#I can’t wait years for this fandom to pick up

[hmmm-shesucks]

I’m rereading icebreaker for the third time and I’m telling you Dorian Hidalgo is the love of my life. I can’t even explain how much I love him.

[fluentmoviequoter]

It's Not About You

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: When Tim overhears his fellow police officers and your other neighbors flirting with you, he gets jealous, and takes it out on you.

Warnings: jealous!Tim (he's hot), brief angst, fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.1k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Over the last few years of impromptu visits to the Mid-Wilshire LAPD station, you’ve gotten to know most of the front desk staff. They know you too, and you’re often wordlessly handed a visitor’s badge and wished good luck. You’ve heard the stories about the man you come to visit: how intense and grumpy he can be, but you’ve never seen that side of him for yourself.

Today, two people sit at the front desk, and you’ve never seen either before. Moving into one line, you wait until you reach the desk. You smile as you look at his name tag and are surprised to realize that you have heard his name.

“How can I help you today?” he asks, clearly displeased with his current position and forcing his smile.

“Officer Nolan, I am here to visit Officer Bradford,” you answer.

“Bradford,” Nolan repeats. “Tim Bradford?”

“That’s the one. I just need to drop something off and ask him a quick question.”

“Oh, sure,” Nolan replies. “Just fill this out for me and I’ll get you a badge.”

You nod, stepping to the side as you fill out the paperwork you haven’t seen since your first visit. Knowing that Nolan is new, though, and seeing just how busy the station is, you decide to do as he asks rather than argue with him.

“So, do you know Officer Bradford?” Nolan asks.

“I do. I’m his neighbor,” you answer.

“Ah, I see. I’m surprised someone as nice as you would intentionally visit him.”

“What does that mean?” you ask, furrowing your brows as you pass the clipboard back to him.

“Nothing, just- Hang on, I’m out of badges. Jackson, do you have visitors’ badges over there?”

“Uh, yeah,” the man beside him, Jackson apparently, answers.

“She’s here to visit Bradford,” Nolan explains.

“On purpose?” Jackson asks.

“That’s what I said!”

“Why is that so surprising?” you ask, smiling.

“He’s just… grumpy, and you seem so kind and fun to be around,” Nolan replies.

“You think I’d be fun to be around?”

“I- I mean, yeah. So envisioning you and Bradford talking to each other is just weird.”

“And concerning,” Jackson adds. “Have you been tested for any cognitive issues?”

“That’s not cognitive-related, you’re just questioning if I’m a good judge of character,” you argue.

“What’s your impression of me?” Nolan inquires. “Just to make sure you’re okay.”

“Well,” you begin, tapping the desk as you think.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim looks down at his watch before glancing at the door. You should be here by now; your text said ten minutes, and it’s been twice that. Tim abandons the conversation he’s been ignoring and walks to the door behind the desk. He hears you say why you’re there, but when Nolan starts talking to you about how different you are from Tim and then dips into what sounds like flirting, Tim's jaw tightens as he listens.

“As much fun as this has been,” you say with a chuckle, “I’m really late, and-“

“Bradford hates that. Trust me, I know,” Nolan interjects. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“I do. Thank you, Officer Nolan.”

“John.”

Tim watches you smile as you use Nolan’s first name, and his nostrils flare. Usually, he can recognize his own emotions (and he’d admit - to you, at least - that he doesn’t have much emotional range). Right now, he can’t place the feelings he’s experiencing watching you and Nolan.

“Uh, Tim?” you ask, stepping through the door to go to the bullpen.

“Hey,” Tim replies, turning quickly. He picks up a folder and adds, “Everything okay? Took you longer than usual.”

You look at the folder in his hand and answer, “Yeah. My favorite cop wasn’t at the front desk so I actually had to go through the whole visitor thing.”

“I’m not your favorite cop?” Tim asks.

“Depends on the day,” you reply, smiling as he steps beside you.

Tim doesn’t answer, and when you look over at him, you’re surprised to see him looking straight ahead, bending the folder with a tight grip. You stop, placing a hand on his forearm.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

“Never been better,” Tim answers. “Why’d you stop by?”

“Oh. I wanted to let you know that Kojo is at my house, but also have a question.”

“Then ask.”

You bristle slightly at Tim’s disinterested tone, but you know his job is tough, and he’s probably had a long day.

“Do you-“

“Bradford!” someone calls. “Let’s go!”

Tim looks toward you, and you say, “Go ahead. My question can wait. Have a good day, Tim.”

“You too,” he mutters.

Tim takes the time to watch you leave, despite his seeming indifference. When you stop by the desk to say bye to Nolan, Tim destroys the folder as he realizes what he feels. Tim Bradford is jealous. Worse, he’s jealous of a rookie.

✯✯✯✯✯

Kojo is on a leash in your front yard, and you smile as you watch him jump after a ball. Tim lives directly beside you, so you’ll know when he gets home. Hopefully, the rest of his shift went okay, and he’s in a better mood now.

A deep voice calls your name, and you look away from Kojo. Your neighbor from the other side stops on the sidewalk before your house to continue talking to you.

“Hey! How are you?” you respond, staying by your porch.

“Better now,” he replies with a flirtatious smile.

He’s not a bad neighbor, but he makes you uncomfortable because he flirts with you every time he sees you. Having Kojo nearby makes you more comfortable, but you hope to get through the small talk and move on.

“I’m having a little get together on Friday if you’d like to come over.”

You call Kojo to your side, and he happily sits before you, another buffer between you and your neighbor. Tim’s truck turns into his driveway, and you sigh in relief. He gets out quickly, stopping by his passenger door as he watches you and Kojo. You smile, unsurprised but disappointed when Tim doesn’t return it.

“Friday?” your neighbor asks.

“I’ll, uh, I’m not sure if I can make it,” you offer. “Thanks for the invitation, though.”

“Open invite,” he adds before walking back toward his house.

“Hey, Tim,” you call, walking across your yard with Kojo’s leash in your hand. “Work go okay?”

“Yep. Thanks for taking care of Kojo.”

Tim takes the leash, his hand covering yours for just a moment. He pulls his hand away quickly and nods before he turns toward his house.

“Do you need me to watch him tomorrow?”

“No,” Tim answers, keeping his back to you. “Have a good one.”

You stand in your yard for a moment, wondering what happened. You’re starting to see the Tim Bradford that the officers at Mid-Wilshire talk about, and you’re not sure you like it.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim was hoping that you’d ask your question when he got home. When he saw your other neighbor talking to you and, from what Tim heard, asking you out, he decided he wasn’t in the mood to talk. Turning his back on you felt wrong, but his jealousy is calling the shots for now. Everyone close to you, close to Tim, seems to be making a move on you. Tim doesn’t want to admit it, but part of why he likes you so much is because he’s falling for you. He knows he’ll never be good enough for you, so he’s happy to be your friend... until today, and now he’s not sure if he can stand by and watch another man attempt to make you happy.

“Any chance you can tell me that I saw that wrong?” Tim asks Kojo. When Kojo huffs, he replies, “I didn’t think so.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Kojo starts barking as soon as you return home from running some errands. Tim said he didn’t need your help today, but Kojo needs something. You text Tim, asking if he wants you to check on Kojo, but he doesn’t answer. After a few minutes, you use your spare key and enter Tim’s house.

As you walk into the backyard with Kojo, you call Tim, but he still doesn’t answer. Kojo is fine, simply lonely, so you take him back to your house. After texting Tim to let him know, you walk back to your car to lock it. A police car stops across the street, and when you see Nolan exit the driver’s side, you yell his name and jog toward the road.

“Hey,” he greets.

“What’s going on?” you ask, walking into the street so you can hear him.

“Noise complaint. How long have you been home?”

“Ten minutes, maybe.”

“They called about excessive dog barking, and that’s a direct quote.”

“Oh… that was Tim’s dog. He’s fine now, but he was barking at me when I got back because he was lonely.”

Another shop parks behind Nolan’s, and Tim slams the door as he exits.

“It was Kojo, I’m so sorry,” you offer.

“I told you he was fine today,” Tim replies.

“He started barking and I was worried about him. You didn’t answer, so I-“

“It’s fine,” Tim snaps.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

Nolan nods as he gets back in his shop. Tim waits until he drives away to take a deep breath. He begins to speak, but another neighbor stops as he drives by, rolling his window down to ask how you are. Tim opens his door, and you rush to his shop and look through his rolled-down window.

“I’m sorry, Tim,” you repeat.

“It’s fine.”

“Clearly it isn’t because you can’t even look at me. I won’t do it again.”

“It’s not about you,” Tim argues. It is, but he can’t tell you that.

“Got it,” you murmur, stepping back. “I’ll take Kojo back to your place and leave my key.”

You cross the road, walking through your yard as you think about what you’re losing by accidentally pushing Tim away. Tim yells your name, and you stop but don’t turn toward him. He walks up behind you, and you can’t see his hands flex at his sides as he tries to find the words to say.

“It is about you, but not about you taking care of Kojo,” Tim begins. “It’s about you and me.”

Turning your head, you watch Tim’s hand fold into a fist as he continues.

“I just- Nolan was flirting with you, and…”

“You think he was flirting with me?” you ask, turning so you’re facing Tim.

“He was. And it made me angry. When I came home and saw what’s-his-name flirting with you too…”

“You got angry?”

“I got jealous,” Tim forces out.

“Why?”

“Because they’re doing what I want to do.”

“What does that mean, Tim?”

“It means that I want to be more than your friend but I’m not relationship material. Watching guys try to be what I want to be makes me jealous and angry, and for some reason I took it out on you.”

“And Nolan?”

Tim pauses before nodding.

“You know the worst part of this?” you ask. “That if you had just told me, I would have let you know that I feel the same.”

“You don’t get jealous,” Tim argues.

“That’s not true. Every time someone flirts with you or stares a little too openly, I remember that you could have anyone you wanted. Being your neighbor was the closest I thought I could get.”

Tim steps toward you, and you match his movement, closing the distance together.

“So…” you begin.

“So. What did you want to ask at the station?"

"If I could come over, but I feel confident assuming that you'd say yes."

Tim closes his eyes when your neighbor says your name.

“Cute,” you murmur.

“I realized that a big gathering like that wasn’t a good choice, so I wanted to ask if you were free Thursday? Maybe we could get some dinner or something."

“She’s busy,” Tim answers, his eyes on you.

“But-“

“Let me rephrase, she’s taken!” Tim yells.

“Oh, sorry man, I didn’t know.”

Tim watches him scurry inside before turning back toward you. You smile as you look at him.

“I’m taken?” you repeat.

“Only if you want to be.”

Nodding, you lay your hands on Tim’s chest. He moves a hand up to your waist, pulling you against him. Kojo barks before he can do anything, and you laugh against Tim’s uniform.

“Aren’t you still working?” you ask.

“Technically. How about dinner when I get off?”

“Only if you cook.”

“Like I’m taking you out in public this soon. I just got over the jealousy.”

You kiss Tim’s cheek just before dispatch alerts him of a call in the area.

“Where are you going?” he asks as you walk away.

“Home!” you call as you walk into his porch. “My boy lives here. And you do too.”

[sapphlopods]

This will be one of the hardest things I ever have to do, but I need help even though I hate asking for it.

Please help me escape my homophobic and financially abusive parents. More under "Keep Reading"

I'm Chaim, and ever since I graduated high school, I’ve lived with my parents. Australia has an incredibly bad housing crisis, and it’s nearly impossible for me to move out without friends or roommates who have a pre-established house, which I have none. 

Over the course of the past 4 years, I have watched my father devolve into this angry right-wing conspiracy theorist who thinks all “Wokes” should d1e. He has no idea I’m a lesbian as I fear for what he will do if he ever finds out. 

My mother has a range of health issues, in 2022 she had a heart attack, and this year, she was diagnosed with brain and kidney cancer, which she is in and out of hospital for. Her financial assistance has been delayed over and over, we still need to wait 2 months to get help. 

So, my household's only income is from my father and me. My father has an incredibly bad gambling, drinking and tobacco addiction, he goes through a pack of 30 cans and a pack of 30 cigarettes in 2 days. Tobacco and alcohol are heavily taxed here and are upwards of $60+ each; that’s $120 every 2 days, he earns $1600 fortnightly and spends roughly $840 of it on just his addictions; that’s more than half his pay, and that isn’t including the horse races he bets on. 

That leaves me to pick up the slack on groceries, rent, my mother's medicine and lend them money when Dad “overspends” at the pub. My father would rather starve than lessen his addictions a bit so we can afford to stay in our house and have food to eat. 

This has been happening for years even before my mother fell so ill she couldn’t work but it's gotten worse. I do not want to leave my mother, but she will not leave my father no matter what since she sees nothing wrong with what he does. I’m tired of being nothing more than a piggybank and a maid to my parents since I will never be able to move out when all my money goes towards keeping a roof over our heads. Even while I was on vacation, they still called me up and asked for money. 

I’ve wanted to move out for a long time, but my situation is getting direr by the day, and I can’t save a single cent to leave like this. I know many problems are going on in the world right now that deserve people’s time more than this so thank you for reading this far. 

If you can spare anything, please send it to my ko-fi. It'll be going towards getting stuff sorted so I can move to my partner Cinna, who lives far away in Chile, but I have no other option now. 11/12

I also have a few items listed on my eBay that people might like, a lot of it is fandom stuff and collector things I have accumulated, I'll be putting more stuff up slowly as I sort through my things preparing to move. https://www.ebay.com.au/usr/sapphlopods

[oreosmama]

Voicemails After the Breakup (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: I pity the fools who ignore this a/n bc WARNING, these are hcs without those stupid bullet points bc I have suddenly emotionally decided that they fucking suck. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy the light angst, for all those survivors who are still vibing in this fandom. Enjoy!

Word count: 1968

Tooru Oikawa:

“I’m totally and completely over you.”

That’s how the message starts. 

Part of you wonders if you missed something, or accidentally skipped ahead. It’s so immediate, like Oikawa could barely wait for the beep before tearing into you. Like he needed to spit poison the second he had the chance. 

And it’s one of those biting remarks that he wants to let fester—for a while, evidently; he doesn’t say anything else for another five minutes. 

All that follows is a loud thud, like he’s thrown the phone away from him. And then footsteps, like he’s pacing, pacing, pacing back and forth, trying to think of more scathing words by burning holes into his carpet. 

You hit a point where you think you should delete the message, maybe try and not care about whatever else he may or may not say after waiting for so long. You nibble on your nails and tug at the snarls in your hair. You pick four pieces of lint off your sweatshirt and seventeen more off the blanket draped over your lap, and you know how many there are because you line them up and count them afterwards as you wait, anxious, listening to your ex-boyfriend’s panting. 

But a small rustle stirs at that five-minute mark, right against your ear. And a sniffle. 

“Fine.” Oikawa’s voice cracks. “You win.” 

You suck in a breath. 

“What do you wanna hear? That I miss you?” He sniffles again, then scoffs bitterly. “That I miss you so fucking much I can’t sleep at night? That my bed is so fucking cold now I can’t even stomach sleeping in it? That every girl I see I automatically compare to you because I have to—I just fucking have to, all because she’s not you. And it makes me sick.”

His chuckle is sour and crackles harshly into your eardrum. “Am I stroking your ego enough, sweetheart? Because you win. You fucking win.

“I want you back.” 

He sighs, and it sounds like he’s rubbing his forehead. 

“I need you back.” 

More beats pass in the silence. More sniffles, too, but stretched out, like he’s trying to steady his breathing. 

You don’t think it’s helping him any. As you wipe the cuffs of your sweatshirt underneath your eyes, his voice returns, thoroughly raw and wounded. It squeaks out of him, barely above a whisper. His voice is so loud and tender, like he’s cradling the phone against his cheek. 

Your hand against his warm cheek, curled over that pink skin, fingertips inches away from brushing through those soft strands, wiping tears. That’s what you wish it was. 

“I didn’t know…�� 

A shaky breath. You hold yours in return. 

“I didn’t know anything could hurt this bad.”

He swallows thickly. 

“Those last few moments after you left—I thought that would be the worst of it. When you just walked out. And I keep seeing you do it, over and over and over, in my head like I can’t help but torture myself with it.

“I never knew it would get so much fucking worse.”

He whimpers a little, and your heart constricts unbearably. You tear at the damn thing buried underneath your sweatshirt, massaging the skin like it can soothe that phantom ache. 

Oikawa must hate you. Maybe he hates you like you hate him: not because of the breakup, but because you can go for weeks without seeing him, holding him, kissing him, and everything still hurts like that last time. 

“Thing is, I could’ve sworn you weren’t always in my life. It’s been two years. Only two years. And yet I can’t remember a damn thing before us. It feels like it was always us. Some fog, and then you, and then everything afterwards. Everything that was us.”

“And I hate that we had it so good, YN. I really do. Because missing you has been the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The frustration in his voice is familiar, a sickening sense of deja vu around it, and you latch a hand over your mouth at how vividly the image comes to you: Oikawa tearing his fingers through his hair, teeth gritted, cheeks flushed and shiny. Like when he lost a game, but different somehow. 

Like this was something he didn’t even know he could lose.

He’s crumbling in a way he doesn’t know how to stop. That ugly part about having something wonderful and new—the moment it’s gone, what the hell are you supposed to do then?

“I just—Goddamnit, I can’t stand how badly it hurts anymore. I can’t,” he cries, desperate and aching, like his hand is fisting at his heart. You can hear the breath hitching in his throat, the hiccuping breaths after his sobs. You can hear every tear, feel it against your own cheeks, a soreness building at the front of your skull. 

Too many tears. Your body is screaming at you, too many fucking tears. 

But it’s him and he was yours and you were his. 

Were. 

You were his. 

You had no idea how much that single thought could make your entire chest throb. 

Oikawa inhales, and it makes your heart race against the thick wall caging it in, squeezing against it. 

“I need to see you.” 

He says the thought like it’s just slapped him across the face. 

“I need to go see you, I—I have to.” 

He mumbles to himself unsteadily, like he’s rocking back and forth. Debating, really, what he’s supposed to do, if he should do it at all, if it’s right after everything.

You should probably think he’s wrong.

You probably shouldn’t be curled over your phone, eyes wide, mouth open, not making a fucking peep. Waiting to hear what he’s going to do. 

Maybe—just maybe—you shouldn’t be telling yourself that as the voicemail counts down to its final seconds, if he decides he’s not going to go to you, that you’ll definitely be going to him.

“I can’t just sit here. I can’t stay in here, without you. This isn’t right, I—”

Your breath hitches when you hear the frantic jingle of keys. 

Then the sound of a door slamming. 

His footsteps racing down his apartment’s stairwell.

A car engine revving. 

“I need to see you.” 

And the voicemail ends. 

_________________________

Satori Tendou: 

The message begins with a scoff of utter disbelief. 

“Is that what we’re doing now?”

He pauses, almost like he thinks you’re going to respond. 

“Heard from someone that I suddenly have syphilis. Yesterday, I had herpes though, so I guess I’m gonna have a tough week.”

A rustle like he’d shaking his head, like he can’t fucking believe it. 

“And sure, okay, I figured that’s fine. You can say all that shit, and it won’t really stick because everyone knows it was us and that it’s you and you’re hurt.”

He sighs. 

“But I saw it, sweetheart. I saw it.” The phone whines like he’s adjusting it against his face, and his voice is suddenly lower, darker. 

“You don’t get to have it both ways, you know. You can’t spread all that shit—all those rumors about how shitty everything was and how we didn’t have anything going for us—and then turn around two days later wearing my sweatshirt. And you don’t get to wear that necklace I gave you for our anniversary and then run away from me the second you see me. That’s just not fair—you’re not playing fair anymore.”

Something swishes around like loose clothing, and a large huff greets your ear from what must be Tendou collapsing into a seat. When his little sounds become quieter, that relentless humming and the excitable clicks of his tongue against his teeth, you figure he must have put the phone on speaker and balanced it on his knee like he always did. Mid-conversation with Ushiwaka, he always used to spin his phone with those long fingers, or bounce the damn thing up and down against his frantic leg. 

And the voicemail came through late last night, one of those dead hours where the only ones awake were Tendou, his scrambling thoughts, and the moths flitting back and forth outside his glowing window. He was always awake, always thinking, always doing something. 

When you’d first broken up, after one long, wrenching fight where you’d both lost your voices and the frustration welled so high you just couldn’t breathe anymore, you’d been thankful for the idea of sleeping soundly for the first time in months. 

You’d been wrong. You weren’t even sleeping anymore; just long, slow blinks where your phone screen would magically turn from 3:45 a.m. to 7:25 a.m., and in five minutes you’d have to get up and slug your way through another day. 

Tendou had been the same. Those naturally wide eyes sagged under the pressure, and the curve of his spine had deepened like he’d been hauling the lack of sleep everywhere he went. 

He must be sitting at his window now, at this moment in his message, pale skin aglow with wispy tendrils of moon. And he’s calling you. And he saw everything you’d done. 

“Not fair. Not fair at all,” he whines, teasing. Always, always teasing, and if you hadn’t heard the slight cripple in his voice on the last word, you’d have gone on thinking he viewed it as one big joke. 

You’re sure he heard the same thing you had—that he couldn’t keep acting like it was all fun and games. His usual, cat-like smile surely fell into a pert little frown, pale lips twisting like he’d sucked on a lemon. 

No fun, no fun, no fun, he must have been thinking. 

“Ya see, I thought we had a little deal,” Tendou drawls. “You’d talk smack and start dressing all pretty just to spite me, and then–and then I’d go ahead and delete all your pictures and put your name as ‘Bitch’ in my phone. And in, like, two weeks, we’d just be two ships, whoosh, whoosh, passing each other on the high seas of life, ya know?”

He breathes a ghost of a laugh. 

“But, sweetheart, you look like shit.” He chuckles for real this time, and it’s disgustingly hollow. “I’m not even kidding. Like someone ran you over three times every morning—it’s horrible, really.”

You curl into yourself even further, and you’re smiling, grinning, lips peeling with how much you’ve cried and how little water you’ve drank after. You hate him; God, you hate how he can make you laugh and cry at the same time. 

“But that’s okay, I’ll give you a pass just this once. I haven’t deleted your pictures yet, so I botched my end of the deal, too.” Tendou tsks his tongue. 

“I won’t go easy on you, though. Here–here, how’s about this: for every day you stop wearing my clothes—because they look horrible on you, sweetheart; really, you’re painful to watch—I’ll delete one of your pictures, eh? That means, in about–uhhdivideby365daysinayearignoringleapyearbullshit–ah, seven years, I’ll have held up my end. S’that good with you?”

You lean your head back, letting the tears flood your hair as he chuckles to himself. 

“Fuck it,” he says after a pause. Hopeless. Breathless. “Fuck it.” He must be gnawing on that pale lower lip, biting and nibbling until it bleeds. Because he lets something go to sigh again, and he must have smacked his head against the wall, and then you think he sniffled. 

“I still want you. I’ve always wanted you. And I’m tired of missing you and wanting you. Doing both hurts too much.”

Tendou soughs.

“So I’m still your Chicken Tendy, baby. Always. And I’ll be here when you're ready, syphilis and all.”

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Discovers He Has A Daddy Kink | Shoto x Reader

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Pro Hero Shoto Torodoki x Reader 💋

Summary: Shoto is your Pro-Hero boyfriend coming home late from patrol. He finds you up to no good 😉 and decides to join you. In the heat of the moment, you call him "Daddy" and he goes absolutely feral. All characters are consenting adults in their late twenties. A hot, unedited one shot.

Genre: Smut, Romance, S*xual Tension

CW: MDNI!, A18+, Daddy Kink, Rough Sex, Femme Reader, AFAB Reader, Unprotected Sex

💕Link to My Master List 💕

Neither of you see it coming when you say it for the first time. You didn’t plan on saying it, and there’s no way in hell that you could have anticipated Shoto’s reaction to the word.

It’s a Thursday night and Shoto got back later than expected from patrol.  It’s been a long week and you could really use a goddamn fucking orgasm to put you to sleep, so when it becomes clear your boyfriend isn’t going to be home on time, you start touching yourself in bed. You’re so in the zone you don’t hear the door open and shut when he arrives home, exhausted and sweaty from a long night out with his sidekicks.

He leaves his dirty hero costume at the door and stumbles into the bedroom in his underwear – tight black boxers that are a size too small. Shoto never learned how to shop for himself, and you’ve been slowly helping him build a wardrobe that compliments him.

He arrives in the doorway of your shared bedroom and sees you face down in his pillow, grinding into your fingers as you slowly pleasure yourself over your soft pajamas. His impassive expression quirks into a smile as he watches you squirm and shift your hips to get a better angle. He lets himself enjoy the view for a few moments, shedding his boxers as he feels his cock start to stiffen. He reaches down to stroke at himself, reveling in the way he gets turned on just looking at you. You’ve been together for 2 years and he still can get off to just the thought of you. He works at his dick for a few minutes, getting himself nice and hard as you continue to obliviously masturbate on the bed.

Finally, he can’t take it anymore. He needs to feel you. He approaches the bed quietly, then says in his authoritative Pro Hero voice “Stop what you’re doing, and stay where you are.”

You freeze, momentarily scared shitless. Your ass is in the air and your face doesn’t leave the pillow as you call out: “Shoto? You’re home?”

“I just got off patrol. Looks like someone couldn’t stand waiting for me.” He says softly, climbing on the bed and positioning himself behind you. “Looks like you got yourself all pretty and ready for my cock.” He reaches up and pulls your sweatpants down, revealing your ass. He slips the fabric down a few more inches until you feel the cool air conditioning hit your pussy. You shiver and Shoto smiles as he reaches down to caress your pussy with calloused, capable fingers.

You hiss in satisfaction when he slips a finger inside you, rocking it in an attempt to hit your G spot. The angle is no good, and you push backwards into him, craving more attention. You assume that he’ll finger you and then use his mouth like he usually does – so you’re surprised when he quickly removes his finger and shifts to replace it with his thick cock. His hard member slides easily inside of you, but you still cry out at the unexpected intrusion.

“Did you miss me, sweetheart?” He asks breathlessly as he begins to move, thrusting into you at an even pace. You groan in reply, happy to be full of his rock hard cock. He slides in and out of you leisurely, enjoying the way your pussy wraps around him so invitingly. “Fuck. I didn’t realize how badly I needed this.” He grabs your hips for leverage, slowly picking up the pace. You moan as he hits your core just right.

“I feel bad that you had to wait so long.” He says apologetically. “You know I’ll always take care of my sweet girl.” He thrusts a bit harder and you whimper as you build towards your orgasm, molten lava pooling in your core. “Is this what you wanted baby?”

His cock is stretching you out so good, treating you so well. You can’t even think straight. The words tumble from your lips before you have time to wrap your brain around them.

“Yes, daddy.”

Shoto’s hips stutter to a stop and you wine at the loss of action.

“What did you just call me?” He says, sounding confused. You double down, hoping to spur him to return to thrusting. You need him so badly, you’ll do anything to get him moving again.

“Daddy.”

“Fuck.” Some kind of switch slips in Shoto’s brain and he beings pounding into you, frenzied. His grip on your hips tightens and is almost bruising. He guides your bodies together again and again, chasing his high. You feel his hard cock slide in as deep as he can manage, kissing your cervix with a prevision that only a Pro Hero can manage.

“Oh, Shoto yes!” Is all you can manage to say as he pounds you into the mattress doggy style, all of his energy concentrated on absolutely railing your pussy.

You’re so close to cumming, your orgasm building and tantalizing you – just a few strokes of Shoto’s dick away. Your eyes slip closed as you enjoy the insane motion of Shoto’s hips. You’re absolutely cock drunk and drooling into the pillow.

“Shoto, I’m gonna - ” But just as your pleasure starts to crest, he pulls out of you and flips you onto your back. “Wha -?” He raises your hips and tosses your legs over his shoulders. His heterochromiatic eyes are blazing as he looks down at you, his bangs plastered to his forehead with sweat. He guides his cock back towards your entrance, rubbing his head against your clit for good measure before sliding back inside you. This new angle is absolutely heavenly – typically, Shoto likes to fuck slow and sweet. This aggression is a real treat. He does all the work, slowly fucking into you until he picks back up to his previous unbelievable pace. His pro hero body has so much stamina, you know that he can keep this up all night if need be. Your pussy flutters with the notion, your breath coming out in hot pants.

Shoto locks eyes with you and growls out “Say it again.”

Your eye lids are drooping as you focus on the smooth slide of his cock in and out of you. “Say what?” You moan out, enjoying the way your legs bounce on his muscular shoulders as he pistons into you. He slides a hand down from your hips and delivers a swift smack to your ass. Your eyes widen at the contact.

“Say. It. Again.” Your brain scrambles and searches for the words he wants to hear. With a start you put the pieces together.

“Fuck me harder – daddy.”

Shoto groans and shifts forward to rest his face in the crook of your neck, the change in position nearly bending you in two. You say a silent prayer to your yoga instructor and breathe into the new position. You cry out in pleasure as Shoto’s cock hits your G spot with shocking precision in the new angle. Your pussy squeezes around him and he’s in absolute heaven as he kisses desperately at your neck. He reaches down to deliver another sharp smack to your ass cheek and the mixture of pain and pleasure pushes you over the edge.

“Shoto, baby, I’m cumming. I-I’m cumming. Oh my God.” You feel the orgasm hit you in waves, your body shaking as you cum around your boyfriend’s perfect cock. The shockwaves of muscle spasms in your pussy pushes Shoto over the edge, too. You feel his cock twitch deep inside you before he cums, shooting ropes of ejaculate into your sweet core. As you ride out your orgasm, your pussy milks Shoto for all he’s worth and he groans out your name, unbelieving that sex can feel this good, this insane. He thrusts into you until your both over stimulated, groaning from the contact.

When you’re done, he pulls himself up a bit so that you’re in a more comfortable, less-foldy position, but he stays inside you for a few minutes as you both catch your breath. Beads of sweat slide down your joined bodies like raindrops, and you long for both sleep and a shower. You’re not sure if you’ll manage the latter.

Finally, breathing heavily, Shoto pulls out of you. He watches as his cum drips down your sticky thighs and pools on the duvet. He reaches out a finger to trace along the slit of your pussy, dipping into your sticky center in wonder. You shiver, over stimulated, and swat his hand away from your still-pulsing core. You’re on birth control, of course – but you and Shoto are usually so careful to use condoms. Shoto’s complicated history with his family makes him wary of fatherhood, and you both usually take every precaution possible when it comes to sex.

“I…I don’t know what came over me.” He says, shaking his head as he reaches to help you sit up. He uses a thumb to smooth sweat off your brow and tuck your hair behind your ears. “Was that too much, love? I’m so sorry if I took things too far.”

You shake your head, breathless. “Shoto that was…that was incredible.” You grin stupidly up at him, head foggy from your orgasm. “…I guess you have a daddy kink?”

He gives you a funny look. “I’m going to need to talk about this in therapy. This is clearly me dealing with my fucked up father issues in a new weird way.”

“…or….” You say optimistically, sensing that Shoto is about to shut down the way he does when his family comes up in conversation. “Orrrr you have a fun new kink for us to explore! Don’t overthink it, babe. At least not tonight. You must be exhausted.” You reach out and take one of his hands in yours, massaging up his wrist where you know he often aches from using his ice quirk. You pull him into a chaste kiss. He leans into the touch, grateful.

“There will be plenty of time for processing. But for now, let’s cleanup and go to bed.” You whisper, your foreheads touching.

“You’re right.” He says, scooting off the bed and getting to his feet. “What do you want – a washcloth and a water bottle?”

“Please.” You say, laying back on the pillow and stretching out your legs. Shoto comes back a minute later with both items.

“There is one thing I definitely want to do again.” Shoto says, his face burning a bit red as he watches you wipe yourself down with the cloth.

“What’s that sweetheart?” You ask him, curious.

“Can I spank you more often?” He sheepishly grins, his eyes darting down to take in the bright red spot he’s left on your ass cheek.

“Anytime, Shoto.” You laugh as you let him pull you to your feet and towards the bathroom for a shower. It’s late, and there’s plenty of time to discuss things in the morning over coffee and pancakes. All is well.

[pamgkrthwrites]

2500 please?

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Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Dad!Bakugou x F!Reader

Themes: Bakugou is not the perfect dad but is trying his best, based off of a TikTok Sound

Summary: You get a call from your nearly 16-year-old daughter at 2 a.m. asking for $2500.

Word Count: 1K

Tag List: @optimisticprime3 @dreamcastgirl99 (Sorry if I've forgotten or gotten someone's tag wrong)

A/N: I should've been working on an assignment instead of this....

“Hey mama, do you have $2500 you can send me?” You heard your 15-year-old daughter’s voice through the phone.

You leaned up in your and Katsuki’s bed, looking at the time. “Katsumi, it’s 2 am. What do you possibly need $2500 for?” Your head hot the pillow before you suddenly sat u straight. “Katsumi, where are you?”

“Um-” You heard your daughter’s voice go weak though you could still hear her smile over the phone. “An escape room?”

“The truth, Katsumi.” You warned, sitting up in your bed.

“... Prison?”

You sat up straight, your eyes open wide. “PRISON?!”

Your husband Katsuki sturred awake, mumbling some curses.

“You can’t tell daddy!” Katsumi’s voice strained. “My friends and I were just goofing around-”

“Can’t tell me what?” You heard Katsuki's grumbly voice say before you turned your head, seeing your very tired 42-year-old husband. He grabbed your phone as he sat up, pulling it to his ear. “What did you do and where are you?”

You heard your daughter's voice become quieter and you could imagine her doing the thing she’s done since she was 3 and got in trouble with your husband. Lower lip pouting, looking down with hands behind her back and kicking rockings with her feet.

“... My friends and I snuck out and we went to a party and the cops were called and apparently there were drugs-”

“Drugs?!” Katsuki’s voice boomed. “You’re doing drugs?!”

“Nononono!” Katsumi panickingly rushed out. “There happened to be drugs there! That’s why we got arrested-”

“ARRESTED?!” Katsuki was going to pop a blood vessel with how angry he was.

You heard your youngest daughter Fuku crying now from her room. You gave your husband a look, but all you saw was anger behind his eyes. He took a deep as he clutched onto your phone tightly. 

“Where are you being held?” He asked through gritted teeth as he signalled to you to check on your 7-year-old daughter.

You groaned as you got out of bed to go check on your youngest.

Katsuki waited until you left the room before glaring at the phone as if Katsumi could see his glare. “You’ll be grounded for 2 months, your birthday party is cancelled and you’ll write your mother an apology letter.”

“What?! But that's so unfair!-”

“Do you want me to come pick you up or do you just want to walk straight home?” You snapped at his daughter.

“... Fine…”

The drive from the police station was long and awkward. Katsumi wondered if her father was driving the long way home just so the guilt would eat her alive. She looked up at Katsuki with her eyes, the same eyes that you had.

He was silently fuming.

She looked out of the sports car passenger window, looking at her reflection in the side mirror. Her eyeliner was smudged and her father’s wheat-blonde hair looked messy with your hair texture on her head.

“Where’s mama?” She asked.

“At home. Someone had to watch your sisters.” He answered coldly. 

When he noticed he was getting close to the street they lived on, he parked on the side of the road close to the park he used to take Katsumi to.

She stared at the park, remembering when she first got her quirk at the said park when she was 4. How you held her so closely with a smile and spun her around while Katsuki just watched, realising Katsumi had his same quirk.

“Why did you go?” He asked her, trying to keep a level head.

“I just wanted to do something fun with my friends.”

“You’re 16 in 4 days!” He pointed out to her. “You shouldn’t have snuck out! What if something worse happened than just drugs happening?”

“Why would you care-”

“Because you are my daughter, Katsumi!” Katsuki tried to hold back a tempered response. You told him to be gentle. He was never really good at it. He tapped his finger on the steering wheel. “Is this about that boy at school?”

The lack of a response from Katsumi confirmed it Katsuki. He took a breath in trying to not get angry.

“I know you don’t like him-”

“Understatement of the year, Sumi.” Katsuki butted in.

“-but I really like him!” Katsumi had small tears in her eyes and her fists clenched.

Katsuki was silent, tapping his finger on the wheel. 

“... Don’t change yourself for some boy, Katsumi.” Katsuki said to her. “If you’re going to date, don’t make it a life lesson for yourself.”

Katsumi turned her head away from her father, crossing her arms. “Whatever.”

Katsumi barged through the front door, avoiding making eye contact with you as she made her way to her bedroom, passing her sisters’ rooms along the way. She slammed the door shut and locked the door, leaving you and Katsuki alone with high tension lingering in the house.

“What did you say to her?” You asked him with a raised brow.

“I told her not to change for that stupid boyfriend.” You angrily answered as he made his way back to your two’s bedroom.

Once you closed the door did he take off his shoes and shirt before getting back into bed. You sat beside him and gently rubbed his old man's back.

“Was he at that party?” You asked Katsuki gently.

“I don’t fucking know-! Probably!” He groaned, burrowing his face into a pillow.

“... Maybe we need to have the talk with her-” You stopped yourself when you saw the nasty look Katsuki was giving you. “Don’t act like that, Katsu. I started having sex when I was around her age.”

“With who?” He glared, his possessiveness over you still strong as ever, even after 18 years of marriage.

You just rubbed his back. “Not important. You have to accept that she’s going to start dating, there isn’t much you can do about that.”

Katsuki sighed, getting comfortable in bed. “Let’s just go to sleep. It’s 3am.”

You leaned down and kissed Katsuki’s forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

[the-monkeies-girl]

Future. ( Noa x Human!Reader ) Part 8.

I keep waiting for it to get better GUYS

Title: Future. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Violence, injury, blood, eyyyyy. ) Pairing: Implied! Noa x Human! Reader. Words: 6.4K+ Summary: Demise comes in a lot of forms. Read the Series Here.

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Noa must have sent Eagle Sun in his place, choosing to not even bother saying goodbye as you stared at the bird sitting on the back of the horse you were gearing up to depart on. He surely seemed intent on watching as you placed your satchel and freshly filled water gorge onto one of the twining hooks in the back for safe keeping during your travels, going as far as to peck at the item as if to say ‘you’re not leaving, you can’t leave’.

He had been here, you deduced by the fact that there was a freshly rolled blanket mounted on the back carrier of the horse, along with enough provisions to last you at least a week, if not more if you rationed, a few spearheads and a few water gorges, all full. It was clear that Noa hadn’t slept the night before, opting to do something to keep himself busy before you chose to leave. He had no idea when, but he must have figured you’d leave before first light so as to not make a spectacle out of it anymore.

Like it was one to even begin with, rolling your eyes, you tightened the blanket hap-hazardly, subconsciously dallying enough to give you a bit more time to think about what was waiting for you beyond the bushes and safety net that Noa had casted over you for so long.

You adjusted the bag that Noa had given you. Not even bothering a kind thought towards it, there were no good intentions put behind the items in your eyes anymore, it felt hollow and shallow like you were stepping into a lake that appeared deep on the surface but was nothing more than a mere puddle. Noa most likely gave you these things out of ridding himself of guilt if you ended up dead, your face contorted uncomfortably at the idea but it felt right. Let Echo leave with food, some small weapons and small items to help out and if they die on their own, then oh well, at least Noa did what he needed to do so as to not cause your death directly.

Contemplating for a moment as you were in a staredown with the Eagle, you chose to not pet his head goodbye as a means to burning the bridges, as uncomfortable it was to think about and as sad it was for Eagle Sun who had no real position in all of this, Noa’s decision was always Eagle Sun’s and the Ape had to know this choice… Not even a choice. This demand that you leave was going to affect more than just Noa and yourself. This place… Your home for nearly a year, your belongings all fitting into one small bag…

The juxtaposition was clear, the more you thought about it, the more you thought about your Human aspects against their Ape adjacent aspects. You never should have stayed here, you should have never taken the sweetness of the offer that Noa gave. Temptation was a fault of Humans, more than evident now as you felt your heart skip a beat. You turned your back to the horse to get one more good look at what you were abandoning.

The sweeping towers of the clan, eclipsed with running vines up the sides and posts that elevated it high into the air, the lush green landscape peppered deliciously with wildflowers that grew to your mid-calf that surrounded the clan itself and gave it blissed paradise away from the rest of the valley, the rush of the river only a few meters away from the horse paddock, roaring back at you the intricate conversations that you and Noa shared, all shattered into small shards that you wanted to pick up, but with every attempt, it left your hands a bloody mess, and the more you tried to hold, the worse it got.

An hourglass where there was no sand anymore, having been heated by anger and aggression to the point where it was now an hourglass that was responsible for small slivers of glass encased memories. You wanted to look at them through rose-colored eyes, but it was impossible now with the remembrance of your words in conflict with Noa’s, to the point where words themselves no longer made sense as you had re-played them over and over again.

Your eyes lingered on the horizon for a few moments, the sun barely making its presence known along the twinkling dip of the Earth. It was on the cusp of dawn, the sky above you shifting to a mild pink with a richly deep undertone of midnight blue. You hadn’t slept at all the night before, but you let your fire die out on its own out of neglect. It felt good to do, to know that it was dying because you were choosing to not stroke it back to life, with every ember that flittered from orange to ashen, you felt a grotesque satisfaction wave over you. Death brought new beginnings, you whispered to yourself and squeezed your eyes shut but Death also meant the end to something. There was no point for slumber once Noa tore away from you, refusing to even look back as he took his leave from your hut.

You tried to keep your eyes focused and alert as you got the horse ready, as you went to the river to dip a cloth in it for your wrist, to reflect in solitude for only a moment as if the hours of your self-deprecation after Noa left wasn’t enough, as if the minutes it took you to shove things into your bag meant nothing anymore. Your feet felt heavy when making it to the embankment of the river itself, your shoulders torn inwards with equivocation.

The water bounced around your fingers as you dipped it into the shoreline, crisping against a smoothed pebble. Just one, small enough for you to tuck into the wrapped nature of your wrist bandage for safe keeping. You had no idea what to do with it, but you wanted something to remind you of the bitterness that began springing in you at the realization that nothing was sentimental to these Apes, nothing meant anything. Clenching your jaw at that, you steered your train of thought but found it still obsessing over Noa.

Not a goodbye, not a yearning action towards you anymore as if you were expecting a whole departure party. You were selfish, you tore into your own self as a means to dull the vague pained prospect that you were leaving everything you had wanted, and then more. Selfish to think that this could have worked, that months ago, you were willing to give it a chance once actual emotions began seeping into conversations with Noa. He never cared - you yelled inside, he never cared, and he was more selfish than you were trying to hold on even tighter. You figured it would be him who came out on top - he was built to hang, built to hold on. With one glance that meant more than any other, you began sweating, your hands slipping and you were no longer to hang or hold on anymore. Noa won.

Turning back around as you tried with meager desperations to remember the moments, the good and the bad, remember the kindness that you had received while here, along with the toppled glares of the Elders who were not happy at your presence at all, going as far as to convince Noa time and time ago to just let you loose… Bitterly, you smiled at that and brought your hand up to lightly brush the side of the horse. They were going to be so happy once the sun rose and you were no longer there, no longer a ticking-time threat.

You would miss the entire village, but this… Tightening your grip onto the saddle, you rose your body with a grunt and a small cry at the nature of your wrist bending in any position other than stagnantly flat, your knuckles flashed white at what happened the night before as you grabbed the reins and steadied your balance. Anger bubbled to the surface as you dropped your eyelids down to encase your vision with your wounded wrist, now tightly tied into a cloth that had been dipped in fresh and crisp river as a means to help the swelling go down.

As if you were any better, any less selfish, you thought to yourself and let your hands glide along the side of Noa’s horse to calm them down in your presence as you adjusted yourself on top of the saddle. You weren’t their owner, they were begging you to jump off and to just stay, and that’s all you wanted. To fall, even onto your knees and beg to stay. Fluttering your good wrist against the reins, you began trotting to the east, down the dirt pathway used by many Apes over the generations of Noa’s clan, now kissing you a farewell as Noa himself refused to even see you off.

Noa would tell Anaya and Soona what happened, you imagined and drew a deep breath in, holding it painfully long to the point where it felt like your lungs were going to explode. At least, he would tell them what they wanted to hear, you wondered for a split second just how much of a villain in all of this you were about to come but tried to shake that vicious thought out of your mind. There was no sense in thinking about that, you were never going to see them again.

You urged the horse forward and with a wild but tamed neigh, they began trotting away.

You turned your head, tears stinging at the back of your eyelids.

You could still see the clan in all its glory, tightening your hands onto the reins you contemplated going back a few times. Going back and apologizing and asking for forgiveness in hopes that you would be allowed to stay.

Not because you were selfish.

But because you couldn’t imagine yourself anywhere else, being anyone else.

It was home.

A few minutes later, you turned your head once you were in the embellishment of the woods, tears now encasing your entire cheeks, down the slope of your face and off your chin to drip onto your hands.

Just the tops of the tree-bungalows.

A few minutes later, you turned your head, reminding yourself that it wasn’t worth crying over. He didn't want you there anymore than you wanted to be there when you were first picked up by Noa, Anaya and Soona.

Nothing, just forested trees sweeping your vision from all sides, darkened and musky as the sun began rising in the direction you were headed. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

Noa racked himself through the coals, holding onto his heart in the only way he knew how as he had watched you prepare to leave. Always, even after what happened, what you said to him and what he had done to you, he watched, waited, perhaps even hoped that you’d come to your senses first, as you always did, and come back to him. That you’d be able to rationalize it all and tell him why your departure was not a good idea, something outside of the self-absorbed realm of not wanting to die if you were out on your own.

It was surely one of those Echo things - Noa never understood it, the sudden surge of codependency you had towards each other, having only shifted a few months ago in the peak of the Summer months. You were the rational one, you kept yourself grounded and by proxy, you kept Noa there too. But now, there was nothing holding him down, nothing to grab onto as if your hand was still reaching for him in dead space.

The tree he chose to watch you from was far enough away that the darkened fur of his body was able to camouflage him, but it was close enough that he was able to see the scape of your face, the timid rise and fall of your shoulders, your scanning glance that was seeped around the edges with darkened circles and redness lingering around the creases of your eyelids. Noa felt bile hit the back of his throat, heaving his chest a bit more adamantly as to remind himself that your words had to be right. You hadn’t slept, by the looks of it and the appearance of your stance behind incredibly slumped in like you didn't have the energy to stand up straight.

He knew that you were aware of the bag of picked provisions he left for you, having gone there an hour prior to prepare the items and set the horse saddle on, something he knew you were incapable of doing with your Echo strength. How he wanted to chuckle at that, but he felt desolate inside when you simply looked into the bag, no evident reaction on your face other than your brows pulling in on themselves, before you continued on your way.

You spared it no more attention and mounted the horse with delicate ease. His green gaze stared at your wrist, embarked with white fabric that you had to tear one of your old shirts apart for. It tied neatly around your thumb, giving you the dexterity needed to grasp things but it was obvious how pained it was. He had done that, and all the times he had thought of hurting you in the graces of pleasure seemed to fade into oblivion in his open mind.

He would bite your neck and make you bleed, tearing at the tender spots until you were lifeless under him.

He would hold your body close to him and feel the shattering of every single one of your ribs before you slumped against his own self.

He would place his forehead against your own in a bid of apology and forgiveness and in the process, you would turn away, afraid to be touched, afraid to be near him.

Baited in self-deprecation once more, he watched you wordlessly set off into the woods, Eagle Sun soaring above your head in a bid to follow you until you were out of Eagle Clan territory. It would take you to the end of the day, Noa figured, factoring in small breaks he knew you were going to need on the back of the horse, and then… Eagle Sun would return to bid Noa news on your venture before he encased himself in loneliness and an astringent prospect that it would take no time at all to forget this. To forget Echo. To forget you.

“You’re just an animal.”

Maybe he was.

Noa felt himself flurring, in and out of a conscious state and without intending anymore damage as he had felt the delectation of your bones crunching under his strength, you had been dropped to the floor, on your side and made quite an impact to the point where Noa could sense the bruising already taking form on your hips and side, eradicating heat running through your ribs as you tried to breath, tried to hold yourself up and had a hard time relinquishing to the adrenaline that was coursing through you, a reaction to his subvertant aggression. It was going to dim, Noa knew that, and your wrist was going to become more distressed and dressed elegantly with sharpened purples, reds and blacks in an attempt to heal the unhealable.

Through pupil-blow eyes, he just looked at you and panted, the bristling of fur on his shoulders rolling through his entire being with a shuffle of electricity through his spine, his shackled feet stagnant but spaced in irritation, his shoulders broadened and intimidating. He liked it; the view of your tears. The struggle you went through as you tried to process what happened, holding onto the pressure point he so willingly took into his grasp, intentionally too tight, intentionally holding you up like a fish caught on a hook so he could look at the prize he once thought he had.

Noa could feel the scratch-marks you left on the side of his hand from where you had tried to get him to let you go, not deeply ingrained to bleed but shallow enough that it was a discomfort to the Ape. You were selfish, Noa thought to himself and narrowed his eyes. Selfish just like he was and you deserved what he did, just like he deserved your harsh words.

Noa expected more. Expected you to snap back at him, and realistically, he wanted you to. Tear him down just to piece him back together out of desperation once you realize what you were losing. Grab onto his shoulders, Noa begged, dig your fingernails into me, make me bleed, make me submit. You hurt me, I hurt you, so you should hurt me back! If I’m nothing more than an animal to you, then I’ll act like it. I hurt you, you hurt me, back and forth until one of us submits to the other. Irrationality never rested well with the Eagle Clan leader.

“I need to think of my Clan’s Future,” His words were torn, a fork in the road. Pragmatism wrestled with primal intent touched with optimism. “Was not when I asked… You to say…” His next set of words came out more biting than before, the pure flinch you radiated at the infliction was something Noa felt was going to be remembered for years to come, “When I w… wanted you to stay.”

Noa savored every bitter drop of it to the very end, at least until he left and was shattered and torn to the reality of what had just happened as you left his view, tangling yourself into the woods on his horse. He counted every trot of the horse. One foot, two, three, four until he was unable to see you anymore and he focused on hearing them instead. One, two, three… There was nothing more for him, nothing lingering in the air.

Your laugh. Noa drew a small breath in to torture himself with dissatisfaction of not entirely inflating his lungs, your smile… He’d forget them with time, but he didn't want to. Just like he had already forgotten his Father’s embrace, his voice on the very cusp of being lost to time, all of you… Will become distant, one year from now, two into three… He wondered then, what he would remember. Your scent would become one with the trees as a breeze rolled through the land, sweet and inviting him to sit blissed in reminiscent melancholy of what could have been. He wanted that.

Actually, if Noa were honest he wanted to chase after you. Mount Anaya’s horse, telling the Ape he’d be back shortly and run away in hopes that he’s able to track you, one of the many skills that Noa possessed to near perfection. There was no point - You’d never come back to him as if you were ever his to begin with, the Chimp scoffed at that. He was not inherently selfish but oh, how he wanted to be… Just for a few minutes to convince himself to get you to selfishly stay with him. He knew the idea was outlandish.

You couldn’t bear him an heir for the Eagle Clan’s longevity and he knew that but still, he’d be willing to risk it just to have you, just for the chance to know what it felt like, to know how it felt like to have your affection tossed towards him. Selfish. You were right. He was selfish. You were just an Echo to everyone else, they never saw, heard or felt you like he had… Every place you had touched him burned, soldering into his skin unbearable to the position that Noa wanted to scream. He was never going to experience that again.

Just like Noa himself, you were incredibly boar-headed in your decisions especially if they were made for you. You’d rather sit back and take it than try to come up with an argument against it because it was hard to do that when you didn't know all the details, all the feelings that were going into it. Noa made this. Noa demanded this decision be reality. Noa needed to think of Anaya… Soona… Dar… The entire Eagle Clan rested on his shoulders, he knew but there was nothing counting towards the agony that drenched over him when he thought about what was said the night before and what he had done to you. Looking down pensively at his hand, he collapsed his fingers into a fist and brought it harshly down onto the tree-branch he was sitting on.

He was sure he was going to forget as time was a funny thing.

But that was the thing… Noa… didn't want to.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

Three Months Later.

Grunting, you felt your back slam against the hard bark of a tree trunk that had to have been at least three feet behind you, your head whiplashing forward and then backwards once again, tweaking the tender muscles of your neck along with blunting the back of your head with the momentum. You weren’t bleeding, at least you were unable to feel any trinkles against the back of your head, but it hurt enough for your eyes to squeeze shut.

Gasping, nothing came to fruition from the pure force you had been pushed back with. Waves of stinging hit your senses and your ears felt like they were whistling at the highest pitch possible. Your horse sputtered to your left, tied to a low sitting tree-trunk for the night as you so often did to keep her from roaming too far during the nights. She stayed close, but with lacking skills at tracking, finding her in the mornings was a proven difficulty for you so you began tying her up a month or so ago.

Frantically in the heat of a hunt, you looked for something to protect yourself with. Something sharp? They were all in your satchel, the few spear heads that a certain Ape had provided for you. Something used more for fishing, but you wished you had one you knew as you could swipe at the figure that was talking to another, taking in stride their plans as you were left rather inebriated from being galvanized against a tree.

You tried again, to more success. You were able to breathe, the air seeping into your lungs feeling more heated as you staggered on your feet, trying to keep yourself balanced enough to address the situation, address whomever had chosen to attack in the middle of the night, your fire barely a crest of orange. From the bits and pieces you were able to recall, feeling a tinge of wetness coming from your ear with a mild curse as you had begun bleeding, confirming that you had hit your head that hard, you were attacked mid-sleep. Whoever this was, sitting in the darkness far enough away that you weren’t able to make out any details, waited until you were at your most vulnerable and then made their move.

Shakily, your hand connected with the side of your face and you wiped some of the blood away from trailing down the trace of your jawline. Unable to move, you focused your eyes on the figures. Three, maybe a fourth. Heart sinking into your chest, your eyes widened with realization. They had to be Apes, there was no other reason to attack you unless they had been stalking you the entire day and chose to attack you when it was going to be the easiest to kill you.

These ones had to be sadistic, pushing you against a tree and watching as you cowered, eyes falling between your satchel on the horse's back, their blackened figures and the dim nature of your fire. They hadn’t allowed themselves the pure satisfaction of gutting you alive and then tying you to the backs of their stallions to display that they were able to successfully hunt a Human. Maybe they were waiting until---

A wall of blood hit your tongue. You must have bitten down on it when you were tossed like a rag doll. Spitting out a bit onto the ground, the figures all looked at you before resuming their mild conversation. Whatever they were saying, you were unable to detect as you dropped onto your knees. Slowly at first, and then faster as you quite literally hurled yourself up, hoping that you were able to get a bit more momentum from a crouched position, start and darted aimlessly towards your horse. You just needed a weapon, something, something.

Your ribs were encased by an arm, but before you got a clearer view at it, you were parallel to the ground and swiped down aggressively, back colliding into the mud with a crunched sound of your body and the mud splattering. Once again, not hard enough to break anything, but it left you breathless as you grimaced, your ribs encapsulating in agony as you drew to breath in again. A gurgle hit the back of your throat, a mixture of your saliva and blood, eyes going in and and out of focus no matter how hard you tried to entrance yourself to stay altered on one fixated item.

“Are you sure this is the one?”

Squinting your eyes at the sky, you forced yourself to take note of the voice. Was it… Scratchy? Chopped around the words as if they were unsure of the pronunciation. Tilting your head to the side, you found yourself with a mouth full of mud as you looked over at the figure who had slowed and stopped your attempt at defending yourself.

“Where else did they get a horse like this? It’s obviously been trained!”

Another voice. Softer, but still hardened around the edges with ferality.

Definitely Ape, you decided and shut your eyes for a split second as you willed your body not to fail you as you turned to rest onto your stomach, picking yourself up onto your hands and knees, the saliva and blood mixture leaking onto the ground from your open mouth now unable to close properly from mild swelling.

Your… Your satchel! One of them was holding it against their chest and in their arms, your mind flashing back to the moment that Noa had given it to you. The brushing of your fingertips against his own as he handed it over, the reserve he held as you analyzed it and thanked him… Well, if you were going to get killed by a few blood-thirsty Apes, at least you had the satisfaction of that being your last good thought, you muttered sarcastically to yourself. It was torn apart, the curdled nature of your cry mixing into the tearing captivating their attention back to you rather than drawing on about the spearheads and the small pieces of dried fish you had managed to ration over the last three months.

Being picked up by a handful of your hair, your eyes braced shut in preparation of coming face to face with the Apes sent to kill you. Wanting to bitterly thank them for taking you out of your misery, you refrained from making a snappy comment and felt your scalp begin to burn as you were lifted enough to be face to face with whomever was grasping at you. Your mouth parted, lips conforming into a low setting frown as you cried out again, reaching your hand up in some desperate attempt to get them to stop holding you by your hair, to get them to drop you. You were pleading to be dropped back onto the ground as your eyes frantically opened so you could meet your demise.

Human. The eyes were human, even for an Ape. If you had the time to think about it, that was true for all Apes. Their most Human aspect was always the eyes, the gateway to the soul, the shattering of gazes against your face. They had to be green, they were always green, you bargained with yourself. The blurred edges of your vision and periphery were not helping your cause as your eyes shut again, sweeping away the notion of tears as sweat now dropped into your retinas causing you to see red and engage in a fiery sensation against your pupils.

This was it, you thought to yourself. You were… You were going to join your friends who had died a year prior, you were going to have to beg their forgiveness for not being able to save them, you were going to have to come to terms with everything that had happened, all the selfishness you had taken for yourself. Gasping again, you couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes, suddenly flushed with the known. They were going to kill you and you didn't want to see their face, you didn't want to give them the pure undiluted satisfaction of seeing your eyes, the reflection of their actions in them as they cut your throat open. Noa!

Noa… You straggled your feet below your body once you were lifted completely off the ground by your hair, aiding in the hurt by holding onto their wrists so all the pressures of your body weren’t just hanging on by the grasp they had on your scalp. Noa wasn’t going to know what happened to you. Not that it mattered anymore, not that he cared as he was the one who let you leave, he was the one to do this to you!!

Your mind was going a thousand miles an hour, you weren’t able to focus on one simple thing anymore. Noa did this to you, he… He wanted you to die, just an Echo, afraid, alone… Tears fell from under your eyelids, draping your face into a muddy piece of art as the streaks of salty water scarred down your cheeks. But you couldn’t stop yourself. The idea still remained. You… You wanted him to be happy. You wanted him to… be… happy….You wished… that he would find someone, someone better than you, someone selfless and not self-absorbed.

“You need to tell us where your little Ape town is,” Your breath caught in your throat and you were suddenly placed back on the ground, this time on your knees. The release of your hair didn't come, but the sweet relief of pitch-black death also didn't take over. “And we might just spare your life.”

Human.

“We’ve been watching you,” There was suddenly a sharpness against your jugular. Knife. Human. “We know you came from that direction. Sorta… Hoped you’d turn back and go home, but you never did. Did the Apes not like their pet?”

‘I’m surprised they didn't just kill it.’ That was accompanied by a few cackles, your lips furling into a snarl at the implications.

Swallowing hard against the blade, you felt it scapple in just enough to cause a bit of prickled blood to surface under the touch. “Let me go.” Straining that out, you found your voice unrecognizable. It was gruff, you couldn’t really remember the last time you had said something other than a passing phrase to your only companion, your horse. Finally, you let your eyes open and you could see who had their hands on you.

“We really didn't want to hurt you.” It was a male. Dominating and strong in stature, his voice dripping with malice and draped deliciously with unbridled possessiveness. He was dark haired and they were set into dreads and tied up loosely with twine - the easiest way to deal with hair now-a-days when washing was so far and in-between.

His eyes… It had to have been your imagination seeing them green because now, even in the dim lighting coming from your dying fire and the scape of stars and crested moon, they were nothing but black. Drawn around the edges to the point of blown out dilation and they scavenged your face, preening at the cuts along your cheekbones, the blistering welt on your lips and the shell of your ear, painted red. “You know, humans are too rare now-a-days, it’d be a shame to kill such a pretty one.”

Yapping once your hair was released, you crumpled onto the ground, back onto all fours as you began taking in deep and shallow breaths. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think, process, REMEMBER the last time you had actually seen a Human, let alone four. Groups were common, you knew that, you had been a part of one and they tended to stick to larger quantities.

There was safety in numbers, you were told time and time again. Your friends--- your… Your friends had been the last ones, their voices so torn and in the distance of your mind that you found it difficult to recall at all how they must have sounded, but you missed their voices regardless. Grasping the ground below with dirty fingers, your eyes widened with realization as his words finally resonated in his mind.

They were… after the Clan. They wanted to know where the Clan was, most likely to destroy. You scrambled on all fours, trying to tear yourself away from the man in front of you, but before you were able to get very far, your calf, the one that had been tenderly cared for by Noa himself, was dug into, your flesh screaming at you as the knife came into contact with the scar that was already there from your Ape attack.

Right through the fabric of your pants, you looked down shudderingly at the jilted weapon embedded in your body. Crying out as the man grasped right below the knife entry point, he tugged you back towards him and ardently flipped you into your back so he could crouch right next to it, staring down at you without remorse or even recourse to any of his actions against the same species. There were stories of Human groups like this - the most radical minds seeking power over the Apes by forms of aggression. You grew up hearing about them, hearing about the Ape Villages and Colonies being torn to shreds with fire and pillage.

You had just assumed it was a way to scare you as a child, to never fall into that mindset. Apes were to be feared, and they would kill you if you killed one of them. There was no way that Humanity would fall that far… That they were willing to take the Earth back by matters of War. Three-hundred years had done nothing, you yearned your hands out in a bid to grab something to stop yourself from fluttering in and out of lucidity. Without words, the knife in your calf twisted to the right, seeping a bit deeper towards the hilt and then to the left, back upwards. Terror ripped through you at the penetration, your shouts being heard and absorbed happily. “Just tell us where it is and we’ll leave you alone.”

A repeated phrase you imagined he said often. You rested your head back, gritting your teeth, “I-I… Do-Don’t know what the hell you’re---”

In one foul swoop, the knife left your body before entering again, this time on the adjacent calf. As your scar had been slightly numb to feeling and felt incredibly pressurized at being cut open again and you were able to bear the brute force of it, this one left your entire body to convulse against the muddy ground, your hands flying upwards to grab the man’s hand to stop the injury, your eyes pressing into each other as your teeth bared themselves and you let out a drilling and agonistic howl.

Your body lifted itself up in a crunch before you splayed back onto the ground and tired to tear away, even going as far as thinking that if you were fast enough to move your leg, you could shatter your entire calf open to get relief from the torture of being stabbed.

“Be better if you just showed us.” He ampled his touch against the knife. “Or, I guess we could just spank your horse and they’ll take us right where we need to go.” His words were confirmation for you. This… Thing in front of you enjoyed the chase, enjoyed the torture. He was so easily able to just get the horse to take him where he wanted to go but you were being beaten instead, unable to relinquish any information and that just made the thrill all the more high for him.

“No!” You whimpered, lifting your body up but the man pressed onto your shoulders with hardness and you were unable to actually sit. “I-I don’t know wha-what you’re talking about, I’m just tra-traveling on my own!”

There was no point in lying but it felt good to say as if you were protecting the Clan itself. Demise was coming, for you, for them… Tears flushed into your eyes at that. The Clan, so beautiful and encased in your memory… In flames, your hands grasping at the ashes and tearing them against your face in a desperate bid to save them. Noa… Noa… He'd hate you, even more than he already did. All his suspicions about you would become valid in his eyes. The fear he had to trust you justified as Humans remarked into his village and destroyed everything he had sorely fought for after his Father passed.

He'd hate you.

Noa would hate you, probably for the rest of his life.

Lips parting as you tried to gasp for some air, you thought... How much you hated yourself.

“Y-you may as well just kill me.” You grunted finally, ashamed of the indication that your words gave. You knew the way back to the Clan, you hadn’t left the area, unable to grasp a concept at leaving what you had known for so long, even before you were offered refuge. Realizing now, you had made a mistake. You should have mounted the horse and trailed off into the unknown. You shouldn’t have been scared, you shouldn’t have been afraid but a smaller part of you stayed in hopes that he’d… He’d…

A coughed cry left your lips as you felt like you were drowning on your own spit. You stayed nearby because you wanted Noa to come for you. In your delusions, he always came for you. Even the first time, even when you didn't know each other and you were so convinced that he was going to kill you. Even now.

Your eyes looked at the man in front of you once more and out of the corner of your eye you swore you saw the fluttering nature of an Eagle perched in the trees of darkness. That close to death, you thought morbidly, that you were seeing things.

It wasn’t the Apes, you realized with momentous waves of sickness flooding all your senses. From the way that your eyes blurred, the way that your fingers and toes felt numb like they weren’t getting enough blood flow, your hearing was shot from the impact your head took against the tree…

It wasn’t the Apes you needed to be afraid of. It was Man.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・ TAGLIST:

@ohwaitimthewriter @hera-annwn @saturnnie-03 @filliandkili

@hadesbabygurl @supergoat12 @moonchild1433

@kaenalsha @unsteady-bitch @whamsworld

@yummyfanta @nuhteyam @babylockley @edynmeyer1  @callsignwidow 

@moonlightnyx

[kxlitz]

omg love your writing its so GOOD

do you think you could do some more headcanons about growing up with devilsh

np if you cant have a good day or night ❤

★ Growing up with Devilish & Being Tokio Hotel’s 5th member ★ pt.2

AN: I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE !!

I decided to merge the requests because they overlap with one another and simply work. I hope this satisfies you !! I’m writing this as a part 2 to my first « Growing up with Devilish/Tokio Hotel » post since it just works!

Warning! Underage drinking and Smoking,sexual themes touched non explicitly, that’s about it. Friendly reminder it’s Tokio Hotel we’re talking about

≛ This is set in 2003 til 2005 right before the release of ddm as it deserves it’s own post.

~ Enjoy your read ~ (not proof read I’m sorry I had to get smth out of the drafts)

Bill was so excited to land that Starsearch audition, he came running to your house once he got the confirmation.

It’s 8pm on a school day and there’s a frantic Bill knocking at your door.

Or window, if it happens to be on the first floor.

I love the idea of your room being on the first floor, that way the boys can sneak in for silly night-ins discussing about the future of your band or watching some disney movies on your VHS player.

Or sometimes you’d sneak in beer, weed, all that good stuff that 12/13 year olds should not be doing but you did it anyway.

Your bedroom was a hideout and safe place, especially for Bill who found so much comfort in you.

The days following to Bill’s audition were spent practising his singing and putting up a killer outfit that would shock everyone.

Not many people had faith in him, but I’m sure you were certain he’d make it.

So when a letter got home after a few weeks saying that he was amongst the best 16 in the country, you sticked out your tongue and middle finger up to the other 3 boys. “I told you so”

When it came the time to interview the band for Bill’s section of the show, you guys knew you’d have to be your best.

Bill helped out picking your outfits for sure. You needed to look cool for the camera. Maybe this would be a breakthrough moment?

You even got to do Georg’s hair, much to his annoyance.

It felt glorious, there was a television team in Loitsche and it was just for you guys. You were the kings of the town for a few hours.

Charlotte, the twins’s mom allows you to come with her to the show. You were so excited to see Bill onstage! (The fandom knew Mami Kaulitz as Simone but she legally deleted that name and only kept Charlotte) (from now on I’ll only refer to her as Mami Kaulitz though)

Once Bill came on stage you knew he was meant to be there, and you dreamed for your band to be able to shine like this by his side.

You were clapping and singing along so happily, the crowd loved him.

The same can’t be said about one particular judge.

When Bill lost he came running into your arms. Poor boy was destroyed. You only had a couple minutes to gather his things and leave so while his grandma comforted him you helped out Mami Kaulitz at getting everything together.

Standing awkwardly by a crying Bill, his grandma and a bunch of strangers while waiting for his mom to finish talking to the host is definitely not your best memory.

Needless to say the ride back home was silent.

Everyone was so proud of Bill nonetheless.

In the following weeks you guys mostly practiced your melodies with the band and tried out new riffs. Bill was quite depressed and refused to get out of his house.

Not even a new outfit, new song or a cool Barbie doll could convince him to get out.

You would physically have to get in and drag him out of bed by his ankles.

Once you yanked him too hard and he fell right on his butt, knocking his head while at it. Tom was wheezing in the back while you tried to help Bill up, avoiding to burst at his misery.

Bill has always been arrogant, so the loss on Starsearch was a big bruise to his ego. You would have to help him rebuild his self-esteem.

Dressing him up prettily and doing his makeup.

Bill would imitate your makeup techniques, he finds you fascinating.

This is how his iconic black eyeshadow look was born.

Overtime it all got better and you guys went back to the routine.

In a way, you’re the glue that sticks everyone together in the band. For sure you’d be a pillar the boys rely on.

Whenever things don’t seem to go the right way you tend to climb on the rooftop and just talk the night away with Georg. You two can have the longest and brightest (sometimes not so) conversations man has known.

Back to the “storyline” Starsearch was not useless in the slightest. Bill’s voice, the band’s rogue look in the interview and the angelic beauty of one of it’s members caught a talent scout’s attention.

Sometime between 2002 and 3 you guys had recorded your Devilish demo, that along with Bill’s appearance in the show had gained you some newfound popularity in town.

Things were still hard but, at least they knew those five losers had talent.

It was a hard and exhausting process til you guys finally signed with Universal. But! Before you could record an album, you all needed some proper training. So during the summer holidays you were accommodated into an apartment with everything you may need.

Now imagine an apartment with 5 young teens living by themselves.

Gustav was in charge of the cooking because if anyone else touched the kitchen you would burn the place down.

Tom has managed to burn water. Do not trust him.

We all know Gustav is a total chef now, but back then let’s be honest.. he could make instant ramen noodles and sandwiches. So most of the time you guys settled on ordering junk.

You guys had sleeping arrangements but it never stopped you from all ending in one room playing video games til the late hours of the night or drinking til you passed out.

Nowadays you guys sometimes cringe at everything you were doing at such a young age.

Parties were strictly forbidden in the apartment so you would all sneak to the nearest park to raise hell. There were no parents to run after you and barely any surveillance around. You guys were free.

You once got so wasted that on the way back home Georg crashed somebody’s window. You still wonder how you never got caught.

There were nights that the place would get so cold that you all ended up as a pile when it came time to sleep.

You didn’t stay like that all night though. You’d wake up coddled against Tom’s leg on the floor as he took up the entire couch. Georg was sprawled on the bed, Gustav rested on an armchair somewhere and Bill made himself a blanket cocoon.

Bill and you still have a very special friendship, so some nights you would both get into the blanket cocoon in the living room and watch some vhs tapes of Nena, Queen and Bowie’s concerts.

Oh and Titanic, for sure. Bill loves the film.

He confessed to you that he was crushing on both Rose and Jack (Bill actually said this)

If you happen to also be in the lgbtq community, you’re in for a queer ride when watching films with Bill.

ESPECIALLY, Labyrinth.

You washed Georg’s hair in the sink once. You never talk about it.

The five of you are oddly comfortable around one another so there was no shame in that.

Nor in walking around barely dressed, making the grossest jokes and acts and being complete degenerates.

The fact Bill mentioned in his book that they’d collectively jack off still haunts me to this day.

You just let them be.

Or join if you’re drunk enough, you be you bestie.

You’re not excluded from the after hour porn binge watching though, that’s like watching the news for you bunch of hormonal brats.

Anything totally inappropriate for your age aside, the five of you have such a beautiful bond. It’s amazing to watch you go.

Of course the twins are a step ahead, but it doesn’t change the fact that as a band and as friends you’re so connected to one another.

You can have more than one soulmate, and the five of you are linked together for sure.

Ok i’m being cheesy.

I’m sorry but Tom was the type to ask you to make out to “practice”

He likes to snatch your bras (if you wear them) and mock you while holding it against his chest.

“Georg next time you take a big shit open the windows and spray there’s a lady living in here” “Look I’m y/n and i’m the best musician in this band” “Pull up your pants you looser”

In return, you have hit him with a bra. How is you weaponize it? I have no idea but you certainly did.

Gustav and you were always the ones to do groceries because if you let the other ones do it, they would come back with anything BUT groceries.

A new turtle for georg, king sized box of condoms, cigarettes, a kiss the cook apron, supposedly haunted doll they found in the trash and a pack of hot wheels toys.

Gustav might be the dad yet it doesn’t take his chaos away from him. He chased you guys around the apartment with a water gun screaming like a madman.

He drums on bowls while cooking it’s cute.

You genuinely had the time of your lives.

But you can’t forget that you were located there for a reason.

Writing music.

Turning this into a series! I’m honestly way too into this idea not to cover the band’s evolution in it’s entirety. The inclusion of this fifth member is genuinely very fun to write and brainstorm about! I’ll mostly write them as the rhythm guitarist as it’s logically the easiest position to sneak into the band. As well as I must say that I am definitely more comfortable writing afab readers but no worries I can and certainly will do male reader <3

See you ~

- Meryl <3

[lunarfleur]

Like He Deserves ~ Earth 42! Miles Morales

Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin @hiyaitssans @enchanting-violet @nagi3seastorm @milesmolasses @luvjunie @n1cole-ghost @urfavnegronerd @hearts4hobie @mayeluvsu

Warnings:Lowkey depressive episode but nothing bad, just Miles being in a slump.

A/N: Me and @kombuuuu were talking about this, so this is my biggest contribution to the fandom.

This is x gender neutral reader!

The first thing Rio Morales noticed when she walked in the door was that your shoes were still there. They weren’t her son’s. She knew that.

She peeked into Miles’s bedroom. The lights were off, except for the candle lit on Miles’s desk. It made the room smell like vanilla. Miles loved vanilla candles. She leaned against the door frame when she heard small mumbles coming from his bed.

You laid on one side of the bed, wearing one of Miles’s t-shirts. He laid next to you while you ran your fingers over his face, pressing kisses over the skin.

“Dad woulda loved you,” Miles mumbled. You hummed in response. His voice was low and slurred, filled with exhaustion.

“Yeah?”

“I miss him, ya know?”

“I know.”

You kisses over his cheek and jaw, reaching your hand up to scratch his head.

“Will you stay with me until I fall asleep? I don’t want to be alone.”

You kissed his lips softly, humming.

“Of course.”

You exited his room 15 minutes later, closing the door behind you softly before walking into the living room. Rio looked up at you. You stopped dead in your tracks.

“Um, I was just leaving.” You forced the words out quickly.

It was 2 hours past the time you were supposed to leave. You had already texted your own guardian about being home late. Miles, however, had not texted his mother. He hadn’t thought.

“Sit with me.”

“What?”

“Come on, siéntate conmigo.” Rio patted the spot next to her on the couch. You hesitantly placed your bag on the floor and sat next to her. She sipped on some tea, leaving you waiting anxiously.

You knew Rio wasn’t fond of you. You just didn’t know why. You were always polite, offering to help around the house, never calling her by her first name. Yet, she was always giving you that same disproving look.

“She’ll warm up to you,” Miles always said. You doubted it.

“So-”

“Miles loves you.” She cut you off firmly, looking you in the eyes.

“I know.” She paused for a moment, only for a moment, before sighing.

“That boy has always been a giver. He gives and he gives. It’s around this time of year he seems to run dry.”

You nodded. Of course you knew. It was around the anniversary of his dad’s death. He missed his dad more than anything. It always had an affect on him.

“I can’t tell you how you feel about him,” she continued, “but if you’re just going to end up hurting him, then I don’t want you to come back. His entire life Miles has given. It’s time he gets something back. It’s what he deserves.”

You thought on it. Miles was always giving. Always offering. He offered to do your homework, to make your food. Never once had he made you feel anything less than loved.

“Believe me, mam. I’d set myself on fire before I ever hurt him.”

Rio went quiet for a minute, thinking about your words. You couldn’t help but wonder what was going through her head.

“My son has a good heart.”

“I know.”

“You need to be careful with it.”

“I’d be a moron to be anything less.”

Rio nodded at you.

“You need to love him like he deserves.”

“I do.”

For the first time since you had met her, she smiled at you. At you. And it wasn’t forced, it was genuine. It was warm. It reminded you of all the times Miles had smiled at you.

“Do you?”

“I do.”

Rio nodded again, exhaling in satisfaction. That was it, apparently. That’s all she wanted.

You stood up, picking up your bag and walked to the door. You had already kissed Miles goodnight. Rio followed behind you. You opened the door.

“Thank you.”

You turned around, humming in confusion.

“Thank you,” she repeated, “for what you do for him.”

You smiled.

“Always.

It’s what he deserved.

[dreamingofep]

Forbidden Love pt. 5 💔❣️

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Reuniting with Elvis was supposed to be the highlight of your summer, but with unresolved tensions between you two, things aren't what they seem. Fem! reader]

TW: Cussing, teasing, little angst, little fluff, SMUTT!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.4k

A/N: Hello everyone! Forgive me for taking so long to write this part. It's been quite busy since coming back from Elvis week and for whatever reason, I could not write anything spicy to save my life. I felt it was so bland and missing something! Then it finally hit me of what this needed heh.😏 I hope this was worth the wait! I'm happy with how this part turned out 🤭

*

You couldn’t sleep that night. Your brain would not shut off and all you could do was think of those damn hands touching you in all the right places. It felt even worse that John was inches away from you fast asleep. You decide to get up and read in the living room to see if that’ll make you go to sleep faster. You needed the space. Sleeping next to someone tonight just felt wrong. 

You turn on the small lamp next to the sofa and pick up something off of your bookshelf. You read the first few pages but you find yourself thinking about Elvis. About his eyes. About his hands. About how good he made you feel without you saying what you wanted. You were upset at yourself for thinking such things. You should have walked out once you found out Dianne wasn’t there. But you didn’t. You stayed and let Elvis take care of every last desire you had last night. 

You grunt frustrated and slam your book closed. You slump into the couch and try to get him off your mind. You must have laid there for hours and nothing was working. Those damn hands were taunting you even when they weren’t touching you. Your eyes finally feel heavy and you doze off to sleep. 

*

You woke up a bit jolted, not knowing what time it was. It was only eleven o’clock and you didn’t work til later in the afternoon so that made you relieved. John walks into the room dressed for the day and looks surprised you’re out here on the couch. 

“What are you doing out here?” He asks surprised.

“I couldn’t sleep last night. I didn’t want to bother you so I came out here to read,” you explain. 

“Mmm, okay. I’m about to head to work. Do you work tonight?” He asks. 

“Not til four,” you tell him. 

“Okay see you,” he says as he goes for the front door. He quickly stops and pats his pockets. “Shit where’s my keys,” he mumbles to himself.  He goes back to the bedroom to search for them. 

The shrill sound of the phone ringing makes you jump off the sofa and run to the kitchen to answer it. 

“I got it!” You yell out. 

You quickly grab the blue phone off the wall and bring it to your ear. 

“Hello?” You say very chippy. 

“Hi, baby. Just the voice I wanted to hear,” he purred. 

Elvis. 

You feel yourself crumble a bit hearing that smooth, tenor voice ring into your ear. He sounded like pure, smooth honey and was intoxicating your veins just getting to hear his voice again.

Baby? God, it was so sweet and endearing. You liked how it sounded coming from his mouth. You actually liked it way too much. Especially when he grumbled it low in your ear as his cock was buried inside of you…

You try to snap yourself out of the delusional memory and clear your throat. 

“What do you want Elvis?” You say low, just in case John comes in. 

He chuckles slightly, “damn, I can’t just call you to see how you are?” He asks coyly. 

You snap, “You didn’t for the last eleven years so I don’t understand why you would start now,” you scowl. There was a long pause on the other side of the telephone. You knew you got under his skin. You honestly didn’t care your words were borderline mean. It was the truth and it still hurt you. Even after everything you two did yesterday, it didn’t make up for the pain of losing a friend after all these years. 

The silence continued and he still didn’t say anything. You feared he might have hung up. 

“Elvis?” You whisper. 

“I want you to come over.” He says. His tone made your hair stand up. This wasn’t a question, it was a command. 

“What?” You hiss. 

“I want you here, now,” he sneered. 

“No,” you snap back, “I’m not going over when John is there,” you explain. It was all too risky. You didn’t trust Elvis to be subtle about anything. 

“I won’t ask again honey. I need you over here,” he says and the sound of the receiver clicks. 

You hotly hang up the phone and put your hands on your hips. This man made you extremely frustrated. Who does he think he is? Ordering you around like you’re just some kid. He had never spoken to you like this. 

But damn it curiosity was getting the best of you. What the hell did he want! What could he possibly want from you? You already told him you were not doing anything… salacious with him. It was the heat of the moment and you swore it would not happen. You were just there twelve hours ago. You were not going to let him have his way again. 

You quickly put a dress on and fix up your hair. 

“John don’t leave, I’m coming with you,” you yell out, hoping he hasn’t left yet. You put on some mascara and lipstick and rush out to the living room. John gives you a confused look. 

“Why do you want to go to Elvis’?” He asks confused. 

Your brain scrambles for a logical explanation. Nothing seemed like a good enough reason and you panic. 

Because he told me to come over and I can’t say no to him. 

“Well umm… that was his housekeeper that called. I forgot my pie plate and she also wanted me to write down my recipe so she could make it for Elvis whenever he wanted,” you say nonchalantly. The lie you constructed seemed good enough. John shrugs his shoulders not really caring for the story but doesn’t protest. 

“Oh okay whatever, let’s go,” he says as he goes to the front door. You sigh a breath of relief that he bought the story and you wouldn’t have to elaborate anymore. You quickly rush to the passenger side and get in, zooming down Sunset Boulevard, not knowing what state you’ll find Elvis in. Is he going to be really upset by your brazen behavior? No, you had to stay firm in your feelings. You can’t just forgive him like that. He can’t just waltz into your life again after all these years and try to act like nothing happened. 

With your wandering thoughts clouding your judgment, you realize you both were about to pull into the rod iron gates of Hillcrest house, seeing Elvis standing out in the driveway with a cigar in his mouth. His expression was blank and unwavering. He wore a dark green shirt and black slacks, with a colorful scarf that hung around his neck. A few strands of hair fell down on his forehead and gave him this dark, brooding look. You take a deep breath and pray this visit won’t be long. 

You try your best to act like nothing is bothering you. That this is going to be a brief visit and what you two did last night will not be even thought about while being under his roof. You nonchalantly walk past Elvis and give the most gracious and polite greeting. 

“Hi Elvis, nice to see you,” you say shortly, giving him a weak hug and walk into the house like it’s your own. He didn’t even hug you back. 

You walk into the cool air-conditioned house and don’t exactly know where to go. You didn’t want to be right in the middle of the entryway if Elvis decided to walk in right after you. You decided to go to the kitchen and actually act like you were getting the pie plate you forgot. 

The kitchen was clean and well-organized. There was lots of natural light that poured into the room and the smell of something in the oven made your mouth water. On the back counter, you do see your cleaned pie plate sitting there. The housekeeper walked into the kitchen and was surprised you were in there.

“Hi y/n what a nice surprise, I wasn’t expecting you to stop by,” she says sweetly. 

“Oh yeah, I’m sorry about that. I just stopped by to say hi to Elvis and get my pie plate from last night,” you explain. 

“Oh not a problem dear, I cleaned it for you,” she says as she goes to pick it up from the counter and hands it to you. “You’ll have to give me the recipe, Elvis was going on and on about how great it is to all of the guys. It was gone by the morning,” she laughs.

Your lie somehow got construed into reality and you don’t exactly know what to say but your nervous energy gets the best of you and you laugh too.

“Oh yes of course! Did you know it’s always been his favorite? I used to make it all the time when I’d visit Graceland. Any party he’d throw, I knew I needed to bake something or he’d pout about it if I didn't,” you giggle. That memory does make you genuinely happy. Those were such good times and wish you could go back and relive them.

“I don’t doubt it, honey. That sounds just like Elvis,” she says gleefully, “Let me grab you a pen and paper. Did you enjoy dinner last night?” 

You pause and have to nervously look always from her. You nod your head at her and try to put on your best smile. 

“Oh yes, it was absolutely delicious! You really outdid yourself,” you try to say even though you didn’t have a bite of it last night. 

It ended up on the floor along with your clothes. 

“I’m sorry about the little accident, we were clumsy and the plate fell,” you try to explain. She flashes you a confused look. 

“What accident? There was nothing out of place this morning when I got here,” she tells you. 

Elvis must have cleaned up the mess he made after you left which left you shocked honestly. Elvis always had someone helping him out with any sort of task. Even years ago, he always had a small group of guys that would go out with him anywhere he went. You see by the size of his entourage now that same principle applies. Even at Graceland, he always had two housekeepers working for him that would do anything he asked. They’d make any meal for him and clean up after him too. It really did shock you she didn’t walk in this morning to find the shattered plates and wasted dinner on the marble floor like when you left. 

“Yeah… umm, Elvis accidentally broke a dish but he must have cleaned it up after I left,” you say a bit timidly. 

“He broke one of the plates? Agh that boy really needs to be more careful! He’s always breakin’ stuff. But I’m glad you enjoyed the meal. It’s one of my favorites to make. I can give you the recipe if you’d like?”

She stops suddenly and looks past your shoulder, wearing a smile on her face, “Oh, hi Elvis we were just talking about you. Is there anything I can get you?” She asks sweetly.

You turn around quickly and hold your breath when you look at him. He was standing closer to you than you were expecting and of course, he was looking criminally good. You shouldn’t be surprised anymore but you still find yourself looking at him in awe. He has a cute smile on his face, the same one he’d give you when he saw you walk in the front door of Graceland. 

“No that’s alright dear thank you. I just wanted to talk to y/n privately if you don’t mind,” he says charmingly.

“Oh of course dear. I’ll be around if you need anything,” she says courtly and walks out of the kitchen quickly.

Now you two were alone again and the tension between you two could be cut with a knife. The way he looks at you… God, those eyes are scorching, blazing with an intense heat. He was like a vortex you couldn’t escape. Why would you? The way his eyes melt into your body and make you feel uncomfortably warm just being in his presence. You watch as his eyes drink you in. Like you’re his favorite drink on this warm June day and he can’t get enough of you. You’re coming to learn that you feel incredibly insecure when he does this. How his eyes are undressing you in plain sight and how he lingers on certain parts of you. You cross your arms against your body so he can get the message you don’t appreciate his rude stares.

“What did you want?” You ask more gently than you did when you asked him on the phone earlier.

He takes a few steps closer to you, not breaking his heated gaze. You back up slightly and huff when you feel your backside hit the counter. You had nowhere else to go and Elvis keeps walking closer to you. He puts his hands on your hips and slowly pulls you into his body. You both sigh and you look up into those big, pleading blue eyes of his.

“I missed you,” he murmurs holding you. He leans down and places a soft kiss on the crook of your neck. You take in a sharp breath when you feel his soft lips touch your skin. You try to hold back the pleased sigh you want to make. He felt too good pressed against you and he knew it.

You push at his chest slightly to get him to look at you.

“No you didn’t,” you mumble. He stares darkly at you, not liking your response.

“Why would I say it then,” he growls. Your heart gallops by his tone and the look he’s giving you. 

“I don’t know. We’ve only spent a few hours together, I doubt it was life changing for you…” You look away quickly, not wanting to see his reaction to that, “I don’t really know you anymore Elvis, have you forgotten that?” You say weakly. You slowly push at his chest more so he gives you space. He obliges and frustratedly ruffles his hand through his hair.

“Shit,” he grumbles to himself as he turns away from you momentarily. You nervously watch him pace the kitchen like a caged tiger, sighing and cursing under his breath. His energy made you feel on edge and you’re not sure if you should leave or if that’s going to make him more upset.

He stops and turns back to you, his eyes serious and dark.

“You regret it, don’t you?” He says shortly. You look at him stunned, you feel the air get sucked out of you.

“No, of course not,” you tell him.

“No, don’t lie. Just tell me. Do you not trust me? What is it,” he snaps a little too loudly for your liking.

“Keep your voice down,” you snarl, “I’m telling you the truth Elvis. I don’t regret anything. You just can’t act like everything is fine between us all because we had-,” you stop yourself quickly before saying it out loud. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the last twenty-four hours. None of this seemed real. His eyes were hurt when they looked at you. He didn’t like how you were dismissing most of the moments you had together so far.

He walks back towards you, trying to recollect himself before speaking.

“What can I do then? What can I do to make you realize my words are genuine?” He asks, bringing his hand to your cheek and softly caressing it. You couldn’t denounce how nice it felt to have him touch you so tenderly. You look up into his hurt eyes and see how he’s waiting on bated breath for an answer from you.

You place your hand over his and gently pull it down from your face.

“By starting to treat me like a friend again. I told you, I’ve missed my friend for so long,” you admit, holding his hand in yours.

He sighs, fluttering his eyes and shaking his head slightly.

“Honey, I’m sorry but that’s really hard for me,” he declares.

“It might take some time, yes, but I think it could be nice. We can start over and catch up. I know there’s been so much you’ve been up to and-,” You start to ramble but he cuts you short.

“No, honey, I don’t think you understand me. I don’t think I can just be your friend anymore I-… I want something more from you,” he insinuates as he brings your hand up to his lips and kisses the back of your hand. Another spark rushes through you as you feel him touch you.

“Jesus Elvis,” you sigh, “No, we can’t. Have you forgotten I’m married to someone,” you say a bit defeatedly.

“No I haven’t, but you’re not happy. Just the way you said that sounded like it’s a burden,” he says bluntly.

You freeze and realize he’s right. You think you’ve felt like this for a while but have buried it deep down inside you. You’ve been so focused on just getting by and not realizing that the foundations of the house you made with that man, the one you made vows to, have detrimentally cracked. 

“Elvis please, don’t make this harder than it actually has to be,” you sigh. 

He pulls you into his arms again, trying to comfort you in any way he can.

“Let me make it easy then. I want you to trust me. I want you to come to me and tell me about anything you need. I don’t want this to be difficult at all. I really think we need to be in each other’s lives at his point in time,” he tries to reason. 

Maybe he is right. Maybe it all comes down to timing. Back in ‘58, it wasn’t the time to be as close as you were so he got shipped off to the army. And even when he came back, it wasn’t time to rekindle your friendship right away. What if it all leads to this moment, in this kitchen, in this house, with him holding you in his arms? Your stomach twists nervously, you didn’t like being out in the open where anyone could walk in seeing you two embraced in each other’s arms.

“Can we talk somewhere more private? I don’t want anyone hearing this conversation or walking by,” you say quietly. He quickly nods his head and motions you to follow him through the house. You prayed he wasn’t going to take you to the bedroom as that would be all too telling what you two might be doing in there. You pull at his arm when you two reach the doorway of his room.

“No please, not in there,” you say worriedly.

“It’s fine honey. No one bothers me in here,” he tells you. You check behind you to make sure no wandering eyes can see you and quickly get in the room with him.

You hold your breath as you take in the space once again. Only one drape was open today and let the golden California sunshine gleam in. You glance at the well-made bed and can’t help but relive some of those moments you two shared there. You sit on the corner of the bed, hunched in stature, not sure where you should start this conversation. 

“I do trust you, you know that right? Even though you’ve changed throughout the years, I know that my old friend is still in there somewhere,” you say pointing at the vicinity of his chest. He smiles because of this and nods his head.

“I’m sorry, but I’m here now. Anything you need, I’ll give it to you,” he says as he takes a seat beside you.

“I don’t need anything from you Elvis I-,” your voice cracking as you feel emotions hit you like a train. “You’re right I-, I haven’t been happy. It's been quite some time since I’ve been truly happy. I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore, you know?” You say as tears start rolling down your cheeks. He gently wipes them away and wraps you in his arms again.

“I do, I understand honey. I’m sorry you’ve been going through that,” he says tenderly.

“It’s not your fault, you don’t need to be sorry,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his body. “It’s just been so hard. We’re barely getting by and my acting dreams are in ruin. He doesn’t care about my feelings or what I want in life anymore. He doesn’t care about the career I want. He is just so bitter towards me. I can’t even remember the last time I was truly content with my life. I hate it all. I hate who I’m becoming... It’s like I’ve lost a piece of myself you know” you sniffle, looking hopelessly into his eyes.

He pauses deep in thought, “yes honey, believe me, I know exactly how that feels,” he says timidly.

He lets you cry, no words being said was the right thing to do. He runs his hand through your hair, soothing you without even trying. He makes you feel at peace. Just the very presence of him has you happier than you’ve been in ages.

“Was I able to take your worries away, even for a short time?” He asks innocently. You lift your head off of his shoulder and look into those intoxicating blues.

“Yes, you did,” you tell him.

“If that’s what you need me to be, then I have no problem with that. I’ll be whatever you need me to be. If you need to cry, I’ll be here to comfort you. If you need someone to talk to, I’ll listen,” he explains as he slowly slides his hand to the back of your neck, keeping you looking at him. “If you need me to show you physically, how incredibly beautiful you are… I can do that too,” he coos. 

Your heart skips in your chest, unable to take what he’s saying. In comparison to him, you did not feel beautiful or worthy of being showered with his praise.  

You sigh, “you know that last part can’t happen,” you say weakly. 

“Baby,” he sighs, caressing you in his arms, and placing soft kisses on your forehead. “Last night was… one of the best nights of my life. It’s something I’ll never forget. I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” he says softly. 

That just about knocked the wind out of you. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you had thoughts about over the years what it would be like to be with Elvis. In some weird way, he knew you had. Especially after he left for the army. Those memories of the night you shared were etched into your brain forever. You’d lay there late at night, remembering how much you wanted him here in your bed, caressing your body and taking care of every last need you had. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you mumble looking down at your shaking hands. You couldn’t handle being this close to him. 

“Please forgive me for how I’ve acted. I should have taken care of you that night. I should have been here, treating you better,” he says, grazing your arm with the softest touch. 

You look back at him and can’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. It was everything you had been waiting for him to say to you. It felt like some weird dream but he was very much real and telling you just what you needed. 

“It’s okay…” you mumble, looking at his lips. 

“I-, honey I want to take care of you,” he whispers. 

You shake your head, “I don’t deserve that honey,” you try to reason. 

“Yes, you do. Let me show you how much I want you. I want you here with me. I couldn’t sleep all last night,” he grumbles, placing his hand on the inside of your thigh. You jump slightly at his touch. It was so alluring and you had to fight to move it higher. 

“I know, I couldn’t sleep either. I was up late thinking about you,” you whimper. 

He squeezes your thigh, liking to hear that you were thinking the same things last night. He grumbles softly to himself when you place your hand on his leg too. 

“What were you thinkin’ about honey?” He asks gently. 

“Just not believing what had happened. That it was real,” you say blushing. 

“I know, I was in a bit of shock once you left,” he says jokingly. He scoots back on the bed with the pillows against his back. He reaches out his hand for you. “Come here baby,” he pleads. 

It took everything in you to fight the want to sit next to him on his bed. This would be the perfect opportunity to leave. Keep it on good terms and keep your clothes on. But he always knows how to pull you in and get his way. 

You go to him and crawl back on the bed where he’s sitting. Before you have the chance to sit next to him, he quickly lifts you up and sits you on his lap. You look at him stunned, not able to move from his very shocking behavior. 

“I just want you close baby,” he says coyly. “What else were you thinkin’ about that was keepin’ you up so late,” he says low, his hand firmly around your waist. His hands felt like quicksand. Every touch and caress made you weaker and melt into his lap.

“I was thinking how much I liked your lips on mine,” you tell him, rubbing his soft lips with your index finger. “And how I loved it when they gave me the most satisfaction I've felt in years,” you sigh. His eyes light up when he hears this, you absent-mindedly twirl the scarf around his neck with your other hand, feeling how soft it is. 

“Mmm, good baby.” He grumbles as he pulls you in for a kiss. There was no hesitation from you, your lips eagerly met his and you two clashed like wildfire. His heat consumed yours and you both ached for more from each other. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. 

He makes small groans as he kisses you more while his hands freely roam your body. You knew you said to yourself you’d try to denounce him, that you swore you wouldn’t find yourself in this situation again, but damn it you loved being in his arms. You pull at his scarf and take it off of him, tossing it to the floor. You sneak your hand into his shirt and feel his soft skin. He sighs and stops kissing you briefly.

“Was I right the other day?” He asks with a serious tone.

“Right about what?” You say a little confused and dazed.

“That you still think about my hands when you’re alone? When you’re touching yourself,” he says slyly, his hand snaking up your calf. You take a sharp breath in as you feel his fingers creep higher under your dress and rest on the inside of your thigh. You make a frustrated groan and bury your face in the crook of his neck, trying to hide the way your cheeks are flushed from the filthy thoughts you’ve had over the years. His fingers creep higher until they find your lace panties, resting his hand there. You squeeze at his arm, fighting the way your hips want to lean into his touch.

You feel your heart beat loudly in your chest and don’t know what to say to him. You just can’t tell him some of the things that have crossed your mind. He’s patient, coaxing the answers out of you as his fingers start to gently circle your clit. Wetness pools in your panties and you’re dying for him to be inside of you.

“Tell me, baby, I wanna know,” he murmurs.

You kiss his neck and grumble frustratedly. You look back up at him and see his pleading eyes look back into yours.

“Yes you were right,” you huff, placing a kiss on his cheek and hiding your face in his neck once again. His fingers continued to tease while his other hand helped spread your legs apart. He lifts your face to look back up at him and he has the most pleased look. 

“I know. I know because I haven’t stopped thinking ‘bout you,” he says as you gasp from the friction he’s giving you.

“God those hands kill me…” you grumble. He hums softly and continues to tease.

You grasp onto his shirt and tear at it frustratedly. You couldn’t handle how much you needed him. His fingers pull your panties to the side and discovers how wet you’ve become and he groans. 

“God baby you need me don’t you?” He asks, his voice low and gruff. All you can do is whimper and rock your hips into his fingers. 

“Yes, I want you so bad. Just like that night,” you whimper. 

“You wanted to ride me, didn’t you?” He asks mischievously. You suck in a sharp breath, not expecting him to ask something like that. But of course, he was right. That’s exactly what you wanted that night. You didn’t want him to stop you from taking off his pants and let you fuck him til the sun came up. You had zero sexual experience then but you were so confident that you could give both of you the pleasure you needed. The alcohol really made you more confident than you should have been.

“Yes, I did. I wanted you to make me feel good but you stopped me,” you say with a hint of whininess in your voice. 

He chuckles amused at your behavior, “I know baby. I’m here,” he says as his fingers tease your entrance. “Come and ride me now,” he groans. 

You grunt frustrated, you can’t take any more of this and need him. You pull at his shirt and unbutton it. You kiss and nip at his neck, leaving lipstick marks up and down it, creating a pleased grumble to form in his chest. The aching need he has created in you won’t go away without his help.

Your core continues to weep with every motion of his long fingers. You groan helplessly as your hand moves lower and gently rubs his hard cock. He groans silently and pulls you in for a kiss. 

“Yes baby, just like that. Please I want you,” he says as he takes his hand out of your panties and finds the zipper to your dress. He slowly unzips it and you get off the bed to take it off of you. His gaze didn’t look away from you. Your heart hammered away as you were about to let your dress fall to the floor. 

You let the straps fall off your shoulders and let it pool at your feet. You quickly glance over at him and watch as he looks intoxicated just looking at you. You cover your breasts with your hand and forearm. Your cheeks burn as he continues to stare and he swings his legs off the bed. He pulls you closer to him and places a soft kiss on your lips, pulling your arm away from your body. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whimpers. You don’t respond to him, you can’t handle him saying those kinds of things to you. He pulls down your panties and caresses your naked body in front of him. You try to get him to take his pants off and get him to look at something else. He stands up to unbutton them and shimmies them off. He doesn’t wear anything underneath and his cock springs free. 

He looked damn good and you couldn’t help but stare at the man. 

He pulls your hand to get back on the bed with him and spreads his legs apart slightly.

“Come here baby,” he coos.

You obey and crawl on the bed with him, straddling his hips. He takes your hand and has you wrap it around his cock. You gently pump it and hear him groan as you do this. The throbbing in your core increased as you hovered over his length and rubbed it through your folds. It didn’t take long to coat him with your wetness and the feeling of him made you even more weak. 

You both lock eyes and see how badly you want each other. He was desperate for you, everything about him yearned for you and you couldn’t deny him anything. He puts his hands on your hips and helps you slowly sink down on his length. You groan as you take the first few inches of him, holding onto his shoulders for support. This felt better than you could’ve imagined, how he filled you so perfectly and made your walls hug him with each thrust. You moan softly as you take him slowly. He has the same pleased look on his face as he looks at your breasts and down to where you both are connected. 

“Oh God,” you cry. He groans in agreement, squeezing your hips tighter.

His hands slither up the sides of your torso to the front of you and squeeze your breasts in his hands. You groan with how this all feels and take a bit more of him. He pushes your body forward and his lips wrap around your nipple. He squeezes your breasts harder and sucks at them more. You can hardly function with him doing this to you. His hips buck up slightly and fills you more, making you groan loudly.

The more his hands moved all over you, discovering new spots you liked to be touched, you grew nervous again like last night and doubts invaded your mind. You were afraid this wasn’t going to be good for him. You weren’t good enough to be with Elvis like this. This wasn’t going to last. You had to be frank with yourself too, you weren’t experienced in this sort of thing. You had only been with one person he was not the adventurous type. You had to face that you were in a sexless marriage. He never asked you for such things from you which made you feel uneasy about a whole other matter you’d have to find out about. Getting on top rarely happened and you hated the way John would look up unamused at you. It made you feel small and unwanted.

 You whimper and pull at Elvis’ hair.

“Honey I can’t do this,” you sigh, lifting yourself off of his length. Elvis’ face is shrouded with concern.

“What’s wrong baby? Does it not feel good?” He asks gently. 

“No, no it does, I just- I’m afraid you’re not going to enjoy it,” you say weakly looking away so he doesn’t see your apprehensive expression. 

He gently turns your head towards him again, caressing your face in his hand. 

“That’s not true baby, I’m loving every second of it. I want you to keep going,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your lips. 

“Really?”

“Yes baby, you feel so good, I can’t get enough,” he almost pleads. 

You can’t believe what he’s saying and see how desperately he wants you. 

He teases you by rubbing his cock through your folds again, making you throb more. You sigh, slowly moving back and forth on his length. Your core ached and needed more of him too. 

“Come on baby, take it nice and slow,” he coos. 

You nod your head at him and your breathing staggers. You hover over his length again and he helps you line up his cock to your entrance. You slowly sink down on him and feel instant satisfaction. He felt like heaven as your walls hugged him tightly and made your head fall back. 

You moved slowly, just like he told you to, and made you both moan obscenities with each thrust. 

“That’s it, baby, just like that,” he coos, rubbing your nipples lightly with his thumbs. His voice alone was going to make you finish quickly if he kept this up. You didn’t know how much you liked hearing how much he loved this. It was addicting. You loved getting praise from him you were soon discovering. 

You kept moving in slow, controlled motions, loving everything about this. 

“Take a little more baby,” he says gently. You nod your head and do just that, filling you more. 

“Oh god,” you whimper. You weren’t used to him still. He was overwhelming with the way he’d fill you in the most complete ways. He lets out a pleased groan, squeezing your hips to still you. 

“Fuck you feel good baby,” he groans as he lets his head fall back to the pillows behind him. You look away from him and your eyes squeeze closed, trembling on top of this perfect man as you slow fuck him. You move a bit more, crying out his name as your pleasure builds. You feel his hand gently move your face toward him and your eyes pop back open. 

“Look at me, Honey. I wanna see your pretty face when you fuck me,” he tells you as he thrusts his hips into you more, pushing his cock deeper. He felt so damn good in this position. His cock pushes on a sensitive spot that could have you screaming his name if you moved faster. 

“Okay baby,” you say weakly, staring into his luring eyes.

You can barely catch your breath as he helps you move a bit faster on him. You scratch at his chest and feel yourself become weaker by the second. You were going to finish soon and he was doing everything in his power to get you there. You cry out for him, begging for him to give you more.

“Takin’ me so well baby, fuck,” he grumbles, sending a pleasurable shock through your body. You loved hearing how much he liked it. You didn’t want him to stop.

“Yeah?” You whimper.

“Yes baby, doing so good. You make me want to cum in that pretty little pussy,” he groans, pushing his hips up and burying his cock all the way inside of you. You moan loudly and you let your eyes squeeze shut. Everything about taking him slow goes out the window and you move faster on him. You put your hands on his chest and fuck him harder.

His hands are firmly squeezing your hips and helping you move on him. He stills you when you’re stuffed to the hilt and trembling with need. He rocks your hips back and forth on him and you feel yourself crumble.

“Elvis oh-,” you whine. You feel your walls flutter around him and you grasp onto his forearms tightly.  

“You’re gonna cum for me, baby. Let me feel how much you love this,” he groans as he pulls you in for a kiss. 

You moan into his mouth as you feel him pound his hips into you. His pace was unrelenting and made your eyes roll back in your head. You tried to muffle your moans but it was no use, every movement had you dying. It only takes a few more slow, deep thrusts and you feel your coil snap. Your walls flutter and squeeze around his cock, making you both groan in pleasure. You claw at his arms and slowly swivel your hips on him as your orgasm rips through you. You let your head fall back, overwhelmed with what he’s giving you.

“Fuck baby that’s right, cum for me,” he coos. You cover your mouth with your hand to muffle the loud moan he just made you produce. God his voice somehow makes you feel more turned on. You feel your core squeeze around him again and he moans your name in response to it. You keep riding him, wanting to make you both feel as good as possible. You see stars behind your closed eyes and feel like you’re on another planet because of him.

Your eyes flutter open and love to see this gorgeous man writhe underneath you. He lets his head fall back and groans with each movement of your hips. Jesus, he looked good like this. You liked it when he looked completely fucked, when his breathing was ragged, and how his eyes drooped heavy with lust. Your body was getting tired, not able to move much more but he was helping you with that. 

You watch as his eyebrows furrow together and his mouth falls open slightly. 

“Oh baby, I’m gonna cum,” he grunts. Your breathing falters and you grind at the base of his cock, stuffing you to the hilt. 

“Cum baby,” you groan, barely able to move anymore. 

He squeezes at your thighs and bucks his hips into you, his length pulsating inside you. You cry out for him and look down at him in disbelief. He somehow felt better like this. You rock your hips back and forth slowly on him and feel his warm seed coat your walls. He curses under his breath and looks at you in shock. 

“God baby you feel so good,” he grumbles. 

“Yes, so do you,” you say lazily. He grunts louder as he feels you grind on him, giving him as much as you can give before your body was too tired to move anymore.

You finally collapse on his chest and cling to him. He tries to soothe you with gentle touches along your back and your head. Both of you struggled for breath and needed to be in each other’s arms. 

You start to lift yourself off of him but he pushes your hips back down on him.

“No baby, keep me inside of you,” he whimpers.

You lay your head on his chest and hear his fluttering heart. He was just as excited as you were. 

You both lay there for a while, calming each other down after all of that. You were ultimately in shock. You never experienced something like this. It was pleasurable, euphoric, and thrilling all at the same time. You never expected him to care so much about you. The way he practically begged for you. The way he encouraged you to keep taking more of him. It was so attractive. You couldn’t get enough of his voice. It was one thing singing, it was beautiful and melodious. But when he was directly talking to you, it was low and gravely, making you a puddle with his cock stuffed inside of you.

You whisper in his ear, “you felt so good,” you sigh. 

He hums softly, “good baby, so did you. I really can’t get enough,” he grumbles. 

“Me either,” you sigh, not believing the words that have come out of your mouth. 

He runs his hands through your hair, “stay a little longer please, don’t run off like last night,” he whimpers in your ear. You sigh, this wasn’t easy to try to say no to him.

You sit up to look at him, “you know I can’t stay long. I have work later and I was only supposed to stop by here to get my pie plate,” you tell him.

“That was the lie you constructed? That you desperately needed to come back here to get your pie plate?” He laughs.

You roll your eyes and sigh annoyed.

“No questions were asked, it was a believable story,” you joked.

“Well I didn’t have a bite of your pie, the guys scarfed it down before I could get a crumb,” he grumbles.

“Oh no you’re gonna starve,” you tease.

“Oh I’m not complaining, I got a taste of something else last night that was quite…delicious,” he says slyly. 

God save me.

“If you want me to stay longer, you’ll have to come up with a good reason this time. I already made up my story to get here, now it’s your turn,” you say smartly. He gives you a cheeky smile and nods his head.

“Okay fine, that’s fair,” he chuckles and pauses to think of a convoluted story to keep you here. He gives you a cheeky smile when he’s got it.

“I want you to bake me something, that’ll keep you here a few more hours. If you don’t, I might just pout about it,” he says childishly and winks at you. Goddamn it he’s good. You laugh softly and sigh, “fine, you win this time.”

He has you wrapped around his finger and he knows it. You didn’t want to let go though.

Tagging:

@loving-elvis @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis

@ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates

@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers

@idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy-

@elvisalltheway101@austinsmutler@kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog

@louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938

@50sexyshadestashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

@sloppiest-of-jos@thisis-theway@gatheraheart

@aphroditebabygirl @faeolwen

[nom-nommmm1]

PICTURES - TOM KAULITZ

Masterlist + taglist form !!

Hi I went back onto old Tokio Hotel TikTok and I think I’m ready to start writing for this fandom again !!

Content warning !!: fluff, sweet n soft!tom x sick!gn!reader

You sat on the couch, waiting for your boyfriend to get home with your soup. You had come down with a cold and your boyfriend insisted on getting you stuff to make you feel better. So you didn’t argue and just sat there waiting for him to return, your eyes becoming droopier by the minute. Just as you thought you were dozing off your boyfriend came through the doorway with a basket.

“Hey babe! I’m home, I could help but get you a little more than just soup” Tom says rubbing his nape. You look at him, examining the basket in his hands. “Tom! I told you I’m fine” you try to protest. Tom shushes you, setting down the basket in front of you. “I’m gonna go make your soup, you turn on a movie and I’ll be back” he smiles kissing your forehead. Tom walks to the kitchen as you stand up to look through your DVD collection. picking out ‘the parent trap’ and putting it into the DVD player. Tom comes back with your soup and some popcorn.

He sets your food down and brings you a drink and cold relief. “Here you go baby, it’ll make you feel better” he says handing you the medicine. You whine, but take the medicine as Tom wraps a blanket around you, lying on your shoulder. He plants a few small kisses on your neck and shoulder putting the popcorn bowl next you guys. “You didn’t have to do this for me” you say looking into your boyfriend’s eyes.

“Nah, I wanted to- that reminds me” he quickly said jumping up off the couch back into the kitchen. He came back with the same basket, showing you all the things he had got. Tom pulled out some clips with little pink bows on them. “I got these for you, they reminded me of you, you told me how you wanted to clip some of our pictures together in our room” he says. “Oh Tom!” You exclaim, hugging your boyfriend. Tom chuckles, putting his face in your hair. “Cmon, let’s go set them up” he says taking your hand, pulling you off the couch.

You smile as he opens your bedroom door, the small Polaroid pictures already on the bed. Tom sits on the bed, patting a spot on the bed for you. You sit with him, opening the picture clips carefully. You get up and take a few tacks, using them to place the clips above your bed. Tom hands you a picture to start the chain. You smile at the picture as you hang it up. One after the other, he keeps handing you pictures. Your smile widens as you see your favorite picture of you guys. “The first date we ever had” you say looking at Tom. Tom melts as he sees the picture. “We were so little, three years ago” he says tearing up.

“Wow I can’t believe it’s been three years since I met the love of my life” you say leaning Tom in for a kiss. You two sit there for a moment in peace before continuing to place the pictures. “Aww Halloween last year, these were my favorite costumes” you say showing Tom. Tom laughs. “Alice and the mad hatter” you smile, getting an idea. “You got a marker?” You ask Tom. “Oh yea baby, sure” he says handing you his red sharpie out of his pants pocket.

You take the sharpie from his hand and make a little heart around you guys. “There” you say as Tom smiles, kissing your forehead. “You’re so cute” he says looking into your eyes, his smile widening. You clip the picture on the wall looking at Tom, taking his hand in yours. “It’s perfect” you say. “It sure is” your boyfriend replies putting his forehead on yours. You yawn leaning into Tom. “Tired?” He asks. You nod still leaning on him.

Tom giggles, picking you up and placing you on the bed with him. You nuzzle up to him once he lays down, putting your face in the nook of his neck. “I love you” Tom says rubbing you back, slightly lifting up your shirt to gently scratch. “I love you too” you mumble, tiredly placing a kiss on Tom’s exposed neck. After a few moments of silence you speak up.

“If you get sick tomorrow it’s not my fault” you say completely serious but Tom breaks down your serious manner with a chuckle. “Baby, that’s the least of my worries. If I get sick then I just get to hang out with the love of my life” he says, his other hand now in your hair. You giggle, kissing him on last time. “Goodnight you dork” you say closing your eyes. “Goodnight cutie” he says scooting closer to you before you both fall asleep.

Hiii! So sorry it’s been so long :(( I’m currently going through some family issues at the moment so please bear with me. But anyways I hope you all enjoyed and I’ll try to upload at a sooner date. Love ya!!

Taglist

╰┈➤@summerraynex @mxqlss @staypositivity @bkaulitzz @adellaonly

[fluentmoviequoter]

Yell at Me and Tell Me You Love Me

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: You distance yourself from Tim because you think he is still in love with Isabel. When he confronts you about why you've been avoiding him, you accidentally tell him the truth.

Warnings: angst to fluff, argument, friends to lovers, the timeline of Tim and Isabel's relationship is probably off but I needed to make everything fit

Word Count: 3.0k+ words

A/N: The first title I typed was "Yell at Me, Tell Me You Love Me, But Don't Push Me Away" and I'd just like to say (a very sarcastic) you're welcome for shortening it. (Unless you like the original, then I'm sorry.)

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

You met Tim Bradford less than a week after he left the Army and quickly became one of his closest friends. Despite the secret kisses shared without thought, holding each other tightly for no reason, and falling asleep in each other’s arms, you continue to be just friends with Tim Bradford. Being part of his life for so long means you’ve seen more than most. You were at Tim and Isabel’s wedding, gave him a place to stay after the divorce, and you fell in love with him without even trying.

Since his divorce from Isabel, you’ve shared a few more thoughtless kisses, said “I love you” before ending phone calls, and slept in the same bed simply for comfort on more than one occasion. You know you need to stop, however, because Tim is still attached to Isabel, as far as you can tell. She calls occasionally, and he rushes to answer the phone, leaving you like an afterthought as the woman he truly loves becomes available again. You’re unwilling to be a rebound or a distraction while Tim works on his relationship with Isabel, but you can’t decide how to set a boundary you don’t want.

It's nearly midnight, and you can’t sleep with thoughts of Tim running through your head. As you consider the idea of simply giving him space, letting him know that you both have things you need to deal with before you can be his friend again, your phone rings. Tim’s name and face light up your dark room and life before you answer.

“Hey,” you greet.

“Hi. I- did I wake you up?” Tim asks.

“No, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither. Are you okay?”

When Tim asks that question, you realize that the only thing you want from or for Tim is for him to be happy. Alone, in the dark, you acknowledge that the only way for him to be happy is if you are willing to move out of the way of what he really wants. If you step away and give him room to work out his feelings toward Isabel, maybe he can find what he wants and focus entirely on that.

Tim says your name, and you rush to say, “Yeah, I’m fine, just- just thinking.”

“You want me to come over?” he offers.

“No,” you answer quickly – too quickly. “It’s late, and I’m really fine. Are you?”

Tim sighs before answering, “I guess. Isabel called today to tell me she’s going back to rehab. She wants me to come by once a week, act as part of her support plan.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“I enabled Isabel for so many years that I don’t know.”

“You’ll do the right thing, Tim. You always do.”

A memory of last week, when Tim kissed you during a walk on the beach, flashes through your mind. Was that the right thing?

“Or you have too much faith in me,” he argues.

“I think I have just the right amount of faith in you.”

“It’s your turn to pick dinner on Friday.”

You see an opening to pull back and tighten your grip on your phone as you ask, “Actually, can we skip this week? I’m swamped and don’t know if I’ll be able to make it. I’d hate to leave you waiting.”

Tim hesitates before agreeing, “Sure. Just let me know when you’re free. We can do whatever you want.”

“I will,” you reply softly. “I’m getting tired now, though, so goodnight, Tim. And good luck with Isabel and your decision.”

“Yeah, thanks. Goodnight.”

You bite your tongue to keep from saying I love you one last time, and as you set your phone down, actively pulling away from your best friend, you want to call him back and ask if you ever had a chance. Instead, you press your face into your pillow and force yourself to think about other things as you fall asleep.

✯✯✯✯✯

You sit in bed and stare at your phone as your finger hovers over the star beside Tim’s contact. When you remove him from your favorites list, everything will begin to feel real. Just as you lower your finger, your phone buzzes with a text from Tim. Three simple words make your heart pound as you read them.

Call me, please.

You want more information before you decide to call him or not. Distancing yourself will be hard enough without Tim vying for your attention the entire time you pull away. Clicking the star so it disappears, you make the first step in separating your life from Tim Bradford’s.

“Please be the right choice,” you whisper, staring at his contact photo. “I just want you to be happy. Happier than I could make you.”

An hour later, your phone rings, and you send Tim to voicemail. If it is an emergency, he’ll leave a voicemail. With each unanswered call and text, the time between them lengthens. Maybe Tim has already realized you weren’t as important to him as you both seemed to think.

By the end of the first day not talking to Tim, you want to scream and cry simultaneously. It’s hard to lose a friend, but harder to lose the one person you love. Reminding yourself constantly that you’re doing it for Tim and his happiness, you don’t give yourself time to think about how much your decision and the distance are hurting you. You knew Tim would hurt for a while before finding his way back to Isabel, but you weren’t expecting to feel like a piece of your heart had been ripped out. That’s what you get for giving it to Tim without telling him, you suppose.

✯✯✯✯✯

After a sleepless night of tossing and turning, someone knocks on your door as the sun rises over Los Angeles. You roll out of bed and pull a sweatshirt over your head before looking through the peephole. Tim stands on the other side of the door and speaks before you can think about pretending to be gone.

“I know you’re here,” Tim calls. “I don’t have a lot of time, just wanted to check on you before work.”

After you open the door, you look out at him and give him a closed-lip smile. He looks at you like he can see straight through you, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he could.

“We made a huge arrest last night and a couple of us are going out tonight to celebrate,” he says instead. “Do you want to come out with us?”

“Uh, no, but thanks for the offer. I’ve got a lot going on right now, and-“

“Like what?”

You tilt your head to the side, wondering what he means.

“What’s got you so busy that you can’t even text me back?”

“I- I don’t want to talk about it right now, Tim,” you say, opting to deflect rather than lie. “But congratulations on the arrest and have fun tonight.”

Tim’s jaw tightens as he nods. You watch as he walks away, wishing you could run after him. As you close your door, you decide that slowly pulling back will not work; if you want to give Tim room to find his way back to Isabel, you must leave him.

Pushing your fist against the closed door, you take a deep breath before walking through your place and gathering everything that reminds you of Tim. After placing it in a box, you shove it into your closet. Next, you turn off the notifications in your phone, so you won’t be tempted to answer when he calls or texts. The hurt of losing Tim worsens with each action as you pull yourself further away from him.

“Please be happy,” you beg as you close the door on your box of memories.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re grumpier than usual,” Nolan notices. “I mean- sorry,” he adds quickly.

“Timothy,” Angela calls. “A word?”

“No,” Tim replies.

“Bradford, now.”

Tim rolls his eyes as he stands and walks to her desk. She gestures for him to sit, and while he should feel like a kid in the principal’s office, he feels more like a man being told his wife is divorcing him and having to maintain a brave face even as his heart shatters in his chest.

“What do you want, Lopez?” he asks. “No small talk.”

“I wouldn’t dream of trying with you, Timothy. I want to know what’s up with you and why you’re taking it out on everyone here.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“You’re making it our business by pushing your frustration, or whatever it is you’re dealing with, off onto us. Is it Isabel? I heard she’s back in rehab.”

“No,” Tim answers, scoffing as he leans back. “It’s not Isabel.”

“Is there any chance that part of you still cares about her, and even if you’re lying to me and yourself about it, Isabel still affects you?” Angela asks.

“No, Lopez. I can guarantee that this has nothing to do with Isabel. She asked me to visit her as part of her support plan and I told her I would think about it, but the ‘source of my frustration’ hasn’t even let me do that.”

“Timothy, just tell me what’s bothering you and maybe I can help,” she offers quietly.

Tim stands as he replies, “You can’t. The only one who can help me with this is avoiding me.”

Angela’s brows furrow as she wonders who he could be referring to. Tim is adamant this isn’t about Isabel, but Angela can’t think of anyone else with this level of pull over him.

“Let me know if you change your mind and want to talk, Tim.”

“Will do,” he answers, though he and Angela know it’s a lie.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Isabel!” Tim calls, jogging to catch up to her. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she replies, hugging him quickly. “I thought you were going to call my sponsor with your decision.”

“I was, and I did. But I also wanted to let you know, in person, that I can’t be part of your support plan. At least, not right now, not after everything I did over the last few years.”

Isabel nods as she guesses, “You feel partially responsible and don’t want to risk letting me fall back into my old ways. I get it, Tim, but thanks for considering it.”

Tim nods, and Isabel can tell something is bothering him.

“You want to stay? Talk for a bit?” she asks.

“I can’t. I’ve got a work thing,” he replies. “Thank you, though, and good luck with everything. I’ll be back by when I have some time.”

“Tim,” Isabel interjects, wrapping her hand around his forearm. “I recognize that look. I only saw it once, and it didn’t turn out well for me. Whatever it is you want to say to whoever it is, just say it.”

“I don’t know how,” Tim admits.

“My take: if she’s important enough to affect you like this, you’ll find a way to let her know what you’re feeling.”

“What if she doesn’t care, Isabel?”

“I can’t tell you what to do, Tim, but I can tell you that waiting too long doesn’t make things any easier… I have to go, I’ve got a group meeting, but, Tim, what’s worth the risk: saying something or keeping it quiet until it’s too late?”

Tim nods before he waves as Isabel turns toward another building. Tim texts Nolan that won't be at the celebratory gathering while he walks to his truck. He knows where he needs to go but doesn’t know how to deal with everything once he gets there. Hopefully, seeing you will give him the right words to say.

✯✯✯✯✯

You broke your heart trying to let Tim be happy and keep yourself from getting hurt in the fallout of losing him. Your house seems bare, every picture and memory of Tim tucked away in a failed attempt to keep your mind off him. A knock draws you out of your miserable reverie. Whoever it is knocks again when you leave it unanswered, the sound harsher and louder than the first time. 

“Coming!” you call.

You open the door without thinking and are surprised to see Tim standing on the other side.

“Can I come in?” he asks in response to your stunned silence.

Say no, your mind says, but your heart makes you step back and invite him inside again. Pushing him away the second time will be much worse, but you can’t seem to stay away from Tim.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Tim says.

He leans against your kitchen counter with his arms crossed, waiting for an explanation you don’t want to give. The whole point of making room for him and Isabel to reconcile (like he wants) was for Tim to figure it out himself.

“Ready for what?” you ask defensively.

Tim shakes his head and scoffs as he tightens his arms over his chest. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? After everything we’ve been through together, you really expect to avoid me without an explanation or question?”

“Everything we’ve been through?” you repeat incredulously. “We’re friends, Tim. Friends stop hanging out when one of them gets busy.”

“Oh, now we’re friends? Were we friends when you crawled into my bed three weeks ago, or when we were making out on the beach? Because that didn’t feel very friendly,” he snaps.

“No, we weren’t friends; I was just a woman who made a mistake,” you reply.

“Am I your friend or am I a mistake?” Tim demands. “Because you can’t seem to keep your story straight. It’s a simple question: why are you avoiding me?”

“If I’m such a bad friend, why does it matter, Tim?”

Tim pushes off the counter, stepping toward you. His jaw clenches, and his biceps flex as he raises his arms in question. You would kiss him any other time, but right now, you’re angry that he can’t just trust you are busy. Granted, it is a lie, but you don’t appreciate the accusation, which is likely your emotions talking.

“I’m not answering your question unless you answer mine,” he says.

“Then I guess we’re not going anywhere.”

Tim looks up at the ceiling before asking, “Why?”

“I’m not going to stand here and argue with you all night. If you think I’m a liar, just say it, Tim!”

“Well, you are the one keeping secrets.”

“So, what, you think I’m avoiding you? Then get out and let me!” you demand.

“And go where? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not surrounded by friends, and I thought you were one of the few I had, but I can see now that I made a mistake.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sorry that your precious, perfect little world decided to turn you into this,” Tim seethes, looking into your eyes as he steps toward the door.

You move with him, chest to chest, as you yell, “And I’m sorry that you couldn’t figure out I love you enough to let you go back to Isabel!”

Tim falls silent, and your chest heaves with anger. You realize what you admitted, drop your gaze to Tim’s chest, and lick your lips before lowering your voice to speak again.

“Maybe I was stupid for chasing after you when I knew you weren’t interested, that your heart would always be with someone else. I thought that someday you’d realize that everything I’ve done over the last few years has been for you; I’ve been chasing you just to find out that I never had a chance.”

“I don’t want to go back to Isabel,” Tim says after a moment of tense silence. “I went to see her today to tell her that I couldn’t be there for her anymore. If I’ve been acting different, chasing after someone, it’s because I’m falling for you.”

“You don’t fall,” you argue quietly.

“You deserve better,” Tim adds. “I don’t remember what it’s like to share my life with someone who cares about me and wants the same thing.”

You nod and try to step back, but Tim moves with you. The couch is right behind you, and you have nowhere to go, so you look into Tim’s eyes.

“I am not in love with Isabel,” Tim repeats. “You really started avoiding me because you thought I was?”

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“You could have asked instead of forcing me to start a yelling match for answers,” Tim replies, his lips quirking up into a small smile.

“I want you to be happy, Tim,” you explain. “And I thought that couldn’t happen if I was in the way.”

“You’re not in the way. You’re exactly where I want you.”

“Where is that?” you ask, leaning toward Tim.

“Right in the middle of my life.”

You raise your arms over Tim’s shoulders, smiling as his hands meet your waist. Tim pushes you against the back of the couch as he kisses you. He moves a hand up to cradle your head as you move with him. This kiss differs from the others; there is a need for more, an apology, and love coursing through you and Tim. Tim pulls back, and you pant for air as he places his hands on either side of your hips and leans forward.

“Just talk to me next time, would you?” he requests.

“And miss out on this? No way,” you argue.

“Don’t seem so excited about getting to yell at me for so long.”

 “You’ve never kissed me like that before,” you say before you distract Tim by moving your hands to his chest.

“You’ve never told me you love me before today.”

“Sorry I had to avoid you for a while to confess it.”

“Maybe we can do it again soon, without the insults before.”

“I don’t know,” you muse. “Insults and yelling are kind of your thing.”

Tim cuts you off, kissing you again and tipping you over the back of the couch. You laugh as he catches himself and hovers over you.

“I love you too, even though you were too blind to see I felt the same,” Tim whispers.

[ninadove]

For any fandom(s): 12, 15, 16, 19, 23! 💌

As always, you spoil me! 💌

12. Compliment someone else in your fandom

GOD I HAVE TOO MANY FRIENDS TO COMPLIMENT

@beezonia comes up with the coolest AUs and designs. I’m always blown away by their Pokémon team compositions — they’re spot on to the point I consider it its own form of character analysis!

@purplecatghostposts is the genius who showed up out of the blue and took us all by surprise with their amazing prose. Soap, reminder that the reference to Copycat in consider the spare legally binds you to pay for my therapy.

@trishacollins is single-handedly remediating to the lack of platonic bedsharing between the cousins and I can’t thank her enough! She’s also one of the chillest and most approachable people I know.

@luckychatons is our favourite entrepunpurr and constantly lifts our mood with the cutest, most joy-filled sketches! Patting her OCs on the back because they sure need it.

@graythegreyt is such an awesome artist you’d almost forget they’re also one hell of a poet who wields mythological references like Odysseus wields his bow. Did you know they wrote me a poem inspired by God Games? I think everyone should know they wrote me a poem inspired by God Games.

@hartwign is a talented translator and draws hair like no one else. Seriously. I want to run my hands through the cousins’ hair and nestle in there forever.

@phieillydinyia is the picture of dedication! Can’t recommend Candle In The Wind enough, it’s a roleswap rewrite of the Miraculous movie that includes the songs. How cool is that. Thank you for your regular comments on my fics, they always make my day!

@alexandriaellisart words cannot express how much I love your depiction of Feligami. Your writing has made me tear up so many times! AND YOUR ART LOOKS SO SOFT AND COLOURFUL. What a double threat!

@faiirygrahamdevanily we need more fics about the Sentiplot as a metaphor for othering experiences and you’re doing God’s… I mean, Duusu’s work with yours!

@bbutterflies did you know your piece for Sentitwin Week is the best characterisation I’ve ever seen of Felix? This is what people mean when they say a picture is worth a thousand words. And of course your Adrino is always brilliant!

@bittersweetresilience not only are you an extraordinary writer, but you’re constantly looking for new ways to express your love. Always GIFing and weaving and canonising tags and making AMVs and running zines… I can’t wait to see what you do next!

And there’s so many more people I’m forgetting! To say nothing of my friends outside the Miraculous bubble! People are amazing!!! 💖

15. The character that always makes you smile

At the end of the day, it’s all about Clive. He’s been my muse for nearly 15 years! 💙🕊️

16 was answered here! 💖

19. Your current fandom(s)

Professor Layton, forever and always. I can’t wait to share my Big Bang fic and the amazing art that I was blessed with! 💙💛

RWBY, even if I’m lurking more than participating… I love love love love RWBY, yet it doesn’t strike my creative and analytical chords the way Miraculous does. Sometimes you just need to let yourself be swept into a story, you know? Although, it did teach me a couple of writing tricks I’ve used for other fandoms!

EPIC! Wisdom Saga coming soon! 🩵🦉 It makes my little mythology nerd heart supremely happy. The music is a banger and you can feel the knowledge and passion of all the people involved in this project. Jorge in particular is always so excited to share his progress, engaging with creators, explaining his musical choices in a fun and pedagogical way… And the lyrics! It’s free real estate for a fanfic author looking for inspiration and/or titles!

I’d love to start Monte-Cristoposting like I’ve been Cyranoposting and Draculaposting, but I’m afraid of spoilers so for now I’m just screaming in your DMs. As you know. I’m also slowly getting into Honkai: Star Rail, and I’d like to pick up Pokémon Black and White again because a N character study would look great on my AO3 resume.

And of course, Miraculous! 💚💜❤️ It’s the most creative I’ve been in years and it’s all thanks to these sad beautiful silly genius kids. Heart emoji, peacock emoji, sob emoji, etc.

23 was answered here!

Thanks for the ask! 🖤🪶

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ scenarios | dating negan

♡ fandoms; The Walking Dead

♡ characters; Negan Smith

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; explicit sexual content

♡ notes; in case anyone forgot i’m technically not a dedicated slasher blog

i put this in sections so i didn’t have to make more than one post lol . also these take place while he’s still the ruler of the saviors. i’ve been obsessed since his first episode oh my god that’s eight years of hyperfixation so that’s usually where my brain goes plot- wise

i’m thinking Billy Butcher is up next? lmk who else we wanna see, Garcia Flynn from Timeless is probably too niche? but i love him so so much

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

I. Kisses/PDA

> negan is an affectionate person

> with his wives it’s just for show- they’re hot, and he wants all his followers jealous of his lifestyle

> but with you, it’s different

> his wives don’t like him, per-se. he’s convenient to be married to and easy on the eyes, but they’re cold to him

> and he knows why, he doesn’t really give a shit. especially now that he has you.

> you may not be his spouse- you’re sure as fuck not letting him call you that without a ring- but he’s even more physical with you

> standing by him? hand on your back. sitting? you’re on his lap. look cold? he gives you his jacket and keeps you tucked under his arm

> “i just like takin’ care of you darlin’”

> and he loves kissing you in front of others- from little pecks to long, lingering kisses that makes other people look away

> he seems possessive, and he doesn’t mind people pointing it out

> it’s not that he doesn’t trust you- it’s never that

> he trusts most of his men too…maybe not simon. because simon loves staring at your ass

> but he’s proud. he’s proud you’re his, and he’s yours, and that he gets to show you off

> and like hell he ever lets anyone forget it

> alone he acts like keeping his hands off you is impossible

> he smacks your ass any time you lean over, pulls you into big bear hugs from behind and randomly pick you up

> he doesn’t ever want you to doubt his feelings for you, and physically is the easiest way for him to show it

> he’s very sexual, big shocker

> but his favorite kisses are sleepy kisses

> you wait late into the night when he’s due home from terrorizing his territories

> some part of you is afraid one day he won’t come home- so you always wait

> you’ll be exhausted, rubbing your eyes and yawning and usually wrapped up in a blanket

> but no matter how long he takes directing his men and double checking inventory and dealing with the dead

> “hey there, baby doll”

> you always run straight into his arms and bury your face in his chest. he’ll laugh and pick you up, kissing you gently before he carries you to bed

> most times he falls asleep on top of the covers with you, eager for the morning when he can make it up to you for being gone so long

II. Sharing a bed

> negan isn’t used to sharing a bed anymore

> the wives have their own rooms just down the hall, and so do you

> no reason for him not to give you at least a little space

> and having a room is the height of luxury in the sanctuary anyways. it’s a perk of dating the boss

> but you don’t know how to tell him you do want to share a bed, even though you’re barely apart when you’re awake

> so you just…don’t. you assume it’s a boundary he wants to keep and don’t mention it

> until the night terrors start up again

> you’ve seen a lot of people die a lot of different ways. most of them people you cared a lot about

> the memories always seem to come back in your dreams no matter how far back you push them

> when you’re woken up by one in the middle of a harsh storm, it’s just a bit too much

> you just can’t stop crying, and it’s loud and you need held. you need him.

> you creep as quietly as you can down the hall, and you hesitate at the door until the thunder crashes again

> when you stumble in he sits up fast with a knife in his fist

> then he gives a slightly annoyed sigh in recognition, relaxing

> “the hell are you doing?”

> “i just- um-“

> you can tell he notices the wobble in your voice and opens his arms up without another smart remark

> “hey, hey, i’ve gotcha..”

> he doesn’t ask questions- you don’t cry for nothing. and he gets nightmares too

> falling asleep in his arms feels natural…so natural it becomes a habit

> and he sleeps better with you too, curled around you and holding you so tight you think he might be worried you’ll disappear

> it’s less than a week before you stop using your bed altogether

III. Let’s get kinky

> he’s happy in pretty much any dominant role, whatever you call him is good enough for him- daddy, sir, master, etc

> and he likes when you call him whatever it is in front of his men

> the only chance of getting your dick/strap in him is if he power bottoms. but 95 percent of the time? you’re receiving and it’s big

> he likes being risky. he’ll take you out to visit settlements just to have an excuse to stop and fuck you in the car

> or even in a house there, just a room over from his men and gagging you with his fingers so you don’t get caught

> not that he’ll care if they catch you anyways

> he has a nice big office- half of the reason he uses it is so he can have you on his lap as a cockwarmer while he reads or looks over inventory numbers

> the other half is so you can suck his dick under the desk while he talks to simon or dwight

> (simon is a raging pervert so he definitely knows, too)

> he loves fucking your face, watching you get all teary eyed and drooling all over yourself from taking his massive cock

> “oh look at the fuckin’ mess you’re making!”

> he’s generous though- he loves reciprocating oral

> and he loves overstimulating you too- whether that’s by edging you for hours or just making you cum again and again and again

> he loves taking you from behind, pushing your face into the mattress and gripping your hips so hard they bruise

> but he also loves when you ride him slow, gasping quietly as he watches you fall apart completely for him

[lookingfts]

Friday Fic Rec 9/20

Thanks so much for your submissions! I actually got so many that I’m going to save some for next week, so if you don’t see something you recommended, I will include it later!

Titles are links to each fic.

can’t turn back now by idkmanokay

"This mob boss Anthony and BAMF Kate is absolutely amazing. I love it when they match each other’s freak a thousand percent.”

Description: anthony inherits his father’s empires and finally meets his match in a secretive kate

WIP (12/14) - E - 64k words

So Help Me God by writesforpleasure

“It’s a very interesting story about Kate and Anthony as camp counsellors at a religious summer camp!! It addresses themes of religious guilt, atheism and God, from their perspectives.”

Description: Kate, Anthony, and company navigate American Christian summer camp. What could go wrong?

WIP (5/?) - NR - 14k words

An Inconvenient Arrangement by @doodlingaway

“This story is set after the Sheffield dinner. What if Anthony was honest with Edwina regarding their loveless marriage? And then Kate proposes a marriage of convenience. Chaos ensues. It's a brilliant emotional revelation. Really anything by this author is A+!”

Description: After the Sheffield dinner, Anthony is struck by Kate’s mention that he would break her sister’s heart by calling off their engagement. He decides that a conversation is in order between them to clear the air, which goes about as well as you might expect. Kate is left to pick up the pieces and find a way forward for her family. Which, most disconcertingly, might just involve the one person who has caused all this pain for her family to begin with.

Complete - T - 18k words

bloom by antematter

“An oldie but a goodie. I just reread this as antematter has been pumping out hit after hit these last couple of months. Every one of her stories is stunningly beautiful, but this one was the OG for me. I still remember reading it the first time round in complete awe and waiting so anxiously for the second chapter. It was my first soul marks fic, and I’ve been in love with the trope ever since. Antematter is a fandom gem!“

Description: Kate is born with a single tulip on the inside of her left wrist and a red lily on her right. This in itself is not particularly unusual. a soulmates au

Complete - T - 7k words

dowry by afreenafreen

“Dowry is a masterpiece, a fic focused on Kate's feelings after Anthony's marriage proposal to Edwina, but the difference is that although Kate is destroyed, she also feels freed when Anthony refuses any dowry and with the added bonus of a friendship between Kate and Dorset.”

Description: She is glad that Edwina managed to find a good match for herself - despite all of Kate's meddling and disapproval and interference. And after she goes home and hands the settlement papers to Mary with careful instructions regarding its notarization and safekeeping, she must congratulate her sister as well, sweetly and sincerely, and wash her hands off the entire affair. For she has now been set free.

WIP (5/10) - M - 28k words

A Promise Made In Haste by @waterlilyrose

“Hands down the best take on the 'What if Anthony married Edwina' premise that I have read. It's a very slow burn as the author takes the time to actually navigate regency era divorce (taking some liberties, of course). A really spectacular, thorough journey to their HEA.”

Description: An AU where Anthony actually goes through with marrying Edwina and Kate actually goes back to India. And Anthony and Edwina (after maybe a year or so into their marriage--which is going miserably by the way) go to visit her in India.

Complete - E - 107k words

time makes fools of us all. by limeny

Description: Kate gave her sister the most exasperated look she could manage in a fuzzy pink sweater. “Edwina Sharma,” she scoffed. “What on Earth possessed you to say yes to a loser that would allow a bored widow to play matchmaker for him?” A modern AU love story in the span of a year.

Complete - M - 20k words

LFTS rec: Kate the Virgin by @rosesatdawn24

Such a fun plot for our two dumb lovebirds. Sweet and sexy and you don’t need me to tell you that my girl Rose is an absolutely amazing writer.

Description: A Jane the Virgin AU

WIP (16/40) - E - 32k words

Thanks to those who submitted! Keep your recs coming! You can find previous weeks under the "lfts fic recs" tag.

[helloporcelain]

Hot Blood

fandom: cyberpunk 2077  pairing: johnny silverhand/fem! v  rating: explicit (18+)  tags: pwp, piv, thigh riding, light choking, happy ending au where johnny has his body/v is not dying summary: car sex on an extremely hot summer day in a cramped car before a gig to shoot up some wraiths? bad idea, probably. ∘°∘♡∘°∘ READ ON AO3 ∘°∘♡∘°∘

based off a prompt from @seeingstarks

The heat was relentless out in the Badlands when September rolled around. 

The temperature easily pushed over 103°, and sun rays were beating down aggressively on top of Johnny and V through the top of his car. A Porsche wasn’t made to be driven around such rough, uneven terrain, but Johnny had insisted on it. He loved his retro car as if it was a long lost daughter he finally had been reunited with. A little whirring, mechanical child on wheels from 50 years past. 

V typically vetoed no to the Porsche for gigs, but it had been a while since Johnny had driven them both and the job didn’t seem like it would be too driving heavy, so she relented and let him take the wheels. He really wasn’t the best behind the steering wheel, at least not since he had gotten used to an actual body (not that Johnny would ever admit it) and V preferred that Johnny got some practice out in open land and not run over innocent jaywalkers in the city. 

It was, however, definitely not V’s car of preference.

For one thing, it was a small car. V wasn’t a large woman, so why did she feel suffocated in it, especially if she was packing heat? It felt as if there was barely room for her to stretch her legs out, nevermind hauling a bunch of gear, guns and grenades around in there without setting something off and blowing them both to sorry bits. 

But Johnny didn’t seem to mind – it was one of the few times the muscles in his shoulders relaxed, which made the decision to let him drive it worth it in the end for V. Johnny had carried around a tenseness in his body ever since he came back, always on edge. He did his best to hide it, and if V hadn’t shared a brain with him, she might not have noticed. Johnny hadn’t fully believed he was worthy of a second chance, but V had believed nothing else more intensely. 

Still, she regretfully contemplated the decision as sweat dripped down her forehead, onto her bare lashes. He rolled the front windows down to get some kind of breeze because the AC was weak. V had been bugging him to get it fixed for weeks but Johnny had stubbornly snapped that he didn’t “want some fucking Night City idiot fucking around with his car.” 

V wiped her damp forehead with the back of her palm and let out an annoyed huff, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. She had picked out some denim shorts that day, yet it was still too hot and now she had to experience the displeasure of her thighs sticking slick to the leather material. 

“Toughest solo in Night City,” Johnny drawled, looking at her over his sunglasses. “But she can’t handle a little heat.” V pulled a loose bra strap back up on her right shoulder and raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I get that you’re already going to hell Johnny and okay with this heat hellscape, but some of us would like to not be slowly cooked to death.” She paused, reading something on her holo and continued, “I already messaged Claire and she’s going to fix it and you’re going to let her do it without complaints.”

Johnny grunted in disapproval but didn’t put up much of a fight. Instead, he looked out the window and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in rhythm to an old rock song she was not too familiar with. Everything that mattered to Johnny was rooted in nostalgia, and V was included in that now.

He pulled up to an abandoned gas station just outside of Rocky Ridge and parked the car behind the building just slightly so that they would still have a view of any cars coming down the road. The gig would have Johnny and V wait around 30 minutes before the targets – Wraiths – rolled in as sundown approached. 

Kill them all and make out with some equipment that Saul needed. Simple gig.

V groaned, tossed her seatbelt off and reached towards the dashboard of the car to tinker with the AC settings – with no luck. The little bursts of air coming through felt like pathetic little hiccups, and her entire body was dripping in sweat. Johnny leaned back and watched as V jabbed her fingers at the console for a solution.

“You wouldn’t have survived a day in Texas, princess,” he muses, shifting his seat back. “Get used to it, we’re going to be cooking here for a minute till those motherfuckers roll in.” 

V gave him a cranky scowl. “Your obsession with this car is concerning on a fundamental level.”

Johnny opened up all the windows and pulled out a cigarette to light up, and V took a deep breath in preparation for the smoke that was about to cloud her senses. After a deep drag he let his left arm hang out over the door and she continued on her rant. 

“You have the most advanced cars in the world at your fingertips, and yet you prefer…” her arms flung wildly around the little space available. “…this stupid broken car!”

V caught a glimpse of how she looked in the mirror and she definitely looked a little crazed. Her cheeks were flush with pink and her usually pin straight hair was turning frizzy. Johnny was right, she wouldn’t have lasted even an hour in the humid Southern summers. She looked back at him and took in his appearance. Sure, Johnny was sweating too, but he looked unbothered. He had chosen to wear his leather pants regardless of the weather that day and he didn’t even look like he was struggling with them. 

At that exact moment, she resented how good he looked.

“I take offense to that V. I’ll have you know…” Johnny took another puff of his cigarette before offering it over to V. “This was a fucking chick magnet.” She accepted it and begrudgingly started to smoke. He wasn’t a part of her anymore, but the cravings still hit her if she saw Johnny smoke first. It was exactly what she needed, and she felt herself relax slightly after the first exhale.  

“Oh boy, here we go. Gonna regale me with stories of your drug addled sexcapades?” She took another long hit, quickly put it out, then tossed it out the window on her side of the car. “I know they were desperate for some rockstar dick, but I highly doubt they actually enjoyed the cramped experience. Only teenagers fuck in cars.” 

Johnny gave a crooked smirk. “Au contraire, V. Au fuckin’ contraire.” His hands went to the sign of his seat to pull it down, taking up more of what little space was left in the backseat. He leaned back and put his arms above his head, and closed his eyes in a show of shush, I’m daydreaming now.

“Fucking preem experience having a chick bounce up and down on me in here. Such a compact space means you’re forced to fit all up against each other, and it’s tight. Doesn’t get old.” 

V fiddled around with her rifle, making sure the bullets were all loaded. She rolled her eyes at him, but her curiosity was piqued slightly. It was an automatic reaction, something she couldn’t control even when her mind signaled: not now ! The second Johnny started being suggestive at all – V couldn’t help it – her body would react without her brain’s explicit permission. 

They had already fucked twice that morning; sleepy, leisurely sex in bed, then he had come up behind her in the bathroom while she was drying her hair and had bent her over the sink. Not that V was complaining. Johnny had been insatiable ever since they had settled into “normal life”, but she never entertained anything during a job. She was a professional, after all.

“Sure,” she said, giving her gun a wipe down. “I bet they loved bumping their heads and getting thigh cramps.”

Johnny responded by taking the rifle out of her hands and pulling it out of her reach. She made a noise of surprise and tried to rustle it out of his arms but no luck, her arms were short and he was leaning back with it. “You won’t get it back from there,” he commented.

“Not funny Johnny,” she scolded. “The Wraiths could be here any second. Give it back.” 

“We know when they’re coming, V. Saul has their routes down to a fucking T.” 

His eyebrows wiggled annoyingly in the direction of his lap, signaling for V to climb on top of him  to retrieve her gun. Her lips went flat in disapproval for a beat, before she twisted her body around, scaled over the drink holder and gingerly into his lap. “You’re so pea-brained,” she said. 

The space was cramped, though it did help that his seat was leaned back a bit. She could feel the heat against the thick material of his pants permeating against her legs. Her brain paused on the sensation against her, before reminding her why she was on him in the first place and she leaned forward to grab her gun. V failed to grab it – Johnny quickly tossed it behind the back of his chair, too out of the way for her to retrieve it in the current position.

“Dick,” she grumbled. V tried to move over him to reach behind, but his hands found their way to her hips and he squeezed down firmly, keeping her pressed against his right thigh. 

“I think I might love summer,” he said. She squirmed against his hold but he just held her down tighter. Johnny’s cock hardened and strained against his pants. “Know why? Because you wear these hot little shorts like the fucking cocktease you are.”

V’s eyes glazed over briefly as she checked the clock out of nerves – they still had 20 minutes before any of the Raffen Shivs were due to show up, but she wouldn’t apologize for being too sure. She snapped out of the thought as Johnny groped at her tits, rolling his thumb over a hard nipple through her white tank top. “One hell of an outfit to wear to a possible shootout, V.”

He leaned forward to kiss her mouth, before trailing down to her jaw and neck. She looked down at him, her heart rate increasing quickly at the thought of fucking him. It would be stupid. It would be reckless. 

“I didn’t wear this to get your dick hard idiot,” she breathlessly replied in between his wet kisses. “Earth to Johnny. Normal humans dress appropriately for the weather.” 

“Then take it off,” he shrugged, tugging at the cotton material. V let him pull the top off over her head, tossing it over to her seat. Johnny didn’t have her take off her bra, instead opting to pull it down so that her tits popped out over the cups. He leaned forward to take a nipple in his mouth, sucking and twirling the nub in his mouth, all the while palming his cock through his pants.

If V was pink earlier, she was full on lobster red now between the heat of the car and the flush of the grind against his leather pants. She had opted out of underwear that morning, mostly due to having put off laundry for so long that she ran out of panties. And now that decision had come back to haunt her as every twitch against him ran a shock through her clit, begging her to roll against him harder.

Johnny let go of one breast and moved onto the neglected side, biting down on the nipple. She let out a whining sound of pleasure as she held her arms against his headrest and rocked against him faster. “Fuck. God damn it, Johnny.” Her clit was growing swollen against the denim fabric of her shorts and the clumsy pace of her fucking his thigh. 

He pulled away from her chest and a hand moved up to finger his old dogtags that she wore, which were now jingling in rhythm with her grinding. “That’s my girl.” 

His fingers wrapped around her throat and gently squeezed. “Yeah, that’s right, baby. Use me. Make yourself feel good.” She let out a choked moan when her clit passed over some kind of raised, ridged material in his pants. 

She rolled her hips against him, angling to make sure her clit continued to hit the same spot again and again. Johnny wanted to fuck her, badly, but wanted to watch her come apart like this even more. V’s body was slick with sweat, and he knew she would find it annoying in the aftermath, but Johnny loved how completely natural of a state she was in. 

Something organic, something real, and something only his to witness.

“So fucking sexy baby. Should see yourself right now. Making a mess on me. Could cum just looking at you V.” 

“Idiot,” she gasped. V worked herself at a frantic and shameless pace, and he pulled her face closer to his so he could kiss her. She could feel the pressure building in her soaked cunt, letting out moans that were muffled by Johnny’s mouth. The kiss was messy as he sucked on her tongue and their saliva dribbled down her chin. 

V lurched forward when her orgasm came crashing down like a lightning bolt, her climax shaking throughout her whole body. V’s hips bucked against his leg as she rode out the rest of the wave, completely engulfed in the embrace of his arms, face buried into the crook of his neck. Johnny was drenched in sweat too, smelling vaguely of soap, but mostly smoke. 

After a few seconds, Johnny chuckled and brushed V’s damp hair away from her forehead. She was distinctly aware of the painful erection he still had straining against his pants. “My stupid broken car still has women creaming their panties 50 years later.” She nipped at his neck and shifted her body up against him to press on his hardon. 

“That’s where you’re wrong, Johnny. I’m not wearing any panties.” 

Johnny let out a groan and his hands squeezed her shoulders, pushing her back down on him. One of his arms shot to her shorts and pulled at the zipper ungracefully. “Get these off,” he growled. V leaned back and looked beyond the car towards the road. Still empty, but her brain issued a huge red flag at the thought of rogue nomads popping up behind them and popping one in their heads…

She could picture the tombstone – RIP V, she died doing what she loved most: Johnny Silverhand. 

Ugh. Bad idea, V chided herself silently. 

Then she said it out loud too, still not entirely used to him not being able to hear everything she thought. “Bad idea, Johnny. We don’t have time.” 

Johnny went to work on his zipper, tugging his cock free from the restraints of his oppressive pants. He started slowly stroking and she couldn’t see his eyes through the lenses of his dark glasses. “V, you can either ride my cock now or I’ll jerk off and you can walk back to camp with cum on your shorts. Your choice.” He stroked faster and his eyebrow furrowed as she considered the decision with 15 minutes left on the clock in her head.

It was awkward to lift herself up from him to take her shorts off but she managed to peel them off and fling them to her seat. She wasn’t confident it was very sexy to watch her do this, but Johnny was still intently watching her as he masturbated, and she suddenly was very aware of the hot air on her naked lower half. 

V tried to look down between them as she lined his cock up with her entrance, letting the tip slide between her folds. Johnny was already leaking precum, and before V got the chance to lower herself, he grabbed her waist and yanked her down to sit on his cock. Her eyes popped wide as he sat her down all the way, no space, not an inch in between them. 

“Johnny,” she gasped. 

“Ride my cock V, need to feel every fucking inch of your pussy.” 

One of Johnny’s arms curled around her waist, the other one landed on her thigh as he slammed her down onto his dick. V readjusted the angle so her legs weren’t caught in any tight crevices, and when she was finally comfortable she started to move quickly against him. Johnny groaned when he felt the fullness of her weight, the tightness of her cunt fully engulfing him. 

“Love how needy you are for my cock V, fuckin anywhere, anytime, my fucking girl.”

Johnny was barely holding it together. His glasses were rocking about, threatening to fly off with each violent slam that V pushed down on. Her wetness was soaking through everywhere, mixing with their sweat, making the car smell like a hotbox of pure sex. 

“Fuck, Johnny, you know I can’t say no to you,” V panted, holding herself steady. “You’re– so fucking deep.” She spread her thighs a bit wider, as much as the space allowed, Johnny clutched her tight as he continued his rocking pace against her, so profoundly deep inside she thought she may have felt it in her stomach.

His hands were digging into her so hard it was going to leave a bruise after. V was so tight, Johnny groaned like a man who was in the process of losing his mind. “Fucking made for my cock. My fucking perfect cocksleeve.” 

V leaned in to capture his lips, biting down on them to make them bleed.  She had to admit: no matter how many times they fucked, she still got the same butterflies that lurched in her body with how they fit perfectly. As if it was proof that there was a God somewhere and he did actually craft their bodies with the intention of them finding each other, somehow, half a century apart.

She held him against her as she began to rock her body, her clit rubbing against his body with every roll of her hips. Johnny groaned as they kissed, and V knew he was close to coming. His hands wandered down to grip her ass tightly, impaling her down on him with more force than she could hope to do on her own. “Johnny,” she gasped. “Need your fucking cum in me.” 

Sweat rolled down their bodies like droplets of rain. The combined body heat was making it hard to breathe, but she let her hands wander to his throat anyway. V didn’t do the choking too often, but thought herself a giver sometimes. Johnny was close, his fingers were digging a death grip into her and his pace was becoming erratic. She closed both her hands around his throat and squeezed, holding her gaze on his face.  “What’s taking so long, you want them to see me riding your cock babe?”

A grunt of approval resounded deep in Johnny’s chest. V’s toes curled as she felt him impale into her once more, a sudden and violent rope of cum shooting into her core. She choked Johnny a bit harder as she slowly rocked against him, taking in the feeling of her pussy milking his cock for every drop. One hand left his neck and wandered down to feverishly rub at her very swollen clit, her orgasm crashing down quickly in sparks. Johnny and V clung to each other, skin sticking to skin; neither one wanted to be the first one to get up from the mess they’ve left. “Eight minutes,” she finally said, breaking the silence.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you were constantly checking the clock the whole time, because I did, you little control freak.” Johnny replied, fidgeting with his glasses. She leaned back to put her tank top on and laughed. 

“One of us has to try and keep us alive,” she smiled. They both looked at each other with soft eyes until a loud sound in the distance caused them to stiffen up. “What the fuck was that?” They both whipped their heads around and craned their necks to see a gaggle of trucks looming back in the gas station. A couple of heads were pointed their way, some shouting and pulling out their guns. Johnny sheepishly watched as V frantically hopped over to her seat to pull on her shorts.

“Fuuuck me. What did I say, Johnny? What did I say!? Any second!”

V was in a fit of panic, and all Johnny could offer up was a shrug. "Saul was wrong." 

She slapped his forehead (to which he simply responded: ow) and haphazardly threw out a grenade in the distance, hoping it would buy them another few seconds. 

“Pass me my rifle. Now.”