#[v: teachers aide]

[irukasenseii]

[Mobile friendly verse post] Feel free to specify for a specific verse if wanted when doing starters or sending in asks!

Canon verses: [v: prankster][v: teachers aide][v: pt 1][v: time skip][v: pt 2][v: blank space][next gen] These verses start from after the kyuubi attack when Iruka was still terrorizing people with pranks as a child, straight up to his promotion as vice-principal. They follow canon as closely as possible/are set during different periods of the show/manga. Next gen covers the boruto-esque era, but is inclusive for all the next generation oc babies (not just the canon ones). He's no longer a teacher and acts as headmaster.

Non-canon verses [v: papa-ruka] [Affiliated w/ @silverfaxg] Iruka takes in Kadia and cares for her as if she was his own, stepping in as an uncle/father figure when she needs it and providing a place for her to stay when she doesn't want to be home. He hopes to nurture her love for teaching and the path she wants to take as a medic-nin.

[v: traitors aide] // [v: forevermore] [Affiliated w/@thecopynin-kakashi] After his life is saved by Kakashi and he learns the reasons why the other went rogue, Iruka resolved to help him and stubbornly refused to take no as an answer until Kakashi agreed to let him help. He chose to secretly aide Kakashi in his endeavor until Kakashi could return to the village. Their partnership turned into a secret relationship and Iruka is now engaged to Kakashi; who is now the sixth hokage

[ladyimaginarium]

[pascalpvnk]

take it from me

pairing: bilingual!joel miller x f!afab!reader

summary: joel is a simple man who simply finds pleasure in pleasing you.

warnings: moodboard used for aesthetic purposes - does not represent the reader description, 18+ MDNI, no timeline, no specified ages, no mention of sarah or ellie, LATINO JOEL (most translations within the text except for some reused pet names/common phrases). This is porn with minimal plot (but unrelated plot I canon—his favorite artist is Linda Ronstadt and I stand by it.), Joel maneuvers reader, manhandling essentially, no other descriptions of reader other than nipple piercings, body worship(?), Joel’s filthy fucking mouth, mention of thigh riding, oral (both receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, mentions of intense emotions, aftercare.

word count: 3.3k

HOW TO SUPPORT PALESTINE // IMPORTANT FOR TLOU READERS & WRITERS

a/n: fun fact, I’m a virgin, so if it seems far fetched it’s probably because it is. anyways, a special shoutout to ramon nomar for being the muse for this piece, another to @mrsswilliams for beta-ing and fueling my horny antics, thank you to my spanish teachers for guiding me to this moment (probably not your intention but I digress), and to you for taking the time to be here and hopefully enjoying! happy reading xx (banners & dividers by @saradika-graphics)

Addicting is the only word Joel Miller can muster up to describe you as his mind clouds with lust each night he’s alone, bucking into his own fist and spilling his sins after he’d met you. Of course you’re beautiful and charming above all things, but he can’t help the way his cock stirs after simply a phone call from you describing your day. How you miss him and want to meet up again soon.

Joel isn’t the brightest man, which he is very self aware of. But what he craves to learn about you, what your favorite flower is, favorite ice cream, your desires, outranks any level of intelligence a man could hold. He wants to please you, not for a superficial reason to use against you down the line. He enjoys your smile and the way your eyes crinkle, your dimple making an appearance on occasion, and it makes him feel good. The little things shine a light in his chest, ever the people pleaser.

However, he finds a red, hot desire to rouse you, make you squirm under his tender touch. To watch every fiber of control and tension dissipate from your being.

But he’s cautious.

He’s treading on thin ice within himself. He wants to give and give and give, but he’d never forgive himself if he overwhelmed and alarmed you. Your wit keeps him on his toes, tempting and trying his willpower to take things at a palatable pace.

But he’s just a man at his simplest form, a glutton for pleasure wanting to carve himself a home within you and give everything he has to please you. 

You found yourself perched upon his lap, a forgotten movie droning in the background as hands and lips explore new territory. Joel firmly guided your hips, firstly against his own, then he aided you across his denim clad thigh after you wriggled your pants to the floor. 

Choruses of Spanish praises, filth, ‘mamita, use me’, and phrases alike rolled off his tongue effortlessly as he found pleasure within your own. Consuming every moan, gasp, and ‘don’t stop’ you were so eager to give.

He struggled to deny your beautiful pleas to get him off as he had for you. You knew he wanted you to, there was no doubt in your mind considering the prominent bulge straining and begging you to. He reassured you, or rather made excuses for himself to ease the guilt he felt at your subtle disappointment.

I’m not coming in my jeans in front of the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.

You said you had work in the morning, anyhow. We outta get’cha home, preciosa.

Joel kissed you softly as he pulled up your pants, grabbed his keys, opened his truck door for you, waited at red lights, and finally as he dropped you off at your apartment building, sealing the night with melted wax, branding himself on your heart until you meet next.

Made it home okay, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.

And he does.

His head is already spinning at the thought of going out with you again. He’s showered, trimmed, even ironed his flannel before making sure it’s buttoned and tucked properly. Well rested is not one of the qualities he’s adorning—no thanks to you running his imagination rampant—but the adrenaline he feels, and the coffee he drank at noon, make up for his lack of preparedness.

At the end of the day, those things don’t even matter. Joel Miller makes it as far as his front door when you ring, bringing you inside with the intention of grabbing his own keys. His hands find you instead, your face in a gentle caress as he compliments your attire, your appearance as a whole, and your waist as he kisses you with increasing fervor. You don’t stop him, and he doesn’t stop himself.

“Ay dios. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you all day,” he mumbles against your neck, walking you backwards to his bedroom. His shirt wrinkles under your tight grip, suffocating him until you pop each button open one by one. You leave him in his black undershirt, half untucked in his dark washed jeans.

The back of your knees find his mattress before you even realize, forcing you to sit parallel with his waist. He takes his time, always calculated with his hands on every sweet spot he can reach. Joel cups your jaw, admiring your blown out pupils and the raw lust overtaking your features.

“Wanna take good care of ya, now,” he soothes. “Just say the word and I’ll stop, you know I’ll stop for ya, promise.”

It’s half of a promise to you, half of him asking you to promise to tell him if it becomes too much. You nod, reaching for him once again.

“No, chiquita,” he holds your hand to his chest. “¿Me prometes? You promise me?”

“I promise,” you say clearly and wholeheartedly. “On my life.”

With your renewed consent, he folds himself over to kiss you deeply. His tongue dances with yours, similarly to a few nights prior but with increased desperation. Fingertips graze up your sides, nerves twitching under his subtle touch, only unlatching your lips to lift your top over your head. His eyes fixate on the pebbled flesh and metal protruding your bra, making quick work of the clasp before removing it.

“I knew you had something hiding underneath this,” he muses, toying with the fabric of your bra between his first two fingers. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any prettier, hm?”

Joel skims his thumbs on the underside of both of your breasts, attaching his mouth to your collarbone. He suckles your delicate skin, committing the taste of your sweet musk and desire to his memory. He softly licks over one of your nipples, taking in how your head tips back with a sigh. He brings it into his mouth, nipping and assuaging the pierced bud until you manage to free his shirt out of his waistline.

“Paciencia, amor. Patience, sweetheart, please,” he pacifies as he guides your hand out of reach from his belt. “Just wanna savor you. Can I?”

You nod and opt to tangle your fingers in his curls. Approval seeps through his smirk as he continues his ministrations for as long as he pleases, feeling accomplished each time your hips chase his.

Joel stands up straight, running his calloused hands over one of your clothed legs, meticulously pulling each shoe and sock off and tossing them to the side to find later. 

“Do I need a condom, baby?” He mutters against your knee, toying with the hemline of your pants.

You tell him no and quickly explain you’re clean and protected. Something in him visibly switches, desire becoming carnal. He clings tight to his sense of control, desperately willing himself to give himself to you, not give into himself.

Joel drags both layers of bottoms down your legs, watching you challenge him by keeping them clamped together. He exhales heavily through his nose, your limbs relaxing slightly, but just enough for him to retake control.

“Christ, looks like I was wrong again,” he sighs, smoothing his flattened palms over your open thighs. You can get prettier. “Oh she’s pretty, mamita. All this for me?”

A gasp falls between your lips as you’re tugged closer to the edge of the mattress. Your head spins, the only thought crossing it is Joel. His hands. His words. His filthy mouth and how it’s mere centimeters from where you want him to be. Need him to be.

“Joel,” you whine, feeling the scratch of his blunt facial hair on your inner thighs. His lips tease the sensitive skin around your pussy.

“What?” He coos, fingernails biting your flesh. “Dime, baby. Tell me what you want.”

It feels pathetic, you’re completely at his mercy, stripped down on his bed while he remains fully clothed over you. He has you in the palm of his hand, putty waiting to be molded and shaped however he pleases. Bliss has already warped your features, the anticipation of what’s to come already numbing your brain.

“I want you,” you cry simply.

“You have me, don’t ya? I’m gonna need you to be more specific.”

Frustration bubbles in your belly. You’re truly not annoyed, but the tension might snap you in half before he gets the chance to.

“Want you to touch me,” you plead. “Want you to make me come, please.”

Joel hums with content, thumbs pulling your cunt open from the outer lips. A slick, sticky mess you are, hardly touched and begging to come. Arousal seeps from you, finding its way to your tight hole. You watch Joel wet his lips, the self restraint slowly dwindling from his gaze. 

“Show me,” he huffs. “Be good and fuck your hand f’me. Wanna see how you like it.”

The sound of his metal belt buckle clanking against itself is enough for your hand to fly below your hips. Relief floods your nervous system the moment you circle your clit, hips lifting and chasing the friction. Sighs leave your parted lips, eyelids falling shut with pleasure.

“Ah ah,” he corrects. “Eyes on me, beba. Sigue jugando con esa flor bonita. Mírame.” Keep playing with that pretty flower. Look at me.

You comply with his request, half lidded but maintaining eye contact nonetheless. Your fingers toy with your cunt lazily, eyes settling between his burning gaze and his taut boxers. His length strains beneath the thin fabric and his hand twitches at his side.

“I love watching you, mami,” Joel purrs. “Wish y’could see how perfect you look right now…perfectly wrecked just for me.”

His words egg you on, pace quickening on your throbbing clit. Moans spill from you as you watch Joel squeeze at his seemingly uncomfortable erection for his own relief. His other palm keeps your legs spread for him, kneading desperately at your thighs as you work yourself towards the edge.

“¿Quieres que te ayude, mamita?” Do you want me to help you?

Joel settles on his knees, both palms splayed against your skin to keep you pinned down. He licks a broad stripe from your asshole to your clit, sucking harshly on your labia before diving into your weeping cunt, all while audibly sighing with delight at your taste. Your hand instinctively rushes to grip his curls.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he grumbles while putting your hand back where he says it belongs. “Keep playing with yourself. Make this pretty pussy cry all over my face, cosa dulce.” Sweet thing. 

Your digits pulse against the nerve bundle, shocked by the sensation of his tongue swirling inside of you. It’s absolutely obscene. He slurps up everything you have to give, edging you until your legs clamp over his ears. Joel sings into your cunt, a delicious melody that sends you into a frenzy. Your walls flutter around him as he guides you through your orgasm, nose nudging your hand out of the way to make more room for himself.

Your gaze drops from the ceiling to his blissful face, thick eyelashes brushing his flushed cheeks as he savors you. It all begins to feel like too much as you grip onto his shirt. You pull the cloth towards you and he gets the hint, dragging his mouth away from your pussy and removing his top.

“So desperate to come, mamita, already finished with me?” He cants, smoothing a thumb over your kneecap.

“No- just need a breath,” you pant. You take in his features, broad shoulders with a strong chest, thick arms. His hair alone has you running laps, the sparseness of it littered on his torso and below his belly button, his curls tousled already from your hands, and his beard—fuck his beard—is absolutely soaked with your arousal. He makes no attempt to wipe it clean before kissing you. The taste of your cunt dances on your tongue as he licks into your mouth.

“Joel,” you sigh, his lips leaving yours and trailing down your neck. “I wanna suck your cock, please.”

“You wanna suck it?” He smirks, slipping his hand beneath his boxers before shoving them off of his thighs. His fingers slip through your folds briefly before he deposits your cum onto the tip of his dick. Mischief plays on his expression as he opens your legs once more.

Joel slowly stuffs his cock into you, not your mouth but your pussy. A gasp escapes you, morphing itself into a moan. Your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his ass to pull him in deeper.

“Thought you wanted to suck it,” he grunts with a devilish grin, grinding his hips down into yours.

“Hmm, I’ll suck it later,” you draw out with a smile.

He leans down to suck your bottom lip into his mouth, gently nibbling on the sensitive skin before pulling off. 

“God, mamita,” he exhales. “Love fucking this pussy. Takin’ me so well.”

His hips drive into yours at a devastating pace, only using a portion of his length to massage your pussy. You quickly adjust to him, allowing him to thrust deeper into you. You cry his name while simultaneously having all of the oxygen punched out of your lungs. Joel swallows your wails whole, moaning against your lips in return.

Your legs tense around his body, face twisting up with pleasure under the weight of his. Lips drag against your skin, anywhere he can reach. The room spins around you, eyes rolling back into your head as his hand snakes down to play with your clit. You desperately claw at Joel, gripping his curls in one hand and bruising his back with the other. 

“Dámelo. Give it to me like I want, sugar,” Joel coaxes. 

The bundles of twine prickling your flesh and holding you together in one piece snap, your body completely shattering into a million fragments underneath him. He stays buried inside you as you pulse around his cock, humming into your neck and soothing his hands over your burning skin. 

Joel gently settles onto his side near you, cupping your jaw and kissing you feverishly. You shift your body to face away from him, pushing back against his soaked erection. His eyebrows furrow, grunts of detest coming from him.

“No, mami, I want to look at you while I fuck you. Ven aquí, come here,” he corrects, grasping your arm to guide you to press up chest to chest with him. A brief hiss escapes him as the cool jewelry brushes up against his nipples.

“These’ll be the death of me,” he sighs, latching his mouth to yours once more as he maneuvers you the way he wants. 

His cock slips easily back into your wet heat, arms trapping your upper half against his as his legs anchor to the bed to buck into you. He grips onto your ass for leverage and you find yourself holding onto it with your own palm. It’s slower, intimate, reeling you in to take more, to take it all.

He draws another orgasm from you. Your heart thrums against his hardened chest, his pounding against the confines of his ribcage. He collapses on his back with a breathy groan, sweat perspiring on his forehead. You push back his sticky curls as he catches his breath this time.

“You still wanna suck it?” He chuckles cheekily, offering but not forcing. 

He’s surprised as you eagerly crawl down his body, curling over his thigh while taking his cock in your fist. Your back is to him once more, but beggars can’t be choosers, especially while he’s stuffed in your mouth so perfectly. His fingers drag along your spine, palm splaying flat to soothe the sensation quickly after. His hand stills and stomach flexes as you take as much of him as you can, pumping your tight fist over the remainder of his length.

“Fuck me,” he shutters mindlessly, “feels so good, amor. Treating me so good.”

The praises fuel you, moaning around his tip as he continues to trace shapeless trails onto your back. Your mind feels cloudy, not thunderstorms and impending doom cloudy, but rather a sunny, breezy, nothing could ever go wrong kind of cloudy. You feel taken care of for once, free to slip into a warm, blissful state with Joel. He feels safe.

“Come back, preciosa,” he grins as you make your way back up his body. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you deeply once more, running his hands gently all over your skin as you settle on top of him.

“Missed ya,” he chuckles, kissing your swollen pout a few more times before wetting his fingertips with his spit. He reaches down, circling your clit as his cock twitches against your seam. Your head falls beside his, feeling too heavy to hold up on your own.

Joel protrudes your cunt once more, nestling into you carefully at first. You writhe over him at the push and pull of his cock inside your fluttering walls, hips snapping down against his with subtle slaps of skin rejoicing. He picks up his pace beneath you, overwhelming your senses a bit too quickly.

You work your core to sit up, fully sheathed with his length as you grind against him. He grips onto your hips, watching you use him for your own pleasure. 

“Tan bonita, amor,” he hums smugly, his fingertips dancing along your bare thigh, his other hand tucked behind his head to prop himself up. “So pretty, mami, fuck.”

He tweaks his fingers against your nipples, pinching the pebbled flesh carefully as you ride his lap. Tufts of his neat pubic hair scratch at your clit, the friction of everything causing you to soak his lap further. You’re being pushed to your limits, throat dry and voice hoarse. Joel wishes to have put water on his bedside table, he would’ve had he’d known you’d end up here so quickly. 

“Doin’ okay, sweetheart?” He checks in, toying with your fingers that have found a home on his chest. You silently nod, eyelids low and face contoured with bliss.

“Think you can give me one more, bebita? Come on my cock one more time and I’ll give you whatever you need.”

Your voice hardly sounds like your own, but you mean it when you tell him yes, please. He feels it when you clamp down on his length, his thighs tensing so tight they almost cramp. His legs hinge at the knee, body pivoting you forward into his chest. Joel grabs fistfuls of your ass as he fucks up into you, all of the air leaving your lungs.

His grunts and groans become less calculated and intentional, thrusts becoming sloppier and instinctual. You squeeze him tight, toes curling as you already tumble towards your impending high.

“Mierda,” he hisses, strong arms pressing your torso firmly to his. His lips consume your every breath, whine and borderline scream.

“Take it, use me, amor. Dámelo, cariño, and I’ll give you my cum. Take it from me,” he grunts sharply, pressing into you impossibly deeper and faster. Your skin bursts into flames, embers showering your body as he pulls that final high from you. You shutter above him, dead weight against his body as he uses you to finish himself off. He evacuates your warmth and pumps out his load between your sticky, worn out figures with a drawn out groan. 

Joel makes the first move to stand up, cock softening and hanging between his legs. He starts to step towards his en suite bathroom to find a towel, but you reach for him.

“I’m just gettin’ somethin’ to clean you up, honey,” he smiles before seeing a sadness in your eyes, longing for him to come back. Tears prickle your eyes and Joel quickly makes his way back to the bed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay, baby, cálmate,” he hushes carefully, holding you close to him. “We’ll getcha cleaned up in a little bit, I’ll make you whatever you fancy for supper and relax with you, sound good?”

A nod suffices his question, knowing you trust him enough to stay rather than run off eases him as he grounds you back to reality with his warm embrace.

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[lisenberry]

The mountain is you

Ch. 3: I hear your voice in my head

Dom Price x Fem Reader

MDNI/NSFW/18+

CW: Dom/Sub, Bondage, Sex Work, Pain Play, Spanking, Temperature Play (shower), Spit, Voice Kink, Size Kink.

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2)

AO3

You sat back on your heels with your hands folded in your lap as he walked in.  His bootsteps seemed to vibrate across the wooden floor beneath your pillow.  A steady gait, with all of the suspense of a drum roll.

As you faced the high-backed chair, you could only make out the top of him until he made his way closer into view.  He was tall enough when you were standing up.  But on the ground at his feet, he eclipsed everything else around him.  There were no windows, no ceiling.  Just his thighs giving way to his waist, his arms and shoulders. 

Your head tipped back as far as it could just to take him all in, and even then, you came up short of meeting his eyes.

“Already off to a good start, I see.  You look lovely, sweetheart.”  He appraised you in a way that was both agonizingly slow and methodically brief, as he took off his jacket and slowly rolled up his sleeves

“Thank you, sir,” you answered, to the spot on his chest where his flannel shirt opened in a V.  It earned you a quick bob of his head in approval. 

He was starting you off easy.  That much was clear.  Like a teacher on the first day of school.  Throwing you softball questions to gauge how much of the summer reading you’d done over break.  How you responded determined how far he’d push you, and which side of him you’d get.

Could he see the goosebumps spreading across your skin at the mere sound of his voice?      

“Next time, I want you to look at me when you say it.”  He bent down only slightly, aiding your efforts just enough that you could obey. 

His clear eyes glinted patiently between his dark lashes.  Dark brows, dark beard.  They were like signal fires along an unknown path.  No choice but to give yourself up and follow.

“Yes, sir.”  A slight smile pulled at the corner of your lips as the first flutter of heat worked its way from your cheeks down to the echoing emptiness in the cradle of your hips.

“Good.  I like to begin with an inspection.  To assess your readiness, and to make sure your healed from the previous session.”

“I’m ready,” you quickly admitted when his bare hand grazed against the side of your cheek.  You turned into it, starved for even the slightest touch of his roughened palm.

“And I like to take my time exploring what’s mine,” he rumbled, firmly snagging a hold of your chin.  A gesture that simultaneously chastised you for speaking out of turn, and possessively staked his claim. 

You let out a surprised breath, and he took the opening as an invitation to slip his fingers inside your parted mouth.  Two at first, and you instinctively flattened your tongue and closed around their impressive girth. 

“That’s it.”  A short hum of approval followed, as your eyes slipped closed while you sucked them deeper into your throat.  “Don’t overexert yourself just yet.  There’s plenty of time to show me how much you can take.”

He let you savor him a bit before he pulled out with a wet pop of skin and spit, and you nearly fell forward at the loss.  You licked at the salty trail his skin left behind on your lips.  

“Turn around and bend over the stool.”  He pushed a plushily upholstered ottoman closer behind you.  It was the perfect height to kneel and bend against as your arms fell over the other side. 

“Open your legs wider, don’t be shy.”  He folded up the hem of your skirt and brazenly pawed at the meat of your ass in wide circles.  You felt the stretch and pull at your exposed holes, and you wondered if the pads of his fingers were abrasive enough to leave scratches behind. 

In the way his voice had already left etchings on your mind.

“Christ, you’re soaked.  Have you been touching yourself?”  It was barely even a question, the inflection missing from his even tone.

“Yes.”  He pulled his hands away at your answer, leaving a chill in its absence, intentionally.  “Sir,” you quickly corrected.

“Good girl.”  A harsh clap to your backside was your reward.  It smarted with a sharpness that caught you off guard.  He wasn’t taking it easy anymore.  “What do think about when you play with my sweet little cunt?”  His hand returned between your legs, and with it, a probing forefinger glided along the sensitive split of your folds.

You jumped at the sensation, pulling away from the intimacy of it.  How long had it been since you were touched like this?  Ghost had only ever let you use toys on yourself.  Those were the rules, for your safety and his.  Where were the rules now?

This is what you wanted...

“This, sir,” you answered with more certainty than you felt.  Another slap, and your muscles melted into the ottoman and your legs parted wider to brace for the next impact. 

But it didn’t come.  Instead, he pulled back and cleaned off his slick smeared fingers along the side of your thigh.

“This, sweetheart, is just a warm-up,” his low, sardonic voice crooned, as his hands snagged in your hair and arched you back far enough to see him towering behind you.  The back of your head hit the front of his thighs.  “I’ll try to take it slow this time, but no promises.”

Oh fuck, he was good, you shuddered at the thought.  The unknown.  The waiting.  The surprise.  He ticked the boxes of your kink like he wrote the book himself.  Like he’d been paying attention.  You almost broke scene in your gratitude, but you kept your eyes trained up at him, wondering if he could see it written all over your face.

He must’ve, because for a moment, he broke too.  A subtle crinkle at the corners of his eyes, a brief softness that you would’ve missed if you blinked.  Just before he bent down lower, and spit on your face.

He released your hair as you sputtered in shock when it hit your closed lips with a warm splat.  Your tongue darted out to taste the small piece of himself he offered to you.  Not a kiss so much as a wad of spit on the palm to seal the deal.  A promise to take care of you.

As you moved to catch the drop that rolled down your chin, he took hold of your wrists and held them above your head.  With a quickness that left your mind spinning, he knotted a loop of smooth rope around each one, binding them together like a sturdy set of cuffs.  He slung another loop over the exposed wooden beam along the ceiling.

Handy, you thought as he tied it off with a slipknot that left you hanging up on your tip toes.  Once again, the ottoman slid underneath you, but this time you kneeled on it.  He eyed you up and down, making sure you were secure before letting go of the steadying arm at your waist.

You weren’t weightless.  You knew this about yourself.  No one picked you up and carried you around because you were so tiny and pocket-sized.  You were just a woman, and hadn’t met someone big enough to throw you around like you were made of air.

You had substance.  You were made of things.  Matter and atoms, and particles, or whatever.  Flesh and bones.

So, when you hung there suspended, it felt like a dream, and all you could do was focus on the parts of you that felt contact.  Your wrists.  Your knees.  The ropes that cut into your skin, the plushness that kept you from hitting the floor.  You established your center of gravity and braced for the worst with an anticipatory thrumming low in your belly.  Deep within the cradle of your hips.

Nothing would pitch you over.  You could take anything. 

True to his word of being honest about what he was going to do, he flashed the paddle in front of you.  As wide as his hand, it was made of wood and wrapped in leather.  It made Ghost’s crop look like a feather duster.

You let out a clarifying breath through your teeth, licking at your spit-soaked lips to find that tether.  To his promise that burned sweet like spearmint and menthol tobacco.

“Anything you want say before we start?”  His rough-edged voice posed both challenge and threat.

It was the first stop on the train, you reminded yourself.  And he was making sure you knew you could get off anytime.

“No, sir—”

The words barely left your lips before he delt the first blow.  The slap of leather to skin echoed through the house, bounced off the windows and the walls. 

You didn’t scream, not yet, but the sting welled in your eyes to match the blooming fire on your ass.  When the second one swiftly followed, and even harder than the first, you nearly swallowed your tongue to stifle a gasp, wondering if he wanted to hear you. 

But you weren’t an actress.  This wasn’t for show.  If he wanted to hear you scream, to see you cry, he had to earn it.  Right there alongside you.

The third and fourth came slower and with slightly less force, but the fifth nearly rattled your teeth. 

“Oh, fuck!”  You finally exclaimed, no longer able to blink back the tears.  

“You liked that one, did you?”  He had the nerve to laugh behind you.  Was he emboldened by your feedback?  Was he enjoying this as much as you?

It wasn’t long before you lost track of how many whacks you’d taken.  He didn’t bother counting them aloud like some clock ticking away the time.  There wasn’t a limit.  The only one who could stop it was you.

“Had enough, yet?”  He checked in, winded from his own exertion. 

“No, sir.”  The words came slower, as if you had to pluck them out of a messily discarded pile in some dark corner, the more your strength drained away.  You were so close.  Right there on the brink.  You could see it like a trail disappearing over the horizon.

A steadying hand found your shoulder, squeezed warm and firm, as he moved closer behind you.  Enough to whisper in your ear.

“I’m not going to stop until you break.”

With the last command, and a final searing crack, you felt the fresh gush of squirt as you finally let go.  The scream you’d been waiting for.  That maybe he had been, too.

The sweet release that stole your breath and your mind, and dragged you all the way under.  And he hadn’t even touched you.  There was no vibrator strapped to your thigh.  Just a gentle hand on your shoulder.  The polarity to the abuse on your ass.  Nerves flayed and blown wide, you still needed the one thing that would pull you back together.

“Touch me, please,” you whimpered, with a voice hoarse from crying.  “I need to come.”  Deep in the subspace, you sagged limply against your bonds. 

“I can’t deny you anything, sweetheart.  Not when you ask so nicely.”

He pulled the quick release on the rope and caught you against his chest.  Sitting back on his chair, he held you facing forward onto his lap.  You were boneless, propped up only where he held you tightly in his grip.  Careful not to hold your neck, he instead wrapped his forearm under your breasts, cupping one in his palm through the thin silk fabric of your slip and pinning your bound wrists to your chest.

His other hand started at your mound of curls and trailed lower, parting the folds to slowly reach the tender bud at its apex.  He brushed it once, twice, before reaching lower.  Swirling circles around your opening, tracing along the trembling rim before gliding back up again. 

You squirmed weakly against his hips, desperate to touch him back.  To guide his hand where you wanted him to go, but you were helpless to do anything but weather his patience.  To be led at the pace he set.

His beard grazed the top of your shoulder and along the side of your neck.  In your addled brain, you imagined that he kissed you there, that his lips and tongue and teeth met skin.  That the ragged breaths of his need matched your own.

As his thumb worked the pearl of your clit in faster, deliberate circles, those thick fingers you suckled earlier slid deep into your walls.  The achingly tight stretch, combined with the precious friction brought you to a roaring climax of moaned oaths and sounds you’d never heard before.

“You did so good.”  You felt his hot breath against your shoulder as you shattered around him, along with a quick, supportive peck of his soft lips.  Too soft and too brief to register over the riot in your blood.  “I’m feeling generous.  Let’s try something else.”

A pouty whine of doubt was all you could offer, still in the incomparable thrall of an orgasm in subspace.  You couldn’t say no.  So deep under his sway, you’d give him anything.  Let him do anything.  There was no room for resistance in that vast, cloudy place. 

But you didn’t know what else was left.  What laid ahead was too far beyond your reach.

No thoughts, only sensations.  You couldn’t even focus enough to see beyond the fog.  All that held you up was the sound of his voice.  The strength of his arms as he lifted and turned your dead weight, hooking your wrists around his neck.  His hand never leaving your throbbing cunt.

“None of that.  You’ll like it, I promise.  But you’ll have to trust me.”  He curled his fingers forward, hooking deeper in a way that had you muffling your wild shrieks into his chest.  “You do, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, until he pulled his fingers away.  You clenched down harder and sank against them, but he slipped them free despite the protest.

“Words, remember?  Need to know you’re still with me.”  He swatted your cheek with the same sticky, wet palm.  Not enough to hurt, but it pulled you back out just enough to speak.

“Yes,” you answered, biting your lip to see if it was still there.  That you weren’t just a cloud of disembodied mist.  “I trust you,” as another slap opened your eyes to meet his. 

He really expected you to keep up the formalities after what just happened?  The world was a different place.  Surely the continents had shifted, and the oceans had dried up.

But there he was, you noted as he came into focus.  You hadn’t just imagined him.  Those signal fires lit up to guide you once more through the dark.  There was a freckle on his nose.  A dimple just above his beard.  He seemed to pause as well, and you realized how firmly he was pinched with restraint.  How tightly he held his own need for release. 

If it was a word he wanted, you’d give it to him.

“Sir,” you finally finished, with a small smile pulling at your tingling cheek.

“There’s a girl,” he said with a low chuckle, as he carried you to a different room.

One that smelled like sandalwood and citrus, with walls of such a bright white that you buried your face further into his shoulder to shield your eyes from it.  The fuzzy, light flannel was a soothing contrast to the sting at your backside.  It still pulsed and burned with each course of blood through the muscle and fat.

“You made quite a mess of yourself, I’m afraid.  Need to clean you up.”  The sound of creaking metal and the spray of water were harsh to your ears.

A strangled sound escaped your lips, half a cry, half a whimper.  This was going to hurt.  Your overexerted pussy perked up at the prospect of it.  It was a devious little thing, swollen and puffy with eagerness that your body could survive another round of punishment.

No, it wasn’t punishment, you corrected yourself.  It was what you needed.

He set you down slowly onto the closed toilet seat, untied your hands and pulled the silk shift up over your head like a doll being undressed and put to bed.  The sleek porcelain was so cool against your bare skin that you shivered at the loss of its paltry heat. 

“I’m right here.”

Keeping his eyes on you and his hands not far away, lest you fall over, he arranged a chair made of PVC pipe into the open shower area and stripped from his own clothes with a quickness that spoke to his own enthusiasm.  It was either that, or a natural efficiency with which he did all things. 

Pants, shirt, boots.  Until all that was left was the dark hair that covered him in varying degrees of masculine thickness from head to toe, and his briefs.  An erection tented the fabric to such a painful degree that you reached out for it, only to be distracted away.

“This one’s all about you.  Don’t tempt me to change my mind,” he slanted you a look that guaranteed you’d regret it as he mouthed at the back of your hand absently.

Two kisses?  You could get greedy for them if you weren’t careful.

But before you could muster any disappointment, he had you by the arms again and positioned you over the makeshift chair.  You sat astride it, with your ass facing just out of the stream of water and an opening below for easy access between your legs.  Your tits draped over the top.

He kneeled in front you, all the better to watch you to submit to him, when your rational brain was clamoring to find your safe word.  Abraded skin meeting hot water was a next level consequence that you weren’t prepared to face with him.

You usually did that part alone with a bottle of wine, your comfort candle, and your favorite movie waiting for you on the softness of your sofa.

But the endorphins that kept you down in the subspace also kept you pliant, giddy with desire.  Fearless.  Reckless, you would’ve argued, if you’d been in some other state of mind. 

Not when you still felt the aftershocks of bliss, and the rawness of your paddling.  Instead, you did your best not to flinch as he directed the steaming water along your skin.  Where you expected a searing torture, there was instead a satisfying burn.  Just shy of scalding.  Just shy of too much.  It heated you up like a cauterizing iron to a wound.  A healing type of hurt. 

Unlike a misplaced hand shying away from a hot stove, you leaned into it.  Arched against it like a bear to tree bark.  That itch you’d never been able to reach.  Dark and subterranean, it skittered around underneath, unable to be caught by the light.

And just when you thought you’d had enough—when the nerves began to die out under the overwhelming blaze—he turned it up hotter still.  A new wave of pleasure and pain, as the backs of his knuckles caressed the needy patch of your sex. 

Violence on one side, and serenity on the other.  Like two sides of a coin flipping end over end into an infinite universe.  It built a force within you that finally collapsed on itself, consuming you whole.  Slower, and somehow more shocking in its intensity than the first.

“Is this how stars are made?”  The last dizzying thought before you slipped beyond reach.

You awoke as if from a dream some time later, with your head in his lap and wrapped in a velvety soft gray robe.  Big enough to fit you like a blanket, it must’ve been his.  The clarity hit you fast, and you sat up with a start.  The waiting surge of adrenaline that always followed a scene found you well-rested. 

“I am so sorry.”

“Easy now.  Here, drink this.”  He adjusted himself to move with you, not letting you go as you tried to bolt, and tipped a bottle full of water towards your lips.

It even had a straw.  How thoughtful. 

“Thank you,” you added, not able to meet his assessing gaze.  Had you even said that yet?  Where were your manners?

“You’re welcome,” he answered breezily.  As if not really knowing what to say himself.

Probably because you squirted all over his expensive looking ottoman and said weird things about turning into a constellation when you came your brains out.

“I don’t want to keep you any longer.  I didn’t mean to take up your whole day.”  You looked at the clock and couldn’t believe it was already evening.

How long had he sat there just holding you?  Your empty stomach reminded you of the food you’d meant to stop for on the way home.

“Are you hungry?  I can order dinner if you want to stay a bit longer.”  He sounded more confident after you’d drained the water and handed it back to him.

You never wanted to leave the cocoon he’d wrapped you in, but it was best to take it slow as you stood to find your discarded clothes tucked behind the sofa. 

“I actually made plans, but next time, yeah?”  You assured him, when he looked at you so vulnerably that you reached for him.  It was only a brief touch to his forearm, but he seemed surprised by it.  “Will you send me your availability?”

A shitty way to say, “You just changed my life,” but you hoped there would be a next time.  That there was still more you could do for each other. You still had to hold up your end of the bargain.

“My calendar’s wide open, sweetheart.”

[httpscomexe]

Logan is in the mansions kitchen when the reader has trouble sleeping

Out of My Head

821 words

WARNING: THIS INCLUDES SELF HARM

I have so many more asks to go through

You reach for your phone that was sitting on your nightstand, which you had put down for the hundredth time in the last hour, telling yourself now you would go to sleep. 4AM. You groan, the sun would probably be starting to wake up given an hour or two. You on the other hand? You had class in 4 hours, and you’d probably have to skip today, which you knew Xavier wouldn’t be happy about, but you just couldn’t put your thoughts to rest.

You sit up, your body tired but your brain restless as you get off of your bed, walking over to your chair to throw on a pair of short shorts and a black skinny tank top before making way to you door in only your socks to get some tea or anything that might soothe you to sleep.

You knew exactly where the tea was, and realistically you weren’t supposed to leave your room this early, or late, whatever you might call 4 in the morning, but as long as you were quiet, you of course figure you’ll be fine. You doubted any of the professors would be awake at this hour.

The only worry you had was the teacher's kitchen might be locked at this hour. Xavier did tell you in the past, that if you couldn’t sleep, you could take some of the night tea that was in the teachers lounge, and luckily, as you reach the door, it’s unlocked.

Except the moment you step inside and close the door behind you, you stop in your tracks. In front of you, standing next to the counter, leaning on it slightly with a beer in his right hand, was Logan. You didn’t see him often, considering he wasn’t one of your teachers. But you’ve definitely never seen him at 4 in the morning only wearing pyjamas low enough you could see his V line, and shirtless you might add.

“Oh uh… Hi, Professor Howlett.” Your voice is soft and tired as you speak. You truly don’t understand why you couldn’t fall asleep.

“Why are you up already?” Was his only response. His voice was also tired, but as you walked up to the cabinet with tea boxes in it, you noticed his eyes trailing over you.

“Couldn’t sleep. Xavier said it was alright for me to get tea if I have problems sleeping.” You explain, and he doesn’t respond, he just stares at you.

“Looks to be more than that.” He nods towards your hands, no, your arms, and you look down. Shit, why did you do that? You wonder, your eyes now glued onto your wrists, and all the way up your forearms. Which were sliced with dried blood that had dripped down your arm in whatever position you had it in. You hadn’t even realised you had done it, you were so into your head.

“Here, come here.” He speaks again. Everyone in the school knows that you get lost in your head sometimes and can’t remember certain things you’ve done, this time you had hurt yourself.

You hesitate at first as he waits for you to go to him and he sets his beer on the counter before grabbing a clean towel and wetting it, then he grabs your arm carefully before he gently presses the towel to your arm, cleaning the dry blood off your arm completely before looking down at the cuts. Turning your arm carefully to inspect the severity of it.

“I’ll never understand how the pain doesn’t bring you back to reality. He tells you, still holding your arm with a gentleness you didn’t know he had. He also seemed so… rough.

“When I’m not… thinking, I don’t really feel anything, or see anything… I’m surprised I even breathe…” You tell him in almost a whisper, genuinely embarrassed of yourself.

“Do you have a first aid kit in your room?” You nod

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Here.” You hand him the kit shyly, and sit down on your bed as he follows behind you before opening the kit and taking out an ointment, then he gently rubs it over your cuts, making sure he doesn’t miss a single spot.

“Thank you.”

“Now why can’t you sleep?” He asks after welcoming you then sitting next to you on your bed. “What’s on your mind that could possibly have you feeling like this?” His arm goes around your shoulders, and suddenly your eyes finally feel heavier, and he understands exactly what you need as he leans back on your bed, taking you with him and keeping you in his lap as his hands gently find their way under your shirt to touch your warm skin, his fingers running small circles over your hips.

You swear you hear him say something, but it didn’t matter, you were finally falling asleep, but in his arms. All you needed was for someone to help you feel safe…

[boopshoops]

TWST OC INTRODUCTION - TCOAV

Joel Bullion - Makings of Greatness

Name: Joel Bullion

Nicknames: Buzzbait, Thistle

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/they

Sexuality: Aromantic Asexual

Birthday: November 30 (Sagittarius)

Age: 39 (In canon and AU)

Height: 6'2 or 188cm

Voice Claim(s): Jellzybelle

Twisted from: John Silver from Treasure Planet.

Unique Magic: "Rattle the Stars" Summons exactly that in the palm of Joel's robotic hand: a star. However, this is not just any star, this star's life flashes before your eyes, resulting in a controlled supernova. It creates a burning hot flash bang, with tremors forming cracks in the ground depending on the magnitude of the star itself. The explosion knocks enemies away from Joel. The size of the star dictates how much magic they will use, as well as how much blot he will accumulate. He is unsure what the maximum size of a star he can create is, but he does know that he has gotten dangerously close to overblotting while trying. In his current state, the blast is not deadly and primarily works to stun opponents or, at most, render them unconscious.

Grade: Teaches Freshman, Sophomores, and Juniors

Class: Teaches Culinary Crucible, Astrology, and Tech. Occasionally aids with Physical Education.

Hobbies: Treasure hunting, finding constellations, hiking, traveling, spelunking, deadlifting, cooking.

Likes: Pernil, old school tech, adventure novels, hard cash, or anything he can sell for gold really, pranking Ezra and Crowley, telescopes, planetary science, zodiac signs.

Dislikes: Grading (this man should not be a teacher), any dish with fish in it, sticklers, staying still, overt formality, the cold, humorless individuals.

Fears: Immobility, optometric illnesses, not amounting to anything, not living his life to the fullest, birds.

Summary: "Why does he even teach?" is a question that crosses the mind of almost every NRC student in one of Joel's classes. He's shameless, sarcastic, and finds entertainment in messing with students and staff alike. Teaching is only a side job for him, his real passions lie elsewhere. Nonetheless, he is highly skilled in a variety of subjects, making him indispensable.

He abuses that privilege, of course, taking the time to have as much fun as he can in what he calls a boring dump of a school and make sure everyone around him suffers for it. Though this usually just amounts to light teasing and pranks. They do not behave like an educator or mentor. He does not typically enjoy interacting with most of his students in a serious manner, and the ones they do enjoy talking with are treated more like casual, distant friends.

With the responsibility of teaching so many subjects heavy on their shoulders, he does make plenty of time to shrug it off to work on his true dream: getting as rich as possible. Now, now, there are plenty of figures at NRC who want that, yeah? But Joel wants the lottery. He wants to struggle, look high and low, and come out above everyone with something ancient, shiny, and, hopefully, covered in expensive jewels. Over everything and everyone, they enjoy the hunt of it. To the point where he values it above people and relationships. Hell, they'd fly to the moon to get it if they had to.

Outfit Inspiration

Author's Notes: JOEL. Ahhh Joel. I'll admit, this was harder to write compared to the others! Everyone else's development, personality, struggles, etc. came very naturally to me, while, with joel, I really had to sit and brainstorm for awhile. Though, I can now say that he has grown on me a lot, and I plan on giving him more of a role in TCOAV like Ezra! I have lots of plans for him! Old ass man <33 (affectionate, /j) this will probably be the last new TCOAV oc for a while! But just know, there will be more >:)

Tag list! v

@lowcallyfruity @kitwasnothere @distant-velleity @thehollowwriter @justm3di0cr3

@skriblee-ksk @cecilebutcher

[oneforthemunny]

everybody loves somebody |older!eddie| part 10

prompt: your first valentine's day with eddie.

age gap relationship. Eddie is 42 and reader is 26. everything is consensual.

contains: age gap, dilf!eddie, older!eddie, alcohol, language, p in v sex, oral male and fem receiving, really sweet and fluffy and smutty. minors dni 18+

The front office had delivered the roses to your door during your planning, smiling and giggling with holiday filled joy about how beautiful the roses were. And they were, but the card attached was even better.

'Bunny, Happy Valentine's Day to my best girl. You have my heart every second of every day. I can't wait to see you tonight. Love, Ed'

Your blush matched the roses, heart soaring and floating the rest of the day.

The other teachers had cooed, tight lipped smiles when you passed with the bouquet. You could feel their jealous gazes, eyes cutting and lips pursed.

The kids had asked a million questions, bombarding with you about who your boyyyyfriend was, followed by a stream of giggles and cackles. The candy from the party didn't help their energy, bouncing at their desks, ripping open heart shaped suckers and candy hearts.

Eddie had shown up at your apartment at five o'clock on the dot. He'd had a midday shift today, taking the night off so he could spoil you. He cleaned up nice for you, he always did. Curls tamed and framing his face neatly, black button down and black slacks, leaving the top unbuttoned so you could see his inked skin. Sliding your jacket on, opening your doors, lips on your cheek, pressing kisses and words that made you giggle into your skin.

"Enzo's?" You asked, brows raised when the truck rolled into the parking lot. Cars filled the spots, but you knew on nights like tonight they only did reservations. A big Valentine's Day dinner that was near impossible to get into anyways.

Eddie grinned, hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles up your bare leg. "Told you I'd spoil you, bunny." He pressed his lips to yours, squeezing your thigh when he ran around to open your door.

You didn't miss the way the hostess raised her brow at the two of you, eyes flickering from you back to him, then at his tattoos. Your eyes narrowed at her, lifting a challenging brow to the snooty high schooler. Her lips pressed together, but she showed you to your seats, nose in the air.

You passed Steve and Nancy in the restaurant, the two having a child free Valentine's dinner to themselves. Eddie waved, the two sharing matching smirks before you were seated.

"You didn't have to do this for me, Ed." You smiled, looking at the candles that illuminated your table. Eddie reached over, pouring champagne into your flute. "I would've been happy with Benny's." You grinned.

Eddie laughed softly, lifting his own glass. His eyes sparkled when he looked at you. "Well, maybe next year." He said, tapping his glass with yours, enjoying the way you blushed, trying to hide behind the glass. "To our first Valentine's Day. One of many."

He ordered your food, you let him, content on letting him be in control tonight, letting him spoil you for the evening. You knew he loved to, smirking at you after he'd tell the waiter exactly what you wanted. Proud of himself for how he took care of you.

The champagne poured, Eddie ordered dessert, the two of you chatted in the dim light of Enzo's, the classical music playing softly in the background only aiding to the snooty vibe of the place.

"My first graders wanted to know who sent me the flowers today." You grinned. "Thank you, by the way, they were stunning. Beautiful."

Eddie smiled. "Of course." He nodded, reaching his hand out to grab yours across the table. "I got you somethin' else too." He moved into his jacket, pulling out a small, square shaped, black box.

You gasped when he opened it, teardrop pearl earrings with gold clasps lined with tiny diamonds. You saw them weeks ago, a little after Christmas when he was taking his watch to be fixed. You'd told him they were beautiful, so dainty and perfect. So, he went and got them for you.

"Eddie, you shouldn't-"

"Sure I should have." Eddie waved at you, grinning at the way you delicately reached out to hold the box. "They're gonna look beautiful on you, baby. Happy Valentine's Day."

You smiled, clasping them in your hands. You leaned across the table, not caring at the glances or side eyed stares you got to kiss him, fully and passionately. Your head swam from the champagne, and your heart was fluttering, you felt like it might fly right out of your throat.

Eddie chuckled through the kiss, hands holding your jaw, gently. By the time you were brought your dessert, you were ready to go. Eddie had it wrapped up to-go before the two of you left, giggly and blushing all the way to the car. He stopped before he opened your door, kissing you hard, pressing your back up against the cold metal of the truck.

The ride home was sweet. Stolen kisses, giggles, Eddie serenading you with love songs on the radio. Eddie's house was quiet when the two of you stumbled in, Brielle was at Gina's for the night.

Eddie's hands were all over you, roaming your black, silk dress, pawing desperately at the fabric. His lips on your neck, scruff of his beard rubbing against your sensitive skin. You knew you'd be chaffed raw by tomorrow, but you didn't care.

"Wait," you gasped, pushing Eddie's chest slightly when his lips sucked on your neck. Eddie looked at you with confusion, hands still tight on your hips.

"Wait, I-I have a present for you too." You said, blushing and nervous. You clutched your purse in your hands, white knuckled with the strap between your fingers.

Eddie cocked a brow, eyes falling down to your purse. "Bunny, c'mon, you didn't have to-"

"Yes, I-I," You laughed. "How about, you go in the bedroom, wait for me, and I'll be there in a minute? Ok?"

Eddie raised his brows, a dark look taking over his features. You grinned, legs clenching with excitement. "I'll just be a minute. I promise."

You slipped into the bathroom in the hall, back pressed against the door, lying your purse on the sink. You pulled out the red lingerie piece you'd been hiding. Lacy, one piece set- well, it was so revealing, it might as well been nothing at all. Crotchless so it exposed your center, lacy mesh material so sheer you could see right through the two small heart details that attempted to cover your nipples. It was high cut on the sides, plunging low on the front. Scandalous and delicate.

Eddie had lost his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, sleeves rolled up as he waited on the bed. You peeked around the corner, hidden by the door as you grinned. "You ready for your gift, Mr. Munson?" You asked.

Eddie smirked back, spreading his legs farther when he sat into the bed. "Can hardly stand it, bunny. Show me what you got me."

You took a breath, pushing the door open, revealing yourself, changed into the lacy red piece. Eddie's eyes bulged, roaming over your body as you walked closer to him.

"It was supposed to have little wings and an arrow, but," You shrugged, spinning around for him. "Whaddya think?"

Eddie swallowed, reaching out to you, eyes moving from your breasts to your exposed center, back up and down, all over. His hands pulled you closer, so you were standing between his legs. He spun you around slowly, fingers tracing over the thin cloth that barely covered any part of your ass.

"Holy shit." Eddie breathed, hands moving fro your waist back to your ass. "You bought this for me?"

You smiled, nodding excitedly. "Happy Valentine's Day, baby." You whispered, lips brushing over his. "Hope you like your gift."

And oh, did he.

Eddie had no problem showing you how much he liked his gift. He was buried between your legs not minutes later, your claves down his back, heels of your feet digging into his shoulders and moving around like his own pair of angel wings.

Eddie sucked on your clit, fingers pumping slow and lazy in you, curling so he jammed into your g-spot, leaving you crying out and gushing. Your hands wrapped in his curls, crying out when he'd bury his nose into you, inhaling your scent entirely while devouring you from the inside out.

He'd pulled down your straps, leaving the top part around your waist so he could toy with your nipples, grinning into you at the way your back arched when he rolled them between his fingers.

You were a puddle when he finished, barely holding yourself up when you climbed down the length of his body, trailing sloppy, wet kisses. "'M gonna thank you for dinner." You said, hazy and spacey. "Thank you for takin' care of me."

Eddie smirked, pushing your hair out of your face when you fumbled with his pants. You palmed him through his black briefs, kissing the outline of his cock so delicately he lurched towards you.

You kissed up the length of him, tongue trailing back down lightly. You knew by now how he liked it, slow and a little teasing at first. Your mouth sucking lightly on his sac until he was throwing his head back with a groan, leaking from his tip. His hands found your hair, fisting tightly and pulling at your scalp.

You took your time. You really wanted to show him how much you appreciated him, how much you loved him. He didn't thrust into your mouth, or fuck your mouth until you choked around him. He let you swallow him taking him slowly and sweetly. Kitten licks to his tip that led to you nuzzling the hair at his base, him stuffed down your throat.

That's how he fucked you that night, slow and meaningful. There was no rush, no thrill to fuck quickly and hard. His body was pressed to yours, your hands on his back, heels digging into the flesh of his ass. Eddie kissed down your neck, muttering sweet words and praises Ito your skin, sweaty bodies conjoined together as the bed squeaked with every slow rock of his hips against yours.

Your eyes rolled back, toes curling when he circled his thumb around your clit. "'S good for me, bunny. That's right. Let me make you feel good, sweet girl." Eddie rasped against your cheek, pressing soft kisses into your heat licked skin.

Your nails raked down his back with every orgasm he pulled out of you. You clamped around him again, tears leaking out of your eyes. You could tell by the way his grip tightened on your waist that he was close, but he didn't pick up his speed. He kept it consistent and rhythmic, the way you liked it. Your heart swelled that he knew that about you now.

Eddie groaned, muscles clenching when he released, warmth filling you from the inside out. His sticky bangs pressed against your forehead, his head falling against yours, lips brushing and noses touching. "I love you so much, baby, so much, fuck." Eddie muttered, chest rising and falling quickly against you.

His head dropped to your shoulder, breath steadying as you remained wrapped in each other, close together. Eddie looked up at you, you ran a hand through his sweaty curls.

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby." Eddie whispered, lips pressing against your jaw, trailing all the way to your lips. "I'll spoil you every other day, too. I promise, bunny."

"Yeah?" You asked, giggly and dazed, coming down from your own high.

Eddie nodded, hands fisting the fabric that was tossed on the space next to you two, lacy red fabric that had been sweat soaked and was now wrinkled. "I promise." He said. The lines by his eyes crinkled when he smiled, moving the discarded lingerie closer to you two. "Especially if you wear this again, baby, fuck." You giggled, wrapping your arms around him to pull him closer to you.

You stored the lingerie piece in the back of his underwear drawer, saving it for the next time you needed it. You went to work the next day, high neck sweater to cover the hicks on your collarbones and breasts, but ears shining and sparkling with your new dazzling earrings.

[stargirlsmooch]

big questions

student!bucky barnes x fem!reader

when bucky's crush comes to him needing his help with school, he ends up aiding her in more ways than one. not before she can ask him a question or two (specifically about his muscles). fluff + smut! 18+ 2.8kwords.

!protected p in v sex, a lotta nerves, some nervy fluff! divider: @firefly-graphics

So beautiful. That was the only thought in his head as he watched you laugh with your friends on the other side of the cafeteria, your head was thrown back in friendly ecstasy and your eyes were glowing with joy. Sometimes he wished he could be the one to cause that reaction in you.

But you and Bucky didn’t talk much: you were in different crowds, belonged to different labels, and had different interests. Whilst you spent your time socialising with anyone that you could and being that welcoming smiling face for everyone to rely on, Bucky preferred to study in the library or hide out in the art classroom with his paintbrushes and canvases. 

Although you were all the things that he could ever want personified, he was still very intimidated by you and liked it better when he was just admiring you from afar and not embarrassing himself in front of you by tripping over his words.

Distracted, he stood up and threw his half-eaten sandwich and empty bottle of water into the bin, swinging his backpack over his broad shoulder as he made his way towards the exit, on his way to class. He managed to force his eyes away from you as his hand met the cold oak of the cafeteria door, pushing it open and out into the busy corridor, filling with other students on their way to their lessons.

Bucky shared some of his classrooms with you, and in this one, he was lucky enough to be sitting right next to you. Just as he was flipping his notebook to the next available page, you wandered inside, multiple pairs of lips singing a “hello” as you pulled out your chair next to Bucky’s.

“Hey, Buck.” You said, a cheerful tilt to your words. Bucky replied with a tight-lipped smile, knowing that if he spoke it would be just above a whisper and probably littered with a voice crack or two.

He hoped he didn’t come across as rude or unamicable, but he would much rather take that over having to live through the humiliation of trying to talk to you and having only silence come out of his mouth. But, honestly, you liked the quietness that came with Bucky and how he would nod, chuckle or even just smile at you when you were going off on a tangent in class, silently asking him to be the listener you so desperately craved.

So, although Bucky had never actually spoken a word to you before, he had learned an awful lot about you just through being present and offering an ear. That’s what made you so comfortable around Bucky, and now English was the lesson you looked forward to most, just because he was there with you. 

Bucky expected you to start talking as soon as your backside hit the seat, but you remained quiet as you dug through his pencil case and took a pen for yourself, writing the date in your book and waiting for the teacher to arrive. 

Five minutes ticked by and you still hadn’t said a word. Very unlike her. 

Slowly, Bucky’s worry wrestled with his fear of shame until he brought his fist up to his mouth and cleared his throat, readying his vocal cords for use and putting off all the awkward possibilities of how this could go. 

“You okay, Y/n?” 

Your eyes met his as he finished his question, slightly wide and confused as you registered that he had been the one to speak, as well as… how sexy his voice was. It hit you deep in the pit of your stomach, a feeling no one else had really managed to erupt in you, and yet here Bucky was doing it so easily.

“Umm… not really. Just school stuff though, it’ll be okay.” You said, still managing to grace him with a happy smile as you turned back to your paper, mindlessly flicking the corner of the page. 

“I can help you study or something if you want.” The offer left him before he had time to think about it, he was just acting on instinct and trying his best to save his pretty girl from distress. 

“You would do that? Really?” You asked, your eyes lighting up with hope as your hand latched onto his arm, checking he was still real. You were in anguished need of a little aid right about now- with two papers due at the end of the week and your hold on motivation slipping, Bucky was your only hope.

The guy in question could only nod his head slowly as the heat from your palm radiated through his arm, distracting his thoughts and turning them into mush. Fuck, she’s touching me.

“Great! Is today after school okay for you?” You asked, releasing his arm and turning back to the front to pay attention to the class that was just starting. Bucky could only manage a quiet sound of agreement before he too turned around, trying his hardest to focus on the information being thrown his way.

You were trying to concentrate, the feeling of Bucky’s hard bicep still present in your hand as you crossed your legs and squeezed your thighs together, trying to dispel some of the tension. Whilst you worked on taking down some notes and ridding your mind of anything inappropriate, you started workshopping some more ways to get Bucky to talk again.

So, you decided to throw caution ot the wind and feed your curiosity and ask a question that had been on your mind for quite a while…

“Hey, Buck.” You started, grabbing his attention,” you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to but, how did you get so big?” 

You squeezed that bicep of his for good measure, letting him know that you were talking about muscles and not anything else… 

Bucky’s pen slowed as he focussed his attention on your question and the answer he would inevitably have to give to you. He had spoken once today already, he could totally do it again. At least he hoped he could. 

“My… my dad works in construction and I help him on the weekends, that’s all.” He answered quietly, giving you another glimpse of that deep voice you were quickly becoming addicted to, whilst also trying to use his long hair as a shield to hide his blush.

“Makes sense. Do you ever work shirtless?” You questioned, unable to stop the cheeky giggle from escaping you at the sight of his eyebrows raising. 

“Sometimes, when it’s hot.” Bucky replied, logical as ever. He wasn’t blind to your flirting, but he had convinced himself that it really wasn’t what it seemed to be- a stunning girl like you had no interest in him. There’s no way. 

You laughed quietly at him, finding his analytical answer to be cute and endearing, far from the images circulating your mind; mainly Bucky’s abs. But you managed to push through until the end of class, walking out and into the hall with him on your way to his car. He pulled the door open for you when you reached it, making you swoon at his chivalry as you sat in the leather seat, your eyes trained on his ass  through the windscreen as he made his way to the driver’s side.

Bucky’s hand was itching to hold onto your thigh as he drove, he had seen the romantic gesture in films and with other couples and longed to do it with you. Maybe he would at some point…

His back was leaning comfortably against the side of your bed as he sat on the floor, the soft mattress supporting his shoulders as he typed on his laptop, helping you come up with a plan for one of your essays. You watched his fingers dance across the keyboard, his forearms flexing and installing more pictures inside you.

The horniness had gradually been building up, starting with a small throb in your clit but now you feel your slick wetting the cotton of your underwear as you lay on your stomach on your bed, looking over Bucky’s head. Bucky was, unaware of your movements as he gave all of his attention to the screen. Your hands started at his shoulders, moving down slowly to lay on his hard chest, giving his pecs a little squeeze.

“Do you wanna take a break, Bucky?” You asked, bringing your lips right up to his neck and placing a little kiss on his soft skin. He didn’t know what to do or how to react, so he just froze and kept his eyes straight, worrying that if they ventured he wouldn’t be able to control himself.

“Sure.” He managed to whisper, closing the lid on his computer and sliding it off his lap. 

You climbed off the bed as gracefully as you could, making sure your short flowing skirt wasn’t revealing too much to the gorgeous man sitting beneath you. His eyes trailed the skin of your bare thighs, imagining the sight that he would see if he just reached forward and lifted up the material covering you. 

He had dreamed of that moment more times than he could remember: the feeling on your soft body perfectly moulding with his, the adorable moans and whimpers you would let out, the way you would wrap so tightly around him. Of course, Bucky had never had a chance to put these plans into motion, with anyone, as his perpetual nerves limited his opportunities of talking to girls. 

You were the only one he wanted anyway.

As you sat down between his legs, close enough that you could lay your hands on his thighs, both of your heartbeats picked up to an uncomfortable pace- you had never been so nervous. Bucky kept his hands locked on his tummy, trying to dispel the urge to touch you as you looked at him subtly, picking at a loose thread on your rug.

“I have another question,” you asked quietly, moving your hand so it was resting on his knee, “and you have to promise to answer.”

Bucky nodded.

“Do you like me?” 

His head shot up, eyes wide and full of tension, not managing to hide the truth like he so desperately wished he could. He was never good under pressure, always managing to let his truths and feelings be shown through his blue eyes, it was like a by-product of the anxiety.

You giggled to yourself, looking back down at the floor as you processed the information, trying to think of the best way to let him know that you felt the same way. Straddling his lap and lacing your hands through his hair seemed way too forward, so you settled for getting up on your knees and leaning towards him, your faces inches apart.

“I like you too, handsome.” 

The kisses started on his cheeks, leaving behind glossy pink lip prints all over his face, as he basked in the glory that your lips pressed into him, feeling almost as cherished as he wanted to make you feel. You had every intention of staying knelt in front of him, but that subdued confidence started assembling in Bucky again, to the point where he reached forward, a hand in between your thighs, pushing them apart and pulling each one towards him until you were straddling him, the way you thought about earlier. 

Laying your hands on his pecs again, unable to stop yourself from squidging them one more time, you laughed as he flexed them under your fingers beforeyou moved your attention to his biceps, tightening your hands on those too. 

“You’re so big.” 

“Just you wait.” He laughed, not realising he had actually said that out loud until your wandering hands stilled and your eyes met his again, his brain racking with worry. 

“And you’re funny too.” You said, chuckling at his innuendo, letting your hands drift down his stomach and closer to his crotch, itching to get your hands on him. But you knew there was a huge possibility that Bucky wasn’t ready to go that far, so you stopped what you were doing and looked up at him again.

“Do you wanna have sex, Buck?” 

“Yeah.” 

With confirmation safely in your hands, you reached under his shirt, grabbed the hem and pulled it up and off of him, watching the way his muscles moved. You had no time to oggle him, as Bucky went for your shirt too, tugging it over your head in one swift motion, before reaching behind and unclasping your bra.

The two of you were a mess of desperation, clothes finding themselves on the floor before you had any idea they had even come off your body, Bucky’s hands ripping the cotton from you in a deep excitement to have you.

“Condom?” He asked against your lips, bringing you back to sit on his naked lap, his throbbing cock laying comfortably against his tummy. You hummed, acknowledging his question and reaching over to your bedside table from your place on the floor, pulling out the unopened box.

“Never done this before so…” You explained, signalling to the sealed pack you were struggling to rip into. Bucky laid his hands on yours, stopping your floundering and easily popping it open and taking one out.

“This is a first for both of us.” 

You smiled at that, a morsel of nervousness leaving your head as you relaxed into his chest, one hand of his grazing up and down your back as he used his other and his teeth to open the condom. Your head was resting on his shoulder, giving every inch of flesh you could reach a kiss.

Whilst you were feathering smooches across Bucky’s chest, he managed to work his way around the protection, struggling for only a second, before he was sliding his tip through your folds, making you shudder. 

But as you were about to lower yourself down on him for the first time, he held your hips up, stopping you, as he pushed himself onto his feet, turning around and facing the bed, laying you gently on the mattress. Shuffling backwards into the middle of the bed and watching as Bucky climbed up with you, laying himself in between your legs and grabbing the base of his cock, you smiled sweetly at him. 

“Do it, Bucky.” 

He slid inside with one smooth thrust, his thickness opening you up tenderly as he lowered himself down on you, holding himself up on his forearms which were laid on either side of your head. You whimpered with every movement, every loving plunge of his cock, every bump of your clit against his front, every soothing kiss he placed on your forehead.

“Shit… You feel so good.” He groaned, weakening his actions in order to drag it out for longer, just nudging that special spot inside of you with his tip and gently teasing your walls open. “Does it feel good for you?”  

“So fucking good.” Your eyes were closed tightly, ensuring that the feeling of him entering you had no distractions, as you gripped his shoulders and wrapped your legs around him, driving him in deeper.

“Oh my God, Bucky.” You whispered, a sentence littered with whimpers and happiness as he sucked a bouquet of little hickies onto your neck. 

At one point, Bucky really started to torture you; sitting back on his knees, holding your legs up and apart, putting your perfect little pussy on display and watching his cock split you open over and over again. The change of position was sweet torment, hitting parts of you that made you have to bite down on your lip to stop the screaming… until Bucky slid his thumb into your mouth for you to suck on.

And that’s how you came: drooling on your man’s thumb imagining it was his cock in your mouth, whilst he instead pushed into you, changing his pace from time to time just to tease you. 

It made your legs drop open even wider, a rush of wetness pouring out of you as Bucky finished too, an almost-pained moan leaving him as his hands hugged your hips tightly. He kept ahold of you as he pulled out, leaving you momentarily to get rid of the condom before coming back and laying down next to you and pulling you onto his chest. 

“I’m gonna ask you another question,” You said, a few minutes later, after your breathing had returned to normal, “can we do that again?”

[sunnylands-world]

Porn for Mr. styles

Pairing: Harry styles x Fem reader

Summary: your teacher finds out there's more to your good girl act…

Word count: 1'185

Warning: mentions of porn video, daddy kink, older man but the reader is in college, p in v in classroom, I think that's it

Universe: teacher x student

A/n: are you guys tired of Harry or want more 😏

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Harry was in his class teaching the lesson when a boy in the far off corner interrupted.

"A yo look at this shit. she's so hot what I'd give to fuck that pussy."

Mr. Styles' head whipped around fast enough to give someone whiplash. I don't get paid enough for this, he thought to himself.

"Mr. Fern, care to share with me why you just interrupted my class?" the boy stood to his feet, hands in the air.

"Hey man, she's for everyone." the boy said, finally meeting the last step and turned his screen to Harry who's eyes widened in shock. his thoughts ran mad. not you anyone but you. His A+ student, who hugged him, smiled and was well behaved. Why, he wondered. Your voice booming through the screen as you whimpered and moaned. He pushed the screen away, disappointed by what he saw. Class ended and he sat in his chair confused.

Why?

You were so smart and very attractive, if Harry could have looked at you that way he would have. You were kind, beautiful, and well mannered. Now Harry thought about it, he didn't ask about student and teacher relationships here at the college. He tried to push away the thoughts that crossed his mind. how you looked so good whimpering and whining and what you would look like screaming his name.

He let his mind tell him It was fine to look at you on the site. he typed it in. he looked and looked till he found your video clicking on it and in a heartbeat you were on top of a pink toy moving on it like your life depends on it and in a missed of the moment you said something that shocked the skin off his body.

"Harry, harder" you cried and your eyes shot open and you got up with fear on your face and cut the video. Now Harry knew there were other people with his name but what were the odds that you knew someone else named Harry? And if he was right that would mean…you were fantasizing about fucking him and he was doing the same.

So now he knew how you sounded saying his name and he found that night to be a restless one. He eventually shut his eyes deciding he'd discuss this with you at school the next day. He wondered if you'd even show or if you thought that he saw the video.

Was that the point all along?

He got up and dressed quickly heading to his class. He wanted to blame the pace he was moving at to get to the school on his morning coffee but he knew it was because of you…

As soon as he arrived at class he hesitated, not sure how to approach this so he just called you in.

you entered doing your usual hug and smile only this time Harry didn't do it back. you looked confused, pouting like you didn't know what you had done and Harry had to admit he admired your ability to hide what you had done for however long you had.

"Have I done something wrong Mr styles" you asked. He could think of a million things you did but he lightly smiled and decided to rip it off like a band aid. "

"ms.[Last name] I found you on a porn website."

You felt tears come to your eyes and were about to speak, afraid you'd lose everything you worked hard for but he cut you off.

"why?" he asked, his voice raised a bit and knowing you were probably leaving school you let out everything.

"I'm sorry, I just got a slight crush on you. you're so attractive Mr. styles! Your eyes, your hair, your voice-" you breathed.

"I did it because I wanted you to see me in the beginning and try to seduce you but after a while you hadn't and I just kept doing it hoping you would" your head fell in shame with tears on your face.

"I understand if you have me removed for this" you said in a low voice. He leaned across the desk

"no" he said, your headshot up surprised. He pulled you to his mouth and you moaned into his lips. your fingers begin to tug at his hair.

"Harry," you said breathlessly and he pulled back.

"yeah" he said

"fuck me" you said looking into his green eyes.

He stood from the chair, grabbing his belt and unbuckling it. He swiftly pulled his pants down, freeing his hard cock from his boxers.

"Come here princess, let daddy fuck you" he said, and like you were under a spell you pulled your clothes away and came to him. You kissed him roughly, his tip brushing your entrance and his head fell back.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna loss my job but I need to know what if feels like to be inside you" he said reaching between the two of you and stroking himself. You watch desperately and when his now dark green eyes meet yours he pulls you closer picking you up.

"Put your legs around my waist baby" he ordered slapping your thigh and you do as told letting out a gasp as he enters you making a snuggle for his cock. he grabbed your hips pulling you up and down his head falling back as yours comes forward into his neck to quiet your moaning and gasping as he pounds into your g-spot like he doesn't care if it makes you scream.

And although you want to be quiet for his sake and yours you can't seem to stop the loud noises coming from you and right into his ear.

"dear god [name], I'm gonna fall" he moans, pushing you up against the white board and thrusting into you again. you can't deny how hot and wet this makes you and you know you won't forget every time you see this board.

"Mr.styles'' you moaned out "yes princess," he answered, still rearranging your walls with each slam into your g-spot "it feels so good" you babble somehow fucked dumb already and Harry chuckles.

"I know, daddy's girl is taking his cock so well" he groans, kissing your neck with his teeth grazing it.

you nodded, feeding the older man's ego. He holds you tighter, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you steady and each thrust fills the class with a soft clap and ripple to your ass.

"you're so tight for daddy, squeezing his cock. Keeping him nice and warm, yeah?" he announced. you shiver, moaning and whimpering.

"daddy" you mutter against him.

"yes princess?" he groaned, gripping a handful of your ass.

"I'm gonna- I wanna" you stutter, your head falling back and he gently slaps your ass in warning for loud moans but he looks at you smugly. "cum for daddy" he whispered in your ear, tongue grazing the sensitive area. you let go, eyes rolling into the clouds and his name leaves your lips in a scream.

Hopefully Harry has a job Tomorrow…

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[kp777]

By Jake Johnson

Common Dreams

June 25, 2024

"Instead of siphoning money and increasing tax breaks to subsidize private education, we have a responsibility to ensure all students have access to quality K-12 education."

Sen. Bernie Sanders released a report Tuesday detailing how right-wing billionaires are bankrolling coordinated efforts to privatize U.S. public education by promoting voucher programs that siphon critical funding away from already-underresourced public schools.

The report notes that last year, the American Federation for Children (AFC)—an organization funded by former Trump Education Secretary Betsy DeVos—"ousted state lawmakers in Iowa and Arkansas who resisted proposals to subsidize private education in states and passed expansive private school vouchers."

Aided by millions of dollars in funding from DeVos and her husband, "AFC's political affiliates and allies spent $9 million to win 277 out of 368 races to remove at least 40 incumbent lawmakers," the report adds.

The DeVos family is hardly alone in using its wealth to undercut U.S. public education. The Bradley Foundation, which has been knee-deep in efforts to privatize education in Wisconsin and across the country, spent $7.5 million in 2022 "to fund 34 state affiliates of the State Policy Network to push conservative policy agendas, including privatizing education, and $8.3 million to building a youth movement to 'win the American Culture War.'"

"The Koch-sponsored group, American Encore, has funneled substantial amounts into state governor races and ballot initiatives around the country, including more than $1.4 million to elect Arizona's former governor Doug Ducey in 2014 (who led the efforts to create the nation's first universal private school voucher)," the report adds.

"For too long, there's been a coordinated effort to sabotage our public schools and privatize our education system. Unacceptable."

The analysis also names billionaires Jess Yass of Susquehanna International Group, Richard Uihlein of Uline, and Bernard Marcus of Home Depot, all of whom have recently donated to the School Freedom Fund—a PAC that supports voucher programs and shuttering the U.S. Education Department.

School voucher programs disproportionately benefit wealthy families, analyses have shown, while undercutting the goal of serving all students within a community.

"Over the past decade, there has been a coordinated effort on the part of right-wing billionaires to undermine, dismantle, and sabotage our nation's public schools and to privatize our education system," Sanders (I-Vt.), chairman of the Senate Health, Education, Labor, and Pensions (HELP) Committee, said in a statement. " That is absolutely unacceptable."

"We can no longer tolerate billionaires and multinational corporations receiving massive tax breaks and subsidies while children in America are forced to go to understaffed, underresourced, and underfunded public schools," Sanders continued. "On this 70th anniversary year of Brown v. Board of Education, let us recommit to creating an education system that works for all of our people, not just the wealthy few."

The new report, authored by the Senate HELP Committee's majority staff, comes days after Sanders presided over a hearing at which a pair of public school teachers decried the low educator pay and lack of resources plaguing schools across the U.S. and threatening the foundations of the country's public education system.

The committee's report shows that while most states have chronically underfunded their public schools, spending on voucher programs that subsidize private schools with taxpayer dollars has surged across the country. Between 2008 and 2019, according to a recent analysis cited in the report, Florida ramped up spending on voucher programs by 313% while "decreasing per-pupil funding of public schooling by 12%."

"The expansion of private school voucher programs forces very real tradeoffs. Money spent on private school vouchers could instead be used to hire teachers, raise wages, hire school counselors, and invest in high-quality academics for students," reads the new report, which estimates that "Arizona could hire 15,730 more public K-12 teachers with the money it is instead spending on private school vouchers."

The report calls on Congress to help reverse the trend of billionaire-backed school privatization by investing more in public education—including early childhood education and community schools—and by passing Sanders' legislation to set the pay floor for U.S. public school teachers at $60,000 a year.

The report also recommends passage of the College for All Act, a Sanders-led bill that would make public colleges and universities tuition-free for students from households making less than $250,000 a year.

"As the richest country in history, the United States should have the best education system in the world," Sanders' report reads. "Our public education system is not perfect—it is underfunded and racially and socioeconomically segregated. Our educators are not respected or paid nearly what they deserve."

"Massive tax breaks to the wealthiest people and largest corporations are being prioritized over opportunities to progressively raise revenue to support social services and public education," the report continues. "Instead of siphoning money and increasing tax breaks to subsidize private education, we have a responsibility to ensure all students have access to quality K-12 education. This requires adequate and equitable funding and addressing structural challenges in our public schools."

[evermourning]

𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 - kim seungmin

pairing: kim seungmin x reader, lovertober entry v

genre: non!idol au, will they/won't they, enemies to lovers, camp counselors!seungmin and reader

wc: 5.6k

warnings: ends kinda suggestive, making out, language, mentions wooyoung from ateez, yunjin from le sserafim, mina from twice, reader has an ego in the beginning, seungmin and reader were academic rivals in high school

a/n: pretend its still summer

from the moment you met him in the 10th grade, you absolutely and instantly disliked kim seungmin. with every bone, fiber, and cell in your body.

you had grown up with these people around you, watched as their faces slowly matured into the versions of themselves you saw them as now. however, you couldn't help but pity them.

compared to you, they were essentially idiots.

you were the top of your class, year after year after year. this was probably the big thing that set you apart from them. you spent your days studying, as opposed to partying. you jugged student council, clubs, and your grades so that you could graduate and lead a better life.

this journey was set back the day you met seungmin, though.

you could remember what he looked like as if it was only yesterday that you two locked eyes for the first time. fluffy brown hair and glasses, and braces adorning his pearly white teeth. he looked like an angel. a sweet, quiet kid that all the teachers adored.

but he was something much, much, much more sinister.

"yn, this is seungmin. he's new, so would you mind showing him around?" your teacher asked, and you graciously accepted. he was quiet as you aided him in his tour, making small comments here and there and asking questions if necessary. he became more acquainted with the people around you in the blink of an eye.

but you could feel something off about him. you just couldn't tell what.

he'd been sat down next to you in your math class, and instantly shot up in rank after tests to the spot right behind you. he was naturally gifted, getting almost perfect grades without lifting a finger.

it wasn't just math. it was every single subject. one after the other, they fell to his whim like measly pieces of chess.

he played it off with a simple "oh, i guess i studied this topic a bit extra" but in no time, he was hot on your trail for the top spot.

and you liked the thrill. you knew at the end of the day, you'd place first and everything would be normal, and this kid would learn that you were not to be messed with. you had to admit, as much as you shit talked him to your friends and made tons of claims that you probably couldn't back up, his banter was enjoyable.

until it wasn't.

your 11th grade year, seungmin became mean.

something happened over the summer. he'd grown taller, although he bore the same features, there was something so peculiar about him. he was lean and toned under his uniform, and became the star pitcher of the school's baseball team. immediately he was thrust into the spotlight you'd worked so hard to achieve. you were so annoyed. how was it easy for people to just like him? you made good grades, you tried to be courteous and respectful, and he was over there being crowned king of the school for fucking breathing.

he'd make offhanded comments about you, too, to your face and behind your back. the kinds where you'd just have to awkwardly laugh it off to soothe the aching pain inside your chest and the tears threatening to fall in big, ugly glops.

but you shook it off. you knew that it would only lead to worse events if you let him get in your head all the time. you tried to still be kind to him, but eventually, you gave up. if he was nothing short of an absolute dick to you, then there was no need to waste your energy interacting with him.

your interactions with him after that were minimal. passing glances in hallways, partner project where you simply split it up and didn't communicate at all, short questions in class. you weren't really out for him or anything.

until the end of 11th grade.

it was the time where final rankings for grades were announced. you were sitting at your desk, hardly bothered to check them. you knew you'd be first. you had been so confident, you just went back to work. however, something was off. usually, there would be cheers and groans, but all that you could hear were hushed whispers echoing through the classroom. when you looked up, lazily twirling a pencil between your fingers, you noticed something odd.

they were staring at you.

something wasn't right. these were people you'd known since grade school. they were used to you taking the top spot, right? right? you had to go find out what was wrong.

as you got up to look at the list, the crowd parted. the students looked on nervously as you marched up to the bulletin board where the fated list awaited, a thumbtack keeping it in place. you used your finger to slide up and down the list until you found your name.

next to it was your rank.

2.

you had fucking placed second. for the first time since...ever. you scanned the list desperately again, looking for some sign that it was rigged or faux. but it was the genuine article. you slid your finger up to see the name of the person who had stolen the position right out from under your nose, and you had to bite back a scream of pure rage when you saw it.

Kim Seungmin

that son of a bitch. he finally beat you.

and as you turned, there he stood leaning against the doorframe of the classroom, that smug smile prominent on his face. did he have a death wish or something? you did not like this at all.

later that day, as you were leaving, somebody stopped you, their hand grabbing you by the sleeve of your uniform. it was seungmin. you shook him off, shaking your head as you walked towards the gate.

"what's wrong? cat got your tongue?" he asked you tauntingly. you rolled your eyes with a huff, opening your mouth to shoot back with some sly remark, but he kept talking. "did you know i beat you by a tenth of a point? it's so fucking unreal. one tenth."

this comment sent you over the edge.

"you think you're so fucking funny, don't you? relishing in my pain, acting like i'll joke around with you as if we're friends. well guess what: you don't mean shit to me, kim seungmin." seungmin's eyes widened slightly, but his eyes settled into a hateful glare.

"so be it. just to let you know, yn, you fucking suck. give yourself a high five, you fake bitch."

and just like that, your eternal rivalry with kim seungmin began.

thankfully, your rivalry was cut short when you went to different colleges. however, you knew all about what he was doing. somewhere along the line, his friends became your friends. he was in law school now, studying to become a persecutor. you hated to admit it, but you were honestly impressed. however, you couldn't complain, as you'd received a full scholarship to an accomplished university. you lived in the city during your term, enjoying its lively bustle and bright lights. you'd always enjoyed the summer better, though.

in the summers, you'd drive two hours up to the mountains to work as a camp counselor for a childrens' summer camp, named camp aspen. it was a lovely little place, tucked away near a small town, surrounded by acres and acres of wilderness. it was so serene, the crisp air feeling amazing in your lungs.

this was where you were now. your third summer as a counselor was about to begin. you parked your car on a beaten road near the cabins, walking into a lodge to say hello to the director. the rest of the counselors were sitting in the office, and when they saw you, they excitedly enveloped you in a warm group hug.

there were six counselors at camp aspen, each accommodating one of the three cabins, one for each age range. two counselors would stay in each cabin. the place was going to be renovated soon, but thankfully, the cabins had two large, separate rooms.

it would be the same as always, with your counselor friends. wooyoung and mina stayed with the oldest kids, you and soobin stayed with the preteens, and jisung and yunjin kept an eye on the littlest ones. this is how it always was.

until you only counted four of your friends.

"where's soobin?" you asked, looking around. wooyoung took your hands in his and sighed.

"don't freak out, but..." he sighed, seeming to brace himself for your possible outrage. "soobin is studying abroad this summer, so we had to find a replacement who will be staying with you."

you wanted to scream and also kinda smack wooyoung too. but, you didn't want to lose your job, so you decided to flash a smile through gritted teeth.

"it's okay, woo. why didn't you tell me?"

"well, we just learned today, too. it happened so suddenly, i guess soobin forgot to mention it to the director until the last minute. while you were driving up, it was so scary. mina and i were fucking scrambling to find a replacement. thankfully, she showcased her amazing problem-solving skills to find us a replacement. her friend's friend's...friend, i think. it's weird." mina blushed at his words of praise. "but anyways, he'll be here later, so go get your stuff all unpacked."

you sighed, jisung and yunjin giving you reassuring smiles before going back to their intense game of gamepigeon 8-ball. as you departed, you stole one last glance at your friends. this was going to be the best summer ever.

when you got to the cabin, you immediately began laying the sheets and blankets on your temporary bed, preparing your place of rest for the weeks to come. you'd strung little fairy lights along the bedposts and finished off with comfortable pillows. you loved making this bed your own year after year.

you sat down upon it, laying back and sighing as your head it your pillow. you had time for a quick nap, right? you set an alarm and drifted off. you wondered who your partner would be. would he be kind? would he be rude? he'd be kind probably, if he was somehow connected to mina, a total sweetheart. the older kids loved her. she'd sit with the girls in a semi-circle around her as they listened to her tell stories, interest gleaming in their eyes.

you just hoped he wasn't a total dick.

after your alarm went off, waking you up, you blinked and saw jisung dead asleep at the bottom of your bed, curled up.

"what the hell are you doing?" you asked, laughing. he laughed sheepishly.

"sorry, your bed is comfortable...and i was supposed to be telling you the new guy just got here but i said i'd rest my eyes for a second and now here we are."

you chuckled, getting out of your bed and slipping into the bathroom so you could check how you looked. once you deemed yourself presentable, you walked with jisung out to the parking lot, catching up about how life was. he was always very fun to talk to. jisung had the natural aura of a storyteller, of someone fun. he radiated warmth and kindness, probably why he was such a role model to the little kids.

when you made it to the makeshift parking lot (in reality it was only a wide rectangle of gravel you parked your cars near) there was a new car there, much nicer than the rest. it was sleek and black, although you had no idea why someone would be driving such an expensive-looking car in the mountains. from your current location, you could see awfully well that wooyoung was chatting amicably with the mystery guy as he pulled his suitcase from the trunk. and then, wooyoung turned and called out to you two so you could come down and meet him.

with jisung by your side, you nervously walked over to the car. a head popped out from where the trunk was.

"by the way, wooyoung, where am i stay-" the boy stopped abruptly when he saw you. "-ing."

your blood ran cold.

it was kim seungmin.

of course it fucking was, because without even trying he'd made it his life's mission to completely ruin yours. all your high school memories came flooding back, but something else was there, curdling horrifically in the pits of your stomach.

his hair was a lighter shade of brown now, with streaks of blonde in his bangs. his braces were gone, and his face no longer was cute and round. he was jawdroppingly beautiful. but this was the person you'd wished to avoid ever since that day in the eleventh grade.

wooyoung, that poor boy, grinned. "you'll be staying and working with one of my favorite counselors. seungmin, meet yn. yn, meet seungmin."

"i know who they are." seungmin said quietly. "and they know me. we went to the same high school." wooyoung lit up at this information.

"perfect! that makes things easier. yn, please show seungmin to your cabin."

as you walked alongside him, carrying a few of his things, the tension was so thick you couldn’t cut it with a knife. the heavy silence hung in the air, until seungmin awkwardly spoke up.

“i’m glad i know someone here. it’d be so awkward if i was rooming with a stranger.” he said, a little laugh escaping his lips.

“did you know i was going to be here?” you asked rather accusingly, and he shook his head, readjusting his hold on the suitcase.

“nope. mina, she’s the one who hired me, has a friend, sana, who’s really close with one of my best friends. do you remember him from high school? chan?”

yes, you did. chan was probably one of the most popular guys at your school. he’d been the captain of the varsity football team, the homecoming king three years in a row, and was notorious for being the reason many girls dumped their boyfriends. he wasn’t known as “mr. steal-your-girl” for just any reason.

him and seungmin became good friends seungmin's sophomore year, while chan was a senior and they remained close since then.

"i remember him." you responded, not wanting to hold a conversation with him.

"yeah, well sana reached out to chan, who reached out to me. and i needed some extra money, so here we are."

he was really starting to bug you. how could he just talk to you like he wasn't so terrible to you in high school?

"is this how it's going to be all summer, then?" you said to yourself, but he heard it.

"pardon?"

"you, acting like nothing happened between us when we were younger? like your words didn't burn my skin and mine didn't cut deep into yours? i'm not an actor, seungmin. i can't pretend that the things you said to me didn't happen. i can't just will them out of my head."

he scoffed, his true personality shining through. you knew it was down there. he could only hide it for so long. that son of a bitch.

"you're so overdramatic, yn. name one fucking thing i said about you that was so terrible it ruined your vision of me for the rest of your life." he meant it sarcastically, but he didn't realize you had an answer.

"in our junior year, you were talking to chan, and you called me a stuck-up, airheaded bitch who would cared too much about school. you said...you said i was going to push everyone away and then nobody would care enough to weep when i died. not even my own parents." recognition was prominent in his brown eyes as he remembered his own words.

"...i didn't think you knew about that."

you were on the verge of slapping him.

"how could i not? you texted it to chan. do you know how easy it is for a text message to be screenshotted and sent? chan sent it to minnie, who sent it to me. do you know what it's like to learn someone says shit like that about you? i sobbed for three hours straight." you dropped his stuff down right in front of him. "from now on, only talk to me if you need something." you stormed off, fighting the tears that threatened to fall.

so much for camp being your safe space.

the first week of camp was a little rocky. seungmin stayed true to your ask and only spoke to you if he needed help with something, but other than that, it was like you didn't exist. the kids obviously noticed it too. regardless of the fact that the week went well, at the end of the day, wooyoung still sat you and seungmin down and decided to have a chat with you.

"what is going on with you two? i thought you said you knew each other. i thought you'd have it in the bag, but you're singlehandedly ruining the experience for our campers, and that is not the type of energy we need counselors to have."

"if i may, woo," you said, and he raised an eyebrow. "we never specified if our relationship was good or bad, you just went with us knowing each other."

"and you didn't tell me this to correct me?" wooyoung sighed. "i'm disappointed, yn. you've been here three years. you should've contacted me instantly." you nodded at his words, a little embarrassed that your somewhat childish rivalry led you to not be rash when decision-making.

"i am not the oldest at this camp, but i have the most experience. this is my fifth year as a counselor, and i am sitting here now with authority you two don't have. i'm going to have to ask you to work this out. we are so short on staff that we can't afford for either of you to leave camp. understand?" seungmin gave his confirmation and you shot wooyoung a look (which he returned quickly) before agreeing.

this was how you were sitting cross-legged on your bed across from seungmin. he stared at you, challenging you to speak first. when you didn't, shooting him a nasty glare, he took the initiative.

"we're gonna listen to wooyoung's request and work things out. and if we can't...we'll find a plan b. deal?" you crossed your arms and slightly nodded. "let's see...let's do it like this: you're going to tell me why you don't like me. be raw and honest, and then i'll tell you why i don't like you. if there's any misunderstandings, that's what we'll know."

you sighed, knowing this was rational, and began.

"i'll be honest, yeah. when we were in 10th grade, you felt off to me, but i didn't really focus on that because i liked the adrenaline rush i got from comparing grades with you and our banter. but then in 11th grade...you were so terrible to me. all the things you were saying...and then you beat me. i know it was only by one rank but i lost it. i felt like my grades were the only part of my identity and without them...i was nothing. so that's why i haven't forgiven you, because you said all this shit and i'm still hung up over that." you admitted, staring at your feet.

“even if you didn’t have your grades, it wouldn’t have mattered. you were popular. everyone was always falling over themself to be friends with you.” seungmin pointed out, and you shook your head.

“i was not even close to popular, seungmin. people just used me for homework answers and i was too nice to say no.”

“no, no. that’s not possible. everybody was always talking about you, how kind and funny you were…and that’s why i didn’t like you.” his voice broke. “you had everything i wanted. i came to that school with absolutely nothing. you were at the hub of everything, there were always people around you, and i hated it. i hated how you didn’t have to wear a mask to get what you wanted. i hated how you were like some revered god of intelligence. i hated it so much. and then…the final straw was when i was having a fight with my mother in october of our junior year, because she didn’t like that i had changed so much because i’d grown popular and was spending my time with ‘bad influences’. and do you know what she said to me?”

“no, i don’t.” you were frankly a little embarrassed that this was a whole misunderstanding, but you listened anyways.

“she said she wished i was more like you. i didn’t even know how she knew you. and i wished nothing but the worst upon you after that. and now i learn i did all that on a whim?”

”no, you didn’t. you did it because you were upset, and you didn’t know any other way than to lash out. i’m sorry for how i treated you, and if you’re sorry, then let’s go tell wooyoung we worked it out.” you caught his hands in yours, and he flinched. you kept his palms between your hands as if you were keeping a canary in a cage, and when you let go, he felt free.

“i’m sorry for saying all that shit about you. if i had known you weren’t like that, i wouldn’t have done it. you don’t have to forgive me for that one.” he replied quietly.

“yeah, that one’s going to take a little time.” you laughed awkwardly.

for the first time, seungmin realized what people saw in you. how your eyes crinkled when you laughed, your smile absolutely gorgeous. even if it wasn’t even a normal laugh (you were quite literally awkward as shit), he began to feel something churning in the pit of his stomach. what was it?

thankfully he had time to figure it out before you left him behind.

after working things out with seungmin, you couldn't help but admit that your camp experience got better. he was honestly a perfect choice as counselor. the kids loved him, and he was really sweet and considerate towards them in return. it was noticeable that in the years since you last saw him, seungmin had unmistakably matured into a fine young man. you were glad his dick phase was over.

but something was different about him, now. since he didn't treat you even remotely terrible anymore, you began to enjoy his presence. kim seungmin was hilarious, his smile a ray of sunshine that forced the clouds away. you couldn't help but feel giddy when you saw it, but you reminded yourself constantly that this was your sworn high school enemy.

but would it really be so bad?

one sunny wednesday, you and seungmin took the kids out to play some sports. they voted on a simple game of baseball, which you knew seungmin would gladly agree too. but when they started chanting your name, pleading with you to join the game although you had zero baseball experience, you knew you were doomed.

"alright, yn, you be pitcher." you stared at the little boy who deemed your position incredulously.

"honey, i can't throw at all." you replied, and the kids started laughing. seungmin walked over to you on the makeshift diamond, gifting his teammate a plastic bat.

"i'll help yn learn to throw, okay?" he said, and the kids whined.

"that's cheating!" seungmin chuckled at their complaining.

"okay, so first you're going to take the ball and hold it like this." seungmin explained, his fingers gently sweeping over yours to move them to the right place. his touch was soft and sweet, like a juicy watermelon slice on a warm summer's day. once he got your fingers to a good position, he continued his lesson. "good, now place your feet shoulder-width apart. and uhh..hold on."

you felt your face burning as seungmin's hands slid up and down your body, moving certain parts of you into place. you were like putty in his hands, your heart fluttering when his long fingers grazed your waist. you tilted your head slight to see his face right in between your head and your arm, staring right back at you.

this wasn't the first time you had insane tension with kim seungmin. but it was the first time the energy was like...this. your lips were so close to his. you could feel his breath on your exposed skin and it felt good. if it was in a different setting, maybe...

you stepped back, flashing a dazzling smile to try and ease the uncomfortable silence. thankfully, your campers brought the focus back to them before things got too weird.

the entire game, your mind was somewhere else.

he wanted to kiss you. you'd seen his eyes, staring at your lips like they'd vanish if he blinked. you'd seen the way seungmin looked almost out of breath, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed ruby red.

you couldn't be imagining it. there was no way.

after everything was cleaned up, you snuck away to wooyoung's cabin, where he sat lazily on his bed as a sixteen year-old girl told him about her situationship. he looked relieved as you pulled him aside.

"i'm glad you worked everything out with seungmin." he said, patting your back reassuringly. "i knew you had it in you. i really am the best, aren't i?"

you shook your head.

"not right now, woo. something happened earlier today that was really weird, and jisung didn't want to hear about it so now it's your turn." wooyoung's eyes lit up at the mention of your drama, and he shooed his camper away, eagerly patting the spot next to him.

"tell me all about it."

and so you did. you explained everything: from your original drama with seungmin in high school, to how you solved it, to what went down while he was teaching you to pitch. wooyoung's jaw was dropped.

"you two went through all that tension just for him to not even finish teaching you to pitch? that's so fucking embarrassing. you needed that lesson." wooyoung tsked, theatrically hanging his head low.

"hey! i'm not that bad at sports." you retaliated.

''yes, yes you are. do you remember last year when your 'star pitch' broke yunjin's car window? i don't think she forgot about that." you rolled your eyes with a huff, and he laughed loudly. "but that's not important, because this could be the romance you always read about in your poorly written books. maybe you're having your own enemies-to-lovers trope right now! you'll be with him tonight, correct?" you nodded.

"alright, then shoot your shot? trust me, nothing bad's going to happen if you don't overthink it." he squeezed your hand excitedly. "i believe in you. use condoms!"

later that night, the director was holding a movie night for the kids in the lodge, allowing counselors to get a much-needed break. when the sun dipped below the mountain range in hues of deep blues, you sat at the dock with seungmin, splitting a liter bottle of some soda you couldn't read the title of. the moon was at its fullest, glowing ethereally as it cast a bright light upon the water. you swung your feet slightly, the cool water lapping against your feet a lovely contrast to the summer air. fireflies light up like lanterns all around.

"it's so hot," you complained, swatting at an unwelcome bug as it tried to land on your skin. "ugh, i feel like i'm burning alive."

seungmin took a swig of the soda, simulanteously running a hand through his sweaty brown hair.

"let's go for a swim, then." he suggested. you looked at him like he was crazy.

"in...the lake?" he nodded vigorously.

"where else would we swim? this camp doesn't have a pool. c'mon, it'll be fun. there's nothing that can hurt you in there. no amoebas, no snakes, no nothing. i'll keep you safe." he curled his pinkie around yours in a joking promise.

you sighed as you lowered yourself into the water. it was cool on your skin, resulting in you slightly shivering from the contact. however, once you grew accustomed to the temperature, it was rather nice. there was one problem, though.

the water was pitch-black, and you were still in your clothes. so when you felt something slimy touch your ankle, you let out a screech and jumped higher than a kangaroo.

"easy there." seungmin's voice said into your ear, and you startled at the sound. "relax, it's just me. the only think that touched your foot was seaweed. you'll be okay. it really only grows in one area of the lake, so let's stay away from there. sounds good?"

his words of soft and gentle reassurance, paired with a gentle touch on your waist made you want to erupt into flames even in the water. as he guided you to the center of the lake, you had to start treading water. however, seungmin was completely fine.

it was quiet for a bit, peaceful and serene before you broke the silence with a groundbreaking question."

"hey seungmin...were you planning on kissing me earlier?" the boy in question was silent for a bit, thinking about his answer, before finally speaking again.

"yeah, i was. how could i not? we were so close, and you know i could never resist you, yn. aphrodite herself turns green with envy at the mere sight of you." you felt your heart rate speed up at his words. so you decided to take the initiative.

"i'll be honest, since we became close, i've noticed this tension between us that wasn't there before. you're so handsome, and you know it, and i know it and i want to make out with you so bad, but i've been having all these reservations because i can't get over what you said about me all those years ago."

seungmin spoke up instantly, rebutting your claim. "i can proudly say now that the lies i spewed about you were instantaneously false, the moment they left my lips. see, i said back then that no one would weep if you perished. but now, i would. i would sob until the soil beneath me has turned to mud and it stains my clothes and my hands. i would leave you flowers and gifts every single day. now that i know you, and i know how you truly are, i'd kill myself if i lost you."

the sound of your tears hitting the water's surface, aligning with the incessant chirping of the cicadas, turned the sounds around you into an exquisite and melodious symphony. you threw your arms around seungmin, holding him tight.

"i'll say it now, seungmin. i love you. i'm in love with you. it happened so quickly, i'm scared it's faux. but i want it to be real. i want and crave you with every bone, fiber, and cell in my aching body."

seungmin's strong arms wrapped around you, and he grinned mischieviously.

"well, i'm not to great with my words, but i want you really bad, too. i'd personally like to, uh, ravage you? and you said something about making out that i am quite personally very down for."

you laughed, a smile gracing your features. seungmin wanted to see that face every day for the rest of his life, he decided.

"god, you're such a dork." you giggled, and pulled him in for a kiss. it was warm, fiery as passionate as your lips crashed against each others' like waves crashing against a rocky barrier. the change in gravity from the water made it easy to hop up and wrap your legs around his waist. seungmin's hands drifted down to your ass to keep you in place, and you steadied yourself as your hands held his cheeks. god, you could feel his jawline from there. eventually, your tongues began to battle for dominance.

after ten minutes or so, you parted lips, a string of saliva still connecting you two. the moonlight reflected off of it as it snapped. seungmin watched in awe.

"that was so fucking hot...but um, what are we now?" you asked. seungmin laughed out loud, patting your soaked head.

"let's determine that later. right now...i lowkey want to fuck your brains out. think we can do that?" he teased.

"in a lake??" you shot back.

"there's a first time for everything." seungmin teased. once he was sure you gave your consent, his fingers went to the bottom of your sopping wet shirt, carefully lifting it over your head. "until then, i'll enjoy the view."

"and that's our cue to leave." wooyoung commented from his vantage point. yunjin stood beside him. he turned, grinning as he outstretched his hand. "pay up, buttercup. i bet that they'd get together before the end of the summer, and look at them! that twenty dollars is mine."

yunjin grumbled, pulling a crumpled twenty-dollar bill out of her back pocket and handing it to him.

"seriously though, those one-liners were horrific. the confession was cute though." yunjin laughed.

"oh, hell yeah. just for that, they're on bathroom cleaning duty. and i'm hoping and praying they remember what echoes are so we don't have to awkwardly explain what was going on to the little campers." wooyoung sighed. yunjin looked up at him.

"you are straight-up evil, jung wooyoung. have you seen those bathrooms?"

"exactly why they're on bathroom duty. i may be evil, but i am one hell of a matchmaker, aren't i?" he shot back, playfully nudging her shoulder.

"whatever you say."

taglist: @darkypooo , @hyunbae-35 , @kpopmenace143 , @stateofdelicategrace , @elizaschuyler18 , @lillithathecat , @imastraykidsfan , @nightimescapes , @mal-lunar-28

@evermourning, ©2023. all rights reserved.

[mermaidsirennikita]

So the Susan Elizabeth Phillips book I'm listening to is It Had to Be You (because the only Chicago Stars book I've read is Nobody's Baby But Mine and it's football season so TIME 2 GO)

And though there are for sure some choices made that VERY much signal this is a 1994 novel (one wording in like, the first chapter, made my eyebrows shoot STRAIGHT UP) (though I'll also say that this book is super about Gay Rights, like our heroine Phoebe surrounds herself with gay men and donated a fuckton of money to AIDs-related charities, and to be clear her 1990s football coach hero is also v down with the gays~, I am blindly going with it)

I will also say that whenever I read an SEP book, I'm struck by several things I find so difficult to find in current contemporary romcoms...

A) legit humor

B) ... thoughtful writing ....

C) the couple just. FUCKING AROUND.

Like, Phoebe has a lot of trauma and hangups (she's also 33, which I love! And I suspect that her hero, Dan, is probably in his late thirties/early forties) but a big part of this book is her learning to be comfortable with sex, which happens with Dan, even though Dan is in fact completely unaware that this is what is going on and just thought that her being like "Can you pretend I'm a virgin" the first time they boned was roleplaying

(Dan: WHEN WILL SOMEONE FUCK ME IN A NON-ROLEPLAYING CONTEXT???)

But like... they have sex... and he doesn't realize what a big deal it was for her so he just sorta skedaddles... and she's pissed about it so they sort of simmer in mutual "it'll never happen again" resentment... until they sorta buddy-buddy because he realizes he was being a dick (don't worry, this is SEP, he WILL be a dick again) and then she pisses him off so much by being like YOOHOO BOYS I THINK PICTURING THE OTHER TEAM NAKED WILL HELP YOU WIN THE FOOZEBALL GAME and then it WORKS, so naturally he then confronts her in the airplane bathroom directly after and she calls him on his shit and dresses him down, only to realize during turbulence-related body-slamming that her berating him made him FULLY aroused, which leads to a partial airplane BJ (her first BJ) (Dan, who does not know this is her first BJ, mentally: she is "sweetly awkward" about this) and an airplane fingerbang (complete) (this poor football team is just asleep a few feet away)

And now! They're just sorta sitting in snarky, not-dating, sometimes fucking around limbo... all while this man is fully like "I WILL BE ASKING THAT SWEET NURSERY SCHOOL TEACHER OUT BECAUSE I THINK SHE'LL BE A GREAT MOM TO MY NONEXISTENT KIDS.... TOMORROW........................... AFTER I FUCK PHOEBE AGAIN.................."

(Because mind you, when she was all "but you didn't come in this airplane bathroom" he was like "ohmigod her sweetly awkward unfinished BJ made me feel A Feeling, I've gotta put some distance between us by telling her that one day I'm going to just say 'Now' and regardless of where we are or what she's doing she needs to follow me to the closest broom closet and SPREAD'")

(to which Phoebe goes "oh actually that sounds amazing", so it did backfire)

There is no discussion of dating or their feelings! There is no rational discussion! They're just impetuously hooking up when they get horny! And sitting there snarking at the workplace (because MIND YOU, she OWNS THE FOOTBALL TEAM HE'S COACHING) while everyone on this football team probably considers whether or not this is becoming a hostile work environment! They're sort of semi-raising her teenage sister together at this point and there has been NO! DEFINING! THE RELATIONSHIP! NO! SENSE! ALL! FEELINGS! AND! FUCKING! AND! MESS!

Honestly??? It also just feels more like how a lot of relationships develop organically??? From situationships to "Oh wait, we're like... dating..." without a full-length discussion until it's already kinda happening?

Like, this is the vibe I want from a contemporary romance. Less rational robotic shit and more "local idiots stumble into love"

[alonetimelover]

...deserved to experience.

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

warnings: tlou 1 and 2 possible spoilers, angst, tlou standard gore (wounds not overly described), talk of child neglect, sexual themes (p in v), fluff, pain and some more pain

summary: Joel, YN and Ellie settle down in Jackson. It's hard to get used to but they manage - Ellie has new friends, YN works at school. Over the years they grow even closer, there is a small addition to their family and it all is perfect. Past is acknowledged and appreciated- Joel has never been happier. Or is it just a movie?

world count: ~4,3k

a/n: it was written as a part 2 to this > Fade To Black < but can be read as a stand alone. hope you'll enjoy reading it! xx

masterlist

“Joel... Y’all act like you’ve heard of us or somethin’.”

shot

—

Jackson was a blessing. YN still couldn’t believe that they - Joel, Ellie and her - managed to travel all across the country and found Tommy. It felt like a fever dream. They’d only lived there for a few months but the feeling of security let her guard down (at least for the town’s kids. She loved them).

When they first arrived - when Maria had found them in a cabin just mere three miles away from Jackson - it all felt strange and out of place. How in that fucked up world people were able to create a society? How were they able to trust so many people at once? She lived in a small town for years, sure, but then she trusted only two people - her dads, Bill and Frank, no one else. In Jackson they had a city council run by the locals, the functioning court with people that knew the law that once had been in the statute book. It was a commune, sure. It did connote with rather unfortunate times in history, but who was she to judge something that was working for a small town?

But people were wary of them - mostly of Joel - in the beginning. They kept their distance, didn’t talk to them if not necessary, didn’t cross paths on the streets. They were terrified, even though they did not know them. Apparently (Tommy said so later on) Joel’s hard look and possessive eyes were enough to keep people at bay. 

Ellie, surprisingly, accommodated quickly. She managed to have friends - Dina and Jesse who were a rather unusual couple (in the past three weeks they’d managed to break up four times). She didn’t tell them everything, she didn’t show them everything. But she did trust them in some aspects. YN loved that for her, telling Joel how needed those interactions were for Ellie. ‘She’s a teenager, Joel. She needs to be around her peers. That’s the best way for her to grow up,’ she was explaining to him, one cold evening, observing Ellie playing football with her new-found friends. 

YN found needed space in Jackson after two months of getting used to the hot water, running showers and hot food, but, most importantly, all the people surrounding her. Maria assigned YN to help teachers in school. She learnt from Tommy that YN had been a teacher in the QZ, so it was the most suited role for her in their community. Besides that the town’s hospital needed a nurse ready to teach new people the first AID but also the basics of health care that could be ready to provide for their residents. She felt needed. It was the best feeling. 

Joel. Joel had the least pleasant time to settle into living normally. For years, he’d been like a nomad. Showering only when he’d find clear water - not so often. Eating 20-year-old Chef Boyardee or sleeping on a dirt floor. Now? He had a house, a bedroom with a big bed, comfy blankets and the mattress that made his back hurt less. He had a kitchen where he could prepare dinner for his whole family. He had running water. But there also were people around him that he didn’t know. No background information, no things to threaten them with if needed, nothing. And it made his skin crawl. 

“You cannot follow a person just because you think they looked “wrongly” at me, Joel. This is a civilised town, we need to get used to it. People are curious, because we’re new. We’re something different and it excites but also terrifies them,” YN said to Joel, scolding him really for his behaviour. 

“It wasn't that he looked wrongly at ya. It was a dirty look. He wanted something.” Joel defended himself. 

“So that’s why you followed him. What were you going to do if I didn’t show up?”

Joel sat in silence. 

“You’d beat him up, wouldn’t ya?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t but your clenched fists and scrunched eyebrows said everything,” she scoffed, massaging her temples. “Look -” she crouched in front of him, placing her hands on his knees. “I know you’re scared but we are safe here. Tommy promised you, promised me. He and Maria were kind enough to let us be here without actually benefiting the town for a month. I think we should show our gratitude in ways other than beating people's asses for looking badly at us. Hmm?”

Joel smiled, “how are you so good at making me cave in immediately?” 

Joel’s palm rested on YN’s cheek, her head instantly leaned towards it. She closed her eyes, mimicking Joel’s smile.

“You love me.”

“That I do.”

—

“You stupid old man. You don’t get to rush this.”

crack

—

“You’re asking me out?”

“If you ask one more time, I’m taking it back.”

“No, no, no!” She quickly protested. “I’m going. I’m sure as hell going.”

“Thank God, I really didn’t want to take it back, ya know?” 

Joel and YN were sitting on the couch, reading their separate books when Joel prompted a question of “what would you say of going out to the pub tonight?” which absolutely took her aback. A date? Joel Miller going on a date? The same day he killed five infected and - once again - saved her life, he was shyly asking her out. The man that Joel Miller was could be studied in psychology classes, a truly interesting case. Ideal to fail your students on characteristics of a duality. 

“What made you ask?” She wasn’t interested in a book anymore. She needed answers. 

“When we were heading back from patrol, I realised I’ve never taken you out. Wanted to change that.” Joel simply shrugged, coming back to his novel. 

“Don’t read now, please,” she whispered, closing his book. Now, she was sitting on her heels just centimetres away from Joel. “Look at me, please?”

He obeyed without batting an eye, locking his brown eyes with hers. 

“Thank you.”

“There is nothin’ to thank me for, darling. Not just yet, at least.” He chuckled, stroking her cheek. “After the date you can thank me.”

“I want now, please?”

Another thing that was different in Jackson was privacy. As much as they were watched by people on the streets, in the house that Tommy assigned them to, they were alone. Ellie chose the bedroom far away from theirs, saying ‘I don’t need to hear this old man grunting while turning in bed’ but her look said something very different. Something that Joel and YN were finally able to enjoy. Each other. 

Sex was something that became very important to them along their relationship. Over the years they both had shied away from their feelings, they had become distant, shielding their emotions. Words stopped holding much importance, considering how they’d betrayed them in the past. They felt overrated, because how could you know if the person in front of you was actually telling the truth? 

Joel lied once, jeopardised his feelings, hurting YN in the process. YN once suffered from lack of emotions, understanding and communication. So, in the beginning of their renewed relationship they both didn’t believe one another. Rightfully so. And somehow in their most vulnerable state, while being so close to each other, becoming one, the truth spilled over them, covering their sweaty bodies, shielding them from lies. Lies that were in the back of their heads ready to fly around from one’s mouth to another's ear. 

“I love you,” Joel grunted in YN’s ear, his climax creeping on him for minutes. “I love you, baby. I - fuck - I love you so much.” 

“I know,” she moaned back in understatement, clasping his face in her hands. “I lo - ugh.”

“Shh, it’s okay.” He kissed her temple, keeping a steady rhythm of his hips. “I know, baby. I know.”

They kept at that unvarying pace, chasing their absolute pleasure. Joel’s back had been slightly scratched, YN’s thighs visibly bruised from Joel’s fingers digging in her flesh for hours. They finally felt at peace. No thoughts other than mutual appreciation and yearning for each other overtaking them. Nothing but love and passion. 

“I love you. I’m so sorry,” Joel was repeating over and over, nearing his orgasm, avoiding YN’s eyes. Always apologising when most emotionally defenceless for what he had done in the past.

“It’s okay. I forgave you, baby. It’s okay.” She tried to look into his eyes. “Look at me, please. Joel, please,” she moaned the last word. 

How could he not complain after hearing her begging so sweetly? 

“I love you.”

“Fuck, I love you, baby. I lo -” 

The pleasure overwhelmed them, tipping them over the edge of it. Sudden warmth cuddled them up. Joel fell on top of YN, groaning softly, panting. She hugged him as hard as the remaining strength let her. 

“It’s okay,” she groaned. “We’re okay, Joel.”

“I know.”

—

“You’re gonna fucking die!”

—

Teaching was her calling. She understood that in Jackson. Not nursing or shooting on patrols. Teaching. Seeing the marvel on those little faces whenever they learnt something new, exciting was one of the best views YN could’ve ever imagined. Especially when that wonder covered her favourite student’s face (yes, she had a favourite) - Mia. 

“So, you’re saying that that - that many, many years ago those big lizards were walking here?” 

“Dinosaurs, yes. But what is even crazier,” YN exaggerated the last word, earning immediate attention from Mia. Her big eyes, getting even larger, lightning up like stars in the night sky. “Birds are their closest descendants.”

“No way!” She screamed in shock. “So - so Bunny is like a dinosaur?” 

Bunny was Mia’s favourite chicken from the farm. 

“Well, from what I’ve read about it, there is something called a phylogenetic tree. And birds are actually directly connected to dinosaurs based on the archeological reports, isn’t it exciting?”

“Yeah, but - but what is ar- archeo- that a word? What is it?” Mia stumbled over her words. 

“Archeology is the study of what was in the past. Archeologists are people that study it. They’re finding different things from years ago - from books to skeletons of animals and humans from thousands of years before us - and investigate. Do you understand?” 

Mia with eyes ready to pop off her head from amazement replied, “yes. It’s super fun!” She laughed. 

“Yes, it is! Do you want me to try and find you some books about archeology?”

“Yes, please. But -” she stopped, saddening abruptly. “I still learn how to read. Miss Woodens says I am falling behind my class.”

“It’s okay. I will help with it, yeah? We’ll read it after Wednesday’s and Friday’s classes, alright?” YN smiled at her.

Mia nodded her head happily, throwing her small arms around the older woman, hugging her tightly.

“Oh! Is it a huggin’ day?”

“Yes.”

Mia didn’t like hugging people. So after one incident when YN stupidly went in for a hug, earning a slap to her arm, they both established boundaries. Mia was the boss. In the beginning of each day she would say if it was a “huggin’ day” or not. Today was supposed to be a “high-five day” but somehow dinosaurs made Mia feel the need to hug her favourite teacher. 

“I’ll see you on Monday, okay? Try to practise your reading and spelling with Miss Brown back at home. I’ll tell her what stories you like.” YN brushed Mia’s hair away from her face. 

“She is not pat- patient with me. She says she has better things to do.”

The innocence and not full understatement of the situation on the little girl’s face, made YN’s skin burn with anger. How could a grown-up woman say something like this to a child that was struggling?

“Okay. Well,  I’ll talk to Miss Brown and Mr Kowalski and ask them if you could spend a weekend with me and Joel. Would you like that?”

“Yes! Yes, please. I - I drawed a picture for Joel today. Can I give it to him?”

Before YN could respond, the all too familiar voice from behind her spoken, “Joel would love to see that picture.”

“Joel!” Mia screamed and got up from the floor, running towards the older man, hugging him immediately. 

“A huggin’ day, huh?” Joel asked YN to which she nodded her head with a smile. 

Later that day, after YN had a rather unpleasant talk with Miss Brown - the orphanage director - complaining about her attitude towards little Mia, she was reading to Mia about dinosaurs. During the talk Miss Brown disowned any claims, calling the child a liar. YN knew she was going to have a talk with Maria about doing Miss Brown out of directing the orphanage. She wasn’t suited for the role of working with children. 

Mia was staying in the guest bedroom that Joel transferred to a kid’s room. Absent-mindedly, he and YN both knew the other's feelings towards little Mia. They loved her like their own. And it was a problem and a blessing all at once. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart. Dream of all the dinos you want,” YN whispered to almost asleep Mia, caressing her shoulder. “See you in the morning.”

She closed the door behind her and moved downstairs to help Joel tidy up after their game night. 

“Ellie went to sleep already?”

“What? No. She’s out with Dina. Apparently, her and Jesse broke up for good this time,” Joel chuckled at the end. 

“You think so?”

“No. But let the kids figure it all out. Part of growing up, ain’t it?”

She just smiled at him, starting to help pick up all the counters sprawled on the floor. 

“When did you trade so much for games?” Joel asked, after putting the last thing in the trunk for toys. 

“Ehh, over the last few weeks. I crocheted a few pieces for kids around town and parents brought games to trade. Tried to say no but no one listened really. Didn’t know we would enjoy them so much.”

They both sat down on the couch, cuddling. 

“Ellie loved Boggle.”

“I think she loved beating you up in it.”

“Yeah,” he laughed softly. “That’s it. Ain’t no love for an old man.”

“She loves you. I know she hasn’t said that but she does. You’re like a father to her.”

“I’d love to be,” Joel said shyly after a few minutes of silence. 

The last three years they’d spent in Jackson he had time to think about it. He accepted the fact that he was capable of love and embraced it. He used that word regularly towards YN - letting her know he did love her with his full heart. And in the last few weeks he started accepting another thing - parenthood. He’d never forgotten Sarah, he never could. At the same time, he knew he needed to allow other people inside. Especially that girl that was gettin on his nerves for years, saved his life numerous times and kept him alive when the best way out was a bullet to the head. She was like a daughter to him. 

And that little girl, Mia. The walking sunshine that she was, breaking down all the walls that Joel had built for strangers. She did that in a matter of minutes. “I like Joel. He likes YN so he is a good man.” That was enough for his lips to go down in a pout. 

“I was thinking,” Joel started. “The orphanage isn’t as well kept as Maria claimed.”

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow. My heart broke when Mia said what Brown had been telling her. How insensitive of her. I thought I was going to smack her when she said ‘that’s how you bring up kids in a broken world’. My blood boiled. I don’t know why she was chosen to direct it if she’s such a horrible person.” YN shook her head in disappointment. 

“What would you say about adopting Mia?”

She must have misheard. 

“Come again?”

“Adoption. What do you think about it? About us adopting Mia?”

YN sat up straight, looking directly at Joel. At once, she pressed her lips to his, kissing him hard. He didn’t get a moment to respond, because YN was running to the foyer, putting on her boots in a hurry. 

“What- what are you doing?” Joel got up slowly, cursing his knees. 

“I need to see Maria. See what paperwork, if any, is needed to fill. If we even require to do such a thing. Maybe, maybe she has some guidance for it. Maybe I need to bribe Brown. I don’t know. I need to see Maria,” YN was spilling the words frantically, almost falling over. 

“Hey, stop. Breathe, baby. It’s 11 pm. Maria is probably asleep by now,” Joel reasoned with his sister-in-law. 

“I don’t care. I’ll bake her something or do something else. I need to know.”

“YN,” Joel pressed, catching her gently by the wrist. “We’ll go there first thing tomorrow, okay?”

She sighed, “do you really want to adopt Mia?”

“Yes.”

She kissed him hard, making him stumble backwards. Joel embraced her tightly, returning the kiss with passion. 

“Then go to sleep. I’ll be right back.” 

And just like that she was out of the door, running up the street and leaving Joel hot, bothered and speechless. 

—

“Get off me! Get the fuck off me!”

—

“Can you help Ellie prepare all the things, Mia? I think she’d appreciate your help,” Joel encouraged the young girl. 

“Yeah, sure. Ellie!” She screamed, already running up the stairs. “Do you want help?”

“She’s screaming all the time, I’m gonna lose hearing in my good ear, I swear to God.” He chuckled, shaking his head. 

“It won’t be that bad,” YN answered her husband, chopping up the tomatoes for the salad. 

It was 26th of September - Joel’s 60th birthday. Together with YN, Joel decided to host a little gathering, just for family. Tommy, Maria and their little baby boy - Mauricio - were supposed to be there any minute. It was refreshing, being able to host a party for your birthday. Joel had thought he’d never be able to do that ever again. After all it was just a day before Sarah’s death anniversary - she had died mere hours into 27th of September 2003. For years, he didn’t celebrate. A taboo day. But with time - with time spent with YN - he learnt to love the day of 26th. And then on 27th he would talk reminiscently of Sarah - never daring the possibility of losing memories of her.

So that's how he was holding a barbeque for his family. His full family. 

“Did you start the grill?” YN asked. 

“Yeah, it’s running for about twenty minutes. I should start soon with all the food you prepared, sweetheart.”

“Probably. Well, I didn’t do it alone.”

“Mhm.” Joel left whatever he was doing and walked closer to YN, embracing her from behind. “Mostly alone. I’m more of a disturbance than a help.” He kissed her exposed shoulder. 

“That’s true. But I wasn’t thinking of you. Girls helped. Should thank them.”

“I will, but later.” 

Joel was leaving small kisses all over the naked skin of YN’s shoulders and neck. YN tried to shrug him off, “Jesus, Joel. Can you keep it in your pants for a moment?”

“It’s my birthday!” He defended, pinching her waist. 

“Ah!” She screeched, swatting his hands away. Unsuccessfully. “You’ve already gotten what you wanted in the morning.”

“Not enough. I could go one more round,” he whispered, being aware of the possibility of two girls eavesdropping (learning that the hard way). 

“Oh, could you?” YN asked, putting down the knife and turning in Joel’s embrace, now facing him.

“Absolutely.” He pecked her lips sweetly. 

“Well, keep it up for the evening.” She winked at him and moved away towards the back patio, where the party was supposed to be. 

Joel shook his head in disbelief, hanging it low. He chuckled, loving the way YN knew him and still was able to shock him in some moments. That’s why he married her just two years after settling down in Jackson. He would have done that way quicker but respected her boundaries and communicated with her. He decided to do everything just right, just perfect so she would stay with him for the rest of their lives. He believed it was going to happen, and it was far in the future to end. 

Their wedding was small. Mia was already theirs, Ellie had just turned 16 and YN the big 50. Their whole family started to become whole again and the cherry on top was him and YN getting married. Tommy decided to officiate the wedding, simultaneously being Joel’s best man. Ellie was YN’s maid of honour, even decided to wear a dashing suit to be ‘more elegant and fuccking put togehter’ as she said. It was beautiful. YN wore a yellow dress she made by herself and Joel traded some of his self-made wooden figurines for a three-piece brown suit. Mia was a flower girl, laughing like crazy when all the petals ended up in her hair. 

Joel cried that day. 

“I can’t believe you’ve agreed to marry me,” he sobbed into YN’s shoulder during their first dance. 

“I can. You’re my guardian angel, my love. There’s no future without you,” she answered, rubbing comfortingly on his back. 

Now it was two years later and he loved his life. Of course his demons didn’t leave him, he still had nightmares. He still had moments of over the top possessiveness and jealousy. He still couldn’t trust people easily. But it was getting better. He had a wife to discuss it with, to cry to, to love. He had family. 

“YN! Did you see Joel?” He heard Ellie asking. 

“He’s still in the kitchen.”

And a minute later he was greeted with awfully quiet and disturbingly shy looking Ellie and Mia. 

“What’s up girls?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“We -” Ellie started slowly, “- we wanted to give you something. Right, Mia?”

The younger girl just nodded her head, looking down. 

“Okay. Whenever you’re both ready.”

Mia took a deep breath and loudly exhaled, arched her arms before her, handling Joel white piece of paper that was folded in half. 

“Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, you two.” Joel smiled. “Can I hug you?”

“After you see it?” Mia prompted. “If you still want to then, it is.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to hug two of my three favourite girls?” Joel asked rhetorically, opening the paper. “Thank you for this.” 

Mia and Ellie holded their hands together, squeezing them hard. After all the both of them went through, that situation was the most stressful. Whatever was going to happen could possibly destroy everything they’d built over the last few years. 

“Dear you,

You’ve successfully been alive for more than most people. Congratulations! Thank you, that for the last four (two! ~Mia) years you’ve protected us. Thank you for looking after us and making us feel safe. Thank you for being for us even though lots of times you didn’t know what to do with us. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for existing. Thank you for saving our lives. Thank you for giving us a family. 

Thank you for loving us. 

We love you, dad. 

Your daughters, Ellie and Mia”

The smile that was on Joel’s face slowly started to disappear over the lines of the card, making the girls even more on edge. We love you. Tears gathered in his eyes, blurring his view. Dad. The lonely, salty droplet fell down his cheek and landed on the paper. Your daughters. He took a shaky breath in, sniffing. Ellie and Mia.

“I’m sorry,” Ellie spoke up. “If we overstep, we are sorry.”

“No, no, no. Please don’t. Don’t apologise.” Joel quickly silenced her, folding the paper, carefully placing it on the counter. “Can I - can I hug you both, please?”

After looking at themselves, Ellie and Mia fell into Joel’s tight embrace. With each girl on a shoulder, he held them like there was no tomorrow. The world stopped for a moment. 

“I love you both, so much. My daughters.”

—

“You’re gonna fucking die!” 

Everything was blurry. Everything smelled like blood and dirt. Everything was spinning. Everything hurted. Everything was dark. 

“Let him go!”

Was that her? It couldn’t be. His crooked skull was playing one on him. She couldn’t have been here. There could be no way. She couldn’t have been that stupid. Please, don’t let it be her. But opening the eyes was too hard, it was too painful. 

“Let him go!”

It must have been her. He would’ve recognised her voice everywhere. He heard it happy and joyful. He heard it in pain and sad. He also heard it angry and disappointed. It must have been her. 

“Joel, get up.”

It was her. Why was she here? Was she hurt? He needed to help her. He needed to set things right. He needed to - he needed to show her he cared. There was nothing else he cared more for. He needed to help her. 

Why was opening the eyes so hard? Why was there so much resistance to do so? You need to see her. Help her. He needed to try harder. Just a little more. The room was dark, but a strange blue light was covering her face. The cold floor was embracing his whole body, but he couldn’t feel much of it. The throbbing headache put things in his mind. 

“Jole, fucking get up.”

She was desperate. And scared. Why was she scared? He couldn’t remember hearing her like that once. Not when he told her the truth about the fireflies, not when she told him about Riley. Not even when she learnt how much terror Joel went through to keep her alive. She’d never let him know when she was this scared. 

Breath in.

“Please stop!” 

She was crying. 

She never cried in front of him. 

“Please don’t do this -” she sobbed. “Joel, please get up! Nooo!”

Breath out.

Relief. 

Everything stopped hurting.

It was over. 

And he was glad that his mind played him the movie of everything he’d deeply dreamed of. The movie of a happy family that he’d never deserved to experience. 

[cursedthingsshallwrite]

spoilers for SMT V: Vengeance; Path of Vengeance Route and ending to the non-Vengeance routes.

A short reflection from the Protagonist's POV

The Nahobino had long forgotten his name. His true name, and not the one he deigned to push in at the bidding of his homeroom teacher.

Endless cycles. Of fighting, of winning. Of reaching to the top of the staircase and claiming the throne. Of fighting again, of winning again. Of taking in the Lord of Chaos as Lucifer's magatsuhi dispersed in a flicker of crimson light, and knowledge from the previous Lord Creator, reabsorbed within.

How funny, that the God of Law Abdiel and Dazai so desperately claimed to abide by was in fact, the very Nahobino they would sometimes try to kill when he dared reach for another hand.

The absorption of the knowledge Lucifer attained had unintended consequences. With Lucifer's destruction so-too did The Nahobino gain the awareness enough to see the length of string that was his world. A world created. A world destroyed. A world remade. A new game. A new beginning. Renewed. Reborn. New demons. New paths.

But always, always, him.

There were times where he absolutely hated them all. Hated Atsuta, in his straight-lined unwavering determination to see Tsukiyomi's vision through. Hated Dazai, for never straying from his black and white view of the world. Of being hungry to prove himself, hungrier for the power to defend his barely matured will. Hated Tao, for stringing him along this inane plan. Of choosing him, always choosing him to ascend and rise to godhood. Hated the Sargent Yakumo, for never letting himself admit how much Nuwa did for him.

He tried in one world, once. He had avoided the tunnel and went to the Dorms another way. He had been attacked by a daemon days later dragged into Da'at; Aogami coming to his aid as he always did.

He found out later after being brought back to Bethel that Atsuta and Dazai had been met with Yakumo in the real Tokyo. Atsuta succumbed to Nuwa's attacks. Miyazu took her brother's place, with her ever loyal Moon Prince obliging her will. He still won, but Director Koshimizu had been distant and lost. Unmoored by the loss of his Knowledge.

He wondered if Aogami would be the same if he were ever to die so early. It had rarely happened, and he always came back when he did. The engine of their world never let him die permanently, he imagined that perhaps that branch of their world withered and died. He had never seen a version where any other Nahobino rose to the top. He had asked Lucifer sometimes, at the end of some worlds. It was always the Nahobino of He and Aogami.

This new world, one of promised change, of chaos--one where not only does Isonokami Tao follow him around, but Hiromine Yoko as well--was refreshing in many ways. A new voice to debate, a new opinion to be heard. Dangerously chaotic to be sure, and more pessimistic than he's ever come to face, but different.

Then the Qadištu.

Then the betrayal.

And the Nahobino knew truly how treacherous the depths of his hatred could be.

Aogami had been a balm in every lifetime. A partner, a friend, a soul mate. One who never sought to use him to his needs but supported The Nahobino in every choice, every hesitation, every path. Aogami cared in ways no human had claimed. Was as protective if not more so than every other Demon at the Nahobino's command. To lose him and to lose Atsuta, to watch as Dazai bade Abdiel to run him through despite touting claims of friendship over something as inane as a difference of opinion--

The Nahobino was so close to having a world where everyone, just lived. Without his meddling, without his careful composition of melodies to bring together the grand performance of the world's recreation. For a brief moment there was a chance that he didn't have to go back to find another way.

But that wasn't the worst of it. The ache of loss and betrayal was familiar. It was an old wound that never healed no matter how many times he'd played the game over and over and over. But losing Aogami?

That, was the last straw.

He almost laughed himself hoarse when Tsukuyomi offered to merge with him in Aogami's place. A broken heart for another broken heart. Of course Tsukuyomi would offer--he loved Japan and her people far too much to stand at the sidelines, and of course it would be Him, always him that would stand to fight for the throne. Again.

Tsukuyomi was surprisingly subservient in their new form. Wrong and right all at the same time. Hair too short, blades too curved. It lacked that electric zing that thrumbled beneath the armor plating and instead there was a hum of cold beneath the glow. More of a deep violet hue rather than the familiar azures. He wondered if Tsukuyomi could feel it in their shared body. Somehow, though their souls touched but never too close to merge as they would have with their respective partners, He wondered if Tsukuyomi could feel the black storm of resolute hatred that pushed Him forward.

The others had said nothing, though Fionn had expressed concern for His lack of rest. Hunting. Fighting. If demons did not submit they died, this was not new, but the Nahobino had never gone out of his way to hunt every single one before. Especially when they were Angels.

Camael had been silent, quietly retreating into the space between spaces where Sophia provided his demons a place to be whilst he fought in Da'at. He said nothing when Beelzebub was summoned and carefully groomed to be the most vicious.

Pixie had not said anything on behalf of her partner, but the Demi-fiend seemed to understand his rage. Lightened his punches so that the Nahobino could take the final blow.

He brought Ramen over through the portal as thanks. Though the Nahobino was unequivocally the God of Law and the Demi-Fiend his opposite as the God of Chaos; He treasured the company. Soothing the gaping hole of Aogami's absence even if just a little.

He moved. He fought. He crushed underfoot.

He had already been through the Steps before. Had fought the trials and won.

And when Tiamat rose to face him? When Hiromine Yoko came to bring her promised vengeance against Him, he was going to rip Aogami from Tiamat's corpse.

[lisenberry]

WIP Wednesday...

Just a tease in case anyone was wondering if I was ever going to get to the smut in this fic...

The Mountain is You

Ch. 3 snippet:

MDNI/18+/NSFW

CW: Dom/Sub dynamics; fem! inspection; spanking.

You sat back on your heels with your hands folded in your lap as he walked in.  His bootsteps seemed to vibrate across the wooden floor beneath your pillow.  A steady gait, with all of the suspense of a drum roll.

As you faced the high-backed chair, you could only make out the top of him until he made his way closer into view.  He was tall enough when you were standing up.  But on the ground at his feet, he eclipsed everything else around him.  There were no windows, no ceiling.  Just his thighs giving way to his waist, his arms and shoulders. 

Your head tipped back as far as it could just to take him all in, and even then, you came up short of meeting his eyes.

“Already off to a good start, I see.  You look lovely, sweetheart.”  He appraised you in a way that was both agonizingly slow and methodically brief, as he took off his jacket and slowly rolled up his sleeves

“Thank you, sir,” you answered, to the spot on his chest where his flannel shirt opened in a V.  It earned you a quick bob of his head in approval. 

He was starting you off easy.  That much was clear.  Like a teacher on the first day of school.  Throwing you softball questions to gauge how much of the summer reading you’d done over break.  How you responded determined how far he’d go, and which side of him you’d get.

Could he see the goosebumps spreading across your skin at the mere sound of his voice?      

“Next time, I want you to look at me when you say it.”  He bent down only slightly, aiding your efforts just enough that you could obey. 

His clear eyes glinted patiently between his dark lashes.  Dark brows, dark beard.  They were like signal fires along an unknown path.  No choice but to give yourself up and follow.

“Yes, sir.”  A slight smile pulled at the corner of your lips as the first flutter of heat worked its way from your cheeks down to the echoing emptiness in the cradle of your hips.

“Good.  I like to begin with an inspection.  To assess your readiness, and to make sure your healed from the previous session.”

“I’m ready,” you quickly admitted when his bare hand grazed against the side of your cheek.  You turned into it, starved for even the slightest touch of his roughened palm.

“And I like to take my time exploring what’s mine,” he rumbled, firmly snagging a hold of your chin.  A gesture that simultaneously chastised you for speaking out of turn, and possessively staked his claim. 

You let out a surprised breath, and he took the opening as an invitation to slip his fingers inside your parted mouth.  Two at first, and you instinctively flattened your tongue and closed around their impressive girth. 

“That’s it.”  A short hum of approval followed, as your eyes slipped closed while you sucked them deeper.  “Don’t overexert yourself just yet.  There’s plenty of time to show me how much you can take.”

He let you savor him a bit before he pulled out with a wet pop of skin and spit, and you nearly feel forward at the loss.  You licked at the salty trail his skin left behind on your lips.  

“Turn around and bend over the stool.”  He pushed a plushily upholstered ottoman closer behind you.  It was the perfect height to kneel and bend against as your arms fell over the other side. 

“Open your legs wider, don’t be shy.”  He folded up the hem of your skirt and brazenly pawed at the skin of your ass in wide circles.  You felt it stretch and pull at your exposed holes, and you wondered if his skin alone was abrasive enough to leave scratches behind. 

In the way his voice had already left etchings on your mind.

“Christ, you’re soaked.  Have you been touching yourself?”  It was barely even a question, the inflection missing from his even tone.

“Yes.”  He pulled his hands away at your answer, leaving a chill in its absence, intentionally.  “Sir,” you corrected.

“Good girl.”  A harsh clap to your backside was your reward.  It smarted with a sharpness that took you by surprise.  He wasn’t taking it easy anymore.  “What have you been thinking about when you play with my sweet little cunt?”  His hand returned between your legs, and with it, a probing forefinger glided along the split of your folds.

How long had it been since you'd been touched like this? Ghost had only ever let you use toys on yourself. Those were the rules, for your safety and his. Where were the rules now?

This is what you wanted...

“This, sir.”  Another slap, and you felt your muscles melt into the ottoman and your legs part wider to brace for the next impact. 

But it didn’t come.   Instead, he pulled back and cleaned off his slick smeared fingers along the side of your thigh.

“This, sweetheart, was just a warm-up.”

[stackthedeck]

Hey, we've been mutuals for a while, and I think of you in a good light. I'm disappointed to see you post infographics that are clearly designed to persuade left leaning youth to not vote in the upcoming election. If you actually think Trump and Biden are equivalent, you've been badly mislead. Anything that convinces people their vote doesn't matter is dangerous and unethical to post.

Literally just google a list of things they did during their presidencies. Here's a list for each, from the same website: trump, biden. It's different. This doesn't even include the price cap on insulin Biden just mandated, since his list was made before that. He also reversed a policy, that trump put in place, permitting medical professionals to discriminate based on religious values (aka turn away gay and trans patients.)

If not that, look at who Trump appointed to the supreme court, and then look what happened to Roe v. Wade. The justices a conservative appoint are going to vote differently than the ones a liberal will appoint.

Like, I'm sorry if this is coming off as rude, but please think a little more critically and actually look at what they each have done and will continue to do. You are discouraging people from voting and you are responsible for the impact this has. You're spreading misinformation.

Frankly this does come off as rude. That post did not say don’t vote for Biden and it made incredibly valid criticism of Biden. Has the Biden administration put in place good policy? Yes of course. Are citizens right to also criticize that the administration hasn’t and isn’t doing enough? Also yes.

Listen I’m a political science student this doesn’t make me and expert by any means but I have done work in government so idk. I’m registered to vote in a red state I’ve voted third party for president in every election and I vote for candidates I agree with and know are effective in local and congressional elections. I’m not saying don’t vote. Even people saying don’t vote Biden aren’t saying don’t vote at all but encouraging voting at all the other levels

I don’t want trump to win but public pressure from key groups of voters such as Arab Americans of all ages (because framing this as a lazy ungrateful younger generational issue is incredibly ignorant) and yeah younger voters could encourage the Biden administration to actually change its policies especially about the ongoing genocide in Palestine. Biden does not get my vote or anyone’s vote because he’s not trump, that’s not democracy it is a hostage situation. Biden must be responsive to the people not just on election day and on the campaign trail but every day. I donated money to his campaign and grassroots organizations that empowered people to vote in 2020. I will not do so again until the Biden administration ceases all aid and weapons to Israel.

I don’t live in a swing state Biden doesn’t care about me. I’ve been harassed in the schools I’m employed at by teachers and parents alike because I’m visibly queer and because I live in a red state I have no legal recourse. Why doesn’t the Biden administration do anything to stop the hundreds of anti trans and anti queer bills in the states? Why don’t I have federal anti discrimination laws protecting me? My trans health care was denied under a blue president what difference does it make.

Vote blue no matter who is just as damaging to democratic values and thinking as make America great again. Either way the parties are complacent because they just have to be not the other guy instead of being responsive to the will of the people. We have to demand better.

Hopefully by 2024 I will be registered to vote in a swing state and Biden will have made the changes to earn my vote. But I know that I will be voting for state and local candidates and it will be coordinated with other truly civically engaged voters who want to see real change in their communities