#okay also I know it's been months but... one of you has to like this post or at least show you read/interacted with my

[aureatelys]

adore you

pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader w.c. 3k a/n: written for @mggslover's 1k celebration event, congrats baby! i initially wrote 5k, hated it, and basically rewrote all of it but i swear i still had fun writing this. i hope you enjoy <3

summary:

Weird. You're acting like my boyfriend. - God Is a Freak, Peach PRC Your boss has essentially become your best friend. What the hell does Derek mean he looks at you a certain way?

c.w.: fluff! friends to lovers, age gap ofc, feelings realization, reader is oblivious and tipsy but is a consenting party

read below or on ao3 here <3

“So, you and Hotch, huh?”

You had just finished putting your coat up, stepping through the massive entryway of Rossi’s mansion, when Derek approaches you with that familiar shit-eating grin and hands rubbing together like he’s scheming something.

You blink up at him, confused. “Yeah… he gave me a ride.”

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head but still wearing that smile that made you want to lovingly punch him. “Yeah, I saw that. I meant, you and Hotch aren’t…?”

You squint at him, because you really aren’t sure what he’s hinting at. Also, a glass of wine has been calling your name since you started getting ready and Derek is very much in the way of that. Hotch was always annoyingly punctual, and today was no different because you were honestly about to open up a bottle when you heard his car pull up in the driveway. “We aren’t what?”

“Sweetness. You’re really trying to tell me you and Hotch aren’t together?”

You choke on your spit, coughing so loud in your fist that it echoes down the entryway and gathers the attention of Rossi and Hotch at the end of it. You wave them off when they both give you equally alarmed and concerned looks while Derek laughs heartily, like the asshole he is.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you hiss at him, slapping him on the shoulder as he nearly makes himself tear up from laughing.

Derek puts a somewhat apologetic hand on your arm as he steers you to the kitchen and pours you a glass of red, finally. “Hey, I see the way he looks at you, I just wanted to make sure I’m up to date on everything.”

And that catches your attention.

Your chest still aching from your coughing fit, you give him another perplexed look. “What? He looks at me the same way as he looks at everyone.”

Derek’s face morphs into a nervous, almost uncomfortable one as he starts slowly backing away into the living room, as if you were an unpredictable dangerous animal. “I think I’m gonna… look for Garcia.”

And then he turns on his heel and is out of the kitchen before you can blink, leaving you with your lone glass of wine and the sounds of laughter emanating from the patio.

You’re still so fucking confused, because you and Hotch were only friends. In fact, you can almost consider him your best friend with the way you two are spending so much time together, even on the weekends.

One late night spent in his office to work on reports that were due the next day that you had procrastinated on and ordering Chinese food eventually turned into a habitual thing, now spending the last hour of the workday every night in his office. Then, he started inviting you to the park to play with Jack who had apparently been asking for you, then staying for dinner because Hotch was not eating the way he should’ve been and him and Jack didn’t deserve to eat pizza rolls with mac and cheese every night.

It's been a couple of months and now, you can honestly say you two are nearly attached at the hip. You’ve tried to tone it down for the office, because you knew you would get teased, and clearly you were right.

But dating Hotch? Honestly, the thought had never occurred to you.

You’ve been single for over a year and you were okay with that, because at least the job kept you busy. And you know for a fact that Hotch hasn’t even thought about dating since Beth moved a couple of years ago.

The sudden thought of Beth, her pretty blue-green eyes and perfect hair, causes a sour taste to form in your mouth. You had never met her, having only technically heard good things about her, but every time you thought of her or someone mentioned her in passing, you felt… upset.

For no reason.

When you glance at Hotch from where he’s talking with the rest of the team on the patio, you catch his gaze for a brief second before he’s turning his head back around to chuckle at something Rossi says.

You feel your heart start to race, your blood rushing through your ears, because what the fuck did Derek mean when he said Hotch looks at you a certain way? You were telling the truth when you said you’ve only noticed him looking at you platonically and nothing more.

Sure, Hotch was conventionally attractive, handsome even. You guess he hit all your boxes in a guy; tall, capable hands, and pretty brown eyes. He was a good boss, a good man, and was always putting other people first before even thinking about himself. He had an intense sense of justice, loves children, and would do absolutely anything for his team and even beyond for Jack.

He has a nice laugh once you break down his walls. For all he’s meticulous at work, his house is absolutely chaotic and it takes you nearly an hour sometimes to get him and Jack ready for a soccer game. He doesn’t prefer to cook but he seems to enjoy it more when you’re in the kitchen with him, laughing at his technique and groaning about the lack of certain utensils.

The sudden realization that you like Hotch, your boss that is older than you by 20 years, hits you like a ton of bricks. You nearly snap the stem of your wine glass, something like panic and mortification climbing up your throat before you could help it.

It’s fine, you’re fine. It’s normal to have a crush on someone you spend time with on a regular basis and is conventionally attractive. You can deal with that.

But the absolute possibility that Hotch doesn’t want you romantically was very real. In fact, it had to be the only possibility. You were younger and less experienced, both romantically and professionally. The only reason that he’s been spending so much time with you was because you needed guidance and reassurance as the newest member of the team.

He doesn’t look at you any differently than the others. That’s it. Derek has no idea what he’s talking about.

You take a shuddering deep breath, quickly composing yourself because, hello, you work with profilers. Which meant you couldn’t avoid or hide from Hotch tonight, no matter how much you wanted to.

When you make your way out to the patio to join the others with a full glass of wine and you spot the only space left in the circle was between Spencer and Penelope, you internally thank whatever God was out there. The sound of them talking over each other about something inane was oddly comforting as your eyes met Aaron’s from the other side of the circle.

His eyes appeared golden from the numerous fairy lights strewn across Rossi’s backyard, making his face appear softer and younger. You’re not sure how it took you this long to realize he was so handsome.

He raises his eyebrows at you, silently asking if you were okay because, somehow, he’s grown to learn your facial expressions like the back of his hand, which means he most likely will catch on to you having a silly juvenile crush on him.

You give him a weak smile, raising your glass slightly before taking a large gulp of it. You’re glad that Rossi is Rossi and that he doesn’t spare any expenses when he throws his parties, the strong cherry flavor refreshing compared to your cheap boxed wine you’re used to. You don’t even remember what you were celebrating tonight, or if you were even celebrating anything at all and this was just another much needed get together after case after case.

You catch something soft in Hotch’s eyes that makes your chest pang painfully as he raises his own glass of whiskey before taking a sip. No one else has noticed, too enthralled by their own conversations, so the intimacy of the private moment doesn’t escape you, in fact making you even more anxious.

It was going to be a long night.

-

You are absolutely going to give Derek an earful on Monday morning.

It’s entirely his fault that you’re not enjoying Rossi’s party to the full extent, his words swimming in your mind.

Now, you’re psychoanalyzing and second-guessing everything Hotch does.

You had made sure to walk alongside Penelope on the way to the large round table for dinner, somewhat consciously as you continued to avoid Hotch but also because she was rambling about the show you suggested she watch. Spencer was on the other side of you, interjecting whenever he could, and you made a mental note that Hotch was still on the other side of the circle between Rossi and Tara.

So imagine your surprise when, after you tear your attention away from Spencer’s ramblings and back to Penelope, you’re met with Hotch’s pretty eyes and woodsy cologne instead.

“Oh, hi,” you say, hoping he doesn’t hear the shakiness that’s suddenly overtaken your voice as that familiar panic starts to crawl up your throat. This wasn’t going to be good.

“’Hi.” The corners of Hotch’s lips quirk up, eyes softening, and what the fuck is going on. “Can I sit next to you?”

You swear you’re going to have a heart attack. This man cannot be healthy for you. “Oh, yeah, sure.”

And then he’s pulling out your chair for you.

And it’s not anything new—he pulls your chair out for you all the time, in the conference room, in his dining table when you made not-pizza rolls, and even at restaurants the afternoons after Jack’s soccer games. You’ve never thought anything of it, but tonight, after your impeccably timed realization, your brain feels like it’s going to implode.

He’s just being a gentleman, that’s all.

“Thank you,” you manage out, heat starting to come to your face. Before Hotch, no one’s ever pulled your chair out for you. It’s nice.

Hotch doesn’t say anything, because of course not, just scoots your chair in closer to the table before he takes his seat on your right.

And he’s sitting really fucking close to you.

Have you always sat this close to each other before? You must have at least once during those late nights in his office, poring over case file after case file.

Not only could you feel the heat of his body just from sitting next to him, but his arm kept brushing up against your bare one while he ate, because of course you had to sit on the left side of a left-handed person. Every brush of the sleek fabric of his green button-up against your bare arm sent shivers down your spine despite the summer air, making you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

His hand kept brushing against yours as you ate and your eyes are drawn to how large his hands are as he handles his fork and the thickness of his forearms, having had rolled up his sleeves earlier. If you searched closely, you could find scars scattered over them through the dusting of hair, undoubtedly from his time on the job.

You don’t realize you’re staring at his Rolex and the way it glints underneath the lights, until Hotch is suddenly leaning into you. “Are you okay?”

Jesus Christ, hearing that smooth voice speaking lowly in your ear, breath warm as it fans over your cheek, causes all of the air in your lungs to escape. Has his voice always been that smooth, attractive?

When you risk a glance at him, conversations around the table slowly fading into the background, his face is merely inches from yours. His brows are pinched in concern and lips are pressed into a flat line. There’s something dancing in his eyes that you couldn’t quite put a finger on.

You clear your throat. “Sorry, I think the wine is just getting to me.”

He chuckles low underneath his breath. “Good thing I’m driving.”

And then he’s knocking the back of his hand against yours, the briefest brush of skin that causes electricity to zing up your spine, and then he’s back to listening intently to Derek and Emily’s bickering over who cheated at the last game of charades.

At this point, you think Hotch is able to read your mind. Why else would he be touching you, be sweet on you, if not to torture you?

You try to wrack your brain through these past couple of months, trying to find whether Hotch touching his hand to yours has happened before or any other sign that he actually is attracted to you. You come up short.

You chalk it up to him loosening up from his whiskey. He’s already moved onto water, because he was your ride, after all, so maybe this was a fluke. A one-off.

But it’s not a one-off. In fact, you think you’ve honestly died and gone to Heaven after suddenly tripping and breaking your head open in the entryway after Derek spoke with you. If you didn’t know any better, you would think you were actually on a date with Hotch, sans the rest of the team.

He must have noticed your distracted mood, because he’s making sure you’re included in almost every table conversation by glancing at you and giving you a smile that has started to make something flutter in your stomach. He’s participating minimally like usual, content to listen, but whenever he has a comment or thought he wants to share, he’s leaning in and sharing it with you.

He's leaning in to top of your wine, reaching over the table to get more of those green beans you like, and once even knocking his knee against yours underneath the table when you looked especially lost in thought while staring at your plate.

And then when the team has moved into the living room for charades, Emily wanting payback against Derek, it somehow gets even worse.

You’re quick enough to be the first to volunteer to not play due to there being an odd number of players, thus requiring Hotch to play. Everyone cheers teasingly, because Hotch is always quick to volunteer himself out of games, content to watch.

You blame the copious glasses of wine you’ve consumed and the decadent filling dinner, warmth thrumming through your entire body, when you poke at Hotch’s considerably firm bicep. “Show us what you got, old man.”

There are resounding oohs and aahs from the rest of the team. Something fuzzy settles in your chest when Hotch rolls his eyes good-naturedly at you and stands up from where he had sat next to you on the couch to JJ’s team.

You continue to nurse your wine, pleasantly buzzed, as you are thoroughly entertained by your team’s antics. Emily and Rossi argue at least 3 times, Penelope gets significantly close to having a private meeting with HR, and Hotch continues to stare at you.

Or at least, you think he’s staring at you. The alcohol has started making you second guess things even more than you already were. Because for some reason, despite JJ sitting on the other side of the living room and being on a team with her, he moved to sit in the empty spot next to you after the first round.  

He’s definitely participating in the game, even in second place behind Penelope and Derek, but you swear you feel his eyes on you now more than ever.

It’s distracting as you try to follow the game and guess along with everyone else. This time, the right side of him is nearly molded against your left side, pressing into you so hard that you’re starting to sweat from how much body heat he’s radiating.

When you glance at him to try and catch his eyes, he meets your gaze steadily. His hair is starting to come undone, a few strands falling against his forehead, and his dimple seems to have made a permanent appearance from how much he’s pretending not to laugh at his team’s antics.

It’s nice to see him enjoy himself—a flush rising up his neck and shoulders relaxed. Although you understand he has a certain image he maintains for his team, it’s become familiar to you.

By the time it dwindles close to midnight, there’s a chorus of yawns around the group. Penelope’s the first to call it, stumbling to grab a hold of Derek’s arm and dragging him with her out the door to drive her home, ruining your initial plans to catch a ride home with her instead of Hotch. After that, everyone starts to say their goodnights and exchanging hugs despite the chance you may get called on a case as early as tomorrow morning.

“You ready to go?” Hotch leans to whisper in your ear, his breath fanning over you again and causing heat to rise to your face.

“Absolutely,” you exhale, clutching the water bottle that Hotch retrieved for you in the middle of the game, hoping the breathiness in your voice could be blamed on how late it was.

When you get to Hotch’s car, heart full and warm after spending another wonderful evening with your makeshift family, he opens the passenger side door for you.

You think you’re going to lose your mind if he keeps this up. How are you supposed to stop having a crush on Hotch when he keeps doing things that justify that crush?

“Do you need to stop anywhere for anything? Are you hungry?”

You blame it on the wine despite the fact you’ve been drinking nothing but water for the past hour, thanks to Hotch silently getting you and only you a water. Your body and tongue feels loose, inhibitions naturally decreased, and it’s not your fault. It doesn’t matter if the soft lights of the driveway highlight the sharp angles of his face or the way his woodsy cologne has infiltrated your senses.

“Weird, you’re acting like my boyfriend or something.”

The silence that ensues is deafening. Your brain takes forever to catch up with you, but then you’re suddenly struck with humiliation and dread. You mind starts to race, as best as it could, when you realize that you may have just royally messed up the best job you’ve ever had and the best group of people you’ve ever met.

Before you can backtrack and say that you were just joking, Hotch carefully says “Do you want me to be?”

“What?” Wow, you really can’t hold your alcohol well, why did you drink so much wine?

And then Hotch is stepping closer, into your space, and you’d be worried that the rest of the team was going to see if the car door wasn’t shielding you from view from the front of the house. You get a whiff of whiskey on his breath again, but when you meet his eyes, there’s not a hint of the same full body dizziness you feel.

“Was I not being direct enough?” There’s amusement sparkling in his eyes, eyebrows raised. He looks like he’s politely trying to hide a fond smile. He’s teasing you.

This Hotch is the one you’ve grown to become familiar with over the past several months. Charming and unafraid to tease you when you’re away from prying eyes. Hotch is a private person, always has been, so it’s not a surprise that him essentially torturing you tonight was his version of being direct.

“You’ve been flirting with me?”

Hotch ducks his head bashfully to chuckle. It’s ridiculously endearing and you want to tug him closer and touch him all over. “I’ve been trying to flirt with you all month so I’m guessing I didn’t do a very good job.”

You stare at him as if he grew a second head, suddenly feeling much more sobered up than 5 minutes ago. Clarity sluggishly comes to you. The various invitations to spend the night or go out to dinner without Jack comes to mind. The touching had steadily increased, but you had assumed it was just due to Hotch getting more comfortable around you.

For a profiler, you weren’t very good at noticing what was happening right in front of you.

Hotch may be a ridiculously patient person, clearly since he’s been content to flirt with you for apparently a month while you didn’t notice, but you were not. You knew what you wanted. The wine still thrumming through your veins just gave you that little extra push.

You place your palms on his chest, relishing in the subtle firmness you can detect through his shirt, and you wonder if that’s his heart you feel thumping erratically or your own. “I promise I’m not that drunk and am fully aware of what is going on right now.”

Hotch hums and places his hands on your hips, the heat of him searing through the fabric of your dress. His eyes briefly flit to your mouth before back up at you. “I’m not sure if I believe you.”

Instead of providing a snarky response, and because you know Hotch wouldn’t make the first move since you did have some to drink, you finally lean in to close the distance between you two to kiss him.

It’s soft, chaste in a way that makes you feel pleasantly warm all over, the barest tendrils of electricity tugging at the pit of your stomach. The intensity of how much you like him, how much you adore him, nearly barrels you over, but Hotch’s grip on you tightens, steadying you. His lips only slightly move against yours, as if briefly testing the waters, but it does nothing to quell the sudden desire slowly twisting inside of you.

When he pulls back, chest only marginally heaving, you instinctively chase after him. He chuckles again, low and comforting, as his hands come up to hold you still by the shoulders. It shouldn’t feel as nice and soothing as it does. “I should take you home.”

“Are you coming with me?” You sincerely hope that Hotch doesn’t question you and your boldness tomorrow. Again, not entirely your fault.

“I’ll walk you to your door, how about that?” As if he already wasn’t going to do that.

On the drive back to your apartment, the tight ball of panic and uncertainty in your chest quickly unfurls and is replaced by affection, tenderness, and promises of the future. Hotch’s hand, large and protective, doesn’t leave your thigh the entire way home.

You make a mental note to send Derek a gift card and thank you note on Monday.

[ghostlyferrettarot]

🌷Pick a Picture:🍨⊹˚. ♡ What's coming up for you on February?🎀 ⊹˚. ♡

🎀𝗜'𝗺 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹🎀

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

🫧Join my Patreon for exclusive content!🫧

🖤If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!

🛍Masterlist🛍

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆Pile 1: Queen of Swords, 3 of Cups and 2 of Swords.

This February, everything may feel a little… random. Like you can't see clearly what's happening or what's coming next. And while it can be frustrating not to have all the answers, the Moon encourages you not to force things. Sometimes not knowing what's going on is a sign that you need to take a step back and allow yourself to feel without trying to rationalize everything.

You may be faced with situations this month that you may have been avoiding. Questions may arise about your relationships, your job, or even your current identity. And even though you may not perceive it now, it's all part of a developmental process. The confusion you're experiencing isn't harmful; on the contrary, it's like a "reminder" from the cosmos that there are elements within you that need to be heard. There will be times when you feel like the pieces are starting to fall into place, but there will also be days when you feel completely disoriented. And that's okay. You don't need to have everything figured out right away. It's a month to meditate, not to rush into solutions.

My recommendation would be not to put too much pressure on yourself. If you find yourself in a situation where things aren't clear, you shouldn't force yourself to make sure everything has immediate meaning. Keep an eye on your feelings, pay attention to the smallest details, and most of all, be kind to yourself. Clarity will come when it's needed, you just have to trust the process and yourself.

🧁Song:

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆Pile 2: The Sun, 4 of Wands and Queen of Wands.

You might feel like the pieces are starting to fall into place again this February, and that will give you a sense of clarity that you haven't experienced in a long time. You might feel more stimulated, more optimistic, or simply intent on giving your best. If there was something that was overwhelming you or that had stopped you, this is the moment when things begin to take a positive turn.

This month, you will experience thefeeling that something inside you is "waking up" in a sense. Perhaps you were already carrying some uncertainties or fears, but now it will give you the strength to face them, i heard "I'm going to put all my effort" as i was channeling your message. It is a favorable month to start a new project, undertake those dreams that you had saved or take on some circumstance that was going around in your mind. You will notice that the energy will be in your benefit. It is as if everything begins to flow without so much effort, like when you discover the right route and everything seems to be in tune.

Even if something is not exactly what you anticipated, your optimistic attitude and your clarity will help you to continue moving forward with confidence. Enjoy everything that this month brings with it. Sometimes we concentrate so much on the objectives that we forget to enjoy the trip. Take advantage of the minimal things, those that give us happiness in the simple things.

🧁Song:

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆Pile 3: 8 of Wands, The Chariot and King of Cups.

This month feels really "fast" to put it in a way, I think it will pass really quickly for you. Surprises can be a bit disconcerting at first, but in reality, they are bringing great potential. Some circumstances could change in unexpected ways, but that is just one component of the process. Don't worry if you feel that things are not progressing as you anticipated. Sometimes, the most significant transformations appear when we least expect them, and the final outcome can be much more favorable than you imagine.

This month could be a bit of a roller coaster, in the broadest sense. Some situations will evolve quickly, and you may feel like you are on a boat, but don't worry. There will be moments of uncertainty, but if you continue to evolve with the transformations, opportunities will begin to arise out of nowhere. It could be a good time to take a little more risk, as everything seems to be going in your favor.

Don't try to control everything. Life has its own rhythm, and sometimes it's best to allow yourself to be guided by the course of things. The surprises that will come this month will take you to unexpected places, and even though you can't anticipate what will happen, trust that everything has a reason to be the way it is. Let go of what you can't handle and continue to progress with the assurance that better things are yet to come <3

🧁Song:

💐Thank you for reading and tell me if it resonated💐

[paetalks]

the first time sukuna ryomen hears 212 by azealia banks it’s through the walls of his room that he shares directly with your bathroom. your voice sounds muffled over the loud bass base that is pounding a hole in his head while he’s trying to focus on his pc. he’s trying to write a paper for college and it’s almost impossible with all the noise you have been making. you weren’t a bad neighbor overall - i mean, he has never seen you in person - but the music you would blast while showering was absolutely insufferable to him. you always kept quiet, day and night, never run around or moved furniture. sukuna has been living there for well over a month and everything was going well, apart from the fact that you loved singing in the shower. it was okay the first times, really, but lately the songs kept getting louder and louder. and it was all annoying, girly club music. the one he couldn’t really stomach.

so when he hears the first notes of yet another kim petras’ song he gets up from his chair and bolts out the apartment, ringing at your doorbell. it takes a while for the volume to be turned down, and ever more for you to reach the door. when you crack it slightly open, you see a tall, tattooed, attractive, muscular man looking down at you with pure hatred in his eyes. your brain goes blank and you let the door slip from your hands, opening fully only to reveal your towel-covered body and damp hair. his eyes widen, but never leave your frame or seem to be less angry. “hi?” you say, confused.

“hi.” his voice is deep, his sentences short and cutting “would you mind turning the damn music down?”

“oh” you frown, looking at him from head to toe. you notice how he’s wearing grey sweat pants and a black sabbath’s t-shirt that looks like it has seen better days. his hair is all over the place. a smirk makes its way to your face. “yeah, i would actually mind. i was kinda in the middle of something…” you gesture back to the direction in which the music is still coming from and your towel falls slightly lower.

the stranger’s eyes follow your hands as you pull it up again, rolling them afterwards. “i’m trying to work here.” he gestures (mocking you) at his front door, right next to yours.

“okay?” you purse your lips. “i don’t think that’s any of my business really. i’m just playing some good music.”

“good?” his eyebrows furrow. “you don’t even know what good music is.”

you roll your eyes. “okay, stranger. go ahead and insult me right in my house.” you chuckle ironically, meanwhile ayesha erotica starts playing in the background. “oooh, i love this song!” you squeal, and his eyes dart quickly between the direction in which the music is coming from and your body. your frame hugged by that towel is making him rethink being mad at you.

before he can say anything else, you smile forcefully. “gotta go back in there. byeeee!” and you close the door right in front of his face.

he stands there for a while, eyes widened and twitching. how can you be so hot and yet so annoying? he starts asking himself while walking back to his room. he sits back in his chair and as soon as he decides to surrender for the day and give up on his work, the music finally stops. sighting in relief, he opens his laptop again, still thinking about you and how that little towel wasn’t even covering all that much.

you definitely will be a problem, he thinks, taking a deep breath finally in silence.

or so he thinks, because not even a second later the first notes of paranoid from black sabbath start playing at full volume on your speaker. he laughs with himself. “she’s funny” he mumbles, shaking his head, secretly hoping to bump in you again soon.

sorry guys just had a shower and thought aboyt this. also i love music bye <3 hope you get all my songs references i’m sorry

[revelboo]

Prowl no💔 you come back and get us RIGHT NOW

He thinks he’s doing right

Stand Too Close Pt 15

Prowl x Reader

• You don’t even like him, so why do you feel like crying? People are giving you a wide berth and you reach up to try to do something about your hair and realize you’re crying. Tears silently sliding over your cheeks as the anger begins to build. Because he’d thrown you away without any hesitation. Gotten tired of you and discarded you. And you know you’re lying, that you’d been growing attached to him. Starting to get to know the real him under the prickly asshole veneer. Picking your way along the street to your apartment building, you realize you have no idea what happened to your keys or any of your stuff. You’d dropped it when Prowl had hit you. And that has to have been months ago. Trying to scrub the tears away with the heel of your palm, you head toward the grubby little office for the apartment building.

• Can’t make himself leave you just yet. Had gotten halfway back to the Ark before turning around and finding a dark alley on the outskirts of your city to park. It takes him longer than he’d like to get his holoform avatar stable and solid enough to interact with humans. Walking the streets in search of you, he’s aware that the other humans shy away from him. Humans walking toward him part around him even going so far as to step into the street to avoid touching him. Like they can somehow sense he’s not one of them. That he’s other.

• Turns out when you stop paying rent for months, even if it’s because you’re missing, you still get evicted. Listening in a numb fury as the lady stinking of sweet and milds at the desk tells you about how everyone assumed you’d been murdered and your body dumped out in the desert. Almost sounding disappointed that you’re alive. Your stuff is gone, too. Apparently the police had gone through your apartment looking for signs of foul play, hadn’t found any and your landlady had dumped your stuff out in front of the building as soon as she legally could.

• Turns out that it’s hard to find one human among thousands. And he almost walks past the hunched figure sitting on a street corner. Stopping in front of you, your head lifts and the tears are like a slap. “I’m going, okay?” Watches you stand and scrub at your face. Why are you on the street? And you’re upset not happy. Why didn’t you go home? “Of course, she called the cops on me.” And he reaches to catch your wrist. If he speaks up you’ll know him, but he can’t just leave you like this. This isn’t what he wanted.

• Something about the cop makes your skin prickle and you wish he’d let go, but you don’t dare fight against his grip. “I don’t have a phone. I just need to call someone,” you add, not even knowing who to call. Your family is out on the other coast. And you’d also figured out you can’t get into your bank account without an ID, so you’re broke. Homeless and defeated. Had almost walked to your workplace, but you’re sure they’ve replaced you by now and you don’t think you can take one more hit. Because this is all just the cherry on top of the abandonment sundae Prowl had served you. And the cop is just staring down at you, expression empty. Unmoved by your grief. Sucking in a breath,you go rigid when he tugs you into his body, his other hand cupping the back of your head. And cop or no cop, you panic and knee him without thinking.

Previous

[all-pacas]

CAMERON: You were with House? When it happened? To his leg? STACY: You’re interested in him. CAMERON: We went on one date. It didn’t go very well. STACY: Our first date didn’t, either. I was never going to see him again. Week later I moved in. 5 years. What would you like to know? CAMERON: What was he like before his leg?

CAMERON: I thought you were too screwed up to love anyone. I was wrong. You just couldn’t love me. [clearly upset:] It’s okay. I’m happy for you.

cameron really isn't asking stacy what was house like before his leg, and stacy catches on and reacts appropriately, taking it as a question about dating house instead of house's mental fortitude over the years. in that light, stacy's advice is i think pretty spot on: house has always been a difficult person, their first date didn't go well, cameron shouldn't expect some drastic change.

we also see that stacy is much more frank with house, or even with cuddy, later in s2. cameron is a stranger, and a stranger with an agenda: stacy probably isn't that inclined to Get Into It with her, and cameron isn't really asking.

cameron wants to know if house was softer once. i thought you were too screwed up to love anyone, she tells him later in the episode: she came away from their date thinking house… pushed her away, is broken, is incapable of love. in a way, that's reassuring to her, right? it's not her fault the date went badly, it's not that house isn't interested in her, it's that house is too screwed up. his leg hurt him. he changed. he lost his capability for love. stacy telling her no, he was always kind of like this is telling cameron no, it was you; he hasn't really changed.

and again, i think stacy was perfectly correct to say this. we know house has changed, we're told house has changed. stacy also knows it: i think we overlook the fact that they didn't break up two days after the infarction, but tried to stick it out for weeks if not months. she had front row seats. but cameron is a stranger, and she's asking for dating advice, not a detailed history. i find it perfectly plausible that stacy also found house prickly and standoffish when they met, and is just passing that lesson along.

i've always wished that this show explored more of house in his pre-house md era because of scenes like these. on one hand, we get crumbs of how house was like from stacey's perspective...

... whereas on the other side of the spectrum, we get this from wilson:

[hitlikehammers]

strongly worded letter 💌

or: Eddie Munson’s long, weird road out of (the) hell(-side down) ☠️ and into love💗

rating: t ♥️ tags: post-S4, steve’s one-man search-and-rescue for eddie’s not-dead body, falling in love, fluff in surprising places, eddie’s chaotic internal monologue, alphabet magnets🧲 for the win ♥️

for @steddielovemonth day four: "I had not intended to love him. [...] He made me love him without looking at me." —Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte

To the external, uninitiated observer, Eddie is well aware his take on all of this will 100% appear both unhinged and as least vaguely self-destructive, bordering on suicidal.

But here’s the thing: if Eddie had been truly suicidal, the million times he could have just stood and let the mobs take him—bigots or mutant bats or a lichy-ballsac that made people float—he wouldn’t have even bothered fighting. Maybe he was questionably attached to self-preservation, but actively wanting to pack it in? Even the thought of sparing his poor uncle his bullshit—finally—hadn’t been a sweet enough deal. Nope: Eddie is selfishly attached to the whole living thing.

Which is why he is begging for it to be understood, in no uncertain terms:

He’d rather know for sure that he was dead in the endless, silent grey hellscape he’s been left in, than wandering in this half-formless, half-collapsing nothing-burger version of the town he grudgingly called home, unsure where he stands on the mortality-scale either way.

—

Here’s the deal.

Vents? Foolishly overlooked.

Epic concert? Rocked, no notes.

Bat-chow? Do no recommend.

Henderson sobbing? Recommend even less.

Being tagged as a corpse? Perfectly fine if that’s what you are; dead weight in an apocalypse simply cannot be justified.

The issue is when you’re tagged as a corpse, and you…aren’t one.

So you’re left behind.

Which brings Eddie to:

Meeting what they’ve been calling a demogorgon this whole time but that resembles no such thing, those goddamn lying liars: not fucking cool.

Having…enough demobat saliva or venom or poison or whatever, probably, where the misleading-as-fuck demogorgon sniffs at you like a dog with her puppies instead of eating you with those fucking petal teeth?

Neutral. Probably wouldn’t order it again.

Getting licked all over by said Petal Teeth, all lioness-grooming-its-young style? Disgusting.

Disgusting.

Figuring out demogorgon saliva has some kinda magical mystical healing properties and you’re basically just covered in fairly-smooth scar tissue now that looks months old rather than hours, and plus you got a bath out of it so most of the dried blood’s gone too?

Fine, okay, he’d leave a tip for service.

But now Eddie is as alive as he can think to test being—and he’s been running all the monster-category tests and he doesn’t pass for vampire, zombie, or any various other undead creatures, he’s hungry but mostly for like, Chicken McNuggets, and—

Stuck. He’s stuck here.

And he thinks they must have won, the Party that is, because nothing’s really happening except…things are falling apart, like rotting in slow motion.

Which is a concern. But. Cool, if it means they did in fact make the motherfucker pay.

But that also means nobody has any reason to be strolling back in to fight demons anymore, and come across his not-so-dead ass. Plus also, the place is probably going to keep crumbling—if a master of a realm is axed, the realm doesn’t typically survive. Mordor fell apparent when Barad-dûr came down. And he…

He did agree to go into Mordor.

Well, fuck him.

—

He mostly wanders around and pokes at random shit, collects some books, ignores the fact that the reality he’s looting is on borrowed time.

He doesn’t know if it’s healthier to deal with that part head on or keep pretending it’s not there, but he honestly could not give a fuck.

Because it’s just him. Save the demogorgon who gave him a tongue bath, he’s seen nothing living. Sometimes there’s a stray screech but it’s too distant to even guess where he’d find whatever made it, stumble upon whatever caused it. There’s not even a breeze to move the decaying trees.

There is nothing.

And it’s starting to drive him fucking insane. He might lose it before the reality caves in on him, actually, just for the sheer…void of it all.

He’s on the edge of that—losing it entirely—when he hears it, sees it.

Who the fuck took that magazine, it’s like three years old, only kept it for the tips on…

And then an echo, like a projection in the air, and it’s fleeting and its faint but where that voice what pretty unmistakable already, the coif of chestnut and the peek of a polo collar, and the seizing in Eddie pulse for both together—it’s almost more undeniable.

That’s fucking Harrington.

—

The vision is, seconds. At most.

But it shifts Eddie’s priorities entirely.

He starts the day—he’s guessing it’s the start of the day, it’s always fucking grey here but he’s just going off of when he’s hungry so—but he looks for cereal in one of these decrepit houses and eats it out of the box as he tries to get his bearings.

Tries also to remember all the weird shit the kids used to say before Eddie knew they were making any of it up.

Context clues give him that this is Hawkins. 1983 or thereabouts—makes sense for the magazine.

But what makes more sense, and is more helpful: Steve had bitched the magazine was moved.

And Eddie’s definitely the one who had it in his hand when he heard said bitching.

So there’s still some connection. Hope’s not totally lost.

Mostly, maybe. But not totally.

—

He decides to go back to Harrington’s and just wait until he goes there to sleep so he can tail him, have some sense of how he can try and make contact from his own side, let someone know he’s still here.

It takes forever; Eddie wonders just how different time runs, here, save that when he finally hears something, the vision is clearer in the air, ghostly but more complete.

And Steve looks fucking wrecked.

Like he hasn’t slept in days, like he’s about to fucking cry, like he—

He’s still the most beautiful guy Eddie’s seen in person, if this counts as in-person, but like—that was never not-true.

“Rob, I don’t know! I just, I just feel like—“

“I will handcuff you to your bed.”

Eddie tries to feel excited that whatever’s happening is strong enough that two voices come through, that Robin’s here, she’s safe too—

But he’s more invested in what’s causing the shouting.

”I know how to pick a fucking lock, Jesus,” and Eddie doesn’t not think about the lock he’s worn more than once around Steve at his belt, nope, he does not—

”The gates are closed, Steve. It’s over.”

Well. Fuck.

There goes the hope thing.

”Not all of them. Not totally.”

Or maybe not.

”Steve, I will hunt you down, I will dog your steps, I will follow you every single moment if you think I am leaving big you even consider going back to—”

“I love you, Robs, but you still can’t drive. Think you’ll beat me on your Schwinn?”

“I will slash your tires.”

“Sorry, birdie, got AAA to save me.”

And that’s all Eddie gets, but…

It almost feels like he’s got one single snowball’s chance in hell, here. Still. Just one, true, but.

If he’s learned anything the last few days, it’s that Steve Harrington’s maybe the most reliable snowball he could ask for.

His chest is all tingly about it, even—fucking traitor.

—

Eddie doesn’t even really have to follow where Steve goes next. In that he knows exactly where it is, just not why the fuck Steve wants to be there.

Especially since even the lack of evidence in ‘83’s version of the trailer still makes him look up at the ceiling and feel like he’s gonna puke.

”Oh sure Mister Munson sir, I just want to borrow your dead nephew’s cassettes, that are definitely in the trailer the fed have locked down to be sent to Area 51 or wherever, just in case he’s not entirelydead in another dimension, and he can hear me because I’m definitely not losing my fucking mind, and definitely not because being called ‘Big Boy’ didn’t fuck with my head more than mutant bats ever did…”

Steve’s frankly endearing muttering, and that last bit especially, distract Eddie enough from the fact that Steve is actively rummaging through his room.

Through his room, Jesus, Eddie moves because he even clocks that lunging at Steve here won’t do shit there to stop the questionable literature Steve’s already sifting through.

At least Steve can’t see him blush across planes of existence. Hopefully.

“Oh,” and Steve sounds shocked, but then looks…gutted?

”One more for the ‘you suck’ column,” and Eddie decides right then that he fucking does not approve of that tone, at all; ”not like I had a chance, definitely not his type…”

“But my type’s the paladin who protects everyone and needs a faithful bard to tend his wound and keep his bed!” Eddie blurts out into the nothing on his side of the divide.

“My type’s been you since fucking junior year!”

Because Junior-Eddie was admittedly much more lust-driven. Let that be said.

Now-Eddie’s equally if not more invested in the heart of a man.

And Steve Harrington, even remotely thinking that he isn’t Eddie’s type?

Maybe Eddie really is dead. And this is hell.

—

”Why do I need them?”

Eddie’s got a new box of cereal—Kix, could definitely be better—and has now trailed Steve to what looks like…the edge of town, which, who lives there…

”Nah, kid, nothing bad. Just want to see something. Promise.”

One of the kids. Maybe this is where the Byerses are, now, if they were right and they’d been on their way back? Because Eddie knows where the rest of them live, and this ain’t it.

Theresa are footsteps in one direction, and Steve wanders in the other, where Eddie sees a girl with a buzz cut he doesn’t know, but who stares Steve down in a way that…Eddie can kinda guess.

They’d all alluded to the super powered kiddo more than once.

”Can you look? Like, just to see if he’s—”

Eddie’s neck turns fast when he turns back in to the conversation, less for the words and more for how timid, how cowed Steve sounds and he…

Eddie just wants, more than anything really, to be able to reach out and touch. To comfort. To do…

Something.

”…would not feel him even if he was there. The connection is gone. The Upside Down is dead.”

And Steve deflates, and Eddie…Eddie remembers the lights didn’t they have to be emotionally unstable, kinda, to make the lights flicker, to let someone know they’re there, and Eddie’s definitely there because—

Not fucking all of it, not yet, Eddie wants to scream; or maybe yes all of it but I’m still fucking here.

Also: that man is 100% my type and I want a fucking shot, I want my snowball’s chance in hell, I want to bite him and call him sweetheart like I mean it and I want, I want, I want—

Also that.

Steve leaves with some…fucking magnets.

And the lights didn’t do jack shit.

—

Eddie spends most of that night playing with magnets.

Well, not at first.

First, he tries yelling, sobbing, focusing like a Force-user, really anything he could think of to get Steve’s lights to flicker. No such luck.

So then Eddie makes a side quest, after having dutifully made certain not to leave Steve’s side for…however many days.

He pops to Melvald’s because of anyone’s got kiddie alphabet magnets, it’s gotta be them.

And score. Definitely not the worst thing Eddie’s stolen. Plus this place is on the way out. Not really relevant, here, if he cared.

Which he fervently does not.

And proves by grabbing two fifths of tequila on the way out. Hah.

He finds Steve passed out on top of his comforter, plaid monstrosity that it is, and he tries very hard to brush his hair back—nothing.

And then Eddie…somehow that’s the straw that breaks the pack-mule’s back. Something in him just fucking snaps.

Because he distinctly remembers this whole fiasco being tied to the labs owned by the fucking Department of Energy, right?

And they can’t even keep the electrical connection between dimensions working?

That’s…that’s unacceptable.

He’s gonna…he’s gonna file a fucking complaint. He’s gonna show up at a picket line. He’s gonna write a strongly worded letter. He’s…

Actually, he’s got all night if the way Steve’s sprawled says anything for how long he’s gonna stay conked out. And he’s also got these handy alphabet magnets.

Letter it is.

—

”What the fuck?”

d3ar 3nergy d3pt he4d i ju5+ wan+ed to te11 th15 guy i w4n+ t0 b1+3 him but n00 y0u c4nt e73n d0 +h4t i h8 u

Eddie trips over some empty bottles, the answer of how they got there pounding in his head real quick—oh, hey, hangovers do transcend dimensions, seems suspicious—but yeah, okay, he does remember getting creative with the abundance of math magnets in the poorly-labeled alphabet pack last night, misleading to lead on letters by default on the packaging. He does recall being very convinced a sideways ‘7’ was a passable ‘V’. But.

He’s not looking at his side of things. He’s looking at Steve’s.

And so is Steve.

And then Steve—who Eddie wants to bite but also kiss and maybe just hold in his arms chest to chest to feel his warmth because when his control broke last night it conveniently knocked him upside the head with the clear realization of that fact that Steve Harrington?

Is doing all this shit for him. On the hope of a maybe.

And Steve Harrington had been disappointed not to have found his lookalike in Eddie’s porn rags.

And Eddie wrote a letter to the fucking DoE in magnets about it, and Steve can see it, stuck to his fridge in 1986 as clear as Eddie slapped it there in 1983.

”…Eddie?”

Steve’s voice is so small and so fearful to be wrong. His chest is heaving, he’s scared.

Eddie scrambles for the magnets left on the floor and smacks them violently to the refrigerator door in record time, prays to everything he doesn’t believe in that Steve can feel his relief spelled out in the bulky primary colors:

h3y 61g b0y v3

And goddamnit, when Steve falls to the floor with his jaw dropped loose, Eddie is 100% sold:

A ‘V’ turned on its side absolutely makes the bottom half of a heart for the three to butt-up to.

—

“Got these to play so if you were there, and couldhear me, you could find your way, if,” and Steve, Steve has been talking to Eddie since they both woke up and found those magnets, even if they haven’t been able to replicate anything, not the letter nor the faulty lighting trick Eddie’d complains about on the fridge in the first place: it could just be a fluke. Steve has no reason to believe Eddie’s alive, that Eddie did that, that Steve didn’t sleepwalk into sleep-spelling, that Eddie even alive in some form would be following his every move.

Of course he is, but. Steve can’t know.

It’s all on faith. For Eddie.

And fuck is Eddie’s heart doesn’t go playing ping pong with his ribs for how much it hits him, how wide and warm it swells in his chest like hope, only second to affection, to want, to—

“Vecna’s not gone, but he’s like, one step from it. I don’t know he can get you but,” Steve taps to the Walkman, to the headphone he gets on just one ear so he can hear and also so someone else—so Eddie—can hear Megadeath as Steve bustles around his house, packing a duffle that reminds Eddie of when they were peeping to storm the castle—

That’s what Steve’s doing. That, that’s what Steve is doing right now.

“I just,” Steve heaves a deep breath, hands on his hips before one pinches between his eyes; “I felt like you were still there, I can’t explain it,” and Eddie’s shaken to his core right now in the best possible way so when he blurts out in a croon:

“Power of loooove, Stevie!”

He can’t be blamed for that. He can’t. He’s…

This man is going down into hell, has not grantee of what Eddie knows in it being largely innocuous, now, save…undead Vecna lurking somewhere, so weak he’s not even noticed.

“But we know music works though, so.”

Steve’s still narrating his plan; Eddie is just staring. Wants to…wants so fucking bad to touch.

“We have to wait for night, for me to get down there. They’re shitty with security on the graveyard shift.” Then Steve’s smirking, and fuck, he’s so pretty.

”Plus Robin sleeps like the dead, she won’t have a chance to notice what I’m doing even on the off chance word got out.”

And the fact that Steve is willing to defy his own platonic soulmate for Eddie—barely knows him in terms of days and hours but at least, if it’s the same as Eddie’s realising more and more that he feels, and unshakable too: it’s like his soul knows Steve, and that cannot care a lick for how time runs, it’s bigger than that.

There’s too much of a sense of potential, a crackling possibility just being in his proximity, even with the distance of other goddamn dimensions—there’s too much swirling in Eddie already for it to mean nothing.

Plus, like: flip the script. Steve is risking everything on a whim, for him.

It cannot be nothing.

“I’m hoping you’re where we left you, which,” and Steve’s voice catches, he pauses, looks around like he’s hoping Eddie might pop into the visible spectrum, so he can see and know, but then he just looks up at the ceiling like—oh, fuck, like it’ll make sure no tears fall out and:

“I can’t fucking tell you how sorry—“ Steve starts to say be Eddie can’t bear watching like this, strides over in an instant and grabs Steve’s hand.

And Steve stills.

And Eddie can feel his pulse in his wrist.

“Is that you?” Steve barely breathes, stares now at his arm where…Eddie can only see the kind of glimmering overlap that means two things are happening in the same place on different planes, he’s grown used to that. But.

If Steve can feel him, if there are moments here that are probably limited where Eddie can prove some little tiny bit that he’s here and he’s listen and he’s with Steve—

He pulls Steve’s hand and drags him into the kind of full body hug he’s been aching for for…fuck.

Too fucking long.

“Eddie,” Steve sighs out, and Eddie can’t help himself. He runs hands through Steve’s hair, and holy fuck: Steve leans in.

Steve feels it enough to lean in.

“It feels like I’ve been falling for a ghost, man.”

Steve says it on a whisper, like he’s still not sold entirely, or else maybe afraid to break a spell. Eddie gets that second part.

“But I guess it kinda started before that, so maybe it’s not as fucking crazy,” Steve laughs a little wet with it and…Eddie has to, because what if he never gets another chance, and hell—if he does, how can he deprive them both the chance to know whatever the sensation will be, like this?

Eddie’s not up to risk never knowing what a cross-dimensional lip lock feels like, okay?

So he doesn’t.

“Please don’t be a ghost,” Steve breathes out and fuck, Eddie can’t taste it but he can feel the way the air moves and it’s, it is; ”I think if you are, I’ll live the rest of my life trying to make it work anyway, I,” and Steve doesn’t get to finish because Eddie pushes in again, and Steve’s as good as his reputation and then some, on wholly separate planes of being.

Eddie cannot fucking wait to feel it flesh to flesh.

“I fall fast, man, but this is kinda insane,” Steve pants, arms out awkward with any indication where to hold. He’s adorable.

He’s delectable.

“But you did say you wanted to bite me, assuming you were talking about me,” Steve smirks but then his eyes go wide:

“Oh, shit, are you a vampire?”

And Eddie has no idea how long he’s been down here alone, surrounding by the silence and the darkness and just the projection level overlay of Steve when he’s lucky, but Jesus H. Christ—

“Is that you laughing?” Steve chokes on his own kinda-giggle as he braces against an unseen and unseeable force barrelling into him: of course it’s Eddie.

Of course he’s fucking cackling.

Because however long it’s been, he definitely hasn’t laughed at any point at all in that span of time—and fuck if he didn’t need it.

—

Steve slips down the last burbling gate not without effort, not without lava-hot road rash no doubt fucking with his already not-yet-healed stomach.

When he’s tackled, thrown straight to the ground, weight pinning him to the ground that’s more dry, more deadened than Steve remembers from just days ago: when his back hits the ground—none of it matters.

“It was me laughing.”

And then Eddie’s mouth is on his—it’s the echo he was afraid he’d imagined that morning, just like the hand on his wrist, just like the laughter wrapped around him.

“You’re an even better kisser in person, holy shit, even your fucking glowing reputation shortchanged you.”

And Steve’s kinda breathless, not just for getting smooshed to the dirt; but then Eddie’s kissing him again, and breathing seems really kind low on Steve’s list of giving a shit.

“You are so my type it’s not even funny,” Eddie says, before diving back into kiss with a bruising kind of force, an unmistakable kind of intent; “I think my type has fully migrated to include kinda just you.”

And Steve’s heartbeat kinda stutters at that because…that’s new.

No one’s ever…well.

It’s just new.

“You weren’t wrong to leave me behind, you don’t ever have to apologize,” and then he’s kissing along Steve’s jaw, and it’s Steve’s laughter now, the tickle of dirty curls dragging at his stubble; “you got out, you’re safe, you’re here,” and Eddie sounds almost overcome with feeling, with relief, and then in the end, bubbling with joy. And somehow Steve can tell it’s not because Steve’s here to save him, bring him home.

It’s just because Steve’s here and that, that is—

Steve’s heartbeat’s just gonna do that tripping thing for the foreseeable future he thinks, at this point. Probably.

“I was trying to convince myself otherwise, because I didn’t think there could ever be a shot in hell but I was falling before it all fell apart, too,” Eddie says in a rush, leaning again to kiss the corners of Steve’s lips, like talking is just an inconvenient interruption to better ways of using his mouth and given how goddamn much Eddie Munson’s always talked, that fucking says something:

“And ever since, it’s felt like I was falling in love through a movie screen,” and he cups Steve’s face to angle it just so as he breathes, those eyes endless and glistening; “could see but never reach, until,” and then he’s kissing him straight on the lips again, a full-frontal assault, tongue seeking teeth, looking for the depths of his goddamn soul of something.

Steve isn’t even embarrassed for how he arches up, how he fucking moans. No one could ever feel this and do anything less.

Like: fucking impossible.

“I liked your letter to the editor,” Steve gasps when Eddie breaks apart and concedes to needing air, presses kisses up and down Steve’s throat while he regroups.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie’s face pops back up—dirt smears and ruddy and in need of a shower but on the whole in way better shape than Steve last remembers having to walk away from, and fuck, fuck—he’s never walking away from it again; “can we send that to the Post? No edits, I want my numbers intact, let them try to figure it out like Zodiac.”

Steve snorts, because god he really is half in love with this nerd, and he’s not a ghost, he’s sold and his chest is heaving into Steve’s and he’s grinning wills and he’s here and they’re here and this is realand—

He yells when the sting clamps through his much-less-extensive uniform of his Members Only jacket despite the weather—it’s freezing, but like, the gates were just cracks, he had to move like a ninja!

Just not a bite-proof ninja, apparently.

“You know, I should have expected that,” Steve deadpans, but his smile gives him away as Eddie pulls his mouth back from the stretch of Steve’s neck that runs to his shoulder, where honestly Steve thinks Eddie punctured the coat in the process. Fucking feral gremlin.

Steve really wants to keep him. Like, indefinitely.

“You really, really should have,” Eddie agrees, beaming like the sun when there’s only dark around them, making it all feel so warm in the chill.

“Honestly should have expect nothing less,” Eddie’s smile curls a little dangerous as he leans in again, apparently satisfied with having caught his breath enough as he mouths wet against Steve’s lips:

“Big boy.”

And then, again: he pounces.

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here

[covenofagatha]

ok after the FFF post i think we now need your thought on reader teasing agatha during no nut november.

maybe first they make a bet about whether agatha can even make it through no nut november, and of course agatha is like what do u mean i can’t do it? and so she takes on the challenge.

you then start waking agatha up to the sounds of you fucking yourself with a dildo or smth and she already wants to quit.

you then proceed to tease her nonstop every day, and of course it’s harder for agatha because november has a few more days than february

- 🥕

Well it is only fair that reader gets a little payback for all of Agatha's teasing

You've been waiting ever since finger free February for this and you've been planning

It's a few days before November starts and you casually bring it up to Agatha over dinner. She scoffs it off at first, but then you appeal to her competitive nature: "Oh come on, mommy, you don't think you can last? I did. Guess you can't, though. Such a shame. You're just too desperate for me, aren't you? Can't control yourself at all?"

She takes the bait immediately and is outraged that you would even imply that she wouldn't be able to, and accepts

You two have the most sex you've ever had in the next few days, courtesy of Agatha trying to get out as many orgasms as she can

The first few days of November pass and you're her perfect baby, only making a few dirty remarks here and there and only attempting to brush her cock through her pants a few times

Agatha gets lulled into a false sense of security and thinks that maybe it won't be that hard (pun intended) after all

Until the next morning when she wakes up to hear wet squelching sounds and rolls over to find you with a dildo buried up to the hilt in your cunt, panting

But not just any dildo, no, the one you made with the penis molding kit that is an exact silicone replica of her cock (purposefully for this month - but she doesn't need to know)

So not only is she watching you fuck yourself with it, but she also now has the memory of you on your knees in the shower in front of her, blowing her to a full erection, and then stroking the molding powder over her cock to make the toy

"Fuck, mommy, your cock feels so good inside me," you moan, pumping it fast inside you, and Agatha is instantly hard as a rock, the few days without an orgasm finally catching up to her. She starts to hump the air and wonders how embarrassing it would be if she didn't even make it a week into it

She barely avoids cumming untouched when you orgasm all over the toy

Thus begins you starting to tease her for real

You've never been a big banana fan, but you certainly are now and you make eye contact with her every morning as you slide as much of it as you can take down your throat before gagging (which only makes her harder)

You give her your best "fuck me" eyes every night as you hold a vibrator to your clit, hips bucking, while you beg for her to put her cock inside you. "It's okay, mommy, you can just stop before you cum and it won't count," you tell her, but you both know that the second she gets inside you, she'll blow her load instantly

When she sits at her desk doing work, you saunter over in nothing but lingerie and straddle her lap, claiming you just want to be close to her, but that doesn't stop you from grinding on her rock hard cock through her pants while she grits her teeth and turns red as a tomato

It gets to the point that she's pretty sure if you were to touch her cock with your bare skin, she would fail

"Only four days left," you say cheerily and she grumbles something incoherently. She's been irritated and a little quick-tempered and you love it.

"It's not fair," she says. "November is two days longer than February."

You mockingly pout and suck on a lollipop. "Oh, poor mommy. But just think, on December first, you can fuck me again. God, I can't wait to have your cock inside me. I love when you twitch and pulse and throb and then fill me up with your cum and leaks out of me."

Agatha has to leave the room with a whimper because she's so painfully hard and doesn't trust herself to look at you without cumming right now

That night, you're laying next to her in bed, idly playing with your clit and sliding your fingers into your cunt every now and then. Agatha is making a pointed effort not to look, but you can see how tense she is. It comes to a breaking point when you push your wet fingers into her mouth and she groans before getting up, positioning herself between your legs, and hauling your cunt into her mouth

It's the first time she's touched you since October and you can't help yourself from making louder noises than you're used to because of how good it feels and you're so lost in pleasure that you don't even notice how she's started to grind against the bed

You're so close to an orgasm when she suddenly freezes and pulls back with a strangled sound. Her eyes are wide with panic, face red, and you can see her hips rutting

"Fuck fuck fuck," she chants and a thrill runs through you before her head drops down to rest against your stomach with a groan

When she flops over onto her back, you can see a wet stain on the front of her boxers and you laugh

"Guess since you lost, you can just go ahead and fuck me now," you sigh. "No point in waiting a few more days."

Agatha can't even be mad about it because at least her torture is over

You never fail to remind her that you made it longer than she did

[corviiids]

sparknotes for "fix your eyes" the 2/2 akeshu fic

as always dont read this if you havent read the fic it wont make any sense, also p5r spoilers obviously but i think the boat's sailed on that one. happy 2/2, the holiday where goro akechi dies and i celebrate by killing ren. fuck yeah.

i guess the overarching question in this fic is whether ren is real, or, like to what degree he is real? to an extent i want to leave it up to interpretation, but it's not nearly as ambiguous as i left it in my death note fic telltale. you can have your own take on this but fwiw my take is that ren is as real as goro is in canon third sem, which is to say he's real. he's behaving as himself. maruki isn't influencing his behaviour. (at least that's my intention.)

the main mirror to canon w this au is like... okay so in canon, akechi sacrifices himself for the thieves and then is brought back, and ren's big challenge is whether he can stand to lose akechi a second time. it's worse for ren because ren is the Hero, you know? so not only is akechi someone he failed to save, akechi is someone who gave himself up specifically so REN could live, something that ren (who likes to sacrifice himself for others) really struggles to live with. the idea of allowing akechi to sacrifice himself therefore becomes a huge problem for him.

in THIS fic though, akechi killed ren himself. so it's a different question. the actual choice is not between killing ren vs keeping him alive--it's that in november, akechi made the wrong choice. he did something he regrets. so now the onus is back on him, again, to choose again, and figure out which choice is right. killing ren was obviously the wrong thing to do by ren. now, although ren doesn't offer a view one way or the other, the implication is that ren does not want this reality, given ren was fighting maruki all month knowing he was dead. so the right thing to do arguably is to allow ren to die again, even though his death was a wrong that occurred already. this is the more painful choice for akechi to make because it's something he actively wishes didn't happen, but it would be the right thing by ren--so akechi's challenge is whether he can make the selfless choice this time having done wrong before.

that's why akechi in canon and ren in this fic react so differently. akechi has been robbed of his agency all his life, so he impresses his wishes very forcefully on ren: he refuses to live like this, so he insists that ren choose to let him die. whereas ren in this fic was robbed of his life by akechi choosing his fate for him. he knows akechi is now struggling with regretting his decision, so telling akechi to choose one way or the other would actually be more merciful. telling akechi to let him die would make it easier for akechi to do it, and ren refuses to take the burden off him. ren's saying, you chose for me last time and you chose wrong, so now im forcing you to choose again. and this time get it right.

i had a really fun time with akechi's voice in this fic because he's so unstable and just really irritable. he is not having a good time, and he's really unreliable as a result. i think he's really been at sea since he killed ren. sometimes you get everything you always wanted and it just fucking sucks. the whole time he's struggling with how much he wishes he'd failed. he wants ren back, doesn't deserve to have him back, want to spend time with him now that he is back and is also struggling with guilt and bemusement that ren is spending time with him at all. he manifests all of this as irritability because he's just not good at regulating himself.

one of the big things also is that akechi's internal narration calls ren 'amamiya' for almost the entire fic, because they just never got that close. more precisely, akechi doesn't feel he's able to consider ren that closely.

ren's behaviour in the fic is pretty inscrutable. like, it really doesn't make sense for ren to want akechi at all. i guess im making kind of a meta point with this more than i am making any point about ren's internal world. the point is mostly just to emphasise how little goro understands what's going on with ren here. this is a very unreliable narrator fic, something goro comments on himself.

(btw, the joke here is that latin is a dead language........ lmao)

shows thru in parts like this also, where goro kind of technically has a point and yet if this is the entirety of your worldview it's not only jaded it's also just kind of... incomplete. like, it's not wrong? ren's confidants are all like this, basically. and goro does then go on to say that though relationships START like this, they can't stay that way. but more than that, it shows how brittle goro's perspective is on social relationships. his distortions are pretty clear.

he also has this repeated refrain of nihilism the further it goes along lol

there are also a lot of these moments where ren clearly indicates he knows something is up, but akechi just misses them because he's so wrapped up in his own shit.

oh also backtracking a bit

the idea here being that kind of like how akechi will wait in kichijoji in third sem, ren's kind of become the kichijoji confidant and akechi's become the protagonist.

btw initially i had planned to write a more closed ending, or potentially a CYOA style double ending depending on which choice akechi makes? but ultimately i decided to leave it ambiguous.

i feel like there is definitely other stuff i wanted to say but i forgot it so i guess ill just add onto this post later if i think of it. anyway! thanks for reading! happy 2/2! <3

[acexsmhking]

hey back at it again with a "we listen and we don't judge"

Obsessive Toby x Fem!reader But like He was sent to kill someone at a university and decided to just blend in with the school BECAUSE AND ONLY BECAUSE one of the students caught his Eye

she takes him in, introduces him to her friends, bro because basically dependent and doting on her bc not many ppl will just look past his "Flaws"... Then finds out she has a boyfriend, but that just won't do foe Toby

SORRY IF IT'S ULTRA SPECIFIC AND YOU CAN GO AHEAD AND CHANGE WHATEVER YOU LIKE OFC!!!

𝐄𝐟𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

(𝗻.) 𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘂𝘁𝘆

: ̗̀➛ Toby x FEM!Reader

Summary: University life can be hard; stress, exams, homesickness. So of course, as a good person you didn’t hesitate to befriend a ‘shaken’ schoolmate after a traumatic murder happened. Who knew that your trusted companion was quite the gifted actor?

note: omg whoa! You had me actually biting my phone with this request. Istg I love this. Also sorry I went crazy on this. If you wanna skip the plot I put a halfway marker lol!

Warning(s): 18+ content, AFAB!Reader, p n v! Sex, slight coercion, oral sex (F & M receiving), cheating, long plot, affair plot, stalker behavior, descriptions of gore, descriptions of murder, mentions of blood, unhealthy co-dependency, slight emotional manipulation, lots of drool, biting, cum-play, breath-play.

The beginning of mid-term had started off.. rough. One of the students, Cole, had been murdered. To say it shook the school was an understatement. The scene had been fully public, with a huge fire burning the corpse and a large proportion of the surrounding area. Multiple other students had been injured, with an additional three losing their lives. The whole school was somber, close friends and even family of the victims seemed completely lifeless. Barely responding or talking to anybody but themselves and each other. Thankfully, the professors had been merciful with dealing out schoolwork. And the Dean had began some light construction around the school for added security and protection.

About two months after the incident, a new student had been introduced to your friend group. A mutual friend of a mutual was all you thought of him at first. But after chatting you and Toby quickly formed a connection, he was so much like you! Same hobbies, likes, dislikes. The bond was immediate and close, and soon enough you welcomed Toby into your closer, inner friend circle. You were accommodating and quick to meet Toby’s needs. Both emotionally and mentally. He had confided in you about a plethora of problems he had, along with how vulnerable he was to bullying.

You were, in your sweet nature, quick to sympathize with him. Offering a shoulder to lean on and a shield from the meaner kids. While bullying didn’t happen too often in university, mostly because of how it drained the souls from people. But you still stayed by Toby’s side. You were inseparable. Toby followed you everywhere. Classes, hang-outs, parties, and shopping. Toby had a small speculation where you lived, but he was unable to find out yet. After.. he had his fun earlier. He saw you in the crowd. You were.. beautiful.

He latched onto you quickly to say it mildly. How could he refute you! He didn’t even know he had an ideal type since he saw you, no no, you were his ideal type. You were his only type. His. Befriending you was simple, you were so sweet and pathetic. The cutest lamm he’d ever saw. And he’s met a lot of people.. well, killed a lot. He was beginning to like this university. Besides the downfall of socializing it had delicious food, and of course, you. You understood him, never even judged him when you told about his problems. The voices, the visions, his tourette’s, hell you didn’t even mind the drool escaping the gnarly hole on his face.

Okay, sure he knew no one bullied him anymore. But he was sure people had! So it was valid.

In the eyes of innocents, Toby was weak. A riddled dog. A sick man. But you reassured him, took care of him. He didn’t even realize how many things he didn’t like eating til you asked him. You’d bring him delicious foods for lunch, breakfast, hell even dinner. About five months had passed since the incident. You and Toby still as close as thieves. You hated to admit it. But Toby was.. cute. No, scratch that, Toby was downright sinful. You realized your tiny ‘passing’ crush on him was growing more and more. You felt awful. Awful how when you smiled it was mostly at him. Laughing was with him, eating, hanging out.

Toby immediately noticed you becoming distant. It felt awful. He tried to remember what Tim told him. ‘Sometimes people just need space for various reasons. Remember to be empathetic and open-minded.’ And he tried! Really tried. He just couldn’t handle it. How you started ignoring his message for longer, side-stepped him for others, or would just bolt the other direction if you saw him. His heart was twisting. He hated it. Hated this feeling. He needed you. You were the only one who understood him, who took care of him. He loved you! Couldn’t you see that? Why were you pushing him away. You both were perfect together.

It was cold today, however even Toby could feel it. Or maybe it was just how rejection felt as he watched you laughing at another friends joke. His eye twitched, knuckles cracking. He wanted to strangle them. No he had to, all of them. Then you’d remember him again, right? Yeah, you probably just felt bad for neglecting all of them. Sein süßes Lamm, such a giver. If they disappeared you’d only have him again. You’d pay attention to him again.

You shivered, it was ass freezing cold. You could feel the biting of winter through your pants. You glanced at Toby, looking him over. He was dressed fairly appropriate, you had managed to beat in a good habit of him dressing well for the weather even if he couldn’t feel it. But you worried. What if he forgot to heat his blanket up, his pajamas? No no, stop it. You can’t fret over him so much. You had to put distance. But it was hard looking at him. He was silent. Hadn’t even made a sound besides popping and cracks. You worried, he was never this verbally silent.

Your heart squeezed. He looked so.. sad, so incredibly depressed. You hadn’t even noticed that look in his eyes, not like you could see them very well. You weren’t standing even nearly as close to him like you would before. If others in the group noticed, they didn’t mention it. The only one you were positive that noticed anything was your best friend. They were your most trusted confidant and you had confided to them about everything. They glanced between you and Toby, offering you a sympathetic smile.

“You okay, Toby? You been oddly silent, hun.” They asked, Toby flinched at the nickname. It was grating. You should be checking on him. Not this idiot. You. He nodded, neck popping as he shuffled his feet. Calm down Toby, she’ll come back soon don’t be rash. He tried reasoning with himself. It was a very, very losing battle. He hadn’t even noticed someone else walking up behind you, not til their arms wrapped around your waist and twirled you around. Toby’s jaw clenched, he could nothing but ringing and grinding of his teeth as he watched.

Why the fuck were the others happy? Why weren’t you pushing them away? Who are they? Who, who, who. You had been completely jolted when Ethan had picked you up. You hadn’t seen him in months! “You miss me, baby?” He smiled, eyes flickering between you and your lips as he held you. You nodded, lip between your teeth as you forced a smile. Arms wrapped around his neck as you kissed him. Was it mean to admit you hadn’t? Not as much, you have Toby. Had.. god why was this hard. Why did you even like him? You had Ethan. Ethan. Not Toby.

Close friends hugged Ethan, saying their hi’s. New friends introducing themselves, everyone expect.. Toby. His fingers were locked, eyes glued to his feet. Your heart sank.. you hadn’t even told him. It’s okay, you tried to reassure. You didn’t tell many people, you liked keeping personal information to yourself and close ones. But Toby was close.. right? He felt like your twin.. that’s what you two always said. No.. you were wrong not to tell him.

“Who are you?” Ethan smiled, cocking his head at Toby. This time, Toby looked up. You shivered at that look in his eyes, they seemed so dead, hallow almost. More than usual. You quickly stepped towards Toby, arm around his side and smiled apologetically at Ethan. “This is Toby, my best friend.” Toby leaned further into you, appearing to shy away from Ethan. Ethan, who just arched a brow gaze flickering between you both. You patted Toby’s back, “He’s very shy, give him a while to warm up to you, babe.” You smiled, hand lingering on Toby just a bit as you peaked on him.

Toby was.. he was as thrilled as he could be. You were touching him!! Touching him after weeks at that, even defended him. That small feeling of victory was quickly squashed when you returned to his arms. Was this what the saying ‘blood boiling’ meant? Because he was feeling it. Probably the worst way possible. He hated how much everyone liked him, how much they teased you both as the afternoon went on. He hated how this nuisance kept trying to talk to him, ‘get to know’ him. All this pest needed to know was go wonder off and die.

‘He has to kill him.’ Toby nodded to himself, yeah if he does, you’ll come back to him. You’ll be back in his arms, laughing at his jokes. Ethan had offered everyone drinks at some bar. Toby shivered, but this was his chance. He couldn’t leave you alone with him. “Toby are you sure you want to come?” You chewed your lips, shifting on your feet. “I don’t want the smell bothering you.” A mumble was all it was. You knew now, most certainly, you had no right to fret over him. Toby just shrugged, pulling his jacket tighter around him as he held your hand.

His smile made your stomach warm, butterflies fluttering. Gods he was pretty. “I’ll be okay-y with you there.” His voice was gentle, thumb rubbing your knuckles. Why were you blushing, what was wrong with you. You nodded hastily almost stumbling away from him to return to the group. Composing yourself as Ethan wrapped his arms around you. Thankfully, the bar seemed to be in a slow night, or maybe just a slow hour, but either way you were grateful. You checked in on Toby every once in a while. A few others doing so as well.

“You’re doing really well, Toby!” Rebecca comforted, playfully punching his shoulder. Toby just smiled, seeming polite, Ethan turned towards him. “Don’t like crowded places?” He asked, a smirk on his lips. Toby shrugged, “Don’t-t like al-alcohol.” He mumbled, eyes meeting Ethan’s in a cold stare. Ethan just nodded, arm on your shoulder tightening. You felt.. stuffy. Usually Ethan’s arms made you feel safe.. so safe. But with Toby here.. you felt dirty. Or maybe cause Ethan was here? No, what did you need to feel guilty about. Your feelings were your own and you never acted on them!

You loved Ethan.

Yeah, you shook your head you loved Ethan. You tried leaning back into him further. But it still didn’t feel right. His scent was weird, it was strong, too strong. The waitress brought a third round of drinks, Toby just asked for more water. Wow, two cups of water. Tim would be proud. Liam, one of the guys, was telling a funny story when a crush interrupted him. Followed by Toby cursing. “Fuh-fuck sorry!” He mumbled, handing Hannah a napkin. He had been doing good almost all damn day about that. Hannah just smiled waving him off. “You’re good! Not your fault.” She said, patting herself down.

There was a nasty ball in your stomach as you watched. You hated how he touched her, fretted over her. Why were you like this? “The hell happened?” Ethan laughed, leaning over a bit. “Sor-rey, just..” Ethan interrupted him, mockingly. “You really are jittery. What some stutter freak?” Your mouth gaped, everyone’s did. You shoved Ethan away, “What the actual hell is wrong with you?” You pushed him again, out of the booth as you shoved your finger against his chest. “What gives you the right to say that?” You shrieked, brows furrowed and shoulders pinned.

Everyone stopped watching you two. Toby was bristling. He didn’t really care, sure he wasn’t actually gonna let that slide but, watching you defend him? His pants were a hell of a lot tighter. That’s right, Ethan had no place in your heart compared to him. “What it was just a joke! ‘M sure he’d gone through worst.” Ethan scoffed, arms crossing as he looked back at Toby. “Right? You don’t care, man.” Toby got out the booth, cold fingers wrapping around your shoulder gently. “It’s-It’s alright, ‘m just gonna head-d out okay?” He smiled, patting your shoulders as he moved past you both.

Your shoulders sank, you didn’t know what to do. Ethan had never said something like that before, not in front of you. How could you let Toby down like this? “Toby! Wait!” You called after him, pushing past Ethan who called after you. You caught with Toby down the street, hand wrapping around his arm. “I’m so sorry about that, I swear if I knew he was like that.. he.. I don’t even know.” You mumbled, hugging him as he faced you. Toby just laughed softly, arms wrapping around you as he patted your back.

Your face nuzzled into his chest, unwilling to admit to it as you took a breath of his scent in. Woody and spice. It didn’t have that artificial scent, it was like he really was rolling around in pinecones and wood earlier. “It’s ok-ay, pretty! Ain’t got-s to be so upset.” He teased, arms squeezing you. You huffed, linking your arms with him as you both continued down to the university. “I really am sorry. I don’t know what the fuck was wrong with him.” You grunted, your feathers were truly ruffled right now! Toby was so sweet, how could your loving Ethan be so cruel to him!

“W-wah-anna spend the night over with me?” He smiled at you sympathetically, sure it hadn’t been the first time since you and Toby had a sleep over. Typically watching nostalgic movies and geeking out. “Umm…” You glanced back, yeah you were mad at Ethan but.. should you really sleep over somewhere else? Oh but those damn puppy dog eyes! Toby’s eyes were just too cute..

Toby’s place was actually a very good distance away from the university. Tucked in between the dense forests surrounding the area. “Gosh, I still can’t believe you make that drive to university everyday.” You snorted, making sure to politely take your shoes off at the front door. “Seeing you-you makes it a little more worth it.” He boyishly grinned at you, flopping down on his old sofa. You flushed sitting down next to him. Feet tucked under you as you sighed. Toby tilted his head at you, you looked far too cute. Curled in so cutely, clothes hugging you just right.

How long had it been since you’ve been here? Far too long, he missed you. Missed watching you, being able to feel you. Really feel you, as you slept. He hadn’t been able to cum properly the past couple weeks. He needed your skin, your smell. You spoiled him far too much. You two just stared at the other for a while. Basking in the silence as you both admired the other. “I missed you..” He mumbled, an arm reaching out for you, he didn’t immediately pull you in. But you hesitated, shifting in your seat.

“Toby we shouldn’t..” You tried reasoning, convincing. Who? You don’t know. Him? Yourself? Sure, Ethan had been a major jerk but you shouldn’t.. indulge Toby like that, not anymore. Toby’s jaw clenched, he grabbed you faster than you could process. He pinned you to the couch, some his drool leaking onto the spot near your head. Some on your face. You gasped, wiggling a bit under him to release your legs. Caught between the crossfire. “Toby!” You yelped, struggling against him as he pinned your wrists. “Wh-hy do you insist on acting-acting like he matters.” His voice was a rumble, grip bruising as you whimpered.

“Toby! Hurts..” You whimpered, he seemed guilty but didn’t let up on you. “You know-w you should be-should be with me, Lamm.” He intertwined your fingers, leaning close to you. “You said-aid we were perfect!” He growled, you shook your head, squeezing your legs together. You were so desperate to deny him. Anything to cling onto your morals and rules, you had to resist him. “Du süßer Idi-iot. Mach dir keine Sor-gen, ich werde mich um ihn kümmern, Lamm.” He mumbled, releasing you and pushing off.

You held a hand over your heart watching him. He looked.. predatory as he relaxed back onto the couch. After a few seconds he patted his lap, a sweet smile reappearing on his lips. “Come here.” He asked, you hesitatanly obeyed, straddling his waist. His hands rubbed your hips, that sweet smile turning into something sinister. “See? Is it so har-r-d to just be good for me.” He hummed, fingers teasing the hem of your pants, toying with the buttons and zipper. You shifted, the air felt heavy and oppressing. You hated how much his words affected you, how you liked this side of him.

Your fingers tighten their grip on his shirt, hands pressing down on his chest as he undid your pants. He sucked on a breath as his fingers trailed up your side, you were so soft. Your meat.. skin.. flesh.. gods whatever. It made his mouth water. He’d take care of that little Ethan, silent and properly. Quick and clean. You’d never worry about that scum again, you’d be more willing to crawl into his arms.

You felt light-headed as Toby’s hands roamed your skin. His nails racking along your back in a playful gesture, a zap shooting down your spine. Toby leaned up, quickly catching your lips. Thankfully, this time you didn’t try fighting him off. No, in fact you leaned against him, arms wrapping around his neck as you laid your weight on him. Your core was aching, heart fluttering. His lips felt better than you imagined. Shivering as his cold hands ran up and down your back, one hand resting firmly against your nape.

You had not a single thought on you as things grew more headed. All warnings you flung out the window as he undressed you both, you didn’t even care. Didn’t know why you should. This felt right, felt perfect. He was perfect. Perfect as he marked your neck. Perfect as he kissed down your chest, and perfect when the only thing remaining was both your underwear. Feeling the hard press of his cock against your navel.

“Willing to-do something for me, precious?” He teased, his nose rubbing against yours. You nodded, smiling up at him. He gave you one more peak before kneeling down, his fingers hooked on your panties. Slowly he slid them down, smirking at the tiny wet mark on them. Fuck, you smelt heavenly. She smelt heavenly. Like she was calling to him, beckoning him. You giggled as Toby pressed a few, fluttery kisses to your abdomen, just below your belly button. Your fingers playing with unruly curls of his hair.

Toby pressed a big, wet kiss to the front of your cunt. Slowly trailing them across and on your hips before focusing back on her. Your scent was making him dizzy, he could feel himself throbbing. Gently, he pressed his tongue against you, digging the tip just a bit past your lips. You bite your lip at the sound of the moan he released, watching his eyes roll back. “Fuck..” He mumbled, both his thumbs spreading your lips just so slightly. A cute view of your clit making him smile as he looked up at you. Another long, soft drag of his tongue this time making you jolt.

He let out a breathy chuckle before standing back up, pulling you along with him on the coach. “Wanna try some-thing with you-u.” He smirked, quickly taking his boxers off before he helped you onto him. “Umm.. Toby are you sure about this?” You shifted, hands on his thighs and eyes glued to his cock. It was.. massive. Huge. No, almighty. How do you even describe this. It was not unreasonable by any means, nor look grotesque. But it was certainly the largest you’ve ever taken, not to mention the thickest.

Toby had a wolfish grin as the glanced past your ass at you, adjusting his hips a bit more. See, you were laying on Toby, ass in his face. Definitely the most interesting sixty-nine you’ve ever been in. You pulled up a bit more, one hand gripping his length. “Oh, I’m-m definitely sure, Liebe.” He cackled, you had no time for a bratty retort before you felt his tongue. Your head sagged, your hips pushing against him. You tried to focus on his cock, giving him slow and long stripes up to his tip.

Fuck, but he felt so good. Toby ate you out like a feast, nose buried in you as his lips suckled on you. His arms were wrapped tight around your hips, keeping you pressed firmly against him. His lips parted from your briefly as looked towards you, jolting his hips at you. “Beeil dich, La-mm. Sonst hö-r-re ich auf.” He seethed, eyes narrowing at the back of your head. You didn’t need to understand him to understand his tone.

Toby was merciless on you. You both had to of spend an hour like that, he was completely enveloped by you. He loved every little sound you made, feeling the vibration of your moans against his cock. Toby’s cum painted your face as you lazily pumped his cock. “Toby! Please, no more, Love.” You shook your head, pleading with him. Trying to pull away. Toby didn’t fight you this time, letting you crawl off him. He licked his lips, eyes glued to your lower half.

You were a temptress he was sure of it. Your thighs were shaking, eyes teary as you looked at him. Toby walked to the edge of your side the couch, hand shooting down to grab a handful of your hair pulling your face to him. “Little more, Lamm? You skim-mh-ped out on me.” He wheezed, voice raspy as he shoved your face closer. You whined, face still covered in his two previous loads as you took his tip in. Suckling on it as you learned he liked. He sighed, rolling his head back, eyes rolling back.

Your thighs clenched around his arm as his free hand moved to your dripping cunt. Fingers gently just rubbing her and playing with the sticky remnants of your own cum. Your arm wrapped around his hips as the other pumped his cock. You bent down, taking a ball into your mouth. You suckled firmly but not too hard. Toby was losing it, you looked so fucking precious sucking him off. Eyes lidded, face covered in him as you licked and toyed with his balls. “Ju-ust like that, baby.” He sighed, gathering more of your hair out of your face.

You both paused momentarily as a certain ringtone’s muffled tone sang in the room. Your mouth leaving Toby with a pop as you looked to your purse, that you had haphazardly thrown by couch side.

“Toby! Move!” You gasped, pressing against his chest. That look in his eyes.. your cunt fluttered. Thankfully, he let you go, relaxing in your earlier spot as he watched you. You nervously answered the phone, moving further away from Toby. “Where the hell did you go?” Ethan seethed, suddenly the remind of you and Toby’s spends littering your body made you freeze up. “I just.. went to another friend’s place. I’m sorry I swore I thought I turned my location on..” You mumbled, trying your best to sound tired. Had you always been this much of a liar?

Ethan gave you a few more huffs before finally letting you go. Making you promise to get home safely since you refused to let him pick you up. You had quickly washed in Toby’s shower, that he so graciously let you use. He was sitting on the bed when you came out, pair of boxers on. You swallowed, rubbing your thighs together briefly as you hurriedly walked out. Toby stopped you at the door, hesitantly pulling you towards him. And stupidly, you let him. Let him rest his forehead against yours, arms wrapping around your waist.

“Lemme drop y-you off, Sweetie.” He purred, that mischievous glint in his eyes that you knew far too well. You scoffed, laughing as your hands pressed against his chest. Leaning your weight into him, god why was he so… inviting. “Absolutely not, he’d freak if he saw you.” You giggled, you should feel guilty. Horrible. But you just.. couldn’t. “He won’t. Plus, too-too late for an uber. What if something ha-happens?” He chuckled, pressing another kiss against your forehead. You stupidly agreed, thankfully Toby was well-behaved on the drive. Just resting a hand on your thigh as he drove you to your crappy apartment near campus.

Toby pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before you got out. Watching you walk all the way into the building. Only leaving when he lost sight of you. Walking in you glanced at Ethan, who was slouching against the couch. You took off your shoes before moving to the bedroom. “Don’t tell me you’re seriously mad at me.” He sighed, leaning against the doorframe. You scoffed at him, no you weren’t mad. Not anymore. “I want to sleep, Ethan.”

The next couple weeks were.. tense. Despite Ethan apologizing to Toby, sleeping next to you. You felt this weird.. detachment. You were sure if you just powered through it that everything would be okay, things would go back to normal. The guilt you felt was.. eating you alive to put it lightly. And Toby’s smug little smirks whenever he saw you weren’t helping.

The fact that whenever Ethan pleasured you, all you could think about was Toby. How his cock weighed on your tongue, the taste of his cum. You fantasize how his cock would’ve felt. You hadn’t even dared confide in your bestie about this, you couldn’t tell anyone. You sighed, glancing at your bedroom door. Ethan had been watching TV in the living room, allowing you to watch your own things. A group notification distracted you, drawing your thoughts away as you opened it. Ethan had texted in the group chat.. saying.. he was leaving? Your brows furrowed, leaving? Did he find out?

Your heart nearly dropped out your ass as you stumbled out the room. “Ethan?” You called, turning the corner to look at the couch. He wasn’t there, but the TV was still on? You turned to the kitchen, however something stopped your steps. Slowly you crept to further, hand moving to your mouth as you looked at the horrifying sight. Your back making contact with the corner of the dining table. You shuddered as the figure looming over Ethan slowly stood up.

They crept towards you slowly, hands raised in a seemingly mocking form of surrender. You need to move, run, scream. Anything but you couldn’t. Not as your eyes made contact with Ethan’s dead eyes, blood leaking from his neck. It was so.. dark. So much. Your eyes flickered to the individual, tears brimming as you saw the blood staining their hands. Your breath quickened, the murderer slowly inching more and more. Just as you were about to bolt, they caged you against the table. A startled bark escaping your lips as you raised your arms. Trying to shield yourself from them. But they didn’t hurt you, just loomed over you, fingers digging into the table.

You peaked at them from your hands. They just looked at you, drool leaking from the bars of what you could only call a muzzle. Their neck popped to the side as they leaned in, pressing you further into the table. You heard a rumble in their throat before they grabbed your wrist. You cringed at the feeling of Ethan’s blood on your skin. They dragged you to the bedroom, shoving you towards the bed. You huffed as you fell on the floor, holding on the edge of it.

Watching the masked man carefully as he walked around, you could practically hear your heart pounding in your chest. Watching as he tugged his mask off, pulling the goggles off. “Toby?” You whispered, brows furrowing as you looked at him. Your mind was racing as you watched him stalk towards you before kneeling infront of you. His hand reached out, brushing against your cheek. “What’s wrong, pre-tty? Scared?” You flinched from his hand, tears falling as the weight of everything crashed on you.

“Why.. why would you.” You trailed off, trying to shift further away from him. “I had to, Lamm. He was keep-eping you from me.” He sighed, shaking his head before smiling at you. “It’s alright tho-ho-ugh now, wir können zusammen sein, Liebling.” His hand gripped your throat as he pulled you back up. His lips meeting yours as he brought you to sit on the bed. You couldn’t move, your brain was completely fried. Shock. Fear. How was he expecting you to just accept all this, and yet. You yielded. You let him as he undressed you again, lips trailing down your abdomen.

“I-I don’t think..” You pushed yourself up, Toby settled between your legs as he held your leg. “Hush, Liebe, las-s es einfach sein.” He murmured, helping you wiggle off your shorts, thumb rubbing up and down your slit. “Kein Höschen? Hure.” He gave your cunt a kiss before standing back up, unbuckling his belt. You rubbed your legs together watching him, biting your lip your eyes trailed. He was so.. enticing. No, tempting. You didn’t refuse him as he caged you under him, pressing against him as he brought you into a kiss.

It was claiming, Toby wasn’t gentle as he kissed you, shoving his tongue into your mouth. You gave into him completely, as your legs hooked around his hips. Everything between the two of you was sloppy, the kiss, his cock rubbing against your folds. He clouded you, clouded your mind as two of his fingers rolled and pinched your nipples. A small yelp from you, Toby just laughed at your reaction. Bending down to take one in his mouth, the slow rolling of his hips becoming just a bit faster.

Mesmerized as you watched him, fingers threading through curls. Your cheeks flushed, whining at him, your hips moved in sync with his. Your heart fluttered watching that hazy look in his eyes as he suckled on your breast, able to see his cock grounding into you. Your heel dug deeper into his back, hips jolting. “Frech, Lamm. Want me, baby?” His mouth left your tit with a pop. You nodded furiously, pleading with him to give you what you want. No, need. You needed him. Your moans were deep as he pushed into you, he was so thick. He moved one of your legs to his shoulder, hand moving down to rub your stomach before his thumb rubbed lazy circles on your clit.

You cared for nothing, not when hearing the text notifications, not the ringtones, not even the blood staining your body. No, all you could focus on was Toby’s cock, his fluttery kisses as he pushed into you. Completely transfixed on him. Bottoming out in you, Toby didn’t give you a moment of rest. His pace was desperate, deep guttural moan leaving his lips as he leaned down into you. Your toes curled and your nails dug into his biceps as he fucked into you. Completely taking your breath away, he felt better than you imagined. Everything felt so, so good.

The kisses between the two of you were sloppy, slobber everywhere from Toby. But you didn’t mind, you loved it. You love him, especially as he hit that one spot inside you. Your eyes rolled back, head dangling as your nails held him tighter. “Fuh-ck! Please right there!” You sobbed, eyes brimming again but this time in pleasure. Toby swore under his breath as he held you firmer, keeping himself right in that spot for you. “Du wurdest für mich geschaffen, sie wurde für mich geschaffen.” He swore, looking down at the slick mess you both made, a white ring forming on the base of his cock.

“Du gehörst mir. Nicht diese verdammten Schädlinge.” Your lip quivered, you were so close and that stupid accent of his was driving you up a wall. You tried pulling yourself up to him, or maybe you were pulling him down. You didn’t know, didn’t care, you needed him to kiss you. Toby just cooed at you, how pathetic you looked, perfect little brain dead whore.

You gaped at Toby when he moved out of you, tears rolling down your cheek. The feeling of him burned into your cunt, making your stomach twist in yearning. “Tobs! Gimme, gi-gimme back!” You pleaded, coming out more so as sobs. Toby just hushed you, cock rubbing against you again. “Hush, baby. I’ll giv-v-e it back to you, just wait.” He chuckled, laughing how your eyes were glued to his cock. He wanted you obsessed. Your nails leaving angry red marks all over him as you followed him, your legs straddling his waist as he laid down.

You held onto his shoulders, lips swollen from his kisses and nibbling. Toby thought you looked gorgeous, desperate as you aligned his cock back to your hole. Not even caring about the shake in your thighs as you bounced on him. Blabbering words of praise and want. Toby just watched you, absolutely heart struck feeling you squeeze and take him in. One hand held your back, the other propping him up. The sight of the mirror behind you catching his eye. Fuck. Did you know your ass looked this good? He spread his own legs, hypnotized at the strings of lewd mess connecting you together everytime you moved up.

Seeing it glisten in the light, some of it turning more cream color as you constantly mixed it. His lips moved to your chest giving you sweet kisses, harsh bites. Your hips were beginning to falter, and your thighs ached but you were so desperate for him. “Aww, mein süß-ßes Mädchen. Mach dir keine Sorgen-en, ich werde auf dich aufpassen.” He snickered, tone mocking as he laid back. He pushed you both up further to the bed, feet planted as he held your hips. You slouched against him as he began fucking up into you.

“Yes, yes!” Was all you could babble, drool escaping the corner of your lips and down his shoulder. Toby’s pace was far more brutal than before, his nails for sure leaving marks in your hips. You could feel that familiar coil quickly building itself up. You pushed up on Toby, coming face to face with him. Was it okay to say he looked divine? That look in his eyes was softer, gentler. It made your heart flutter, that look of love. You kissed him softly, savoring the taste of him. Your hands cradling his face as best they could, though really it was the tips of your fingers.

“Love you, s-sweet girl.” He mumbled, your kisses slowly becoming more frenzied as you both got closer and closer. “L-luh-ove you too, loves you so much!” You cried, nails digging back into his shoulders as you felt your orgasm wash over you. Toby held on a bit longer than you, reveling in how you looked. “Look so pret-ty when you cum.” He cooed, kissing the tip of your nose before rolling you both over. Hips hammering into you before stilling as his own orgasm took over. One his hands squeezing your tit, mostly to ground him but also for the feeling.

Toby rolled his hips a bit more, helping you both ride out your highs. The sound he made pulling out of you causing you to hide your face with a groan. Toby just hummed, watching his cum leak out of you with satisfaction. “Don’t think-think there’s a single person that’s cum on a murder-er’s dick so hard.” He wheezed, fingers tightly grabbing your jaw. You shuddered, right… Ethan. You tried closing your legs but they were swore and Toby was far stronger than you as he held them open. “There’s that look, remembering someone?” Your heart skipped a beat, lip wobbling.

“S’okay, love. I’ll make sure you fucking forget about him-m.”

: ̗̀➛ Guys i fucking swear I didn’t even realize how long this was til like.. halfway through I was just writing. But I am happy with the psychological value of it! I hope you guys are too. I was just really getting into the idea. I love stalker!toby so much, he is bae. Honestly, I did name the ex after my own. Felt therapeutic 🙂‍↕️ Thank you so much for the request Whoa! You have a lovely mind — Ace

[bekolxeram]

A whole day late to @bucktommyfluffebruary's day 1 prompt: non-sexual intimacy. Inspiration strikes suddenly, what can I say?

You can also read it on AO3.

Golden Hour

rated G | 1027 words

“Morning, team!” Buck walks into the firehouse with an extra bounce in his step, looking the most carefree he’s been for months.

“What got you so… woah,” Hen begins questioning, but stops in the middle of the sentence once she fully turns around and takes a good look of her strangely jovial co-worker.

“What’s wrong? Is there something on my face?” Buck instinctively touches his face in response to Hen’s reaction. He has a hard time deciphering her expression; She seems… surprised, astonished, but at the same time, shocked, and confounded.

“No! Not really. You seem… happier,” Hen puts on a reassuring smile, “but the bags under your eyes seem like they came straight from the Milan Fashion Week, and your hair looks like you’ve just rolled out of bed.”

The entire 118 bore witness to Buck’s post-Tommy heartbreak. Yes, he obsessively checked his phone and got addictive to baking, maybe he let his stubble grow out a day or two more than it should, but he never, ever, neglected personal hygiene or grooming. He always made sure to dress like a functioning member of the society before heading to work, what happened outside of shift was his own business.

“I used to know someone like this at school,” Chimney joins in. “His girlfriend dumped him just before summer break. Then he came back to school looking like a hobo, but at the same time, happy as the Buddha. He told me he went on a trip to discover himself.”

“But Buck was with us last shift, 48 hours ago. What life-changing destination could he have gone to in such a short amount time?” Hen furrows her brows in confusion.

“By trip, I mean an acid trip,” Chimney snickers, then he turns to face Buck in chorus with Hen, waiting for an answer.

“I can assure you, I’ve never taken any mind altering substance before coming to work. That would be irresponsible!” Buck objects, attempting to halt this dangerous speculation at once.

Just as Hen and Chimney are about to interrogate further, Eddie chimes in while slowly sipping on his coffee, “Buck and Tommy are back together without telling us.”

Gasps, then cheers fill the room.

“Wait, how? Did Tommy tell you?” Buck asks.

“No one told me anything,” Eddie takes another sip from his mug, “I can just tell, from your hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?”

“Oh! Yeah!” Hen’s whole face is lit up by her realization, “the hair thing, right?” She vaguely gesture at her head.

“Exactly.” Eddie snaps his fingers at Hen.

“What hair thing?” It’s now Buck’s turn to be utterly confused.

“I don’t get it either,” Chimney turns his attention to his brother-in-law. “Is Tommy bad at picking shampoo? Or hair product? Can’t you just bring your own?”

“Um… I don’t know.”

“You’ll get it once you’ve spent enough time with them,” Eddie sighs.

“I’ve spent plenty of time with them. One is my oldest friend, the other is my brother by marriage!”

“With both of them together, as a third wheel,” Eddie adds.

Chimney grimaces. “Ugh, no! Is it a sex thing?”

“It’s appropriate safe in public,” Hen clarifies, “as long as you don’t find two people of the same gender being in love inappropriate.”

“Oh, okay,” Chimney nods in understanding, “but, what about the bags under your eyes?”

“Um… Tommy and I…”

Buck’s interrupted by Eddie.

“Stop. That one’s definitely a sex thing.”

It takes Chimney another few months to figure out what the “hair thing” actually is.

Buck and Tommy have been invited to dinner at the Han’s.

The four of them were anxious about the possible awkwardness, but Chimney and Tommy settle right back into their old buddy dynamic once the conversation starts flowing.

“I think you two fixed my brain when you showed up all sooty at the hospital. I was groggy all week, but connecting the dots that you guys had been making out? That was the first time I felt like I could finally think clearly,” Chimney recounts his experience coming down with viral encephalitis, and marrying the love of his life at a hospital.

“A hospital, what is it?” Tommy asks, barely containing his giggle.

“It’s a big building with patients, but that’s not important right now,” Chimney bursts into laughter in unison with Tommy by the time his finishes his sentence.

“Um… What’s the joke?” Maddie asks, while both Buckley siblings frown, seemingly puzzled.

“Airplane! The greatest comedy movie of all time!” Chimney exclaims.

“And the most quotable,” Tommy supplements.

“Neither of you have watched Airplane? Tommy, you didn’t introduce your man to the most influential film in your life?”

The Buckley siblings shake their head.

“Alright, we’re watching it after dinner.”

Chimney has seen Airplane! countless times before. The simple, sometimes childish humor of this classic has been his go-to for years whenever he needs a pick-me-up.

He may have the ability to recite the entire movie from start to finish, but the source of the enjoyment now comes from watching his friends and loved ones’ reaction to this comedic masterpiece, to experience the amusement and wonder anew from their fresh eyes.

“We have clearance, Clarence.”

“Roger, Roger. What’s our vector, Victor?”

Chimney turns to focus on the viewers’ reaction, instead of the screen.

Maddie’s almost crying with laughter, while shoving a few kernels of popcorn into her mouth. Popcorn with butter and pickle juice, the exact snack she’s been craving.

Buck, on the other hand, is laying his head onto Tommy’s shoulder.

And Tommy, he absentmindedly anchors his hand into Buck’s hair, and ruffles the curls around.

Chimney himself would gladly push off whoever dares to touch his carefully styled hair, but Buck’s happily leans into his boyfriend’s touch.

“Is that correct phraseology in aviation?” Buck beams at Tommy, half flirting and half genuinely asking to satisfy his curiosity.

“Yeah, more or less. That’s why it’s a classic,” Tommy gazes back at Buck softly, hand still messing up the younger man’s hair.

Buck shows his dimples, nestles his head at the crook of Tommy’s neck, and continues watching the movie.

My brother is in good hands.

Chimney tells himself silently.

[steddieas-shegoes]

not so dead after all

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘rose’

rated m | 367 words | cw: blood drinking, technically temporary MCD | tags: came back wrong, vampire Eddie Munson, pre-relationship, first kiss, robin is the only one with any sense

🧛🧛🧛🧛🧛🧛🧛🧛🧛🧛

“This feels very…Dracula.”

“You’re making jokes? Eddie’s standing in front of us dead and you’re making jokes?!” Steve feels insane. Robin is referencing a fictional vampire while Eddie, who has definitely been dead for six months, is standing right there, watching them.

“I don’t think he’s so dead after all,” Robin says.

“No shit!”

Eddie hasn’t said anything since they first opened the door and shrieked in his face. That’s understandable since they…shrieked in his face.

They dragged him into Steve’s house and they’ve been staring at him since, waiting to see if he dissolves into nothing or they wake up from this shared dream. Neither of those things happen.

“So…you…rose from the dead?” Robin asks Eddie.

“I don’t know if I’m alive,” Eddie admits.

“Okay. Cool. So you’re a ghost?” Steve thinks that’s a fair assumption to make based on how pale he is and also the fact that he was previously dead.

“No. Definitely more vampire craving your blood,” Eddie says calmly.

“Steve’s blood? My blood? Anyone’s?” Robin takes a few steps back even though she’s kept her distance since he walked inside.

“Steve’s. I guess anyone’s would do, but his smells best.” Eddie sniffs the air. “Like wine and honey and chocolate.”

“My blood smells like that?” Steve winces. “Gross.”

“Far from it, big boy,” Eddie laughs. “But I have self control so. You’re safe.”

“How do you know?” Robin asks. A good question since it looks like this is the first place Eddie stopped when he came back to life.

“Because I’ve been smelling it for months and haven’t attacked him yet. Pretty sure I would’ve by now.”

“Months?” Robin and Steve ask at the same time.

“It’s been torture.”

“So will it…help?”

Robin smacks his arm. “You cannot offer your blood to Eddie until we figure out what’s going on!”

“Maybe it’ll help us figure it out! Just call Hop so he can be on his way if something goes wrong.”

“You’re serious?” Eddie steps closer.

“Might as well. Hope I taste as good as I smell.”

Robin fusses. Eddie bites Steve’s neck.

Steve’s knees buckle. Eddie holds him.

“Feeling very alive right now,” Eddie says when he’s done.

Steve kisses him.

[slimybeth69]

Que Será, Será: Part 9

Rating: Explicit- Smut, violence, drinking/drug use. MDNI!!

Summary: It's almost twenty years after some weird outbreak almost happened but the CDC took care of that...Now you're living in Austin, Texas as an adult.What happens when you meet Joel Miller who hasn't been hardened and ruined by twenty years of murder and loss?Warnings/Tags: DaddyDom!Joel/ you. no use of y/n. No physical description of the reader besides one tattoo. Reader has a background story. Drinking/drug use. Slow burn. Smut. Angst. Cheating. Graphic depictions of violence. Eventual loss of virginity. Use of nicknames/pet names (lil girl, baby girl.) DD/lg dynamics. BDSM play.

Unbeta'ed. WIP. Cross-posting from my Ao3.Chapter

Warnings: drinkings, bar fights, reader gets injured, Joel is a DICK. SMUT!! SO MUCH!!! IT'S HAPPENING EVERYONE. IT'S HAPPENING.

It’s been two weeks since your little drinking, spanking, shopping and swapping shenanigans. Joel (your boyfriend) has spent the night at least…nine or ten times and each time he brings you something. Four times it was flowers, another time he brought dinner. The next night he brought you sex toys. Real sex toys and didn’t even ask to watch you use them. Just left them on your bedside table before he left for work and then kissed you goodbye while you slept. 

He doesn’t ask you to come over after you said you feel bad about leaving your brand new cat. Who is…perfect and sweet. She is a snuggly baby and just wants love and scratches. She looooves Joel. Meows at him all the time and he acts annoyed by it but you know he loves it. He’s so nice and sweet to her. Picks her up and puts her in his lap when he thinks you aren’t looking. He just wants to pet her and be nice to her. 

It’s going to be awkward if and when Sam and Cody ever come home. Another grown man…older than both of them sleeping in their basement? Awesome. Sam–if she ever gets better– is going to lose her mind that this man is twenty years older than you. She’s also going to have a sarcastic mouth and say something about him being old enough to be your dad and… Joel doesn’t like that very much. Not at all, actually. So. 

You guys get it…more than you would think. People are just openly telling you and your dad to have a great day. Enjoy your meal. Have fun. Why are people okay with outwardly assuming the older gentleman you’re with is your dad? Huh? Weird. Joel does not let go of your hand or your ass everywhere you go because he hates it so much. It’s been a struggle.

But not enough to make him not wanna see you anymore.

Joel is taking you to the bar tonight to meet Tommy, his brother. Your boyfriend (never gets old) told you that you’ve probably seen Tommy before. He comes into the store too. You're racking your brain of every man who has ever come through your line before. Ones that look like Joel? None. Maybe. You dunno. You see so many guys all day long. 

Tommy recognizes you though. Sure does. 

“You rejected me a couple months ago.” Tommy snickers softly as he shakes your hand. “But you’ll date my asshole older  brother? I see. I see you.” Tommy gives you the universal – index and middle fingers pointed at his eye then to yours– motion that says ‘I see you’. It’s fine. You do not care. Joel is your type and Tommy is no Joel. 

Tommy is alright though. You’re shocked you turned him down as you all sat at a booth near the back of the bar with drinks. His hair is longer, shoulder length and darker than Joel’s. Mustache and a goatee. He never asked for your number… He’s lying. Maybe. 

“You like Austin?” Tommy sips on his beer after he asks. 

“It’s alright. I liked living in Jersey. I didn’t really wanna move. It was just hard finding a job up there…but it was just as hard down here.” You snort and take a sip of your drink as Joel relaxes. He said in the car he was sore and he needed a massage later. You would give him one in hopes he would fuck you. He still hasn’t. It’s fine. You’re not upset about it. 

“Hardware store treat you good? Joel told me ‘bout your truck and your computer. Sucks. Sorry.” Tommy seems like a nice guy. 

“They’re nice to me. Give me the same schedule that I like. Don’t make me work late. I don’t love it, but I don’t hate it.” You shrug your shoulders. “Do you like working with Joel?” You feel a gentle and slow moving hand on your bare thigh, Joel’s hand under the skirt of your sundress.. A comforting touch. 

“S’alright. All I’ve ever done. I started right after I graduated high school— did that early.” Tommy smiles at himself proudly. 

“That’s fuckin’ cool. Did you do any night classes or anything like that to go to college smarty pants?” You tease him nicely. He chuckles and shakes his head. 

“Nooo. Stayed here and just worked for this miserable fuck. Probably will for the rest of his life.” Tommy jokes and Joel rolls his eyes. 

“I’m fuckin’ retiring soon. Fuck that shit. You take over. You do this shit.” He grumbles and sips his beer. 

“I’ll take over, shiiit. Been waiting to hear those words.” Tommy shakes his head in a sense of disbelief and excitement and is smiling. It’s a cute brother interaction and it’s good to see that they’re close. Tommy doesn’t actually hate him you don’t think. So that’s good. Joel is moving his hand all up and down your leg and moving it in towards your inner thigh, squeezing you tightly with his rough fingers. 

“I’m thinkin’ next year or two. Nothin’ too long.” Joel sounds reassuring to Tommy. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Tommy rolls his eyes and finishes his beer. “Y’all want another?” You and Joel both say yes and as soon as Tommy is out of earshot, Joel leans in and whispers in your ear. 

“Open your legs.” Then he kisses you on the cheek and leans back against the booth. You open your legs slowly and Joel doesn’t tease or anything, he's inside your panties and he slides one thick, stiff finger through your folds, pulls his hand from under your dress and offers his finger that was just trailing up your other set of lips. You open your mouth and he smears your juices on your tongue, withdraws his finger and then sucks it clean with his mouth. “Close ‘em.” Joel nudges your knee with his under the table and you snap them shut as Tommy walks up. 

They start to talk and you have no time to talk to him about what he just did. In public! Indecency!! Getting arrested?? He had scared you in the parking lot when he said you could get arrested!! No thank you. Your back is sweating from that. Kinda hot… 

“Hey,” Joel nudges you with his elbow and drags you back to the bar and out of fucking thinking about becoming a registered offender for Joel. You’re being spoken to and not responding. Tommy is asking you something. 

“Did you go to school?” 

“Um, for a little bit and then I found a job I loved and didn’t wanna go. Wasn’t going…” You chuckle that last part nervously. “Partied a little and just would sleep through class. Wasting money.” You shrug your shoulders. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you but you don’t look up at him. 

“Damn. I went to a couple of college parties. Fuckin’ pretty wild shit happenin’ there.” Tommy is doing nothing to help your case. 

“Dumb shit.” You snort and avoid the quizzical eyes that that are being given to you by your boyfriend. You left out the parties when he asked. Dunno why you said anything tonight. Idiot. 

“Hell yeah. Saw some wild shit…” Tommy’s eyes are flicking between you and Joel and he’s smirking. “Your man over there know what kinda wild shit you was gettin’ into?” He snickers into his beer glass. 

“I wasn’t getting into any wild shit. Just drinking too much.” You roll your eyes and finally look up at Joel who is just… lookin’ at you. “I wasn’t gettin’ into wild shit!” You exclaim and he smirks. 

“Sure.” Then he goes back to talking to Tommy. 

“Hey, I’ll be right back” You stand to go to the bathroom after letting Joel know and try and find it in this maze of a bar. You find it a minute later. You look nice tonight. Did your make up all pretty and actually did something pretty with your hair. You're happily looking at yourself in the mirror and two girls walk in– pretty girls. They look at you. You look at them. It’s quiet for two seconds. 

“I love your dress!” One of them exclaims excitedly. They fawn over your simple navy blue dress. It’s knee length. Nothing fancy but they hype you up in the bathroom and make you feel so nice. What a good drunk girl bathroom experience. You’re on cloud nine walking back to the booth when chaos erupts beside you at the bar. You have no time to scramble away before the tall bar chairs are being knocked over and hitting you in the legs. It hurts! People start shouting–

“Fuck you– stupid fucking pussy bitch. You won’t do shit. You fucking wont”

“Fuckin’ lets go outside. Fight me outside pussy. One-on-one. Me n’ you, fucker.” 

They do not wait and are throwing punches so quickly and moving so fast. You are overtaken by them and do not even realize what is happening as you take elbows and maybe a fuckin’ fist to the eye!? What was that!? Jeeeesus that hurt– whatever the fuck it was– but it doesn’t stop! They are fighting and now more people from the bar are jumping in to fight or break it up. 

Soft, small hands are on yours and pulling you out of the way but someone falls and breaks your grip and now you’re stumbling backwards towards more fighting men and now, fighting women. They aren’t asking who is involved. Just throwing punches and you take one to the left tit and someone kicks you in the back of the thigh!! What the fuck!! Now, you’re mad and you are also fucking punching and kicking people. What the fuck!? Who just doesn’t let the girls get outta the way first??? 

One of the two original guys is on the ground, and he definitely hit you or elbowed you (on accident, but still). You give him two good stomps to the shoulder for whatever he did to you and then… you get a real punch to the face. The fist is big, feels like a boulder against your skull. There is so much force behind it. You're stunned. One that sends you into tunnel vision and it’s blurry and you’re in pain. Real pain. None of that other shit hurt like this. Hoooly shit. Your eye is on fire. It might have fucking fallen out. Jeeeeus. You're stumbling away, almost falling down to the ground. More people are on top of you. You are fighting them off of you. 

You're trying to stand up in this mob of people and your hand gets stepped on and it hurts. Your dress is all hiked up to your stomach. The bar floor is sticky and there are hands on you. Not even trying to be groping or touching you the way they are, they're just as desperate to get out of this sea of hot, sweating bodies. Finally, you're on your knees and someone pushes you forward into someone another girl. You've never seen her before, and now the eye that hurt before it's stinging and you can barely see out of it. You see out of your good eye that she is getting ready to fight you for slamming into her, she has her first cocked back but you beat her to it, you slam your closed fist right between her eyes and now, the hand that has been stepped on and now punched into someones skull-- sends fire to your brain. More new pain as you push yourself to your feet while still being all jostled around.

More small, soft, girly hands are on yours immediately pulling you out of the way. It’s one of the girls from the bathroom. She is all messed up too, her hair and make up. Missing one of her fake eyelashes. Over her shoulder you have just enough time to see Joel with his hand around the throat of some guy, you hope the one who hit you and is pinning him to the wooden bar. Joel’s other fist is cocked back and he sends it forward. You can’t watch but you can hear it. Hear his fist connecting with that guy’s face. 

Fuck. Your face hurts real bad. Guy’s hands are on you but you already know they are not Joel’s so you start to push them off you angrily but Tommy’s voice is in your ear.

“Joel wants me to get you out of here.” Tommy is shouting over the commotion and noise and the screaming. It’s so loud. You’re still wincing as the guy Joel is holding to the bar starts to fight back. Tommy is leading you out of the bar through the fire exit and an alarm goes off but outside it’s finally… not chaos. 

“Shit! You okay!?” Tommy takes your face in his hands and inspects your eye. There is a comfort behind his touch that brings tears to your eyes before he brings ones of pain to them!

“I’m fine. It just— shit! Don’t fuckin' touch it!” You snap at him when he runs his hand over whatever is causing you pain. He pulls his hand away and there is blood on his thumb. “Is that my blood?!” You exclaim and bring one hand to your eye and the pain is coming from high on your upper lid near the outer edge of your brow. Stinging, burning and dull throbbing. Blood on your fingers!! You don’t have your purse or phone or anything. It’s all inside. Your hurt eye is still stinging. So bad. You have blood in your eye and it hurts! So badly! Where is your boyfriend!? Why is his brother taking care of you!? 

People come pouring out of the bar from every door. You and Tommy are looking for Joel for so long before he comes out of the bar… looking really angry. He’s got your bag, jacket and phone in his hand but he’s pointing at you accusingly shouting at you before he is even close enough for you to hear him but he keeps yelling until you can.

“Grow the fuck up!” He barks at you loudly. “Fightin’ at the bar? Really?!” He shouts at you and you’re so confused. As Joel gets closer, Tommy steps between the two of you like Joel… might do something if he didn’t. 

“I wasn’t fighting!!” You shout back at him. 

“I fuckin’ saw you!! Throwing fuckin’ fists! Ya fuckin’ serious!?” Joel is still pointing at you but over Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy keeps trying to talk to Joel who looks so fucking angry at you, but Joel keeps moving his head to see you. Joel has blood on his knuckles but his face is fucking fine so why is he yelling at you!? He was fighting too!

"You were fighting!! I saw you!!" You shout at him with more tears rolling down your face. Joel erupts-- pushing Tommy away, stumbling backwards until he regains his balance and get's between you and Joel again

"Beating up the fucker that pushed you!! For you to turn around and punch that fuckin' lady!" Joel screams at you. "She do that to you!? GOOD! S'whatchya get for fighting!" 

“A guy punched me–” You sob as tears roll down your cheeks, trying to explain yourself but he doesn’t let you finish. 

“Shut the fuck up! Grow—” Joel stops mid sentence and takes you in, really looks at you for the first time since he came outside. See's how badly you're beat  “A guy hit you!? Who!? Which fuckin’ one!?.” Joel is twisting his head around looking for whoever did it to you.

“Duh!!!! You fucking asshole!” You shout at him. “I don’t know who did it!! I got fucking punched in the face!!” You’re screaming a little and storm off towards his truck. You hear a scuffle behind you and look over your shoulder and now Tommy and Joel are fighting. Tommy is trying to get Joel to give you a minute, or Joel himself a minute to cool down. Joel is not letting it happen, shoving his brother in the chest, talking shit– being an asshole. You don’t even care if they fight. Fuck this. You keep going towards the truck until you hear the sound no one wants to hear. 

An expensive phone dropping on a hard surface. Pavement in this case. You close your eyes and keep walking because you already know it was yours and it’s probably broken and you can’t think about it. Won’t.You’re still sobbing as you get to Joel’s truck.

This night didn’t happen. 

Your face says a different story in the side mirror of Joel's truck. There is evidence that it did happen. You’re black and blue on your right eye and have an inch long laceration right below your eyebrow. Bleeding. Dripping down the side of your face– which is numb– and down your chin and onto your pretty dress. Your hand is all black and blue. You inspect the back of your thigh and it is also, black and blue. With a red shoe print right In the middle. You sob softly against the car and just want Joel to take you home and never talk to you again. 

The truck unlocks while you’re standing against the door. You open it before Joel has the chance to do it for you and climb in. You don’t even look at him when he gets in. He just sits next to you silently for so long. Feels like an hour of him just listening to you cry. 

“I'm sorry. Jus' slipped outta my hand. I’ll getchya a new one tomorrow. Better one.” He murmurs softly. “N’ I’m sorry fer’ yelling at you. Tellin' ya t'shup up.” He reaches over the console now to touch your shoulder but you pull away, still crying. “I am sorry. I was just mad n’ all fuckin’.. I dunno. Just...” 

“Just fuckin’ yellin' at me.” You sob. “I’m bleeding!” You turn to him and show him the blood on your face that he can clearly see. He nods and leans over the console to inspect it. You let him, let him touch your chin gently in his fingers to turn your head so you'll look at him. His other hand pulls the skin above your eyebrow up so he can inspect how deep the wound is. It hurts when he does that so you whimper and clench your eyes shut. He sucks his teeth softly and sadly. 

“I’m gonna take you to the hospital. Y'need stitches.” he leans in and steals a gentle kiss before you can stop him, you honestly, don't even want to. "I am sorry. So sorry." He murmurs against your lips with desperation in his tone. He has your blood on his cheek when he pulls away– and you mindlessly wipe it off with your thumb, and then feel fucking stupid for caring about that when he didn't care to begin with. "I really am.” He starts the truck and drives towards the emergency room. You say nothing.

You need six stitches. Joel is driving you home two hours later in silence. You don’t even have a phone to look at. Smashed to fuck. Because your boyfriend is an asshole. Neither one of you say anything until he pulls into your driveway. 

“So…I’m not leavin’...” Joel starts to explain, you try and argue with him but he narrows his eyes on yours and it silences you. “I had a lil plan fer’ tonight… n’ it looks like yer’ too mad at me for that to happen–” Joel is still talking but you don’t even really hear him. You speak over him. He keeps talking and you tune back into what he is saying. "--leavin'. I don't gotta sleep in yer' bed. I'll stay on the couch but we're talkin' 'bout this tomorrow. We have to. I gotta buy you a new phone..." He trails off shaking his head in shame for himself for acting the way he did. 

“You were gonna… fuck me tonight?” You scoff and squint your eye at him. The other one is a lil swollen. Joel nods and shrugs his shoulders.

“I thought it’d be fun, have a couple drinks… loosen up a lil. Fuck you all night. 'Cause I know ya really want it. Yer' excited for it. Not nervous n' shy.” Joel looks down at his hands as he speaks. 

“That an excuse to get you inside?” You ask softly. Joel shakes his head. 

“I been knew we were gon’ do this tonight. Couple days ago-- when we decided to have you meet Tommy.” Joel chuckles. “Fuckin’ shoulda just done it a long time ago.” He scoffs softly like he is annoyed with himself. “Was gon’ have you wear that lil white thang I got you. Was gonna fuckin'... defile you in that thang.” He turns his head to look at you and frowns. “I don’t wanna leave, Bird. I wanna talk 'bout it. Don't gotta do nothin'. Talk in the mornin'?” He pleads with you softly and quietly. 

“I don't need to talk about it. I have one thing to say." You look at him with the most honest, and innocent eyes you have because you are. You're a nice girl who doesn't fight at the bar. You want to be a good girl for him but, not if this is the kind of person he's going to be to you. "If you ever yell at me like that again…you’ll never get a chance to apologize for it. I mean it.” You snap at him and open the door to his truck and jump down. Your door isn’t even shut before Joel is beside you. He lets you lead him to the front door and watches you unlock it, his hands on your waist. 

“I’m sorry. I'll be better. I will.” Joel whispers in to your ear as he trawls his hands along your sides and over your stomach. Once the door is open, the front of one of his thighs press against the backs yours and he pushes your leg into the house slowly, and then does it with the other as he walks you into the entryway. “Sorry.” He whispers once more against the nape of your neck as his hands roam across the front of you. 

“I know.” You lean back against his chest and now he pulls you into him, kissing your skin softly. “I’m still mad though!” You pull away from him but he holds you against him and speaks quickly to stop your pushing and fighting hands on his arms around you.

“You should be.” It's spoken firmly against the crook of your neck and makes you stop fighting him. “I get.. I dunno– seein' you get pushed by that guy... I got fuckin' scared. N' then I turn around n' see you fighting? I got mad. Like an asshole-- I say shit I don’t mean.” He sounds ashamed. 

“S’why your wife left?” You ask sharply and are not even scared because if he gets mad again, he can fuckin’ leave. 

“Partially.” Joel sighs. “She was just as bad, Bird.” Joel holds his arms out from behind you and twists them in each direction so you can see all those scars. “Not from workin’.” Joel kisses your neck again and his warm breath feels staggered like he is nervous to be talkin’.

“She did this to you?” You whisper quietly in shock. 

“Fer’ three fuckin’ years.” He groans and then pulls his arms away. “I hate talkin’ ‘bout it, don’t fuckin’ wanna, really. What else you wanna know?” Joel sighs softly from behind you. 

“You ever hit her back?” You’re not sure you wanna know, but you kind of need to know. 

“Once.” Joel whispers and his body is gone from behind yours. You turn and he’s leaning against the front door with the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes. “Fuckin’... the night ‘fore she took off. We were fightin’, n’ she just wouldn’t let up.” He doesn’t remove his hands, sounds angry to be talking about it and is starting to speak a little more aggressively. “Non stop. All night. Scratchin’, wailin’ on me somethin’ fuckin’ terrible. Callin’ me a bad dad– been a dad for two weeks mind you, workin’ my ass off day in n’ out for those that lil girl n' that bitch who fuckin' hit me.” Joel finally rips his hands away from his eyes and is shaking his head, with an angry smile on his face. “I fuckin’ just… I dunno, lil tap on her mouth-- t’ shut her up. After three fuckin’ years of puttin’ up with it.” Joel tosses his hands in the air and puts his hand on the doorknob.

“Don’t go–” You try and stop him even though you are still mad at him. Those patterned scars on his arms? Her fucking fingernails and that's heartbreaking. Makes you so fucking sad that he put up with that for so long because he just wanted to be a dad.

“I need a fuckin' minute—” He says sharply. “I'm not takin’ my bullshit out on you– again.” Then he opens the door, steps out onto the porch and shuts the door behind him. 

What the hell is going on? 

You go to the basement because, poor Joel. Your battered and beaten– That fuckin’ bitch of an ex-wife of his better hope you never have to meet her. You’ll put your hands on her in ways Joel couldn’t. Sure fuckin’ will. You’re so mad thinking about it while you change out of your bloody dress and into that lil white lace thing Joel got you. 

You’re losing your virginity tonight. You don’t care what he says or if he wants to (you’re not gonna do that), you also don’t care that you have a black eye and a laceration with stitches. No. You’re going to fuck your boyfriend and make him less sad for having a terrible ex-wife that he— You gasp audibly even though no one is around to hear– thankfully. Joel is going to have to see her at his daughter's wedding. Stupid, man beatin’ bitch. Joel should have just left but… you’ve never been in an abusive relationship. So…you have no room to talk. You are going to fuck him. You're partially a little mad at him, mostly feel kinda bad that his wife used to hit him. Want him to remember how good n' tight your pussy is if he ever sees her again and gets sucked back into whatever bullshit she was dishing out that kept him around for so long. 

You're gonna do your damnedest to seduce your boyfriend and get him to fuck you. You need it more than he does honestly. You got punched in the face--- fuuck. Your PHONE!? You cannot even think about it because you'll lose all sense of feeling bad for him and go out there and spit on him not nicely. Okay. Sex with Joel. 

You’ll just be there for him if and when he comes inside to see you ready in bed. Splayed out so he can fucking use you if he needs to. You don't care. You cleaned up all the blood and honestly…ya don’t look half bad. You look sexy as hell in that lil white thang and your black eye. He won’t be able to resist. If he ever comes inside…he’s been out there for so long. 

It’s hard to not go inspecting when he’s out there for a half hour. Just sitting on one of the chairs on the porch. You could go outside. Sam and Cody’s house faces a giant field and has no neighbors across from them and it’s late. You’re fuckin’ in your lil white thing. Shit. Fuck. Doesn’t matter. He is your boyfriend and he is sad. You open the door and take a deep breath, getting ready to be almost naked outside. 

“Hi.” You stand with your feet together after you step out and turn to him. He doesn’t look up at you, just stares at his hands. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” He grumbles to himself. “I just feel like an ass.” He still doesn’t look up. 

“I know. You should for what happened at the bar. But, we can talk another time about it. Come inside with me.” You feel like an ass to for being out here like this. Cody and Sam…have neighbors on either side of their house…so someone could fuckin’ see you. 

“I need another minute, babe. I'm so--” Joel turns his head to look at you and stops mid-sentence. “Woah.” He sighs softly. “Yer' like a pretty lil angel.” Joel smirks and his eyes trace every voluptuous curve of your body before his eyes find yours. “You want Daddy t’fuck you tonight– all night? S'why you put that on? For me?” He asks softly, turning his body in the chair, resting one elbow on the armrest. 

“Yes, Daddy.” You nod at him and he pushes himself out of the chair. 

“Where you want it?” He growls softly. “Out here?” Joel raises one eyebrow and you freeze in fear and start to panic but Joel smirks and takes three steps so he can be in front of you, turning you so your back is to the front door. “Get yer’ ass in that bed, right now.” His kisses are long and desperate as your hand searches for the doorknob that is somewhere on the door behind you. He finds it for you and leads you inside, downstairs and to the bed. 

There is a trail of his clothes from the front door to where he has you now. On your bed. Naked between your legs. Both of you are quivering and searching endlessly for more air as you’re reduced to a puddle as he slides his length over your cunt through that little triangle of white fabric that separates the two of you. 

“Might hurt a lil.” Joel whispers down to you as he rolls his hips into yours softly. He’s been doing this as he kisses you, teasing you with nibbling bottom lip kisses and naughty words for several minutes and now he’s is like hot steel between your legs. “I’m sorry if it does hurt at all. Imma go slow the first time as long as y’need me to.” He whispers as just the tips of your noses touch softly. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah..” You’re so fucking nervous and excited and feel like you’ll never catch your breath again. 

“I like bein’ this close to ya, but…I gotta watch.” Joel kisses you softly and leans back so he can look between your two bodies that meet right in the center. “Fuuuck.” Joel whispers to only himself as he grinds himself into you. “You wanna keep that sexy lil thong on? Don’t care?” Joel flicks his eyes up to yours as one of his strong hands slips into the delicate string on the side. 

“You gonna rip it?” You ask with a smirk. He nods silently. “Do it.” Joel purses his lips together and yanks the elastic from the triangle of fabric and then does the same thing with the other side- discarding it on the floor. 

Joel seems just as nervous as you as he wraps one fist around his throbbing length. He strokes himself a couple times as he kneels in front of you. It’s already so hard and… so big. Fuck. Okay. You got this. He’s not doing anything. Just looking at your pussy and his cock he’s stroking right above it. He’s breathing just as heavy as you are. 

“Ready?” Joel flicks his eyes up to yours and you nod. “Gimmie.” Joel taps your hips with his hand and you push your hips up as he reaches forward and grabs two pillows and puts them under your hips. When you set them down, you’re angled up to him. “Perfect.” 

The tip of his cock is so much hotter than you could have ever expected him to be. So fucking hot, it’s like it’s burning you as he traces the outside of your cunt with it. You’re staring at him– watching his cock tease your pussy and you cannot help but wonder who he is teasing more. Himself or you? 

“Fuck me, Daddy.” You whine softly, batting your eyelashes. Joel’s eyes flick up to yours and they are dark and a little scary and he’s got his brows pinched together softly. 

“Shut up, lil brat. Daddy’s doin’ something.” He growls at you, the one hand on your outer thigh strokes you gently and comfortingly as he speaks. Doesn’t grip you or spank you at all. He drops his eyes back down to your dripping center and he sighs softly. “M'Fuckin’...lookin at it. Shut th'fuck up.” He sighs much softer now as he pushes the head of his cock between your folds to drag it up and down the length of your slit. 

“You shut up.” You coo up to him softly, biting your bottom lip. Joel smirks, snorts softly and looks up at you. 

“You like bein’ a lil bratty, bitch?" Joel hisses this question at you angrily, "'Cause this old man fuckin’ loves it.” He smirks, leans down to kiss your forehead before pulling away to watch as he continues to torture you. “Fuckin’ tellin’ me t’shut up. Who’re you? A lil bitch.” Joel speaks softly as the tip of him reaches the entrance. “Fuuuck. Fuck. Okay. Ready? I’m gon’ go slow.” Joel’s eyes can’t leave where you two are about to be joined, honestly, neither can yours. 

“Yeah, please. Put it in me.” You whisper softly and make Joel sigh softly. 

“Say that again.” He demands quietly.

“Put it in me, Daddy. Please.” Your voice is trembling like you might fucking cry from the anticipation of all of this. Been almost close to two months of teasing and licking and fingers. You didn’t even use those toys he got you…not yet. You will. You didn’t want to put anything inside of you before him. 

Joel says nothing as he pushes the tip inside of you. That’s not bad. It goes in with no resistance. He pushes in a little further and there is stretching. A lot of it. Stretching you full. So tight. You close your eyes and let your head fall back. You breathe through that pinching and uncomfortable rasping— pulling inside of you. Pulling you apart. Your pussy was leaking and made it so easy for him to slip into you though, you didn’t resist him, your cunt accept him happily but it still was so full. 

You’re reduced to whimpering through your nose at the new mix of pleasure as the length of him slides across your spongy, raised patch for the first time. It’s…incredible. Fingers are awesome, and toys are cool. 

Joel’s cock is so unyielding, so fucking rigid and hot as it’s stretching you, but when it snakes across that good spot– it’s like silk, smooth and comforting asthe tip of him, or anything ever, kisses your cervix for the first time. It’s a jolt that snaps your eyes open and makes you squeak. Joel’s eyes snap up to yours as his dark patch of pubic hair and the patch right above your slit intermingle as he sinks into you. 

“Lil squeakin’ baby okay?” God the way he fucking talks to you should piss you off. It should make you so fucking mad. You should make him get off of you but you do not because you love it. Joel holds his hips into yours, pressed tightly against you as you adjust to him. Your muscles and walls are clenching and unclenching around him as he delays his pleasure for your comfort. Joel likes it though, you keep doing it even after your cunt stops doing it involuntarily. The tempo change in your squeezing him makes him pull back out of you slowly. 

How can someone be so incredibly soft and hard all at the same time? His whole body. All of it. Soft n’ hard. Fuck. You’re staring up at him while he watches the entire length of him reappear from the interior of you. You see it, your slickness on him, it’s fucking glistening on the throbbing veins and almost purple skin of him. 

“Jesus.” You sigh softly as he pulls everything but the tip from inside you. 

“Fuckin’ tight as hell. Holy shit.” Joel gasps like he had been holding his breath. You sigh and then are reduced to nothing but a moaning mess on the bed as he starts to thrust into you rhythmically. It’s slow and soft. Gentle as to not make you squeak too much, only a little. Your eyes are closed, he’s not telling you to open them. He is leaning over to take on your nipples in his mouth through the sheer, white lace of the bra. He wraps his lips around as much of your breast as he can, sucking it gently as his tongue laps and swirls around your sensitive peak. 

“Oh fu–uck! You can only speak harshly as that mix of pleasure and pain start to mix differently. More stretching and dull aching as his cock moves inside of you– but it’s not as intense or nearly as bad now that you have something constantly moving against that fucking spot. Fuck. He feels so good and warm– hot. He is red, hot steel under the satin, smooth skin of his throbbing dick. “Jeeeesus. Fuck ”

“You like this hard dick Daddy’s givin’ you?” He barks down to you softly, snaps it out of his mouth like you aren’t a melting mess below him. “Yeah you fuckin’ do, sexy fuckin’ brat.” Joel chuckles as a groan escapes his mouth. 

“Y-you like this– fuck– tight pussy– fuuucking god— your lil girl’s givin’ you?” You part choke the words out and then moan some of them. You’re interuppted with bliss as you try and use your voice for him. 

“My fuckin’ god.” Joel’s hips snap into yours— on accident or on purpose you’ll never know– but it feels like all of your bones buzzed all at the same time and every inch of your skin tickles for two seconds until he’s pulling himself away from your cervix and massaging that spot that’ll make you gush on him. You wonder in your euphoria filled brain if he’ll like that– you gushing on him like that and clench your walls down on him even tighter than you thought you could. 

Joel’s whole body jerks gently when you do that and he snaps himself forward again and buzzes your bones and tickles your skin again and it’s… not a terrible feeling. Definitely knew and something you’d have to get used to because when he does it you cannot think for a second after but when you regain your senses he’s already buzzin’ you again with the drooling tip of his cock. You want him to come inside you. Badly. You’ll be fine. It’s the twenty-first century. Emergency contraception works. But then you’re going on the pill so he can do it whenever the fuck he wants. 

“Come in…side me.” Your drawn out whimpering moan makes Joan groan loudly and he is trembling under your touch. You don’t even remember grabbing onto his biceps but you did, sometime during the buzzing you assume. Your fingernails are digging into him and you feel bad, so badly after knowing what you do, but he’s pumping into you quicker now. 

“Dear God.” Joel groans and closes his eyes tight. It feels so good making him do stuff like that. Hearing him moan your little pet name he made up for you. “You want it, Birdie?” His moans are deep and rumble like thunder when they come out of him. You can feel the vibrations from them in his arms. 

“Yeah… I want it…..Claim my pussy….I’m yours Daddy.” You’re keening the words up to him between gasps for air. Where did these high pitched sounds come from? You have never made such noises in your life…not even alone!! He is pushing them out of you as he thrusts inside of you but his sweating body is still trembling, like he is struggling… You think he wants to come, so you try and get him to. “Please Daddy…I beeee-oh fuck– I belong to you.” You whimper as he buzzes you once again. 

“How ya feelin’ Bird?” Joel groans and lets his head fall forward like he is exhausted. “Hu–Hurtin’ still?” He stutters as he withdraws from you slowly. 

“N-nononoo.” You whimper as he thrusts into once more and then holds himself against that blinding, body vibrating stop deep inside you. You’re silenced by this and staring up at him as he tilts his head up to look at you. 

“I gotta…” Joel hangs his head in shakes it in shame, panting softly. “I can’t anymore.” He is still panting and looking up at you again. 

“S-So c-come.” You stutter up to him as body and mind melting tremors course through you. 

“Not talkin’ ‘bout comin’ Birdie.” He adjusts his hands on the bed and rests for a second, wiping his sweat covered brow with the back of one of his hands. “Gotta while ‘fore I do that now…” He’s grinning down at you, his chest– also dripping sweat– is rising and falling as he tries to slow his puffing. “I gotta fuck ya.” He nods. 

“You are?” You can think… a little bit. Not much. 

“No. We’re makin’ love right now.” Joel admits with another shake of his head from side to side. “I wanna fuck you.” Joel nods now, up and down, quickly. “If ya can’t handle it… might gotta take a lil break.” He sighs. “Havin’ trouble controlin’ myself… don’t wanna hurt ya.” He sighs loudy and then hoots like he just has energy and sound inside of him he needs to expel. 

“Like… fuck me real hard?” You dunno. The buzzing. The buzzing is not terrible but it is a lot and he is still doing it right now. Pressing on that little button that lets you know he has arrived at your most inner location. 

“I’ll hold back a lil.” He reassures you but then adds. “Just gotta go harder’n this.” Joel sighs like he is disappointed with himself for having those needs inside of him but it’s kind of turning you on that he can’t control himself with you. Needs to take a break!? He is taking a break right now!

“You’ll stop–”

“Baaaaby.” Joel groans. “Don’t gotta ask. Of course.” He nods quickly. “Never fuckin’ hurt you. ‘Less you ask for it.” Joel snickers. “Then I will.” The tremors are turning into little itchy scratchies inside of you and not so much tickles and vibrations and alarms going off all over your whole body. No, this isn’t too bad. 

“Okay. Fuck me, Old man.” You nod up to him and Joel snickers to himself and leans all the way back so he is on his knees, holding you where your thighs meet your sides at your hip. Your legs are splayed out on either side of him. 

“You just give me a good whack right here–” Joel points to his forearm. “A good one. Don’t grab me, don’t tap. Whack me. I’ll stop n’ we can do it the other way.” He speaks firmly so you’re listing. You’re trying but, still twitching underneath him. He pulls his hips away from yours and you can relax. A deep sigh and almost– a feeling of being empty. Like you’re gaping now that he’s only at the entrance. “Whaddya got’a do?” Joel asks now, catching your watering eyes. 

“Whack.” You choke out after swallowing in a big, noisy gulp. You make Joel snort silently, just his body jerks softly and he smiles. 

“Yer’ pussy is fuckin immaculate, baby girl.” Joel sighs loudly and sinks his hips into yours. Your pubic hairs touch softly before he pulls away and then slams into you with a loud smack of his skin on your skin. 

“Jesus!” You exclaim but do not whack him because your whole body jolts back away from but then he is pulling you by where he has a grip dug into the soft skin on your lower sides where they dip into your leg. Another second long convulsion and flesh rippling titillation. Then another and another. More. It is endless. “Oh my go– Oh. Oh. Daddyyy.” You whine up to him with your eyes shut tight– your one eye hurts so bad but you do not care, the pleasure is everything you wanted it to be. This is amazing and perfect and you’re so glad it’s Joel. So glad he is the one doing this to you for the first time. “Th-Thank y-you.” You whimper as he really fucks you, his hips never slow down. Never cease their forceful driving into you. 

“Thank me again.” Joel barks an order to you through his pleasure. There is more sweat on his brow and he wipes it away with the back of his hand again and then grips you tighter. His chest is red and glistening as he focuses all of his energy and force on you. Right where your groins adjoin for half a second before he leaves and does it all over again. 

“Thank y-you Daddy Joel, fuck! Thank youthankyouu!!” There are tears in your eyes from the bumbling rapture inside of you. They’re rolling down the side of your face and…you might…be sobbing through your shrill, endless ululations as you tell him you’re coming. “It’s happening…. OH god… fuck Daddy… I’m gonna— I’m coming.” 

“Open yer’ fuckin’ eyes, lil girl.” Joel snaps down at you. “Open yer’ mouth.” You don’t even have to open your eyes to know that his mouth is pressed tightly together when he barks down at you. You manage to open them and look up into his eyes as your orgasm washes over you. You don’t even have to open your mouth because it is already hanging agape, waiting for him and what he loves to give you. 

It’s warm on your tongue and upper lip when you receive it both times. He doesn’t spit it this time, he drips it down to you as he slams his body against yours through your orgasm. You swallow it hungrily and then lick your lips to clean off what he over shot the first time. You gush staring up at him and now his jaw drops open and his rhythmic thrusting turn into sloppy, jagged jerking as your gushing juices send him to ecstasy filled release. 

“I’m gonna come,” Joel sighs breathlessly as his hips snap forward two more times and then he holds himself into you. “Fuck! S’mine. You're mine.” Joel nearly shouts down at you while he comes. Your gush flowing out against him as he does it. It’s dripping down the curve and crack of your ass and soaking the pillows below you. “Fuuck. Fuckk. Yer’ my gushin’ Princess.” Joel stutters once as he fills your pussy for the first time. “Daddy’s Princess.”

You do not fuck Joel all night. Your body gives out after that first good fuck. It’s disappointing but…Joel fucked the life out of you. You are dead against the mattress staring up at the ceiling. You honestly can’t even feel anything, your whole pussy is numb and it aches a little. He fucked you. Fucked you so good. He didn’t kill you with his cock, no…

Joel maybe ruined your life though, because how do you ever get fucked… not like that?  

Get fucked by anyone who is not by Mr. Daddy Joel Miller? No. 

He has done something horrible to you and now you want him to do more treacherous things to you. He might be evil , actually. This is what you get for praying to Satan all this time— as a JOKE . Then he sends you this evil man with a tongue that lashes at you in the best, and worst ways possible. 

Your evil, sonofabitch boyfriend is moaning as he sucks his release out of your cunt, licking at your walls now that he has gaped you with his fucking monster cock– what the fuck? It didn’t look as big as it fucking felt inside you.. 

Joel is laying with his head between your legs. He’s been down there this whole time. Just… licking. It’s been… maybe forty-five minutes since he fucked you for the first time. His hands roam across your stomach and caress you gently. His tongue smears his come along your cunt and clit as he swirls around it. It’s the only part of your pussy that feels good anymore. Sucking and lapping at your dripping and gaping hole like he is desperately trying to get back what he gave to you.

“Ohhh.” Is all you have the energy to say. You can only hum a happy, pleasing sound to him and your hand lazily finds his hair and you twirl your fingers around in it mindlessly as he licks you. He’s not even trying to make you come, not even teasing you… just collecting. And once he has his mouth full, he climbs over your lifeless body and nods his chin for you to open your mouth. You do.  

You stare at him the entire time he leans down and spits into your mouth, not letting you do anything before his mouth is on yours. The mix of your gush and his bitter release does something to give you life. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him to you as your tongues pass that blend of the both of you back and forth. 

Once you're done with all that– you’re looking at him standing at the edge of your bed. You still haven’t moved. Haven’t been able to. 

“We’re good?” Joel asks seriously. 

“What?” You close your eyes and try to imagine an ice pack on your pussy. 

“You still wanna be with me?” Joel sounds nervous. You cannot even open your eyes to look at that stupid slut. 

“Yes.” You snap at him sleepily. “Shut up. You’re the slut.” You point one, almost ded hand at him. 

“What!?” Joel sounds so shocked. “I’m not!” Now he’s offended. You do open your eyes and look at him now. 

“You’re the slut.” You bark at him and then close your eyes again and talk mostly to yourself. “Fucks like that n’ says he’s not a slut? Fuckin’ lair.” You grumble and roll over onto your side. “Slutty old man.” You are so tired. 

“Because I’ve been with a couple ladies??” Joel exclaims and crawls onto the bed beside you. “I’m not a slut.” 

“You are. Callin’ me a slut the first time we hung out. Mr. I Been With Ladies.” You mock him and he chuckles but it sounds like he didn’t really want to. 

“I only been with you since I met ya. Didn’t give my number out.” Joel teases you back and touches your sides. 

“You’re still a slut and we’re talking in the morning about why you didn’t just leave your ex-wife.” You snap, remembering that you are still actually kind of angry with him. 

“Uuuggghhh.” Joel groans loudly. “I’ll fuckin’ tell ya right now. Then we’re never talkin’ ‘bout her ass again, got it?” He snaps at you. 

“Dish.” You snap back. 

“We got married ‘fore I started my company. I was worried she was gon’ try an’ take all of it. Bankrupt me. Take my house. Eventually– I was worried she’d leave with Sarah. So I just let her hit me.” Joel is… not yelling but he is– excited? Speaking quickly and with gusto. “I was too embarrassed to ask for help, Birdie... Who could help me? Who was I gon’ fuckin' ask? My mom is dead. My dad should'a been, at that point. Tommy is just barely done bein’ a kid… so? I stayed. N’ I fucked up.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper shyly.

“Don’t fuckin’ be sorry fer' me, you didn’t fuckin' do shit!” Joel exclaims and then his eyes soften. “I’m sorry. I get loud when I’m angry, I’ll work on that shit too. Jesus Christ.” Joel looks at the floor. “No one knows ‘bout my ex. Just her and I. I never told anyone else. Not even Tommy or Sarah.” Joel turns his head to look at you. “Like to keep it that way.”

“Why…not tell people what she did? So they know?” You wrinkle your nose. 

“‘Cause then they’ll know I did it to her. N’ all they’ll see is me… hittin’ his wife. Even though it was only once n’ barely a tap– I did it. I hit her, n’ I hate myself fer’ that.” He admits sadly. “Our dad was fucked up towards the end, but he raised us better than that.” 

“What…was wrong with—” You start but Joel shakes his head. 

“Not gettin’ into that… not now. Maybe not ever. It just wasn’t good. Real bad. He struggled.” Joel says curtly. 

“Alright… I also had an asshole dad, too—” You start but he cuts you off quickly and with a sharp tongue

“My dad wasn’t a fuckin’ asshole, got it?” Joel narrows his eyes on yours. “Not an asshole. I can’t talk ‘bout it, Bird. I don’t like to.” 

“I don’t like talking about my Dad but it fuckin’ helps.” You roll your eyes at him. “Not keepin’ all that shit in…kinda fucking helps sometimes. So, maybe you should go see a therapist. I talk to one all the time.” 

“I’m not goin’ to see no fuckin’ shrink.” Joel scoffs again. He's such a fucking man. Ugh. 

“Whatever. You don’t have to, but it does help and it is good for you. I meant what I said last night… I won’t let you aplogize next time if you ever speak to me like that again…” 

“I know… but now we gotta talk ‘bout something else…” Joel sighs and turns to you. "I was gonna bring it up...n' then you said you were a virgin...n' I thought I was gon' scare you away if I told you the things I like...'cause I don't need 'em. Not at all. I just like 'em...and they're not all...nice." He speaks cautiously-- the taming a rabid animal voice is back and you're shaking.

“What?” You groan but he places his hand on your thigh besides your bruised hand. You almost pull away but it's hard to resist the warmth of him. He's...so handsome. His brown eyes are locked on to yours, his hair is all messy from getting pulled and tugged on by you-- it's sticking in all directions and you have to stop yourself from smirking. He didn't clean up his facial hair at all this morning before work, so he's scruffier than normal. You could reach out and touch him, but it's hard because he's going to tell you scary things right now.

“The things I like can get a lil…” He pauses and searches for the word he needs to use. “Bein’ on the receiving end of what I like can fuck with yer’ head sometimes… if you don’t know yer’ cared for or get mistreated. I do care ‘bout ya. N' I'm sorry 'bout last night.” Joel stresses this point. 

“Okay…” You’re hesitant because what the fuck is your slutty, evil boyfriend talking about. Are you going to have to kick him in the chest like Jackie Harris that one time? Break up with him?

“I like ya more n’ more every day– but I am jus’ a big, strong guy that wants to Dominate ya.”

“Like you have been?” You ask and Joel nods, adding to your statement.

 “N’ then I wanna take ya out… treat ya — ‘cause I can and like to … I call ya sweet things so you know that when I say that— eh, it’s not a show..or fake. I like makin’ you feel all cute n’ special– cause you are, but also ‘cause s’just what I like…”

“Uh… then what?” You blink and swallow audibly. 

“I turn ‘round n’ humiliate you while my cocks inside you.” Joel says simply. “Make you feel naughty n’ dirty. Use yer’ lil fuckin’ pussy however I want, use you. Be real mean to ya sometimes…”

“This is an excuse so you can yell at me?” You roll your eyes and almost think about telling him to leave but he rubs the outside of his pinky against yours. 

“Never. I’m gon’ work on that. I will. Gettin’ angry n’ sayin’ mean shit. I will.” Joel speaks so calmly and evenly. “I just wanna call ya names in the bedroom. Do naughty stuff in there… sometimes let it playfully carry into our relationship too”

“Like? I need you to expla—” Joel hooks his pinky with yours and looks down at it. 

“Remember my promise to you?” He asks quietly. You nod. “Keep that in mind n’ know… that’s how I wanna treat you ninety-nine percent of the time.” 

“The other one perce--?” You ask fearfully but he cuts you off and is ready to tell you.

“Call you terrible fuckin' things, worthless n’ stupid.” Joel whispers softly. “Spit on ya. Fuck you real hard n’ fill your holes– all of ‘em.” His eyes never leave yours. “Fuck you anywhere…everywhere I want.” Joel is still so calm. 

You’re fuckin’ trembling. This sounds..equal parts horrifying and also incredible. Sexy and scary. Right up your alley— dark and horrifying alley. 

“What if I don’t want that? Getting called fuckin’ stupid every day?” You wrinkle your nose. That sounds like it could be... tiring? Mentally? But, you're not stupid and...have a therapist. So, this is something you might explore but... you dunno.

“Don’t gotta. We can just keep doin’ what we’re doin’. I'm used to it bein' normal." Joel shrugs his shoulders. "I enjoy this though. Don't need it-- like it. Like exploring. Like pushin' mine and yer' boundaries... s'kinky." Joel nods then frowns "I haven't been with many who like it-- s'why I'm used to it normal, lil rough. Nothin' craz--"

“Slut!” You snap, cutting him off and Joel snickers softly. 

“Maybe… not anymore though.” He smirks. “I just wanna fuckin’ ruin you, baby girl. Only you.” Joel Miller whispers this to you and your pussy (you thought it was broken, really broken) twinges when he says it. “I mean it. I like it rough…but if you’d let me. I’d like to… try things with ya. Keep showin' you things like I have been.” 

“What if I don’t like some of the things you show me?” Your interest outweighs your fear. 

“‘Kay, now yer’ asking good questions…” He smirks at you and pulls your hand into his lap by your pinky. “Yer’ in control in all this, babe.” He nods. “You don’t like it, I stop. I like watchin’ ya squirm n’ cry… but for the right reasons. I don’t wanna…really hurt you— I do. I wanna spank ya and whip yer’ ass ‘till its red. Smack ya a ‘round a lil…fuck you real good when I do it. Make ya feel good, give you pleasure with yer' pain, baby.” His voice is so comforting that it’s calming even listening talk about he wants to mildly abuse you in the bedroom. 

“I have to decide right now?” You blink at him. 

“You..don’t ever gotta decide nothin’. I like that shit, but I’m not gon’ die without it. I'm just warnin’ ya so I don’t take things too far…on accident or… in misunderstanding.” He leans in and kisses you on the forehead gently. 

“Okay… we can talk about things first, always?” You look up at him and he’s already nodding his head. 

“Do you wanna change outta that lil white thang and go to bed? We’ll getcha coffee and a new phone in the morning?” He whispers. 

“Yeah.”

Then Joel undresses you and gives you the comfiest pair of shorts out of your dresser. Then this stupid, evil Red Devil goes into his ‘spend the night bag’ and gets you a clean t-shirt of his to wear. 

“I have some…” You whisper up to him, but he motions for you to lift your arms and he slips it on for you. 

“I know. Don’t care– want you in this.” He leans down and kisses your lips softly and for a long time before he runs upstairs and performs his little night time routine here at your house. Checking all the doors and windows. 

Joel is…actually perfect? No. He’s angry and is a dick and is making up for that. Unless you already forgave him? You dunno. You honestly can’t even care because you’re asleep before Joel even comes back.

The next morning is interesting. It takes a lot of convincing from your boyfriend. 

“Just for me.” He nods. You shake your head. “My. Eyes. Only.” He nods. 

“Why?” You’re smirking.

“Picture it, okay?” Joel stands besides you and holds his hand out in front of him like he’s trying to get you to see what he’s seeing. “Me…in my truck at work…watchin’ it..thinkin’ ‘bout you… touching mysel—”

“You do that at work!?” You exclaim. He chuckles and smacks your ass. 

“Uh, if I had this yes– I would.” He is already getting his phone out of his jeans from last night. 

“No one’s gonna see it?” You blink at him. Joel scoffs. 

“I’m not sharin’ this with anyone. You fuckin’ nuts?” He pulls a chair up to the end of the bed and messes around with his phone. ‘S’fer me. Me alone.” 

Now, Joel is laying in bed with you. He’s behind you with your back to his chest. Your legs are spread over his and his hard cock is pressed against your back. You're grinding yourself against him, massaging his cock between your bodies as his fingers work on your clit. 

“You like this naughty shit?” he asks softly in your ear. You nod and can only focus on breathing heavily, trying not to look directly into his phone that he set up on a chair at the end of the bed. “Say it.” He growls in your ear. His two thickest and longest fingers are just circling your clit slowly and lazily. 

“I like being naughty, Daddy.” You mewl quietly. Joel’s other hand is gripping one of your tits and thumbing the stiff peak as he rocks his hips up against you gently, moving his body against yours as you drag your body up and down against his slightly. Just an inch or two in each direction. Giving Joel just enough pressure and friction and movement on his throbbing cock between your ass and on your lower back. 

“You like that I need this?” Joel growls, moving his head to the other side of yours now, kissing across your shoulder and up your neck as your sweating bodies glide across each other. “ Gotta have you like this in my pocket, lil girl.” Joel whispers. “So I can see this pretty pussy.” While Joel speaks rubs all four fingers across your cunt slowly. 

“I love it.” You moan softly. 

“You want Daddy to give your pussy a good slap?” He coos in your ear. Honestly, not really. But, you’re going to let him do whatever he wants to you. 

“Please don’t hurt me, Daddy.” You whine nervously. Is he gonna smack it like he did your ass? Joel’s breath hitches in his chest and you feel it happen behind you. His hips buck up into your back gently. “Slap it soft. ” You whisper. Joel sighs and rubs your clit quickly with his four stiff fingers– so quickly. He’s putting so much effort into it, his body stiffens below yours and he leans forward slightly to put more pressure behind his rubbing. 

You are moaning and writhing, eyes closed as he quickly brings you right to that edge. When you’re almost there he pulls his hand away and swiftly brings them down onto your red, slick and puffy cunt lips. It focuses it to the top of your mound where your nerve bundle is. It is a different sensation. The hard, fast, sudden pressure and shock of the slap on your clit makes you moan, it doesn't even hurt at all. 

“Do it again, Daddy.” You press yourself into him and turn your head so your closed eyes are pressed into his neck as he leans over you the best he can. 

“Awhh, the cute, pathetic, lil girl likes gettin’ her pussy slapped? Course you do, ya naughty lil bitch.” Joel laughs softly. "Look at the camera, talk to it." He growls into your ear and gives your mound another soft smack and it’s wet and audible. You turn your head forward and rest it against his shoulder as he lens in and presses his lips to your cheek, kissing you softly. Then he gives you another tight rasp on your pussy. And another. He’s doing it so rapidly, slapping and swatting your clit and not hard enough to hurt, it’s…so good? So fucking good for some reason. Joel and you are still working together, your glistening bodies sliding and slipping against each other. 

“Fuck. I do like it.” You murmur to the camera, your eyes are still clenched and now, you're rocking your hips up to meet his quick, noisy— more than patting but he’s not spanking your cunt like he did last night. The force all comes from his wrist, not his shoulder. It’s incredible and almost reminds you of his shower head but not as wet or warm. Joel growls softly against your cheek and presses his forehead to the side of your skull with slight force. 

"Louder. I wanna hear it." He snaps softly into the soft skin just below your cheekbone. He is grinding up into your back. "I wanna hear you fuckin' say it. Mean it." It's so fierce when he says it, that it almost startles you but... you just talked about all this so you know it's...just a thing. Not mean, not scary. 

"I fuckin' love when you spank my cunt, Daddy. So fuckin' much." You speak with force and it comes out in moans as he chuckles against your cheek and rubs your clit now in between those little, tight rasps of his fingers against you.

"There it is..." Joel kisses your cheek softly as his own moans start to slip from his mouth as he holds you around the waist with his other arm now, moving your body up and down against the front of him. You can feel his movements becoming more desperate as you stroke his cock with ever single move you make. 

"Oh fuck...yes...please don't... stop.The light breeze he makes with his fingers gives you goosebumps on your inner thigh as your legs begin to tremble. “I think– oh god– I… think–” You’re cut off and choked by pleasure as that real bliss and ‘letting go’ feeling builds. 

“Yep. Do it. Gush for Daddy, baby. I wanna see it.” Joel moans loudly as your body moves against him more desperately, searching for more than just his slapping fingers even though he is bringing you there doing that. “C’mon baby. Yer' such a naughty fuckin' girl. Such a pathetic, lil, gushin' girl.” He whispers in your ear. "Yer' fuckin' amazing." The fact that he wants a video of you doing that so he can watch whenever he wants is what sends you there– it’s what makes you gush. 

He gets a clear shot of it happening as his abuse of your clit never ends. He spanks your pussy through your gush and sometimes his fingers slip down so he can touch it as it comes out of you. You’re still moving against him, now shaking and moaning loudly against his neck. You can feel his body working against yours for his own release and you push back against him to give him more pressure. When you do that, he groans softly and pulls his hand away from your spasming pussy. Then his fingers are inside your mouth. 

“Suck.” He moans as his body jerks underneath yours. You lap at his fingers hungrily and taste yourself on him and moan softly. You part his digits with your tongue and run it down the length of each extremity in your mouth, swirling and lapping at his knuckles and then flicking your tongue against the web between his fingers. You’re doing this and Joel is coming between the two of you. His release is trapped between his stomach and your back. “Such a fuckin’ good girl.” 

Joel sits you up and crawls from behind you and grabs his phone off the chair at the end of the bed. He sits beside you and starts to play the video. 

“I don’t wanna watch that. It’s for you.” You roll your eyes as the sounds of your moaning and whimpering fill the room. It makes you blush as Joel teases his cock again, watching what you two just did. He gets halfway through it with a big dumb smile on his face before he turns it off and turns his smile to you now. 

“Why? S’hot as hell. Jeeesus. Yer’ fuckin’ naughty n’ sexy. I like it.” Joel smirks and leans down to kiss you. “We’re makin’ more.” He teases. 

“Fine. I like seeing you—” You point at his face and then to his stomach covered in his milky release. “-- smiling and covered in cum. So, fine.” You blush and he touches your cheek gently.

“I want to do the naughtiest things with you.” Joel whispers. You blink. 

“Like what?” You pur up to him as he rubs his thumb across your lips gently. 

“You’ll see.”

(sorry it took me so long, i'll try and be better.)

tag list: @immyowndefender @korikolove @untamedheart81 @fanficlover1414, @creepycorbeaux @ohmillerbaby @rosebuds-and-moonlight @harriedandharassed

[makeyoumine69]

Hello dear people in my beloved American Psycho fandom! I couldn't force myself to write this post because I didn't know how to do it, but I think now is the right time. I promised myself not to bring personal stuff into my writing, but since one thing affects another, I think I should finally speak up.

This year started pretty bad for me, I was suffering from a huge apathy and my mental health was probably in the worst state in the last few years. I had to cut ties with a lot of people and distance myself, and I'm really sorry for doing that, but I had no choice because I was literally dying from the inside. When I came back to Tumblr in 2022, I was absolutely alone and I had no friends, no followers and in some ways I felt calm and peaceful. I always thought and probably still think that I should be alone and isolated from everyone, like a soulless writing machine just producing fanfictions for people to consume. Maybe this is not a bad thing, because interacting with people always carries the risk of getting bruised?

Anyway, the thing that broke me completely was the news I received in the last days of January that I would be fired in February because my company decided to close the project I was working on due to the high inflation and bad economic situation in Russia. So now I have to find a job within February because I have a lot of financial responsobilities like paying for the medical treatment my family is getting. My grandmother was diagnosed with kidney cancer and her surgery was paid for by me and my fiancé, but the medicine costs a lot, so… after I told my mom about my news, she blamed me for everything. I was not really surprised though, considering that I have been having fights with my whole family for the past few months over different topics, but mostly they hate me for my political opinions. Whenever I say that I am tired of the war, sanctions and all the other stuff that 2022 has brought, they call me a fucking traitor. My family is ready to cancel me just because I told them I was tired of living in isolation, that I had even forgotten what my life was like before the war. My fiancé is literally the only person in my family who supports me, and even though I'm going to lose my job, he told me he would do anything for me, for us, but I don't want to be a burden. I'm really scared about the future, I think I really am now.

So, I'm sorry for not finishing the Christmas fics I promised to post, I'll try to finish them soon. Also, I'm sorry for not being active with fulfilling the requests and replying to your asks. I'm really sorry. And I know some of you might think that why I keep writing new series and working on different stuff while I have WIPs I need to finish—I'm just trying to follow my muse and I can say that it's really unstable these days, but I'm really trying to do my best and deliver something good for all of you!

I also want to thank all of you who have supported me with your donations! It means the world to me! Unfortunately, my account on the platform I was using for donations has been suspended because of… DOLLARS! They think I'm a scammer or something because the dollar is such a cursed currency in Russia right now, so I don't know if they'll unban my account, I hope they will.

Okay, that was longer than I thought it would be. To end this crazy rant, I just want to thank you guys for sticking with me no matter how fucked up I might be! I believe that one day I will find my way back to myself so that I can come back strong and refreshed!

[onegayastronaut]

Quiet Strengths

Requested by anon: Can I request a fic where reader is autistic and shy but has a crush on Alex? Maybe she's the little sister of Lucy and Lois Lane?

Words: 2277

Alex Danvers wasn’t supposed to notice you. At least, that’s what you told yourself every time you saw her. You had convinced yourself that someone as brave, intelligent, and confident as her could never have a reason to look your way. But here she was, in the middle of the DEO’s bustling operations room, walking straight toward you with a warm smile.

You’d been working there for a couple of months, quietly carving out a place as the DEO’s go-to analyst for obscure alien tech. It wasn’t glamorous, but it suited you—your meticulous attention to detail and fascination with patterns made you uniquely good at it. It also meant you could avoid the high-intensity fieldwork that Alex seemed to thrive on. Watching her from a distance felt safe. Approachable. But now, she was closing that distance, and your heart thudded in your chest like a drum.

“Hey, Y/N,” Alex greeted, her voice cutting through the hum of background chatter. “Got a second?”

You nodded, swallowing hard. Words felt like an uphill climb most days, especially with someone like Alex. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, your hands fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Alex’s smile widened, and you had to fight the urge to look away. Her presence was magnetic, overwhelming in a way that left you both exhilarated and frozen.

“Great,” she said, holding out a tablet. “We recovered this from a raid earlier, but none of our usual techies can make sense of it. J’onn said you’re the best person for the job.”

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment. “Oh. Um, okay. I can take a look.”

“Thanks,” Alex said, and for a moment, her gaze lingered on you. “I’m glad you’re here. You’ve been a huge help lately.”

You blinked, taken aback. Compliments weren’t something you knew how to handle, and coming from Alex, they felt like rare treasures. You mumbled a quiet “thank you” and took the tablet, focusing on the device to avoid meeting her eyes again.

“If you need anything, let me know,” Alex added before walking away, leaving you rooted in place, your mind buzzing with her words.

It wasn’t the first time Alex had complimented you, nor was it the first time she’d made an effort to talk to you. But every interaction left you more certain of one thing: you had a massive crush on her.

You hadn’t told anyone, not even your sisters, Lois and Lucy. They’d always been your champions, fierce and protective in their love for you, but the idea of confessing your feelings for Alex felt too vulnerable. Lois would probably tease you mercilessly, and Lucy—well, Lucy would likely try to set you up, which sounded mortifying.

Instead, you kept your feelings locked away, channeling your energy into deciphering alien tech. It was easier to focus on circuits and coding than the whirlwind of emotions Alex stirred in you.

One evening, after a particularly long day, Lois called. You were curled up on your couch, poring over schematics from the tablet Alex had given you, when your phone buzzed. You hesitated before answering. Lois had a knack for picking up on your moods, and you weren’t sure you were ready for her to pry.

“Hey, kiddo,” she said, her voice cheerful but tinged with concern. “How’s work?”

“It’s good,” you replied, keeping your tone light. “Busy, but good.”

“Uh-huh,” Lois said, clearly unconvinced. “And how’s Alex?”

You nearly dropped the phone. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Oh, come on,” Lois teased. “Lucy told me you’ve been working with her a lot. She’s great, isn’t she?”

“She’s… fine,” you mumbled, your face burning. “She’s nice.”

“Nice?” Lois repeated, laughing. “Y/N, you’re terrible at hiding things. Do you like her?”

“Lois!” you protested, your voice rising an octave. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” Lois said, clearly amused. “Just… don’t overthink it, okay? You’re amazing, and if she doesn’t see that, it’s her loss.”

Her words stayed with you long after the call ended, a small seed of confidence taking root in your chest.

A few days later, you were in the lab, engrossed in analyzing the tablet Alex had given you. The device was unlike anything you’d seen before, its interface a mesmerizing web of glowing symbols. You were so focused that you didn’t hear Alex enter until she was standing right beside you.

“Any luck?” she asked, startling you enough to make you drop the stylus in your hand.

“Oh! Um, yes,” you stammered, quickly picking up the stylus. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”

Alex chuckled. “Didn’t mean to scare you. You looked pretty deep in thought.”

“It’s… fascinating,” you admitted, your voice gaining confidence as you gestured to the tablet. “The tech is… well, it’s not like anything we’ve seen before. It’s modular, adaptable. I think it’s designed to interface with other systems, but I’m still figuring out the specifics.”

Alex leaned in to look at the screen, and you caught a faint whiff of her perfume—something crisp and clean that made your stomach flutter. “That sounds like it could be really useful,” she said. “Do you think it’s dangerous?”

“Not… not inherently,” you replied, your words careful. “But it depends on who’s using it. It could be a tool or a weapon.”

Alex’s expression turned thoughtful. “Good to know. Let me know if you need more resources. Or if you just want to bounce ideas around.”

You nodded, trying to ignore the way her offer made your heart soar. “Thanks. I will.”

She smiled again, that same warm, genuine smile that seemed to light up the room. “You’re doing great, Y/N. Really.”

For a moment, you dared to meet her eyes, and the sincerity you saw there made your chest tighten. You managed another quiet “thank you” before she left, leaving you to wonder how someone as incredible as Alex could make you feel so seen.

Your opportunity to say something came sooner than you expected. A week later, the DEO was hosting a small celebration for a successful mission, and to your surprise, Alex sought you out amid the crowd.

“Hey,” she said, holding out a drink. “Thought you might like some company.”

You hesitated, then accepted the drink with a shy smile. “Thanks. I’m not… really good at these things.”

“Neither am I,” Alex admitted, leaning against the wall beside you. “Big crowds aren’t exactly my thing.”

You glanced at her, surprised. “Really? You always seem so… confident.”

Alex laughed softly. “Trust me, it’s mostly an act. I’m way more comfortable when I’m working.”

You nodded, understanding all too well. “Me too. It’s easier when there’s… structure. Predictability.”

“Exactly,” Alex said, her tone warm with understanding. She looked at you, her gaze steady. “You’re easy to talk to, you know that?”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down at your drink. “I… don’t usually feel that way.”

“Well, you are,” Alex said, her voice soft but firm. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. Not just at the DEO, but… here. With me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the words. Finally, you mustered the courage to look at her. “I… I’m glad too.”

Alex smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. As the evening wore on, Alex stayed by your side, her presence a calming anchor in the bustling crowd. She asked about your work, genuinely curious about the projects you were passionate about, and you found yourself opening up in ways that surprised you.

“So, what do you do for fun?” Alex asked, her tone light but interested.

You hesitated, unsure how much to share. “Um, I like puzzles. And building models. Stuff like that.”

“That makes sense,” Alex said with a grin. “You’ve got a brilliant mind. I bet you’re amazing at solving puzzles.”

“I guess,” you said, ducking your head. “It’s… relaxing. Predictable.”

Alex nodded. “I get that. It’s nice to have something you can control, especially when everything else feels chaotic.”

You glanced at her, surprised by how much she seemed to understand. “Yeah. Exactly.”

The conversation flowed easily after that, and for the first time in a long while, you felt truly at ease. When the night ended, Alex walked you to your car, her hand brushing yours as she said goodbye.

“See you tomorrow?” she asked, her voice soft.

“Yeah,” you replied, your heart thudding in your chest. “See you tomorrow.”

Alex lingered for a moment, her gaze searching yours as if she wanted to say something more. But then she smiled—a quiet, sincere smile that made your breath catch—and stepped back. You watched her walk away, the faint warmth of her presence still lingering like a comforting echo.

The following days passed in a haze of tentative hope and quiet longing. Alex’s words and actions lingered in your mind, each small interaction leaving you wondering if she might feel the same way you did. She continued to seek you out during breaks, her questions and interest in your work feeling genuine and steady. It wasn’t just about the tech or the DEO anymore—she wanted to know you.

One afternoon, you were working in the lab when Alex appeared again, carrying two cups of coffee. She handed you one with a smile. “Thought you could use a pick-me-up.”

“Oh, thanks,” you said, taking the cup with a shy smile. “You didn’t have to.”

“Sure I did,” Alex said, leaning casually against the table. “You’ve been working nonstop. Consider it a thank-you for being amazing.”

Your face heated at her words, and you took a sip of coffee to hide your flustered expression. “I’m just… doing my job.”

“You’re doing more than that,” Alex said firmly, her tone laced with admiration. “You’re brilliant, Y/N. I don’t know how the DEO managed before you came along.”

Her compliment sent a warm rush through you, but it also left you feeling exposed. You fidgeted with the edge of your sweater, your thoughts racing. “I… I’m not good at taking compliments,” you admitted quietly.

Alex’s expression softened. “That’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. Just know that I mean it.”

For a moment, the room felt smaller, the distance between you shrinking as Alex’s gaze held yours. The weight of unspoken feelings hung in the air, and you wondered if she could hear the rapid beating of your heart.

“Alex, I…” You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. “I want to say… thank you. For being so kind. And patient.”

“Of course,” Alex said gently. “I like being around you, Y/N. You’re… special.”

Her words filled you with a mixture of joy and fear. Did she mean it the way you hoped? Or was she simply being kind? The uncertainty gnawed at you, but before you could overthink, Alex reached out, her hand brushing yours.

“Can I ask you something?” she said, her voice soft.

You nodded, barely trusting yourself to speak.

“Would you want to grab dinner sometime? Just the two of us?”

Your breath hitched. The room seemed to tilt as her question registered. “Like… like a date?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Alex’s lips curved into a smile, her eyes warm and steady. “Yeah. Like a date.”

A quiet gasp escaped you, and for a moment, all you could do was nod. “I’d like that,” you managed, your voice trembling but sure.

Alex’s smile widened, and she squeezed your hand gently before pulling back. “Great. How about tomorrow night?”

“Okay,” you said, a small, nervous laugh bubbling up. “Tomorrow night.”

The hours leading up to your date felt like an eternity. You second-guessed everything—your outfit, your choice of conversation topics, even your decision to agree in the first place. But when Alex showed up at your door, her easy smile and casual confidence melted away your nerves.

“You look amazing,” she said, her gaze warm and admiring.

“Th-thank you,” you stammered, feeling the blush creep up your neck.

The evening was a quiet, intimate affair—a cozy restaurant with dim lighting and a menu that catered to your preferences. Alex made you laugh with stories about Kara’s antics and listened intently as you shared your own quirks and passions. For the first time, you felt like someone truly saw you, not just as a brilliant analyst but as a person.

As the night drew to a close, Alex walked you back to your apartment. The air was cool, the city lights casting a soft glow over the street. She stopped just outside your door, her hands in her pockets as she turned to face you.

“I had a great time tonight,” she said, her voice earnest.

“Me too,” you replied, your heart pounding.

Alex hesitated, then stepped closer, her gaze searching yours. “Can I kiss you?”

Your breath caught, and for a moment, all you could do was nod. Alex leaned in, her lips brushing yours in a soft, tentative kiss that made the world fade away. When she pulled back, her smile was radiant, her eyes filled with something you could only describe as joy.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” she said softly.

“Goodnight,” you whispered, watching as she walked away, your heart full in a way it had never been before.

In that moment, you realized that maybe—just maybe—Alex Danvers wasn’t just someone you admired from afar. She was someone who saw you, understood you, and wanted to be with you. And for the first time, you let yourself believe that you were worthy of that kind of love.

[doodler16]

The pride month art showing Chaz with the ‘I’ll f*ck anything’ sign with the pan flag is so weird, especially next to all the bi flag characters. I know lots of people don’t really understand how bisexuality works because of the misinformation around, but anyways, all the bi characters being ones that seek monogamous relationships, and then the pan characters being the loud horny ones, is sort of weird. It’s like they think being pan means being just interested in sex in general. That’s ignoring that pan is just under the bi umbrella anyways so it’s not really that different and they’re treating it like the ‘we don’t have standards we just like anything and we’re sooo freaky lol’ label.

I’m guessing in this context they’re trying to use the bi label as ‘I have different preferences between the genders that I date’ rather than ‘I just like more than one gender and I don’t care about using the pan microlabel’ and so the pan flag on the other characters is being used to show that they do not have any preference, even tho being bi doesn’t mean you necessarily have any difference in how ur attracted to different genders? (Being bi doesn’t mean ur not into non-binary genders but idek if vivz gets that)

sooo ok whatever the ‘attracted to multiple genders’ sexualities are being used specifically to differentiate their preferences even though they are similar, we’re using hyper specific labels, okay. And that would be fine but almost each pan character is, again, the horny ‘I’ll fuck anything’ characters. Blitzo is seen as being non-committed and has a body count of at least 50+ and is scared of love, Chaz is just constantly talking about sex, Bee is decent tbh cause she is written to have an actual relationship and not a stereotype even tho she is.. the sin of gluttony and you could argue that THAT might have been a factor in deciding her sexuality.., and while Asmodeus also has a real relationship, him being the sin of lust and ‘therefore he must feel attraction to all genders without preference’ is weird imo. I can’t tell but I think Verosika is also pan? And of course the succubus is pansexual, cause pan is just the ‘I like sex’ label apparently.

Ofc this is a greater problem than just Helluva. Pansexuality is sort of treated as a separate sexuality from being bi, and then gets labelled onto the promiscuous characters without the writers (or people in general) understanding that that is not how sexuality works. Being lustful or a sexually driven person may inspire you to be more open about what you do in the bedroom or who you explore with, but it doesn’t literally make you want to sleep with anything that moves, and being pan doesn’t even mean that you’d ‘fuck ANYTHING’, and being pan does not mean that you’re somehow more horny than a bi person (cause pan just means ur bi without preference, it’s up to the person how they define it really but it is literally just a microlabel of bisexuality).

Basically I feel like Vivz is using bisexuality and pansexuality as ‘I like more than one gender but I’m monogamous’ vs ‘I like more than one gender but only because I’m desperate for sex and have no standards/greedy’ the same way so many people just have re-labelled biphobia rhetoric and places it onto a ‘new’ sexuality. Being bi has always been seen as being greedy or just being kinky and wanted threesomes, rather than the ability to be attracted to more than one gender, and now that’s projected onto pansexuality which is just bi with added specificity

The only reason I can tell a character is pansexual is when they mention how many people they want to fuck, etc. That’s the only reason I know Valentino and Husk are pansexual 💀

[gingiesworld]

Untitled Drabble

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: TW: Suicide, character death, not a happy one

AN: If you are uncomfortable or triggered with reading things associated with the warnings topic, feel free to miss this one. Also remember to talk to someone if you ever have feelings or thoughts similar to what's in this drabble. Also remember to keep on fighting, you are stronger than you know. Although this is going to be my only post for a while, I am not entirely sure when I will definitely be coming back. But remember your feelings matter, as do you.

MINORS DNI 18+

It had been months since the accident, since Y/N had lost their entire world, struggling with grief and purpose. Always putting on a smile and a brave face for everyone of their friends and family. Little did they know what lies beneath the fake smiles.

Y/N was always one who struggled with expressing their feelings, always answering everyone with “I’m okay.” But no one really saw the pain behind their eyes, the emptiness that they felt, the lack of purpose they had felt. That’s why they had written letters, hidden them away in the drawer of their night stand.

Every night, for months without fail they went out, heading towards the one place where they felt they had belonged, after drowning themselves in booze or drugs, hoping to get rid of the pain somehow, but nothing had truly worked, the pain they had felt only grew day by day, becoming unbearable. Although one night on their walk, they had reached their limit. Sitting on the edge, overlooking the overpass, watching as cars and trucks passed by underneath, wanting to finally be free, they rose to their feet, their heartbeat increasing slightly, although they had found peace in that moment, free of the pain as they stepped off of the ledge.

It was the middle of the night when Wanda had gotten the call, lying peacefully asleep beside her husband before the phone rang. Once she had heard the words she feared the most, the loss of her best friend. Jarvis was quick to pick up the phone once she had dropped it, finishing the call before wrapping his arm around his wife, trying to console her.

As the days went on, preparations for their funeral were ongoing, but Y/N’s mom had asked for Wanda’s help in finding their suit, the one they had bought for the wedding that was cancelled. Once she had the suit hanging, she had took a moment to gather herself as she sat on Y/N’s side of the bed, her eyes soon fell on the nightstand, the drawer slightly ajar, her curiosity peaked as she opened it, revealing sealed envelopes, addressed to different people, although she had come across one addressed to her. With shaky hands, she opened the envelope nervously, her eyes soon drawn to their handwriting. She had always admired their penmanship, seeing how neatly they had written in cursive. She chuckled at the memory of them telling her that they hate writing in print, always telling her you can see how much effort had gone into the words just by the neat handwriting. She then took a deep breath before reading it.

Wanda,

I’m sorry to be telling you this in a letter, but I am not okay, as you already know if you’re reading this letter. I tried to carry on, taking everyone’s word that it gets easier in time, but in truth it has only gotten worse. The pain has become too overwhelming, I have tried talking to someone about it but the words just get stuck, it’s like I know what I want to say, but on another note, I don’t know how. I don’t know how I’m supposed to carry on, I just don’t have the will to keep fighting anymore. I feel like I am drowning, in my own grief and the thoughts that come with it, but there have been moments where I don’t feel a thing, not a single thing. I don’t even recognise myself anymore, and I hate the person that I have become. I had become the liar that I never was, because everytime I said that I was okay, I was barely holding on. I hope that you can have the life you have always wanted and I know you will get through this, because you have people to help you, you have people who give you purpose, especially those two boys of yours.

I just want you to know that I am at ease now, I’m no longer drowning in my own pain, I have found peace. But most of all, I want to thank you for being the best friend that anyone could ask for. You were truly more than I deserved and I will always love you for that.

Y/N/N

No one truly knows what others are fighting, whether we can see it or not. No one knows what thoughts or feelings we have, but it’s not always easy to express them, it can be difficult to find the words to say, even if we were to say a simple “I’m not okay.” Doesn’t exactly say what kind of battle we are facing alone.

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