#once again way longer than I intended lol

[beloveds-embrace]

Sooo much angstttttttttttt 😭

I need the boys to wake up and do whatever it takes to fix it, please, I can't take the angst 😭😭😭

Does this count as fix-it? 🤔 hope you enjoy, anon! Also this turned out far longer than i thought it would lol

First Part

Another shift slowly happens within the duchy, palpable. The whispers of servants echo louder than ever, growing sharp and cutting in the empty halls you once used to frequent. They still avoid you, but now they wonder and whisper of your health. It’s not just them; the men you’d once hoped you’d at least be on an amicable basis with slowly change as well, the longer your absence haunts the halls and galas.

John is the first to act. It’s hesitant at first, awkward even, as though he can’t figure out how to approach the shattered remains of what he’s ignored for so long. He stands outside your door one evening, his shadow stretching under the flickering candlelight, fist raised to knock. But he doesn’t. Not at first. He falters, as if the weight of his guilt roots him to the spot.

When he finally does knock, it’s tentative, barely audible.

“…Are you awake?” His voice carries a softness you’ve never heard before, but it grates against your numbness.

You don’t answer. Your eyes barely flick towards the door, not moving from where you are curled on your side.

He lingers, sighs, and leaves.

You had intended to let yourself waste away, in all honesty. Only your mother doesn’t let you; she bursts into your room one day, sneers at the miserable sight you make, and insults you to the high heavens. Nothing new, even if her digs hurt, even if she says she isn’t surprised by no one loving you when you are like this, but she forces you to eat some nibbles and then into a shower; she doesn’t care. She is simply tired of having you be an embarrassment and hiding away from the public eye.

Thus, you no longer stay in your room. You don’t bother with jewelry, with heavy gowns or complicated hair styles or even clearing the layer of dust off your furniture, you just leave your room. Thankfully,

Unfortunately, that means passing by the maids and servants. It means passing by them. It means interacting with them again, though no longer initiated by you.

Simon is the second, and less direct. He lingers in places you begin to re-frequent; the library, the gardens, the corridors near your room. He doesn’t speak, just watches from the periphery, eyes heavy and intense. Once, when you brush past him without acknowledging his presence, he mutters something under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. But he doesn’t try to stop you and you don ask what he said.

He probably didn’t mean you, anyways. You doubt he wants to speak to you, the obstacle.

Johnny falters the most. Though your interactions with him were few, you’d occasionally hear from the servants about how fun he is in general. His smiles, though they’ve never been aimed at you, look quite fake to you, jokes half-hearted and dying on his lips whenever you pass on rare occasions.

One day, he brings a tray of food to your room himself, hoping to coax you into eating with something he’s cooked just for you. You answer the door, see him holding it, and shake your head without a word. Even if it looks delectable, like the dishes John would get.

“Please,” he says, his voice cracking. “I- just try a bit, hen.”

But you close the door before he can say more. He will try again and often, sometimes just leaving the tray, but you never touch it. You’ve lost weight, you know, and the only reason you are getting some nutrients at this point is because you occasionally sneak into the kitchens late at night for tiny snacks to tide you over. If Johnny knows it’s you, he’s never said anything.

Kyle is quieter, yet more present. The guilt eats away at him the most; he knows that his lack of care and respect had a part in the way the rest of the maids and staff treated you. He spends his evenings pacing the hall outside your room, his head bowed, mumbling apologies that you’ll never hear, wondering which one is best.

Once, he catches you in the garden alone, his mouth opening as if to speak, but you pass him without so much as a glance; you already know he won’t care for you have to say or ask for, he’ll just say he is busy, so you just don’t bother.

He stays frozen in place, his hand half-raised, the words stuck in his throat.

The servants, per Kyle and John’s orders, begin to change. Their guilt is slower to manifest, but it’s there and it’s evident in the way they rush to fulfill your needs despite your reluctance. They clean your room with quiet efficiency, no longer treating you like a burden, even though you hadn’t asked it of them. They leave fresh flowers on your desk and vanity, extra blankets on your bed, and freshly pressed gowns in your wardrobe.

You ignore all of it. It’s a waste of everyone’s time snd effort. You aren’t worth it.

Yet despite their heavy guilt, they return to and continue serving you.

But nothing changes the heaviness in your chest, the emptiness that refuses to leave.

One day, closer to the date of the annual winter gala hosted by the emperial family, you step into the dining room unannounced, your presence startling them all. It’s the first time you’ve joined them in weeks. You move slowly, your posture rigid and tired, your expression unreadable.

“Duchess,” John starts, his voice uncertain, rising from his seat.

“…John,” You sit without meeting his eyes, your movements slow and deliberate. The table is silent, the tension suffocating as John, Simon, and Kyle exchange uncertain glances.

John clears his throat. “It’s good to see you, wife.”

You don’t respond.

The meal is awkward, stilted, but it’s necessary for you; you need to get reused to John for your eventual reappearance in high society. Johnny offers you dishes with a hesitant, hopeful look in his eyes, and Kyle pours your wine with an unsteady grip. John and Simon try to start a conversation, but their words falter and fade when you don’t reply.

Still, they try. Over the following weeks, their efforts grow.

John begins carving out time to spend with you, awkwardly hovering near your door, waiting for even a crumb of acknowledgment. He starts leaving small notes for you- apologies and quiet promises to be better. They pile up on your desk, untouched but not thrown away. You want to believe, but you feel jaded and tired.

Simon offers you quiet companionship, instead. Standing at your side in the garden or library, saying nothing but ensuring you’re not alone. He speaks softly when he does talk, a one-sided conversation with only the occasional hum or noise from you, but he’s undeterred.

Johnny keeps cooking for you, leaving trays of food outside your door with little notes attached: Eat a bit, bonnie. Just for me. You don’t eat much, still have very little appetite, but you do start taking bites here and there, and it’s enough to keep him trying.

Kyle offers small acts of service- holding doors open for you, keeping anything you might need available at hanf, ensuring your rooms are kept warm and comfortable. His words are rare, but his actions speak of endless guilt and the quiet hope that he can earn even a sliver of forgiveness.

The maids and butlers follow suit, their movements quieter, their service more thoughtful. They stop muttering, their eyes full of remorse whenever they see you. They bow in respect, and no longer treat you as if you aren’t a part of the duchy.

But you keep them all at arm’s length. Their guilt is evident, their efforts genuine, but the wounds they’ve left on your heart are deep. Forgiveness, if it ever comes, will not be easily earned. For now, you let them try, watching their clumsy attempts with a mixture of numbness and quiet satisfaction (that you do feel guilty over, but truly can’t help).

Several weeks before the gala, John comes to your office. He sits down, and waits until you are finished with your paperwork before he speaks. You are in a beautiful dress- Simon’s gift- and your hair is in a delicate style, done by your maids. You look pretty. You feel nice, even if the numbness remains. These days, it’s less.

“Duchess, I was thinking,” he began, voice soft and patient. “it might do you some good to get away for a while. A change of scenery.”

You turned to look at him, the suggestion pulling you from your numb reverie. His blue eyes searched yours, and for once, there was no coldness, no distance. “Somewhere quiet,” he continued, “where you can rest… away from all of this.”

The idea of leaving the suffocating walls of the manor, and the heavy tension of the duchy was tempting. And yet, you hesitated, unsure if you could trust the gesture or if it was just another attempt to smooth over appearances.

“I’ll take care of everything,” he added quickly, as if sensing your doubt. “You won’t have to worry about a thing. You can choose who you’d like to go with, or even if you want to go alone. It’s entirely up to you, Duchess.”

Johnny and Kyle appeared in the doorway then, Kyle holding a tray with a steaming cup of tea, Johnny with a small, hopeful smile and a plate of your favorite biscuits. Even Simon lingered near the threshold, his gaze steady but tinged with something softer than usual.

They were all waiting for your answer, their expressions almost pleading. You could feel the weight of their guilt and the sincerity of their offer. It wasn’t much- not enough to erase everything that had passed- but it was something. A step forward.

“…I’ll think about it.” you said at last, your voice quiet but firm. And for the first time in a long while, you saw a flicker of relief in their eyes.

[gunpowder-gemini]

Hi I have many many thoughts on Dandadan and where specific characters are going in the story, so incoming ramble posts lol. I've got thoughts on Okarun, Turbo Granny and Kinta specifically.

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA THROUGH CH. 175

First up: Okarun!

So obviously he's lost his turbo granny powers bc he's a good boy who keeps promises, but him having yokai curse powers is like, half the concept of the manga right? (The other half being Momo getting powers due to alien abduction). So clearly, he's gonna get them back because we can't just have one of our two main characters permanently sidelined. The question is just HOW.

I'm pretty sure Turbo Granny is gonna come back, she's a major supporting character and she had a whole little montage panel of Reasons To Stay despite her saying she has none but I'll get into that in a different post lol. HOWEVER! I don't think she's gonna give Okarun her powers again. I mean, they're HERS. And she just spent all that time getting them back why would she give them away again? So Okarun can fight? She can use her powers way better than he can, so if they're needed SHE'LL use them.

I think Okarun is gonna develop his own spiritual powers like Momo's.

In the recent chapters it's gone out of the way to highlight how ridiculously fit Okarun is now. Like, SUPER fit. Most obviously in the fitness tests, where he blew everyone out of the water:

But also in the fight against the pygmies he easily kept up with Aira, who was in her yokai form at the time.

Which I mean, it makes sense that he got fit - he's been fighting for his life as an after-school hobby lol. Obviously continually training to handle Turbo Granny's powers AND fighting things would result in him getting incredibly fit. But they've like REALLY emphasized it these past few chapters. It feels like they're really calling attention to it, you know?

But that in and of itself isn't the real reason I suspect he's got his own spiritual powers. It's actually because he can enter Empty Space.

So per the Serpoians, Empty Space is something aliens create that only pulls in humans with high spiritual power so the aliens can capture and study them. It's why once Aira got her acro silky powers she could enter Empty Space.

Okarun's high spiritual power wasn't his, it was Turbo Granny's. He was able to enter Empty Space because he had her power, but without it he's just a normal kid. So once he gave it back he should be unable to enter Empty Space. And yet:

He's gets pulled into Empty Space to fight the pygmies. He himself calls that out as strange! He shouldn't be able to! He doesn't have Granny's power! But there he is! So he must still have high spiritual power!

I think he spent such a long time with Turbo Granny's full power inside him, utilizing it so frequently, that it changed him. Either it awakened latent spiritual power within him or left behind an imprint of itself, I'm not sure lol. But I think he's developed his own version of Turbo Granny's power. I think it'll be a bit different from her, but still similar (I don't think they're gonna give him a completely different power ya know?). I suspect it'll come with a cool form change to his yokai form, like a costume upgrade lmao.

Furthermore, I think this happened because of the Danmanra arc. During that arc, in the final fight against the Fairy-Tale card, Okarun went all out three times.

He's never been able to do that - it's been kinda implied it would kill him. But through the ~power of love~ he managed to pull it off, and I think it is going to have an effect/consequences. I think this moment here changed him in some way, and it might be the catalyst for him developing his own version of Turbo Granny's powers.

Further to that point is Count Saint-Germain. He cornered Okarun, got him to yield and clearly intended to take his powers, but didn't.

I suspect it's because he wanted Turbo Granny's powers, but Okarun no longer has them. I think he either doesn't know Okarun has his own powers, or he does know and is waiting for Okarun to properly awaken them before he takes them. I'm like 90% sure the Empty Space in the pygmy fight was caused by him. Empty Space is pretty clearly outlined to be an Alien Thing and while the pygmies are spirits/yokai/whatever, Count Saint-Germain is probably an alien given his affiliation with the Kur. AND he was the one who gave Keiko the knife and the mission to steal Momo's power. Since Okarun got pulled into that Empty Space, if pretty boy here didn't know Okarun has some hidden spiritual power, he sure does now.

Either way, Okarun yielding to him here is definitely a Chekov's gun that's gotta fire at some point, and I've got theories on that but I'm gonna save them for my post on Turbo Granny lol.

Anyway TLDR; I think Okarun has his own superpowers like Momo now and we're gonna see them awaken in this arc.

Thanks for reading!

[chobunz]

── stress relief. ( sjy ) 🎧

๑ Jake hasn’t gotten as much attention from you lately, so I guess he has to bother you in order to receive it..

pair: clingy bf!jake ㅊ busy gf!reader | warnings: smut, pwp, fluff, very silly and unserious banter, teasing, begging, fingering, oral (f. rec), spit kink (?), marking, unprotected s.x, creampie | words: 4.0k

welp- this was a lot longer than i intended it to be lol, srry not sorry. also why am i always making jake such a needy bf ? LOL, idek.. i just love a man that’s down bad for me what else can i rlly say shdhshsd

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

exam season never stroke you as easy, that’s why you took more time than you had into studying. you spent most of your days sitting infront of your laptop and it’s handy dandy partner— your notebook. on the side of that you were juggling your boyfriend’s needs, alongside your mother’s constant smothering over the phone about how she wants to see you this week. you constantly tell her that you don’t have the time and if you had the time you’d rather go over there than anything. you loved your mother dearly, but you wanted big things for your future, especially when you imagine a family one day with your lover.

“mom, we’ve been over this a million times, i love you and all but i’ve told you. i don’t have the time to go and see you right now..” you hated having to put your studies first before anything, but that was the only way in order to become successful. you couldn’t afford to slack off and just take time for yourself to do whatever you wanted, you had to remain focused.

your mom didn’t seem too happy with that answer, she really wanted to see you and you could hear it in her voice. it broke your heart the way she sounded. “i understand that, but i really miss you staying over sweetheart.. maybe we can plan something this week ?” she truly hoped that you’d say yes but you couldn’t just drop everything and go home for the weekend, unfortunately things were far more complicated than that.

you were beyond stressed out, and along with her constant nagging it only pushed you over the edge, you were well over aggravated. it’s like she only thinks for herself sometimes..

“doesn’t sound like you understand, i don’t have time and i can’t come see you ! you’re being really selfish right now.” you’ve tried reasoning with her but it just never worked, usually you’d give in and comply with her demands but you had to put yourself first this time. “i’m sorry but not today or tomorrow, not even this week, i love you mom.”

“i love you too.. i guess i’ll talk to you later then ?..”

“mhm, bye mom.”

and with that, you quickly hung up. you felt bad with how you raised your voice at her, but sometimes she doesn’t think. you could tell she had gotten upset just by the tone of her voice and that by itself made you feel like shit.

weight on your shoulder: multiplied.

not long after, jake had came home, he’d seen you working your ass off and understood how this upcoming exam was important to you. although, he also got to shake hands with this disasteress stress. for one, he constantly has to force you off your work to go to bed. he hated seeing you risk your own health for the sake of success. jake knew you’d pass with flying colors, he believed in you, he always had. you were few of the top students in your class. of course you had it. while he also studied for exams, he’d rather not risk his mental health for a test he could easily just take again. and he always told you that, but you’re too stubborn to ever listen.

“babe, i’m home !” he shifted to the living area, where you just so happened to be at the time. “new station?” he giggled, joking about how you finally moved from the dining area.

“yeah, i guess..” you yawned while busily typing away at your HP. jake checked the time once hearing you yawn.

“baby, get up. bed time, now.” he clasped his hands together a second before walking towards you and your silly little laptop. you don’t say anything back, only continuing what you were doing, as if he wasn’t even important enough to acknowledge.

“uh.. are my words delayed ? did i stutter? save whatever you’re doing, right now and get your little ass into bed.” he cocked a brow at you, waiting for you to comply, hands taped to his waist.

“jakeee, just a little more.. ‘m almost done ! i promise. it’s just a little bit left !” you plea at him, hands speeding up it’s pace, dancing along the keys moving to the save button after typing another sentence. your face looked drowsy. you looked tired. and you knew it.

“great then just a little bit for you to do tomorrow ! room, now.” his one arm and his other grasp you, taking you under your arms and up on your feet. “bu-”

“go.” he cut you off, nodding his head in the direction of your shared bedroom. you finally caved, maybe you did need rest. and that’s just what you did, but not before talking to the sweetness that lay beside you.

๑ ๑ ๑

“so, how was your day..” you ask the half sleeping boy who’s face was deeply snuggled in between your breasts. he couldn’t sleep unless he was holding you, the warmth of your body against his gave him the much needed comfort he desired.

“mm.. good, i just wish you were more involved in it..” you felt the vibration of his voice through your skin making you giggle, yet, you were upset with how it’s now just dawned on you that you chose studying over the man who’d give you the whole world if he could.

it seems you’ve been acting awfully selfish lately, barely returning any of his calls or responding to his texts hours later. he feels like he’s constantly giving one hundred percent in this relationship while you barely gave half of that. jake knows you love him, you wouldn’t be coming home every night if you didn’t, but he misses that stage where you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know how caught up in exams i were, i haven’t been giving you much attention, have i ? ..”

“you holding me is all i need.. i cherish the time i get when you aren’t studying..” he mumbles, hands tracing shapes along the slope of your waist.

“thank you for giving me time and understanding.. i love you baby..” you kissed his head tenderly. receiving a hum in reply you knew he was tired, so you yourself dripped into slumber.

๑ ๑ ๑

your alarm rang forcing you out of bed and before doing so you switched your alarms off. you looked over at your resting partner. he was so peaceful when he slept he looked just like a baby, and you wanted nothing more than to baby him ;(

*okay.. i wanna hurry and finish this.* you pulled the blanket off your arm before dangling your feet off the cushion of the bed.

“what’re you doing ? where are you going ?” he instantly wakes up when he feels the weight of bed lighten, hands capturing the hem of your sweatshirt to forcefully halt your movement.

“i’m just going to finish up my studying,” you remind him from yesterday, cupping his face as you turn around to face him.

“goodmorning, jakey.” you cheesed.

a strong pair of strong arms wraps around your figure, “gummorning, princess.” he half yawns, looking up at you with those precious, endearing eyes of his.

“c’mon, let’s go play in toothpaste.” you tap his arms signaling him to let go.

“are you saying my breath smells bad ?” he chuckled, finally setting you free.

“i mean, if the shoe fits !” you playfully joked, getting up immediately after he unarms you.

“c’mon babyyy.” you try one more attempt to get him out of bed, hearing him act all whiney since he didn’t want to. he’d much rather still be under the sheets and laid up with you, but you were on a mission today.

finally, you two ended up in the bathroom. mornings were always chaotic, so much going on as you took turns brushing your teeth. while he brushed his, you were brushing your hair and doing your skincare routine. you were getting ready to take a shower so you gathered all of your needed things, only waiting to brush your teeth. when you finally got a hold of the sink you got your tooth brush and sat on the counter, kicking your legs. you were sometimes childish, but so what ? nobody wants to age anyway.

“stop being weird, little girl..” you were laughing almost choking with the minty taste of toothpaste in your mouth, you quickly spat it out. “and you pee loud ! it’s like gun fire !”

he chuckles at your comparison, “i know a few things i do loud.” he mumbled before walking over to your figure that sat tall on the sink as you rinsed your toothbrush, caging you in.

once your toothbrush was away your arms immediately swung around his neck, you’d missed holding him all day everyday, which is why you contemplated on cutting your studying short for today.

“you’re so cute..” jake couldn’t help but be all over you, he’s waited far too long just to have you like this again; peppering kisses all over your face and jawline, trailing them all the way down to your collarbone. your body tingles in excitement, wanting nothing but to have your boyfriend’s hands roam your whole body. but you’d soon snap back to reality— the sad, underwhelming reality of what you’re actually supposed to be doing.

“jake.. we can’t.. i have to finish, remember ?” you felt like a broken record at this point but it seems as though it goes in one ear and straight out the other. he hasn’t touched you in so long, he doesn’t even know how he’s survived without it. he has his needs too, and his hand wasn’t going to cut it anymore. he desperately needed you more than anything right now.

“i’ll be quick ! i swear, pleaseeee.” he tries his hardest to plead with you, eyes practically begging you for an ounce of sympathy. “just want you so bad…”

usually you wouldn’t give in so easily, but the way he looked at you made you wanna fold in a heartbeat. was studying really more important than getting some dick ? yeah probably. but how could you say no to that face ? it’s been weeks since you got some and the urges were only getting stronger. you had no willpower left, so you finally surrendered to him.

he now has you in the palm of his hands, exactly how he wanted. he’d constantly be thinking of you, and all those times where he’s had to pleasure himself in order to get some form of satisfaction has now paid off; he could simply act out all of his horny thoughts on you now. and since he’s already got you where he wants, he wasn’t letting you go anywhere like you usually do. jake plays with the hem of your sweatshirt before lifting it up over your head, practically dying to kiss every inch of your body. he doesn’t know how he got so lucky to have someone as pretty and smart as you, but he’d never take it for granted— holding you within his grasp, carrying you back to your shared bedroom and gently placing you down onto the bed.

“my pretty baby.. ” jake couldn’t keep his eyes or hands off you for a second, drinking in the sight of you underneath him, it made him wanna tear you to shreds.

though he couldn’t do that just yet, he wanted to take his time with you. show you how much he truly appreciates and loves you. he definitely lied earlier when he said he’d be quick, there’s no way he’d be able to rush this. not when he’s had all this built up sexual tension that’s been eating at him since the last time you two fucked. the neediness of his actions were more than telling of his intentions, you knew he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him— if not more. plus, how could you refuse that puppy dog look he’s given you ?? he made you go crazy just from his facial expressions alone.

his hands slowly traveled up to caress your breasts, the pads of his fingers swiping over it’s hardened bud, rubbing in slow, lazy circles. he loves the way your body reacts to his touch, how you’d arch your back just from the feel of him. your low moans and whimpers were enough to make him go even more feral than he already is, feeling his cock twitch just from the way you’d sound. he craved you more than anything right now. you bit your lip when his mouth wraps around the base of your nipple, his hand working it’s way down to cup your clothed core, getting a feel of how much of a dripping mess you were for him.

“mmh.. so wet for me already babygirl,” he giggles when noticing the dampness of your panties. you seriously couldn’t believe you’ve fucked yourself over his touch just for exams. you often found yourself subconsciously humping your pillow to the thought of him, wishing that his face was buried between your legs instead of it. your body grew so sensitive over time, it was like you forgot how good he made you feel..

“need you so bad baby.. let me relieve all the stress and tension out of you..” his voice was low, full of lust and desire for only you. he kept teasing you with his fingers, enjoying every minute of you writhing and squirming under his body. he’s missed this dearly, and he was going to take full advantage of this. your mind drew itself blank, unable to think of anything but your beautiful boyfriend on top of you. you judd your hips up against his hand, building a steady rhythm to match his, the friction driving you absolutely insane.

“oh..fuck-” you let out a gasp when his thumb “accidentally” brushes over your clit, his hands shift to tug the fabric of your panties down as fast as he possibly could— but that didn’t stop him from continuing his little torturous teasing spree.

his head rested perfectly between your plush thighs, staring down at your pretty, glistening folds, tracing his finger everywhere expect where you needed him most. “mm.. jake, quit teasin’..” you whined out of frustration, which only made him giggle even more, until he finally complies with your demand.

“you’re right, my hardworking girl deserves a reward. doesn’t she ?” he looks up at you with a devious smirk plastered on his lips, all while sinking two digits into your small entrance— making you cry out from the sudden fill he’s added.

“spread your legs wider for me baby.” you didn’t even hesitate upon hearing that command, legs shooting open immediately. keeping your thighs open with your hands so jake could get a better look at your sopping cunt.

“feels good, huh ? you missed having my fingers inside you ?” he continuously thrusts in and out, gradually increasing his speed as you’re on the verge of falling apart. he absolutely loved seeing you like this, it’s what he lives for. he felt so accomplished knowing that only he can make you feel this way; no one else could ever have the same effect on you that he does.

jake knew you were far too weak to speak, your moans echoing the walls of the room was pure music to his ears. with just a curl of his fingers, your walls cinch around them greedily, watching as they’d disappear into your tight hole. your whole body trembles, as you cupped your breasts to knead them gently.

“fuck, you’re so hot. such a pretty little pussy, all for me.” he pants softly, taking in the sight of your eyes squeezing shut, how you were so overwhelmed already. he could bust just from this alone.

his head dips down in between your thighs, latching his mouth to your clit. he’d switch from harshly sucking to lapping his tongue on the swollen bud, eliciting the prettiest sounds out of you. “taste so fucking good baby. could eat you out all damn day..” he praised again, drowning himself in your sweetness.

you don’t know how much more you can possibly take but you firmly pull on his hair for leverage, tightly tugging it not even registering that it could possibly hurt him. but he doesn’t complain, his free hand caresses your thigh gently, flicking his tongue rapidly on your clit and drinking up your wetness, you taste like a dream. you mewl slightly above a whisper, forgetting how to use your own voice. his mouth was making you feel more than amazing, better than anything you’ve felt before.

“ ‘m gonna come !..” your hand now held onto his hand for support, lacing your fingers to intertwine with his. you grind your hips harder, feeling like you’re about to explode.. your juices squirt onto his fingers and his chin, making a mess all over the sheets beneath you, in utter utopia from the intensity of your orgasm.

“shit..baby” he moaned, licking his lips to savor every taste of you. he lifts his head up, beaming with a rush of excitement to finally have you take his cock. “get up,” it sounded a lot more demanding than he thought, but he couldn’t wait any longer. he was so horny that he wouldn’t even be surprised if he nuts the minute he enters you, (but thankfully he won’t because that would simply defeat the whole purpose of everything).

you did as you were told and quickly got up to land yourself on top of him. it’s obvious what he wanted you to do, he wants you to ride him while he looks up at your pretty face. it’s one of his favorite positions, not only does he get to lay back and let you do all the work but he secretly loves that you’re the one in control.

“mm.. that’s my girl,” he groans once you hover over his length, gently stroking the base of his shaft. his hands slid up to find purchase on your hips.

his embrace felt all the more than loving— it was familiar, warm, and protective. skin on skin, body to body; beautifully unraveling as one. your mouth flung open when you slid yourself inside but no audible noise came out— it was but a silent scream. he was sporting a semi-hard on but once fully submerged and accustomed to you tightening around him, your walls could feel his length slowly swell up inside you, it was one of those indescribable feelings that you cherish forever.

“better start moving baby, this dicks not gonna ride itself.” he playfully demands, slightly bucking his hips up to feel some motion, “or do you want me to do all the work instead, hm ?” that offer was extremely tempting, but it’s not like he wasn’t going to do that later on.

“n-no, wanna ride you jakey… i’ll start moving” you stutter, shakily rutting your hips against him, he fills you up so perfectly as if his cock was designed solely for you. placing both palms on his broad shoulders for anchorage whilst raising your hips to now finally properly ride his fully erect.

“fuck… s-so big— so full..” you don’t think you’ll ever get used to how he stuffs you completely. his low grunts were the most melodic tone to your ears, along with his heavy panting and nails digging into the dips of your hips— he had your head spinning.

jake was enthralled with the fact only he could have you like this, a pretty little whining mess just for him. his cock throbbing in you intensely made you clench around the thickness, mouth falling back open to reveal a long strand of your saliva, this only brought him more joy as he pulled you in for another kiss, moaning nonstop into his mouth. you picked up a steady rhythm while riding him, moving up and down as you thread your fingers in his soft hair, feverishly making out with him. it all felt too good, he felt unreal, it became almost too much for you.

you gnawed at his lower lip when you pulled slightly away, leaving another string of your spit connected together; he drove you madly insane. his attention went soaring elsewhere now, producing wet kisses along your side profile, to your neck, gently sucking and biting on the skin to admit a reaction. a deliberate shriek leaves your mouth, feeling your muscles tighten as you tremble, he left more faint love bites to your collarbone and visible bite marks to your shoulder. he notices your struggle to stay balanced and shifts his arm, firmly on your waist to keep you in place.

“love the way you take this dick like a pro babe, you’re fucking amazing.” he praised you over and over, his words of encouragement helping you build quicker stamina, bouncing on his cock as if you were deprived of it for months (technically speaking you were, but maybe not for that long).

“you know i love you right princess ?” he husks, assuring that this’ll always mean something more than just sex to him, you were far from disposable, his love runs deeper than you could ever imagine.

“y-yes jake, i do. i love you t-too— mmh fuck !” your head plunges backward when he thrusts his cock back into you to match your movements, bringing one of his veiny hands to come rub your ass, sinking you further into him.

you kept a steady pace as you lower your middle finger to play with your clit as you rode him, the extra stimulation to your nub had your head dropping lower in reverse. you were so excruciatingly wet all you could hear were his hard breaths mixed with your soaking arousal slamming into his cock, only thing running through your mind was getting to milk him empty once you both reach your climax. a moan slips the both of your lips in unison as you scrunched your eyes shut from euphoric sense of pleasure.

“no no, look at me baby— keep ‘em open.” he ordered. your eyes flicker open once again, obediently following his rules, giving him the eye contact he so desperately craves.

“love looking at this pretty face every single fucking day,” he groans, still holding your hips securely in his grasp, “all of this is mine, mine, mine.” each time he’d say it another deep stroke would slam into your cervix. a final hit to your sweet spot had you trembling under him, crying out his name while screaming at the top of your lungs— you can tell he was getting close too by his chest heaving and sultry grunts and moans laced with an endless loop of your name being said.

your face contorts from your nearing orgasm imploding you, the o-shape formation of your lips taking over, “g-gonna come jake… can feel it !” a drawn out sigh leaving your breath as you catch it.

“yeah ? gonna make a mess all over this cock ?” he felt you clench around him at his every word, your hand reaches down to your bud caressing it slowly ready to reach your high again.

“go ahead baby, let go for me.” he grants your undying wish with those words, chasing your high as you finally let go, cream leaking down the sides of his cock.

“fuck, so good.. such a good girl for me.” he felt himself closer to the edge, “where do you want my cum this time babe ?” he asks impatiently.

“inside, inside me please !” you practically beg for it, eyes growing heavy, and your breathing becomes irregular. you soon felt your walls being coated with his thick, hot cum, filling you up with every last drop. you instantly collapsed onto his chest, completely drained and worn out by the end. the room remained silent for a few minutes, just enjoying each other’s company, lost in his warm embrace.

“hmm.. what about now ?” jake broke the quite atmosphere with his random question, leaning closer to peck the side of your face, “how does my breath smell now ??” he teased from earlier’s incident.

“oh my god, shut up,” you turned away from him with hot cheeks. “what does it smell like huh ?” he laughed at your embarrassed state.

“go away !” you pushed him off of you to go do your little pee pee check. “smells like your yummy little pussy, donnit baby !” he watched you hop into the bathroom.

“my pee too loud ! can’t hear you !!” you shut the bathroom door with a tiny giggle.

you could still hear jake hysterically laughing in the background.

2 am smut hits differentt >:33 had to post a cute lil fluffy fic for my jakey pooh cs he’s so cutieful hehehe <3

also, hii lee ik ur reading this loll ilyyy .+(´^ω^`)+ .

@leeechin ♡︎

[k0mmari]

SYSTEM! SHEN YUAN AU (Pt.2)

Pt.1

Im not done with this, so to the people that wanted more, here it is! I, fortunately or not, have thought way too much again, so once more this is going to be a very, very, VERY long post. If you guys have any ideas about this btw, please do share them! I really am just letting my mind wander a bit more than usual, so maybe someone else can have more structured thoughts than me lol. (Fair warning, there probably will be plot holes, so sorry in advance!)

Please read Pt.1 if you haven't, or this won't make any sense!

After SY warped away from his impromptu meeting with Binghe, the last place he would like to end up would be even deeper into the Endless Abyss, but according to his System, the next piece of the virus was here. While not happy, since his Personal System was (mostly) working as intended, SY managed to activate Ghost Mode and walk towards the next part without having to deal with any of the creatures down there. (He had to try very hard not to get distracted by the monsters, lest his supervisor thinks he also went missing.)

It takes considerably more time to find the virus this time, so much in fact, SY starts to recognize his surroundings from SQH's ramblings (not that he was interested or anything), and he feels a cold sense of dread running down his spine. There was no way he was that unlucky that the object that got corrupted this time was-

He was that unlocky. Lo and behold, after entering a run down ruin, SY is faced with the legendary Xin Mo, power so overwhelming it manifested as dark fire covering the blade. The only reason why SY wasn't immediately writhing on the ground from the sword's power was Ghost Mode, which he could not rely for too long, as his Personal System was displaying warning after warning about Possibility of Corruption and God Like Plot Point. It all meant that SY was on a timer, and if he took too long, the sword would start corrupting his System, which in turn could corrupt him.

Now, since this was a VERY important Plot Point, Luo Binghe had to find Xin Mo or else the plot would derail to an unfixable degree, SY couldn't just snip at it, which was a problem, since manual debugging took a considerably longer time! Still, he summons his Scissors and positions it so he can start at least trimming off the virus.

His plan immediately backfires however, as an ominous crack sounds through the air and he's suddenly pushed away from the sword by a gust of energy. A bit disoriented, he shakes his head and acesses the sit-

Xin Mo, the horrible sword it was, was apparently so OP that it seemed to detect the Scissors at the last second, and the thing attacked back! The metal of the Scissors was dark and broken where it came close to the sword, almost broken in half! Which, not good! It any other time, a pair of broken Debugging Sheers would be more or less fine, if not a major inconvinience (and pay deduction) for SY, but since he'd been warping all over the time for a while now, his Personal System's energy reserves were carefully rationed, and if he were to use a chunk to send the Scissors back for some emergency repair, he'd only have one chance to go back to HQ. Alone.

He couldn't delay it any longer, he desperately needed to find SQH and pray he still had some energy reserves left.

Setting his Personal System's next warp location to SQH's last known location, SY wouldn't have guessed in a million years that he would go back to Cang Qiong Mountain, but whatever; maybe SQH had wanted to start with fixing the bug on Binghe's pendant? Not that this was the right time since it was after Binghe fell into the Abyss, but SQH had never been good at warping. It takes a bit of wandering and going inside different buildings, but eventually his Personal System managed to get a dirrect ping on SQH's System, which sent a massive wave of relief rushing through SY, since it meant that SQH was still slive.

Though as to why he was at An Ding Peak, SY could only guess.

After a bit more wandering, SY enters on what seems to be a (very messy) office space, SY feels all the pieces coming together in his mind. Half sprawled across the table with piles of paper covering the entire table's surface lay the An Ding Peak Lord, which- was already weird, since wasn't this guy supposed to be an enemy of the Peak now? After the whole betrayal thing or whatever? But that would've been something to look into later, were it not for said Peak Lord casually scrolling through a Personal System screen. A Personal System that could only be used by the System's Maintanence Staff.

SY wastes no time in deactivating Ghost Mode, and when SQH's eyes snap to his, the man jumps so high from his chair he almost falls back. It's not a happy reunion by a longshot, since SY immediately jumped his friend co-worker and demanded an explaination, almost screaming about it was all his fault for doing shitty maintenence, and creating this shitty world if it's shitty OP sword which broke his Sheers? Do you know how expensive these are?? I know you do, cause the supervisor never lets you touch the good ones cause you keep cracking all the other pairs-

It takes a more or less one whole hour to calm down SY, but eventually the younger settled and lets SQH say his bit of the story: Apparently, in his messing around with the System's world creation program when he was trying to find the bug in his world, he'd accidentaly managed to get himself actually transmigrated to PIDW, though still with (limited) acess to his Personal System, which let him still send messages to their supervisor and pretend that everything was ok. He'd gotten so unlucky too! Out of all the people to accidentaly select, did it have to be the An Ding Peak Lord? Couldn't it have been Binghe? Or MBJ- (SQH cuts his lamenting when he notices SY's absolutely viscious death glare being stared right through his soul.)

Long story short, he'd initially did try to fix his blunder, but as more time passed and SQH's access to Maintenance priviledges went out one by one on his System, he eventually just... Started actually living there. In fact, he was living so well there that he dared say his life as Peak Lord was even better then when he was with the System! Of course, since he had been integrated as a 'character' now, he had his limitations, he actually managed to get to know his fellow peak lords! He knew the name of his character's family members and his disciples! He'd managed to build a life he never even thought he could have inside the System.

Sure, did he betray the Peak? Yes, yes he did. Were they all going to die in a few years time when Binghe came back from hell? Yeah, yeah they were, and he was immensely guilty and terrified, but! The plot could be changed! He already assumed someone from the System had popped up in the Conference, as when Binghe had recently made his alliance with MBJ, and had mentioned in passing this weird thing that had happened to him just before he fell into the Abyss.

Anyways, eventually SY begrudgingly accepts SQH's decision to stay in PIDW, but he still had to help SY; and so they form a plan: SY was going to transfer some energy to SQH so he could temporarily get his acess to the full version of his Personal System and use his energy reserves to send SY's Sheers and get them fixed. SQH was also going to properly apologize to their supervisor for suddenly quitting without notice AND order some more energy stacks to be sent to SY's System. SY on the other hand had devises a plan to get closer to XIn Mo without the sword exploding his face off:

Infiltrate Demon Emperor Luo Binghe's palace as a lowly staff member and slowly debug the sword from the inside.

A perfect plan! What could go wrong?

SY selects to warp to a time where Binghe had Xin Mo mostly in control, so it is to no surprise he warps to a place were the Demonic Emperor's Palace is absolutely filled with women. Not the best situation, since a lot of people could and probably would be able to see him, but with that many harem members, it wasn't too much of a stretch to assume there was also a considerable number of staff, which, to SY's luck, there was! In fact, after he managed to activate a disguise for his clothes so they matched the rest of the servants, no one bat an eye on his presence; at most someone would inquire about his short hair, but other than that he was as noteable as a fly.

The first phase of his plan was already a success, so now he had to move on to reconnaissance which was mostly easy and the worst thing in his life. He was mostly looking for Binghe's quarters could be as he probably kept the sword close to him at all times, though with how big the palace was, his objective had gradually shifted to mapping out the labyrinth of halls as much as possible (SY was very glad that the System allowed him to create a map in real time or he might have gotten lost in the first five minutes). He walks so much he even manages to catch a few pieces of gossip, though the most interesting one by far being one about Binghe:

Apparently, a year ago, the Emperor had a qi deviation where, for a day, he seemed to have completely shifted his personality; he refused to touch any of his wives and kept screaming for his long dead Shizun. SY doesn't really remember that plot point, though his wondering is cut short when he hears people walking towards his direction. instinctively he his behind a dark corner, momentarily forgetting that he 'worked' at the palace now.

At list his bad luck was finally turning over as the Golden Protagonist himself walked past him with one of his wives hanging off his arm, looking just as cool as SY had always imagined. He had to snap himself out of his stuppor though, as two things caught his attention: First, Xin Mo was, predictably, strapped to his waist, still glitched but at least the virus seemed more or less contained, which gave SY a bit more time to work, though the other thing he noticed...

Hanging onto an old-looking braid laid SY's missing tassle that Binghe had found for him all the way back at the Conference.

What the hell was Luo Binghe doing wearing that old tassle at this day and age??

A few days passed and the Tassle Incident (as he called it) had to be set aside, as it seemed that passing as a servant also meant that other servants and even some wives expected SY to actually work. Not great, he sucked at cleaning and the other servants spared no words to make it clear to him, but it at least gave him something to do while he waited for his Scissors to arrive. SQH had sent him a few messages saying he'd gotten his part of the deal done, so now all SY could do was monitor Xin Mo's condition (from very far away), and occasionally manually debug some small virus pieces that had fallen from the sword, which luckily were easy enough to deal with that he didn't need to cut them off.

The only thing that was worrying him now is how... odd Luo Binghe seemed. Of course, he was supposed to be the pinnacle of the Cool Guy trope, so some edginess was to be expected, but Binghe didn't look just Edgy, he looked straight up depressed. There were bags under his eyes, and he barely seemed to tolerate the presence of 99% of his wives, and that damned braid with the damned tassle was still there-

Point is, Binghe acting so weird really threw SY through a loop, and he may have gotten a bit careless. At a random day when SY was carrying some dirty laundry another servant had just shoved at him, he had no prior warning before a voice sounded from behind him: "You seem to have dropped something."

He barely managed to shake off the violent sense of deja-vu that had sucker punched him in the face before he realized what was happening; Luo Binghe was talking to him. Directly to him. Shit- shit! Did he notice? Was Binghe doing a clever call back, spider-man style?? Was SY going to die????

SY shakily turns to Binghe, keeping his eyes locked onto the floor, bowing as much as possible that he still seemed respectful but the bag of clothes he had didn't all just fall to the floor. Thankfully Binghe didn't seem to mind, and simply put the fallen piece of clothing on top of the others and walked away. Though, just as SY was regaining his breath, Luo Binghe's voice stops him again. "You... Have we met before?"

SY trembles something about only being hired recently and not having the opportunity to formaly meet Junshang, and it seems to be a decent enough that Binghe just stares at him for a while longer before walking away. He really should grow out his hair if even the Emperor got weirded out like that...

Binghe started eyeing SY way more after that day. The protagonist would rarely speak directly to him, but SY could feel his gaze as if it were burning; though, since Binghe never said anything, SY just assumed that whatever Binghe's problem with him was, it was likely nothing to worry about.

In fact, it probably was because one of Binghe's wives had used SY is an impromptu act to try to get Binghe jealous (he just frowned, separated the two and walked away) and after that she had gotten infatuated with him, so she'd turned SY into her personal servant. Because of that SY saw Binghe at most two times a week instead of the 50% chnace of seeing his shadow once a week. Wow.

Because of this, as much as Binghe noticed SY, SY noticed Binghe as well, the protagonist seeming to get even more down as the days went. The tassle was still braided in his hair (SY worried it was just going to become a lock at this point), his eyebags never seemed to leave his eyes, and he was always muttering about... something. (SY managed to overhear something about 'fairness' and what Binghe actually wanted...?)

It all culminated at a seemingly random night. Most of the wives and servants had gone to sleep, only the more in-human women still hanging around, and SY, of course, but mostly it was because he wanted to see how close he could get to Binghe's quarters (aka Xin Mo) at night. Not that it was necessary, as when he was walking his attention was adruptly caught by the strangest sight: Luo binghe, sitting on one of the stone stair that lead to one of the many courtyards, being absolutely drenched in rain. The weirdest part was that a few servants and wives had also passed this place, and they all seemed like they didn't see Binghe, or didn't care.

Hating to see such an usually proud man (not that he'd seen much of that either) just soaking outside as if he'd just caught the love of his life cheating with another man, SY decided that at least he'd do a good job as a servant and take care of 'his Lord'. He grabs an umbrella from one of the adjacent rooms and slowly walks outside, covering Luo Binghe's form, not really caring if he was also getting soaked.

They stayed silent for who knows how long, but eventually, Binghe's eyes that had been laser focused on the horizon slowly blink once, as if coming out of a trance, and slowly move to SY's face, up to his hand holding the umbrella. "My Lord should get back inside. He'll get sick that way." SY half murmurs.

Binghe doesn't respond, though after a few seconds, his eyes seem to widen a bit and his breath comes out a little shaky. SY doesn't dare comment on it.

"Have we met before?" Luo Binghe asks again.

"...Yes." Shen Yuan says.

Binghe closes his eyes, and they stay like that for another hour.

[retroaria]

hello! if you're not busy, then may i please request an interviewer!reader x the blue lock boys? in which they become enamored with their interviewers charm. a few specific characters i want are: sae, rin, nagi and kaiser. but feel free to add or remove characters as you'd like! you can do this in your free time, no pressure. thank you, and take care!

a/n: thank you for requesting!! i’m so sorry please don’t hate me for how long this took i am NOT a professional :x

⋆˙⟡ interviewer!reader x - rin - nagi - kaiser - ⋆˙⟡

• | BLUE LOCK M.LIST | •

nagi seishiro ᯓᡣ𐭩

*totally lovestruck*

nagi has always struck me as someone who considers himself to be “out of the league” for most people he finds attractive, so he doesn’t put himself out there and doesn’t really know how. if he was in a situation where he had to interact with someone he genuinely was enamored by, he’d be a mess.

and so he stands there, dopy, clueless, not even looking correctly in the camera and seemingly staring at…you? No, he’s definitely staring at you. his eyes are dull and dim, but they seem to be a little hazed, glossed over with a sheen of fascination. he shakes his head and nods and mumbles, unbeknownst to whatever it is you’ve actually been asking him.

this is not the look nagi ever intended to have when speaking to someone he finds this attractive, but he truly can’t help it. his minds gone blank and he isn’t sure if you’re standing perfectly under a spotlight or if you’re an angel naturally glowing in his presence. his internal dialogue is stuck between cringing at himself and taking mental note of every single feature he can gather with his eyes on you - all over you, i should say.

nagi would be way too excited to actually ask you out (also definitely not after staring you down like a creep), he’d be too afraid of losing his cool. but he would absolutely remember your name and ask around when he has the chance - would ask reo for help with this lol. through some industry path of team managers to stadium staff to news reporters, he eventually finds you again. would 100% stalk you on social media and follow you just to see where that goes .

just like rin, he’d try to be in the right place at the right time and do the right things to get you to strike some sort of non formal conversation with him in the hopes that’ll it’ll create an opening for him to ask you out :x

rin itoshi ᯓᡣ𐭩

*blushes and looks away…*

rin hates interviews. he doesn’t like open ended questions and he hates having a camera shoved in his face. most of the reporters that run up to him on the edge of the field just holler questions and statements at him that can often feel degrading and presumptuous.

when he was stopped just outside the stadium by you and your small crew, you spoke to him with a lack of crassness that he hasn’t been on the receiving end of in ages - so he agrees. his answers remain cold and striking, as they always are, but his demeanor is more loose than usual.

rin initially doesn’t feel anything for you other than respect and gratitude for treating him like a human unlike the other reporters he’s encountered. he was sure to get your name and properly thank you. he’s the type to think about you and hope that you’ll cross paths again. wouldn’t go out of his way to find you, but at every game and every event he scans the crowds in search of your smile that had welcomed him so tenderly before. not to mention your face has popped into his head almost everyday since he first met you and it’s freaking him the fuck out.

when he does see you again he accepts your interview request immediately, bullshits through all the questions, and sticks around a little longer to talk to you. he’s painfully awkward and even more painfully unaware of it, but once you notice the slight blush on his face you can steer him in the right direction lol

michael kaiser ᯓᡣ𐭩

*prince charming*

when you introduced yourself to kaiser in hopes of getting an interview you certainly did not expect the offer to be accepted so enthusiastically. kaiser isn’t necessarily bothered by interviews, but he hates having to think of answers on the spot.

he’d throw out some cheeky lines like “If I smile at the camera can I get a date?” and a classic for him, “Whatever you say, beautiful.”

you’re asking him questions he surely has been asked before, questions he’s probably been trained to answer, but his answers are boastfully and flirtatiously directed at you and you alone. your camera man leaned over and asked if he should just cut all the footage. you entertain him a little more, trying to see if you can get him to break his prince charming act and actually talk about the game he just played.

eventually he lets up and you get the interview done. as you and your crew are about to leave the stadium, he grabs your hand and lifts it up, planting a soft kiss to your knuckles (you think maybe this could be considered assault, but you’ll let it slide for him this one time).

unlike the other two, kaiser doesn’t have a bashful bone in his body in this situation. i’ve always felt that he isn’t as much of a manwhore as everyone thinks he is, which i still stand by!!! but if he sees you and is truly enamored by you he knows how to make his feeling apparent.

[alrightieaphroditie]

wipe my tears away | j.m.

*:·ﾟ✧ series masterlist | previous part!

pairing *:·ﾟ afab!reader x joel miller wc *:·ﾟ6.6k  warnings *:·ﾟ18+! minors please do not interact!! talk of period pain, hormonal emotions, crying, kissing, some manhandling (if you squint), sad attempt at dirty talk, period play (lightly), fingering, maybe some degradation (not really sure), clit stimulation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (f receiving), squirting/messy cum, p in v penetration (not protected, do better!), one mention of blood… please let me know if i’m missing any major ones!  an *:·ﾟthis is for the girlies who get over emotional during their periods (they are me, i am them). this is a bit longer than intended, but once i got in the zone i literally couldn’t stop, so i hope y’all will enjoy it! kind of unedited, so if anything major jumps out feel free to comment lol. i also wrote this with correct capitalization, where all my previous fics were lowercase bc i couldn’t be bothered to turn on auto caps, so let me know if y’all prefer this format!  check the series masterlist for the series tags!

synopsis *:·ﾟ joel comes home to find you laying in bed, crying because of period pain. he may not be a full gentleman, but he wouldn’t let you suffer when he has a trick up his sleeve to help sooth the cramps. 

The pain that begins in your lower abdomen, the feeling that radiates throughout the rest of your lower body with enough force to make you wince, isn’t entirely new. It’s a monthly occurrence, actually. One that you feel like you should be used to by now, considering it’s plagued you for more than half your life. 

But the outbreak had already happened when you first got your period as a teen, and for a while, your body wasn’t receiving the nutrients it needed to sustain that kind of function. It was a double-edged sword, the way you were appreciative that you haven’t had it this bad your entire life, while ruminating on the losses that occurred due to the infection. 

Because it was a different story, now. 

Now, you were eating more than you could ever remember before. Jackson was a thriving community, after all. And you were beyond blessed that you were one of the lucky ones who got to reside within its gates. Now, your body was properly fed and being taken care of for the first time in years, and that double-edged sword reared in your mind again; thankful for the safe space you’ve landed upon, but God, at what cost? Your period pain took you out for days each month, making you feel like a burden even though you physically couldn’t help it. 

Your toe stubbed against a chair in your living room as another cramp worked its way through your body, causing you to cry out for more than one reason. Tears filled your waterline, and a heavy sigh escaped past your lips. The rough material of your jeans was digging into your waistline, your hair felt heavy against your neck and each strand that brushed against your cheek made you want to cut it off, and you just felt so useless. Some logical part of your brain realized this wasn’t really you feeling this way, it was just the hormonal shift, but that didn’t provide any sense of comfort as the tears continued to glide down your face. 

In some ways, you were lucky, as today had been your day off from helping around Jackson. Otherwise, that sense of being a burden to everyone would’ve increased tenfold. You couldn't stop feeling like a burden to yourself, though. You had made a perfectly organized to-do list that was hanging on your fridge of things you wanted to tackle today. 

Your sheets needed to be washed. The floors needed to be swept and mopped, especially after the rain, as Joel and Ellie continued to trek mud through your house by accident. Maria had given you some of the spices that grew in abundance, and you wanted to make one of those simmer pots on the stove that she kept mentioning. 

But doing those chores was the last thing on your mind right now, as another cramp racked its way through your body. Now, you just wanted to go lay in bed wearing nothing but Joel's shirt that you had thrown on earlier and cry while hugging a pillow.

 And so, that’s what you did. 

Your vision was watery as your fingers swiftly worked to unbutton your pants, your feet carrying you out of the living room and into your bedroom before you really even realized what you were doing. Once you hit your bedside, you tugged the jeans down your legs, letting them pool at your feet and leaving them on the ground as you crawl into bed, feeling about as pathetic as you probably looked. Curling up on your side, you reach out blindly and grab onto Joel's pillow, tucking it against your body and letting it provide you a false sense of comfort. After that, the tears start flowing freely. 

You didn’t know how long you laid there, didn’t know how long the sound of your sniffles had filled the room or how long you pressed the pillow against your abdomen. The cramps were still relentless, and it wasn’t like you even had any medicine you could take; expired Tylenol did absolutely nothing anymore. You wish you were more used to this feeling, this pain. But it seemed like the longer you were at Jackson, the worse the symptoms became each month. You had yet to figure out the remedies that were foolproof for this feeling. 

Continuous tears turned into lonely, stray droplets as you held onto the pillow. The room was silent except for the occasional sniff. You had zeroed in on an undone thread on the pillowcase, not paying attention to your surroundings, so you didn’t hear the sound of the front door being pushed open, or the sound of Joel's work boots stomping across the wooden floors. In the corners of your mind, you recognized the voice that was muttering to himself outside your room, but your eyes stayed focused on that singular thread. 

The thought of it being lonely, being apart from the other threads holding the fabric together, made your eyes water again. You could put yourself in its position, the ever present fear of being alone daunting you even now, and that was enough to send the tears over your waterline, racing down your cheeks and onto the pillow once again. The hiccup that came from your inhale was the noise that had the footfalls move towards your room, and through your blurry vision you saw the outline of Joel standing in the doorway. 

“What's wrong?” Through your sniffles, you could sense his urgency, his rough voice filled with nothing but concern, and maybe a little worry. His gaze swept over your body, checking for any possible injury. This was the first time he’d seen you break down to this level, and the sight of you curled into a fetal position, tears streaming down your face with his pillow in your grasp… he prayed to God that another person wasn’t involved with making you feel this way.

It would be a shame to lose his good reputation amongst Jackson because he had to beat some fucker up. 

Your gaze swung up to his face, and you made yourself blink harshly to expel the lingering tears. His face came into focus, the worry lines on his forehead becoming more clear to compliment the frown on his full lips. He had a spot of dirt streaking across his forehead, and his clothes were dirty from spending the day working outside. For whatever reason, the fact that Joel had been out working in the heat for most of the day while you couldn’t even manage to get up and wash your bedsheets made your emotions spiral even more. What is wrong with me? you wondered, hugging the pillow tighter to your body. 

The sound of his work bag hitting the floor echoed through the room, soon followed by the shuffle of his boots being kicked off his feet. His hands were gently pulling the pillow away before you could even register that he was in front of you now, but you felt the bed dip under his weight as he perched himself at the edge. His broad hand rested on your elbow before sliding up your arm, gently caressing your skin until he reached the side of your face. The calluses on his thumb scratched against your skin as he swiped the digit under your eye, wiping away the tears that had pooled. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” his voice was softer this time, comforting you in a way that had you feeling alright for the first time today. You leaned up on your elbows, and Joel helped guide you into a sitting position across from him, your hands holding on to one of his while his other cupped your face, thumb swiping against skin. The action of sitting up had your cramps rearing their ugly heads again, and your wince was subtle but extremely obvious to Joel, evident by the furrowing of his eyebrows. 

“My uterus is what’s wrong,” the scratchiness of your throat had you coughing slightly, and you worked to clear it before trying again, voice nearly as weak as you felt. “I'm on my period.” Joel's eyes widened in surprise at your admission, but he quickly schooled his features.

This wasn’t his first rodeo; he’d been with you for awhile now, but noticed that each month your symptoms were different. Sometimes, your sudden anger at everything gave away the fact that it was that time of the month. Other times, it was your sweet tooth and your cravings that gave it away. Rarely was it your tears, though, and his heart lurched at this new response. 

When your hands went to wrap around your stomach, applying pressure lightly to help ease the throbbing, his free hand came up to the other side of your face. “‘m sorry, darlin. Know that ain’t the best feeling in the world,” his thumbs were doing a stand up job at wiping away the tears on your cheeks, and soon the only sign that you had been crying was the red glaze surrounding your pupils. 

And the occasional sniffle. 

You leaned into his touch, eyes closing at the surprising amount of comfort that you felt from a pair of hands. You always felt at peace with Joel, though, so you weren’t surprised that his hands had this effect on you. You focused on the rough pads of his skin against the smooth texture of your own, taking in big breaths of air through your nose as your crying spell passed through you. Now you were thinking a little more clearly and felt a little embarrassed by the fact that Joel had walked in on you crying over a thread on a pillow case. Not that he’d ever know that’s what you were crying about. 

“It's okay. I'm sorry if i scared you or anything,” you started, opening your eyes to meet Joel's dark gaze. You offered him a small smile. “I really just need to learn how to deal with these cramps without them taking over my day. They seem to be getting worse and worse each month.” Your hands trailed up to grip his forearms, squeezing them affectionately as a wave of exhaustion flitted through your body. 

Joel's eyes squinted slightly. “Cramps, huh?” he mused, the corner of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly. In the far corner of his mind, he recalled a younger Tommy swearing by a foolproof activity that helped one of his girlfriends with her cramps when medicine didn’t cut it. He wasn’t sure he believed Tommy then, or even now, for that matter. But he knew how much you struggled with the pain, and he’d feel like a real jerk if he didn’t at least give this a go. 

“Think I know somethin’ that could help with that.” He pulled your head forward, pressing a chaste kiss on top of your forehead before dropping his hands and pushing off of the bed. You were slightly dazed, partly at the display of affection but also at the quickness in which Joel was walking to the bathroom. When he came back into the room with an old towel, you couldn’t help but look at him suspiciously. 

“Joel…”

“Do you trust me?” He asked, tossing the towel on the bed and leaning down to look at you, eye to eye. His demeanor was calm, but his eyes shined with a hint of mischievousness, and the smirk on his mouth was nothing but trouble. It made him look younger, almost. Like the gray in his beard and around the temples of his hair was there prematurely. You wondered if he was like that more before the outbreak, and you reveled in this glimpse of his past self that he was allowing you to see. 

“Of course I do.” Your answer was absolute, eyes showing no signs of distrust or wariness as you maintained contact with Joel’s. He reveled in the sureness of your answer, in the fact that it didn’t even take you more than a second to respond to his question. The smirk became a full blown grin, and you couldn’t help but mirror it on your own face as you wondered what the heck this man was thinking. 

“Good. In that case, I'm gonna go clean myself up,” his lips pressed against yours in a swift kiss before he backed away, fingers stretching to the hem of his t-shirt. “You’re gonna strip out of those panties, spread that towel out underneath you, and wait for me to come back. Okay?” One of his eyebrows notched up, awaiting your response. 

“Sir, yes, sir,” you teased, sending him off with a mocking salute. It earned you an eye roll, something he had been picking up more and more from Ellie's influence, no doubt. The sound of your giggle followed him into the bathroom, where he quickly worked to discard his dirty clothes and rinse off. The thought of you laying in bed with just his t-shirt on had him adjusting himself underneath the water stream. 

Meanwhile, you were working at a slower pace. 

You gingerly took the threadbare towel between your hands, kneeling up on your knees to place it where you thought would work best. You were starting to get an idea of what Joel was planning, and while you’ve never done anything like this before, you weren’t absolutely hating it. After you had smoothed the fabric out, you climbed back against the pillows, hooking your thumbs under the waistband of your panties and sliding them down. The pad on the inside showed slight signs of blood, so at least you weren’t bleeding too heavily right now. Usually that came after a day or two of the cramps. 

You were combing your fingers through your hair when Joel walked back into the room, pausing at the threshold while you both took each other in. His hair was damp, droplets of water occasionally dripping on his forehead, brushed back at the edges and the tops to keep it out of his face. He had been growing it out a little longer, though you knew when summer fully came around, it’d be time to clip it. 

He’d changed out of a plain, gray t-shirt into another plain, gray t-shirt - clearly a staple in his wardrobe - and you had to admire the way he was filling it out. The sleeves hugged the middle of his biceps, straining against the pure muscle that had been building up. The shirt fit loose around his chest, but you could see the way it was snug around his tummy area, the small pouch of his stomach highlighted by the thin material. 

You weren’t the only one who had been eating better since arriving at Jackson; Joel was starting to bulk up and you were loving it. 

Having ended his workday earlier, and foreseeing spending the rest of the day in bed with you, he had pulled on a pair of flannel pajama pants that clung to his thighs and offered very little to the imagination when it came to the thick imprint between his legs. The sight of him had your thighs clenching together automatically, heat racing through your body like a fever. 

And he knew it, too. You could tell by the smirk on his lips, the way his gaze strayed from your eyes to your legs. He loved having that affect on you, loved seeing how needy you became by just the thought of being with him. 

He walked to the other side of the bed, his eyes focused solely on you in his red shirt, the way your legs were crossed at the bottom, giving him just the smallest peak of bare skin underneath. You listen to him so well, he couldn’t help but admire. You gave him your trust so easily, and that was one of the few things that Joel considered to be precious in this world. He'd never make you regret that choice. 

Leaning up on your elbows, your body naturally turned towards him when he finally settled himself on his side next to you. One of his arms slipped behind your head, tucking you into his body as the other came up to guide your face to his. His lips were soft against your own, and all the tension you had felt from crying earlier completely disappeared. 

Your hands clung to his arm as he kissed you, a soft sigh escaping through your lips. Joel took the opening to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue against your bottom lip before dipping it into your mouth. Your mind was growing fuzzy, and you simply let Joel manipulate you how he wanted, eagerly offering yourself to him. 

His mouth stayed on yours, your noses brushing against each other with every tilt of the head, but his hand strayed from your cheek. It paved a path to the collar of the t-shirt, where he fisted the material and tugged it towards himself, halfway pulling you on top of him with the movement. Your hands flung out to his chest to stop yourself from completely crashing into him, and a groan sounded against your mouth as Joel felt the tips of your fingers dig into the skin. 

He soon abandoned the collar, letting his palm slide down the expanse of your torso and bunching the shirt up a little before settling it right over your lower abdomen, fingers splayed out wide against your bare skin. The heat radiating from his palm on your skin was like your own personal heating pad; the soreness that ebbed from your cramps seemed to dissipate the longer his hand rested against your skin, the action making your head spin as you focused on breathing through your nose as Joel’s tongue traced along yours. 

Joel’s mouth trailed from your lips down to your jaw, down to your neck. The stubble growing on his face scratched at your skin when he nuzzled himself in the crook of your neck, causing a combination of a laugh and a moan to flutter past your lips. You could feel him smile against your skin before nipping at it gently, using his lips and tongue to ebb the slight pain away. You could feel him sucking at your skin, and you knew in the morning you’d regret the red and purple marks that would litter your skin, but right now, the feeling was absolute heaven. 

“Spread those legs for me, baby.” The words were whispered against your skin, accompanied by a quick tap to your thighs. You didn’t hesitate to obey; your left leg fell to the side while you rested your right leg on top of Joel's. His hand slipped from your stomach to your upper thigh, gripping the fleshy inside as he helped adjust it higher on his body. 

The cool air from the fan had you shivering as it made contact with your bare skin, emphasizing the wet slick that had formed between your legs. Joel's mouth found itself back on yours, his kiss turning punishing, almost, as his hand slowly moved down your inner thigh; his teeth were biting and pulling at your lower lip, his fingers were digging into your skin as he kneaded and gripped your thigh. 

“Joel,” you mewled, stretching up slightly to angle your hips closer to his hand. You were settled in the crook of his elbow, and his arm came up to bare against your throat ever so slightly. He essentially had you in a headlock, and you were helpless to anything he administered. Goosebumps prickled along your skin, and you whined once more when his fingers brushed against the crease of your leg. 

“Shh, s’okay, baby. Let me take care of you,” his words were soothing, soft. A complete contrast to the way he was handling your body, and it was all you could do but nod in response, eyes wide and trusting as they held contact with him. His pupils were so dilated that you could barely see the rim of brown, even this close. 

Another sharp tap to your inner thigh had you gasping, and Joel's mouth formed into a smirk as his calloused fingers eased the spot. You’d like to blame the hormones fluttering around your body for the desperation you were feeling for Joel, but part of you knew that he simply just had this affect on you. You always grew so needy for his attention, for his touch. Being with him was the only time your brain truly shut off and allowed you to feel safe, relaxed. 

His fingertips were stroking the inside of your thigh like it was the strings on one of his guitars, a slow but firm sensation that had you humming; he was playing a different kind of instrument with you. You could feel yourself growing slicker, the bubble in your chest expanding as he teased you, touched you. 

“Joel, please…” you trailed off, turning your head to the side and bumping the edge of his jaw with your nose. His gaze had slipped to where his fingers were caressing your skin, basking in the suppleness of your skin that so vastly compared to the roughness of his. You felt like a dream. 

“Such pretty manners,.” he mocked, grinning to himself before meeting your eyes once more. “Since you asked nicely, though…” The kiss he pressed on your nose was soft, but your focus was on how his fingers were finally crossing over the crease in your thigh, finally trailing down to your core. 

The first swipe of his fingers through your folds had a small moan emit from your mouth, and a curse came from Joel’s as he felt how wet you were already. “Shit, baby,” he muttered to himself more than anything, watching his fingers as he lifted them up into the light to see the shine. Chest heaving, you watched as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, watched as he placed them on his tongue before closing his lips around the digits and sucking on them while he pulled them out. 

His fingers were now wet with his spit, evident by the thin strand of saliva still connecting his mouth to his fingers. The sight alone had your toes curling against the mattress, your mouth open slightly as you watched him bring his hand back down to your pussy. Your breath left you as his second swipe was firmer, the tips of his fingers passing along your clit for a brief moment before moving back down. 

His forearm flexed slightly against your neck, his free hand moving down to brush against the top of your chest. One of your hands moved to grip his arm, nails digging into skin ever so slightly as Joel’s fingers brushed your entrance, swirling around slightly to gather the wetness that had formed. A soft sigh left his mouth as he felt you, and the next moment, two of his fingers were swiftly pushing inside of you. 

“Joel!” You gasped out, back arching into his touch as he pumped his fingers into you once, twice, three times before pulling them out. Joel huffed out a laugh at your whine from the loss of contact, glancing down at you to see your reaction to him circling your clit with the pad of his thumb. He was rewarded with the softest of sighs, and the sight of your eyes rolling shut while your mouth parted open. 

He didn’t hesitate to capture your lips with his, his mouth against yours as firm as his thumb on your clit. The kiss was quick, and Joel’s nose brushed against yours as he pulled back ever so slightly. “Such a pretty girl, achin’ for me to fill you up. My fingers feel real nice against your pussy now, don't they, baby?” 

A short and snappy nod was your form of a response, as you were solely focused on the way Joel’s middle finger was circling your clit now. Your hips bucked up as waves of pleasure wracked your body, Joel’s expert fingers bringing you relief you so desperately needed. The action had Joel smirking above you, had his hips grinding slightly against your thigh in a sad attempt at getting some friction for his now hard cock. 

Joel pulled back from his admissions on your clit, sliding his middle finger through the center of you before slowly inserting it back inside you. The gasp that left your mouth was music to his ears, and he began moving it in and out, curling it up once it was fully inside your wet pussy. Head falling back against Joel’s arm, your legs widening even further as Joel picked up a steady rhythm with his one finger. 

“So good, Joel,” you rasped, voice breathless as Joel’s finger curled against the spongy part inside of you that had your body jerking in response. Licking your lips, you pulled the bottom lip into your mouth, teeth sinking in as the pleasure continued to build up in your body. Your right hand moved to rest on his wrist, while the other stayed gripping his left forearm. 

Basking in your praise, Joel withdrew his middle finger and, when he pumped it back inside, added his ring finger. The addition had you groaning, feeling his two fingers stretch you out slowly as he pushed them inside and pulled them out. You felt Joel’s lips press against your forehead as he worked to pick up the pace, and soon all that could be heard in the room was the wet sound of your pussy being fucked by his fingers. 

“God, I could listen to you all night,” he mumbled, curling his fingers in a “come here” motion inside you and marveling at how drenched you sounded. “So fuckin’ wet for me, sweetheart. Haven’t even taken my cock yet, either, you needy thing.” 

His words only sparked the fire inside your chest even more, and soon you were moaning his name over and over again in some kind of sick prayer as he filled you with his fingers. Your mouth dropped open as his thumb moved to glide against your clit, pleasure radiating throughout your body. 

Your fingers dug half-moon indentions in Joel’s tanned skin as the waves of pleasure finally crested. 

Your body went rigid in his hold as your orgasm peaked, his fingers never ceasing in motion as your hips began to shake against his hand. He muttered soft praises as you came, moving his arm from across your chest and intertwining your fingers with his. You gasped for air as you came down, thighs twitching ever so slightly as you soon became putty against Joel’s body. 

Only then did he pull his fingers out from inside of you. He kissed your forehead once more, cupping your drenched pussy with the palm of his hand. Your chest was heaving still from the orgasm, body feeling tired once more but for a completely different reason. Resting your head back on Joel’s arm, you glance up at him, expecting him to move his hand away and maybe help you clean up. 

Instead, Joel’s dark gaze was solely focused on your pussy again. Instead of moving his hand away, he slowly moved it up your center, stopping only when his middle finger brushed against your clit. He moved his hand to the side slightly, letting the tips of his other fingers brush against the sensitive nub, before sliding it the other way. His action was slow, methodical even. 

“Joel,” you ventured, squeezing his hand that rested in yours. His jaw twitched, but that was the only response you got. He leaned up on his elbow, your hand moving up along the mattress as he did so. Now, your interlaced hands rested above you, on the pillow, as Joel’s upper body hovered on top of yours. 

Ever so slowly, Joel resumed the movement of his hand, sliding to one side before moving it to the other. His fingers all brushed against your clit, and the overstimulation you felt had your thighs closing together. 

“Keep ‘em open, baby.” Joel admonished, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. His free hand pushed away your left leg before returning back to your clit, and you swore you could feel the wetness lingering on your skin from him doing so. The roughness of the towel underneath you prickled at your skin as your hips twitched from the continued pleasure. 

“Joel,” you ventured again, this time more of a plea than anything. Tears formed on your waterline when he picked up the pace, his hand firmly rubbing against your clit each time he moved it. That bubble of pleasure formed more quickly in your chest, the feeling fiery and almost suffocating as Joel’s movements were relentless. 

“Give me one more,” his voice was rough, distant. “Just one more.” His hand dipped to cup your pussy once more, gliding up through your folds and moving the wetness from there up to your clit. The added lubrication and friction as Joel increased his pace had you crying out, body arching forward at the onslaught of pleasure. 

Your orgasm approached much faster this time, and you could feel your slick dripping down your skin onto the towel. “Oh my God,” you whimpered, your hand painfully holding onto Joel’s while the other, which had moved to rest on his hip, gripped his t-shirt. “Oh, God.” 

This time, when you came, the bubble dropped from your chest and to your stomach and your body went limp as soon as your orgasm tore through you. Your mind was a haze of euphoria, and if you were more cognizant you would have been embarrassed at the feeling of your wetness squirting out from you, would have felt heated at the way Joel praised your body. Instead, you were blissfully gone, basking in the sensation that only Joel’s fingers knew how to bring you. 

Joel’s hand slipped from yours as he pulled his arm up from underneath you, and before you were even aware of the shift, he was up on his knees, moving in between your legs and tugging his flannel pants down. “Gotta fuck you, baby. Jesus Christ, you came so good for me.” His hands bracketed your head as he leaned up against your body, the head of his leaking cock pressed against your wet slit. 

You hummed at his praise, wrapping your weak arms around his neck as you shifted your thighs a little wider to accommodate for his hips. You weren’t entirely sure you could handle another orgasm, but you knew you were desperate to have him inside of you. His head ducked down to yours, and you enthusiastically pressed your lips against his, enveloping his hips with your legs in consent. 

With a nip at your bottom lip, he slowly pressed the tip of his cock in between your folds, gathering the wetness that had accumulated near your entrance before moving his hips even further. The head of his cock pushed into your pussy, stretching you out even more than his fingers did previously. Joel groaned into your mouth as he pumped his hips slightly, pulling out of you before sinking just the tip inside you again.  

“Fuck, sweetheart. My fingers didn’t stretch out your pussy enough, huh? S’fuckin’ tight as hell around my cock.” One of his hands came to brush aside your hair, cupping the side of your face gently while his hips snapped into yours. You cried out against his mouth, the feeling of being filled so suddenly causing you to wince slightly. You welcomed this pain, however, as it quickly gave way to pleasure the more Joel rocked his hips against yours. 

Joel rested his hips against yours for a moment, his head falling down to your chest as he reveled in the tightness surrounding his cock. His breaths came out in short pants, the hand laying next to your head turning into a fist against the mattress. Your hips move up slightly, seeking out the pleasure even after coming twice before, and it brings Joel in further, causing you both to curse. 

“So desperate for me to fuck you,” Joel’s words are accented by short, quick thrusts up inside of you. He pushed up off of you, your arms falling to the bed beside you while your legs fall open as they untangle from his waist. His hands grip the inside of your thighs, and he leans his weight forward a little, pinning your legs to the bed. 

“I am, Joel. P-please fuck me,” you beg, gripping the sheets between your fingers as your hips meet his thrusts. Joel starts off slowly, implanting you fully on his cock before slowly pulling back until just the tip presses against your pussy. His bruising grip on your thighs holds your legs open while he works himself in and out of you, eyes cast on how your slick coats his cock, the occasional red streak coloring his flesh. 

A stray curl of hair falls from his previously brushed back hair, and you itch to swipe it back into place, but his pace quickens and your hold on the bed keeps you from banging against the bed frame. The sound of his cock entering your wet pussy fills the room, the indecency of it causing your skin to flush with heat. Joel’s groans start to find time with your whimpers, and soon the noises of sex are emitting throughout the bedroom, throughout the house. 

Joel’s hands move away from your thighs, traveling up your stomach and pushing up his red t-shirt to see your boobs bouncing with each thrust. He admires the peaks of your nipples, the way goosebumps arise on your flesh as it’s exposed to the cool air, before bringing both hands to grip onto them. His thumbs and forefingers pinch at your nipples, the pain mixing in with the pleasure seamlessly. 

Your eyes fall shut on a moan, body arching into his touch as you clench around Joel, causing him to curse. The familiar sensation of heat fills your body, that third orgasm floating slightly out of reach. You move one of your hands down to your pussy, resting it on your mound. Your fingertips brush against Joel’s cock every time he withdraws, and you moan at how slick he feels before bringing your fingers to your clit. 

“That’s it, baby. Make yourself come on my cock,” Joel encourages, gaze focused on the way your fingers nimbly play with your throbbing clit. His hands squeeze your breasts roughly one last time before he leans up, gripping your ankles and bringing your legs to rest on top of his shoulders. Your thighs press against his cock as he fucks you, adding in another level of pleasure for him as he fights back his orgasm. 

“Just like that, Joel. Just like that…oh!” Your cries fill the room as he pounds into you, your fingers increasing the pace against your clit. Your movements are shaky, not precise in the slightest, but you’re still sensitive and wound up from your previous orgasms that it doesn’t take much to get your third one going. With a few clumsy swipes of your middle finger against your clit, and Joel’s cock ruthlessly hammering in and out of you, your final orgasm floods through your body. 

Joel curses as he feels your pussy clench around him, making his movements stagger with how tight you become. He gives a few more deep thrusts, his own movements becoming shaky and less precise, and he soon slips out of you, rubbing the length of his cock along your pussy lips as you gush with your orgasm. With a grunt, he follows soon, his own cum spurting out of his red cockhead and on to your lower stomach. 

Your legs fall meekly to the bed again, and Joel’s body sags forward a little before he props himself back up with his hands. The sound of you both panting is all that can be heard as you both come down from your orgasms; you, eyes closed and mouth open. Joel, eyes open and mouth closed, nostrils flaring slightly as he regulates himself. 

It takes a moment before you both get back to yourselves, but when you do, you become increasingly aware of the wet feeling underneath your lower body, which causes you to giggle. “Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t get around to cleaning my sheets today, huh?” 

A snort comes out of Joel, his head shaking slightly as he moves to brush back his hair. He takes in the sight of you, freshly fucked and thouroughly spent, and can’t help but grin. He might be older, but he relishes the fact that he can still please you like this. That you actually want him to do so. Makes him feel like a god among men. 

He sees the tears around your lash line from your last two orgasms, and he leans forward slightly to wipe them away with his thumb, triggering in his mind the conversation you both had before this all started. “Feelin’ alright?” His gaze moves around your body, checking to see if he hurt you in any way. He notes the red marks against the side of your neck, the cum on your lower stomach and the beginnings of many small bruises along the inside of your thigh from where he gripped them to keep them open. 

He’d be more worried about those if he didn’t know how much you loved having him mark you up. 

“Just peachy,” you grinned at him, propping yourself up on your elbows to take in the mess below you. Joel leaned in to meet you, his kiss soft and soothing as his lips slid against yours. After a moment, he pulls away again, awkwardly shuffling to the edge of the bed before standing up. Hiking up his pants, he moves to the bathroom to get a washcloth to start cleaning you up. 

After wiping away his cum and your wetness, he gently helps you off the bed, holding your arm as your legs fumble when your feet hit the ground. His pride grows then, and you smack his arm playfully when you catch sight of his grin. “Sorry,” he mutters, pressing a kiss against the side of your head before moving to gather up the dirty towel from the bed. He tosses it into the hamper before leading you to the bathroom. 

There, he draws you a hot bath, guiding you in the tub and before pulling his clothes off and joining you. It’s a cramped space, the bathtub not technically suitable for two, but you make it work. You lean your head against Joel’s shoulders, sinking into his body as his arms wrap around your middle. You know you should do something with your bedding soon, should make sure you have the guest room set up so the two of you can sleep somewhere remotely comfortable tonight, but for now, you bask in his presence. 

“Thank you for taking care of me, Joel.” You say softly, closing your eyes and letting the hot water ease away any lingering soreness your body has. His arms tighten around you as you trace mindless shapes against his thighs. He tilts his head to the side, kissing your forehead before resting his on top of yours. 

“Anytime, baby.” His breathing evens out with yours, stubble rubbing against your forehead as he speaks. “I’ll always be here to wipe your tears away.” 

taglist *:·ﾟ @hiroikegawa

[landosjpg]

cowboy like me | ln

the one where you unexpectedly fall in love with someone just like you, but it doesn’t turn out as you expected.

lando norris x fem!reader

word count: ~1.8k

warnings: strangers to lovers to strangers again (lando is a player lol), smut (MINORS DNI), slight choking, spit, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (don't do this), a little of praise, the tiniest bif of fluff, angst in the end

please tell me if i'm forgetting anything!

note: hi, hello, i'm back! this took me way longer than i had intended but i went through a little writer's block and found myself staring at my screen for hours without writing a single word. this being said, not my proudest work but at least we're getting somewhere. this is the last part of this series i started a few weeks ago, it's not proofread but hope you enjoy it!

very much against your will, your dad had dragged you with him to the annual christmas dinner that he and some old friends of his had been planning for weeks. he had promised you would leave early, but of course it was only a white lie so you would put up with it without much complaint.

that's how you found yourself sitting all alone in a small bench in the corner of the crowded bar, trying your best to ignore everything that was going around you, a little overwhelmed. you barely knew your dad's friends, and since he was busy entertaining some of them, you had decided to just get away from all of it for as long as possible.

"mind if i sit there?" a masculine voice took you back to reality, making you look up from where you were scrolling on your phone.

you quickly recognized him: lando norris, the son of one of your dad's old classmates. your dad had mentioned him once or twice, but you didn't really know much about him.

uninterested, you shrugged and scooped a little to the side to leave some room for him to sit. he did so, sighing as you went back to your phone when silence fell hard between you two, his back resting against the bench and his eyes scanning the crowd.

"want to dance?" lando broke the silence after a few minutes, and you felt his eyes on you. you cocked an eyebrow at him, surprised with his question. your eyes went back to the crowd when you noticed that the music was louder than before; everyone had a drink in their hands and while some people engaged in conversation, others swinged to the rhythm of the music.

"you don't actually want to dance," you finally answered with a roll of your eyes and a low chuckle.

"come on, don't be boring!" he insisted, standing up and offering you his hand with a smirk. you considered turning him down again, but ended up accepting his offer with a sigh, if you were gonna be forced to attend that stupid dinner, you might as well enjoy yourself for a while.

you took his hand in yours and he pulled you up before quickly guiding you to the crowd.

୨୧

only about an hour later, you found yourself in the elevator to his apartment, your body pressed to the mirror as his hands rested on your lower back and your arms wrapped around his neck while you exchanged hungry, desperate kisses.

after a few dances and some small talk, his lips had found the spot right under your ear as he whispered how gorgeous you looked in that dress. he was quick to suggest calling a taxi, and you nodded in agreement without even having time to think about it.

just one night, no strings attached. you both wanted the same thing.

he guided you through the corridor to his apartment the second the elevator's doors opened, his hands holding your hips as you walked backwards. he pressed you against the door, lips still locked as he looked for his keys in the pockets of his jeans.

as he opened the door, his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you against him. he ushered you inside, quickly trapping your body once again between him and the wall of his entryway. his hands traveled down from your waist to your ass as he attacked your lips again, making you whimper when he gave you a gentle squeeze.

his fingers slipped down to the back of your thighs, where he softly patted your skin over your dress, instructing you to jump. you immediately complied, legs wrapping around his waist while his hands cupped your ass, pulling your dress up so he could feel the warmth of your skin.

lando softly groaned against your lips when your fingers found their way to his hair and tugged on it softly. he pressed his body closer to yours, leaving no space between you two and making you feel his hardness against your thigh now that your dress was pooling at your hips.

"fuck," you mumbled, clenching around nothing.

"can't wait to be inside you," he whispered in between kisses, making you whimper as you felt one of his hands sliding between your legs, fingers pulling your underwear to the side.

he pulled away ever so slightly, just enough to look at your eyes as he coated two of his digits in your arousal before sliding them inside your pussy. your eyes fluttered close almost immediately, another sigh leaving your lips as your walls enveloped him perfectly.

"eyes on me, baby. wanna see those pretty eyes," his voice was low, his breath against your lips making you try to grind down on his palm.

you obeyed once again, looking at him through half-lidded eyes as he slowly pumped his fingers into you, teasingly. one of your hands cupped his cheek as you admired his features, your eyes finally locking into his green orbs, the intensity on his gaze making you clench around his digits.

"feels so good," you panted, trying to keep your eyes open as you held yourself on his neck. "need more," you added, biting your lower lip to hold back a louder moan as you felt him curl his fingers inside of you.

"impatient, are we, baby?" he asked with a chuckle.

"please, lando," you panted, your voice sounding weaker than you intended. at your plea, you felt him withdrawing his fingers from your core and bringing them to your mouth.

he gently tapped on your bottom lip, prying you to open your mouth for him. your lips parted slowly and he didn't waste any time to slide his fingers inside, making you taste yourself on him. you softly hummed and felt your eyelids finally giving up as you sucked on his fingers eagerly.

"good girl," he murmured, pulling his digits out againt and slowly moving to undo his jeans.

as he still held you against the wall, his pants and underwear pooling at his feet, he spat on his hand before stroking his cock a couple of times, his eyes on your face as you looked down at him. he tapped on your chin so you would look at him as he positioned himself at your entrance, the pink flush on your cheeks bringing a smile to his face as he started pushing inside of you slowly, both of you moaning in unison as you enveloped his whole length.

he pushed you further into the wall for added support, one of his hands on your hip and the other resting on the wall. lando found the spot between your jaw and your collarbone and hid his face as he bottomed out, a muffled grunt leaving his lips as he felt you clenching around him already.

he let you adjust to his size for a few seconds before starting to roll his hips into yours slowly, starting to pick up the pace as he left small, wet kisses on your neck and up to your jaw.

"fuck, baby, taking me so well," he panted when his lips reached yours, swallowing a moan from your throat as he licked into your mouth.

one of his hands slid between your legs, fingertips finding your clit and lazily starting to play with it as he fucked you. the added stimulation had you rolling your eyes back, your fists holding his shirt as he pushed you against the wall again and again, his lips muffling the filthy sounds coming out of your mouth.

"oh my god," you whined, feeling his thrust become harder and his cock reaching even deeper inside you, your hands finding their way under his shirt so your nails could dig on his lower back, urging him closer.

you felt his hand creeping up from your pussy to your neck, fingers circling around your throat and applying a slight pressure on the sides of your neck, making you throw your head back against the wall with a loud mewl.

"'m close," you managed to choke out in between pants, feeling the knot in your stomach about to snap when his grip on you became tighter, fingers bruising your delicate skin.

his thrusts became sloppier, breath heaview as his low, raspy moans sent you over the edge. your body tensed up and your pussy clenched around him as you cried out.

the tight grip on his cock was enough for lando to spill inside you only a few seconds later, thrusts lazy as he rode both of your orgasms out. he finally let go of your throat as you panted into each other's mouths, his hands now holding your shaking legs around his hips.

he slowly let go of you, placing you back on your feet tenderly. he helped you get out of your dress, and walked you to his bathroom to get you cleaned. the nice gestures took you by surprise, you had never had a guy seem to care like that.

not that you had really wanted it either, but when he guided you to his bed, covered both your bodies with a blanket and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, you couldn't help a smile from creeping up to your lips.

and it wasn't what you had promised before leaving the bar during the christmas dinner, but you found your way back to his bed only a few days later. and inevitably, you did again the very next week. it felt different this time, falling for someone. he cared, he made sure to make you feel loved every single day for a little over two months.

but when he had to leave again for pre-season testing, you felt everything crumbling when you caught yourself checking your phone for the tenth time that minute, in hopes that his name would pop on your screen again.

you looked at the last text you sent him, asking if he had landed already. only for it to not get delivered.

you knew he had. you had seen pictures of him at the airport posted by fans on social media hours ago. you sighed as you realized that he had, most likely, blocked your number, not wanting to do anything with you anymore.

and you should've expected it, you had heard stories about his ways of playing around. but for a few months, you had believed he could be the one for you.

you felt stupid, heart-broken even. you had fallen head over heels for him, and now all you knew is you would never be able to love anyone like you had loved him again.

[justpeaxchy]

'Why not me?'

Warnings: Jealousy, a "little" misunderstanding between Hiccup and reader.

A/n: !Fem reader! I recommend reading this as a part two to this short writing I did, but either way it can be read on its own! This was originally intended as a separate work but here we are ig lol.

Hiccup's eyes followed your figure once more, watching as you hauled more wood for another house that was "accidentally" burned down again. The report came rather quickly that the Twins had performed another prank and it somehow led to a "small" devastation, as they called it, on a viking's innocent home. You called for Astrid again, who was managing Stormfly as she carefully placed down the pieces needed for the home to repair it, and gestured to the new pile of wood that lay on the ground. She nodded and went back to her work with a glare sent towards the two twins who merely stood next to the burnt heap, giggling among themselves.

He wouldn't admit it, but Hiccup had been noticing more of Berk starting to flock around you as they had finally seen the two of you spend more time together. It brought a certain emotion he couldn't quite pinpoint. For one, most of them only started talking to you since they recognized you as someone now "close" to the Chief. On the other hand, they only wanted to get closer with you because of your connection. Everyone knew Hiccup on Berk, so he was puzzled - and a tad bit angry - that a good portion of them acted as though you never even existed and he was someone on a higher pedestal because of the position handed down to him.

Of course, on the outside, it looked as though they were treating him as normally as they would've before - with the due respect for a Chief - but Hiccup noticed the slight difference, especially with you. He didn't know if you did though. It bothered him in a way he couldn't vocalize it, unusually so. He had barely begun developing his relationship with you, taking the small steps you needed; the ones he was more than willing to take.

So, when these people decided to come in and sneak their way down the path he treaded with you - it made him upset him in more ways than one. He even heard Snotlout ogle over you at one point. He had heard his fanatics before but, for some strange reason, it brought him to the conclusion of physically pushing him out of the Forge where he was trying to gather his thoughts in peace.

Hiccup fumbled with the charcoal pencil in his hand, trying to drown out the noise around him that was the daily turmoil of vikings. He told himself to stay focused on the sketch someone had wanted for a new saddle before handing it off to Gobber - that was supposed to be the plan. His idea of having himself under control for the day were seemingly forgotten as he managed to steal a swift glance in your direction.

Out of everything, Hiccup Haddock did not expect for himself to act up when someone offered to help take the load of wood out of your arms. Perhaps he would've felt better if it wasn't Eret son of Eret who had willingly taken it out of your arms. Hiccup knew he wasn't losing his eyesight when he had seen Eret's hands lightly brush yours when he took the burden of wood out of your hands. It puzzled the Chief as to why he was even feeling this way.

Hiccup wasn't blind or numb to the fact that Eret, ever since he arrived at Berk, was known for his physique and his striking appearance. As well as being a dragon trapper in the past, of course. Sudden thoughts came to Hiccup's mind as he watched the short interaction between you two, not understanding the emotion that gripped his heart when he had seen your smile to the man who offered you his help. He knew that you were getting used to smiling more - he was the one who told you to try it out more - but he pondered over the question in his head that wouldn't leave him alone: Why did it take you longer to smile at him like that?

As if Hiccup's body moved on its own, he called for Toothless, who had been resting by his side in the Forge, and stomped his way to your direction. You were busy directing Astrid for where she should place the wood on top of the house just in case she missed a spot or didn't put it down correctly. You hadn't expected for a hand to grab yours, with such urgency and yet clothed with a gentle tug, to pull you away from the task you were occupied with. "Hey! What is this-"

Your words were interrupted as you caught Hiccup pulling you closer to his side as he called out for the Twins, "Ruff, Tuff! You're going to be the ones to handle this. It was your doing and the least you could do is tell Astrid where to go from here, okay?" He gave them no time for a proper response, other than the annoyed grumbling that came, as he led you beside Toothless. Confusion clouded your mind as your eyes followed him hauling himself on the night fury and reach out his hand for yours as if telling you to do the same.

"Hiccup, you know I have my own dragon, right-" He swiftly grabbed your hand that was slowly reaching out for his in the middle of your speech as he remained silent, "And I guess that doesn't matter because-" Your startled scream soon took over as Toothless shot into the air without warning, causing you to cling onto Hiccup with all of your strength you could possibly muster. It made you question how he could so easily ride the night fury - being that they were known to be the fastest dragon alive. "H-hey! Where are we going?"

Hiccup lightly patted your hand that was settled on his waist, his gaze not moving from the scenery around him. "Just wait a bit, you'll see." He muttered something to Toothless that you couldn't catch due to the high speeds of wind blowing across your face, making you even more nervous. You trusted Hiccup, of course, but sometimes it was obvious that the 'odd' side of himself could get a little carried away. So, you did the only thing you could do in that moment: hold on as tightly as you could as Toothless dived into a deeper part of the woods.

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

"Ah, so this is where you found him." Your legs shakily wobbled off of the night fury who cooed at your ruffled form. Your hair wasn't as neat as you had it before, making you slightly annoyed before turning to Hiccup. "So.. why bring me here?" You carefully inspected him as he hopped off Toothless, much more better than you had, and nervously swing his arms as he normally did in a situation that left him feeling awkward or anxious.

"Why? Oh, you know - just - wanted to spend some time with you. I mean, do you want to spend time with me? Because you don't have to if-" He rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke when he noticed you rolling your eyes at his statement.

"Hiccup, it's too late for me to go back now. You practically dragged me out here on the back of a dragon and I would much rather fly back to Berk than walk." You knew it wasn't a far ways off, but you didn't entirely feel like going all the way back when your legs were recovering from being shot into the air so quickly, "Also, you didn't really give me much of a choice."

You gazed at his hands that seemingly didn't know what do at the moment, hesitating at the thought of grabbing them. "Yeah, I realize that now. That's my fault, sorry." Hiccup muttered out the phrase as if he had been caught doing a scandalous act before stepping closer to you as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I just-" He paused, inhaling as he considered his next words, "I just happen to notice that you've been more.." Another pause; "Occupied with the work load that's been piling up on you recently."

Hiccup inwardly cringed at his reasonings, knowing that it wasn't a good enough excuse as you narrowed your eyes. "Yes? I mean, what do you want me to do? Sit around all day and hope I make some coins by doing nothing?" You sighed and carefully took a step closer to him, the distance between you two slightly bothering you. "I don't want to be like I was before; standing around and barely getting by because of the leftover chores Berk left for me."

Your eyes never left him as he continued to settle on looking at the ground. "Anyway, aren't you the Chief? Shouldn't I be the one saying this to you? I know you've probably got a lot on your shoulders too, not just me." You tried lightening up the mood as Hiccup gently shook his head, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips before it faded once more.

"I know it sounds stupid." He exhaled, as if trying to breathe away the thing that was bothering him, "I'm sorry, but don't you think people should... I don't know.." He shrugged his shoulders, trying to play his next words off casually, "Give you more personal space..?" Hiccup took the risk and glanced up to see your reaction, which wasn't what he expected.

You snorted, then giggled, then covered your mouth as laughter consumed you, watching the way Hiccup's gaze falter slightly as he took in the sight. "What? Personal space?" You tried your best to grasp in what little air you could as your laughter rang throughout the small cove you two were in. "What're you getting at, Hiccup?" A sudden thought came to mind as you smirked, taking another step closer to the Chief; the nervousness that threatened you earlier having been disappeared. "I hope you're not forgetting when I asked for my own personal space when you came and decided to visit me almost every single day."

Hiccup groaned and rubbed his face, as though a headache were arising. "You know it's not like that! That's not what I meant-" He struggled to speak coherently when your small doses of laughter filled his ears. "Do you like the attention or something? I mean, when Eret touched your hand you seemed pretty okay with it to me." The realization of what he said had finally came to Hiccup before he quickly waved his hands, noticing your smile dim away, "Wait! That's not what I meant-"

"Okay, Hiccup. What're you really getting at? You should know me enough that I won't go out of my way to get the attention of people that I wouldn't want to talk to." You huffed, slightly hurt at the idea that crossed Hiccup's mind. "And I didn't ask for Eret to help me, he was just kind enough to take that load of wood from me - which was very heavy by the way." You crossed your arms, stubbornly taking a step away from him as he decided to take two more steps closer.

"I'm sorry, that was my fault - again - but I didn't mean it in that way. I know that is the complete opposite of who you are, but I-" Hiccup sighed, forcing himself to see what was actually wrong with him. "I think I'm not used to all of these people coming in and talking with you and working with you like they've been friends with you since birth. I guess I got used to-"

Hiccup managed to catch himself before uttering anything else, causing you to questioningly narrow your eyes at him. "Got used to what, Chief?" You held back another burst of laughter at the flustered state of the man before you, watching with intent eyes every gesture he made with his hands.

"N-nevermind. How about we go back and I'll let you work in peace and I won't bother you about it anymore." He reached out for your arm as he began to pull you towards Toothless. "C'mon, here we go-" Hiccup winced as you suddenly maneuvered his hand off your arm with a twist, causing him to let go of your arm as he spun around. "Why would you do that?"

You grinned, the atmosphere from earlier forgotten as you dusted yourself off from imaginary dirt. "Tell me what you were going to say." When he tried to escape the situation with more rambling you cracked your fingers, intimidatingly stepping forward, "Say it."

Hiccup kicked the ground like a toddler as he shook his head. "You're so stubborn.." He barely managed to see your hand getting closer to his ear as you threatened to pinch them before he stepped to the side, potentially saving himself from even more pain. "Alright, alright! Just don't get the ears!" He protectively covered the sides of his face as you triumphantly grinned, awaiting his answer.

"Look, I guess I got used to.." He found himself looking at the ground once more as he spoke. "Having you more to myself." He purposefully mumbled the last bit of his speech, hoping he could somehow get away with it. Much to his despair, however, you still listened to every word.

He heard your footsteps approaching to where he stood and he glanced up to see a delicate smile taking over your features before your hand reached out for his. You held it as if you were handling a precious piece of glass, carefully lifting it away from his side. "Is that really what you think?" Your eyes held a sincerity to them that Hiccup couldn't ignore, making his heart beat slightly faster than before.

When all he could do was nod, you finally took it upon yourself to be the one to hug him first - which you gladly did the moment he gave you his answer. You found yourself smiling into his shoulder as he stood still in his spot for a moment. "Hiccup, just know I'll never be able to look at them in the way I view you. They can't replace what you did, no matter how hard they might try."

When you felt his arms embrace you in return, you couldn't help but let the smile on your face continue to grow as he sighed, his breath fanning your neck in - what sounded like - relief. "Are you upset with me?"

"Not anymore. Maybe if you gave me a kiss I'd be over the moon. But, hey, that's just me." You chuckled when you heard nothing but silence come from him, assuming he was too much in a flustered state to respond.

You squeezed him one final time before letting him go. The weight of your words hadn't settled in until you stepped away from him, causing you to fumble with your hair. "So, we should - probably - uhm, head back -"

Hiccup, noticing your actions, nodded once more before swiftly taking your hand in his as he lead you both back to Toothless. You told yourself not to be consumed with the fluttering of your heart by his simple move, but it became much more of a challenge when he stopped in front of his dragon to face you.

"One more thing before we go." Hiccup pulled you closer to him by your hand he had grabbed, officially closing any remaining distance between you both as his lips met yours. You didn't expect it, which caused you to nearly trip on your own feet before his other arm caught you, still engaged in the kiss as though it had never happened. If you weren't imagining things, you could've sworn you felt him smile in the midst of it all.

You were breathless as he, unfortunately, pulled away from you, gazing intently at your flustered form before guiding you onto Toothless. "So, you're definitely not angry now, right?"

You rolled your eyes as Hiccup readied himself on Toothless, glancing back at you for an answer. "I already said I wasn't..." You folded your arms, making yourself now look like the toddler as he snickered and turned forward.

"Well, you might want to hang on." He gleefully muttered something to Toothless as you stubbornly held your position, which was not hanging onto him at all. When he came to the conclusion that you were rather grumpily not obliging to him, he tapped his dragon to silently tell him to leave.

It was only when Toothless had darted up in the air that you screamed and tightly held onto Hiccup for your dear life, which he quite enjoyed.

[saturnville]

cut, snip, sew.

pairing: lewis hamilton x black oc (she) summary: she's his stylist. he's her boss. warnings: sexual suggestions an: an oldie, but I'm gonna be honest...I don't remember the inspiration for this lol. tags: @boujiestpoet @mauvecherie-writes @saintslewis @greedyjudge2 @vile-harlot @emjayewrites @ggaslyp1 @neewrites @cocobutterqwueen

“Can I touch you here?” 

Lewis Hamilton was never immune to the touch of a woman, let alone the woman in front of him. Every time she draped her hands over his shoulders to fix his collar, slid her fingers in the loops of his pants to ensure their security, and dropped to her knees to take inseam measurements, looking up at him with the biggest doe-like eyes he’d ever seen, all his inhibitions were ready to be abandoned. This day was no different. 

She stood behind him, safety pin bobbing between her lips as she asked the question again. Lewis stiffened and nodded, “Yes.” From the mirror, he saw just the crown of her head above his shoulder blade. She was without platform shoes and seemed much shorter than her confidence would allow. 

She circled her arms around his waist, her fingers tugging at the material to determine how much room he had in the waist. Her cheek, warm and soft, was pressed against his back just momentarily, and his body rushed with warmth. He felt his stomach churn when her manicured nails grazed along his skin. He jerked. 

“You alright?” she asked, finally plucking the pin from her mouth. She instructed him to remain still while she pinned each side of his pants. Lewis exhaled audibly as he reassured her once more. But he could tell by the glint behind her eyes that she knew he was unsuccessfully keeping his desires at bay. 

“M’fine,” he replied thickly, swallowing his pride. “Your hands are soft.” The corner of her lips twitched and her eyebrow quipped. 

“Thank you,” she said after some time. She swiped a jacket off a hanger and brought it in her hands. “Can’t be touching on you with rough hands, now can I, Mr. Hamilton?” 

He gulped. She grinned. “You putting a shirt on under this jacket?” He shook his head. She raised her finger twice as a gesture to remove the thick shirt he wore. If she was to get the correct measurements and ensure it fit the way he wanted it to, she had to measure it the way he intended to wear it. “Take it off.” He was a bit taken aback by her boldness, but she was simply doing her job…right? 

His eyes met hers in the mirror. In a swift motion, he peeled his shirt off. It was her time to take in everything Sir Lewis Hamilton had to offer—from the visually appealing tattoos that decorated his canvas to his toned muscles and beautiful brown skin. She inhaled sharply and blinked once. Get it together, girl, she told herself. You’re friends and you work for him, calm down.

“You want a loose fit or something fitted?” She asked a moment later. She failed to meet his eyes but could hear the amusement in his words as he replied, “Fitted.”

She hummed. “Alright. You’re still the same measurements as last time, so let’s see…” She maneuvered behind him once more and held the jacket behind him. Lewis slid his arms in the sleeves and adjusted it to his liking. 

Then, she was in front of him again, pushing and pulling the fabric to get the desired look, but boy, was he holding on for dear life. He didn’t know how much longer he could take it. She was damn near man-handling him with her bottom lip trapped between her teeth and her hands against his skin. “I’ll shorten the sleeves, take in a few inches in the middle…”

He was able to keep his composure until she looked into his eyes. He wasn’t the tallest person, but neither was she. Without her heels, her forehead was at his collarbone, and at this angle, her eyes were big and doe-like with hints of restraint floating around. “I can pin it here…” Lewis exhaled deeply. His eyes followed her lips which parted slightly. Then, they fell on her neck, where he saw her pulse jump quickly. He inhaled. He could smell the arousal dripping from her. 

Her grip loosened as his heavy gaze broke her facade. Her hand fell downward, coming in contact with the waistline of his strategically pinned pants, which were tented. She jumped. “I’m sorry.” 

Lewis shook his head. “Don’t be.” 

“Lewis…” she said carefully. There was so much to address but neither knew how. They were attracted to one another, sure. They’d had their flirtatious moments, that was true. But this was something different. She was considering dropping to her knees for this man without a care of any consequence. And what spurred her on was by the look in his eye, he’d let her. 

“I just want to—“

Embarrassingly quickly, she cut him off. “—Please.” 

Lewis ducked his head and brought his mouth to hers. The force of the kiss had her moaning loudly against his lips. Her hands pushed at the jacket she worked hard to measure and pin, clawing it off his shoulders.

Her hands finally touched his skin, and not a subtle brushing that occurred when she was working. She felt him. Every riff and ridge of his skin, the raised ink of mature tattoos. She saw their reflection in the mirror behind them. Her eyes fluttered at the sight.

Lewis brought his hand to her neck, squeezing softly. His other hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer than the barrier of their clothes would allow. “I want you,” he said after he pulled away. “Not just sex but…for real.”

She blinked, her fingers trailing over his collarbone, tracing the ink that decorated his body. The air between them was thick with everything they hadn’t said, everything they’d avoided for years. “Lewis,” she began, her voice low, “you have no idea what you’re asking for.”

His grip tightened on her waist. “Then show me.”

Her lips twitched into a dangerous smile. She pushed herself onto her toes, lips grazing his ear as she whispered, “You’re playing with fire, sir.”

His breath caught, but he didn’t pull away. “I want to get burned.”

[uc1wa]

xi hear me out. Taking Dick’s vcard like he’s super curious so he goes to you to ask for help n u r single handedly the catalyst that launches him into being a fratboy in college bc he wants to have sex that good again— so normal over this idea

and the crowd goes fucking crazy for cressie

tags: fem reader, virgin uni!dick, then... frat boy!dick lol, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, oral sex, pussy sniffin’ (for 2 seconds), fuckin' n fuckin' n fuckin', this became way longer than i intended... enjoy!

"are you ready?"

both of your hands hold dick’s shoulders, your knees holding your form up, the warmth of his cock hitting your bare entrance. weary and wide blue eyes watch you, looking up to yours as he nods. "please, please, can’t wait anymore," he begins in a whine, quickly recovering and adjusting his voice to a more even one.

did you ever think that your childhood best friend who went off to uni would be ringing you the week he got home for summer break? of course.

did you expect him to timidly ask you how to fuck during that phone call? never in a million years.

see, dick grayson’s first year of university was full of studying, staying in his dorm, and acing every exam. he went to school a good boy, and wasn’t tempted by parties, clubbing, or the mere idea to get a fake id. the last thing he cared about was girls, wanting nothing more than to make the dean's list.

he was a good boy, but that only went so far. dick realized at some point or another (specifically, when wally had a video called him telling about this girl he was fucking, dick was just slightly jealous) he had to lose his virginity. he wasn’t thirsty for pussy. he knew how to get himself off, but when measuring if he should hookup with a random from campus or you, the answer came easy.

a week into his summer break and he’d brought takeout to your place, the house he’d grown up going to. and when all was said and done, and you’d led him with a hand to your room, his cock was already hard in his pants.

but you didn’t rush, you taught him a woman’s pleasure before you’d decided to ride him. you helped him prepare yourself, his fingers exploring what was your entrance. calloused fingers rubbing and catching the feel of your most sensitive parts, memorizing the face you made when he experimentally curled his fingers. measuring how much pleasure stimulation on your clit gave you. and, as any good boy would, did exactly what elicited moans from you with his fingers alone.

and when you’d felt yourself ready, you decided riding him was the safest option. allowing him time to get adjusted to your hole and finding a slow pace that would make the both of you comfortable.

sinking down onto his length, you watched the way his eyes closed, black waves falling back as his neck fell backward. you felt so much better than his fist.

"ya-ya alright?" you ask, inching down until the man’s full length sits tightly inside of you, checking in with the man before you. and he nods, hands finding the fat of your hips as he begins attempting to lift you.

"p-please, jesus christ, need you to fuckin’ move," he moans, eyes meeting yours once more. without a single thrust, without a full ‘fuck’ yet, dick found himself pussy drunk over you.

the feeling of your sweetness surrounding him was something he could get a high off of, addiction setting in. but when you helped him lift your ass off of his thighs, he moaned your name and it was as sweet as honey the way it hit your ears.

"be nice," you fake-warn with a laugh, finding a small rhythm to fuck his length to, not missing the way dick’s eyes roam your body. from the way your tits bounced with every thrust, your lips that remained parted and the whines you executed, and the way your thighs spread atop his every time you brought yourself down.

dick thanked himself that he asked you to take his virginity. his sweet best friend fucking him like it was her job… could he find himself in a better situation?

the answer was easily yes. because, though dick grayson was a strong man, happy trail littering a strong abdomen and biceps and triceps that flexed every time he brought you down onto his cock, he was still a virgin.

so, when a loud and porn-worthy moan fell between his lips and you felt his cock twitch deep inside of you, you couldn’t blame the man.

red flushed his cheeks as he looked up to you, who found rest against his thighs, hands once more finding place on his shoulders. "fuck, sorry, you’re just… have thought about fucking you since forever," he wasn’t lying, and you slipped a hand to cradle his face.

"hey, you lasted longer than my ex," you remind with a laugh, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, allowing him to come down from his high comfortably.

and every other booty call he gave you that summer was followed by apologies, the food he grabbed from a takeout restaurant, and a mind-blowing fuck.

so, it was only instinct that when he found himself on campus again, he had to find a replacement for you. though, hard, because nobody was you, he was more encouraged to go out. finding himself at a different frat party every other friday, finding a new girl to take to his apartment.

even with his imagination running wild, eyes closed as he attempted to imagine that every pussy was yours. that every ass was yours when he groped it. that every girl was you, he failed every time. nobody fucked him like you did, but that didn’t discourage him.

at the end of the day… he still liked fucking.

and with every frat party in his sophomore year of college, came with ideas of recruitment. flyers filled with infographics thrown at him and greek letters surrounding him.

wally liked his frat, talks of brotherhood and free booze. he wore his letters with pride, and it seemed that every house on campus wanted dick.

for good reason, too. who doesn’t want a tall, ripped, smart stud in their frat? can you imagine the bitches dick pulls from that alone?

and even when he gained his greek letters, found a new girl to fuck every day of the weekend, and consumed enough alcohol to grow his tolerance double from the time he entered his university, thanksgiving break comes around… and it comes around fast.

"hey," dick grayson, new recruit from his frat, says as he’s headed home for the week-long break. a few quick hours and he’s headed into the hometown you'd both grown up in.

"hey, dick," you say from the other line, sitting in your bed, already home for the time being.

"you free anytime this week? ‘m headed home now, will probably be there in the next hour," he says, and you notice a change in his voice. the man who was your best friend had a suaveness in his tone. a sultry seductiveness that you’d never heard leave his lips in all ten years of knowing him.

it’s hard to deny the fact that it made you want him to come to your house before he had the chance to drop his bags off, but... you weren't desperate.

"yeah, i’ve got a few free days," you reply and dick chuckles on the other line.

"hm, doin’ anything tonight?"

dick grayson, home for the holidays with a trunk full of comfortable winter clothes and coats, wasn’t a fucking animal. he went to his house, unloaded his trunk, and grabbed a bite to eat. greeted his adoptive father while a chunk of steak made its way down his throat and he stumbled to slide a pair of easy shoes on.

but, he also wasn’t going to deprive himself of you when he could only imagine you in your bed on the phone with him. when he visualized the way your legs looked in pajama shorts that he’d plan to slide to the side, a tank top that your nipples would poke out of.

oh god, in the few months away, he had matured; took him work to get hard. but when it came to you? the second you opened the door, his hands were holding you in all the places you’d missed him (after seeing your car was the only one in the driveway, of course).

"missed you," he breathed out in your mouth. mint mixed with some chocolate protein shake was all you could taste on his tongue. his mouth moved against yours skillfully, lips moving in a sloppy yet patterned way that had his tongue lapping up every taste of your saliva like a hungry dog.

you laugh, hands wrapping around his neck, pushing scruffy curls out of the way. longer hair than he usually sported, but fuck, did he make it look good. "missed me? or missed fucking me?" you correct, dick’s lips still pressed to yours as one hand knots itself in the back of your hair, his other hand following his brain waves.

the door? no, you deserved more than to be fucked against the hardwood of a fucking door. the couch? he debated falling to his knees while you stood leaning against the wall behind you, tongue salivating at the thought of tasting your sweetness again.

oh, your taste.

his legs made their mind up for him, quads spreading underneath black joggers as his knees hit the ground a little too rough. if you weren’t in a daze of him you’d cringe at the sound of him hitting the floor beneath him. instead, wide eyes looked down at him, finally taking a full look at the man.

maybe you were reminiscent of the first time you were with the man. when you were the one held by your knees as he stared at you with wide eyes. but, there was nothing curious nor naive held in his current gaze. his gaze that, even while on the lower level that his knees brought him, made you feel like prey to a wolf.

wavy and shiny black hair fell just short of his shoulders, some sort of a mullet that suited him in a way you couldn’t explain. the three greek letters of his newfound frat stitched into the navy crewneck that held a ring around his neck. adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows the almost embarrassing build-up of saliva in his mouth.

"not here," you warn.

"yes here."

"dick, come to my fuckin-" you’re cut off by him leaning forward, nose hitting the spot where your own thighs met. skimpy shorts and underwear covering what he wanted most. and like a dog in damned heat, dick takes a long and deep smell of your womanhood, one that makes your hand fly to his hair and a groan leave the depths of his throat.

"are you fucking with me?" and dick chuckles. "you have no idea how much i missed your fuckin’ pussy. fucked a lot of girls this semester and none come close to you."

the sentence makes you cringe. if the man below you was attempting a seduction technique, he was failing miserably. "i don’t wanna hear about your other girlfriends when you have your face in me," another chuckle.

"want me to tell you what i think about when i jerk off?"

another cringe.

"no, you fucking freak," you groan while pulling at the hem of your shorts. dick is quick to help you, fingertips dipping under your underwear in the same movement, allowing them to fall in a pool around your ankles.

"think about fuckin' this pretty pussy," he starts, index finger finding your slit and collecting the wetness on it. "i think about being in this pussy, i think about licking you up and fucking all my cum in you," with every word his lips come closer.

with a lick of his upper lip, a rough hand falls underneath your thigh. guiding you to rest your leg over his shoulder, thick muscle holding you up as you let him maneuver your body. any means to get him to shut the fuck up.

his nose brushes against your womanhood, another deep inhale. "you got me whipped," dick laughs, moving forward while he sticks his tongue out. laying it flat while his fingers help to spread the lips of your entrance. and as soon as he sees the way you instinctively move the muscles that control your entrance, he just knows he has a wet patch of pre leaking from his cockhead.

"shut up," you say, words flowing easily until you inhale sharply when the flat of his tongue falls on your clit. it's hard to hold yourself up, and given the circumstances, you can only be half thankful that the man below you has graced you with muscles that held your partially standing form.

dick grayson, your childhood best friend who-just a few months ago had asked you to take his virginity-was clearly no longer a virgin. without knowing much other than what he's explicitly told you since he's walked inside your home, he has become a womanizer of sorts. a womanizer whose sweet spot was none other than you. because none of the girls he fucked were woman in the way you were.

your eyes peer down, and you're unsure if you're enjoying dick's tongue to the extent that he's giving you himself right now. his blue eyes closed and throat groaning as his mouth moves in ways that have your knees buckling and mouth falling agape. "h-holy fuck," you moan, and dick finds approval in that, palms gripping your soft flesh until one moves to begin playing with your entrance.

no consideration for teasing as the wetness of your core has his cock twitch in his joggers. he needs you, and he doesn't care if it's more than you do him.

though, based on the slick that's dripping from your pussy down his calloused fingers, it's hard to differentiate.

"missed me too, huh?" he asks, lips moving and humming against your sensitive clit, middle and ring finger gliding their way into your entrance with ease. "c'mon... tell me you think about me too," dick groans, too eager to allow you time to adjust to the lengths of his digits filling your hole. instead, finding a pace while he kisses your clit, eyes looking up and meeting yours.

"fuck... yeah, i think 'bout you," you begin, a hand finding his dark waves and tightening into a fist while the other attempts to hold yourself up against the painted wall you supported yourself against. "always think about how pretty ya looked," you moan with a small laugh, and dick meets your laugh, though his fingers never halt.

a small glint of appreciation can be read across his face as he admires yours. admires the hair that's beginning to stick to your face and your lips that are slowly swelling from the pressure of your teeth biting down on them.

"'m not gonna look pretty tonight," he says, the pace of his fingers slowing as he finds a scissoring motion that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. with the help of his head, you straighten yourself once again, regaining composure as you repeat the words he said in your head.

"huh?" you question, and dick smirks something wicked.

"you took the reigns last time, 'm gonna fuck you all up tonight."

and dick grayson, no longer a virgin, no longer a pussy-less nerd, proved himself by staking claim on yours. because, even though he claimed he wouldn't look pretty for you tonight, the way he did when you rode him and introduced him to the world of sex, with sweat dripping off his forehead and onto yours, cum filling your pussy, and fucking you in every position he could think of, he looked ethereal.

dick grayson did as he said he'd do. he fucked you up for the rest of the break. he had you calling him for late-night dick appointments and had you slobbering on his cock just the way he had intended you to. dick had corrupted you in a way you'd never been before; finding yourself sitting and waiting for his call when summer would eventually roll through.

[meanbossart]

Ask compilation: DU drow, Orin, Astarion, lore things and little fun facts.

Trying to make a dent in this dang inbox. As always, thank you so much everyone for your patience and curiosity! Sorry that it is straight up no longer possible for me to reply to everyone, but I will keep doing my best within reason. Enjoy!

Absolutely! I had a lot of requests for bottom Astarion on my patreon which is why I was kind of on a roll there for a minute.

Though, for the record - I am really not very invested in strict bedroom roles at all. Or clear and distinct dominant/submissive dynamics. So please don't overthink it whenever there's a switch, no pun intended.

You wanna know how often they smash? Man, I don't know, I guess fairly often considering their lifestyle post-game (very active, often on the road).

Assuming that everyone agrees that sex doesn't have to involve penetration, I'd say once every other day or less, really depends on the circumstances though. DU drow's libido is much higher than Astarion's, but he's not an animal and can hold off fine. Astarion is likely to be pickier in regards to location and how-recently-have-we-bathed status as well.

I keep meaning to draw him, but I have like... A million things I want to do 😂 so its rough!

BUT you will at least continue to see him in ANE! And I'm sure i'm bound to draw him again in the future.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

If you mean in his bhaalist "AU", where he has the red robe and the extra scars, I imagine he would have gotten it through killing Isobel.

I think as a changeling she probably has the ability to just... Transform her hair however she likes at will, right? And based on her attitude plus some lines we get from Sceleritas about her own former-butler, it sounds like she would be really opposed to being serviced in that way, to me at least.

I see her as pretty aggressively independent with the way she operates, which is another factor that sets her apart from DU drow, who really enjoyed lording over the other Bhaalists and making an errand boy out of Sceleritas, to the point where he practically depended on their help to function.

Neither! I wasn't willing to let anyone take either of my eyes in my first playthrough, LOL.

I have since always given the Volo eye to SOMEONE, usually Gale, but I don't consider that canonical. I don't think anyone was desperate enough to let mister frumpy-hat over there ice-pick their eyes out.

He did do them himself. It was a profoundly stupid display he got caught up in because of Gortash. Also, de-handment is kind of a theme in his life, at least inside his head.

I have a comic about it planned for the future ;)

What do you mean, that's canonical to the game and everything! He loves the cuck chair!

He is an angsty 29-year old in denial. Your interpretation is still perfectly accurate.

Hates the guy. Hates when Shadowheart Astarion people joke about him being the Drizzt of his generation. Hates the guy like literally any countercultural weirdo hates Taylor Swift or the Weeknd. If he saw him at the line in the grocery store DU drow would find a way to roll his eyes loudly just so he could notice being an asshole.

Stay tuned, I'm cooking 🧑‍🍳

If you're asking about game strats, badly, LOL. Pretty sure I died twice to her in my first run and it was a rough way of being thrown into "serious" DnD combat.

With the exception of a couple of encounters that just so happened to turn out SURPRISINGLY cinematic, I'm just realizing that I actually don't think too often about how most of the fights went in real-time! I imagine Autie Ethel's in particular wasn't one that DU drow went into of his own accord, probably rather at a companion's insistence. That's as deep as I've thought about that personally.

Now... Back to game strats. I personally try to get a surprise round on her however I can by sneaking and shooting an arrow or AOE in her general location, since she always stands on roughly the same spot while invisible. I have my companions spread about the arena so we can take her clones down as fast as possible, and as soon as I identify who the real Ethel is I just have the strongest martial characters wail on her until she begs to be let go. Hers is one of the few fights that is actually pretty dang easy at this point for me - and I SUCK at this game.

That would certainly take a while! But, Bhaalist DU drow does kind of have an end goal, actually.

That might also turn into a comic eventually, but it would a rough one.

He pretty swiftly disposed of her, DU drow doesn't like being talked down to, which Minthara very promptly does. Him (and I, by extension) had very limited exposure to her and she was just kind of a speck of dust in his story in particular. Though I have since grown to adore her character in my proceeding runs where I do recruit her!

I guess if he got an invitation and it wasn't particularly painful to arrive at the venue, sure! He would specially love to take Astarion to Gale's wedding ceremony and purposely upstage him at every at every opportunity, LOL.

Yes. He got pretty freaky with the pain-priest. This is gonna sound like a lie but I made him get naked for it without even knowing there was a buff to be gained (I didn't get it, unfortunately, I don't remember whether I failed a check or if I had camp clothes toggled on, so it didn't count as being truly nude). I wasn't taking the game very seriously and just doing dumb roleplay things to see what would happen, LOL.

And I consider that canonical. I think DU drow saw the opportunity to show off his physique And had a strange inkling that this was a practice he was... Somehow familiar with.

Imagine my joy when Astarion and Shadowheart start having a back-and-forth about my absurd display. That's when i knew those were my people, to be honest.

[ayyy-pee]

Can we get some Nanami fluff where he’s caring for reader on her period?

hi bby!!! i am SO LATE with this one and it ended up being super different than what i first imagined it being lol but i felt like it fit the vibe of SIL so here we are with yet another Strangers in Love bit LOL (click the link if you haven't read SIL yet!)

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Summary: Just a little drabble about how Nanami cares for SIL reader on her period...

Genre: Divorced to Lovers AU

What was it you had asked for again?

Nanami stands in the female hygiene product aisle at the drugstore, arms full of various items that he thinks may be beneficial for you. The confident air he exuded when he’d first entered the store has long faded and has been replaced with nothing but nerves. Nanami ticks off the boxes in his mental checklist, because it’s been so long since he’s had to do this for you, or any woman really, that he’s completely second guessing himself.

“Heating pad…” he murmurs under his breath. “Painkillers…chocolates…or does she prefer gummy worms now? Hmm…”

The large variety of products has his head spinning and he’s embarrassed to admit that he’s been standing in this aisle for far longer than he had intended. This is definitely not how he planned his day to go. 

Earlier That Day…

Nanami’s eyes watch the minute hand tick by on his wristwatch. It’s early Friday morning, and he should have left for work by now. But you haven’t gotten up yet, breaking the routine you two have picked back up on after all these years apart. It doesn't matter what day it is, or what time it is, if you're staying over at each other's places, you're up to say goodbye to one another. So you still being asleep is throwing Nanami off. Not that you can’t sleep in from time to time, but you just…don’t usually. 

And honestly, he doesn’t want to leave without saying goodbye to you. 

He can’t bear to mess this up again when your relationship has been going so well since dating again.

So instead, Nanami sets his briefcase down in your foyer and heads to your bedroom. When he opens the door, he’s met with darkness and silence. He can just barely make out your form beneath the blankets. You must be exhausted to be sleeping in and Nanami does not want to disturb you, so he quietly moves to close your door so he can head out. He’ll simply send you a text that he left while you were sleeping. That way it doesn’t seem as though he left without taking you into consideration.

The door is less than an inch from closing when Nanami thinks he hears something, the noise so hushed he almost misses it. He pauses, gives it a few seconds, and just before he moves to close the door again, he hears it once more. There’s no mistaking it, the quiet little sniffle coming from inside the bedroom, followed by an even quieter sob.

He’s moving before he realizes it. Nanami kneels beside your bed, gently peeling the blankets back and although he can’t see you in the dim early lighting, Nanami just knows. You’re crying. For what reason, he doesn’t know. But it kills him all the same.

“What’s wrong, my love?” He asks gently, a hand coming to caress your wet cheek. “Are you okay?”

His question makes you openly cry now, the tears flowing freely as Nanami quickly shuffles to the other side of your bed to lie with you, not caring that he’s ruining his suit as he scoots to hold you. His front presses against your back, large palm coming down to press against your stomach, and for some reason you sigh as though the warmth and pressure from his hand gives you some sort of relief.

Nanami nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent. “Talk to me, love. What’s the matter?”

It takes you a moment, but when you finally speak, your voice comes out strained and tired. “Ugh…I started my period and I’m so damn miserable…” you groan, sniffling. “I think I’m dying…I need to run to the store but–”

“What do you need? I’ll go for you,” Nanami volunteers immediately. The last thing he wants is for you to go out in this condition. “I think I remember the products you use…”

You make a noise that sounds like a mixture of a laugh and a hiss of pain before you sigh out, “I don’t know if I should be flattered that you remember or I don’t know…disturbed? Are you that obsessed with me?”

“Yes,” he answers, instantly. He nuzzles further into you if possible. “I still remember the first time I ran to the convenience store to buy you products back in college. And the time I had to give you an extra pair of pants when you’d started your cycle unexpectedly, and–”

“Kennnnn,” you whine. “You’re so sweet and so strange. Why do you remember that?”

Nanami chuckles, softly rubbing his hand in soothing circles against your lower abdomen. “It’s not meant to be weird, but I remember these were big moments in our relationship. What I mean is, I want to take care of you.”

“What about work? You’ll be late…”

“I’m not going. You need me here.”

You curl into a ball before him and just a few seconds pass before he feels your body shaking, wracked with sobs. “Stop saying sweet things to meeeee,” you whine. “I love you so muuuuch.”

“Okay…okay,” he agrees. “I’m heading to the store, then. I’ll get you what you need, but if you think of anything else, just message me.” He kisses the top of your head, slowly peeling himself away from you, though he wants to stay in bed for as long as you’re there. But Nanami knows you need these essentials so that you’re comfortable. He’ll make the trip as quick as possible.

Currently…

This trip was not as quick as possible. His brown eyes stare at the selection before him. Did you use winged pads? Non-winged? Scented or not? Heavy flow or light flow? Or maybe you had grown to prefer tampons? Or…what the hell is a diva cup?

“Sir?” A soft voice calls out to him. Nanami turns his head to see a store attendant, an elderly woman, gazing softly at him. Her eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiles. “I’ve passed by this aisle a few times now and you’re still here. Did you need some assistance?”

Well, this is beyond embarrassing. All that talk of remembering your preferences, being obsessed with you (not a lie), and recalling memories that made you feel confident enough in sending him out alone into the world to bring you back something useful. All that, just for Nanami to get to the store, standing in a wrinkled business suit, and having absolutely no clue what he’s looking at.

Not only that, but some poor old woman is now taking pity on him and offering her services. He wants to take her up on her offer, but he also stubbornly wants to prove to himself that he can take care of you. But while he’s being stubborn, you’re suffering and that is something Nanami can’t stand to let continue.

He gives the woman a tight smile. “Actually, if you could–”

His phone buzzing in his pocket cuts him off. He mutters an “excuse me” and he finds himself dropping whatever is in his arms to answer. Only one person would call him this early in the morning. He answers without question, mouthing an apology to the attendant who waits patiently.

“My love,” he answers, brows furrowing when he hears your giggles on the other end of the line. Much different than what he expected seeing as he left you in a puddle of your own tears before going to the store.

“How long have you been standing around at the store?” You ask teasingly, and Nanami purses his lips together.

“I’ll have you know that…” he sighs in defeat. There’s no point in denying it. “It hasn’t been that long.”

Your laughter rings through and Nanami can’t help the wide grin on his face. The attendant clears her throat politely, reminding him that she’s still waiting. He covers the receiver on his phone. “Thank you so much for your help. My wife is going to take it from here.”

The woman nods, making her way out of the aisle and Nanami resumes his call with you.

“You called me your wife…” you breathe softly. 

Nanami feels his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. It was just a habit that he supposes never died. He opens his mouth to apologize, but your giggles surprise him. He expected discomfort, maybe anger given your history, but you don’t seem to feel either of those things. You simply brush it off and keep talking.

“Okay, so, here’s what I need–”

- - - - - -

“It smells so good in here, Kento.” Your sweet voice carries through the kitchen, arms looping around Nanami’s torso from behind. The sun is slowly beginning to set now, casting a warm glow through the kitchen windows as Nanami finishes up dinner. You’ve been resting on the sofa most of the day with your heating pad and whatever strange snacks you’ve been craving. Your pain has finally eased up and Nanami feels like he can breathe easier now that your face isn’t constantly contorted from your cramps. It’s been nice to let you just sit around. He’s simply been helping around your apartment with taking care of some household chores while you recover.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, stirring one last time before tasting the soup he’s thrown together. He makes a mental note to pick up some groceries for you so that there’s a better selection of ingredients for him to choose from for the next meal.

“So much better. Thank you so much for everything today, Kento.”

Nanami switches the stove off, spinning around in your embrace and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Of course. I’m just happy I was here to help.”

You smile shyly, and it’s Nanami’s favorite of all your expressions. “Me too,” you tell him. You lay your head against his chest, sighing contently as you murmur something that sends his heart into full on overdrive... 

“You should move in.”

[maythearo]

I kinda accidentally been away :(

When I take a hiatus you'll see I don't announce it beforehand because it usually just happens instead of being a planned thing, so I apologize if I made people worry about me (again) but I'm doing fine! A plethora of things happened in the time being, and I feel like it's relevant to mention them here for some clarity. (I didn't intend to make this post so long, I'll crop here so it's easier to navigate)

First I feel like I have been falling out of love with art as a whole. My interest in a lot of stuff has been fading away, I haven't been keeping up with twst for one, and since a lot of my inspiration comes from the stuff I'm hyperfixating on I barely have been creating anything. My uni assigments so far were uninspired at best lol it sucks my mood relies so much on art and vice versa. The only times I feel actual joy is when I'm hanging out with my friends every now and then, I'm mostly alone through the rest of the week.

And it's with this habit of going out that I fluctuated towards using less social media. I don't think I ever liked having a presence online, and that's something I've been doing since highschool for no reason that matters to me anymore. Just quitting isn't something I can do because first, I think it's important getting my news from it; and second, I still want to do commissions, and I'm aiming to turn my socials into something more professional in the near future, rather than the life diary that I had a tendency of building them as. Of course there's nothing wrong with making socials a personal thing, it's just not my style, and with my anxiety of being perceived I realized I can only handle so much of it lol

I also had some personal losses, and it feels like a lot of people around me were having a hard time with theirs coincidentally, so that made me kinda sad too. I won't specify much but I think that's worth mentioning.

The tldr is that I'm lost, I don't know how I got here, and I feel like it only gets worse the longer I stand around doing nothing but I prefer to think that sometimes things get worse before they get better, I know they will get better.

I'm writing all of this from the perspective of how I feel at the moment, the conclusions I'm taking with this kinda depressive state of mind, so I imagine things can still change once I begin to feel brighter again, who knows.

Thank you for everyone who left kind messages on my askbox after all this time, idk if I can reply to all individually but I did read them and I appreciate them very much! I hope everyone is doing well too and staying safe.

And on a side note I'm sorry to the people who asked other things related to my art/blog way before I took this break, I wanted to answer them in a fun way but they've gathered too much dust by now and my inspiration is long gone. I think I'll be cleaning up my askbox since the longer I leave it unnatended the more overwhelmed it makes me feel 😥 I messed it up this time I admit, I apologize again to everyone I kept waiting.

I have a few old drawings I haven't shared here yet, maybe I'll post them if I manage to remember it :)

[shuadotcom]

Curse The Stars | HJS (M)

🪩 Summary: Meeting someone at the disco to take home for the night is customary for you, especially in your line of work. But meeting this man on this night at this disco feels more like fate as Joshua becomes much more than just your routine one night stand.

🪩 Pairing: Salesman!Joshua x Starlet Afab!Reader

🪩 Genres + AUs: Smut, fluff, a little bitty bit of angst, strangers to lovers, fwb to lovers, 1970s Hollywood au, porn with a lil plot

🪩 Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI)

🪩 Words: 8.4k

🪩 Warnings: Profanity, mentions of alcohol/drinking, poorly written 70s themes and slang (I’m a 90s baby I did my best okay)

🪩 Smut Warnings: Dirty talk, oral (f & m receiving), face-fucking, praise, fingering, pussy slapping, spitting (it’s tame lol), marking, doggy, mating press, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstim, creampie, reader is called good girl once, breeding kink?, big dick!joshua as usual

🪩 Note: Here’s my fic for @svthub’s 70s;teen collab!

This fic was heavily inspired by Virgo’s Groove by Beyoncé. It’s my 2nd favorite song off of Renaissance and as soon as I heard it I knew I needed to write some horny little songfic. At the same time it came out I was rewatching some Home Run performances and Joshua in those stages drives me absolutely insaneeee and here we are 🤗 This was supposed to be much shorter but I got carried away and added a little more plot than intended oops.

Thank you to my amazing, sweet, lovely beta @horanghater. I promise I’ll stop asking you to beta for me last minute!!! 🫶🏽🫶🏽 And thank you to the talented and wonderful @playmetheclassics for always making the most gorgeous banners for me! 🥺 💛

“Hi there beautiful, can I trouble you for a dance?”

This isn’t the first time you’ve been approached - not tonight or any night when you find yourself out on the town. You’ve already had a handful of people propose a dance, but all of them were men that did nothing but stare at your tits or give off the finest of sleazebag energy.

This man though…this man is different. 

His round eyes stay locked on yours, an unassuming, even sweet, smile plastered onto his lips that makes the corners quirk upwards. The smile reaches those brown eyes that bat at you and render you speechless for a moment.

He’s pristinely styled, with perfectly slicked back white-blond hair, and wearing fancy attire like everyone else is;  this is a new disco, and only the people with money or connections are allowed in. A freshly pressed blue suit, a very fitting lavender turtleneck, and shiny chains that glisten under the bright lights overhead, all cling to his body in ways that make your eyes linger on him longer than you should.

When he notices you ogling him, his smile becomes more of a smirk, one full of charm, and on any other man, it might’ve been suspicious, but this man has an aura to him that doesn’t make you immediately put your guard up.

“Sure,” you finally say, putting your hand in his outstretched one. With a small wave to your friends who are all giggling behind you, you’re off to the dancefloor, the man’s much larger hand engulfing yours.

With “Last Dance” having just been released, it’s the only thing that’s been playing everywhere you go for the past few weekends and tonight is no different. It plays over the speakers while you and the handsome man dance together, your bodies seeming to know where the other is moving without even having to say anything. Any hesitation that you’d enjoy your time with him fades away as the song plays, both of you singing the lyrics along with Donna Summer as he spins you around. 

Typically after the first dance, you’d prepare to have your partner offer to buy you a drink in the hopes of letting the liquor loosen you up, or they’d even skip straight to the part where they’d offer to find a hotel room nearby for you to be alone. 

Once again, though, he is different. 

This handsome stranger simply asks if you want to keep dancing and you do. Song after song, you stay on the dancefloor under the bright, multi-colored lights, laughing and singing with him until you’re both finally in need of a rest.

“I’m Joshua,” he says loudly when there’s a slight, brief lull in the music. “Joshua Hong.”

“Y/n Y/l/n.” He smiles that sweet smile again and repeats your name back to you.

“Such a gorgeous name, but I would expect nothing less from someone so gorgeous.” The line is cheesy and you’ve heard it too many times, yet somehow, Joshua still manages to make your skin hot.

“I bet you say that to everyone you dance with!”

“Only the ones I really like.” The mischievous quirk of his lips has you rolling your eyes, but you still think it’s cute.

That’s when you decide that you want to be the one to speed the night along this time.

“Wanna get out of here? My place isn’t that far from here.”

Joshua seems surprised, though only momentarily, at your bluntness, but he nods, taking your hand in his again and letting you guide him through the crowd, catching your friends’ attention with a wave on the way out and going out into the crisp fall night.

“How’d you get here?” he asks once you’re out of the doors.

“One of my friends’ boyfriends dropped us off.” He makes a noise of acknowledgement and leads you both to the busy parking lot full of people standing around and laughing, the good times spilling out from inside the bustling building.

Joshua approaches a sleek, teal convertible Cadillac. When you reach the passenger side, he holds the door open for you, gesturing you inside with a bow and flourish of his hand.

“Out of sight! I shoulda known you’d have a fancy car.” With a whistle, you slide in and he gently shuts the door behind you. 

“And why is that?”

“Most actors your age do. I would know - I’m an actress. I’ve had many a fellow actor try and get me in his Caddy.”

Joshua gets in on his side, tilting his head in question. “You think I’m an actor?”

“You’re not?” He shakes his head. “Oh.”

“Why’d you assume that?” At being questioned you clam up, clearing your throat a few times. 

“Well, you’re just, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.”

“Ugh, because you’re crazy handsome, okay?! You have a face that should be on film, but don’t go getting a big head about it!” You can tell he’s going to do exactly that, the corners of his mouth raising in an infuriatingly attractive way.

“Well thank you, beautiful. Good to know you find me ‘crazy handsome’.”

“Don’t start! Now I have to wonder what it is you actually do.” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Are you a screenwriter? You seem like you have a lot going on upstairs.”

“Thank you, I think? But no way. I wouldn’t even know where to begin writing a movie.”

“Okay, then a singer?”

“I do enjoy music.” At your victorious look, Joshua shakes his head. “But nope, not a singer.”

“What about -”

“What about telling me how to get your place so we can leave the parking lot?” 

“Oops.” You had been so wrapped up in marveling at the fresh leather and knowing a little more about your partner for the night that you nearly forgot you’re still surrounded by the nightlife in the parking lot.

The drive to your apartment is only about ten minutes away. Between telling Joshua where to turn, you sing along to the radio. Now that you’re not being inundated with booming music, you get a chance to hear Joshua’s singing voice and it only serves to leave you breathless. 

His voice is so soft and sweet yet confident as he hits the notes effortlessly. Momentarily you falter, forgetting to warn him of the next turn simply because you’re too busy staring at him slack-jawed.

He has to call your name to bring your brain back from the Joshua-shaped hole it was slipping into just listening to him. You point out the final right turn to him, doing your best to ignore how much more handsome he is out of the bright disco lights with just the moonlight illuminating his immaculate features.

As soon as you step inside, he’s taking in your apartment, complementing your pad, your choice of furniture, and the paintings hanging on your walls. You, on the other hand, have only one thing on your mind. 

When you approach Joshua, stopping him mid-sentence with your lips as he’s asking you a question about your record collection, he’s surprised, but only momentarily as he kisses you back, warm hands cupping your face. 

Joshua fucks you stupid into your mattress that night. Making you cum over and over again with his dirty words and names and his big dick keeping you full and satisfied more than any other hookups from nights past.

When he finally lets you rest, body spent and listless, you all but pass out on his chest with him making no move to leave you alone for the night which is enough to have you dreaming about him when your tired eyes slip closed.

When you wake up the following day it’s to an empty bed and a note on your nightstand.

Sorry to leave you like this beautiful, but I’ve got work. 

I’d love to dance with you again. Call me xo

Joshua

His phone number stares back at you at the end of his note and you mull over the idea of calling him before putting the note in your nightstand drawer instead. You can’t say you’ve ever had a hookup earnestly leave their number, so you need to let the thought of calling him back ruminate.

By the next weekend, Joshua is still on your mind and you find out that you can say the same for him. You’re back at the disco with your friends, the one you met him at, and when you’re at the bar getting drinks, a familiar voice sounds in your ears.

“You know, I waited by the phone for you all week. I was pretty hurt when every time it rang you weren’t on the other line.”

You practically jump out of your skin when Joshua appears, a pout on his pretty lips as he hovers close to your side.

“I…I um,” you stammer. You hadn’t expected to see him again, especially not so soon.

“If you don’t wanna see me again-”

“I do!” The words tumble out, cutting him off and he snickers at your eagerness. “I mean, I do wanna see you again. Truth be told, I’ve never had someone leave me their number and honestly want me to call them. It’s usually just for show.” Anytime a number was scrawled on your arm or a business card was left and you called the day after, you were usually met with disinterest or a nonchalant promise to meet up again. They never kept their promises.

“I wouldn’t leave my number if I didn’t want you to use it. I swear.” Joshua’s smile is sincere. His eyes meet yours, pinning you in place, and soon neither of you are moving or speaking - only searching the other for the answer. Eyes are the window to the soul, and when you search Joshua’s all you can find is honesty and gentleness and you allow yourself to believe it.

“Okay. I’ll call you later this week?”

“I hope you do, but do I have to wait that long to spend time with you or do you wanna get under that disco ball with me?” 

The idea to buy a drink is forgotten when you take Joshua’s hand and get lost in him and the music all over again. 

That night ends up the same as before with you in his car being driven to your apartment.

Tonight, though, your destination is your couch, talking to one another, drinks in hand to keep the mood comfortable. Joshua is an incredible listener, nodding along in a way that you know he’s truly taking your words in, and asking you questions about yourself. He asks what got you into acting and where you’re from. He asks about your friends, your favorite restaurants, and your favorite things to do when you’re not working.

If you rack your brain, you can’t remember the last time you had a meaningful conversation with a partner. It’s…different, in a good way.

You find out that he was invited to the disco you met at by a friend of his named Taehyung, whose name you had heard in your circle before. Hollywood isn’t that big a place.

“So, I completely forgot to ask, what movies have you been in? Truth be told, I don't recognize your name or your face, and believe me, I'd remember if I saw such a stone-cold fox on the big screen.” His words are flirty, but he asks with genuine interest.

“Well, I’ve only been in a few films, but they’re probably not ones you’ve seen.”

“Try me.” After you name the five medium-sized, indie films you have a spot on the credits in, Joshua tries to nod along but you can tell how obvious it is that he hasn’t seen any of them.

“That’s okay. I wanna be the next Pam Grier or Cicely Tyson, but I’ve still got a long way to go.”

“Hey, I’m sure you will be. No - I know you will. I can tell you’re gonna be a real star.” There’s no hint of sarcasm behind what he says. He’s so sure of himself - of his words - and a warmth overtakes you, settling deep in your chest.

“Thank you.” Your words are bashful and he seems to notice, scooting across the mustard-colored fabric of your couch, closer to you.

“Anyway, what do you do other than make people all flustered just for fun?”

“I work with people,” Joshua answers with a chuckle, taking a sip of his drink.

“You work with people?”

“Yep, all types of people. Demanding people, nice people, some of the worst people I’ve ever met. You name it.”

“I work with people too, Joshua, and we already established you’re not an actor.”

“I could never be an actor. I don’t think I have it in me.”

“Okay, so what are you then?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you do?”

“For what?”

“For work, Joshua!” Throwing your hands in the air at his back and forth you nearly knock your drink over, but catch it in time, setting the glass on the oak coffee table, not noticing when you completely miss your coaster.

Joshua laughs, commenting on how cute you look frowning at him like this. “I’m a salesman.”

“Is that all? Jesus, stop being so weird and elusive. What do you sell? Houses? Some fancy, shiny cars or something?” 

His expression stays neutral, suddenly transfixed by the ice swirling in his cup.

“Joshua?”

He heaves a sigh and finally meets your eyes. 

“Washing machines,” his words come out in a rush. “Appliances in general, but I uh, I’ve sold the most washing machines in my department.” He takes a hearty sip of his drink, not meeting your stare.

“Okay? What’s the problem with that?” 

“I - you don’t care?”

“Why would I?”

Joshua chuckles, running a hand through his neatly styled platinum hair. “Whenever I’m on this side of town, the second someone finds out I’m not an actor or model or whatever they assume I am, usually they lose interest in me. I know we’ve only seen each other twice but I really like spending time with you. I was worried you’d tell me to get out or something.” 

The man whom you’ve only known for a week at best and who always looks so confident and self-assured is wringing his hands in front of you, an air of nervousness surrounding him. 

“Lucky for you, I’m not as shallow as the other folks in Hollywood and I don’t care what you do. Besides, spending time with you is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.” Joshua seems to search your face for any hint of doubt behind your words, but he finds none. 

He takes this as a cue to lean over and kiss you and you don’t think twice to kiss him back, melting into his lips and his hold.

Once again, Joshua fucks you within an inch of your life, staying over again, but this time he doesn’t have work until a little later so he sleeps in with you. After breakfast, he props you on your laminate counters and rocks your world, the remainder of your eggs and toast left cold on the side.

Joshua Hong is quickly proving to be someone you’re unable to let go of and you’re starting to believe that you don’t want to.

You and Joshua expertly fall into a groove. The next few months with him are the same; meeting at the disco on the weekends, sometimes he comes over during the week after you’ve been on the phone for a few hours, and he has sex with you on every surface of your apartment (even a few times in his Cadillac he had saved up for), then he sleeps over and goes home, only for you two to do it all over again. It becomes routine and is the very definition of your relationship with him for months.

Joshua is easy to be with and talk to and what you have works with him - you’re comfortable with him - more comfortable than you’ve ever been with a man. 

That’s why it’s so easy to fall in love with him.

You don’t notice it at first and you’re not sure when your enjoyment for being around him morphed into a need to see him or when you went from butterflies fluttering in your stomach when he complimented you to full-on fawning over him internally, but it snuck up on you and hit you like a bus.

The first time it dawns on you is when you’re both cuddled up on your couch, watching a new episode of The Jeffersons. George Jefferson makes a joke that you both find particularly funny, causing you both to erupt in a fit of laughter. You peek over at Joshua and you feel your heart skip a beat. His eyes are in the shape of crescent moons (which you’re realizing you always notice and it always makes you melt) and his radiant smile that makes his whole face light up is as infectious as always, and you can’t help but beam even more. His laugh, always so airy and melodic, rings through your apartment and you think to yourself how much you wish you could hear it every day for the rest of forever.

The next time your feelings make themselves known is when he’s over and he offers to cook you dinner, which you eagerly accept. 

It’s just a simple pasta dish, nothing too fancy, but seeing Joshua float around your kitchen in your frilly red apron does something to you. Every so often he’ll pause in singing along to the record playing in the living room to let you taste the sauce or the noodles, sometimes planting a kiss on your forehead or cheek before feeding you. Your heart (and your pussy) clenches at how attractive he looks and at the thought of seeing him like this more often. And by “more often”, your brain attempts to conjure up the question, “What if you lived together?”

You quickly shake the thought away, scolding yourself. You and Joshua have only been…whatever this is for a little over four months. The idea of living together is simply ridiculous.

It’s when four months roll into six, then eight, and nearly nine that you accept that your thoughts now belong to Joshua Hong and Joshua Hong only. When you start seeing him in the sunshine and away from the bright night lights, you feel the shift in your heart finalizing. In simple flared-bottom jeans and fitting shirts, Joshua is just as stunning and alluring as he is in his finest suits and quaffed hair. He can still make you laugh the same and you have the same meaningful conversations and he can still fuck you better than you’ve ever been fucked in your whole life. He’s the same slick guy that dances with you whenever you’re both feeling good and after nearly a year of knowing him, you finally accept that you’re in love with him.

The decision to tell him is one you have to make on your own.

“When are you going to stop messing around with the washing machine salesman?”

“Yeah, you need someone who will put you on the map! What about Hyungwon Chae? He’s been in a few flicks and he’s sooo handsome!”

“Yeah! Oh, or Jungkook Jeon?! His latest album is rumored to be wildly successful and I’ve heard it’ll be just as groovy as his last!”

The conversations with your friends around Joshua are always the same. It doesn’t matter how much detail you go into about the latest sweet thing he’s done for you or the latest concert he took you to or how good he is in bed (you keep that to yourself now since they never appreciate it), it’s always the same criticism. He’s not famous, he’s not rich - he’s just some “normal” guy to them and they can’t seem to fathom why on Earth you’re still seeing him.

They don’t seem to get that he’s so much more than a frequent hookup to you. At least - you want him to be. You can’t tell how he feels or if he wants more, but how will you ever know if you don’t tell him? 

Your heart hammers against your chest at the thought of telling him and having him turn you down. The worst he can do is say he wants to keep your time together the same: doing things that make it feel like you’re more than what you are. Even worse is that he can stop seeing you altogether. Even the whisper of that makes your head hurt and your stomach tangle in unfixable knots.

But then there’s that possibility that Joshua digs you as much as you dig him, if not more. That possibility is what burrows deep into your brain and gives you the confidence you need to tell him. 

Confidence or delusion - either way, it’s a chance you’ll take. 

As an actress, you have to remind yourself that life is full of risks. You wouldn’t have any of the flicks on your resume that you do if you didn’t go to those auditions, put yourself out there, and give it your all. That’s what you want to do with Joshua - it’s what you need to do. You don’t need so-called friends to tell you that.

You have to tell him. You have to know if he’s also too nervous to admit his feelings or if you’re being foolish and pining for nothing. He’s quite possibly the love of your life and you need to tell him.

You don’t see Joshua for two weeks after you realize how you feel about him. Between his extra shifts and a rush of auditions from your manager, life seems to keep you apart for much longer than you’d like. 

It’s when you finally have a night to yourself, away from the hustle and bustle that you get the time you’ve been yearning for.

You’re stepping out of the tub when you hear your phone ringing, the shrill sound breaching your quiet evening.

“I’m coming!” You call out to no one, slipping on your fluffy robe and slippers before shuffling through the apartment and to the kitchen. You make it just in time, picking up the pink phone dangling from the wall.

“Hello?” The tone you take on is slightly annoyed, hoping the caller knows you’re unhappy with the interruption.

“Hey, beautiful. Hope I’m not interrupting your night.” The smooth sound of Joshua’s voice melts you on the spot, expertly deflating your growing irritation as easily as popping a balloon.  You’re embarrassed to admit just how easily Joshua Hong can get you to abandon anything else that isn’t him. 

“Hey, Shua. No, I’m just at home tonight. I just got out of the tub.”

“Oh yeah? No big fancy parties with your fancy friends?” 

“Nope. It’s just me, all alone with no plans for the rest of the night.” Your fingers tangle in the phone cord, wrapping the springy wire around your hand.

“I see. That sounds pretty boring if you ask me,” he hums, quickly picking up what you’re putting down. “No one to talk to or spend time with.” 

“Hmm yeah, you’re right. Just me, myself, and I, all alone here,” your true intentions behind those words dripping from your flirty tone like honey. Not even five minutes ago that sounded like a perfect evening, but you already know why he’s calling, and spending the night with Joshua sounds like a much better option. 

“Such a shame for you to be home alone all night. Maybe you can get someone to keep you company?”

“I think I’ll have to. I just don’t know what to do with myself otherwise. Plus, I’m feeling awful lonely.”

“Well we wouldn’t want you to be lonely now would we?” Joshua is smirking into the phone, and you can so clearly envision his grin with mischief written all over his pretty face. He wants you to initiate tonight and he’ll go back and forth as long as you’ll let him. Typically you have no problem keeping up with his snark, but the sound of his voice alone has you craving him like some sex-crazed lunatic.

Which you suppose you are when it comes to Joshua.

“Baby,” you breathe out, deciding you’re yearning for him far too much to play this game tonight. “Please come over?” You make sure to add a sprinkling of a whine at the end of your request, punctuating the entirety of your words with a tiny moan. 

Joshua hums into the phone, pretending to think even though you both already know his answer.

“And how could I say no to you, hmm?” Joshua shuffles on the other end, his voice lowering an octave, but volume loud and clear to you. “I’m done work in a few. Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be over to see you. Think you can wait up for me, darling?”

“Always, Shua,” the implication behind his words has you buzzing with excitement, your own voice lowering in a hushed tone even though you’re home alone.

“See you soon, beautiful.”

As soon as the phone hangs up you rush into action, shuffling back to your bathroom to completely dry off and moisturize your skin. With styled hair and a spritz of Joshua’s favorite perfume on you, you slip into your favorite silk nightie, the one that dusts your ankles with the slit in the side that goes up to the middle of your thigh. You don the matching robe and put on one of your favorite records, mixing two drinks after you do so. 

Just as you’re about to sit down there’s a knock on your door. Your stomach does flips as you go to answer it. You hadn’t known when you wanted to tell Joshua that you want him as more than a friend he sleeps with every weekend, but this feels like the right time. Truth be told you don’t know when the right time even is, but the longer you wait the more it’ll gnaw at you and won’t leave you alone.

“Look at you,” Joshua wraps his arms around you as soon as you let him in, drawing you into his embrace. He places a kiss on your lips, lingering for a second before pulling away. You hate the way you want to chase his lips.

He follows you into the living room, sinking into the couch next to you and you hand him the drink you made. 

“It’s just an old-fashioned, nothing fancy.”

“An old-fashioned is pretty fancy to me. You didn’t have to make me anything, darling.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

Your words earn you another kiss, this time on your cheek and you get a new round of tingles across your body.

Joshua tells you about his day as you sit and drink together and the whole thing feels so painfully domestic. And you want it to be, so badly. Not that you want to stop acting - it’s been your dream as long as you can remember so you would never abandon it, but you want Joshua to be a part of this now and a small piece of you worries that he won’t want to. Hollywood isn’t for everyone and he’s voiced time after time how he could never see himself in showbiz or the business in general. But that’s fine with you. The time you’ve spent with Joshua far surpasses anyone else in the business you’ve ever given your time to anyway.

“Y/n?”

“Huh?”

“I lost you for a moment there. I didn’t mean to bore you with my department store tales,” Joshua chuckles, sipping his drink.

“No, you could never bore me! I was just thinking is all.”

“About?”

“You,” your answer is automatic and it’s the truth.

“Oh yeah?” You nod in response as Joshua tilts his head at you, eyes sparkling as he looks you over. “C’mon. Let’s boogie.” He puts his glass down and grabs your hand instead, leading you to the middle of your living room. 

Minnie Riperton serenades you as Joshua brings you closer, your bodies slotting together perfectly as you sway to the music. He hums along, his eyes closing as he dips you for show, both of you sharing a giggle as he brings you upright.

These are the moments that let you know that you’re in love with Joshua Hong. Everything he does, everything he says, it’s all with a tenderness and a care that you’ve never experienced, but it still makes you feel incredibly special.

The beginning chords of “Lovin' You�� fill the room, as Joshua’s fingers dance across your waist.

“I love this song.” He begins humming along again, and this is the moment you’ve been waiting for, you think, sucking in a huge breath of air.

“And I love you,” the words fall from your mouth before you can think twice and you do your damndest to make yourself sound confident.

Joshua’s smile slips in an instant, his expression turning serious. “What?”

“I’m into you, Joshua. So much. I wanna be more than what we are.” He’s stopped swaying completely, neither of you moving. The only sound other than the song still playing is the sound of the blood rushing loudly through your ears.

“Y/n…”

Your heart is this close to shattering into a million pieces. “What, you don’t like me back?”

He must notice your forlorn expression, because he reaches for you again, gently touching your arm. “No, it’s not that I just…” 

“What is it then? Huh?”

Joshua heaves out a sigh, eyes closing before fixing you with a steady gaze. “I just sell washing machines, Y/n. I don’t have some bright future like you. I’m not getting a star on the Walk of Fame. I’ll get promoted to a store manager at best. I’m not like you.”

You blink at him, taking in his words. “That’s what you’re worried about?! Joshua, I don’t fucking care! I wouldn’t care if you worked at a factory or were a carpenter. Hell, I wouldn’t care if you were unemployed - I like you for you. No, I love you. I love you for your heart and your sense of humor and how sweet you are to me and how you actually, genuinely care about me and my interests and my dreams. I love you for every little thing about you, Joshua. Not for how much money you make or any of that.”

He’s silent, letting you pour your words out, your thoughts flowing from your mouth like a broken faucet. “Y/n…” he finally starts. The fear that he’ll turn you away just because he feels like he’s not enough grips you. Your ears tune into the song still playing and you do the first thing you can think of to get him to stop. You sing.

“Lovin' you I see your soul come shinin' through…”

He looks confused, almost unsure if you’ve truly begun to sing to him. “Y/n -”

“And every time that we oooooh. I'm more in love with you.”

“I’m-”

“La la la la la la la…do do do do do-“

Joshua closes the small gap between you two, his lips colliding with yours, putting a stop to your serenade before you can hit Minnie Riperton’s falsetto. You don’t object in the slightest, kissing him back with all your might.

“Did it work?” You mumble against his lips as you separate. “Did I get through to you? Are you staying?”

“I mean, you definitely made me lose track of what I was thinking of saying to you. I think I also know why you told me that one time that you’ve never considered being a singer.”

His teasing earns him a push against his chest, barely even moving under your force. “I pour my heart out to you in song and this is what I get?!”

He dodges the remainder of your playful hits and grasps your hands in his, his thumbs caressing your skin.

“Seriously, Y/n. I’m just a guy who works at Sears. Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure you want me like that?” You can’t help but lift a hand and smooth out the crinkles on his forehead with your thumb, attempting to push the frown off of his perfect face.

“The only other time I’ve been this sure about something I wanted was when I knew I wanted to be an actress.” His eyes shine as you speak, searching for sincerity. “Do you want me like that?” 

“God, yes, I do. I have for months.” 

Relief washes over you, putting you at ease. “Then you can have me. In any and every way.”

Joshua doesn’t hesitate in the slightest. Soft lips meld into yours, your body molding against his as he holds you around the waist. His hands roam your body, his touch leaving searing warmth in its wake. He kisses you, sufficiently taking your breath away as he does. Your fingers card through his platinum locks, mussing the strands, but he pays it no mind as his lips trail from yours, down to your jaw and your neck. Joshua is nothing short of an expert when it comes to your body and the places you like to be touched and kissed.

When he reaches the most sensitive spot on your neck, the spot that makes your toes curl, he sucks, sinking his teeth into the soft skin. A sharp cry slips out of your mouth as he nibbles on the skin, sucking hard enough that there’ll surely be a mark there in the morning. 

His hands wrap around you, palming your ass through your nightie and bringing your body impossibly closer to him. His erection strains against his corduroy pants, hard and aching just for you. You heave a heavy sigh when he finally leaves the patch of skin he’s working at alone, only to move to another swatch of skin. Your knees almost give out and you have to grab onto his blazer to stay upright. 

Joshua’s hands roam over the silk and he continues to spend extra time on your most sensitive of areas before he decides he’s satisfied with the marks he’s decorated you with. He moves to kiss you again and with each slide of his lips against yours feeling more frantic by the second, so does his grip until his fingers catch on the knot of your robe, tugging it gently.

“Can I…?” he questions into your mouth.

“You never have to ask.” His lips curl into a smile against yours as he makes quick work of removing your robe and tossing it aside. He gently bunches up the fabric of your nightgown and eases it up and over your head, letting the fabric fall to the floor.

Now with no barrier between his wandering hands and your bare skin, Joshua’s hands move across you with purpose, one hand cradling your lower back and pushing you into him again. The other beelines for one of your breasts, his large hand scooping one up to knead at. He kisses you with so much hunger you can feel the need rolling off of him in waves and his hands that paw at you serve to make you even wetter.

He bucks his hips shallowly against you and your need for him reaches an all-time high. When you pull away, Joshua looks forlorn at losing your warmth, but when you drop to your knees in front of him, letting the brown shag underneath you dig into your skin, his expression morphs into one of excitement.

Hands work at his belt buckle, undoing it, then his pants, and you help him step out of the fabric along with his underwear. His cock, in all of its thick, throbbing glory feels as heavy as always in your hands when you pump him a few times, watching the precum bead at his tip. Wrapping your lips around the bulbous head, you suckle at it a few times, loving the way that Joshua starts breathing heavily above you, one of his hands coming up to settle on the back of your head.

You ease his length into your mouth bit by bit, enjoying the way the thickness stretches your lips and your throat as you take him in. You clench around nothing, already anticipating that same stretch in your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, just like that, darling,” Joshua grunts when you finally take him as far as you can fit him in your mouth, your hands wrapping around the rest of him. Your head bobs in tandem with your hands as you stroke him, letting him hit the back of your throat. 

Both of Joshua’s hands are on your head now, his fingers getting caught in your hair as he tugs a few times. You’ve had his dick down your throat enough times to know what he wants, so you go slack, letting him fuck your mouth, gagging each time he pushes your head to meet his thrusts.

Your eyes slip closed, letting him use your mouth to the pace he wants. Your core throbs almost painfully as you suck him off and you have to rub your thighs together to feel any semblance of relief, although it’s nowhere near enough.

Joshua stills his hips then, keeping his length buried in your throat, your nose touching his pubic bone as you slowly breathe out of it. You swallow around him a few times, Joshua letting out a long, rumbling groan from his chest before pulling you back, his cock leisurely sitting against your lips, both of you trying to catch your breaths.

“Keep sucking me off like that and I’ll have to paint your pretty face.”

You suck him in one more time then pull off of him completely with a pop, tongue dipping into his slit just to tease him. “Do it. Want you to cover me in your cum.”

Joshua hisses, the grip on your hair tightening as he pulls you off of his length once and for all. “Fuck, you’re so nasty. Sit on the couch, baby.” 

Ignoring the soreness in your knees, you crawl to the couch and perch on the edge, awaiting Joshua’s next instructions. Joshua unbuttons his shirt, your eyes greedily drinking in every inch of his toned, honeyed skin as he does so. Once he’s fully naked in front of you like he has been so many times before, you lick your lips, wanting nothing more than to cover him in marks of your own.

That will have to wait as it’s Joshua’s turn to drop to his knees and make his way over to you, settling in between your already open legs. His hands, always so big and warm and strong, grip your thighs, spreading them even further, so agonizingly slow. 

“Mmm, there she is - drooling for me already. Crying to be filled up.”

“Josh- shua, please!”

“Please? Please what, sweetheart?” Joshua drags his finger through your sticky folds, watching your arousal coat his fingers.

“Please finger me or fuck me - anything!” 

The smirk that tells you he plans to tease you plays on his lips, the corners quirking up in the most aggravating, charming way.

“Anything?”

“Please!” 

His palm meets your core with force, smacking your pussy and sending a jolt through your whole body. Back arching in the air you let out a tiny scream, and more follow as he does it a second, third, fourth time.

“Joshua, baby, fuck, please!”

“Hmm? Thought you wanted anything I give you? Slapping your greedy pussy isn’t enough?”

Shaking your head vigorously, you beg him for something more. “Wanna be stuffed, please, Shua!”

His eyes darken at your words and he takes a mercy on you, landing two more smacks against your mound before he dips a finger into your core, a sigh of solace leaving you. He watches your mouth hang open as he works his finger in and out at a torturous pace. 

“Always so warm and wet for me.”

“Always,” you assure him. You’ll always be ready for him in any way that he wants you.

Joshua slips a second finger in, stretching your walls more. You can write a whole dissertation about how good Joshua is with his hands and how much you love them, but his pace picks up, sufficiently wiping your brain of any of those eloquent words.

“Fuck!” You yelp as he keeps pumping his fingers into you and leans over to wrap his lips around your aching clit. He sucks at the bud, pistoning his digits and crooking them, his fingertips catching against your g-spot. “Shua!”

“God, I love it when you say my name. Say it again, baby.” To coax you, he flattens his tongue against your clit, putting pressure on it as his fingers move faster, and rougher, bringing you closer to your peak. If it’s up to Joshua, he’d have you cumming until you pass out, but you have to draw the line somewhere after the first night he wanted to see how many times he could get you to cum for him (his record is eight, and you haven’t had the fortitude to let him try and break it just yet).

“Joshua - Shua, gonna cum!”

“Go on then, do it, baby, cum for me.” He continues to suck on your clit, his teeth grazing the nub a few times and that’s all it takes to have you let go, yelling out Joshua’s name again as you do. He doesn’t give you time to catch your breath because his mouth then latches onto your pussy, tongue darting into your wet heat.

“T-too much!” Your whimpers are half-assed and he knows you don’t actually mean it which is why he keeps at it, slurping your juices and fucking you with his tongue. Joshua hums against you as he goes and it’s embarrassing how quickly you cum again, but your partner loves it, chuckling against you as he laps up your release and places a kiss on your puffy lips.

“You always taste so sweet, baby. Flip over for me?”

“‘Course,” you rasp, turning your already tired body over, Joshua helping with gentle hands on your hips. He stands up, stretching tall as he walks to his forgotten pants and gets out his wallet.

“Damn it,” he huffs, rifling through his wallet and checking the pockets a few more times.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to bring more condoms. You okay waiting for me to -”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. I need you now.”

“Y/n, we’ve never -”

“I know, but I haven’t been messing around with anyone else since we started seeing each other. Have you?” 

“No, I haven’t. How could I when I have a whole you waiting for me here?” Even with your ass in the air and pussy glistening with his spit, it’s the way he says this - with so much care and admiration in his tone - that has you flustered.

Joshua joins you again, hands running down your back, goosebumps popping up on your flesh under his touch. He stops at your ass, squeezing and kneading your cheeks, spreading you open, the cool air of your apartment making you jump.

The chill is quickly replaced with the searing warmth that is Joshua as the tip of his dick nudges your entrance. He purses his lips, leaning over to spit on both his length and your hole before plunging into you. His girth stretches your walls deliciously, inch by inch of him entering you.

You let out an audible shudder as he goes, relaxing your body as best you can as he stuffs you.

“Look at you,” Joshua coos once he’s fully sheathed inside of you. “Taking my fat cock so well, darling.”

“Feels so g-good, Shua. So fucking good.”

“Yeah? I’ll make you feel even better, baby.” Joshua grips your waist and pulls his hips back, all the way until only his cockhead catches at your hole before snapping forward, shoving his dick back into you to the hilt. You can’t help but wail at Joshua’s thrusts, hips meeting you repeatedly as he drives into you over and over again.

Your record still plays in the background, the slaps of Joshua’s skin against yours mixing with the melody along with yours and Joshua’s moans. The drag of Joshua’s dick against your gummy walls has you shuddering underneath him. Without a condom, he feels so much hotter inside of you as every vein, every ridge, every pulse of his cock can be felt with each thrust. 

“Shit, just like that, Shua!” Your neck cranes to look over your shoulder, attempting to gain some leverage against the couch cushions by leaning on your elbows. The sight of Joshua, skin flushed and shining with perspiration, eyebrows knitted in concentration with his bottom lip pulled between his teeth is enough to send you careening towards your end. You don’t get a chance to warn him before it hits you, the building pressure in the pit of your stomach releasing as you’re pushed to let go, burying your face in the cushions with tears pricking at your eyes.

“Fuck, look at you. Couldn’t even hold off from cumming again. You like my cock that much?”

“Yes!” you sob. “So much! So good…” 

Joshua pulls out, you whimpering at the loss of him, but he doesn’t leave you empty for long. Joshua’s big hands help flip you over on your back, ass almost hanging off of the couch. He grasps your thighs, pushing your knees into your chest as he enters you again, burying himself in your messy heat. Joshua’s hips drill into you, balls slapping against your ass each time he surges forward.

Your record has stopped playing by now, the only song sounding through the walls of your apartment are your sobs of Joshua’s name and his grunts as he uses all of his strength. He keeps you pinned between his body and the couch, dick battering your sore cunt as both of you chase your ends.

“Shit, baby you’re so fucking beautiful. Taking my dick like a good girl.”

“Y-yeah. I’m your good girl!”

“Yeah, you are. Always so good. Letting me fuck you raw. Wantin’ me to fill up this filthy little pussy.”

Joshua swivels his hips, tip grazing against your spongey bundle of nerves. “Just like that!”

His hands keep your legs up and spread open as he does what you beg for, repeatedly pounding into your g-spot as your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open as any more sounds die on your tongue.

“Look at you. All fucked out and drunk for my dick. Gonna pump you full of my seed, maybe even fuck a baby into you. Would you like that?”

“Yes! Fuck me, Shua!”

“Fuck yeah, I will. Gonna flood this cunt with my cum and get your belly nice and round. Gonna make you mine forever.”

The Earth shatters around you and a tsunami of fire washes over you when you cum again, your back arching painfully as you scream out for him. Your pussy clenches around him, squeezing his cock like a vice which triggers Joshua’s orgasm.

“Shit - fuck, Iloveyousomuch!” The words tumble from Joshua’s lips as he cums, painting your insides sticky and white. He milks himself as he keeps his pace, his seed spilling out around his cock, leaking out and dribbling down your ass. Feeling him stay true to his word and pump himself dry into you draws a final, much smaller, weaker orgasm out of you as tears fall from your eyes both at the oversensitivity and hearing Joshua say to you what you’ve hoped he would for nearly a year.

Neither of you move, panting like crazy as the sweat on your bodies starts to dry along with the cum still slowly trickling out of you. When Joshua finally eases out his softening length, it’s with a groan on both your parts. Your sore legs lower, limply hanging off of the couch. The sensation of the rest of his cum seeping out of your abused hole and down your legs makes you sigh, your hips wiggling in response.

“Look at you, baby. You’re a mess.” He’s still a little out of breath but still manages to tease you.

“And whose fault is that?” He simply chuckles at you and you watch him through bleary eyes, heave himself off of the couch, and go into your kitchen. 

He’s back in no time, two glasses of water in his hand. He offers you his bicep which you take, using him for leverage to sit up. You eagerly accept the water, downing the glass in less than thirty seconds, dry throat more than grateful.

Joshua’s next to you on the couch, watching you as he hydrates as well. The two of you sit in silence, emptying your cups and catching your breaths. For a moment, you worry that his confession was only in a bout of pleasure, but as if reading your mind he speaks.

“I meant it, you know. I love you.”

That’s all you need to hear to have you practically launching yourself in his lap, your lips crashing into his for a long, but sweet kiss. Joshua cradles your face, kissing you back just as hard, both of you eventually giggling into each other’s mouths. 

When you need to breathe again, you pull away just enough to rest your forehead against his. Joshua’s brown eyes shine as they meet yours, your stomach flipping as you’re reminded for what feels like the 500th time just how handsome he is. 

“I know you already took a bath, but I think we need to get you in the tub again,” he comments, gaze flickering down to the cooling streaks of his cum on your legs. And how he’s all yours.

“Only if you join me this time.”

“Only if you make time to let me take you on a proper date tomorrow night. We’ve spent a ton of time together, but I need to court you for real now.”

“As if I’d say no to you. I’m in love with you after all.” A brilliant, blinding smile takes over Joshua’s face and your heart leaps. No matter how much time you spend with Joshua, you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of laughing with him or smiling with him. And especially not dancing with him. You’ll never tire of that.

Net tag: @kflixnet

[gothhabiba]

[ID: a tumblr post containing a screenshot. Text in the screenshot reads “lol @ academics on twitter dotcom once again handwringing over students using chatgpt to write essays. don’t work for the enforcement of access barriers institution and then get mad when people try to elide or mitigate the access barriers, hope this helps.” The OP of the post adds this commentary to their screenshot: “I think the access barrier is the borderline incomprehensible amount of money you need to pay them to let you matriculate (this was about america). not the fact that you’re expected to be interested in the course once there.” end ID]

some people are so allergic to questioning anything they consider to be “common sense” it’s pathetic. worshipping meritocracy and the supposedly automatically edifying qualities of “effort” and suffering while also proclaiming oneself to be some flavour of progressive. sheesh

also I know this isn’t the point but it never stops being fascinating to me that so many people with this “you need to learn to Be Literate In The Correct Ways, Which Is An Easy Thing That Anyone Can Easily Do” sort of attitude (the elision between “think in the incredibly specific way and write in the highly specific way required to complete an essay that adheres to this particular school of thought about what essays should be like” and “be interested in the course” is telling here) are also, like... not great at reading comprehension imo.

it was super clear, even just in this ungenerous cropping of a longer point, that the original post was (among other things) criticising academia as a whole for being intended to institute access barriers to accumulating wealth, prestige &c. such that skills the university considers necessary (& performance within the limits afforded by university disability ‘accommodations,’ which are a joke) are considered automatically necessary, unquestionable, unimpeachable &c. as though the academy and its conception of “literary” are natural and inherent facts of life, rather than representing a particular interpretation of which “skills” are needed and how those skills are evaluated based on what the institution of academia is intended to do, economically / politically / socially, within a given society (cf earlier discussions on my blog about the material circumstances under which the field of literary studies arises)

which is simply basic materialist analysis. but most people in the notes were again too busy being outraged at the people trying to “game” this already highly rigged system to be able to comprehend a criticism of the highly rigged nature of said system

[writella]

hi, sweetie! Hope you’re doing well. I just had the cutest thought that I wanted to share. And maybe if you want to add on to it as a drabble or something please feel free:) if not, then please just enjoy todays shower thoughts lol.

I’m thinking about a friends with benefits! reader and Daryl who find themselves travelling by canoe for whatever reason. And how they might get into some petty argument or even play fight that ends with them flipping the boat and the two of them just stand in the water, soaking wet and staring blankly at eachother with disappointment. Bangs sticking to your both your foreheads as the canoe slowly floats down the river along with all your dignity.

Take care! xoxo

Rocking the Boat

Synopsis: Daryl has been back home for weeks; the first attack against the Sanctuary is complete; Alexandria, the Kingdom, and the Hilltop are on their way to freedom; but nothing is the same as it was, especially not with you and Daryl. Maybe a house boat side quest will break the ice, or really, make some waves.

Details: This is set during the beginning of season 8, it includes violence, smut, a fwb relationship but feelings are involved, mutual pining, a little bit of switch Daryl and reader, and some sweetness because I think it’s just my thing at this point. ♡

A/N + Response: Hello, lovely miss T ♡ what a fun idea!! I love the imagery you set with the canoe tipping over, especially the bangs so cute— it was one of my favorite parts to write here! This is probably a bit unrealistic and much longer than I intended, so I think I might consider this a full one-shot as well as a concept, and… it’s also a bit sad? Just a little until we get to the good stuff, I promise ;) Anyway I hope you like it; let me know what you think!!

Daryl sat on Rick’s porch, his back against the poles, reloading his guns as you sped up the steps, “I think we should go back to the boats. Now.” Your voice was hurried, you had run all the way from your house, but he didn't even look up at you.

“Why would we do somethin’ stupid like that?” His voice was low, and annoyed. You didn’t expect to be greeted kindly, but at least he sounded like anything other than emotionless to you since the first time you saw him again; since the time he escaped the Sanctuary.

“There’s no one there. I saw it before I got back home. There were people with guns sitting outside the first time we saw it, but now there aren't.”

“A couple of guns ain’t gonna help us.”

“There had to have been a reason they were guarding it before.” Your words were urgent and your eyes pleaded for him to look up. “Any amount of guns could make the difference, Daryl. You know that.” You stare at him, waiting for nothing as he doesn’t respond. “Did you and Rick even find anything before you got back?” You cross your arms, “Cause it doesn’t look like it. And I think I just did.”

You had gotten separated from the group after the first attack against the Sanctuary: you ran without thinking, just trying to get away from the army of walkers stampeding the place. Straying off the usual path to Alexandria, you accidentally reencountered a place you and Daryl only saw once before. It was a time before Negan, before the Saviors. But now, remembering their jackets, and their weapons, and how their bikes looked parked at the shore, you realized those were three Savior cabin boats— fairly sized, a bit rusty, they had a shack like feel, but it was big enough to stand and sleep in. Maybe something of use could be in there, and at least it was something to do while you waited for the final attack.

Similar to Rosita and Michonne, you also got hurt by the scavengers— day zero of the war, when Sasha died— but the girls left you here, they didn’t even tell you they were going, you didn’t even see them leave. But you needed to get out too; you needed to help. “I’m going with or without you.” Your anger started bubbling at his indifference, “And I saw you talking to Tara, I know you’re planning something, so if you want to go off with her and complete your idiot side plan-”

“You’re the one with the dumbass plan.”

“- then that’s fine!” You glare at him, his eyes still so evasive, it infuriates you. “My objective is to find more weapons, before the final attack.” You lied, you both knew your objective was to rest before the final attack, “So I’m gonna go do that.”

You begin to walk briskly. You knew he was going to try to stop you. You knew he was going to come with you when he realized, yet again, he couldn’t stop you, or… you hoped he couldn’t… Sometimes you forget how much stronger he is than you. You had a smart mouth and you knew how to get a reaction out of him, or at least you did in the past, but he could pinned you down with one hand, making you completely immobile— it’s happened before. The thought makes you walk faster, heading for the nearest car. You were trying to make a point although you weren’t sure what it was. You were just tired of sitting around, tired of his treatment— mistreatment, actually. You knew he had reason to act curtly, what he went through was unspeakable, but you were still there for him, waiting, but he never came to you. Not even late at night. Not even to simply sleep.

Just as you’re about to reach the car you feel his hand wrap around your arm, you almost let it yank you. Your breath is a heavy mix of fear and excitement as he does so. Maybe you finally got something out of him. Maybe you still have it. Maybe you still have him. “We don’t got time for this,” he hissed. Then his jaw clenched, it almost looked like he was chewing on something, “but you’re forgetting the boat.”

“It’s a canoe.” You were pushing it with the retort, he was coming.

He grunts as he lets go of your arm, it slapping down to your side. You wait for him by the car as he retrieves the canoe and paddles from one of the house garages. You guys had found it a long while ago, never knowing when it would be of use. That time was now.

The ride toward the waterfront was irritable and depressing to say the least. You wanted to be around Daryl, you wanted to stop him from going off plan with Tara, but most importantly, you just wanted to talk to him; finally and for once. You all were on the biggest missions of your life, in the biggest war of your life… who knows where your fates would lie after this, but he has yet to say anything to you that didn’t involve fighting the Saviors, and even with that, he didn’t say much. He wanted to win. He was ready to do it fast. Whatever it took. That was all.

He kept shifting in his seat, short, low grunts coming out of the side of his mouth— he didn’t want to do this right now, but he knew you were just as stubborn as him, especially when it came to him. As dumb as he felt this was, it wasn’t time for another person he cares about to get hurt.

“Stop fuming,” you muttered.

He snapped back, barking your name, “We’re in a war! We could be doin’ better things right now and got me here for what?”

“Maybe so you don’t kill people we need alive right now?” You were talking about Dwight, you did more than just see Daryl talking to Tara.

His following grunt truly said typical. “You always got your nose where it don’t belong.”

You ignore him, “We should follow Rick’s plan.”

He shakes his head, ignoring you this time. He’s tired of talking about this. He’s going to go on the boat, see if there’s weapons, get Tara, and use whatever you two find to complete his own plan at the Sanctuary. This needs to be done.

“At least it’s a little over 5 miles off the out-post the Kingdom took out,” you reason, “that must be why no one is there anymore.”

Still no response. Typical, it’s your turn to think it. You let go of talking to him for now. The rest of the drive was silent as well as when you get to your destination, starting to put the canoe on water.

You look at the three small, now unguarded, boats. Only one bike was by the land and there was blood splattered on the middle house, the biggest one. Maybe the Kingdom took out the guy that was there, but there were no boats or canoes around, no way for someone to get close enough inside.

You two get in, starting to row. “There better be somethin’ good in there,” Daryl huffed. You hoped so too. Uncertainty started filling in with the reality of your awful plan. There really could be nothing in there and you really could have spent your day doing something that mattered to the cause. If these boats held anything important, why wasn’t a Savior there already? But even worse, the realization that you were acting out of desperation just because Daryl had been acting so cold… felt even more terrible.

You knew Daryl was scarred, far more than before and you were trying to be patient. You were going to let him come to you. You knew he needed time, and he was at the Kingdom for a little bit anyway, hiding out from Negan. You couldn’t even talk to him if you wanted to because of that. But now you had been planning that first attack for weeks, you were sleeping in the same place together again, but not in the same room, not touching. And again, you understood why, but then again… you didn’t. It was so hard to gain his trust, for him to open up to you, you thought that was something you gained for keeps; but now he wasn’t even allowing you to have a friendship anymore, let alone this in-between relationship you used to have. It made you upset how much power you realized you let him have over you. You missed him so much, and now you weren’t even sure if he missed you back, or if he had reason to. Maybe it was just a fling after all.

War feels long, but it’s only a short time in truth. Nonetheless, a short time that can define who you are thereafter. This could be him, and maybe it always was. And this could be how you two will always be. Forever.

You decide to break the silence again as you row, your thoughts becoming insufferable: “That’s actually not the right technique,” you stutter, “if- if you’re curious.” You start to row based on what you taught yourself, the canoe going just a bit faster now, “I read it in a book from Deana’s old library.”

“So you read somethin’ in a book and now you think you know everything?” His eyes were annoyed. “Hmph.”

Your voice raises, “Well just because you’re so experienced in the wilderness or whatever doesn’t mean you know everything either.”

“I’m doin’ it fine.” He wasn’t. “You don’t even know how to swim.” You didn’t. “So maybe just be glad you ain’t dying today.”

You repeat yourself, “Still- doesn’t- mean- you know how to do everything… You expect me to think Merle took you canoeing? Of all things?” You cock your head, “Pretty sure he was out finding the next score.” You knew it was a low blow to bring up the dead brother, but you were upset. No talking and now insults? You could be cold too, even colder, even if you didn’t like it.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up!”

Then you screamed. A walker with gills, swimming in the water approached your boat behind Daryl. Your voice made him turn around to see it. You take your paddle to try to stab it in the head, but the walker’s hands are along the canoe rim, coming closer to you, it makes you accidently hit Daryl with your swing. “Oh- Sorry!”

“Fuck!” He yelled.

“I’m sorry!” A realization comes, “Is this the guy?”

“If it was he’s been dead for a while.” Daryl shouts, taking out his gun and you take out your knife. He’s trying to shoot the walker in the head, it’s closer to your side now. But you’re thrashing and water is flying while you try to jab them in the head with your knife. The walker has one of your arms and you’re trying to pry it away with the hand that has the knife. Neither of you have a clear shot at getting the thing, all three of you rocking the canoe far too much.

“Stay still!” He yells at you.

“Im trying!” You shout with the same force, the same annoyance, “He’s not making it easy, Daryl!”

Daryl has a chance to shoot the walker in the stomach, and he takes it, but it does nothing. The walker’s hands on you do not quit. The two of you just keep yelling at each other, riling the walker up. You can hear the biting sounds they’re making near your arm.

He shoots again, but you and the walker are still moving too much and Daryl’s loosing balance. The walker is tipping the canoe with their hands, water splashing inside. The next bullet goes into the wood, making a hole.

Their starving mouth continues to try to bite at you. You pull using all your strength to get their mouth away, trying to use your other hand to slice into their head. You two have never seen a walker like this: they can swim and they’re so strong.

Water now fills the boat from the hole as Daryl moves forward on the canoe, pushing your head, his hand quite literally covering your whole face to shove you out of the way, getting a clear shot at the walker and firing at their head. He clicks twice: Boom. Boom. Guts and water fly everywhere.

The splashing of the water and the firing of his gun overwhelms all your senses. The weight of Daryl is on your side now, neither of you have balance; both your weights pull the canoe over the edge as it flips over entirely with you under it.

You scream, but your voice is muffled. You thrash around, trying to use what little experience you have. You come above water for a few seconds, wailing, and Daryl grabs you.

“Hey- Hey- Hey!” his words snap, rough like barks until he gets you to look at him, gripping your face so it’s forward. “It’s okay,” he’s breathing almost as heavy as you are. His voice becomes even now, “It’s okay.” You realize he has you in his arms— it really was okay.

Feeling he might make a comment about you almost drowning, you force yourself to speak through water filled lungs, “Don’t. Say it.”

So he didn’t. He just holds you tight, you even feel his thumbs squeezing into you at the waist now, and through half lidded eyes, you see his arms tense, working hard to make sure you never fall, but it’s at a half arm's length, his elbows bent. You blink rapidly, your wet eyelashes still flapping shut until you’re able to open them better. You can see Daryl more clearly now.

You try to swipe some of the hair out of your face. The baby hairs at the crown of your forehead stayed slick in place while some parts of your hair started to lightly form your wave or curl pattern, but in all, you were absolutely drenched.

Your hands now hold onto his forearms just as tight as his below. It was one of those rare moments where you remember just how blue his eyes are. Their narrow shape and the way his hair lays always hides them away. But the sun was behind you, casting its light directly on him and his hair was now slick to his head as well: only some of it resting on his forehead.

If someone were to describe Daryl’s looks, they would probably say something typical like dark and rugged. They don’t see what you see. God, you forgot how uniquely handsome he was.

His hair changed colors in the light, it wasn’t as dark brown anymore, flecks of it were a more golden brown in the sun. And you loved the mole that was just above his lip and facial hair. Almost no one else in the group had something like that. And now, there was the way his button down stuck onto his skin. The color was dark enough that it wasn’t see-through, but you saw every indent, every line of his bicep and tricep as you looked at his arms, trying to avoid his face, trying to avoid his chest or anywhere lower.

On the other hand, Daryl was trying even harder to avoid looking at your soaked body, failing even worse. His eyes couldn’t help but linger on how your chest huffed as you tried to catch your breath. Your collarbones are now exposed as your shirt slides down just a bit further, the light color almost see through because of the water, and your bra didn’t help much either. It was one of those without the padding, it was the only one that fit— your supplies, food and wearable, clean clothing, were running dangerously low at home. The thin material of both top garments showed how your nipples perked up now. And the way he had to grasp tightly on the smalls of your waist, feeling your stomach inhale and exhale as you calmed yourself down didn’t help either. It was like he felt your hold body moving… similar to a way he used to feel it.

It all makes him realize now how he hasn’t gotten the courage to look at you directly in the longest. God, he forgot how pretty you are. How lovely it was to hold you. Even if it was to escape death.

Your eyes are so big as you hold on tightly to his arms, you’re still shaken up. Trying to paddle your feet like you’ve seen on tv and in videos in the past. It’s adorable.

He didn’t dare look any longer, but part of him wondered if you were looking at him the same way. And you were. Specifically, the way you could see every line and ripple of his abdomen with his button up now glued to his body. As you let your eyes trail just a bit more form his arms, you noticed how magnified his chest looked, how his nipples were just as pert as yours.

It all made you feel something warm down below and it made something inside him twitch, but this wasn’t the time. He had been feeling so many things since he returned that he didn’t even know which ones to act upon first, so he reverted back to saying nothing, or at least nothing that had to do with how he really felt, how he really felt about you that is.

In the end, “You better hope I can make one of those shits run or we’re fucked,” was all he decided to say.

He moves your hands onto the back sides of his waist and he starts to swim. Your legs are off to the sides and he tells you to kick as he is and hold on tight as he swims you both to the middle boathouse, the one with the blood.

You hold onto the ledge as you finally arrive, allowing Daryl to go in first, checking for walkers at each boat. He does the side ones first. No one is there. Finally, he goes to the middle house: out of all of them, it’s the biggest wreck. The place is filled with pictures, Polaroids, scattered all over the place. It’s of the Saviors. And there’s all kinds of guns scattered on the floor, but he can’t help but to stare at the faces. He knew some of those faces.

You call his name, but he doesn’t respond. “What was in the other two?” You yell for him again, but nothing. You decide to go in the middle one as well, your eyes are amazed by the mess of guns on the floor. There were even ones still hooked up to the wall. There were knives and daggers too. Even glass cases with various bullets, you wondered what they did. Was this the emergency weapons stash? Had you reached it before a Savior could? “Why aren’t you picking this stuff up?” You look up at him impatiently, shaking your head and huffing, you’ll do it yourself you guess.

Daryl continues to look around, picking up a frame. The only framed picture in the boat. It was cracked on the ground: A Polaroid of Negan.

He takes the picture out of the broken glass to look at it closer. As if this wasn’t already the attitude of much of the Saviors, whoever lived and protected this place must have worshiped him. Negan stood proudly in it, his bat on the side of his shoulders, a big rifle strapped around his back on the other. His hair and beard was all black, and that notorious, all encompassing grin plastered his face from ear to ear. Daryl turned the picture over: the words, ‘Negan — The First Savior. My Savior,’ was written on the back.

It fired him up. It made him think of the dark, of that cell, of the food that probably wasn’t even food, when he was kicked and jumped by those Saviors in the parking lot, and that damn song— the saccharine melody would live on in his brain like a siren. There would never be silence inside him again. In fact, there never was. It was only louder now. So loud and so angry he feels it in his throat, traveling to his tongue, beneath his eyes, as he can no longer keep it in anymore; but he tries, and tries, and tries, quietly holding everything in while you keep collecting weapons, putting them in bags you find. The picture crumples in his closing hand, his fist turning red as he grips tightly, ruining the shining paper.

He slides down against the boat wall, sitting on the ground biting his tongue, stopping the feelings until you're done; until you two can leave and he can do what he needs to do. It’ll be without you, without Rick, without anyone. This needs to be done. He’ll do it.

“Daryl,” you call out, not facing him, collecting the bags. “I think I counted 32, but it could be 40… I think there’s smaller ones by the wheel and I didn’t even get the swords yet. If there's about the same number on the other two, there could be maybe over 100 new weapons,” you gasp with disbelief. “Were the other two like this?“

You we’re relieved, you knew it was a dumb plan, but you came out of it with a win; it was worth it. “Daryl, come on-” you turn to him now, “oh.”

You almost couldn’t see his eyes with how much more narrow he made them, they were practically closed and his face was down. You wondered if this was the moment you would first see him cry: his lip quivered, his face was as red as his fists, and he wouldn’t look in your direction, his head was basically to the wall as you started to walk to him.

Your movements are slow as you kneel down to the corner in which he sat. You place fingers along his jaw until your whole hand wraps around the area. Your strokes are gentle, feeling the bristles of his beard on your palm. He had been so angry since he returned, hell bent on war and death, but you remembered… he must have also been so sad, so depressed too. Poor boy, you thought. Poor boy, you forgot; in some ways, he still was just a boy.

You turn his cheek to face you, but his eyes don’t dare meet yours as a few tears start rolling out. Your own emerge too. It’s heartbreaking to see him like this.

You put your forehead to his, your nose rubbing against his own, “I’m so sorry,” you whisper.

You come even closer. Your lips lightly touch his, you’re tentative at first, not knowing if it was right, but then you feel his brush against yours just as light. You decide to move in, your lips parting his own as you kiss him.

Your tongue goes into his mouth, your hand raising his chin, you’re so delicate. He holds your shoulder, you lean into his bent body and your other hand slides against his chest. You’re both still wet and cold, but his heart beats warmly.

His head leans up against the wall as you push yourself further onto his lips. You hold his shoulders and he allows you to slide him down.

You look up at him, your hands on his shirt. This is not how you expected today to go. “Is this okay?” You ask softly. His nod is just as soft, you almost don’t see it, but his hands are lightly on top of your own as you unbutton his shirt, he lets you. It’s okay.

He’s unbuckling his belt now, pushing his pants down and your top goes over your head. He starts to unbutton your own jeans. It’s quiet except for your breaths, and the clinking of belts, and the undoing of zippers.

You pull him out a little more from the corner so you can straddle him. You start grinding your hips down into him and he pushes into your clit with his finger, circling it. The bit of warmness you felt below before is now almost pooling out instantly from just the littlest touches. Your back arches, you haven’t felt him in so, so long. You gasp and it accidentally turns into a moan. You’re so needy for it, but you remember: you want to help him.

Your hands move down to his stomach, your lips kiss his neck as your hands travels up to his chest and then back down, you start kissing him everywhere there as you do so, breathing him in, it makes him fidgety, little gruff sounds irruption from his throat, he’s trying to keep it in. Then you got even lower: you kiss down his cock until you’re at the tip. You lick at the pre-cum there. You put just a little bit of him inside your mouth, sucking, stroking the rest of it. His exhale comes out as a shaky gasp, he whimpers slightly.

Finally, you move back up and line yourself up with him, sinking down slowly as you look him in the eyes. You can’t help it, you start to ride him immediately thereafter. The stretch feels so good and so big and full as if you’ve never felt him before. Your moan is light and airy, you missed him. And he groans, “-ugh, fuck” and moans, “uh- mm- argh,” right after you do so. He missed you. You know that now, it makes you smile.

You lean up against him slightly. His mouth parted and you speak into it, your breast brushing against him as you rolled onto him, your stomached touching a bit. “I’ve got you,” you pant into his mouth, he’s panting too, “always.”

He holds onto your hips as you go faster, you’re holding onto his shoulders. “Does it feel good?” You kiss him right after you ask, his tongue going to the top of your mouth, sliding in wet and deliciously, it’s everything you’ve waited for. He hums into you as a response. You feel his dick twitch as your pussy grips on him tighter.

You feel like you both could be close until he starts kissing you more fiercely. His tongue only slipping in slightly as he pecks your lips, he bites down slightly, then kissing you deeply again. Then he turns you over. You’re under him now. His hands go right by your ears, flat on the ground and he thrusts into you. Hard. It almost hurts, you can’t lie. He’s grunting, short and quick, but his rasp, and his hair flying as he quickens the pace, and the fact that pain is slowly turning into pleasure… you’re fine with it. If this is what he needs, you’re fine with it.

His next grunt is almost a yell, it’s like a battle cry. He’s angry and you know it. You hold onto his flex arms tenderly, caressing him, silently telling him you’re there, but you allow him to continue.

His movements are faster now. More irate. His body comes closer to yours, but his movements do not stop their force. His thrusts feels like poundings, you feel like the floor is moving, maybe the boat is rocking, the bags jump with it.

He looks at your screwed shut eyes as one of his hands comes to touch your chest. Trailing your breast, then to the bottom of your stomach, staying there, pressing down, feeling himself inside of you has he shoves himself up and in, he’s deep, so deep. “Mmm,” You’re whining now, “-uuh.” It makes his eyes lighten, he’s humming, low and gruff and continuous, stuttering into you, eyes open waiting to see you come so then he can. It’s right there for him, but he wants to see you, he needs it.

Your moan mixes into a whine, “Daryl please,” you beg, “Daryl please- it’s- it’s too much, it hurts,” it makes him go even faster, and he can’t help himself as he comes in you first, sighing as he does so, but it’s exactly what you need to come undone yourself.

You grab the back of his neck, holding it close to you as you squeeze your arms around him and he does the same to your waist.

You both try to calm your breaths, “Never leave me again,” you say into his ear, breathing roughly. “Please.”

“Never.” He looks at you right in the eye when repeats it, “Never.” He wipes the tears from your face as you both nod, affirming a new promise to each other. “We’ll win. Together.”

After laying for a few moments, just looking at each other, he goes to the bathroom to find a washcloth, warming it with water, helping you clean up. He takes your hand so you can start doing it yourself and he kisses your forehead before he starts to get dressed. “I’ll be back.”

Soon enough, you hear the engine in the front start to rev up. He got it to work.

“You can drive a boat?”

“Gonna learn.” He turns to you, pulling you in front resting your hands on the wheel while he stands behind, his arms over your own. “We both are.”