#to make it more of a discussion; use a vague 'well i know some people have this other view' etc

[longagoitwastuesday]

Kusakabe, dear, you're too beautiful to be saying that kind of stuff

[paging-possum]

3.5 hours of sleep does crazy things to ones brain and by that I mean. Murderbot gender thoughts

[bmpmp3]

(falls to the floor holding my head in my hands) i can't keep making all my ocs the same vaguely eastern european vaguely indo carribean mixed race guy i cant keep doing this

(looks up. eyes glowing red. levitating with unknown power) or can i..................................................

[queerholmcs]

x

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Pay to Play

The last thing I remember is a van pulling up to the sidewalk and two men grabbing me. I vaguely recall a syringe going into my arm and the pain of an injection but that’s all that I can remember of when I wake up. I’m in a dark room, tied to a chair, and gagged. There are several other girls in the room as well, all tied and gagged just like I am. The fear is palpable as we look between ourselves. Some are crying and most of us are squirming and struggling to no avail.

Suddenly, the door to the room we’re in swings open and several men walk in. No one says a word as the men go towards the girl closest to the door and pick her up, chair included. They leave with her, just as suddenly as they arrived, leaving the rest of us in stunned silence.

I feel tears well up in my eyes, the fear and confusion becoming too much for me to process. One of the girls screams behind her gag and another one joins her. A few more join in but no one beyond the door seems to notice and eventually, we all quiet again, each of us trying to cope in our own ways.

An unknown amount of time passes and suddenly the doors slam open again. The men return but there is no sign of the first girl. They head towards the second girl and grab her the same way, ignoring her wails from behind the gag and her desperate struggling against her bonds. They leave with her, just like before.

It becomes a pattern. The men come and take the next girl in line every so often and none of us know what to expect or how to stop it. Soon, I’m up next. It’s been so long since I woke up that I’ve stopped crying already. My arms are sore from being tied up and my legs are numb from sitting.

The doors slam open again and I’m carried away. I’m brought to a room surrounded by lights, the sudden brightness making me squint and blink. When my vision focuses again, I realize the men are gone and I’m alone. I’m surrounded by cameras, and there’s a large screen in front of me playing a live feed of the room, and I see myself. My hair is tangled, my eyes are red from crying, and I look terrified. What’s next to the footage is what makes my blood run cold. It’s a chat box, and I can see the comments coming in. Comments about how I look, about how excited viewers are for the “show,” and how much they think I’m worth. I realize in that moment that I’m being livestreamed and about to be sold off to the highest bidder.

A door opens and a man walks in. He’s wearing a mask that covers most of his face and he has on a microphone that I can only assume let’s him talk to the stream’s viewers.

“Welcome! Our next lovely girl is here with us now. You all know the rules, if you win the auction, you must transfer funds immediately and she will be prepared for shipment or pick-up, depending on your preference. Let’s begin.”

He walks toward me, and I whimper behind the gag, terrified of what’s to come. He pulls out a pair of scissors, and swiftly cuts away at my clothes, pulling them off my naked body and I’m crying now. I can see myself on the screen, my sobs making my body shake as I try my best to curl into myself.

The comments start to flood into the chat box now, people discussing my body, my tits, my pussy. I see bids start to come in too, and part of me is shocked to see the amount of money these people are throwing out.

The man comes back into my view and he’s holding a vibrator in his hand. I wail behind the gag, shaking my head and struggling uselessly in my bonds. He isn’t deterred and I watch as he clicks it on. I’m straining to close my legs but the ropes are too tight and chair too unyielding. He brings the vibrator between my legs and I wail when I feel it touch my clit. He doesn’t give me time to adjust, he presses the vibrating head directly onto my clit and holds it there, letting the vibrations batter me.

I scream behind the gag as I feel the sensation overwhelm me. At first, the fear dampened any pleasure but as the seconds dragged on and the vibrator stayed pressed up against my most delicate area, I could feel my body reacting. Waves of stimulation crash over me and I can feel the first inklings of an orgasm starting to build. The man keeps the horrible vibrator on my pulsing clit and my tears are now in response to the unbearable pleasure that I never wanted, and certainly not like this.

The vibrator pushes my body closer and closer to a wrecking orgasm, and I can’t do anything other than feel it happen. I arch my back and squirm as much as I can when the incomprehensible pleasure crescendos and I shatter. I can feel my pussy clenching around nothing and gushing out my release, my clit pulsing in time to my heartbeat, and my mind fading to a haze of pleasure and pain as the vibrator continues to ravage me.

“Orgasm in one minute and 37 seconds, and she’s a squirter,” the man announces matter-of-factly. “Let’s see how hard we can push her.”

I look up from tear-blurred eyes, seeing the comments flood in on the chat box on screen. I’ve always been sensitive post-orgasm and the fact that the man hasn’t pulled away the vibrator is pushing me into a painful overstimulation that’s making my stomach clench in fear. He reaches down with his free hand and maneuvering around the vibrator to pull back the soft skin that normally surrounds my clit, protecting it. My eyes widen and I let out a guttural scream behind the gag as the overwhelming, horrible vibrator now decimates my clit with nothing to soften the nerve-fraying stimulation.

I feel my eyes roll up into my head and my body is thrown into a second orgasm with no preparation. Just pure, unstoppable pleasure that burns every single nerve in my body. I can’t even breathe or scream or cry as my entire being is locked in a soul-shattering explosion that seems to go on forever.

I have no idea how much time passes or how many orgasms that terrible pleasure is able to tear from my body before the vibrator finally moves away. I’m shaking, crying, gasping for air and my clit is burning and twitching from the continued stimulation.

When I finally gather myself enough to open my eyes and see the on-screen chat box, I feel my heart stutter when I read some of the things people are saying.

“Fuck, she’s hot like that, I wonder if she’d survive a day strapped to a fucking machine.”

“I want to string her up and see how good of a whipping she could handle before she begs.”

“Her little clitty looks perfect for a piercing, and I could run electricity through it and really make her scream and cum.”

That last one makes me whimper and I pull my attention away from the screen, hoping that this nightmare is almost over.

“Now for a change of pace,” the man says from across the room. My eyes dart over to him and see that the men who’d brought me here are back again, rolling in a different chair, this one built like a gynecologist’s exam table with stirrups. I shake slightly in fear as they approach me and untie me before manhandling me into the exam chair. I’m too weak to even resist as they strap my body down, my feet going into the stirrups and my legs, arms, and body immobilized with straps.

The men leave and I look up at the livestream of myself, seeing how fear has made my eyes wide with gruesome anticipation. I can see clearly in the video, my clit looking so red and angry while my pussy still drips from the torment of pleasure they’d subjected me to moments before. I watch as the masked man approaches me, wheeling over a tray containing more horrible toys and devices.

He pulls a metal speculum off the tray and comes to stand before me. I’m shaking with terror, desperately trying to beg from behind the gag. He’s uncaring as he slides the device against my pussy, pushing the cold, hard metal inside of me. My back arches as my pussy fills and I whine, wishing that I didn’t find this violation pleasurable.

The man starts to crank the handle of the device, the motion forcing the speculum to open me up. I can’t help but moan, feeling an unbearable fullness start to build as the device pushes my pussy wide open. Eventually, he stops and takes a step back.

I watch through the livestream as he grabs a long, thin wand from the tray and comes back. I can feel my pussy pulsing around the speculum holding me open, and I know there’s nothing I can do to prevent whatever deranged thing he plans on doing next.

“Let’s see how she reacts to some internal stimulation.”

Without any other warning, the man slides the thin wand into me and presses a button that makes it start emitting a low pulsing vibration. He brushes against the walls of my pussy and I shake at the onslaught of pleasure. The speculum gives him easy, perfect access and the thin wand means he has every bit of precision at his disposal as he targets my most vulnerable places.

I choke on a gasp when he finds my g-spot and presses into it with heart-stopping accuracy. I feel my toes curl and my eyes roll to the back of my head as painful, unbearable pleasure overwhelms me. He turns up the wand to an unimaginable intensity and drives it into the tenderness of my pussy. I cum immediately. My pussy gushes and my juices flood out of me as the pleasure ravages my body with no mercy.

Just like with my clit, the man doesn’t let up. I’m locked in this impossible pleasure and overstimulation as my vision goes white and my body feels ripped to shreds by every orgasm that pours out of me.

When he finally stops, I don’t even feel human anymore. My mind is empty, there is absolutely nothing left other than the pure pleasure that laid waste to my entire being. I’m vaguely aware of the man announcing final call for bids but I’m too incoherent to really register what is going on around me. Suddenly, I feel a prick on my arm and slowly turn my head to watch a syringe pull out of my arm. My head spins and I feel sleep encroaching on my mind.

Just before my darkness overwhelms my vision and I sink into unconsciousness, I catch a glance of the screen and see how much money was spent on me. There’s a muted sense of astonishment. It’s more money than I could even fathom, more than I could make in a lifetime. And someone just spent it on me, in exchange for my complete ownership.

[ellecdc]

hey, love! sooo i have a request (and im more than willing to wait for it, absolutely no rush). i'm having surgery in a couple weeks and it's nothing like life threatening or super serious but it's still a little scary and it's something that's going to make my very stubbornly independent self need to be dependent on other people for like two or three months. so i was wondering if you could do stubborn/independent reader in recovery, being taken care of by remus and or regulus cause i know they'd be very sweet and maybe a bit too helpful, like maybe reader even tries to do things that they aren't ready for yet because it's frustrating needing to rely on others but theres reassurance that it's fine to need help and it's better to take the help in order to have a quicker and better recovery. wanted to keep details vague so you can work your magic but i hope at least a little inspiring

lot of love!!! 🫶🫶🫶

best of luck with your surgery, love! hope it all goes well <3

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who is recovering from surgery not at all gracefully

CW: reader is stubbornly independent, discussion of surgery/post-op aftercare/stitches and incisions, fluff and comfort

By some absolute twist of fate, you’d actually been left alone for the first time in nearly five days.

You were unbelievably thankful for your two sweet, sweet boyfriends and the amount of care they treated you with.

But however thankful you were for your two sweet, sweet boyfriends, you were also quite fed up with their coddling. 

You’re not sure what exactly it was that finally got them to leave you alone; it could have been your sharp tone when you told Regulus you didn’t want your pillows fluffed again, or the withering glare you gave Remus when he poked his head in to ask if you needed “anything else at all, sweet girl”, but you were almost certain it was when you finally dissolved into frustrated tears.

And so, five days after your appendectomy, you were finally, blissfully alone. 

You had tissues on the bed beside you, the largest bottle of water Regulus could find on the bedside table, your books, the TV remote, and some crisps at your disposal. 

It was heavenly.

But you know what would be even better? Ice cream. 

In the two days you spent in hospital following your procedure, Regulus had to have spent nearly half your monthly rent on food, snacks, blankets, and other “post-surgery supplies” - which included the largest refillable water bottle you’d ever seen in your entire life. 

It also included ice cream. 

And while the boys had left the majority of your post-surgery supplies within your reach upon their retreat from your bedroom, ice cream could not, for obvious reasons, be left in your bedroom for your easy access.

But what were you going to do? Call them? Ask them to come bring you ice cream? And have to live with their smug ‘haha, see, you do need us’ faces? Well, that certainly wouldn’t do. 

It had been four days since your surgery which left you with perhaps nothing more than a few teeny incisions along your stomach that they slapped a measly piece of tape over to keep shut - like hell that was going to slow you down. 

So, you pushed your blankets off yourself with minimal effort. You took a deep breath and held it as you swiveled your hips so that your legs were hanging off the bed, letting it out as you twisted your torso to realign your body correctly. Not so bad, right?

You braced yourself again as you slid slowly off the bed, once again letting a lung-full of air out as your feet hit the ground.

Feeling quite chuffed at your accomplishment and unjustifiably confident that the hardest part was now over, you started on your task of retrieving ice cream. 

You reminded yourself as you shuffled down the hallway that the doctor had said that walking each day was in fact good for your recovery, though you were certain that supporting yourself along the wall and unsupervised isn’t exactly what she had in mind when she gave you those instructions.

No matter, you were completely capable!

So capable.

The most capable.

And a measly case of stairs wasn’t going to change that. 

You tried to recite the aftercare instructions the doctor had given you prior to being discharged, though you were admittedly still feeling a little drowsy at the time and it had been Remus who took dutiful notes as Regulus packed your bag.

Staring at the case of stairs that threatened your master plan of retrieving your well-deserved ice cream - in your most humble opinion, you did sacrifice an organ for it - you decided that if you couldn’t remember the doctor saying no stairs, that stairs were probably fine.

Likely fine.

Mostly fine.

Except the very first step you took had you flinching at the sensation of the tape tugging uncomfortably at your skin.

But once your other foot joined your first on the step, the feeling went away.

Okay, see? That was fine.

Not so bad.

Now you just have to do that… thirteen more times.

Thirteen…that felt like a lot.

But you weren’t supposed to look at obstacles in terms of wholes; you just needed to look at the next step.

Which was exactly one step.

You had already taken a step! Surely you could take one more!

Except a small whimper escaped your lips as you took your next step, your second foot joining the first rather quickly and clumsily in a hasty attempt to relieve you from the tugging of your taped up abdomen. 

You had managed to wash, rinse, and repeat those steps for exactly six stairs before you started to wonder if the ice cream was really actually worth ripping your stomach back open. 

You were eight steps away from the lower level of your townhouse, and six steps from the upper level where your salvation came in the form of your bedroom. 

You had three options here:

1) Continue in your trek down the rest of the eight steps to your ice cream - dreams of ever returning to your bed be damned 2) Retreat to the safety of your bedroom and figure out how to haul yourself up onto the mattress  3) Ask for help 

Still feeling rather petulant over the fact that you were very close to having to live through Remus and Regulus’ “I told you so” faces, you opted for option two, and pivoted on the stair in an attempt to retreat back to your bedroom. 

Which would have been fine if the action of lifting your leg didn’t actually leave you feeling like the rest of your organs were about to spill out onto the staircase (which was very dramatic considering you weren’t even sure you could fit your own finger into the tiny holes dotting your abdomen if you tried; but that’s how it felt, okay?) 

So, in the face of failure, you opted to choose a secret fourth option:

4) Sit on the staircase in defeat and accept your fate (death, probably) 

“I’ll check, but if she throws a book at my face, you’re in charge of dinner.” You heard Remus call as he rounded the corner and started for the stairs. 

You had your forehead resting on the spindles of the railing and watched as Remus made it up the first section of stairs to the landing before pausing when he turned and noticed you.

“Dovey! Are you okay?” He whispered in abject horror, bending down (causing his knees to crack audibly which made you feel even more wretched for worrying him) as he considered you.

“I’m fine.” You whined, hoping to gain some sympathy in your current state.

“What are you doing here?!” He continued, rubbing his thumb along your shoulder. 

“Wanted ice cream…” You admitted rather reluctantly; shame prickled at your skin as Remus paused in his movements and his expression shifted from worry to one of shock. 

His mouth flattened into a terse smile. “You’re kidding me.”

‘I really, really wish I was’ you thought to yourself.

Apparently, your response read loud and clear on your face as he let out a tired sigh. “Reg!”

You felt your own expression morph from shame to one of betrayal. “Now, why would you do that!?”

Remus barely had a chance to roll his eyes at you as Regulus appeared around the corner. 

“Mon Dieu! Ce qui s’est passé?! Are you okay!?” He exclaimed as he spotted you sitting dejectedly on the stairs. 

“I’m fine.” You answered at the same time Remus replied “She’s stuck.”

“What were you doing?” Regulus asked again, looking between you and Remus in bemusement. 

“Being a brat.” Remus hissed quietly; his tone bordering frustration in a way you weren’t accustomed to being directed at you even as his touch remained loving and dutiful. 

Horrified, you felt your sinus’ fill painfully as you hid your face between the spindles of the railing, blocking both boys from your view. 

“I’m tired of being useless.” You whispered; your voice pinching audibly as your words nearly got stuck in your throat. 

Remus let out a sigh as he let his one hand slide from your shoulder down to your hand, and the other rubbed at your knee affectionately. 

“You’re not useless, mon amour; you’re recovering.”

“From a pretty major surgery, at that.” Remus added, earning him a derisive scoff from you.

“It’s not major surgery! It’s  a very routine procedure and it barely left a mark on me.” You spat; recounting the doctors words from before your surgery nearly word for word. 

“Ça suffit. An entire organ tried to kill you, amour, and it had to be removed.” Regulus offered.

“It was a stupid organ that we don’t even use anymore.” You added petulantly. 

“And it was ripped from you nonetheless, dove. Listen,” Remus continued, taking your chin in his hand and directing your eyes back to him. “I know, I know you hate feeling reliant on us, and I also know that we like letting you rely on us perhaps a bit too much.” He paused to raise his eyebrows at you and you took in a shuddering breath. “But I think right now is one of those times you have to let us.” 

You let an embarrassing sound escape the back of your throat as you tried to avert your gaze, but Remus strengthened his hold on your chin. 

“You have to let us, baby.” He whispered again. 

“My love, if you insist on doing things before you’re ready, you’re only going to hurt yourself which is going to mean you have to rely on us even longer.” Regulus continued as he sat beside you on the step, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear and trailing his finger down your neck. 

“You wouldn’t want that now, would you?” Remus asked teasingly; one corner of his lips tilting upwards and pulling at the scar that you loved to watch dance across his face when he was most expressive. 

You lifted your hand to run your finger along it, delighting in the slight blush that flooded Remus’ cheeks as he closed his eyes and relished in your touch. 

“Qu’est-ce que tu voulais?” Regulus asked you then.

You let out a sigh in resignation and tilted your head to rest on Regulus’ shoulder. “Ice cream.”

Your head jostled from the gentle chuckle that left Reg at your admission as Remus beamed at you. 

“Well, why didn’t you just ask?” He teased as he stood quickly - telling yourself that you weren’t jealous at all by his ability to move quickly and freely. “Wanna help our princess back to bed, my love?” Remus asked Regulus who was already standing and offering you his hands. 

They both helped you stand and allowed you a moment to catch your breath and confirm you were alright before Regulus moved two steps below and got into position to give you a piggy-back-ride.

Remus waited until the two of you got to the top of the stairs safely before hurrying to the kitchen to procure your long awaited ice cream. 

What would have likely taken you all day (had you been successful in your venture) took Regulus and Remus perhaps six and a half minutes before the three of you were propped up in your bed, each with a bowl of ice cream as Remus queued up your favourite movie. 

“Merci, amour.” Regulus whispered into your hair before pressing a kiss to your head.

“What for?” You asked.

He smiled softly at you as he examined your face. “For letting us love on you.” 

“It really is our favourite, you know?” Remus added.

And fortunately for you, you did know.

[changbunnies]

Moonstruck (18+)

♡ Pairing: Changbin x Ghost Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: very loosely inspired by corpse bride, horror in a goofy + silly + fluffy sort of way, ghost / human relationship, love at first sight vibes, smut, takes place vaguely during a time where ppl still use landlines more predominantly than cellphones

♡ Word Count: 6.5k

♡ Summary: Changbin is a scaredy cat– and despite that, he likes to read to the deceased in the cemetery, likes to help the souls that may linger there feel less lonely, likes to let them know they aren’t forgotten. His poems of choice are sweet things, full of love and joy– and his utterances of true love stir you; a soul who died before knowing love, and who craves it even in death. And Changbin decides, then and there, that he wants to give you what you couldn’t have in life.

♡ Warnings: discussions about death ofc (reader is quite literally dead and a ghost lol), i thought making reader the ghost instead of bin would be a fun lil twist as that usually isn't the case in fics like these? just wanted to try somethin a lil different :')

♡ Smut Warnings: sweet + tender smut because i'm a yearner for bin first and foremost!, no intended dom/sub dynamics but i did write a lot of bin begging so :), pet names (baby, honey), exhibitionism, voyeurism, some nipple play, mutual masturbation while cuddling

♡ Notes: my kinktober opened up dark but we are returning to standard form with my precious sweet binnie!! i did originally have something dark planned for bin too but i scrapped it pretty early on cause it didn't feel right lol i couldn't do it!! also the poem binnie is reading at the beginning of the fic is "since feeling is first" by e.e. cummings!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Changbin curses the autumn sun for setting so early– why on earth is it already so dark at 6 o’clock?!

The full moon hangs over him, and gosh, he wishes he could've gotten here earlier in the day– maybe then he wouldn’t still be here, in the local cemetery at night, with nothing but his poem book in hand.

He wishes even more that he at least had a flashlight– but the batteries were drained in the one he has sitting in his car's glove box, and it's not like he can leave spares in there; that's dangerous! So all he can do now is keep turning in the moonlight, trying to get it to hit the page of his book just right so he can keep reading. 

Perhaps the reason he's here is silly, but Changbin fully believes in ghosts. Well, to be more precise, he thinks that there are many souls in the world, and that not every soul is here physically. 

Most souls, he thinks, depart for a better place when their flesh dies, but he also thinks there are many that don’t– many that stick around because there is something they still wish to do, or because they have someone they still wish to see. 

That’s what always brings him here when he can spare a moment from his busy life. Because he believes that if spirits do still linger in this world like he thinks they do, if they haven’t yet found peace and moved on, they must be lonely. 

It must be sad– to exist in the world you once knew, but be unable to interact with it the way you used to. For others to no longer be able to see you, touch you, or hear you.. He doesn’t want anyone, alive or otherwise, to feel forgotten or ignored. And if he can make a difference somehow, in whatever small and silly way it is, he’ll do it; because he’d want someone to do it for him. 

Naturally, he didn’t intend to still be here at night; he just got caught up at work, and arrived here later than he typically would. But still, he didn’t want to just turn around and go home– he promised last week that he’d come back today to read! 

And maybe ghosts, or spirits, or whatever you want to call them aren’t real; maybe he spends his time here reading to nothing and no one. But if there’s even a chance that someone can hear him, and who looks forward to the days he returns to keep them company, then he has to keep his promises. 

Still, he’d be lying if he said he isn’t more than a little freaked out right now. He’s been here during the day plenty of times, and you’d think that’d mean he wouldn’t be scared of the place at night, but oh, you’d be so sorely mistaken. 

He jumps every time the crisp, freshly fallen autumn leaves rustle from the wind, and from every shadow cast from the newly bare tree branches. He constantly glances over his shoulder, alerted from every small noise, whether it be an owl hooting or a cricket chirping.

And when a black cat appeared out of nowhere to bump against his leg, he let out the shrillest shriek before erupting into a fit of sneezes. He even jumped out of his skin from accidentally kicking a can while walking– and why is there litter in a cemetery anyways? Whoever left their trash here is so disrespectful! 

Suffice it to say, Changbin really wants to get out of here– but there’s only one more batch of graves he hasn’t read over yet, and he doesn’t want to skip them over. It wouldn’t feel fair to them, especially not if they're waiting for him– the last thing he wants to do is disappoint someone.

“H-Hi everyone! Changbinnie’s back to read again, uhm– s-sorry I came so late, I’ll still read to you like I promised! J-Just give me a sec,” he says, trying to temper the fear in his voice as he continues to adjust the position of his book in the moonlight. Finally, he finds the perfect position for the moon to make the words in his book clear, and for the shadow he himself casts to not obscure them.

He takes one more tentative glance around, takes a breath to settle his nerves before he clears his throat to start. And thankfully, the fear does naturally start to dissipate a bit as he reads– serves as a good enough distraction from his eerie surroundings. "Since feeling is first, who pays any attention to the syntax of things, will never wholly kiss you. Wholly to be a fool while–"

Changbin pauses when he hears an unfamiliar sound, goosebumps erupting all along his skin as he looks up from his book. It was a soft, light and airy sound– almost like a voice, though he’s certain it couldn’t have been; because when he looks around, he doesn't see anyone. He’s as alone as he’s been from the start; so he assumes he's just psyching himself out, mistaking the steadily blowing wind for something it isn’t. 

"Aish, it's nothing! Stop scaring yourself!" he whispers to himself before he continues to recite the words on the page. But he pauses yet again when he hears fallen leaves crinkle and a brittle tree branch snap just feet away from him. It spooks him good, it does– and he lets out an awkward laugh at himself when he realizes it was the black cat he saw earlier that made the sound; hopefully it keeps enough distance that he doesn't get the sneezes again.

Looking away from the cat that is currently working overtime to fray his nerves, he turns his attention back to his book. There's only a tiny bit of the poem left to go, and Changbin is confident he can get through it! No more being a scaredy cat over the little things, no more trembling breaths and anxious stutters– he can do this!

"The best gesture of my brain is less than your eyelids' flutter, which says we are for each other; then laugh, leaning back in my arms. For life's not a paragraph, and death, I think, is no parenthesis."

With a sigh of relief to be finished, he closes his book and prepares to bid the inhabitants of the cemetery, that may or may not actually exist, a pleasant goodbye; and a swear that he's never staying past sundown again. He’ll stay longer next time, he promises, but he has to go home before he loses his mind. 

He really hopes they do exist– he doesn't want to think he stuck around while scared out of his wits for no reason; he hopes someone heard him, and was comforted by his presence. And honestly, he thinks he deserves a pat on the back after all the trials he's gone through in the last 30 minutes!

And as he finishes tucking his poem book in his arm and looks up, he sees someone. Translucent, hazy, floating, just a few feet in front of him– he can see straight through them, can see all the dark trees and short, stone headstones that live in the ground that the figure should obscure were they physically here.

Changbin blinks, almost wanting to cartoonishly rub his eyes and slap his cheeks to make sure he's seeing properly and not losing his mind like he fears. What he does instead is shriek, positively jumps out of his skin once again as he drops his book and falls back on his behind from the fright.

He scrambles backwards, ducks behind a nearby headstone and brings a hand over his racing heart. He takes a few breaths, does his best to calm down before he slowly peeks out from behind the headstone to see if the figure is still there. 

He doesn't see anyone anymore– was he just seeing things? He has been really scared, so he doesn't think it impossible that his mind would start tricking him. But what if he really saw a ghost? The thought makes goosebumps rise on his skin again– God, he needs to go home already. 

"Hello? Can you hear me?" he hears a voice, airy and otherworldly, just behind him. His breath hitches, and hesitantly, slowly, he starts to turn toward the source of the voice. You float there, brows furrowed as you call to him, glowing ever so slightly in the palest shade of blue. 

A chill runs down his spine, and it's not just from how frightened he is– it's because cold air is quite literally radiating off of you. "Y-You– You're– You're a–" You're a ghost, he's trying to say, but the word catches in his throat. It doesn't help that his teeth are chattering now– he can even see his breath with every word he manages to choke out.

And yes, he already thought ghosts were real– the whole reason he comes here to comfort spirits is because he believes in them! But he’s never actually seen one before, nor heard their disembodied voices calling to him. And now that it’s actually happening, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

“You can hear me! I knew it! You can see me too, can’t you?” you exclaim joyously, clapping your hands together in utter delight. You’re less transparent than before, your form less blurry– but you don’t look solid either. If he stuck his hand out to touch you, he’s sure it’d pass right through you. 

He swallows as he watches you dart side to side in your glee, the motions so smooth it’s unnatural. You look around his age, he thinks, though it’s impossible for him to tell exactly how old you are– or rather, were. Your hair is wispy, floats around you in a way reminiscent of being underwater; your long dress does too, light and delicate in appearance. 

“I’m sorry for scaring you, Changbin,” you tell him earnestly as you float down to his eye level, “I didn’t mean to, I just got so excited you could finally hear me– I'm so happy!” 

“You– you know my name?” Changbin questions, bewildered– honestly, he feels like he’s going to pass out. “Of course I do! You come here every week to read to me,” you reply with a giggle, as if the idea that you wouldn’t know his name is a silly one.

“O-Oh, right, yeah, of course, that makes sense,” he mutters. He’s still shocked, but he’s not as scared as before, and he manages to relax just a little. “You, uhm– you listen to me read often then..?” he follows up hesitantly; and it’s probably such a silly question, but you’ll have to forgive him because he’s never had a conversation with a ghost before. 

“Yes! I love when you come to visit and read your poems, it always makes me happy,” you tell him, adjusting your position so you’re sitting down with him– though you aren’t actually sitting on the dirt like he is, but levitating off the ground.

You introduce yourself after that, smile happily when he repeats it, because it’s been oh so long since someone said your name. “If you’re always here, why couldn’t I see you before?” Changbin can’t help but ask after, because now that the fear is dissipating he’s full of questions he wants to ask you.

“Well, the conditions have to be right! You can’t see me when it’s bright out, and you never stay 'til dark. And now I know why, scaredy cat,” you tease him, giggling when he pouts and huffs. You honestly find it endearing that someone as seemingly strong as Changbin is so easily frightened by little things.

“Hey, you’d be scared too!” he complains, though he can’t help but smile as you keep giggling at him. He never expected to befriend a ghost, but you’re obviously a kind spirit, and your delight to be talking to him is evident. And now that he’s over the shock and the fear, and really looks at you, he thinks you’re pretty too– beautiful, even. 

Is that strange? Maybe; but you are still a person at the end of the day. You float, you’re a little transparent, you glow pale blue and cold air surrounds you, but you’re still a person.

And at the same time, he can’t help but feel sad too– death comes for everyone, he knows, but it feels unfair that someone like you is already gone from this world. Someone as young, kind, and beautiful as you should’ve lived a long, full life.

“You need to have strong emotions to manifest, y’know? And the moon helps– when it's full like this, it gives me more energy than I usually have,” you continue to explain when your giggling subsides, and Changbin hums contemplatively, thinking for a moment before he responds.

“You have strong emotions then? Something that keeps you here?” It makes sense that you would– as far as he knows, strong emotions are the only things tethering spirits to the physical world; so if you’re not at rest, it has to be because there’s something within you that feels unresolved, something you needed or wanted but never obtained. 

Tentatively you nod, fiddling with your fingers and averting your gaze slightly. “I do, but.. It’s– it’s silly,” you mumble, and Changbin’s previous lighthearted, curious expression shifts, suddenly turning serious as he gazes at you with a slight frown.

“If it mattered to you– if it still matters to you, it’s not silly,” he says, and the sincerity in which he says it would make your heart race if you were still alive. If you’re being entirely honest, you’re in love with Changbin– and that’s part of the problem.

When you were alive, all you’d ever wanted was love– to meet someone that knocked you off your feet with just a glance, someone sweet, sincere, and tender. Someone that you could marry someday, maybe start a family with while living together in a quaint little idyllic house. 

But that never happened– and the sense of despair and unfulfillment you felt from having your dreams taken away from you are what kept you here. You didn’t know what to do when you realized what happened to you– spent your days wailing in frustration and sadness to the few other spirits inhabiting the cemetery with you over the unfair circumstances. 

What were you supposed to do? How were you supposed to find peace and move on? Maybe the only way would be to learn to accept it– accept that your dreams would never come true, and just let them go. You didn’t want to, but if you kept holding onto them, who knows when you’d finally move on from this world? 

And around the same time you were grappling with such thoughts and feelings is when you first saw Changbin, who came to the cemetery for no reason other than to give you and the other inhabitants some company. And he wasn’t talking only to you, but it always felt like he was– like every word that left his lips was entirely for you alone. 

“I’m here for you, you’re not alone as long as Changbin is here,” “This poem is my favorite, I hope you like it too,” “Did you have a good day today? It’s okay if you didn’t– Binnie’ll hopefully make it better!” 

That’s all it took, really– and suddenly, you weren’t bound to this world because you never knew love; you were bound to this world because you felt it too much. You love him; not just because of his sweet personality, but every little detail about him– from the swoop and curl of his hair, to his chubby cheeks, to his cute, pretty and pouty lips. 

And you long to kiss him, but Changbin is alive, and you very much aren’t anymore– and there’s no way he’ll fall in love with a ghost. Still, you believe him when he says that what binds you here isn’t silly– or that he won’t think so, at least. 

“It’s just.. Well, I can’t have what I want, I know I can’t, but I still want it anyways; like, even though I should just let it go, I can’t bring myself to. I think that’s why I’m still here,” you tell him, deciding it’s best to keep your desires down to their vaguest parts.

Changbin is sweet, and he looks at you with so much care that you’re certain he’d be understanding and sympathetic, but it’s probably for the best that you don’t pour your heart out beyond that. 

“Is there really no way for you to have what you want? If there’s anything I can do to help, you can tell me! I’d do my best,” he expresses sincerely, and though you can’t physically cry anymore, it almost makes you feel like you will. He’s just too sweet, you can’t take it.

“M-Maybe, but I wouldn’t ask for it,” you reply, and his brows furrow a little. “Why not? You don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to, but I hope you know that I mean it when I say I'd be happy to help you," Changbin says, smile so patient, gentle and sweet that it if you were still alive, your cheeks would definitely be heating up right now. 

Should you give it a shot? What's the worst that could happen? You're already dead, so it's not like you can die from embarrassment if he shuts you down. The worst he can say is no– and that would be okay too, because maybe with his rejection you'd finally be able to let go of what keeps you here.

“You could.. kiss me?” you say after a moment of hesitation, and Changbin almost squeaks from how surprised he is, blinks at you with the cutest flustered expression you’ve ever seen.

“Th-That’s– that’s what you want?” he stutters out, and even in the low light of the moon, you can tell he’s blushing, the soft pink spreading over his cheeks and crawling up to the tips of his ears.

“It’s– it’s what I wanted when I was alive. To kiss someone I love, I mean,” you answer, and it gets Changbin’s heart racing. Not just that someone as pretty as you, ghost or not, wants to kiss him, but the implication that you love him that definitely wasn’t missed by him. 

“It was the poems, wasn’t it?” he says with a bashful little downturned smile a moment later, and you laugh, in your delightfully light and airy way as you nod. “They helped. But really, I just think you’re very cute– and very sweet.”

It’s a little strange, being complimented like this by a ghost, and learning that said ghost has very deep rooted feelings for him– but he likes it. And maybe it’s a little unorthodox, but he’d be happy to give you what you want; especially if it will help you find peace.

“I’ll kiss you,” he tells you, and it’s not because he feels obligated, or like he should– it’s because, believe it or not, he sincerely wants to. He thinks you're pretty, you're sweet and earnest, and you love him– so who cares if you're a ghost; why shouldn't he kiss you?

“A-Are you sure? You really don’t have to,” you assure him, and Changbin smiles at you as he nods, entirely certain. “I know I don’t have to. I want to kiss you.” Your spiritual heart soars and burns with joy– and slowly, timidly, you return his smile before you float your way closer to him, and reach your hand out to touch his cheek.

He doesn’t feel your touch, not really– just the cold that pours from you. Regardless, he closes his eyes for you, purses his lips and slightly tilts his head the way he would if he were kissing anyone else. And again, he doesn’t feel your lips, but the cold– that is, until the feeling suddenly starts to become fuller. 

Slowly, he can begin to feel the way your hand rests on his cheek, can feel your lips slotted against his. He can feel your other hand resting on his chest, right over his heart, can feel the weight of your body on his lap, and he shivers– not because of the cold, but because he can actually feel you now.

Instinctively, he moves his hands to try and touch you– and is pleasantly surprised to find he can. His hands don’t phase through you like he thought they would earlier– he can feel you under his fingertips, as if you’re just as corporeal as he himself is. And so he holds you close, kisses you slow and sweet, over and over until he’s out of breath. 

“You’re still here,” he can’t help but whisper when he pulls away; he half expected you to dissipate the moment you got what you wanted, though he’s not sure if that’s actually how it's supposed to work. And he’s left with a strange feeling– on one hand, he’s sad for you because he really did want to help you move on. On the other hand, he likes that you’re still here, that he can still see you and feel you. 

In reality, you feel like his kiss tethered you even more to the physical world. You’re the happiest you’ve ever been, and instead of it giving you the peace you needed to move on, it bound you here stronger. You're filled with a strong desire to remain here, to be with Changbin, and you feel that it has made you manifest more than you’d ever been able to before. 

You’ve tried many times before, but have never been able to manifest yourself this much; to the point that not only could you be seen and heard, but felt– and whether it’s because the full moon is helping, or because Changbin’s kiss gave you more energy and purpose, or a mix of both, you’re happy.

“I think I like you too much to move on.” you tell him, and he giggles as he squeezes you closer, his nose scrunching cutely whilst he hugs you. 

“I’m sorry– I feel like I shouldn’t be, but I’m happy you’re still here,” he says, and you shake your head, returning his smile as you share the sentiment. “I’m happy I’m still here too.” 

It’s a bit strange, having a ghost for a partner. Sharing a kiss attached you to him; and no longer bound to your grave, but to Changbin himself, now you go wherever he goes. You don’t need to always be right on him, of course– but you do have to be close; and every time one of you steps too far out of that radius, you always end up snapping back to him. 

It’s a generous radius, really– you can go several miles before the invisible tether connecting you snaps you back to his side. It’s more than enough for you to exist in his house while he goes to work– and really, he’s happy to share his home with you; he’s sure it beats staying in the cemetery all day, every day. 

And even when he can’t see you, whether because the sun is too bright in the sky or because you don’t have enough energy to manifest that day, he can feel you– and you make yourself known in little ways. His house is always cold now, but it’s especially cold when you’re nearby. You flicker his lights and turn his tv screen to static to get his attention, or leave a message in the steam from his hot showers on the mirror. 

He’ll get a phantom phone call to his landline, where all that exists on the other line is static– but even if he can’t hear it, he’s sure at that moment you’re saying something sweet. And while he's mostly used to these occurrences now, he'll still jump when he hears a sudden noise before he remembers it’s you; a tapping on the wood of his bed frame, usually– 8 knocks meant to signify “I love you.”

Nights of the full moon are always when you can manifest yourself the fullest and easiest, and you both take full advantage of the time you have before you eventually start to become hazy and transparent again. Tonight is one of those nights; the moon hanging high, bright and beautiful, illuminating his dark room in the same pretty, pale blue that glows off you. 

“Baby, please–! You’re so cold, warn me first!” Changbin cries when you first touch him. He already knows you’re not going to waste any time in getting to touch him when you first manifest, but the chill that radiates off you still jolts him every time.

“You’re just so warm,” you muse happily as you snake your limbs around him, sap him for all the warmth he’s worth under his fluffy comforter, “my big teddy bear.” He huffs, but smiles as he does– he can’t actually be upset with you, after all. 

“You should let me take your warmth anyways– you were so mean, ignoring me all day,” you pout as you snuggle into him, burying your head in the warm crook of his neck.

“Hey, hey! Don’t say that, that’s not fair! You know I couldn’t see you!” he wails dramatically, and you have to make an effort not to giggle, bury your face further into him so he can’t see you smiling.

Of course, you know it’s not his fault in the slightest that he couldn’t see your or hear you earlier today, but you still like to tease him over it just a little– his reactions to it are always so cute. “So mean,” you repeat, your voice muffled by his sweater.

He knows that you’re doing it to get a rise out of him, and you know that he knows. But he likes doing this with you– it’s silly fun, and he loves the precious smile that spreads on your face when he plays along and inevitably dotes on you while begging for your forgiveness.

“Aigoo, my baby is really upset. Guess Binnie just has to make it up to you, huh?” he says, and you lift your head just enough to peek an eye at him. “Tell Changbinnie what you want, he’ll give it to you. He’s really sorry,” he entices you further, and the cute smile he was expecting and loves so much makes its full appearance.

“Want a kiss,” you say, pursing your lips at him in that cute duck shape as you wait for him to comply. He tries to coo at you, but it comes out more like a giggle before he’s lifting his head from the pillow to kiss you, tender and sweet.

“Do you forgive me now?” he asks when he pulls away, and you hum as you pretend to think about it. “Mm, I don’t know. I think I might need another one to decide.”

Changbin fully laughs then, shakes his head and mutters something about you being cute before he kisses you again. He shifts onto his side as he kisses you, making it easier for you to tangle your legs with his. He hisses when your cold toes touch the backs of warm calves, and you giggle an apology, though he knows you’re not actually sorry about it at all.

You always tell him how much you love his warmth, and how it radiates from every inch of him. And he’ll pout and shout, half-heartedly complain when you surprise him by touching him with your cold digits, simply because he knows it makes you laugh; you both know that in reality, he’s happy to be your personal heater.

He shivers when you snake your hands under his sweater; your hands aren’t as cold as they were when you first touched him anymore, but it’s still enough for goosebumps to follow the path of your fingers– or maybe he just has goosebumps because he likes you touching him.

Changbin gasps when you brush over his peaking, puffy nipples, and you take that moment to slip your tongue into this mouth. He moans when you pinch them between your fingers, tweak and twist just enough to have him squirming.

“Honey,” he breathes in a near whine when you pull away from him to kiss over his jaw, and the scar that sits on his chin, while your fingers continue to play with his body. 

“I missed you,” you speak against his skin as you press kisses along his neck, “I heard you earlier– saw you touching yourself in the shower. I wanted you so bad, but I couldn’t do anything about it.” He whimpers at that, squeezes you where his hand rests on your waist. 

Naturally, the fact that you can hear him and see him even when he can’t see or hear you always exists in the back of his mind. Every time he starts to touch himself, it’s something he considers– and he even likes it; likes knowing you’re there, watching and listening.

“I’m sorry, couldn’t help it,” he whines an apology, though he knows he doesn’t have to. You’ve both talked about it, of course– how you like watching him, and how he likes being watched in turn. There’s something naughty about it, and it always leaves him feeling extra desired and sexy when you later tell him what you saw, how much you want him because of it. 

And when he feels a sudden chill run along his body and down the length of his spine, is hit with the inexplicable sensation of being watched, he knows it’s you. It always fuels him, makes him fist his cock faster and run his mouth, hoping you like everything he’s spilling. 

Really, it’s no wonder that you always jump his bones the minute you can. Changbin thinks he’d go insane if the situation were the opposite; if he could see you touching yourself, could hear every little noise of pleasure you release, and not be able to join no matter how bad he wanted to. He’s already desperate for more intimacy with you as is– he doesn’t think he’d be able to take it. 

“Can you do it again? Touch yourself with me right here?” you ask him, and he can’t help the way his face flushes as you continue, “I want you to see me watching you this time.” You can feel the way his heart thumps in response to your request, how it picks up speed ever so slightly before he answers. “Y-Yeah, I can– I can do that for you, honey.”

You meant it when you said you like watching Changbin get off. You like watching his honeyed skin slowly take on more and more pink as he strokes his cock. You like watching his broad chest puff out, his stomach clench, his toned arms flex with every motion he makes.

You like watching the sweat build on his brow, and like to listen to his moans become more breathy and whiny as he gets closer and closer to release. And though Changbin isn’t naked now, you’ll still enjoy watching all the same; because he's beautiful, and handsome, and so utterly perfect when he's feeling good.

He reaches between your bodies, manages to get his pajama pants and underwear down just enough to release his still hardening cock from their confines. He bites his lip as he takes the short length in his hand, looks down at himself as he strokes it slowly before looking back at you.

There’s still enough lingering sensitivity from before that he squirms more than usual, but that’s not all there is to it– it's your attentive stare, the way you gaze into his eyes as he moans before you trail them away to watch him stroke himself, and back again. And you’re so close, body so tangled with his, that his fist keeps bumping into your thigh with each pump of his cock. 

Changbin keens when you kiss him, so affectionate and tender that it makes his head spin. You can feel his thighs twitch as he starts to stroke himself faster, and you pull away to watch for a few moments before you tilt your head back up to kiss him again. He's fully hard now, dripping pre-cum so steadily that the glide of his hand becomes slick and effortless.

He whimpers when you pinch his nipples again, parts his lips so you can slip your tongue back into his mouth. His breathing becomes steadily harsher and uneven, his every moan and whimper muffled by your lips against his. He brings his other hand to your ass, squeezes it as he pulls you even closer to his body, as if the fact that you're not already mere inches apart with your limbs tangled together is enough for him.

And truly, he can't get enough of having you close like this. The way you kiss him, touch him, look at him, all while he’s stroking his cock for you– it really does something to him; makes him feel so good and so desired that he swears he could cum purely from the intimacy of it alone.

“You too, please?” Changbin pleads in a breathy exhale the next time you pull back from kissing him, “Please, want to watch you too.”

“Yeah? You want to watch me?” you smile, almost giggle from the eager nod and the whiny, desperate “please, want it so bad,” he gives in response. You’re sweet to your Binnie, oblige him in an instant, and he watches with eager eyes and bated breath as you dip your hand between your bodies.

Even with your dress already hiked all the way up your thighs, you’re so closely pressed to him that he can’t get a clear sight of your pussy; but watching your hand will be enough of a view for him. He'll be able to tell what you're doing, and that's all he really needs.  

All you can reach while this close and tangled together with Changbin is your clit, and he watches you shudder at the first bit of stimulation to it from your fingers. He mimics what you’d done– alternates between watching your face and your hand, and God, every time your eyes meet again it takes his breath away. 

It’s not the same as if you had a physical body like his– your face doesn’t flush, you don't sweat from exertion, and you don’t grow breathless the way he does, but you feel the pleasure all the same. He can tell from the furrow of your brow, the tremble of your body, and the bite of your lip as you gaze at him.

And you're so pretty, face so close to his that your foreheads touch, that his every breath tickles you. "Oh my god, baby–" he whimpers when you start to moan with him, picking up the pace of your hand when he does, matching his speed.

It makes him dizzy– because when he closes his eyes, he can pretend he’s inside you; pretend that the sloppy, squelching sounds his fist creates are from your pussy instead. He can pretend that when you moan and whimper, it’s because he's stretching you out perfectly and hitting your spot just right. 

He holds your gaze when he opens his eyes again, completely stops watching the motion of your fingers between your legs so he can strictly observe you, take in your pretty face and how you look when you're feeling good with him. It’s intimate, staring at you like this; it makes him squeeze his cock tighter, the motion of his fist quickly becoming erratic as he drives himself closer to release. 

“Does it– do you feel good?” Changbin asks, because even though he knows, he still wants to hear you say it. “Do you like this? Tell me– please tell me.” 

“Feels so good, Binnie, love this, love you so much– you can’t see it, but I always touch myself with you like this, always make myself cum watching you,” you tell him, and he whimpers from your admission, high-pitched and squeaky. 

“Oh, ‘m so close– will you cum with me? Please, need you to cum with me,” Changbin whines and pleads, every inch of his body trembling as he tries to hold his orgasm back long enough to hear your answer. 

“I will, ‘m gonna cum for you, Binnie, just for you,” you promise, reaching your free hand out to cup his face, keeping your eyes locked with his as you watch each other unravel. Your paces are frantic now, bodies bucking together with every combined motion of your hands between your tangled legs. 

You lean forward to kiss him just as your high takes you, and it sends him right over the edge with you, eyes rolling back before they flutter closed. Noises of pleasure muffled by each other’s lips, his hips jolt as his cum spills over his fist, onto your thighs and the hand you have nestled between them. 

He’s sure some of it got on his comforter too, but he doesn’t care– he just keeps kissing you as he comes down from his high, because despite how breathless he is, it's all he wants to do. “I love you so much,” he tells you after another sweet kiss, and you smile at him, tell him you love him too as you wipe the sweat sticking his curly hair to his forehead away. 

You stay like that the rest of the night; tangled together, hugging each other close and kissing tenderly until Changbin’s fatigue prevents him from doing so any longer. He falls asleep like that, holding you to his body as much as he can; and even when your physical form starts to dissipate with the rising of the sun, you stay right against him.

When he wakes in the morning, he can’t see you anymore, but he knows you’re there. He tells you he loves you, and he smiles when you reply with your 8 little knocks to his bed frame. He talks to you throughout his morning, as he always does, because even if he can’t see you, he knows you’re listening. 

And when he decides to go back to the cemetery to read to the other spirits that still linger there, as he promised them he would, you go with him. He saves your grave for last, and you watch as he puts flowers on your headstone before he settles in to read to you; and even when he can’t see you because the sun is just too bright, he can feel you there, sitting next to him and listening to his poems. 

When he’s finished reading, he’ll feel a sudden touch of cold on his cheek, and he’ll know it’s from you kissing him. He’ll smile, place his hand over the spot and tell you again that he loves you. And when Changbin returns home, and the light of the moon helps you manifest again, he’ll kiss you all over and squeeze you tight, with a million promises of forever on his lips.

[roseykat]

KINKTOBER DAY 9

TITLE: Don't bite the hand that feeds you

PAIRING: Seungmin x reader

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: Featuring Seungmin as your lecturer's student assistant who runs your tutorials and possesses just as harsh a personality as he fucks.

TAGS: Mean tutor Seungmin, oral sex (f!reader receiving), unprotected sex, public sex, swearing.

KINK: Freelance

KINKTOBER23 - MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @kbitties @luneskies @mal-lunar-28 @kibs-and-bits @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @queenmea604

A/N: this is for all the Seungmin stans out there x

There isn’t any way to work around a more stubborn person. People that you’ve met before don’t even come close to the level of arrogance that this person carries with them. That person being one of your tutors for a class at Uni, Seungmin. For some reason, he always has the time of day to help other people but has an issue with your supposed incompetence in completing a task when it comes to you. 

Seungmin never checks your work, never goes over your answers, discusses your ideas or anything like that. He has a very prickly attitude yet only those needles are only for you. You see the sigh he lets out whenever you need to approach him to clarify something he went over during the tutorial. You see the crease between his eyebrows as the annoyance grows when you ask if he can read a draft of yours before you submit it. 

He never does that with other students. Seungmin is happy to help them, makes conversation with them before class, and always seems to have time for them. 

The difference in his behaviour towards you definitely placed an unnecessary burden on your shoulders. But you’re not one to budge. Whether his intentions are malicious or not, you’re not exactly an easy one to crack, which is why you continued to supposedly ‘bother’ him. 

“Hey,” you approach him after one of his tutorials, hoping you used a good enough manner to not light a fire under his seat. “Would you be able to check this for me?”

Seungmin furrows his eyebrows - not a good sign, and averts his eyes from the whiteboard to look at your paper, “I can’t help you with that.”

“And why is that?” You question. “You had no trouble looking at everyone else’s. How’s mine any different?”

“Judging from your grades, I’d suspect there would be a lot of differences,” he responds.

“I’ll take that as a compliment since I’m one of the top in the class thank you,” you scoff. 

“And one of the top most arrogant too,” Seungmin fires back. “If you haven’t got anything relevant to show me, I suggest you leave. The next tutorial group starts in twenty minutes.” 

Your face contorts slightly, “well since this isn’t relevant enough for you, is it possible for you to check over one of the drafts we have to send in on Friday?”

“Can’t do that either-“

“Then what can you do exactly?” You cut him off impatiently. “Seriously, I’ve been trying to ask you for help for the past two weeks and you’ve only ever given me vague answers to my questions and you won’t proofread any of my work which is what you’re here to do.”

Seungmin takes off his glasses and closes the distance between himself and you, “I don’t help out entitled people like you who always demand things.”

You glare up at him, “I’m not entitled. I was just merely commenting about the fact that you don’t do what you’re being��paid to do.”

“And you just keep proving my point as to why you are entitled, because you don’t shut up and you always complain. After every tutorial, you come up to me and ask me for something.” 

“Yeah, just like everyone else and yet, I don’t see you giving the same shit to them as you do to me,” you argue right back with him. 

“That’s because you expect things to be handed to you on a silver plate. Unlike them, you don’t work for your shit with me,” Seungmin responds, placing the cap on the whiteboard marker a little bit too rough. 

“Being here is me working for my shit,” you press back. “You’re just being a stubborn ass because you don’t like me.”

“Well you’re right with one thing,” he sighs.

You roll your eyes and scoff, “fuck you honestly.” 

It took a lot of effort not to just shove Seungmin out of your way as you headed out the door with a fresh stormy cloud looming over your head. Felix could spot it a mile away when you went to meet up with him for lunch nearby after his class too. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks carefully, studying the pained expression on your face. 

“Nothing,” you sigh, trying to let it go. “Just one of my stupid tutors.”

“Is this the same one that isn’t doing his job properly?” Felix questions, remembering the conversation you both had about him a while back. 

“Bingo.”

“You know, he’s probably dealing with things in the background that you don’t know about,” Felix points out, his habit of always giving people the benefit of the doubt starting to shine through. 

“Yeah, pretty sure he’s dealing with ‘absolute fucking dickhead disorder’,” you spit. “And even if he was - even if the worst is happening to him, he has no right to be taking out his anger or frustration on me.” 

Felix sports a disappointed look on his face, “is it just you, or are there others?”

“It’s just me, I swear.”

“Okay, I believe you,” Felix assures. “If he really is as bad as you say he is, maybe just ignore him. We’ve only got seven weeks left, that’s not too long until you can get away from him, yeah?” 

It was easier said than done, because the next round of tutorials that approached in the following week, opened up that fresh wound of just seeing Seungmin’s face and dreading it. All of Felix’s advice went out the gate, almost like it was never there in the first place.

In the end, you simply chose not to speak. What’s the point in arguing with a person who won’t move?

So right after the tutorial, you don’t bother darting straight to Seungmin and asking for his help. He’s not willing to give it to you so there’s no point in lingering behind. As you pack your things up from the table and start to head out, Seungmin peers at you from behind the glasses that you so badly want to knock off his face sometimes. 

He’s not entirely stumped that you haven’t approached him, but he is a bit intrigued. Maybe he had come across too strongly with you the other day - maybe within the past month without being of any help to you at all. Then again, Seungmin isn’t the most apologetic of people. 

“Surprised you’re not asking me to check anything for you,” he projects his voice to you just before you leave the class. 

You heard him on your way out, but what’s a retaliation going to do? Only add fuel to your own fire. Seungmin isn’t the one who’s got something to lose here. He’s just a student tutor who’s clearly got enough competence to reinforce the learning you receive during lectures. At the end of the day, his grades for this class aren’t on the line. Yours are. 

“Y/N,” you hear a voice call out to you, recognising it to be Felix. Caught up in the swirl of your own thoughts, you almost forgot Felix had been waiting for your tutorial to end as he sat in a row of seats against the wall. 

“Hey,” you call out to him. 

“So, how was it? Did you say anything to him?” He asks as you sit down beside him. 

“I just gave up,” you answer. “I forgot that you can’t get your point across to dickheads so I stopped trying. I’ll just go to the other classes' tutorials if they let me switch. Or maybe I can just cross-check my work with their tutor.”

“Geez, that bad is he?”

“The fucking worst,” you confirm.

However, you weren’t surprised to learn that Seungmin’s attitude and behaviour still continued in the following tutorial, close to an essay hand-in date which is what you didn’t need. The only saving grace is that instead of going over the content that you learned in an earlier lecture, Seungmin allowed his students to study for another upcoming in-class test in the upcoming week. 

You spent that time wisely working on the essay you needed to hand in since it was the first due. Then, by two o’clock, everyone started wrapping up their study session. You slot your books into your bag, zip it up, and ready to leave.

“You, come here,” Seungmin speaks in your direction, but you really don’t want to listen. At first to begin with, you were surprised he was even talking to you.

“And if I don’t?” 

“Don’t be stubborn. I want to talk about your assignment,” he replies. He set his bait and waited for you to take it. So you approach him hesitantly from your chair, leaving your bag behind at the table. 

“See, how hard was that?” 

You roll your eyes. Not even a full conversation in and he’s already made you reach your limit, “oh go fuck yourself.”

Upon hearing your nasty sentiment, Seungmin’s hand latches quickly onto your wrist, “what did you just say?”

You look down at your arm in disbelief, then back up to him, his eyes narrowing at you, “what?”

“Say it again.”

“I said; ‘go fuck yourself.”

“Fucking brat.” 

Without warning, Seungmin’s hands grasp the sides of your arms in a flash, backing you against the wall behind him. Out of nowhere, his mouth comes down and crashes against yours in a bruising kiss. There’s no time to process what’s actually going on when you start kissing him back, allowing his tongue to delve deeper into his mouth. 

In the back of your mind, you can’t believe your own actions, but at the same time, pushing back on him also feels like you’re letting some of that frustration go. To take things further, Seungmin breaks away from you for a moment, turning your body by your arms, and backs you straight into the desk until your hips hit the edge.

Your first instinct tells you to lean back while your legs automatically lift so that Seungmin can slot right in, pressing his semi-hard dick against your pussy. 

It gives you the opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist, trying to bring him in closer as you hope for more friction. Seungmin pins your wrists down to the desk, kissing along your jaw and down to your throat where he bites and sucks until there’s a line of future regretful hickies for you to deal with later on. 

“D-Do something,” you stammer, feeling so dizzy from the pleasure that you desperately start to chase. 

“Why should I?” He mumbles into your skin. 

You turn your head, watching figures of people pass by through the frosted glass of the door who could potentially walk in at any given time. In saying that, a portion of you recognises that there’s something so naughty about being caught in the act. 

“Please Seungmin,” you beg for him, feeding into his ego. 

His head rises from your neck, “that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say ‘please’.” 

You didn’t care what he meant by that. All you care about is relieving that itch inside the pit of your stomach because you know that horny feeling will take a long time to dissipate. Nonetheless, Seungmin seems to listen to you when he unbuttons the first two buttons of his white dress shirt. 

His fingers reach down to your jeans, unzipping them and yanking them right off your legs until you’re just left in your underwear, already soaking through. Seungmin uses the pad of his thumb to brush gently over the fabric which is sticky to the touch. It makes the corner of his mouth tug up. 

“Keep quiet if you don’t want people to come in,” he warns before taking his glasses off and placing them to the side of you before kneeling down. 

Your chest already starts heaving just feeling his warm breath fan across your inner thighs. The anticipation leading up to it has you clawing at the desk when Seungmin starts removing your underwear. 

“Look how fucking wet you are,” he speaks from a stance of astonishment just seeing what he was able to do to you from a simple makeout session and some rough and tumble. 

His comment turns you into a flustered mess that is easily shattered when Seungmin moves his mouth closer to your pussy, kissing your inner thigh and inching closer until he reaches your clit. Your back arches in an instant. One hand clasps over your mouth to stifle a loud moan at the heat of Seungmin’s mouth, the other grabs a fistful of his hair and starts tugging. He doesn’t dare hold back; sucking on your clit, lapping up at what he can to make your entire body shudder. 

It never occurred to you that Seungmin is like this. You’ve always made him out to be some rich, entitled, arrogant, teacher's pet with good grades and an outstanding reputation when he goes and does shit like this – eating you out in broad daylight, in public.

Whatever rabid spirit took over Seungmin, it wasn’t stopping him. His tongue dances perfect circles and random shapes against your clit, embracing your thighs quivering shamelessly around his head. 

“Oh my god, feels…feels so good,” you mutter, using every drop of energy you can to subdue the moans into whimpers. 

Not even the hand you’ve been trying to use to cover your mouth is working because when Seungmin keeps building you up to that edge, you increasingly become louder. But that’s all on him for initiating this, not that you’re complaining. Not when your head is just about thrashing back behind you on the wooden surface trying to syphon all the pleasure you’re getting. It’s like rouge electricity, a live wire inside of you that has no chance of being tamed. 

“Fuck, gonna make me cum,” you mumble, eyelids already fluttering. “So…good.”

Seungmin heard that as a sign to press his face further into your pussy but kept the same momentum and pace that his tongue uses to make you cum, and when you do, every ounce of pleasure pours into all the cells throughout your body. It rattles you in such a good way, that you forget how hard you’re tugging on Seungmin’s hair as he continues to eat you out through to the very end. But you managed to stay quiet – just. 

Your body unstiffens and your chest heaves up and down trying to catch air. The orgasm was so massive that afterwards, you couldn’t figure out what time it was or where you were. It nearly took out every bit of consciousness you had remaining. 

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he rasps. 

Whatever that means – not that you can articulate it as of yet. You’re still trying to grapple with reality and when Seungmin unzips his pants to free his cock, you know there’s no point in trying.

He’s big in length and has a sizeable girth. He teases you with his tip, sliding up and down from your now oversensitive clit to your drenched hole. Just feeling how wet you are makes him wonder one thing:

“Are you a virgin?” He asks. 

You’re still trying to regain a bit of consciousness, only able to muster a few words at a time, “no...no I’m not.”

“I pinned it down to either that or someone hasn’t touched you in a while,” he responds. You groan at the embarrassment. Seungmin must obviously be that experienced for him to make such an observation. 

“The latter. Now just hurry up and fuck me.” 

“Shut up,” Seungmin snipes, even though he begins to push his cock inside of you at a terribly slow pace. 

You didn’t realise how much you had been aching to have someone inside you. Your own fingers can’t seem to do the right trick of actually feeling full and satisfied. But now that Seungmin is here, slowly thrusting in until he reaches the hilt, can he make you feel that way. 

“Jesus fuck,” Seungmin bites down on his lip and has to hold onto the edge of the desk beside your body for support. 

He’s never felt anything like it. Even after sleeping with other women prior to you in his past, there’s something about the way you feel that isn’t like the rest. Maybe it’s from the fact that you hadn’t been touched in a while or not, either way, Seungmin can’t contain himself when he starts thrusting properly. 

His cock glides in like melted butter, the lewd wet sounds making you want to hide from embarrassment. But Seungmin revels in it like it’s about to slip through his fingers like sand. So he lowers his body onto yours, resting some of his weight comfortably on you. It’s intimate yes, but it enables Seungmin to start whispering things in your ear. 

“So fucking wet for me, aren’t you?” He purrs. “Such a good girl for taking all of my cock, especially for someone who hasn’t been touched in a while. Just opened up for me so easily.” 

No words could ever spring to your mind in response to that, but it causes your body and mind to have a reaction you’re all too familiar with from about five minutes ago. That tingly feeling starts creeping up inside you the longer Seungmin keeps fucking you. His cock repetitively hits such a deep sweet spot that you don’t think anyone’s ever reached before. 

“S-Seungmin…it feels…fuck it feels so good,” you moan right in his ear, your arms clinging to his back. 

“Yeah?” He chuckles. “I bet it does with the way that you’re clenching around me.” 

Seungmin just keeps finding ways to unintentionally embarrass you, but if there’s one thing that he’s learnt about you and himself, it’s that he likes seeing you so flustered. He thinks it’s cute. In saying that, he doesn’t want to get too caught up in things when the euphoria that has already built itself impossibly high starts making itself known.

Just like you, Seungmin feels too good right now. He’s doused in warmth from the heat wrapping around his cock and the way that your walls keep involuntarily clamping around him. 

“S’too much…” you gasp for air, fingers digging into his clothed arms at this point. “M’gonna cum again please.”

Seungmin presses himself up away from your body but still thrusting at his same pace, “go on then. I want to see your face when you do.” 

It washes over you quickly and he’s fast to clock onto the small reactions beginning to change. The only thing that doesn’t alter is the fucked-out look you have on your face. That remains all the way up until the bliss starts packing its punch. Seungmin’s hips don’t hamper your orgasm, not when he watches your eyes roll back and sees the words to describe how you’re feeling become lodged in your throat. 

“Y-Yes!” you call out, your voice echoing throughout the empty classroom. Your wet walls convulse around Seungmin’s cock, clutching onto him for dear life as you cum hard. 

“I suppose that’s why you cum so easily, huh?” He asks, catching his breath. “Because nobody’s been touching you? Poor thing.” 

Your cheeks burn a bright red as Seungmin continues to fuck you, right up until he’s had his fill. Regardless of how overstimulated you are, he can’t stop because he’s nearly there. His hips stutter forward a few times as he chases the tail of his orgasm, getting hit with it right at the last second. 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” he lowers his head, watching where his cock keeps disappearing into and listening to your whimpers. It’s all enough to tip him right over the edge and into a pool of warm euphoria. “Yes – fuck!” 

With a few more grunts and thrusts, Seungmin slows right down as he cums inside you. For a split second there, his vision started to go splotchy. It reminded him of the fact that he hasn’t cum that hard in a while. In saying that, you get to bask in the warm sensation that fills your lower half. 

“Shit,” he gasps, breathing heavily. In the back of his mind, something told him that he shouldn’t have done that. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” you swallow, trying to dampen your dry throat. “You’re lucky I’m into that.” 

He lets out a breathy chuckle and for the first time, you’ve actually seen Seungmin genuinely smile. 

-

A/N: I’m not going to lie, I kind of want to make a part 2 to this but reader finds out that she’s pregnant lmao

[luciferlightbringer]

Love in a Hopeless Place

Chapter 6

Hi lovelies! Please be warned that this is a heavier chapter that discusses trauma and depictions of violence! I'm sure I'm going overboard with the warnings, but I'm just wanting to make sure I cover all of my bases here! xoxo, Dany

Chapter 5|Chapter 6|Chapter 7|Updated through Chapter 12

Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 5.3k CW: Slowburn, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, cuddles, depression, anxiety, protective "not-boyfriend" !Trigger Warning!: Physical violence, abuse, neglect, vague mentionings of underage sex work, drug use, torture, and drug dealing

The next couple of days seemed to creep by more slowly for the both of you, nothing drastic, just... slower, more... unpleasant. It could have been because of how good everything felt to be with each other, but at least for you, there had been another new factor.

You had still been seeing other clients while working for Lucifer, and sure, he took up the largest amount of time, but there were still others, some one offs and some regulars, and a handful of new clients. Most of them didn't give you much grief, but one of your newer clients had taken quite a shine to you, and wanted to see you more often. He was... ok...ish... not really. He was a little selfish, which was fine, but he also had an aggressive personality, and not the fun kind. He had not done anything "bad" to you yet, but he toed the line and that made you nervous.

This had not been as much of an issue until someone tipped him off that you did house calls it was Cynthhhhia, and in the last two days he had asked for you to go to his place, and he seemed to push the boundaries more outside of the brothel. Larry had always told you that if anyone made you ladies uncomfortable, that you could put them on your "No Kiss List", basically being banned from being scheduled with you, and depending on the intensity of the issue they could also get banned from the Lounge entirely.

Again, at this point, this newer guy, Jethro, had not done anything yet, so you still felt like you could handle him, but he was still a cause for some stress. The night of your next visit with Lucifer was a welcome one. When you got too Lucifer's, you pulled him into a tight embrace. He welcomed your hug, but noticed that it felt a little different, a little heavier than usual.

"Well hello to you too! Haha! Hey, you doing ok?" he said, looking at you with soft concern as your released him from your embrace.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?" you smiled, trying to hide your stress from the day.

"Oh nothing, you just uh... felt a little tense is all," he said sheepishly.

"Oh! Haha, ya it's nothing. Just a long day. Lots of clients, lots of... you know," you said trailing off.

"Of course! Haha, how silly of me! Do you, uh... need a minute? Do you want to, like, take a bath or shower or something?" he asked, "By yourself of course! I'm sure a minute to yourself would be nice. Plus, I still need to finish up with dinner," he added nervously, he felt his checks tint pink.

You chuckled, you thought it was funny when Lucifer would overthink his statements and felt like he needed to clarify something.

"That sounds nice, I might just take you up on that," you smile.

"Great!" he smiled, "Chose any bathroom you like, dinner should be ready in like 30 minutes."

The two of you part ways as you headed to one of the close-by guest bathrooms and Lucifer headed back to the kitchen. Lucifer had some updates that he had wanted to tell you about from Charlie's meeting with Heaven, but he figured that could wait a little longer. Plus, he was now preoccupied by his own dumb comment.

'"You want to take a bath or shower or something? By yourself, of course!" no duh, you idiot! She understood that's what you meant, why did you felt like you needed to clarify that?! Why do you gotta be so weird sometimes?!' he scolded himself as he made his way to the kitchen. Lucifer definitely had people that would cook for him, but he liked that it gave him something to do sometimes while he waited for you to get there in the evenings.

Meanwhile, you drew yourself a bath and slipped into it. You examined the bruises on your legs and chest from where your earlier guest had bitten and grabbed you. You were normally all for kinks like these, but these feel more forceful, and therefore made you upset to look at. You hid your legs under the water and just floated in the big tub for a while.

You smiled to yourself again as you thought of Lucifer stumbling over himself 'You want to take a bath or shower or something? By yourself, course!' followed by that little nervous smile. It was cute, and it was funny that he kept forgetting that he could just request that if he wanted to. You wouldn't have minded, you honestly would have liked it. He would be so warm and soft, snuggling into your chest in the warm water. You realized you had only ever seen him down to a barely opened shirt, while he has seen you down to your lingerie, for a fleeting minute.

How odd it was, that he had been one of your longest running and most consistent clients and yet, you too had not been sexually intimate at all. It was nice, but also... a little disappointing? Why was that disappointing? Why did you care? And why did you actually like the thought of bathing with him?

Your thought process was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Uhh... occupied?" you said.

"There you are!" you could hear Lucifer through the door. "Jesus Christ, darling why do I have so many bathrooms?"

You shrugged, "Uhh.. cuz you're rich and its funny?"

"Hmm... That is true..." Lucifer chuckled on the other side of the door, "Anyways, dinner is ready whenever you are!"

"Ok!" you called out, and you started to get ready. As Lucifer walked away, he paused for a moment, thinking about how you were naked on the other side of the door.

He shook his head and kept walking, "Dude, stop it," he said quietly to himself.

A few minutes later, you were out, a toweling off your hair, back in your earlier clothes.

"How are you feeling?" said Lucifer as you entered the room.

"Much better, thank you," you said with a smile.

You and Lucifer sat down to eat, and Lucifer was finally able to tell you about the whole ordeal of setting up the Heaven with meeting the exhausting bureaucracy and drama of it all, and then... the aftermath of Charlie's meeting. Charlie had gone up with Vaggie, met with a bunch of the angels and seraphim, including Adam, the first man and leader of the yearly exterminations, and his right hand exorcist, Lute, and... it did not go well. Charlie had gotten them to start actually start thinking about the whole issue, then Adam dropped the whole "extermination" thing on the counsel, and most of the angels in the room knew nothing about the extermination of souls in hell! Consider the tea, spilled. Then on top of that, the council said their was not proof sinners could be redeemed, and Adam basically declared war on the Hotel.

Well, this was very stressful, but in a way that made you care more and made you forget about your worries from earlier in the day. You thought about Lucifer, Charlie, Vaggie, Angel... everyone at the hotel... You were wondering how they were feeling, how they were going to get out of this. So much for your idea about moving into the hotel. You chuckled to yourself.

"What is it?" Lucifer asked.

"Oh... it's stupid," you say with a wave of your hand, Lucifer gives you a look. You sigh, "Just... puts a little damper on my daydream to try out the hotel."

Lucifer cocked his head to the side, "You were thinking about moving to the hotel?"

You sat back and shrugged, "It was... a passing thought. Nothing serious. I realize that probably would have made things complicated, it's probably just easier this way."

Lucifer studied your face, "Maybe after the next extermination, see what happens. I just don't want you to get caught up in all of that right now."

"Ya," you say, staring off. Your worries returning back to thoughts of Charlie and the others.

Lucifer read the concern on your face, and placed a hand over yours. You looked up to meet his soft smile.

"It's gonna be ok..." he said with hesitation. "I don't exactly know how it is going to be ok, I would be lying if I said it wasn't nervous... but I trust my daughter... and her friends seem to be good people... outside of Alastor," his glared off to the side at the mentioning of the Radio Demon.

He was right, maybe not all hope was lost, maybe Charlie would figure out something. You smile at the face he made, then looked down at his hand on top of yours. Your face shifted in thought in response to something he had just said, "her friends seem to be good people..." Did he really believe that? Did that visit really change his mind that much? That's not what he had made it sound like the other day. You had forgotten about that comment, and now the reminder left you with a bitter taste.

Lucifer looked over and caught your expression, "What's on your mind?"

You look at him sideways, "Do you really believe that? That her friends are good people?"

"Well... as far as I have seen, why do you say that?" he said with worried confusion.

You look up at him, "I just thought that sinners were all violent psychopaths, hell-bent on causing as much pain a destruction as they can."

Lucifer froze, shit did he really say that the other day to his daughter, in front of you and all of Charlie's friends? Yeesh.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "Jeez, I really did say that didn't I?" You gave him a slow judgmental nod. He sighed, "I... I was wrong, I shouldn't have said that... I'm sorry... I realized that I have never really taken the opportunity to actually get to know many sinners, and I've passed a lot of judgement on them the last... 10,000 years. They are not like that... you, are definitely not like that... Honestly, meeting you has made me really confused on the matter of how they decide who ends up here entirely."

Your slight distain turned you curiosity, and you raised an eyebrow, "How so?"

Lucifer took a minute to try and find the words, "Uhh, well... fuck, ok... I guess I just don't understand why you are in hell in the first place. The way you treat people puts people I used to know in Heaven to shame."

You blow a puff of air out your nose in a laugh, "Maybe the way I treat you and hotel people, I'm not like this with everyone, you know?"

"Well ya... but still..." Lucifer held back his next question a moment, he didn't want to say anything to upset you. "Can I ask... um... how you ended up here?"

You prop your head up on your hand and thought, being alive felt so long ago. Lucifer waited nervously for you to answer, but he was pretty sure you didn't look mad at the question.

"You really wanna know?"

He nodded.

"Well... I was the oldest child of drug addict parents, who had no right having any kids, spent much of my life fending for myself and my siblings, my parents would not stop having fucking kids and I was basically the only parent for them. I had to do... whatever I could for them, steal from neighbors, stores, random people's cars, anything to get food and money for my siblings. When I was older, my grandmother got custody of us and it got a lot better, but we struggled a lot mentally and it was hard to shake the old habits. She had to knock some sense into me to stop stealing, but I could never get past the idea of needing to be the parent of the house. I didn't go to school until end of middle school, and when I started it was hard, I skipped school, never finished an education. I wanted to... but I was way too far behind by that point, and with so many kids, grandma couldn't get all of us caught up. I encouraged her to focus on the younger ones. I tried getting a normal job, but I ended up meeting shitty people and I get ended up selling drugs and my body to get by. It wasn't great but it made me money. I had bad and sub-par relationships, nothing great. During my last relationship, I was actually starting to learn about boundaries and shit, feeling like it might actually go somewhere... and then I was killed during a bad drug deal," you looked back at Lucifer casually as you finished your story.

Lucifer looked at you with so much heartbreak in his eyes. No pity, no belittlement, no tears, just sadness. "How are you still so full of kindness then? After all of that?"

You smiled, "Partly cuz I can act, but mostly because... everything stupid, reckless, or "sinful" I ever did... it was for my siblings. I always thought that I would damn myself to hell so that they didn't have to." You shook your head, "I sure did damn myself to hell, but... I don't know how successful I was, my siblings always seemed mad or annoyed with me... but... I just loved them all so much."

Lucifer stood up and wrapped his arms around you as you remained sitting, your head at his chest level. You were taken by surprise, but hugged him back, "What's this for?"

He released you slightly from his hug, and held your face in his hands. "If you gave your siblings even an ounce of the care you have shown me, I know you were successful, and I know they will never forget the sacrifices you made for them."

Your eyes go wide, 'Could it... could it be? Could he be right? Could you have saved them? Saved them from the same pain you endured? Could your actions have changed the course of their lives? Could you have saved them from a fate in hell?' Tears started to form in your eyes. 'No. No. No no no no no. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, no crying in front of Lucifer.' You rip your face away from Lucifer's hands and wipe your face before the tears fall.

Lucifer ached to see you tear yourself away and wipe your tears. Until this moment, he had never realized how much of a wall you had up, how much you protected yourself, how much space you gave to him and how little you gave for yourself. He knew the dynamics were weird, this not being a normal friendship and all. Those dynamics were starting to make him so frustrated, he just wanted to hold you every night and tell you how much he cared about you... but things were way too messy now. He had no idea how to untangle this, and emotionally vulnerable conversations did not seem like the best idea right now with everything going on.

"Sorry," you say as you finish wiping your tears, "Thank you, really, I mean it. I'm just... not used to that."

Lucifer smiled, "Well... I hope this can be a good... beginning to that..."

'Nice job Lucifer, fucking nailed it, idiot.' he thought you himself.

You laugh, he laughed with you. Alright, enough of that, time for some tv and snuggles. You also remembered another question you had for Lucifer from you day at the hotel. You asked Lucifer about how he could teleport, and asked if the driver was necessary or if he could just pick you up from your apartment for your evenings together. He didn't know why he hadn't thought about that before, he had been worried about people following the car back to his place, or bothering you, and that would make him feel better. Plus, it would be cool to see your place. You guys made a plan for him to just teleport in to grab you in the future.

______________________________________________________________

The next couple of weeks were a weird mixture of fun and stressful, Lucifer started teleporting in to get you right at your set meeting time and he got to see your place. It was... small, really small, and there wasn't much to it. He made a comment oh how "minimalist" it was, but you just said you didn't need a lot, you weren't used to much, which wasn't completely a lie, but you didn't want to worry him with images of the other girls trying to break into your room.

Outside of that, Lucifer had the added stressors of worrying about Charlie, the hotel, and the upcoming extermination/war with Adam. You would go a visit the hotel crew with him often, but it only seemed to ease his mind while he was there. He started to complain again about struggling a little with sleep, he would fall asleep fine, especially with you there, but he started having nightmares that would wake him up in the middle of the night and would make it hard for him to fall back asleep. You were frustrated that you did not know how to help him with that, but you also knew he could take care of himself. You couldn't fix all of his problems.

You on the other hand... had reached a boiling point with Jethro. He continued to ignoring safe words, become more controlling, manipulative, and aggressive, until one day you had enough. You stopped the scene you were in and told him that he would not stand for his behavior anymore. Jethro did not like this, and you left his house with a black eye, as well as several other bruises across your body, may be even a sprain. You ran back to the Lounge as quickly as you could, trying desperately not to cry in public.

You got into the Lounge and ran up to your room to hide. Luckily, one of the girls you were closer to saw you, and told Larry. Larry texted you, asking what happened and if he could come up to talk to you. You agreed. Larry came up to your room, you opened the door for him to see you in tears, covered in bruises, trying to ice your eye. You told Larry what happened, and he told you he was putting Jethro on your "No Kiss List", banning him from the Lounge, and that he would handle Jethro if he tried coming back in.

You thanked him, he patted your shoulder, and asked if you wanted you clients canceled for the rest of the day. You asked who was left for the day, and the only one left was "Lance". You shook your head, just asking that no walk-ins get scheduled with you between then and now so that you could be ready by "Lance's" appointment. Larry agreed, and left you to your wounds. You had no idea how you were going to pull your yourself together and hide this all from Lucifer by tonight, but you had to try.

You went into the bathroom, ran a bath, played some music, and cried, partly from the pain, partly from fear. You were so in your head from the experience, that you did not do as well keeping track of time. Before long, Lucifer teleported into your room. Lucifer was a little shocked to not see you in your room, but then he heard the music from the bathroom. Oh ok, you must have been just running a little late.

He want to go knock on the door so that he knew you were there and didn't surprise you, but then he heard something else from the bathroom that made him stop. Was that... crying? Was that part of the music or was that you? He waited, the song changed, and the crying continued. That was definitely you. He finally knocked.

You were startled by the sound of the knock, "Uhhh... occupied?"

"It's me darling, I hope I didn't startle you," you heard Lucifer's voice through the door. You picked up your phone and looked at the time. Shit! You quickly got out of the tub.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, uhh... I must have lot track of time. Busy day. Lots of clients. Uhh... I'll be out in a minute!" you say has you hurried to get dressed. Luckily, you had already brought your clothes into the bathroom with you, so Lucifer wouldn't have to see all of the bruises.

"No rush! You take as much time as you need," Lucifer called back, then he went to go take a seat on your couch.

His words made you feel a little better, but you did not want to keep him waiting any longer than you already had. You quickly did what you could to put on makeup to cover up the big bruise around your eye, you could cover the coloring just fine, it was the swelling you were worried about. It had gone down a little, but it might still be noticeable.

Part of you wishes you had canceled on him, but that would have made you sad more than anything else, and it probably would have worried him. That is if he actually cared about you. Errrr... stop that. Lucifer is not like Jethro or the others, he actually does care, at least... to some amount. You just did not want anyone to see you like this, but especially him.

Eventually you finished your makeup and looked at yourself, it would have to be good enough for today. You painted your best sweet smile on your face, and walked out the door.

"All done! Ready to go?" you said cheerful.

"Yup!" Lucifer said, trying to match your cheerful tone, but he was worried. Why had you been crying? Why were you now trying to hide it? Why were you wearing so much make up today? He hadn't seen you wear this much make up since the first few appointments you guys had. He remembered that Charlie once said girls sometimes wear more make up when they were sad because "If you look better, you feel better", so he didn't comment. He just smiled, wrapped an arm around you, and teleported you both back to his place.

You were already more relieved to be back at his place, the stress of the day still held tightly to you, but it was better here. You swung your arms around Lucifer, enveloping him in a hug. Lucifer held you back tightly, softly but firmly. He was so comforting and soft, you wanted to live in that embrace.

He didn't know what was making you so sad that day, but he wanted to do everything to make you feel better. He had your favorite dinner and dessert made, grabbed you your favorite blanket for when you guys would cuddle on the couch and watch tv later, and he was going to find that tv last that you said you used to like to watch sometimes when you were alive, "The Office."

At one point, during desert, Lucifer looked over at you and saw a strand of hair flop down front of your face. He reached over to tuck it behind your ear, but because of the angle, you didn't see his hand until it was almost near your swollen eye. You flinched and practically jumped out of your chair, shouting "No!" and covering you eye with you hand, the other was wide with panic.

Lucifer flinched his hand back, and stayed still. What was that about? You had never reacted like that before.

"Darling, is everything alright? I didn't mean to startle you," he said softly, worry painting his face.

You realize you had misunderstood what he had been trying to do and panicked, 'Shit! Shit, shit, shit!' You couldn't tell what was the greater emotion in that moment, the shame of reacting to Lucifer, or the fact that the emotions from earlier where about to bubble up again. 'Do I try to push it down? Do I run for the bathroom? Shit. There is no hiding it, is there? He is going to find out about it now.'

You start to sit back down, still covering your eye, "I, uhh... I'm sorry... I don't... I didn't mean to yell at you like-"

"(y/n)" Lucifer said firmly, you look at him with your uncovered eye, tears starting to fill up the edge of your vision, "Please. Please tell me what's wrong. Why are you covering your eye? What made you jump so hard?"

You start to breathe heavily, "Are you sure you want to know?" you say with tears in your voice.

"Yes, my darling, I do. More than anything," Lucifer said, standing up slowly to come closer to you.

You look down, breathe, and lower you hand. Now that he was looking right at your eye, he could see how swollen it was under all of the make up.

"Is that... a black eye?" he said panicked. You nodded. He started to put some context clues together.

"Someone did this to you?" he asked, a little more sternness in his voice. You nodded again, the tears were starting to fall. "Someone from the Lounge?"

You nodded, "A client," you whispered.

"Did he do anything else?" he asked, trying to hold back the growing anger in his voice. You nodded. "Can you show me?" You froze, looking down, more tears falling, "Please don't be mad at me, I didn't want you to know, this shouldn't be something you worry about-"

"Darling," he says cutting you off again, "I am not mad at you, I am however mad at the sick fuck that did this to you. And I will worry about you, because I want to. Do you understand me?" You were not used to hearing him talk like this, it was scary, but in a comforting way. His words were growing in anger, but you understood it was not at you, it was for you.

You look up at him to see that his eyes had changed color, basically inverted, black slitted pupils now surrounded by golden irises and deep blood red sclera. They were terrifying and beautiful at the same time. You nodded, finally answering his question, and you started to take off your sweater. Lucifer saw your arms and torso littered with different sizes of bruises and deep bite marks. At the sight of them, horns grew out from his temples and a tail lashed out from his back. Again, he looked scarier, but for some reason, you were not afraid. You actually felt... safe? You had never seen someone so mad for you before.

Lucifer gently and slowly reached out for your arm, trying to make sure not to scare you further. "Is it like this on your legs too?" You nodded. You were about to ask if he needed to see them, when he pulled you into a tight hug. You were confused, but welcomed it. His hugs were always nice but this one felt, even better? All of your bruises and bites started to feel, lighter, and then the pain was gone. Lucifer released from your hug, and you looked down to see all of your marks were gone.

'He could heal too?! Fuck, is there anything he can't do?'

"Better?" he asked. You nodded. "Good, now. I'm gonna need a name and location. Now." he paused, "please."

You hesitated, you weren't supposed to tell anyone who you had been meeting with. But... he had not specifically asked for digression, and he was banned from the Lounge, and it would probably save Larry and the girls some trouble, and... fuck it, it was hell! Who cared!

"What are you going to do to him?" you asked. He smirked with a wicked smile, carefully reached out to softly hold your chin, and with a demonic resonance to his voice, he whispered, "Why darling, I'm going to make him suffer in a way that this realm has not tortured and tormented a soul in EONS, I am going to rip him his own dimension of time and space where he will be able to experience his body being ripped apart, piece by piece, and put back together, over and over again, for the rest of eternity."

You had no idea how to picture that and you didn't care... it was terrifying, but Lucifer's power was fucking HOT.

"Uhh... Jethro Hanson. Big house out in Pentagram city, near the inner city, very bright red, can't miss it," you spit out. He smiles, unfurls his six, big, beautiful wings from his back, gives you a soft kiss on the hand and says, "I'll be right back," before opening a portal above him and flying into it. It closes behind you and leaves you alone, in the dining room.

Your heart was racing, there were too many feelings swirling inside your mind, joy, sadness, rage, fear... lust. God, his full demon form was hot, what the hell? After a few minutes, the adrenaline wore off, and you found yourself on the couch starting to cry again, but this time... it felt GOOD. These tears were cathartic like nothing you had ever felt before, a hard, powerful cry.

After about 15-20 minutes, Lucifer reappeared, the same as he looked when he had left, just wiping his hands on themself after a job well done, as you would after a job well done. Lucifer heard your cries and ran to you, getting in his knees in front of you on the couch and cocooning you in his wings.

"Darling, what's the matter? I'm so sorry, did I scare you?" he said with words full of worry.

You shook your head, smiling and pressing your forehead to his, "No. Not at all. I'm just... I'm good. Really. I'm just not used to... feeling cared about, and... protected..." You choke out, before continuing to sob.

'Shit, shit, ok, what do I do?' he thought to himself. Then he remembered. He retracted his horns and tail, set his eyes back to their normal color, picked you up, laid down on the couch, and positioned you to lay on top of him, your head on his chest, wings wrapped around you. As you laid there, he rubbed your back as you continued to cry. "And as long as I am here, you will never have to know life without that, ever again," he said softly, so softly that you couldn't make it out over the sound of your own sobs.

Slowly, your tears started get get quieter, and your breathing started to slow. As Lucifer laid there with you on his chest, he started to card his fingers through you hair. What a dream you were to him, he had be so cared for by you, and now he was able to give that care back to you. That was honestly all he had wanted, was to have someone to be cared by and for. To have... someone to love.

Love?

Love.

'Oh my god... do I love her?' he thought at he looked down at your soft face. Studying the features of your face as you laid on his chest with this new idea, everything suddenly made sense. The nervousness, the desire for closeness, the way you lit up his world, the way your smile would wash his cares away.

He loved you.

That was about to make everything wayyyy more complicated.

______________________________________________________________

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[ironunderstands]

I’m having some Aventio thoughts.. :3

Possessive Aventurine urghhh Aventurine who won’t let Ratio out of his sight for more than 10 minutes when they are out together out of fear, Aventurine who is terrified he will lose someone else he loves and will hold Ratio’s hand at any opportunity he gets, Aventurine who mildly and vaguely threatens anyone who so much as looks at Ratio badly…. AAAAAAAAA

Like usually I don’t enjoy the “you’re mine” kinda trope/mindset, but Aventurine has lost practically everything and everyone close to him so I can see him being extremely, well, possessive, of Ratio. However he would still obviously respect the others boundaries (especially due to his trauma), it’s just I can see him keeping Ratio as close as he possibly can.

I think that’s why I like writing fics where Aventurine is rescuing/saving/protecting/etc Ratio because he needs the ability to care for someone like that just as much as Ratio needs the ability to just let go and be vulnerable

Like Ratio already spends all his time trying to help others so having someone else do it for him is a welcome change, and Aventurine constantly has all eyes on him, so not having to be the center of attention for once is freeing..

..which is also why I probably prefer dom aven/sub ratio when it comes to nsfw/suggestive content of them. It’s more interesting than the alternatives to me because it’s a dynamic that would benefit both of them and help work out their issues in canon. Not saying it’s some magic fix it or something but yeah I think Ratio needs to give up his control sometimes and Aventurine needs to gain some. I feel like people downplay how sex can be used to explore character dynamics and I know this is kinda off course for what I usually write/talk about but I just haven’t seen anyone discuss it so I thought it was worth mentioning.

Moving onwards, I really love writing Ratio when he’s not in a normal state of mind. Drunk, injured, sleepy, a fucking owl (IM WORKING ON THE FIC THANK YOU @aurae-rori FOR HELPING ME BETA ITS AT 6.3/~10k WORDS IM GONNA TRY AND FINISH IT SOON I PROMISE), etc.

Whatever one of these you decide to inflict upon Ratio allows for some really interesting characterization to be enabled, because well, the man’s a tsundere, and it’s kinda hard for him to keep that up when he doesn’t have the capacity to. Honestly I view his tsundere-ness as being half voluntary/a choice and half just the way he is because he’s not very good at expressing his emotions or dealing with other people’s emotions.

However if I were to say, make him drunk, a good portion of that barrier breaks and Ratio’s true self gets exposed, and he nor Aventurine nor anyone really know how to deal with that. It’s so much fun to just put a character out of their element and see what they do next, and I think messing with Ratio’s mental state is the epitome of that, because now he has to confront the fact that he IS hiding parts of himself, and that’s scary (in a good way).

I also think Aventurine dealing with the fact that someone just genuinely lives him but is too afraid to really show it would be compelling. Would he blame himself? Would he dig into it and accidentally cross Ratio’s boundaries, then feel horrible about it? Would he doubt that it’s really real until it becomes transparently clear that Ratio does love him? Oh the possibilities..

Would he see Ratio being kind to someone in a similar way that Ratio is to him and get jealous? Would he worry that maybe he isn’t special to him and is just selfishly imagining everything?

They make me insane.

[brigdh]

I want to talk about Izzy's rant to Ed in episode 10, the one that brings out the Kraken. I've seen a lot of different descriptions of what is going on in this scene – death threat, homophobic slurs, etc – and I don't think either of those are what's actually what's happening.

Let's look at it closely, line by line, and the way Ed reacts, from the very beginning of the scene.

Ed: Well, feels nice to tidy up a little. Can't believe I was living like this. Can you, Iz? Izzy? Izzy: I'm going to speak plainly. Ed: Wonderful. You know we share our thoughts on this ship.

Izzy, cont: This, whatever it is that you've become... is a fate worse than death.

Okay. So there we've got what some have interpreted as a death threat. But does Ed seem threatened? He's startled, certainly, put on his back foot – literally – but he doesn't look afraid or alarmed to me. He draws in a slow breath, assessing the situation, but overall seems more confused than frightened.

In fact he laughs it off with his next line:

Izzy then escalates the level of aggression in the conversation:

But Ed, again, looks more confused than anything. Check out that furrowed brow, that head tilt! This is a man going "what is your deal?", not a man thinking "uh-oh, you might kill me!".

Extremely noticeably, even when Izzy storms right up into his face, Ed holds steady. He doesn't run, doesn't lean back, doesn't hunch his shoulders or drop eye contact – there is no vulnerability or defensiveness in Ed's body language at all. Ed is in supreme control of this confrontation – look at the slow way he deigns to turn back to the paper Izzy's holding! As though he's making the point that he chooses when to turn, not Izzy:

Then we have the "homophobic slur". But watch closely:

Ed does not react to "namby-pamby", "silk gown", or "pining" at all. He doesn't even blink. He barely seems like he's hearing Izzy. His entire attention is on the picture.

Ed's body language and behavior changes at one word and one word only, and that is "boyfriend". As soon as Izzy says it, Ed's furious:

(It's even easier to notice when you actually watch the scene instead of using gifs, because Izzy really draws out 'piiiiiiining', putting a lot of time between the first half of the sentence and 'boyfriend'.)

Why is the use of the word 'boyfriend' so important?

Well, what has Ed been doing all episode? He's been crying in a blanket fort and singing sad songs, yes, but he's been keeping a careful level of mystique about why he's doing it. Ed often uses distanced circumlocutions instead of directly acknowledging his emotions, but he's doing it in this episode even more so than usual:

Here are the lyrics to his song:

(Version one, with Lucius) Hanging on By a thread Hanging on Shouldn't let go If I let go, all will fall Fingers bleeding down to the bone now Can't let go Nothing makes sense Hold on Hold on Hold... on

(Version two, performed for the whole crew) Just let go Make yourself let go Make it go away Away, away today Life's a hard sad death And then you're Deaaad

Notice something? There is no mention of Stede, or love, or break-ups, or abandonments, or relationships in general. All Ed discusses is a vague life-sucks attitude, which could apply to basically anyone under any circumstances. He seems pretty okay with people knowing that Blackbeard is having some sort of weird emotional breakdown as long as he convinces himself that no one knows it's specifically from having his heart broken

This is true of everything Ed says and does for this entire episode. He never once even mentions Stede's name, unless "Farewell, Bonnet's playthings" at the very end counts. The only thing Ed openly admits to feeling bad about is a fictional character who's having a hard time "holding on" (holding on to what? he never says). There are no allusions to heartbreak or romance anywhere in his dialogue.

Now, Ed's not stupid. I'm sure he knows Izzy and Lucius and the rest of the crew can connect the dots and realize that something bad happened with Stede, even if Ed doesn't fill them in on the details. But Ed is also traumatized, and has a whole host of coping mechanisms set up to help him avoiding thinking about things that he doesn't want to think about. If he's not a murderer because "technically the fire killed those guys", then no one knows he's heartbroken because technically he hasn't acknowledged it.

Until Izzy says the word 'boyfriend'. Suddenly the secret is out, and Ed can't handle it. Izzy knows his weakness. That's why this word effects Ed more than anything else Izzy says in the whole scene.

At the end of the confrontation, he hears the crew calling for another song. Look at Ed here. He looks as haunted, as disturbed, in this moment as he does at any point in Izzy's rant.

This is an important part of the scene, not just a closing note. Because if Izzy (the Caribbean's most emotionally constipated man) can see through him, obviously the whole crew can too.

Obviously Lucius – who advised Ed on his and Stede's relationship, who played along with Ed's 'fictional character' claim, who wrote down Ed's lyrics – can do so most of all.

There's a direct emotional logic to Ed killing Lucius because he had a fight with Izzy, and it doesn't involve Ed having been threatened or hate crime'd at all. Ed doesn't deal well with his own feelings (from Stede), so he chooses to become Blackbeard/the Kraken and gets rid of all the witnesses who saw otherwise.

[vexwerewolf]

hey, I saw a post reblogged around hating the whole idea of no kink at pride and wanted to understand why that was, but noticed the comments were turned off, so I'm asking here. for reference I dont know very much about the subject and had the general idea that pride should be an all ages space, BUT (the but is very important) since I dont have much knowledge on the subject and can see you are very opinionated around it, id like to know why that is your stance from, well, someone who actually holds that stance.

No pressure to answer I simply want to understand why others hold this stance, the potential history behind it and if I am looking at things the wrong way, a chance to change my opinion

I hope all of this comes across correctly because im not trying to start internet discourse, just learn and have a well rounded understanding of a subject before taking a more solid stance

CW: discussion of sex, homophobia, kink, common anti-kink lies

Okay so if you're not read up on queer history, you have to understand that "deviant," "indecent" or "degenerate" sexuality is an accusation that's been used to repress queer people for pretty much as long as the concept has existed. It has often extended so far as to encompass any form of sex that isn't missionary cishet boning for the purpose of procreation, but it has always and by definition encompassed any and all ways that queer people have sex.

Now, I want to be clear that the LGBTQ+ community is not entirely about sex. Our community touches love, passion, art, gaming, basically every sphere of human experience, but it also includes sex. A lot of queer people like to have sex! Queer people, however, are judged for having and enjoying sex in a way that straight people simply aren't.

It's important to note that the concept of "degeneracy" is a vital component to white supremacist repression of queer people, because it inserts the necessary moral proposition that allows sex between two consenting adults to be labelled as harmful. As cynical as I am about the general public, it's actually pretty difficult to convince the average person that gay sex is something the government needs to repress in and of itself; any argument to this effect needs to come packaged with an additional, vaguely credible concern about social corrosion.

This is much easier to do with kinksters, because kinksters are weirder-looking than shirt-and-slacks queers (who, to be clear, are equally valid). But it's still difficult to make the average member of the public balk, because they'll say "well that sure is freaky but so long as they're doing it in private, who gives a shit?" So long as the people you're trying to stir up hate against aren't doing anything illegal, the average member of the public is gonna think you're the weird one for digging into other peoples' private sex lives.

Thus, the easiest avenue of attack is Pride, where it isn't in private. But it's a fucking deceitful canard. Straight people never have to answer for public displays of their sexuality, which are often far more gratuitous than some dude walking around in a pup mask.

[ash-says]

Tips on how to dodge personal questions in a Professional Setting:

I know. I know. I said I will be on a break and I still stand by that but it was difficult to throw away the sudden surge of motivation so here I am.

I received a request to make a post on this long back so here is your girl serving it. Honestly I am not much of an expert at it either but I have some ways that work sometimes so here goes nothing.

1) Do not give in to the pressure.

Literally that's the starting point. Whenever someone asks us a personal question we feel obligated at some level to answer because of xyz reasons. That's why we first need to escape the pressure of answering.

2) Straightforwardly and Politely state I am not comfortable answering that.

The bulletproof method. No explanation needed.

3) If you are in a situation where the person is being really nosy and can't take a no for an answer. Try saying to them,"I don't understand how it's relevant to our topic of discussion."

4) If you are not in a position to decline at all which happens when the person asking the question is of higher authority and has influence in this situation give vague answers that lead nowhere.

Example: So are you dating anyone?

It's tough to say in particular you know the dating scene nowadays it's difficult to put a name on anything.

Or what do you do on your weekends?

Nothing just the usuals. I am an office worker after all.

This creates a sense of familiarity with the crowd but at the same time does not reveal anything in precision.

5) Turn the topic on them. One of the smartest things you can do is make them the central focus. People love to talk about themselves so it works most of the time until you come across someone truly smart.

Example: hey how's the new office? Are you liking it here?

Ans: Well I am still getting used to the environment here. What about you? How long have you been working here?

6) Another thing you can do is dance around the topic but not on the topic. You remember how you used to write a 1 mark question for 5 marks exactly like that. Tell the prequel and sequel of the question but never answer the exact question.

7) This one is kinda rude I won't suggest doing it around randomly but if you have been in the corporate space for sometime you would know that there are some people who like to ask things only to belittle you or spread gossip or to be mean. The jealous ones that don't have a life of their own.

In case they ask something or say something rude or cross a boundary just start singing a song or change the topic completely. Don't acknowledge anything they say and continue with your random talks or humming. Trust me it's the easiest way to get rid of them.

Still some are persistent and will try to get an answer. Simply say it's not worth discussing. It's boring.

8) Apart from that there are subtle things you can do which can create a persona that conveys you are not open towards personal questions. You can do it by simply detaching yourself whenever someone starts talking about their personal lives. Don't be a participant or a listener. It gives a que you are not looking to bond personally and many other similar things.

9) If you are truly in a toxic work culture where your colleagues seem to constantly bug and bully you to share personal stuff (happened with me in my previous workplace) Firmly state,"I come here to work not to make personal relations."

10) Ignore.

I hope it helps even a little there's not much we can do without offending the other person but we can be gentle and polite in our tone and gesture that's the only way.

That's all for today's show on ash-says. Stay tuned for more illegal tricks and explosive opinions.

[yuurei20]

(This was originally an ask received through Twitter)

"Hello! Can you please elaborate on the time loop theory in book 2 that you mentioned in the tweet where you talked about your favourite theories?"

I am wary about discussing this theory as there are many others who have put much more thought into it than I have, but I can certainly try with what I was able to find :>

(The information in this thread was combined from here, here, here, and here)

The basic theory is that everything we know is repeating in a loop in an attempt to either stop something from happening or to make something happen.

The game’s tagline of “I will show you a true happy ending” (EN: “Let us show you the real happily-ever-after”) could be insinuating that there have already been less than happy endings, and we may have already seen one: while some theorize that the events of the prologue are showing us what is going to happen in the future, others say that it is both that and something that has already happened.

The theory goes that the battle with the chimera (who may or may not be an overblotted Grim) was lost and everyone (or just the prefect) is sent back to try again, thus the opening lines of the game narrated in Crowley’s voice.

(Note: I would have translated this as “I—they—you—only have a little time left. Whatever you do, don’t let go”, but the situation is so vague that anything is possible.)

(Here is a short comic insinuating that this time loop is Crowley’s unique magic (warning: blood, death, a Yuu design))

This theory seems to be largely inspired by Mickey’s comment that he has seen the same dream three times but he also says “your voice gets clearer and clearer every time.”

Since Mickey also shows up in Books 2 and 3 but we were not able to speak with him, it is possible that this is not actually hinting at two earlier loops, just earlier events within the same timeline. This does not dismiss the time loop theory and might mean that this is Mickey’s first time interacting with the loop, but there have been far more than just two or three timelines.

(This account pretends that Book 7 does not exist yet, so that is about as specific as I can get.)

The theory gets kind of wild with references to STYX’s simulation system, supposed inconsistencies with Ace and Epel, Crowley’s potential connection to STYX, etc, but one thing that everyone seems to agree on is: Leona knows.

Leona is extremely powerful and extremely private.

He has had a number of contracts with Azul who is also a powerful mage, and according to Idia he seems like “the kind of guy who always knows he’s dreaming.”

Yana has confirmed that Idia has a part in Book 7 and, with both him and Leona halfway out of their coffins in promotional art, people are wondering if Leona will be stepping up as well.

We know that Riddle’s current personality is a 180 degree change from original plans and that this change was made pretty far into development, after everything had already been approved.

There are also rumors that Leona’s Book 2 was the original Book 6, looking at older promotional information (Book 2 was originally listed between Ignihyde and Diasomnia on the official website).

It is possible that—much like Riddle’s situation—Yana came up with a better idea than what had originally been decided, and it required shoehorning Leona’s drama into an earlier Book in order to make it work.

This would mean that Book 7 used to have significant space for Leona (there is a pattern of the previous Overblotter having a role in the next Book).

That space may have been rewritten for Idia, but it is also possible that Idia’s role was added separately and a role for Leona remains to some extent, which is why they went out of their way to say that Leona knows when he is in a dream.

Theories vary from “Leona is 100% aware of what is going on, broke free from the loop and he is the only one getting older as he tries to save the world” to “Leona knows something isn’t right but not exactly what.”

The proof that people usually point to is his comment where he is unsurprised by Grim “always” eating black stones (which he shouldn’t know anything about), but the phrasing is so vague that he could just be making the connection between the stones and a potential blot-risk.

Another scene that is often referenced in the “Leona knows” conversation is an interaction with Jamil where he accurately predicts Jamil’s attack on Kalim despite how rarely they interact before Book 6.

There are also the three white chess pieces on the chessboard in Leona’s bedroom that seem to correspond to the only three characters in the game with light cosmic magic: a white rook for Rook, a white knight for Silver and a white pawn for Kalim, whom Leona literally refers to as a pawn piece in chess during Tamashima-Mina (these three chess pieces are also displayed prominently in Leona's first Birthday groovy).

Leona also seems suspicious of Crowley, suspects what really happened in Book 5 and is able to literally sniff out magic, which we have seen no other character capable of doing.

Leona is very perceptive in general: he is suspicious of Lilia in Spectral Soiree, calls him an old man when no other character outside of Diasomnia knows his true age, is the first to figure out that Malleus is pretending to be possessed and is able to tell when someone becomes injured and is trying to hide it in both Book 6 and an event.

This is not proof that Leona knows what is happening, but it may be an argument for why it is likely that he knows more than he is willing to let on.

Some versions of the time loop theory say that the same prefect is being sent back over and over again to try and save everyone (which ties into the game’s opening), while other versions say that this is the prefect’s first time being summoned into a loop that has been going on for a long time without them, in an effort by someone (Crowley?) to change the ending of the story.

While not technically part of the game, the Twst novelization supports the first pattern while the manga series supports the second, with new prefects showing up after the previous prefect presumably fails.

Knowing Yana it is possible that the game is actually a third, entirely different pattern with the novel and manga exploring alternatives that were considered for the game but not used.

[cherryfennec]

So this was originally supposed to have a kickass artwork of the bros using the power- up and stuff but then I got sick and then I realised Im out of time and here we are so uh hieee everyone and welcome to my post-

Happy MAR10 Day! For the occasion, let's go back to the (not discussed in a long time) Power-Up headcanons. This time I'll focus on the Ice Flower (most of the lore under cut like last time)!

This was surprisingly requested by some (3) people. I'm going to be honest, I barely remembered this one at first. I kinda know how it looks and generally what it does, which will have to be enough to base this entire thing on. With that being said, I did some thinking and here's what I've got:

General headcanons;

This one has difficulty surviving outside of it's original environment. If you want to keep a batch in the house your best bet is to use the fridge/freezer, otherwise it looses both it's blue look and the stored energy. See, the Ice Flower originally wasn't (and still technically isn't) it's own flower species. Let me elaborate:

Nowadays the conditions there are not as harsh, however a rather long time ago travelers heading towards places like the Snow Mountain needed to be both be specially trained and very well equipped to even attempt a climb. A heat source was a big must, and it so happens that it often consisted of Fire Flowers. They'd put some in their coats to keep warm, as well as store a few in the backpack just in case they needed to protect themselves from monsters. When setting camp during their journeys these hikers would use the Power-Ups energy to start fires and cook food. After the flowers were depleted of their energy and entered their hibernation stage (I talked about it in my Fire Flower post), they would be simply thrown away like trash. Waiting for them to recharge was often not beneficial, especially in conditions like this, so there was ultimately no point in keeping them. However like I mentioned before, Fire Flowers are very adaptable, which actually wasn't that known at the time. Instead of wilting, these stubborn plants would try gathering energy like the usual, but since it was very cold and direct sunlight was limited, they decided to collect something else. While not all flowers made it, a few managed to amass the eminating frost and turn it into a new kind of energy which proved to be enough for their survival. With time even their petal colour changed to blueish hues. And thus the Fire Flowers in the area became Ice Flowers and over the years started populating the mountains and snowfields.

The Ice Flower is a multiple use Power-Up in theory but more often than not you'll find yourself without a place to freeze it after using one. If it's not placed in a cold environment during it's hibernation it'll either die or, more uncommonly, simply revert back to being a Fire Flower after a long process.

Mario and Luigi specific headcanons;

While the idea of being able to freeze stuff sounded cool it wasn't very fun to learn.

In Marios case imagine: you're good at something, really, REALLY good at something. Okay great, now imagine being told that your knowledge doesn't matter because now you need to do the opposite of what you've learned. Back with the theme of "elements don't mix", Mario absolutely hated how much effort he needed to put into focusing the newfound energy to barely make a tiny projectile. Even before he got the Firebrand he had enough difficulty with it, so it only got worse from there. This was one of the rare times where learning the bare basics instead of mastering a Power-Up was enough for him.

Luigi didn't really mind. The main complications came more from the vague instructions he received during training rather than his own inability. Suprisingly or not the Thunderhand didn't make this one much of a pain either, I guess anomalies attract eachother. While he doesn't consider this Power-Up as a favourite he still finds it pretty fun that he can freeze and walk on water. Did you know, he used to be pretty good at skating in high school. If you didn't he'll make sure to bring it up at a given occasion. Back to ice powers, he definitely outdoes his brother on this one, even if not by much.

There's probably one more thing I should mention. Despite the contrary belief the Ice Flower does NOT increase ones tolerance to cold temperatures. To be frank it might even decrease it by lowering the bodys natural temperature, making the chances of frostbite higher. And so, they learned it the hard way.

In conclusion, this is more of a situational Power-Up. It's neither easy to find or preserve which can be annoying but despite all this it's hard to deny that it's ultimately a useful tool.

Few bonus headcanons!

I don't know how much sense I conveyed through my broken wording and less than average writing skills but it's not that shabby if I say so myself. Just like last time some details might change in the future but for now that's the general idea that I have considering the Ice Flower. Once again thank you to whoever took the time to read this!

[wardenparker]

Next to Normal, part 2

Joel Miller x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 9k Warnings: Reader's age isn't pinpointed but you/she are old enough to remember the way the world worked before the Outbreak. Swearing, food. References to reader's past, trauma responses, Joel being the absolute softest and most gentle partner. Emotional vulnerability. Mutual nudity. Fingering. Hand job. Summary: In the months since you started your relationship with Joel, he has never pushed you for more. But Ellie thinks it's time to take the next step. Notes: As usual, I apologize for any typos that I might have missed. Ya girl is sleepy and there's a lot going on in life these days. This story was only going to be a one shot. And then it was juuuust going to be a two-parter. Well...this is part two of three. Stay tuned next week for the conclusion!

Read part 1 here!

Ellie fidgets at the table, frowning at the plate of breakfast that Joel put in front of her. Not because she doesn’t want it, but because she’s thinking hard about how to approach her question. It seems straightforward to her, but she’s learned in the last several months that he is touchy when you are the subject of conversation. He’s always in protection mode when it comes to you. She picks up a piece of unevenly toasted bread and frowns at it like it’s offended her until her eyes track back to Joel. “Are you gonna ask her to live with us?” She asks finally, knowing she doesn’t have to clarify who she means.

Joel stops with his fork halfway to his mouth, his own eggs nearly falling off as he stares at Ellie. “Why? What do you— has she—” he stops and drops the fork. “Why?” He wonders if you’ve dropped hint or if this is just the girl’s curiosity.

“That’s…what you’re supposed to do right? Like…old people style courtship?” She doesn’t really know what adult dating entails except that Joel seems to be spending every second of free time with you, and she likes you. You’re fun to have around and a lot easier to talk to than Joel or Tommy about some of the shit that she’s dealing with. “She hasn’t said anything. I just wondered.”

“Sometimes.” Joel admits, picking up his fork again and looking back down at his plate. “What do you think about that?” He tries to keep it casual, in untested waters dealing with this. He had never really dated while Sarah was young, too busy trying to keep everything together.

“She’s nice.” Ellie says, as though it was the easiest thing in the world. “And…we can trust her. That’s a hell of a lot better than some other people in this town.” In general she likes Jackson, but people are people and not everyone is trustworthy. Ellie knows that better than most. “Would you, like…marry her? Like Tommy and Maria?”

“I don’t know if she would ever want to get married.” Joel hasn’t discussed any of your past with Ellie, so she might not be aware of some of your hangups. He’s not ever even mentioned marriage just in case it might have been one of them. Not like he was a wedding vows kind of man himself. “I would. If she wanted to.”

“But you’re not gonna ask.” Ellie nods vaguely, not quite understanding why anybody bothers to get married anymore anyway. It seems like one of those things that doesn’t make sense in this world. A relic. “So…” The only part of it that still matters is safety, and the emotion behind all of it. “She could be here with us all the time, and I’d pretend like I don’t hear you doing stuff and that’s it? Like…” Her eyes tick up to Joel’s with rivers of curiosity in them. “Like a family?”

Joel snorts, amused at that comment because beyond kissing, doing stuff hadn’t happened. “Kind of like that. If she did, she would have say over what happens here.” He cautions. “Another adult to ‘ruin your life’.” He had rolled his eyes and laughed the first time she had come out with that statement. A true measure of a teenager, even in the shithole state the world was in, Joel could ruin her life.

“She’s better at it than you,” Ellie announces immediately, tongue stuck out as far as it will go. She doesn’t want to admit that you’re the one she goes to for advice most often now. Not him, not Maria, and definitely not Tommy. She goes to you, and you always answer her honestly.

“Ruining your life?” He lifts a brow and hums. “Maybe I need to ask her for tips then.” He’s joking, but it’s nice to see that she has found a mother-like figure in you.

“She’s better at advice.” The teen clarifies, not wanting Joel to think you’ve done anything wrong. “I mean…I’m not gonna ask you about girl stuff.”

Joel snorts and shoots her a grin. “Why not? I love everything about women.”

“But you aren’t one.” The exaggerated roll of her eyes calls him an idiot and she huffs. “Whatever. You should ask your girlfriend to live with us. That’s all I was saying.”

“Yeah?” He hums and shrugs. “I’ll see what she thinks. She can sew here, she does often enough.”

“‘Kay.” She mumbles simply, as if she didn’t just suggest an enormous change to both of their lives as casually as commenting on the color of the sky. Ellie finishes her breakfast in three bites and pushes back from the table abruptly. “School,” she adds, before grabbing her supplies from the counter nearby.

Joel watches as she bolts out the door. Since it’s not a FEDRA school, Ellie has actually been enjoying going each day. Picking up his coffee, he shakes his head. It’s Chicory but it’s better than nothing. Expecting you in a few minutes, he finishes his breakfast in peace with your own plate still warm on the stove.

The soft knock at the door comes just minutes later, and you crack the door open to slip inside without letting any heat out. The typical place for your sewing is in a large canvas bag unless it's a delicate project, so you can move it between your house or Joel's without effort. All those years of making costumes by hand for plays and parties has truly paid off. "Joel?" The smell of breakfast is welcome and comforting, and you peak around the corner to find him sitting at the table. "I just passed Ellie on her way to school. Seemed like she was in a good mood."

He chuckles and stands up, ready to pour you a cup of the coffee that is still simmering in the percolator. “She should be.” He snorts. “Christmas is coming early, apparently.”

"Or very late, depending on how you view it." Now that spring is here and the winter is solidly behind you, Jackson is flourishing again. It seems to be affecting everyone, including Ellie. A soft murmur of thanks comes with accepting the cup of coffee he has made – Joel's is far better tasting than your attempts ever were – but you set it down on the table to step closer to him with a smile. "Good morning kiss?"

“Of course.” When you ask him for a kiss, or to hold you, he’s never turned you down. Nearly in disbelief that you are so affectionate despite the past years. He steps towards you slowly and bites his lip. “Can I hold onto your hips, beautiful girl?” Sometimes you want him to and other times you would rather he not, so he still asks where you want his hands.

"Yes, please." You're feeling brave today, maybe reinvigorated by the spring just like Ellie is, and you nod as you step closer to him so he can hold you close. Maybe it's the spring, or maybe it's months of Joel always calling you his beautiful girl finally starting to sink in. You never thought anyone could think of you that way ever again, but it seems so easy with him.

He hums softly, licking his lips and shuffling closer. You are the one who moves quickly when you feel like it, but he still treats you delicately. Not because he is afraid you will shatter, but because you deserve it.

His short hair is always the perfect place for your fingers, and your arms come up around his shoulders so you can play with the hairs on the back of his neck when he leans in. These morning moments are your favourite, if you're honest. The bright sunlight and birdsong make it seem like a romantic little cottage scene, and it makes you wish that you had had the courage in the colder months to suggest that he sleep over. Or that you sleep over his place. Even just to sleep side by side would be wonderful, but you try to be cognizant of not changing things too much on Ellie all at once.

His lips are much softer since he’s been kissing you. Not as dry. Tommy rags on him, making him roll his eyes, but he would never admit that he does put a little oil on them at night to keep them from chapping and cracking when it’s his turn to stand watch at the gates.

The domesticity of the whole thing is appealing in ways that harken back to the feeling of near normalcy that Joel gives you, and you’re smiling when you finally force yourself to lean back from kissing him. “Busy day? Or do I have you to myself until Ellie gets home?”

“Nahh.” He shakes his head. “Mud’s too thick to try to set more posts, so we are waiting for it to dry in the southern area of the community garden.” He tells you. “Since I had to pull watch last night, I’m off for the next day or so.”

“It wasn’t too bad, I hope?” Overnights are tough just for the sake of a sleep schedule, but you know Joel’s shift ended at dawn and it’s a fair few hours past that now. “Did you get a nap in?”

“Not yet.” He hadn’t wanted to sleep while you were over. Not when he could spend time with you. “I will when I get tired.” He promises.

“I would have waited until after lunch to come over.” You pout at him, rather viciously, but aren’t really upset. You just don’t want Joel tiring himself out for you.

“And I wouldn’t have slept then, either.” He grumbles at you and motions towards the stove. “Eaten yet? I made you a plate.”

“Thank you.” Though you couldn’t put a finger on when it became tradition to eat breakfast together, it has certainly become a mainstay. “I brought over a few things that I’m mending for Maria, so I have plenty of work to keep me busy.” Or not is the unspoken follow up. There are definitely days that you spend entirely wrapped up in Joel.

“That’s good.” Joel nods as he motions you towards the table and brings the still warm plate over with a small hiss when it burns one of his fingers. “It’s hot.”

“Careful!” Though how he can feel anything through those callouses on his hand, you just don’t know. “Don’t need you burning your fingers off over a plate of eggs.”

He rolls his eyes and sits down beside you with a groan. “Eat.” He tells you, pointing to the food. “Pretty sure you skipped dinner last night.”

“Not intentionally.” There had been a call for anyone available to come help out with chasing some escaped animals up on the pasture north of town last night and you had gone out to help without hesitation. “But thank you for looking out for me.”

“Of course I’m going to look after you.” He huffs off your thanks and sits back down with you, his own refreshed coffee in hand. “Ellie wanted me to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” That has you stopping with your fork halfway to your mouth. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah…everything’s good.” He quickly reassures you, frowning because he hadn’t meant to worry you. He doesn’t like the scared look in your eyes, like you’re about to be punished for some imaginary wrong. “All good, I think.”

“Okay.” Dropping the tension from your shoulders is automatic — you didn’t even realize you had seized up until you were relaxing again. “What’s going on?”

“Not sayin’ we’re doin’ this, or that we gotta—” Joel reassures you to start with, knowing that you might not think that it’s a question. “But Ellie was asking me about the future, me and you.”

“We haven’t really talked about it.” For the simple reason that in this world, the future can never be determined. There’s usually no point in betting on a horse if you don’t know it will even finish the race, so a lot of people — you and Joel included — have chosen to remain undefined. Other people, people like Tommy and Maria, have held onto the old relationship conventions as a comfort in an ever changing world.

“No, we haven’t.” Joel admits. “But maybe we should. She – and me too – we were wonderin’ if maybe it’s not a bit silly that we’re trackin’ back and forth between your place and ours.”

“It’s not too much trouble, is it?” The ice cold fear in your heart is instant, and even though he had said that nothing was wrong, you can’t help the feeling of doomed certainty that the inevitable end has been reached in this otherwise happy arrangement. It was bound to come, sooner or later. Or, at least, you’ve feared that it would.

“No,” he can see that you’re still worried and he offers you his hand. Silently asking permission to hold yours and he squeezes yours gently when you slip onto into his. “We were thinkin’ that maybe you could just— live with us?” He ventures softly. “I wouldn’t— you don’t have to worry about me expectin’ anything more—” he promises quickly. “Maybe we could just, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed? If you don’t want that, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Joel…” It isn’t a great commendation of strength on your part that you start to tear up immediately, but it’s an honest reaction if there ever was one. You squeeze his hand tightly in yours for the half-second it takes you to move out of your chair and to his side. “Can I hug you? Please?”

“Of course you can.” The fact that you ask him is probably due to him asking you. Or needing to make sure you won’t get in trouble on some subconscious level, but he easily stands and holds his arms open.

The crush of how hard you push into his arms to hug him exactly as tightly as you can gets a small oof out of him, but his arms come around you just as securely. “I’ve been trying to think of how to bring it up for weeks,” you admit quietly, feeling silly about that now that he’s broken the topic himself. “About… sleeping together, I mean…”

“Oh.” He’s not sure if you mean sleeping together or sleeping together, but he doesn’t ask. “You should have said something, beautiful girl.” He murmurs quietly into your neck, enjoying the way that you curl into him.

“I wasn’t sure how.” Joel is the only person you’ve been able to be completely candid with about your fears and anxieties, and if anything it has only made him more protective. But really? You don’t mind that. “But I’m feeling braver.”

“Do you like the idea?” He asks softly. “I know you have your own space and are used to it, but we can share ours. Ellie loves the idea, so no teenage pushback.”

“I had considered asking you to move in to mine,” you admit, overwhelmed tears turning to happy in an instant. “But I didn’t want to displace Ellie.”

“If you want that, we can see what she thinks.” Joel immediately offers. “But I think our place is a little bigger. And yours is closer to everything.”

“Bigger is better.” You can agree to that right away. The room you could give Ellie in your own house is too small to be comfortable. “I don’t mind being a little further away from town if I get to be with you.”

“Yeah?” Joel smiles slightly at the comment and nods. “Okay. Well, we’ll get you moved over here as soon as you want.” He knows you will bring your supplies so he nods towards the little nook off the living room. “Thinkin’ that could be your little shop, unless you need more room?”

“I think it should work.” The little reading nook off of the living room has space for a chair and a desk, and even a small closet built into the wall of the house that has shelves for your supplies. “If you don’t mind sacrificing the space, I think it might actually be perfect.”

“Was thinkin’ I could make you some organizers for your cloth and threads and such.” He tells you, leaning into the idea. “The bookshelves would be good for that.”

“You’ll spoil me if you do that.” It sounds wonderful, and you prop your chin on his chest to look up at him. “But I’ll spoil you with cooking if you let me.”

“I’ll get working on them today.” He promises with a grin. His cooking is okay, but yours is amazing.

“And I’ll make us a celebratory supper.” It’s the least you can do, really, but the smile on your face is bright and wide.

“Yeah?” He grins at the idea and nods. “Do you wanna start moving stuff over? I can get Tommy to help.”

“That would be a heck of a surprise for Ellie.” And you laugh a little at the idea, enjoying the ease of it. “Leave for school just having posed the question, and come home from school to find me moved in.”

“Up to you.” Joel chuckles. “She likes the idea of a family.” He wants you to know that, that the girl wants you here with them.

"I know she isn't technically either of ours." You shrug slightly, not wanting to specifically bring up the children that both you and Joel have lost. "But sometimes it feels like it."

“We worry enough about her. Annoy her enough.” He frowns slightly. “Sometimes family isn’t always blood, but the people you wish were blood.”

"Family can be the people that you adopt along the way. Or the people who adopt you. It works both ways." The two of you sit back down again, hands twined together at the table as you slowly work your way through the modest breakfast that Joel made you. "After this I'll go back to my house and pack some things up while you go see if Tommy is able to help?"

“Sounds good.” He clears his throat and bites his lip. “I don’t expect you to do any more than we’ve established you’re good with.” He reminds you quietly. “I’m gonna knock before coming into the bedroom. In case you’re, uh, changing or something.”

"I can change in the bathroom," you assure him, putting down your fork to concentrate on the far more important conversation at hand. "Or...maybe it's time we crossed that bridge. Maybe not all the way to the other side, but...we could put off a little of the moving to have...private time? Before Ellie comes home from school?" Reminding yourself that you have been feeling braver lately is the key. Joel has proven endlessly that you are safe with him, and never once given you reason to doubt it.

“Is that what you want?” Joel asks seriously. He doesn’t want you to think you have to push yourself into something you aren’t ready for because of where you will sleep at night.

"I want it, and I want to be ready for that step." Wanting is the key. Or at least you hope it is. "And I hope I know you well enough to think that you won't be upset if we reach a point that I'm not comfortable with."

“You just say the word and I’ll stop, beautiful girl.” Joel can easily promise you that. “If that’s what you’re wanting, then I guess you better finish your breakfast.”

As nerve wracking as taking that next step is, you do want to. Letting fear rule your life helps no one, and reclaiming your own strength through large and small steps is something that Joel has really helped you with. Nothing says that today has to be the day that you throw off every worry, but as you finish your breakfast you do feel absolutely certain that the decision to put one proverbial foot in front of the other and move toward intimacy with the man you’ve genuinely fallen in love with.

He lets you think about it quietly, taking his own plate and coffee cup over to the sink to start on the dishes. Knowing that despite what you might say, you could change your mind before you even finish your meal. That's okay with him. He's never pushed you, even when he's straining under his jeans and has to take himself in hand when he gets home after leaving you. He would still never push, not with something like this.

He doesn’t let you do your own dishes when you’re done eating, but he never does. Joel has deeply ingrained caretaking tendencies even if he doesn’t like to admit it. “We should…go upstairs,” you murmur, leaning against the kitchen counter beside him. “It’s more comfortable than the couch.”

Joel watches you for a moment and then nodes carefully. “We can. Do you— uh, want me to give you a minute?” He asks, unsure of what you want and how far you want this to go. “Let you…get ready?”

“I’d rather have you next to me.” His presence is, after all, what makes you feel safest. For this next step you’ll need that more than ever.

“Okay.” Reaching out, he offers you his hand with a reassuring nod. “You are in charge here.” He reminds you.

“I don’t really have any expectations for this except that we’ll lay in bed together and have some privacy.” But you can now fully admit that you hope to have the courage for more. “Let’s just…start there and see what happens?”

“That sounds good to me.” He guides you towards the stairs and lets go of your hand so he can let you go up in front of him. “We’ll take it nice and slow.”

The last time you were this nervous about being in a bad with a boyfriend was probably losing your virginity in high school, but there is a hell of a lot more emotional weight involved this morning than there was then. Joel means more to you than any of the others ever did, and that just makes you want this to go well even more. At the top of the stairs he’s beside you again and you slip your hand into his.

The walk to the bedroom doesn’t take long, the door open and his bed still rumpled. He’s never been a make the bed kind of guy and he bites his lip a little sheepishly. “Didn’t think you’d be up here.” He admits with a rueful grin. “Would have at least tossed the comforter over everything.”

“I like it better knowing the real you.” Your hand in his slips around his waist to keep him close.

Joel hums and walks towards it and then pauses a few feet from it. “Do you want to lay down with me, beautiful girl?”

“I feel like I should at least take my sweater off first.” The t-shirt you have on underneath it is typically worn but comfortable, and you find that today stripping off your warm sweater feels like taking off a lot more clothes than it really is.

Joel takes off his boots, but he leaves everything else on. It’s just a t-shirt and a flannel with his jeans. “Make sure you’re comfortable. What side of the bed do you like?” He’s a middle of the bed sleeper, so wherever you want is fine with him. He’ll adjust.

“The left, usually.” Being boxed in doesn’t feel particularly good to you, for obvious reasons. That doesn’t matter right now though, and you take off your own boots to leave to the side with Joel’s, socks stuffed neatly inside. “Is that okay?”

“Perfect.” He nods and motions to the bed. “Test it out. See if you like yours better.” If you do, he will drag that damn thing down here.

You won’t, you know that, but getting into Joel’s bed with him is a surprisingly emotional moment. Without any extra preamble — only because you’re restraining yourself from babbling out of nerves — you slide under the rumpled covers and inhale a breath of the scent that is purely his. It’s infinitely relaxing, and you close your eyes for a second to revel in how right it feels. Fear has made you think it might be awkward, but no. You’re supposed to be next to Joel. This is where you belong.

Joel is slightly tense beside you. Not wanting to jostle you too much, but he clears his throat. “I’m going to put my arm behind your head. Is that okay?”

“Let’s…” looking between you, you know that Joel asks about every single action to be courteous. To be cautious, even. And while you don’t mind being delicate to him, this might be a chance to start moving past some of that hesitance. For you, too. “Let’s just say we’re going to get comfortable?” You suggest. “Asking about every single movement…it’s going to make this harder than it needs to be. So…it’s okay with me that you touch wherever you need to while we figure this out. This…how to be comfortable together.”

He huffs out a small laugh at himself and nods. “If you don’t like something, you tell me, you got me?” He tells you, raising his brows seriously. “This bed, it’s gonna be your refuge, not your prison.”

“Okay.” Nodding, you slide closer to him under the blanket and move your arm so he can slide his under your pillow if he wants to. “I’m sorry if this is awkward…”

“You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry about.” Joel chides softly, used to hearing that when you want to pull back. “We’re just getting comfortable, that’s all.” His hand settles on your arm and he strokes his fingers over your skin lightly. “We got all the time in the world.”

Shifting even closer, you tuck yourself into his side and sigh at the bulk of him. It really is something primal in the way it relaxes you, having that broad frame of his nearby but never threatening. Sliding your arm around his waist is easy like this, and you press yourself into him comfortably. “Kinda wish I’d gotten brave enough for this ages ago,” you admit quietly.

“It’s okay, beautiful girl.” He promises, slowly sliding his hand up and down your back as you start to slowly cover half his body with your own. He pauses for just a moment before his hand ventures very sedately past the small of your back and over the swell of your butt. Giving you time to tell him no if you wanted.

Instead of hesitating it actually makes you grin, the slow and careful way that he reaches forward. Feeling admittedly cheeky, you shift your hips to wiggle your ass under his tentative fingers and end up smiling again. "It's okay, handsome," you assure him, giving him the permission that he's silently seeking. "Go ahead."

Joel groans and cups your ass firmly. “You have a great ass.” He growls softly. “Thought so from the beginning.”

"The beginning, huh?" It's something of a relief to find out that Joel was just as interested in you as you were in him early on. The first time he'd admitted it, you had literally sighed. There was a breath then, like there is now, that you didn't realize you had been holding. "I'm glad you like it."

He smirks slightly and moves to caress your ass like he had your back. “When you’re feelin’ up to it, my lips are lonely.” He teases, puckering them slightly.

It's small, and it's teasing, but it lifts so much of the tension in the room that you actually laugh and move in a little more with eagerness. If there's one undeniable truth about Joel Miller it's that he's a fantastic kisser, and you're not one to give that up when it's being offered. Especially not right now. Not when your time alone with him is both assured and indulgent.

Your lips aren’t hesitant this time. They are sure and still curved into a smile when you press them to his. Making his own laugh into your mouth that much sweeter. He wanted this to light, there’s so much heaviness in your lives, this should be as light as it can. Especially with your past. Taking the moment for the simplicity that it is.

There's something different about the taste of him this morning, like kissing Joel is somehow sweeter for the pure and simple reason that you're in bed together and nothing else. Your hand creeps up his arm and around his shoulder so your fingers can find their way into his hair, and the bubbly, joyous feeling in your chest bubbles over when you summon the courage to be the one to run your tongue along his lower lip in an open mouthed kiss. It's probably bolder than you've ever done before but the rightness of this feeling just can't be overstated.

Humming in surprise, Joel settles back slightly and lets you take charge of your kiss. Waiting to see if you would slide your tongue into his mouth or if you will leave it at just opened mouth to breath into each other. His hand squeezes your ass gently, encouraging you to do whatever you want and immediately goes back to caressing like it had before.

His hand feels huge like this, but not in an overwhelming way. In a way that makes you feel precious and...unexpectedly...a little worshipped. Up here in this bedroom nothing can hurt you, and that is another step forward in this sort of emboldening feeling that is brewing inside you. It's that burst of boldness that has you pushing into his side just a little bit more, tongue sliding into his mouth to relearn that part of him that you have explored only a handful of times before.

Joel grunts, his cock twitching and starting to harden in his pants, but he ignores it. Focusing on you as he continues to kiss you and caress you. Enjoying how you are unfurling for him.

The heat that rolls off of him in waves is intoxicating, making your head swim like it does whenever the two of you let the urge take over. It isn’t often, but it’s always good, and this morning feels even better.

The kisses are slow, languid. Pretending that time doesn't exist and every breath shared between you is suspended. He feels the way you are slowly starting to grinding on him, his thigh between yours.

Shallow, short, panting breaths are all the two of you can manage. Some gulps of air and soft, muffled moans. The floods your mind and your instincts and for the first time in over a year pleasure is what overtakes every thought, not fear.

He watches you, your eyes closed and your finger tight in his hair. Not because you are afraid, but because you are wanting more. He groans into your mouth and his hands settle on your hips, encouraging you to move if you want to with a small nudge.

It's like your mind has gone blank of everything except him, and the bliss of it is that you finally can let it go blank. The only thing you even need to know about in the world is Joel, and he is right here beside you. Half underneath you, technically. He not only wants you here with him but is actively devouring you at the same rate you are devouring him, and the freedom is nearly electric. Rocking hips have a mind of their own, and it really does take longer than you're proud of to realize that you're evening doing it. Catching yourself, you barely manage to pull back and force yourself to look Joel in the eyes through hazy vision. "Is...I didn't ask...if it's okay?"

“It’s always okay, beautiful girl.” Joel’s voice is rough, lust filled. “Whatever you want, you just do it to me.”

“I—I don’t really know what I want,” you admit, trying to catch your breathe and keep your entire body from setting on fire in his arms, but not succeeding very well. “Except…more.”

“You could let me— unbutton you jeans?” He asks as he nudges his nose against your pulse. “Use my fingers to make you feel good?”

It would be a lie to claim you hadn’t imagined what it would feel like. That you hadn’t actually dreamt about how pleasurable time with Joel would play out. While this isn’t quite like any of the scenarios you had dreamt up, it is real and it is happening right now, and you nod fiercely before pushing in again to kiss him with every ounce of courage built up inside you.

He knows this is a big step for you and he doesn’t rush it. Kissing you back while he slowly pulls his hand around your back to the front of your jeans. Pausing for a second to wait for any protest before he flicks the button open and leisurely pulls down your zipper.

He gets no protests at all, but a deep sigh bordering a moan that comes out of you with that deceptively small act of opening your pants. Your free hand slides just under the hem of his shirt, hot skin burning your fingers at first contact but only in the very best way.

“Tell me if you don’t like something,” he reminds you softly when his fingers first dip below the threadbare elastic band of your panties. “Only want you to feel good.”

Any flash of discomfort, even a small one, is too much and you lean back to find Joel’s dark eyes watching you. “Let me just take them off?” You ask quietly, not wanting to verbalize the fact that the fight pull of fabric against your skin hits a memory you don’t want to relive. As exposing as it is, naked is better.

“Whatever you want.” His hand eases out of your panties and he lays back, showing you that he’s not going to keep on.

“I want you.” The clarification is important, even as you slip off your jeans and underwear, letting them fall off the side of the bed in irrelevance. Shirt and bra are next, and even the act of shedding your own clothing — making your own choice to do this — frees another layer of fear from your shoulders. “I don’t want fear to be in the way of I can help it.”

“Do you want me to strip down?” Joel asks, wondering if you won’t like him being clothed and you naked. “How do you want me, beautiful girl?”

“How ever you’re comfortable.” Just because you stripped down does not mean that he has to. The state of your relation as always been respect and not reciprocity.

He decides that he wants to strip down too. He knows he’s not going to do anything that will make him cum, but if you’re going to live here, you should be comfortable with him.

It definitely more than you ever expected to happen today, but as Joel sheds his clothes beside you, there’s also a sense of peace in it. Reclaiming intimacy — not even sex, just intimacy and closeness — is like relieving an enormous burden that you aren’t ever sure could be lifted.

When he reaches the tired, worn out boxer briefs he is wearing, the outline of his hard cock clearly showing, he hesitates. “Would you like me to leave these on?”

A fair question, and though you hesitate for a moment, you decide firmly on, “No.” This decision to move forward together is too important to you, and it’s not as if you aren’t attracted to him. You have eyes, after all. “If you’re okay with it, I…I want to see you. Maybe…touch you?”

He groans quietly, nodding as he hooks his fingers into the band. “You can touch me wherever you want.” He promises.

He has never protested once about waiting for you to be ready. Never pressed and never pushed. Now you only hope that you won’t disappoint him when you’re actually ready to take the next step. “You can touch me, too.”

“My daddy was never good for much.” Joel starts as he slides his hands down, bringing the boxers with him. Grunting as he bends over to steps out of them. “But he taught me something that’s stuck with me.” Standing up, he looks you in your eyes. “It was about holdin’ a gun, but I guess it’s the same with holdin’ a woman.” He tells you. “Hold her like you love her. Slow and gentle, steady. That’s what I aim to do with you.”

“I—I do love you.” He wasn’t trying to get you to say it, or even saying it himself, but sitting up in his bed with a blanket around you instead of clothes…if you can’t say it now, then when can you? “You don’t have to…to say it back or anything. I just—it felt like the right time to say.”

You are sitting down, but he steps closer to you and kneels down, not wanting to tower over you to intimidate. “Baby, you should know that I— I love you.” He murmurs quietly, reaching for your hand. “Everything about you.”

"Get back in bed, Joel." Even with one of his big hands holding on to both of yours, you tug at him slightly to urge him to join you. "I...I really want to be close to you right now."

“Okay.” He groans again as he gets to his feet. “Fuckin’ knees.” He complains quietly. “Too fuckin’ old.”

“No more grand romantic gestures that involve kneeling,” you tease, pulling back the blanket so he can climb in beside you.

“Don’t worry about that.” He chuckles as he slides into the bed. “Probably the cold, but it’s been actin’ up.”

“Still.” Your arms are open to him this time, reminding yourself that there’s no need to hide. “I like you in one piece.”

This time, he is the one that is curling up to you, making sure he doesn’t seem to hover over you just in case. His cock is against your hip and he leans in to kiss you again. “You have me.”

To have it put for you so easily — that he’s yours are much as you are his — makes so much difference. It’s freeing instead of entrapping. Love rather than possession. It makes you melt into his kiss, hands grasping for him rather than being tentative about their touch. Not exactly greedy, but definitely no longer afraid.

It’s almost too easy, the way you eagerly fall into his kiss again. Your determination shining through and his hand lands on your hip again, warm and seeking. “Spread your legs, beautiful girl.” He murmurs against your lips.

It isn’t an order, but an urging that you happily agree to. Laying back on his pillows and letting him come that much closer to you, urging him to lean over your body. It isn’t looming, like he’s afraid it could be. Instead it feels like protection.

He starts at your shoulder, hands deciding they want to touch every inch of skin you will allow him. Lips kissing your chin, your jaw, just behind your ear. “So beautiful for me.” He rasps out. “So soft.”

Joel is full of endless praises, and you’ve caught yourself sometimes wondering if that’s something he does just for you or if it’s an old habit of his that goes back to the time before. It doesn’t truly make a difference, but you’ve wondered. The feeling of his hands everywhere on you could get overwhelming — or you fear that it could — but it’s just Joel. It’s the man who only makes you feel safe and protected and appreciated, and you sink down into the mattress with a sigh when his hand moves down from your shoulder. “Only for you,” you gasp out, his lips pressing the sensitive spot on your next just below your ear.

When his hand cups your breast, he doesn’t squeeze. It’s more of a massage, a gentle caress and he rubs your nipple with his thumb. “That’s my good girl.” He hums. There’s been plenty of times that you’ve gone over phrases or nicknames that might trigger you, so he’s confident that you won’t react negatively.

“Joel.” Things that seemed silly years ago aren’t so silly to you now, and the cooing softness of Joel’s usually deep, rough voice is so soothing as his work-calloused hands slide over your skin. Your far hand is tangled in the blanket as he leans over you, but the other anchors you to him instead. It explores the parts of his body you haven’t touched before — trim waist and strong thighs instead of the soft stomach and broad shoulders that you know so well. “Joel. Joel.” His name is a chant on your lips, growing shallower and lighter each time.

“That’s it.” He encourages, continuing to play with your breast until he feels your thighs press together and shift, wanting friction. “Gonna take care of you.”

It’s a promise, one you want to drown yourself in as much as you want to drown in kissing him. Deciding that you can only really do one of those things, you surge upward to press an open mouthed kiss to his lips, inviting him to devour you, too.

His hand has to nudge your thighs open again after his palm skims over your belly. Caressing it softly and he would say something, but reminding you of your past wouldn’t be right for this moment. Instead, his fingers comb through the soft curls covering you, gently working through them to slick skin underneath.

The deep sigh that emanates from you is almost revolutionary, and for the first time in longer than you care to remember, your eyes slip shut in pleasure to focus solely on the feeling of Joel’s hands on your body. Forgetting where you end and he begins was a seemingly impossible task not so long ago, but now you moan softly and shift your legs open for him even wider like a flower opening up for the sun.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good for me.” He moans, cock twitching at your surrender to the pleasure and he loves that you aren’t tensing up. His fingers slide through your folds, gathering the wetness and he starts a slow figure eight around your sex. Curling your entrance and coming back up to slide around your clit through your lips. “Feel good, beautiful girl?”

“So good.” It’s unbelievable just how good but this is part of Joel’s magic. He can just make everything else fade away. Your hips tilt up and you sigh again, sinking further into the mattress. “More, honey? Please?”

“You want my fingers inside you, beautiful girl?” He asks as he kisses down your throat. His mouth waters at the thought of suckling at your tits and he looks up at you to make sure you’re still on the same page. ‘More’ could mean just more of his rubbing your clit.

“Yes. God, please.” Nodding almost frantically, the hand that you had had tangled in his blanket comes up to grasp his shoulder and hold him close so you can kiss him endlessly.

He wants to chuckle at how desperate you sound but he just hums softly. Aware that you are actually starting to enjoy yourself. His fingers make another trip around your clit and this time, he doesn’t circle your entrance, just slowly starts to press, feeling you start to yield.

The soft moan he gets from you almost immediately makes him shiver, but you’re lost to it. Every sensation in your body has narrowed down to Joel’s touch and pushed every other thought out of your mind. Maybe he is that good with his hands or maybe it’s just how much you love him, or maybe it’s both. No matter what it is, it’s floating away with you on a cloud.

Your body doesn’t resist, you aren’t pushing him away. If anything, your hips are rolling down to meet his touch. He groans your name and nuzzles your breast with his cheek, his nose, before he finally wraps his lips around the stiff peak.

That extra burst of sensation makes you moan out loud, back arching off the bed and fingers digging into Joel’s arm to keep him from reeling back or second guessing himself. Close Is where you want him and you’re going to keep him there.

He hisses in pleasure against your breast, drunk on the sight of your eyes closed and lips parted so perfectly as you moan again. He doesn’t stop, just slowly curling his fingers up inside you to search for that pleasure spot.

Each time you moan for him is like a revelation all your own. Your body is doing all of its own talking now, rolling like waves in the ocean and pulled toward Joel’s own body like a magnet. The pull between you is so strong that when he finds your g-spot you keen and moan out his name loud enough that anyone in the house could have easily heard, but you’re too wrapped up in him to care or notice.

“That’s it, beautiful girl? That’s your spot?” He pulls off your breast long enough to crow about finding that place before he is suckling again, his fingers concentrating on that small spot just to hear you keen again.

“I—fuck—yes!” If he had asked if you even have a spot you would have said no, but he’s found it with seemingly no effort whatsoever. Like his intuitive ability to read your body language for emotions, he can read it for your pleasure as well. There’s no doubt in your mind that he could probably pluck you like an instrument of he wanted to but right now all he wants is to hear your pleasure so you do not hold back. The shock of being so vocal is one thing, but for Joel? For Joel you would repeat your yeses and moans and chants of his name for the whole world to hear.

He listens to you, feels you. Wanting to make sure that no old ghosts come between you and your goal. He moans, cock twitching and throbbing against your thigh as he continues to focus on you, ignoring his body’s demands for your own.

It might surprise him even more than it does you, when you reach for him. Your other hand had settled on his hip and was surely squeezing imprints into his flesh, but pleasure has so much taken over your mind that the slide of your hand from his hip to wrapping your fingers experimentally around the thickness of his cock makes both of you gasp.

His eyes close and he can’t help the experimental rock of his hips before he pulls himself back. Reminding himself that he needs to focus on his task.

“It’s okay.” Murmured just as soon as you turn your head, you open your eyes and place lingering kisses on Joel’s jaw. “I want to. Please?”

“Whatever you want.” Joel promises you, his dark eyes on you and alight with passion. “Just let me know what you want.”

“I want to make you feel good, too.” It is the shared aspect of the experience that makes all the difference. That one of you isn’t taking everything from the other, but that you’re sharing the moment together. That’s what makes it an act of passion and love rather than just a sexual encounter. And for you? That makes all the difference.

“You are, beautiful girl.” He promises, his fingers slick and making the most beautiful sounds as they move in and out of you.

As the pair of you devolve back into moans and sighs of each other’s names, the coil of pleasure that tightens in your belly is unmistakable. The experimental strokes of your hand wrapped around his length become surer, pace quickening, your whole body rocketing toward your own end and wanting to take him with you despite knowing that it probably isn’t going to happen that fast. It’s the haze of actual, beautiful, loving pleasure that’s settled over you like a blanket, and it’s what you want more than anything.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” Joel is moaning his encouragement and huffing against your breast. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you’re on the edge. You gonna cum for me?”

It’s possible you’ve entirely forgotten how to speak with how close you are, and your eyes slip closed again when you nod almost frantically. The moan from your lips is half his name and half incoherent begging, asking for the release that is so literally right at his fingertips. That only he can give you and that you hope past hoping that you can give to him too with each stroke of your fist.

He smirks, “yeah, you are.” He coos, his voice heavy with lust. “You’re gonna cum all in my hand for me.” He can feel the way your body is tensing under him, ready for the perfect moment to break apart in bliss. “My beautiful girl’s gonna cum.”

It is as much permission as you could look for, and your body seems to know it. The bow and bend in your back sharpen as the sound is strangled from your throat, cutting off his name with a desperate cry as you fall apart for his hand.

There’s something breathtaking about the way you cry out. Body quaking and trembling, not in fear, but in rapture.

The world stands still for those few moments. There is nothing at all except bliss, and the bulk of Joel's broad body above you, and the way he twitches in your hand seeming to run in perfect sync with the spasms of your own body as you come down from the clouds.

Joel doesn’t rush you, drawing it out with the slower curl of his fingers than before, kissing up your body before capturing your moans for him greedily with his mouth. Wanting to keep them for himself as he enjoys your orgasm with you.

“Joel.” It’s more of a whisper than a cry this time, when you finally open your eyes to look at him. “Tell me what you want?”

“Touch me.” He begs. “However you want. I want you to just touch me.”

Your hand had fallen away from him to make sure you didn’t squeeze too hard and accidentally hurt him at the peak or your own orgasm. Now you touch your fingers between your thighs to wet them with your own slick and wrap your hand around his cock again, feeling it twitch with the pressure and friction. Every stroke builds on the last, wanting him to feel every bit as good as you do right now.

Your touch, this time so much more sure of itself, makes his eyes fall close and his body rolls onto his back. Your own follows him so you are draped over him like a perfectly warm blanket. “Fuck, fuck, you are so— so fucking perfect.” He moans quietly. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

Praise is absolutely not lost on you, and every murmur and moan makes you work that much harder. Learning what works for him and what doesn’t isn’t difficult when Joel is so vocal, and before too long his hips are stuttering as he tries to chase the rhythm of your hand.

A shudder runs through his body, unsure if he would ever have you touch him like this. Panting as he curls his toes and his stomach tightens. “Gonna cum.” He warns you roughly.

“Show me.” You keep the pace of your movements and the same pressure with your hand and watch every movement in his body. “Let me see you, honey.”

He grunts, nodding seriously and his eyes flutter open again to focus on you. “Love you.” He knows you adoring hearing the words and he’s worked on being more vocal with you. It hadn’t helped him with Tess, he regretted not vocalizing his feelings before she died and he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“I love you too, Joel.” And what a hell of a morning for it to be said for the first few times. You’ll never forget a single thing about any of it. Especially not the blissful relaxation on his face just half a second after every muscle in his body tenses, that moment of explosive pleasure washing over him in an enormous wave.

In the last year, orgasms had been necessary. Functional. Something to be dealt with quickly when the need came over him. Often hurried and moved on from, but from the way you keep stroking his cock and cooing after he starts to cum, he knows you have every intention of drawing this out for him. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.”

The splatter over his stomach and down your hand is a beautiful sight, one that you take in greedily before laying back beside him in bed. “I love you,” you murmur again, letting yourself sigh and bask in the moment.

Joel pants, nodding as he tries to catch his breath. “Hope to hell you do.” He chuckles. “Holy shit.”

“I do.” And it rests gently in your chest like a bird happily resting from its flight. “So much.”

He reaches for you, wrapping his arm around your back and he starts to stroke it idly. “How was that, beautiful girl? Was it worth the risk?” He knows it’s cost you to expose yourself again, mentally and physically. So he doesn’t want you to regret it.

“I’ve never been safer than I am with you.” Of that, you are completely certain. And you’ve never been more certain than you are in this moment.

______

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