#and they can move on from fucking each other without catching feelings (lie)

[maulfucker]

actually the more I think about it the more it makes sense to write him being in rut

[thevoidstaredback]

Adventures In Gotham

Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant Side Story

The first time Danny had ever been to Gotham, he swore it would be his last. He was twenty-two at the time.

In an effort to relax after finals had ended, he, Tucker, Sam, Val, Wes, and Dani had been playing a round of Truth or Dare after finishing a few movies. Sam had dared Danny to wander around Gotham without attracting attention to himself. The catch was that he wasn't allowed to use his powers except to fly there and back. His time limit was Sunday night.

They'd all been planning to stay the night at Sam's anyway, so no one would even notice he was gone. Though, the dare had seemed easy at the time, Danny should've realized his luck was not that good.

Regardless, he flew to the outskirts of Gotham City, dropped his transformation, and entered.

The first thing he noticed was that there was some kind of bubble around Gotham preventing the Shades and overall feel of death from leaving. It was overwhelming at first, but he got used to it pretty quickly. The next thing he noticed was that he had walked into somebody's haunt.

Shit.

He made himself presentable and spoke to the night, "I apologise for trespassing," His voice echoed through the open area as though he was shouting in an empty room. Ghost Speak tended to do that. "I mean no hostile intentions. I simply wish to play a game with your protectors." With any luck, whoever this was would be playful or friendly, at the very least. He didn't hold his breath, though.

A lie. He was holding his breath, but that's only because he was nervous!

The night air stilled as though considering his words. Then, a breeze from behind pushed him further into the city. Flapping wings of bats and owls seemed to hide the whispers of "You may come in." and "Be careful." and "You will lose." and "Good luck.".

A vote of confidence from the City Spirit. "Thank you." He was going to be as quick as he could, but he couldn't draw attention to himself. Easier said than done. Batman seemed to know whenever anyone ever stepped foot into his city, especially if they've never been there before. So, he had to play hide and seek with Batman and Robin.

Again, easier said than done.

Danny knows very little about about Gotham and her heroes and villains. What he does know is that Robin is fairly knew to the scene, but also very serious in what he does. He's still a child, though, and he likes to play around a bit. Batman, on the other hand, has already become something of a cryptid, despite only showing himself a year or so ago. Either way, the two balance each other nicely and work well as a team.

Batman and Robin obviously know the entire city inside out, so Danny has to somehow keep an eye on where they are at all times while not drawing attention to himself. Which would be easy, except for the fact that Danny can only sense where non-living beings are. Batman and Robin are very much alive. He's pretty sure. Unless either of them have a shit ton of Shades attached to them, which is unlikely but not impossible, then he'll have to rely on finding them first and keeping them within his sight as he tours around their city.

Why the hell did he agree to this? He so deserves a reward if he succeeds.

'When', not 'if'. 'If' is pessimistic and implies that Batman might just drop him off a building and watch him fall. 'When' at least lets him continue with the illusion that he may get out of this no deader than when he arrived in Gotham.

All he had to do was basically tour the city, then he'll be done. It went well for the first hour, but then he spotted the shadows moving around him. It wouldn't normally be a problem, but one of those shadows was made out of bright colours. Seeing as his Ghost Sense didn't go off, Danny figured the he'd just run straight into Batman and Robin.

Shit. Fuck. Okay, play it cool, Danny.

He ran. He ran as fast as he could without using his powers. When he was sure he'd lost the two vigilanties, he allowed himself to stop in an alley somewhere in the Narrows. (The map he looked at was coming in very handy all of a sudden)

"Could be worse," he said to himself, backing into a corner.

The sound of shattering glass and the scurrying of mice and rats gave the impression of laughter and taunting. Which, rude, but fair.

"Your Knights, my lady," he spoke into the darkness, "are terrifying."

"Who you talking to?"

Danny did not jump. He didn't! Liar.

The kid, about twelve years old, was in bright green, red, and yellow. His hair windswept and he didn't seem even the slightest bit out of breath, let alone tired. Shouldn't he be in bed? Did he have a bedtime? He should have a bedtime, in Danny's expert opinion.

"Did you know that humans are endurance hunters?" Robin had been smiling since he dropped down in front of Danny. And if that wasn't a scary ass line to hear from a twelve year old up way past his bedtime-

No, he's not intimidated. "It's, um, a good thing I'm not completely human then, huh?" Stupid, stupid, stupid! Shut up, Danny! Stop talking! Right now!

This made Robin frown and the shadows started to move again, Batman taking his place just behind the boy. "What do you mean?"

Damn, he's scary! Danny's a sucker for a deep voice with a growl, damn.

"I, um," Intelligent response, Danny. King of the Realm Between Realms of Infinity. Keeper of Balance, Timeless Protector of the Dead and Living, and he can't even form a proper sentence.

Batman and Robin's stares were uncomfortably similar, even as Robin tilted his head ever so slightly to the right.

For all his wisdom, Danny couldn't see how he could manage to get out of this without using his powers. So, "Gottagobye!" he let intangibility and invisibility wash over him and he slipped through the wall behind him. From there, he let the rings of light cover him and he flew away.

He'll take the L. That was scary as hell!

The night wind brushed against him, the sound of breaking bones and cackling telling him to come by to play again some time. Had Gotham's City Spirit lead her Knight and his child to Danny? Probably. She seemed like the type. At least she seems to like him? Silver linings.

"I'm never going there again," he muttered halfway to Illinois.

Storyboard

Tag List:

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[kingconia]

VICE HOUSEWARDENS WITH MC, WHO IS BLIND, BUT, SOMEHOW, FEELS AND KNOWS EVERYTHING

warning: Ortho is excluded for an obvious reason, and I consider Ruggie to be a vice.

Trey Clover. ❤️

— Trey is absolutely surprised, when he sees you for the first time. It is not like he had never seen a blind person before, but there is something alarming in a fact, that a student without magic and sight, is left all alone in the NRC;

— He might be a little awkward around you, but he is still respects you, and will never points out at your possible insecurity. Hits Ace a few times, when he openly reminds you about being blind;

— ...When he finds out that you are not helpless, and in fact might be more attentive than all of them, he is speechless.

•

Trey glances over his shoulder, instantly finding you in the havoc that first-years had made in his kitchen. He has no trust in this kids, and it is quite dangerous place for you. So, he tries to look up for you wordlessly.

”Ace,” he calls for a redhead boy, sighing, when he almost drops a bowl with flour on the ground, ”pass me a few apples, would you? They should be somewhere here.”

Ace smiles at him crookedly as he starts walk around, squinting, while trying to find mentioned apples.

”Eh... Where are they?”

Trey turns, planning to guide him himself, when you are suddenly raising your cane, the tip of it moving in the direction of a basket with red apples.

”Ace, I think, they should be here,” you remark softly.

Neither Ace nor Deuce find anything extraordinary in your act, which makes Trey realise that it must be not the first time you do so. But he is astonished!

He examines you once again, and as he stares right in your colourless eyes that almost never blink, Trey is sure: you don't see anything. That it is not a lie.

...Perhaps, you are not without a magic as others think you are?

Ruggie Bucchi. 💛

— Alright, I am sorry, but Ruggie doesn't give a fuck if you are blind. It is not about bullying—he wouldn't do that—but he will not try to pamper with you either;

— And as soon as he realises that you, in fact, are highly aware of everything around you, Ruggie is even more comfortable around you;

— But! Your instincts are reminding him of beastmen—he had seen a few of them, who were just as blind as you, and you act suspiciously a lot like them—and so, he starts having a very strange theories about you.

•

Ruggie holds his breath, and as his back straightens, he is ready for attack.

In his homeland, he is considered to be one of the most dangerous beasts, a natural predator. He knows how to stalk his prey, how to stay out of its sight, and how to bring food back home. So, of course, watching after you, shouldn't be a—

”I know you are hiding on the tree, Ruggie.”

Urgh. Just how you always know where he is?

Here you are, sitting on the bench under this tree. And Ruggie, who stands atop of it, too high to be heard, shouldn't be noticeable even for a usual humans. Even he made a sound—but he didn't!—how could you say that it is him? Unless, you are feeling his scent, just like a beastman would...

Ruggie keeps his silent. Maybe, it would be easier to trick you this way, and then...

”Ouch!”

Almost when he touched your shoulder, you easily hit him with your cane.

”Ruggie,” you sigh. ”I thought, you are better than his.”

Rubbing his hand, he can only murmur a quiet:

”Sorry.”

...His belief that you might be half-beastman are getting more and more rational with each passing day.

Jade Leech. 🩵

— Jade is somewhere between acting all gentlemen around you, and searching for a way to use your disability in his advantage. Nothing personal, though;

— When he realises that his calculations are completely wrong, and you are not so easy to crack, Jade is impressed. What a good challenge you are;

— Jade might get an idea that, perhaps, you are lying to everyone... And if so, he is about to catch you on this lie.

•

”Remind me, please... Had you been sightless from the very young age?” Jade asks casually, pouring tea in your cap; for a third time in this morning.

You nod with a gratitude, and your hand easily moves to your right, where the pot with sugar is located. Jade told you where it is, when you first started having a breakfast together.

”I had been born this way, yes.”

As you put one cube in your tea, Jade hastily moves the pot to an opposite side of the table. Waiting. His eyes pierces in yours, trying to notice some strange signs. Anything.

”How complicated it must be.”

There is always a possibility that you just have those colourless eyes, which helps you to lie to other. Perhaps, you are as mischievous as he is, after all.

”Well. I think, it would be harder if I lost my sight earlier in life,” you smile.

Your hand flawlessly moves to the new location of the sugar. Jade hums in the disappointment.

...Once you will crack.

Jamil Viper. 🧡

— When he hears about you for the first time, he can't help but huff about how irresponsible headmaster is, if he allows you to walk around these dangers so easily;

— Much later, he becomes your close friend, and with that, he finds out about your talent. Jamil had never seen such things before, he thinks you are a miracle;

— But he will accept it without any side thoughts. He trusts you, and overall, Jamil is simply glad that you are not as enamoured in this world as he first thought you are.

•

Jamil knows you are coming from a ringing knock of your cane in the corridor. And, so, he rushes to the doors, opening it widely, still with apron around his waist.

”Good afternoon, Y/n.”

”Hello, Jamil,” you hum, slowly stepping in.

It is a secret for Jamil why some of his classmates are thinking that you are lying about your blindness—or use a secret magic for moving around—when a little evidences of it are always here.

He can say it from the way you never make sharp on inaccurate movements—he had only seen you running with Grim on your hands—and move slowly, though, gracefully. Or how you relay a lot on you cane.

”I had prepared a few pastries for you,” he exclaims quietly. ”From the Scalding Sands.”

You might be independent, but Jamil still thinks you struggling sometimes.

”I can smell that,” you smile. ”Thank you.”

But it is not a problem. He will make sure to help you from time to time.

Rook Hunt. 💜

— Oh! Oh! Rook can't hide his curiousity when he hears stories about you;

— As someone, who relays a lot on his senses and instincts, Rook fully understands what helps you through your blindness;

— So, if anything, he thinks you are a lot alike! Rook constantly helps you to develop and sharpen your senses by taking you on walks around the forest, or asking about what you feel in certain rooms.

•

”Incroyable!” Rook sighs out delightfully, eyes sparkling as he stares at you. ”You are such a talented person, ma flèche!”

Another little laugh escapes your lips, and Rook can't help but feel proud of how happy you are about these dates of yours.

He wants you to feel equal with others, but even more, he desires for you to know how much better you are, than the most.

”Ah, you are flattering me, Rook,” with a free from a cane hand, you rush to wave him off. Then, you frown suddenly, tilting your head on the right. ”Ah... I think there is another bird, Rook. Behind you, on the left.”

As soon as you warn him about it, Rook swiftly turns on the told direction. A mere second and arrow flies past you, hitting a target easily.

”Parfait!” He praises you again. ”You notice things even quicker than I do!”

As your cheeks blush furiously, Rook only smirks.

If you only know how special you are!

Lilia Vanrouge. 💚

— Lilia is a war veteran, so, he is not surprised by your abilities. He had seen a lot of his old comrades losing their sight in the battle, and slowly learning to live with consequences of that;

— But, he finds it impressing either way. Especially, considering that you are just a mortal. It is fascinating how strong and brave your kind can be;

— And, Lilia loves how you are always aware of his presence, never being scared of his sudden appearances, like others usually do. It is rewarding!

•

”Ah, aren't we going to be late?” Cater sighs, shifting from one leg to another, while scrolling through the Magicam. ”That's ridiculous.”

You hum, pressing your shoulder to the wall, yawning.

”Why are we even waiting?”

”What do you mean why?” Cater frowns. ”We can't go without Lilia... And I don't know where he is, but dude is really late.”

It is your turn to frown now.

”Cater, Lilia had been here for another five minutes,” you say. ”Just look up.”

Cater is suspicious at first, but then, as he does what you told him to do, a terrified help escapes his chest. Lilia is, indeed, here. Hanging from the ceiling, smiling cryptidly.

”Hello, love,” he flashes a smile at you. ”And hello there, Cater.”

”Hi, dear,” you wave at him. ”Well... Can we, please, go now?”

Cater sighs. His face is still pale, when he hisses out:

”You both of you are awful. Period.”

Lilia only chuckles at that. Well, aren't you just a perfect match?

[milla-frenchy]

3k4 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 Summary: Joel comes back home after a few days away and catches up with you Warnings: 18+ mdni. PWP. Established relationship, spitting, spanking, allusions to somnophilia, size kink, praise kink, oral (f/m), ball sucking, rough sex, dirty talk, cum eating (m), rimming, ass play. No age specified, no outbreak a/n: same couple : 5 days collection but can be read alone @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog thank you for correcting me, and for being here for me, always 💕🫶🫂

series masterlist | Masterlist

Joel opens the door of the house, making as little noise as possible, returning home after 5 days of absence for a construction site. He locks the door behind him, walks towards the bedroom and pushes the door. You’re asleep on the bed, on your back, with a book open on your stomach. He takes off his sweatshirt and approaches the bed. Gently, he brushes the strand of hair covering your face behind your ear and you moan softly.

His cock twitches.

He watches you sleep and he hesitates.

Does he get undressed and lie next to you, holding you close until you wake up?

Does he spread your thighs with his shoulders before eating your pussy?

Does he take his cock out and settle between your legs, brushing your folds with his dick? Sinking into your pussy little by little, until you wake up feeling filled, without immediately understanding what is happening?

He’s fucked you in your sleep so many times, taking advantage of you like you both agreed to long time ago.

He sighs and puts the ideas aside. As if to punish himself for having had to leave. He goes into the bathroom then closes the door behind him, turns on the softest light, so that the ray of light under the door doesn't wake you up. He undresses, gets in the shower and turns on the water. He puts his face under it and lets the water relax him.

*********** 

You wake up to the sound of water running and you smile when you understand he’s back. You walk through the bathroom, before opening the door. His back is turned, and the sound of the water prevents him from hearing you come in. You move closer to the shower and he turns just as you step in to join him.

You wrap your arms around his neck and nuzzle your nose against his cheek.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t want to wake you up.” He caresses your back with his hands, while the water runs down both of your bodies.

“I missed you, Joel. I didn’t want to fall asleep before you got there but I couldn’t stay up any longer.”

“I missed you too, baby. Let me hold you.”

You nod and kiss his cheek. You know each inch of his body, but you can't help but run your fingers over his shoulders, along his back, before hugging his waist. You feel his cock against your lower stomach.

“Joel?”

“Yes baby?”

“Wanna feel you inside me…”

He smiles and says “I’ll tell you what. We shower, then we go to bed, and I’ll take care of you.”

“Wanna feel you now, Joel…”

He pushes you against the shower wall and holds you there. He looks at you and kisses your lips “I said”, your earlobe “we shower”, your neck “and then”, your collarbone “we go to bed”. He turns you around, pins you to the wall and bites your shoulder “I’ll take care of you.” He presses his pelvis to you, and feeling his cock against your ass makes you reel.

“Understood?”

“Yes… Yes, Joel, understood.”

“Good.”

He grabs the shampoo and washes your hair, massaging your scalp. You let him wash you afterward, resisting the urge to beg him again. Then, you wash him. Running the soap over his body, his cock, and letting your hands trail on his shaft for a little too long.

“Sweetheart…”

“I’m just washing you, Joel…”

You smile at him in a way that contradicts your words. 

You get out of the shower and dry each other off. You feel his hand lingering between your thighs and on your ass, but you don't say anything. You know that soon he’ll fuck you, and so you’re ok with waiting. That way you can enjoy him, his touch and his skin for as long as possible.

And it’s like Joel is taking his time too. He brushes a strand of wet hair behind your ear, and kisses the delicate skin just below.

You moan as he kisses you, his hand on your neck. His tongue brushes against your lips, playing with them, then slips in between. You hear him breathing harder, as your tongues caress each other, and he presses his cock to you, pushing you with his whole body against the wall. You can’t help but moan as he now presses kisses down your neck.

He grabs your thighs and lifts you up, your legs hugging his waist. You slide your hand between your two bodies to grab his cock but he stops you “no, not yet.”

You look at him, and you don't know if you want to mumble, kiss him, or impale yourself on his cock. You sigh and resign yourself, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and you let him lead you to the bedroom. He sets you down at the foot of the bed and kisses you again, then says “lie down, sweetheart.”

You lie down on the bed and he kneels on the floor, pulling your thighs towards him. He places his hands on your inner thighs, and spreads your folds with his thumbs. “Shit…this pussy is drippin’ for me.”

You let him touch you, spreading your folds with his thumbs. He does it in an almost perverted way while once again, like dozens of times before, you think that you have never felt so confident with a man as to let him do what you let him do with your body.

He leans down, eyes fixed on yours, and drops his saliva onto your pussy. You feel it slide down to your hole which he still keeps wide open, and you feel like just this sensation is bringing you to the edge of an orgasm.

“Joel…”

He watches the saliva slide down and doesn’t even look up as you beg him. He leans down and runs his tongue slowly from your pussy to your clit. He pulls away, looks at you again and sees the look of impatience on your face. He knows that you can't wait any longer, that you missed him too much.

And he smirks. He fucking smirks.

And fuck, you love him even more when he does that.

He slides his tongue between his parted lips and places his mouth on your pussy, pointing his tongue directly into your soaking hole.

You say “Oh fuck…” spreading your thighs even further and pressing your hands against his temples. He doesn't try to fuck you gently. He laps, he licks, he devours you. His nose rubs your clit. He fucks you with his tongue, holding your folds indecently open with his thumbs. You hear him groan between your folds as he trails one thumb up to your clit. You've been on the verge of orgasm for a few minutes and his gently rotating finger makes you explode without even having time to feel it coming.

Joel doesn't release you, and his tongue doesn't leave you as your spasms still contract your core. He places his hands on your waist and holds your pelvis against the bed.

You raise your head from the bed and say “Joel? What are you-”

“Ssssh”, he says “I want one more.”

“Wait, please...”

“Nuh uh. I want one more, baby.”

“Fuck,” you say, dropping your head back.

He keeps fucking you with his tongue, delving as far into your pussy as possible. He slides his right hand up your thigh, then your ass cheek. He pushes two fingers into your pussy, joining them with his tongue for a few moments.

His tongue then slides up to your clit as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. He places his lips around your clit and sucks it gently.

“Joel please….”

“What do you want, baby?”

“I… fuck… I don’t fucking know. Keep going please.”

And you can't see him, with your head still on the bed, but you know he's smiling.

He drips his saliva again, directly onto your clit this time, and your stomach contracts so hard that your head lifts off the bed. You look at him for a few seconds before lying back down.

You press his head against your pussy, as much as possible. You want more. More of his tongue, more of his mouth. More of his fingers.

The tip of his tongue plays with your clit and swirls around it, then he sucks it again with his lips.

“Joel… ‘m gonna come...”

He grabs one of your hands and says “feel your finger being squeezed with mine as you come."”

You stick your middle finger in, joining his. He laps at your pussy one last time, his tongue tangling with your fingers.

“Fuck,” you say.

He goes up to your clit, says “be a good girl and give it to me”, and focuses his tongue on it. Your finger slides against his inside you, and it's so sensual, this sensation coupled with his tongue is so strong, that you feel like you're overwhelmed by your emotions. You let them come, you want to cum, and you want to please him, you want to give him everything. And that's what you do when your orgasm hits you, when you feel it explode inside you and send shivers through all your senses. You spread your thighs and dig your finger in your pussy with his.

“Damnit, baby”, you say.

He pulls his fingers out of you and grabs your wrist as he stands up. The emptiness inside you makes you moan, while his movement makes you sit up on the edge of the bed. The change of position is so sudden after your orgasm that your head is spinning. He brings your middle finger to his mouth and sucks it. You feel his tongue slide around your finger. Your eyes are locked on each other, and he begins to jerk off with his other hand.

You watch him suck your finger, captivated. You swallow your saliva with difficulty, mechanically. Sometimes you can't believe this man is yours.

You finally tear your gaze away from his, to look at his cock, so close to your mouth. So thick that when he refused to fuck you unprepared in the bathroom, you didn't blame him.

His wrist movement slows down, barely perceptible, and he finally lets go of his cock to grab your chin and pulls it up to his face, just as he removes your finger from his mouth. He keeps your wrist in his hand and makes you grab his cock.

His gaze is piercing, when he reads in your eyes all the emotions that are churning within you: your desire for him, your love for him. You see his jaw tighten and he says, “Blow me. Need your mouth.”

You continue to jerk him and place the flat of your tongue just above your hand, moving up to the tip of his cock, eyes fixed on him. Slowly, so you cant feel each rib, each inch of his skin. When you reach the tip, you feel him tense, and his fists clench. You surround it with your lips and collect the precum with your tongue. You want, you need to be closer to him and you kneel at the foot of the bed. You concentrate on the tip of his cock, swallowing all of it and enjoying feeling the precum flow down your throat. You suck him from the tip then all the way to your hand, a little more each time, to get used to his size. He places one hand on your head and hesitates to squeeze your hair between his fingers. Finally, he places his palm next to your ear and just follows your movement.

“It’s so good, baby. You do it so well.”

His praise turns you on, your hand tightens more firmly around his shaft and your tongue leaves his cock to wrap around his balls, one by one. With your tongue flat, you lift them and slide the tip of it up to his scrotum. You linger a little on this thin skin, before taking a ball in your mouth, then sucking it. You feel it rolling under your tongue.

“That’s it baby. Lick them. Fuck. That’s it, just like that.”

You smile and you slide your tongue to his other ball. Your hand passes under his balls and gently lifts them. You lick in here again, this skin so delicate, so soft. Even further this time.

“Fuck babe, what you doin’? You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doin’ like that.”

You move up to his shaft, because selfishly, you don't want him to cum. Not yet. You take him in your mouth, and this time, as you move down to the base of his cock, you take him deeper in your mouth. Then down your throat, until your nose is buried in his hair. And you stay like that, his cock buried in your throat.

“Shit baby… You… fuck, it’s so good.”

His hand comes to wrap around your throat, full of his cock.

“Baby… Fuck. You take all of me. All my fucking cock in your throat. Damn.”

You pull back slowly and his fingers feel your throat return to its usual size. You swirl the tip of your tongue over his slit, jerking him off again.

“Shit baby… Fuck. Stop, please. I’d die to fuck your throat again but right now… I wanna fuck my pussy.”

His possessiveness gives you chills, and you step back. He helps you up and grabs your neck with his hand, before kissing you. His kiss is hungry, your tongues search for each other and your teeth sometimes collide.

“Lie on your back,” he orders.

You do as asked and spread your thighs as he settles himself between them. He takes his cock in his hand and slides it along your folds, up to your clit.

“See how she’s drippin’ for me babe? She gets my whole cock wet.”

“Of course she’s drippin Joel. She hasn’t been fucked in 5 days….”

“Mmmm…poor little pussy. She missed that cock, didn't she?” He continues to jerk off against you and you say “please Joel…”

He places the tip of his cock against your entrance, and barely sinks in. You moan and say “fuck me, Joel…”

“Wait.”

You frown and wait.

“I want you to remember this feeling of my cock getting ready to sink into your pussy. I want you to feel how she wants me to thrust in, then how she's gonna clench when she’s ruined by my big cock.”

And he thrusts in, eyes fixed on yours, and you can’t help but take a deep breath, as he continues to thrust and force your pussy open for him. He continues to push, push, push, gently, forcing your pussy to spread as he passes, until he bottoms out.

He doesn't take his eyes off you once, while you struggle not to close yours, under the sensations felt. A mixture of pleasure and mild pain, the feelings that you would like to memorize for the rest of your life, because it reminds you that it’s during these moments you are the most alive.

He stays buried inside you and waits for you to open your eyes again. He gives you a forehead kiss, while his dick is throbbing inside you. Your stomach quivers, as your heart leaps in your chest.

He pulls back almost completely and sinks in again, slowly. He takes a slow, deep pace, and his lower abdomen rubs your clit continuously. This stimulation, his slow strokes with eye contact, make you feel a new orgasm rising inside you, while your hips roll in the same rhythm as his.

You must look like a wreck because he says “oh baby… it’s so much, isn’t it? Look at you… so cock drunk. For me and my cock.”

You whine upon hearing him, you’re so close to cumming now, and you hear him murmur in your ear “I feel it coming sweetheart, your pussy is clenching around me.”

Your moans increase and he says “like that baby… just like that. Come for me.”

And you cum, digging your nails into his biceps, while continuing to rub your clit against his lower stomach.

He murmures “Good girl. My good girl”, keeps the same rhythm during your orgasm and says “shit baby… this little pussy squeezes me so hard, she wants me to blow my load, doesn't she?”

He freezes inside you when your spasms stop and you hear him breathe slowly. You gradually come to your senses and he tells you “‘m gonna fuck you now, baby. I’m gonna catch up for the 5 days I lost, and I don’t know if you’re able to walk tomorrow morning.”

As if you haven’t just come, you think that just by hearing him you could have another one. Your pussy twitches and he adds “my pussy wants to get ruined, doesn’t she?”

He pulls away and sinks in. So roughly that you can't hold back a scream.

“Damn baby…one thrust and you’re already screaming?”

“Fuck…Joel-”

He thrusts in again and you can’t finish your sentence. He sinks further. And again. You become a rag doll in his arms. You let him set his pace while his forearms are on each side of your head, his arms under your shoulders.

“What do you wanna say, baby?”

You can’t speak.

“No? Nothing?”

Again, you can only moan.

“Oh poor baby, you can’t even speak, can you? Too full of my cock?”

He smirks as he looks at you, and adds “That’s ok. As long as you take my dick that good, I don’t need you to talk. My. Good. Fucking. Girl.” He sinks in with every word.

He fucks you less deeply but faster. You think he wants to cum but he pulls out and tells you to go all fours. You’re shaking so much that you lean on your forearms, your cheek resting on the pillow.

He smacks your ass cheek hard.

“Fuck baby… Missed your ass too.”

He thrusts in you and places his hands on your hips.

He fucks you so hard that you try to get away just a little, but he catches you with his hands and thrusts in again, saying “Oh no, sweetheart. You ain’t goin’ anywhere else than on my cock”

He accelerates the movement and if you weren't already leaning on your forearms, you would have fallen, because he's ruining you so much, fulfilling his promise.

“What’s your safe word?”

“It’s…. It’s “arrow”.

"Good. You can still talk. So you can still take it.”

“Fuck… Of course I can take it. D’ya think I’m.. shit… fuckin’ fragile or somethin’?”

He smiles and adds “I know you’re not, baby.”

He pushes you forward and you fall flat on the bed, under his weight.

“But I still want to ruin you and make sure you can’t walk properly tomorrow.”

He grabs a lock of your hair and pulls your head back “Ask me to ruin you.”

You smile, and say “ruin me, Miller.”

He holds your cheek against the pillow, and starts pounding you. The energy you still had when you answered him seems gone and all you can think about is his balls slapping against your pussy.

“Show me Joel…” You’re so tired, but you still want more.

“Show you what, baby?” he asks you, slowing down his pace.

“Show me…that I’m yours.”

“Damn baby…”

He pulls out and straddles you, on his knees. Spreads your ass cheeks and spits on his cock, before sinking into your pussy.

“Mine. No one can fuck you like me.”

He spits again, and the saliva hits your ass. He presses his thumb to your ring and pushes it inside. He fucks you, the tip of his thumb buried in your ass and he chases his orgasm. You hear him grunt “fuck… I’m gonna come.” You feel his cum squirting into your pussy and he quickly pulls out, pulls your ass up, spreads your legs and laps you up.

“Joel…”

“Don’t tell me you can’t. You can always give me another one when I ask for it.”

His nose is resting on your ass as he licks your hole filled with his cum. You grab the sheets in your fists, and then he laps from your pussy to your ass, until he pulls away and slides under you, on his back.

He grabs your hips and pulls you into his mouth. He licks and sucks your clit, and you come one last time, exhausted.

You catch your breath for a few moments, and say:

“Joel? Maybe you should leave for work more often.”

He laughs, spanks you and says “give me 10 minutes and we’ll see about this bratty attitude, baby.”

***************

Same couple: 5 days collection

****************

Thank you for reading 🙏 Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 7

part 1 | part 6 | chapter 1 on ao3

cw: panic attack, ptsd flashback to minor character death, graphic depictions of… food? lol

Dinner is exactly as chaotic as Steve expected it to be. He and Claudia take opposite end seats with a glass of red wine each, and the kids take the middle and start acting like a pack of caffeinated raccoons: talking over each other, scraping forks against plates, stretching their entire upper bodies across the table and dragging their sleeves through the side dishes instead of just asking someone to pass them the butter; Steve’s starting to wonder if any of these kids have ever eaten at a table before, or if they maybe just wandered in from the surrounding woods. Feral asses.

When they do start asking for things, he regrets wishing they would, because Lucas goes “Erica, can you pass me the salt?” and Erica sneers “I don’t know, can I?” and Mike jabs “Whatever; nobody says ‘may’ anymore, you dork” and Claudia gasps “Michael!” and it all escalates from there until Dustin tries to catapult lasagna off the end of his fork and hits Steve in the side of the head with a glob of warm cheese.

Silence falls around the room.

The cheese plops onto his plate.

“Sh-ii-it,” Dustin breathes, face stuck in wide-eyed shock.

Steve gives Claudia an imploring look.

“Why don’t we clear the table for dessert?”

The commotion starts up again in double time, everyone scrambling to clean up and clear the room before Steve starts bitching about them messing up his hair (and his plate, and his clothes, because the cheese splash sent a spray of little tomato sauce droplets splattering all over him, and isn’t that just perfect; he’s gonna have to hand-scrub the stain out of his khakis), so it’s just him and Dustin left when Dustin��s elbow catches and tips over his wine.

The liquid spills onto his plate: dark, and red, oozing into the uneaten scraps of sauce and cheese and pasta to form a viscous, fleshy sludge. Red like his dad’s office, like his father’s mangled thigh, and it’s just food it’s just food it’s not blood it’s not blood but he can’t fucking breathe, can’t hearing anything beyond the wet, gasping sounds his dad made the night he died, and then he realizes that he’s making them, mouth moving fruitlessly around air that won’t pass, trapped in the bottleneck of his choked-off windpipe.

“Steve?” Dustin asks, and his voice sounds far away. “Shit, shit, Steve! Can you hear me? Are you choking? I know the Heimlich, just- just hold on!”

He snaps out of it when Dustin pulls him halfway from his chair, gets his fists under his ribs and all but punches the air from his lungs. It sets off a nasty coughing fit that leaves Steve snotty and ready to hurl, and he braces himself with his forearms on his knees and stares hard at the ground until the hacking finally stops.

There’s a scuff on his sneakers.

He can’t replace them any time soon.

A moment to catch his breath, and Dustin’s shaking him by the shoulders. “Are you okay??”

Steve keeps his head bowed. “Yeah.” He needs to get the fuck out of here. “Yeah, I’m good.”

He rises from his chair, grateful that everyone else already cleared out before they could witness his little moment, that the blare of the TV from the family room covered the sound of his retching coughs; more grateful still that they won’t notice him now, scampering out of here with his tail between his legs. “Hey listen, man, I’m not feeling so well,” he says absently, fishing his keys from the pocket of his jeans. “Can you get your mom to drive everyone home?”

“Shouldn’t you stay?” Dustin frowns in concern. “If you’re sick? You can go lie down in my room or something, it’s—”

“—Nah, man; I mean, thanks, but…” His hand trembles around his keys, the muscles in his calves screaming bolt, bolt, bolt. “I just- I gotta go.”

He makes a break for it, rushing out the side door so no one else will see him leave (and he knows it’s fucking rude to head out without saying goodbye, but he’s also pretty convinced he’s going to combust if he doesn’t go right now.) “Tell your mom I said thanks, okay?”

“Tell her yourself!” Dustin chases after him, clumsy and slow across the darkened yard. “Dude, will you slow down? Talk to me!”

Steve throws himself into his car like there’s a demodog on his heels. “I’ll call you!”

“What the fuck!” Dustin shouts, but Steve’s already gone.

—

part 8

tagging a few people i know have been following along 🩷 @slowandsteddie @paintsplatteredandimperfect @stevesbipanic @pennyplainknits @ledleaf @hellion-child @formosusiniquis @missjashin @runninriot @xpaperheartso @steddieas-shegoes

[alexfromjersey]

A SCHOOL TAINTED WITH BULLET HOLES

Vada Cavell x G!P OC

Word Count: 2.0k

warnings: school shooting, mature language, gun violence

A/N: I’m trying to write as much as possible before I visit my dad for three weeks so pray that I can at least finish half this book and at least three chapters for my other book.

Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

Poke. Poke. Poke.

You were being awoken by the feeling of someone poking you in your side, face, and thigh. You peel one eye open and are met with wide eyes and yellow rotten teeth. You jump fully awake, frightened, and scoot to your wall.

The sickly-looking man let out a laugh at your reaction, “Oops didn’t mean to scare ya.” The man was wearing nothing a dirty stained white t-shirt, no bottoms on.

“Rip! I told you, this room is off limits” The familiar voice of your mother enters your room. She was in a red silky robe that was loosely tied and her hair was disheveled. 

“My bad. I was just trying to look for the bathroom” Rip snorted and moved away from you.

“Last door on the right” Your mom answered. 

Rip nodded and turned back to you. “Sorry kid” He shrugged and left your room. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Your mother comes to stand in front of you. 

“I’m sorry baby but I told you to always make sure your door is locked every night so things like this can never happen” She spoke softly. She tries to push some hair out your face but you flinch away from her. A hurt look appears on her face. 

“Get ready for school or you’re going to be late” She sniffled and left your room. 

You sat on your bed for a good extra five minutes before getting yourself ready for the day. You got dressed in a black pullover hoodie, black t-shirt, faded blue jean shorts, and beat-up black and white Cortez. You grab your bag, skateboard, and essentials before leaving your room. You make sure to lock your room up before heading downstairs. Thankfully, Rip was still in the bathroom so you didn’t have to see him in the kitchen. You brushed your teeth and washed your face in the kitchen sink. 

After you finished, you leave your house without a goodbye from your mother. As usual, you’re met with the sight of your two friends, Quinton and Devyn Hasland. 

“Sleeping Beauty has finally awoken from her slumber” Devyn joked in a broken English accent. 

A smile appeared on your face and you dap the brothers up. The three of you start your journey to school.

“You know Principal Adams is coming for you for missing like a whole week of school. He’s been hounding me and Q for the last week about your whereabouts” Devyn said.

“I don’t care. School is a fucking joke” You shrugged.

“School helps you get a job” Quinton commented.

“No, school helps you become a dumbass corporate zombie. It doesn’t teach you any life skills. Not how to do taxes. Not how to save money to get a house or car. Or basic life shit that you need to survive. How is a2 + b2 = c2 gonna help me in life? When am I gonna need to know that shit? Fuck school til the day I die” You smiled and stuck your middle finger up.

The three of you continue your journey to school. As you approach the school, you see a rail that you always practice on.

"Watch this" You smirked and throw your board down.

"Nice" The brothers compliment as you skate back towards them. You felt a pair of eyes on you so you turned around and they lock on to dark brown ones.

Vada Cavell.

You knew her from your Chemistry class with Mrs. Victor. The two of you never spoke but always catch each other staring. Quinton and Devyn follow your eyeline.

“Oh my god, I wish you would just let your balls drop and go talk to her. The longing gaze from across the room is so Twilight” Devyn groaned. 

You pull your eyes away from her, “You watched Twilight?”

“I only watched it with Jazmine” Devyn defended. 

“Lie. Mom and Pops caught you last week, without Jazmine, watching it in the basement. According to Mom, you look very engrossed in it” Quinton laughed. 

“There was nothing else on TV” Devyn sighed. 

You and Quinton let out a laugh as the three of you walk inside the school. The brothers make their way to their lockers while you head to breakfast. You were starving and didn’t realize it until you got inside the building. By the grace of God, you managed to get to the café before they closed. 

You grab your food and head to pay for it. But when you pulled your wallet out, you realized a $5 bill you had was missing. You sighed out in frustration.

“Fucking dickhead” You mumbled. You put the food back and turned around but you ran into someone. 

“Miss Vaughn, nice to know you’re alive and well. Follow me” Principal Adams demanded. 

You sigh and begin to follow the principal to his office. But another body runs into you. 

I can’t catch a break today. 

“Sorry,” A sweet voice apologized. You looked down and saw Vada. You open your mouth to respond but Adams interrupts you. 

“Ms. Cavell the bell is about to ring. Head to class now” Adams ordered. 

“Sir yes sir” Vada mocked and saluted him before turning on her heels, and walking to class. You chuckled lightly and continued following Adams. 

The two of you made it to his office which smelled like straight black coffee and boiled eggs. You already knew what the talk was going to be about so you just relaxed in the chair. 

“Jordan Vaughn…failing every single one of your classes and racking up a whopping 37 days absent. It’s not even spring break yet” Adams read from your file. 

You grab a red and black sharpie off his desk. 

“What is your goal Jordan? What is it that you wanna do with your life?” Adams asked. 

You continue to draw all over the underside of your board, not even paying attention to the man in front of you. 

Principal Adams sighed, “Miss Vaughn.”

At the call of your name, you look up at him, "Hm?”

“Listen I get it, school sucks and you don’t have a care in the world about your diploma. But you know who does... the world out there. Jobs won't even give you a second thought if you don't graduate. You need to start taking this seriously or you will be left behind while everyone around you is making it" Adams lectured.

"My goal is to become a pro skateboarder, last time I checked you don't need a diploma for it"' You shrugged.

"But you need money. You need money for the fees. You need money for sponsors. What if your board breaks? A diploma leads to jobs that lead to money which can help you become a pro skater.” Adams explained.

He had a point but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of being right. Adams grabbed a pamphlet labeled, Summer School. 

“You complete this program for one month this summer, you’ll be graduating with your friends next year,” Adams said and slid it toward you. 

You reluctantly take it and leave the office before he could say another word. 

The hallways were now empty due to everyone being in class now. You walk to your locker and open it. You are stunned to see an apple juice, strawberry Pop Tart, and an orange inside. 

“What the fuck?” You questioned. You remembered putting this stuff back. You looked down the halls and saw you were alone. You shrugged and started chowing down on the food. After you finished you placed your board and the pamphlet inside. 

SMACK! 

You jumped at the noise beside you. It was then followed by laughter. 

“I hate the both of you” You mumbled, mouth full of food as you looked at Quinton and Devyn. “Aren’t you two supposed to be in class?”

“Yeah, but Q saw you with Principal Adams so he texted me to come and wait for you in the hall. Why are you inhaling your food in front of your locker?” Devyn questioned. 

“I was hungry. But I didn’t buy this though. It was in my locker when I opened it” You answered. 

“Oh, food from Mother Theresa. I need one of those. Tell her to bring me some Burger King” Devyn joked. You rolled your eyes at the boy. 

“Boys and Miss Vaughn, the three of you need to get to class before I-”

A loud bang is suddenly heard. Everything starts to go in slow motion for you as you see blood splatter against the school walls. Two more bangs are heard and a girl lets out a blood-curdling scream. 

More bangs are heard, now in rapid succession. You barely process the fact Devyn is now on the ground in a pool of his own blood. You look up to see a kid from one of your classes standing there emotionless with an automatic rifle pointed toward Quinton. 

“DEVYN!” You hear Quinton scream. It brought you back to reality as you looked down and saw Quinton holding his brother’s body getting blood on himself. 

“Quinton! We have to go! Come on Quinton!” You shout as you pull him away from Devyn’s lifeless body. You push him to run down the hall. Another gunshot rings through the hall and you feel a searing pain in your hip area. You push through the pain, you quickly open the door to the girl’s bathroom and push Quinton inside before locking the door behind you. The two of you cram into a stall out of breath. Sweat was dripping down your face and tears were falling freely down Quinton’s. 

Suddenly, the sound of metal hitting the floor made the both of you freeze. 

“Who’s in there?” Quinton questioned. 

No response. 

“We’re not the shooter. It’s Matt Corgan, we saw him” Quinton added. As your adrenaline begins to fade, the pain comes back in full force. 

More rapid gunfire outside the door makes everyone clench in fear. 

“Do you know where he is now?” A fragile voice asked. You can hear another girl’s quiet cries in the stall next to you. But you were too focused on the pain. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know, my brother” Quinton cried. Tears start to gather in your eyes from the pain and the current predicament. 

“Come, come under” The girl ushered. You let Quinton crawl under first. You bend down to follow but a torturous pain shoots through your body.

“Ahh” You cried out. You lift up your hoodie and shirt to see a gaping wound pouring out blood. 

“Jordan? What happened, you okay?” Quinton questioned. 

You start to feel lightheaded and the world starts to spin and before you know it, you fall onto the tile floor with a loud thud. Quinton quickly unlocks the stall door to see you trying to keep your eyes open. 

“No, no, no, no Jordan” Quinton cried and bent down to the floor. He lifted your tops and saw the wound. 

“Shit, help me please” Quinton called out to the two girls. His voice was quiet enough for only the people in the bathroom to hear. He puts pressure on your wound which makes you groan and squirm. The two girls exit the stall but retreat when they see you on the ground. 

“Please help me,” Quinton sobbed. The blonde-haired girl runs and grabs as many paper towels as she could. She hands some to Quinton and they put pressure on your wound to stop the bleeding. 

“Hang on, Jordan” Quinton cried. 

Meanwhile, your eyes start to flutter close but a warm soft hand brings you back. 

“Hey, you have to keep your eyes open. Don’t close them. Don’t close your eyes” Vada’s voice echoes throughout your head. 

Her eyes were bloodshot red and puffy with more tears falling freely down her face. She squeezes your hand tight to keep you from closing your eyes. The sound of police sirens and heavy footsteps can be heard. 

“Oh thank God,” Quinton said. 

You tried your hardest to keep your eyes open but they were getting extremely difficult. They were getting heavier and heavier until your eyes closed and your hand went limp in Vada’s.

[devzo]

Hi hi! Can you do a fluff to smut where Bill Confesses his feelings for yn ? (Female reader) 2009 era

CONFESSING FEELINGS

Bill kaulitz

content: fluff+smut

a/n: I didnt know which era of 2009 you wanted, ‘cause man had a thousand different one in the same year. So i just chose the dread one, you can imagine him differently!! Thank you for the request, and keep them coming!

You and Bill were close, really close. You were practically joined at the hip, always together whether it was hitting the mall, shopping, or just chilling at each other's places.

You had invited Bill over for a movie night, and there you were, huddled up on the couch with white chicks playing on the TV. "I want to tell you something," Bill's voice breaks the silence. "What is it?" you respond, your curiosity piqued. You moved slightly, now fully facing him, your attention solely on his words.

"I… I like you, I’ve liked you since i first laid my eyes on you," Bill admitted, his words catching you off guard. Knowing he felt the same way after all this time filled you with an overwhelming sense of joy. You leaned in for a kiss, and he reciprocated it happily. Bill deepened the kiss, his tongue entering your mouth. As it tangles with yours, he wraps his arm around your waist pulling you close as his other hand cupped your cheek, a tender gesture that spoke volumes.

Without breaking the kiss, he gently urged you to lie back on the couch, positioning himself between your legs with an intimate closeness. He was needy, and you could feel it.

He trailed kisses sloppily down your neck and collarbone, his hands trembling as they slowly move to take off your shirt, pulling it over your head as his gaze falls to your lace covered breasts. "You're so beautiful," he whispered softly, his words filled with genuine admiration.

His fingers traced the outline of your bra, reaching around and unclasping it. He watches as the straps fall from your shoulders while smirking to himself. He couldn’t believe you were giving yourself to him, since the day he met you, he never thought this exact moment would happen.

But here you were, sprawled out on the couch, in only your underwear as your clothes were thrown somewhere neither you or Bill cared. You looked down, the tent evident through Bill’s skinny jeans. His hands quick to unbutton his pants, unzipping the fly and taking them off, tossing them near your own. The only thing separating you from pleasure were your underwear.

Your hand relocates from your side to the back of his neck, tugging at his dreads impatiently. “So impatient, are we baby?” He coos softly, chuckling slightly when he hears you whine, He reattaches his lips to you neck, quickly finding your most sensitive spot as you moan softly.

Your other hand found it’s way to the waistband of his boxers, your fingers slipping in and out of it. Bill sensed this, his hand brushing yours off and he takes off the fabric, His dick sprang free, the veins on it more prominent then ever, the tip red with precum dripping from it.

His hands shifts to your panties, pulling them down with a swift move. His eyes were glued to your pussy, the folds a pretty pink and glistening. “Such a pretty pussy,” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss just above your clit, eliciting a whine out of you.

“please, Bill.. Stop teasing and just- Oh fuck!”

He lowers his head and licks a stripe up your slit, the small metal ball on his tongue felt cold on your skin. Bill reaches your clit and wraps his mouth around it, sucking gently.

“Oh my god.” you moan out as bill probes at your entrance with his finger, slowly inching it inside. You clench your thighs together, leading Bill to pry them apart, spreading them wide giving him room. His tongue flicks out tentatively, tracing the edge of your folds while driving his finger in and out of you.

He adds another finger, now his middle and ring finger in you. This adds to the euphoric feeling. He curls his fingers, brushing against the most sensitive spot inside you, making you see stars. He continued sucking, nipping, flicking, at your clit.

“Bill, fuck. I’m close.. Dont stop!” You moan out. Bill smirks against your skin. “Are you baby?” His fingers picking up speed inside you. You unconsciously squeeze your thighs together, almost suffocating Bill, but not that he’d mind being suffocated by your thighs.

Your walls clench around his fingers, your release close. Your eyes shut tightly as ebony covers your vision, with white specks enveloping the sight.

“’mcumming’mcumming, fuck!”

You exclaim as you reach your climax, releasing in Bill’s mouth as he gladly takes what he wants from you. He slurps up your juices, humming approvingly to himself. “You taste so good, baby.”

He leaned up and kissed you, His hand moving for your thigh to your breast, he squeezes slightly, his tongue entering your mouth as you gasp, making you taste yourself. You cringed slightly at the taste.

“Are you gonna let me fuck you?” Bill whispered against your mouth. “mhm.” you hum desperately, you could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, begging for release. He positions himself at your entrance, slowly pushing just the tip inside making you whine.

With one fluid motion, Bill slides into you, his girth stretching you in ways you never imagined. His hips began to move in a slow, sensual grind as he feels the heat of your body surround him.

“mm, you feel so good, baby.” He picks up the pace, the sound of skin clapping surrounding the room. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you. Now not just brushing against your g-spot, he’s directly hitting it. Your nails drag along his back, leaving trails of pleasure-pain behind.

Bill’s thrusts becomes more forceful, his moans mix with yours, creating a symphony of lust and desire. “I’m so close.” he warns, his breath hot against your ear. “Me too.” you say as you clench around him. With that small move, Bill groans loudly and releases himself into you, his seed pouring deep inside you.

You follow him soon after, Bill continues to thrust gently into you, riding out both your highs. When your highs subside, his body shudders with pleasure as he leans forward, collapsing onto you, his breathing heavy and erratic. “You did so good for me.” Bill nuzzles into your neck, his hands gently caressing your body.

“that was… incredible.” You state. “you are incredible.” he corrects, provoking a smile from you as pulls out of you, rolling off and laying down next to you. He wraps an arm around you pulling you closer to his chest and he pets your hair, mumbling praises about how ‘You were so good to me’ ‘You were such a good girl.’ ‘You okay?’

[writersdrug]

Mourning Dove

König x Reader

Chapter 2. Dead End

Masterlist

Summary: You managed to escape Drew, and you have a plan. Who knew walking for an entire day could be so boring?

Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, cursing, brief mentions of rape/unwanted sexual intercourse, anxiety, mentions of death

It was surprising how much stamina Drew had after a day of putting up with you – and you’d been intentionally dense that day.

For the last fuck you were letting him give, in the most literal sense, he’d chosen to take his time with it. You had resigned your dignity to the pine needles and humus when he had shoved your face into the ground. It was a much more forgiving position than having to look him in the eyes as he used your cunt – you managed to tune out the unwelcomed intrusion by pretending your body was rooting into the earth with each thrust, until you could become one with the dirt, irrelevant to both Drew and the infected.

One can only dream.

Still, your hard work had paid off: after a full day of nagging him, playing dumb, and letting him plow his frustration into your body, he was wiped. He had collapsed onto you after he’d spent himself inside your walls, panting and groaning like an animal (a wounded one, to any passing wanderer). Then, promptly after that, he banished you to lie underneath the fir tree, at good three yards away from him. He didn’t like being touched after sex, which was a blessing in your situation.

You couldn’t tell what time it was – which was always. But there was no clue to whether you were closer to yesterday’s sunset or tomorrow’s sunrise. You began to create questions in your mind, ones that pressed like nails into your plan, which seemed more paper-thin as the night continued on. What if he woke up before you could leave? What if you don’t get far enough, and he catches up to you? The possibility of your plan failing was more terrifying than if you would end up becoming infected, or snapping your neck falling down the steep mountainside.

Every fiber of your body was telling you to stay still. What if it’s better to stay with him? What if I die in the first thirty minutes on my own? Instinct told you to remain with Drew, to stay with the pack. That quantity was quality in this situation. But you respected yourself too much. You’d spent a whole week promising yourself that this would be it – there were too many encounters of blood and bruises by Drew’s hand to convince you to stay rooted to him.

If you didn’t go tonight, you might never take the risk again.

Drew hadn’t stirred for the last fifteen minutes – or what felt like it. Your eyes were locked on him out of fear and anticipation. He could wake up soon, or he might not. The unknown was what terrified you. But you knew he was exhausted. You had made sure to tire him out throughout the day, mentally and physically. You’d planned this. It would work. You just had to get moving.

Thankfully, the only foliage beneath you consisted of the pine needles from the fir, and they hardly made any noise. You rose as slowly as you could, your eyes fixed on Drew’s unconscious silhouette across the small clearing. One knee carefully pressed underneath you, then the other, laying your hand against the tree trunk. Pushing your palm against the rough, prickly bark for stability, you leaned your weight into it and rose until you were standing.

You paused there for a moment, your pulse thrumming in your ears. Your breath ran shallow and quiet as you were frozen, eyes locked on his form, your mind already brimming with fear. It felt wrong to be on your feet when Drew wasn’t. Part of you expected him to wake up in an instant, imagining the angry words and beating that would follow soon after. Your skin was too familiar with the feeling of his hand, either open or closed, laying bruises somewhere along your body. Without the possibility of someone seeing the marks, Drew hadn’t been worried about leaving them where they weren’t hidden by your clothing, meaning most of them were visible along your face, arms, and legs. You looked more like the infected than a human, you thought.

Focus.

You managed to peel your gaze away from him, taking a quiet step towards the bags. The night was unsettlingly quiet as you knelt in front of them; you carefully grabbed the handle of his pack, wincing at the sound of the canvas brushing against your skin. The more dire the situation, the louder the nose, it seemed. The zipper was equally and unfortunately as audible as you tugged it open. It was meticulously organized, a pocket for every item within. You tried your best to sift quietly through the items, only taking what you needed, or what you saw Drew using on a daily basis. One of the Lifestraws (he said something about them lasting for ages, so you didn’t take both), two MRE’s, his flint and steel striker, and a small medkit (military grade, he had boasted). You had your own backpack of things that Drew had given to you – it wasn’t designed for you specifically, it was just an extra Armageddon rucksack that had been lying in the back of his car, and you were the extra pack-mule to carry it. A clean change of men’s clothing, the majority of the remaining protein bars, another multitool, extra batteries and some maps. It wasn’t filled to the brim, but you wanted to travel light.

You left the bag unzipped and laid it back down. Of course, he would know that you had fled once he woke up in the morning. You could only hope that it would buy you a few more seconds of time once he would grab his backpack in a hurry, only to find you had stolen from him, too. On the chance that he did wake up within the hour, any extra moment of time could be the difference between life and your corpse lying in the river.

Quietly stuffing the supplies into your backpack, you glanced back at Drew. He was in the same position as when you first got up; facing the decline of the forest, sleeping bag tucked tightly around him. You really must have wiped him out, considering he hadn’t changed positions since his eyes had closed. That same sense of uncertainty clawed its way back up your throat as you watched the rise and fall of his diaphragm: this is a bad idea. If you go through with this, and he finds you, you’re dead. He’ll murder you. You’re being selfish. He’s helping you, and here you are, stealing his shit and running away. If he doesn’t find you and kill you first, the infected will. Or you’ll die of your own stupidity. Just because you wanted to prove a point.

Like water from a tap, you let the thoughts flow from your brain and out of your mind. It was normal, natural to have so much anxiety. But you let it pass.

It was time. You had everything – ironically, only what was necessary – and the cover of night. It felt impossible to turn back now; cowardice would be a worse sentence than death, and your pride was, somehow, still blooming brightly in this dark age. A tendril of stubbornness poked above the surface of your doubt as you glared down at Drew. You leaned down, letting a fat glob of spit land quietly on the ground next to his back.

Good riddance.

The forest was unbearably quiet as you shouldered your backpack, polyester sliding noisily against your cardigan. The click of your flashlight made you cringe, the sound bouncing off the surrounding firs, shooting back into your skull like lances. After a moment of recovery, you cast the light ahead of you and started-

“Mmh… what y’ doin’?”

Fear took hold of your throat like a vice, strangling the breath that was leaving your lungs. Your limbs turned to stone, one foot out in front of you, frozen mid-step. Daring to turn your head, you saw him reach a tensile arm out and above his side, thick fingers flexing towards the sky. He pulled his hand back down and behind him, groaning quietly as he stretched his shoulder muscles.

Fuck fuck fuck-

“Bathroom.” You replied, the rest of your body as still as a statue. Air hadn’t made its way back into your lungs since you first heard him speak, and each second felt like a lifetime.

His arm lowered back down, retreating into the sleeping bag. He didn’t answer you, his silence stretching across the clearing and drowning out the sound of your own heartbeat. Your pulse thrummed in your chest, flowing down your arms and into your fingertips where the flashlight shook in your trembling hands. You waited… waited… but nothing. The rhythmic, deep breaths from before resumed their pace, and you finally exhaled a quiet breath between your lips.

That was your cue to leave. You weren’t going to test your luck any more than you had spent.

With quiet breaths and leftover adrenaline coursing through your veins, you left the clearing, the cliff, and the fir that was your shelter. The cold air reached deep into your lungs, bringing in determination and resolve, exhaling uncertainty into the night. You reassured yourself: you were prepared, you had a plan, and Drew was none the wiser, nor was he awake to find you. You had a head start. You were proud of yourself. Breaking the cycle wasn’t easy, especially when sticking in groups was preferred in such a situation. But, you did it. Even if you ended up succumbing to cruel weather, starvation, or whatever elements decided you didn’t deserve to live, it would be a better fate than sticking around with a monster of its own kind.

Fortunately, you were able to cover decent ground while it was still dark. The sun had only just begun to rise when you had estimated four miles between you and Drew. The woods were a bit daunting when the early morning fog was thick, and the haze surrounding you was a deep azure, providing barely any light. Your flashlight didn’t do much to help you see; it bounced off the mist around you, enveloping you in a blinding wall of white. You’d headed west until you were ablet to make out the rough terrain beneath you, and then decided to retire the flashlight. You only had so many batteries, after all – the entirety of Drew’s stash.

Make it back to the car. That was the plan. You weren’t sure if it would even start after all this time, but Drew had revealed over boiled water and lukewarm MRE’s that there was an extra battery stashed in the trunk. If it came with instructions – bingo. You’d be back on the main road before too long.

You had your deductions: any towns might still have usable supplies and canned goods – at the rate the infection was spreading, there wasn’t enough time for the stores and pharmacies to be drained of everything. You needed the car to get to the closest city, and based on the map you’d been studying over the past few weeks, it would only be an hour’s drive. There should be enough gas left in the tank to get you there, if not a short walk from it. If you took the autobahn, you had a chance of avoiding the infected, since there weren’t many “resources” for them there. If you did have to walk the last portion of the trip, you might be lucky enough to miss them completely.

Finding the car was the most difficult part; reading a map was surprisingly not easy, and the only reason you hadn’t lost yourself in the penciled-in mountains and trees is because you had followed the river. Each bend that you shadowed was an echo on the map’s interpretation, and if you followed it for another mile or so, it would be a straight line south to the area where Drew had abandoned the car. Locating the car would prove to be a challenge, since you would have to break away from the river to find it. But you trusted yourself to recognize the area once you (hopefully) stumbled upon it. You may not have run into an end-of-the-world situation before, but you weren’t helpless.

The early-afternoon glow that cocooned the forest was helpful in calming your nerves. The world seemed pre-apocalyptic here; you stopped for a brief moment to appreciate the birdsong calling through the trees, and the gentle wind blanketing over your anxiety like a balm to your soul. If you forced yourself to pretend, the pine trees and the mist could appear almost aesthetic. Like this was just a hike in the woods. Maybe you were on a journey to self-discovery, choosing to meander through nature just to break from “the real world.” The fantasy was short-lived, however, when the rustling of the contents of your backpack roused you from your maladaptive daydreaming.

Every now and then, the snap of a branch or the shuffle of leaves would have you breaking your neck to check your surroundings. It was unlikely that an infected could have climbed up the mountain this far, let alone quietly enough that you had missed it. But, the world had already proven to be rather unpredictable; you couldn’t afford to take things for what they were. What if they’ve learned to hunt?! What if they eventually make their way up the mountain when they run out of fresh meat? Anxiety had rooted itself into your scattered mind, tearing holes into it like the ground did to your shoes.

What if there was nothing left in the town besides dead, hungry corpses? What if the car doesn’t start? What if you never find the car? What if you’re lost?

You shook your head clear of the mess of questions. Thinking like that would only send you into a spiral of despair, and you didn’t have the energy to waste on supporting whatever secure mentality remained. One foot in front of the other – that’s what you had to force into your mind, squeezing your eyes shut hard enough that purples and yellows kaleidoscoped behind your lids. Deep breath in, and out. You were lucky enough to have made it this far without being caught by Drew.

Drew. The thought of him alone made uncertainty resurface, and you opened your eyes with a dissatisfied sigh. He couldn’t be close… right? He didn’t seem like someone who would bide his time once he had discovered you, frolicking in the forest with his protein bars and his gear. Based on the lack of his shouting, and the absence of someone rushing up the hill to tackle you, it seemed he hadn’t discovered your trail yet. Maybe he hadn’t even realized that you were missing. Considering the energy he had put into fucking you the night before, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was still asleep at this hour.

Whatever hour it was, anyways…

You huffed, kicking a small stone further down your path. A glance at the map confirmed that you were still in the right area, and that you’d be following the river for a while. Progress had seemed so easily obtainable at the beginning of the journey, but now, dare you say it, you were bored. It seemed selfish to experience such a feeling, when you were lucky enough to have been one of the ones to survive the infection. Based on the map, you had walked nearly twelve miles – have you ever walked that much in a week, let alone one day? You deserved the right to be bored.

Hours passed agonizingly slowly, and the golden halo of light gradually turned into a warm orange, then waned off altogether. The haze of mist around you became colorless and thick, seeping into the cracks of your mind and stirring up the fear you had been stomaching all day. You knew it made no difference to the infected – they’d hunt you by the light of the sun or the moon, there was no preference. But it made you wonder… were they the worst things out there? Could there be other abominations lurking in the woods, waiting for you to take one wrong step?

Stop it, you scolded yourself. Another sigh fell from your lips. Get it together. You’re fine. You were never afraid of the dark, but that fear was slowly seeping into your bones with each passing day of this damn virus. They didn’t sleep. They didn’t have to. You did.

Enough was enough, you decided, as a deep blue began to settle between the trees. You didn’t have much longer before it became too dark, and you wouldn’t be able to see. The chill around you only seemed to drop further – shit, should I have been setting up camp by now? You didn’t even think about that. The intention of finding the car had sucked every other rational thought from your mind; you didn’t expect that task to take more than a day.

Good thing I took the flint and steel, you thought. Gathering bits and bobs for the fire was easy; decent chunks of wood and broken branches lay scattered about the forest floor, and you scooped up as much as you could into your arms. You found a boulder not too far ahead of you, not nearly as big as the one from the night before, but it would provide enough shelter to push your back against. The sky was nearly midnight-blue now as you dropped your bag by the rock (boulder seemed too generous of a term, now that you were looking at the thing up close).

With some leaves and twigs, cold fingers, and a great deal of patience, you managed to bring a small flame to life with the flint and steel. You cupped your hands around it and blew, begging whatever cruel being had started this whole mess to let it catch into a bright fire. Each log you carefully placed over the blaze slowly took, and you soon had a warm campfire.

You didn’t care if this wasn’t smart, or if you were making yourself a target for the infected. Exhaustion and the dropping temperature were the only two things on your mind now; Drew was an afterthought, now that you’d had the chance to calm down and take a rest. Considering you were a “dumb bitch” in his eyes, as he’d so politely put it, you trusted that he had assumed you would head south in search of the nearby city. It was safe to believe that you had fooled him, and you were making do just fine on your own.

The ground was cold and wet as you curled up onto it, pushing your back against the rock. You attempted to pretend this was all one, big, dumb camping trip, but that failed when you remembered the lack of a sleeping bag or any sort of cover. You felt just as bored as before, plagued with both prostration and restlessness, and a wandering mind. You were still alone, which was both a relief and a fright. At least with Drew, you had strength in numbers…

You made the right choice to leave. Despite having to remind yourself of this every hour, and despite the gnawing feeling in the back of your mind that maybe this was a mistake, you know it was the right thing to do. Drew may have ended up killing you eventually, if you had given it another weak. He’d only let you use so many of his resources before he would decide that your sex wasn’t worth lugging you around for. Not only that, but you had to prove to yourself that you weren’t utterly helpless. You moved all the way out here on your own, didn’t you? It wasn’t luck that you got stuck in the apocalypse with the worst man in the country – it was unfortunate. You weren’t lucky to have Drew. Maybe his car, his extra backpack, and the map he’d forced you to study for the past several weeks, but Drew wasn’t your savior.

You were your own savior.

You rolled away from the fire with a groan. The flames warmed the skin on your back, spreading across it like a blazing liquid, but it felt good. You leaned into that, focusing on the heat and the crackling of the fire. The burning pine was acrid, but comforting. You had always dreamed of taking a vacation in the heart of Olympic National Park, didn’t you? This wasn’t much different. Ignoring the circumstances, the only real difference was that you were somewhere in Europe, not the states. But with the way things had been carrying on recently, you doubted that borders between countries really mattered anymore.

With your eyes fluttering shut, you imagined that there was a warm cabin behind you; that you could go inside if you really wanted, that you were choosing to spend the night in your front yard. If the night grew too cold, or if the ground was too stiff, you’d just head back to your cozy room and queen bed. There’d be pancakes waiting for you in the morning, and you’d be happy, and warm, and safe.

Next ->

Taglist: @nic-stars @teenagellamaangel @zhuyingsworld @crypticme @konigswifeyforlifey @zlunia @gremlinmodetweeker

[dudeslut]

A Fitting Punishment

Want to be caught with my pants and underwear pushed down around my ankles as I desperately hump my hard tdick against a dom's computer chair. They catch me right as I let out an embarrassing whimper; I'm so horny I don't even notice them at first until they clear their throat to announce their presence.

Immediately I stop. My face flushes with embarrassment, words of explanation catch in my throat. I try to just walk away without a word, too flustered to address anything, but they grab my wrist, wordlessly pointing to the wet spot of precum on the arm rest.

Before I can say anything they're dropping onto the chair and manhandling me across their lap. I didn't have time to pull my pants up so now I'm draped across them with my bare ass on display.

"You want to rub your cock and leaky hole all over my stuff like a whore, you're gonna get punished like one," they punctuate their threat with a hard spank across my ass cheek. I let out a loud yelp that precedes a deep moan I try - but fail - to stifle. They pause their windup for a second strike when their brain processes what they heard.

They huff out a light laugh, "I shouldn't be surprised a slut like you would get turned on by this." Another smack from them and another restrained moan from me.

"Did you think I couldn't hear you playing with yourself at night? Two fingers deep in your own hole while you jerk off your tiny pathetic dick, whining my name? I've been thinking about having my way with you for awhile now~"

A few more loud smacks follow and it's getting harder to hold back my pathetic noises as each strike causes my dick to rub against their thigh. It's no doubt my cunt is leaving a wet spot on their pants that's only getting bigger with every hit.

I desperately don't want them to notice my arousal leaking out onto them so I protest, "P-please stop."

"Stop? Why would I stop when I can feel you leaking onto me." Shit. "Your hard little dick poking my thigh was a good first clue. You're loving this~" Another hit. A full moan ghosts past my lips this time.

"See, your words can lie but the rest of you can't," they taunt in a sing-song voice. "You're getting so pathetically horny from just this? I wonder what other slutty noises you make when your ass is played with in other ways."

With a mischievous grin, they reach down to my cunt and swipe up some of the slick, causing me to tremble. They inspect the slick briefly between their fingers before their hand is in front of my face to show me.

"All this already? God you're easy." They withdraw the slick-covered hand and with the opposite hand, begin groping my ass cheeks. Spreading them apart to expose my needy little asshole. My breathing slows in anticipation for what I know is coming next; my breath is released as a gasp upon feeling their cold index finger settle gently on my rim as it begins drawing small circles.

My body relaxes at the sensation of my own slick coating my sensitive asshole. After a few rotations of their finger, they push in; my eyes widen and I choke out a moan at the delicious feeling of being stretched. My needy asshole swallows the digit with ease, prompting them to add a second finger before gently prodding around to gauge my reactions.

"Fuck this is a greedy little asshole. You took my fingers no problem. Who knew you had such a slutty loose hole?" they taunt, moving their fingers in and out at an agonizingly slow pace. "Bet you've taken so many big dicks up here. Maybe even two at a time! Yeah? Getting gaped like a faggot so you're always prepared to get fucked like one."

"Y-yes," I admit breathily, to their amusement. A third finger gets added, making me throw my head back in ecstasy, giving up trying to hide the moan that escapes from me. I hear them chuckle as they resume the slow, rhythmic pace they'd set. Each stroke to my inner walls has me curling in on myself with need. I shove my ass back, taking their fingers in deeper and begin rocking my hips to fuck myself. "Fuck-!"

Their hand stills, and I continue fucking myself, whimpering as my dick rubs against their thigh with each thrust of my hips. I shift my position, now driving their fingers into a sweet spot that has me seeing stars. A moment later and I feel myself approaching the edge, my hole clenching around their fingers. "Oh f-fuck fuck fuck I'm gonna cum I'm gonna cum I'mgonnacumI'mgonnacum-!" I yell out.

That's when they pull out, while I flop into their lap with a dry, choked whine at the loss. Before I can protest, a shrill whimper is forced out of me by a hard swat to my red ass and their other hand yanking my head back by my hair.

"God you're such a slut! You really thought I was gonna let you fuck yourself to completion?" They give me a few more rapid swats that have me whining. "And why would you deserve to cum after being such a bad boy? I think this is the best punishment - leaving you denied and desperate."

"N-no! Please please please let me cum!" I plead, so close, squirming from the delicious stinging feeling on my punished ass. "I-I'll be a good boy...p-please!"

They shake their head, letting go and rolling me off their lap, onto the floor as my limbs are too wobbly to catch myself. "I don't think so," they coo, taking advantage of me being on the ground already by unzipping their pants in front of me.

"You'll just have to imagine cumming on my cock while you suck it~"

[monstrousfemale]

After the world finally stops threatening to end, sometime in late 1989, Steve quietly gets a tattoo across his ribs. It’s something personal and private, something he just needs etched into his skin because to not have it there would feel like a lie. He feels disconnected from himself, he feels alone, he feels like bullshit. Going into Indianapolis for the weekend and shoving the handwritten line at a tattoo artist is the most human Steve has felt in forever. The sharp pain of the needle followed by the dull ache of the healing process finally grounds him.

No one but Robin hears about this, though. And turns out outside of saving the world, now that he doesn’t swim as much, Steve doesn’t have that many excuses to take his shirt off anymore. So, the tattoo is a secret by omission, and Steve is fine with that. It’s his thing, and it doesn’t have to be exposed for it to mean as much as it does.

And it does mean a lot. It’s a mark of a new beginning, something physical to prove to Steve he is still around and kicking. 

And after that, life feels livable again. He has his friends, his only real family. He is managing Family Video now, after the owner had moved out of town due to world-almost-ending experiences. He is finally settling into being someone he actually wants to be.

Most importantly, Steve keeps in touch with Eddie as much as he can. They’re hanging out on and off all the time, falling into an easy routine without either of them meaning to. And by 1990, before either of them knows what hits them, they’re fumbling in the backroom at Family Video, making out against a shelf, VHS tapes raining down on them like falling in love: fast, hard, unexpected.

It’s all a blur of finally expressing things they had been keeping hidden for too long. Sharing secrets at midnight, back and forth with the pass of a joint or two or five. And after they start, they couldn't stop even if they had wanted to. They need this good thing. And they both know too well how fast the shit hits the fan around them. So, they don’t care for taking things slow, not after years of dancing around each other. All this to say, it doesn’t take long at all for Eddie to find himself in Steve Harrington's bedroom.

He’s sitting against the headboard, watching as Steve gets rid of his clothes. He had been expecting an almost childish awkwardness from Steve, because Eddie knows he hadn't done this before, not with a man. Not that Eddie has that much experience to speak of himself, but he had come to terms with it way earlier. It doesn’t matter what he had expected though, because in truth Steve is smooth, sexy even. He removes his clothes with purpose and devastating eye contact. He gets rid of his pants, and then his shirt is coming off – finally, finally messing up that amazing head of hair of his.

Eddie almost gets too distracted by Steve's intensity to notice the tattoo. When he comes closer, though, Eddie places his hand over his ribs. Instinctively, he just has to look and see what his skin looks like against Steve's skin. And there it is, right by his fingers. Pitch black ink, already healed over, already fully Steve. The words are stark against his pale skin. I want to be adored. Eddie has the air knocked out of him.

Steve looks down, confused for a moment. "Wha-?" he starts to ask, but then his brain catches on. Steve feels self-conscious, kisses Eddie to distract him from what he'd found. He hadn't known this is how he would feel, had never felt ashamed or embarrassed of much about his appearance before. And this isn’t quite shame. But this is Steve, bared, naked, in ways that go above a state of undress.

Eddie breaks the kiss, hand splayed over Steve's chest. "Fuck, Steve. When did you get that?"

"A while back. It's nothing." It is everything. It means so much to Steve, he'd never have the words.

Eddie's eyes soften, skimming the words again and again. The smile that graces his lips is tiny, a kind little thing Steve usually only sees on his face whenever he is around the nuggets, Max or Dustin usually.

"I can make that happen," Eddie says, honesty dripping from his words. It isn’t his usual, larger than life rambling. This is Eddie seeing him, really seeing him.

"What?" Steve asks, to diffuse the tension. A self-sabotaging little jab at their clear connection, because he actually thinks he knows exactly what Eddie means.

"I can adore you, big boy," Eddie says, and his playful spark was back. He winks, pulling Steve close by the shoulders. He gets both of them on Steve's bed. Steve's chest aches.

"Shut up," he says, because he doesn’t know how to accept something like this. Doesn’t know how to process that anyone would care, that anyone would pay attention.

Eddie rolls his eyes at him, flips them on the bed so he can straddle Steve's hips. Eddie traces the ink on his skin like it is precious. He kisses Steve hard, kisses his love into his lips, pushes it into his mouth like he does his tongue.

"I do adore you," Eddie says later, after they're both tired and spent and sated. After sex has made things fuzzier. It feels so simple now. It is so true.

"Eddie," Steve starts, ready to tell Eddie about all the ways in which he, Steve, is fucked up. Instead: "Thank you."

"Hey, I got you."

And Eddie does, he really does.

[dxckgrxsonx]

HOPE I'M NOT LATE!! But exbf!Dick dry humping you before fucking you just bc he is bitter about you sleeping w others after him and telling you that you don't deserve to actually feel him so he is going to only make you cum like that ((which is a lie, homeboy doesn't have that much self control))

Pairing - Exbf!Dick Grayson X (F) Reader Words - 1.4k Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Graphic Sexual Content - Dry Humping - Dirty Talk - Swearing - Angst - They still have feelings for each other ur honour. Notes - ahnjdsjkfkk hii!! you’re not late my darling, I’m always here for exbf!Dick thoughts 😏 I’m not putting this in the actual fic but you’ve inspired me so uhhhh...here you go x

MASTERLIST

**

He’s a complete contradiction.

There’s nothing consistent about him and there's some raw part of you, peeled back and stinging at the sight of Dick Grayson, suffering at the hands of his own internal conflict. He says one thing but it knocks into another and nothing he wrangles from his own mouth matches up, none of it makes sense.

It’s been over a year without him and even now, he still feels familiar. A lost language you still know how to speak. A recipe you don’t need to read to know how to make. He keeps his phone in the same pocket. Still holds himself tense and ready to shut you down if you prod at the wrong wound.

Always trying to take his own emotion out of the equation and failing.

“Are you even hearing yourself?” You finally snap, half rounded towards his bedroom door. “You’re fucking unbelievable.” Dick grinds his teeth, jaw flexing. You don’t see the hesitation on his face, but you feel it right through to your spine bones. “You’re asking about my personal life like you still have a right to know the answer. We broke up, Grayson. It’s been over a goddamn year.”

He reels back, only slightly, but enough to let you know that you brushed along the wrong bruise, the wrong wound he still can’t get to fully heal over.

“I asked you one question.” Dick growls.

He shifts on his feet and you find yourself automatically moving to compensate. Annoyingly, you watch as Dick catches your slight shift and dissolves into something smug and knowing. Over twelve months apart and you still read each other like the back of your own hands.

“Two.” You confess. It comes out like a taunt, a shining weapon ready to cut him straight down to the bone. Parts of you haven’t changed. You find that even though you’re not together, you still experience the same pounding rush of emotion when you say something that riles him up. “Since you, there’s been two.”

Something on his face cracks wide open and you hardly manage to blink before he has crowded under him.

You’ll never admit it. Especially not to him, not to yourself, not even to God.

But you’ve missed this; missed him.

Dick is firm and heavy above you, pupils so dilated you can’t find the colour. Despite it, you still know the exact shade, can see it if you blink your eyes closed and focus. Funny, how your brain holds onto everything you learnt about him, how it refuses point blank to let it go.

Bullying himself between your thighs he forces your legs over his hips, spreads you out until you’re pressed up against him. There’s a push of his clothed cock against your covered pussy and Dick grinds down just hard enough to wrench a gasp from your mouth.

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip you whine when he grinds into you again, harder this time.

“I should remind you of what you’re missing. Should fuck you like I used to.” Dick says, grabbing your hands and pinning them over your head. He leans down close enough to have his breath tickle your cheeks, almost traitorously, you want to lean up and kiss him. “But you don’t deserve that.”

His biceps flex when you twist against him and try to wriggle out of his firm grip. Frustration hooks into each trembling nerve and your hips kick up, trying to grind against the outline of his cock.

You don’t need him to remind you.

Since the breakup, you’ve slept with two people and neither of them could give you what he could.

Dick smirks, emotion finally filtering back into the handsome lines of his face, “You’re not going anywhere. This is all you’re getting, and you don’t even deserve that.”

Your eyes roll back, “Dick–”

Rocking into your clothed cunt you feel your clit ache and start to swell up. The soft fabric of your underwear sticks to the slick, puffy lips of your pussy and when Dick grinds into you again, the fabric pulls up tight between your lips and presses firm on your clit.

Swearing under your breath you whimper when Dick moves his hands to interlock your fingers. It’s the first tender thing he’s done since seeing you again and part of you–the soft, forever grieving part of you–wonders why you didn’t fight harder when your relationship began failing.

Arching your back, your thighs tremble over Dick’s strong hips,

“S’not enough.” You complain.

“Well it’s all you’re getting. You either come from this, or not at all.”

Your pussy throbs, arousal leaking from your entrance, smearing across your underwear and rubbing up over your hard, swollen clit. You hate how even after all this time, Dick can still push you right up to the edge, can force you to balance on the tightrope he strung up.

“You hear me?” He breathes, dropping his head just enough to mouth at the shell of your ear. “You either come from me rubbing against you. just. like. this.” Puncturing each word with a devastating rock of his hips Dick smirks. “Or you don’t come at all, and I leave you all wet and horny.”

Heat burns up your neck, humiliation quickly building in your cheeks, “Please…hH–please.”

“You don’t deserve my cock.” Dick whispers, using more of his weight to render you immobile. “So m’not going to fuck your greedy little pussy. I’m going to grind against it, just like this, until it comes for me.”

Finally moaning you try to move but find that you can’t. Crushed under Dicks firm, unrelenting body you realise that you can’t do anything. All you can do is lie there and take what he gives you; even though it’s not enough and you want more.

“Oh–oh please!” You choke, squeezing at his hands and flexing your thighs for even a hint of leverage. “Dick…please I can’t come like this.”

“Yes you can. I know exactly what makes you come and this is something that’ll have your poor, needy pussy coming in no time.” Settling into a firm, consistent rhythm, Dick mouths kisses along the sensitive column of your throat. “So yes, you can come from this. I’m not giving you a choice.”

He grinds into you, once, twice, three times, and your whole world cracks clean down the middle.

Your pussy spasms, clit swelling even harder than before then dissolving into quick, rhythmic twitches. A shuddering sob works itself free from your mouth and you shake yourself apart underneath Dick’s talented body.

“There you go.” Dick coos, smug with the fact that twelve months apart hasn’t changed the fact he can still make you come without taking off a single item of clothing. “I know what you need. I know exactly what you’ve been missing. They just weren’t good enough were they?”

Spiralling up into the face of the stratosphere you wiggle one hand free and cup Dick’s cheek. You’ll hate yourself for it later, will want to cut off your own hand to try and distance yourself from his orbit. But for now, you’re weak and split open, ribs wrenched apart to reveal that each bone in your body still has his name etched delicately into it.

“No one since you has ever been good enough.”

Dick whimpers, hips stuttering into uncoordinated little thrusts as he comes. His face twists up tight with pleasure and endless pain. You don’t know if you want to soothe it or watch him suffer. Sometimes, you think that if someone asked you where you hurt, you’d place your hand right over your heart.

Releasing you from his slackened grip Dick flinches backwards and out of reach. It’s not regret on his face. It’s something older, something deeper. You don’t know what it is; you don’t want to know.

You leave his room without a word; without looking back.

If you did look back, you would have seen Dick touch his hand to where he hurts the most.

Right over his heart.

**

[evermoreparker]

Lost in Translation- Chapter Six

Synopsis: Peter and you were inseparable since you were kids, until you started hating each other right before you two went to college, but now Peter needs your help to win a bet.

A/n: Hi!! It's been sooo long! I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes, I didn't check it this time. Enjoyyy! 💜

Did you really just sleep with Peter Parker? Your arch nemesis? Yeah. But you can’t deny that he looks so cute, softly snoring. Is that such a huge mistake?

Definitely. What the hell were you thinking? You hate his guts, and he hates yours. He didn’t mean any of that shit he said to you last night. You two were just in the moment. That's it. Two adults that slept with each other. Does he think that too? Was it meaningless? You really can’t tell. It’s just driving you crazy, having all these thoughts running through your head, and he is sleeping so pretty, without a care in the world. You can fix that. 

“Get up.” You throw a pillow on his face and he catches it mid air. Well… Does the ground count as mid air?

“God you were so nice last night, forgot how bitchy you can really be.” He mumbles against your pillow.

“Yea, great night. Whatever. Had better.” He smirks.

“Great night, huh? It meant that much to you?” Peter sits on your bed, rubbing his eyes just like he did when you two were kids. Carelessly and with a big yawl after. 

“Just shush. We should have recorded this…” Peter laughs.

“Oh my God! You are so obsessed with me.” He smiles. 

“For the bet we made, dumbass! They wanted something like my moans or some shit. Now we need to reenact it.” You see Peter smirking. “Absolutely not like that. More like in Easy A.” Peter nods. You loved that movie when you were a teen. 

“Fine.” Peter gets up heading to your bathroom and coming back smelling like your very expensive body wash after 5 minutes. 

“YOU DID NOT.” He knew exactly what was yours and what was your roommate’s. 

“Oh I did.” He attempts to hair flip. “Thanks for the shampoo!” He proceeds to sit on your bed with a wet towel around his waist. 

“PETER GET OUT OF MY BED.” He smiles, not moving from your bed at all. In fact, he just grabbed his phone to check and there are a lot of messages from his ‘friend group’. 

All of them are talking about that they heard from someone, that they heard from someone else, that he left the party with you. God he hates every single one of them.

“Do you wanna call the bet off?” You snort at what he says. “What? Are you scared?” Peter rolls his eyes. “Now get OUT OF BED.” 

“Fine!” He giggles at something on his phone, and you don’t know why but it pissed you off so much. 

“Can’t you leave already?” He scoffs. 

“Oh please, stop lying. We both know you want a piece of this again.” You stare at him before you burst out laughing making him feel self conscious. “Fuck you! That was mean.”

You nod. “I am mean. And we need to win this bet. I wanna buy a new bed.” He nods.

“Yours look good. What’s wrong with it?”

“You were on it.” He gasps. 

“So what? You are gonna burn it or some shit?’’ You scoff. 

“No! But the sheets, yes I will.” He laughs, coming closer to you. 

“You can lie how much you want, but we both know you don’t regret last night. Neither do I. So let’s just be grown ups, which I know is extremely hard for you, and admit we had great sex last night and that was it. It doesn’t have to be a big thing, just casual. And you know…’’ He reaches out for your hand. “It could happen again if you wanted to.” You stare at him, getting a bit lost for words. How the fuck do you respond to that? And he was right! Sex was great. But that’s Peter we’re talking about! 

As you ponder on what and how you should answer to Peter, your roommate bursts the door open. Thankfully, Peter is putting his clothes on.

“OMG! Sorry, I didn’t know you had someone over! You didn’t text me! Wait, is that…”She rudely points to Peter. 

“Yes and he was just leaving.’” Peter gives your friend a half smile and finishes getting his stuff. 

“Alrighty then… Bye Y/n.’’ He curses out himself for saying alrighty as he closes the door. 

Back in your dorm, your friend is smirking at you.

“You dirty little b-”

“I didn't plan it! It just happened, and- Well, yea.” She nods, waiting to hear more about it but you’re saving the details for yourself, it seems. No one can know that Peter fucked you that good. 

“And?” She sits on her bed waiting for more. 

“And it was just sex! Nothing special, so don’t get your panties in a twist!’’ You can’t help but blush as you recall what happened the night before. She keeps smirking, knowing you’re about to blurt out everything. You take a deep breath before admitting what you’ve been dreading. “He’s so…goodinbed” She gasps. 

“Now was that hard to admit? Did you come?’’ You nod. You two had a very open relationship about everything. 

“God why was it so good?’’ Your friend rolls her eyes at your question.

“Because you two are both young and attractive people who happen to have an unresolved past and will later on fall in love?” You laugh. 

“Oh please, we don’t hate ourselves that much.” She smiles with a knowing look.

“You two are already a ‘we’!” You hit her with your pillow.

And outside of your dorm , Peter doesn’t know what to do with what he just heard.

[sunnebeam]

one more kiss.

DRABBLE.

pairing: kim seokjin x reader

warnings: smut (minors do not interact), unprotected sex (this is fiction, but please be more responsible irl), angst, cursed!reader, mentions of past deaths in which reader feels responsible for, open-ended (i'll leave it up to ur imaginations what happened next heh)

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: ok so this is just me turning most of my fic ideas into short drabbles just so i can check then off my wip list ^^ so without further ado, here's a drabble for our lovely jin! let me know what u think

Quiet nights often bring loud thoughts.

Take tonight, for instance. It's rather quiet and peaceful, fluffy clouds filtering the moonlight, no other sounds except for the beat of your heart and his. It's a tranquil night, and for an overthinker like Seokjin, it's a night of loud what-ifs.

What if he kisses you?

He'd love to. You've been together for a while now, yet he never once tasted your lips.

What if you kiss him?

You'd love to, too. But you love him more, and you won't ever let his lips find a home in yours.

You can't.

"Hey," he calls out to you as you're both snuggling blissfully in bed, your clothes and his in rumpled heaps on the floor, the light sheen of sweat covering your bodies a testament to the lewd acts you both just engaged in a few moments prior.

"Hmm," you hum in acknowledgment, your fingers tracing patterns on his skin near where your head lays on his bare chest.

"Do you love me?"

You're tracing your initials now.

"Do you love me?"

"I asked first."

You're tracing his name.

"I do," you finally whisper, and feeling vulnerable, you add, "more than I should."

He halts your fingers' movements and takes your hand in his.

"I do, too," he whispers, bringing your hand to his lips, mindful of your slight hesitation when you feel his plump lips on your skin. "Will you do something for me?"

"Anything."

And that's all the permission he needs.

Flipping you over, he lays you on your back and hovers above you — a position all too familiar in lovers' bedrooms, but not in yours.

"Wait," you say, frightened at the change, "Jin, we can't—"

You've never done this before. You've only ever fucked in positions where he's pounding into you from behind. You've never had sex facing each other before. And for good reason.

He kisses your nose, and you freeze in fright at the action, at the feeling of his lips just a few centimeters from your own.

"Trust me?" he pleads, looking straight into your eyes.

It's not that you don't trust him. It's just that you know he won't be able to resist.

After all, nobody was ever able to resist.

That's just how the curse worked – with your lips luring in their prey, and their victims unable to resist.

"I can't lose you," you tell him, eyes tearing up.

And like a moth to a flame, the moment their lips touch yours...

"You won't."

...they die.

It's why you never let Jin kiss you. It's why you never have sex in missionary. You can't take any chances. You can't.

Too many people have died in the past because of you, because you were careless, because you were reckless. Too many people have died because of your kiss, and you'd be damned if you let Jin be another one of them.

"I thought you understood." A tear slips down your cheek. "I want to, I swear. But it's too dangerous, Jin."

He catches the tear and wipes it away.

"I promise I'll be careful."

Now, Jin has always been honest with you. But tonight – with you in his arms like this, with your resolve starting to waver, and with your tiny nod finally giving him silent permission – he prioritizes your peace of mind over his and decides to lie to you.

He's lying to you as he cradles you in his arms and places kisses on your neck. He's lying to you as he moves his fingers to your wet heat and preps you for him. He's lying to you as he then pumps his cock and slowly slips inside you.

"F-Fuck," you moan at the stretch, hands clutching his shoulders in a death grip. The sensation the unfamiliar position brings is too much for you, and you find yourself nearing your climax in a way you never have before.

"You're so wet," he groans, thrusting into you in a slow, sensual pace, and feeling your pussy clench uncontrollably.

"I'm so close, Jin," you whimper, not even the least bit embarrassed that you'll finish so early.

"Let go, love. It's okay."

He wants you to let go. He needs you to let go of all your fears, your burdens, your inhibitions. Everything.

He wants you to give them all to him. He needs you to let him carry them, shoulder them, bury them. For you.

Because he's your soulmate. Your one true love.

"I'm cumming!" you cry out, reaching your high.

You're coming undone around his cock, your pussy milking him and coaxing him into his own orgasm. He follows just seconds after, spilling inside you and staying there until his dick eventually softens.

He pulls out slowly and looks at you.

Your eyes are closed and you have a small, content smile on your face at this new level of intimacy you just experienced with your lover. And it's that same, content smile that prompts him to do what he does next.

He kisses you.

He kisses you because he always wondered what it would be like to kiss you, always wondered what your lips would taste like on his tongue, always wondered what your lips would feel like pressed against his own.

He kisses you because he always wanted to kiss you, always wanted to feel close to you, always wanted to experience this kind of intimacy with you.

He kisses you because he always thought about what your life would be like if you weren't crippled by your curse.

What if there's a cure? What if there's something he could do? What if, somewhere, somehow, there's a way?

And so tonight, there would be no more what-ifs.

Because he read about curses like yours and there's a theory about how only one thing can fix it.

A true love's kiss.

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[luv-gukkie]

cherry | 𖦊 : five

pairing: yandere! taehyung x f. reader, yandere! seokjin x f. reader

genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || yandere

summary: you’re the cherry on top of everything. the little girl in front of your parents; the gooody two-shoes of your family, friends, and everyone who knows you. so when you’re staring at the two bright, red lines on the pregnancy test. you know you’re fucked, you really do. especially when there’s not only one man, but seven.

word count: +1.1k

tags/warnings: taehyung being helpless without reader, fun!, waste of good wine, lovie-dovie things, and that’s pretty much it!

notes: i love how taehyung is so cute with reader, it makes me happy. mr. kim seokjin made an appearance! ;)

tag list: @bananamochidaisy @mageprincess7 @darkuni63 @princess-sunshyn @redeyezbloodymouth @bxcndd @iloverubberduckiez-blog

༻❤︎︎ ★ ★ ❤︎︎༺

taehyung sits on the couch with yeon-tan laying on his lap. he has a bottle of wine in his hands, unopened and eyes tired. his heart is ringing loud in his ears and he feels like he's about to die. you're nowhere to be found. it's been two hours since he called you, warning you. but it's only him in the apartment, no sound or chatter of another person to accompany him. it forms a lump in his throat because if you don't come by morning, will you continue to see him? have him pay for your things? spend time with him? what about everything you guys did together. when the bell finally dings, taehyung rushes to the door, leaving the pomeranian along with the wine behind. he hugs you as soon as the door is opened. he can smell your perfume and a mix of something else. a smell that only happens when—your voice snaps him out of daze. "tae, have you been staying up for me?" there's a pinch of worry in your voice, it softly wavers. he nods his head that is still hidden in your chest. you finally manage to enter the apartment, you have him sit while you cook his favorite food as an apology. "do you think your gonna pass?" you don't think about the lie you told earlier, letting the words fly out, "pass? what are you talking about?" you smile at him, "i think you're sleepy." taehyung just looks at you, eyebrows raised and that's when it hits you. "i'm joking!" you stutter out, face burning up from the embarrassment.

luckily, yeon-tan barks at you, distracting the both of you with his high pitched barks and swigging tail. the two of you end up in each other's arms with tannie in the middle. you play around with taehyung's hair and the little dog's tail. an old, french cartoon is playing on the television. one that taehyung loves to watch with you because he knows how much it makes you laugh. he opens the wine with ease that the cork flies out so easily. the white shirt you're wearing gets stained with the dark red splashes along with the silk, white sheets. out of the corner of your eye, you see yeon-tan run out of the room as fast as he can. you're tackled onto the bed by taehyung softly. his bare chest sticking to your t-shirt, you laugh at his face that's spilling the red vino out of his lips that form a tight-lipped smile. your sight catches the name of the black bottle that is has taehyung's hand wrapped around it, the red top shining: Pétrus and Romanée Conti. your eyes widen at the name, having heard it's taste is great but the price to it was unbelievable. half the bottle is already empty, either leaked onto the fabrics of your clothes or taehyung's bare chest or drying up onto the comforters.

taehyung laughs at your squeals to escape as he kisses your face all over until he he places one last, deep kiss into your lips. his eyebrows moving up and down, "want a drink?" you nod at the suggestion. that night, you stay in taehyung's apartment with your and his body all sticky, drinking and enjoying each other's company. almost like lovers. his fluffy hair is messed up by all the goofing around, his nose is covered by lip stick that will always be yours. while your neck is covered in one single love bite, one that taehyung pecked with passion after he was done making it. you fall asleep before him, his arms pulling you closer to him: chest to chest and legs wrapped around each other's. taehyung can almost hear his heart burst. his eyes closing with his head near your face, slightly falling into your neck.

you left taehyung's apartment after a home-made breakfast with him and a quick laundry wash. the afternoon has already come into place and your coming back home after finishing classes at your college. but a man standing at your apartment door with black hair and a bag of your favorite fast food place has you frozen on your feet. a shock on your face when he finally turns around. "i'm not too late, am i?" you giggle as you run up to him, bodies close to each other as the both of you find comfort in each other. "i brought your favorite!" he says while winking at you after entering into your apartment. "it's been so long jinnie!" you squeal, taking a large bite of the hamburger in your hand along with french fries. the place you love is always packed with busy crowds, the longest lines to order fast food. so how did he get them? oh right, kim seokjin is the son of a wealthy ceo. he can get anything he wants with a snap of his fingers. the conversation drifts smoothly between the two of you, comfort in your home. "you remodeled your apartment. it looks good." seokjin wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin. "yeah! i saved enough money." you give him a fake smile, knowing that each penny was from the man in front of you or the other men you spend time with.

"how was your trip?" you muttered, resting on the couch upside down with a full stomach. "beautiful. the people there were nice and the food was great," he lies down next you, "but i missed a certain, special someone." he whispers to you, "a lot." your hand wraps around his shoulder, "really?" there's a knot in jin's throat as he can't believe he's right in front of you after such a long time. even if it was just two weeks. his eyes gawk at your pretty face, still youthful with happiness and ethereal. his breathing seems to stop as you come closer to him, lips too close to his. just as he's about to land a peck, your head turns to side and he catches a flash of a grin on your face. feeling a featherweight kiss on his cheek. his heart warmth's at your action. "wanna do something?" your eyes give him a questioning look. "lets watch the night sky tonight. maybe a cooking show until then?" you laugh at the uncertainty on his voice as he mentions the cooking series. "good to see you're still the same seokjin."

while you put on the show, you don't care to look at the lingering eyes on you. knowing it's just seokjin. don't care to notice how he can't keep his eyes off you or more like your phone that keeps buzzing with messages. seokjin's hand itches with a need to grab it. and he thinks he just might.

[somebluemelodies]

since we're probably finally gonna be seeing spiderbit back together in a couple days, here's my personal take on their reunion :> just to be safe: tw for talk/implications of suicidal thoughts (under the cut)

They stay there for God only knows how long, holding on as tight as they can, in fear of what could happen if they let go.

(It could all change in the blink of an eye. Heaven forbid.)

They’d started their embrace standing, but it was short-lived, the weight of everything crashing down on them as their legs gave out, water building behind their eyes.

For now, it’s finally over. For now, it’s finally just them. And that’s enough.

It’s Roier who finally moves first, lifting his head from Cellbit’s shoulder but not pulling back far enough to leave his husband’s arms. No, he’s not ready for that yet.

He holds Cellbit’s face in his hands, brows furrowed as he stares him down. “What the fuck happened?”

“I didn’t—” the investigator pauses, seeming to rethink his words— “I chose to stay there.”

(He can never lie to the spider-hybrid, in any capacity.)

Roier’s brows furrow even more, if possible. “¿Qué—? Hijo de puta, what were you thinking?”

Cellbit glances away from him, eyes flickering down. He looks… guilty. Conflicted. “I… I saw Richas die in front of me. At least, I thought I did. And honestly?” He swallowed. “I wanted it to be over after that. I didn’t care anymore. As long as you made it. And you did. That was the only thing that mattered to me.”

Roier purses his lips, chest heavy. He understands, in a morbid truth - he really does. He thinks of how he felt immediately after Bobby died and the days that followed. The hours spent in the damn pool, hoping, praying for a way out. Falling from the heights of his castle without a care. The pain that still plagues him.

(He understands better than anyone else.)

But it was Cellbit who started to make him feel alive again. Cellbit who made his world even just a little brighter, even with the storm clouds of his own past.

And he’ll be damned if he loses him, too.

(They’re together. For better or for worse.)

There’s a question on the tip of his tongue. Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to stay?

(He feels like, deep down, he already knows at least a small semblance of the investigator’s answer. And it makes him upset. For Cellbit.)

(Why does this happen to any of them?)

But Roier doesn’t even have to ask. He knows Cellbit knows, somehow, by the way his husband studies his expression.

(They’ve become eerily good at reading each other. That’s just how they work now. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.)

The thoughts come pouring out of Cellbit before he can really stop them; the same ones he’d relayed to Baghera. “I knew you would've stayed if I told you. And I didn't want you to do that. I didn’t want to take the chance of you around me when I was… like that. And this isn’t much better. I’m still—” he recoils, retracting his arms from Roier, who nearly grabs for his hands at the loss of contact. “You deserve better than this, guapito; you deserve to be free, not stuck there on that fucking island, stuck with me— you’d be happier without me.”

“¿Qué?”

(Roier feels like someone just submerged him under icy water.)

“I thought you’d be happier without me. I didn’t think you could be happy around me like this. I still don’t— I—”

Cellbit is interrupted by a sudden hand against the back of his neck, pulling him forward as lips crash against his, and he’s nearly overwhelmed by all the emotions behind it, intertwining with his own.

But he kisses back immediately, melting right into it; of course he does. He knows he can talk all he wants about not wanting Roier to be around, but what he wants and what he needs are two separate things.

They're breathless when they pull apart, and Roier's hands settle on Cellbit's shoulders. “You’re an idiot, Cellbo, you know that? So brilliant, yet so stupid sometimes."

He breathes in, out, catching his breath and trying to gather the right words. “I spent so long looking for you. Hours and hours, every single day, trying to find some sign of you. Anything.

Why? Because I was fucking miserable, man! I felt like shit without you! I missed you, I missed you so much.” His voice falters slightly.

“But—”

“Pinche pendejo—” Roier hisses under his breath— “I don’t care what you think I deserve. I want you. Always. We stick together, no? Not because we're stuck and we have to, but because we want to, no?"

Cellbit nods slowly after a moment, remaining quiet. "Exactamente." The spider-hybrid reaches up, cradling his husband's face in his hands and catching a stray tear with the pad of his thumb. "I will always help you, no exceptions. Remember? Always here, for anything you may need."

The investigator falls into his arms, muttering tearful apologies, and they're right back to clutching each other tightly, securely.

(They're both crying, now. The tears stream freely, knowing they can be. Together.)

(It's not okay right now, but maybe in time, it will be.)

"Desculpa—" Cellbit chokes out— "te amo..."

They hold on tighter still. Roier's voice is muffled slightly, but Cellbit can make out the words as clear as day as the piece he's been desperately missing for weeks slides back into place.

"You and I against the world, gatinho."

And so it'll be.

[lightyaoigami]

If you have to choose your favorites 5 scene/dialogue in Those, what would it be?

amazing question. i will not be including 'my doctor doesn't even consider me a smoker' because that's everyone's favorite already.

one

"When I first saw you at the funeral, I thought you'd be the same. Yet another of The Lady's beautiful court jesters. It surprises me when I'm wrong." "I'm glad that I obliged." "You haven't obliged me with anything yet. This dinner doesn't count." "You're a fast worker but I'm faster. We could have skipped this shit, you know? There's no need for dinner and candlelight at our age. And, y'know, neither of us is wearing a dress." "I wanted to speak with you," he says thoughtfully, following it up with a more cheerful: "And get you out of your clothes, but that goes without saying." "We could have done both of those things at your place." "No, I'd like to understand you." Something about his personality has changed. He's much more softly spoken and pure sounding, which worries me. The dreamy quality of his voice makes me feel pensive and angry, so I reach forward suddenly and pour myself another glass of wine. "I don't want to be understood. To be understood would make me dead."

two

I remember once when, back in the day, I went to a party. It was house party but it was in a really big house. We had to wear masks, so it was one of those parties. I wore a skull mask; a white skull. L was an abstract crow or something. He saw me just as I saw him and we knew. Couldn't see each other's faces, but we knew. That was a good night. Anyway, he didn't know that I was going to be there and I didn't know that he was going, so we were strangers. Only we knew. Point is, if I wasn't there, he would have found someone else. Someone less.

three

"I don't know, but it looks very important from where I'm standing." "Stand somewhere else then." My consistent smile parts my lips when I take a few long steps towards him until we're only inches apart. Well, I can't really see his suit anymore, which is what he wanted. "Like, here?" I ask. His panic is practically another person between us and he drops his briefcase, so this tactic must have been perfectly balanced and executed. I congratulate myself as I kneel down to pick it up to deliver the killing stroke. "I'll get it," he says hurriedly. "It's no problem," I say, smiling up at him in my most winning way. This is a tried and tested method and he out of everyone was a complete sucker for it, always. I grab the handle of his case with one hand and hold onto his leg with the other. For support, obviously. When I stand again, I can almost see the gleam in my eye reflected in his face. While he's apparently unable to move, I lean forward and breathe in over his neck, but I don't touch him until my face is so close to his that our noses barely glance and slide off each other. He sucks in air when I lick his cheek lightly with the tip of my tongue. He's dying inside. His poor eyes can't lie. "You know, you really should be more careful," I tell him, and tilt my face slightly so my lips hovers over his in some worshipping adoration. He pants softly, swallows and his eyes grow heavy as he looks at me, but I won't do anything unless he gives me a sign. An almost silent "Oh fuck" catches in his throat as he stares at me, and I drop his suitcase to the floor again. Hallelujah.

four

"Light, I'm not going to say this again until the next time you leave your wife for me, because you'll get bored of it, but you're the best person I've ever met and I'm proud of you. Of what you've done, despite what I might have said in the past, because I'm a liar and I was lying before. And I love you." Oh. I'm more stunned by how he says it than what he actually says and I don't know what to say, so I stuff something that I hope is only a slimy, battered carrot into my mouth instead, and it's revolting. Once I've finished chewing, I talk down to my plate. "It's really hard to cut spring onions all slanty like." "It looks like a forty-five degree angle." "It is." "Well done."

five

So, picture the scene. I was on my way to the door wearing one of my less good suits. That doesn't matter, but I think that it expresses something about my state of mind and health. But I didn't make it as far as the door. I was overwhelmed by a sudden sickness, ran to the bathroom and threw up my guts into the toilet until my throat burned and I nearly passed out. It was like how people describe botulism, only worse. Those bastards don't know how I suffered. Anyway, Kiyomi found me dying on the bathroom floor, and I remember it in the same daze I experienced then. L wasn't in my mind at the time because all I could think of was trying to find some way to stop feeling as terrible as I did. My mind was empty like the rest of me was, so I just lay on my side and hoped that it would pass. Some unprecedented disaster had happened and I was powerless to do anything.

bonus from i know the way it ends

"Your face was almost golden because of the lights everywhere. Remember the gold coin neon lights over the casino? The lights made you look like you were gilded. I've only seen you look at me like you did then a few times, but you were beautiful, I thought my heart would burst, I… Palpitations from all the coffee, probably but… yeah."