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hellishjoel · 1 year ago

Text

burning desire

10.3k // pairing:dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader

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pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3

summary: An argument with your mother before family dinner leaves Joel worried about you. He sneaks you away to grab a drink and talk about what’s on your mind.

warnings: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, dbf/neighbor!joel, soft-hot-protective!joel, rocky mother-daughter relationship (this one ain't for the weak - mommy issues galore) & discussions of verbal fighting, slight clues of abandonment issues, smut, swearing, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel in his 40s), pet names, praise!kink activated, unprotected p in v (yes finally, the edging is over), mentions of birth control, slight cockwarming if you squint, slight degradation kink

A/N: I crave three things after writing this chapter: Joel, Joel Miller, Joel fucking Miller. Also, I’m almost done with The Last of Us Part 1 :(( sad that it’s ending, but it’s been so much fun to play! Enjoy this chapter <3

Your parents make good on their invitation and ask Joel over for dinner. A steak dinner, to be exact. Paired with wine, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a pie your parents picked up from the local bakery in town.

You sort of hope Joel pulls out his long list of excuses to evade any awkwardness.

Sorry, can’t tonight. I’m finishin’ up somethin’ for work. Can’t wait another day.

Or,

Hey, maybe another night. Not feelin’ too hot.

When in reality, it’s more like,

I can’t come over for dinner tonight because I might bend your daughter over my truck if I see her again.

As active as you and Joel have been, you have yet to hit a home run in lewd baseball terms. In fact, all the bases in your and Joel’s game were totally screwed up. You hit third base before you hit first, and you weren’t even sure if there was a second base. It was all just so confusing now.

But you wanted the home run, you wanted Joel, you desired him in that light. You wondered if he was ready for it.

Screwed over by your father asking Joel over for dinner and screwed over by Joel agreeing, you had no other choice but to sit through it and act like everything was normal.

And everything was normal for the first half of the day before you and your mother got into it.

The argument was recycled. You wished she would come up with better material. But it always came down to what you wanted to do after this summer since you recently graduated. And that was an ongoing war.

After two door slams, your mother retreating to her bunker, and you finding shelter in the bathroom, you’d say today’s battle was over.

You sit on the floor, bare feet touching cold tile. In a way, it soothes your shaky body.

No matter how old you get, this feeling never seems to waver with its intensity. The feeling that no one’s listening, no matter how hard you scream for them to hear you. Regardless of how often you have these conversations, you become a small child again, being scolded and told that what you thought and wanted wasn’t right.

You managed to collect your journal expertly hidden in your bedroom before fleeing to the safety of the bathroom. You flip open the pages with teary eyes.

You wish you didn’t have to admit that this was your safe space. On the bathroom floor, back flushed against the dark wood door as you closed your eyes and tried to calm your breathing.

June 17th 2:28 P.M.

Mom started a fight with me about not traveling again. She says it’s crucial for me to start my career immediately. I don’t even know what I want to be yet.

You have to pause to blink back tears. You wish you had your life figured out like it felt everyone else did.

Why does she have to care so much that I want to leave for a little bit? It’s not like it’s forever. There’s so much more out there. I’ve studied miscellaneous classes for four years and want a break. Why do we always have to have this conversation over and over again? She always asks how I will take care of student loans and bills. I have repeatedly told her that I’ve been saving up for a while to do this. She keeps saying she wants what’s best for me and doesn’t want me to start my career too late. She says it’s hard to let me go.

I love her, and I appreciate her support through school, but school is what taught me about independence as well as academics. I want to live my life and have experiences you can only get by leaving home for a little bit. Maybe then I’ll better understand what I want for my future.

Your writing pauses, and you stare straight ahead at the beige wall, blurry eyes reading another cheesy sign. Bathroom - Open 24 Hours - Seat Yourself.

You decide to spare a moment of your mother’s casualties and pencil in something else that’s been recently stirring.

I’ve been seeing Joel Miller casually since the start of this summer. I can’t believe I’m even writing this. It’s weird -- but in a way, it’s also not? He’s older by like a mile, but he’s familiar, comfortable. Easy to talk to. It doesn’t feel like he’s judging me. I’m not trying to read too much into it, but this summer sucks less because of Joel. Whether he knows it or not.

---

You and your mother work around each other while setting up dinner in the backyard garden. She steps back inside to grab more wine glasses.

You’ve put on a nice summer dress. The hem lands somewhere on your thighs and flows with the breeze. After sobbing on the cold bathroom tile for an hour, you don't feel very pretty, but eating outside and soaking up some fresh air might make you feel better.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Joel Miller was the largest, broadest, lumberjack-est man you had ever met, but he moved as quietly as a mouse. Your eyes blink a few times as you haphazardly set down the bowl of mashed potatoes on the circular table.

“Hi.”

Your voice is raw and red, softer than usual. Joel seems to instantly take notice. You see it in the way his eyes soften. He moves a little closer, hands resting on the back of one of the white outdoor dining chairs.

Your face probably reads more panicky than intended. He picks up on your faulty mood and assumes the worst.

“Do they.. Do they know?” He asks, eyebrows knitted with a deep furrow in between.

Your eyes go doe-ish, shaking your head and occupying your hands with a spare cloth napkin.

“What? No. Why would you think that?”

He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t have to. He takes one long look over your being and you feel it in the space between you.

Somethin’s wrong.

Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine, Joel.

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing on you more.

Suddenly, you felt exposed. Like someone had ripped the curtain open on you. No one had ever seen right through you like this before. It was unsettling, but god, you just wanted to lean right into it.

If your parents weren’t just inside, you’d walk right into his front and curl your head in his chest just under the hook of his chin. You’d close your eyes and wrap your small arms around his waist.

He’d encircle you in his big, protective arms and shield you from the pain you’ve felt today. You’d listen to his heart thrumming against his chest, using the rhythm to try and slow down your breathing while he whispers to you in his sweet southern drawl.

S’alright, sweetheart. Everything’s gonna be okay. I see you tryin’.

His eyes flitter into light again, ease passing across his features.

“Like the dress.” He looks over you with a condescending little smirk. This man has never seen you in a dress in your life.

“Shut up. It’s just for dinner.”

He lets out a cocky little tut. “‘Cause you knew I was comin’ over?”

When you look up at him again, his hand gently rests over yours. You don’t have time to appreciate it; the sliding back door opens, and your father’s big booming laughter shakes the nearby lake. Joel’s subtle touch is instantly gone.

“Joel! So good to see you! Hey, great bonfire a few weeks ago.”

You take a deep breath and excuse yourself from the shop talk. You don’t want to be alone with your mother in the house, but the table still needs to be set up. You work around each other in silence. She grabs the salad, you grab the dinner rolls and green beans. You could hear a pin drop.

---

Dinner would have been better if you had an appetite. You spent the majority of your time making a tilled farm field out of your mashed potatoes. You’d flatten out your helping with a fork and then gently run the fork’s ribs through the moldable potatoes and create little crop lines out of it. You don’t always play with your food, but you weren’t really up for conversation. Your mother takes notice. She hates it. She hates that you were letting your personal problems exist in the company of others.

The only time you looked up even slightly was when Joel started talking. Sort of a calm in an unknown storm, you suppose. He looked so handsome without even really trying. You wore a crooked smile as you looked over the dark green button-up he was wearing. It was starting to be your favorite color, he wore it so well.

There were points where your parents would turn to each other. And Joel would turn to you. It was sort of a silent check-in.

Under the protection of the table, his hand found your knee, his big fingers lightly playing with the hem of your dress. It was the first time you cracked a real smile all dinner. Your hand ghosted over his, your nails lightly running soothing, slow lines on the underside of his wrist by his watch.

You doin’ okay?

Mhm.

It didn’t dawn on you that Joel might have felt he did something to cause your saddened mood. And this was his way of asking. You bit down on your lower lip, feeling his fingers lightly interlock with yours over your knee. Your eyelashes flutter at the warmth it propels through your body. It was just what you needed. Everything was going to be okay.

---

You’re working over a stubborn steak juice stain on a plate as the sun sets over the lake and glistens a soft yellow-orange hue through the windows in the kitchen. Your parents are moving around you while you rinse the dishes, back turned to them as they spoke in mundane conversation and pack up leftovers.

You don’t see him, but you can feel Joel’s presence as he enters the doorway. He watches you. He watches your parents. You wonder what he sees. The next thing you know, he’s shaking your parents hands and bidding them goodnight.

He stops at you. As the running faucet splashes against a few forks and a wine glass, you spare him a glance.

“Walk me out?” Your parents take notice of his ask. And not in the way you expect.

You tilt back and forth on your feet, looking back to the dishes. You really just wanted to finish what was left to clean and read in your room for the rest of the night.

“Uhm-”

“Go on and walk him out, honey. We’ll see you soon, Joel. Thanks for stoppin’ in.”

Your eyes go from Joel’s, to your parents. If they were anything, at least they were oblivious.

You and your mother share a look before she sighs and exits the kitchen. Your jaw loosens, not even realizing how hard you were grinding your teeth while looking at her.

“Yeah. Okay.” Your murmured voice is barely audible above the gushing sink faucet. After you set the plate on the drying rack and smear your wet hands on a dish towel, you walk Joel outside.

The night breeze off the lake sets in a layer of goosebumps up your arms.

Joel’s boots scuff against the gravel and dirt in his driveway, his footsteps pausing at his truck and turning to face you.

The rising moon and setting sun work in unison to highlight his aquiline nose and silver-sprinkled jawline. He’s charmingly handsome. Rugged features meet a stone facade.

You take a hesitant look back into the house. The kitchen light is still on, but no one is in the small windows.

“You wanna tell me what’s really goin’ on with you?” He crosses his arms, cocking his leg out as he leans his weight onto one of his hips.

You muster up a shrug and fold your hands around your arms to keep the light chill away. It felt like you couldn’t tell the truth, the house and your parents inside watching over you. The pressure of it all makes your shoulders lurch up a bit into your neck.

But Joel continues to press you. You’re making him nervous, you think, because he’s not accustomed to seeing you so quiet.

“Are you..” His words falter and fall off, and you can see the frown creased into his mouth. “You’re wantin’ t’stop seein’ each other?”

“What?” Now you’re the one frowning, closing the gap between you and Joel and taking him by his hand to the other side of the truck, using it as a shield between you and the rest of the world. Your back flushes against his driver-side door.

“No, I don’t want to stop seeing you, Joel.” You frown and squeeze his hand a little tighter in assurance. “Trust me. You’re kind of..” You struggle to make the words fit. Nothing seems right. You’re kind of the only person I want to be around right now.

Joel looks a little relieved. He doesn’t make you finish your sentence. He seems to connect the dots. Joel looks from your solemn face to the house behind you—the cause of your ill-stricken mood.

“How about we grab a drink n’talk.” It’s not a question, exactly, it’s more like a command.

You don’t want to talk about what happened, and you have a sneaking suspicion that if you two go off together, your parents will be asking questions.

You push the toe of your sneaker into the gravel and twist slowly back and forth.

“I should just head back inside. My parents are probably waiting up for me, anyway. Cleanup duty.” You say unenthusiastically with a dash of sarcasm. Joel’s eyes are looking past you, still at the house. You turn around to follow his eyeline. All the lights in the house have been turned off—even the porch light. Joel scowls at the sight, thinking how he always leaves the light on for Sarah.

The caged-in feeling returns, your chest tight as you look to your feet and try to breathe through the ache your heart held. You wanted to get out of here, and now.

“Never mind.” You bite down on your lower lip to hold it together. “Let’s go.”

You’re already swinging open Joel’s door, rust creaking at the joints as you slide into the passenger seat. These old trucks with no center console were so cool to you. Maybe you'd appreciate it more if you weren’t in such a shitty mood. But Joel’s already in the truck beside you, the warmth he’s radiating was welcome. His key turns in the ignition, and it clicks a few times before the engine roars to life.

You don’t talk, he doesn’t force you to. You feel at peace putting some distance between you and the lakehouse.

Joel drives past neighborhoods with funny street names. Thunderbird Lane. Firefly Drive. Sugar Loaf Lane.

As the sun just finishes setting, the whole town is covered in an orange glow that will soon fade to purple. Everything flies by your window, and moving at this speed feels like the cage is lifting around your chest, the clasps on your wrist snapping free.

Rolling down the window makes the breeze funnel into the truck and flow through your hair. Before you know it, your body is halfway out of the window.

“What ‘n God’s name do you think you’re doin’?” Joel’s tone was warning, his fist catching your dress in a fist around your lower back in an attempt to make sure you didn’t get thrown out of the truck. “Get back in here.”

You turned back so Joel could see you, eyes lit, and a smile from ear to ear. His hold slowly loosens at the sight before him.

Back arched out the window, he drives a little slower and towards the center of the road. You look up, arms outstretched into the night air as you breathe everything in. Fresh lungs, filled with a new perspective, no tears left to cry as you hang out of Joel’s window. The stars gleam, and the universe is vast.

Oh my god. You hear yourself mumble, feeling freedom reeling through your entire body. And like that, you were new again.

A satisfied sigh leaves your lips. You’re back in the truck now, and you roll the window up but not completely closed. The wind still tickles a breeze into your thrown-about hair. You look to Joel, his eyes already on yours.

Joel sees your fire has been re-lit, thrashing out licks of flame and building in intensity. He adores you wild and free.

“Better?”

You fix the space between you, your body melting into his side as your head lazily rolls onto his shoulder. His heavy arm finds its way around the tops of your shoulders to keep you sedentary.

“Much better.”

---

He ends up passing the central part of town. It’s better this way. Go somewhere he won’t be recognized with a woman half his age. He’s the one who lives in town throughout the year. You and your family only visit in the summer. It doesn’t help that the town is small, and Joel is one of a handful of skilled contractors in the area.

His rusted truck lulls to a jittery stop outside a small bar lit by a red neon sign reading, Past Lives. You wander inside, passing empty barstools and a glowing dartboard, while your sneakers crunch peanut shells littering the ground. You nearly slipped on a large pile of them, but Joel’s hand was firmly on your bicep before you could flail any further.

“You might be the clumsiest woman I’ve ever met.” He mutters, annoyance passing over his features.

You roll your eyes and scoot onto one of the tall barstools at a small square table against the wall. “I doubt that’s true.”

He shrugs his shoulders and cracks open a peanut, tossing it into his mouth. “You’re right. Your mother is the clumsiest woman I know. You get it from her. Once, I watched her glide five or six feet down the end of the dock and land in the water.”

An ill feeling passes over you again, pursing your lips as you trace your finger around the small bowl Joel is picking his peanuts from.

Joel halts his movements, chewing included, and watches as your eyes stare meaninglessly at the table.

“Never really seen you like this. Thought I’d like it if you were quiet for once. But now it just feels out of character.”

Joel’s boot teasingly nudges your sneaker under the table. His brown eyes look warm despite the lack of light in the dingy bar. Your stomach twists thinking about how he looked under the moonlight just half an hour ago.

Those pretty eyes of his meet yours. Soft. Kind. “Talk to me.”

A beaten-up sigh leaves your lips, tugging at the hem of your dress.

After a drink or two, you tell Joel everything he missed before dinner. How you and your mother fought. How it was all venom and tears, leaving you cold and alone on the bathroom tile. By the time the battle came to a halt, there was no clear winner or loser.

Joel’s an attentive listener. He doesn’t interrupt. He knows when to prompt you need a push. Joel’s pile of peanut shells has turned into a small molehill. The ice in your drink sloshes around as you start talking with your hands.

“I love her, I mean, she’s my mom. But she’s always fought me on this. This-this-...”

“The traveling,” Joel assists, his large hand nursing a small glass of whiskey. He looks amused like he enjoys watching you spew. You supposed he feels more relieved to see you explode like this rather than holding it all in.

“And-and it’s so much more than that! She fought me about leaving Texas for school, she fought me about doing a semester abroad, she just can’t let me go, it’s suffocating!”

You didn’t mean to sound so passionate, and you hadn’t realized how vocal you became until someone slowly clapped on the other side of the bar in appreciation. You stifled a laugh and put your head shyly in your hands.

He nods slowly, waiting to see what you’ll say next. You’re using him like you’re journaling at home, now it’s just interactive.

You sigh and pinch at the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes as you listen to an old country slow song humming throughout the bar.

“Didn’t even wanna come back this year.” Your words are barely above a murmur.

This makes Joel pause. “What d’you say?”

You sit up straight and sigh, crossing one leg over the other under the table. These stupid drinks are making you tell the truth. Be more vulnerable than you would ordinarily be. But it’s also because you’re talking to Joel, and he’s always been interested in what you have to say.

“I didn’t want to come back this year. These past few years, I didn’t come back to Danbury because I sort of- purposely- busied up my summer. Internships, work, anything to keep me busy and out from under their-their….” You pause to make hand gestures that are wide and all-encompassing.

Joel juts his jaw out to the side, lips pursed before he speaks again.

“M’happy you came back.”

There’s a moment of silence. Joel’s eyes aren’t on yours anymore. He’s swirling his glass around slowly and watching his ice rotate in a sloppy circle. You slowly start to smile as he looks bashful.

“What did you say, Mr.Miller?” You pry teasingly, reaching your hand over and gently stroking his watch band. The nickname makes his eyes narrow on yours.

“Nothin’. Forget about it.” He throws back the last of his drink, and you’re cooing for him to continue.

“Wha- Joel, come on! Why did you say that?”

He’s just trying to buckle down his smile, hiding it with his whiskey glass and shaking his head.

“Didn’t say nothin’.”

“Yes, you so did. Don’t even try to lie.”

“I’ve never lied a day in my life.”

Your eyes go wide, and now you’re smacking his forearm. He’s shoving quarters at you now, sliding them to your side of the table as a form of distraction.

“Can you just-” He scoffs under his breath and rolls his eyes, finalizing his quarter total to four. “-fuck off, go put a song on the jukebox.”

You sneer at him but obey. You look for something particular, pausing on Little Lies by Fleetwood Mac, smirking at him as you punch in his quarters. He seems confused as to why you stay standing at the jukebox.

The chorus hits, and you point accusingly at him as you do so.

“Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies,” you can’t even finish before your right foot catches on more slippery peanut shells, freezing like you were caught on ice skates and trying not to fall.

Joel’s hand has a vice grip on your bicep again until you regain your balance. God. Your face gathers heat as you snatch your phone off the table, and he lets out a laugh at your expense.

“Can’t sing,”

“Hey-”

“Can’t walk in a straight line.”

“I had like four drinks.”

“Two.” He corrects. There’s no hiding that you’re just unbearably uncoordinated.

“God. Just- get me out of here, Miller.”

Joel was biting back a smile. He likes teasing you, taunting you. Only because you know how to serve it back to him.

“Not until you see this. Wanna show you somethin’.” He sets down his whiskey and lays down cash to cover the tab.

You start your stride, and Joel’s already looking at you with instilled concern. You insist I’m fine. Go on. You follow him through a narrow hallway towards the restrooms, an exit door lit up with a red sign over it.

The walls are filled with signs, pictures, and letters, all illuminated by a soft flickering strip light. These were trails that people had left along the way, passing through the bar and leaving a piece of them behind for strangers to admire. It was like a memory wall.

Joel leans back against the men’s restroom doorframe, arms crossed as he silently admires the wall. And you.

Your fingers brush an old family picture timestamped from the late 80s. There were business cards, from bankers to bonds bailsman.

You feel Joel’s hand cast warmth on your hip, guiding you further down the hall. You follow his eyeline to a large yellow-light spoiled wall map. There were push pins all in different parts of the world.

“Look at all of these, Joel!” Your eagerness was evident as you stepped in front of him, finger flying from one point to the next, squinting past the tacks to read the cities people have visited.

“Bangkok, Thailand. Paris, France. Of course. London, Dubai, Tokyo.” Your voice trails off, finger-stopping around the empty parts of the map that some of the bargoers had yet to venture off to. The pins around the state of Texas were ironic.

You gently took a step back, Joel's broad and hardened front caressing your back. His arms gently wrap around you before they clasp at your front. You rest your temple against his bicep as you sigh. You found comfort in him tonight more than he could understand.

Your neck cranes to the side and up, observing his defined jawline from below. “Have you ever been out of the country?” Your face is lit with excitement, only to fall as he slowly shakes his head. You turn back to the map, your fingers gently holding onto his muscular forearm.

“Am I crazy for wanting to leave?”

You can feel a heavy breath leave through Joel’s nose, the air fanning over the top of your head.

“You’re not leavin’. You’re travelin’. You’ll come back, eventually.”

The muscle in your jaw twitches, and your eyes move to the Eastern side of the map, spotting the tiny European countries.

“Maybe my mom is so worried that if I decide to leave, I might not come back.” You say it as a joke. It makes Joel muster up a tut. But maybe, just maybe, you mean it.

---

You feel drops scatter from the dark black clouds overhead as you rush out to the truck, feeling the cold rain splash onto the exposed skin of your thighs.

Joel’s hot on your heels, doing his little side hop down the stairs and jogging lightly with his arms tucked into his sides. He’s already tossed you the keys to his truck. His body hovers over yours and shields the raindrops from landing on your head as you fiddle with unlocking the truck door.

“Any day now.”

His babbling thwarts your concentration.

“Fuck off, it’s like- rusted shut.” You tease before giving the handle one large tug, and it gives way with a creak. You slip in, dress hem tangling up on your upper thighs. Your hand flies to fix it instinctually, but you slow down when you see how adamantly Joel admires the exposed skin.

When you two make eye contact, he’s already cleared his throat and put the key in the ignition. He cranes his neck back to look out the rearview window, left hand cranking the wheel with precision while his right arm wraps around the back of your headrest. You swallow the lump in your throat, watching Joel reverse out of the bar’s parking lot and back onto the main road.

Your heart thumps, and you think he can hear it because his eyes are on yours when he turns back around. Magnetizing. And you have a hard time facing him without feeling a little shy. Because you’re thinking incredibly naughty things now.

On the drive home, the rain pelts the truck and hard. Joel’s wimpy wipers are working at full speed. He’s not concerned because he knows these streets with his eyes closed. He turns up the radio a little bit to drown out the rain. He does it for you to ease your nerves.

“You’re quiet.” He murmurs, his eyes still on the murky road in front of him.

You can’t help but be quiet. He looks so fucking hot. As dim streaks of lightning skitter across the sky, you see the silver hairs in his mustache and beard. His rain-dampened curls are recoiling, fresh, and wavy. His thick neck was lined with strong veins and muscle.

“So are you.” You murmur back.

His eyes catch you in sneaky glances. Your hair, pretty and dry since he shielded you in the bar’s parking lot. Dress half rumpled up your thighs, smooth skin of your legs exposed to his wandering pupils.

The truck suddenly shifts, veering off the main road.

“Woah,” you gasp, thinking the truck had slid at first. But Joel’s foot was still on the gas, cautiously guiding you off to a side road. You look around, covered by darkness and trees that shield your existence but do little to veil the obscene thoughts racing through your head.

Joel finally throws the truck into a parked position, your eyes watching as his hand snaps the keys out of the ignition.

He looks over at you expectantly. And you just deadpan.

“Get over here." He says between gritted teeth, voice drenched in lust as he snaps off his seatbelt and then your own.

His large hands pull you in as soon as you’re free. You don’t waste another minute, straddling his lap and resting between him and his steering wheel.

You clutch the collar of his dark green button-up, tugging him by his neck into your kiss. It’s messy and desperate, but you've wanted to taste him since dinner. His greedy hands are wrinkling your dress. The cold air tickles your warm thighs, and you whimper into his mouth.

Joel’s kisses are rough but fluent; he speaks the language of your lips. You take a moment to admire how different the two of you are and how it feels like he’s the key to your lock.

His warm palms slip up the front of your thighs as he kisses you, hasty and happy. He takes the hem of your dress with him. Joel is as warm as a furnace. He’s heating you from the inside out as your core begins to ache for him.

He pauses the kiss, large palm coming up to cup your cheek as his thumb traces along your lower lip. You take the time to catch your breath, feeling his own fog against the window next to you.

“Not exactly the most romantic spot.” His eyes shift with lust-filled guilt. “M’sorry.”

You work up a smile, leaning in to gently kiss his cheek and up his cheekbone.

“It’s okay. We’re not romantic.” Your clarification feels like a lie. He doesn’t need to know that.

The rain outside becomes blurred, and Joel’s looking through you again. Right through you. Your chest pounds under his watchful eyes. He sucks in the side of his cheeks, looks you up and down your face.

Don’t lie to me.

Don’t make me tell you the truth.

He decides to let you move on unscathed, your thighs clamping around his own with your knees at either side of his hips. His worry lines are stamped into his forehead as he looks over you cautiously.

You break into a smile, unable to stand him looking at you like you’re a lost puppy. “Joel,” you whisper into his ear, soft lips giving his ear a kiss as your nose lightly brushes against his soft curls. Your voice drops to a whisper, sweet and divine. “Don’t make me beg, Mr. Miller.”

Your lips suckle his earlobe and cast your tongue along the curve while his fingertips immediately dig deeper into the flesh of your hips. The sensation makes his cock twitch in his jeans.

You smirk as you grind your hips into his lap, a suppressed grunt leaving his parted lips. He’s into it. “You like this, Mr. Miller?” Your words are murmured against the shell of his ear, teeth gently catching his earlobe and lightly tugging.

Your words along with the rhythm of your hips over his lap have him in a tailspin.

“Knock it off.” He warns, teeth gritted, a low growl emitting from his throat while he grips you at the waist to pause any movement. He looks so sexy snarling at you like this. Your hand reaches between you two, palming against his cock until you feel it swell into the heart of your hand.

Joel is lazily planting kisses on the soft skin of your neck, he’s distracted by how good your hand feels.

You take turns half undressing one another. Joel pushes your dress up to your waist and loops his index finger into the band of your panties. He guides them down with your assistance. You kick the material off your ankles and move to pop open each button of his long sleeve. He goes to shrug it off, but you smile and tighten your hold on the collar.

“I like it on. Just wanna see your chest hair.”

His mouth tilts into a crooked smirk.

“‘lright, then. Good to know.” He leans back in and places messy kisses on your exposed neck. You can feel how badly he wants to sink his teeth in, but you share the mutual rule of keeping those things below the collar. Out of sight, out of other people’s nosy minds.

You struggle to admit that jimmying open his belt at this angle was pissing you off. You’re holding your breath until it clicks open, and you let out a sigh of relief. So does Joel.

A gasp leaves your lips as Joel lifts the both of you up purely with the strength of his hips, a low grunt leaving his pouted lips as he pushes his jeans down to his knees, along with his boxers. You sit back down over him and feel his heavy shaft pressing against your slick center. His girth makes you whimper.

The rhythm of the rain eases your racing heart. You take Joel’s pulsing member into your slightly shaky hand.

“Nervous?” It’s not cocky or concerned, just curious.

“M’not nervous.” You mutter, starting to pump his cock to get him to shut up. And it works. For a minute.

His head falls back into the seat as he watches you in admiration, his own hand wandering between your spread legs and gliding two fingers through your slick. His forefinger grazes against your clit, and he has you whimpering again.

“S’okay to be nervous.” His thumb slowly starts delicate circles into your bundle of nerves, and now he’s got your legs quivering.

You’re chewing at the inside of your cheek, shifty eyes meeting his. You pace your words this time. “I’m not nervous, Joel.” You pull away from him to create a line of spit from your mouth, landing on his pink tip already drizzling in precum. You swallow your nerve and bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Not with you.”

The mutual understanding links the two of you together, bound to the agreement in silence. You have a burning desire for one another. You’re scared, and he knows it. You push him to the limits, his heart beats for you.

Steam fogs the windows of Joel’s truck. The rain dances a fine line between pounding and pouring to slow and subtle.

Joel’s kisses lull you into a peaceful existence. You take off your dress, unable to stand anything between you and Joel. He’s warm as he wraps his arms around you, your tits flush against his thick chest.

You line him up by his base, Joel’s trying to hold himself still under you. You’re focusing hard, and he kisses your temple to ease your thoughts. He murmurs something, but you’re too busy concentrating.

His pink tip meets your warm flesh, and his tip slowly parts your walls. He’s seething between his teeth, how tight you are washes pleasure over his face. He wants you to go slow. You don’t want him to go easy on you. You can’t help but let his name tumble from your lips in desperation.

“Joel,” you whine, one hand clenching the fabric of his button-up by his shoulder while the other still weakly holds his base.

“M’here, baby.”

He’s rubbing soothing circles in your hips with his forefingers, trying to distract you from the stretch he’s creating inside you.

His breaths are coming out in hot puffs. The truck isn’t cold anymore, in fact, it’s only steaming up.

“So- fuckin’- tight.” He murmurs, eyebrows knitted together as his jaw was dropped open.

It was sharp at first, but the further you sank over him, the more you couldn’t contain yourself. As soon as his balls were flushed against your core, you were kissing him. Hot and heavy, desperate and needy, can’t get enough of each other sort of kisses. One of his hands holds the back of your head to keep you close while your fingers are delicately feeling up his chest and mazing through salt and pepper hair.

You smirk lazily against his lips, pulling away to rest your head on his shoulder. With this leverage, you start to roll your hips down onto his. Joel’s hands assist, squeezing your ass and guiding you smoothly up and down his shaft. You’re both moaning one another’s names, hazy eyes watching each other as long as they can before eventually drifting closed.

You wished you weren’t fucking in his truck, your riding skills were a lot better than this, but if you try and pop up, your head will just smack into the roof. And he’ll make fun of you for as long as he knows you.

“God- feel so good, Joel.”

You’re panting already a few minutes in. You don’t want Joel to think you can’t do this, you don’t want his help. But your body is crammed in limited quarters, and you’re already sweating.

He feels good. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s had sex. He’s not exactly the most outgoing of gentlemen. Thinking about him being with other women, maybe even women his age stirs a weird pit inside your stomach.

One hand steadies itself on Joel’s forearm while the other gently clutches his cheek. You leave a messy moan against his ear.

“Do you like fucking girls half your age, Mr. Miller?” You ask with a teasing smirk, messy kisses against his stubble and his ear ensuing.

He’s grunting every time you throw yourself back into him, skin clapping against his thighs, his hands slipping from your hips to your ass and squeezing the juicy flesh. “-like fuckin’ you.”

A low, extended groan leaves his lips as he holds your hips down, filling you full and having you sit with it. You throw your head back, and your eyes shudder closed with a loud moan occupying the truck.

You tell yourself that you’re both just fuck happy. You can worry about the depth of Joel’s words later. He feels too good inside of you for the first time to give a shit.

Joel’s thrusts bring you back to life, hand landing against his window and leaving a print mark against the steamy glass.

Joel senses your languid movements. He thinks you look pretty being fucked in his trunk during a thunderstorm. The darkness wraps the both of you up, only seeing flashes of each other’s features. He combs his large hand into your hair, catching your striking features with his hooded eyes. The slope of your nose. The curvature of your collarbones. Your pretty lips that he can’t stop staring at.

Joel enjoys the control too much for you to be on top for a second longer.

You collapse onto the truck’s long leather seat, lips parting in surprise as he maneuvers you to lie back without slipping from your entrance.

“H-Holy fuck, Joel-” You’re breathless.

Joel’s jaw clicks tighter as he flattens one of his large palms beside your head for leverage, hovering over you as he begins to methodically snap his hips into yours. Your desperate cries for more fill the truck.

Both of you are horridly cursing, some in the form of whines and moans and others in the form of whispered grunts.

Fuckin Christ-

Holy shit, Joel, please-

Feel so god damn good, princess-

Oh f- fuck me Joel, fuck me!

You’re already feeling the knots in your stomach tether tighter and tighter together, back arching as your chest brushes against his nose.

Joel takes the opportunity and licks a hot stripe between your breasts. You know he tastes your glistening sweat, but the trail from his tongue makes you clench tighter around him.

You catch Joel’s unfiltered groan in your mouth, his forehead resting against yours as his amber eyes grace yours.

He’s close, you can see it in the way his features contort and his thrusts become more unpredictable. You had no idea he could fuck this good.

Joel brings a hand up to your lips and offers you two fingers. You whimper but reluctantly take them past your mouth. You suckle and lather your tongue up and down each digit, it makes his cock twitch inside of you.

He plucks his fingers free with a pop, a trail of spit extending from your bottom lip to your chin as he reaches between you both.

Finding your swollen bundle of nerves doesn’t take him more than a second. You were so turned on it was almost painful.

Joel’s tip sweetly kisses your cervix at this angle, and you are so close to spilling over. Your hands cup his face, pulling him into you as you share a messy kiss. You think about how scared you were to kiss him before, but now it makes you feel a sense of protection and safety. You wrap your arms around his neck, you need him close.

“Joel,” you whimper, clenching your eyes closed and dropping your jaw as he finds the perfect rhythm circling your clit.

“Can’t hear ya, baby,” He grunts into your ear. You can feel him tiredly smirking against your cheek, knowing he’s fucking you so good you’re struggling to find the words.

“Fuck,” you mutter, your legs clenching tighter at the sides of his hips. “M’on birth control, finish inside me,” you whisper against his ear.

You can hear him let out a short, breathy chuckle against your ear. It only drives him more, knowing he can fill you up.

“Y’sure, sweetheart?”

“Want to?”

His teeth are gritted as he growls into your ear. “Course I wanna fill your sweet cunt up.”

It was hopeless after that.

A crack of thunder and a strike of lightning conspire, your view of Joel illuminating his gorgeous face in a white-silver flash.

The tight coils inside you snap free, a broken moan of his name being the last thing you remember saying before white stars filled your vision. Your hold on Joel loosens as your orgasm crashes through you ungracefully, making you twitch and rut your hips below him.

His fingers and his thrusts don’t stop. He rides out your orgasm, following suit until he flushes his hips against yours and lets out a heavenly groan of your name. You’re still under him, vision blurry and hearing fuzzy. He finds solace in the crook of your neck, nuzzling a home for himself in the space and losing himself deep inside you.

His body shudders lightly as he finishes, spilling white streams into you for who knows how long. Your hand is gently stroking the hair at the back of his head, fingers combing through dark curls as he breathes hot air against your neck.

You both slowly blink back to life. He’s complimenting you, but you’re too blissed out to hear the details.

So good, baby… Such a pretty fuckin’ girl... So lucky.

Joel tuts softly as he attempts to free his softened length, but you whine and tighten your legs around his hips to keep him stationary.

Your eyelashes flutter as you feel gentle kisses by the corners of your eyes, tiredly smiling as you open them before slowly sitting up onto your elbows. Joel takes the opportunity to pull out and yank his boxers and jeans back into place, securing his belt last.

He still keeps his shirt unbuttoned for you, partially because you have a hold on a random corner to keep it so.

With the absence of your pants hotboxing the truck, you slip back into your dress with a light shudder. You reach past Joel’s leg to retrieve your panties and pull them up your stems to keep his spillage to a minimum.

“Good?” He asks, a smile slowly growing on your lips. He looked so fucked out. You both probably did. You attempt to fix Joel’s hair, and he takes his thumb to swipe away the saliva trail on your chin.

“Good.” You agree. Quiet and sapped, but good.

You force Joel to play a few games of tic-tac-toe on the foggy glass before the storms lighten up, and you can actually see more than a few feet in front of the road.

You’re picking at the skin around your nails the entire drive home. So many questions compile in your worn-out brain.

What if your parents noticed you were gone? What if they were awake, waiting for you by the kitchen window, and they see you slip out of Joel’s truck? Try explaining yourself after that one.

As Joel pulls into his driveway, you observe the lake house is still dark and silent. Empty but also not. Joel’s warm palm is on your leg. It draws your attention away from the window, focusing just on him.

“Joel?”

“Hm?”

You shift your jaw before you lay your head back against the headrest, gentle pitter patters of the last rain cloud splashing on the window.

“What do you do when you’re not working? Like on that Saturday when I talked to you at your truck.”

He musters up a half-mouth smirk. “Didn’t do much talkin’ that I recall.”

You roll your eyes and slam a closed fist against his shoulder. It barely rocks his arm, let alone his body. “M’serious.”

He lets out a long sigh and looks out the windshield. “I do stuff around town or- for the town.”

He’s so hard to push details out of. He’s like a jammed stapler.

“Go on. So, like, volunteering?”

Joel rolls his eyes and shrugs. “S’not really like that.”

“That’s what it sounds like.”

He doesn’t say anything, just sort of starts smiling. “Just like keeping myself busy. But now I have you on my plate.” He teased. Your chest felt warm, knowing he kept a place for you in his hectic life.

“What sort of stuff are you working on right now?”

He takes a long, deep breath through his nose. You can hear it whistle before he lets it all out of his mouth, followed by clearing his throat.

“Y’know that old church past that big field on the east side of Danbury?”

You mindlessly shake your head and shrug.

“When I was a kid, I used t’go to that church-”

“For God?” You can’t help but blurt it out in shock.

He narrows his eyes on you and smirks.

“M’not exactly the Godly type.” You look over his chiseled jawline and beautiful, robust features. You’d have to disagree. He looked like one of God’s favorites.

“So.. why are you trying to fix an old church?”

Joel slowly smiles, eyes mindlessly on the dashboard of his truck before he answers. “I have a thing for the broken, used, and abandoned.”

Your head cocks to the side, and you give him a look, pressing him for an honest answer. Or maybe it was an honest answer, and you’re just looking for a better answer.

He shuffles around in his seat before he continues, hand still aimlessly circling on your thigh. “It wasn’t operable when I was a kid, just rundown, abandoned. There used to be a stained glass mural on the-uh... east-facing wall. So when the sun came up through it, the whole place just- lit up.” He pauses and shifts his focus to you.

“Now, y’know, it’s fallin’ apart. Dumb kids throwin’ rocks at it and chipping away the glass, age makin’ it all dust-covered.” Joel shrugs and falls back into his closed pit of secrecy.

“So… you’re fixing up the town.”

A pause. “More or less.”

“You know how to make a stained glass mural?”

He shakes his head and purses his lips. “No. But I can figure it out.”

You twist your lips and slowly climb over his lap once more. His eyes watch you curiously while his hands settle on your hips. You cup either side of his neck, fingertips lightly brushing up against messy curls.

“Can I see this mural you’re working on?”

He takes a long time to answer. So much dead silence fills the truck you start to feel a bit awkward about asking, like maybe it was too far.

“Please.” You ask or tell rather. You kiss his lips lightly to try and sway his pending decision. “I won’t judge, I think it’s cool.”

“Cool?” He instantly chirps, cocking an eyebrow up at you.

“I didn’t say you were cool-”

“You most certainly did.”

You’re shaking your head, and his pointer finger is prodding into your side to get under your skin. “I said that it’s cool. The stained glass stuff, that is what is cool.”

He’s already sneering at you. “Whatever you say, princess.” You can feel your cheeks singe with heat. Your hand anxiously scrabbles for the door handle, letting the rusty door creak open for your exit.

Sneakers scrape gravel after you climb out of Joel’s lap, his boots landing suit.

He smoothes a hand down your dress, your eyes watch before you face him.

“You gonna be alright?” Joel's face is laced with slight concern, his head cocking past you and looking to the house.

You shrug and shake your head. “Yeah. We’ve had this fight before, and we’ll have it again.”

He doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer. He’s teetering on his heels as a stray raindrop lands on your cheek.

“You can..” He trails off as his thumb comes up and brushes away the droplet, hand lingering before he cups your cheek. “Y’know, can always stay with us if you need a break. M’sure Sarah would love the company.” And so would he.

Your eyes soften, the gesture warm and safe. You couldn’t even imagine the trouble you’d stir up at Joel’s house. Sure, you could occupy yourself with Sarah when she returned from camping, but what would you and Joel do? Well, besides the obvious…

Your lips curl into a tight smile, not wanting him to reel in his invite out of pure bashfulness.

“Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.” Your eyes are on his until he sighs, his shoulders reset into that of a broad lumberjack once more. His eyes looked like they were scheming. It’s fast, like a flash, and before you know it, the look is gone.

“Take care of yourself.” He leans down and plants a kiss on the crown of your head, thumb skimming up the line of your cheekbone. Suddenly, your heart is racing again.

You cup his cheeks and pull him down for a real goodbye kiss, two sets of pouted lips against one another, unwilling to let go until you have to.

---

“What are you doing after work?” You’re on a call with Joel, phone pressed between your ear and hunched shoulder.

“What are you wearing right now?” He taunts, voice crackling in and out of connection since he was currently working at a house out of town.

“Ha.” You deadpan, closing the sliding glass door behind you as you step back into the empty lake house, skin sweltering from being in the sun for the better half of the afternoon reading on the dock. “No, really, I could use your help.”

The phone volume shrills in your ear as you hear an electric saw roar to life, Joel cursing repeatedly as he walks away from all the noise. “Jesus fuckin-.. so damn lou- Can you hear me better?”

Once the saw dulled, you put the phone back to your ear. “Yeah.”

“What do you need help with?” His voice sounds a little preoccupied like he’s trying to focus on you, but he’s got a million things running through his head.

“My window.” You say with a frown, stepping into your bedroom and cursing at the sight of it. “Won’t open. Maybe you can crack it open with some of your handy dandy tools.”

You smile as he musters up a little laugh at your hardware knowledge or lack thereof. “I don’t know about today, baby.”

“You are the property maintenance guy for our lakehouse now, right? You have a duty to help me.” You tease, stepping back outside with a fresh bottle of water and an apple. Your teeth pierce the skin, and the apple’s juices gush past your lips.

“Jesus, fine. I’ll be over. I’m almost done.”

You purse your lips to hide your smirk. God, he can’t even see you, but you don’t want him to know he’s got you flustered.

“Parents are running errands today... If that’s extra incentive for you to hurry up.”

Joel pauses on the other end. He’s probably got that stupid smirk on his face. “In that case, I’ll leave now.”

“I knew you’d see things my way. Thank youuu.” You playfully coo.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.

An hour later, Joel’s outside your window while you assist from the inside. His face is twisted in concentration, eyes narrowed on a misaligned hinge that he works free with a screwdriver, realigns, then screws tight into its proper place.

He looks stupid hot so focused like this. Tanned skin, hair a little dusty from work. The veins in his forearm were bulging as he uses pressure to keep the hinge in place. You had to blink a few times to keep yourself from staring. He feels it.

“Can I help you?” His voice was thick and echoing since he was speaking to you between a glass pane.

You bite back a smirk and shake your head.

He pulls off the hinge and nods, pats it a few times before looking at you and giving you a thumbs up.

You decide to let him come inside before you open the window yourself, twisting at the string of your bikini bottom as you wait. He took in your appearance as soon as he parked in the driveway.

“What?”

“...Nothin’. Like the outfit.”

“Joel, I was sunbathing. And reading. It wasn’t an intended distraction.” It was.

“Mhm.”

Joel appears at the entrance of your bedroom. You silently curse yourself for not updating it more. It still looked like a sixteen-year-old fangirl lived in it.

He appreciates the posters and magazines, checking his handiwork at the window.

“Wanna give it a go? Open it?”

You eagerly smile and step up to the window, playfully tugging on it and heaving.

“I-.. It’s still stuck.” You say with a frown. “Joel, you said you fixed it.”

“What? Shouldn’t be-” He’s already got his hands on the frame and tugs, feeling it easily slip up and open. You’re giggling as his face deadpans.

“You think you’re so funny.” He taunts, his body turning towards you as he chucks his tools haphazardly on your bed. You’re already attempting to take leaps and bounds away from Joel, but his arms are long, and so are his strides.

His rough hands capture you by your waist, dusty and calloused fingers ghosting over your warm skin.

Joel’s lips eagerly greet yours, both of you grinning into the kiss. It’s slow as you let it envelop you. Your heart races. He’s not supposed to be here, your parents could come home any time now.

You bite down on your lower lip, feeling butterflies in your stomach as he backs you up against your wall, foreheads gently pressed together. His eyes flick behind you, and your head follows his gaze.

“Boybands, huh?”

You roll your eyes and smirk, fingers moving to the button of his jeans.

“Shut up, Joel. Leave the boybands out of it.”

A car door slamming catches both of your attention. Heads whip on instinct, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Your parents are home, and Joel’s half-hard in your palm.

“Oh, shit.” You curse.

Joel’s already moving, grabbing his tools off your bed, and adjusting his jeans. “Lemme handle it.” Your heart pounds as you and Joel greet your parents at the door. They walk in with fresh shopping bags. A cheesy sign for the living room sticks out from one of them.

“Joel?” They both ask in unison, looking between the man beside you and you in your bikini. Your mother’s face lightly flushes.

“Hey, Joel! Good to see ya!” Your father sets the bags on the table and grabs a beer from the fridge. You shift on your feet and just let Joel lead.

Your dad’s oblivious, your mother is more curious

“What are you... What are you doing here?” She tries to ask casually with a little smile.

Joel raises his screwdriver, strategically keeping the toolbag in front of his lower half. You try not to smirk.

“Was fixin’ your daughter’s jammed window.”

Your mother's face softens before she smiles. “Y’know, that thing has been jammed for… years. Thank you.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile and nod. “Yes. Thank you, Mr. Miller.” The light glare he sends you means you’ll pay for that one later. Joel clears his throat and nods, too. He turns to you now, and you share a look.

“Just… let me know if it happens again. Might need to replace the hinge entirely. Small piece of it could be broken, might be why it keeps slippin’ out of place.”

“Yeah. For sure. Thanks.”

You walk past your mother and open the door from him, but he still stands between your parents. What the hell is he doing?

“While I have you both, I was just tellin’ your daughter ‘bout a business trip I have comin’ up.” Huh? “ It’s not for Miller Contracting. It’s more for the town. I’m gettin’ materials for the old church-”

“Oh, the one with the broken stained glass mural on the east side of town?” Your mother chirps in. “We just drove past it. Just saying how someone needs to fix it up.” Joel’s lightly nodding to your mother’s words, her face soft as she listens to him with curiosity.

“Well, I was tellin’ her about it ‘cause I could use some help getting materials from a supplier in Houston. I’d normally ask Sarah to tag along and help, but she said she’s got some graduation parties next weekend that she doesn’t wanna miss. Would it be alright if-”

“Oh, of course! Yes, please, if you need her help and she wants to go, she’s all yours.”

Your eyes are wide, trying not to seem too shocked by Joel secretly sweeping you out from under your parents without them even noticing.

Joel turns to you, eyebrow cocked. “That okay with you? Next weekend. Friday to Sunday sort’f thing.”

A whole weekend alone with Joel? Your insides are bursting, but you have to seem apathetic.

“Mhm. Sure.”

Joel sneaks you a private smile. “Really appreciate it. Ya’ll have a good rest of your evenin’.” And with that, he’s out the front door.

You couldn’t believe what just happened.

You try to act casual before you make it off to your room, but your mother’s voice pulls you to a halt.

“Ah-ah, not so fast. Back it up.”

You quietly sigh before coming back to the main part of the kitchen. She narrows her eyes on you and lightly crosses her arms. Your fight with her from yesterday is still fresh, and it makes holding prolonged eye contact difficult.

“Are you seeing a boy?”

Your eyes widen on instinct. Your dad pauses the sip of his beer and watches you carefully. You try to hold together a poker face as best as you can, but you’re worried your shock is already seeping through.

“Wha- A boy? Why would you think that?” The laugh you force out sounds too fake. And you’re a terrible liar. You feel so hot all of a sudden. You wished Joel was still here to talk you in and out of shit. It was a skill of his you’d surely have to learn.

“Well, we heard the door close really late last night after you walked Joel out. We were just wondering if... You know, there’s a special someone that you’re seeing.” Of course, she hoped you would tie yourself down to someone in Texas.

“Yeah, did a boy pick you up after dinner or somethin’?” Your father presses, eyes narrowing protectively over you. “You seein’ a boy or not, honey?”

You didn’t want to lie, but you certainly weren’t ready to tell them the truth about you and Joel.

“Uhm.” Your brain scrabbles for an answer and ultimately chooses poorly. “Sorta. I don’t know. Kind of?”

Your mother tightens her lips in a smile and nods a little. “We’ll let it go for now, but-”

“God- Mom, please.” You groan and put your face in your hands, closing your eyes and wishing this nightmare was over.

“But,” she annoyingly emphasizes, “If it gets serious, we want to meet this young man.” She says with a firm nod before turning back to your father and putting away the items in their shopping bags.

Meet him? They want to meet the boy you’re seeing? What will they do when they find out the boy is actually a full-grown man, a forty-something-year-old with a teenage daughter? And that man was not only their friend and neighbor but Joel fucking Miller. Fuck. Your luck was running out.

---

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nyxi-pixie · 3 months ago

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Hiiiii.

Sorry to bother you, I wanted to know if you had any fic recs? Your writing is so good and your tastes are immaculate, and I am starving for any kind of good content. Please?

its not possible to bother me love dw <3

NOW. i dont actually read all that much anymore bc i am horrendously picky but this does give me an excuse to hype up the few authors that have satisfied my unreasonably specific tastes 🤩.

so. a few bsd recs for you (except theyre 99% skk because im horribly predictable forever). everyone go read all of these and tell the authors how wonderful they are in the comments please <3

anything @booksandpaperss has ever written is genius work and everyone should read it. could talk abt all of their stuff for hours (and i have🤩 they put up w so much of me bothering them godbless). also our brains do some accidental crazy mind melding shit whenever either of us write fic so if you like any of my stuff you will like theirs. thats the rules. <3

like twin stars in the dark (we collide)- dead apple skk porn as a vehicle for 22skk analysis. makes me salivate i have read it so many times. they get 22skk better than anyone🙏

my lies are for you to keep (my love for you to lose) - the only take on beastskk that matters to me ever. you can actually see me losing my mind in the comment i wrote on this fic bc of how fucking insane every single line made me. theres SO much packed into this thing its fucking crazy i NEEEEED everyone to read it. thats all <3

till death, I'll give you my breath - dazai death timeloop. this fic terrifies me so much i await every update with my teeth chattering and my heart pulsing so rapidly i should be hospitalised. the first scene of chapter 2 genuinely had me on the verge of tears im unwell about it.

(elli also has some jjk stuff thats REALLYREALLY good and if ur into jjk u should check that out too.)

NOW. aside from being a propaganda machine for my fav writer ever. Heres some other stuff i love.

the second perspective by @wildflowerteas. murder mystery/detective noir stuff w some time fuckery. the au of all time. mashes aspects of beast, canon, and some extra special niko sauce into a mixing bowl and goes crazy w it. just Such a genuinely impressive piece of writing. i could talk abt the technical brilliance of it for hours but i will stop myself. you gotta commit to this thing because it WILL make u crazy. also i loveee the sskk. its like if we had the beast first meeting sskk forever. SOSO GOOD!!!!

did fate guide the gun or did you? by @kanetheo. i read this pretty soon after chapter 109 and it genuinely fried my brain for months. the writing style is beautiful (as for everything they write AUGHH!!!) and the angst is delectable. the way it intersperses more fun silly skk moments with just. complete misery. GOD. it just hits. ive reread it quite a few times and it never fails to make me go crazy. srsly cannot rec this enough.

the decomposition of dazai osamu by @hella1975 this shot several bullets through my brain and i still havent recovered. i keep thinking 'oh i should reread that' and then i dont bc some part of my brain still concerns itself w maintaining whats left of my sanity. BUT its crazy good and everyone should read it and suffer at least once. EVERYONE LOVES YOU OSAMU!!!! EVERYONE EATS YOU!!! line of all time lets all kill ourselves.

smoke held conversations by feralrookie - i havent reread this in a while but it does cool stuff with nlh and the skkisms are really good in this too. ppl often write teen chuuya as less intelligent than he actually is. hes very observant, esp of dazai, and this fic gave me that 🙏

i called your name til the fever broke by forest_raccoon - vampire chuuya. biting is involved. i blacked out reading it. enough said.

#most of my motivation to write is bc there isnt enough of what i want to read bc im cursed w being the most picky fic reader ever #but this stuff is all sooo good and everyone should read it #ALSO anonnnn<33 im glad u like my writing teehee🥰#asks #soukoku #soukoku fanfiction #skk fanfic #bsd fic recs

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anamelessfool · 16 days ago

Text

A Naming (part 2 of 5)

Rated Teen, Papa Emeritus II’s Son and Family

Tags: Halloween Hijinks, Eldest Kid Anxiety, Suburban Dad Secondo, Disabled Secondo, Post-Retirement Life, Magic Rituals, My AU with Seocondo being Papa from 2001-2008

CW: Underage Drinking

Paul is at the party. He gets a little too over his head. And he can't completely blame the punch.

Dedicated to @kissingghouls thanks for cheering me on you’re my little Hell Pumpkin🎃 I’m on AO3 with all my other fics but Tumblr gets mad at me when I post links check out #anamelessfool halloween tag for the prev chapter

The first thing Paul noticed when he approached the house party was that he was the only person not in costume. Even the most leather-necked of linebackers attempted something with a Ghostface mask perched on their heads. Everyone around him looked big, capable. He distracted his nerves by typing in his phone.

Paul L: I'm here

Dana: 🙂

Music thudded softly from within as he climbed the stairs. If he didn’t look to either his left or right he could pretend that he was confident about his choice of no costume. Yes, it was some sort of defiant, anti-establishment sort of thing. But they had just witnessed him exit a car driven by his father and piled high with little kids and their sugar-fueled screams, so perhaps the rebel act wasn’t very convincing.

Dana waved from the front door, ushering him in. He darted in like he was escaping some oncoming storm, and she the only chance at rescue. Inside the fairly large house was packed with most of the upperclassmen shouting over some punk rock cover of Monster Mash. “Hey, so happy you’re here.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” he replied, and at once he slowly removed his hands from his hoodie pockets.

“A freshman… You invited a fucking freshman?” Right. Dana wasn’t the only person here. A sour looking boy tossed the hair from his head, his mouth a thin line.

“Relax, he's cool,” said Dana with a small smile. Paul felt a warmth flood his entire body. “He’s most of the orchestra pit.” Dana was the lead role for the fall play. And midway through Act II he could get a clear view of her singing at the front of the stage. She was just as beautiful now, all dolled up in some kind of half-hearted witch getup that gave her the excuse to have glittering goth makeup.

“Yeah well what do you play then?” Asked the older boy.

The better question was what Paul didn't play. His father was a prodigy on piano but dabbled elsewhere. Paul took after his grandfather Nihil, who somehow despite his foggy brain took to every instrument like a duck to water. “Guitar, bass guitar, piano,” Paul listed and his confidence started to crawl back. “All percussion. Some violin. Trumpet. I'm learning saxophone because Mr. Baxter needs one for the Spring show. And…that's it. So far.”

“Wow, no wonder you’re a shut in,” quipped the boy before melting back into the crowd.

“Asshole!” Dana jokingly swatted at him as he left, then turned back to Paul with a wince. “Sorry. Hey. Make yourself at home. Go get some punch, okay?”

“No, he’s right I’m…not really out there…”

“First time for everything, right?” Dana held out her hand and he took it, deciding he’d be okay with dying right then and there. He floated along beside her as she led him to the punch bowl and ladled him a glass. “Just have fun, Paul.”

Yes. He was going to have fun. He didn’t dare want to let her down, and that fifteen foot walk from the foyer to the dining room was one of the greatest things that had ever happened to him. Partygoers wandered in and out around him but their voices were muffled from the pounding in his ears. The music felt miles away, at the bottom of a lake. At last he recognized someone coming towards him, an older kid named Brian who he spent most of his time with in the orchestra pit.

“Yo! You came!” Brian grinned. “No costume?”

“No time.”

“That’s cool. Hey… you want a little…excitement…” Brian whipped out a flask from his jacket, leering.

“I mean um…” Maybe it would do something with his nerves. And he didn't want to spend the rest of his life known as the fucking freshman invited out of pity. He was cool. Talented. Able to hold his liquor. He was supposed to have fun: Dana’s orders. “Um, sure.”

He tipped the punch down his throat, perhaps a little too fast. There was very little burn at all to scold him. As Brian kept talking to him, his mind kept floating away. He squeezed his eyes shut, leaned against the wall but nodded all the same like nothing was the matter. A stupid smile began to creep across his face as Ben talked and kept introducing him to the girls that wandered by. How may Poison Ivy costumes were there? At least five. Or was he meeting the same girl over and over? The red cup creaked in his hand as he held it like some sort of safety rope.

“Since dawn of time the fate of man is that of lice…” His father's voice unmistakably seethed out from the playlist. Paul looked desperately for the exit but the windows and doors swam unsteadily in front of him.

“What, you scared?” asked another girl dressed as Poison Ivy. Yes, he had seen at least three others in the past hour. “It's Ghost, you ever heard of them? You like metal?”

“HELL SATAN! ARCHANGELOOOO!”

“Yeah a little bit,” Paul said. “I don't think they're real metal.”

“His name’s Secondo, actually,” explained the kid who had attached the aux to his phone. “Yeah, he's out. His brother is in. They say now he's a…hey man what’s up with you?”

“Yeah, I know him,” Paul slurred with a slight giggle. “That's my uncle. Haven't seen him much, though.”

The kid peered suspiciously into Paul. “You…know them?”

Paul flashed a fuzzy smile and moments after speaking he wished everything was a dream. “Yeah. The guy singing. He's my dad.”

“What?” yelled the kid, and more party guests wandered over. “What, he's your dad?!”

“He uh…got sick. Retired.”

“He will ascend to the heavens! Above the stars of God! Hell Satan!”

A few phones whipped out from pockets and Paul watched in growing horror how every one of these upperclassmen started typing into search engines. A boy held out his phone and Papa Emeritus II glared out at them all. “This? This…is your dad?”

Paul smiled painfully. He decided never to drink ever again. “Yeah.”

“Yeah, I've seen him around! Holy shit!” A girl laughed and flashed another photo for them all to see: A photo of his father in shades, flanked by two women dressed as sexy nuns. “Is one of these girls your mom?”

“And he like, chops up dead bodies now,” said another kid. “You got dead grandmas in your freezer yeah?”

“Well, uh, my dad doesn't chop up the bodies, that's my mom’s job—” This was going nowhere, but the spiked punch made Paul plod on. “Yeah there's um a big difference between mortician and funeral director ya know my dad sorta just handles the documents….for the state….” He ended his statement with a careful sip.

“Holy shit this kid is a fucking riot.”

More partiers began surrounding him, and through his dizziness he was completely certain they were there to laugh at him. Voices swam in and out.

“Who’s that? Oh yeah, the gravedigger kid…”

“Wait, have you seen the music video? And your Dad was in that? Dude there were naked chicks in that video dude!”

“Yeah, uh…I guess…yeah…” Paul was ready to die. He waited for some holy lightning bolt to come down from on high, but if anyone noticed that his own mother was also featured in that video he would do the job himself.

The Aux kid was fully grinning. “That’s amazing dude, amazing, he’s literally Satan, dude—“

“He’s sorta boring, actually,” Paul threw in. His solo cup was thoroughly demolished. The sugar mixing with the alcohol was making his stomach turn. Perhaps vomiting would deflect all of this attention to the more ordinary embarrassment of destroying someone’s living room carpet.

“That means he knows spells.” Dana emerged from the shadows, flanked by some equally attractive friends. Her black lips pursed as her heavily-shadowed eyes gleamed. “If he's the devil he knows spells, right?”

“It's not real,” stammered Paul. Her gaze made him weak. “Well…it's…sorta real…”

“Real? It's all fucking real, no way! Have you seen him do spells?!”

Every morning, an odd musical chant. Every evening, another droning mantra. The man would not shut up about the weather and piles of his journals were scattered around the house. No flicks of wands or fairy dust or leaping demons. No fireballs or bursts of healing light. Just the sound of his father droning syllables and a disgusting collection of animal skulls and jars filled with rusted nails and weird smells. “Yeah, I guess…” And of course, Paul would not shut up. He could not, with how everyone was paying attention to him. He had to get out of this. And the only way out was through. “I can do them too, you know.”

***

Sandra was snuggled up on the couch with the on-call phone when Paul returned.

“How was it? So happy you went.” On the television two men chained in a filthy bathroom argued and came to the realization that yes, one of them would have to amputate.

“It was alright. Any…calls?”

“No, just little ol’ me alone,” Sandra replied, sitting up. “And Ed checking in to tell me the guys brought all the kid cousins out for a late dinner.” She rubbed her eyes, refocusing on the men screaming on the television. “The sequels didn’t compare to this one. Gratuitous. Real fear is all just head games, ya know? It’s all just…in the mind.”

“Yeah well, good night then.” Paul hugged her then walked down the hallway, glancing quickly back as he passed the door to his room and silently slipped into the office.

Secondo always kept a lamp softly illuminated in the corner. Paul moved soundlessly across the beige carpet to arrive at the TV hutch. His fingers trembled as he gently untangled the red ribbon across the knobs. Secondo was miles away surrounded by screaming children in a busy pizza place but still Paul was certain he’d hear the smallest disturbance. Maybe not his flesh and blood father but the Eye would.

The hutch opened and light shone across the crystal skull in its nest of dead flowers. The strong scent of frankincense and charcoal wafted across him, fleeing into the air like a freed spirit. In Paul’s heightened mind everything inside seemed much more foreign and terrifying than usual. Some sort of large, milk-white snake floated in a jar in the far back. There were stacks of rocks, rose petals in a stone urn before bundles of feathers arranged in a bouquet. A few mummified hawk claws hung on a string. Daggers were arranged like surgical instruments on top of a rabbit skin. A series of small journals were crammed where a VCR should go. And buried deep within, the golden goat head of Baphomet peered from behind a collection of railroad spikes, their arm raised as if scolding him for daring to do all this.

The topic of the admonishment was not necessarily betraying his father’s trust. The deepest shame the statue bestowed on Paul as he rummaged around it was the fact that all of this trespassing was done in the name of impressing some mortals the boy decided was worth the cost.

Paul knew his father barely worked with every material in his collection, but he had to make a good impression. His new friends wanted to see some magic, so a decent show of arcane wisdom was essential. He chose a thin deer’s tibia as his wand. An oddly shaped chunk of rainbow obsidian would make a decent centerpiece. He collected some chalk into his hoodie pockets along with a few dried rose petals and a black candle.

Now for the book. Paul was so distracted with worrying about his plan that he hadn’t really sat down and considered exactly what kind of magic he’d actually want to do. There were too many books on the shelves for him to skim through in the small scrap of time he had before his mother checked on him. He struggled to unwedge one of his father’s journals from the VCR shelf, and at last he had a sample of what he actually could do.

The front of the journal was dated: Oct 1999- March 2000. Inside was a mishmash of charts, sketches and the impeccable script handwriting of Secondo himself. Beautiful, but incomprehensible. Long strings of text were arranged in lattices, grids, and atop each other in a flurry of swirling ink. Some pages were perfectly mirrored, others held odd anagram symbols and ciphers.

All In all beautiful, but worthless.

There was not a whole lot of time. Dave was waiting down the street with everyone in the car and he had to think fast. Paul knew that luck and destiny were huge components to magic rituals so perhaps the book he picked out was the one that he needed to use. He’ll figure out which page later. He tucked the journal into his back jeans pocket and closed the hutch, carefully retying the red ribbon to the best of his memory. He turned to go and his father’s framed diploma fell off its nail and onto the floor.

Paul sucked in a breath. Nothing in here was an accident. Everything had magical Significance. He picked up the frame, staring past the large crack on the glass: …conferred upon MICHAEL LEIDER The degree of MORTUARY SCIENCE AND FUNERAL SERVICES. Paul returned it to its nail, apologizing to the piece of paper before sneaking out the room once more.

After climbing out his bedroom window Paul met up with the car of kids waiting for him. They squeezed him in the back between the door and an athletic junior boy, who leered at him as Paul attempted to get on his seatbelt. It was Dana’s warm smile from the passenger’s front seat that finally calmed his nerves.

“I thought you lived at the funeral home,” A boy stuffed in the opposite corner of the backseat called across the car.

The car lurched forward and Paul gave up on finding the seatbelt buckle. “Nobody lives there, my mom’s family owns the place.”

“So like, you ever see a ghost there?” The boy beside him had eager bright eyes but his breath absolutely stank.

“Well, everyone there is dead so like their soul’s moved on somewhere else so there really wouldn’t be any… y’know, ghosts—“

“Come on,” chided a kid from the hatchback trunk. He reached out and grabbed Paul by the shoulders, the other boy beside him hooting.

“Fine, yeah, I did see a ghost.” Paul’s voice was terse as he stared hard at the road. He had been mostly sober for an hour now, psychically punching himself for ever getting involved in a caper this stupid. Too late now. “It was…some old woman. By the freezers. She had old time clothes on.”

The reverent awe that descended on the kids in the car would have made a past version of himself swell with pride. But now he just felt sick.

A little too sick.

Like it? Reblog it! Thank you!

Next chapter is in comments!

#ghost band fic #domestic fic #halloween fic #papa emeritus ii #dad secondo #ghost scenes from the void #my art #anamelessfool halloween

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seedsofagony · 27 days ago

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Sleepover (KnY ♡ Tengen)

Cherrytober Day 18: Can't Sleep // Sex Toys

Series: Kimetsu no Yaiba

Characters: Uzui Tengen

Word Count: 784

Summary: modern au, x reader (f), sleeping over, insomnia, sex toys, spit as lube, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, no pregnancy

Notes: Tengen snores, I don't make the rules (yes, I do) ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Disclaimer: Underage, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked. For everyone 18+, FUB free or filter my unique tag for this event: #sweets🍒24

You check your phone for what feels like the tenth time—2:59 a.m. How is that even possible? The last time you checked, it was like, 2:43. Wasn't that, like, an hour ago?

Groaning, you glance over at Tengen. He's sound asleep, lips gently parted, making the very softest of snores. He was out like a light basically the second his head hit the pillow, and honestly? It's kind of unfair.

You always have trouble sleeping at his place. You love spending the night and you should be exhausted from the evening's activities, but this isn't your pillow, his fan doesn't blow at the exact same speed and pitch as yours, and just, ugh.

Fine, then—if sleep won't come to you, you'll cum to sleep. You reach for the nightstand drawer and slide it open. Groping blindly, your hand closes around your trusty bullet vibe. Unlike the pillow and fan, this is the same one you have at home. Nothing fancy, but it gets the job done. You squeeze the on button and the little toy buzzes to life.

Frantically, you try to switch it off—why is it so fucking loud?! Flustered, you punch through the settings, trying to turn it off, the motor humming louder and louder till it sounds like a swarm of angry bees in the relative silence of the bedroom.

Tengen rolls over and looks at you, eyes bleary. "What are you doing…"

"Sorry, sorry!" you whisper-scream. "I didn't think it would be so loud!"

He stares at you a moment longer, watching as you finally turn the vibe off, only to turn it on again with your wild button-mashing. He sighs and plucks it out of your hands.

"No," Tengen says, working through the settings, finally stopping on the lowest setting. "I mean, you don't have to do it yourself."

He sits up, yawning, and pats his knee. "C'mere. Can't sleep?"

You hesitate. It's hours before your alarm is set to go off and you both have work in the morning, but… if he's up, he's up, right? You crawl into his lap, snuggling your back against his chest. Tengen leans his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you. Flipping up the hem of your pajamas—actually just one of his shirts—he sticks out his tongue and runs the vibe over it before pressing it between your legs.

The vibration hits you like a jolt—it's admittedly a bit much with no prep, but it's not long before you savor the sensation. You lean your cheek against his, nuzzling him as he works the toy around your bud.

"Like that?" he asks.

"Little bit more…"

Tengen pushes the button, turning up the vibe to a higher setting. You hum, twisting the sheets in your fingers. The fizzy little toy is no match for him, of course—his fingers, his lips, his tongue!—but it's not bad either. In fact, right now, in Tengen's hands, it's really not bad at all. The added intensity, the insistent drive of the motor, applied with his knowing touch…

"You're not gonna cum already, are you?" he teases. Even as he asks, he's pressing the button again and pushing the buzzing tip of the toy directly against your clit.

The vibrations are almost too much to bear, but if this is his idea of payback for waking him, you'll gladly take the abuse. Your focus narrows to the tip of the vibe, the rising pressure in your core. A shudder wracks your body as you cum, torn between waves of pleasure and the merciless buzzing of the vibe. Tengen holds it to you a moment longer, enjoying the way you squirm in his arms before finally taking it away.

"That help?" he asks, stretching.

Heady from the toy, core still spasming intermittently, you can only hum, "Mm-hm…"

"Good." Tengen leans back against the headboard. "Except now, I'm wide awake."

You turn, looking at him over your shoulder. "Do you wanna…?"

Because why not? If you're both going to be tired in the morning, you might as well make the most of it. And, clearly, Tengen is of the same mind—even in the darkness, you can make out the flash of his grin. He gives you a gentle push forward, tipping you onto your hands and knees. Reaching around, he holds the bullet to your between your legs.

"Hold this for me, okay, princess?"

You close your hand around his, whimpering at the vibrations coursing through your still-sensitive bud. You feel his tip at your entrance, and he sinks in balls-deep, your slit stretching to swallow him up.

"If this doesn't tire you out, I don't know what will," he purrs, bucking his hips.

#cherrytober2024 #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #uzui tengen #kny uzui #kny tengen #uzui tengen x reader #kny smut #spoiler free #sweets stories #sweets🍒24

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ouiouimochi · 4 months ago

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Part 3 of the abyss x reader I wrote

sorry for the hiatus, was caught up in personal and academic things. I'm here now >:))

Part 1 - Part 2

warning : mentions of injuries and wounds, cell war slander, use of honorifics for better expressions of relationships between charas

the fight scene might get too long, more abyss x reader moment at the end

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

synopsis: abyss (and the others) gets saved (?) and a reunion matching the eccentricity of the first meeting

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

who would've known first year students would be capable of handling members of magia lupus just like that?

abyss, having chosen to fight mash instead of the other juniors, was surprised that he got defeated by a lack-magic but he wasn't much affected by that defeat as much as he thought he would

even abel was defeated by the same lack-magic

what took all of them off guard was the unexpected appearance of one of innocent zero’s minions

Another barrage of attacks made from carbon rained upon the beat up group of students, Mash being able to defend but getting wounded in the process. Everyone knew they couldn't just keep on defending with Abyss sustaining a serious injury and Abel preoccupied with tasks on protecting Abyss and helping mash defend.

Things were looking a bit grim. It didn't help that a suspicious portal suddenly opened up on the ceiling as a figure fell through.

It was a pretty long drop from the ceiling to the floor. Everyone was surprised at the appearance of a new person— the group of students, Cell War, and even the person themselves it seems.

With a short yelp, the figure fell and ungraciously landed on the cobblestone floor. A groan of pain was heard as everyone only watched the figure — a female— cradle the spot she fell on.

Noticing that there were eyes watching you, you immediately stood up and dusted yourself off, coughing into your hand in the process.

“I'm not interrupting anything, am I?” You cheekily asked while scratching your cheek with a finger.

Everyone deadpans but Abyss is struck with awe. Memories of meeting the eccentric lady rushed into his mind and his ears start ringing as all else became faint sounds.

Mash answers you with familiarity, “(y/n)-senpai, what are you doing here?”

You shrug, taking on a thinking pose, then facing the group.

“I got curious since I felt a huge surge of magic here. Didn't expect an edgelord to be here.”

Cell war snapped out of the stunned state at that, immediately sending an attack towards your turned back. A portal appears, the continuous attack being endlessly taken in.

As the carbo attack ended, the portal disappeared as well. You put a hand on your hip, twirling around, then tutting at the edgy looking man(?).

“Well, aren't you just rude?” You sighed.

The other students were only wordlessly watching as Cell sent another attack towards you. You did the same counterattack.

“Hey, is this the only attack you have? I don't think I wanna keep on doing the exact same thing repeatedly.” Your tone dripped with boredom.

Cell sent a different spell, this time an intimidatingly large piece manifested before being launched in your direction— only to be still eaten up by another one of your portals.

“That’s your third strike, now it's my turn” You said while brandishing your wand in preparation to go on the offensive.

Multiple portals opened up at once behind you, the spells Cell sent earlier being launched back at him all at once. But before it can directly land on him, the whole attack bounced back towards you.

You got caught a bit off guard but thankfully pulled up a big portal in time to eat up the reflected attack.

It was basically like playing uno with the back and forth reverse cards being placed.

As the portal disappeared, you immediately called the enemy out.

“Hey, isn't that unfair?!”

Everyone else thought how incredulous the statement was especially when you were the first one to send the blonde’s spells back at him.

The man only laughed, carrying a mirror around the size of his torso. He then went on a monologue of how it was a mirror that can deflect any magic hurled at it.

“It's futile to keep on struggling like useless ants!”

You stare up at the man blankly before fully turning around and walking to where the group of wounded students were.

“Hey kid,” You call out to Mash.

“You’re only two years older.”

“Nevermind that, are you going to help me or what?”

Cell sends another flurry of carbo rain at them, your portals consuming them again.

“I didn't want to steal your spotlight.” The ravennete responded back

“I think that's enough screen time for me, though?”

“Alright.”

Mash punches through the enemy’s following attack.

Endless spells were thrown at them, each being devoured by your portals. You also continuously open portals to hurl attacks back at them— and so attacks are being hurled back and forth at high speeds while Mash tries to get close to Cell. The black haired boy is having a bit of difficulty doing so because of the dense amount of spells getting in his way in an attempt to block him off.

The blonde sneers at you all.

“You think an additional hand would make a difference? So long as I have this mirror, your attacks will never hit me— I'd last longer than your magic reserves”

In less than a blink of an eye, Mash was in front of the edgy man, appearing out of a portal.

“Hah! You think that'll do anyth—” The adult got interrupted as Mash casually punches him through an already broken mirror.

Cell gets thrown back against the wall.

“You talk too much.”

Everyone else but you and Mash were too stunned to speak as the boy nonchalantly destroyed a precious magical artifact that reflects magic. And that's when it clicked to them that Mash had no magic all this time— they were all in disbelief.

Cell then decided to retreat, acting like he had found and done his objective.

Well, chaos ensues as a student that formerly became a puppet gained consciousness and caught wind of mash being magicless. You immediately knock him out, not that it made much of a difference later though.

Nothing could be done as word quickly spread that Mash had no magic, subjecting him to harsh comments and criticisms. On the bright side, you weren't the hot topic anymore at least.

Mash and his friends were organizing a party of sorts, you joining them in preparing. You see, you already knew the mushroom head from a few years ago when you decided to run from your attendant again. You then wanted to give yourself a tour of the academy campus recently, and that's when you met Mash again who was with his friends at that time. That's when they gave you a tour and became your friends too.

Now back to the present. Mash's group of friends and the fangs of Magia Lupus(the mushroom head inviting them) were seated on a rectangular table as if they never had beef with each other. The boy basically conquered them with the power of friendship.

Lemon went to serve tea for everyone and Abyss started becoming a bumbling mess. Abel explained that the guy never had a normal interaction with a girl, so he calls them females instead of girls.

Then here comes you and mash carrying plates of food before settling them down on the table. Abyss just stares at you.

You notice and smile at him, “Long time no see, pretty boy~!”

Everyone looks at Abyss basically exploding in red— completely shutting down in the moment.

He already cannot interact with females, now what if a pretty one complimented him like that? He shuts down— absolutely gone from this world.

Abel found himself confused at the long haired male’s reaction, ‘long time no see��?

‘They know each other?!?!’ Everyone else thought.

So Abel turned to you to raise everyone's question.

“Well, kind of? I do owe him though.” You answer.

At that, no one questioned it further despite some still being curious about the relationship between you two.

The party was going well somewhat, Abel brought out a deck of cards and invited everyone else to play (card game name I forgot I'm sorry). Dot went up to the challenge immediately, Mash wanting to learn about how to play, and the other people present either accepted or declined.

You decided to join them after observing how to play the game. You find it funny that Dot would've managed to win a few times if it weren't for Abyss basically threatening him to lose on purpose so that Abel can win. You can barely notice how Abel’s expression twitched in slight ire at being easily handed wins .

You step in, finally getting the gist on how to play. “I'll play a few rounds, maybe I'll be able to really know how to play it then”

The circle made some space for you to sit down, coincidentally you got seated directly in front of Abyss. He avoids eye contact with you at all times.

The first round starts, you having a bad set of cards right off the bat— causing you to lose quickly. You got fired up, wanting to win even though you might get threatened with a sword to your neck.

The next round starts and you get dealt with a better hand this time, having a really great fighting chance. A few turns later, you were close to winning as only you, Abyss, and Abel were left. The light blue haired male was still avoiding your eyes but he desperately wanted to serve Abel the win.

He debated pulling out the tactics he used on Dot, but couldn't bring himself to do so. Before everyone knew it, the monopoly on the crown for winning ended as a winner that wasn't Abel reigned over the game.

You cheered.

Lemon cheered.

Mash cheered.

Dot screamed.

The three of you then decided to do a celebratory dance. “Yay~! Yay~! Yay~!”

Dot then somehow was able to rip a part of his bandages open around his mouth and protested saying how unfair it was. The redhead pointed out Abyss’ obvious bias when he did nothing to hinder your win against his dear Abel.

Then as if in a eureka moment, blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“You're such a goddamn simp!”

Abyss stammers “H-how absurd to say that! I'm not a simp-”

“Yes you are-” Dot shuts himself up as the long haired male pulls out his sword to threaten him again.

All the while, Abel gathers the cards and starts shuffling the deck for the next round. He seemed happy despite losing.

The day passed on with everyone joining in on the different card games Abel introduced. It was an entertaining sight to see Abyss unable to do anything against you as you take the nth win. Overall, a very fun experience— one that made everything feel so normal and the long haired male can't help but to admit it was nice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

long author's note:

I first have to thank those who took time to read and tolerate my writing I honestly think I'm dogwater at it lmao

parts after this can be considered as stand-alones since this short series can be the prequel to how abyss develops his relationship with you, so feel free to request scenarios you may want to read— although I'll basically be using this series as a backbone to these requests

lastly I apologize for the people who like cell war— bro did not deserve to be called an edgelord and all the such(perhaps). also I used japanese honorifics since I find it a bit difficult to translate how people refer to each other into just words— like how finn refers to rayne as “onii-sama” as an indication of their relationship and finn looking up to rayne in respect.

#abyss razor x reader #abyss x reader #abyss razor #abyss #mashle x reader #mashle #mashle magic and muscles #mash burnedead #abel walker #lemon irvine #dot barrett #cell war #cell war slander

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megamindsecretlair · 1 year ago

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It's a Little Warm, Part 4

Pairing: Bucky x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Cursing. Allusions to abusive, toxic parents. Mentions of private parts. Mild age gap. Reader is late 20s and Bucky is mid 30s. Dom Bucky. Finally, some smut! Dirty talk, PIV and unprotected sex. Fingering, fem receiving. Part 4 of 5. Some sentences are intentional AAVE.

Summary: Sam Wilson is your play uncle and has invited you and Bucky to stay at a cabin with him, Sarah, and the kids. At dinner that evening, you promised to pay Bucky back for leaving you unfulfilled. You should've known that he'd take the reins right back.

Word Count: 2,831k

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 5

A/N: Holy wow, four parts already? I know this took a while to get out. My brain wasn't braining, okay?! And I have nothing to say for myself, except I'm feral again and Bucky can always get it. Sorry if I missed any warnings. While likes are awesome, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

taglist: @softimgyu @blackreaderatrisk @braverthanthenewworld @multiversefanfics @monaeesstuff

The look on Bucky’s face was well worth putting on this dress. The only ones at the table at the moment were Aunt Sarah and the boys. The boys were oblivious, into a video game they played at the table. Aunt Sarah snapped her fingers and gave you a knowing look.

But Bucky’s face…you wish you could capture that look on his face. His eyes were narrowed, his nostrils slightly flared. He had a smirk on his face like he knew something you didn’t and you hoped that meant he was imagining ripping the dress off of you.

You sat down next to him and blinked up innocently at him. “Hey everyone,” you said.

Bucky rubbed his jaw and sighed. Aunt Sarah shook her head and said hello. “How ya feeling?” She asked you.

“I’m fine. Damn, ya’ll are dramatic,” you said.

The kids made fun of you for cursing. “Oh, stay out of grown folk business,” you said and stuck your tongue out at them. They stuck their tongues out at you. Aunt Sarah fussed at them to put the game away.

You snaked your hand on to Bucky’s thigh. It was thick and firm and to his credit, he didn’t jump. He looked at you and smirked. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked.

“Having a bit of fun. Don’t we have fun with each other?” You asked.

“You’re playing with fire, doll,” he grumbled, low enough for just you to hear.

“I’m counting on it.” You grinned as Uncle Sam came outside, carrying a large tray of meat.

Steam rose up from the steaks he cooked. It simmered in light grease and the marinade he used. Your mouth watered as he settled it in the middle of the table. Also on the table were various bowls that Uncle Sam and Aunt Sarah put together after everyone had come inside.

You inched your hand closer to Bucky’s dick and his leg finally twitched. He ran his tongue over his canine as he looked at you. His heavenly blue eyes promised holy retribution and you shivered.

Together, you said a small grace before bowls were being passed around in a circle. You took a piece of steak and put it on your plate, along with veggies and mashed potatoes. You grabbed a hard cider from the side of you, and you all dug in, trading stories.

Night was starting to wash away the rich hues of orange and pink and lingering blue. Stars peaked out overhead. The heat finally died away, casting a gentle breeze off of the lake. The sun still hung around though, as if it didn’t want the day to end either.

“Man, and then he let some little girl whup his ass!” Uncle Sam chuckled as he talked about Bucky.

“You try balancing on a moving truck against super soldiers. Not all of us have wings,” Bucky playfully grumbled.

Bucky wiped his mouth with his napkin and then placed his hand on your thigh. As he spoke and recounted what happened with the Flag Smashers, he talked animatedly with his left hand. His right hand, however, the sneaky bastard inched it over your thigh.

He lifted the hem of your dress and teased your pussy over your panties. You bit your lip to keep from moaning. You concentrated on keeping your face neutral. Ain’t no fucking way he was going to try and turn the tables on you now, while he was telling a story. You had shown mercy letting him eat his food in peace.

As he spoke about Uncle Sam also getting his ass kicked on said truck, you slipped your hand back on his thigh. You ran your hand along his thickening bulge that seemed to keep growing the more you played with him. And damn him, he didn’t falter in his story once. You searched further, for the tip, and ran your nails across it.

He choked for a bit and you hid a smirk. Bucky kept choking and he took a sip of water.

“Yeah, you know that was a lie. That’s why your ass is choking,” Uncle Sam said. The table laughed. You kept running your nails across his tip before he moved his hand out from under your dress.

He drank some water and you removed your hand. There was no way he could stand up now. Not without broadcasting that he was as hard as brick.

“I’m choking trying to get it out without laughing,” Bucky said with a grin. Uncle Sam smirked and drank his beer.

“Then what happened?” AJ asked.

“Boy, you’ve heard this a million times,” Aunt Sarah said.

“I like hearing it,” AJ said with a shrug.

Aunt Sarah looked at you and rolled her eyes. You laughed and shook your head.

“You sure you’re okay?” Aunt Sarah asked.

While Bucky continued to entertain the kids, you leaned over a bit.

“I am fine. Can ya’ll please stop worrying about me?” You asked.

“I know what this time of the year means…”

You waved her off. “I’m better than fine. I promise. It doesn’t hurt anymore. Do you believe me?” You asked.

Aunt Sarah searched your eyes, but with the approaching darkness, you hoped it hid how wide your eyes must look or how you were blinking too much. Yeah, this time of the year fucking sucked. When you decided to cut your parents off, it wasn’t a quiet parting. Half the neighborhood heard your screaming match.

Aunt Sarah let you stay with her while you shuffled what little things you managed to keep out of your parent’s house. She helped you grieve and mope. Helped you find a gig and move out to your own place. You didn’t need them. They were nothing more than tissue donors.

Aunt Sarah gave you one last look before nodding. You breathed a sigh of relief.

You tuned back into the conversation just as Bucky started mouthing off about John Walker.

“Don’t ruin the mood with that dollar store Captain Colonizer,” Uncle Sam barked out a laugh and nearly choked on his beer.

“Please, leave the name calling to Y/N. She’s better at it,” Aunt Sarah said and laughed.

“Hey, I’m better at names than she is!” Uncle Sam said.

The table was quiet for about two seconds before everyone erupted into a fit of laughter. It instantly raised your mood and you had tears in your eyes. “All ya’ll suck,” Uncle Sam grumbled.

“Can we go look at the stars now?” AJ asked.

“Yeah, it’s dark enough!” Cass seconded.

“Barely. You’re sure?” Aunt Sarah asked.

The kids nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, let’s go!” Uncle Sam was nothing but a damn kid himself. He challenged the kids to race him to the edge of the lake. Aunt Sarah shook her head.

“They love it when he comes to visit,” she remarked before she stood up and started tidying up.

“You go on ahead. We’ll clean up. The least we can do since you cooked,” Bucky offered.

Aunt Sarah gave him a look that definitely said she wasn’t buying that lame ass excuse. Bucky chuckled and licked his lips. “I swear. I was raised to help. I feel useless just sitting here,” he said.

“It’s called a vacation,” she said.

“Never understood the term.” He turned on his charming smile, the megawatt movie star one he was fond of tossing around. It should be illegal. He definitely knew what he was up to when he sicced it on people.

Not even Aunt Sarah was immune. Her face still held a skeptical look before she looked at you and raised her eyebrow. You gave her an innocent look.

“Clean up thoroughly,” she said ominously, looking at you specifically.

“Ew!” You said and waved her off. She laughed and headed across the yard towards the docks where Uncle Sam was pointing into the sky for the kids.

Once she was a safe distance away, Bucky looked at you. “You think you’re pretty cute, don’t you?”

“Of course I’m cute,” you said. He chuckled and stood up, his dick at full attention and straining against his dark jeans. He gathered up some of the dishes, just like he said. He carried most of it, while you grabbed the tray that held the steaks and walked into the kitchen.

No sooner had you both put your dishes down, did Bucky pull you by the hand and crowded your space. He stepped close, too close, until your bodies were pressed together. “You’re a fucking brat that doesn’t listen.”

You blinked innocently at him. “I do listen, I swear. I’m just not used to being denied an orgasm. I don’t like it,” you said.

“You seem to have a hard time understanding who’s in charge here,” he said. His face did an adorable scrunch and you resisted the urge to smooth the furrow in his brow.

“Not really. We both know it’s me,” you said. You trailed your hand over his stomach and down his legs until you cupped him. He grinned, slowly, and ran his tongue over his lips.

“That right, doll?” He asked.

“Yup. I’ve got you wrapped around my cute little finger,” you said. Bucky chuckled and threw his head back. Whether he was praying for patience or praying for strength you didn’t know, you just wanted him to touch you.

Bucky looked out of the window, to check on the family. He crossed the kitchen and turned off the lights, plunging you into near blackness. The porch light from outside cast long shadows on the kitchen floor.

Bucky grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the pantry. You yelped as he was none too gentle about it. He shoved you inside and closed the door, only leaving a tiny crack.

“You are such a fucking tease. You want it then?” His voice was breathless and seemed louder in the close quarters of the pantry. It wasn’t terribly huge, just big enough for three people to step into comfortably.

You couldn’t see him. You could only feel him as he fumbled with his belt and jeans. The metal of the buckle hit one of the shelves. The slide of the zipper pulled down. Next he was grabbing you by the hips and twisting you exactly how he wanted you, your back against his chest. He used his boots to slide your legs wider.

“Hands on the shelf, doll.”

You complied. Your harsh breaths mixed with his as anticipation steadily built inside of you. Despite the desperate need you knew you both felt, his hands on you were slow and methodical. He ran his hands along your bare arms, down your sides. He cupped your breasts and you sighed.

He brought his head down to rest against yours. His fingers bunched up your dress. “So fucking needy, aren’t you?”

You nodded. “Words, doll,” he said.

“Yes,” you said.

He kissed your neck, licked it. His breath fanned over it, creating a heady mix of sensations you could barely keep track of.

“See, I wanted to do this nice and slow thing like a gentleman. Stretch that pretty pussy so you’d be ready for me and you’d be comfortable. But your needy ass couldn’t wait that long, could you?”

“No,” you whimpered. His filthy words made you ache so painfully. You needed his hands on you. Where it mattered. Then the bastard groaned in your ear.

You brought your hand back to play with his soft hair. He grabbed it and placed it back on the shelf. He chuckled. “I’m gonna have to teach you to fuckin’ listen.”

You ground your hips into his crotch. You didn’t care how pathetic you looked. You were only glad the light were off. There was nothing but feel and the sound of his voice.

“Nothing to say?” He finally began to slide your dress up and over your thighs, over your hips. “You were so confident a few minutes ago.”

“Dammit, Bucky…” You didn’t have time for teasing. He had been teasing you for the past day and a half. Everything he did was a tease. If he glanced at you, he was teasing. You couldn’t take it anymore.

The bastard chuckled. He slid his hands inside your panties, going right to the core of you. You ought to be embarrassed by how wet you were for him. “That’s my girl,” he growled in your ear.

He played with your clit, rubbing his fingers over and over in slow circles. “More, I want more,” you moaned.

“You want more? Beg me for it. Since you have me wrapped around your little finger.”

He would choose now to throw your words back into your face. You didn’t care. Not as long as it meant you could finally have him.

“Please, Bucky. Please fuck me,” you begged. “Please, please…” you cried. The more he played with you, the higher up on your tiptoes you went. His fingers felt so good playing with you. The wet suction of his fingers sliding into your pussy helped to drive your desire higher and higher.

“Shh, relax. Relax,” he whispered as he slowed his pace and made you sink back to the floor. He continued to go slow as he whispered and put you at ease.

He chuckled again and bit your ear. “You beg so pretty for me. Gonna have to try and keep quiet, okay?”

He slid his metal fingers into your hair and pushed you forward so that you were bent over. He used your slickness to coat his dick. Then, he moved your panties to the side and slid home.

You both cried out in a breathless moan as he filled you up completely. He left no room whatsoever. “Shit,” you cried.

Bucky chuckled and bit your ear again, holding on to your hip with his free hand as he began to move. He moved all the way out before slamming back in. He did it a few more times as you adjusted to his size. You slid easily. You were so wet, it started to leak down the inside of your legs.

The only sounds in the tiny pantry were his grunts, the wet slap of your thighs on his, and the whines you couldn’t keep quiet, no matter how much you wanted to. He set a brutal pace, slamming into you over and over. You dropped your head to the shelf in front of you and rode him.

“That’s right. Move that ass. Gonna make me do all the work?”

“No…” You cried.

“This what you wanted, huh? You wanted this cock inside this pussy,” he whispered.

“Yes, yes…” His fingers dug into your hip as he went deeper, hitting a spot no other man had been able to find.

You felt him twitch inside of you. You were too far gone to make a snarky comment about it. You just needed to reach that peak. As if you were at the top of a rollercoaster and you were about to fall over. You were nearly there. You could feel it, gathering low in your belly.

He groaned and whimpered in your ear. Both of you were dizzy with pleasure. “Come for me, doll. Come on, I can feel it. I can feel you squeeze this cock.”

You clenched painfully on him before he thrust deeper and you exploded around him. Your orgasm shook you to your core. You unraveled and it was only by his hand in your hair and on your hip that you didn’t float away.

You bit your lip so hard you tasted blood, trying not to scream the way you really wanted to. Bucky thrust one more time before he joined you, shooting cum into you. He kept going. He kept fucking it into you as if trying to brand himself there.

When he stopped twitching, he collapsed against you, pushing you into the shelves. Your breaths mingled as you tried to find a way back to your body. His mouth was against the back of your head.

He panted and groaned. He kissed your head. He kissed your jaw and the side of your neck. “That’s my beautiful doll. You’re so gorgeous.” He continued to kiss you and rub his hands up and down your arms as he stayed lodged inside you.

Your legs were wobbly and you shook in front of him. You huffed and panted, calming down from such a powerful rush.

He started to slip out of you and you felt a tiny rush of his cum leak out. It was obscene and so fucking hot. You moaned at the loss of him.

He grabbed your chin and twisted you around until he could kiss you, his lips moving sloppily over yours.

“The hell are ya’ll at?”

You gasped. You had just enough time to fix your panties before the door swung open. Bucky moved quicker, shielding you from Uncle Sam.

“The fuck is going on here?!”

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 5

#megaminds secret files #The Secret Bucky Files #marvel smut #fanfic #fanfiction #Bucky x Black!reader #Bucky x Black reader #Bucky x reader #Bucky x you #Bucky x Fem!reader #Bucky x Fem reader #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic

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meneatyoghurt · 22 days ago

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I am excited for Wing It to air in December (and a bit disappointed I couldn't go to a recording), so here's a run down of everyone who's in it (including notes on whether/how I know them, or where you might be familiar with them from).

P.S. As far as I'm aware, this was the final lineup, but let me know if you know of any changes.

A note for the unfamiliar, when I say panel shows I mean comedies like QI, Have I Got News For You (Paul Merton is one of the team captains on this one), 8 Out Of 10 Cats, etc. or on the radio The News Quiz (the show Sam produces), Just A Minute, I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue, etc. They typically have a quiz format with a host and two teams.

Also, I do apologise for pointing out who people are married to but I've only done it when I know their partner is also a comedian/actor!

Cariad Lloyd

You'll know Cariad from the pilot, but she's done a lot of TV and radio work. So if you're British or into British comedy at all, you might have seen her on QI or other panel shows. She's an actor so she's also been in things like Murder in Successville. And she's a seasoned improviser and one of the cast members in Austentatious, who do Jane Austen inspired improvised plays. I think she's a regular guest with The Comedy Store Players as well. Her podcast, Griefcast, is very popular too. I'm pretty familiar with Cariad and think she's great.

Rachel Paris

Rachel is another member of Austentatious and has also done a fair amount of TV and radio work. She was previously on The Mash Report with Nish Kumar and has done various panel shows. She also happens to be married to Marcus Brigstock, a well-known comedian and improviser, and they've both performed at Paul Merton and Suki Webster's improv night at the comedy store (and maybe with The Comedy Store Players?). I'm also pretty familiar with Rachel and she's very funny.

Here's both Cariad and Rachel in Austentatious:

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Kemah Bob

Kemah is an American comedian and another panel show regular. I wasn't aware she did improv before seeing her on the Wing It cast but she's been funny when I've seen her on TV. She's also had some small acting parts. I'm aware of her but only occasionally spot her on things.

Here's Kemah doing some standup:

youtube

Emma Sidi

If you're a Taskmaster fan (and if you're not, where have you been?) you'll be watching Emma on it right now. If not, you might recognise her as Kitty's sister in Ghosts. She is also the co-writer and star of the sitcom Starstruck (with the wonderful Kiwi comedian Rose Matafeo, another Taskmaster star) and she's appearing on Richard Osman's House of Games this week. I only knew Emma from Ghosts before seeing her on Taskmaster (I keep meaning to watch Starstruck but haven't got around to it 😬) but I've quickly fallen in love with her. She's very funny.

Here's Emma on Taskmaster (focus on Emma from 2 mins but worth watching all of it):

youtube

Steen Raskopoulos

Another person who was in the pilot. I actually was only really aware of Steen because he's married to the comedian Sara Pascoe (another stand-up, Taskmaster star and regular panel show guest) who is much more well-known in the UK than he is, and I think I've heard of his sister. But he's an Australian comedian who also does improv (in fact I've seen clips of him performing as half of a double act at 21Soho). Oh actually, I say that but it turns out I saw him in the very funny Feel Good (stars Charlotte Richie for Ghosts fans). He's also done Whose Line Is It Anyway Australia and he's in a new Australian version of The Office. Can you tell I'm looking at his IMDB page?

Here's Steen with one of my favourite comedians, Aisling Bea:

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instagram

Monica Gaga

If you watched the last livestream, you'll have seen Monica (and loved her, I'm sure). I admit to not really knowing her although I think I've heard her name before (probably just floating around because of other performers mentioning her). She seems to primarily identify as an improviser but does various other hosting/compering and performing. She's a regular with the Comedy Store Players, produces and stars in various improv things on stage and has been involved in various radio and tv projects. I'll be keeping an eye out for her in the future!

Here's Monica doing three-headed expert at The Comedy Store:

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Amy Cooke-Hodgson

Another Austentatious cast member. She's performed with Shoot From The Hip before (you might have seen the video where they're on the tube/train). She's an actor, improviser and singer. Another one I don't know very well but she's funny in the clips I've seen of her.

Here's Amy in Austentatious:

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Amy Hoggart

So I mostly recognise Amy from Almost Royal, which she starred in with Ed Gamble (the comedian who does the Off Menu podcast with James Acaster) and I've only seen clips of that. But apparently she was also on Full Frontal with Samantha Bee so some people might recognise her from that. Outside of acting, it looks like she has a podcast where she improvs specific characters with someone else (so a bit like Rosie Holt does her Tory woman).

Here's Amy on Full Frontal (just a warning that this is very much about guns and school shootings):

youtube

In conclusion, WHAT A LOAD OF FUNNY WOMEN (and a funny man).

And speaking of Ghosts, I know that Kiell Smith-Bynoe who plays Mike also does improv, so if they get another series, I'd love to see him on it.

#shoot from the hip #anyway i'd like wing it to be successful and get a second series #so please do listen when it's out!#you'll be able to do so with the bbc sounds app or the website (should work in most countries)

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levi501ackerman · 7 months ago

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Allegiance: Part 2 | Levi x Reader

masterlist

Summary: The Survey Corps comes to dinner and you anxiously want to give Levi your gift.

Word Count: 2.9k

Megan's Note: Song correlated: Playing Dangerous by Lana Del Rey. Okay ugh I this is going to be 4 parts sorry. Also update: I broke up with my boyfriend and I'm going to fill the void with AOT, Levi x Reader, writing and studying for finals. LOL Posted: 4/28/24. Enjoy :)

You stared at yourself in the mirror. You thought you looked quite pretty. The Survey Corps would arrive at any moment now. The gift for Levi was wrapped in a small box. All you could think about was the moment when you could give him the gift. You daydreamed about his eyes and the way he could look at you. The way he could admire you. This was your moment to show how poise and proper you were. You smiled at yourself. This is the smile of a lady, you thought to yourself.

You walked out of your room and when you reached the top of the stairs you could smell the faint aroma of dinner. How could the survey corps not be excited for dinner? Even if they showed up with full stomachs the scent of the braised beef will have them famished. You wanted nothing but the best for them.

The dining room was closer to the kitchen where the chef was preparing dinner. The room was filled with the delicious scent and made your mouth water. Your father and mother were sitting at the dining table chatting.

“Y/N, you look wonderful,” your father said.

“You are a beautiful young lady,” your mother added.

“Thank you, mother,” your cheeks felt a little heat on them. Hopefully, Levi will think you're pretty.

“Tonight . . . why don’t you sit at the other head of the table?” Your father stood up, walked to the other end of the table, and pulled out the chair. Your eyebrows raised in the news that you were going to sit where your mother always sat.

“Really!?” You beamed and sat in the chair. You looked at the view down the long table of candles and flowers. “Mother, you’re going to sit next to Father right? That means Levi and Hange can sit next to me.” You got up and moved the two chairs on either side of the table slightly closer to your side of the table.

“Yes, I’d like to get to know Erwin more.” Your mother said.

“He’s a wonderful man, a good choice for the leader of the entire scout regiment.” Your Father said. “I have a little surprise for you for dessert.” You gasp hoping it was a chocolate fudge cake or brownies.

“Really?! What is it!? I can’t wait! I hope Levi, Hange, and Erwin like coming over here!” You ran and hugged your dad.

“I know how much you wanted to make a good impression on the survey corps. Only the best of the best for you.” Your father hugged you tightly.

One of the military police your parents employed notified the arrival of the survey corps. You began to feel your heartbeat in your throat. The time was coming. Your family lined up in the foyer. One of the military police opened the door. Erwin, Hange, and Levi entered. You noticed they were looking everywhere in your house but you.

“Warren!” Erwin and your father hugged. “A wonderful home you have.”

“Your hair looks really nice, Hange,” You went to hug her which she didn’t expect, but hugged back.

“Thank you. Your dress is beautiful, you’re a very pretty girl.” You flushed especially since you know Levi heard her compliment. When you pulled away from Hange you looked at Levi who was still looking around the foyer of your home.

“Hi Levi, you look nice,” You said sweetly. His expression appeared softer. “Are you hungry?” You said looking at Hange and Levi.

“It smells wonderful,” Hange said. You grabbed both Levi and Hange’s wrists and pulled them towards the dining room.

“You guys are sitting next to me.”

“This tastes delicious,” Erwin said after his first bite of the braised beef. Everyone had a beautiful plate with braised beef, mashed potatoes and carrots. It was warm and the beef was so tender. A dish for special occasions. It took the chef approximately four hours to make it.

“I’m glad you enjoy it, it’s Y/N’s favorite.” Your father said smiling at you.

“It’s very good,” Hange said.

“Your glasses are really cute, it suits you.” You said and the compliment surprised Hange.

“Y/N! I also have a pair for expeditions that are strapped around my head, so they don’t fall off when I fly.” Hange said.

“That makes sense.” You said.

“What made you interested in chemistry?” Hange asked. It felt like the whole table was looking at you and listening to your response. Truly you didn’t know why. You had no passion for chemistry it was just a subject your parents had told you over and over about. They told you that those with degrees in chemistry are rare and there will always be jobs available for them. Your parents mainly wanted you to get a degree for the sake of having one. You didn’t know how to answer Hange and didn’t want to throw your parents under the carriage.

“I guess I liked the challenge. It’s pretty abstract and I had difficulty in school. But I think I want to be a part of the research that helps us. In college, we were learning about chemicals and the process of meat preservation. To help keep meat fresh longer. I think that will help us since each district is low on meat.” You said while looking at your plate. There wasn’t much left to say. “I don’t know how chemistry would help in finding out how titans came to be, but it would be an interesting job to have. Do you have any hobbies, Hange?” You said hoping to get off the subject of chemistry and jobs.

“YES! I COLLECT ANIMAL SKULLS!” Hange said energetically. The table went silent and Erwin laughed.

“Did you kill the animals?” Your mother asked slowly.

“No, I found them! I have four in my office!” Hange assured with a big smile.

“Hange wants to know if you still have the skull from tonight's meal,” Levi said. Hange laughed and you smiled.

“No I found them. I found a squirrel’s skull on my first expedition. I kept it for memory’s sake. Then at a shop in Trost, they were selling a bird’s skull. I also have a chicken and a rat’s skull.”

“That’s so cool! Have you visited a taxidermy shop? I bet you could find more skulls.” You said.

“What’s taxidermy?” Hange asked.

“It’s preserving an animal by stuffing them.” You said.

“I don’t think this is a good topic for dinner,” Your mother said then laughed.

“I can give you the address later,” You whispered. “Levi, do you have any hobbies?” Levi glanced at Erwin who was laughing loudly at what your father said.

“I have a small collection of tea leaves, ” Levi said. Damn it. If only you knew that so you could have gotten him tea leaves or perhaps pretty decorated jars to keep them in.

“Oh, that’s cute! So you must like tea a lot. The place we were at yesterday not only has really good black tea, but green as well. How long until you leave the city?”

“We have four days left,” Hange said. You gasped excitedly. That’s enough time to find a tea leaf jar for Levi.

“Levi you’ll have time to go back to the cafe! Get the green tea! I can go with you!” You said and Hange smirked at Levi.

“Maybe.”

“The owner is really kind I bet if you ask he’ll give you tea leaves.” You said and Levi unexpectedly gave you a small smile. You started to feel the heat on your cheeks. Levi smiled at you!

“I hope you all have room for dessert!” Your father cheerfully said to the table. “I asked the chef to make one of Y/N’s favorite desserts.” You were beaming excited for the surprise your father was giving you.

The chef and some staff brought six plates of chocolate souffle with cut-up strawberries on top with chocolate sauce. You gasped excitedly.

“Thank you, father!” You said not taking your eyes off the plate coming towards you.

“This looks good,” Levi said which made your heart flutter.

“Well if there are extras maybe you can take some when you leave.” You offered. The table silently ate the cake because the rich chocolate was so delightful. Everyone quickly ate the dessert. The strawberries with the chocolate sauce was your favorite part. The sounds filling the room were the clattering of spoons scraping the cake off the plate. Inside you were very happy that the survey corps were enjoying the food you were offering. You noticed you could hear your heartbeat because, at the end of the dessert, you were planning on giving Levi your gift. You just needed the perfect window. You hoped your father would suggest showing Erwin something or anything to cause a distraction. Your father always brought up his gun collection to guests you wished for once he would.

“I think this is a good time to give you a gift, Y/N,” Erwin said and stood up from his chair. You furrowed your brows and your mouth was slightly agape. Erwin dug through a small jacket pocket. You look at Hange who has a smile on her face and you turned to your father.

“Father, do you know about this?” You asked.

“He doesn’t,” Erwin said handing you a small velvet blue bag. Your eyes go big. You carefully pull the ribbons and open the pouch. You felt a cool metal touch. Then you pull out a small Wings of Freedom pin. You gasped loudly and Erwin offered a kind smile.

“THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU, COMMANDER ERWIN! I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT” You sprung up and hugged him and he chuckled. You were bouncing at the small gift.

“What is it dear?” Your mother asked.

“He got me a Wings of Freedom pin!” You showed the pin to your mother and father across the long dinner table. “Thank you so much, Commander Erwin!”

“Your admiration for the scouts is very much appreciated. We appreciate your support.” Erwin said and you gave the salute.

“Thank you so much! I’ll wear it every day!” Though the pin didn’t match your dress, a smile never left your face as you put it on.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Erwin.” Your mother said.

“Erwin, I have a gift for you as well. It’s from my gun collection.” Your father said laughing and getting up from his chair.

“I guess we’re all gift-exchanging,” Erwin said and smiled at you before following your father out of the room. This was your opportunity.

“Hey Levi, I have a gift for you.” You said softly hoping he didn’t hear how nervous you were. He stared back at you. You could see he was confused or surprised? “Come with me!” You grabbed his wrist and pulled him out of his chair. Hange started laughing. You let go of his wrist when you hit the bottom of the stairs. “It’s up in my room. Follow me.” You dashed upstairs excitedly and Levi followed. He looked around your foyer again taking in the interior design of your home. He’s never seen a home like yours. “This is my room . . .” You said entering a door slightly down the hall way. You turned on a small lamp next to your bed and then the room was dimly lit. Levi was surprised at how large your room was. To him, it was probably the size of a living room. He saw how neat your room was. The bedding of your room was a dark red. The headboard was white wood with red fancy stitching and the end of the bed was white wood with red florals. There was a white and dark red floral print on your pillows. Levi saw the lace drapes on your window and how feminine the paintings in your room were. He saw you bent over opening a drawer from your large vanity. There were candles and fresh flowers sitting on top. It was unbelievable how this was a room for one person.

“What’s this gift you were talking about?” He asked. You got the gift from the drawer and walked to him smiling.

“This is for you.” You said and Levi noticed that your hands were slightly shaking when holding out the small box. He looked at the box and then at you. He hesitated and then carefully grabbed the box. You held your hands nervously and watched him open the box slowly. He raised his eyebrows slightly. Levi was taken back by this gift.

“What . . is . . this . . . ?” He said slowly and had a confused expression. You gently took the box from him and grabbed his right hand. He let you.

“I just want you to have something to remember me bye,” You said softly. You put a platinum ring with a center stone of a square Jubilee cut of malachite on his middle finger. Levi stared at the ring on his right hand. Then he stared at you.

“This is . . . very extravagant for someone you met a few days ago.” He said.

“Do you not like it? I just . . . don’t want you to forget me.” It felt like Levi didn’t like the gift. It’s not like you were asking him to marry you. Your heart was pounding and your shoulders were tense. You kept looking at each other in the eyes.

“It’s the nicest gift I’ve received.” He said quietly. You stepped a little closer to him. You were so close, that you noticed how clean he smelled. He stared at you and he seemed slightly nervous. Your presence was overwhelming to him. Levi hoped no one would walk in.

“You’re really handsome, Levi . . .” He noticed the sparkle in your eyes in the dimly lit room. “Do you . . . think I’m pretty?” His chest was noticeably rising up and down. Levi noticed how tense he was. You were so close to him. He hoped you didn’t notice his blush.

“How old are you?” He whispered. You were not expecting him to ask that. You began to worry you were too young for him. You thought about lying, but you knew he would not like that at all. You looked down at your hands.

“Why? How old are you?” You asked, Levi looked away.

“Answer. How old are you?” He firmly whispered. You hesitated and he looked into your eyes.

“Twenty-three.” You whispered and there was hope in your voice. He gazed at you. He was still. You could tell he was not someone who romantically took charge. He was as nervous as you. “Answer. Do you think I’m pretty?” He swallowed and was hesitant to answer. He was tense and breathing hard. You were taking up all his thoughts.

“Very.” He whispered. Your heart fluttered. Levi couldn’t help but feel nervous around you. You looked at his hands they looked so nice and you wanted to touch him. The ring looked elegant on him. You wanted him to touch you. He felt like a slave to his body. You were making him think dirty thoughts and you were causing him to imagine things he’s never wanted before. He imagined how you would look below him or with your dress off. He shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts. He blushed deeply because it felt like you were reading his mind. You were quite a bit younger than him and your parents were downstairs. Along with his boss. “What do you want?”

“Same as you . . .” You whispered.

“ . . . Y/N . . . I-I don’t—” You stepped closer to him and your beautiful eyes gazing at him. He hasn’t had anything he wanted this close to him.

“Then why did you follow me to my room . . . ?” You whispered then gently put your hand on his bicep. He slightly flinched and then he let you slowly pet his arm. “ . . . And why haven’t you told me to stop?” You glanced at his arm, his lips, and then his eyes. “ . . . do you want me to stop, Levi?”

“ . . . No,” He whispered. You gently pressed your lips on his. Your first kiss. So soft. He hesitated, then kissed back passionately. He caressed your neck. You pulled away and his eyes were your favorite color. “ . . . I don’t think your father would approve of me . . .”

“Hot,” You tugged his shirt, making him kiss you again. He kissed with more confidence and enthusiasm. He walked you back into a wall. Your back hit the wall. You took his hand and laid it on your right breast. He jerked his hand away from the sudden realization he touched a boob. You took his wrist and guided his hand back on your boob. He squeezed it and then took his lips away from yours. He breathed heavily, glanced at your body, and moved his hands around your waist. He looked into your longingly eyes and then looked down.

“We should . . . get back,” he whispered with a hint of annoyance.

“Come over tonight . . . if you want more . . . I could . . . leave my window open. Will you be able to get up?” You said.

“Yes . . . thank you for the gift, Y/N. It’s the nicest gift anyone has given me.” He said admiring the malachite ring.

“Can we go to the cafe tomorrow? I want to spend more time with you . . .” You asked.

“A spoiled brat like you have never heard no.” He whispered. You slapped his chest and he let you.

masterlist

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lenoraah · 1 year ago

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𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵.𝘵𝘸𝘰

pairing - marcus armstrong x wisconsin!reader

summary - reader was a pageant winner from two to eighteen before going to college to public speaking and becoming one of motorsport’s biggest content creators, interviewers and change makers. she and marcus have been dating for six months and she’s finally decided to bring him home to wisconsin for her eldest sister’s wedding

a/n - reader has several siblings, Abagail (27), Elijah (25), reader (22), Parker (17) and Shiloh (17). I wanted this to be written like short 300 word parts (like headcannons) but apparently I can’t write an imagine with short parts so probably this will be written into separate imagines. So this will be part.2 and. Also, not proof read. Also, I stressed so much over this so it’s probably shit. Sorry :)

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

family dinner-

“So Marcus, how’s life with my baby sister?” The bride-to-be asks while making a pouty face at Y/n.

“Abby stop it,” The y/h/c whines and flings a spoonful of mash potatoes at her older sister’s plate.

“A living hell right?” Elijah grins and wiggles his eyebrows at Marcus.

The brunette can only stifle a laugh as Y/n throws a cut up piece of chicken at her brother. She scowls at him as Y/n/n scolds the two of them.

“Yeah, ‘Lijah. Stop acting like a toddler.” Y/n teases her older and smirks only to have a piece of a dinner roll thrown at her head.

The y/h/c girl slowly turns her head to the side to see her younger sister grinning with her hand mid air.

Before Y/m/n can do anything Shiloh and Y/n toss pieces of their dinner at each other and the three siblings look at each other before shrugging and joining in.

“Guys stop it,” Y/m/n scolds once again and elbows her husband who is mindlessly shoving food in his mouth. “Y/d/n, help me out here.”

“Yeah, guys listen to your mother.”

Y/m/n sighs and smacks her husband’s head as she watching a her five children throw food around.

Y/n laughs uncontrollably as Abagail, Shiloh and her team up against the boys, flinging spoonfuls of mash potatoes at each other.

Marcus and Ravi, Abagail’s fiancé, share a look before also breaking out in laughter.

The two can’t even begin to express how lucky their were to find such smart and humorous and loving woman and be in a relationship with them.

The two keep watching the fight unfold as the siblings’ parents keep eating and sighs, well only their mother.

“Parker stop it! Don’t aim for my shirt, I just got it last week.” Shiloh half whines as she throws a piece of cabbage at her twin brother’s head.

“Too bad,” Parker laughs in return as he flings a bread roll at Shiloh’s head.

Y/n laughs and throws a spoonful of tomato sauce at Elijah who just in time dodges it, the sauce splattering all over Marcus’s shirt.

And just like that the pity food fight between the siblings stop and everyone slowly turn their heads to face Marcus.

Y/n is the first to break the silence with her laughter. Y/m/n can’t even open her mouth and scold her children as they all break out into laughter, apologizing over and over again.

“I’m so sorry honey,” Y/n says in between laughter as she places a hand on Marcus’s shirt.

“It’s a first and a tradition,” Ravi grins at Marcus who returns the smile as he pats Y/n head who is currently laughing into her boyfriend’s shoulder.

“How about he gets changed?” Y/m/n asks skeptically with a raise of her eyebrow.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Marcus gets up from his seat and excuses himself before he starts walking up the stairs.

“I’ll help,” Y/n runs after him.

“Uh huh, sure.”

#marcus armstrong #marcus armstrong x reader #indycar #indycar x reader #original post #original writing

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cellu-lightreading · 1 month ago

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Kinktober Day 2- Masquerade Ball

“You know the point of a masquerade ball is so no one knows who you are.”

I shoot the man a dirty look. I couldn’t identify the voice, but I knew I didn’t really want to be lectured by anyone at the moment. They left the buffet table open for seconds and I was absolutely going to enjoy this plate until my heart’s content. “I’m sorry you can’t switch me out for the other fat dudes pretending like their half a salad satisfied them.”

“Well, I’d take you over one of those guys any day.” It was a shameless come-on. I let it slide because chasers like him are the only one who give me compliments lately. Most guys would flock to my friends who look dashing in their suits, not the dude shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth.

I considered this night a waste about twenty minutes into the ball. We were invited by friends of friends who had only ever seen me knocking back beers at the bar. I was not the kind of guy who was ever in a lot of places with chandeliers and a wait staff in button downs. Everyone in the room outclassed me, having conversations about things that I had only ever heard about flipping past public radio. It didn’t help that I was also one of the biggest people in the room, while the rest of them looked like models on the red carpet.

I haven’t worn this suit in three years since my older brother got married. And it looks like it. The sides of the suit jacket won’t even approach each other with my gut in the way. The fabric of the shirt was pulled so tight there were gaps in between each of the buttons where you could see my undershirt underneath trying to maintain my dignity. My suit pants were so tight around my thighs that I had to put my phone and wallet in my jacket because they wouldn’t fit in my pockets. My pants also weren’t really buttoned; they were being held together by a rubber band that you couldn’t really see under my overhang. The whole outfit had a lifespan that could be measured in seconds, and it had to make it to the end of the night.

I picked up a drink off a tray from a waiter that had a tip glass. I fished out a couple dollars from water, but they slipped out of my fingers and landed on the ground. He looked at the ground and then at me. I looked at the ground and then back at him. He obviously couldn’t bend down with a tray, but if I tried to bend to the ground in these pants, they were not going to leave the ballroom in one piece. I took a few more bills out of my wallet and left those on the ground. That’s the price of dignity, I guess.

I took my drink and scrambled to find my seat. With a sigh of relief that no one else would see me tonight, I blew off two buttons right at the widest part of my stomach. I looked around trying to find the missing buttons and heard squeaking sounds come from under me. I lifted the covers on the chairs and saw that this fancy establishment skimped out and got the “cutesy” wooden ones that did not traditionally like bulks like mine. I needed a game plan. I leaned back in the chair and hear the squeaks get loud before it gave way underneath me.

In a moment the attention of the room was focused on me. My friends came rushing over asking me if I was okay and trying to find a new and better chair. All I could think about was how I was officially the elephant in the room- but everyone would talk about it instead. After that kind of embarrassment, I no longer cared about how I came off to people. I was going to enjoy myself.

Which is why I was three plates into this meal, trying to forget the misery I endured. I wanted the masked man to go away, but he refused. He pulls me up out of my special metal chair they pulled from a nearby office. He brushes the crumbs off of my clothes, and I notice how his had moves slower as it moves over the softest and widest parts of my body. He pulls the fabric from between my folds and underneath my moobs and smooths out the shirt. He tucks the flaps at the bottom back into my pants. The masked man pulls at the ends of my pants. He foolishly pushes the string out of his way to do the button. He pulls and pulls with all of his strength and tries to keep my overhang from getting in the middle. We’re close enough that I can feel him get hard trying to mess with my fat. He yanks one more time and the seam at the back of my pants rips loudly enough that a few people look over. It went from my ass and down my thigh and I was certain you could see the cellulite dimples through the hole.

“Time for you to earn your stripes little chaser,” I say with a sly smile.

#feedist kinktober 2024 #feedist kinktober #gainer fiction #gainer story #glorifying obesity #gay gainer #fat bhm #bhm weight gain #bhm #wg story

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rippleclan · 1 year ago

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RippleClan: Moon 1, Part 2

Downstar receives a dream from StarClan, much to Fennelspot’s envy.

[Image ID: Fennelspot and Downstar face each other. Downstar is surrounded by a few renders of pink flowers. Underneath her, pixel text reads + GUIDANCE FROM STARCLAN: THE FLOWER FIELD (DREAM)]

“I swear by StarClan, if Weedfoot didn’t ask me to take him in, I would have let him rot outside the Clans,” Downstar grumbled later that day as she trudged through the trees beyond RippleClan camp with Fennelspot at her side. The ginger cleric had a basket woven from grass twine in his jaws slowly filling with blueberries. He silently listened to Downstar as she carefully shuffled through a blueberry bush in the forests RippleClan carved out for their territory.

“AshClan should have let him stay,” Fennelspot said, his nasally voice muffled by the basket handle.

“It was hard enough to talk to Weedfoot when she lived there,” Downstar sighed. “I’m just glad she’s with us now. That we’re all together. Even if Puddlespeckle and Carnationkit are getting on my nerves.” Downstar spotted a few more blueberries deeper in the bush, hidden by afternoon shadow. She plucked each blueberry out with her mouth, careful not to pop the precious fruits. She dropped them in Fennelspot’s basket one by one. She snatched the last blueberry and dramatically chewed it up. She purred at the sudden sweetness.

“Lucky,” Fennelspot sighed. “I wish I could taste sweet things.”

“I think that’s all of the berries,” Downstar said. “Wanna head back to camp?” Fennelspot hummed in agreement.

The pair were still learning the territory, like everyone else in their haphazard Clan. They carved some of their eastern lands out of SlugClan and bordered WheatClan, but as they got further west, the more foreign the land became. Why SlugClan hadn’t expanded their land this way before, Downstar couldn’t guess.

“Fennelspot?” she asked softly. “I don’t think my mood today is just because of Puddlespeckle. I… I think I had a dream. From StarClan.” Fennelspot paused. “That’s common for leaders, isn’t it? StarClan likes to share stuff with us on occasion, rather than going to you clerics. It wasn’t a bad dream, either. I don’t think we have anything to fear. But it was so clear, Fennelspot.” Downstar pranced in front of Fennelspot.

“I really was in a field of flowers,” she purred. “I could smell them! I couldn’t tell what sort they were, but they were soft and red and beautiful! Oh, but that isn’t the best part, Fennel! There were these dogs, and for a moment, I thought they would eat me alive! But they got one paw deep into the flower field, and the flowers rose up and started hitting them! The flowers were protecting…” Downstar’s words died when she saw the look in Fennelspot’s eyes. He couldn’t meet Downstar’s.

“Sorry, sorry,” Fennelspot groaned, setting down the blueberry basket. “I’m glad StarClan spoke to you, if the dream felt that real, they’re likely saying something, but… Downstar, I haven’t heard anything from our ancestors since… since we formed RippleClan.”

Neither said a thing for a while. Gray squirrels, those parasites among squirrels, chittered somewhere in the trees overhead. Fennelspot wrapped his tail around his back leg. Downstar thought things through.

“Well,” Downstar gulped, “a lot happened when we formed RippleClan. It took a lot of effort. Maybe they just don’t have anything to say right now. It was probably a normal dream.”

“Maybe,” Fennelspot muttered.

“Hey.” Downstar tucked a paw under Fennelspot’s lowered chin. “It’s alright. When StarClan wants to speak with you, they will. You won them over before, right? They probably need a break from all this.” She waved her paw around Fennelspot’s face. He chuckled and batted the paw away.

“Alright,” Fennelspot sighed. “I’ll let it go.” He picked up the blueberry basket, but his tail still hung low.

“Let’s make something with these berries tonight,” Downstar suggested. “I can mash them up and pair them with the mussels Scrubmask collected this morning.”

“That sounds nice,” Fennelspot purred. “That sounds… really nice.”

(Downstar: 60, female, adventurous, valuable insight, very clever)

(Fennelspot: 58, male, insecure, valuable insight, incredible runner)

#rippleclan #rippleclan clangen #clangen #warrior cats #warrior cats clangen #warriors #downstar #fennelspot #rippleclan story

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takeyourcyanide · 8 months ago

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Cycle (Part 2)

(Soul Eater fanfiction)

Word count: 4 209

Summary: In this part, Stein is sent after Spirit since he hasn’t shown up to work in multiple days. Extremely melodramatic shit ensues!

Note:

I’m not sure how much I like this, to be honest. I’ve written better lmao. But have this!!!

……

“How did I know that I’d find you here,” Stein rhetorically teased his former weapon-partner, strolling confidently into the vibrantly painted Chupa Cabra’s, his hands in his coat pockets.

“Shut up, Stein,” Spirit slurred his words together, his flushed cheeks, and sloppy movements giving his certain inebriation away immediately.

The sun had begun to set a half hour ago, and Spirit had not shown up to work in a few days. Lord Death requested that Stein fetch the man, to inform him that he needed to at least call in sick if he happened to be ill.

Stein had already searched his apartment just to find no sign of the redhead. A pinching feeling in his gut told him that Spirit was most likely spending his time in his favorite pub.

“What’chu doin’ here?” Spirit sounded as though he was not truly present in the moment, somewhere far away in his hazy state of mind. His eyes were clouded over and filled with sorrow and hurt. His soul quivered with a mash of rejection, fear, anxiety, and despair. Stein had never seen Spirit so far down in the pits before.

“You haven’t been to work in days, Spirit, and you didn’t notify Lord Death or anyone that you were going to be absent,” Stein explained, walking calmly over to Spirit’s booth and taking a seat in front of him. There was a large bottle of vodka on the wooden table, nearly entirely empty. There were a multitude of shot glasses present, as well. The smell of liquor radiated off of the weapon. The odor fit his disheveled appearance rather well.

“Oh… Yeah,” the death scythe drawled, resting his spinning head down upon the table, avoiding Stein’s intense gaze. “‘M sorry,” Spirit choked on a small, pitiful sob, a sudden burst of tears falling from his eyes.

It had been clear to Stein from the moment he saw Spirit’s greasy, messy hair, and deep eye-bags, that he was in a fragile headspace, but he didn’t exactly expect him to begin crying almost as soon as he walked through the door.

Stein’s body tensed as he observed the weapon’s shaking shoulders. He did not know what he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to attempt to comfort the male? Was he not supposed to do anything?

“Why are you sorry?” He curiously prodded the drunkard, awkwardly fiddling with the inseams of his pockets.

“‘M letting everyone down,” Spirit lifted his head, staring directly into Stein’s indifferent eyes. “Maybe tha’s why Maka doesn’ lobe me.”

Spirit’s bottom lip quivered as violently as his soul, his cheeks were drenched with his own tears. His body shook even harder as he bawled like a newborn.

A few other patrons of the pub, as well as the employees, watched the scene from out of the corners of their questioning eyes. Stein figured this would be commonplace at an establishment such as this.

“Come on, let’s go home, Spirit,” Stein mumbled, stumbling on his words. He stood slowly from the booth, reaching his hands out towards Spirit’s shoulders as a silent request for him to rise up.

“Are you mad at me?” Spirit stared up anxiously at Stein, chewing on his fingernails as they stepped out of the building.

“No,” the meister responded plainly, glancing over at Spirit’s face. “You know, you look pretty when you cry,” Stein observed how the man’s cheeks and the very tip of his nose turned the same red as his hair, how shining droplets rested delicately upon the ends of his long eyelashes, how his eyebrows flitted upwards slightly, and how his pink, chapped lips pouted in a juvenile manner.

Stein either was indifferent to another’s tears, annoyed by them, or infatuated with them. Some people simply cried so beautifully that they looked like they belonged in a renaissance painting. Sometimes it was even entertaining to him. It was also incredibly fascinating. The sadistic part of him enjoyed how vulnerable the other was, how he had the control, how he could easily ruin the other. He wouldn’t tell Spirit that, though. He figured it wouldn’t do any good.

“Huh? You’re weird,” Spirit wiped at his nose with the black sleeve of his suit jacket, leaning on Stein’s shoulder as he could hardly walk.

Stein chuckled, smirking in response. “Oh, and by the way… I’m not sure if I should ask this right now, but why’d you mention Maka earlier? Just your usual thing, or did something happen?”

Spirit shoved his face into Stein’s arm in embarrassment, as new tears fell all over again.

He nodded his head, saying, “Somet’in’ happened.”

“Is that why you’ve been gone?” Stein connected the dots, looking down at the weapon’s head.

Spirit nodded his head once more, sniffling quietly. He removed his head from Stein’s arm, rubbing the minimal amount of mucus from off of the meister’s lab coat shamefully, his expression terribly bashful.

“I’ll tell you ‘bout it when we get to my place. Tha’s where we’re goin’, righ’?” He asked in a hushed voice, his hands rubbing at his reddened and sopping eyes.

“Yes, that’s where we’re going,” Stein confirmed with a nod.

……

Spirit tossed Stein his keys, as all he managed to accomplish was fumbling with them.

Stein pushed the door open with an obnoxious creak, Spirit trailing behind him.

“Uh… Do you want some water?” Stein asked, completely unsure of how to properly take care of another. He didn’t necessarily have the desire to, he was just incredibly curious as to how it would all turn out, what happened, and his own ability to take care of a drunken individual.

“Guess I need it, huh?” Spirit sunk into his plush couch, lying down with an arm over his eyes. “Can you get some Ibuprofen, too?”

“Yeah,” Stein said, having grabbed a

glass, filling it with tap water.

After retrieving the medication, he held the glass and pills outward, allowing Spirit to move into a sitting position.

“Thanks,” the ginger spoke softly as he accepted what he was offered, gulping down the painkillers with the lukewarm water. “Don’ feel good.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. It looked like you had drank a lot before I got there,” Stein sat next to him, throwing an arm over the back of the couch.

“I did… Maka doesn’ like it.. But I can’t stop,” Spirit twiddled his thumbs, peering down at them intently. He brought his knees up, wrapping his trembling arms around himself. “Oh, yeah.. I was gonna tell you about that….”

“What happened exactly?” Stein listened to another sniffle escape the person next to him.

“‘Cause she did so well on her exam, I told Blair to find out what her favorite book was and give it to her, along with the card I wrote for her. Blair used the money I gave her, and bought lingerie for herself, and instead of just keeping it for herself, she gave it to Maka without telling her all about what she did. So now Maka thinks I gave that shit to her,” Spirit begun.

“Why not just tell her what happened?” Stein questioned, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow.

“I did!” Spirit exclaimed, raising his chin from off of his uncomfortable knees. “She slammed the door on my face after saying it was a ‘dick move’ to blame Blair!”

“Oh.”

Spirit blubbered all over again, ripping his tie off, shuffling out of his suit jacket.

“Too stuffy,” he huffed, his expression remaining impressively pouty and upset. “I feel hot.. I don’ feel good.”

Spirit suddenly darted off into the hallway, mildly startling Stein. He ran right after him, having a feeling about what was happening.

Stein heard Spirit his the floor, then proceeding to find him sitting in front of the toilet as he heaved aggressively, his fingers gripping the bowl so tightly that his knuckles had turned bright white.

Stein stood in the doorway, awkwardly waiting for him to finish.

“Do you have any Zofran?” Stein asked him once there was a lull in his vomiting.

“No,” he whined back miserably.

Stein spotted a few towels and rags on a shelf in Spirit’s bathroom, grabbing one of the aforementioned rags and dousing it in cool water.

“What’re you doing?” Spirit wondered in his drowsy state.

“Putting a rag wet with cool water on a vomiting individuals neck or forehead can help to alleviate how horrible they feel, because it lowers the individual‘s body temperature, which is often raised to the point of fever when vomiting,” Stein elaborated in a very technical manner as he placed the rag on the back of his pale neck, having to brush Spirit’s long hair off to the side. “Plus, whenever I was nauseous when I was little, my mother would do that.”

“Oh, I see,” Spirit nodded along, beginning to doze off.

“Except she’d also go off and watch TV, and just.. check on me every once in a while. I don’t know if you want me to do that, though,” he continued, glancing in every direction.

“Please, stay,” Spirit pleaded, latching onto Stein’s pants.

“Okay,” Stein found it rather interesting that he wanted him to stay with him.

“Tired of bein’ alone,” he whimpered, his eyes brimming with tears for the umpteenth time that night. “How do you do it, Stein?”

“Do what?” He asked in confusion, crouching down.

“You’re always alone. An’ you seem fine with it. How?” He clarified whilst frowning.

“Well, I enjoy my solitude,” Stein chuckled, not missing the disappointed expression on Spirit’s face at the lack of some miracle solution to all his problems. “And I suppose I’m used to it. I didn’t really speak to many people when I was young. I was pretty isolated, honestly,” he shrugged his shoulders, positioning himself to lean against the cabinet of the sink.

“Didn’t you have any friends?” Spirit inquired, a glint of curiosity in the sea of sadness in his eyes.

“No,” he shook his head.

“That’s depressing,” the scythe furrowed his eyebrows, a look of pity coming to be recognizable on his visage.

“Not to me,” Stein looked over at the male, appearing to be almost confused in a sense.

Spirit inched closer to Stein, approaching him how one might approach a wild animal. He sat right beside the grey-haired man, soaking up having a warm body around before he was to leave.

“Don’t you want to go to bed, Spirit?” Stein wondered aloud, gently retrieving the slowly drying rag from off of his neck since he no longer seemed to be too nauseated, and tossing it into the laundry basket outside of the bathroom.

“Guess so,” he considered the proposition, attempting to stand on his own. He gripped the counter of the sink, tripping over his own feet. Stein followed suit, assisting Spirit with standing and trudging to his bedroom.

The room itself was dimly lit, which was perfect for the intoxicated Spirit. Stein helped the weapon into his bed, lifting the covers and allowing him to slip underneath them.

After Spirit got comfortable, Stein took strides away from the bed, clearly heading towards the door.

Spirit flung his hand outward, childishly making a grabby motion at Stein.

“Don’t go yet,” Spirit begged, his bottom lip jutting outward.

“You actually want me here?” Stein found his request to be almost outlandish, simply unbelievable.

“Yes!” He yelled in response, slapping his previously grabby hand down back onto the silky sheets of his bed.

Stein, the more he gave it thought, realized it made sense. He was lonely, he’d settle for anyone who’d give him the time of day.

“Just don’t dissect me,” he crossed his arms over his chest in a bratty manner, shooting Stein his best “don’t try me” look, though it appeared more humorous than frightening. He looked like a baby bunny trying to be scary, with his tear-stained cheeks.

“I can’t promise anything,” Stein threw his hands up, maliciously grinning.

Spirit yanked a pillow from off of his bed, throwing it across the room directly at Stein’s head.

“Well, excuse me,” Stein laughed, walking over to the bed. “Do you want me to just stand here, or…?”

“You can lay if you want,” he muttered.

He crawled underneath the warm blankets, staring up at the ceiling emptily.

“What’s it like to not care?” Spirit asked with an expression of sincerity.

Stein turned his head to the side, observing Spirit’s face as he stared back.

“It’s nothing. It’s hollow. It’s there. And it’s normal for me,” he responded relatively cryptically.

“Hm,” Spirit hummed in reply, mildly confused, but simultaneously understanding. Hollow. That fit the meister well.

The redhead yawned loudly, his palm slapping quickly over his mouth.

“Tired?” Stein asked, knowing the answer.

“Mhm.”

Spirit closed his eyes, Stein turned back to stare at the ceiling. He could not stand staring at another’s sleeping face. It made him feel oddly violent, and he wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Good night, Stein,” Spirit slurred sleepily.

“Good night, Spirit,” Stein’s voice remained as monotone and still as it typically did.

Was he supposed to sneak out of his apartment once he fell asleep? Was he supposed to stay? He didn’t care either way.

That’s what it was like not to care, he supposed. Indifferent to most, cycling through the same three emotions, often feeling nothing at all. He was endlessly curious as to what it would be like to feel the same way Spirit feels. He’d never be able to satiate that curiosity.

#soul eater #franken stein #stein soul eater #stein #dr stein #dwma #spirit soul eater #spirit albarn #alcoholism #alcohol #maka abarn #hurt/comfort

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