#and just contemplating why people are the way they are and how much is sort of hardwired vs learned etc.

[forever-rogue]

you asked for fallout request, so here i am, eagerly writing this…

i’ve been craving a cooper howard x reader oneshot where him and the reader are navigating through life in their own way. maybe a run in with tricky people?? angst?? fluff??? it’s up to you best friend. THANK YOU!!!

AN | Alright, let’s goooo. First go around with Cooper and we had to go with some fluff because that is my specialty. I’ve loved Fallout for a long time and I love the show too❤️

Pairing | Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x fem!reader

Warnings | language; gun violence

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You weren't sure if you'd call yourselves friends.

More like…an unwitting duo of sorts. Unwitting on your end more than anything.

You'd promised him that you absolutely didn't need company or anyone to assist you. He'd insisted that the only way he'd let you go on your own was over his dead body. You'd contemplated that idea for a few moments. Given his reputation, you decided not to push him too much.

The realization that he was a stubborn old man who wasn't going to change his mind was the only reason he was still next to you. Begrudgingly, mind you.

“How much further, darlin’?” His deep voice cut through your internal monologue and you shot a glare in his direction, “I'm starting to think you're not the best judge of distance.”

“If you're just going to complain,” you pointed over your shoulder back to the last town you'd passed through, “you're more than welcome to go back and terrorize that town. I told you that I didn't need you to come with me.”

“And why would I listen to you, huh?” He rolled his eyes lightly as you scoffed, “you'd be dead before the sun went down, sweetheart.”

“So what?” You turned on your heel, walking backwards so you could face him, “why do you care?! You don't even like me!”

“Contrary to what you believe, I do have somewhat of a conscience,” his voice was gruff but somewhat soft, “and if I let you go and then heard that you were killed, I'd be a little annoyed.”

“Why?” 

“Because I’ve already saved your life once,” he so sweetly reminded you as you sighed heavily, “and I didn't just save your life so you could go and be killed by someone else.”

“Ain’t that sweet? You’re a modern day prince,” you mocked his twang as his expression refused to shift. It was almost annoying how unfazed he remained the majority of the time, “I had it handled. You happened to come at an inconvenient time.”

“If that's what helps you sleep at night,” he had to fight to hold back a laugh as you turned back around and you marched in front of him, making it a point not to look back at him. He had to be the most infuriating person you'd ever met. He'd had two hundreds years to perfect being annoying and he had done exceedingly well.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you had been traveling together for a number of days. You'd managed not to kill each other, luckily, but otherwise things had remained mostly the same. Silence, and if it wasn’t silence, it'd be harsh words and fast quips.

You didn't hate him - not really. You hated the idea that anyone, let alone a man, believed that you needed help. You'd had things handled and would have kept yourself safe. He'd just happened to come fight when you were in the midst of either killing or getting killed. 

He wasn't going to let that go anytime soon. That much you already knew about him.

“It’s cold,” you announced as the two of you made camp for the night. You pulled your jacket tighter around your frame but it was no use, “I’m cold. Can we make a fire?”

“That, princess, is one of the many reasons you need someone out there to keep an eye on you,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost have thought that he was being kind - nice. 

“Listen,” you sat down and leaned against one of the trees near the clearing you’d decided to call home for the evening, “I know it’s not exactly safe or the best idea, but I’d rather do that than freeze.”

“It ain’t even that cold,” he mused, stripping off his overcoat and tossing it over to you. You made a sound of surprise, but didn’t hesitate to put it on, “life really was different for you, wasn’t it? I’d say it was almost as easy as those vaulties had it.”

“It wasn’t…” you knew he wasn’t wrong. You’d come from a place of privilege, having been born into a family with wealth, new world wealth anyway, and had it pretty easy for a surface dweller. You’d lived in a large, well stocked and safe home with people around to do your bidding. Those were some of the perks of having a father that was some sort of merchant prince, “it wasn’t like that.”

“Yeah?” he rolled out his bedroll, a bitter laugh escaping him, “sounds like you had nothing to do and everything done for you.”

“I mean…” you trailed off, knowing it was futile to lie to him. He’d known your father after all; Cooper Howard was the one sent to fetch you and return you home once your father had found out you’d run away, “it was…good sometimes. There were a lot of bad times too. But I still know how to do things for myself. I could kill you with my bare hands if I wanted to. I’ve done it before.”

“Huh,” he grabbed a vial and downed it one go, his eyes never leaving your face, “guess that makes you a killer. Just. Like. Me.”

“I did what I had to do,” you swallowed thickly, blinking back tears that threatened to well up. Cooper knew that you had run away, but he didn’t know the full extent of what had happened to cause you to run away, “and we’re here.”

“Tell me what happened,” your eyes snapped to him as you tried to weigh his words in order to see if he was being serious or not. He’d never really taken an interest into your personal life, but you wondered if that was because he genuinely didn’t care or if he’d just created some sort of creed for himself that didn’t allow him to get close to anyone, “what made you run away from your sweet little life, darlin’?”

“Cooper,” you wiped your hands on your thighs and shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. You’d never really said his name before and that caught him off guard, “does it really matter?”

“It’s still buggin’ you, clearly,” he mirrored your position and crossed his arms over his chest, “and we ain’t got nothing but time.”

You inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling and looking at the sky. You could feel his attention still focused on you, “my father told me that there was a man I was going to marry. I told him no and he told me that I didn’t have a choice. Said man found me shortly before the wedding was supposed to happen and he…he tried to…”

You paused for a moment, wiping away the tears that had unwittingly rolled down your cheeks. Cooper’s gaze had darkened but he was still watching; the expression on his face looked like he was ready to commit murder.

“He didn’t get a chance to do anything,” you said softly, “I killed him before he could. But he managed to get me a little bit when he was trying to fight me off. That’s why I had a black eye and all the bruises.”

“Darlin’-”

“I didn’t hesitate, Coop,” your expression steeled as you looked him in the eyes, “and I won’t hesitate now. A man will never tell me what to do. And I don’t need anyone thinking I need someone to protect me.”

Cooper had been listening with rapt attention, his mind already thinking of the things he could do to your father.  Bringing you back to him definitely wasn’t one of those things. He’d made up his mind about that almost the moment he’d met you. You’d been sporting a black eye and cut lip, dried blood caked on your hands and arms. He was smart enough to put two and two together.

“For what it’s worth,” he looked back at you with the gentlest expression you’d seen on him, “I’m sorry for what you had to go through. Those are not men, those are monsters.”

“And you’re going to bring me right back to him,” it was a question presented as a statement. You weren’t entirely sure what his plan with you was; you’d been scared to ask. But he also wasn’t hadn’t mentioned a word of bringing you back to your father, “aren’t you?”

“I ain’t bringing you back,” he admitted and you couldn’t keep the surprise off your face, “I never was. I’ve been around a long time, little girl. I know what your father is. I figured it was a better option for me to find you than someone else.”

“You’re not?” you hated how small your voice sounded; how you almost sounded scared. In a way you were. Scared of going back to the place that you hated and would surely make sure you suffered, but you were also scared of forging a new path. You didn’t really know where you were going or what you were going to, “really?”

“On one condition,” of course. You waved your hand, motioning for him to go, “you admit that you have no clue where we’re going and we’ve basically been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”

You tried to look serious for a moment, but you couldn’t help but start to laugh at how well he could already read you. Cooper was so taken aback by the soft, sweet sound that he couldn’t help the smile that tugged up the corners of his mouth. When you managed to catch your breath, you looked at him and cocked your head to the side, “I have no clue where we’re going and we’ve been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”

“Honesty,” he pulled one of his knees toward his chest and drummed his fingers on it, “it’s refreshing. You’re gonna be alright, kid.”

“There’s a place,” you murmured after a few moments of silence, “that my mom told me about when I was little. She made it sound like this magical place. I guess really, that’s where I want to go.”

“I hate to break it to you,” Cooper said, “but magical places don’t really exist. They never really did.”

“I know,” you admitted softly, “it just seemed like that when I was young. She died a long time ago, but I’d always think about that place, going there someday.  She said it was west - just go west and you’ll know when you’re there.”

“Hmm,” he nodded and paused for a moment before getting up and grabbing some nearby sticks and bringing them to the center of the clearing. He started making a fire before you could even question him, “if it draws anything out, I’m sure we can handle it.”

“Thanks Coop,” you watched him work, an odd feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Once the fire was going, he settled down near you, “Cooper?”

“Hmm?”

“We are going west, right?” your question caused him to chuckle before he reached into his pocket and pulled something small out that he passed over you. It was a small silver compass worn and weathered just like him.

“I’m sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but we’ve been goin’ east for the last couple of days,” he shrugged as you groaned at yourself. At least you didn’t have anywhere to be at any particular time, “had I know we’ve been searching for a magical place, I could have told you we were going the wrong way.”

“I guess I’m not as handy as I thought,” you grumbled to yourself, clutching the compass tightly in your hand, “you know you don’t have to come, right?”

“I know,” he nodded, “you think anyone could force me to do something against my will, you don’t know me at all, sugar. Now stop your yapping and get some rest. We’ll start heading west at sunrise.”

You paused for a moment, pulling his coat tighter around you, “thanks, Coop.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next couple of days of trekking passed in relative peace. The two of you were now making your way west for whatever magical place your mom had made you dream of you. You weren’t sure why Cooper was still with you, but you weren’t about to complain. He provided some decent company since you’d had your little heart to heart, but he owed you nothing. You weren’t exactly complaining; he was the closest thing to a friend you’d had in a long time.

But, as things would have it in the wasteland, life threw a wrench in your plans. A wrench in the form of two raiders that definitely weren’t looking to get chummy. 

“Ugh,” you groaned as the two figures approached from a distance. The two of you were outside of a saloon, trying to decide whether to keep pressing on for the evening or staying put and turning in. Cooper followed your line of sight and made a sign of annoyance, “why do I feel like they’re going to make trouble?”

“Well, darlin’, that’s because they’re about to make trouble,” he touched the brim of his hat and pulled it further down. 

“Look who it is,” one of the men sneered at the two of you. He looked about as unfriendly as they came, “the Ghoul of the hour and his little bounty.”

“We heard you were having some trouble delivering her back home,” his partner came up and eyed you without shame. He looked disgusting with greasy hair and rotting teeth, a sinister expression on his face, “so we came to take over.”

“Go fuck yourself,” you spit at him, reaching for the dagger that was at your side. You felt Cooper reach for your hand and gently squeeze it in order to stop you from making any rash moves.

“What this charming sweetheart means is that she is not going back with you,” Cooper smirked at them, “so you can run along now.”

“Fucking Ghoul,” the first man snarled at him, “you couldn’t even do your job. Turn the bitch over and we’ll let you go alive…or whatever the hell you are.”

“You can go back to my father and tell him that he can go fuck himself too,” you hissed, blood boiling with sheer annoyance and anger, “and if you don’t turn around right now-”

“What?” His voice was sticky sweet and filled with vinegar as he smiled at you; both of them had pistols in their hands and that made your stomach churn. They could easily get the jump on you, “you’ll kill me?”

“No,” Cooper pushed you behind him and looked at them with a grin on his face. Of course he’d  be enjoying this, “but I will.”

“Why don’t you just-” but the man couldn’t get another word in as the sound of the gunshot rang through the air, causing you to stumble backwards and cover your ears. A second shot rang out within seconds and you saw the other body fall to the ground. 

It happened so fast that you couldn’t help the shock that ran through your body, causing you to let you let out a loud sob. You’d seen death before, you’d seen things much worse than before but there was something about the moment that was overwhelming. 

Blood spattered the side of the building, causing you to dry heave as you noticed the bits of brain and bone clinging to it. Your ears were still ringing as you tried not to completely lose your grip on reality.

“Hey,” you heard his voice cut through the fog and you felt his hand on your shoulders, helping to keep you steady and upright. You shifted your gaze up and found his eyes concerned, “hey.”

“I-I…” you couldn’t even form a proper sentence as you looked at him, “they…you. You saved me.”

Before he could even respond, you threw your arms around him and held tightly onto him. He was taken aback for a moment before he hugged you back, and you could feel his breath of relief. There was something so good and reassuring about the feel of his arms around you.

“You would have had it handled,” he insisted and you shook your head. 

“No,” you looked at him and to your surprise he gently wiped away your tears, “I couldn’t have. I couldn’t have saved myself this time. Thank you.”

“No need to thank  me, darlin’,” he took your chin in his hand and kept your gaze on his, “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

“I do,” you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and nodded slightly, “I do need you. Don’t go.”

“The only place I’m going is west,” there was that smile again, the one that rarely graced his features. The same one that made your legs feel like jello, “are you comin’?”

“Yes,” you promised, “I’m coming.”

“Well then, we best get goin’ sweetheart,” he glanced over the carnage that he left behind, “before someone else comes to make trouble.”

He checked himself over to make sure he had everything ready to. You missed the feel of his touch almost immediately. 

Once he made sure he had everything, he held his hand out to you.

You took it without hesitation. 

[13eyond13]

.

[marriedtobigfoot]

Steve ends up heartbroken, lonely and depressed after season 2. Nancy called him bullshit, even after he ditched all his old friends for her. Billy Hargrove took his spot at the top of the food chain. He can have it, Steve doesn't really want it anymore. But Steve does want to find some sort of connection. Someone to have in his life who isn't an 11 year old kid he barely knows. He tries to go on a date one night, take a nice-seeming girl to a party. He wants to find connection, to kill the loneliness that's been building for months, but just as he's feeling kind of good about things, his date ditches him.

So. He decides to drink his feelings. He gets majorly fucked up, and ends up laying on the ground in the backyard, contemplating how much life seems to hate him.

Only to literally get tripped over by Eddie Munson, who was at this party selling pot and is very confused as to why Steve Harrington is alone on the ground with a bottle of vodka clenched in one hand.

Eddie ends up chatting a little with Steve, nothing substantial, but enough to know that Steve is very very drunk, and also very very sad.

He asks if Steve wants to go back to the party, and Steve staunchly refuses. He doesn't want to be around a bunch of annoyingly happy people.

He asks if Steve needs a ride home, and Steve just kind of shrugs. His parents just left for another trip, so home is kind of depressing right now too. But he doesn't exactly have any other friends he can stay with so. Home it'll have to be.

Only Eddie can *tell* he doesn't really want to go home, though he has no idea why Steve wouldn't want to return to his veritable mansion after a shitty night. The reason doesn't matter much. He offers to let Steve crash at his place. Steve can take the couch, or hell he can stay in Eddie's room if he doesn't mind sharing, that way he wouldn't risk being woken up when Wayne comes home that morning.

And well, Steve agrees. Can't think of any reason not too. Munson has been nice so far, he's got a good easy-going energy that Steve likes. Why not stay the night.

By the time they get to Eddie's, Steve is *slightly* more sober. Not much, but he's slurring his words a little less, and he can walk with only a little help.

Eddie grabs them each a little plate of leftovers, because he has no idea if Steve's eaten at all. It's quiet while they eat, Eddie doesn't push Steve to talk, and Steve isn't sure what to say. Eventually Eddie sets the plates aside and give Steve an easy grin.

"So, do you want the couch, or are you crashing with me?"

Steve thinks about it for a while. He hasn't shared a bed with a guy-friend since he was a kid, and he's heard rumors about Eddie, whispers in the hall about the way he looks at other guys. But...Steve can't really bring himself to care. He's tired, and he really doesn't want to be alone.

"I don't mind sharing."

Eddie sets them both up in his room, letting Steve choose which side of the bed he wants, and they both settle in. There's a respectable distance between the two of them, and Eddie says a quick goodnight to Steve, figures they won't talk and just go right to bed.

Except Steve isn't sober, and he really isn't in a good headspace, so he can't stop himself from blurting things out into the quiet of the dark room.

"Are you really gay?"

Eddie stiffens next to him, he can feel it, he can hear the way that the other boys breath cuts off and he seems to stop breathing all-together.

"It's okay if you are, I'm not going to be an asshole about it, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore. I guess I was just curious."

It's quiet for another beat before Eddie seems to loosen just a little. He starts breathing again at least.

"Yeah I uh- I am. Gay. And if that's weird the couch is still open, I can-"

"It's not weird."

"Okay."

Steve let's himself mull over this confirmation, and then his mouth starts moving again, without his permission.

"Is it lonely? Cause I mean, it's got to be hard to date in Hawkins. People here are shitty. Unless you've got like, a secret boyfriend or something."

"No...no secret boyfriend. It does get a little lonely sometimes. I'm lucky though, I've got my uncle, and my friends are pretty great. That's enough most days."

"What do you do when it's not enough?"

"Hmmm?"

"When your uncle and friends aren't enough, what do you do? To try and...make it better?"

Eddie is quiet again for a long stretch before he shrugs.

"I try to focus on something else. I'll play my guitar or work on a new campaign, read a book. Something to take my mind off it."

"Oh."

Now Steve is the one who seems tense, his jaw is tight and he's got his arms wrapped around himself. His next words come out as a whisper, but Eddie manages to catch them.

"I don't know how to do any of that."

He sounds almost choked, and Eddie is caught off guard. He's never seen Steve Harrington as anything other than solid, as happy. He's the king, after all. He's supposed to be all smiles and great hair. Only...Eddie's noticed that he hasn't hung out with his old friends lately, that he's eaten alone at lunch too many times to be anything other than strange.

"Steve...are you lonely?"

Eddie expects a denial, for Steve to laugh it off and tell Eddie that he's perfectly fine and fulfilled. Or maybe he expects a shrug, a non-answer. What he doesn't expect is the gut-wrenching sob that seems to tear past the other boys lips.

He doesn't expect to turn and see Steve Harrington's face, a scant foot from his, shining with tears.

He panics a little at the sight.

"Fuck- I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be." Steve tries to wipe his eyes, to hide the tremble in his voice. "Not your fault there's something wrong with me."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like I'm broken man, like nobody can stand to be around me. Tommy and Carol hate me now, Nancy- hell even my own parents hate being at home with me for more than a week. It's like I'm repellent or something. Couldn't even get a date to stick around for a whole night."

And Eddie's pretty sure *he* might start crying now. He'd never have expected this much from Steve, all that sadness to come pouring out. It wouldn't have happened if Steve was completely sober. Without thinking, he reaches out.

Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and waits to see if the touch gets rejected, but Steve seems to lean into him, so he lets his hand linger.

"This probably won't help, but I don't think you're repellent. And that's coming from somebody who your whole group used to torture. I don't know much about you, but I kind of liked having you around tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Steve gives him a tiny smile. His eyes are still wet with tears, and the smile doesn't come close to reaching them. He seems impossibly small here in Eddie's bed.

"I don't know man. I just wish-"

He cuts himself off, apparently deciding his words are too far, but Eddie urges him to keep talking.

"What do you wish Steve?"

"I just wish that... there was somebody out there I could have a future with. Somebody who actually loved me, you know?"

It might be the saddest thing Eddie's ever heard, and he blames that fact for what he does next.

He takes his hand off Steve's shoulders and instead hauls Steve closer to him, fitting the other boy against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. It's a move that might get him decked, but he doesn't think it will. And he'll be damned if he doesn't hug Steve right that second.

He doesn't get hit. Steve tenses for a second, but it's just that one instant before he's melting into the embrace.

Eddie feels more tears falling against his shirt, and he couldn't care less. He keeps Steve close, let's him cry into his chest, runs a hand through that famous mop of hair.

He isn't sure how long it takes for Steve to calm down, but eventually he does. His breathing evens out, and he shivers a little before speaking.

"Thanks man."

And Eddie takes another leap of faith.

"I could be that person, you know."

"What?"

"I mean. You know Im... not straight. It may not be exactly what you're wanting but. I think I could picture a future with you. If you want to, just for tonight...I could be that someone who loves you."

Steve looks at Eddie, like he's a puzzle that he needs to solve, before a other shiver seems to wrack his body.

"Just for tonight?"

It comes out as a whisper, but Eddie hears it all the same.

"Yeah. For tonight Steve."

"I think...I think I'd like that."

Eddie gives him the sweetest smile he can muster, and nods.

"Alright sweetheart."

Eddie isn't exactly sure what it means, to love Steve for the night. After all, Steve is straight. He figures it doesn't matter much though, it's only for a night.

He keeps a hold on Steve, let's him get comfortable tucked against Eddie, and he does what feels natural. He runs a hand up and down Steve's spine, traces shapes into the soft fabric of his shirt. He tangles their legs together, and in a moment of insane bravery he presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head.

He's met with a sigh, full of relief, and figures he's on the right track.

"Just close your eyes Stevie, I've got you."

"Can you tell me about it?"

"Hmmm?"

"The future. You said you could see one. Can you tell me?"

And he asks so carefully, he sounds almost afraid, Eddie can't say no to that.

"Do you want the fantasy future, or the realistic future?"

"The real one."

"Alright then. Well, if I'm not going to be a rich and famous rockstar...I'll probably graduate and get a job somewhere in town. A real job, maybe working on cars or something. I'm good with cars. You'd come over all the time, have dinners with me and with Wayne. You'd have to meet Wayne. And we'd have more nights like this, sleeping close."

Steve let's out a pleased sounding hum, and shifts his face so it's buried even closer in Eddie's neck. He can feel Steve's breath on him.

"We could save up money and get a little place together, somewhere outside Hawkins. I have to stay kind of close, for my uncle, but maybe Indy?"

Steve nods, mutters something about staying close 'just in case'. He sounds like he might fall asleep, so Eddie keeps going.

"We could get an apartment, nothing too fancy. We would get two rooms, so nobody gets suspicious, but we would share a bed most nights. I'd play with my band on weekends, just for fun, and you'd join some little local sports team. I'd make sure to schedule DND nights so that I never miss a single game, even though I don't understand a damn thing about sports. We would come home for holidays, but most of the time it would just be us. I'd take good care of you, make sure you never go more than a few hours without me telling you I love you. I'll show up wherever you're working just to give you a hug and a kiss, and make sure you don't forget it. And I'll annoy the hell out of, but you won't mind too much, because I'll make you happy too."

Eddie can think of more. He can think about so many things. How he could give Steve one of his rings, even if they couldn't legally get married, even if Steve would never want that. Just as another reminder that he's loved. They could take trips together and go out to parties where Steve will never have to worry about getting ditched. Eddie doesn't do things halfway, and he has a hell of an imagination. He could picture them growing old together, if he tried, if he let himself. But this is just for tonight, so he doesn't. Instead he runs a hand through Steve's hair again, and listens to his quiet breathing. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he's wrong.

"That sounds nice."

It comes out muffled, spoken into Eddie's neck, but he manages to make it out, and he let's the vibration of it sink into his skin.

*It's only for tonight.*

He has to remind himself, because Steve is just feeling lonely. He doesn't want that future with Eddie, he just wants to feel loved.

But even if it's just pretend, just to help Steve for a few hours, he's okay with that.

Steve may think he's broken, but Eddie thinks he would be easy to love for a long time. Loving him for one night is nothing. He doesn't even have to try.

Tomorrow Steve will wake up sober, and he'll thank Eddie for letting him stay over, and they won't talk about it. Eddie will drive Steve back to his car in silence, and they'll say their goodbyes. They may not talk ever again, they never had before.

But for tonight? Eddie Munson will love Steve Harrington, and Steve? He'll let himself be loved, let himself beleive it. And he'll love Eddie right back.

Just for one night.

And if Steve ever needs it again? Eddie will love him for another night. And Steve will give that love right back. He's got plenty to spare, after all. And there's far worse people he could share it with.

[bradshawsbitch]

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎» ‎𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

⁘ amongst salt water skin and silken sheets lies insecurities and innocence, but also tenderness and a willingness to learn...

› pairing; bradley bradshaw x f!reader

prompt; ❝  well,  honestly i’ve never really had sex before and was kinda hoping you would teach me.  ❞ and  ❝  don’t be nervous,  i’ll guide you through it.  ❞

word count; ~ 6.1K

× chapter warnings; loss of virginity, virginity as a normative concept, p in v sex, no use of y/n, smut, porn without plot, creampie, hair tugging, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption(?) if you squint maybe, rooster is a consent king

request; by @diorrfairy. I'm so sorry this took so long my love 🫶

disclaimer; I was rather torn with how I wanted this fic to go. on one hand I wanted it to be how I wished my first time was, yet I did not want to accidentally make it seem as if this is how a 'first time' is supposed to be, if that makes sense. I therefore tried to make it realistic in the way I experienced sex for the first time, but still making it softer, and sweeter, and the way I figure I'd want a first time with someone you love to be. for me sex hurt the first like five times but also my first bf was 6'5 and he was fucking huge so like yeehaw.

tagging people who might like; @roleycoleyland @roosterforme @lewmagoo @theharddeck @seresinsweetie @sebsxphia @rhettabbotts

Being with Bradley was easy. It was sunny, comfortable, and safe. The soft gaze of the aviator could turn your knees weak in a heartbeat. The way he touched you, the way he listened and understood you - and most of all, the way he never pushed you harder than needed to explore new things if you didn’t want to.

Previously, in all relationships you’d had - whether platonic or romantic, you found that people pushed you. Pushed you to participate in things you maybe weren’t entirely ready for, or didn’t wholly feel comfortable with. Like the first time you got drunk, even though you’d told your friends you’d rather just try one beer and then drink soda. 

Bradley, however, understood the need for you to feel comfortable and safe. He understood that you needed time to contemplate, to reflect, and to sort of turn and twist an event in your mind a few times before throwing yourself headfirst into it. 

So, when the two of you started getting serious, and you, with heat rising to your face, confessed that you ‘hadn’t done much’ in the sexual department, his amber gaze had softened. He’d smiled softly, cradled your cheek in one of his large palms, and placed a tender kiss upon your lips as he promised to take everything in the pace you deemed appropriate.

He wasn’t in a hurry, he’d said before enveloping you in his arms, letting you nuzzle your face into his chest and his safe embrace. Inhaling his scent and feeling his strong arms and hands holding you so delicately, you truly felt safe in his promise not to rush anything.

Bradley had not quite understood your timidness when telling him about not having too much experience. He figured maybe you’d fooled around a little in college with some boys or girls, but that you hadn’t had too many mind blowing sexual encounters. As beautiful and kind as you were, Rooster had a hard time imagining anything else. However, his mother had raised him to always respect a ladies wishes - however small or big that wish was, and he was nothing if not a caring soul himself. He always wanted you to feel safe with him, wanted you to feel you could confide in him, and lay worries and hardships for him to carry with you. 

Which was why he was perfectly content to spend lazy afternoons making out with you straddled on his lap, only sneaking in a squeeze of your ass sporadically - keeping his hands placed gently on your waist, only ever letting them grace slowly upwards to your ribcage and to the wire of your bra. The small little noises you made drove him wild, but he wouldn’t be the person to push you. No, Bradley was more than willing to wait until you asked him to touch you. 

However, as compassionate and patient a man as Bradley was - he was also a little insecure. He had never felt the way he did with you, and he was glad that you both seemed to be on the same page of slowly cherishing each other’s comfort. Felt secure in that this was something you both felt was something special.

Your relationship was not something that needed to be rushed, because both of you felt that this might be it. But one human can only take so many rejections before they start to wonder if it was something that they did wrong. Had he been pushy? Had he made you feel so uncomfortable that even after months of dating you didn’t want him? Or was it simply the fact that you didn’t find him attractive or arousing enough?

These thoughts swirled and tainted the most noble of intentions within Bradley. He so badly wanted you to feel the way he did about you, that it somewhat clouded his perception. Every sweet, bashful smile as you pulled away from him turned into a confirmation that there was something he was doing wrong.

Perhaps you were not a person who wanted what he wanted. He would be okay with that if that were the case, but as he pondered these possibilities in bed after a particularly nice day at the beach with you, he realized that the best way to go about it was to talk about it. 

He smiled as he reminisced on your walk, feet bare in the sand. His heart did double-time as he remembered the way your eyes sparkled, and the way you’d pulled on his hand to draw him into the water with you. Covered in sand and salt water, the two of you had spent the majority of the day in each other's arms (when you were not indulged in very serious bouts of splashing wars) before retreating to Bradley’s home. 

Which was how Bradley found himself perched on his bed after a nice shower to wash away the sand and salt, feeling content with the conclusion he had come to. The water was still running, as you were washing away the day as well, further fuelling Bradley’s thoughts. He was torn from them when you emerged, clad in a large, white, oversized silken button-up. It was rather old, and some of the buttons were missing. Your skin looked soft as it gleamed in the glow of the evening light. Looking at you, Bradley couldn’t help the soft smile that stretched across his lips as he raised his arms to signal he wanted you near. 

Mimicking his smile, you happily straddled his lap, making yourself comfortable before holding up a small container that Rooster hadn’t noticed before. 

“What’s that?” his voice was low, as if the energy of the room shouldn’t be disturbed by loud talking. Fingertips dipped into white cream, before gently ghosting across the skin of his face. 

“It’s to soothe the skin, baby,” you explained softly, massaging the cool cream onto Bradley’s warm face. He hummed in reply, letting his hands grasp your hips, running his thumb up and down over the soft silken material. His eyes fluttered shut as you carefully made sure that every surface of his skin was carefully covered, even going down to cover his throat and neck. 

“All done.” was whispered against his lips, punctured by the soft feel of your plush lips upon his. Your chest had fallen closer to his bare upper body, and the small container now found its resting place on his nightstand as your hands splayed on his pecs and shoulders. 

You deepened the kiss, your tongue curiously exploring and wetting Bradley’s lips before meeting his own tongue slowly. Bradley couldn’t help the groan that escaped him as you pressed closer to him, your tongue so languidly moving with his own, couldn’t help gripping  your hips just a little tighter at the small noises you were emitting whilst hesitantly rolling your hips against his grown hard-on. 

“Sweets…” Bradley rasped, breaking the kiss. Normally, you would look down and look bashful, but this time your lips traveled across his jaw, fluttering over his pulse point as you hummed in acknowledgement. As you reached a particularly sensitive point and nipped softly, Bradley let out a low moan, his hands moving up your waist before they skimmed back down to let them rest on the globes of your ass. Kneading and grasping he groaned again, not noticing the way you had stopped kissing his neck. 

Tensing ever so slightly, you sat up from your position, looking down as nerves fluttered restlessly in your stomach.

“Honey,” Bradley’s voice was soft “talk to me, please. Am I doing something wrong? Do I make you uncomfortable?” his fingers gently asked you to look him in the eye from their place at your chin. Blinking, a small crease formed between your brows. 

“N-no, never! I’ve never felt as safe as I do when I’m with you.” the answer came to you easy, spilling truthfully from your lips as you looked into your boyfriend’s amber eyes. 

“Why do you ask that?” 

“I can feel how tense you are sometimes when we’re like this… you always pull away from me darlin’, and I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page, okay? You can tell me anything. If I’ve done something, or if you just don’t feel like ever doing anything– or if I’m not, y’know, doing enough to turn you on–” he was rambling. He knew he was and yet he couldn’t stop; his worries and anxieties coming out in a way he didn’t want them to. He was almost thankful when you cut him off.

“Bradley, do you think I don’t want to have sex with you because you don’t turn me on enough?” if you weren’t feeling nervous butterflies in your stomach at the aspect of actually feeling ready for taking this step with Bradley, you would have laughed. 

“I don’t know… Maybe? Mostly I’ve been worried that I have made you feel unsafe with me. Or that I’ve done something to make you feel as if you don’t want that part of our relationship like that,” it was Bradley’s turn to look bashful. Saying it out loud always made you realize how bizarre some of your thoughts could sound. 

“Honey…” you smiled, leaning into your boyfriend again “I– I just… you know I told you how I haven’t done much?” Bradley nodded. 

“Of course. I am in no way trying to rush you - I totally understand you may have had other experiences with sex before that makes this uncomfortable and–”

“No, Bradley.” you groaned “you don’t understand–” sighing, you paused for a moment. Maybe it would be better to spell it out. “well… honestly, I’ve never really had sex before–” 

Silence hung between two lovers, Bradley’s brows raising slightly in surprise, a feeling of deep guilt settling uncomfortably in his chest. 

“Honey… I am so sorry. I never meant– I mean, I figured you must have, you’re so out of this world beautiful…” Bradley looked at you, his eyes soft and filled with love. “I’m sorry, my darling, I just wanted to know if there was something I had done - I will wait for as long as you need,” he straightened up to place his lips upon yours in a soft kiss. 

Shaking your head, you broke the kiss, smiling softly at him. 

“And– I was kinda hoping you would teach me,” you finished your interrupted sentence, letting your fingers sneak into the hair at the nape of Bradley’s neck, tugging and twirling strands of hair there to ease your nerves. Again, Bradley looked at you with such adoration and love that it nearly took your breath away. His hands were back to soothingly rubbing your sides and hips, the way he held you making you feel precious and secure. 

“Darling…” his voice was low but riddled with unspoken emotions, one of his hands moving to cradle your cheek “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want okay. I’m not going anywhere.” his assurance meant the world to you, but you’d felt ready for some time now. 

Mulling it over as you first noticed that when the two of you had ended up entangled in bed, or on the sofa, it didn’t make you feel as panicked as it had in the beginning. It felt exhilarating now. It felt like something you wanted. Something you desperately needed with Bradley. 

“I really want to.” your voice was firm in its choice, and Bradley sat up more from his position reclined against the headrest to be able to place his lips all over your throat. 

“I really want you…” Bradley murmured against your skin as his lips skimmed over the parts he knew had you the most breathless. It drew the tiniest of gasps, followed by a high pitched whimper from you the way he spoke so huskily, so close to your ear, his warm breath momentarily dizzying you. 

“Bradley…” you mewled softly “Please!” Bradley’s head was spinning from the sheer thought of loving you like this, but hearing your sweet plea made his breath hitch in his throat, his hard-on jolting slightly in his boxers at the words. Perhaps he should feel some type of embarrassment over that reaction, but he couldn’t find it in him to do so. Not when you were perched on his lap, clad in a loose fitting silken shirt, looking like the divines themselves. 

“You say stop and we do, okay?” Bradley searched your eyes, and you nodded, tucking your bottom lip between teeth as anticipation swirled through you. “Gotta hear you say it, honey,” Rooster smirked, reaching up to gently let his thumb draw out your bottom lip from between your teeth. That single act had your breath hitching as he let his thumb trace your lip. 

“I say stop and we stop.” you confirmed and Bradley smiled up at you 

“Good girl.” 

Blinking slowly, you took in the two soft spoken words that had drawn out the most sinful sound from your lips. “Oh, God,” you whispered softly, face heating up in embarrassment. Bradley gently shushed you, before letting his hand inch up your ribcage, his thumbs gracing the underside of your breasts. 

“It’s okay, little dove. It’s normal to react this way, alright? Nothing to be embarrassed about.” his voice was so soft, so soothing, that it made you keen even more, needing him closer to you. 

“You have no idea how much it turns me on to see you react to me like this…” Bradley wanted you to know that there was nothing shameful in the way you were reacting, and he desperately needed you to understand he never wanted you to suppress any sounds or feelings that might arise between the two of you. He wanted to see it all, hear it all, experience you and your love in its purest form. 

His hands wandered ever so slightly further up, gently letting his palm encompass the swell of your breasts in his hands, eyes flitting up to yours to see your reaction to the advancement. Letting out a stuttered breath, you let your head tip back at the sensation of his hands warming the silk against your skin.

As Rooster gently kneaded and pressed against your flesh, another breathy moan spilled from your parted lips. As he let his fingers gently pinch at your pebbled nipple, you cried out, suddenly feeling the need to move. You rocked hesitantly in Bradley’s lap, and another relieved whine left your lips as his hard-on rubbed against your damp underwear. 

“Fuck, honey… you’re so beautiful,” Bradley grunted out, trying to hold himself back and not grip your hips and grind you harder down on to him. He truly did believe you had never looked as beautiful as you were now, breath labored, skin glowing in the light that managed to flitter into the room, gently rocking against his lap. He whispered praises against your sternum as his hands slowly kneaded your sensitive flesh, his hot breath fanning over the exposed skin as the shoulder of your night shirt slid down your arm to reveal your breasts. 

Bradley took his time kissing and loving your chest, his large hands working up and down your sides, squeezing at your breasts before letting his tongue flutter over hardened nipples, teasing you as you let out soft, high pitched noises. Your brows were furrowed together, eyelids fluttered closed as you moved your hips down on him, panting slightly from the pleasure of his hard cock brushing your clothed clit every so often. 

“So pretty…” Bradley murmured before he sucked one nipple into his mouth, groaning at the feel of his lips wrapped around your flesh, relishing in the cry it drew from you, reeling at your body reacting by collapsing closer to him, a hand flying to grasp and tug at his hair. You were pulling him closer, and your movement was starting to become a little frazzled as you were overcome by the pleasure Bradley was giving you. 

“Brad–” you were gasping, almost clawing at the back of his head, not sure if you wanted to push him closer to your chest or tug him away. Squirming in your boyfriends’ lap you cried out again, whimpering softly over and over again as you felt his lips release the nipple he had been sucking on, moving to give the other some much needed attention. The cool air against your saliva slick skin had you mewling again. It was all so much, too much, it felt too good, it was dizzying and overwhelming, and Bradley’s hands were touching parts of you you didn’t know were sensitive and–

“Stop!” it was gasped, breathlessly as your eyes shot open, chest heaving before looking down at your boyfriends worried face. 

“Too much?” Bradley cooed, reaching up to let his fingertips grace your cheek. Nodding shyly, you leaned into his touch, face heating at the notion that you needed a break. 

“It– it was too good, I-I couldn’t…” you trailed off, not entirely sure why you had asked him to stop. There had been a pressure building and sparking in you, and it frightened you. The pleasure you felt when the two of you made out, when he touched you, it was tame in comparison. No one else had ever made that… pressure happen before. 

Bradley shushed you softly, licking his lips and smiling softly up at you “S’okay, darling… we’re not in a rush, are we? And if you decide that’s enough for tonight, then that’s alright too.” he assured you, thumbs rubbing against your waist. He couldn’t help that his eyes flickered momentarily to the glistening skin around your breasts, an unfamiliar feeling swirling deep in the pit of his chest at the sight of his saliva marking your skin. It almost made him groan with pleasure, seeing himself on you in any capacity. 

“No, I… I really want you. I truly feel ready, because I’ve been thinking of loving you like this for so long now…” you trailed off, again looking down at where your body sat on top of his, stomach flipping a little as you took in the sun kissed skin of his abs… and that dusting of hair that disappeared beneath his boxers. “I just feel a little nervous” you admitted in a whisper, not being able to help the fluttering nerves within your stomach.

“Don’t be nervous… I’ll guide you through it, sweet girl,” Bradley murmured, nudging his nose against yours before letting his lips slowly move with yours, taking his time to let his tongue taste yours, until your arms were once again wrapped around his neck. 

“That’s it… good girl, keep going,” Bradley whispered against your lips as you again hesitantly rolled your hips against him. Soft mewls left you at his words, and Bradley couldn’t help but smiling into the kiss, filing away every reaction to his actions for later. 

“Does that feel good?” he hummed as he gently gripped your hips, helping you find the right angle to let his cock catch at your entrance before sliding up to your clit. The silk of your panties was dark with your slick, and Bradley could soon feel it covering his own underwear too. 

“Yes,” you breathed out, letting your forehead press against his “it– feels funny,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut as that pressure started to come back, even stronger now. Bradley hummed low in his throat, one hand making its way between your bodies to put more pressure where you needed it. 

“Bradley!” you gasped, body jolting slightly as his leaking cock head pressed harder against your sensitive clit. “It’s okay, baby… you’re alright, I’ve got you,” Bradley whispered as he kissed right below your ear, not stopping the slow but steady rocking of your hips. 

“I feel like I’m gonna– gonna–” your trembling voice was interrupted by your small gasps and soft moans, again taking your plush bottom lip between your teeth as the sensation grew stronger. 

“You’re doing so good, honey– don’t stop; just let go for me, baby,” it was as if you needed Bradley’s soft guidance and assurance, because as soon as he told you to, you could feel that pressure spiking, before it snapped and shot through your entire body. The pleasure coursed through your veins as you came with a loud cry, followed by small whimpers of Bradley’s name, burrowing your face in his neck as you whined softly and rolled your hips a couple of more times. 

“There you go… such a good girl… are you alright, doll?” he’s murmuring softly and sweetly against your neck, your pulse thudding hard and fast against his warm lips. Lips that have curved slightly upwards as you cling onto him, fingers gripping at his slightly flexed biceps. You nod against his shoulder, placing a languid chaste kiss to his exposed skin. 

“I’m– I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before” heat again spread across your face, and Bradley couldn’t help the way his chest filled with pride, and an unfamiliar emotion that stirred somewhere close to his abdomen. “Did so good, honey. Looked real beautiful for me,” Bradley smiled, gently holding your hair back from your face before pecking your lips. His hands roamed down your body, until his fingers played with the hem of your underwear. Snapping the elastic slightly, making you gasp, he chuckled softly.

“Can I take these off?” nodding, you felt anticipation roll inside you in stormy waves as the two of you moved your bodies so Bradley could take your underwear off. Bradley’s hands kneaded softly at your thighs as you settled back on his lap, his amber eyes searching your worried face. Licking your lips, you took in Bradley’s completely naked form. Sure, you’d seen naked men before, but nothing compared to the golden tan of Bradley’s skin - the ripple of his abs, the dusting of hair that traveled from below his navel to his pubic bone and– oh god. 

You of all people was aware of Bradley’s size. He was tall, muscular, slightly burly, and his strong embrace always made you feel safe - whether he was lifting you and dropping you into the ocean earlier today, or if he made a point of helping you reach something high up (even if you didn’t always need the help) - but you hadn’t really used your imagination to be able to conjure this. Resting, hard as a rock, against his stomach, you wondered silently how on earth he would fit in you. 

“Honey,” Bradley tried to keep from chuckling, smirking, or sounding too smug when he spoke “it’s alright. We’ll go as slow as needed, love. I’ve got you.” and you trusted your boyfriend, you truly did, but still - how? 

As a distraction, Bradley’s ever working hands had snuck upwards, the pads of his fingers now caressing your sensitive clit, drawing a soft mewl from your parted lips. “That’s it, relax,” he murmured in encouragement as his fingers gently rubbed at your core, letting his middle finger slip further and further into your heat. 

“Oh!” pitching forward, you rested your forehead against your boyfriend’s broad shoulder, moaning involuntarily at the feeling of Bradley pumping his finger in and out slowly, stretching and preparing you. It felt good, that one finger didn’t yet feel uncomfortable. It was when he added a second one that you whined a little and squirmed against him. His voice soothed you, and as he found a spot within you that had you gasping every time his fingers graced it, you found your hips slowly starting to rock against his rhythm to seek out more of the feeling.

“Bradley…” his name tumbled from your lips in a needy gasp as his lips attached themselves to the delicate skin of your neck. You could feel his hot, wet tongue glide over the skin, his teeth nipping slightly before letting his lips close over the area to gently mark your neck. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” his reply was murmured against your skin, his mustache scratching lightly above your pulse point. “Think I want–” you paused “think I want you now…” it was strange how the words rolled off your tongue, embarrassment filling you up slightly at the admission, even with Bradley’s fingers knuckle deep in your pussy. The soft groan that reverberated from your boyfriend's chest made you squeak slightly in surprise, your walls clenching around his fingers as the sound spurred on your arousal. 

“Alright,” Bradley withdrew from the crook of your neck, where he’d had his face nuzzled, to look you in the eyes, giving you a soft smile as his fingers too withdrew from within you. 

“Do you have any condoms, sweets?” he murmured, tilting his head upwards slightly to place a chaste kiss to your warm cheek. Shaking your head no, you placed a soft kiss to his warm lips, admitting to him that you had been on birth control for some years now. You momentarily worried he might ask why you’d bother with contraceptives if you were a virgin. You’d rather not go into detail about how it can regulate your cycle. He just smiled, eagerly chasing your lips for another kiss as his hands stroked up and down your waist - where your silken shirt had created a halo around your midsection. 

“Tell me again what we’d do if you said a certain word?” Bradley looked into your eyes, his brown ones calm and filled with a serenity you could easily get lost in, as his large hand gently held your chin. Licking your lips, you managed a small smile down at your lover as you sat straddled across his lap, his hard cock leaking precum all over that faint line of hair that drove you absolutely insane with want.

“I say stop and we stop.” 

“Good girl,” at your slight shiver at the deep timbre of his voice, your boyfriend couldn’t keep his smirk at bay, loving how well you responded to his praise. 

Large hands gripped your hips as you rose slightly to your knees, your own hands which had been alternating between gripping Roosters biceps, clinging onto his shoulders, or being wrapped around his neck, now fluttered hesitantly down his chest, over his abdominals and down to that tantalizing little trail… The sound Bradley let out sounded relieved yet also a little strained as you hesitantly let your fingertips grace the underside of his hard cock, following along the prominent vein that ran along it. 

“Should I—” you licked your lips, gaze flickering up momentarily to his “should I touch you, before we..?” Bradley smiled softly and shook his head no “I am embarrassingly close to coming just from seeing you like this honey… it’s alright,” a soft smile spread on your lips as you still let your fingers curiously feel around your boyfriends hard shaft, feeling the ridges and veins, surprised at the silky feel of the warm skin. Humming softly you settled on letting your hands rest upon his shoulders again as he again gripped your hips to guide you into a position he deemed appropriate. 

Bradley’s head was spinning as he positioned his cock against your entrance, gently dragging his swollen head between your slick folds, having to take shallow breaths as he heard your whimpers and mewls. He repeated this motion over and over, ghosting over your hole, alternating between stimulating your clit and the sensitive skin around your heat. Soon enough you were rutting against the underside of his cock, making him slicked with your arousal. 

“Fuck, you feel so good!” Bradley groaned as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, desperately trying to get more of him. “Bradley! Please, please,” you whined, biting down slightly on his skin, drawing a deep moan from his parted lips. He let the very tip of his cock slowly enter you before he withdrew again, sliding his cock up towards your clit again. You had gasped and moaned at the short sensation, and Bradley could tell you thought you could take all of him with the way you were bucking your hips, trying to sink down on him.

“Slow down, baby… I’ll get you there, okay? Can’t take all of me yet…” he murmured against your temple, letting his lips linger there for a moment before he again lowered you slightly onto his weeping cock, the very tip breaching your core. 

You were panting now, as Bradley stilled your hips on him, this time not withdrawing as he let himself dip slightly deeper into you. Eyes widening, you whined at the sharp sting of his girth stretching you. 

“Shh, honey, you’re alright, I’ve got you,” his calm voice grounded you and you nodded against his shoulder. Bradley had done his best to prepare you, and you were thoroughly wet for him - but still, as he gently lowered you deeper onto him, tears sprang from your eyes at the sharp sting of being stretched by him. 

“I’m sorry, love.” Bradley furrowed his brows as he gently guided you to look at him, wiping at the tears that had leaked from your lashes. “Do you want to stop?” he murmured, large palm soothingly stroking up and down your spine. 

Even though the sharp sting wasn’t exactly comfortable, the feeling of his warmth, and the feeling of being so full still made your insides vibrate with feelings of love and arousal - a feeling that felt rather paradoxical in relation to the sharp stings you felt whenever you moved. Ultimately you spoke a tiny no, leaning into Bradley, seeking his solace and his safe embrace. Whenever you felt vulnerable, or were hurting, you sought out his safety. 

“Being so brave, little dove… being my good girl,” Bradley cooed, letting his strong arm wrap around you, his other slowly moving downwards, gently letting the pad of his finger rest against your clit as he lowered you a few more inches, until finally you sat flush against him. Biting your lip, your fingertips dug into the skin of Roosters biceps hard as he shushed you and praised you even more, making your stomach flip and your heart stutter in your chest. You had no idea mere words could ignite such a fire within you. 

Speaking softly to you, whispering praise and words of love into your ear, Bradley slowly let his fingertips grace over your back, down your arms, over your thighs, your breasts.. as his thumb gently swiped over your nipple, you let out a needy moan. Gently pinching, he drew out another whimper from you, and your breathing seemed to pick up again as he rolled it between his fingers, his palm massaging and kneading your flesh. 

“S’that feel good, honey?” he smiled as you looked him in the eyes, biting your lip and nodding as you experimentally rolled your hips - scrunching your face up, you whined softly at the feeling of discomfort, which was soothed by Bradley’s quick, distracting hands. 

Letting your lips crash against his, Bradley groaned as he used both hands to knead and pinch at your tits and nipples as you rocked slowly on his cock. Gasping and whimpering, you tried lifting your hips and sinking down again, finding that if you did it ever so slightly, it didn’t sting as much and it actually felt good when the tip of his cock hit that little spot inside you. 

“Bradley!” you whimpered against his lips, his name slightly muffled. After the initial pain, you were reeling from the realization that your boyfriend’s cock was buried in your pussy, and he was letting you ride him slowly. Moaning, you leaned slightly back, taking in the sight before you. In your frenzy, you had messed up his hair, and his eyes were glossy with lust, lips slightly swollen. The setting sun was making his tan skin glow, and the freckles that had formed on his shoulders made him look all the more incredible to you. 

“Fuck, god, you’re so fuckin’ tight… feel fucking incredible, Jesus, baby… I love you,” Bradley’s eyes were rolling upwards as you rode him a little faster, his cock pulsing with every slight movement you made. 

“I love you,” you whispered, the words ghosting over his skin. Bradley let his hands wander from your tits down to the globes of your ass, squeezing and kneading your asscheeks as you moved up and down on his cock. 

“Can I take over a little, baby?” he murmured into your ear, licking your lips, you nodded quickly, feeling Bradley’s grip on your ass tighten as he lifted and grinded you down against him. A gasp was quickly followed by a loud moan as he angled your hips ever so slightly, making your clit catch on his pubic bone. He sped up slightly, guiding your hips so they rolled and bounced slightly in time with his small thrusts, the head of his cock brushing that spot again and again, making you whimper and keen over and over. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bradley grunted and groaned as he fucked you onto his leaking cock. He was so fucking close, you were gripping and clenching so hard around him, and he was sure he was going to blow his load soon. “Baby you feel so fucking good.. god, this tight little pussy was fuckin’ made for my cock, wasn’t it? Was made to be fucked by me,” Bradley grunted as he babbled, that feeling he felt earlier exploding in his chest at your needy mewls. 

Growling, he took your loud moans as his go ahead to go just a little faster, fuck you just a little deeper. His one forearm wrapped around the curve of your ass as the other snuck up between your shoulder-blades, where he gripped the hair at the nape of your neck. A loud cry spilled from your lips as your eyes fluttered close, your body instantly relaxing and going almost limp in his hold as you moaned repeatedly. Growling, Bradley bucked his hips to fuck into you instead of lowering you down on him, and your needy cries made him almost black out with pleasure. 

Soon, he heard you gasping, moaning and crying his name over and over in pleasure. “That’s it honey, tell me who’s making you feel good.. who’s fucking this tight little pussy of yours so good,” his words made your eyes roll back into your head, and with a cry of his name you came for the second time, your slick creating a creamy ring around the base of his cock as he fucked you through the first orgasm you’d ever experienced with someone inside you. 

Whimpering and mewling, the waves of pleasure didn’t stop coming, it just kept going as Bradley’s cock pumped fast and deep into your wet cunt. Your bedroom was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, a wet sound that you found rather arousing, and your labored breaths and moans. 

“Babe, god I’m so close,” Bradley moaned, holding you tighter to his chest as he gasped, his cock and balls pulsing with the need to release. “Should I pull out?” he wasn’t all together sure he could. “No!” you whined, fingers tangling themselves in his hair. You’d never felt like this before. Your chest was swirling with the need to keep him close, keep him inside of you, you never wanted him to leave.

“Need you, Brad, need you!” you could barely form a full sentence, your words sounding more like whimpery babbles. At your pleas, Bradley grunted and groaned before he swore loudly, his hips bucking before his cock twitched and his release spurted deep within you. 

Feeling his warm seed spilling in you, your eyes rolled back slightly again as you moaned. Bradley’s whole body was shuddering as he ground you down against him, his balls tightening again and again as he released ropes upon ropes of his cum deep in your pussy. 

Sweaty bodies tangled together as you slumped forward against his heaving chest, your own breath labored and unsteady. Nuzzling into his pecs, you could hear and feel the way his heart beat hard inside his chest. “Love you,” you murmured, kissing at his sternum. Rooster’s large hand caressed the back of your head as you both came down from your highs. 

“Might hurt a little when I pull out…” he murmured against the top of your head, and you let out a dissatisfied whine whilst pouting. 

“Are you okay, honey?” he continued, and you smiled and nodded, feeling perfectly content as you laid in the safe arms of your lover, having just given him all of your love, and receiving all of him and his love back. 

AHHHHH fuck this one took forever to finish, and i'm not entirely happy with the ending - but i hope someone might enjoy it still<3 please let me know what you think! i'm always open for constructive crit <3

special thanks to coley and em for helping me through my writers block and cheering me on<3

[schwarzkatje]

dark!orphan!ellie x nun!reader

disclaimer: i don't ever write notes but this smells like too much blasphemy not to put some warnings and disclaimers. so, this contains ellie being still in an orphanage BUT i obviously changed the age so that she is of age because it goes without saying that p*dophilia is not contemplated here. also, "sister" is used as a synonym for "nun", not with the meaning of "family member". lastly, it does contain smut even though it's not so detailed.

> for part 2 click here || for part 3 click here

ellie didn't wake up one day choosing to be mean. in fact, if you ever asked her why the rude behaviour, she would simply laugh it off and tell you to shut the fuck up with a bitterness so unlikely for such a young girl.

ellie thought it was her god given right to do whatever she wanted, having being already stripped enough of the pillars of her life, namely a happy family and a place her heart could call home. that resulted in her receiving reprimands and punishments from the nuns more than any other kid in the orphanage.

and you, the youngest of the nuns tasked with the upbringing of the kids and the newest addition to the orphanage, seeing how ellie behaved, decided it was the perfect opportunity to enact the knowledge you had acquired during your noviciate by devouring books about dysfunctional behaviour, specifically in orphans. you were positive people could change if showed how.

what you would invoke the lord's name for to swear was your entire and firmly believed doctrine, came to a brutal halt the very moment you came to the realisation of what ellie's bad reputation really was about.

it wasn't just a typical scenographic display of childish behaviours like refusing to attend class or the occasional smuggling of cigarettes that concurred to tear apart your good intentions. these were merely common patterns studied throughout the years by psychologists and educators, and the main topics in all of your books.

no, what made you falter was the fact that ellie seemed to relish being mean. if others acting the same way sported an inconsolable sorrow in their eyes, ellie's green ones would glow with the eagerness that came with the raising of the voices of the nuns, the laughable detentions and the yet unexplored range of just how far was too far.

it didn't help that ellie had learnt from the older kids all the gross vocabulary she has now assimilated, repeating the filthy words as a sort of statement to maintain the hierarchical status she has fought for and ultimately achieved among the majority of the orphans.

so it caught you off guard only the first time ellie fiercely exclaimed that "if you care so much about me maybe you should suck my dick tonight," as you apprehended over time that this wasn't and wouldn't have been an isolated incident, rather an infuriating routine that seemed only to increase the more you showed ellie how much it pissed you off.

of course, that time your cheeks were burning red and your brain was at war with the mortification of having received such a vulgarity in front of other pupils, alongside the humiliation that ticked with each second you spent silent, at a loss for words to properly tackle the problem at hand.

the best thing you managed to come up with was the most generic and fruitless "go out," pointing at the class door.

before ellie could walk through the door, she turned to you, smirking like you had just made her day, and slurring a sultry "don't get so wet when you scold me," after which she left, winking at you.

your hands were tied. you understood that you could inform the other sisters of what ellie was making you go through, but you understood just as well that it would be no to avail since the other nuns were there way before you and knew to a greater extent the amount of work needed to be implemented when dealing with ellie.

after the heat of the moment had died down, you gathered all of your strength, prayed hoping to receive some mercy, and recited like a mantra that you were the bigger person and couldn't possibly let your purpose go to waste.

the fact was that you realised too late that the presence of what you called the devil had certainly been lurking around and now manifested itself in the obscene form of ellie fucking two of her fingers inside of you from behind in the scriptorium, something that dealt the final blow to any hope of creating the optimal conditions to demonstrate the good of your heart.

ellie and her breath, together with her hands, were four fiends cooperating under the same objectives, being disrupting you, disrupting everything you represented and disrupting everything you stood for.

"no one has ever made you feel so good," ellie was insane herself for needing to hear you say it "otherwise, you wouldn't be needing to play the part of the perfect little sister who thinks she can fix everyone to compensate how empty she is," and no matter how desperately you tried and tried and cried out while doing so, your pussy was glistening with slick, feeling euphoric and on the brink of madness with how enticing the sensation and the blasphemous words that left ellie's mouth were. "you would be too cock drunk and stuffed with cum to care about anything else".

the ink and quill you were previously using laid on your desk where they shouldn't, spilling the black liquid and dirtying everything they touched. ellie could be compared to the two items, given how many times the sisters told her how harmful her tainting existence was. and maybe that was the reason her brain clicked and gave the command to her right hand to gather some of the ink and write "ellie's cum dump" on your ass.

as soon as your breathing quickened, ellie grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanked it throwing your head impossibly backwards and let you ride out the hardest orgasm of your life. the gesture wasn't just a display of dominance but it served as a lever to push you flat against the desk, treating you like a discarded toy.

"next time you come for me, expect me to fuck your ass. and it won't be with my fingers only"

[theplumsoldier]

taking care

summary: on thursdays you and joel have a drink, but this time poor old joel is in need of a friend and makes a confession, which brings you closer than ever before.

pairing: joel miller x afab!reader

word count: 8,1k

warning: angst, alcohol consumption, talk of sad bad memories ;(joel tells you about everything that went down at the firefly hospital; killing-spree, lying to ellie, etc.), self-l oathing, crying joel, mutual pining, friends to lovers bro, vulgar language, some domestic bliss, friends to lovers trope!!! mdni 18+: mentions of masturbation and fantasizing about friends, oral (female receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, breeding kink, praise kink, pet names. let me know if i missed anything! <3<3

You found it ironic how you had longed for the sun's blazing rays to warm your body all winter when summer had finally reached Jackson and now you were whining and moaning because it felt like you were being fucking boiled alive.

The sweat tickled down your skin, perspiration spread in your hairline, threatening to bunch into droplets and fall from your nose and brow. Joel felt himself tense up at the sight. Dressed in washed denim shorts, a t-shirt, and worn cowboy boots—it was a sight to behold. You looked like an angel to a southern man, and Joel had to clear his throat to make sure his voice wouldn't fail him.

"Still goin' at it? It's Milton's job to take care 'o the horses, y'know."

Chuckling, you shook your head and dusted your shorts as you stood. Running a hand over your horse's mane, you gave Joel a smirk. "You know she don't like nobody but me."

He chuckled. Joel had noticed that the more time you had spent with him, the more his own southern drawl began to echo in your own voice. Not much, not enough for other people to notice, he doubted you yourself even did, but Joel noticed—and every time he got a taste of that sweet honeyed punctuation, his stomach practically somersaulted.

Today, you hadn't been on patrol together, as you had the morning call and he had the evening call. You knew he'd just gotten back. Typically he would shower after duty, but today he hadn't and you knew him well enough to know why.

"Had a rough run?"

Joel huffed in response, forcing himself to pry his eyes off of you for a second. He had never seen you in this little clothes before and was finding it quite difficult not to give you a one-over when you had turned to him completely.

You had tied your flannel around your waist, leaving your arms bare for the sun to tan and it was then he couldn't help himself. Your cleavage was revealed in the little top you wore, droplets of sweat glistening on your skin as they trailed—

Joel cleared his throat once again, "ya up for a nightcap?"

A sly smirk landed on your lips.

Leading your horse May back into the stables, you walked with Joel to his house, to share a drink or two as you did every so often. You sensed a sort of tradition forming, recalling you had done this exact play every Thursday for the past few months. Five out of seven days a week you patrolled together. On Mondays when you were both off duty you played pool. On two out of seven days, you were in no way obliged to see one another and yet, here you were, making it a tradition—ensuring that you would not go as long as 24 hours without keeping each other company.

You wanted to ask about the day he had had but decided against it and settled on asking how Ellie was doing instead. Having come to know Joel quite well, you understood he would rather let work-related matters stay work-related and it seemed fitting to veer your attention at Ellie as you recalled Joel saying she was doing good at school. You should've talked about the weather. The weather was a safe bet.

"S'it turns out she didn't even go—keeps holdin' out on me," Joel worried, clearly contemplating what might be on Ellie's mind.

Some weeks back, Joel had been thrilled to hear that Ellie was doing good in the school in Jackson, but as it turned out, she had lied to him about going. He wasn't sure where she'd run off to, and that bothered him more than the fact that she was keeping things like this from him—how could he keep her safe, if he didn't even know where she was?

It was clear Joel blamed himself for a lot of things, and though you were well aware he didn't always tell you everything just as Ellie didn't tell him everything, you never hesitated to assure him he was doing a good job. You admired the way he cared for her - it was obvious he loved her and she loved him - although you doubted they ever spoke of that. One night Joel had shared with you a portion of what Ellie had been through, and even admitted that there was a time, a brief span where Ellie had gone through hell for him and he didn't even know what she had endured back then—he blamed himself for a lot of things that happened to her, constantly reminding himself that he was not good enough, that he let her down. Joel hated that feeling, that he was failing yet another daughter and he needed to get a whole lot more of his chest, to talk to someone—to you, about what had happened before they returned to Jackson. He just never could, never knew how to begin nor how to explain why he'd done all those atrocities—what else might one call it? It was fucked up, all of it, but the situation had been so very fucked up too and he just needed someone to agree with him on that, he needed you to ensure him he had been right to make the choices that he did.

But Joel had always been good at keeping his feelings bottled up, letting them mix together over the years until an occasion allowed him to relieve some of the stress that concoction produced.

You had confronted him about it once when you had felt a small fraction of his anger—he had admitted and apologized, for it was so very unprompted he realized when he took it out on you, which led to a much more calm and collected conversation where you advised him to relieve himself of all that weight he insisted on carrying like fucking Atlas lifting the universe. While you didn't want to act like you were any better at that yourself - getting help, that is - he agreed you were right. In that moment he understood and doted the fact that you were willing to let your shoulder be one for him to cry upon if need be. Of course, he wasn't going to do that every chance given (patrolling helped a lot with his anger issues, giving him an excuse to commence violence); nevertheless, Joel felt touched to know you would be there for him.

Instead of dumbing his shitload of stress on you, he found himself going out of his way to see you outside of your communal duties, your company somehow helping in other ways. Though Joel never initiated any deep conversations with you, they happened every now and again and those nights, when he'd go to sleep, it felt as if he could rest just a bit easier.

The sun gradually went over the horizon, the blue sky melting into a nuance of lilac, bringing with it the cold and quiet air of night. This was a peace neither of you had experienced in a long time before settling down in Jackson and therefore as sacred and precious as a promise.

You helped yourself to another drink and Joel quietly watched on as you poured the liquid gold. Holding up the bottle you tipped your head to look at him, silently asking if he needed a refill.

Over the years Joel had become a man of few words and meeting you he suspected he had found his match. You only conversed freely around people you liked and enjoyed the company of, not nearly bothered enough to spare even a glare at those who didn’t deserve your time.

You decided to joke to lighten the mood and hoped you weren't overstepping. "Come on, Joel. I know you're older than me but you must've been a teenager at some point."

It made him snort and his brow jumped at the change of topic though he wasn't about to object. You adored it when he looked at you like that; the way he glared when you teased him or made him laugh. "If I was I sure don't remember."

Joel downed the rest of his drink and held out the glass. You leaned forward and poured him a couple of inches and for a second Joel slipped, forgetting his guard and manners as he watched more of your chest expose to him. He wasn't sure when his attraction had begun, but he had noticed that lately he just couldn't seem to oppress it. Joel would waste away at night, fighting the urge to let himself give in to his desires and fantasize about you as he fisted his cock—and he was strong on that part. It was hard (and in more ways than one) but he felt disrespectful even thinking of you like that. He was supposed to be your friend; and what kind of friend would he be if he was ready to betray your trust when he was feeling lonely.

He gulped.

Finally prying his eyes off of you, Joel wet his dry lips and slushed the drink around the cup.

"You're a generous bartender," he remarked sarcastically.

You laughed.

"You've got expressive eyes, you know that?"

He stopped with the rim of the glass at the tip of his lip, pausing, fearing he had been caught. The thump, thump, thump of his heart resonated in his ears.

"'S that so?" he pondered. "What're they tellin' ya?"

Joel hoped you didn't notice the way his breath hitched in his throat when you leaned back in the rocking chair with a smug smirk on your lips.

"That you were a troublemaker," you grinned. "But you never got in trouble 'cause you were so damn charming as a kid. Probably shoplifted gum or some shit."

Joel laughed. You weren't too far off; he did occasionally get into trouble and he did usually get out of it with no problem—his mom had called him the luckiest boy in the world. The memory struck a cynical thought in his mind; he might have been lucky but not enough to miss the end of the world.

Joel decided to entertain your guessing game. "I ain't ever shoplifted. Didn't have the guts for it," he tutted before taking a swig. "'F I had it would've been condoms though."

Your eyes squinted and crinkled as you bit back a cackle. Your head fell back and your chest bubbled with laughter and he knew he shouldn't have made the last comment when he felt his cock strain against the seams of his washed jeans.

"Joel Miller—scared of a lil' thievin'?" you teased, moving your boot from the porch railing to shove at his thigh.

There was that southern accent you had obtained from him again.

He masqueraded his discomfort by shoving back at your foot with a chuckle—he wasn't sure why he kept his hand on your boot though, keeping it in the place you had put it.

"I didn't have sex till I was like 24..." Joel's expression turned sour as he noticed yours did the same and sensed a bitter memory. Then you mused, trying to make light of the bitter picture that flashed in your mind: "Thought it was love. Turns out it was fear."

You shook your head as if to shake the thoughts out. You'd been through a lot since then, toughened up and become brave enough to fight for yourself, but the memory was still clear. You had vowed to never trust another man again which was why it made this blooming attraction to Joel Miller all the more difficult. The last thing you had considered when coming to Jackson was to try and build a life, and yet; here you were, having built a life with friends and found family in a prospering community with a steady ass job and bars and cafés and all that shit as if the world had never ended.

It seemed almost like you had been feigning sadness for your mien changed so abruptly it caught Joel off guard. You said with casual indifference: "How 'bout you? Ever manage to find love in this fucked up world?"

Joel wasn't sure if you were testing him. You had said he had expressive eyes and completely misread his mind—now he wondered if it was on purpose. The way you nudged him with your boot (that he was still holding onto) told him you were very aware of what you did to him.

And you noticed—of course, you noticed the way his eyes would effortlessly glide over your body, down your body whenever you moved an inch. You had noticed his attention before, but not like this. Not when it shamelessly continued when you had caught him and it made you realize you were not making stuff up in your mind.

Joel wanted you, too.

Now you just wanted him to admit it.

"Once or twice," he finally admitted though his answer gave you little to work with.

You supposed it was the question and not the answer that was the problem; there's a fine line between loving another person, caring for another person, liking a person, and enjoying their company. You had once been told that one could determine if they loved someone, romantically, in just a few minutes by looking into the other person's eyes. It made you wonder—how long would it take you? Would you find that you did in fact love Joel Miller after just 3 minutes? Or would you find that there were more cons than pros to your relationship? Perhaps you might hate him, and this attraction was spurred on by a sadistic kind of hatred and a need to put him in a vulnerable position.

No. That seemed unlikely.

When you first met him you thought he was arrogant, manipulative, and cocky.

Now that you had spent so much one-on-one time with him, you had realized he was confident, persuasive, and fearless. He seemed impossibly skeptical because he was cautious, and he appeared bossy but that was just him being self-asserted.

You couldn't possibly blame a man for being confident when the trait suited him so well. Right now, you had just hoped he was confident enough to let you know how he felt.

Suddenly you shivered. The days had become unbearably warm but the nights were equally unrelenting with the cold.

"It's getting cold."

"Y'wanna call it a night?"

"I'd rather go inside," you shrugged blatantly as if it was not a big deal. It was. Despite how long you had known Joel and how often you were in his company, you had never been beyond this porch, never stepped into the humble residence. You pressed, watching him rather intently: "S'that weird?"

Joel's fingers were intertwined in his lap, thumbs picking at each other. There was a blank yet somehow inquisitive look in his brown eyes and you couldn't tell if it was because his mind was going over what you were offering or because the whiskey had caught up to him.

He let go of his lip with a tsk and shook his head. His gaze softened, and a faint but certain smirk tugged the corner of his mouth. "Not at all."

Joel made the move to stand up and your boot found the ground below with a thud. He grasped the two glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other, then pushed the door handle with his elbow.

Inside the walls were painted a deep orange and it reminded you of curry. Though it was not a nice color, it made the room appear warm and cozy with the lights on. There was a green couch which pretty much made up the living area. A bartop separated the kitchen from the dining room and there was a small mess atop the table where you supposed Ellie had been drawing. It was only then you noticed the art decorating the house, Ellie's drawings displayed in beautiful gold frames like in a museum. It made you chuckle.

"Where's Ellie anyway?"

Joel slouched down on the couch, arms spreading around the back and you looked over just in time to catch him parting his legs, thick thighs smothering the couch cushion, looking oh so big and handsome. What a slut, you thought.

You occupied the space left beside him, pulling your legs up under your body, and thanked him as he handed you your glass. In an effort to test the waters, you let your fingers brush over his knuckles as you accepted the drink, watching him closely. He shifted a bit, but in no way trying to distance himself from you. Your knees rested against his thigh and you could've sworn he only moved his leg closer to you.

"She's with that girl Cora."

"Flemmings?"

"Yeah."

Cora Flemmings was a sweet girl, not the type you would have guessed Ellie would want to hang out with, but you guess that's where your relationship with her ended. You had realized she was quite likable early on, witty and smart, too, but that was about it. She didn't allow a lot of people to get close, and you supposed that was fair all things considered—still, you couldn't help but feel you had let her down. It was stupid, really, but being as close a friend to Joel as you were, it felt like you should know her better.

A shared a couple of more drinks, just lounging on the couch, side by side, your shoulder pressed against his. It was not unusual for Joel to be quiet even when you would go on talking about whatever came to mind, but you noticed he was being more unresponsive than normal. You knew him too well to think he was getting drowsy from the mix of the late hour and the whiskey. His mind was on something else, and again you wanted to pry, but you knew better than to do so.

To your surprise, he let you in: "Can I tell you something?"

It was a stark contrast of serious pondering compared to the mindless rambling of life in outer space, going from negative numbers to a hundred in a split second. You were caught off guard, but tilting to look at Joel instead of the ceiling, you nodded softly.

It was difficult not to notice the tension in his body, sitting close to him and all. Feeling his chest rise with labored breaths, watching his jaw clench and loosen up, only to flex again, you realized something far deeper than extraterrestrials was on his mind.

Nothing could have prepared you for the burden he was about to unload. Joel resumed to tell you how when he had first met Ellie, she had been nothing more than precious cargo to the Fireflies, a girl believed to be immune to Cordyceps. It was his mission to get her to Salt Lake City, but when he and Ellie reached St. Mary’s Hospital, he discovered that the doctors would have to perform a brain operation. It would kill her. Everything that had happened up until that point had been for that specific moment. His bottom lip trembled as he told you he didn't even have to think about it before he grabbed the gun and started shooting. "It was easy," he said as tears welled up in his eyes. After spending months protecting and getting to know Ellie, getting to love her like his own daughter—he wasn't about to not rescue her from yet another certain death. He recalled how they'd had a brief moment before it all, where Ellie admitted she wanted to stay with Joel after the procedure. "Used it as an excuse," he cried silently. "She 'ad no idea she wouldn't come out on the other side."

Your heart sank as it all dawned on you. Everyone involved robbed Ellie of any agency at all.

What seemed to be the worst part for Joel, though, was when he lied to her. Saying she asked him point-blank to tell her the truth of what had happened back there. He spoke through gritted teeth, his gravelly voice clawing its way through his heart in his throat: "Then I told her the fattest lie."

You wanted to jump in, reassure him he did what he thought was right and at least gave her a chance of life. But you couldn't. It was too big a mouthful, too tough to swallow it all at once and give him some not-thought-through assurance.

It was a lot to take in.

You had never doubted Joel would do everything in his power to protect the ones he loved, but this—it was all too visual to get behind. Impeding finding a cure, the rampage through the hospital, the lying. It was easy to see Joel hated every part of what he had done, though he did not regret it. It was horrifying to think, but it didn't not sit right with you.

That's what parents were supposed to be, right?

Protectors.

He might have acted out of his own interest; he might have stripped her of what she believed—what she wanted to be her destiny, but he did it out of love.

You couldn't possibly sit here and say you wouldn't have gone full-on Attica to save the ones you loved. You couldn't possibly tell him you would have done the same either. In more than one way, you were much like Joel, only you hadn't had that kind of bond with anyone in a long time, and so it was impossible for you to understand everything Joel had gone through, everything he still went through.

At this point became quiet, his soft sniffles reduced to staggered breaths. His hands shook in his lap as his fingers fidgeted. You reached across and took his hands in yours, the size difference almost comical in your smaller ones.

"I hate that you went through that, Joel," you began, biting your lip as you contemplated your words. "It was... It might not have been a difficult choice then, but it's no doubt difficult to live with."

You hated to think he had done that, but you could see that he, most of all, was disgusted with himself for lying to her. That would have hurt him more than anything else he had done that day, and it was evident he hated himself for that.

You squeezed his hands between your own, prompting him to look at you.

"You did what you thought was right. You did everything in your power to protect her. You can't possibly be wrong for that."

His eyes dropped and his face contorted, beating himself up. Although his head bobbed in a quiet nod, agreeing with you, your words didn't do much to convince him.

You wanted to cry, loathing the thought that you couldn't convince him he was not a bad man, couldn't help him.

A different approach then.

You were aware that Joel possessed an innate distrust in systems: He had shared with you his experiences with the government back in the day, his experience with the Fireflies, his experience with FEDRA. Nobody had ever worked in his favor.

You were so focused on helping him that you didn't even realize you had reached up to cup his cheek. Stray tears bedewed the upper edge of his stubbles, and you caressed the patch mindlessly with your thumb. You had never been this close.

"Hey," you whispered softly, keeping his despondent brown eyes on you. It broke you but you put on a determined face. "It's okay, you're okay, Joel—you're here. Don't beat yourself up about it, it's okay."

He didn't believe that. Joel's mind was in turmoil, his thoughts turning on him, torturing him.

His eyes squinted, forcing a new wave of tears to flow and you shook him, more harshly than you meant to. "Joel, hey—hey! Look at me, look at me, Joel."

He forced himself to snap out of it, a sharp inhale clawed its way down his throat, forcing his lungs to be filled. The scent of you, the scent of a day's work and macadamia shampoo, calming his senses.

It's okay.

You're okay.

You're safe.

Finally, his labored breaths ceased and he managed to stop trembling. Bringing himself to look at you, you didn't miss the way he gulped, his expression turning soft with the remains of deep lines carving his features.

"Good, you're doing good, Joel," you praised, too close, too deep in it not to brush the fallen strings of dark, matted hair out of his face. "Look whose to say these people had any clue what they were doing? Hell, even if they did manage it—say they produced a cure—what then? How'd they distribute it? How'd they manage to cure the last of us while the Cordyceps is still out there, constantly mutating? I—I mean they might be able to save a couple hundred, maybe thousands—but what's the use? People would get infected along the way, people like us, who are safe here in Jackson, we'd go out there again and risk our lives just to get the vaccine—a-and what for? We've already lost this battle. S'it really worth saving what's left?"

As the tension of your rant died down, you suddenly became very conscious of the way you held onto Joel. Your hands had settled on his shoulders for purchase, and the fleeting thought of how fucking broad they were this up close, made shame crawl your skin.

Dropping your hands, you watched him intently, looking for signs of discomfort, hoping you hadn't gone too far.

Though his expression was difficult to read, your gut told you he was grounded again, and you boldly leaped at the opportunity to provide that last bit of assurance.

You wet your lips and sighed.

"I won't act like I know what is right and what is wrong, but I can't blame you for doing what you believed to be the moral choice. You are not the villain."

Watching as he was deep in thought, a pang of guilt struck you. On more than one occasion, had you accused Joel of being prone to overthinking. From experience, you knew that entailed tossing words around to better fit the negative narrative in one's brain, and now you worried you might have said too much to have been any help at all.

Worriedly, you spoke your mind: "I hope I didn't say too much, make matters worse."

Joel didn't look at you just yet, but he instantly shook his head. "No, no," he muttered, collecting his thoughts. Breathing in was easier now, he noted, the pinching strain in his chest changed for something else. A small chuckle escaped him and he cleared his throat and shifted in the couch to cover it up, as if he didn't mean to let it slip. Turning to you, there was a small glint in his eyes. "Thank you. Really, I… You know, wouldn't 'ave vented to you like that if I expected you to keep your mouth shut. Trust me, you didn't make me feel worse, doll."

Doll. It played on a loop in your mind.

Doll, doll, doll.

"S'good," you mumbled, eyes flickering down his chest. "Cause, you know, really ain't what I was goin' for."

Joel's chest rumbled with a chuckle. There it is again, he mused to himself. That little accent he must have rubbed off on you and that thing in his body tickled his insides again. It had been a long time since he had felt this way, but it was unmistakable.

It dawned on you that you must have been looking at him with the sickly adoration of a girl in love, for when the grin faded it was replaced by—confusion, maybe? Curiosity?

"What?" you blurted, mentally deadpanning for albeit short, it was a sweet moment of quietness and you went ahead and made it weird.

Joel then looked puzzled, his head tilting like a bewildered dog asked if it wanted to go for a walk.

Your heart missed a beat at the look in his eye, another when the brown orbs dropped and lingered on your lips. As if the air had been knocked out of you, you suddenly felt breathless, frozen in place as if struck by fear and you wondered how you could be so stupid. What else could it be—not confusion, not curiosity but the need for knowing; if the same thing that was happening to his heart was happening to yours?

"I-I—" you stammered but were quickly cut off as Joel jumped from the couch as if he had realized he was late for something.

"I, uhh," Joel interrupted though he had no better speech prepared than you had. He scratched the underside of his arm, looking both bashful and hot with embarrassment.

The silence resumed and you stood up as well, trying to figure out what the hell to do with your arms so that you wouldn't look so awkward. "Tell you what, you uh—you go clean up and I'll make a little dinner and we'll eat and I'll get outta your hairs, then." The thought of leaving didn't sound as appealing as you thought it would. Making a fool of yourself, just a second ago, ruining whatever that had been, you would have jumped at the opportunity to hide under the covers, but now—you didn't like that idea one bit. You reminded him—but mostly yourself: "We still got an early morning tomorrow."

Joel frowned, shaking his head. "No, yeah, yeah—you're right, sure."

Without another stumbling attempt at conversation, he spun around and disappeared, feet trotting to the sound of his palpitating heartbeat.

Locking himself in the bathroom, Joel immediately started cursing as he scrabbled about, ending up with his palms firmly pressed against the sink.

Finding his reflection in the mirror, he stared into his own eyes for a minute, collecting his crumbling self. "Get it together."

Stripping out of his clothes, Joel turned the faucet on and stepped into the shower, not bothering to wait for the water to get hot. He needed to cool down, anyway.

He couldn't get the moment out of his head and wondered if he had misread the entire thing. Could it be, that he had merely been so entranced by his own emotions, that he resorted to some simple wish-thinking? Perhaps you realized, coming out of the sympathetic spell, that you cared for him no more than a friend.

Joel scrubbed harder down his body, heedless to the itch that burned around his newly acquired wounds and scratches.

He couldn't get the image out of his head: The way you had looked at him as you clutched his face in your hands, comforting him—it wasn't how friends looked at each other, no matter how much they cared for one another. Joel looked for signs of the same display of affection earlier in the night, and he recalled your banter, your boot teasingly pushing at his leg, and the way you watched him over the rim of the glass.

Stepping out of the shower, he had managed to get his spiraling thoughts under control, sweep them under the carpet, if you will. Drying off, Joel was about to leave the bathroom in nothing but a towel, as one often would in their own home, but reminded himself that you were in his kitchen.

Not wanting to make you uncomfortable, he begrudgingly jumped into a fresh set of clothes, sporting a pair of sweatpants and a tee when he reappeared in the living room.

Joel cursed his own stupidity when he saw you standing there, mindlessly swaying your hips to Y Andale playing in the background (you had found his stereo) as you stirred the pot. He should have put on a pair of briefs to hold the hardening outline of his cock in place.

When you turned around to place the pot on a felt coaster on the dining table, you gave a start as you saw Joel just standing there. He looked devilishly good in the plain outfit, hair damp and slicked back.

You offered him a smirk. “Hope you don’t mind—jus’ couldn’t help myself when I noticed the stereo.”

All the reasons as to why Joel couldn't do a thing about his attraction to you, all the strength he had just mustered in the bathroom to hold himself back; it all went down the drain as he became aware of the vividly domestic setting before him.

You had little time to assess the situation as Joel closed the space between you in just four strides. Before you knew it, one large hand cupped your cheek and another pulled you close by the waist. There was a split second of that something again, and then he pressed his lips to yours.

Your eyes fluttered close and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning into his touch (not that you wanted to). His lips felt dangerously soft and puffy, surprisingly warm and inviting as they passionately touched your own. In a delirious moment, the fresh scent of him veiled you like a pleasant comforter after a long day at work, those plush lips wrapping around yours, nibbling, sucking—all too much and not nearly enough at the same time.

Breaking apart for air, you felt light-headed, like the room was spinning and you were hot with fever.

It looked as if the black of his pupils had swallowed up the brown of his irises. You were weak, thinking you were the root of his lust. Joel breathed your name.

"S'this okay?"

Biting your lip, you blushed. Putting it into words somehow made it seem all the more real. Even if it was a dream, you hoped you would never wake up.

You let out a shaky breath, unable to hold back the small chuckle it turned into. "You don't have to ask, Joel."

He chuckled then, too, realizing it was probably a bit too late for that anyway. The way your teeth let your lower lip go only made his cock grow harder. Holding you closer, firmer against him, Joel sucked in a breath. "F'you let me, I don't think I can stop."

You prayed he could feel your heart beating against his chest, the way you could feel his cock poke your lower stomach.

Searching for his eyes, you nudged your nose against his. "I don't think I ever want you to stop."

He didn't waste another second.

Crashing his lips to yours, the kiss was more heated than the first, showing you exactly how much he wanted you. Swiping his tongue against your lip, you let him in without hesitation, tasting him for the very first time. Tongues dancing and teeth clashing, Joel snaked his arms down your body, lifting you from under your thighs with a grunt.

You were so caught up in finding his soft spots, kissing him gingerly on his neck, that you didn't realize where he was carrying you until you were splayed out on his bed, melting into the mattress.

Eagerly reconnecting your lips, you found yourself having completely forgotten about the soup, relishing the feeling of the open-mouthed kisses Joel pressed to your skin.

Moaning as he nibbled the skin below your ear, you pulled his face back up to yours, wanting to prolong the kiss. He gave in to your desires but trailed his lips down your neck as your fingers entangled with his hair and you began writhing beneath him.

Finding that sweet spot he had only gotten to graze before you pulled him away, he brought his lips close to your ears and whispered: "You gonna let me take care o' you now?"

Too lost in the sensation, the feeling of his warm lips brushing your skin, the press of his body weight against yours, you couldn't do anything but moan, whimpering a small “please”. He could do whatever he wanted with you.

Noting the bliss you were caught in, Joel chuckled, but he was determined on an audible confirmation. Grasping you by the jaw, he forced you back down on earth. "Tell me you want me."

Brows furrowed and hips desperately bucking up, you whined and responded, "please, please, Joel—need you."

Joel had to steady himself against you, feeling his muscles weaken at the sweet, sweet sound of your begging.

"S'a good girl," murmured he, letting his hands roam every curve of your body, every hill, and every cleft. Squeezing your hip, you felt the coarse pads of his fingers caress the skin beneath your top. "Take this off f'me, yeah?"

You quickly got rid of it, not particularly eager to move your hands from his body. Joel laced his fingers through yours, pressing your hands at either side of your head as he eagerly kissed you, his warm tongue darting out of its cave to invite you to dance.

His palm kneaded your breast, a low groan escaping him which you swallowed down, moaning when his coarse thumb swiped across your nipple.

"Can I take these off, baby?" he asked lowly, and you whimpered meekly, bucking your hips up in response.

Joel worked your shorts off of you, and it seemed to get ten degrees hotter in the bedroom. He had left your panties on and as he trailed a path of wet kisses down your body, you groaned pathetically.

"Joel, please," you begged, not sure whether you wanted his fingers or his mouth, his tongue or his cock.

"I know, pretty girl, I know," he hummed, but there was little sympathy in his tone. A wanton sound escaped you when one of his fingers expertly nudged your clit, like he already knew your body like the back of his hand. "Look at you, baby, so pretty and ready f'me."

You had never given it much thought, whether Joel was one for pillow talk, but you certainly didn't mind it. You couldn't even be flustered about the mess you must have made in your panties; not when his eyes were enlivened with adoration and words laced with desire, not when his touch felt so enticing.

Joel pushed your panties aside and ran his fingers through your slick, kissing and nibbling at your inner thigh.

Moaning, a chain of pleas left your lips. Another low chuckle escaped him and you barely managed to pout down at him before his tongue darted out, collecting your arousal in a long, painfully slow lick. Eyes fluttering shut, they rolled to the back of your head while your hands clutched the sheets so hard your knuckles turned white.

"Holy—f-fuck!"

His nose, so perfectly shaped rubbed against your clit and his beard tickled your sex, making you squirm.

Joel used his hands to part your legs further, giving them a squeeze to let you know to keep them in place. His fingers spread your sex and groaned when his thumb played with the bundle of nerves.

As his tongue licked up and down your wet pussy, your legs threatened to close in on him and he must have noticed your struggling because he praised you, murmuring you were doing so good for him. You spread your legs as if on command, determined to be worthy of the praise.

While his thumb circled your clit, a finger prodded against your opening, coating it in your arousal as Joel slipped inside and he grunted. "So damn tight for me, baby girl."

So concentrated on holding your legs in place while he worked you closer to the edge, you involuntarily ground down on his hand, adding to the pressure on your clit, and felt his thick finger spread you so deliciously.

He chuckled, "y'want more, huh?" Adding another finger to the mix, he curled two digits against your spongy walls and you cried out. "I know, I know, baby. You're doing so good, pretty girl, clenchin' down real nice—fuck."

Joel allowed you to feel him as he worked his fingers in and out of your sex at a tauntingly slow rhythm, leaving you to feel the stretch when he was knuckles-deep.

"Fas—fuck! Faster Joel," you moaned, panting as you became increasingly impatient to reach the impending orgasm.

Joel watched you intently, jaw slack, and peppered open-mouthed kisses on your thighs. He picked up the pace, grinding his own hips into the mattress.

"Fuck, baby—that's it, keep makin' those pretty lil' noises for me. Doin' so good," he encouraged, feeling his mouth wet with drool.

"Please—want your cock, Joel," you whined needily.

"I know, I know, baby girl," he sympathized, squeezing your thigh as if to comfort you. It only made you shift beneath him, as his fingers seized pumping, curling against your clenching cunt. He lulled, "you can take a third, right?"

Any answer close to making itself audible was interrupted by his tongue lapping at your clit, adding to the euphoric sensation of three fingers prodding your entrance. A moan got stuck in your throat and your head slammed back down on the pillow, crying at the stretch.

Joel must've sensed your orgasm approaching for he increased the steady thrusting, his movements not once stuttering while his tongue persistently flicked your clit. A wave rushed over you as he coerced the orgasm to be ripped from your writhing body with inaudible praises, letting you ride out your frenzy on his now-soaked face.

Bleary-eyed, hands balling up the sheets, you willed yourself the strength to look down at the sight—and by God, it truly was a sight.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, revealing a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. Your cheeks flushed red, and you pulled him into your neck to hide your embarrassment, as if he hadn't just eaten you out as if his life depended on it.

Joel held your face, eyes mindlessly scanning over your features. "Don't be shy now, baby, tastes goddamn delicious," he hummed with a satisfied lull to his tone, pressing his lips to yours.

"No one's ever done that," you blurted, not entirely sure why you would even admit that.

A frown settled on his face, something resembling disbelief and amusement, and then a strained touch of lust padded over his expression. He was not hesitant to admit that only turned him on all the more. Joel’s ego even told him you had been waiting, saving yourself just for him.

You reached between you to pull down his sweatpants and Joel was happy to let you help him out of his constraints: He had had to stop grinding into the mattress while going to town for fear that he might cream his pants. That would have been embarrassing, busting like some teenager finally getting some action. Though he was touch starved, he would hate to wait any longer—he needed to finally feel you—finally be a part of you.

You had always imagined Joel would have a big cock, but your fantasy scenarios did him no justice—he was long and thick, heavy as his weeping tip pushed against your entrance, and you realized why he had insisted on stretching you out first.

Your sex lives had never been a topic brought up in conversation prior to today, but you could imagine he knew it had been a long damn time. Feeling his cock prod against your sex, you felt thankful for the forethought.

"Fuck," Joel shuddered, sheathing himself in your cunt. His forehead bumped against yours. "So damn tight f'me, baby girl."

You latched your hands onto his shoulders for support, wincing at every inch he filled you with.

Joel hadn't noticed he had been holding his breath before he bottomed out in you, a ragged groan finally releasing itself from his dry throat. He caught your heavy-lidded eyes with a boyish smirk—he could hardly believe this was happening, after so long. "How ya feelin'?"

You let out a breathy chuckle, overwhelmed by the aphrodisiac that was the mixture of his smell and his touch. "Over the fuckin' moon."

The worry vanished, wiping his face clean to replace it with another expression, a search.

You tucked him closer, grasping his ass to feel him better. "Fuck me now."

Cock twitching, saluting your command, and obeying your wish, he pulled back, thrusting his hips forward in a grinding motion that had you gasping for air, eyes rolling back.

Joel pressed sultry kisses to your neck, to your cheek, and to the corner of your mouth. Cupping your face in one palm and holding himself up by his elbow, he forced you to come back to him. "Eyes on me, pretty girl."

There's a spot inside you, one you can't recall ever reaching, but when Joel does you're sure your fingernails dig little crescents into his skin. White hot blurs your vision, a string of wanton moans and curses leaving your lips, panting. "Holy shit."

Your hands roam over the expanse of his chest as his thrusts become harder, more relentless. The sun-kissed skin warms your palms and your foreheads brush, breaths shared.

"Fuck, it's like y'were made for me," he sighed, brows creased in concentration and eyes fixated on where his cock disappeared inside your cunt. The sounds of skin slapping were so fucking vulgar and he's right, you thought, and he was made for you, too.

His rhythm was designed to make you see stars. The coil in your stomach tightened and he must have felt you squeezing around him, for the motions only became harsher, his hips crashing into yours in precise strokes.

Joel's head drooped, nose brushing your temple as he shook his head. "M'not gonna last much longer," he confessed lowly.

Dexterous fingers snaked between your sweat-licked bodies and he rubbed your clit, desperate to feel you come around his cock.

Gasping, holding onto his shoulders as he rocked your body back and forth, you forced his eyes to lock with yours. "Come inside me, Joel," you begged fervently, and you knew it was risky, very fucking risky, in fact, but you couldn't care less—you wanted to feel all of him.

The didn't deter him one bit, however, if anything it spurred him on, the jolts of his hips becoming animalistic. He found purchase on your shoulders, holding you in place so that he could better fuck up into you. His hips began stuttering, sinful groans falling from his dirty mouth. "You want me t'fill you up, yeah? Want everyone to know who you belong to? That's it, baby, come around my cock 'n I'll fill you up real good."

Losing yourself to the mind-wrangling orgasm, your legs spasmed and you cried his name, repeating it like a prayer while he fucked you through yours, chasing his own.

With one, two, three thrusts, he spilled inside you, burying his cock deep in your cunt as his purchase buckled under his weight. You didn't care that he collapsed on you—you had never felt better, never felt more full.

Coming down from your highs, you held him close even when he slumped down against your side, his softening cock slipping out of your sex.

For a few moments, you just lay there, regaining your breath, feeling the reality of it all wash back over you. It felt silly having to summon the courage to face him again, but you couldn't help the blush that colored your cheeks.

Joel spoke first. "Can't believe it took us so damn long," he mused, somewhat dumbfounded with a grimace of disbelief. You melted when his strong arm cradled you closer to his chest.

You nuzzled your face into his neck, sighing quietly along to the rise and fall of his breathing. Yawning, you drowsily mumbled, "I don't ever wanna leave your side, Joel."

Joel pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, holding you close as he felt sleep closing in on him. "You won't, sweetheart. I won't let you." Your heart was racing but sleep managed to pull you under its grasp. Joel relished the languid hum you offered in response, and he brushed the hair from your face, kissing you one last time. He could barely wait to wake up with you in the morning. "Sweet dreams, pretty girl."

[giorno-plays-piano]

Her Fault

Pairing: yandere!Toji Fushiguro x reader

Warnings: implied noncon, spiked drink, stalking, kidnapping, obsession, mention of Stockholm syndrome, Toji being a part of a gang.

Words: 1.2k

Summary: Toji knows nearly everything about her. Who she is, where she works, what's her address, where she keeps her keys, the code to unlock her phone... Except for the last two things, he didn't even need to have someone to spy on her because she told him everything herself. Somehow, she felt like she could trust him, poor girl. He appreciates her lapse in judgment.

_________

"You should try something new for a change," Toji says with that smug expression on his face, making the woman next to him frown. "No offense, but those pathetic margaritas will be the end of you one day."

For a second, she looks stunned by his audacity, but it doesn't take her long to bite back at him, "Says who? The I-only-drink-whisky guy?"

He lets out a laugh at that, shaking his head. "Fair enough. How about we both try a new thing?"

As she stills, contemplating his offer, he already knows he'll win. She will order whatever he tells her to, and she will drink it like a good girl, not being able to tell the difference between the real drink and whatever concoction he will give her. Wouldn't work with a margarita she's been ordering ever since she appeared here one Friday evening.

He first saw her about half a year ago, wearing a fancy black dress and high heels like she was at the gala, not a local bar. Her hair was perfectly coiffed, and she wore that classy sort of makeup that suggested she was either at the wrong place or came here straight after work for god knows what reasons. Toji had no idea why she would show up at this bar dressed that way. Did she want to get laid and didn't know how?

The guy sitting next to her at the counter probably arrived at the same conclusion but dumbly decided to chase after her in the most stupid fashion, giving Toji an excuse to send him "I-will fucking-end-you" look and flex his biceps: girls digged that shit, and he was sure she'd take the bait. Naturally, the drunk dumbass left in a second while the woman looked impressed and thanked him for help. It was only natural to strike a conversation.

Pretty much first time going to a bar, she confessed, ordering a margarita. Why? She was a workaholic and, in addition, despised drunk people who couldn't control themselves. Why did she finally come? Wanted to find out what it's like since one drink couldn't hurt that much.

He thought she smelled really fucking nice.

Surprisingly, he didn't bang her the first night because she had a way with words that made him talk more than he usually did, and, by the time she was about to leave, he didn't feel like spoiling her first bar experience. She was probably going to return, anyway. Besides, Toji didn't like feeling so much at ease with a stranger, given the specifics of his work, so he was going to ring someone he knew to do a quick check-up on her and make sure that evening wasn't some elaborately planned scheme. God help her if it was.

But she was just an ordinary woman with an ordinary job with no relation to his business, so when she came the next Friday, Toji thought it was fucking nice to actually talk to someone for once. Why not? She wasn't even looking for a hookup, just for a human company.

That time, she wore a lovely dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, too, but she wasn't flirting with him even the slighest bit. He wasn't sure if he should have been offended by her lack of interest or felt good because she wanted to actually know him.

Since then, every Friday, she waltzes into the bar in her pretty dresses, smelling delicious, lands on the seat next to him, and talks to him like he's a friend. Not once has she batted her eyelashes at him or realized he was flaunting his physique one way or the other to flirt with her. She does, however, seem interested in how he's doing without being invasive or patronal, and it's been a really long time since anyone was that close to him. It genuinely feels good to see her face every Friday and hear her voice.

Toji knows nearly everything about her. Who she is, where she works, what's her address, where she slips her keys, the code to unlock her phone... Except for the last two things, he didn't even need to have someone to spy on her because she told him everything herself. Somehow, she felt like she could trust him, poor girl. He appreciates her lapse in judgment.

"Does that guy from work still bother you?" he asks, giving the barmen a sign to make that cocktail for her and looking back at her as if he really needs an answer. In reality, he already knows she has rejected the creep, and it pleases him to no end.

"No, thank God," she huffs, wincing like from a toothache. "Why the Hell do I attract all sorts of assholes? My own damn father has been an ass to me, too."

"Huh, your father?" Toji sends her a smirk. "Got daddy issues?

He can tell her face is burning even without looking at her expression.

"Oh my God, Toji!" She slaps his hand slightly, embarrassed and annoyed at his antics. "Why are you saying it like we're in a porno?"

That gets a good laugh out of him, and she visibly relaxes, smiling, before she promptly excuses herself to the bathroom, and the barmen finally lands her drink on the counter, secretly nodding to the man on the other side. There's nothing really dangerous in there that wouldn't get out of her system in a day, but that's enough time for Toji to finish everything he has planned.

Really, it's her fault for being naive and so fucking pretty. He could have already fucked her ages ago and forgotten all about the woman, but she just has to be too damn nice for her own good, making him long for Friday night and hear her talk. Besides, what is he supposed to do when she doesn't date and doesn't see even his most obvious attempts to flirt with her? He takes the easiest way out, really.

The drugs in her drink will make her pliant like a kitten, but, considering it's her third cocktail, it'll be a piece of cake to make her believe she just got drunk and ended up sleeping with him. Then he'll explain how she confessed to him and mention he likes her too. Depending on how it goes, Toji's prepared for 2 different outcomes: one, she accepts, and they start dating before he makes his next move; two, he chains her to his bed and waits till the Stockholm syndrome or whatever this thing's called kicks in and rewires her brain. Logically speaking, he prefers the first one, but his patience is wearing thin, and now he contemplates if he should just go with the second plan, anyway.

When she comes back, her delicious scent making him hard again, Toji sends her a smug smile and hands her the glass. Whatever she does, he knows where she'll end up after tonight.

__________

Tags: @minshookie29

[glittergelpensblog]

When You Know, You Know

Azriel x Reader! Note: I may have gotten drunk and listened to Margaret by Lana del Rey. Here is a little blurb I wrote while doing that:) Summary: Y/N is scared of love, but a certain Shadowsinger throws those fears out the window. Word Count: 1015

When you met Azriel you just… knew. 

It was over. All of it. Every single piece of yourself was handed over to him whether you liked it or not. Because every single piece of bone and flesh, every drop of blood, every nerve in your body yearned for him. 

You had met Feyre at one of her painting classes in Velaris, one which you had taken your niece to. You had decided to stay with your niece during the painting, and when your sister came to pick her up, you had offered to help Feyre clean up.

The painting with your niece became a weekly occurrence. And over the course of time, the classes got busier, and Feyre had asked you to work for her. Organize the classes, help clean up, just simple tasks that were too much added to her plate along with her High Lady duties.

They were also simple tasks you were paid way too generously for. 

It was on one of those days, simple and peaceful, when Azriel walked through the doors of the studio and wrecked your entire being. 

Everything you knew, everything you had been taught, everything you loved had a new meaning. And that meaning was turned into the being of the elusive Shadowsinger. 

Because, gods damned, he was beautiful, and charming, and he was everything you should avoid. But all you wanted to do was know him. 

You contemplated the last time a person had ever made you feel that way, or ever at all. Had you allowed yourself to get that close to someone? Ever allowed yourself that vulnerability of loving someone like that?

No. The answer was no. You knew what love could do. How it could destroy one’s entire being. How it could make the most intelligent of people look so… stupid. But you couldn’t help yourself. Maybe just this once. Maybe it would work. 

Maybe you knew. 

And all your self restraint was gone when you peered up at him from the sink, washing paint off of the last class's brushes. You couldn’t just sit there like an idiot. You had to say something. 

“If you’re here for Feyre, she just left. But if Rhysand sent you here to get information on her new assistant, that would be me.”

And from there it was history. 

What you did to earn the Shadowsinger’s love, you didn’t know. And you never dared to ask. You gripped onto what you were given so hard, you were sure it had claw marks, but you did not care, did not think, and yet every day you were scared that all that was left of your love would be those claw marks forever embedded into the fiber of your being. 

Scared, you were so scared. You had yet to love like this, yet to have allowed yourself to feel as deeply as this in a long, long time. 

You had sort of loved, once long ago. Almost fifty years ago. And it had ended so tumultuously that you had barred yourself from ever loving again, from ever allowing yourself to feel the kind of pain you had felt when that love had left you in the dirt. 

“Are you just going to stare at me all night, or are you going to watch what this party’s actually about?”

You blushed, tearing your eyes from the Shadowsinger and finally aligning your gaze with the night sky. 

Starfall. It was Starfall. And there was nothing you’d rather look at than the male before you. 

“I’ve never actually watched Starfall from a rooftop before. Or at a whole party dedicated to it.” You answered, eyes still fixed on the stars. 

“Really?” Azriel mused, coming behind you and wrapping his arms around your body. “And why is that?”

And you let yourself sink back into his chest, allowing yourself to enjoy the warmth of him behind you. “I don’t know… Starfall parties are common. I guess no one’s ever invited me. I guess I had never gotten close enough with someone to invite me to one.”

Azriel bristled, but kept his arms around you. “And why is that?” He rested his chin atop your head. 

You sighed, gaze still fixed on the sky, waiting for the first star to careen through the air. “I think… I think I was too scared to give someone room to hurt me. To give someone that ability. It's a lot, to hand someone a piece of your heart and to trust them with it.”

Azriel sighed, and there was a long pause before he spoke his next words. “And with me? Do I have a piece of that heart?”

“Yes, for a very long time. Longer than I’d like to admit.”

“You’ve had a piece of my heart as well, my love. Ever since you accused me of spying on you.”

You laughed, as bubbly as the wine in your hand. “I barely remember saying those words. I was so stunned by you. You were the most beautiful male I had ever seen. You’ve had my heart since you walked into Feyre’s studio. And it’s scared the shit out of me ever since.”

“Scared you?”

“Scared me. I had never felt so drawn to someone, never wanted to know someone so badly the way I wanted to know you. Like I said, it’s a lot to give someone a piece of your heart and to trust them with it.”

“You really wanted to give me a piece of your heart? Right then and there?” Azriel smiled.

“Yes, I did. I guess, when you know, you know. And I’m glad I did. And I’m glad my sarcasm swindled you.”

Azriel laughed, placing a kiss on your head. “I will protect that piece of your heart with every fiber of my being.”

Tears filled your eyes as the first star shot through the sky. “I love you.”  It was the first time you had said it aloud, a small secret you kept  to yourself for the past months.

Azriel placed another kiss upon your forehead. “I love you too.”

[ravenloop]

Headcannons: Heimdall, Thor and Odin w/ Reader who always carries food on them

AN: Had to write this asap cause I couldn't resist

Request: Heya, Heya!! Reread your Heimdall fic a couple times and it got me thinking of a head cannon request if you do that!

This is a request for God of War Ragnarok(I as least want Hiemdall, Odin, and Thor but you can add whoever)

And this is a fun type headcannon where the reader can randomly pull out food from nowhere. It’s not magic, they just always have food on them. They would even sometimes be randomly eating at the worse/awkward times

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

Heimdall:

Being the god of foresight and knowledge, Heimdall expected everything that would happen next.

But honestly, nothing could have prepared him for when you pulled out food from thin air.

He thinks you pulled it from thin air anyways, until you tell him that you just always have food on you.

His initial reaction to that is to ask, "...Why? The mess hall is not that far." You just shrug and respond, "You never know when you could want it. And plus, I'm not gonna walk all the way to the mess hall everytime I feel like eating."

Okay. Fair point.

It's times like these when Heimdall wonders how he ended up with someone as... Random as you could be. All the more reason to love you he guesses.

At some point he even learns to love your little hobby of keeping food on you. Sometimes he's too caught up in patrolling on the wall that he forgets to eat, then you come along with the food you carry and he just eats and talks to you.

Heimdall also lives for the looks of confusion on people's faces when they see you take out food like you just pulled it from another realm.

To this day Heimdall still kinda suspects that you do. You like making fun of him for it.

"Bet you couldn't forsee that." Cue a long, exaggerated sigh.

Also please do not eat while there's a literal fight going on. He loves you, he really does. But he'd rather have you alive than die because you were too busy munching.

He swears he even saw you offering a snack to the enemy at one point.

Thor:

He absolutely loves it.

Like the first time you do it, he laughs so loud you swear it could be heard throughout Asgard.

Thor doesn't even question where you got the food from, he's just immediately laughing and pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

You can literally see the hearts in his eyes whenever you do it, it's like he just fell in love with you for the first time again.

Also don't expect your food to be all for you whenever you pull it out to eat, because Thor will immediately be at your side eating it as well.

It's like a way to summon him honestly.

Like how some spirits require rituals to be summoned - Thor just needs food. It's the same for you honestly. Which is probably why everyone says you two are the perfect couple.

If anyone ever makes fun of you or comments on how you carry food everywhere, they can kiss their life goodbye cause Thor won't tolerate it.

He also doesn't give a crap if you eat during a fight, you did it during one of his bar fights and he took a break to eat with you cause why the hell not?

In conclusion, this man is hooked.

Odin:

The first time you do it is when he's talking to you about a plan of some sort.

He's about to turn but immediately does a double take when he sees the food in your hand.

Was that there before? Surely not.

It's funny seeing him trying to figure it out, you can see the gears turning in his head and you have to stifle a laugh.

After a short moment you tell him that you just carry food on you.

He's a little embarrassed that he didn't think of that first and goes, "Ah." Then he walks off, contemplating what just happened.

It's not that it bothers him or anything, it's just... Huh? Where does one even store that much food?? Do you have magic pockets or something??

You should be prideful, you managed to confuse Odin - the Allfather. Not many get to do that or even live when they do, you lucky, lucky person.

He learns to just not question it, he'll just end up more confused than he started off as. And unless you're planning to take over the 9 realms using your meals then he has nothing to worry about.

Hearing you eat has become a background noise for him now and he sometimes even gets worried when he doesn't hear you eating.

Huginn and Muninn also love you because you always let them peck at your food, despite Odin telling you not to let them.

You once ate while Thor and Odin were arguing in his study - was very awkward and very tense, 10/10 do not recommend doing it again but you likely will.

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

AN: I started this at 4am and somehow only finished it at 6 - DJSKJSKD ENJOY ❤️

[gay-wh0re-slut]

Thank you so much for doing my angst request! It was so good!Can I request a new one? I’m in a mood for angst lately, but with smutty ending lol

Reader and Rhea have broke up a while ago, but Rhea is taking it harder than she thought she would. She hears that reader is going on dates (which is actually just to kill time and as an effort to move on, but Rhea doesn’t know that). She feels angry and jealous that she’s replaced so fast and confronts reader about it. During the argument things are getting heated and “somehow” they resolve the misunderstanding horizontally 😅

i’m so glad you liked it! I’m hoping it was the one with the prompt bc that one was fun to write. thank you for making another request!

after writing: it’s a bit more sad than angry bc i lowkey went thru this a while ago lmaooo so sorry bout that but i hope you like it hahahahahaoops and they’re not really horizontal but it’s still hot lmaoo

Over

rhea x fem reader

content: angst-ish with sad rhea, smutttttt, oral sexxxx, fingeringggg, hot buff goth woman kissing youuu ooooooo

It’s been two months since you and Rhea have broken up. The first month was hard on you but the second month you wanted to get your mind off of it so you decided to download all the dating apps you could think of. You’ve been on a few first dates and a few second dates but none have lived up to your expectations.

It has been really hard on the wrestler though. She claimed that she did it because she was getting so busy that she felt it wasn’t fair to you that she wasn’t able to be around as much as she wanted. So she decided to end things, unfortunately for her, she didn’t realize how much she relied on you to get away from all the buzz.

You haven’t spoken or texted Rhea for three weeks and it was hurting you, but she was the one to end things so why should I try? you thought. You and her had mutual friends that you would hang out with sometimes and they would try to tell you updates on her but you didn’t want to hear them.

“She really misses you,” they would say.

“Then she shouldn’t have left me,” said the anger stage of grief.

Part of you knew that the friends were telling her that you were going on dates and how you were doing but you didn’t care. You wanted to seem like the ‘bigger person’ and make it seem like you moved on.

One night, you had been chatting with a girl on one of the many dating apps and things were going suspiciously well so you set up a date for the next day, just to see. It was at a local coffee shop because you wanted it to be in public in case something went wrong.

You wore a long maroon, but sort of tight dress that showed off your curves just right, some light makeup, and your hair natural; you didn’t want to try too hard. The time came and you headed to the shop, ordered coffee and sat down at a small table in the corner.

People came and went and you were there for about twenty minutes, checking your phone and scrolling through social media. Because you were waiting for quite a while, you didn’t want to come off as someone who got stood up, so you decided to text her.

“You still coming?”

“Sorry, something came up, maybe another day?”

Of course. This wasn’t the first time this happened and it sure wouldn’t be the last.

“All good,” was the only thing you said. You didn’t like putting effort into something that wasn’t going to go anywhere. If they wasted your time, then they don’t care about you, your friend would say, but something seemed off.

You brushed it off, drank your coffee and enjoyed your time alone, it was nice. You rarely went out by yourself, so it was good for a change.

You finally finished your latte, so you head back home. To your surprise, there was a familiar black truck in your driveway.

“No fucking way,” you growl as you park the car. You sit for a few minutes contemplating going somewhere else in town, maybe a movie or something long enough to where she would leave on her own, but you decided against it. “If she wants to talk then let’s talk.”

You slammed the car door and stomped inside to her helping herself to a glass of water.

“Sorry to show up out of the blue,” the australian admitted.

“No you’re not,” you threw your keys down on the counter.

“Excuse me?”

“Obviously you have something to say that you couldn’t call or text about so…” you crossed your arms keeping your distance.

She was silent but you could tell she was trying not to go off.

“So?” you push.

“You’ve been going on dates,” she finally said.

“Yeah and? Why does it matter? You broke up with me,” the lump in your throat began to form, you were never good with confrontation but you swallowed it down.

“It’s only been two months!” she barked as she threw her hands up.

“People grieve differently!”

“You’re not grieving, you’re trying to get back at me.”

“I’m not. I’m trying to move on,” you glare.

“Moving on means seeing other people after two months?” She walked to the kitchen table and leaned on the back of one of the chairs, gripping it tightly.

“Yes, it does because I’m tired of throwing myself a pity party every night.”

“As if I haven’t done that?” she gestured to herself.

“You broke up with me,” you reiterate.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t miss you!” She walked to the bar area of the kitchen counter.

You let the words hang in the air, you genuinely didn’t have a response to that.

“It’s like you didn’t even care to reach out,” she sighed under her breath.

“The phone works both ways,” you rebutted.

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to!”

“Of course I did! I wanted to remain friends,” her cheeks were flush.

You try to calm your breathing and think hard about what you’re going to say because you didn’t want to get her feelings anymore than you did, apparently. “It’s hard to remain friends with someone you had fallen in love with and been with for a year.”

“As if I don’t know that?!” She crossed her arm and held her forehead with the other, “I had hope that we could work our way back.”

“Well…”

She took a long deep breath, before looking back up at you, “so you don’t want to try?”

“Literally when did I say that?”

“You didn’t have to say anything! I can tell with the way this is going that you don’t want to,” she was trying to calm herself down but you could tell she was struggling.

“No, no, no, back to the main question, why do you care that I’ve been seeing other people? We broke up!” you uncrossed your arms and got yourself some water too, your hands needed to do something.

“Because!” she huffed, “Because I still care for you and I don’t want you to get hurt,” she sighed once more, “and I miss you.”

You stop in your tracks and set the glass down gently before your impulse took over to throw it. You glare at her, “then why did you leave?”

“Because it wasn’t fair to you! We barely saw each other and when we did we would fight! I loved you too much to do that to you,” tears began to form in her eyes but she didn’t dare let them fall.

“I was perfectly fine letting you do what you love and was willing to work it out, you never talked to me about how you felt! You just up and left!” you threw back.

“Are you serious?! I had a flight that morning I had to leave, it was nothing to do with you.”

“You could’ve waited,” you growled.

“And make you feel more miserable?”

“I wasn’t!! That’s what I’m saying! I loved you, hell I still do, but that was bad the way you did it and you know it,” you pointed at her, hoping that she didn’t catch that one part.

“You what?”

Damn it, “you heard me.”

She sat at the bar and hung her head in her hands, sniffling.

“Rhea…” you start, and the lump in your throat was getting bigger, “I was distracting myself so that I could stop thinking about you. You consume my life, I think about you all the time,” a tear fell and you wiped it away before she could see. “I couldn’t do anything that first month, I was miserable, I had to do something.”

She lifted her head, her face was red and covered in tears. “I never stopped loving you,” she admitted.

“That makes two of us,” you said under your breath. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I didn’t want to hurt you again,” she wiped her nose with a paper towel.

You couldn’t think of anything to say. You sat there staring at her, thinking of everything you’ve ever done together and where it went wrong, but it never came up. “What do you want me to say?” you sigh.

“I don’t know,” she caught your eyes. Those icy blue perfect eyes staring back into you.

“Then what do you want from me?”

She sat for a minute racking her brain, trying to think of an answer that was different from what she wanted to say, but what’s the use, she thought and decided to shoot her shot anyway, “Another chance?”

You contemplate for a few short seconds, “You have to promise me-”

“I’ll do anything please, baby,” she didn’t mean to call you that, but you let it slide.

“You have to promise me that you’ll keep me informed on your schedule no matter what. We will make it work. Take me with you, I’ll pay for the extra bed, I’ll pay for the tickets, just…” you take a deep breath, “don’t give up again.” You didn’t think you would fold so quickly, but here you were.

“I promise, I’ll send it right now, the whole month. And when the next one comes I’ll send you that too,” as she took out her phone and sent it, “we can download a shared calendar app.”

“Thank you,” you took a sip of your water and set it back down. “Now are you going to admit that you were supposed to meet me at the coffee shop or what?”

“I had to get to you somehow,” she smiled nervously.

“You didn’t think that Leah Shipley wouldn’t raise an eyebrow?”

“Hey, what can you do?” she shrugged.

The two of you sat in silence for a good minute smiling at the thought of her trying to trick you.

“So are you going to kiss me or what?” you said a little too confidentally.

She basically ran around the counter and slammed her mouth against yours, holding your jaw. Your hands grabbed her waist and pulled her in tightly.

“God, I missed you,” she breathed.

“Shut up,” as you kiss her again.

She carefully walked you backwards towards the counter as your lips danced against hers. Your hands found themselves roaming her body naturally, like it was never gone.

She picked you up onto the counter, carefully moving things away. Her hips shoved their way in between your thighs pushing your dress up as she went, as you wrapped your legs around her, pulling her in as close as possible.

A hand found its way into your hair and yanked it to the side letting a whimper spill out of you. She kissed down your neck, biting delicately sending shockwaves down to your core. She kissed her way down your chest until she couldn’t find anymore bare skin. Suddenly, her arms pulled you forward to where you almost fell off the counter, yanking your dress farther up. She planted soft kisses on your inner thighs which made you crazy.

“Can I-” she whispered before you cut her off.

“Do it. I don’t care just fuck me, please baby,” you had missed her touch so badly. No one had ever made you feel the way she did, it was insane. She knew how to work you out just right.

With a devilish smirk she bit harder on your thighs spreading them as far as they would go. Your hand tangled itself in her hair as you used the other one to lean back. She grabbed at the waistband of your underwear and slid them off of you. A shiver hit your body as the cool air hit your hot center.

Her eyes widened at the sight of you basically dripping onto the counter, “Damn, baby, you missed me that much?”

“Shut up,” you said once more and shoved her head into you.

She immediately began lapping at your juices. You moan loudly with your head slamming on the cabinets behind you. A small “fuck,” fell from your lips followed by another moan. Her hand grazed up your thigh, lightly scratching its way up. It reached around to the small of your back and pushed you more forward into her. Riding her face, your hand gripped hair tighter. The hand sneaked its way back around and prodded at your entrance.

“Please, yes,” you whine.

And so she did, gently plunging her two fingers into you. “God,” you groan as your eyes rolled back.

She kissed the inside of your thighs before returning to your neck and kissing her way up to your lips. You grab her face, kissing her intensely, as she’s now pounding into you. Her other hand returns to your now swollen clit and adds to the knot growing inside of you.

“You missed me, baby?” she coos.

“So… fucking… bad,” you breathe.

“Then show me,” she growled.

Only a few seconds pass and you released all over her hand with a loud moan, squeezing your legs closed but was stopped by her hips blocking your way. Your back arching into the woman in front of you, “ffffffucccckk,” you whine as she kisses your neck. Your nails are digging into her shoulder blades as she continues to pump in and out of you letting you enjoy the high.

As you came down, catching your breath, you release your grip on her shoulders. Your head lolled forward leaning onto the wrestlers forehead for a few breaths before leaning back onto the cabinet. She gently pulled her fingers out of you and brought them to her mouth, cleaning them off.

“I forgot how good you taste, princess,” her accent was so thick you almost came undone again.

“It’s been too long,” you sigh.

“I guess we have some catching up to do, then huh?” she smirked. She picked you up with a giggle coming from both of you and began to carry you to your bedroom.

[sleepysnk]

there’s some things i really wanted to talk about especially regarding my account and tumblr as a whole, so i decided to finally make this post as a way to sort of vent out my feelings on some things.

i’m not gonna lie, tumblr has become a very different place from what it was. i started creating content 3 years ago and it’s gone through so many changes (much expected). however, i don’t think tumblr has really changed for the better, especially when it comes to content creators. this used to be a really safe space for me to come on and create works for fandoms that i enjoyed, but recently, that safe space hasn’t felt, well, safe anymore. there is constant discourse everywhere on this platform and i’ve found that many people here are just extremely bitter? it’s almost like it’s become a mean girl center and it makes it difficult to interact with others.

obviously, this doesn’t go for everyone. i’m not trying to come at people specifically or cause issues, but i have seen my fair share of problems with people on here and some of it is just completely ridiculous.

next, i’d like to discuss the elephant in the room and that’s the lack of interaction/support to writers. it is just mind blowing to me that we as creators have to BEG our followers to reblog or even send us asks. obviously, some people are new to tumblr and don’t understand it’s algorithm, but there are people on here who just simply chose not to reblog for some reason?? it’s not only discouraging, but it puts less confidence in writers and then we aren’t motivated to create content. i’ve said this before, but there is no reason why a 2k note fic should have only 100 or so reblogs. likes mean nothing on this platform. it’s not Twitter. i genuinely have gotten so tired of repeating myself that i don’t even say it anymore because i know it won’t be acknowledged.

i understand people have lives, i do too, but it isn’t hard to send an ask to a writer about literally anything. i think the last time i had an anon ask was weeks ago and i genuinely get disappointed when i ask for interactions just to receive nothing? no one is obligated to speak with me or send me asks by any means, but a little “hey! how are you?” goes a long way. i probably sound ridiculous, but it’s just how i feel about the matter.

another thing that bothers me is when a writer doesn’t write smut or suggestive content, they hardly get any interaction. i’ve seen it myself before and i’m not sure why people just ignore greatly written fics?? i understand that smut is the main appeal. trust me, i 100% get it, but fluff writers hardly get any attention and some of the best fics i’ve read weren’t even smut related. i’m not saying every person here has to read fluff or angst fics by any means, but it makes me sad that people write these fics to hardly get any interaction because it isn’t smut content. the least y’all can do is reblog it.

to discuss my account, i honestly don’t really feel the most happy here. i don’t have as much motivation as i used to and i have contemplated removing my account, but i have some great fics i’d rather not have be deleted. i might start a new account for a fresh start, but i’m still not 100% on it.

and if you read this till the end, thank you! i probably sound like a whiny baby but i just wanted to express some of my feelings because it’s been weighing on me a lot recently.

[host-club-hq]

heyyy !!! can i submit a request ? thanks !!! feel free to reject/deny this if u want to tho !!!

reader who’s from a middle to upper middle range family and they’re like in their 20’s or so and they just seem to have a lot of time and money on their hands but their family doesn’t know what they exactly do in terms of work so they confront her and ask if they’re doing drugs or nsfw work and turns out they have a bf (kyoya) who’s just really rich

thanks !!! 🫶

➼ pairing: kyoya ootori x fem!reader (slice of life!AU)

➼ summary: you come from a middle class family and all of a sudden you’ve been spending considerably large amounts of money… and your family is wondering what exactly it is you do for a living nowadays? are you in with the wrong sort of people?

➼ word count: 2.7k

➼ what to expect: "It's worth nothing if you aren't wearing it."

➼ warnings: none :) unless an excessive amount of fluff causes you to have severe heart issues (me too babe)

➼ i literally saw this request and was like oh my god i have to write it, then since i wasn't at my laptop, proceeded to write the fic in my beta reader's dms. thank u so much for this request it actually helped me get out of a writing rut :)

You never thought you would be sitting in your apartment for a living.

Well, technically, that's not what you do for a living, but it might as well be.

You work from home, with extremely short hours and a paycheck that's nothing to write home about. You could do your job from an office, but why bother? Most of the 8 hours you would work, you'd be sitting at your desk with nothing to do, your brain going numb from lack of stimulation.

Although you don't enjoy having virtual meetings with strangers, that's basically your entire job — you are a virtual history tutor, after all.

You never wanted to be a teacher but you still wanted to pass your extensive knowledge on to other generations, so you figured either being a substitute teacher or a tutor would suffice. And when the school you applied to mentioned an online tutor position, you snatched it up and ran with it.

Of course, you had a job before this. And it definitely wasn't your dream job. Before your passion for teaching arose, you took one of the first jobs you found available that called you for an interview. The secretary of a prestigious CEO of... a company that you're not quite sure what they did (you called it your Devil Wears Prada moment). You vaguely remember copying data and putting things in color-coded folders, but the position was brutal. You were set with impossible tasks and goals that your immediate superiors struggled to reach (truly, your Devil Wears Prada moment). You contemplated swerving your car into oncoming traffic every day on your way to work at 6:30 in the morning (obviously you didn't, too many innocent lives would have been put in danger).

But, at least, that's where you met-

Knock, knock, knock-knock-knock... knock, knock

Your ears immediately perk up and you turn your head toward the front door from your position on the sofa in the living room. There's only one soul alive that would knock on your door in that fashion.

You shut your laptop rather hastily and leap up to answer the door, sliding through the kitchen and the entry foyer in your socks to get there. Honestly, the distance from the front door to your workspace could have been considered a 5k marathon (no it's not, you're just out of shape).

You don't even have to glance at the peephole before you open the door to reveal-

"y/n! Oh, my dear, how are you?" You're immediately pulled into a crushing embrace and a comforting scent surrounds you.

"Mom?" You gawk, slowly encircling your arms around her to return the hug.

"I know I probably should have called but when I thought about doing it, I was already at your door. And I have to say, this is quite the upgrade!" Your mother wanders in without an invite, in awe of the clean, neat appearance of your apartment.

Well, penthouse. You take up the entire 58th floor at the top of your building. The elevator requires a reading of your house key-card to even press the button. It opens up right in front of your door.

... how did she get up here?

"How on earth did you get up here?" You voice your thoughts as her mother discards her walking shoes beside your own, slipping on a pair of guest slippers.

"I told the man in the lobby I was your mother and you would not believe the convincing I had to do to get him to let me up. He even needed my ID!"

"Well, yeah, because you don't live here-"

"Would you look at this place! My god, y/n, how do you keep it so clean? Not a speck of dust!" Your mother, true to her nature, swipes a finger across a nearby decorative table and it comes up absolutely spotless.

"Thanks, I mean it's not-"

"You even have a foyer! And a kitchen that doesn't double as the dining room!" Your mother wanders into the next room faster than you can process her presence.

"Mom, what are-" You try to best to follow her, slipping and sliding over the wooden floors in your fluffy socks.

"Really, y/n, I never pegged you to like modern furniture! I thought you liked a little character in your possessions. But, I must say, it's much better than I imagined your living situation to be." She strolls into the living room next, gawking at the mere size.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" You frown, relieved that she seems to have finally picked a room to settle in. She sets her enormous bag on the sofa.

"What are you even doing here? Not that I don't appreciate the surprise visit..." You save quickly, smiling sheepishly at the glare she briefly sends your way.

"I wanted to see you of course. But..." She digs through her purse and pulls out a Macbook. "I came for an explanation for this." She all but waves it around. You wince.

"Careful. Why do you need an explanation for that? You mentioned you needed a better laptop and your birthday was coming up so I thought-"

"Exactly! It's perfect, it's everything I could have ever dreamed of in a laptop!" Your mother scolds. You tilt your head.

"... is that a problem?" You blink owlishly.

"First it was the watch for your father's birthday, then the mountain of stuffed animals for your little sister for Christmas, and now this!" Your mother sighs, crossing her arms after setting the Macbook on the coffee table.

"Wha- I'm sorry, I think I'm missing what the fuss is about. I tell you guys to send me your lists and you never do, so I'm sorry if it's not what you wanted-"

"It is what we wanted, that's why I'm here!" She retaliates.

"Okay, Mom, you're going to have to calm down and tell me what the problem is because I am clearly missing something here." You lead her to the coffee table, where you both lower yourselves to the floor, cross your legs, and sit beneath it.

She takes a deep, calming breath, "I'm just concerned is all. Your last job was enough for you to live and have a fair amount of money to spare, but you don't even work there anymore." Your mother places both hands on the table, avoiding your eye.

"You're right, I don't work for them anymore." You quirk a brow, curious as to where this is going.

"And now you're an online tutor who barely works more than a few hours per day, sometimes a week! So... I'm just curious..." She sighs, shaking her head.

"How are you getting the money for all of this? This is a multimillion dollar penthouse, you sent your father a 7,000 dollar watch, and you sent me a laptop worth at least a few thousand dollars." Your mother finally meets your eyes.

Before you can respond, she reaches across the table and grabs you by the shoulders.

"Just tell me the truth. Are you selling drugs? Are you stripping? Are you doing drugs? Because whatever it is, I'm sure I can talk my way into gaining your innocence in a courtroom but you have to come clean-"

"Mom! I'm not doing anything illegal!" You exclaim adamantly, shrugging her grip off your shoulders.

"Are you in credit card debt? Your father warned you about things like this, and I always thought you were a modest spender but-"

"Mom, listen to me, okay? I'm not in debt. I'm not stripping. I'm not doing drugs." You take both of her hands in yours and speak calmly. She nods, still looking a little confused.

"Then how are you getting all of the money for this?" She asks.

You chew your lip, "Well... it's not really my money-"

Just as you begin your explanation, the front door opens and shuts loudly, the sound of dress shoes click loudly against the wooden floors.

"Honey, there's someone in your house." Your mom steadies herself, reaching for her purse like she's got some sort of weapon.

"Mom? Mom!" You hiss quietly as she starts to get up.

"I'm home, darling! Are you in the living room?"

Your mother blinks at the voice calling from the foyer.

"Yeah, I'm in here!" You reply in a trembling voice, your brain trying to decide whether or not you should greet your boyfriend or calm your mother first.

Before either of you can open your mouths again, the body attached to the voice calling for you appears in the doorway.

Kyoya sheds his blazer, leaving him clad in his button up shirt tucked into his dress pants as he tosses it onto the coat rack beside him.

"I was- oh." Kyoya finally looks up, meeting your eyes first, then the worried, albeit confused, eyes of your mother.

"I'm sorry, I hope I wasn't interrupting anything." Kyoya bows politely at the presence of someone unfamiliar to him.

Your mother's instincts cause her to return the bow where she's sitting, still completely lost.

"You're not, darling." You get up from your place at the table to greet him.

Kyoya welcomes you eagerly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, bewildering your mother further, before making eye contact with her again.

"This must be your mother. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. l/n. I've heard so much about you." Kyoya bows once more, a bit more deeply.

Your mother blinks, eyes glancing between you and Kyoya with haste.

"Mom, this is Kyoya Ootori... my boyfriend." You allow Kyoya to place a respectful arm around your back.

"Your what?" She blurts. You grimace. You knew you'd have to tell her sooner or later, but most of your high school boyfriends were intimidated by her and her doting nature.

And the fact that your father threatened to end their lives if they ever laid a finger on you.

"My boyfriend..." You sigh, almost like a scolded child.

"Ah, that reminds me. A flower for you, my dear." Kyoya sets down the shopping bag he was holding and his briefcase, handing you a rose.

"Oh, it's so pretty. Thank you." You'd rather Kyoya brought you individual flowers than an expensive bouquet since you're god-awful at keeping them alive. You peck his cheek.

"Oh, and before I forget. I saw this in a store window on my way home and I couldn't help but imagine how well it would paired with that black dress you know I like so much. I thought you could wear it to dinner." Kyoya pulls out a large, black velvet box from the shopping bag and turns toward you.

"Kyoya, we've talked about this-"

"I know. You don't like when I spend money on you but I just couldn't help myself." He opens the box to reveal a necklace glittering with diamonds, more than you can count. It glimmers in the light and you're afraid to even touch it, let alone wear it.

"Oh, my god, this must have cost a fortune." Your jaw goes slack. Your mother nosily peers over your shoulder and gasps loudly.

"It's worth nothing if you aren't wearing it." Kyoya smiles. A pretty pink hue dusts your cheeks at the compliment as your heart flutters.

"Thank you, my love. It's breathtaking." You gently take the box from him so he can gather his own things.

"Would your mother like to join us for dinner? I'm sure they won't mind moving us to a different table." Kyoya inquires innocently.

Your mother in question is still completely baffled by all of this.

"So... so you're dating my daughter? And... you're rich?" Your mother blurts.

"Mom!" You scold.

Kyoya chuckles, "I'm under the impression you hadn't been told about me. My apologies."

"Kyoya!" You scold him next.

"And... and this is... your house?" Your mother gestures to your surroundings.

"Yes, ma'am." Kyoya nods affirmatively.

"I moved in about... I want to say two months ago or so." You shrug. Kyoya nods.

"And how long have you been dating exactly?" She quirks a brow.

You nearly cringe at your answer, "... a year."

"A YEAR?" Your mother all but shrieks, earning a wince from you.

"Mom, it's not a big deal-" You reach for her to calm her down.

"It is a big deal! You've been seeing this gorgeous man with a mansion behind my back!" She gestures wildly to Kyoya, who blinks at her, brows raised at her reaction.

"Not behind your back! You never asked!" You insist.

"That's because you swore off men in high school after that boy stood you up-"

"WE don't have to talk about that." You want to shove your hands over her mouth. Kyoya quirks a brow quietly from behind you.

You sigh, "I met him while I was a secretary. He owns a portion of his father's company and was scheduled to meet with my boss."

That's the only thing you're thankful to that secretary position for. Your boss had buzzed for you to prepare two cups of tea for him and his guest. Once you brought them their tea, your attention was stolen by the man sitting across from your superior. Luckily, you didn't drop any of the china on your way in once you caught sight of him. After Kyoya was finished meeting with your boss, he struck up a light conversation with you that had your heart soaring. Simply basking in his beauty and powerful nature made you swoon.

Kyoya returned to your boss's office far more often than he ever needed to after his first interaction with you. He appeared at your desk, asking for your boss when these types of things could have definitely been handled over the phone. At first he didn't understand why he did it, but he soon realized his feelings for you when he caught himself asking you to dinner on his way out one day.

"I still don't understand why you didn't tell me you were dating this man. Let alone living with him." Your mother finally calms down enough to have your heart aching with guilt.

"I meant to, Mom, but I just... I guess I was afraid of how you'd react." You admit finally, fidgeting with your fingers.

"Kyoya helps me pay for you gifts because I want the best for you. But honestly, he can get you much nicer things than I pick out... I'm pretty sure he can buy you a house." You mutter your last sentence.

Your mother laughs, "If my daughter likes him, I like him. Come here, Kyoya." She strides forward and pulls Kyoya down for a tight embrace.

Kyoya nearly chokes, clearly rendered speechless by her sudden show of affection. He manages to reciprocate despite his shock.

"Thank you. I can assure you, I only want the best for your daughter. I'm sorry we haven't met sooner." Kyoya grins.

He has contemplated reaching out to your mother by himself despite your adamant disapproval. But he hated the idea of going behind your back to do anything at all, so he kept to himself.

"It's alright, dear. I'd love to get to know you better. Are you sure I wouldn't be a bother at dinner?" Your mother returns to the woman you know and love.

"Not at all." You shake your head, a wide grin spreading to your lips.

"I'll call the the driver, tell him to bring around the SUV rather than the Benz." Kyoya pulls out his cellphone.

"A driver?" Your mother gasps, placing a hand over her chest and glancing to you for confirmation. You nod, biting your lip eagerly.

Once Kyoya's sent the short message, your mother slots herself beside him and curls her arm around his.

"So, Kyoya, you own your father's company?" The two of them walk in the direction of your shared bedroom, side by side. You watch as they leave you standing in the living room.

"Just a portion of it, yes. We're in the medical business, you see, managing hospitals and..." Kyoya's voice fades off into the house. He doesn't seem to mind your mother's sudden attention in the slightest, even switching his jacket to his other arm to accommodate her like the gentleman he is.

You purse your lips, glancing down once more to the velvet box in your hands and you're reminded that you need to start getting ready for dinner. You follow them, rolling your eyes as you hear your mother start to ask about just how well Kyoya's been treating you.

This is going to be the longest dinner of your life.

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[thyfggfy]

I had contemplated doing this post for awhile , because quite frankly I wasn't sure what I was trying to accomplish and even now I am not sure what my goal is. I just know that I don't want to scream into the void . I want to be heard.

Some of you might be aware of one of the most recent tw confession blogs . In one of their more recent posts a very interesting discussion occurred.

One of my mutuals pointed out a collection of fics that are labelled as "101 ways to kill Scott McCall". At first I didn't even notice this , because idk. Maybe I just glazed over it , however when more people began interacting with the publication I SAW IT and I just had to check for myself .

One of said fics is called "Kill-a-Character Bingo - Scott McCall" which is a fanfiction of 26 chapters in which Scott is killed in various grotesque and humiliating ways.This is one of the chapters:

Outside of feeling gross , disillusioned and honestly sick to my stomach , I was also beyond perplexed . It is one thing to dislike a character . To be so annoyed by them that you just want them gone by any means necessary . I can even understand killing them in your own fic as a "treat" . I can't say I am on board with that , but still I can put myself in your shoes...sort of. Writing a fanfiction in which your main focus is a character you loathe , on the other hand, is ...confusing to say the least.

I can already hear some of you saying "It is not like I wrote this" and you are right , but what about the people supporting it .

115+ people apparently consider this good , entertaining . Gave the "author" their silent encouragement to keep going .

To be fair this fic is from the end of 2023 so the kudos are not that much so let's look at their most recent work with the "Dead Scott McCall" tag -"Compare" which was written at the beginning of February 2024

Over 100 kudos in the span of 3 months . Not too shabby for ao3.How much is too much ? How much longer can you use the "just a few rotten apples" argument?

If you are wondering how Scott's life ends in this story , one of the readers was more than happy to inform us.

I am going to avoid name-calling ,okay. I know that realistically not all of you are like this (thank god). I just want to ask. Do you think this is healthy? Do you think that is a fulfilling way for someone to spend their free time? Are you going to be comfortable being near this person and their fans knowing this is one of their "hobbies"? I don't know about you , but I would definitely be keeping my distance.

Again, I have no clue what is the point of this . I don't want you to attack the user . They would most likely just double down on doing what they know best . Maybe some of you would understand why people from my side of the fandom are so willing to accuse you of certain things instead of getting butthurt . Though that is most likely also asking for too much.

[ninliane]

how I think CANON kageyama really thinks about romance based on facts

This is more on just character analysis and observation but this is all speculation because if I'm being honest as a former Haikyuu x reader writer, I think he is the most mischaracterized and has potential for a different type of x reader, rather than typical romance.

Also I'm saying this as a Kageyama fan! This is just my thoughts jotted down hehe

I don't think Kageyama really had the chance to experience romance. Ever. I mean I could be wrong but based on what we we've seen there wasn't really time for it or even a single mention on it

Though given multiple chances to show it, he never showed any outright attraction to anyone outside of volleyball. Obviously this is not a shojo manga, it's a sports one but there are still multiple times where some sort of attraction has been shown towards characters.

He is unfazed by Kiyoko in a season 1 scene, he never fawns over any of the managers the way other characters do. (The only exception is when Saeko introduces herself and he and Hinata get excited) this isnt rly important tho, a lot of character dont do this

the only time he has ever been excited or passionate is when it comes to volleyball, the very reason why he stuck so close to hinata in the first place (this could argue for kagehina ((so true)) but that's a separate post lol)

HOWEVER he's also not repulsed by attraction towards him, as shown in the bonus chapter when he's aware that he and Atsumu are referred to by fans as the "Ikemen Players" and that people watch him for that; he says he's all for it because it get's people into volleyball

But the CORE REASON on why I think he never thought about romance is because he outright states in season 4 that he's not good at emotion, and his past. He likely does not know the feeling and even with friends he was still learning on friendship, but he wants to learn! (that's probably why he was so keen on asking oikawa for help in kitagawa-daichii)

Anyway so conclusion as an x reader writer, would he be datable? I mean it's not impossible. After all we hardly see his life outside of volleyball, it would just be challenging, just like getting him to play on a team. In fact it would even be cute to see him think about it.

I wrote all this bc I think it would be interesting to see this kageyama in fics, instead of the usual tsundere/constantly getting mad and embarrassed ver of him (me,,I used to write him like this,,,)

Now how would I write canon Kageyama off with staying true to his given character as much as possible?

I think he would be very calm and nonchalant about it. They've shown us that he's very aware of his emotional weaknesses in understanding but that he's ALWAYS willing to try and connect with others.

So while I think he can most definitely live his life without romance, I think that he is bound to think about it at least once and contemplate it. He might even be open to trying it for the sake of trying something that's so common with others, but in my opinion he will always love volleyball more than anything else, and that's not a terrible thing at all.

[minniiaa]

The LawLu brainrot is crazy for me rn

Law is never desperate until he is. Like he doesn't need sex before Luffy, but once he just cuddles with Luffy once, he becomes so downbad. He thinks about Luffy fucking him like a ragdoll 24/7. It never leaves his brain and just being in the same room with Luffy makes him go crazy.

And then Luffy does fuck him and there's no going back ever again. He's more than just downbad. It's almost a problem. Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo have never heard him talk so much before, and it's all about Luffy. He can never get the man out of his head. And he just wants sex all the time. No thoughts, head empty, just his boyfriend fucking him into next week.

Thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

The brainrot is equally crazy over here but I subscribe to your headcanon as fact and it is one of my favorite Lawlu dynamics.

I feel like Law is one of those people who was always like... too busy for sex or it was too much of a chore for him. He has a million other things to worry about and his getting his dick wet is a last resort when he's really pent up and can't take it anymore (he'll just jerk off at that point, less work and less mess).

UNTIL LUFFY. Something about Luffy draws him in and fascinates him like no one ever has. People don't interest Law very much unless they are his patients and he can't figure out what it is about Luffy that has him analyzing every tiny movement and micro-expression he makes. He's infatuated by the way his muscles ripple when he moves, how he smiles just a little differently depending on who he's talking to, and especially the way his gaze always lingers a little too long when he looks at Law. Everything about him just gives Law butterflies like he's some teen girl having his first crush.

The first time they cuddle is by Luffy's request and Law says yes so fast that he almost dies on the spot at how desperate he sounds but Luffy doesn't seem to care. He finally gets to feel Luffy's strong arms around him, his soft hair tickling his cheek, and how warm his breath on his neck is. It breaks him, no he wants Luffy to break him. He's never been so horny in his life, he's never wanted someone this bad, and he has no idea why. Every time he looks at him those first initial touches, all he can think of Luffy absolutely railing him in every possible position and fantasizing about choking on his dick until he cries. He's both mortified and confused like yeah, Luffy is hot but he's Luffy. He's a moron most of the time. It's not like he's some kind of sex god or anything. There's no way...

He's totally wrong, there IS a way. He finally gets his wish and Luffy fucks him so good that it alters his brain chemistry forever. He's left staring at the ceiling, twitching and contemplating his entire life up to that point while Luffy gives him sweet little kisses and cuddles, telling him how good he did and how pretty he is. "That was really fun Torao, let's do it again," Luffy says and Law is virtually begging him for more not just then but every day after. He doesn't have to do much begging though, Luffy can just sense when he's in the mood like he's some sort of dog who can smell when he's turned on which is always now.

No matter what they're doing, Law just has to look at Luffy a certain way and he's dragging him somewhere to go fuck. Bathrooms, closets, backs of cars, doesn't matter. Normally Law would be horrified about this behavior but with Luffy, he doesn't give a damn, he just wants to be bent over and given the sweet but demanding treatment that Luffy always provides until he's turned into a needy, whiny mess. But it's never enough, no matter how far gone he is and how many times he cums, all he wants is more.

Everyone around him is so confused because ever since Luffy, Law has stopped acting like he has a stick up his ass all the time (they realize eventually it's because he now has something else there instead). He talks about Luffy constantly, likely without even realizing it which shocks his friends because Law was usually a listener and not a talker. He smiles, hell he even laughs and not in a creepy murderous way he used to.

Luffy takes up all the space in both his mouth (in more ways than one) and his brain and Law can't stop it nor does he want to. He's down HORRENDOUS for this man and Luffy just sits by with a stupid little satisfied smirk on his face, Law next to him or on his lap because he constantly needs to be touching some part of him when they're together. He knows that he's the best boyfriend ever and Law would never leave him in a million years not only because he's so head over heels in love, but because no one can please Law like he can.

[pix3lplays]

Hello, @moonsaver here! Its a side blog so i cant quite send an ask from that account itself, whoops.

Anyways, I was kind of contemplating on whether or not sending a message because i didnt want to overstep any boundaries and accidentally make it seem like i sent a request when theyre closed haha.

I wholeheartedly believe in your characterization of Argenti, and would like to propose a role he could play in a royal!au

A knight

I mean.. obviously. It would be even funnier if all the knights under him were like.. kind of incompetent and love the peace between the nations thoroughly and just spend their time singing praises for Idrila. Maybe he's a royal knight and the reader could be a prince/ss who often makes trips to towns and provinces to check on celebrations, and their Father's all like "oh they'll need a guard, I'll assign them the most HANDSOME guard of my men!" And shows up Argenti singing praises to reader waking them up at like.. 5 AM? He's a handful already and the day's barely begun. His getup is probably flashier than reader's who is literal royalty. Everyone's cooing at him in the streets and it's hard to not blow your cover off

Oh my goodness hello, I’m so excited that you sent this to me~

(I am ALWAYS up for hearing ideas, hehe)

And I’m SO glad you’re in agreement with my characterization of our beloved Argenti~

You’re saying…Argenti would be a KNIGHT in a Royal au???? Are you feeling alright??? Jk jk of course he would be.

I love this so much. I bet Argenti wakes up like Cinderella. Birds flying around his room and everything. Though he canonically doesn’t know how to sing so it’s admittedly a lot funnier than Cinderella, listening to him sing all terribly while birds flap around his sleeping quarters.

‘Handful’ is a very nice way to put it…he never Means to be overbearing, and I am in agreement with the assessment that he’s not vain or purposely annoying or anything he just…cannot read a room for the life of him.

Suddenly you’re getting roses alongside your morning breakfast, and it’s admittedly a little funny to imagine him hunting down your butler to put the flowers on your food tray.

Also I see it so, so vividly. You’re trying to be subtle with your knight bodyguard, just trying to quietly survey the town to make sure everything’s going smoothly…and Mr. Tall, shiny armor, and Bright Red Hair is already making the two of you stand out…but he also stops and talks to anyone and everyone who shows him attention, sigh…

Maybe that person is waving him over because they need help!! Oh…no they wanted to ask him if he was single…

Please consider…going to a tavern…you want him to wait outside because surely there would be people in there who weren’t a fan of knights.

A few minutes later you look over and guess who has wandered into the bar and is now chatting up a group of rough looking characters…oh Argenti…

He’s so pretty. No one really suspects from his initial appearance that he’s as strong as he is.

Bar fight ensues because HEY this guy’s a KNIGHT >:( and Argenti promptly dispatches them, of course without casualties, he would never kill unless it was truly necessary.

He’s so sweet, but genuinely so confused about why a fight started over him. For a knight he sure is…not very well-versed in the ways of the world.

But you can’t say much as a Royal, can you?

You can share your limited knowledge with each other, haha…maybe form some sort of picture of how to successfully navigate the world.

And, ok I’m sorry I’m a sucker for this but, a cute little scene with him teaching reader some basic self-defense?? Ugh that’d be so cute…I’m so normal about it. The closeness of your bodies, the intimacy of him showing you how to properly hold a spear by taking your hands in his and demonstrating for you.

But of course…there is also the potential forbidden aspect of it all…a knight…he cannot be in love with a royal…it’d be a SCANDAL. So he pushes you away, tries to keep it professional once he realizes that he’s growing much too close to you…

It’s painful, and confusing to see him suddenly growing so much colder towards you, and always looking at you with those sad eyes…

Argenti….

It’s fine I’m fine.

Thanks for sending this in, moonsaver. I definitely didn’t make myself sad thinking about it, nope not me.