#sorry to put this in the general tags but I DO actually write for all of these animes so-

[shiraishi--kanade]

Bringing this out of the tags purgatory but I actually have had a thought and the thought was Rui & Kanade show event where Kanade has to do Anything besides actually writing the music would be very funny & very interesting because Rui has worked with someone with more psychological limitations (so to say) to how well they'd tolerate being on stage (Nene) and also two people who are just Capable all around and especially physically (Emu & Tsukasa) and it'd be interesting to see him work on a show with someone who generally doesn't mind being in a spotlight but is not... In a good physical shape, putting headcanons aside.

Rui asks Kanade to carry one box to the other end of the he stage for the prep part and she stands up and almost faints, takes 20 minutes to drag the box across and then says "oh sorry I don't react that well to bright sunlight and heat 😔" and Rui just goes "...Well this will be interesting"

[liquidstar]

a friend who'd wait :)

[bratphilia]

overtime (m. schmidt x reader)

request: "Hey ! Just discovered your account and I love your writtings ! I was wondered if you could write a smut and romantic thing with mike ? I dont have any specific context and all its up to you ! <3"

note: ty sm for showing love to my work and for requesting!! i finally was able to write something actually sweet with mike for the first time lmao.

pairing: mike schmidt x reader

tags: small age gap, fingering, missionary

after putting abby to sleep, you fell asleep yourself in front of the tv. you couldn't help it! it was a long night of cooking spaghetti for abby (and ordering pizza, per her request), helping her build a fort, and coloring with her inside it. abby's a sweet kid, but babysitting has always tired you out in general. plus her older brother, your boss, started working the graveyard shift at his new job, so it would be unfeasible for you to not go to sleep during your time spent over there.

you woke up to the chair next to you being shifted in, and open your eyes to see mike sitting there, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. you feel embarrassed that you fell asleep on the job and quickly explain yourself. "i'm so sorry for falling asleep, i was just—"

he looks at you. "no need to apologize. i don't expect you to wait all night long for me."

awkward silence fills the air. well, that settles that. god, he's so cute, you think, even all stressed out and with bags under his eyes. he's also been nothing but kind to you since the two of you met. always concerned with how you're doing, how school is holding up, and just generally about your wellbeing. you try to do reciprocate as it's obvious mike doesn't have a lot of people in his life doing the same for him.

you're the first to break the silence. "uhm, there's leftover pizza in the fridge... you know, in case you want any..." you comment, not quite sure what else to say to him.

"oh! thank you," he says. "did abby ask you to..."

"make her spaghetti and order pizza? yes, she absolutely did."

both you and mike laugh. "i'll make sure i can pay you back for that. you really didn't have to—"

"mike," you interrupt, "seriously, don't worry about it. i understand your situation and i want to help you."

mike looks at you gratefully, almost lovingly.

"y'know—"

"so, i should really—"

the both of you talk at the same time. "oh, sorry, you go."

you smile gently. "no, you go. i was just going to say i should hit the road."

he runs a hand through his hair again, eyes darting across the room bashfully. "well i — uh, i just wanted to say thank you for all you do for abby... and for me. it means a lot. you're very... kind."

your smile widens at his awkward choice of words, but it deeply touches you that he appreciates you. you place a hand on top of his. "of course, mike. i'm always here for you."

mike looks at your hand and inhales deeply through his nose. "will you — will you stay for just a little while longer?"

before you know it he's on top of you on the couch, slamming his middle and ring finger inside you while you bite back moans. "gotta be nice and quiet for me, sweetheart. can't wake abby up, okay? or else i gotta stop and neither of us want that," he whispers to you sweetly.

instead of letting you respond, mike presses his lips against yours in a deep kiss while he continues to finger you. you break apart to quietly call his name, letting him know that you're close.

much to your dismay, he pulls his fingers out before you can come. "mike, please," you whisper.

"please, what, honey?" he teases.

you squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve the tension in your core. "please fuck me already."

mike presses his forehead against yours, breathing sharply as he slowly pushes inside you, inch by inch. you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out as your pussy swallows his hard length.

as he begins to move, he also clearly struggles to keep his noises to a minimum. as a solution, he envelopes you in a kiss as he moves inside you. his pace gradually increases from gentle to faster. the feeling is absolutely delicious.

he can feel your pussy spasming around him and his own dick pulsing too. he uses the hand caging you in on the couch to hold yours as he continues to fuck you.

"feel so good around me, baby," he whispers hotly. "you have no idea what you — ngh — do to me. every time i see you i always think about fucking you like this."

"mike," you moan quietly. his words only encouraged you.

his name becomes a whispered chant falling from your lips as he fucks you through your own orgasm. he's sure to pull out and come on your stomach while he pumps himself.

mike wipes the sweat off of his forehead and sits up so your legs lay over his lap. "sorry for pushing you into overtime," he jokes.

you give a small laugh. "no worries. it was my pleasure."

mike shakes his head at your dumb joke. then his smile fades and he looks at you seriously. "is it... too early to say that i love you?"

you lean up and meet his lips in a kiss as your answer.

[ghstzzn]

saints. ━━ jung wooyoung

pairing(s): jung wooyoung x fem!reader (a dash of san x reader.)

genre: SMUT! MDNI! angst (if you squint)

synopsis: addicted to the sweet taste of hatred, you let wooyoung use you over and over again— even after fucking his best friend. 1.6k words.

warnings/general tags: smut (mdni.), angst like if u squint fr, unprotected sex, mean dom!wooyoung, cum eating (?) rough sex, kind of degradation?, name calling (he calls her a whore twice but one is not in a sexy way), ass smacking, overstim, none really for san except f!rec oral, honestly his scene wasn’t all that intense, it was for plot, they are toxic, not a lot of plot just needed dom wooyoung, he sends pics of u both to san ;) (lmk if that needs an actual tag???)

note: needed to put out a cute little nasty smut to distract everyone from my evil plans!! i wanted to do a threesome (we know how much i fw those) but i got way too into the solo wooyoung smut so 😭 sorry!!!!! // also i tried a new thing in my writing with the sudden scene changes idk if i fw it tho!!

You weren’t going to lie to anyone– you knew exactly how you got here.

With San, the best friend of your ex-boyfriend (some would even call them platonic soulmates), in between your legs, lapping up your juices and praising you as if you were a goddess.

Yet, you weren’t anything close to a god. Not a saint, an angel– you were nothing. Wooyoung’s top priority was making sure you got that through your pretty little head during every screaming match that ended with you fucking the souls out of each other. You would feel guilty for San, but you can’t.

Because he knows.

Sans bruising grip on your thighs tells you everything you need to know. He pushes your legs further apart as he sits up, your release smeared across his lips. You stare at him, breathing heavily as you recover from your orgasm.

“Ride me?”

And with that, you’re whimpering as you force your body upright to ride him. San grips your hips, assisting just enough to help your hips roll against him, his cock hitting that sweet spot so deliciously.

If there were a badge specifically for fucking your best friends ex girlfriend; San would wear it with honor.

Your phone dings repeatedly, enough to snap you out of your fucked out state. You lift your arm to reach for your phone but San is quick to grab your wrist, and within a second you’re placed on your back again as he sets a pace that has you seeing stars.

And it always ends the same.

San is wiping your cum stained thighs, massaging your hips as he does so. You both giggle and tease each other as you dress yourselves.

“See you soon?”

“Get home quickly! It’s cold.”

“Drive safe, baby.”

“Text me when you get home!”

Such domestic, comforting statements that could have anyone’s heart fluttering. Phrases that would surely allude to you being in a relationship with the man who leaves your dorm multiple times a week during the night.

You smile to yourself as you watch your ex-boyfriend's best friend walk towards the elevator, closing your door softly once he enters.

Sitting criss cross on your bed, you grab your phone, checking through your notifications. You pause when Wooyoung's contact pops up; multiple missed calls and over ten messages sent to you.

do not answer him, girl:

are you up? y/n answer the phone please. i just wanna see you. baby? are u studying? can i help? baby come on u read all my messages

you:

don't call me baby, wooyoung

wooyoung: where are u? let me pick u up?

You bit your lip, fingers hovering over the keyboard. You know you shouldn’t. It never ends well for either of you, and your heart physically hurts when you see him or hear about him.

So you do exactly what you shouldn’t do.

━━━━━━━━━

Your eyes flutter open and you breathe in softly as you bury yourself deeper into Wooyoung's hold. You lift your head slightly to study your ex-boyfriend’s face.

It’s moments like this that delude you into thinking everything could change. That you and Wooyoung could work again— to be happy again. To be the couple you once were.

You held onto every ounce of hope you could, because you really did still love him. But at the same time, you held so much hatred for the man holding you in his arms as if he were yours. You didn’t sleep with him last night, he really did want to see you. And this only made it worse for you.

“You’re still here?” A groggy voice speaks up.

You scoff. “Of course I’m still here, Wooyoung.”

He yawns and removes his arms from you with haste, quickly sitting up and running his hands through his hair.

“Why?” You don’t reply to him. Why were you still there? Lingering around you ex-boyfriend pathetically— as if you hadn’t just fucked his best friend. What is wrong with you?

Wooyoung stands from the bed, rolling his shoulders back as he stretches and pops his neck, “You know, when I picked you up last night?”

“What about it?”

“Your room reeked of sex.” And with that he walks out of his room, mumbling something about you.

You roll your eyes and practically jump out of his bed, following him to the kitchen.

“Sorry, didn’t quite catch that?”

He lets out a dry chuckle, “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, Wooyoung.” You stomp in front of him. “Say it.”

“I just think it’s pathetic how you let another man fuck you yet ran straight to me after a few texts.” Wooyoung states, leaning against the counter.

A few texts?

You inhale deeply, “First of all, it’s none of your business who I’m fucking or not. Second, you practically begged me to come over— don’t act like a goddamn saint here”

“You look like a whore.”

“Good one.”

“Get out of my house, Y/N.”

Wooyoung pushes past you, ignoring your presence as he picks up any messes from the nights before.

“You can’t just-“ You run your hands over your face, “What the fuck is wrong with you, Wooyoung.”

He doesn’t respond, giving you a sign to keep going.

“What are we doing here? We are broken up for fucks sake. You sit here and start fights with me but a few days later you’re begging me to come over, Wooyoung, begging.”

He turns around, rolling his eyes directly at you. Your chest only boils with more anger at his childish antics.

“Is this a fucking joke to you? Do you think this is a game?”

“Yes! It’s hilarious, Y/N.” Wooyoung shouts in response, “it’s fucking hilarious that no matter what you’re doing in your life, you will always come back to me.”

“And I'm trying to tell you that you aren’t any better.”

Wooyoung chuckles, “Well aren’t we just perfect for each other then?”

You lean against the back of the couch as you watch him march around his house.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just work.. like try again.”

━━━━━━━━

“F-fuck, Wooyoung!”

You grip the back of his neck as he harshly thrusts into you. Your legs wrapped tightly around him as he fucked you into his mattress.

“Does he fuck you like this? Huh?” Wooyoung sits up, removing your hands from his neck and gripping your face with his own hand. “Answer me.”

“N-no, no, please!” You throw your head back at a particular thrust, clinging onto his forearms.

He groans as you clench around him, readjusting your legs and throwing them over his shoulders.

“So pathetic— like I said.”

He pulls out, but before you could whine and whimper, he flips you over onto your hand and knees, smacking your ass before thrusting back into you.

Wooyoung groans and lets out breathy moans as he returns his brutal pace, muttering profanities and slight praises at you.

“Fuckk, taking me so good. Made for me to fuck you, right?” He smacks your ass again. “Should I record this? You look so- fuck.. You look so pretty. Gotta show him.”

You drop your face into the mattress, Wooyoungs words going in one ear out the other, too fucked out to pay attention.

“Whaddya think? Wanna let San see how good you’re taking my cock?”

Your eyes widen as you choke back a moan. Wooyoung chuckles from behind you, delivering another thrust that has you clenching and releasing around him.

“That make you cum?” He slows his thrusts down, but doesn’t stop once. “C’mon tell me— is he good? He fuck you like this, baby?”

Wooyoung starts to speed up again, drawing a whimper from your throat.

“Ah, pl- please, too much!”

“No, no, baby. Tell me everything.” He whines in your ear, mockingly. “Wanna hear how good my best friend fucks you.”

“N-not like you..” You whine.

Wooyoung lets out a low laugh, taking his fingers and wiping at the arousal and cum leaking down your thighs. He pulls you by your hair and taps his fingers at your mouth.

“He make you cum like this?” You submit once again and take his fingers in your mouth, sucking and lapping at your mixed juices on his fingers. He drops your hair and you catch yourself on the pillows.

“I'm sorry! I- "I'm sorry, ah, please!” You plead and beg with him as he thrusts into you at a brutal pace, tears lining your eyes.

“Awwe, you’re sorry? Wanna tell Sannie that you’re sorry too?” You almost miss the camera shutter click coming from his phone. “Should I send these to him? You look so pretty, my little whore.”

He tosses his phone to the side and grips your hips, tugging you back against him with every thrust. Wooyoung continued his pace as he chased his own high. You’re a trembling, crying mess as he finally cums inside of you, pulling out as he catches his breath.

Wooyoung rolls over to the side of you, running his hand through his sweaty hair and grabbing his phone with his other. He quickly taps away and throws it to the side again.

You slowly sit up, reaching over the bed to grab a shirt before Wooyoung stops you and tells you to wait. He comes back quickly and cleans you up just enough for you to rest without feeling like a puddle of body fluids, he leaves the room just as his phone lights up.

Suddenly you remember his remarks that he made as he pounded into you.

He knows about San.

You quickly grab your phone, seeing Sans's name pop up in Wooyoung notifications. You click the message without even thinking twice, gasping softly as you see a few photos of Wooyoung taking you from behind, covered in sweat and arousal.

You would get frustrated or embarrassed with the entire situation— considering your ex found out you were sleeping with his best friend. Especially right before seeing him. But San’s response only sent shivers down your body as your face started to heat up and your thighs clenched together.

taglist: @yourlocaljonghoe @304files (i know i dont have anything stating, but feel free to comment or send an ask for any taglists!)

(leaving his message up to ur sexy imaginations bc im gen thinking abt a woosan x reader next)

[multifandombookstore]

ok so like ik u can write duncan but can u write alejandro or noah? im simping for them hard :sob:

er, have u ever wrote them b4 is what im asking basically there isnt enough x readers of them on here </3

HI IM SORRY I DIED GHEOHAEF

I mainly write for Duncan but I definitely could write for other chars if requested!! Alejandro is definitely one of the ones I'd write for cause that man is so MMMMM yanno? Noah on the other hand I could not do sorry 😭✋

to make up for taking so damn long to respond, here are a couple lil hcs for f!reader & Alejandro!

similar to Heather, you see right through all his charisma and lies

you smelt bullshit from a mile away and you let him know as much at any given possible opportunity

you were nice and maybe a little standoffish to other contestants, but to him? You were outright cruel

then again, that's what drew him to you in the first place <3

puts his charms on HEAVY when talking to you (or just in general) just bc he knows it annoys the shit outta you and he loves getting you worked up. He'll even say that to your face

anytime he flirts with anyone, you visibly gag (to which he'll just tease you and say that you're jealous which makes you gag further)

you swear up and down that you two are sworn ENEMIES, but he likes to go around and tell everyone that you're secretly dating and to not tell anyone

(this ofc gets out cause no one can keep a goddamn secret to save their lives and oh ho ho lemme tell ya. When you found out he was telling people you two were secretly dating, you gave him a black eye that lasted at least a week)

"My mother has always told me to date strong, independent women." Was his response to you punching him

you really can't win 😭

he can tease and charm you all he wants, but the second anyone else does it? Yeah, nice Ale goes away

this ofc pisses you off cause "I can handle myself just fine, Alejandro."

"I know you can, princessa. You shouldn't have to, is the point." God damn him-

he's always unfazed by anything you do (or at least pretends to be), but nothing gets him angrier than seeing you flirt with other contestants

he, ofc, can't show this though, so he'll just have a private "chat" with whoever it is later

Chris, being the scheming demon he is, will sometimes make it to where you two are on the same team

at first, you are bitching up a storm and he won't stop smiling, but when the challenge actually starts, you two are a monster of a team. Everyone is definitely scared of you two (Owen makes a comment that you two make an awesome power couple and you glare at him)

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

MASTERLIST

More with TDI

Tag List: if you would like to be added, comment or send an ask. Also, remember to tell me if you ever change your username so I can continue to tag you :)

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

[ilys00ga]

You are essentially the best fluff writer for yoongi at this point. I can't put into words how grateful I am for having access to such high quality sweet fluff with literallly no suggestive themes and little angst. I'm someone who hates angst and wearily go through warnings n shit and you are one of the few ppl who is safe to read hahaha. Do you have any similar fluff recommendations from other blogs ? Tysm and kisses xo

hello omg...! 🥹

thank u so much for your kind words. It made me soooooo happy, and I'm sorry I'm replying to this so late.

im so glad somebody is like me!! I found my people <33

I really, really, REALLY loveeee fluff sm. like hello? u can't go wrong with fluff, can u?? exactly. I also don't really fancy reading angst that much, but I discovered that I still like writing it sometimes, which is so weird lmao. but fluff is just... superior, indeed.

and as per your last request, how did u know that i was considering making my very own fic recs post?? 🤨 lol.

i actually haven't read anything lately... but in general, I'm a person who usually leans towards shorter one-shots/drabble and with the tag 'established relationship', rather than reading whole fics and all of that. so here are some of my recently fav fluffy fluff stuff for u to enjoy!

- flowers in your hair (I LOVEEEEE THIS SMMMMM)

- this super short but super cute thing omg (I'd eat up anything this user writes btw. go check their masterlist !!)

- dad!yoongi 😫🥺🥺

- this hand size comparing/difference headcanon thingie omygoddd

- this masterlist (this has different themes and genres tho! but I like so many of the fics in there omg)

- this one makes me wanna cry too, i love it soooo much..

- wishes and kisses

- basketball (this one's cute too).

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

Hi! Firstly, thank you for creating this blog and helping all of us out! Secondly, and sorry if this is such a silly question, but how do you write an engaging summary?

I find my own fic summaries are so… lackluster… and not even I’m interested in reading it — so how I can I expect others to be? Even if I like my story, when I write the summary in the start of my fic/in my masterlist, I’m like “Wow… this is not even remotely interesting! 😭”

So yeah, I was wondering if you had any tips/advice for that? 😭 Totally fine if not, I just figured I’d ask. Thanks and have a great day/night! 😘

HOW TO WRITE AN ENGAGING FIC SUMMARY THAT WILL DRAW IN AUDIENCES

Summaries are the bane of many writers’ existences, including my own. It’s already hard enough to get the words down on paper for the actual story, and now people want you to convince them to read it with something more than “I WORKED REALLY HARD ON IT PLEASE IT’S GOOD I PROMISE!!!!”

Squishing a ton of context into a small blurb seems impossible, but I promise it can be done!

Obviously everyone goes about things differently, and a lot of these tips may not work for everyone, but nevertheless, here are some tricks on how to write an engaging summary!

Here’s a simple template I like to use, which will be the focus of this post:

Hook (Draw the reader in!)

Context (What are the core elements of your story?)

Cliffhanger (Introduce a question/scenario that the reader will want to click to know more about!)

1. Start With a Hook

Just like with the first sentence of a story, the first sentence of your summary should immediately spark the reader’s interest.

A bold statement! A good (short) quote from your fic! A shocking discovery! A cool word definition/the definition of your title!

I always like to put the hook of the story on its own line/paragraph, just to emphasize it.

Examples of a hook (Note, these are rushed and off the top of my head. Just meant to give a general idea, not be literary masterpieces): - "It all started when Character A puked on their Uber driver." - "War was inevitable." - "Character A would be dead by sunrise. That’s what Character B vowed." - "By the time they got to the city, it was too late."

Your hook is probably the most important part of your summary; someone will know within milliseconds whether or not they will continue reading.

Once you’re past that initial hump, it’ll be easier to convince a potential reader to skim the rest of the summary. Giving something that jumps out at them will set your story apart from others and ensure it gets that click you deserve!

2. Give Some Context

For shorter one-shots, sometimes a single hook is enough! But if your fic is longer, with a bit more moving parts, you might want to choose a few highlights. Get the essence of your story on paper.

This can be super hard, so don’t feel discouraged if you feel like you’re not getting it. I’d suggest keeping your context to about 1-3 sentences depending on the length of your story, so make sure they count.

Buzzwords are a key factor in getting the main points across. Use ones that relate to your main plot to your advantage! 

For example, if I were to make a short summary of Game of Thrones for someone who has never watched it before, I would definitely include some of these buzzwords: - Dragons - Conquest - Succession - Revenge - Slaughter - Betrayal

Using powerful words (i.e. slaughtered instead of killed) can help draw in your audience!

I can't dictate exactly how you should write your context, since every fic is different and shouldn't be brought under an umbrella of the same rules, so it might help to find inspiration from other people’s summaries.

3. Pose a Question the Reader Will Want the Answer To

The biggest point of a summary is the “so what?” factor. You have all of these tags, but how does the fic make use of them?

A summary shouldn’t be giving all of the answers, but it should still leave crumbs for the reader’s imagination! This doesn’t mean that you literally need to put a question in the summary, but rather pose an unresolved scenario/problem that the reader will want to click to know the solution to.

Here are some example sentence templates that pose an indirect question, often put at the end of a summary to spark interest (Note, these are rushed and off the top of my head. Just meant to give a general idea, not be literary masterpieces): - "Everything changes the moment Character A makes a choice they can't take back." (What is that choice? How does it affect the other characters?) - "As the truth comes to light, nothing will ever be the same." (What is the truth? How does it change things?) - "A dangerous game begins, and only one can emerge unscathed." (Who will be that person?) - “It’s the first time they meet, but it won’t be the last” (What will be these next instances? How do their worlds collide?)

4. Some General Advice

If you don't think the above format works well with your fic, here's just some general advice that can help you out!

DON'T MAKE IT TOO LONG

The biggest mistake I see writers making when posting their work is having a giant four-paragraph summary for their story that takes up half of the feed.

Unfortunately, in an age of fast swiping and instant gratification, a reader may skip over a super long summary simply because they don’t feel like reading all of it.

(The reason why long summaries work for books is because people are more patient when they intend on paying to read something; they’ll take more time considering investments than they would with a free read, since they want to make sure it's worth their money. It’s not fair, but that’s kind of how it goes.)

In my opinion, a fic summary should be no more than one short paragraph, two or three sentences max for a one-shot and maybe five sentences for a long fic.

This isn't exact. It really depends on the length and complexity of the sentence, because no matter the how many you use, if there are enough words to make folks comprehend it as a big block of text, then they’re going to be more likely to skip it.

People looking for long fics will be more patient (since they’re making an investment with their time, rather than money) but if you want to appeal to a wider audience that may be casually browsing and stumble across your fic, definitely consider a more brief route.

PROOFREADING MATTERS!

Because summaries are often an afterthought, many writers don’t put as much effort into it as they would the rest of their story.

I wouldn’t recommend this; people are basing their ENTIRE initial opinion of your fic on this small blurb.

If you rush it and make spelling or grammar errors, people will assume that the rest of your fic is also riddled with errors and scroll past!

Make sure to proofread!

Hope this helped, and happy writing!

[minustwofingers]

exoplanet p.3

pairing: ellie williams x fem! reader (ur a girly girl in this one!!) (she/her pronouns)

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: (PLEASE READ!) explicit language, violence, description of a medical procedure sans anesthesia, recreational drug use (idk how else to put it ellie gets absolutely zonked in the beginning), reader overthinks asf and is a little neurotic but that's why we love her x

a/n: hey guys! thank you so much for the wait! it's been genuinely insane how sweet and incredible all of you are. i've never felt so appreciated for my writing!! also, some notes: this chapter is heavily inspired by my last relationship. sorry if it's not as immersive bc of it! and also i don't have ANY medical knowledge so...cast a blind eye when u get to that scene

part 1

part 2

tags: @prettyplant0 @666findgod​ @sawaagyapong​ @rystarkov​ @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma

wc: 6.6k

enjoy x

“One more time.”

You gave Ellie a withering look from where you were sitting at the end of her bed.

“Please,” she said, drawing out the s. “Just once more. I promise.” 

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes—a habit of hers that you were quickly picking up—and took in a deep breath. “Fuck.” 

Ellie lost it, peals of laughter bouncing off the walls. “Another one. Say something else.”

“I don’t understand why you think this is so funny,” you said.

“You say it so weird.”

“I enunciate,” you clarified. “I don’t ‘sound weird’. It’s called pronouncing every letter in the word and not having a lazy mouth.” 

“Please,” she gasped. “At least say bitch. You haven’t said that one yet.”

You looked her dead in the eye. “Bitch.”

If you weren’t already certain that Ellie was high out of her mind by the smell of her room and the general haze in the air, the way she howled with laughter and fell back on her bed would’ve made you entirely positive.

This was new. You’d begun to hang out with her in her room after dinner—that was normal—but when she’d knocked on your door smelling heavily of weed once you’d said goodnight to Joel, you were nothing less than shocked. Of course, she had none left for you. Which was probably good, because only a sober mind could navigate a night sitting on Ellie’s bed without doing something really, really stupid. 

“I can’t believe you call me weird,” you said, tucking your feet under her and giving her a pointed look. 

“You’re so lucky you didn’t grow up where I did,” Ellie said, wiping a tear away from her cheek as she tried (unsuccessfully) to rein in her giggles. “You would’ve been eaten alive, good lord.”

“What were you like as a kid?” you asked, resting your chin on your knees. 

She considered for a moment, growing more somber. “Um…I don’t know if you would’ve liked me very much.”

“What do you mean? Of course I would’ve liked you.” 

“No,” she said, swiping at her face so she pushed a strand of hair away. “I don’t think you would have.”

“Why not?”

“I was…” She paused, picking at her cuticles. “Back then I didn’t have anyone. I was an orphan, you know. My parents were never in the picture, so I was the only one I could count on.  I was really rough around the edges and could be nasty. But I probably would’ve ignored you like I did everyone else. “

“Everyone? You didn’t have anyone? No friends at all?”

Ellie blinked, and her gaze remained fixed on her hands. “Basically, yeah. I mean, there was one girl, but that’s…I don’t want to talk about that right now, actually.” 

“That’s okay,” you said, reaching forward to touch her knee. She flinched at the contact but didn’t brush you away. The image of a young, scared Ellie living somewhere alone made your chest ache. “You don’t have to tell me.” 

“What were you like?” she asked, tilting her head and meeting your eyes. 

“Hmmm…” Mirth crept into your tone. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Ellie echoed, her eyes cloudy as she thought. Then a small smirk formed on her face. “Oh god, were you one of those spoiled brats? Were you a mean girl?” 

“God, no,” you said, raising your eyebrows. “Not mean.”

“Then what?”

You paused. “I was really shy, I guess. And quiet, too. I didn’t do much but read for a good 10 years of my life. I used to have awful pronunciation because I would spend more time reading than talking to anyone. But I think I would’ve liked you.”

Ellie shook her head.

“Yes,” you said. “Maybe I would’ve been a little scared of you. I probably would’ve never had the courage to talk to you. But I would’ve liked you, I think.”

“Scared of me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? I was a kid.”

“I was mostly going off of how I felt when I actually first met you,” you said, shrugging. 

She gasped theatrically. “You’re scared of me?”

“No!” you said, smacking her knee. “That’s not what I mean. You’re just really intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” She looked at you incredulously. 

“You’re so tough,” you explained, feeling heat grow in your cheeks. “You seem just—I don’t know, just so capable. There’s nothing you’re too afraid to face, nothing you’re too afraid to say.”

“That’s not true,” she said lightly. 

“Well, of course I’m sure there are things that you’re afraid of,” you amended. “But you hide it so well. You just seem so…fearless.”

“Hm,” Ellie said, letting her head rest against the headboard. “I think you would’ve made me a nervous wreck. If we’d met when we were kids, I mean.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you before. You’re just so untouched.” She winced. “God, no. That sounds gross. I just mean…I dunno. I wouldn’t have known how to act around you. You haven’t had to harden up like everyone else I know.”

“Are you saying I should develop trust issues or something?” you asked, your voice a teasing lilt.

“You know,” she said, nodding seriously, “That is part of it. It was really off-putting how quickly you trusted me. But I guess that’s just a product of where you grew up.” 

“Yeah,” you said softly. “I wonder how I would’ve turned out if I’d grown up like you.”

“Can I be honest?” Ellie asked. 

“Sure.”

“I don’t think you’d still be here if you were me,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “No offense. You just have zero survival skills. I swear that shit has to be genetic. I’ve never met someone more averse to violence in my life.”

You sighed, pressed your hands deep into Ellie’s comforter as a thought hit you. “I think if you’d been born in my position, you would’ve been greater than anything either of us could ever dream of. Much greater than me.”

“Definitely not,” said Ellie. “There’s no fucking way I’m studying the way you apparently do. I honestly think I’d take being an orphan over the study schedule I saw in your bag.” 

She was of course referencing the time table you’d roughly sketched up the morning before you’d ended up in Jackson. It was blocked to the minute, citing the study content and the location of said study session. She’d been beyond horrified to see it. 

You laughed, nudging her socked food with yours. 

“Is there music? In Terranova?”

“Oh,” you said, startled at the abrupt change of subject. “Uh, yeah. Of course. I listened to it all the time.” 

“I used to have a Walkman,” she said, leaning back as she reminisced. She was lying flat on her back now. “It ended up breaking a while ago, but it was like my child.” 

“Have you ever seen a movie before?” you asked, sitting up rigid straight as the thought occurred to you.

“Duh,” she said, giving you a weird look. “Do you think I live under a rock?”

“How many?”

“Hm.” Ellie began counting, ending on her second hand. “I think 6?”

“You’ve seen a total of 6 movies in your life?” 

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to see more?”

She shrugged. “I mean, I guess. It’s just tough to find CDs that are still functional after so long.”

“Hold that thought,” you said, holding a finger in her direction as you stood up.

“Hey!” she called as you bolted out the door. “Where are you going?”

You came bounding back to her room in a matter of seconds, your laptop in your hands. 

“What the fuck?” she said. “Isn’t that your homework thing?”

“Yes,” you said, feeling around for an outlet, “But I also have a ridiculous amount of movies downloaded on this. Our dorm wi-fi is shit and I have way too much storage on this thing, so I just download, like, every movie I’ve ever wanted to watch.”

“Your dorm what?”

You waved your hand. The last thing you wanted to do was explain to her how the 802.11 standard allowed wireless connections a few years after the outbreak. “Not important. Here, come look at this.”

Your laptop roared to light with the help of your charging cord. Quickly, you typed your password in and opened your downloads. Ellie hovered over your shoulder, squinting at the screen with confusion. 

“Here,” you said, opening up the album that had everything you had seen for your entire university career and passing the laptop to Ellie. “Use the touchpad—there, yeah—to navigate. Press to click. These are all movie files that I’ve seen. We can watch them on my laptop. Some of them were filmed in Terranova, too, so they’re post-apocalypse.”

She perused the selection you had for quite some time, the glow of the screen lighting up her face against the dim room. “Okay. This one.”

And thus began a tradition. Each night after you’d finished showering and Joel retired to his room, Ellie would come knock on your door and ask if you wanted to come over. You’d talk for a while, then open your laptop and pick something out to watch. Ellie was never high after the first time, which was unsurprising considering that there definitely wasn’t a way to get any in Jackson. Where she found any the first time was still a mystery to you. 

~

A week or so after your first patrol with Ellie, Joel had taken it upon himself to teach you how to shoot. You were surprisingly not as bad as you’d expected, but the rebound was tough to get used to, and you were still hung up over the whole “killing living things” part. 

Your first patrol—first real one—came quickly, and before you knew it, Ellie was handing you the same gun you’d dropped the first time with a suspicious look. 

“Don’t kill one of us with that thing,” she warned. “Be smart, okay?”

“Sure thing, boss,” you said to her, mock saluting as best you could while you were leading Japan to the mounting block.

She rolled her eyes. “Please act normal or I’ll make you carry around that glorified pocket knife instead again.” 

The patrol began as usual, Ellie leading you down the same path you went last time. It was a beautiful day out, with the early spring sun filtering through the evergreen trees that populated the woods and birdsong filling the air. 

Though conversations with Ellie were getting easier (given that it actually seemed like she wanted to talk to you now), you were still starstruck. Nothing that you did and nothing that you thought could get you to stop seeing her the way you did. You were routinely distracted by everything about her. It was a wonder that you could even function as a normal person around her, much less handle a weapon and a horse. 

You two had nearly made the full rotation when your surroundings exploded in action. 

“Fuck,” Ellie hissed as someone behind you two fired a shot that narrowly missed Shimmer. 

You whipped around, gun in hand, to see two men—two normal men who weren’t infected. One held a bow, the other a gun. 

The one who had fired the first shot never even stood a chance. He was down on the ground seconds after you’d seen him, Ellie’s aim taking him out before you could even ready your gun. 

The second man notched an arrow and managed to draw it back and release into the air right as Ellie’s bullet struck him, sending him falling back. 

“I don’t think there’s any more,” said Ellie, slightly breathless as she scanned the forest. “Sometimes outsiders pull this shit—try to kill us for our supplies. I’ve never seen them this close to the wall, though. I’ll have to tell Maria and Tommy.”

Normally, you would’ve felt up to making some sort of sarcastic comment about how that was a really unconcerning thing for her to tell you and that you actually felt so much more comfortable going on patrol knowing that there were also just run-of-the-mill people trying to kill you, but a twinge in your lower body distracted you. 

Slowly, nervously, you looked down. Air immediately left your lungs. 

“At least we’re done,” Ellie was saying, wiping her hands off on her thighs and slinging the gun over her shoulder. “What a crazy end for your first actual patrol, huh?”

When you didn’t answer, she turned to you and saw the arrow sticking out of your side, 

“Shit,” said Ellie, jumping off Shimmer and reaching you in seconds. “Shit, shit, shit. Oh god.” 

“Am I going to die?” you asked, staring starstruck at the blood escaping the outline of the arrowhead. You couldn’t feel anything anymore. Were you in shock?

“No,” said Ellie firmly. “Absolutely not. Do you need help getting off?”

Before you could answer, she was already helping you down, carefully avoiding the protruding arrow. 

“Listen,” she said, back to being her unwavering self, “We’re right by the wall. I’m going to help you walk in, and then I’ll grab some supplies, okay? Don’t try to pull the arrow out. You hear me? Don’t.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. She helped you walk the few steps to be carefully concealed by the wall, then grabbed the two horses and darted past you, making a break for Maria and Tommy’s cabin. 

In a haze of confusion, you could see Maria running out, holding a box out to Ellie in exchange for the reins of the horses. Ellie said something that made Maria point towards you. She nodded, then ran back to you.

By the time that she’d reached you, the shock had begun to wear off, replaced by the stinging pain from the object that had impaled you. It was worse than anything you’d ever felt before in your life, and it took all you had not to keel over. 

“Hey,” she said, reaching out to grab your face so you had to look at her. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve done this before, okay? I’m, like, the master. It’s going to be alright.” 

“Done what before?” you managed to grind out. 

Ellie let go of your face to dig through the box Maria had given her, producing a needle, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and what looked like a spool of thin thread. 

Horror slowly trickled through you as you realized what was about to happen. 

“It doesn’t look all that deep,” Ellie was saying as she examined the arrow. “So I don’t think it’s hit anything. It’s just going to be a nasty hole. I’m going to pull it out now, okay?”

You let out a strangled scream as she grasped the arrow’s end and yanked it out without warning.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Ellie repeated. She threw the arrow over her shoulder and knelt so she was hovering over you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you gasped. You were most certainly not. You couldn’t quite get your eyes to focus, and your heart was beating out of your chest. 

“Alright,” she said firmly, grasping your shoulders and pulling you up so you were slumped against the wall. “Sit up straight, alright? Also, this is going to hurt.” 

At first there were just snipping sounds as she cut part of your shirt away—then something cool and wet pressed to your wound. You cried out again as a fresh white hot pain bloomed in your middle. 

“I know, I know.” Ellie’s voice was consoling as she reached up to brush away the sweaty strands of hair stuck to your forehead. “Just a few more seconds.” 

“Fuck—off—” you gritted out from your teeth. 

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Just this once.” 

She released the alcohol-saturated cotton pad, throwing it aside and fussing with the thread and needle until she was satisfied. 

By the time her fingers were ghosting over your abdomen again, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the puncture wound and the needle she was wielding. 

“Don’t look,” said Ellie. “Pick something else. You don’t need to watch.” 

“I hate needles,” you whispered, choosing the air over her shoulder to be your focal point. 

There was a prodding at the top of your wound, and you hissed. 

“I can’t say I’m a fan myself.” 

Something pierced through your skin, and your midriff exploded in pain. 

The edges of your sight went fuzzy, stars forming in the corners of your vision. Someone that sounded suspiciously like you cried out. Your cheek rammed up against something solid and warm. 

Once the initial sting had faded, you realized that you’d slumped into Ellie, your face buried into her neck. She didn’t make any move to push you off, instead just taking one hand to brush up and down your arm with a feather light touch. 

“You're fine," she said firmly. "Everything's going to be fine."

Your fingers curled around the hem of her shirt as the needle exited through the other end of your wound, pulling another whine from your throat. It was easier to not feel like you were about to pass out when you were crushed into Ellie, clinging onto her and just focusing on the way she felt against you. 

“Hang on, I'm almost there,” she muttered a few stitches later. You’d quieted down, only letting out the occasional gasp as she pulled the thread through. “You're doing so well. Just one more.”

Now that you were more conscious, you had no idea how she was managing to stitch your side while you were nearly on her lap, but she continued to weave her needle through your skin, pulling it taut. 

“And done,” said Ellie. You felt her take another cotton square to swipe against your skin. 

You laid against her for a few more moments, panting as the shock slowly began to fade. She shifted, and for a moment you were sure that she was going to shove you away, but then the hand she’d lifted hesitantly rested on your head, her fingers parting to card through your hair. 

“How did you learn how to do that?” you asked, your voice muffled from where you were pressed against her. 

“Trial and error.” 

Her joke was enough for you to finally let go, sitting back against the wall. Her hand slithered out of your hair, resting back in her lap. 

“Shut up,” you said. “That’s awful.” 

Ellie shrugged. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, feeling the bumpiness of the stony wall press into your back. “I have a really low pain tolerance.”

“So I’ve noticed,” said Ellie, the side of her mouth quirking. 

“I’ve never been hurt before,” you heard yourself saying. “Like, beyond the occasional splinter or bee sting or accidental scrape or ankle sprain. It’s just not something that happens.” 

“Must be nice.”  

You smiled sadly. “Yeah. It’s not nice being weak, though.” 

Ellie looked away from you then, silent as she packed up the first-aid kit. Then: “I don’t think that’s true.” 

She’d said it lightly, like it was meant to be an offhand comment, a throwaway addition that wouldn’t be remembered by either of you. But the sentiment still struck you, twisting your heart.

You were less capable because your survival had never required anything more. You were weak because you could be. 

Her voice from the night she’d been high floated back to you. You haven't had to harden up like everyone else I know. 

Out here, weakness was a luxury few could afford. 

“Not so untouched anymore, huh?” you said, since you didn’t know how else to respond.

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” quipped Ellie. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t lose sleep over it. I still consider needing to be held to get 4 stitches as being soft. You haven’t changed a bit. No offense.” 

Your cheeks burned bright red. “I—”

“I’m teasing,” she said before you could defend yourself. “Arrow wounds suck. I get it.” 

“Right.” You turned away, keeping your gaze fixed firmly on the ground beside you. With feeling more yourself came the inevitable shame at what you’d just done. What had you been thinking, touching her like that? Grabbing onto her like that?

This was going to haunt you for the rest of your life. 

“Don’t make that face,” said Ellie. “I’m sorry for saying that. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It really is fine.” 

It was not fine. It would never be fine. You wanted the thugs to come back to life and finish you off, and then have the earth open up and swallow you for good measure. 

Ellie probably thought of you as an overgrown child. You doubted that there was ever a point where she could see you as anything equal. If she ever knew how often she appeared in your imagination, she’d probably be disgusted.

She called you pretty a contrarian voice in your head reminded you. Don't you remember?

But maybe she hadn’t meant it. She hadn’t said it explicitly: “Y/N, I think you’re pretty.” She just hadn’t argued when you’d pointed it out. Maybe because she was being nice, or maybe because she was actually being sarcastic. 

“You were really brave, okay?” said Ellie. “Your first armed confrontation and you did well.”

“I didn’t shoot anyone.”

“It could have gone worse,” said Ellie. “You could’ve accidentally shot me. Or died. And neither of those things happened, so that’s successful in my book.” 

“That’s very glass half-full of you.”

“That’s me. Ever the optimist.” 

You snorted.

~

That night, Ellie knocked on your door and asked you if you were up for another movie. You found yourself sitting on her comforter, plugging in your computer and booting it up minutes later.

Physically speaking, it had always been a little awkward to fit two people on her twin bed if they weren’t right next to each other, given that your laptop screen was a very unimpressive size. When you’d first started watching with her, Ellie would rest against the headboard, her legs stretched out in front of you while you would sit with your legs crossed, positioned sideways so you weren’t accidentally pushing her legs off. 

But after the day you had had, your back was sore and your whole body ached. Sitting on something soft without any back support as you angled yourself to look at the screen was quickly proving unsustainable. 

“Pause,” said Ellie about ten minutes in. You’d been watching an older sci-fi flick—Ellie’s choice. 

You complied, leaning forward and pressing the spacebar. “What’s up?”

“Are you even comfortable sitting like that?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Liar,” accused Ellie, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t think I don’t see you ‘discreetly’ cracking your back every 2 minutes. It’s ruining the movie.” 

“Sorry,” you said, shaking your head and smiling in exasperation. “It’s from all the years I spent hunched over a textbook.” 

“You know, you can sit up here,” she said, patting the space beside her. “I don’t bite.”

“Jury’s still out on that,” you said, though by the time Ellie let out a laugh you were already unfolding your legs and moving so you were next to her. 

She leaned forward, grabbing the bottom half of the laptop and lifting it. “Hey, do you want a blanket?”

“Sure.” 

Ellie’s other hand grabbed the edge of her comforter and held it up. 

Hesitantly, you slid your legs under and watched as Ellie did the same, awkwardly holding the laptop in the air before you were both settled enough to rest it on your covered right thigh and her left.  “Better?”

When you nodded, she reached her tattooed arm out and pressed play. The audio picked back up, but you couldn’t for the life of you focus on the movie.

When Ellie had asked if you’d wanted a blanket, you were expecting her to toss the throw blanket that would really only fit one person at you, not invite you to get under the blankets with her. That was significantly more intimate.

You two were sitting close enough that your sides were touching, from shoulder to thigh. You could feel her chest lift with each breath, feel the heat coming off of her.

After a while, Ellie properly laid down, taking the laptop and hoisting it up so it rested on her lower abdomen as she settled into her pillow.

You gulped, your eyes flickering between her face and the screen. Ellie’s gaze was fixed intently on the screen, her eyes half lidded with exhaustion.

You could be tired too. You weren’t, of course—your heart was racing a thousand miles an hour. But she didn’t know that. It was normal to lay down next to her, right? You’d done that with Irena more times than you could count, and it was never weird. Yeah, you could do that. 

Also, if you were totally horizontal, you would stop getting distracted by the sliver of her skin that her crooked shirt showed of her chest. 

In a moment of blind courage, you scooted down so your head was lying right next to Ellie’s. She didn’t seem to react, just extending her hand from under the covers to steady the laptop as it wobbled from the movement. 

Her sheets smelled like the soap that you used to wash your hair—a cottony freshness that had the slightest hint of lavender. 

“Are you going to fall asleep on me?” asked Ellie after a while, her voice nothing more than a whisper. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” you responded, equally quiet. Then, because you hadn’t made enough rash decisions for the night, you angled your head so it rested in the space right above her shoulder. 

She inhaled sharply but didn’t move. On her next exhale a piece of her auburn hair tickled your forehead. 

“How’re your stitches?” she asked suddenly, like she'd just remembered.

“They’re okay. I think. As stitches go.”

“After this is over, I’ll check on them,” she said. “Don’t let me forget, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, suddenly feeling shy. It was one thing for her to cut off your shirt and see your skin when she was trying to save your life while you were mentally gone. It was another thing altogether to pull up your shirt without adrenaline coursing through you.

You didn’t pay any attention to the rest of the movie, instead hyperfocused on the rhythm of Ellie’s breathing and the fact that if you moved just a little your chin would be on her shoulder. 

Her mention of the stitches wasn’t helping at all, either. Now all you could think about was the embarrassing way you’d basically tried to crawl under her skin, burying your face into her and clutching at her clothes like you were a child.

A part of you was disappointed that you hadn’t been more lucid at the time. If you had, you would’ve been able to clearly remember the softness of her skin against yours. You would’ve been able to enjoy it for what it was—the only time you’d be able to touch her like that.

Because you couldn’t go around just grabbing onto her shirt and getting into her lap. That was a one-off, the only time that the rules were waived. You couldn’t touch her like that now, now that you didn’t have any excuse. It wasn’t allowed.

But sometimes you wanted to so badly that it hurt. 

The movie ended abruptly, wrenching you out of your thoughts. 

“Hey,” whispered Ellie. “Sit up so I can see.”

Reluctantly, you pressed yourself up from your back and began rolling up the hem of your shirt. Ellie twisted to face backwards, her thin top riding up and showing part of her back as she reached for the lamp.

Once golden light returned to the room, Ellie turned back and bumped your hands away. She bent over, tilting her head so that she was looking at the stitches straight on.

They didn’t look bad, you had to admit. Though you wouldn’t consider the actual experience of getting the stitches a 5-star experience, Ellie had clearly known what she was doing. The surrounding flesh didn’t look angry or irritated, and she’d pulled the stitches just tight enough without it puckering. 

She prodded at the side, then gave a satisfied nod. “Looks good. What did I tell you? I’m really good at this sort of stuff.”

“I think you would’ve made a really good doctor,” you said once she’d sat up straight again. “Under different circumstances.”

“Is this you telling me that you don’t think I’m a good doctor now?” she teased. 

“Your bedside manner could use some work,” you offered.

Ellie laughed then, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, yeah. You lived. You'll get over it.” 

“Did you go to school?” you found yourself asking, hung up on the thought of Ellie as a potential medical student. If she’d been in one of your intro biology classes, you never would’ve been able to pay attention. That was a fantasy you could shelve away for later. 

“Sort of,” said Ellie, looking down at her arms. “I went to a military prep school run by FEDRA. I didn’t graduate though—obviously. I was long gone by then.” 

“Right,” you said, remembering that she’d mentioned that she’d been 14 when she’d left Boston. “And what was it like?” 

She paused, opening her mouth before closing it. “It was—unkind. Joel's told me about schools before the outbreak. It was nothing like that. There were some normal classes, but most of it was meant to prepare us to be soldiers.” 

“Is that where you learned how to do sutures?” 

“Among other things.”

Terranova had no military academies, given that there was hardly any military presence. The founder of Terranova had bodyguards and there was a police force that controlled the borders, but it was nothing like Ellie described. With invisible borders and a social order that valued peace and tranquility over all else, there was no real danger posed to any of the citizens. 

But from what you had learned from movies and books and comments from older people, you had gathered a very dim picture of what a military academy looked like—harsh, strict, and cruel. 

“I’m sorry you had to grow up like that,” you said. 

“It’s okay.”

“Is there anything you would want to study? If you could?” 

Ellie’s eyes closed. “Yeah. There are a couple things.” 

She did not elaborate. 

~

It didn’t take long for you two to settle back into your routine of meeting in her room each evening and watching one of your downloaded movies. Following the night after you’d gotten your stitches, you wouldn’t even have to ask—Ellie would pull up her comforter and let you slide in next to her without giving you a second glance.

You’d also gotten over the fear of touching her. Now, when you flopped back so your head was on her pillow, you’d adjust until you were nestled into the crook of her neck. She never once reacted to it, remaining perfectly still unless she was adjusting the laptop or messing with the sound. 

Because it was normal, of course. You and Irena would rest your head on each other’s shoulders sometimes. That was something that friends did. 

One night a week or so into April, you and Ellie made a harrowing discovery: there was only one movie left in your collection that you two hadn’t seen together. 

“Damn,” said Ellie, furrowing her brow. “And there’s no way to get more on here?”

“I’m afraid not,” you said, frowning. “To download more or stream one, I’d need either an Ethernet cable or a wi-fi connection. Neither of which function out here anymore without cell towers and maintained cables.” 

“Right,” said Ellie, though her face told you that she didn’t understand a word that had come out of your mouth. “So—this is it?”

“Yeah.” Your finger hovered over the play button. “Savor it, I guess.” 

When you settled back and into her side, the heavy weight of dread settled into your stomach. Now that you’d finished showing her your entire collection, it’s not like she’d have a reason to invite you over every night. And there was especially no reason for you two to lie so closely together unless you were both trying to watch something on a small screen.

Once again, your excuse to touch her was gone.

You pressed closer to her as your mind raced. There was no way that Ellie didn’t see what you were doing as platonic, right? Was it possible that she was creeped out by how touchy you were but just tolerated it to be nice? 

Maybe. You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes fixed on the screen. Ellie didn’t see you like…like that. She spoke to you like you were an obligation, a burden. Because you always had been. You’d been a responsibility thrust on her by a father figure who felt like he was indebted to you from that stupid bag of coffee you were lucky enough to bring. 

Oh, god. Had Joel told her to befriend you? Had he asked for Ellie to pretend like she enjoyed spending time with you and to put up with your privileged, soft-hearted nonsense? 

The knowledge that you were spiraling wasn’t enough to stop you. You did the best that you could—tried to remind yourself that it’d been a while since she’d looked disgusted with you, recall that she was outspoken enough to tell you to fuck off if you did something she didn’t like—but it was to no avail.

Ellie reached forward and hit pause on the movie, thrusting you both into silence. 

“Is everything okay?” she asked after a moment. 

“Yeah, why?” 

“I can feel your heart going, like, crazy fast.” 

You froze. “Oh. Uh, yeah. I was just thinking.” 

Ellie pushed the laptop off of her, sitting up to give you an odd look. “About a near death experience or something? You running a marathon up there? That shit’s not normal.” 

You laughed nervously. “It’s really nothing. Just an, uh, suspenseful movie.” 

Which was actually really stupid of you to say, because you were watching some obscure Tarkovsky film that did nothing but pan over burning buildings and pensive men. For the past 5 minutes, there had been nothing on screen but the back of a car driving through traffic with minimal sound. Also, it was in Russian, and the English subtitles made zero sense.

There was a reason why this was the last movie you chose.

“This is the most boring fucking movie I’ve ever watched in my life, so you’re a dirty fucking liar,” said Ellie. Then her face pinched in worry. “Wait. Have you taken a look at your stitches lately?” 

Before you could answer, she was grabbing a flashlight off her nightstand and yanking the comforter off you. She was pulling your shirt up when you finally found your voice.

“Wait!” you said, grabbing the bottom of your shirt and yanking it back in place. “It’s not—I don’t have an infection, okay? There’s nothing wrong with me. I really was just thinking, okay?”

“About what?” She reached back to place her flashlight back on the stand without taking her eyes off you. 

“It’s nothing important.”

“If you say so.” 

She picked the laptop up and placed it back on her thighs, lying back down. You followed suit, but this time you didn’t touch her, opting to keep as much distance as you could so she wouldn’t hear the stuttering of your heart. 

Not even 5 minutes had passed before Ellie sat up to pause the video again.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No. Why?” 

“You’re acting weird,” she accused, but there wasn’t much conviction behind her voice. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that you’re acting weird,” she repeated, shutting your laptop off and moving it to the bottom of her bed, despite the protests that left your lips. 

“I don’t understand,” you said. “I’m just watching the movie. I’m not doing anything. “

“You’re not watching the movie,” she said. “You weren’t even looking at the screen. What’s got you so bothered? Did I do something?” 

“Of course not.” You pulled your legs under you so your legs were crossed and your back was against the wall. “You don’t need to worry. It’s honestly fine. I’m sorry if I’ve done something to imply otherwise.” 

Ellie rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighing. “You stress me out. You can just tell me, you know? No need to be so cagey. I promise I’ve heard worse.” 

“Don’t be so quick to say that.”

“Okay, now you have to tell me,” she said. “I’m never going to know peace again with a hook like that.” 

You were about to open your mouth to tell her that it was stupid and that it didn’t matter, but something stopped you. 

That was the coward’s way out. That’s what you’d always done—hid your feelings and concealed your emotions. That’s how you’d been raised. That’s how you thought everyone was. But now that you’d spent 2 months in Jackson, you’d realized that some people actually just said what they thought. And that, in the grand scheme of things, it was a better system than the Terranovian culture of superficiality.  

Just because the you 2 months ago would have shook her head and changed the subject didn’t mean the you now had to. 

Maybe this you could be different. Maybe, for once, this you could be brave. 

“I really—” You stopped yourself. Saying I really like you didn’t even begin to encompass what you felt for the girl sitting across from you. To distill the sheer magnitude of your feelings down to four words felt criminal. The swell in your chest that never went away whenever you were near her could never and would never be adequately represented in the puny offerings of the Latin alphabet and the English language, and if you were going to do this, you were going to do it right. 

You dared to look up at her for a moment. She was completely still, her green eyes reflecting the dim moonlight from outside. Once you met her gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull it away.

“I’m really sorry that I’m putting you in an uncomfortable position for saying this,” you began (because old habits ran deep, and you would rather die than be impolite), “And I totally understand if you don’t want to talk to me after this. And I’m sorry for not telling you earlier.”

“As much as I’m sure that this is some sort of cultural cornerstone for you, please spare me the 6 foot long disclaimer script,” Ellie drawled.

“Right.” You gulped. “Anyway. As I was saying.”

“Any day now.” 

At that moment, she had never looked more perfect. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark lighting, so the weak moonlight that spilled in from the window above her created a halo around her head. 

“It’s you.” Your voice came out tiny. “You’re all that I can think about, and I don’t know what to do.”

There. It was off your chest.

For a moment, it was as if you’d suspended time, stopping Earth on its axis as you both held your breaths. There was nothing but silence and the occasional wooden creak of the old house’s foundation in the wind. 

Ellie’s face betrayed nothing, save for something in her eyes and the disappearance of the smirk that had been on her lips moments before. 

Then she spoke, her response whispered.

“Come here, then.” 

final a/n: NOW HOLD ON before you show up outside my dorm with pitchforks and torches 🗣️🗣️🗣️ i'm so sorry but this was a necessary evil as this was going to a massive scene without the chapter break. also a disproportionately massive chapter compared to the other ones coming out. i write very quickly and should get the following part out in a timeframe similar to the first 3 parts. thank u for reading ! tell me what you think abt this chapter while you wait x

[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller's ff) - chapter 5

chapter 4 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 6

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. (it's actually 2004 now)

summary: after what happened a couple of months ago, you are ready to move forward. joel? not so much. he might need a little... prodding.

warnings: 18+, mdni. internal and verbal discussions of feelings, trauma and past relationships. some jealousy (if you squint very hard). porn with plot or plot with porn (however you wanna look at it). again, absolutely filthy smut because i don’t know any better (sorry not sorry). fluff. voyeurism (you spy on joel). masturbation (f and m). oral (f and m receiving). finger sucking. unprotected piv. praise kink. sir kink. size kink. cum eating. a bit of cum play. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. squirting. dirty talk. you are very needy in this one and joel is very possessive over you. soft!dom!joel. aftercare. pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, baby, honey). i'm sure i'm forgetting something lol. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 36. no use of y/n.  joel’s and reader’s pov.

a/n: hiya! first i want to thank you all for the positive feedback this series has gotten! [: i started writing this for myself mainly, and decided to post it here thinking that if a couple of people liked it, it'd make my heart happy. also, i have taken some licenses with joel's past, as neither the game nor the tv show gives many details (you'll understand what i mean). anyways! after the last chapter, our two protagonists (you!) deserve a bit of calm, peace and quiet... right? 😈 as always, thank you all for engaging. i do appreciate any comments, reblogs and/or likes you may want to leave! even asks/requests/side stories if you want to! take care lovelies <3 x

w/c: ~6.3k (sorry?).

tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981

August came around relatively quickly. Tommy had proposed you got closer to civilisation, which meant long trekking trips while the sunlight was still up. Joel agreed reluctantly, as he still thought that was dangerous. You just went along with it, letting them decide ― you didn’t really care where you ended up as long as the Millers were by your side.

Well, one of them especially.

At daytime you barely had time to yourself. However, the story was completely different at nighttime. The second you closed your eyes, snippets of what had happened two months ago flooded your memory. For the first few weeks, the nightmares were unbearable. You would wake up in the dead of night, sweaty and shaking.

And every time you woke up, Joel was by your side. He would hug you while you both laid on improvised beds, no matter how uncomfortable it was. Neither of you would talk, you would just cry in silence while your panic attack subsided ― Joel holding you throughout the whole episode. He had truly been a rock you could hold onto in the middle of a sea storm.

It got to the point where Tommy had started to realise that something was up between you two. Neither you nor Joel denied nor confirmed anything, although Tommy never asked. He would just look away when his brother would attend to you if you fell behind or would offer to do the first night shifts so Joel could be by your side at bedtime.

You were somewhat sure that Joel really cared about you. The way he would look at you… it sent shivers down your spine. The intensity in his eyes was hypnotising ― sometimes you would find yourself lost in his brown orbs, unable to look away. You also really cared about him.

You didn’t want to put a label to your feelings, mainly because you were not sure how Joel would react. You had come to understand that the man was prone to evade any topic about his feelings in general ― physical, emotional or otherwise. You could still not get him to tell you whenever he felt off. Since the blow to his head a couple of months back, Joel had been suffering with horrible headaches, to the point where he had fainted in a couple of instances.

The man was such a closed book you found out about his deceased wife the same way you knew about Sarah ― through Tommy. You assumed he had one or at least a partner at some point in time before the outbreak. The younger brother didn’t give you many details though, not that you asked either ― some wounds were better left untouched.

You liked Tommy a lot. He was a godsend ― so very different to Joel, but so similar in many ways. He was talkative and filled in long silences with stories about how they would cause mayhem at home when they were kids. You didn’t know if they were true or not, but they were entertaining nonetheless. You were under the impression that Tommy was the one who got into sticky situations and Joel was the one who had to fix them.

“I’m gonna go to the lake for a bit”, Joel told you, derailing your train of thought.

“No worries, I’ll get the fire going. Poor Tommy is always the one setting up camp”, you replied with a slight smile.

“Yeah, poor me, relegated to such unsignificant tasks”, said Tommy with a chuckle.

You smiled back and then looked in Joel’s direction. He was frowning at both of you, but quickly controlled his face expression.

“I’ll be back soon”, Joel crouched to look through his backpack, grabbing a couple of towels.

Something inside of you twisted. But you pushed the thought to the back of your head. You had already volunteered to start the fire.

You really tried to focus on the bonfire. And after a few attempts, you finally got it going. Joel had not come back yet from the lake ― it had only been ten minutes, but you were slightly worried in case he had lost consciousness again while no one was around.

“I’ll go check on him”, you told Tommy.

He looked at you with a sarcastic smile.

“Sure thing”, he replied while he started to skin a rabbit.

You rolled your eyes before you left in the direction Joel had gone.

You walked the hundred metres that separated the camp and the lake. The brothers had ensured the area was completely devoid of human existence before they decided to settle there for the night. You were now in Mark Twain National Forest, near St. Louis. You had checked out Kansas City a week ago, but both Tommy and Joel had deemed it too unsafe. So Chicago was your final destination. None of you knew what you would encounter there, but it was worth a try. The wilderness had not proven to be any safer.

Before you got to the bank of the lake, you spotted Joel in the water. He had his back towards you, your eager eyes checking out his broad shoulders, the water level up to his hips. He ran his fingers through his hair, slicking it back.

You stopped walking, somewhat mesmerised, your head slightly tilted to one side with curiosity. In the last two months, you had discovered a new side to Joel you didn’t know he had.

You guessed that what happened that night also affected him in a different way it did you. After he almost decapitated that man, you saw guilt in his eyes when he looked at you ― you still sometimes caught a glimpse of it to this day. As you found out later, that culpability was because he felt responsible for what those men did to you ― he really thought he could have done more. And he did in a sense, because for the next couple of days he hunted down every man in that group until there was no one left to hurt you. Apparently, that was not enough in his eyes, although it was in yours. But as much as you tried to explain that to him, it just wouldn’t sink in. He was so stubborn it made you go crazy sometimes.

Although Joel had been there for you emotionally, he had not touched you for the last two months. You managed to steal a few kisses from him and that was it. He had been extremely cautious with you in that respect. You were relieved he was as you tried to come to terms with what had happened, but after a few weeks it started to feel… frustrating. You were not broken and despite what he thought, you still had needs.

He suddenly looked over his right shoulder, offering you his side profile ― to you, he was gorgeous. Feeling like a child caught causing mischief, you quickly hid behind a tree. Joel looked around, eyebrows touching in confusion, but then he shook his head as if he was imagining things and proceeded to cup his hands in the water to wet his face.

You couldn’t not watch. You instantly realised that was the first time you saw him naked. The last ―and, regrettably, the only― time you two had sex, he was fully clothed. There was something very intimate about seeing him washing up.

You were so transfixed on the picture in front of you it was like the world had disappeared around you. Joel rubbed his skin with a hand towel ― his strong arms, his chest, his back, his lower stomach… Your breath quickened a bit, your heart picking up a pace. Everything about him invited you in ― it wasn’t only his rugged appearance that appealed to you, but also his character.

You started to feel hot. Had the temperature suddenly gone up? It seemed like it. Joel put the hand towel on his left shoulder. When you saw his right hand disappear below the water in front of him, your mouth went dry wishing it was your hand. You wanted to help him clean his manhood so badly ― memories of his delightful cock rocking you into a trance short-circuited your brain.

Before you could stop yourself, you placed one hand on your belly, biting your bottom lip. You finally gave in to temptation, pushing past the edge of your panties. You dipped two fingers in your slit, doing circular movements around your clit. Your eyes, albeit halfway closed in pleasure, could not leave Joel as he kept on freshening up. You pushed down your fingers a bit more, sliding one of them in your needy hole.

You closed your eyes, a half-smile showing on the corner of your lips. That felt so good. If Joel was going to do nothing about it ― fine, you would. Still behind the tree, out of sight, you held on to the bark with your free hand, upping the rhythm of your wet fingers, your thumb rubbing that tight knot in your fold. Then you slightly opened your eyes again ― you wanted to stare at Joel while you came.

But he wasn’t there anymore. You frowned, confused, but you were too busy to worry about that right now. So you closed your eyes again to fully focus on the task at hand. You leaned your forehead against the tree, feeling your orgasm wash over you with intensity. You pressed your lips, suppressing a moan as to not alert Joel of your presence.

“Am I interrupting?”, his soft voice forced you to glance in his direction with starry eyes.

He was on your righthand side, just half a metre away from you. Entirely naked in all his glory, an erection creeping up on him. You were speechless, partially because you had been caught spying on him and partially because you were still feeling the last remnants of your climax, your inner walls crying for something to choke.

“I―I…”, you really tried to excuse yourself, but your voice faltered when your eyes checked him out from top to bottom.

His body was chiselled, his muscles somewhat defined, especially around his waist. He had a pronounced V line with a hairy, happy trail which you avidly followed with your eyes until you were gifted with the sight of his veiny cock. You unconsciously licked your bottom lip.

Your fingers were still dunked in your warm pussy. Joel grabbed your wrist and took your hand out of your underwear, raising it to eye level. Your digits were sticky, covered in your own cum. You should feel ashamed, but you definitely didn’t. Not with him. Joel looked into your eyes, and, without breaking visual contact, he brought your slick fingers closer to his face. With no hesitation, he opened his mouth and pushed them into it, licking them clean. You felt your cunt gushing, eyelids half closed. You could have easily come again for him, but he released your fingers far too quickly for your liking.

“You naughty girl”, he whispered as he pulled you from the wrist to get you closer to his chest. “You taste even better than what I imagined”.

“I didn’t think you were…”

“Aware of your presence? Always, darlin’”, he finished for you.

Your cheeks blushed when he freed your wrist and lifted your chin up. His thumb caressed your bottom lip, his mouth just an inch away from yours. You bowed to kiss him, but he backed up a little, denying you.

“Are you sure you wanna do this, sweetheart?”, he asked, you could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

You nodded vehemently.

“Yes, please, Joel, I really need to feel you, to have you fuck me senseless”, you emphasized, short-breathed.

He seemed to consider your words for longer than what was acceptable. You saw his eyes flying between yours and your lips.

“Please?”, you begged.

Your prayers might have been heard, because he leaned forward, brushing your mouth with his.

“Then go down on your knees, darlin’”, he whispered against your lips.

You silently gasped as your clit pulsed at his words. You were delighted to follow his command, and so you kneeled compliantly.

When your knees touched the grass, his cock was at eye level. You couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. His dick was as big as you remembered, the memory of it filling you up still haunted you. It was so erected now that the tip touched his belly button. Joel looked so strained you thought he had to be in pain. And you were more than willing to help him alleviate it.

You moved your hand forward, but before you could try to wrap your fingers around him, Joel stopped you.

“No, with your mouth”, was his order.

You intertwined your fingers on your lower back and inclined your heard towards him. You gazed up at him, his jawline very tense. You let your tongue out and shyly tapped his glans with the tip. Joel closed his eyes immediately and grumbled loudly as his cock twitched in front of you.

That was all you needed to spur you on. You widely opened your mouth to house his manhood and sealed your lips around the head, the tip of your tongue trying to push open the slit on his foreskin. You played with him for a bit while your jaw relaxed. Then you started to push him in further and further down your mouth, as far as you could take him. His glans pushed past your uvula, you could barely breathe, just as you had imagined a few months ago ― a dream come true. You bobbed your head back and forth, feeling him in your throat, your eyes watering. But you were still not close to have his dick entirely in your mouth ― he was so damn big.

Joel growled in ecstasy as he looked down to you. The sight of you on your knees with your mouth stuffed, bright beautiful eyes, your tongue maliciously inciting him… He just couldn’t believe how giving you were.

“Look at you with your mouth so full”, he said placing one of his hands under your chin. He could feel his own cock expanding your throat. “You look so damn pretty, baby”.

You leaned back a bit, releasing most of his erection except for the tip. With the help of one hand you started pumping his shaft, the other gently massaging his balls. Joel eyed you intensely while you ate him up like a lollypop. His salty flavour inundated all your senses, your eyes pinned on his.

His fingers clenched in frustration.

“Shit, stop, I’m gonna come”, he mumbled as he pushed back to free his dick from your wicked lips.

No way in hell, you thought. He was not about to deny you that. You had been thinking about this moment for fucking months, you wouldn’t let him take that pleasure away from you.

You grasped him by his ass, your palms firmly pressing on his buttocks to take his cock even deeper. You then gave him head as best as you knew how, fastening the rhythm when you felt the pulsation coming from him.

“Fuck, baby―”, he moaned your name as he came in your hot, wet cavity.

You felt his spent hit the back of your throat. It was so tangy and musky. You swallowed all of it. Ah, delicious, you thought gleefully. You let go of his ass and released his dick from the prison of your lips.

You placed the palms of your hands on your knees, still on the ground, and glanced up at him innocently with a sweet smile painting your face. You then opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show Joel you had eaten all his cum ― a bridge of spit connecting the tip of your tongue to his glans.

He dropped one hand to break off the arch of saliva between you and him with his index, and fed it to you ― you gladly accepted, sucking his finger clean.

“Did I do good, sir?”, you asked with a small voice, looking for praise.

“Good? You did fucking splendid, sweetheart”, you beamed with the compliment and got up to your feet when he offered you a hand.

He took your hand, walking behind him as he headed towards the lake. He turned around to face you and kissed you slowly, his tongue caressing your palate. He then took a step back. The sun was setting on his back, the orange and red lighting reflecting off the waterbed. His brown eyes, bearded jaw, hooked nose, his hair curling at the nape of his neck… He looked like a roman God ― Mars, you thought. Joel looked like a man about to fight for his life and yours on the battlefield.

He sat down on a massive flat rock one metre away from the bank of the lake, which was approximately two metres wide in both directions.

“Now undress for me, baby”, he instructed.

You did not hesitate ― all your clothing fell to your feet, piece by piece, while Joel eagerly watched the show you put on. He wetted his bottom lip while he readjusted his cock on his lap. You stood there with dreamy eyes, awaiting. He motioned one hand towards the rock he was sat on, an invitation for you to join him.

Once you were sat on his right, he placed his left hand around the front of your neck ― a very slight touch that forced you to flatten your back against the rock while he positioned himself on top of you. He bit your chin while his left hand put a sweet amount of pressure on your throat. You could tell he was controlling himself.

“My turn”, he whispered, coming off you.

He got off the rock, kneeling on the ground in front of you. You put your elbows down on the rock to lift your torso and be able to look at him, your knees bent, the sole of your feet against the cold surface of the rocky platform. Joel grabbed you by the hips and scooted your ass over to the edge of the rock. Your legs were firmly pressed against each other, trying to hide your quivering cunt ― suddenly you felt shy.

“Spread your legs open for me, darlin’, lemme see”, he commended you with his hands on your knees.

You couldn’t say no to him, you didn’t want to. So you obeyed, dropping your legs to the sides, offering him your dripping fold. He traced your slit with his index, and you moaned.

“You’re so fucking wet already. So receptive, aren’t you?”, he asked looking at you dead in the eye, his finger sinking in between your legs, looking for the entrance. “Who gets your pussy so wet?”, he pushed his fingertip in your hole, and you groaned loudly. “Who, darlin’? Use your words”.

“You, only you, sir”, you gasped.

“This is mine”. He pushed in the second phalange.

You closed your eyes, trying to control your breathing.

“All yours, yes”.

His finger got completely sucked in down to his knuckle, stroking your g-spot. You harshly pressed your lips.

“Exactly, don’t you dare forget that”, his tone was so serious you looked at him enigmatically, not really understanding where that sudden possessiveness came from, but you loved every bit of it. And you were more than happy to put his doubts to rest.

You nodded frantically.

“I would never, sir, I swear my pussy is all yours”, you really meant it.

“As it should be”, he added a second finger as he leaned forward and kissed your mound.

You sighed, eyes teary, and flattened your back against the rock again, as Joel made out with the fatty skin above your clit. He introduced a third finger, all of them rubbing your anterior wall. Then his mouth dropped and sucked in your clit. Your knees trembled while you held both of your breasts, playing with your nipples and biting down your lip to stop your wanton screams. He insisted with his kissing until your wet cunt started fluttering around his fingers, a clear tell you were about to come. He stroked your clit with his teeth, very lightly, sending shivers up your spine. Your legs pressed against his head, tension building up. And then, finally, sweet release. You came so hard on his mouth, and he drank it all.

He unburied his head from in between your legs and glanced at you with a sufficient smile.

“You taste even better directly from your creamy cunt, baby”, you were glad he was so talkative during sex, especially if it was to praise you.

Joel placed the palm of his hand over your mound, his fingers covering your damp pussy, and rubbed with just the right amount of friction. You exhaled slowly.

“I’m gonna make you come again”, he promised.

You pursed your lips, your cunt palpitating at the prospect.

“I don’t know if I can―”, you uttered under your breath.

He raised an eyebrow, almost as if he was offended. Joel grabbed your thighs and pulled towards him; the back of your knees placed on his shoulders.

“Don’t doubt me, of course you can. I said I’ll make you”, his mouth was so close to your moist pussy you felt his cool breath on your damp skin.

You whimpered when his tongue swept your entire slit unhurriedly, from your perineum to your clit, his hand climbing up your body to squeeze one of your breasts firmly. Joel repeated that move a few times ― and your brain chemistry would be changed forever after that. He briefly pinched your nipple while he paid special attention to the core of your pleasure. Joel smothered your clit with his lips ― you closed your eyes while placing a hand over his on your boob.

Joel’s tongue stopped torturing you for a second. He nudged your clit with the tip of his hooked nose and then inhaled your sweet smell. That scent was making him go wild with lust to the point where he started fisting his cock, the tip already leaking with precum. He flattened his tongue against your swollen lips, wiggling it through the slit to touch your needy hole. He could not believe you were this wet for him ― if he had the chance, he would drink from your seeping fold every single day. This was how ambrosia tasted like ― he was damn sure of it.

He placed his hands to each side of your puffy flaps to spread your pussy open, while the tip of his tongue slipped inside of you. Your free hand flew to his head, fisting a handful of hair. Your toes clenched as he started to fuck your hole with his tongue. You felt your whole uterus contracting so hard it was almost painful. Your cum started to ooze out as a new orgasm hit you with full force, yelling his name. Joel did not waste any of it, licking it off you shamelessly.

What just happened ― that felt like sin, the most beautiful sin you had ever experienced. Your breathing was so irregular you thought you were going to have a heart attack. Then you heard Joel snickering as he got back up to his feet.

“See? Told ya”, he said smugly as you placed the elbows on the rock to lift your chest and glance at him.

He was jerking off, his cock ready for you again. You sat back up and leaned forward, your hands on his muscular thighs as you kissed the slippery tip, the shaft, then his balls. You showered pecks all over his manhood, worshipping it.

“S-sorry, sir, can I ask? Is your cock only mine? P-please?”, you asked in between smooches, almost panting, looking at him with puppy eyes.

Joel’s irises were swirling with desire, his hips slightly slanted forward towards your mouth, his dick visibly spasming while he caressed your cheek.

“All yours, yes”, he replicated your exact words, your heart fluttering with contempt.

You smiled at him before licking his testicles again ― your hand pushing his shaft against his lower belly to give you better access. Your eyes never abandoned his as your saliva covered his soft ball sacks.

This time he did step back, and you let him.

“I need you inside me, please”, you murmured.

His jaw was so tight he didn’t dare to speak. Joel could feel his heartbeat on his cock, all because of you and your wanton mouth. You looked so damn beautiful ― on your knees, staring at him through your eyelashes, patiently waiting. He knew you very well by now, fully conscious that as sweet as you were acting now, that was it ― an act. And he loved every bit of it. He liked the way you replied to him when sex wasn’t involved, taking no shit from anyone, your snarky remarks driving him crazy.

Joel sat down on the rock and motioned for you to join him on his lap. You joyfully obliged, sitting atop of him. Your knees to each side of his waist, your bust against his, skin to skin. Your nipples grazed his chest, becoming harder at the electric contact. He cupped both of your boobs and pushed them up, so he could kiss them tenderly. You sighed, your mouth against his ear. Still holding your breasts, he unattached his lips from your nipples to peck your chin.

“Fuck me, darlin’”.

You looked down between you two. His erection was so prominent you knew it was hurting him. And you could ease that pain for him. Heaving, you lifted your hips up and grabbed his dick. It was hard but soft at the same time, velvety, very warm and beating. So sensitive to the touch he groaned ― music to your ears. You hugged his neck with your free arm as you guided his tip to your leaking entrance.

With a sudden drop of your hips, you impaled yourself harshly ― his bollocks kissing your tumid lips. You circled your hips against his, very slowly, which made you both moan in unison. Then you raised your body, his cock slipping out completely. Holding him from the base, you came down on him sharply again.

Joel was close to losing his mind. If you did that one more time, he wasn’t going to be able to hold it for much longer. You seemed to understand that, because you started to rock your hips back and forth, up and down. He kneaded your ass, feeling your rhythm, spurring you on. His fingers squeezed the skin under them while he kissed your collarbone. His mind was completely blank ― he could only focus on your sweet pussy hugging him, choking him. His dick felt so wet, so hot, throbbing for release… You kept on riding him, your movements growing erratic as you both were close to climax.

You surrounded Joel’s neck with both arms, pressing your breasts against his handsome face, your hips flushed with his, as your cunt angrily convulsed around his erection in blissful liberation. Joel held it together while you recovered, his hands still on your ass cheeks, fingers so clutched they were close to dislocating.

“Baby, if you don’t get off, I’m―”, pain smeared his tone. He was really fighting for his life right there and then.

“Oh, sorry”, you said with a small voice, still feeling your own pleasure. You elevated your hips, so his manhood popped out with a squelching sound.

You were not going to leave him hanging, obviously. So you kneeled before him, in between his strong legs, and kissed his tip. Joel sighed loudly when you closed off your lips around him for the second time today and pumped his shaft fast and strong, milking him dry. A minute later, your throat was clogged with his spent. A drop of it trickled down the corner of your mouth.

Joel leaned forward and caught the cum off the corner of your mouth with his thumb before rubbing it on your lips. Then he kissed you wetly, devouring you. He could never have enough of you.

“Thank you, sir”, you whispered with a smile when he was done assaulting your mouth.

He just smiled back. A genuine smile, the first you had seen from him. It tugged at your heart a little.

You were still feeling restless. Although you had orgasmed four times already, your pussy lips were so inflamed you thought you were on your way down to hell. Still on your knees in front of him, you softly massaged your sensitive clit. It was burning ― you suppressed a sob as you glanced up at him, lips slightly parted.

“What is it? Is your tight pussy still gushing, sweetheart?”, he asked you, cupping your chin.

You nodded, tears of frustration blurring your vision.

“I need more, I can’t ― my pussy is on fire, sir”, you muttered, feeling sorry for yourself. You were in a heightened state of sensory overload.

“Let me help you with that then”, you almost cried of relief at his words.

You quickly got up and kneeled on top of his lap again. He slipped a hand in between your bodies to caress your core. Your flesh trembled at the touch. Suddenly you realised you desperately needed to find your own rhythm ― you didn’t have to communicate it, Joel understood it in a second. He stopped and let you do what you had to do. You placed the palm of your hands on his shoulders and started rubbing your pussy against the side of his still hand. You slid your cunt further up to his elbow, and then returned back to his wrist. Your clit greedily welcomed the tingling sensation of the hair on his forearm against your wet slit.

You kept on rocking your hips back and forth on his forearm, pressing hard against it, sliding, rubbing and causing as much friction as you could, the heat in your belly flowing down to your crotch. You buried your fingers in his wet hair and tilted his head backwards so you could rest your forehead against his. Your inner walls contracted extremely hard and then you let go, squirting plentifully for a few never-ending seconds on Joel’s forearm. Your overstimulated cunt was leaking on top of him as if someone had opened the tap of your pleasure and couldn’t close it. When the last wave of your climax abandoned you, you looked down to see how it all trickled down from his forearm onto his lap.

You closed your eyes, content, when he gently tapped your pussy a few times. You breathed in deeply, feeling completely satisfied, finally at peace. Then you pecked his lips with gratitude.

“Better now, baby?”.

“Yes, infinitely better. I―I’m sorry I made a mess”.

“Don’t you apologise for that”.

You both remained in that position for a few minutes ― his now relaxed, wet cock warmly lodged between the flaps of your still dribbling cunt. He hugged your waist to bring you closer to him, his mouth brushing yours in a moment of calmness you had not experienced with him yet.

When his lips released yours, you placed your cheek against his right shoulder, your fingertips tracing the scar on it. Silence ensued, neither of you felt the need to fill it with words.

As much as you fought against yourself, you had feelings for Joel. Although you probably didn’t know all his faces, you knew enough about him to love him. The way he would have you on your tiptoes with his sarcastic comments, his bluntness, his rudeness, the way he would snap back at you when you pressed his buttons ― but also his kindness, his caring side, his softness, how he worried about you making sure you were okay, his demanding sexual needs, the way he made you feel when his hands mapped out your skin.

But you were not sure what he thought about all of this. In some respects, his mind was inscrutable. It was part of his charming personality, you guessed. You kissed the scar on his shoulder as he buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent.

“I love how you smell”, he murmured.

“Is that the only thing you love about me?”, you couldn’t resist, the words just slipped out of your mouth. You wished you could take them back, but it was too late for that.

Joel slightly froze in place at your question. He couldn’t deny that he had started to develop feelings for you. The way you looked at him made him want to be a better person. Although you drove him crazy sometimes, you made his days bearable, a shining beautiful light amongst so much darkness. You were his lighthouse, guiding him to shore. He just needed to learn how to surf through the violent waves before he could safely approach the coast.

Knowing how close he had been to losing you had opened his eyes to a new, unknown reality. He would literally kill for you if he had to ― he had already done it and would do it all over again without blinking. No regrets whatsoever.

But he had some unresolved trust issues when it came to romantic relationships. Joel married Sarah’s mother, Charlotte, when they were both twenty-one years old, as soon as they knew they were expecting. The first two years were very hard on them both, parenthood was not a piece of cake. Resentment had grown between them, to the point where Charlotte had accused him of robbing her of her fun years, which led her to cheat on him. They tried to salvage their marriage for the sake of Sarah, but they never did ― Charlotte died in a car accident while on a heated, angry phone call with Joel.

He locked away those thoughts ― it wasn’t the time nor the place to dwell on the past. Not when he had you with him.

“I… well, no. I love everything about you, sweetheart”, he conceded.

Your heart skipped a beat with joy. No, it wasn’t a love confession, but it was much more than what you were expecting of him. You turned your face against his neck and placed a kiss on his Adam’s apple.

“C’mon, let’s freshen up, I want to clean my mess off you, I do feel a bit bad”, you said with a chuckle.

You got off his lap, the cool breeze touching your sweaty skin. You offered him a hand, which he took, standing up behind you. Without letting go of his fingers interlaced with yours, you guided him to the water. It was cold, but you ventured inside with Joel following you. When the level was up to your waist, you turned around in Joel’s embrace.

You proceeded to wash off your cum and his off his cock, his lap, his forearm. When you were done, he kissed the top of your head. His left hand did the same to you, his fingers caressing your pussy, cleaning the proof of your shared pleasure. He did so not in a sexual way, but in a caring, intimate way. A minute later, you both disappeared beneath the water to emerge a second later, to wash off all the sweat. You found yourself in his arms again, your cheek against his chest ― you could hear his heart beating loudly but steadily.

“Joel, I―”, you didn’t know where to start. There were thoughts you had been wanting to put into words for a while now. “What happened to me sucks and I still die a bit inside when the memories come back at night. But none of it was your fault, nor mine. I do not want those bastards to win, to ruin my life. And my life with you. And I know it will take time to heal that part of me, or maybe it will never heal, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want you. I want you so badly, Joel, but what I do not want is you walking on eggshells around me. I’m not broken, I want to move forward, not get stuck in the past. Do you understand what I mean?”, you asked, your cheek still against his chest, looking up at him.

His eyes were focused on yours. His heart shrunk a bit, sharing your pain. If he could, he would take it away, all of it ― the fear, the panic attacks, the agony, the memories, the nightmares. But he couldn’t change the past. So, he nodded.

“I do, honey”, he whispered as he bowed down to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

You both stood there for a few more minutes, hugging each other in silence. Then Joel grumpily ended the embrace.

“We should get back, Tommy is going to kill us”.

You laughed because it was so true. You both got out of the lake, towelled down and got dressed. You started walking towards the campsite besides him ― your hand in his, fingers entangled. When you saw the tent and Tommy’s outline against the fire, you got ready to release his hand. But he didn’t let go when Tommy turned around to look at both of you.

You tried to hide a soft smile ― and failed.

The younger Miller noticed you holding hands but made no comment about it. But he did smile. A very wide smile.

“Well, about damn time, dinner is almost ready”, he said with amusement, pointing to the rabbit impaled with a stick roasting on top of the fire. “If you took any longer, the rabbit was going to come back to life and run away”.

“Always so theatrical, Tommy”, you chuckled.

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Maths genius (Michael Gavey x Reader)

synopsis: You ask your class mate for a tutor session under the guise of desperately needing it. To his surprise he gets something much better than having to try to teach a girl maths.

warnings: flirting, smut, a bit of dry humping, p in v sex, afab reader

word count: 2.7k

taglist: @fan-goddess @hopelesswritergall

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom/series or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: Writers block still has me tight in it´s clutches, but I´ve watched Saltburn for the first time today and I didn´t want to write on this for another week so here you have my first Michael Gavey fic.

As you walk into the otherwise quiet library the clicking of your heels fills the room. Prompting a few students to turn their heads and look. You don't think much about them as you take a book from the large shelves and spot a person from your lectures. Michael Gavey. So you decide to sit down close to him. You had always thought him to be rather cute. Even if nerdy and slightly off putting, still.

You focus back on the book in front of you. However, in a matter of minutes however your confident posture crumbles to a confused expression.

It takes another while for you to look up from the book in frustration. So you miss the way he avoids eye contact at all costs. Yet you search it out nevertheless.

"Hey, you are Michael Gavey, right?" You speak quietly as to not disturb the other students.

“Uh yeah” His tone is nothing short of standoff-ish and at the same time surprised. It is clear that he wasn’t expecting to be spoken to.

It takes you back slightly, but you continue nonetheless. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to bother you, but we are in the same class."

“Oh, we are. I don’t remember your name though.”

You offer him your name with a small smile. You understand that he hadn't had the easiest time connecting with your classmates, so you made a point to be different from them.

"Say, you are like a certified maths genius. Do you do tutoring?" You switch seats to sit right across the table from him.

A not entirely recognizable spark lights up behind the glasses as you do so.

“Uh… I don’t tutor or anything. Are you having trouble?” His tone softens ever so slightly.

"Yes. I have been falling behind ever since we started the new topic. I just don't get it. At all." You play with a strand of your hair and lean forward a bit in the hopes to make him say yes.

As soon as he identifies your flirting you can see he draws a blank. It's honestly kinda cute.

“Well, m-maybe you want to come over to my place later..." When he realizes that that could sound weird taken out of context, he quickly adds "So I can teach you.”

"That would be just great, but I thought maybe we could meet up at my dorm?”

You take one of your fingers to trace small patterns into the back of his hand. You know you are laying it on thick, it´s visible in the uncertain spark behind the nerdy glasses, lighting up his piercing blue eyes.

“Yeah, of course! Let’s do your room. What building are you in?” The way Michael nods so fast you are scared that his glasses fall off, makes you hide a giggle behind your hand.

"Gimme your hand." You grab a pen and pull his hand towards you.

When you write your room number onto the inside of his wrist, Michael´s eyes lock with yours like a deer in headlights.

“Got it. I’ll be over at 7:00. Will that work?”

"That works perfectly actually. I'll see you then." You give him a wink and strut away with what Michael believes to be a bit of a spring in your step.

“Um... yeah... see you then.”

His eyes follow your retreating form until you are out of sight, before he looks down at your note again, while you smile to yourself. There is only one more lecture separating you from your little `date´.

One lecture and one clothing change later, you are just about to freshen up your lipgloss when a faint knock can be heard from the door. Right on the time that you agreed upon. Michael looks down to his shuffling feet on the ground when you open the door to him, which gives you the advantage of seeing his full reaction to seeing your clothes. Bit by bit his blue eyes wander up over the thigh high stockings, pausing at the pleated skirt and over the oversized sweater until they come to a halt on your face. Instantly any sound of your name dies on his tongue.

“I um… I’m here for the… the math lesson.” He mumbles. It's almost comical how his face reddens as he pushes the glasses up his nose.

The reaction elicits a giggle from you. It is obvious that there will be a lot done tonight, but studying wouldn't take up the biggest part of it.

"Come on in." You take a step back to make way for his tall figure to enter your room.

He nods once as he does so. His gaze getting drawn back to you as he tries to maintain eye contact.

“You look… uh…”

"I look...?" It's kind of fun to see him struggle like this.

“H-hot. You look really hot and it’s distracting.” He quickly looks down so as to avoid your gaze again to hide the worsening of the blush. "So, where do we start?”

"At the beginning, maybe?" You smirk.

“Yeah… good point.” He sits down at the desk while you lean over him.

As he opens your book and begins to explain to you the foundations of the topic you let your breasts graze Michael's back and arm deliberately every now and again to put him off. It's not a hard task, with every brush of your sweater against his shirt, he stumbles over his words. It is palpable that no matter how hard he is trying to concentrate on the work in front of him, your body pulls his eyes away from the book again and again. At one point you even think you can see his length twitch underneath the cargo shorts. Letting this go on for as long as you can, you eventually put on a seemingly concerned and innocent face and lay a hand on his forehead as if to feel his temperature.

"My... You are so warm. Are you feeling well?"

Behind his eyes the wheels are turning in a desperate attempt to think of a clever response, but at this point it is just impossible. As soon as you placed your hand on Michael's forehead, all that comes out is “I-I… uh… I… “

"Come, sit on the bed. I think we should take a break from studying." You gently take his hands in yours to lead him over to the edge of your bed.

A lead without even thinking about it. The urge to just give himself up to you is building rapidly by the second.

“S-sorry. Uh… I mean I… “

"Shhh." You lay your finger under his chin to keep his gaze locked with yours. "Is this your first time?"

"Yes." Michael breathes out.

"Stop me if I go too far..." You murmur against his lips, closing your eyes just before you lean down more for your lips to meet in a feather light brush.

A shiver went through his previously relaxed body and his hot breath hit your lips harder as he kissed back. Your hand that currently holds him by the chin wanders upwards to cup one of Michael's cheeks. His hands begin to slide down the outside of your thigh, suddenly pulling you onto his lap. As he does so, the fabric of the skirt bunches at your waist. The action provokes your breath to falter and to press your body as close to his as possible. Instinctively your lips open further, to allow for a more intense kiss. One of Michael´s hands wanders behind your back to support you on his lap and then, finally, he moves his lips to your neck, giving it a soft bite.

"Oh, Michael." You whimper as his teeth graze your skin. Grinding your core against his lap as a reaction.

His hands wander further up under the fabric of your sweater, cold skin caressing warm skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Don't stop kissing me, please." Your words are barely a shuddering whisper.

His mouth leaves your neck and moves down your body to kiss your chest through the thick sweater. Sucking on your nipples until there are two wet spots staining it. The bundled nerves standing hard at attention, but your sweater is in the way of what you are doing, so his hands wander from just under your ribs further up. With a tingle running down your spine you lift your arms up in aiding him to throw the piece of fabric to the side. Not caring where it lands. You are all too glad to lose it. He too doesn't waste a single second and litters your breasts with kisses and nibbles. This time though, you feel a tug at the hem of your skirt.

The sensation makes your desire for him grow incredibly high. The zipper on the side  gets opened fast and in a swift motion you lift your body off his lap just long enough to kick it aside. There is no time or need for words.

"Your body is incredible." The words hit your skin between heavy breaths as his hands run over your stomach, rubbing tight circles into the soft skin before continuing to wander down to massage your thighs. Michael's lips wander further down your body as well to follow suit. His warm tongue traces down your middle from the valley between your breasts down to just about your belly button. Your reaction to his teasing came instantly in the form of a quiet moan. Which got followed by a knock at your door. Assuming it was just your friend that forgot something the other day, you don't make an effort to stop what you are currently doing. She needed to learn eventually after all, a notion which gets you an uncertain look from Michael beneath you.

But you only place a finger on your lips in a sign to be quiet.

"Shhh" You whisper to him and then thread your hands into his short hair to guide his face right in front of your exposed chest. Something he willingly allows, attaching his lips to nibble at your bosom. Littering it with bite marks and hickeys, tracing every little curve of it. The ministrations get you to completely forget about the knock on the door just a second ago and also the one rule you set after it. Yet at his needy nibbles and licks you can't help being unable to hold back the squeal of enjoyment that sounds through the room.

In a hurry Michael moves his mouth away from your chest and covers your mouth with one of his hands.

“Shhhhh... Your friend will hear us.” His palm lays snug against your face, so as not to let any sounds through. Something that you allow until you get a better idea. Unbothered if the two of you can be heard any longer, you warp your lips around Michael´s long, slender fingers to swirl your tongue around them teasingly.

A shock of warmth goes through his body, making itself noticeable by the way his face burned. When you feel like he had been teased enough, you let his hand free with a wet `pop´

Immediately they get replaced by his lips once more as they catch yours in a searing kiss, at which you let out a most sinful sounding moan.

“Fuck…” Both of you curse under your breaths simultaneously.

By now he has done a great job at making you desperate for more and so your trembling fingers move down to work at the buttons of his shirt. It takes a while, but eventually and with a bit of teamwork, you are able to throw it to the ground as well. Just then Michael leans all the way back until his back lays flat against the mattress. The new position makes it easier for you to grind against him, a chance you use immediately by running your barely covered cunt over the tent in the blond's pants.

"I need more..." A tiny whimper passes Michael's lips. "Need to be inside of you."

At his words your hands stop caressing his body and come down to fumble open the button of his pants. Though you don't entirely grant him his wish yet. The moment is too good to not stretch out. His pants and underwear get pulled down barely as far as they need to, before you grind on his dick again. As you do so, his member twitches up to tease your covered clit, which makes your head fall back and mouth open to make way for steadily heavier growing breaths.

When you lean forward to lock your swollen lips with his again however you move your hips a bit too far. So as you move them backwards again you only have a short moment to process the fact that his cock had slipped past the lace panties and entered your fluttering, wet heat.

“You´re so tight.” Michael can´t fight off or quieten the loud moan any longer, but the complete lack of stimulation after what you had done previously began to get to you.

“Shit. Michael I really need you to move or else I´m going crazy.” Though it wasn´t an ask from your side it also wasn´t a command, yet the blond followed it instantly. His hands gripped your hips tightly and set a slow rhythm by guiding your movements to meet his thrusts.

Both of your moans, groans, whines and whimpers fill the room along with the wet slapping of skin against skin.

”Feels so good, Michael. Feel so good inside of me.” You lean back and prop yourself up on his thighs, allowing you to fasten the movements of your hips.

“I´m not going to last much longer. You´re so wet and perfect.” He mumbles as the flush on his cheeks darkened and spreading over his face until it reached the tips of his ears.

His cock twitches inside of you as if to underline that statement. So you lead one of his hands away from your hips to your throbbing clit. Picking up on your actions Michael's thumb rubs small, tight circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. Reveling in the way your walls flutter even further around his length, bringing him closer to the edge as your noises become even more urgent and high pitched.

“Come for me.” You say when you feel yourself get close as well. It is a whisper at first, but with a little concentration from that hazy brain of yours, you are able to repeat it a little louder. “Come for me, now.”

The blond´s eyes roll back into his head, one last whimper leaves his lips and then the feeling of warm ropes of cum filling your core floods your body. His hips stutter in their movements, but yours are from done. Continuously and relentlessly they drive you up and down on his cock. Soon after Michael you get overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure, forcing you to sit back in his lap as your legs and hips shake from the climax. Swaying back and forth on top of him for a while, before you are able to catch your breath and think straight again.

“Shit…” You hear Michael whisper beneath you.

Looking down at him, you can´t conceal a giggle at how entirely fucked out he looks. His hair is mussed and his glasses sit slightly crooked on that sharp nose. It´s almost comical.

The two of you take some more time to come back to reality and get dressed again.

“I better be going now.” Michael croaks, lingering close to you for a second. Uncertain if he should say what he was thinking. “But um… If you would like to have another study session some time… I wouldn´t be opposed to that.”

“I wouldn´t be opposed to it at all either.” Followed your flirty response.

It surprises him visibly, though he manages to sort himself out rather quickly.

“Do you mean that?” He inquires.

“I surely do. Give me your number and I´ll call you.” It is more of a suggestion, but he gives you his number so fast you almost have trouble catching it the first time. Snapping your phone shut after saving it, you turn to look back at Michael.

“I can´t wait to see you again.” You wink and give a small, alluring wave.

[si1verghosts]

you and me found love (lost under the shade)

re4r leon s. kennedy x fem reader (no use of y/n)

wc: 3.3k

18+ | cw: mentions of drinking, smoking, sex | tw: illusions to suicidal thoughts; author's general preoccupation with death and dying

read on ao3

title: falling asleep on a stranger by pierce the veil | art: taft bridge under the rain [#127] by carmonamedina

a/n: i honestly don't know if i am doing this whole tagging thing right idk how to tag on here so sorry if i missed anything.... anyways, this is the first thing i've managed to finish in months - i did not imagine the first leon fic i'd actually post would be reader insert but here we are!! i hope u enjoy :D

not beta read - all mistakes my own or done purposely due to my general disrespect for the grammatical conventions of the english language.

i do not own leon, yadda yadda, please don't sue me <3

please do not use my work to train any sort of AI chat bot and/or writing generator.

-----

"I can't be what you want," Leon had said, voice even. "Maybe you should try to find someone else; someone who can… be around."

Someone who can give you a straight answer. Someone who doesn't come home bloodied and bruised and can't tell you why. Someone who doesn't make you feel like it's all just a lie. 

You had never heeded any of Leon's suggestions before - "You should go," he had whispered after that first night, and the second, and the third - but you wish you had; so you give it a shot now. 

You let your friend set you up with the guy in accounting at her job she had been telling you about for months. "And get this - he always wears a tie bar! He just seems so put together," she had raved to you over drinks the weekend prior.

Accounting, tie bar, put together. Nice, neat, safe. 

You had shrugged, "give him my number."

He's waiting for you outside the bar when you arrive, jogs over when he notices you approaching, holding his umbrella out over you. It's unnecessary - the cold precipitation is hardly a mist, barely coating the strands of your hair. "You look beautiful," he smiles. It feels rehearsed, platitudinous. You thank him, letting him guide you inside. 

His hand brushes your arm as he helps you out of your jacket, skin soft. You pull away with the shock of it, covering with a small wave of beckoning. He falls in behind you as you traverse the familiar path through the room to your usual spot, settling in before he can manage to make a show out of pulling out your chair.

Same table, different seat; back against the wall - it's a whole new perspective. No longer focused solely on the person across from you, it's as if the whole world falls into your line of sight. It suddenly makes sense why you always found it so difficult to hold on to Leon's attention.

He slinks away to acquire your requested vodka soda from the bar. You pick at your nails until your fingers shake, shifting to look out the windows. The rain has picked up, pelting the glass and obscuring the view. You long for your car and the pack of menthols tucked away in the glove box, nobody to quit for now. 

He returns with your drinks, water for himself - "trying to cut back on carbs, you know? I've been making real progress with my lifts lately." 

"That's great," you smile. 

He leans in, beginning to chatter away excitedly about weights and protein and bicycles and Wall Street. His cologne reeks of business school, of polo shirts and white picket fences and 2.5 kids. You hope you are nodding at all the right moments. His tie bar catches the light of the Budweiser sign hanging behind you, silver glinting red, as if informing you you aren't.

It's hard, much harder than it reasonably should be but you've forgotten how to do this. Leon and you hardly spoke; the silence was easier - until it grew violent from your overreliance. 

You catch the ring of the doorbell over the drone of his voice, a familiar shape of blonde hair and brown leather entering your peripheral vision. You turn, a sick sense of satisfaction slithering up your spine. 

Shoulders hunched and hands shoved deep in his pockets, he shakes off the water droplets clinging to his hair like a dog. He picks his head up, blue eyes and dark circles meet your gaze almost immediately.

You raise a brow, I took your advice; happy?

He spins around, setting the bell off again as he slips out the door. 

"I'm sorry," you interrupt your date, who had been entertaining himself, seemingly never even recognizing your shift in attention. "I'll be right back." 

You are out the door a second later, shoving your arms back into the coat you thankfully remembered to grab, shielding your skin from the rain clouding your vision. Blinking away the droplets from your lashes, you spot Leon making his way down the sidewalk and take off after him, catching up as he nears the corner. 

You call to him, voice near enough to stop him, but only for a moment. "Go back inside," he throws over his shoulder, continuing forward.

You want to reach out and grab him, make him turn to look at you, but his shoulders are set in a tense line. Your touch is sure to set him off like a slingshot. 

Steeling yourself, you dart around him, blocking his path. You find yourself in front of him without any idea of what to say. You gape at him stupidly, chest heaving from the exertion of chasing him down; maybe you should've asked what's-his-name for a good gym recommendation before you ran off.

Leon entertains you for a moment before he huffs, eyes narrowing, "what are you doing?"

It's an excellent question - one you had never bothered to stop and ask yourself. 

What are you doing? 

Why did you agree to go for drinks? Why had you put on the dress Leon had carefully unzipped and let pool around your ankles just a few weeks ago? Why had you asked Mr. Tie Bar to meet you at the bar you knew Leon always popped into after work? 

Fuck. 

You swallow harshly, "trying." 

"Trying?" Leon reiterates, almost laughing. "And what is it that you are trying?"

Normal. To get over you. To make you mad. Honesty. To make you look at me. To make you want me like I want you. Safety. To hurt you. To get you to say something, anything. Trust. To get you to make me stay. To get you to stay. 

You feel yourself frown, the familiar pressure of tears building behind your nose. You try to swallow the feeling but it just mixes with the venom stuck in your throat, bubbling back up after mutating into a bitter twinge of anger. "What the hell does it look like, Leon? You told me to try to find someone else - that's what I'm trying."

He rocks back on his heels, crossing his arms. "Well, it doesn't really seem to be working out, does it?" 

"It was going great, actually." You smile, hoping it's not as hollow as you feel. 

"Oh, yeah?" He cocks a brow, lips pulling into a sly smirk. "Then why are you out here with me?

"You," you huff, at a loss. His words seem to be coming easier than ever while you choke on every one. You shrug, "You looked upset when you left."

"And I'm sure that's exactly what you wanted, right?" His smirk stretches into an acetous grin. "Came to relish in the tears, huh? Sorry to disappoint." He moves to brush by you, but you plant yourself in his path once again. 

"I can't believe-" you start, but stop short. Because you can believe he'd think of you that way - you'd never given him a reason to think otherwise. 

You think back to the silence that had made its home between the two of you, realizing you had used it as a confidant, letting it absorb everything you should've given to Leon instead. 

"I just wanted to check on you, see how you are doing." Your voice comes out as small as you feel under the weight of Leon's gaze. It's ironic - all this time you just wanted him to look at you, and now you wish he'd turn his eyes anywhere else. 

He snorts, short and irascibly, "I don't need you worrying about me."

"I know you don't, Leon," you throw your hands out, rainwater flicking off your skin with your exasperation. "You've made that very clear. But I can't help it - I'm going to anyways." 

"You shouldn't."

"Why not?" You half-yell, half-whine. You cringe at the sound, feeling slightly delirious; freezing cold and nearly begging him to let you care. 

 "Because you can do better." His voice is even once again, feelings stacked neatly away and locked up tight. 

"You don't get to decide that for me," you spit, ears ringing with the echo of your too-loud voice. 

"Yeah," he nods. "I do." 

He steps around you again, intending to disappear down the side street. But this time you grab him, fingers latching onto the slippery leather of his jacket, his arm as tense as a bowstring under your grip. 

"Let me go," he requests without turning to look at you, voice still even, even, even. It's a courtesy, he could easily pull free - but you are sick of his kindness, his courtesies; that's how you ended up here. You don't want them anymore.

"Make me." 

"Let me go," he repeats, slower and thicker. 

"No." If you want me gone, you'll have to force me. You don't say it, but you know he got the message when his shoulders slump, fight draining out of him all at once. 

With the thrill of victory that ripples through you, you make the mistake of loosening your hold on his jacket. He seizes the opportunity, twisting your arm and grabbing you by the bicep, pulling you close. He is running hot despite the chill of the rain, you have to force yourself not to relax into his heat. 

A moment passes, and then another. Neither of you move. The precipitation falls in sheets around you. You can't bring yourself to care. 

Your gaze slides from his chest to his neck to his jaw, backtracking the path of a stray raindrop. You chance a glance at his eyes, finding they are already on you, steely blue shimmering with the light of the streetlamp behind you. 

You love him. 

You wish the ground would crack open, allowing you to freefall straight down to hell. You imagine that would feel better - less painful - than this. 

You love him, and your skin burns with the feeling of it. You want to throw up. You want to kiss him. You want to pound your fists against his chest, curse him for doing this to you. 

You settle for allowing a sob to escape your throat. 

He releases you from his hold instantly at the sound. You scramble to grip his jacket to keep yourself upright - it's pitiful, the teeth of the zipper biting into the skin of your hands. The sharp pain comes as a tether, gifting you the space to ground yourself, to shove the tears back down. 

"I'm sorry," he whispers, tight and clipped. "I didn't mean to-"

"No," you cut him off, voice rough, grating. "It wasn't. You didn't hurt me."

"Okay," he mutters. 

You laugh. You love him and you can't help but laugh, sinking into the insanity of it. 

You feel him start to stiffen again, unsure. The feeling of his discomfort building under your fingers forces you back into yourself, realizing where you are, that you've been causing a scene on the corner down the block from his apartment. 

You release him, but you don't step away, tilting your head just enough to take in the sight of him - parted lips and a handful of freckles, blonde hair tinted green by the neon sign over the entrance of the convenience store a few feet away. 

"I'm sorry," you croak out, drifting back; wishing the rain would melt you down, suck you into the storm drain. That's the only thing that could pull you from him, you think; swirling down the gutters with the cigarette butts and the fallen cherry blossoms until you're laid to rest at the bottom of the Potomac. 

His nose twitches. "For what?"

That I can't find someone else, can't force myself away from you.

That I love you, but can't tell you.  

"For," you throw your hands out, weaker than before. "All of it."

He nods, "It's okay."

You don't want it to be, but you suddenly feel exhausted. Too tired to fight, to pull any more truths from him. 

"Take me home?" You request, you plead. 

He nods again, holding his hand out to you. "Yeah."

You intertwine your fingers with his own, the roughness of his callouses and scars soothing in their familiarity. 

The walk to his place is short. You don't bother trying to shake off the water before entering, leaving a trail of raindrops up the stairwell, down the hall, through his front door, across his apartment to the tiled floor of his bathroom. 

He reaches into the shower, cranking the hot water, allowing the stream to heat up as he helps you out of your wet clothes. He removes the drenched fabric piece by piece - jacket first, then your dress, unzipping it with even more care than the previous time. It doesn't slip off with the same ease, but his gentle fingers pull it from your skin until it falls away. He crouches to undo your shoes, allowing you to step out of them before reaching up and rolling your nylons, guiding them down your legs. 

He moves to do the same with your underwear, fingers resting on the waistband as he glances up to you, silently asking your permission even though he already has it, always will. There's no heat behind his actions, but the tenderness sears your skin all the same. You nod, a low ache settling into the center of your chest as he slides them off you before standing. You unclasp your bra; he doesn't comment on the matching set.

The steam of the boiling shower envelops you as you undress him in turn. You struggle with his belt buckle, stiff fingers uncooperative. He takes over and you drop to your knees to untie the laces of his boots, finding them mercifully secured with single-knots. You make quick work of them and he reaches down to help you up, moving you out of the way before he kicks them off. 

You assist him in pulling his shirt over his head, peeling the cotton away from his skin. You unbutton his jeans as he removes the clips from your hair, wet strands falling limply in front of your eyes. 

"Go ahead and get in, I'll go throw this stuff in the wash." His voice is mellifluous, sickeningly soft. 

It makes you feel like a kid, incompetent and helpless. You hate him for it. You hate yourself for twisting his kindness into something dark and disgusting. 

"I can help," you offer, because that's all you can do; already leaning down to collect your things. "You have to hang the jacket, it's-"

"Wool. I know," his hand brushes your back lightly, "it's okay. I'll be right back."

You straighten up, allowing him to guide you across the bathroom and help you into the tub. You slowly ease your way under the hot stream as he slides the shower curtain closed. 

You watch the shape of him through the cloudy plastic, shucking off his jeans and pulling off his socks. The sobs you had just barely choked down twice before make another escape attempt, clawing at your throat as you watch his shadow collect your clothes and move down the hall. 

You shut your eyes against the sudden emptiness of the room, against the tears and the silence and the panic; against the loathing and inferiority. You take the coward's way out, turning away from it all to hold your face up to the showerhead. 

He returns quickly, rustling around for a moment before slipping into the tub behind you. His presence awards you the bravery you needed to crack open your eyes, to clear your throat. "You're wrong, you know."

Exhaustion overshadows his amusement as he hums in question, "about what?"

Picking your hand up, you reach out slowly to slide your fingers along his collarbone, circle the puckered scar on his shoulder. "That I can find someone better." 

He scoffs, dropping his head, hair fluttering down to obscure his face. 

You move your hand to his neck, thumbing his jaw. "If anything, it's me who doesn't deserve you, Leon." 

He shakes his head, but you ignore the action, continuing before he can protest. "Nobody can take care of me like you do - not even myself. I'm sorry" - for needing you, for burdening you; for loving you even though I'm unworthy of it - "for pushing you. I understand there are things you can't share, but I want whatever you can."

You sigh, shifting your hand at his neck to pull him to you; he follows you easily, achingly. "Even if it's just this." 

He nods minutely, hooking his arms over your hips and resting his forehead on yours. Answer delivered on a breath that floats across your lips, "alright." 

You remain in his arms, his agreement echoing in your mind in time with the beat of your heart in your chest. Seconds morph into minutes, only moving when the water begins to grow cold. 

You wash first, your shampoo and conditioner still on the rack next to his own. Leaving him under the stream, you make your way to his room after wrapping yourself in one of the towels he'd brought into the bathroom. 

Home. You had asked him to take you home and he brought you here, despite your own place being just a few blocks further in the opposite direction of his from the corner you had been on. But his assumption was right; this - he - was home to you.  

The emptiness of his apartment was unsettling at first, but it quickly grew comforting - no regrets staining the carpet; no photos on the dresser of you as a girl you don't remember being. Here you could be untethered from the past you didn't want; white walls graciously offering a clean slate, even if you didn't deserve it, didn't earn it. 

There is a shirt of his waiting on the bed for you, a pair of your pajama pants in the drawer next to his. Your stomach turns at the sight - no wonder he had tried to push you away; you had subconsciously settled into his space, his closet and his bed. 

Your mug in the sink, your pills behind the mirror - the reckless domesticity of it all is startling, terrifying. He had given you an inch and you had taken a mile, too eager for the chance to be something new. 

You pull on the clothes, making your way towards the balcony, a wave of nausea rolling through you under the soft cotton. Outside, it's still raining, translucent ropes sluicing off the overhang of the roof. 

You almost immediately regret stepping outside, feeling as if it's a betrayal of the care Leon took to get you warm; but you needed it. The chill of the air forces your thoughts to line up, to wait to be addressed one by one.

His hand leading you home, your wool coat hung to dry, his shirt waiting on the bed for you to occupy - each act a silent invitation; the realization stirs inside you, grips your collarbones from the inside. 

Could it be…?

You should ask him, but you've asked for more than enough tonight. 

He slides open the glass door, sweatpants low on his hips; the lamp on his nightstand illuminates him from behind, feathering out all his sharp edges. Maybe it's not love; maybe it's just lust, desire - a need so great it's all-consuming. You have no point of comparison to use as a frame of reference, to assist in finding the distinction. 

"I was away for a few days, there's not much in the fridge. Is ramen alright or do you want to order something?" He asks and it's love, you are suddenly sure of it. 

You turn; the sight of Leon in the buttery glow of the bedroom acting as a beacon, guiding you through the terror. "Ramen is fine."

[scoops-aboy86]

🧠🪱Wiggly Wednesday🪱🧠

No one tagged me, I just had a brain worm on account of the @softsteddieseptember prompt “cheesy pickup lines” for this week. But this isn’t really an entry, just an outline that I don’t have the brainpower for right now. 

Steve is an actor who always gets what (who) he wants. He’s kind of been a fuckboy about it in the past, but his best friend and frequent co-star Robin is a good influence on him, helped him come to terms with and come out as bisexual and everything. 

Eddie is a computer programmer with a part time job as a barista, and has what he definitely feels is the misfortune to make Steve’s ridiculously customized latte. 

The latte isn’t foamy enough or something. Actually, it’s just that Steve has taken an interest and wants to get to know the cute barista, likes that Eddie doesn’t even recognize him from his movies at first. 

Eddie says something about his computer programming work, and Steve laughs and calls him a nerd, which does not go over well. 

Steve comes back most days whenever he’s in town, trying to salvage it, but Eddie is firmly convinced it’s unsalvageable, a nonstarter in the first place. No matter how disappointed he always feels on the days Steve doesn’t show, or how much he ends up telling Steve about his life in between rejections.

At some point Robin shows up at the cafe to let Eddie know she’s sorry he has to put up with her hopeless bff’s low-key stalking and that she’s trying to talk Steve into a long filming project in Europe to chill out, so he’ll soon be out of Eddie’s hair. 

Something something, idk, maybe Steve talked about Eddie to Dustin, who works in computers or something and needs a new programmer. Dustin reaches out to offer an interview while Steve is off incommunicado on set, totally Dustin’s own idea, Steve is just the reason he knows how to find the guy. Eddie gets the job purely on merit from that point and gets to quit working at the cafe, all his money problems are now solved. 

By the time Steve gets back, Eddie is close with Dustin and the rest of the kids, Hellfire Club style. They all think he’s the coolest. Also, they end up telling him a bunch of stories about Steve and how he used to be kind of a douchebag but has since grown into a really good dude. And even more recently (which Eddie eventually realizes means since he and Steve first met) has cooled it on dating around and ended up in a lot fewer gossip mags and tabloids, which has generally been pretty good for his mental health. 

Steve comes by one of their game nights and is caught completely unaware off guard. But he takes Eddie aside and apologizes for hanging around so much before. 

Eddie forgives him. Really, the worst Steve ever did was greet him with increasingly silly pickup lines and offer to show him a good time, only to leave with a shrug and his latte when Eddie turned him down again. Always tipped everyone at the cafe well, not just Eddie, and never made him feel like he expected anything because of it.

Steve points out that (*gestures the Party*) most of his favorite people are nerds, he’d just put his foot in his mouth like a dumbass that first day. (He does not mention that he used to get really defensive when people noticed/called him out on that, he’s come so far! Robin is so proud, even though he’s still definitely a dingus.)

Anyway, they start to part on good terms. Just before heading out, though Steve turns with a huge grin that Eddie recognizes and says, “Hey, since we’re starting off on a different foot now, let me introduce myself… My name is Microsoft. Can I crash at your place tonight?” 

Eddie stares at him, then laughs so hard that his face hurts. 

He finally takes Steve up on that date. 

Did I write all that up for the cheesy pickup punchline? Absolutely.

Do I wanna write the actual fic? Nah. So it’s up for grabs if anyone else wants to, just tag me so I can read it someday.

Tagging… idk, my permanent tag list I guess. 😛 I’m stuck in a car for 6 more hours (out of 11), gotta get this pasted in before I lose reception again.

@hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @irishvampireboy @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

[bigball-thefrog]

Hello There!! I was kind of wondering if you could maybe write something along the lines of the reader loosing their animal companion ,like a dog, during a fight or something. And the reader falls into a depression and Sanji or Zoro or any other strawhat tries to comfort them and be there for them. I’m kind of going through something similar and i’m struggling with it :/. But if you can then that would be great, if not it’s perfectly okay.

Hello, I am so sorry for responding so late. A lot of stuff has been happening but thank you for the suggestion, I enjoyed writing it and I hope you're doing better and I hope this can cheer you up a little. I hope you don't mind that I decided to to both Zoro and Sanji (Separately)

Warnings/Tags:

Mention of animal death

Alcohol and getting drunk

Reader doesn't want to eat with Sanji's one

Angst to comfort

______________________________

Narrator POV

When you joined the Strawhats you brought along your animal companion with you, no one minded and in fact, they all loved them! It was fun to have an actual pet around and not just Chopper. They helped relax the mood, they were fun to play with, they were helpful with taking down enemies sometimes. But during one specific battle, you got really injured and despite putting them in a safe place, your companion came to the rescue, and yes they did save your life, but used theirs to save yours. Seeing your animal companions body, you freaked out. Awakening either your haki or devilfruit, that enemy was quickly taken out. But now, the enemy was taken down, the kingdom was celebrating and the rest of the Strawhats were feasting and partying to their hearts content, except for you. You were still mourning the loss of your companion, and your friends wanted to help.

Zoro:

Zoro saw how you were mourning your animal companion and didn't really understand. He made a comment on how you could just adopt a new pet and after receiving a few beatings across the head, (not just from you) he started to think. To him, an animal dying is nothing compared an actual human dying, but now here you were mourning over something he thought could just be replaced. Wanting to understand more about why the death of an animal is upsetting you so much, he grabbed some bottles of alcohol and sat next to you. It was a bit awkward at first since Zoro didn't know what to ask so he just offered you some alcohol. Taking a swig from the bottle, you felt a tiny bit better but not much. After a few more drinks, Zoro finally managed to speak and asked you to tell him a story about you and your companion. You began speaking and telling Zoro about one of your favorite memories with them and Zoro began to understand why you felt so close to your animal.

After the story, Zoro asked for another. Another story lead to another and soon you were surrounded by the people attending the party, listening to the tales of you and your companion. All the adventures before you joined the Strawhats, how you two trained in those two years, and just about any other memory about your animal companion. And it felt good, it felt good to remember your friend, it felt good to tell other people about them and get them to love them as well. Zoro sat back and intently listened to everyone, and now he understood why you were so upset about losing them, animals have their own unique personalities and each one still loves and feels the same way as humans, yes they show it differently by preening or marketing their scent on you, but they still love and feel the same just as humans.

Zoro now sees you companion in a different way. Before he just saw them as a pet that the crew kept on the ship for entertainment, but now he sees that your animal companion was a member of the crew like everyone else.

Sanji:

When Sanji noticed how you kept to yourself during the party, he understood your pain better than Zoro did. He loved your little companion, they provided a morality boost to everyone in general but Sanji especially. He has a soft spot for animals (Despite all the animals he's killed in the show) animals never waste food, and Sanji loved a challenge of coming up with recipes safe for your pet to eat. And it hurt him when your companion died during the fight, but it hurt more seeing you out of character. You just sat by yourself, not even eating or drinking and Sanji wasn't going to have any of that! So he grabbed the best food and drink from the feast, put it on a tray and made his way over to you. He sat down next to you and placed the tray in front of you and sat down next to you. When you refused to eat, saying you weren't hungry, Sanji huffed and decided to feed you himself. Bringing up the fork to your mouth, he gently nudged the food against your lips. You hesitated but the empty growling feeling in your stomach made you decide, you opened your mouth and let Sanji feed you.

After your stomach was full you breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back, your mood had lifted but not by much. Sanji still wanted to help but he didn't know how. Wanting to make you smile Sanji decided to tell you a story of when your animal companion stole food from the kitchen and he had to chase them around. It made you chuckle a little and Sanji smiled, so he went on to tell you more. Soon enough the rest of the crew joined in, telling stories of all the funny moments with your companion. Playing chase with Luffy, Trying to drinks Robin's coffee, Sleeping on Nami's maps, Stealing Franky's speedos, making little noises while Brook played music. Soon the whole party was listening in and laughing to the stories of your companion. You noticed Sanji had become quiet and noticed he had disappeared. When you were about to ask when the doors burst open and Sanji walked in with an entirely new feast of food based on your companions favorite treats. Now with the extended party, you joined in, drinking and eating and telling everyone about your animal companion and how great they were

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

With either side by the end of the celebration and during the days when the the kingdom you were in most likely needed to be rebuilt, a statue of your companion was built, so everyone would remember their bravery to protect their owner and friends, and their compassion to give their life for yours.

______________________________

Once again I hopr you enjoy and I will post again soon

Kelly🐸

[usagichuu]

university!dan heng x reader headcanons

a/n: i uhhhh am back

genre and tags: fluff, modern au, some general headcanons but also an x reader storyline towards the end, first meeting type stuff, dan heng is chinese cus lol

reader: gn, uni student

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

A history major, and one of those ones that can churn out 8 page essays so fast everyone wonders if he’s actually a computer in a human suit. He hops in and out of lectures so fast, his day moves like clockwork. For all his previous classmates care, he probably is.

Has the *absolute bare minimum* in his backpack: laptop. tablet. id. charger. a *singular mechanical pencil*.

+ Has been using the same mechanical pencil he’s been using since middle school.

Brings a thermos to school that he only ever fills with tea. Coffee makes him too buzzy and he’s not a fan of the smell.

Mutters under his breath to himself in frustrated Chinese when he’s stumped. Also whispers to himself in Chinese when doing mental math.

Because he’s always got either a book or his phone in one hand he does that *thing* where he unzips his zip up hoodies by biting down on the collar and tugging on the zipper with his hand. it gets him lots of stares, but he never notices, and if he does, is probably wondering what they’re looking at.

He ended up becoming your library crush. You went to borrow a charger from the library desk on a day he had a shift. You can’t say the library is your most favorite place on campus, but suddenly you started “forgetting” to charge your laptop overnight so you could have an excuse to see him again. He’s started to anticipate your arrival every day he’s on the job.

One day he isn’t the one at the desk when you arrive. You ask for a charger like always and the guy at the desk says they’re fresh out. That’s when you saw him, swooping in and handing you a charger before taking his spot behind the desk. “Sorry about that. late lecture. here.”

That particular day you spent a bit longer at the library than usual, so by the time you were leaving he was off the job. You hand the charger back, and the guy at the desk looks at you, frowning. “Is this your own charger?” You shake your head, confused. “This charger is a personal charger, it doesn’t have a library sticker on it. Where’d you find this?”

One day you’re doing some research in the library, and go to put one of the books you took back in its shelf. A hand reaches out from behind you as you’re about to slot it back in, gently taking it from you. Your hands meet - for just a moment - and you whip your head back around, startled. You think it may just be your memory going fuzzy now, but when you turn around to see him you swear his cheeks flushed pink for a moment. “Um. This is the wrong shelf.” He nodded, and then he was gone.

Weird. Now that you think of it, you’re pretty certain it was the right one.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

a/n: had fun w the last ones so i did another~~~ im happy to take requests rn actually for either dan heng or geppie 😎🙏 (cus im most familiar w them lol)

writing masterlist

[ofallthingsnasty]

Please indulge me with what the life of being arlong’s human pet entails

Gladly 😏 Sorry this took so long, I just couldn't write this without re-reading the Arlong Park arc and Jinbei's flashback. (But I have to say it gave me so, so much inspo for more stuff with him hehe - he just ticks off every violence and degradation box there is, what a character 🤭) anon is referencing this post tw. gn reader, violence, noncon, torture, free use mention, dead dove: do not eat, dehumanization, (inevitable) death, minors dni, read the tags and read them twice

Nothing good, I can tell you that.

I know I talked about being his pet - but really, the term 'pet' is already way too generous. It implies that you’re in some favored position, maybe even loved - and really, you aren’t. You see, Nami is of use to him, is a valuable member of the Arlong Pirates due to her skills - and you? What exactly do you have that could gain you any favors with him? 

Nothing. You’ve got nothing but a too-soft body and a broken down spirit. Entirely useless for his endeavors as a pirate - but perfect for kicking, abusing, tormenting and blowing off steam. (And, he finds, you’re actually a nice example - much better than expected, especially when he parades you around in his towns, beaten and eyes utterly empty. When he’s feeling particularly foul, he makes you crawl in front of the villagers just like the World Nobles do. Just to show those little humans what he’s capable of. Nothing better to make them see how weak they are when he can just make you wipe your feet with your own dignity.) What he likes best about you is your fear, your terror - it’s probably what made him take you in the first place, because you becoming his little pet was more of a spontaneous thing, not planned. (He should have made an example out of you but your eyes... The way you cowered in front of him in nothing but raw, visceral fear was delicious back then and still is.) His personal little punching bag and stress relief rolled into one measly fucking human who does as he says because they’ve been scared into submission by his rampages and abuse. Still, I think he didn’t start out as severe as he treats you now - at first, you were shoved into some corner and unsure what to actually do with you, he just made you clean and serve his crew. To wring some measly fucking use out of you. To have some sort of justification for housing you at Arlong Park - because keeping you like this is just a waste of money. But there is a big difference between scrubbing the floor until your knees are raw to ‘earn’ a living and being forced to lick it sparkly clean with a foot on the back of your head - somehow, you end up down there all the same, each day you spent with him and his crew melting away their (already incredibly small) inhibitions as soon they realized no one is going to stop them from doing… just about anything to you. (And that’s one of the worst parts about this, really. That you’re free to anyone, with just a couple of privileges reserved for Arlong. Half of them spit in your face in disgust, the rest are more physical, for better or for worse.) I think he is a big fan of all things utterly degrading, just to put you in your place for the fun of it: addressing you like you’re an animal and not a person, having you crawl around Arlong Park (naked or not - really, that’s up to him), using you as furniture, strangling or pushing your head into his little pool long enough for your legs to give out - you’re so easily overpowered and always surprised when he catches you, it’s such a sight. And of course, you have other uses as well - and he doesn’t give a shit when he makes you vomit by forcing himself down your throat or you tearing when he’s too rough. You’re there for his entertainment only. It’s like someone giving a kid an inflated sword toy to hit their friends with: once he sees how far he can take it, there is no stopping him. His hatred for humans has few exceptions and you don’t fill any of them, not even when you try your best to be well-behaved. 

And one day, he’s going to kill you, intentionally or not. Like some threadbare teddy bear, your head is simply going to pop off, played with a little too hard, for too long. Be it some nasty infection you caught from a cut too deep or him holding your head underwater for too long or him simply kicking you too hard in the face - whatever it is, you’ll be wishing it had been the barrel of a gun instead.

[peachie-bumblebee]

Hey so this might be weird but would you be able to do some Vanessa nsfw Headcanons? If not, I would also like more glamrock chica content

hi love! so at this time i can’t seem to get much inspiration for Vanessa!! it’s not a weird request at all, and I’m currently doing a rewatch of the OG SB content with my partner, so I will put it right there for when I feel more confident in my writing abilities for that character. for now, enjoy some chica content <3

NSFW HEADCANONS WITH GLAMROCK CHICA- EXTENDED

NSFW MINORS DNI

she’s actually so baby girl

CW: GENERAL KINK DISCUSSION, LIGHT DISCUSSION OF IMPACT PLAY

i’m actually so obsessed with her you have no idea. no no idea.

as before mentioned, she’s a toy FREAK

she gets her toys either through discreet delivery (she has a deal with a worker where if they get it to her no questions asked, she’ll let them hide in her room for good chunks of their shift) or adult customers (aspiring groupies) have caught onto the fact that if they give her ones, she’ll take them

she eSPECIALLY loves when they give her something more custom to her design and aesthetic.

her type is anyone she can find cute. seriously. if she can make them blush once, she’s starting to think about the soonest she can get them into a closet

don’t get me wrong, she’s not the type to initiate first- she’s very careful about it. but if the vibe is there and they’re both receptive, then yeah. she wants them on her dick and sucking her clit!!

chica is a FREAK and i’m tired of y’all saying she isn’t. she’s also mostly a top..

i want you to look at her stretch her arms in that gif. really look at it.

she’s got a little heart design on her pussy front hshsshghjss

and her clit is pink

LOVES fingering. she loves fingering her partners, getting fingered, both at the same time-

she likes to have her partners touch themselves for her to watch across the room. literally put on a show for her!!

thinks its cute when they get shy but always shows them how not to be ;)

makes those sharp giggle-gasps during sex hhh

she LOVES quickies. she’ll show up backstage ready for a show and have been in you 5 minutes prior

i’m sorry but she and Roxy have fucked at least once. it’s just to blow off steam and it doesn’t affect their friendship much, but they’re definitely close

once got caught by a security worker sneaking 3 people in 😭😭😭

as mentioned in Animalistic- she’s very willing to help her friends out for anything having to do with their sex lives

if they need her maze, or a toy, or someone to watch and degrade? she’s down !!

she’s pretty passionate about the guitar so her fingers are literally programmed to help her be quick with them. she will use this to your advantage

CHICA ONE NIGHT IM ACTUALLY BEGGING

she LOVES it when someone gets on their knees to eat her out. loves that shit, she leans back and gets comfy

she’s so so cute during aftercare omg. she’s a cuddler.

she would 100% get her partner some cute lil collar or something with her logo that they could wear

her strap giving style is definitely a lot of hip movement and full, quick thrusts

she just gives good dick. she just does.

she’s so good at handjobs stfu. stfu she is. she’s the type to kinda giggle through the whole thing cuz she thinks her partners reactions are adorable

BAD BITCH WANNA FUCKKK 😩😩😩😩

i’m sorry i feel like i might be the only one but LORD she has me giggling and 🤭🤭🤭🤭

i can see her being into giving impact play, but not too hard at all. it’s more of things that lightly to mediumly sting and slap then anything too extreme in that area

if she’s bottoming she’s still a bit of a power bottom

i don’t see her getting all melty and submissive like that

AINT NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT THO ‼️‼️‼️

her pussy probably tastes like strawberries

i hoped you enjoyed! be sure to comment, reblog w tags and comments, and requests!! it really makes my day <3 love you all!