replied, his voice strained. “But we’re kinda in the middle of something.”
Vanessa’s eyes flicked to you, her gaze turning cold. “Oh, I see. Well, maybe I could help?”
Before you could step away, Joel’s arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close. The unexpected gesture sent a shiver through you, and you looked up at him, your heart pounding.
“We’re busy, Vanessa,” Joel said firmly, his hand resting possessively on your hip. “Thanks for the offer, but we’ve got it covered.”
Vanessa’s eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in obvious jealousy. “Right. Well, if you change your mind...” She trailed off, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of disdain and envy before she finally turned and walked away.
As soon as she was out of earshot, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Joel’s grip on your waist loosened, but he didn’t let go. His eyes met yours, the intensity in them making your pulse race.
“Sorry about that,” he murmured, his voice low. “Didn’t mean to make things awkward.”
You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “It’s okay. I appreciate the backup.”
Joel chuckled softly, his thumb brushing against your side in a way that sent tingles down your spine. “Guess we should get back to work, huh?”
You nodded, reluctantly stepping back, though his touch lingered in your mind. “Yeah, the step and railing on the porch still need fixing.”
Together, you moved outside, the tension from earlier still simmering between you. As Joel inspected the loose step, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. The way his hands moved with such confidence and skill, the way his brow furrowed in concentration—it all captivated you.
“Can you hold this steady for me?” he asked, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.
You nodded, stepping closer to help. Your hands brushed against his as you held the wood in place, and the contact sent a jolt through you. The proximity, the shared task, the quiet intimacy of the moment—it all felt like a dance, each movement charged with unspoken feelings.
“Almost got it,” Joel murmured, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and it took all your willpower not to lean into him.
Finally, he tightened the last screw and tested the step, making sure it was secure. “There. That should do it.”
You smiled, genuinely grateful and more than a little breathless. “Thank you, Joel. You’re a lifesaver.”
He looked at you, his eyes softening. “Just doin’ what I can.”
As you both stood there on the porch, the morning sun casting a golden glow around you, the world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you. Everything you wanted to say but didn't wash over you in the awkward stillness, and the feelings you shared were nearly visible.
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The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the landscape as you and your patrol partner, Mark, scouted the perimeter. He was easy-going, always ready with a joke or a reassuring word. You found his presence comforting, a steady rock amidst the chaos.
“Think we’ll find anything today?” you asked, keeping your voice low.
Mark grinned, his eyes scanning the horizon. “Nah, it’s been quiet for a while now. Let’s hope it stays that way.”
Just as the words left his mouth, a shot rang out. The next few moments were a blur of chaos and violence. Raiders, hidden in the underbrush, launched their attack. Mark managed to shoot one off you, his quick reflexes saving your life. But then, he was hit, and you watched in horror as he crumpled to the ground.
“Mark!” you screamed, dropping to your knees beside him. Blood poured from a wound in his chest, and his breaths came in ragged gasps. You pressed your hands against the wound, desperately trying to stem the flow of blood. “Stay with me, Mark. Please, stay with me.”
But his eyes glazed over, the light fading. You choked back a sob, fury and grief surging through you as the raiders closed in. You fought with every ounce of strength you had, slashing and stabbing, your vision blurred by tears and the pouring rain that had begun to fall. Blood and dirt smeared your face, and pain lanced through your body from multiple wounds.
The storm roared with fury, whipping the trees and lashing the ground with torrents of rain. You stumbled through the churning chaos, your clothes drenched and clinging to your skin, your muscles burning from the effort of pushing forward. Your vision blurred by the onslaught, you fought to keep moving, each step a battle against the ferocious elements. In that moment, all that mattered was survival - staying alive until the tempest passed.
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It had been hours since Joel last saw them. His graying hair was in danger of being pulled out in frustration. You and Mark were supposed to be back by now. The patrol route you both took was supposed to be a shorter one.
Joel paced back and forth in the settlement, struggling to contain his anger. “Why the hell can’t I go out there, Tommy? She’s my partner, my—” He cut himself off, frustration and fear etched into his features.
Tommy placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice firm. “You’re too close to this, Joel. You need to stay here. I’ll find her.”
Hours dragged by, each minute an eternity. Joel’s rage simmered, his helplessness gnawing at him. He punched the wall, his knuckles splitting, but the pain was nothing compared to the fear of losing you.
Tommy had taken a small team out to search for you and Mark, but there was still no word. The storm raged on, making it even harder to find any trace of you.
Joel’s mind raced with possibilities – had you and Mark been ambushed? Taken by the raiders? Injured and unable to make it back? His heart clenched at the thought of you hurt or worse.
He cursed himself for not going out with you both, for letting his emotions cloud his judgement. He knew better than anyone that in this world, you couldn’t afford to let your guard down. But he had let himself become complacent, too focused on protecting you rather than seeing things clearly.
Bile rises in Joel's throat, the taste of fear and worry leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He swallows hard, trying to push the feeling down as he anxiously waits for any news.
The bitter taste of regret and fear lingered on Joel’s tongue, each thought of what could happen to you making his stomach turn.
The metallic taste of blood was thick on Joel's tongue as he bit down on his lip, trying to hold back his emotions. The rancid taste of fear and worry lingered in his mouth, coating his throat and making it hard to swallow.
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Meanwhile, Tommy pushed through the storm, his eyes straining to pierce the darkness. The wind howled around him, carrying with it the distant echoes of thunder. He called out your name, his voice barely audible above the roar of the tempest. His heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination, each step sinking into the mud as he trudged forward.
The rain came down in sheets, making it nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. Lightning flashed, illuminating the twisted branches and slick ground for brief moments. He stumbled over fallen logs and through thick underbrush, the storm making every movement a struggle.
Tommy's eyes darted around, searching desperately. He felt a gnawing dread in the pit of his stomach, a fear that he was too late. Then, in the distance, he saw a figure lying still. His breath caught in his throat as he hurried over, praying that it wasn't you.
As he got closer, he recognized the bodies of the raiders, their lifeless forms sprawled across the muddy ground. The sight was gruesome, the aftermath of a brutal fight. His heart sank when he saw Mark, his friend and comrade, lying motionless with a fatal wound. He forced himself to look away, his focus now solely on finding you.
Finally, his eyes landed on you, crumpled and barely breathing. His heart pounded in his chest as he knelt beside you. Blood soaked your clothes, mingling with the dirt and rain, creating a grim tapestry that told the story of your fierce struggle.
“Hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Tommy murmured, his voice trembling with urgency and concern. He gently lifted your head, cradling you in his arms. You stirred slightly, your eyelids fluttering open to reveal dazed, pain-filled eyes.
“Joel?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm. The confusion and pain in your gaze made Tommy’s heart clench.
Tommy’s eyes widened as he saw the mark on your wrist, illuminated by a flash of lightning. It was the same date he had seen on Joel’s wrist—the same mark. Realization hit him like a freight train, the pieces falling into place with a sudden clarity. “It’s Tommy,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve got you. Just hold on.”
But you had already slipped back into unconsciousness, your body limp in his arms. Tommy’s heart raced as he gently but urgently lifted you, securing you on his horse. He mounted behind you, holding you close to keep you steady, and spurred the horse into a gallop.
The ride back was a blur of rain and darkness, each second stretching into an eternity. The storm seemed to rage even harder, the wind whipping through the trees and the rain stinging like needles. Tommy’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, fear for your life mingling with the shocking revelation of your connection to Joel.
By the time Tommy reached the settlement, his clothes were soaked through, clinging to his skin like a second, frigid layer. Every muscle in his body ached from the grueling ride and the weight of your unconscious form. The rain had not let up, and his vision was blurred by the relentless downpour. But he didn't stop, carrying you swiftly yet carefully towards the infirmary, each step a struggle against exhaustion and worry.
Joel was just by the large gate of Jackson, pacing anxiously. The moment he saw Tommy approaching with your limp body, his heart seemed to stop. His face, already drawn with worry, twisted into an expression of sheer desperation.
“Is she okay?” Joel asked frantically, his voice cracking. His eyes were wide, darting between Tommy and your pale face for any sign of hope.
“She’s alive,” Tommy said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. He handed you over to the medics who were rushing to meet them. Joel instinctively moved to follow, but Tommy grabbed his arm, his grip firm and unyielding.
“Joel, wait. Look at her wrist,” Tommy urged, his voice low but insistent.
Joel’s eyes followed Tommy's gaze, landing on the mark on your wrist. Recognition hit him like a punch to the gut, the date etched into your skin unmistakable. It was the same as his. Realization dawned with a mixture of awe and dread. “Fuck,” he breathed, the weight of it crashing over him. The one person he couldn’t afford to lose was you, and now he knew why.
The medics were quick, their movements efficient as they assessed your injuries and began to prepare you for treatment. They lifted you onto a stretcher, intent on rushing you inside where they could better tend to your wounds. Joel moved to follow, his protective instincts kicking in, but the medics tried to hold him back.
“Sir, you need to let us do our job,” one of them said, a young woman with a firm but gentle voice.
“No,” Joel growled, his eyes blazing with determination and fear. “I ain’t leavin’ her side.”
Tommy stepped in, trying to reason with him. “Joel, you gotta let the doctors work.”
Joel’s fists clenched at his sides, his whole body trembling with the effort to contain his emotions. “I can’t… I can’t lose her, Tommy,” he choked out, his voice raw with pain and anger.
“I know, but you stayin’ in there won’t help her. You’ll only be in the way,” Tommy said, his tone gentle but firm. He placed a reassuring hand on Joel’s shoulder, trying to ground him. “You’ve gotta trust them to do their job. Let them help her.”
Joel’s jaw tightened, his eyes locked on the door to the infirmary where they had taken you. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to be by your side, to make sure you were safe. But he knew Tommy was right. With a heavy, reluctant nod, he allowed himself to be led away, his heart aching with every step.
The minutes stretched into an eternity as they waited. Joel paced back and forth, his mind racing with worry. He could still see the image of you, broken and bloodied, every time he closed his eyes. The mark on your wrist haunted him, a constant reminder of the bond that tied you together. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he couldn't bear to lose you.
Tommy stood by, watching his brother with a mixture of sympathy and concern. He knew how much you meant to Joel, and the revelation of the soulmate mark only intensified that bond. He wished there was something more he could do, some way to ease Joel’s pain.
Finally, a medic emerged from the infirmary, her expression tired but relieved. “She’s stable,” she announced, and Joel felt a weight lift off his shoulders. “She’s got a long road to recovery, but she’s a fighter.”
Joel nodded, his eyes filled with gratitude and determination. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He would stay by your side, no matter what. The bond you shared was too precious to ever let go.
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Days blurred into a haze of sterile white walls and the rhythmic beeping of machines. You drifted in and out of consciousness, each time greeted by the comforting sounds of Joel and Ellie. Joel's low, soothing voice often filled the room, whether he was talking to you or humming a soft tune. Ellie would sit by your bed, recounting stories with her usual animated flair, her voice a bright spot in the darkness.
One evening, as the storm outside mirrored the chaos within, you stirred slightly. The weight of Joel's hand on your wrist was a grounding force, his presence unwavering. He looked exhausted, his eyes heavy with worry, but he never left your side.
In one of your more lucid moments, you caught snippets of Joel's soft singing, the melody wrapping around you like a warm blanket. His voice was a balm, a tether to the world you were trying so hard to rejoin. He would often lean down to press gentle kisses to your forehead, his touch both a promise and a plea for you to come back to him.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you awoke fully. Your throat was dry, and every muscle ached, but you were aware. The weight on your wrist brought your gaze to Joel. He was slumped in a chair beside your bed, his head resting on the edge, fast asleep. He looked worn out, dark circles under his eyes and a shadow of stubble on his jaw.
“You’re awake,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering open as if sensing your gaze.
“I...” Your voice came out as a croak, and you winced.
“Here, drink up,” Joel said, quickly pouring a glass of water and holding it to your lips. You drank greedily, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat.
After a few sips of water, you managed to find your voice again. “How long have I been out?” you asked, your throat feeling slightly raw from disuse.
“Almost a week,” Joel replied, his eyes never leaving yours.
“A week?” you repeated in shock. It felt like only a few hours had passed.
Joel nodded, his hand gently caressing your cheek. “You were pretty out of it for a while there.”
You felt a pang of guilt for causing so much worry and trouble for everyone. “I’m sorry,” you said softly.
“Don’t be sorry,” Joel said firmly, his eyes filled with intensity. “Just focus on getting better.”
“I will,” you promised, grateful for his unwavering support.
The relief on Joel’s face was palpable, but as he set the glass aside, a flicker of anger flashed in his eyes. “Were you ever going to tell me?” His voice was quiet, but the intensity of his gaze was almost too much to bear.
You looked away, shame burning your cheeks. “Trust me, I know. It's always about me.”
Joel's jaw clenched. “I just… I didn’t think you could ever want me.” Your voice broke, the years of hiding and pretending catching up to you.
Joel’s expression softened, and he took a step closer, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek. “You’ve always been more than I deserve,” he murmured. “I just wish you’d told me.”
Tears filled your eyes, and you struggled to breathe. “I love you…” you choked out, the words finally escaping your lips after years of being held back. “I’m sorry.”
Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you sobbed. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “We’ll get through this. Together.”
In the midst of life's storms, a quiet calm settled around you both, like discovering an oasis in the desert. Amidst chaos and pain, you found your soulmate, and love emerged as the unwavering light guiding you through the darkest nights.
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propertyofwicked · 3 months
Text
PROMINENT - LN
based on this request ✧ my inbox is open for requests (or if u just want a chat!) ✧
warnings - smut! MDNI!! unprotected, praising, sorta soft!dom, light choking, hand/arm/vein kink (honestly idk) - NOT PROOF READ
sorry for the inactivity i have been busy with moving out :( but im back!!
masterlist the playlist
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she couldn’t help it; her eyes were drawn to them every time. lando’s arms were mesmerizing, each vein a winding path that her thoughts followed into daydreams she’d never dare voice. it started innocently enough, just a fleeting glance when he’d push his sleeves up, revealing the intricate map on his forearms. but it quickly became an obsession, her mind wandering to places she struggled to pull it back from, especially when he was near.
lando noticed. he noticed the way her breath would catch, how she’d flush and her eyes would glaze over slightly whenever he leaned in close. he’d always had a playful side, and this newfound power he had over her reactions was too tempting to resist.
so, he began to tease her, subtly at first. leaning on the counter beside her, stretching out his arms so the veins popped against his skin, he’d pretend to look for something just out of reach, giving her an eyeful. he loved the way her cheeks would turn pink, and how she’d suddenly find something very interesting to focus on elsewhere.
they were alone in the kitchen, her preparing dinner while he looked for a snack. lando sauntered over, resting his forearms on the island countertop right in front of her. she tried to concentrate on chopping vegetables, but he made it impossible. he leaned in further, his breath warm on her neck, and she felt the familiar heat rush to her face.
“need any help?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.
she shook her head, trying to keep her eyes on the cutting board. “no, i’ve got it.”
but lando wasn’t one to give up easily. he shifted closer, so close that she could feel his body heat, his veins standing out prominently against his tanned skin. he reached out to steady her hand, and she nearly dropped the knife.
“careful,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand, his arms bracketing her against the counter, “wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
“lando…” she started, swallowing hard, but her voice betrayed her, breathy and unsteady.
“yeah?” he smirked.
she turned to look at him, her resolve crumbling under his gaze. “you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”
“maybe. i just love seeing you blush,” his replied, grin widening.
her face heated further, but she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips.
“you’re impossible.”
“maybe,” he repeated, leaning in to kiss her cheek, right where the blush was brightest. “but you love it.”
he trailed his kisses across her skin, pecking her lips quickly before cascading down her jaw and neck.
“so, why do you like my arms?” he asked her coyly, though not truly expected a response.
“i think they’re pretty,” she replied quickly, “but i also like the way your veins run along them,” she added, a hesitant finger moving to trace a line from the back of his hand leading up his forearm.
the room fell into complete silence, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of slightly accelerated breathing. lando’s gaze ceased to leave hers as his hands moved closer to her, wrapping around her waist tightly - her brain worked hard to decipher what lando was thinking, however it didn’t need to work too hard as his hips pushed up into hers.
her eyes closed, leaning into the touch of his fingers following the path of her arms, along the skin of her neck till his hand held her jaw, his thumb tracing across her parted lips.
“i feel the same way about your lips,” lando announced, dipping his head to press short kisses along her cheek till they met her lips. he kissed her softly, nipping at her lower lip as she deepened the kiss, her hands moving to tug at the soft curls at the base of his head, “- always look so soft. so tempting. ‘love when they’re wrapped around me,” he added, stepping back slightly and taking her face in his hands as though he needed a better look at her.
she loved his attention, feeling lightheaded any time he touched her so delicately. he moved closer to her once more, kissing her with such intensity till she was pushed up against the counter, back arching into his embrace.
“jump,” he told her, holding onto her tightly as she jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist for him to move them both to the bedroom. her eyes dropped, focusing intently on the way his arms flexed as he carried her, the veins running along his arms seemingly standing out more as they moved into the orange sunlight shining through the windows. he loved the effect he hand on her, knowing she would do anything he said filled him with a sense of power.
he placed her on the edge of the bed, peeling the t-shirt from her body before letting her lean back to rest on her arms, her eyes looking up at him. his body moved to hover above hers, propping himself up as his hands travelled down her body, his lips kissing every inch of uncovered skin till he was knelt in front of her, tugging at her shorts momentarily before removing them fully, her underwear in tow.
“you’re so beautiful,” lando murmured against her thigh, trailing kisses along the skin till he reached her heat.
“lan please,” she whimpered, desperate to feel him all over her, tired of waiting. her broken voice went straight to his cock, straining against his trousers as his hands moved to grip the underside of her thigh, pushing them up to grant him full access.
“needy,” he replied, though he ran two fingers through her folds, feeling how her body responded to him.
“but you love it,” she breathed out, laughing lightly at their full circle moment.
“i do,” he conceded, trailing his fingers down until they reached her entrance, pushing in slowly whilst his tongue found its way to her clit. he started off gentle, allowing her to believe he was taking it slow - however he quickly shattered her delusion by gripping at her thigh harder and eating her like a man starved. he alternated from flicking his tongue over her clit and taking her fully into his mouth, sucking at her sensitivity, his fingers setting an unrelentless pace, twisting inside of her, sporadically connecting with the spot that had her back arching from the bed and her hands reaching to clutch at the curls atop his head. lando grunted into her at the feeling, the vibrations sending shockwaves through her body that had her crashing around him, her legs tightening around his head.
“fuck,” she mumbled, sitting back up on her arms to look down at him, though he wasn’t done. her eyes settled on his arms once more as he pulled his fingers from her, and grabbed at her legs, pushing them back up as his tongue made to clean up the mess she had made. lando crawled back up her body, his form above her was almost intimidating, his pupils darkened with lust as her hands reached out to trace the veins on his arms once more.
his head dropped, kissing and nipping lightly at her neck as she reached to tug at the hem of his shirt, pulling it quickly from his body before he rejoined his lips to her skin.
“such a good girl,” he told her, looking down on her as he stood in front of her. her face was red, and her chest still heaved - though he didn’t have long to look before she was pushing herself up fully, hands reaching out to toy with the zip of his trousers. though she didn’t undo them as he expected - no, she began to palm his bulge through the material, looking at him with a coy smile as she feigned innocence.
“don’t tease,” he warned her, taking her hands in his and directing her fingers to his zip, but she continued to grip his clothed cock. his hands took hers again, pulling them away from him and holding them above her head as he continued to free himself with one hand, “- what did i just say?”
“don’t tease,” she answered him, still smiling sweetly.
“and yet you continued to tease,” he prodded, using the grip on her wrists to push her back to lie on the bed. lando reached for his belt, stripping it from his belt loops and using it to tie her wrists up above her head.
“too tight?” he asked her, watching for any sign that she was uncomfortable, but instead he was met with a shake of her head to which he pressed a short kiss to her lips.
the rest of his clothes soon joined the pile amassing on the floor, and he was standing over her, cock in his hand as he ran the length through her folds. she whined out, desperate to feel him but he silenced her pleas with a kiss, his lips caressing hers gently as he pushed into her slowly. he was taking time to enjoy the moment, trying to memorise every little detail about her - the way she felt, her lips, the way she responded to him. it was something he would never get tired of, something he never wished to forget.
his thrusts suddenly grew erratic, hips slamming into hers quickly, punishingly.
“taking me so well,” lando grunted, his mouth nipping at the skin of her neck as he felt his own pleasure taking over, "look so pretty like this, making a mess on my cock as i fuck you stupid," he added, his praise and the tightening grip that kept her wrists above her making her brain short circuit. her head rolled to the side, eyes staring intently at the arm that held hers, enamoured by the way his muscles flexed with every jut of his hips.
lando bit back the urge to tell her to look at him - usually, he wanted to see her face when he fucked her, but right now, he was obsessed with the way she looked at him, taking in the sight of him working her to a finish. he felt her tighten around his length with every thrust, squirming beneath him as she got closer and letting out strings of pathetic moans that increased in volume and incoherence. he wanted to drag the moment out for as long as he could, thoroughly enjoying the way she surrendered herself to him completely all because his veins were noticeable.
“you look so hot like this,” she told him, panting.
“me? you should see what you look like baby,” lando replied, though slightly distracted by her hips rolling up into his, matching the pace of his thrusts as though she was begging for relief - begging him to bring her to her climax. she looked completely ruined, mascara running down her face lightly as tears pricked in her eyes, her lip gloss smudged - and he was the reason. it awoke something primal within him, an animalistic desire.
“you wanna cum again? huh?” he asked her, slowing the rocking of his hips, choosing to slam his cock deep into her harshly, before slowly pulling out. over and over again.
“please, don’t stop. please,” she uttered, choking on her words slowly as he bottomed out inside of her again. this time, he didn’t pull out. instead, he rolled his hips into hers, the tip of his cock pushing harshly into her spongy walls, teasing her sensitivity. the pleasure was overwhelming, coursing through them, consuming every fibre of his being as her vision began to darken, only able to see starts spinning through her mind.
the knot in her stomach tightened, threatening to snap at any moment, her chest arching as she attempted to pull her hips back, desperately trying to recreate his thrusting motions. lando soon got the hint, resuming his ruthless pace as he slammed back into her. her hands opened and closed, unable to move but overcome with desire to grip at something, anything.
“f-fuck please. please,” she begged.
“i know, angel, i know,” he comforted, feeling her tighten around his length as the two got closer and closer to relief, “doing so good f’me, baby. such a good girl.”
she moaned out his name, mewling loudly in appreciation of the tenderness in his voice, but she needed more. he knew she needed more, but he couldn’t reach her clit without losing his balance and toppling over. so, his mouth found her neck once more, sweet kisses pressed along her flesh until he reached her nipple, his tongue drawing circles around it before taking it into his mouth, cheeks hollowing as he sucked at the flesh. her head dropped to the side again, staring intently at the arm that kept her caged to the bed.
still, she needed more. he manoeuvred himself lightly, pressing his entire body weight on the arm keeping her trapped beneath him, hips still snapping into hers, the tip of his cock intruding her cervix with every thrust. lando’s free hand trailed her body, settling gently on her neck, his fingers digging into the skin of her airway lightly.
“this ok?” he checked, knowing it was usually fine but still needing her reassurance. she nodded rapidly, her hips raising and rolling into his in a sign of approval. if he tried, he could feel her veins pumping blood beneath his fingers - she truly was the perfect woman for him, knowing how much she trusted him flooded his own veins with a strange sense of relief, love and comfort.
"cum for me, c'mon. i want to feel you making a mess on my cock."
his command was all she needed to be consumed by pleasure, the combination of his dirty words, his punishing thrusts and the pressure he exerted on her throat finally pushing her over the edge. her whole body trembled beneath him, pleasure coursing through her body, her legs flinching with every wave.
lando’s movements became more erratic and yet sloppy as he chased his own high, his grip on her neck softening as his mind went blank with his own desire to finish.
“fuck, angel. so good,” he grunted, flows of incoherent praises tumbling from his lips as he let go of her wrist, pushing back to stand and grabbing her thighs to pull her closer to the edge of the bed. he pulled her hips up from the bed, holding her legs tightly around his waist as he thrusted into her relentlessly, using her body to reach his own high. she looked up at him with half-closed, unfocused eyes, lost in the pleasure that still swam around her brain. he looked even better, eyes fully closed, head thrown back and his mouth parted as he moaned out for her.
she felt overstimulated, mentally and physically. her walls tightened around him trying to offset the slight sting and fatigue - the feeling sent him into overdrive. lando came quickly with a grunt of pleasure, emptying his load inside of her and allowing her sporadic tightening to milk him dry, painting her walls in a pearly white liquid. his balance faltered for a moment as his entire body jutted, dropping her body back on the bed harshly and pulling his length from her. he joined her soon after, laying his entire bodyweight on her as he panted, struggling to catch his breath.
“that was hot,” she told him, freeing her hands from their restraint as she moved to stroke his back, her nails softly tracing along his skin.
“feral. it was feral."
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