#is this not the softest shit. these two really take it out of me

[skzophreniic]

⍣ ೋ cw: explicit sexual content, penetrative sex, creampie, chan is a wee bit manipulative, mdni

notes: im currently out of the country so this is a queued post I had pre-written to keep you hoes guys well fed 😇 can't wait to read what you guys think when i get back <3

You were just trying to get work done.

Really. The spreadsheet is still open on your screen, cursor blinking accusingly from where you left it. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, your eyes blurry from staring too long, but still—you’re trying.

Chan is the one who’s not letting you.

“Just the tip,” he whispers again, soft and sinful in your ear, voice cracking like he means it. Like it’s not the third time he’s said it in the last two minutes. His hands are already under your hoodie, thumbs sliding across the swell of your hips, coaxing you back into his lap even as you lean forward to type.

“Chan,” you sigh, warning in your voice.

“I won’t even move, baby. Just let me feel you,” he breathes, cock straining against his briefs beneath you. “I just need it for a second, that’s all. You can keep working—I'll be quiet, promise.”

You glance over your shoulder. His pupils are blown wide, lips parted, cheeks pink. He’s already flushed like he’s inside you. Like this whole thing isn’t absolutely deranged.

You’re still in his lap. You should’ve never sat down there in the first place, but he’d looked so sweet. All pouty and clingy and pathetic, murmuring “don’t wanna be away from you,” pulling you down with him on the chair like you weren’t busy.

Now his hands are splayed across your thighs, warm and firm, shifting you just enough that you can feel the outline of him, thick and ready and twitching.

“Chan, I have three reports due tonight—”

“And I’ll help,” he interrupts, kissing the back of your neck, teeth grazing your skin. “Just lemme slip in a little. Just the tip, baby. Just want to warm up in you while you work—feels good for both of us, yeah?”

You narrow your eyes at your laptop, like it’ll give you strength. But your traitorous body is already pressing back into him, pulse fluttering low.

He feels it.

“See? Your body wants it too,” he whispers, voice cracking into a whine. “So warm for me already, baby. Don’t be mean.”

You feel him shift beneath you, one hand slipping between your thighs now, fingers curling over your waistband and tugging slow—so slow it makes you shiver. He’s savoring it, like dragging it out will make you beg instead. Like he’s waiting for that last thread of resistance to snap.

“C���mon,” he murmurs, kissing just behind your ear. “Let me in. Just a little. Just to take the edge off.”

You lift your hips without meaning to.

It’s instinct. That’s all. Instinct and exhaustion and the heat of his breath behind your ear. You don’t even look at him as you help shimmy your shorts and underwear down to your knees, keeping your eyes on the screen like that’ll anchor you.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes.

And then he’s there—pressing the thick head of his cock between your folds, guiding it with a shaky hand. He groans the second he feels how wet you are, lets out the softest “shit,” and you feel the tremble in his thighs as he drags the tip through your slick again and again.

You should stop him. You don’t.

He notches himself at your entrance, breathing through his nose like he’s trying to behave.

Then slowly—slowly—he sinks the tip inside you.

Your hands curl into fists on your thighs.

“You okay?” he asks, already breathless.

You nod, just once. Not trusting your voice.

“Good,” he pants, lips brushing your nape. “Good girl. Just like that. Just the tip. Just the—”

He pushes deeper.

“—fucking tip, baby, shit—”

He doesn’t bottom out.

He could. He’s close—closer than he said he’d be. But he stops, hips twitching, breath caught in his throat like it physically hurts him to hold back.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he whispers, rocking his hips just enough to press deeper into your heat, but not enough to give you relief. “So warm, so fucking wet. You’re dripping all over me, baby.”

You shake your head, trying to deny it, but his hand slides between your thighs before you can speak. His fingers come back soaked.

“Look at this,” he murmurs, holding them up, then licking them clean. “You sure you don’t want it?”

You don’t answer. You can’t.

Your eyes flick back to your laptop screen—numbers blurring, words meaningless. Your body is hot, trembling, strung out on the edge of something you don’t want to name. You should tell him to stop.

You don’t.

“I could make you feel so good,” he says, kissing your shoulder. “So good you’d forget your deadlines. Forget your name. You’d let me fuck you right here in this chair and you’d still thank me for it.”

You clench around him, involuntary.

He laughs, soft and breathless. The sound curls straight into your gut.

“You feel that?” he asks, nuzzling behind your ear again. “Your pussy knows what you want even if you won’t say it. She’s so honest. She wants me.”

You press your lips together to keep from moaning.

He feels it—of course he does. He’s tuned to every twitch, every breath, every little squeeze of your body around him. And right now, you’re holding onto restraint by a thread, and he’s sawing through it with every word out of his mouth.

“She’s being so good for me,” he murmurs, one hand drifting back between your legs to stroke where he’s barely inside you. “So soft, so greedy. Just keeps pulling me in, baby.”

You grab the edge of the desk like it’ll help you hold yourself together. It doesn’t.

“She wants more,” he continues, the tease thick in his voice now. “I bet you do too. You want it, don’t you? Want me to fill you up, fuck you dumb, keep you nice and stuffed while you try to finish your little reports—”

“Christopher—”

His name breaks in your throat, barely a breath, but it makes his whole body shudder.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, like you just said something filthy. “Say it again.”

You don’t. You can’t. Your lips part, but nothing comes out, and he takes that as its own kind of answer.

He noses along your jaw, voice a cracked whisper. “You know what that does to me. You say my name like that and expect me to just sit still?”

He rocks his hips—again, shallow. Controlled. But deeper this time. Enough to make you gasp. Enough to knock the breath from your lungs when he sinks just a little more inside.

“Fuck—look at you,” he whispers, holding you tight as you writhe in his lap. “You’re taking me so good, baby. Didn’t even need prep. Didn’t need to be told. Just opened right up like you were waiting for me.”

You shake your head, weak. “You said—just the tip—”

He hums, low and teasing. “I said that. But you didn’t say no when I gave you more.”

You don’t respond.

“Didn’t stop me,” he murmurs, breath warm against your cheek. “Didn’t push me away. You’re still letting me fuck myself in, baby. You know it's yours, baby .”

His voice is wrecked now, slurred with need, but still so tender. So sweet it makes your throat tighten. His cock pushes deeper like he’s punctuating the words—inch by inch, careful and slow, dragging it out like he wants to feel every trembling second of you giving in.

“And you’re mine,” he whispers. “All mine, aren’t you?”

You nod. Barely. But it’s enough. You hear the way his breath catches in his throat, feel the way his arms tighten around your waist like he needs to hold you to keep from falling apart.

“Fuck, I love you like this,” he groans, forehead pressed to your temple. “So pliant. So sweet for me. Just letting me take whatever I want.”

Another thrust, deeper. His cock finally, fully sheathed inside you.

Your breath stutters. Your body seizes around him.

And he moans, low and ragged and grateful.

“God—baby—look at that. Took all of me, didn’t you?” he murmurs, hips barely moving now, just enough to let you feel the stretch, the weight of him. “Knew you would. Knew this tight little cunt missed me.”

You gasp, jaw slack, spine curving back against him.

He laughs softly, mouth against your skin. “Yeah. That’s it. You can pretend you didn’t want it. But look at you now.”

He rocks up once—slow and deep—and it’s too much. You cry out, sharp and quiet, and his hand immediately comes up to cover your mouth.

“Shh, shh—baby,” he soothes. “You said you had work to do, remember?”

You nod against his palm, eyes fluttering, mouth parted around gasps you can’t even hear over your heartbeat.

“Then be a good girl,” he whispers, voice like silk soaked in sin. “Keep working.”

His hand drops from your mouth, slides down to your thigh as he rocks into you again—slow, syrup-thick thrusts that force soft whines out of you with every drag.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmurs. “Hands on the keyboard. Don’t make me ask again.”

You blink at the screen, vision blurry, legs trembling where they straddle his. The spreadsheet is still open. The cursor still blinking. You could type something. You could pretend.

That’s what he wants, after all.

Just pretend.

You bring your hands up, fingers shaking as you rest them over the keys. You press a few—nonsense inputs—like that’ll satisfy him. Like it’s not so obvious how far gone you are..

“Good girl,” he says, hips snapping up once—sharp and precise. “That’s it. Keep typing while I fuck you full.”

Your fingers stutter over the keys—random characters stringing out across the screen in some hopeless imitation of productivity.

It doesn’t matter. Not to him. Not to you.

Not when he’s buried to the hilt inside you, cock dragging deep and slow with every calculated thrust. Not when every word he says drips honey and sin into your ears.

“Such a pretty little worker,” he groans, mouth brushing your temple. “Look at you. Taking my cock like you were made for it, still trying to do your job.”

He presses a kiss there, tender, like he isn’t actively wrecking you from the inside out.

Your legs tremble again. Your hands slip off the keyboard for a moment and he catches your wrist, brings it back into place.

“Uh-uh,” he murmurs. “No slacking.”

He thrusts deeper, harder, and the gasp you let out nearly knocks your laptop off the desk.

You can’t feel your fingers anymore. Can’t see the screen. The spreadsheet is a blur of black and white and nothing.

But he’s everything.

The way his voice wraps around you like velvet. The way his cock drags through your soaked heat, claiming every inch like he was built to be there. The way his breath stutters when your walls flutter around him, like he’s surprised you still want him after everything.

“Gonna come for me again?” he pants, voice ragged. “Look at you—so fucking perfect. So wrecked and still letting me use you. You’re gonna give it to me, aren’t you, baby?”

You nod. You don’t even try to speak.

Because he’s right. He’s always right when it comes to your body. Your reactions. Your limits. He reads them like scripture, responds to them like worship.

His hand finds your clit again, and this time, he doesn’t play. No teasing. No mercy.

Just pressure. Rhythm. Just enough.

Your body tenses instantly, the tight coil in your gut snapping before you even realize what’s happening. The orgasm hits hard, violent in how it grips you. You whimper, legs buckling, forehead pressed to your forearm on the desk.

And Chan—he doesn’t stop.

Not yet.

He fucks you through it, holds you tight as your cunt spasms around him, praises spilling from his lips in a broken rush.

“That’s it. That’s my girl. So good for me. So perfect. Letting me fuck you stupid while you’re working—fuck—you're so fucking sexy—”

His voice cracks on the last word, like he’s overwhelmed by his own need, like even he can’t believe how far gone you’ve made him. His thrusts stutter, his hands gripping your hips too tight to be gentle—but even now, there’s love in every filthy word that spills from his mouth.

“I can’t—fuck, baby—I’m gonna come—”

And you just nod, barely able to breathe, still shaking from your own release, still dripping with him, stretched and full and ruined.

“I need it,” he groans. “Need to come inside you again, baby, please—wanna fill you up, wanna make you mine—”

You don’t even need to say yes. Your body says it for you, clenching tight around him, pulling him deeper, and that’s it.

He breaks.

“Fuckfuckfuck—baby—god—”

He spills into you with a desperate cry, hips jerking up into yours as his orgasm tears through him like a storm. He holds you there, flush against him, trembling beneath your weight as his cock throbs deep inside.

And then—

Stillness.

Silence, except for the sound of your breathing, ragged and uneven, and his heart pounding against your back like a war drum.

He doesn’t move.

Doesn’t pull out.

Doesn’t even let go.

He just wraps his arms around your middle and buries his face in your neck, breath hot and shaky against your skin.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “You’re unreal.”

You laugh—barely. More like a broken breath through your nose. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Worth it,” he murmurs, smiling into your shoulder. “Die full.”

You snort, weakly. “Shut up.”

He kisses your neck, then your jaw, then the space just behind your ear that makes you shiver again. “You okay?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“I’ll get you cleaned up in a second,” he promises, voice already softening with aftercare. “But right now…” He lets out a content sigh, arms tightening around your waist. “I just wanna hold you.”

You hum and let yourself sink into him, hips still nestled against his, cock still buried inside you, warmth still spreading between your thighs.

He strokes your hair, pressing another kiss to your temple.

Then—after a long pause—he peeks over your shoulder at the screen.

“…You didn’t finish the report,” he says solemnly.

You groan, letting your head drop forward onto your arms. “You think?”

He chuckles. “If you ask nicely, maybe I’ll type the rest for you.”

You turn just enough to glare at him over your shoulder. “With what energy?”

He grins, all smug and sweet and way too pleased with himself. “Fair point.”

[keeryhours]

Customer: @losingmygrasponreality

Order: Chocolate lava cake for two with whipped cream and sprinkles

Ingredients: Smut (18+), first time, virgin!eddie, friends to lovers, porn with no plot, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie

Total: $32.03 (3.2k words)

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“You sure you want to do this?”

Eddie’s chest was heaving, like he couldn’t calm his breaths. His brown eyes were half lidded, pupils blown. A cigarette dangled from his pointer and middle fingers as he leaned back against his headboard, the smoke trailing up and up into his bedroom. Music played from his stereo, background noise.

Eddie, shirtless with his tight jeans low on his hips. You, already stripped down to your lingerie, sitting on your knees between his legs. Looking up at him, taking in the view.

“Yeah,” he said, voice gruff.

The corner of your lips quirked up in a small smirk.

Your best friend had asked you to take his virginity, and who were you to say no? Especially when he looked this good.

“Are you hard?” you asked him, your voice a mere whisper.

“So fucking hard,” he whispered back. He took another drag from his cigarette and his right hand slid down his body, so slowly, until he was rubbing over the straining bulge in his jeans. His eyes never left you once.

You licked your lips. God, you wanted a taste of him. You were so wet already, panties clinging uncomfortably to you. You just wanted Eddie to take them off already. Nipples hard in the confines of your bra, clit throbbing with how badly you wanted him.

“Y’want something?” he asked you pointedly, voice still so low, the smoke pouring from his lips.

You nodded, biting your bottom lip. “Mmhmm.”

“Well, you gotta tell me, baby,” he drawled. “You gotta tell me what you want.”

Your hands danced up his thighs, sending chills through his body even though the thick material of his jeans. “Wanna see your cock.”

Eddie grunted as your hands reached his lap. Your palm lightly rubbed over his bulge - he really was rock fucking hard - and he let out a low groan, more smoke coming from his mouth.

“Go ‘head then,” he mumbled. He ashed the cigarette in the ashtray on his bedside table, long finger tapping against the filter. Then he was bringing it back to his lips, his eyes moving back to you.

You rubbed your hand over him one more time before your hands moved up to the metal handcuffs on his belt. You fumbled with it at first - why does he have to wear this stupid thing - but finally worked it open. The button and zipper were much easier, but pulling the tight jeans down his legs with his cock this hard was its own struggle.

Eddie lifted his hips off the bed, helping you get them down. The denim tossed onto the floor with a clang from his belt and chain, you turned your attention to the tent in his boxers.

You leaned forward, Eddie’s breathing becoming more shallow the closer you got to where he wanted you. You saw another cloud of smoke pass by just as you nuzzled your face against his clothed cock - his hardness contrasting against the soft skin of your cheek. Eddie let out a little gasp that turned into the softest moan. His cock twitched against your face as you rubbed against it. You stuck your tongue out, licking over his head through the material, already wet from his precum.

His hips jerked up unintentionally. “Fuckin’ tease,” he mumbled, cigarette sitting between his lips.

You hummed, mouthing at his cock through his boxers. He was big, that was obvious. How had he been hiding all this from you for so long?

Eddie’s head tipped back against the wall as he groaned - you weren’t sure if it was pleasure, frustration, or both. The muscles in his soft stomach flexed.

“That’s enough,” he muttered, his right hand coming down to lightly pull at your hair.

“You don’t like it?” you asked, all wide eyed innocence although you were anything but.

“Doing this shit on purpose,” he grumbled. “You know what I want.” His thumb caressed the side of your cheek. “I think you want it, too.”

You did. You slid your hands up his thighs until you reached the waistband of his boxers. You didn’t need to ask for permission - the desire was obvious. You slid them down so slowly he gave you a look - you smiled, finally pulling them all the way off.

His cock was pretty. It slapped against his lower belly, the tip ruddy and slick with precum that dribbled onto the skin of his stomach. You took in the vein lining the underside, the way his balls tensed as he watched you looking at this part of him.

“You’re staring.” He tilted his head, looking at you with way too much confidence for a virgin. “Y’like what you see?”

“S’big,” you commented, although you didn’t think he needed the ego boost. He looked like he already knew.

“Can you take it?” he asked quietly, bravado mixed with genuine concern. He ashed his cigarette again, distracted as he never took his eyes off you, some of the white ash spilling onto his table.

You wrapped a hand around his thick shaft, drawing a gasp from him at the first real contact. “I can take it,” you promised him.

He watched you closely as you stroked his cock slowly up and down, spreading the precum along his shaft. He was throbbing in your hand, pure need coursing through his veins. He let out a shaky breath before bringing the cigarette back for another drag.

“Are you gonna-“ he asked from around it, but cut himself off with a moan that pushed its way out of his lungs the second you wrapped those pretty lips around his tip. “Shit!” he cursed, nearly dropping his cigarette.

You nearly laughed, if your mouth hadn’t been busy. He was warm and heavy on your tongue, the salt of his skin mixed with the precum dripping from his slit. You worked your mouth down, opening your jaw wide to take his thick girth without scraping him with your teeth. When your nose touched the course curls at his base, he was so deep down your throat, the most pathetic whimpers coming from the man above you.

“Oh, that’s…” he drew in a quick breath. “Oh.”

You could hear him dragging on the cigarette again as you started bobbing your head along his length. You looked up at Eddie, eyes locked on you with his expression pained as the cigarette burned between his lips. He watched your reddened lips wrapped around him, slick with saliva that dripped down his shaft.

His breathing was ragged, quick. He wasn’t sure what to do with his free hand, so it was balled tightly in the sheets, white knuckled. Your movements were making him light headed, intoxicated. His heart pounded, blood rushing in his ears. You swirled your tongue around his tip and he cried out, head falling back against the wall again. 

“You…” he gasped out, almost like he was accusing you of something. “Oh, fuck.”

You pulled him from your mouth, licking long, languid strokes from base to tip. You cupped his balls in your hand, feeling them tense at the contact before relaxing again. He watched you carefully as you placed soft kisses down his length until you reached his balls, sticking your tongue out and licking at them.

“Oh, oh-“ Eddie gasped, his body jolting, cigarette fumbling from his mouth and landing on the bed. “Shit,” he cursed, quickly grabbing the cig and dropping it in the ashtray, forgotten. A dark burn mark was left behind on his white sheets.

You moved back to his cock, still massaging his balls in your hand. You enveloped him in the warmth of your mouth once again, taking him until you were gagging, tears welling in your eyes and dripping your mascara down your cheeks. Eddie brought his hand to the side of your face, placing his hand against your cheek.

“Fuck,” he let out in a rush of breath. “Fuck yeah, Jesus, just like that. Right there- yeah-“

You hummed, swallowing around him, and he bucked up hard, cockhead hitting the back of your throat, making you choke on it.

“Jesus!” he cried, voice strained. “You gotta- baby, you gotta stop if we’re gonna keep going, I’m-“

You pulled off of him quickly, squeezing the base of his cock in your hand, just barely staving off his orgasm. He let out the most choked, pained moan, cock throbbing hard in your hand, tip red. He had been close, so close.

“Christ,” he breathed. His thighs were shaking, whole body flushed. “Come up here.”

You slowly climbed up his body, taking your time. You straddled his waist and carded your hand through his hair, pushing it back from his sweaty face. He looked up at you like he was seeing God.

“Can I…?” he asked, hands roaming over your body down to your ass over your silk panties. He licked his lips, eyeing between your legs.

“This is supposed to be about you,” you reminded him. You kissed across his cheek, to his ear, biting lightly on his earlobe. “Let me make you feel good.”

“But…” Eddie’s hands rubbed over the roundness of your ass, the plush of your thighs. “I wanna eat your pussy.” He looked up at you with those doe eyes that probably got him most things he wanted.

“Next time,” you promised him. His neglected cock twitched against his stomach at the thought of that - next time.

His hands slid up your back, slowly feeling the smooth skin beneath his calloused hands. He reached your bra, fumbling with the clasp as he placed kisses all over your chest. You let him try for a while - you were just about to ask if he wanted help when it came undone and the bra fell from you, exposing your bare tits.

“Oh my god,” Eddie groaned. “You’re- you have the perfect tits.”

You giggled, but it turned to a moan when he stuck his tongue out and licked your nipple, then wrapped his lips around the bud. He flicked it with his tongue as he sucked, his hand massaging the other breast, thumb rubbing against the nipple.

“Eddie,” you moaned quietly. “Feels good.”

He abruptly flipped you over, surprising you, a little squeal coming from your lips. He pinned your wrists to the bed, kissing down to your neck. “Wanna fuck you now,” he mumbled.

“Yeah?” your eyes fell closed, breathing hard as Eddie sucked the skin of your neck, his teeth biting down just hard enough.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for years,” Eddie muttered. “And I’ve never been so fucking hard in my life.”

You could feel the proof of it pressed against your clothed core. Your cunt was clenching around nothing, just the thought of Eddie inside of you enough to drive you crazy.

He kissed down your body, trying to take his time but too eager to go slow. He kissed down your stomach, dipping his tongue into your bellybutton as he went. You gasped - you’d never had a guy do that before.

He hooked his fingers into the waist of your panties and looked up at you. You nodded once, and Eddie turned his attention back to the main event as he pulled the clothing down your body.

When they were discarded onto the floor, he slowly ran his hands up your legs, from your ankles to your knees. He spread them wide, his lips parting in awe as he looked down at your pussy - finally, finally.

He traced a finger through your folds, looking at the obscene amount of wetness coating his finger. In a moment of impulse he popped it into his mouth, closing his eyes and groaning as he sucked it clean. “I knew you’d be sweet.”

Eddie may have been a virgin, but everything he was doing was turning you on more than any other guy ever had. You weren’t even sure he was trying.

He leaned over you again, the warm weight of him covering your naked body, slotting his knee between your thighs. He kissed you then, slow and passionate and conveying every ounce of desire. You licked the seam of his lips and he opened with a moan. He was a little sloppy, totally inexperienced, but when you started massaging his tongue with yours, he melted right into it and let instinct carry him.

His cock was prodding at you, just as eager as Eddie was. He reached down and grabbed his aching cock, tracing it through your folds. He placed another single kiss to your lips, then sat up on his knees. He looked between your legs as he lined himself up, tip pressing right against your hole.

He drew in a deep breath. This was really happening.

“You ready?” he asked you softly. He gripped your thigh with his free hand, rubbing your skin with his thumb. He was looking at you tenderly - your best friend.

“I’m ready,” you nodded. You were a little nervous - you’d never been with a guy as big as Eddie, and what if this changed things? - but you wanted this.

Eddie nodded once back at you. He looked back down between your legs, then he was pushing in.

“Oh,” he breathed, that first push into your tight heat nearly taking his breath away. You inhaled sharply as he sunk in, slowly, carefully. When he was seated in you, he let out a long groan.

“It’s- you’re tight,” he rasped, hands trembling where they held your thighs. “So tight. And wet.”

“You can move,” you told him, slowly rolling your hips into him - which made his eyes go wide and a strangled moan crawl its way out of his throat.

But he pulled his hips back, pulling out of you until only his tip remained, then rolled back into you. He did that a few more times until his thrusts turned a little more shallow and he found his rhythm.

“Fuck, I’m- I’m in you,” he gasped out. “I’m fucking you. Christ.”

“Yeah, baby,” you purred. He was so cute. “You’re fucking me really good.”

He leaned over your body again, resting on his arm on the side of you while his left hiked your thigh up around his waist. “I am?”

“Yes,” you moaned, his cock so deep inside of you you could hardly breathe. You could feel him all over, your skin prickling with the electricity between you.

“Do you like it?” Eddie panted, hips snapping into yours, his balls slapping against your ass. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes, yes,” you gasped, fingers tightening in his sheets. “Oh god, yes.”

Eddie pressed your foreheads together, looking deep into your eyes as your hips rocked together. Your lips were a breath apart, just swallowing each other’s moans.

“I love seeing you like this,” Eddie murmured. His eyes were so dark, pleasure written across his face. “Never thought I would.”

“Me either,” you huffed a laugh, and Eddie returned your smile. Yeah, you definitely never thought you’d get to see what your best friend looks like when he’s inside of you.

“Can I-“ he stopped, eyes darting down to your tits before looking back at your face. “Fuck. Can I…can I fuck you from behind?”

His question surprised you - but you wanted it, too. “Yeah, we can do that.”

Eddie let go of your thigh, pulling out of you slowly. It was a loss, his thick length pulling out of you. But then he flipped you over into your stomach and you arched your back, sticking your ass up for him.

“Holy shit,” Eddie said in a mixture of a moan and gasp, his shaking hands coming down to caress over your cheeks. “Your ass, Jesus Christ-“

You turned to look over your shoulder in time to see - and feel - Eddie sinking back into you. “Oh, shit, yeah,” he breathed. When he was fully in you again he held himself there for a second, just feeling you wrapped around him.

“Please,” you begged. “Fuck me, Eddie.”

His hips involuntarily jerked at your words - “Shit,” he hissed out - but he turned his uneven movements into another quick rhythm, pulling your hips back against him for the extra momentum.

He splayed his hand across your lower back as he fucked you, admiring the look of your body, the jiggle of your ass, the bounce of your tits. Every rut of his hips sent you sliding against the mattress, your mouth open, drool pooling on the sheets as he fucked you stupid.

How was he so good at this his first time?

Eddie’s hands were locked on your hips as he lost himself in the pleasure of your body. You were a whining, moaning mess as you babbled beneath him. “Yes, Eddie, please please please, more, don’t stop, I can’t, I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum, Eddie, please-“

“I’m gonna make you cum?” he asked, breathless and amazed. “Fuck, yeah, baby. Cum on my cock, wanna feel it. Wanna feel you cum on me.”

He dug his fingertips into the skin of your ass, leaving marks behind. He scrunched his eyes closed, trying to hold on, just a little longer until you could finish. But he was so close, his denied orgasm from earlier building back up with a vengeance.

You reached underneath you and rubbed at your clit. It only took a second of the extra stimulation before you were pitching forward, crying out with a loud moan as your cunt clenched and throbbed around Eddie’s cock, soaking him.

“Shit!” Eddie cursed, losing his rhythm, just holding onto you and slamming into you with frantic desire. He could feel you pulsing around his cock, and it was too much, too much-

Eddie gasped out a yell of a moan as it all shattered - shockwaves pouring through his body like he’d never experienced, his hips jerking against you as he came ropes of his spend inside of you. You could feel the warmth of him filling you, his sweaty body practically laying over yours, heavy breaths and moans of your name against your back.

He didn’t want to move, but he didn’t want to crush you, either. He pulled out of you, some of his cum dripping from your pussy and down your skin. He stared.

You flattened, laying down on the bed. Your body felt used, aching, sore, but still tingling from the best orgasm you’d ever had. You heard Eddie leave before he came back and started wiping your skin with warm washcloth.

“Is that better?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah.” You turned over, smiling up at him. You’d never had someone take care of you after sex before. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He was quiet now, seeming a little shy for once in his life. “Did you…like it?”

“I loved it,” you promised him - and you had. “Did you?”

Eddie’s eyes widened at that. “Are you kidding? That was fucking incredible.” He crawled over you, kissing you again, his lips just barely brushing yours until they pressed firmer. When he pulled away, he nuzzled his forehead against your neck.

“So…when’s that next time?” he asked, eager smile on his lips.

Right now, if you had any say in it.

as always, comments & reblogs are so appreciated!!

tag list

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[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Softer, Softest ♡

♡ Pairing: mafia!boss!san x stripper!chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: smut/angst/fluff

♡ Summary: A fun night of stripping takes a turn when an encounter with a particularly unpleasant customer leaves you in tears, running to your boss seeking comfort and protection. Both things he’s more than willing to give.

♡ Word Count: 3.6k-ish

♡ Warnings: explores themes of body insecurities, reader has her arm grabbed (nothing violent but brutal violence against the person who grabbed it), mentions of blood/injuries (not yours, babes), kissing, heavy body worship, san’s obsessed with you, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), clit sucking, nipple pinching, a lil manhandling, hair pulling, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, low key mirror sex, pet names (baby, pretty).

♡ A/N: Hello my loves, I wrote this little fic for any of my chubby darlings out there who might not know or might need reminding that their bodies are gorgeous, worth loving, and desirable. I also really love myself a hot criminal and who better than San? K, let me shut up now. Just know I love you. Your body’s amazing. Never forget that ❤️

Midnight. Friday. The back alley of a strip club. The best in town. The strip club, not the alley. It’s a dark, starless night. The smell of fresh rain hangs in the air, the aftermath of a sudden downpour that left the ground slick with rain. Music from inside the club bleeds through the cracks of a heavy steel door. A neon red EXIT sign hangs overhead. The door creaks on its hinges as it swings open, sending the music blaring out into the night and with it comes a body. The blur of one at first, flying through the air, and then the weight of it. The heavy thud of bruised flesh and cracked bone colliding with the asphalt. 

The man on the ground is unremarkable, nothing about him worth noting except the mangled nose that gushes blood down his face, leaking into the cavernous gash that is his busted lip. He said the wrong thing to the wrong person and now he can’t speak at all, only mumble. A brushed leather Dolce and Gabbana shoe collides with his cheek. His blood splashes scarlet against the pitch black soles, a horrible crack emitting from his jaw as more pressure’s applied. Now this man? He’s remarkable. He’s muscular, defined in every way so that, even through his black dress shirt, you can read the broadness of his shoulders. His features are sharp and intense. The kind you either fall for or fall victim to. There’s no in between. He’s a handsome devil but a devil all the same. 

“You look like shit” San sighs, effortlessly kicking the man onto his back. He rolls his sleeves up, kneeling beside the man like a hunter inspecting its fallen prey. He stares down at him, emotionless, void of anything close to that thing we call remorse.  

The man heaves in a breath of air before coughing it back out. “Mmm s-s-sorry” he croaks, “I didn’t know she was anyone fucking special.” 

San grips the man’s face, grinning in a way that isn’t the least bit friendly. He squeezes tightly, forcing jagged teeth to press into the soft flesh of the man’s cheeks. “Well now you do.”

This is your boss and you, tucked away safe and warm in his office, are something special. But a part of you knew this already. You downplay it when the other girls point it out. You pretend not to notice the clear signs of favoritism but they’re there in even the smallest interaction between the two of you. Since day one San’s been your protector, your admirer. You’ve denied it a million times, convincing yourself you’re simply making more of things than what’s there. Still, after everything happened you couldn’t fathom running into the arms of anyone else. 

You were dancing like any other night—working your section and getting your tips—when some asshole grabbed you by the arm, demanding your presence in one of the private rooms. Usually you could count on security to drag him out but on weekends the club gets packed and things slip through the cracks. Sadly tonight you were one of them so, like a proper lady, you told him to kiss your ass and sent the tip of your stiletto crashing into his balls. You might be a stripper but that doesn’t mean you’re some thing that men can treat however they wish. It’s a lesson he had to learn the hard way and you were happy to teach it to him. Two shots past drunk and embarrassed by your rejection he snapped, spewing the most vile things you’ve ever heard about yourself—about your body. 

It isn’t news to you that you’re one of the bigger girls here. San says that’s what makes you special, why customers come in to blow a check on you and you alone. He’s right, your bank account says so. The customers love you, they eat up every inch of your plush body. By all means you should feel like the baddest bitch in this building, simply because you are, but in that moment his words had reduced you to nothing. A few seconds ago you were twirling around the pole like a goddess now you found yourself scurrying back to the dressing room with tears in your eyes. 

At least that’s where you intended to go. Somewhere along the way you changed course, riding the velvet lined elevator to the third floor where San’s office sits at the end of a long hallway. At the time you hadn’t considered how much this might escalate the situation because, quite honestly, you didn’t care. More than feeling hurt, you were pissed the fuck off. Your tears were of anger and, whether you felt it at the time or not, you wanted that motherfucker to pay for it. 

This place you work at. There’s more to it than what’s on the surface. It’s easy to get so distracted by the luxury and the lights and the pretty girls dancing that you miss the truth of it all. In fact, that’s the point, but you know a mafia front when you see one. You aren’t oblivious. You know what this is, who San is, and maybe that’s exactly why you were tapping at his door. A damsel in distress in black lace lingerie.

San’s heart dropped when he saw his favorite girl in tears. He stopped everything, sending his men away so he could place all of his focus on you. Resting his jacket over your shoulders, he gently cradled your cheeks, brushing the tears away to ask quite simply, “Who did it?” 

You explained everything, how that asshole grabbed you and the things he said, and San’s anger grew quietly, simmering beneath a surface of calm. He took a seat at his desk, setting you down comfortably in his lap, and pulled up the security cameras. “Tell me when you see him, okay, baby?” he instructed sweetly, his palm massaging the smoothness of your thigh.

You nodded, struggling to focus on the screen with his hand on your thigh and him calling you “baby”. San touching you wasn’t a rare occasion but it was always something light. A hand on the small of your back or fingertips grazing your arm. Never this purposeful—this intimate. You couldn’t help imagining how it might feel if he gripped a little harder, moved a little higher. You felt your heart begin to race, your temperature rising the longer you sat there in his lap.

“That’s him” you sniffled, spotting that familiar face on the screen. San studied the screen a moment before turning back to you. “I’ll take care of it” he promised, his hand riding your thigh and coming to rest at the gentle curve of your hip. “And no more crying, baby. You’re too pretty to cry.” Too pretty to cry? Oh, but you were crying, absolutely weeping, only between your thighs this time. 

San disappeared from the office, leaving you too lost in the lingering haze of his touch to even think about your insecurities, but that only lasted so long. Alone in the quiet of his office, the self doubt began to creep back in. You tried to distract yourself by exploring your surroundings—the impressive collection of vintage whiskey, the gorgeously framed art hanging from the walls—but nothing could distract you from how uncomfortable you’d become in your own skin. It didn’t help that the office was lined with mirrors, reflecting glimpses of your figure with every turn.

At last out of distractions, you turn to face the mirrored image of yourself, letting San’s jacket slip to the floor. You strike a pose, a half hearted copy of something cute you might do on stage, and watch the way the fat of your body squishes together here or there. You strike another then another then another but they’re there in every pose. Your face, your belly, your sides, your thighs. Your weight shows in all of them. Pinching your lower belly you think of how the other girls have had work done. Maybe if you got some done yourself…

“I left him out back. Clean him up before someone sees” San says, pushing through the door, his phone pressed to his ear. 

You jump a bit at his arrival, scrambling to grab the jacket, but San slips in behind you, closing his arms around your waist before you can retrieve your safety blanket. You tense at first but find yourself settling into his embrace as if it’s the most natural place for you to be. 

“So, what was that?” he asks, resting his chin on your shoulder. His breath tickles your neck as he inhales your perfume and the sweet scent of honey and jasmine fills his lungs. You smell as beautiful as you are, as beautiful as everything about you is. 

“How’d everything go?” you press, quick to change the subject. Noticing a series of tiny red scrapes on the knuckles of his right hand, you carefully take it into yours, assessing the damage. 

San shrugs it off like it’s nothing. It still stings but it’s far from the worst pain he’s ever felt. “I said I’d take care of it. It’s been taken care of.” 

You giggle at the contrast of something so menacing being spoken by someone so regal. “San, you make it sound like you killed him.” 

He leans into your neck, his lips grazing your skin on their way up to your ear. You shiver at the contact and his hold on you tightens, your bodies pressed flush against each other so that you can feel his bulge pressed into the plush of your ass. 

“Killed him? Almost” he whispers, “I answered your question so it’s only fair you answer mine, isn’t it? What were you doing? I came in and you were…” San pinches your belly, his fingertips planting adoration where there was once doubt. 

“I…uh…I was…” you stutter, searching your brain for a believable lie but you can’t find a single one.“There’s this doctor, a few of the girls have gone to him to get some work done, and I was just thinking, I don’t know, maybe...why am I even telling you this? You don’t care and anyway, it’s silly.”

“It is silly” he agrees, notes of that quiet, controlled anger you witnessed earlier resurfacing, “But you’re wrong to say that I don’t care. I care about how you feel about yourself, I care about you. You must know that.”

“I mean, I know you care about me. You care about all of the girls” you say, hesitant to accept this as a profession of anything in particular. 

San spins you around, pinning you between the warmth of his body and the cool mahogany of the desk. “I don’t care for any other woman the way I do you.” 

There it is, a profession of something very particular. He’d hoped that you’d seen it by now. He wonders if he didn’t do a good enough job of showing you. It’s been so long before you, years even, that he had feelings like this for anyone. The world he operates in doesn’t allow for soft spots. Soft spots are how you make mistakes and when mistakes are life or death you can’t afford to make them but he couldn’t help himself with you. You caught his eye the day you walked in for your audition and you’re all he’s been able to see since. You’re so delicate, so beautiful, a perfect contrast to the toughness of his life. It’s why he protects you—why he always will. 

“Your body…” he says, his palms racing up and down your curves, “It’s perfect. There’s nothing about it that needs fixing. If you let that doctor touch you I’ll break both of his hands.” San’s gaze is heavy with lust, months of longing just begging to be satisfied. It burns him up inside, sets fire to his very being, and being kissed by the flames of that need is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. 

“Is that the way you romance women? With threats of violence?” you tease, draping your arms across his shoulders.

“Sometimes but usually it’s like this” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours. His tongue parts your lips, twining around yours to deepen the kiss. His movements are careful and deliberate. The kiss intoxicatingly slow. 

San grabs you by the hips, lifting you onto the desk and you let out a little squeak of surprise as he sets you down. “You’re so fucking cute” he grins, spreading your thighs to fit perfectly between them. 

“You think so?” you say so innocently it only makes him want to ravage you more. 

Tangling his fingers in your hair, he tilts your head to look back at the mirror, “Don’t you?” 

An unexpected wetness soaks the lace of your panties at the sight of your shared reflection. Nothing has changed about your body. It’s the same one you were picking apart, the same one you were doubting, and San loves everything about it. He praises it with his hands, with his fingertips, with whispered confessions of everything your body needs to hear. 

”I watch you sometimes when you’re dancing” he says, effortlessly doing away with your bra, “I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help myself when you look the way you do. It’s like you’ve put a spell on me. My little witch.”

San captures one of your breasts, kneading the plump flesh in the palm of his hand. He pinches your bud between his fingers, tugging at it just enough to make your breath catch in your throat. 

“But I don’t have any magic” you whimper, tugging at the buttons of his shirt. They pop open one by one, revealing a body that had to be sculpted by some divine feminine deity. You push the fabric away, your fingertips delighting in the perfection of her creation. 

San’s free hand reaches between you, stroking your clit through your panties. He groans at how soaked you are, your juices leaking through the lace to coat his fingers in your juices. “You do have magic, baby” he whispers, tucking your panties to the side, “It’s right here.”

“Aah, Sannie” you moan, your hands sliding down his abs as his fingers stretch you open. 

Your body falls back, a sharp chill coursing through you as your bare back hits the desk. San sinks his fingers deeper into your core, his cock stiffening at the sight of your body moving as hypnotically as it does on the pole. Only now it’s for him and only him. This is how San likes it, how he’s always wanted it to be. Him with his fingers buried deep into the warmth of your pussy, your walls greedily clenching around them, and you spread out across his desk, your gorgeous body on full display and your lips spilling out moans meant for his ears alone. 

Kneeling between your legs he pulls your panties aside harder this time, nearly tearing the fabric as he knots it in his fist. He brings his thumb to your clit, toying with it just to see how your body twitches with every touch. “How can a girl be this perfect?” he says, nearly salivating, “Even your pussy’s gorgeous.” There’s an audible wet sound, another sweet whimper escaping your throat, as his fingers slip out of your core and his tongue takes its place.

“San, wait…” you beg, grabbing at his hair, but you’re too late. Your attempt at pacing yourself is useless. His tongue’s already filling the space between your walls, wiggling and curling against your sweet spot. His dark hair knots around your fingers, your hips raising to ride every wave his tongue sends washing over you. 

San drags his tongue up through your petal soft folds, swirling it around your clit before diving into you again. He suckles at your clit, gently at first then faster, more ravenous. His gaze flicks up to you, taking in the way your belly jiggles and your breasts bounce. He’s drunk on your juices, already addicted to the way you coat his tongue. You taste like heaven and look like it too. It takes all of the self control he has to pry his mouth free of your pussy, snatching your panties down as he does. 

Standing back up, he grips your thighs, spreading you open to watch the arousal drip from your pussy, leaving pretty little drops on his desk. Your eyes are glued to him as he unzips his pants, letting his cock fall right between your legs. The swollen tip throbs against your lower belly, leaking precum, warm and sticky, on your skin. You rock your hips, clenching around air, craving friction from that deliciously veiny cock of his. 

“You want it, baby?” San teases, tapping the head of his cock against your clit. His length slips between your folds. They’re so smooth, so slick. Toying with your pussy’s like splashing in a lake. You’re wet enough to drown in.

“I want it, Sannie, aah, fuck…” you moan, your eyes widening at the realization that his tip’s pressed to your entrance now, stretching you the faintest bit. 

“Then tell me how perfect your body is. Tell me you love it.” He pushes in an inch more, stopping to leave your hole spread wide around his cock, still needy and deprived. 

The stretch has the room spinning, a single taste of him already making you want more. “My body’s, mmph, beautiful” you manage as he gradually feeds you more of him, “I love it.”

“Don’t stop. Keep telling me. Make me believe you” San demands, thrusting into you so hard that he bottoms out. 

You cry out at the force of the thrust, your lashes fluttering away tears, “I love, aah, my body. I love my body. It’s beautiful. It’s…it’s…”

Tucking his hands behind your knees, San pushes them to your chest, snapping his hips against you hard enough that your thighs jiggle around him. All of you does. Every stroke of his cock makes you tremble and he’s hardly able to keep still himself. You’re so tightly wound around his cock that he can feel all the finer details of your walls. They’re glued to him, sucking him in every time he even thinks about pulling back. 

Through heavy lids you watch the man you’ve only ever known to be a mountain crumble to pieces all because of you. San’s muscles are slick with sweat and a glossy haze dances over his eyes. His fingers are digging into your thighs, completely devouring them. He does what he can to swallow his moans but it’s impossible when you’re making him feel like his entire soul’s being snatched from his body. 

“You feel so fucking good” he grunts, planting breathless kisses up your leg, “Come here.”

San props your ankles up on his shoulders, hooking an arm around you and sitting you up so that you’re close enough to kiss. He grinds against your sweet spot, forcing his tongue down your throat so that every moan you set free echoes between his cheeks. Gripping the back of your neck, he slams into you, harder, faster, forcing your body to give into him. He fucks you until your eyes are rolling back, your mind too blank to recall anything that happened before this moment. There’s no thought of the incident, no thought of your insecurities. High on euphoria, your body feels beautiful, every inch of it. 

“S-San…” you whine, a familiar pressure building behind your belly. Your fingers begin to tingle as they cling to his muscles, searching for any stability they can reach. 

“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” he coos, not letting up on you, not even for a second.

Pulling his arm away he lets you fall back on the desk. With one hand cupping your breast and the other circling your clit, he watches you fall apart in the palms of his hands. For so long he’s had to watch you from afar, pretending that he wasn’t utterly obsessed with you, but now you’re all his. His pretty, moaning, teary eyed girl pouring your cum down his cock while you repeat his name like it’s the only word you know. He’s so singularly focused on watching you hit your high that his own takes him by surprise. 

Grabbing him by the wrist, you lock eyes, a weak smile forming on your lips. “Fill me up, Sannie” you whisper, your voice sexy even in its brokenness.

San’s body shudders and you feel a new fullness inside of you. The warmth pools deep within you at first, cascading down your walls the more he empties himself into you. “Fuck, baby” he pants, catching himself before his body doubles over. He came so hard his ears are ringing and holding onto you is all he can do not to fall. You sit up to stroke his cheek and he kisses your wrist lovingly. You stare into each other’s eyes for a minute that lasts an eternity, letting yourselves get lost in one another’s gaze. 

San breaks the trance with a kiss, holding you like one would the most precious thing they own. “Tell me, baby, how do you feel now?” 

You contemplate his question, your attention drifting back to the reflection in the mirror. It’s all there. Your face, your belly, your sides, your thighs, and San looking at you like you’re the prettiest girl in the world. You turn back to him with a smile, “Beautiful.”

[yamsfrecklvs]

how bout mote aizawa stuff? Im starving!!

you're starving and i'm here to feed you :)

cw: fem reader, bondage (you knew this was coming sooner or later didn't you ... ), use of 'good girl' (AGAIN I'M NOT SORRY), LOTS OF PRAISE, smut obvi pls mdni! also not proofread i’m so fckin lazy

unsurprisingly, aizawa has a big bondage kink. of course he does, and yet, contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t like to use his capture weapon on you, no - that’s for work. and there is no fucking way he wants to take his work into the bedroom too. no, he puts effort into it, buys the perfect rope to tie you up in. when it comes to you, he likes to take his time, and it would be way too easy to have you restrained with with his scarf. plus, he loves to rile you up, to take it slow, to see you get whiny and impatient and beg for it, beg for him. the bastard.

so shouta props you on his bed, face down, ass up, and takes his sweet time as his rough hands swiftly tie your arms behind your back and your legs and ankles together, his fingers working steadily and precisely, tying the knots so easily that you’d think he’s been doing it for his whole life. he’s sure of what he’s doing, and he’s savoring the moment. he’ll occasionally stop to land a sound slap to your ass, or to kiss the back of your thighs, as if the situation alone isn’t enough to get you needy and wet for him. he doesn’t like to hear you protest or be bratty. he just wants you to be good until he’s done, and when he is, you know you’ll get your reward.

“all set, doll.”, he clicks his tongue, a sharp exhale coming from his lips, “y’look so pretty like this.” he breathes out. god forbid you turn your head ever so slightly to look at him, because he will lose even the last, tiniest bit of composure left in him.

but he doesn’t like to leave his pretty girl hanging, so he immediately gets to work.

he starts slow, achingly slow, his hands grabbing a hold of the plush flesh of your thighs as his lips graze the back of them. he leaves a trail of soft, wet open-mouthed kisses all the way up to your cunt, but then he stops - because, as he’s very proud to observe, you’re soaked. he grazes your entrance with his index before he plunges it into you just to feel your walls clenching around it, and oh how he adores the sweet little gasp that escapes your lips, and how it turns into the softest moan when he shoves another finger into you, his digits immediately hitting that sweet spot you like so much. the second you start turning to putty into his hands, he stops.

“sho, don’t tease,” you whine in protest, but he shushes you.

“stay still and behave for me, angel.”

and when you finally do, you do get your reward - he eats you out so well that you’d think he was starving for you, fucking you with his tongue, lapping up your juices so greedily, gently sucking on your clit while he pushes his fingers inside you again, his other hand roaming on your body, squeezing and grabbing and keeping you steady.

shouta loves the fact that, tied up like this, pretty and helpless under his touch, you can do nothing but take what he gives you - after all, he’s a giver, and seeing you moan and whimper and come undone under his touch is what really gets him going the most.

he doesn’t stop until he’s made you cum at least two or three times, because he likes you all weak and sweet when he fucks you, he likes you to give yourself to him completely.

honestly? he just really loves to be in control.

now - shouta is not a man of words. at all.

but when he’s buried deep inside you, his cock stretching you open, your cunt so warm and wet around him? he can’t keep his mouth shut for the life of him, praise spilling from his mouth at each thrust. he’s not soft, no. he’s rough and desperate and impatient, his hands gripping your hips so hard that he knows you’ll bruise, but his words? they’re saccharine.

“atta girl, yeah, take it, just like that.”

“you feel so good, angel, shit- so fuckin’ pretty.”

and when he cums, buried deep inside you, just how he likes it, he plants a soft kiss on your shoulder before he starts untying the ropes that keep you tied up. when he’s done, he kisses your temple and lays down beside you, his hand coming to stroke your hair ever so gently.

“good girl. you did so well for me today.”

—

@yamsfrecklvs - i am so sorry for this lol idk what possessed me!

[alchemistc]

Tommy ignores the knock at his door. He's in day three pajamas and the only person who might make the effort to check in on him is his exes best friend. Which.

The knocking continues.

It's getting louder.

There's a Kings game on in the background and he's been elbow deep in the Jeep manual he'd finally cracked open in some sort of weird, fucked up pattern of mourning.

Tommy's never gonna buy a fucking Jeep. He hates them. You own one for more than five years and more than half the parts are replacement parts.

He's been staring at a diagram of the timing belt for half an hour, at least. The last thing he remembers about the game is Kuemper letting in three goals on five shots and somehow the Kings are up two, now, and there's still 25 minutes of game time left.

Tommy reaches for the remote. Turns the volume up.

The knocking returns less than a minute later.

---

There's a box of odds and ends tucked under the table in his entryway. He avoids looking at it. He knows there are a few things missing from it and he really doesn't want to examine what he'll have to do to avoid giving it to Eddie tonight. He cut the cords, he shouldn't be lingering watching the frayed edges sway in the wind, clutching his line like there's anything braced on the other side of it.

Evan's oldest, softest LAFD hoodie, the one that's technically too small for both of them but has stretched shockingly evenly and is definitely not sitting unwashed at the bottom of Tommy's laundry basket. The program from a recital of Denny's they'd stopped by to support him for, on their way out of town for a long weekend. Evan's stupid keto bread and the milk frother he'd left behind three months ago and never bothered to grab because he had more than one.

Whoever is at his door is still fucking knocking, and suddenly Tommy doesn't feel like being polite. He'll shove the box in Eddie's arms and tell him to fuck off and close the last few remaining open doors he has to this.

Only when he swings the door wide it's not Eddie on the other side, and the box nearly takes out whatever Evan - Buck, Jesus Christ - has in his own arms.

Not a Tommy box - too small for all the shit that he'd left behind. He misses the house slippers that had had a permanent spot tucked under the left side of the bed.

Tommy flinches, reels away, tries to shove the box away before Buck can see its contents.

"What are you doing here?" Even tone. No quiver in his voice. He's been called rude and dismissive for less.

Buck scowls. Hefts the rectangular dish in his hands and shoves past Tommy before Tommy can blink.

It's silly to say he chases after him, down the hallway towards the kitchen, but he's not exactly following along behind at a casual leisurely pace.

The glass pan slams down on his kitchen counter and Buck spends a minute staring at the calendar he was only getting two months out of because he couldn't look at the one with all Buck's notes penned in anymore.

"Wow," Buck says, and shifts his weight awkwardly.

"What are you -?"

"Jee and I made you birthday cupcakes," Buck says. His voice is hard. Angry. Hurt. "Happy birthday, asshole."

---

He cracks the lid and there are only three cupcakes inside. Tommy forgets himself. Raises a brow, amusement rolling over him pleasantly, prepared to tease him, but then he catches the set of Buck's legs and the curl of his mouth and the tight way his arm tucks itself back in against his belly, a protective gesture that reminds Tommy very effectively what this is.

"Why?" Tommy wonders aloud, and Evan's scowl deepens.

Buck's scowl.

God.

"We've been planning it for weeks." Something flashes across his eyes before he schools his features. "Jee made me promise to bring you some."

"She must not be a skilled baker," Tommy jokes. "If these are the only ones that made it."

Evan's expression twists. "I ate most of them."

The frosting looks fresh. No creases in the paper cup holding them together.

"I had to make a new batch of frosting because I used some of it for -." He cuts himself off. Looks like he'd like to throw it in Tommy's face but can't quite force himself to hurt Tommy.

It hurts as much as he'd expected, anyway.

The world is a small place. It's not the first time he's had to speak to an ex when he didn't want to. It's never pleasant.

This is worse. The cut and run is supposed to give him time.

Evan Buckley has been an ache behind his ribcage for months, now, long before he'd made that final decision. He'd known it was too little too late. Buck's gonna be the shadow other men see behind his eyes for years.

Buck's apparently found and slept with someone within the week and a half span from Tommy walking out to his sad shitty mopey birthday.

That he'd forgotten about.

Tommy leans in. Picks up a cupcake. Licks a stripe through the frosting and makes a face when he realizes it's buttercream.

"The ones you were supposed to get had the whipped cream one you like," Buck says, accusingly.

That somehow stings just a little bit extra.

Tommy pulls back the paper, takes a bite. There's raspberry filling inside, and Tommy can feel tears prickling at the edges of his eyes, because when he'd told Evan about how his grandma baked he'd been thinking of Evan being a grandparent, the kind of shit he'd forbidden himself from imagining with anyone he was dating years ago.

"Thank you," he manages, and Buck frowns.

"He thought the whipped cream was too sweet." And Tommy probably deserves this but he's not particularly in the mood.

"Cut it out, Buck."

Buck rolls his jaw. "I just figured you'd wanna know how it's going. Maybe I could tally up the hookups for you, count them all up by gender and stamina and opinions on how I should feel and act and fall for someone. Find out if I'm actually gay enough to be a man's last."

---

The rest of the cupcake kind of collapses and oozes as Tommy smacks it down on the counter. He takes thirty seconds to pull the other two cupcakes out before he's grabbing the too-large fake Pyrex and turning heel. The keto bread goes in the pan. Then the milk frother.

Tommy yanks the recital program off the fridge and tosses it in the trash.

Buck almost looks triumphant.

"The box under the side table has the rest. You can see yourself out."

He actually does exactly as he's told, and Tommy listens to his footsteps drift off, shoulders hunched in and the breath tight in his throat. He'd been cruel, it was only fair Buck got a few final kicks in.

Tommy sucks in a breath and blinks away the moisture at the edges of his vision.

The footsteps take a heel turn at the side table and turn right back around.

"This isn't everything."

Tommy half expects some panned comment about how Tommy's got his heart - the kind of silly shit he'd say to a dead outlaw.

"My sweatshirt," Buck says, and Tommy freezes.

He could lie. He could pretend he had no idea where it was. Claim he didn't remember it even being here, because that particular piece of clothing did have a tendency to travel.

He doesn't fucking want to hand that one over.

Buck smirks, like he's caught the crack, and is looking for ways to exploit it.

"I own my own house!" Tommy says, and it's a terrible launching point but Buck latches on.

"You just left, Tommy! I know I jumped the gun, Tommy, but you didn't even - you just left! I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry I didn't know I was into men until you. I'm sorry you had to be my first, I'm sure that must have been such a burden for you."

"That's not fair."

"You didn't even give me a chance. That was - I'm so angry with you, Tommy. I'm so fucking mad."

"I know."

"But that's what you planned for, right? That's - you ripped the bandaid, Tommy, except there's a whole fucking untreated stab wound right underneath and it's still bleeding, Tommy."

"Did you even make this round of cupcakes with your niece?" It's better to keep his family's names out of his mouth. Just keep those ties cut.

Buck looks livid. "No, you idiot, I whipped up a tiny batch of this recipe just for the excuse to see you and - and tell you what a stupid, awful coward you are."

"That's not f-." He isn't sure whether Buck is being facetious about the small batch thing or not. He doesn't have any time to think about it.

"My sister and Chim are having another baby. Bobby and Athena are probably gonna host Christmas this year. Eddie shaved off the mustache and he's, like, dancing now, I guess. Hen and Karen are good for the first time in -." He shakes his head. Stares at Tommy. Tommy can't quite hide from that gaze. "We were good, Tommy. We were - you loved me."

He'd never said the words. Neither had Evan, but they'd both known. Both felt it. Tommy let it go too far, did it scared for longer than he usually would.

"It's not like that just went away when I walked out, Evan," Tommy hisses, and then regrets it immediately.

Evan has spent most of this visit pushing, pressing, digging fingers into the wound to make it hurt.

Evan goes silent now, reeling back a little. He seems shocked that Tommy had admitted it.

"I want you to go," Tommy says. "I need you to go, Buck."

It was the right dagger the first time, but apparently it's only effective once.

"I love you too, you know." His voice is soft. Tommy can't meet his eye. "And I hate you. I hate you even though I know that's what you wanted but I love you too much to not hate you out of spite."

Tommy knows if he caves it's done. He's signing himself over to whatever fucked thing will end them a week, a month, five years, two decades from now.

"Go home, Buck. Hate me there."

---

He goes in for the kill.

"I called Abby, two nights ago."

Right for the jugular. No survivors.

"She laughed for like twenty minutes, and then she tried to get me to chat about our sex life for comparison, and then she was shocked silent for a full minute when I wouldn't." Because Evan had always been a little too open about those details. "She also told me she forgave you but she doesn't think you ever forgave yourself."

Tommy agrees. For all that they'd been terrible for each other, they'd known how the hell to take care of one another like no one's business.

"I want you to go," Tommy says, steady, quiet, nearly a snark for how deep his voice goes to hide the tremor in it.

Buck cocks a hip against the doorframe. "I want my sweatshirt."

The breath that escapes him is shaky, but her think he hides most of it behind the hand over his face, the finger pinched at the bridge of his nose.

"I can't do this."

"Exactly how many men and women do I have to fuck before you believe the future I'm looking at is with you?"

"All of them! None! It was a stupid thing to say and it's not what I meant and I can't do this."

Buck spins on his heel. Grabs the box he'd set aside and hefts it up into his arms. "I'm coming back for my sweatshirt," he says. "You let me know whether you want to talk about the data points of the sexuality spreadsheet or about us."

"There is no us, Buck." His voice sounds defeated even to himself.

"If that was true you'd just give me the stupid sweater and be done."

Tommy sits in silence. He does not get up to retrieve the hoodie. Buck is still angry, but his smile is wide and bashful.

Tommy listens to his footsteps trail down the hall, towards the door, out of it. He hears the Jeep's ignition catch, the wheels roll off the drive.

He realizes he'd left the goddamn Jeep manual open on the timing belt page, right there on his side table where he'd pointed out the things he wanted Evan to take to clear him from his life.

---

There is someone knocking at his door.

Tommy doesn't quite ignore it.

He hid the sweatshirt in one of his toolbox drawers when Evan texted him this morning to let him know he'd be over with a six pack and a pot of chili.

There's a zero percent chance Evan's getting that sweatshirt back, tonight.

[sungchanarcade]

first time with riize

this was a request i got MONTHS ago and i only just finished it 😭 but i hope u like it anyway! as usual, i ask that minors do not interact with my content

shotaro 

this man is all smiles

i feel like he would randomly get overwhelmed by how adorable he finds you and def likes to kiss your cheeks just to see you laugh

pushes your hair out of your face because he wants to see you and won’t let you try to cover it up

“come on pretty girl, show me how good i make you feel”

asks you what you want and checks in with you a lot, letting you guide him with what you like

i think later in a relationship he’d have no problem being demanding (if it’s ok with you) but for your first time he wants it to be all about you

makes sure you cum first

eunseok

i also think he would be rougher in bed as your relationship progresses, but he would be SO gentle for your first time because he doesn’t want to hurt you in any way

because of this (and cus he’s a tease) he wouldn’t give you his cock the first time

but that doesn’t mean he won’t blow your mind

i just know he’s good with his tongue, he’d have you making a mess under him in no time

his hands.

yeah he’ll have no problem making you cum

he’d fuck your thighs to finish, holding you close to kiss you

not really a moaner but a LOT of little shaky exhales and mumbled swearing

sungchan

yapper

like will not shut the fuck up the entire time, he LOVES to praise you but once he’s started he can’t stop

“feel good princess? wish you could see how pretty you look”

it probably devolves into the filthiest shit though

once he gets his fingers in you? oh it’s over for him

“fuck you’re tight. but you can handle more right? you’re doing so good for me”

also won’t fuck you with his cock the first time

but that’s okay because his hands are huge and boy does he know how to use them

size training is about to become your best friend

wonbin

definitely plans it all out ahead of time, fancy date beforehand, mood lighting, the softest sheets he owns

probably has a sex playlist 

he just wants the moment to be as special as possible

he’d want to take his time with you and truly savor the experience, he won’t rush anything (even if you beg)

but he’d probably get a little carried away once he’s inside you, so you end up getting what you want in the end

whiner

insert that one tweet thats like: what’s the point of having a bf if he doesn’t moan like a girl

seunghan

this romantic motherfucker… i want him🧎‍♀️

also probably includes a cute date before, though he’d be more touchy than usual

but he wouldn’t let his hands wander too far until you’re alone

after that… all bets are off

makes you cum on his fingers first, then he’d hold you while you recover and let you take as long as you need even though he’s been hard since you guys got back

when he fucks you, he prefers keeping his strokes slow and deep

oh and the praises he’d give you…

makes sure you know how much you mean to him

definitely says ‘i love you’ more than once

sohee

sohee on the other hand, likes it a lot faster

but don’t be fooled, he knows how to find a rhythm and stick to it

holds onto your hips to keep you close to him

as a tits guy, when his hands aren’t on your waist, they’re squeezing your boobs, his fingers playing with your nipples

loves having them in his mouth too

he’d leave hickeys on your chest, low enough that you could cover them if you need to, but high enough that they’ll be visible if you’re wearing a lower cut shirt

LOVES seeing the marks he left whenever you wear more revealing tops, but would definitely get hard every time he sees them

anton

he’d be so soft with you :( 

but he’s also still a total tease

tells you he’ll only fuck you if you can prove you can handle it (he’d have that cheeky grin when he says it too)

wants to watch you get yourself off on your fingers, but after two he’d replace them with his own cus he’s impatient

only gives you what you really want when he’s sure you can take him

it would definitely still be a stretch, but he’d talk you through it and kiss all over your face until you adjust 

but i think once he really starts moving he’d get swept up in the feeling pretty fast, it just feels too good but hey, you’re not complaining

needs to kiss you when he cums, he needs that closeness to finally send him over the edge

[wendichester]

heyy if it’s no bother could u maybe do a sam drabble in which u come home with a vertical labret and tell him u cant kiss for 2 months and he gets like pouty sad but is simultaneously like “ur so GORGEOUS” and lowk has cuteness aggression? (i’m getting my vertical labret in 2 days and im pooing skyscrapers)💕💕

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 lip locked,

summary. you decide to get a new piercing and sam doesn't really approve of all the limitations it implies while it heals.

pairing. sam winchester x reader genre. fluff

wordcount. 608

notes / warnings. thank you for requesting sweets. how did it go!!? i just know you look badass ehe 🩷// also side note that tumblr was supposed to publish this yesterday but somehow didn't?? so here it is: a little late, but still soft

The door creaks open just as you’re kicking off your boots, still half-distracted by the tingling pulse in your bottom lip. The cool metal of the vertical labret catches against your teeth when you smile, and—yeah, okay—it hurts a little, but damn if you don’t feel hot.

"Hey, sweetheart," Sam’s voice floats from the couch, casual, warm—then it stops dead. “What… is that?”

You look up.

And Sam Winchester looks like he’s just witnessed a solar eclipse. Eyes wide, jaw slack, body slowly rising from the couch like he’s in a trance. “What. Did you do.”

You smirk, already bracing for it. “I got a piercing.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” he breathes, crossing the room in four long-legged strides. “Your lip. Oh my God, you—”

He stops inches away from you. Stares. Blinks.

"You're so hot," he says, a little dazed. "Like. Illegally hot. I think this might be a crime."

You laugh, wince slightly—yep, tugged the wrong way. Sam catches it.

“Wait, wait, are you okay? Does it hurt? Should you even be laughing?” His hands hover around your face like he wants to touch but knows better.

You snort. “I’m fine, Sam. It’s healing. I just—can’t kiss for, like… two months.”

Silence.

His face drops like a kicked puppy. “Two months?”

You nod.

He lets out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a whimper. “Two— But that’s—”

“I told you I was gonna get it,” you remind him gently. “You said it was sexy.”

“I didn’t know it was gonna come with a kissing ban,” he argues, arms flopping dramatically to his sides. “That’s like—what is this, celibacy bootcamp?!” He’s full-body pouting now. You swear you can see the heartbreak forming in real time.

And then, just as fast, his whole face twists.

“Oh my God you’re so fucking cute,” he growls—yes, growls—and buries his face in your neck. “I can’t take it. I can’t deal with you right now.”

You giggle, breath hitching as his arms snake around your waist, caging you to him like you might float off and get another piercing if he lets go.

“Sam—!”

“I should be mad,” he mumbles into your skin, “but you’re just—you're so—God, you’re gorgeous, and soft, and you smell like that lavender crap I like, and now you’ve got this badass lip thing and I can’t even kiss you and it’s making me insane.”

You snort. “You’re the one getting aggressive.”

“I’m not,” he lies, and then proceeds to rub his scruffy jaw all over your collarbone like a golden retriever claiming his favorite person. “This is your fault. You did this.”

“You wanna kiss it so bad,” you tease, swaying with him now as he swaddles you in his big whiny limbs.

“I wanna nibble it,” he confesses in a wounded little voice. “Gently. Respectfully. Sensually.”

You’re full-on wheezing now.

He tightens his hold and presses the softest kiss to your forehead—the most tragically platonic option available—and sighs like a man who’s just been handed a life sentence.

“Alright,” he says dramatically. “If I can’t have your lips, I’m going feral. I’m going full cuddle monster. You brought this on yourself.”

You don’t fight it. You let him drag you to the couch, where he flops over you like a human weighted blanket and kisses everything but your mouth—cheeks, nose, your ear, the top of your head.

Two months.

You’re not sure he’s gonna survive it.

But judging by the way he curls around you like a possessive furnace and mutters sleepy nonsense into your hair—stuff like “you’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, it’s criminal, I’m calling the cops”—you’re pretty sure he’s gonna try.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[letdevabe]

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆Ashes and wildflowers ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Pairing: Daryl dixon x reader

Summary: You’re a lone survivor — ex-nurse, guarded and self-sufficient — who reluctantly agrees to stay in Alexandria after a run-in with Rick’s group. You keep your distance, especially from the crossbow-wielding tracker who seems to orbit your presence without ever stepping too close. Then a supply run with Daryl change everything

Setting: Alexandria Safe-Zone, post-epidemic timeline (S6–S7 vibe)

Tw: Injury, fever, emotional vulnerability

୨ৎ-୨ৎ-୨ৎ-୨ৎ-୨ৎ-୨ৎ-୨ৎ-୨ৎ-୨ৎ-୨ৎ-୨ৎ-୨ৎ-୨ৎ-୨ৎ-୨ৎ

You never meant to stay.

You told them as much when Rick found you on the road — clothes torn, a stitched wound on your ribs, eyes hollow. He offered a place in Alexandria. You said no. Then you saw the place. Kids everywhere, who looks joyful, it really looked like the old world. And something in your chest pulled tight.

“I’ll stay a few days,” you’d muttered.

That was two months ago.

⸻

You don’t talk much. You never needed to.

But you watch.

You see Carol carrying too much weight in her silence. You see Rick’s eyes never stop scanning, even when he’s holding his daughter. And you see Daryl always on the edge, always ready to bolt, but he never does.

Especially not when you’re near.

He doesn’t speak to you, not at first. He just starts appearing near wherever you go. Fixing something when you’re in the garden. Sharpening his bolts when you’re hanging laundry. Dropping little things by your door: a clean cloth, dried berries, a book missing its cover.

You never ask why.

But the first time you clean a cut on his hand and say nothing, just hand him a bit of jerky in return, he looks at you like he understands you in a way no one else ever has.

⸻

Then comes the supply run.

It’s just supposed to be a two-person job. You and Daryl. Quick in and out — a medical outpost near the old high school.

Things go wrong.

You’re crossing a broken floorboard when the wood gives out and something jagged drives straight into your thigh. You scream — more out of shock than pain. But Daryl’s there in seconds.

“Shit, hold still.”

Blood everywhere. Your hands shaking. The wood still inside you.

“Don’t—pull it—yet,” you gasp, already dizzy. “Could be arterial—”

He surprises you by listening. He doesn’t panic. Just lifts you gently, careful not to jostle the leg.

“I got you,” he murmurs, jaw tight.

⸻

The ride back is a blur.

You drift in and out — fever coming on fast. The wound gets worse. Infected. The wood must’ve been dirty. You barely remember when Carol starts taking care of you, or when Rick checks in and says something like, “She’s strong. She’ll pull through.”

But mostly… you remember him.

You wake in flashes.

Once, to the sound of Daryl whispering something — soft and raw — to Judith, who toddles in and curls up near your bed.

Another time, to the feeling of his rough fingers brushing your forehead, checking your fever.

And again, to his voice: “You ain’t dyin’. Not like this. You hear me?”

⸻

Your fever lasts a full week.

Seven days of nothing but dreams and ghost-voices and heat.

When you finally wake fully, it’s night. The room is dim. Quiet. You try to sit up — groan in pain.

“Don’t.”

His voice. Always rough. Always softest when it’s for you.

Daryl’s there in the chair, elbows on his knees, looking like he hasn’t slept in days.

“You stayed?” you rasp.

He meets your gaze, and for once, doesn’t look away.

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Your chest tightens. Not from pain this time.

⸻

Over the next few days, Carol helps you change the bandages. Judith brings you little flowers — most are weeds, but you keep every single one in a jar by the window.

Rick stops by too. “You’ve got people now,” he says with a quiet smile. “Even if you don’t know what to do with that yet.”

You look toward the porch, where Daryl leans against the rail, eyes scanning the treeline.

“I’m figuring it out,” you whisper.

⸻

It’s not until your strength starts returning that you ask him.

“Why’d you stay? All that time?”

Daryl shrugs. “Couldn’t leave you.”

You watch him. He fidgets with the strap of his crossbow. Won’t look at you. But there’s something tender in his voice, buried under years of scars.

“You didn’t owe me anything,” you say.

“I know.”

A long pause.

“But I wanted to.”

⸻

That night, when you walk out to join him on the porch, he glances over — surprised — as you sit beside him and lean your head on his shoulder.

He doesn’t speak.

But his hand slowly finds yours in the dark, rough fingers wrapping around your palm like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And just like that, you start to believe maybe wildflowers really can grow in the ashes.

Tags:

[seilahdiaries]

𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞. 𓍯𓂃

IN WHICH the greasers mess up and regret it .

warnings swearing, tiny angst, fluff, the boys are down bad😭 𝓯! reader x the outsiders .

𓍼 i think i could eat avocado toast for the rest of my life and be okay. also i don’t get why ppl don’t like the self tanner smell or maybe it’s the fact my tanner smells like coconut idek.

now playing . . . baby come back - player

𝗗𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗔𝗦 𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗡

you hadn’t even meant it that seriously when you said it—just a teasing little murmur.

“you’re never sweet to me y’know that?”

but of course—dallas being dallas— got verryyy defensive and he flinched.

he shrugged you off like a bad itch, your spot tucked under his arm and resting your head on his chest forgotten. he lit a cigarette and said something like, “you want sweet, go date a lil’ bitch.”

the warmth in the smokey room vanished. next thing you knew you tugged your little ballet flats on, almost kissed his cheek out of habit but just walked out. slamming the door just a little bit for dramatic effect.

he lasted two nights btw.🙏🏻

two whole nights of no contact before he was pacing his room like a gooner on no nut november. muttering under his breath like “i ain’t callin’ her. hell no. she’s the one who walked out.”

then five seconds later he’s in bathroom mirror like “be fr, dallas. what if she thinks you don’t care. what if she actually already got a new bitch?!”

he DEFINITELY stalks your house like a creep. he’ll “stroll” pass your house atleast five times a day hoping he’ll catch a glimpse of you, nonchalantly ofc.

when he finally sees you again, after two days of stalking, he doesn’t really say anything. just flicks the cigarette away and stares at you like he wasn’t just tweaking out last night.

“you done bein’ mad?” he asks, voice rough, arms crossed. but his eyes gave him away, the way he looks at your hands, your lips, your wrists— like it’s been years and he almost forgot how you looked. dramaticcc

“cause i cant do that again. the.. not talking shit. alright?” he doesn’t apologize, not exactly. but he looks at you like he wants to. like the words are caught somewhere between his throat and pride.

and when you don’t answer— just take one step closer— he doesn’t stop you.

he lets you fix the collar of his jacket, tuck the strand of hair behind his ear without flinching, lets you look at him. really look.

so maybe dallas winston isn’t sweet.. but he lets you touch the softest parts of him. sometimes! ☺️

𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗦

you guys don’t usually fight, you two are really mature. but on the rare occasions you do. it hurts so bad☹️

you got up early today, cut the crust off his sandwich because you knew as much as he refused he liked it, you knew better. you ironed his coat with care and even laid everything out for him.

you just wanted to lighten the weight on his shoulders, give him a peaceful morning where he wasn’t racing time.

oh were you wrong!

“why does it smell like pickles?” “you know i can’t stand that.”

then a second later— his voice sharp, short—

“did you use steam on my coat? it’s wrinkled as hell.” “christ— cant you do anything right?”

your heart immediately hurt, a quiet ache. and you didn’t say a word. you folded the sandwich in wax paper, into the brown bag and handed him his coat.

“sorry,” is all you say, “just go.”

and he does.

but who tf? 🤨you leave too. you didn’t answer his calls for about six days, and somehow managed to avoid seeing him too.

“i was wrong.” he spoke on your front porch suddenly, “i was..i took it out on you. and you didn’t deserve that.”

I KNOW THATS RIGHTTTTTT

darry had spiraled. he reorganized the kitchen cabinets. snapped at soda. started lifting at midnight. told himself you’d come back— trying to get his mind off you.

but on day seven, he showed up on your porch. hands shaking with flowers from the store, pink peonies.

𝗦𝗢𝗗𝗔𝗣𝗢𝗣 𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗦

he would forget your guys date i’m sorry😭. but ofc not on purpose!!

your ballet pumps dug into the sidewalk, the small cardigan you wore barely clung shut in the cold— because you thought he’d come and warm you up. like always.

but he didn’t. he stood you up.

you stood there till your curls fell and your perfume started to fade. then you walked home in silence. you were so hurt.

you didn’t answer his calls, didn’t open the door when he came knocking. so he opened the window 🤗 like a literal criminal breaking in.

“i’m so stupid,” he blurted, standing outside with slightly flattened tulips he’d rip out of his neighbors front yard. “like actually. i swear i was just talking to steve and then it was dark out and i remembered and i—”

bro didn’t even last a day😭. at most a couple hours before he was crashing out realizing he messed up and IMMEDIATELY ran to your place after calling.

he cut himself off. you looked into his eyes and they were so glossy. “you got all dressed up for me,” he whispered staring at your makeup. “i’m so sorry.”

then he held out the flowers, palms trembling and sweaty.

“can you atleast be mad at me with the tulips in your hand? please? they’re stolen and..crushed. but they’re for you.”

FORGIVE THE POOR MAN PLEASE.😔🙏🏻

𝗣𝗢𝗡𝗬𝗕𝗢𝗬 𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗦

you told him you finished the book he recommended you, unfortunately it wasn’t your taste. you said it was okay—just not your style.

but ofc you caught him on a bad day, ever since you guys left the school grounds he’d been moody. deriods.😒

he scoffed, “yeah well people like you never really get it anways.”

EXCUSE MEE??!?! he still walked you home, but it was quiet— and awkward.

you kicked a stone down the sidewalk while your chest burned. and when you got to your porch— no kiss, no goodbye. just a mumble under his breath and the soft crunch of his sneakers walking away.

you didn’t call. he didn’t either.

but he went crazy in that quiet, weird way.

would stay for at least 10 minutes just scrubbing at his hands, darry would have to PEEL him away from the sink. would also sit upside down on the couch and recite quotes from that same book. he spilt chocolate milk on his essay. and still turned it in.

then, steve caught him infront of the bathroom mirror, hollering apologies but throwing hands. hello?? 😭

“i shouldn’t have said that,” right hook. “i really—truly didn’t mean it.” jab to the jaw.

steve lost it.

“man are you apologizing or knocking her out??”

ponys face was red. he left mid-apology-roundhouse

but the next day, fallen out your locker— was a little folded note.

“i rewrote this three times. i’m sorry, i said something stupid and mean. and its not true at all.”

𝗝𝗢𝗛𝗡𝗡𝗬 𝗖𝗔𝗗𝗘

you called. once. twice. five times. you even left voicemails after each one. but maybe the last one came off a bit aggressive.

“its fine. really. maybe you’re just too busy ignoring me.”

it was not fine. 😐

you knew his parents weren’t home. his mom was off at her family’s. his dad hadn’t been seen since wednesday. he was home and you were sure of it. but still— nothing.

you went to sleep dramatically, but mostly with your pride hurt cause why did you leave so many voicemails jeez.😓

turns out he wasn’t ignoring you! haha. he’d actually gotten a migraine so bad it made even the light in the room unbearable

johnny curled up with a damp cloth over his forehead, your voicemails playing faintly in his room while he drifted in and out.

and the next early morning, you heard your window click open. you slightly panicked for a second cause whattt before he climbed in with crushed wild flowers he ALSO stole from someone’s yard. cough. soda.

“i didn’t mean to ignore you. swear. i couldn’t look at anything. my head was pounding. but i kept your voicemails on loop. it helped me fall asleep. that last one kind of hurt my feelings though.”

you smiled in spite of yourself.

𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗩𝗘 𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗟𝗘

you were sitting on the curb while he fixed his truck for the millionth time. squinting your eyes from the sun and trying to keep your linen skirt from lifting with the breeze.

you giggled and teased,

“if you spent half as much time on fixing my bike as you do on that greaser hair, i might actually be able to come see you.”

DAMN GIRL.

he laughed— but short.

“yeah well, maybe if you focused on your chain instead of my hair, you wouldn’t be walking it everywhere.”

oh!

you didn’t say much after that—like at all. just walked your bike home when it came time. quiet, wheel clicking out of rhythm.

you didn’t hear from him after that. no calls at all. but two days later, you heard metal clicking in your driveway.

steve.

with his toolbox and a cigarette tucked behind his ear, already halfway through fixing your chain.

“can’t have you riding around on a broken chain. might not like my hair, but at least let me keep you safe.”

you smiled—soft. fixing the cigarette that threaten to fall.

𝗧𝗪𝗢-𝗕𝗜𝗧 𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗪𝗦

he always joked— but this time it wasn’t funny. 😔

you didn’t even remember what he said exactly, just that it hurt. and when your eyes started to gloss, he laughed.

what you didn’t know was that it wasn’t because it was funny— but he didn’t know what else to do. and so you left— face wet and rose-glossed lips pressed shut. and for once in forever, you ignored him.

the next day, you were mid-bite in a chocolate-covered strawberry, legs curled up on the linen couch in your lace pajama shorts. you heard the front door creak.

then two-bit suddenly sat beside you, like he hadn’t made you cry the night before.

“i’m sorry,” he said, holding up a plastic bag from the corner store. “i hate when you’re upset with me. even more when you don’t laugh at me.”

you stared, until he nudged your elbow to take the bag—and you did. “okay, ..now blink twice if you still love me.”

you didn’t blink.

[lonelystczennie]

Dating Chan Headcanons

Chan x Plus Size Reader

Summary: Headcanons for boyfriend Chan w a plus sized partner

Warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive, not proofread

A/N: Guess who remembered this blog after like 6 months!🎉 Thanks to @bethanysnow for supporting and encouraging me to finally write this hc series. These hcs are written with plus sized partners in mind, but most points could apply to anyone regardless of size. Hope you like it, lmk if y’all want part 2(or the nsfw version)!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Dating Chan is incredibly soft. Everything with him is comfort and gentle intensity and the two of you learning to feel safe with each other.

He would definitely be friends first. Even if he fell head over heels the very first time saw you, he would instantly friend-zone himself, bc he worries about how busy he always is and thinks you deserve someone ‘better’ who can give you more time and attention.

He’s also very slow to fully put his trust in people I think. He’s had his trust betrayed and been let down really badly in the past, so it takes him a while to let the walls down enough to let you in.

Once he lets you in tho, he’s fiercely loyal and protective of you. He’s always on the lookout for your best interests and making sure he’s there for you if you need to talk or a shoulder to cry on. Lord help if he catches anyone disrespecting or talking shit about you, he can make them shrivel up with just a look and a few choice words.

He won’t dare hear you talk badly about yourself either, turning any disparaging comments around to show you how absolutely amazing he thinks you are. He takes every opportunity to call you beautiful, even using it like a nickname for you(it’s honestly rarer to hear him call you by your actual name than a petname, lol)

He still flirts and teases you tho, even when you’re still just friends, because there’s no real harm in it right? Not if it makes you smile.

He’s actually a terrible flirt tho, because he will start out trying to be smooth and seductive and making you flustered, but then you both just end up blushing or dissolving into giggles cause y’all can’t keep it together(I think he would legit play the pickup line game with you like he used to on Channie’s room)

He has a habit of making you flustered without even realizing it sometimes. Like the way he gently guides or moves you with a hand on your back, always so careful and respectful. Or how he bites his lip absentmindedly when you’re talking, not realizing just how distracting the small action is(once he does tho, he does it all the time bc he’s menace)

He’s naturally very cuddly and affectionate with people, but once one of you manages to fess up and admit you like each other, he turns into the softest, cuddliest teddy bear you’ve ever met. He’s always hugging or holding onto you, and it’s not even a suggestive thing majority of the time, he just takes a great deal of joy and comfort in feeling you close to him.

Acts of service is also definitely one of his love languages, he loves getting to take care of you, especially in more domestic settings. Like you will come home from a shitty day at work/university to find your laundry done and him in the kitchen cooking you dinner. He loves when you take care of him as well, tho he has a hard time admitting it at first.

Sleeps better with you by his side, and has stolen your sweaters or hoodies on multiple occasions to sleep with when he has to go on tour or be away from you for long stretches of time.

Strong AF and loves to show off for you(anyone else remember those bubble messages where he said he trains to be strong enough to lift Stay?? Like I died??) he loves flexing the fact that he can lift you or move you around with ease.(don’t dare ever say that you’re too heavy for him, because he will take it as a challenge and will do his damnedest to prove you wrong)

Like he is lowkey obsessed with your body, he loves how soft and warm you are, how your figure fits against his or presses him into the bed when you’re on top. He also loves that he can be a lil rougher with you, not having to worry about breaking you if he manhandles you a little bit(or a lotta bit hehe)

You learn firsthand the differences between Chan, Channie, and Christopher.

Chan is soft and comfy, he likes to surprise you with little kisses whenever he passes you and still acts like the goofy lil bean that you fell for when you were friends.

Channie is extra sweet and clingy, nuzzling into your chest when he’s tired after a rough day, wanting nothing more than to be cuddled and called sweet names. He’s not afraid to bust out the aegyo to get your attention and make you smile.

Christopher however is quiet and intense, dark eyes that follow your every move and is constantly not-so-subtly trailing his hands over your curves, murmuring thoughts in your ear that make your knees weak.

Overall tho, he’s just a big softie who adores you and will do anything to make you smile. He’s your best friend, bodyguard, personal therapist, and ultimate hype man, and no matter what else is going on in your worlds, you know you have each other.

Taglist:

[tan1shere]

Make It Better

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: it's almost 3 am and I'm doing this but hey ! Tann never fucking sleeps 😀 enjoy 😙

Summary: you helped your girlfriend relax.

Warnings: soft dom billie, sub reader, eating out (bil receiving) think that's it ? Smut as per !

Masterlist

It had been a long day for the both of you, Billie finally arriving home complaining slightly on song topic, how her and Finneas just couldn't seem to get anything done today. She knew she couldn't rush anything but it still annoyed her.

You two were currently laying in bed on your phones. You had been home all day, doing household chores to make sure everything was clean. You had missed her so much today, and to be honest you were starting to feel horny. That didn't help when you just opened tiktok, watching your for you page when you see edits of your girlfriend.

You loved them all, soft ones, hot ones. But this one in particular set something off inside you. It was from one of her music videos, Happier Than Ever, she was on the roof in the rain. When you catch sight of her mouth moving in a sexy way, the same way it would when your lips were on her lower ones. Your mind races as you look beside you, directly at her. You shift on the bed, feeling your pussy throb at the thought.

You place your phone down. Going to slowly get ontop of her. "Babyy." You place your hands on her shoulders. She lets out a tired sigh. "Yeah, sweetheart?" She could never ever take anything out on you, always so soft even when she had a shit day.

"Want me to make it better bils." You kiss her cheek softly, her hand coming up to your check to move some hair out of your face. "What do you have in mind sweet girl, hm?" You bit your lip gently, staring at her lips and features lovingly. "You wanna help me out baby?" You nod, really wanting to. She grabs your hand getting you to get off the bed.

"Knees angel." You do exactly that, eager to taste her. You wanted it, and so did she. She looks down at you, her blue eyes heavy with lust. Lids hooded. Her hand comes in contact with your chin, keeping your head there so you look at her. "Take off my pants baby go on." You grip them, pulling them down along with her merch boxers. She wore them all the time, and so did you. You loved wearing her merchandise it was always the softest, cozy thing you owned.

They pool around her ankles as you're face to face with her cunt. It glistening just for you, a small whine leaves your lips so excited to dive in. She chuckles at you. "Too precious." Your hands grasp her thighs as your tongue touches her clit, a whiney sigh escaping you. It was music to her ears. She craved your noises. Even more so against her. Her hands go to your hair, gripping firmly as your tongue moves to her entrance, tasting her so carefully. You were in heaven.

Her moans soon spill into the dark bedroom. "Fuck.." She breathes delicately. Your movements soon sped up. Her taste invading your mind, causing your eyes to roll back. A louder moan coming out of you. You were desperate to taste more of her. She groans slightly, that turning into beautiful moans. Not only did you desperately need her to cum. You were begging in your mind for her to make that face, the face she made in the video.

So your tongue moves from her entrance to her clit, incredibly fast. You eventually end up sucking her flaps in the process. You whine into her as the taste becomes more. She was close. "Good girl, good girl good girl." Her voice was slightly whiney as she guided your face deeper. "That's it, fuck!" She purrs as you found the right momentum. Your eyes dart up to her face, noticing it back slightly, seeing her mouth agape. There it was!

She made no sound while doing so, too caught up in the way your tongue moved. But soon enough she was gushing all over your tongue. You drink, thirsty. Her hands massaging your scalp as you do, feeling your head lean on her thigh. Out of breath yourself. "So fucking good to me baby. So. Good."

[neodazed]

The Brat Equation

1 Brat + 1 Brat = TPTGPI {the place they get put in}

In which Riki has got a pair of whiny brats to handle.

“I can give it to you however you guys want it. If you don’t like me being nice, I’ll start being mean.”

pairings: controlfreak/whipped/dom! riki x bratty/sub! sunoo x bratty/sub! fem!reader

Riki is aged up, Y/N and Sunoo are the same age, and younger (ALL ADULTS)

warnings: 3some (poly), unprotected sex (dont), LOTS of mlm scenes so dni if you dont like it, sunoo and y/n are brats but still sub, riki is a mean shit, hair-pulling, p in v, rough oral (f, m), mentions of doublepenetration, blondcest (sunooxreader), basically just porn sorry

wc: 1637

alright so actually my real freakiness started to show its tiny crumbs in this fics. my head is like full of this sickness and i’ll be going off from now on baes. coming up w longer sunghoon and riki fics after this and obvi imagines (my requests also open). have fun reading.

masterlist

“How do you manage with both of them?”

Is a question Riki gets all the time when someone finds out he’s not only dating Kim Sunoo, but also you.

Two arrogant, self-absorved, whiny people who, despite being undeniably hot, were envied, disliked, loved, hated by many.

Not like Riki cared about their opinion — he did not give a shit about random campus losers who saw the sweet look of Sunoo and you, and thought you were angels came down from heaven. He’d may scoff a little, because oh, the naivity, but still. When people see the way you sometimes act, and he practically can see green flooding their faces when they notice both of you belonging to him…he’d keep his head higher, and hold whichever of you were closer to him.

But Holy Christ, he still can’t answer the question. He’s not confused about liking you and Sunoo, of having you. No, you are his, both of you, no doubt, no question mark, firm dot.

But truly, how does he manage with both of you?

You two can really be the softest things, when you feel like it. Big glittery eyes, heads of soft blonde curls, clingy bodies, silly giggles. All rainbows and shit, basically.

But when either of you decided you wanted to be difficult, God it reached levels into the sky. Riki is not all that impatient and strict, even though most people assumed that due to his cold appearence. He was actually cold-headed in most situations, never losing his cool and softness towards his beauties at little, insignificant teasings. No, he was much better than that. Kind, loving, keeping track of every little whim you guys had, trying, and succesiding in satisfying you.

But he’s just man.

And he has limits.

Because when one of you were acting up, the other always joined, like pissing him off was a cute little bonding session for the two of you. Whether it’s just teasing him too much, making him jealous on purpose, even straight up ignoring him as a ‘joke’…the list goes on, really. The point is, everything you do, let it be nice or not, comes in with the force of two.

Considering all of that, punisments were indeed necessary, to create a balance, at least.

He didn’t favor either of you.

That would go against the purpose of this whole realitionship, and everything he feels.

The execution of the punisments were long enough, never one sided or easy, so sometimes he’d switch between which one of you he’d “torture”!a bit more.

It was just a lack of luck on Sunoo’s side that it almost ended up being him.

And you’ve done it again…

‘I can give it to you however you guys want it. If you don’t like me being nice, I’ll start being mean.’

He didn’t specify how many slaps you’d have to take when you settled down on the bed next to him. To be frank, they were no discussions of slaps at all, but you were too far gone to care.

His index and ring finger rubbed your velvety walls, and his middle circled slow motions around your bundle of nerves, which tested your patience, but you weren’t in the position to complain. At least you were getting something, right? Sunoo couldn’t say the same thing, when Riki forced his head back down onto his dick for the nth time with his other hand. You let out a little gasp at the sight. You have seen countless time before but you could never get bored of it. Sunoo is a pretty boy in general, but he is the prettiest when his eyes are filled with heavy tears, and his plump lips are wrapped around the angry head of Riki’s cock. For you, at least.

And if you weren’t already soaked before, now you are for sure. Your walls clentched around nothing and you could swear your entrance was pulsing a tingly mix of their names, S sliding in a curved line on your slit, kissing your clit gently, the two end of R digging into your hole and the rest cornering the swollen nub.

You moaned at the sight louder, and Sunoo’s fingers gripped onto your inner thigh instinctively, dangerously close to where Riki’s were working. It didn’t go past Riki’s attention, and he grumbled, yanking him up by his hair.

‘Come on, Sunoo. How could you possibly thought you can touch her before you did what I fucking asked you?’ Sunoo whined at the loss and pushed his face against the muscles of his thigh, palm sliding off of your body. 

A pathetic little sound left your lips this time, making Riki even more annoyed. You two were never satisfied. You always had something to whine about.

‘And you? Shouldn’t you be glad I’m paying attention to this pathetic cunt of yours after the shit you pulled?’ You groaned, wishing he’d just forget it and could go about this how you usually would.

‘You’re so dramatic.’ You muttered but it soon turned into a pained hiss when the slow tracing came to a stop, halted by a rather harsh slap placed directly on your pussy. Sunoo’s head shot up.

‘D-don’t think that’s necessary…’ Riki let out a heavy sigh. 

‘This is not it. Imma need both of you to shut up for a bit.’ With that, he changed positions. 

He stood on the side of the bed, and dragged your body to face his lower half, already undoing the strings of his sweatpants. You were slightly confused at first, but everything fall into place the moment you felt a raw, swollen pair of lips being pushed between your raw, and swollen pairs down there. And at that, your mouth opened almost on a reflex, enveloping the hardness Sunoo had blew into this state so deliciously. That seemed good enough for him (for now at least), both of you silenced, the only sounds reaching his ears being the whimpers muffled into your core by Sunoo, and the gagging sound you produced here and there, when the mushroom shaped head hit the back of your throat. 

The only one left unstimulated was, once again, Sunoo, who was more than happy to get suffocated by your scent and juices, but also almost suffering from how little of friction his neglected member was getting by dragging it up and down against the bed sheet. The sweet grunts were blessings when they vibrated through you, so they were for Riki, since everytime your mouth opened a little more due to the sensations, he slid in deeper.

‘Aren’t you so selfish? Too cock-drunk to care about Sunoo, yeah?’ You tried to shake your head to answer, making him chuckle. 

It really wasn’t your intention to leave Sunoo untouched and hurting, it was him making the calls, for God’s sake. It also wasn’t your fault how you enjoyed the way Riki forced his tongue and nose to bury in you, without a chance to protest or breathe. Gripping his locks and pulling him even closer to grind against his face, almost to the point it hurt? Well, that might have been on your plate.

‘Hey! No pulling’ He tsk’d in a scolding tone, like he wasn’t doing the exact same thing. He pried your grip out of Sunoo’s hair, and pulled him up all together with his own. He gasped for air with his worn out, glistening cupid pillows. Riki also gave some time for you to catch your breath.

‘Does it hurt enough for you to stop, or you need more?’ A broken whimper left him as he was yanked by his hair again. He wasn’t even sure what Riki meant – his scalp or his cock trapped in his jeans –, but he nodded, franctically.

‘Y-yes. Please, it-it hurts.’ He sniffled, and the older’s gaze seemed to soften ever slightly.

‘See? You just can’t be gentle, can you?’ He looked down at you, as if you singlehandedly did all that to him. 

He pulled Sunoo closer, kissed off the tears that coated his lips, mixed with your slick. You watch ed the scene mesmerized, the nasty kiss they shared in front of you. 

‘How about you? Sore enough?’ A sharp slap on you again.

‘I am…’

He manouvered you into the ideal setting. You, on your hands and knees, with Sunoo at the end of the bed, standing above you, and him kneeled up behind you. 

Correction: that’s the easiest way to get you soaked. Just stuffing you from both ends.

‘I let you guys off easily this time, right? I’m being way too nice’

Riki mumbled, mostly to himself, while dragging his cock in and out of you. Your body shook with every thrust, literally pushing your mouth to the base of Sunoo’s aching member. Neither of you even thought about answering that, you just took what was given you. Your tongue swirled around the veins of your boyfriends cock, while the veins of your other boyfriends cock was rubbing the insides of your cunt.

“But even this counts as a punishment for you, doesn’t it? Not having your cunt streched by two cocks at the same time’ He whispered into your ears. His tone and words just made your body hotter, the pulsing more intense, your grip on Sunoo’s hips tighter, who also moaned at just the image of being inside of you with Riki.

Above you, things only got needier. The blond tried his best not to buck into your mouth that was already pushed, and Riki found him attempting to be “good” quite amusing. He brought him closer, marking his neck up with painful looking sucks and bites all while still pistoling into you. Your throat ached, bruises formed on your waist and hips by the harsh grip he had on you, and all you could do was to take it, while they ate each other’s faces off, using your body.

See, he does changes who he “tortures” more.

Isn’t that a lovely, well balanced realitionship?

[with-my-calamitous-love]

YOU’RE IN THE KITCHEN HUMMING

osamu dazai x reader

you show dazai the beauty in domestic life

inspired by sweet nothing

when dazai pictured his future, he pictured it short.

a mastermind of people, he knew that that the universe would eventually catch up to him. to his crimes, his wrongdoings, and all of his faults. truth be told, he pictured himself in some sort of prison, bleeding out on a stake of revenge, or simply just gone. he never exactly rejected death in the first place. he accepted it with open arms.

so to think he’d find himself, washing dishes from leftover marinated crab meat and glasses stained with sake while you do the laundry is more of a surprise than anything else. every now and then he looks over his shoulder, watching how you handle the delicate fabric of his brown vest with such care. you always use unscented soap. though you certainly have the money to buy lavender, or bergamot, the two of you enjoyed the simplicity of regular soap. because then, it has the scent of home.

but what exactly does home smell like? for so many years, he couldn’t answer that question. how do you match a scent to something that doesn’t exist? maybe he’d say it smelt like the port mafia hallways, or the smell of old bandages. maybe dazai felt that home smelled like it wasn’t there to stay.

now, home smells like you. it smells like the face mask you make him use because he takes shit care of himself. it smells like your bare shoulder in the morning, the patch of skin he always insists he kisses you awake on. it smells like your laughter, your smile, your beautiful eyes. you were home.

“samu?” you quip, pulling your boyfriend out of his trances. he blinks, his lazily draped arms subconsciously tightening around you.

“yes bella?” he asks, his voice lazy and his brown eyes tired from the day. if he could melt and simply become apart of you, he would. you’re the only part of himself he actually seems to love, anyway.

“were you listening?” you chuckle, knowing that he’s a thinker. he loves you for understanding that, for knowing the signs when he’s lost in his own brain. his nail biting, his wandering eyes, his occasional hums. you know it all, maybe better than dazai knows it about himself. you’d give anything to see what he’s thinking, the beautiful equations in his brain.

his lips curve into a smile, refocusing on you as you laid in his lap all tuckered out. “i’m sorry.”

you sigh, half disappointed but half too-love-struck-to-care. he pulls you flush against his chest, letting you listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. oh, how beautiful it sounds.

“i was saying we should go down to that new bakery.” you hum, not minding to recount your experiences for him. “atsushi told me kyouka really likes the crepes there.”

you know he’s listening this time, evident by the way his slender fingers travel through your hair. he loves the silky feel of it, how it may be the softest thing he’s ever felt after years of strangling throats and pulling triggers.

he melts onto that couch with you. the only other sound that can be heard is the occasional drip and drop from the sink. he makes a mental note to check on it in the morning, making sure its not leaking too much.

in his experience, everyone was up to something. no person was just kind for the sake of being kind. and for all his life, people wanted things from dazai. he was used and shaped into a demon when all he’s ever wanted was just to disappear. he insists he’s fine, and that this is just the person he is. he assures everyone that the voices he hears, in and external, don’t bother him at all.

but to you he can admit, that sometimes, he’s just too soft for all of it.

you built a home from the ground up with him. you sheltered and fed a man who never knew what it was like to be loved without condition. all you ever wanted from dazai was nothing. sweet, sweet nothings. and he knew he’d give you everything he is and more in return for that love, for those sweet nothings.

[radlovesfics]

god I have not been able to stop thinking about this since @0bticeo brought it up but like. Knight!Mark would go so hard

be it a medieval setting or like. HEAR ME OUT!!! Mainstream mark or one of his variant selves (im seeing viltrumite) get forced to deal with alien-princess!reader for a mission to generate goodwill or a part of the plan to take control of her planet

The best way to do that is by getting close to the reader regardless and I can see two different versions of her in this scenario. (im ignoring other lore rn)

There’s the genuinely kind and sweet reader with no concept of boundaries who is too nice for her own good and all I can see is whichever of the variants (again mainly viltrumite Mark in mind) having to save reader’s dumbass as they’re basically pretending to be the equivalent of a knight for her and poor reader is in TEARS and clings to Mark just overall super physically clingy and affectionate. id like to think this is probably the first time some of the Marks have had any kind of gentle and loving touch and interpret it in their own way and either become pathetic little puppies who just want YOUR love and affection or decide you’re now basically a chew toy for them to do whatever they want with and making you cry gives them the hardest boner ever. you stay with Mark no matter what and I’d also like to think this some of the most attention you’ve ever received in your life despite being a princess and you cling to it, even if it is Mark just bullying you.

Mainstream mark would get a different scenario but the above could work too as I know damn well Mark would fold for the sweet and nice reader but

I also see mainstream Mark as someone who gets pathetic for strong/dominant/mean women, so his alien-Princess!reader would be exactly that. he has to go to her planet to help with something or for a peace thing whatever but reader is is put under his care and vice versa. she hates it! she hates every second of it!! takes out her frustration on Mark and at first Mark is really put off and they do NOT get along at all but Mark is also in awe over how pretty she is and how she’s so stubborn and headstrong and!! Maybe you’re kinder to your people than you are to anyone of the same rank as you!! He sees that and loves it!! and maybe he watches you save yourself instead of him saving you and as you stand there in the aftermath of whatever fight just transpired, looking wrecked while standing above the bodies of those who tried to fuck with you, Mark has literally never felt more attracted to anyone ever it physically HURTS. you’re glaring at him and bitch him out for being late and how you had to save yourself and you slowly lose steam bc he’s just. staring at you. absolutely smitten. and it’s making you nervous???? bc wtf shouldn’t he be snapping back at you?? but he’s just nodding along, agreeing with whatever you say with the softest look in his eyes it’s actually pathetic and adorable. he stops being so antagonistic back to you after this and you slowly realize how much you love him and something something rest is history !!!!

I honestly can’t think of much else to add here (will think more about medieval shit later) I probs have other thoughts but they gettin a bit too convoluted so this can be interpreted however LOL

[dancethroughthethunder]

Been There, Done That

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 7.6k

Summary: The residents of Jackson keep trying to tell Tommy they think there’s something going on with you and Joel but he’s not buying it. Tommy doesn’t blame them, he spent over two decades trying to get the two of you to admit your feelings for each other, and that was before the outbreak.

Author’s Note: My first ever Joel fic. This one has bounced around in my brain for quite a while, and I really have to thank the very kind commenter on my WIP list (not sure if they want to be tagged so I won't) whose kind words encouraged me to wrap and post this. My sweet, soft Joel Miller and a mischievous cast of folks in Jackson. This work can also be found here at my ao3. I hope you enjoy! Divider below credit to @saradika-graphics :)

You’re out on patrol with Joel, Jesse, and Cat walking through Teton Village. In a mile or so you’ll split off with Cat to the west while Jesse and Joel go east. For now, you’re all walking alongside your horses, giving them a chance to rest before riding ahead further. Cat is in the lead with you and Jesse in the middle, and Joel bringing up the rear just a few steps behind you. 

Compared to you and Joel, Jesse and Cat are still newer to patrolling but they’re no longer considered in training. Still, Jesse can’t help but to glance over at the two of you every now and then, making sure to follow your lead, while still maintaining an active view of his surroundings. He’s trained and patrolled with Joel enough to know just how good his situational awareness is, and how it puts him a step ahead of some of the other patrolmen.

Luckily, it’s been an easy patrol so far – there’s been no signs of infected or other people, and yesterday’s patrol didn’t turn anything up either though. two days ago someone noted some tracks. Your guards are still up, but you’re able to chat while you’re going, there’s no need for complete stealth and silence right now.

“So, Jesse, how’s Dina?” Rolling his eyes, he knows even before he turns to look at you that you’ve got a shit-eating grin. 

“I’m pretty sure you know as well as I do since you ate breakfast with her right before we left.” It’s all good natured as Jesse tries to deflect away from what you’re really asking.

“Oh, I’m not sure I know her as well as you do.” You joke.

“Alright, give the kid a break.” Before Jesse has a chance to reply, Joel catches up to you and takes your hand in his. At first, Jesse thinks that maybe Joel is trying to get your attention, or lead you somewhere but he’s shocked when he realizes that he’s just walking alongside you, his hand in yours.

He’s trying not to stare but it shocks him. Joel’s not exactly the affectionate type, but here he is with his left hand in your right, like it’s something he does every day. Neither of you seem bothered by it, and Jesse doesn’t want to make it weird so he just offers Joel an amused “thank you” for stopping your line of thought and keeps walking. 

About half a mile later, when you pass the library, you make a big show of wanting to go inside and grab a book.

“I don’t think so.” Joel interrupts.

“Oh come on, the weight of one book won’t make or break me.” You look up at Joel with a look as sweet as honey.

It’s clear you’ve had this conversation before as Joel as he fixes you with a look but doesn’t say anything. You both continue walking, it’s clear that if you really wanted to take off towards the library, you could, and it’s equally clear that Joel could tug you away if he wanted. But neither of you do. It’s a practiced song and dance between you two and Jesse watches as a smile starts to break through Joel’s attempt at looking stern.

“I’ll stop on our way back.” 

“I figured you would.” Joel says, and it’s the softest Jesse’s ever heard him sound. “Cat, don’t let her grab more than two, y’hear?” 

Cat just silently nods at the direction, and when you lock eyes with Jesse, you’ve got a mischievous look in your eyes. Jesse makes a mental note to check later – he’s almost sure that look means you’ll be returning with no fewer than three books. (You come back with five.)

Not long after that, you and Cat prepare to part ways with the guys. Jesse’s not sure when you and Joel stopped holding hands, but then again after the initial shock, it did sort of make sense for him too. He’s always assumed there was something going on with you two even though you’ve always sworn you were just friends. Hell, he’s even talked about it with Tommy. He’s looking forward to telling him this latest update later. 

“Alright, watch each others’ backs. Just because we haven’t seen anything come from those tracks doesn’t mean there’s nothing out there.” Joel tells you and Cat.

“I know. You do the same.” 

You and Joel exchange a quick nod, and Jesse does the same with Cat. Then you split one way while he and Joel go the other way. They don’t see you for the rest of the afternoon, but that’s expected with the way your routes diverge. Aside from one clicker that Joel takes out, it’s an incredibly calm patrol. 

As they enter the gates, Joel offers to sign Jesse’s gun back in with his own and take the horses. Jesse hands the gun and reins over before heading to Tommy’s office. It’s partly a chance to update him on how patrol went, but it’s mostly a chance to gossip while Tommy takes a look at some blueprints he’s been working on with Joel.

“So how was patrol?” Tommy asks after a few minutes of idle gossip, turning his focus back to his work. 

“Good, we followed up on those tracks that were spotted the other day, found one lone infected that Joel took out. Other than that, nothing out of the norm.” Jesse subconsciously stands a little straighter as he delivers this mini-report, his mind in business mode. 

Tommy doesn’t have much more to ask, he’ll get any details from Joel later and he trusts that if there’s anything to know immediately, one of the four of you would have already told him. Jesse’s a good kid and good on patrol, if he says it was all good, it was. So Tommy just nods and hums his approval.

“Tommy, they were holding hands.” Jesse says, sitting down and finally dropping what he thinks is going to be the biggest piece of gossip of the day.

Tommy doesn’t even bother looking up, “Were they near the old library?” 

“Well yeah, how’d you know?” Jesse’s eyes widen with surprise. How could Tommy possibly know that? 

“She’s always been a big reader, kid. Back in the day they’d go to the mall with Sarah, and Joel would have to practically drag her away from the bookstore before she could buy everything. Now it’s as much an old habit as it is practical. She can only carry so many books back on patrol.” 

“I’m telling you,” Jesse shakes his head, “they kept holding hands after they had walked past.”

“Joel was probably giving her shit about her running back to the library, and she was probably giving it right back about being tempted to do it.” Tommy shrugs. 

“Alright, if you say so.” Jesse wants to argue that he knows what he saw, how the two of you looked, but he gives up. Tommy’s just as stubborn as Joel and it’s easier to let it go. 

“Trust me, kid. They’ve been like this for decades. You’re not the first person to tell me you think something is up with them. I spent years thinking the same thing. But on a more interesting note, what’s this I hear about you and Dina getting back together again?” Tommy smirks, finally looking up right at Jesse.

“How the fuck could you possibly know that already? How does everyone know?” Jesse sighs exasperatedly while Tommy laughs. 

The two men spend the next hour together, talking and working as Tommy starts walking Jesse through what he’s been doing. Jesse is focused on the work but at the back of his mind, he’s still considering what he saw on patrol. The instinctive way that Joel grabbed your hand, the way it didn’t even phase you.

Sure, you were near the old library and you did joke about getting books but you didn’t look like you were trying to head there, and it didn’t look like Joel was trying to lead you anywhere, he was just trying to be with you. Frankly, it was quite a sight: big, bad Joel Miller, strapped with at least four weapons, eyes constantly scanning his surroundings and one hand softly holding onto you. What kind of trust that must entail to tie one hand to yours, knowing that’s a few extra seconds before it could reach for a weapon. Jesse loves Dina, he really does, but he’s not sure that he’d hold her hand on patrol. Not when it could be by his side, ready for action.

But, he figures, you and Joel are old hat at patrolling together. Everyone knows that you and Joel have been best friends since way before the outbreak, back to your school days. He’s seen the way you two move as one, so maybe those few seconds aren’t as concerning, as necessary. Maybe it’s an old habit, of a friendship from a lifetime ago. Besides, Tommy’s known you his whole life, has had decades of seeing you two together. Maybe he’s right, but if he isn’t, Jesse won’t wait to say I told you so. 

Just like he told Jesse, Tommy is so used to having to tell people no, you and Joel aren’t an item that he doesn’t even think to mention it to anyone. It’s old news, not even worth a mention to Maria at the end of the day despite the other gossip he passes along. He doesn’t give it another thought, not even when he’s thrust into a similar conversation with Eugene at the Tipsy Bison a few days later. 

“So, guess who I saw leaving your brother’s house early this morning?” Eugene asks as Tommy slides up next to him at the bar. 

“Do I even want to know?” Tommy asks with a groan. Joel’s really not as much of a ladies man as the gossip mill wishes he was, but he has been known to go on a date here or there. Still, as far as gossip comes, Eugene’s a pretty reliable source. 

Eugene doesn’t say anything, he just looks at Tommy as if to say, come on, guess. After a moment of silence, the look morphs into one that seems to indicate you’re not this dumb. I know you know who. 

“Oh come on, you can’t seriously tell me that even you think there’s something going on with them?” Tommy rolls his eyes. Neither man says your name, they don’t have to, they both know that they’re talking about you.

“No, I know. I’ve been on the other side of this conversation, myself, but this time there’s something to it.” Eugene jokes, taking a sip of his drink as Tommy just shakes his head. 

“You’re nuts. I think the weed is finally going to your head.” 

“That may be, but I know what I saw.” Eugene says. “We got that heavy rain this morning, and I was out on the porch just watching it come down when I saw her come out and head down the road towards her own house.” 

Tommy just shakes his head, “alright so she was there. You and I both know that doesn’t mean anything. They were probably just having breakfast.” 

You were, in fact, having breakfast. Joel had fried up a few eggs and you had brought over a loaf of bed to have some toast. The two of you ate your breakfast and sat there, watching the rain through the window as you drank your coffee. Eventually, a glance at the clock told you that it was time to head home so you could get ready before your shift. You were helping out at the school today – in another life, you were a substitute teacher to get through grad school, and while you’re a bit of a Jack-of-all-trades nowadays, you still find yourself slipping into the classroom from time-to-time. 

“Alright, thanks for breakfast, I’ve gotta head home.” You told Joel as you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, watching as he put away the last dish you’d washed and dried. 

“Are you sure I can’t talk you into staying for another cup of coffee?” Just like every time you’re over for breakfast, Joel refused to let you wash your coffee mug right away, just in case you want another, he always says.

“Joel Miller? Offering to give away even more of his coffee? That’s crazy talk. You keep that up and people are liable to think you’ve been body snatched.” You laughed as you headed to the front door to lace up your shoes. You didn’t notice the way Joel pauses for a moment, glancing back into the kitchen as if to confirm he’s still got an extra can tucked away high in the pantry where you wouldn’t think to look. 

“At least take a jacket. You should’ve brought one.” Joel moved to grab his raincoat from the hall closet.

“It wasn’t raining when I left. Besides, a little rain never killed anyone.” You smiled. 

“I don’t know about that, you might be sweet enough to melt.” Joel teased.

“You’re incorrigible, Joel Miller. I’m fine, I’m only going over two streets to go get ready. I can dry off and grab my own jacket before I head to the school.”

“Yeah, alright. Have a good day.” Joel knew he'd lost, it’s always a battle of stubborn will between you and it was his turn to give in. 

With the rain pouring down around you, you gave Joel a quick wave before setting off towards your house. It was the type of heavy rain where you just keep your head down and trudge through to your destination. You meant what you said, you didn’t mind the walk in the rain, but it did keep you from really noticing Eugene watching from a few porches down as you departed. 

“Nah, it was too early to be decent. Hell, I couldn’t even tell you why I was up. Maybe the storm woke me.” Eugene tells Tommy, now that he’s done recounting the way he saw you leave this morning.

Instead of continuing to focus on your alleged walk of shame, Tommy takes the opportunity to joke with Eugene. “Ah, that old man sleep schedule.” 

Before either man can say anything else, Tommy feels someone coming up behind him. 

“You’re no spring chicken yourself, anymore.” Joel knocks shoulders with Tommy, joining their conversation. 

Whether Eugene agrees with Tommy’s assessment of a casual, platonic breakfast or not, he takes the hint to drop the conversation while the brothers start bickering. Even if Tommy completely missed the point Eugene was trying to make. There’s no way you would have been out in that weather early enough for breakfast, and even if you had been crazy enough, you would have had a jacket.

No, Eugene knows what he saw and what it meant. Tommy can think whatever he wants, but Eugene is sure you didn’t just go over for breakfast, but woke up and had it there. At the end of the day, he’s amused but it’s really none of his business so when the next conversation comes along, Eugene lets it go. There’s no point in bringing it up any further yet, but maybe he’ll keep an eye on you two and see if he notices anything else. 

A week later, Dina heads towards the front gates, waiting for Jesse to return from another patrol. She knows how proud he’s been to get to go on more and more patrols, and today he’s out  with Joel again, just the two of them. Dina’s only been on a few patrols so far, and she knows Jesse likes patrolling with and learning from Joel the best, but she prefers your style of teaching. She likes Joel and he knows what he’s doing, but you feel like a cool aunt, or a fun older sister, even out on patrol. Dina misses Talia, and while neither of you are trying to replace the people you’ve lost, it’s nice to have someone in that familial role. 

Today, she gets to go out on patrol with you, taking over after Jesse and Joel. The two of you had grabbed lunch with Ellie before you offered to go sign out the guns if Dina would get the horses, telling her you’d meet her by the gates.  

By the time Dina (and both horses) walk up to the gates, you’re already there chatting with Maria. Dina walks up to join you and you exchange her gun for the reins to your horse. 

“Alright, I’ll stop by later.” You tell Maria, turning to make sure everything is set the way you like it. Dina waves to Maria as she turns to walk away. 

“Let’s just wait a few minutes for the guys to get back and then we can head out.”

Strategically, it’s a smart choice. It means the gates only have to open once, and that you can quickly touch base and see if there is anything you should know before you head out. Selfishly, Dina’s glad to have the chance to see Jesse. Plus, she’s convinced there’s something going on between you and Joel so she’s taking every opportunity she can to pay attention. 

Sure enough, not even a minute later she hears the call to open the gates and the two of them move forward so they can meet the guys right at the opening.

Dina watches as your eyes light up with relief seeing Joel and Jesse back in one piece. She notices the way you give each of them a quick once-over for any injuries before your gaze lingers on Joel. She feels an immediate sense of satisfaction, this is the exact type of thing she's looking out for.

“Hi, you. Come here often?” You ask.

“I’ve been known to.” Joel responds, and it’s easy for Dina to see why the women of Jackson love to watch him – with that charming smile and gleam in his eyes, not to mention the accent. He’s not her type, but she gets it.

Dina takes a minute to say hi to Jesse while you and Joel talk.

“Anything we should know?” She asks, in a similar version of the conversation you and Joel are having.

“We didn’t see anything, so hopefully your route is quiet too.” Jesse tells her. 

“Okay.” Dina says, giving him a quick kiss. “I’ll see you later.”

“Be safe.” Jesse tells her.

“You be safe out there.” Joel tells you at the same time.

“Always am. Love you.” Dina’s glad she’s looking at Jesse and not towards you and Joel because her jaw drops. Sure, she thought something was going on but she wasn't expecting anything so direct.

Joel grunts back something that sounds like “love you too.” Dina doesn’t think her jaw could be any lower. She knows you’re an affectionate person but telling Joel you love him? In the middle of Jackson? And him saying it back? No way is she hearing what she’s hearing. A quick glance at Jesse’s look of astonishment reveals that she’s not the only one shocked or who heard it.

“Alright, miss Dina. Time for us to head out.” 

Dina just nods, still stunned by your matter of fact, nonchalant tone, and mounts her horse to follow you out of the gates. 

You do spend a good part of patrol talking about people in Jackson (general), relationships (hers) and rumors, but you never mention what you said to Joel. She has so many questions but doesn’t want to scare you off, or make patrol weird. No, she’ll keep waiting and watching and bring it up later. 

The next day, she stops by lunch with everyone to grab a sandwich and is delighted to see Tommy and Ellie eating together.

“Oh my god.” She says, in lieu of a greeting.

“Good afternoon to you, too.” Tommy says while Ellie just nods with a mouthful of food. 

“You’ll never guess what I heard yesterday?” She’s so excited she doesn’t give them a chance to answer before continuing, “so, as you know we had patrol after Joel and Jesse and we met them at the gates to switch off and right before we left, I heard her tell Joel she loves him. And he said it back!” She’s nearly yelling, she’s so excited.

“Okay.” Tommy says, before taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Okay? Okay! This is big news!” She exclaims.

“Dina, I hear you. But, I’ve been hearing her say that since high school.”

“No way, this was romantic. Trust me.” Ellie snorts as Dina digs her heels in. 

“I thought that too. It’s easier when you just accept it.” He shrugs.

“I dunno, Tommy. They do look pretty damn cozy lately.” Ellie adds in Dina's defense. “But then again, it is Joel, so.” Dina’s smile fades as she groans in reply to Ellie.

“Exactly, it’s Joel. Joel!” She tries again.

“What’s this about Joel?” You ask, walking up to the table with your own plate in hand. 

“Ah, Dina’s just telling us about you telling Joel you love him.” Tommy pointedly ignores the look Dina is giving him to be quiet, and tells you the exact thing she’s trying to avoid him saying.

“Tommy what the fuck?” She bursts out and you just laugh.

“Oh, fair enough.” You say, sitting down. Dina watches, exasperated as you unwrap your sandwich and start eating. No, it doesn’t matter how Tommy denies it and you play it off, she’s positive something is going on. And she’s going to keep watching until she has complete proof. She was already on a mission, but now she's determined to double down. While you start talking with Tommy, she scoots over closer to Ellie, roping her into her plan. 

It takes another week for the girls to come up with their plan and get everything ready, but it’s finally time. Ellie has talked Joel into another movie night and Dina has gotten you to promise that you’ll attend, not that it took much convincing. 

They almost go so far as to ask Maria what kind of movie you should watch, but decide against it, worrying that she’d tell you their scheme. They do tell Tommy, much to his amusement. 

“Hold on, so your big plan is to watch a movie with them, and just see what they do?” The corners of his eyes crinkle with amusement. “And you think this will be different from any other movie you’ve watched with them, because…?”

“We have a plan, Tommy.” Ellie says, almost defiantly.

“Yeah. I asked her about what movies she likes on patrol, and talked her into looking at the library to see what they have. She found a few she said she liked that we brought back. This way it’s something she already knows, and they have options.” Dina nods as if this is the lynchpin of their entire plan. 

“Plus, Dina will pretend to get a headache and go home and I’ll ‘fall asleep’ on the couch so they’ll think it’s just them but I can watch them.” She’s so excited about it, it brings a genuine smile to Tommy’s face.

For a minute, Tommy is thrown back 20 years, instead of Ellie, it’s Sarah scheming over the two of you. He tries so hard to see them each as their own person, but sometimes, in moments like this, he can’t help but see the similarities. But he can’t say that, so instead he just smiles.

The girls spend the rest of the day excited and finally, it’s time to head over for dinner. They’re full of excited energy as they meet you and Joel at the house, and instead of going off to Ellie’s room like they normally do, they sit with you in the kitchen while you cook, talking about a little of everything until Joel finally cracks and sends them to the living room, “It's not that big of a kitchen, it’s gonna take twice as long if you’re hovering.”

You just laugh and wink at Dina as the girls groan and go to the living room.

“They’re in good spirits today.” You say.

“Teenage girls, still the same as 20 years ago apparently.” Joel grumbles, but you see through it to know that he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Who would have thought at our big age we’d still be surrounded by them?” You pause your stirring and share a smile with Joel. You miss Sarah more than anything, and are glad to have Ellie and Dina in your lives, even when they’re being ridiculous. 

Without the constant interruptions, you two finish making dinner and call the girls to the table to eat. It’s a practiced routine with you and Joel dishing out food around each other listening to Ellie’s recount of her day. 

You’re not entirely sure what’s up during dinner but it’s clear that the girls are up to something . The little looks between the two of them, the way they keep giggling when they mention movie night. You’re just not sure what. Dina had the great idea to check out the movie selection at the Grand Teton library on patrol so you know you’ve got a couple of new options and you can’t think what might be causing it. Oh , you realize, one of the movies you grabbed was Dirty Dancing, the title is probably what’s giving them the giggles.

With that mystery solved, you turn your attention back to your dinner, leaving the girls to their own amusement. By the time dinner is done, they seem to mostly contain themselves so you send them off to pick a movie in the other room while you and Joel do the dishes. 

“What is with the giggling?” Joel says, the second you hear laughter coming from the other room.

“My best guess? We grabbed Dirty Dancing. I think the title is setting them off.” You shrug as you scrub the next dish.

“Could be.” Joel muses. 

It doesn’t take long for you to finish the dishes and dry your hands. Before you can make your way to the living room, Dina and Ellie come back to the kitchen.

“Dina’s got a headache!” Ellie nearly yells. It’s almost laughable, only Ellie would shout next to someone with a headache. 

“Yeah, sorry, I think I need a rain check on movie night.” Dina says, almost looking sheepish.

“Alright, honey. You want to go up to Ellie’s room and lay down? I can grab you a cool cloth.” You offer, concerned.

“No, that’s okay, I’m just gonna head home.” Dina says with a small shrug.

“Why don’t we save the movie for another night? We can play a game with Ellie instead.” You look over at Joel who nods in agreement.

“No!” Both girls yell, startling you and Joel.

“Dina doesn’t mind.” Ellie says.

“Yeah, I don’t want you to miss out. I’ll watch another time!” Dina adds. You and Joel exchange a look but frankly, you don’t have the energy to try and decipher every bit of teenage weirdness from the girls so you just agree. Dina gets sent home with a couple of cookies you were going to share during the movie, a hug, and a promise to you to get some rest. 

You and Joel turn back to the dishes to finish cleaning up while Ellie walks Dina to the door.

“That was fucking perfect, I don’t think they suspect anything.” Ellie says, louder than she intends. In the kitchen, you have to bite back your laughter. Truthfully, you’re not sure what this performance has been about, but you definitely suspect something is up with Dina. Even if you didn't, Ellie's momentary inability to whisper would have looped you in.

“Okay, you’ll have to tell me everything.” Dina says.

“Tomorrow at breakfast.” Ellie nods, seriously, as if they’re discussing battle plans and not an attempt to catch you and Joel in a romance. 

Dina leaves and Ellie meets you and Joel in the living room. She claims the slightly larger of the two couches, and sprawls out hoping it will push you two to sit closely on the other.

“How does one small person take up so much space?” Joel teases. Ellie just lifts up a middle finger in response while you laugh. 

You toss her a blanket as you cross the room towards the small stack of VHS tapes. 

“I’m thinking Raiders of the Lost Ark. It’s one of my favorites, I think you’ll like it, El.” Joel just laughs, knowing how many times you’d bring it over for movie night back in the day.

“Sure.” Honestly, Ellie doesn’t care what you watch tonight, since her focus is going to be on you and Joel. 

With that decided, you pop the tape in the VCR and grab a blanket for yourself. You make your way back to the couch and Ellie nearly jumps for joy when you curl up right next to Joel like you always do. 

As Joel extends an arm on the back of the couch behind you, he raises one eyebrow at Ellie, trying to figure out why she’s being so damn weird. When she gives him a thumbs up, he’s no less confused but brushes it off as Ellie being Ellie. 

She makes sure to get cozy at an angle where she can see the tv and you and Joel, but you won’t have an easy glimpse to know whether or not she’s awake. A few minutes into the movie she makes a point to yawn, and then she does it again a few minutes later. Damn, she thinks, this does look like a good movie, but it’ll be worth it to watch you and Joel. She’ll just have to see if you want to watch it with her again sometime. 

Not even twenty minutes into the movie, you look over at Ellie and nudge Joel, “she’s out cold.” 

Joel moves to reach for the remote before you can stop him, “no, it’s okay. Let her sleep, she and I can watch it another time.” Joel just nods and when he moves back, his arm falls from the back of the couch to around your shoulders. Ellie thinks she deserves some kind of award for feigning sleep during this. 

With Joel’s arm around your shoulders, one of your favorite movies on the tv and a cozy blanket draped over your laps, you’re happy as a clam and contentedly drop your head to Joel’s chest. The two of you stay that way for the rest of the movie. On the one hand, Ellie considers your cuddling a win. On the other hand, she was definitely hoping for something more exciting. Though she does eventually actually fall asleep, but she won’t tell Dina that part. 

The next morning, she’s wide awake the second her feet hit the floor for once, ready to meet Dina for breakfast. She tosses out a “good morning, going to breakfast, bye” all in one breath before she runs out the door. 

Dina’s already waiting for her with two plates when she gets to breakfast, and she eagerly fills her in on what happened after she left. It doesn’t take long for them to spot Tommy and wave him over to share their information.

“Them cuddling during a movie? During Raiders? Sorry, kiddos, been there done that. Literally.” Tommy offers them a sympathetic smile.

“You can’t ruin this for us, Tommy. Something’s up with them.” Ellie insists.

“Whatever you say.” Tommy laughs and shakes his head before saying goodbye and heading off to work for the day.

This time, he does mention it to Maria when they’re chatting after dinner. 

“Honestly, hon, I don’t know why everyone is suddenly so focused on them. They’ve been like this forever. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been convinced that they were finally getting together. It’s always ‘no, Tommy, we’re just friends’, ‘Tommy it’s platonic’, ‘she’s just a friend, Tommy’ so I finally was like fine! Short of them fucking making out in front of my face, it’s all platonic.” Tommy’s being overdramatic and Maria is having a hard time keeping a straight face. 

“I’m sorry to say, I also think that there’s something going on there.”

“Oh, not you too.” Tommy groans.

This afternoon, it was Maria’s turn to stop by the store to get what passes for groceries nowadays. They still have some things in the pantry, and later this week they’re having a birthday dinner for you, so she mostly focused on grabbing some produce and meat. 

She had looked over and saw Joel entering the store. They exchanged a pleasant nod and she continued with her shopping while Joel began his. Joel seemed to be a man on a mission and quickly gathered what he needed, with them both arriving at the front at the same time. 

With a slightly larger basket, Maria gestured to let Joel go first. 

Joel set his purchases down on the counter where it could be marked off for inventory purposes. Maria glanced down and saw sugar, flour, eggs, and some applesauce. With a nod, Dominique reached under the counter and grabbed what appeared to be a container of spices. Wordlessly, Joel pulled a can of coffee out of his bag in exchange.

“Normally you’re taking home the coffee, not bringing it back.” Maria couldn’t help herself from saying. 

“Well, her birthday’s coming up.” Joel scratches the back of his neck and shrugs. “Her favorite has always been spice cake, and I asked Dominique a while ago to keep an eye out for any spices I could use.” 

Maria’s heart melted. Coffee is hard to come by, and it’s long been a running joke in Jackson that now that they’ve got a steady supply, nothing could come between Joel Miller and his daily cup. But to see him willingly handing over an entire can of it, just to get something for you, is something she never expected from him.

“You were in luck, too. I almost feel bad asking for the whole can in return.” Dominique joked, despite taking the coffee anyways.

“Thank you, mighty appreciated.” Joel nodded, grabbing the rest of his goods to put in his bag before delicately placing the spice jar on top. 

Maria wanted to say more, but it was clear that was enough sentimentality for Joel as it was. So instead, she said, “well, I, for one, am looking forward to this Friday night birthday party. It’s nice to be able to celebrate things even though it’s not how it used to be.”

Joel simply nodded in return, but one glance at the look in his eyes told Maria that he was visiting a faraway time, a time where he could have gotten you a cheap cake from the supermarket, ice cream, and easy, store bought presents. If she could have seen in his mind, she’d have heard years of singing each other happy birthday with laughter – his, yours, Tommy’s, their parents, and Sarah’s. She’d have seen the way that Sarah insisted on learning how to make a spice cake every year, even though you promised you’d have been just as happy with chocolate cake, or vanilla; the way your eyes would always light up with the first bite, the perfect mix of the spices in the cake with the frosting (regular, not cream cheese, thank you very much). 

She couldn’t see any of that, but she could see Joel’s love for you in this simple act of preparing to bake a cake. So, much like the other residents of Jackson, including their friends lately, she filed it away to tell Tommy. 

“Alright, I’ll admit, you make a compelling argument. I guess that’s what I get for marrying a lawyer.” Tommy jokes, pulling her into his lap. “Still, they’ve always been close. I’m telling you, they’re just friends. After all this time, I’ve given up hope of matchmaking them.” He jokes. 

“You never know.” Maria teases, laying her head on her husband’s shoulder, before changing the subject slightly to what’s planned for your birthday party and who is responsible for what. 

The next few days fly by for your group as everyone is looking forward to getting together. Naturally, everyone spends all of their time together anyways but it’s nice to have an event planned, something to look forward to that celebrates something like Maria told Joel. 

Tonight’s party is being held after dinner, and has your closest friends and family. You’ve got a big flannel on over a comfortable dress that lives at the back of your closet for every celebration under the sun and Ellie plopped a homemade, paper birthday crown on your head. Everyone has finished their dinner and Joel disappeared for a moment before bringing out a cake. Which, admittedly, made you tear up. It’s the end of the world and he’s still making you a birthday cake, you shake your head at the thought.

“Alright, thank y’all for comin’. I know I don’t usually host or make a big speech, but bear with me just a minute.” Joel stands, with a drink in hand, looking around the bar at everyone gathered for your birthday: you, Ellie, Dina, Jesse, Maria, Tommy, and Eugene. The best of your community, as far as you’re concerned. 

“Someone often tells me that it’s okay to celebrate, the big things and the little things. Hell, she’s been telling me that most of my life. So today, this one’s for you, darlin’. It’s hard work to keep a place like this running and lord knows how much we all owe Tommy and Maria, but we also owe it to you. To the way you volunteer for a little bit of every job, take care of everyone, and I’m sure everyone agrees that we owe you a big thank you for putting up with me and keeping me as in line as you can, all these years.” Joel says, laughing when Tommy bursts out laughing. 

“I love you, honey. I ain’t got any candles but you’ll just have to close your eyes and make a wish anyways.” 

Tommy watches Joel tuck you into his side and press a kiss to the top of your head while you close your eyes to make your wish and blow out the lighter Eugene offers. It’s such a familiar scene to Tommy that he can almost picture Sarah sitting on your other side, waiting to help you cut and serve the cake. He’s so busy thinking about the life you all deserved that he nearly misses seeing you open your eyes, and lean up to press a kiss to Joel’s lips.

“Hold on, what ?!” Amidst the chorus of ‘happy birthday’ that’s starting, Tommy is staring at you two, wide eyed.

“What do you mean ‘what’, Tommy Miller?” You’ve got a mischievous smile on your face as you grab the knife from Maria and start cutting the cake. 

“Ain’t you been the one tryin’ to get us together all this time?” Joel adds.

“Well, I was. But the two of you are hopeless so I gave up. Years ago. You’re just friends. That’s what you’ve been saying, that’s what I’ve been telling everyone.” Tommy throws his hands in the air, exasperated, as though the two of you have organized all of this just to frustrate him.

“I mean we were, and then we weren’t.” Joel adds, unhelpfully. 

“Tommy, we haven’t exactly been subtle,” you laugh, “I’m pretty sure Jesse saw us holding hands a few weeks ago.” You nod your head towards Jesse who doesn’t get his chance to finally say I told you so before Tommy cuts him off. 

“He said you were passing the library, Joel always had to hold your hand passing the bookstore so you wouldn’t wander off and buy the whole fucking store.” 

“He was holding my hand long before we got to the library.” You smile, leaning back into Joel.

“That’s what I said!” Jesse whispers to Dina, who tucks her head into his shoulder and giggles.

“Okay fine, so you were holding hands.” Tommy concedes.

“Right, and I know Dina heard me tell Joel I love him before patrol one day because y’all were talking about it the next day.” Dina’s giggles continue. 

“You’ve been telling him that for decades. Hell, you tell me and Maria you love us. I don’t see you kissing us.” 

“I didn’t know either of you wanted me to, sugar.” You wink at him. “But nah, fair enough. Well, he never said anything to me but I think Eugene saw me leaving Joel’s too early to be decent one morning.” Your voice trails up, unsure.

“I did.” Eugene confirms, very matter of fact. 

“Though he might not have said anything.” You add, assuming that maybe he hadn’t since it had never gotten back to you or Joel.

“No, I did that too.” Everyone laughs. Eugene might be a cranky old man, but damn does he love his gossip. But you have to earn the right for him to like you enough to include you in it, and all of you at this table have been lucky enough to have been brought into the fold. 

“How many times in school did I come downstairs and you were already there for breakfast? Half the time you came over with breakfast in exchange for a ride to school and half the time you’d fallen asleep studying or watching a movie with me right there too. How was I supposed to know this time it was different?” Tommy continues ranting.

“Tommy, have you been watching my girl all this time?” 

“How the hell could I not, Joel? Everywhere I’ve gone for decades it’s ‘are they together’, ‘have they finally kissed’, 'are they sleeping together', nobody wanted you two together more than me. But no, every time I thought there was something going on you convinced me it was just platonic. Excuse me for finally believing you.” Tommy’s doing a remarkable job keeping up the facade of being annoyed, but you can tell how delighted he is for the two of you.

“Okay, so my brother and my best friend are together. Finally, after all these years. It’s all I’ve wanted, so why the hell do I feel cheated?” He finishes his rant with an exaggerated sigh.

“In our defense, we really thought you knew. Don’t think I don’t know that Miss Dina and Miss Ellie over there have been watching our every move.” Ellie looks sheepish for once at having been caught. 

“Well regardless of who knows or not”, Joel cuts back in, “I wanted to thank all of y’all for helping me put together this party for the best woman I’ve ever known. I don’t know why you put up with me, with any of us” Joel says with a wink to Ellie, “But we’re sure glad you do. Happy birthday, baby. Let’s have some cake.”

“Oh fuck yeah, finally!” Ellie yells as she squeezes past Maria to grab one of the first slices of cake. She’s never had spice cake before but Joel has told her about it, how it’ll be the first one he’s been able to make for you in years. It's been a monumental effort for her not to have ruined the surprise for you and she's pretty proud of herself, and ready to finally try it.

Sure, Tommy had a point, or several, with the reason he assumed you two were still platonic but Joel still can’t believe his brother didn’t know you had gotten together. Joel doesn’t need a mirror to know that he looks at you like you hung the moon in the sky. He’s still got one arm around you, and looks down to see you laughing at something with Dina and Jesse while you’re scooping a bite of cake into your mouth. When that first bite hits your tongue, your eyes light up at the familiar flavor that you never thought you’d get to experience again.

Joel loves you in every mood, but damn does he love the way you look when you’re happy. He knows you’ll tease him for it later, that everyone here is likely to, but he doesn’t bother waiting for you to finish your conversation as he uses his other hand to tilt your chin towards him and kiss you. You’re still finishing your cake so you end up accidentally covering him in frosting as well. 

“Oops.” You say, not at all sorry, as you grab a napkin to wipe his face. But Joel doesn’t let you, he just pulls you back in for another kiss. This one is long enough that Ellie starts complaining about “old people germs” and “public indecency”. You start laughing into the kiss before pulling away, setting down your plate to chase Ellie around the room to press a sloppy kiss to her cheek.

“I mean really, holding hands, being together at all hours, saying they love each other, saving up for a spice cake? From the two of them? Been there, done that, for over 30 damn years!” Tommy grumbles one last time to Maria as she hands him a plate of cake. In truth, he’s thrilled. He can’t keep the smile from his face as he looks at you, at the love that was there all along that you’ve finally given into. 

I hope you’re seeing this, sweetheart. He sends a thought up to Sarah, knowing that she wanted you two together as much as he always did. The world might have ended long ago, but as long as there are pockets of love and joy like this, they can keep going.

[fawnnpaws]

I need u to hear me out on this one Ok. Ok so. listen to me im on some devious shit. 30s art somno… years and years of tennis is catching up to him and his body just doesn’t keep up. he’s a major sleepyhead (like, clinically, he should see a doctor) and takes a nap or two everyday. it doesn’t bother you, of course, you know it’s good for him and what he needs, plusssss he looks so delicate when hes sleeping. he’s a relatively light sleeper too, but falls back asleep really easily so he’ll jostle a little when you start to grope him but falls right back to sleep when he sees it’s only you. etc etc u see whats happening.. hello can anyone hear me is this thing on

i love that u prefaced me needing to hear u out when i was on board the second u mentioned somno I’M SAT !!! I LOVE SOMNO !!! <3333

oohhh he looks so pretty when he’s sleeping, it’s so hard to resist waking him up so you can kiss him stupid. you find him asleep all over the house for a while, sometimes on the couch, sometimes at his desk in his office, but usually he’ll put himself to bed when he knows he needs to sleep for a couple hours mid-day. you know he needs the extra rest, but something about how soft and pliant he gets in his sleep makes you ache to touch him. it shouldn’t be hard to resist, really. you tell yourself you should have the self control not to touch your husband while he’s sleeping, to wait until he’s awake. but you don’t have that self control. how can you when he sleeps in nothing but his tiny little blue briefs and kicks the covers off himself when he gets too hot? how can you when he lets out the softest little whimper when you skim your hand down his chest and graze your fingers over his dick? it just makes you want more.

you move him gently so he’s laying on his back with his legs spread for you to sit on your knees between them. you’re so careful not to wake him at first, but the more you touch and grope at his body the more his dick starts to fill out and strain against his briefs. he’s letting out these soft sighs that have wetness pooling in your panties and suddenly you don’t really care about being careful anymore. you toy with his waistband and smile to yourself at how his hips lift towards you. he’s still so reactive even when he’s asleep. you don’t even take his underwear off fully, just pull his waistband down under his balls and climb on top of him. you’re thankful you wore a dress today as you move your panties to the side and sink down on his cock in one fluid motion. finally, his eyes flutter and his brows knit together. he peeks one eye open and visibly relaxes again when he looks up and sees you. his voice is thick with sleep and you can tell he’s barely half awake, “baby?”

you roll your hips and grind his dick against that sweet spot inside you. “just me, honey, just - fuck - needed you. it’s okay, go back to sleep.”

he doesn’t need to be told twice, just lets out a whiny mhmm and closes his eyes again. his jaw goes slack and you can’t help it, you start bouncing yourself on his cock. you brace your hands on his chest, squeezing his pretty tits as you work yourself up and down. it doesn’t take long for you to get close to the edge. somehow even in his sleep, art’s dick hits that soft spongey spot inside you every time you rock your hips down and he’s still letting out those pretty sighs. it feels dirty, using his body like this when he’s not even conscious, but the power he’s giving you makes your head spin. you could do anything to him and he’d let you. he’d have no choice. you bring a hand to your clit and you can’t help the staccato moans falling from your lips. what finally sends you over the edge is the feeling of sticky warmth filling your pussy as art cums and his hips involuntarily jerk up into yours. “oh fuck—” you follow immediately after, cum so hard you think your eyes cross. a full body shiver wracks through you and you fuck yourself through it, art’s body limp beneath you.

you gingerly lift yourself off of him, readjusting your panties and his briefs. you should clean him and yourself up, but you revel in the feeling of his cum leaking out of you and soaking into your panties. you lay down facing him, now craving a nap of your own, sighing happily and weaving your legs with his. his arms instinctively wrap around you and pull you close until you’re flush against his chest. as you drift off to sleep, you can’t help but think about making him suck your panties and pussy clean of his cum. it’s only fair since he came before you <33