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#it's something I've been thinking about for a few days now
joelscruff · 2 days
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is it that sweet? (joel miller x f!reader) 18+
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masterlist | a/n i've had no motivation to write lately but this randomly popped into my head the other day and suddenly my brain was like okay let's roll!! let's do this!! let's jump in!! so idk what that says about the current state of my subconscious. anyway this is filth! pls read the warnings! love u. summary: you probably shouldn't let some random middle aged man on the beach take nude photos of you, right? right? rating: 18+ explicit warnings: pervy!joel, age gap, voyeurism, coercion, objectification, sneaky picture taking, nude photos, paying for sexual favors, dirty talk, praise kink, pussy pronouns up the fuckin wazoo, oral (f receiving), nipple sucking, unprotected p in v sex, standing sex, creampie word count: 8.4k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics 🤍
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He's been watching you for about an hour. You'd sussed him out almost immediately after settling onto your beach towel and digging into your bag for your sunscreen, mildly aware of the shape of him in your peripheral vision. He's old, definitely in his late fifties, but certainly not the most unattractive man who could be eyeing you. You're used to it by now anyway, almost feed into the way men seem to gawk at you sometimes now that you've finally thrown caution to the wind and stopped giving a fuck about your beach body. You used to be self conscious about your curves, your tummy, your thighs - you decided this summer that it had to stop.
And you're glad you did. Because now he's staring at you, this unnamed, completely anonymous middle aged man only a few feet away. And it feels fucking good.
Should it feel good? Probably not. Should you tell him to buzz off and leave you alone? Take a picture, it'll last longer, something like that? Probably. But will you? No.
You like feeling his eyes on you.
Older men like you, you've noticed. They stare. They stare more than men your own age - boys, really. Twenty somethings who try to play it cool and more often than not come across as disinterested in their interest. They're cowardly, obnoxious. And you suppose some older ones are too, especially the ones with wives - they want you to be impressed by them, ooh and awe over their high paying jobs and big mansions, their fancy cars that they think make up for their tiny dicks.
But every now and then you'll come across one like this. You can read him like a book, peering at him from over your sunglasses every so often as he lounges behind a vibrant blue umbrella. His eyes caress your bare shoulders and chest, your exposed stomach, your soft thighs. They linger on the places they shouldn't and it makes you tingle. He's appreciating what he sees, basking in it, taking his time.
You could be content just lying here and letting him look. He is handsome after all, greying curls and soft scruff flecked with white, golden skin that almost glows underneath the sun. His legs stretch out over his own towel, long and lean and strong. He's got a soft looking belly, hanging out a little bit over his trunks, and now your eyes linger for a little longer than they should.
But you won't say anything. If he wants to talk to you, he has every opportunity to. You're not going anywhere for at least another hour, not until the sun starts setting and it's time to head back to your friend's vacation home. You've only been in California for a short period of time, but it's like it's somehow molded you into a different person - a more confident, sexier version of yourself that's been dying to get out for years. A version of you who lets this old man stare and get his fill as you smirk and turn over on your towel, arching your ass up into the air.
Oh, he likes that. You can tell because of the way his jaw clenches, neck tightening as his eyes fall to the globes of your cheeks. With a barely there smirk, you arch a little more, stretching and flexing and letting him take in the way your bikini bottoms barely contain them. Your breasts hang low onto your towel, practically overflowing from their own containment, and you have to admit - you're getting a little wet posing for him like this.
He licks his lips, eyes flickering downward again to something closer to him, something in his hand. You crane your neck a little bit to peer around the blue umbrella, and your breath hitches.
He's taking pictures of you.
It's obvious now, should have been obvious this whole time, really. Only one of his hands has really been visible, the other settled low against his side behind the umbrella. Now you can see that he's got his phone angled toward you, the camera peeking slyly out from behind the blue nylon as he repeatedly taps his screen with his thumb. To test him a little further, make sure you're really seeing what you think you're seeing, you push down into the sand with your hands and rise up a little bit on the towel, almost into a lazy downward facing dog. Your tits jiggle below you, threatening to escape, and out of the corner of your eye you watch as the man adjusts the camera to get a better angle. His thumb and forefinger glide across the screen, undeniably - and unashamedly - zooming in.
You're definitely wet now. You know you shouldn't be. You know this has probably gone too far and you should get up and leave, potentially tell someone about the creep on the beach taking photos of women in bikinis.
Instead, you make eye contact with him, settling back down onto your towel with your ass still perched a little in the air. He seems to freeze, eyebrows going up in the realization that he's been caught. In response, you blink slowly at him, pout a little bit as if to say, Really? You arch your back a little more and shimmy your hips, tilting your head as you continue to gaze over at him, eyes going a little hooded.
Come fuck me, you're almost saying, even though you know there's no way in hell you're gonna let him. It's just funny to watch him squirm, phone gripped tight in his hand as his adam's apple bobs in his throat. You arch a little more and then grind your hips into your towel, flattening yourself against it, holding his gaze. You rest your head and smile at him teasingly.
He's getting up and shuffling toward you in no time at all.
"Hi, darlin'," are the first words out of his mouth when he reaches you, and you certainly did not expect a Southern accent to fall from those plush lips. He's gorgeous really, now that you can see him up close - wide shoulders and big arms that strain against his white shirt, strong chest covered in little freckles, chocolate brown eyes that shimmer in the sunlight.
"Hi," you say with a smile, blinking up at him.
"I'm sure you saw what I was doin'," he seems a little embarrassed, voice apologetic as he scratches the back of his neck, "I know I shoulda asked, but you seemed so relaxed, I didn't wanna disturb you."
Bullshit, you only came over because I smiled at you. Any other reaction and you'd have run for the hills.
"I'm Joel," he reaches his hand down for you to take. For some reason, you shake it without hesitation. "I'm actually a photographer, believe it or not."
Huh. You raise an eyebrow at the words, doubt immediately swimming in your mind as you assess him.
"If you're a photographer, where's your camera?"
He chuckles, "Back at my hotel. I just came out here to relax, wasn't plannin' on takin' any photos. But then I saw you, and, well..." he smiles at you sheepishly, "You're just so pretty, darlin'. Never seen somebody like you before."
The words are not special. They're nothing you haven't already heard, nothing he hasn't probably already used on countless other women. And yet... you smile back at him, cheeks warming a little at the way the compliment sounds coming out of his mouth in particular, all Southern and sweet. "Thank you."
His eyes suddenly leave yours to flicker back toward your body again, scanning the length of you. As if on instinct, almost to show off, you tighten the muscles in your ass cheeks and then release, letting them jiggle a little bit under your swimsuit. He swallows tightly.
"Would you be interested in posin' for me, sweetheart? There's a little spot down the beach, outta sight. Still public though, of course. I wouldn't ask you to go anywhere unsafe," his eyes linger on your ass for a few more seconds before he's meeting your gaze again, soft and sincere, "I'd love to get some pictures of you in that bikini, and some with it off too, if you're comfortable with that."
Oh, he's fucking brave. You can feel disgust brewing in the pit of your stomach, a scowl beginning to dawn on your face. This is where you should draw the line. This is where you should get up and leave, tell him to go to hell, tell him he's a pervert and-
"I'll pay whatever you think is fair," he continues, "How's three hundred as a starting point?"
On second thought...
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"Beautiful, baby," he's telling you softly, "You're so pretty like that."
You hum in contentment, laying in the sand with a little smile tugging at your lips as Joel maneuvers around you with his phone, snapping pic after pic as you peer up at him through rays of sun. You're a little ways down the beach now, in a sparser area behind some rocks. He was right about it still being public - if something happened, you know you could raise your voice the tiniest bit and be heard immediately by people on the other side. Somehow though, despite his forwardness and slightly perverted habits, you trust that he isn't going to force anything on you.
You've already got three hundred dollars in your purse. He'd given it to you before you'd even gotten up from your initial spot on the beach, placed it in your hand with a grin as your eyes widened. You suppose you could've taken the money and run, but part of you wanted to play it out, test the limits, see what else he'd pay you for.
Which leads you here, laying sensually in the sand with the strings of your bikini dangling a little looser off your shoulders and hips, a little careless, a little more teasing. The poses so far have been pretty basic, and you've tried your best to emulate what you think a supermodel on the cover of Sports Illustrated would do. Based on Joel's responses - excited nods and gentle praises - you think you're doing a good job.
"Turn over now," he tells you with a playful grin, "Put that cute little ass in the air again for me."
It should be demeaning, the way he's talking to you. There's a lot about this situation that should be wrong, and yet you can't help but feel pride swell in your chest at his directions, his compliments. You do what he says, flipping over to dig your hands into the sand and arch your back, turning your head to eye the camera directly with a sultry little smile on your face.
"Perfect," he's murmuring, thumb tapping the screen like his life depends on it, "That's so perfect, honey." You listen to the fake little shutter sounds the phone makes, still wondering if he's even really a photographer. Would it even matter? Wouldn't you have still let him do this anyway?
With this new angle you can feel the loose strands of your bikini top starting to slip, unraveling at the back and trickling gently against your sides. You watch with what should be a worrying lack of urgency as it cascades down onto the sand below, leaving you topless.
He whistles low under his breath, "Well, would you look at that. The girls are out."
"That's an extra fifty," you say with a coy eyebrow raise, "Or else I cover them back up."
"Extra fifty, no problem" Joel echoes, "Can you shake your ass for me again, darlin'?"
You nod, tilting your head and peering back at him as you tighten and release your muscles with a giggle, basking in the way he stares at it, like it's a five course meal he's about to devour. You do it a few more times, arching your back a little more and spreading your thighs slightly to allow for more recoil, more jiggle. He makes an odd sound in the back of his throat and you grin.
"How much to take these off too?" he lowers the phone and peers at you with pleading eyes, brown and soft, "Huh? How much extra to show me this lil' peach, honey?"
You grimace, looking down at the sand and trying to calculate an appropriate cost in your brain. You bite your lip, "You know that's not the only thing that'll show."
"I know," he murmurs, eyes trailing downward again to eye your ass, still perched high and plump, "Your peach and your pussy then, how much?"
Fuck.
"I won't touch you," he promises softly, "You can just tug it down and show her to me, lemme see her up close, yeah?"
Her?
Her.
"Christ," you mumble under your breath. He's filthier than you thought, and not in a bad way - in a fucking hot way. "Another fifty," you decide, voice firm, "And... and I wanna see you put the money in my purse first. And no touching my... her."
"I can do that, sweetheart," he's already digging into his wallet and yanking out the money, opening your bag slightly to place it inside. It could be counterfeit for all you know; this whole thing really might be a completely worthless venture, and yet -
He watches as you reach backward to untie the strings of your bikini bottoms, doing it in one fell swoop and then spreading your thighs again, knees digging into the sand. You arch and press your face against your towel, feeling goosebumps rise all over your skin at the knowledge that he's staring at where you're now completely bare.
You hear him groan, a rough little sound that goes straight to your core, and a few little shutter sounds go off, "Now, that's a pretty little pussy you got there, baby."
Heat rises throughout your body, up through your chest and to your cheeks. You turn a little to look at him shyly, lashes fluttering when you see where his gaze has settled.
"Yeah?"
"Oh, honey, she's so pretty," he breathes, "She's all wet. Leakin' for me, you see that?"
You can't see it of course, but you can feel it; feel the way you're dripping, knowing that he can see it, has a 1:1 view of the way you throb and drool for him. This random old man who about twenty minutes ago you'd never spoken to in your life.
"And your little clit is sayin' hi to me too, babygirl, can see her pokin' out." Fuck. You squirm a little in place as his camera continues to go off, legs spreading a little more unconsciously as you tilt your head downwards and close your eyes. Your clit twitches under his stare.
"Swollen little thing," he breathes, barely loud enough to hear, "Perfect pussy."
Jesus Christ.
"Roll over for me again, sweetheart," you hear him say quietly, "Show me all those pretty parts."
You don't know why, but you whine a little at his words. It's subconscious, a burning desire you can't describe as you slowly flip over and lazily lay back on your towel to show him your entire naked body. He stands over you with his brow furrowed in a gentle kind of way, eyes appraising you up and down like you're some kind of goddess. And fuck, he's kind of making you feel like one.
"Legs open a little bit, baby, that's it." You obey, spreading your legs and looking up at him with lidded eyes, lips parting a little. You bring your arms up to rest behind your head and he takes note of the way your tits bounce for him, shivering back and forth beneath his gaze. "You're perfect," he murmurs, "You're absolutely perfect."
"Stop," you say, unable to stop a grin from spreading across your face, "M'not perfect."
"But you are, darlin'," he shakes his head, eyes full of wonder as he kneels down to get some closer pictures. You watch as he brings his phone down directly in front of your pussy, snaps a few close-ups of your puffy lips and swollen clit. "I'd love to kiss her, honey, if you'd let me."
"N-no," you say quickly, though your voice cracks, "No touching."
"I'll pay you extra," his eyes return to yours, locking your gazes, "You name it, baby. I'll pay anything to taste how sweet you are down here."
You look at him calculatingly, tilting your head. Anything?
"Two hundred," you practically whisper, "In the bag."
You're half expecting him to tell you that he's run out of money, that he couldn't possibly give you any more than the four hundred he's already blown on this. But he surprises you, reaching back into his pocket to grab his wallet and tug out the bills. It's like he has an endless supply, and you're beginning to wonder if maybe this is a hobby of his, something he prepares for, carries money around to be ready to spend on women like you. Maybe he's rich rich, has unlimited money to throw away, and this is just his weird perverted thing he does on the side of something else.
Maybe you should have asked for more.
But he's already kneeling back down into the sand and you're already opening your legs wider for him, allowing him to settle between them and lean his head forward to place his lips gently against your pussy. You watch with heavy lids as he kisses you so softly there, his mouth tender and inviting and deliciously scratchy from his scruff. Without really thinking about it, you reach down and run a hand through his curls, smiling a little fondly as he kisses you again, and again, and again.
"That feels nice," you breathe, watching as he continues to press incredibly slow and gentle kisses to your cunt in an almost respectful way, a reverent way.
"Good," he murmurs, lips vibrating against your core, "Want it to feel nice for you, baby."
You let out a soft moan the second his tongue breaches your folds, wet and warm. You watch as he closes his eyes and seems to get lost in it, tasting your pussy like it - or she, as he'd said - is some rare delicacy he's never indulged in before. He trails the tip of his tongue through the mess you've made, maneuvering your puffy lips and flicking it against your clit. Your hips buck and another moan slips out, quiet and pitiful.
"That's it," he murmurs against you with a little half smile, "So sweet for me, honey." He dives back in immediately and slowly plunges his tongue inside your entrance, fucking into you a few times before carefully pulling back and opening his eyes to peer up at you again. God, those brown eyes are fucking sinful. He gives you one more smile and then reaches down to grab his phone.
"Gonna get some more pics of this messy girl, okay?" he breathes, and you're a little startled when his left hand is suddenly coming down to touch you there, two fingers carefully scissoring you open. You don't say anything, too horny to protest, too intrigued to see what he's going to do. "Gotta open her up a little," he tells you softly, answering your unspoken question, "Wanna take a little peek at what she's hidin' inside her, baby."
A little whimper falls from your throat again as his fingers scissor you wider, holding you open and baring your hole to his camera. You can feel your walls twitching and pulsing, contracting and leaking; you can only imagine what it looks like. Your eyes roll a little when his middle finger taps your clit, another gush of arousal flooding past your opening.
"Look at this lil' hole, huh?" he's murmuring, but your eyes are closing and your head is falling back onto the towel as he plays with you, "Oh, she's alllll messy for me down here, baby. And it's no wonder your clit came out to see me, she loves gettin' played with, don't she?"
Christ, he knows how to talk. His words send another helpless little sound past your lips, thighs trembling as he slowly caresses your clit with his finger, pressing down on it with just the right amount of pressure.
"Aw, you're all sticky here again, baby," he whispers and you whine, feeling your juices dribble down toward your ass, "Shh, I'll take care of it," and then he's leaning back in to lap at your folds, a little faster this time, more desperate, "Tastes so good, pretty girl. So sweet."
He suckles your clit into his mouth and you let out a breathless moan, brow furrowing as he suctions the swollen nub and lets one of his fingers fall to slip inside your entrance. You're so close you can feel it, coiled inside and ready to snap at any moment, his thick index plugging you deliciously as his tongue swirls. You tighten around it, thighs squeezing a little around his head, and then-
He's pulling away, removing his mouth and finger. Your eyes flutter open and you watch as he stands up with a little groan, older age apparent in the way he clutches at his back and exhales once he's upright. You want to tell him to get back down here, finish what he started, but part of you feels like it'd almost be letting him win, somehow. This perverted creep on a public beach that's somehow managed to lure you away and get you naked, take photos of your body and eat your pussy. He doesn't deserve to have you beg for him - even if you want to.
"Can you stand up for me now, honey?" he tilts his head, squinting against the sun and smiling like he didn't just ruin your orgasm.
On shaky legs, you manage to pull yourself up from the sand and stand before him in all your naked glory, legs crossing a little as you squeeze your thighs together. He smirks but doesn't say anything about it, instead angling his phone toward you again and snapping some full length photos. You immediately do your best to go back into Sports Illustrated mode, posing a little and trying to ignore the ache between your legs, the relentless throb of where his mouth just was.
"Squeeze your tits together for me," he tells you, voice a bit deeper, rougher, full of arousal, "Cup 'em a little, show me those cute lil' nipples."
You do as he says, biting your lip and showing the camera exactly what he wants to see. Your nipples are peaked and hard, begging to be teased and tugged, but you refuse to do it yourself - you're not giving him the satisfaction, not after what he just pulled. He takes a few up-close pictures, camera so close to them that you shiver with sensitivity, the smallest bit of air from his movements causing them to tighten even more.
"Those are so beautiful, baby," he murmurs softly, gaze trailing upwards to meet yours, "Can I give 'em a kiss too?" God, his eyes are so fucking soft and sincere, like fucking boba pearls. You wonder if anyone's ever been able to say no to him.
You swallow, keeping eye contact, "For another fifty, sure."
He chuckles at that, "You drive a hard bargain, darlin'."
"I know what I'm worth."
He smiles, nodding slowly, "That, you do." He pulls out his wallet and slips another bill into your bag, then shuffles toward you again. You try to keep your breathing calm when one of his hands comes up to cradle your bare back, pulls you in a little bit as he lowers his mouth to your right nipple. With hazy eyes, you watch as he presses the softest little kiss to it, then does the same to the left.
Part of you wants to pull back and say that's it, that's all you get, just to see what he does, give him a taste of his own medicine. But then he's wrapping his lips around the pebbled bud and suckling, your eyes going glassy, jaw dropping a little as your hands come up to hold his shoulders. Your pussy throbs at the sensation, thighs rubbing together again as he suctions just the right amount and swirls his tongue all over the hard peak. It's impossible not to let a quiet moan fall past your lips, something he returns with a little mmhmm around your nipple, a wordless I know.
It feels so good that you feel your guard going down even more than it already has, feel your head falling forward to rest against his. His greying hair is so soft, so warm from the sun. You blink slowly and inhale, cheek smooshing into his temple as he sucks and sucks and sucks, then turns his attention to the other one. Little whimpers are tumbling past your lips, your hands squeezing and caressing his shoulders as you feel yourself starting to drip down your inner thighs.
It's so fucking intimate, much more intimate than you anticipated. And when he finally pulls away and comes back up to peer into your eyes again, leaving your nipples puffy and a little sore, you betray yourself by leaning forward to kiss him softly, tugging his bottom lip into your mouth and returning the favor with a little suckle. You feel him smile against you, the hand on your back tightening as he brings his other one up to tangle in your hair. His lips are plush and wet - a little chapped from what he's just done to your nipples - and he tastes like pussy.
It's fucking heavenly.
"I wanna show you somethin', babygirl," he murmurs against you after a moment, and you nod a little too quickly, a little pathetically. You're starting to realize that you're losing the battle here, if there ever even was one.
He pulls back a little, eyes still soft. You watch as he reaches down to his swim trunks and unties them, heart suddenly in your throat as he slips his hand inside and comes out with an absolutely beautiful dick. It's long and thick, rounded and full at the tip with an extremely suckable looking mushroom head, as well as a prominent vein trailing up his shaft that makes your mouth water. You both stare at it for a few seconds without speaking, your lips parting but no words coming to mind.
"You wanna take some pictures with my cock, honey?" he asks you quietly, and you think he's probably looking at your face now, watching your expression, but you're still just staring at his dick.
"W-what?"
"Just a few, like...well..." he shuffles forward a bit and very gently presses the warmth of his cock against your bare stomach, letting the tip sit just above your belly button, "Like this."
Your brain is blank.
"That okay?"
His cock is so heavy.
"Darlin'?"
And warm.
He pushes some of your hair behind your ear, cradles your face in his big hand, "I know, honey," he murmurs, "You just gotta say okay."
Okay?
"O-okay," you finally whisper.
"Yeah?"
Yeah. You think it but don't say it, can't say it. You feel beyond overwhelmed, eyes still glued to where his throbbing tip is smooshed into your belly. You can't stop looking at it, ogling it, awed by its impressiveness and girth, the way it leaks a little onto your skin. You've never seen a dick this pretty before. You almost forget that you're standing there without any clothes on, barely aware of the shutter sound as he snaps multiple pictures on his phone.
"Good girl," he murmurs softly, "That's a good girl, just look at it."
Every few seconds he repositions a little, pulling you in closer to capture the way his cock stands at attention between your bodies. Precum gurgles from the tip and makes a sticky mess in his happy trail, dribbling down onto your skin. Without thinking about it at all, completely unaware of even doing it, your arms are suddenly around his waist, holding him close with your gaze still locked onto his cock.
"Yeah, that's for you, baby," he tells you softly, grinding his hips a little bit against yours and essentially fucking his cock against your stomach, "You did that to me."
It's only when he suddenly takes a small step back, holds the base and angles it downward to gently prod the sticky head against your pussy lips, that you finally come to your senses.
"Wait," you gasp out, yanking yourself back from him and shaking your head, "W-wait a second."
"M'sorry," he says quickly, brow furrowing as he puts his hands up. His cock hangs from his trunks almost comically, bobbing up and down as he takes a step back, "Shoulda asked first."
"Y-yeah, you should've," your voice cracks, heat flooding your face, "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me just then, that was too far." Why the fuck are you apologizing to him?
"S'not too far," his words are gentle, alluring, "We're just havin' fun, aren't we honey? You were havin' fun, got lost in it. It's okay."
You take a breath, staring at him as you try to get your bearings. Were you having fun? Is this fun? What the fuck are you even doing right now? Your thoughts are cloudy, hazed with arousal and attraction to this complete stranger in front of you. Are you really gonna let this continue? Is it really worth it? Your gaze falls back to his cock and the question is almost answered for you.
"What am I doing?" you ask aloud, a breathless little laugh escaping your lips.
"You're just havin' fun with a new friend, s'all it is."
You raise an eyebrow at him, trying to ignore the way your hands tremble, "Is that what you are? My friend?"
"I'll be anything you want me to be, darlin'," his mouth turns up at the corners, eyes sparkling, "I sure would like to be your friend."
He peers at you for a moment, waiting for you to speak. Your mouth opens a few times but no words come out, your thoughts scrambled as you try to make heads or tails of this situation. You're suddenly painfully aware of the fact that you're still completely naked, and you quickly peek your head over the rock formation to make sure there's nobody nearby - there isn't.
Why are you checking?
"C'mere," Joel finally says, and you turn back to look at him with your lip between your teeth. He's standing there with his arms open a bit, cock still heavy between his legs. By all accounts, a fucking perv. And yet...
And yet.
Fuck it.
You're back in his embrace in no time, hooking your head over his shoulder and allowing his cock to press warmly into your skin again. You close your eyes and sigh as he brings one of his hands downward to squeeze your ass.
You know what he's going to ask before he even says it.
"Can I put it inside you, darlin'?" he murmurs softly, pleadingly, "Just to get a pic of your pussy all full?"
You don't say anything.
"Won't take more than a minute," he urges, "I promise, baby. Just wanna see it stretched around my cock. Don't you wanna see that, pretty girl? I'll pay extra, whatever you want."
More silence.
"I know you wanna see it," he's relentless, his other hand coming down to squeeze your other cheek and pull you impossibly closer, "You wanna feel that, don't you, baby? Big cock fillin' you up before you go?" His middle finger slides between your cheeks and settles at your pussy, slowly teasing your entrance, "Don't gotta do anything at all, just gotta stand here, we'll do it standin' honey."
"Standing?" you ask softly, pulling back to look at him with intrigue, and your response suddenly has him grinning from ear to ear as he slowly inserts his finger. You shiver, eyes fluttering closed as he fills you with it.
"Standin'," he repeats, "Just like this, baby, don't gotta do anything 'cept open your legs a little for me. You can do that, can't you?" The hand on your ass comes up to hold your chin; he pinches it gently between his finger and thumb and gives you another soft look as he starts to fuck you in earnest, "I know you can, 'cause you're a good girl, yeah?"
"Y-yeah," you breathe, arms tightening around his body.
"Yeah," he adds a second finger, smile faltering into a sympathetic pout when you let out another soft moan, "And you want that cock, don't you? I can see it all over your face, honey. Don't gotta pretend."
"I do," you whisper with a nod, swallowing thickly and trembling in his arms, "I want it, I do."
"So..." he's waiting for you to say the words, to tell him to go ahead and put it in, do what he wants, let him take control. His fingers are relentless inside of you now, plunging in and out at a speed you know he's purposely using to distract you, cloud your decision making.
Which is why his eyebrows go up in surprise when you're suddenly reaching down to grab tightly to his wrist, yanking his fingers out of your pussy in one swift pull.
"Three hundred," you state, "Take it or leave it."
To your surprise, his face alights with a gigantic smile, a deep laugh tumbling past his lips as he nods and digs his hand into his pocket, seeking his wallet one more time, "Yes, m'aam," he grins, "I'll take it."
You've never had sex standing up before. Not like this, face to face and completely upright with your feet planted on the ground. It's a little awkward at first, Joel having to crouch a little to align his hips with yours, one hand gripping your waist while the other grips his phone. God, this fucking phone. You're pretty sure you'll never wanna see a phone case with this ugly shade of cerulean blue again, let alone hear those obnoxious shutter sounds.
Your annoyance is quickly overpowered by the sensation of the warm head of Joel's cock pressing gently to your pussy. You look down to watch, lip between your teeth again as Joel snaps image after image of the way his tip crowds your outer lips, pushes them apart. You have to admit, it's certainly a sight to behold.
"Yeah, look at her open for me, baby," he's murmuring, thumbing the base as he slowly rubs his cockhead back and forth through your folds, "Bloomin' like a little flower."
The top of your head rests against his shoulder, face angled down to watch what he's doing. A tiny whimper falls from your lips when he very slowly eases the head of his cock inside of you, the stretch barely noticeable with how wet you are. He releases your hip to reach down and open your pussy lips with his thumb and forefinger, exposing where you're joined.
"Tell her to smile for the camera, babygirl," he whispers, and while part of you wants to roll your eyes, another part can't help but feel a gush of arousal at his words, soaking his cock even more, "Good, that's good."
He feeds his cock to you slowly, making sure to take as many pictures as he can. Little whines and squeaks erupt from your throat and your hands claw at his back, fingers tangling in the white crocheted material as he fills you up. It's only when he's fully sheathed inside of you that he suddenly tugs his trunks down a little more to expose his balls, heavy and round and full. You stare at them with a longing in your eyes you can't describe, lower lip trembling as you watch them bounce and settle against where you're joined.
"There you go," he murmurs, snapping one last picture before tossing his phone into the sand and bringing his hands up to cradle your back, pulling you close, "All done, baby, that's it."
Your toes curl in the sand as you embrace the feeling of being so full of him, his tip pulsing delicately inside the deepest parts of you. A distant thought in your brain wonders why he just threw his phone on the ground, but it doesn't seem to matter when you feel like this, so full and wet and warm, lost in a hazy glow. You bury your face in his shoulder, letting out quiet little whimpers as he pulls you in tighter. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, seemingly reveling in the moment too as you stand there listening to the ocean waves, impaled on a stranger's cock.
"How's that feel, honey?" he asks you softly, thumbs tracing shapes along your bare back, "Hm? Feel good?" You don't answer, just nuzzle your face against his skin and let out another soft whine, hands clamoring underneath his shirt to grip his back. He chuckles, "Yeah, I know, baby."
You both stand there for what feels like forever, until you finally have enough sense to pull away from his shoulder and get a look at his face. He's watching you fondly, brow furrowed, eyes still incredibly soft and inviting. He really is gorgeous. Pervy, but gorgeous.
"You dropped your phone," you mumble, words faint and slightly slurred.
"Don't need it anymore," he murmurs, "Got my pictures."
"Then why are you still inside me?" you ask softly, eyelashes fluttering, "If you're done?"
He shrugs, smiling, "'Cause it feels good, don't it?"
You stare at him for a few seconds but end up nodding regardless, turning your face a little to peer over at the ocean, "It does," you admit, "Feels really good."
"Mmhmm," he kisses the top of your head again, then your temple, stroking his fingers through your hair. The way he touches you is reverent, delicate, like you're something fragile he needs to keep safe. It's not what you'd expected, that's for sure. But something you're not as sure about is what happens now, where you both go from here.
It doesn't take long for him to decide.
You feel his thumb on your clit, drawing your attention away from the ocean and back to his presence. You peer at him through bleary eyes, a dazed little smile curving your lips as he carefully rotates the swollen nub. His belly caresses yours, warm and soft, and you smile even wider.
"Feel good?" he asks you again - tender, kind.
"Yeah," you whisper.
The hand on your back comes up to cradle your hair, pulling you in close again and allowing you to rest your head against his smooth chest. You moan as his thumb picks up speed, the sound muffled by his tan skin.
"You want me to make you come, honey?" he murmurs, fingers brushing carefully through your hair, "You wanna come all over that big cock inside you?"
"Yeah," you repeat, a little broken this time, "W-wanna come."
"You've been so fuckin' good for me, you know that?" he breathes, barely a whisper, brow furrowed as he continues to rub your clit, "Posin' all pretty, showin' me that soft little pussy, lettin' me taste her," he gives a low whistle, shaking his head, "And now she's all full, huh? She full?"
You nod, eyes rolling a little, "Y-yeah." Apparently yeah is currently one of the only words in your vocabulary.
"She all messy for me?"
Again, you nod, expression blissful as you let out a moan, "Yes, Joel," you whimper, and you're pretty sure it's the first time you've said his name this whole time. It's like you've been trying to be disconnected from it, from him, and now suddenly he's everywhere; inside you, in front of you, above you - there's no escaping him. And you don't want to escape - what you want is him. Badly. Desperately.
He seems to realize this at the exact same time you do, the moment he hears his name fall from your lips. Which is why you're not surprised in the slightest by his next words.
"What if I wanted a pic of my cum leakin' outta this little pussy?" he whispers, mouth suddenly directly next to your ear, sending insane amounts of pleasurable tingles throughout your whole body, "Huh? How much would that cost? Tell me."
"You can't," you mumble, lightheaded, but you're lying to yourself, completely lost in the pleasure he's giving you, the movement of his thumb and the girth of his cock.
"Only take a few seconds, honey, m'already close," as he speaks, you feel his hips slowly begin to buck, cock pulling from you for only a moment before easing back in, making you shudder, "You don't gotta do nothin', 'cept show me how she drools when she's full. You can do that, can't you baby?"
"Joel," you whine again, eyes shut tight as you dig your toes into the sand, holding tight to his back as he slowly starts to fuck up into you. He's so big, so thick, plugging you full and then leaving you again, slow and warm. You can only imagine how it would feel to have him burst inside of you, to fill you to the brim.
"I wanna see her drool, honey," he murmurs, voice desperate again, full of arousal, "Wanna see her push it out."
"Fuck," you moan, high and whiney as you suddenly grip both sides of his face in your hands to peer directly into his eyes, "A thousand," you whimper, your hands clawing at his scruff as his hips pick up speed, as his hands fall to your waist and hold tightly as he starts to pound up into you, "A thousand and you can come in my pussy."
He presses his forehead against yours, lets out a guttural sound and then hisses, "Deal."
And for some reason, you believe him.
Getting pounded while standing upright is a fucking trip. His nails dig into the pebbled flesh of your hips, knees bending and unbending as his cock fucks up into you relentlessly without stopping or slowing. Your hands are still holding his face, eyes locked with his as your mouth pops open in a silent scream, thumbs digging into the apples of his cheeks. Holy fucking shit.
"I know, I know, I know," he's groaning, voice wild and unhinged, groans vibrating in his chest, "Fuckin' take it, s'what you were made for, honey. Knew it the second I saw you, knew you were gonna go wild on that dick."
"Please," you moan out, tears pricking in your eyes, the sensations almost too much to bear, "Please, please." You don't even know what you're begging for, thoughts muddled as you release his face and wind your arms around his neck, "Keep fucking me, keep fucking me, don't stop, please."
"I got you, honey, I got you," you feel his thumb return to your clit as he speaks, the sounds of your skin slapping together almost rivalling the sound of the ocean waves, "You gonna come, pretty girl? Huh? You gonna cream on my cock?"
"Yes," you practically squeal, and before you can really process what you're doing you're suddenly jumping up from the sand to wrap your legs around Joel's waist, ankles tangling together behind his back. He has no issue shifting positions, his arm cradling you and holding you in the air while his thumb continues to ravage your clit. You feel it building in your stomach, tightening more and more with the insistent pressure of his thumb and the continuous thrusts of his dick hitting your cervix over and over.
"Ohh, I feel her, baby," he groans in your ear, "Sloppy little cunt wants to make another mess, doesn't she?" And that's all it takes for your orgasm to hit you, your legs squeezing tighter and tighter and tighter around Joel's body as you moan and whine and cry, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and shaking in his arms. It's like having the wind knocked out of you, arguably one of the best orgasms you've ever had in your life, your eyes rolling back into your head as you sob into his neck.
"Joel," you whimper, pussy pulsing repeatedly around his dick through the aftershocks, "Joel, come inside her, please."
"Oh, fuck."
You feel it then, the twitch of his cock and the warm ropes of his release pumping into you. You sigh almost dreamily, burying your face in his shoulder and listening as he groans, feeling the way his fingertips dig into the soft plush of your ass. It's steady - there's so much more than you thought there'd be, and the sensation is enough to make you whimper again, murmuring his name one more time as he empties himself.
You stay like that for a moment, the ocean loud in your ears, all other sounds seemingly drowned out by the hiss of sea against rock and sand. Eventually, he carries you a few steps to your towel, your ears ringing and his body trembling a little as he carefully lowers you down. You let go of him a bit reluctantly, a pout on your lips as he lays you out and then slowly pulls himself from you with a wet squelch.
"Good girl," he's murmuring - you realize he's been saying it the whole time - "Good girl, that's it, open your legs."
There's no hesitance at all anymore, not after that. You open your legs wide with abandon and sit up on your hands, watching with heavy lids as he grabs his phone from where he'd discarded it, bringing it down to your leaking pussy.
"Look at that," he breathes, awestruck, and your eyes trail downward to see what he sees. You feel heat return to your cheeks when you see the way his creamy white release is slowly beginning to dribble out of you and onto the towel.
"Wow, that's a lot," you whisper with a faint little giggle, eyes coming back up to look at his face as he watches it drip. You're not sure he hears you, intensely focused on where you're swollen and leaking, but you don't mind. You push back lazily on your hands and smile fondly at him as he takes his precious photos. In the afterglow, you find that the shutter sounds aren't that annoying, not really.
"Open her up for me, baby," he tells you softly, "Spread her wide and push it out."
You sit up a little, feeling drowsy and dreamy as you reach down and pull yourself open with your hands. You apply a little pressure, closing your eyes in a daze and hearing the wet little sounds as you push his cum out of you and onto the towel. You hear him groan, hear the shutter sounds again, and you can't help but grin.
"Are they good?" you ask him, genuinely wondering, "Is she pretty?" As you speak you pull yourself a little wider, allow him to take one more picture as close inside as possible before he pulls it away.
He looks up from his handiwork with that familiar soft smile on his face again, brown eyes shimmering in the sun that's already beginning to set, "You're perfect," he tells you, "And don't argue with me, I just gave you almost two thousand dollars."
You snort, releasing yourself and falling backwards onto the towel to stare up at the sky. Your limbs feel heavy, eyelids drooping as you watch Joel in your periphery slipping his soft cock back into his trunks, as well as his phone.
"It's real money, right?" you ask, a little unsure.
"I promise it's real money," he says with a chuckle, walking over to stand over you, "D'you wanna come back to my hotel with me and get cleaned up? Maybe have some more fun?"
You bite your lip, "Would you pay me?"
"I'd pay you."
Admittedly, as reality begins to wash over you, the idea doesn't sound anywhere near as appealing as it might have an hour ago. With a little effort, you sit up again and reach for your bikini, half buried in the sand near your feet.
"Nah, I think I'm good."
Joel reaches his arm down and you take it, letting him help you to your feet. As you put your bikini back on, you watch with a little smile as he digs the rest of your money out of his wallet, slipping it into your purse like it's just second nature at this point - which, it basically is. He stands there then, a little awkwardly, like he's not sure what to say.
"Well, uh, thank you, darlin'," he finally says, taking a step back and nodding toward you with a kind expression, "Not many girls would have, um... not many would've done this. I'd offer you my number, but I get the feeling that's not what this is."
You wince, shaking your head, "Yeah, this, uh- this isn't gonna go anywhere, sorry. But it was fun."
He nods, "It was. And, I mean, those pictures aren't just gonna collect dust, I can tell you that much."
You laugh, walking forward a little to pick up your bag. You stop in front of him and, after hesitating for only a moment, lean forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. Just a peck - a goodbye.
"Have a good rest of your summer," you tell him as you pull away, heat rising in your cheeks again as he looks at you with those beautiful eyes, "And uh- maybe try to be a little more covert with that camera."
This time it's his turn to blush, his cheeks tinging a dark shade of pink as he laughs and tosses you a wave, turning to begin walking away from you. He only makes it a few steps, and then-
"Hey, Joel?"
He turns on the spot, a hopeful look in his expression that makes you wonder, if only for a moment, that maybe you're making the wrong choice.
"You're not really a photographer, are you?"
His blush deepens, a look of embarrassment crossing his features, "No, I'm not. But after today, I just might try my hand at it."
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sinsirellaxx · 2 days
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toxic!obsessed!boys who finalky get to fuck you,the girl of their dreams but only last a few seconds?joe goldberg inspired!!
Slytherin Boys – They come too quickly
Warning: (Not so) toxic boys! Not proofread!
A/N: Sorry – I've been busy and absolutely did not have the time or energy to write. I've also been sick (still am), so so sorry again!
Mattheo …
… would be horribly ashamed – completely devastated.
… froze the second his orgasm washed over him – unable to enjoy it as he felt his dick grow embarrassingly soft. He had failed you.
… wouldn’t know how to recover from that – his ego is wounded.
… if you burst out laughing (honestly you had expected so much more from him) he’d get angry really fast. He’d probably fault you for his shortcoming before pushing himself away from you.
… would melt into your arms if you tried reassuring him – he’d slowly kiss his way down after his now flaccid dick slipped out of you – promising to make you feel great in a different way. At least until he was ready to go again.
Theodore …
… tries to ignore it. He would bite back any sound and continue thrusting into you, his hands fisting the sheets as he desperately hoped to stay hard. But alas – his dick fails him.
… groans loudly, the sound muffled as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, biting into your shoulder as his big hands squeeze your hips roughly.
… teasingly tells you that it was because you were just too hot – he couldn’t handle it.
Lorenzo …
… is pissed because it is over too soon.
… is scared that you will never want to sleep with him again.
… wants to hide it at first as well – but the way his cock throbs inside of you followed by his spent leaking out – there was simply no way he could hide it.
… groans loudly as he pulls out and hides his face in your chest.
… will ask you to give him a minute – he’ll have to make you forget about it – which means he’ll have to entertain you the whole night.
Draco …
… is utterly humiliated – like wth? And to top it off he made a pathetic sound as he came.
… would probably rush out – it doesn’t matter if it happened in his own dorm room – he’ll leave. He has toleave. His ego is deeply wounded.
… will disappear for days.
… will refuse to talk about it and pretend like nothing happened after a few days.
Blaise …
… would be the most chill about it.
… would just whisper something along the lines of “The things you do to me, babe.” Instead of thinking of it as an embarrassment he’ll use it to emphasize how in love he is with you.
… would chuckle lowly as he pressed a kiss against your temple – promising that he would last longer the next time.
Tom …
… is angry. Mad. Livid. Embarrassed.
… would 100 % obliviate you to erase it from your memory without batting an eyelash.
… would then start again after calming down and pretend that the mishap never happened.
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AITA for "using" a cucumber and putting it back in the fridge?
(🥒👌 to find later)
Please, I know it sounds nuts but hear me out. I feel awful and I need to know just how bad this is. Also, I intentionally left as much as possible vague as I am a minor and I do not want this to get removed for being too explicit. But the story will not make sense if I don't include certain things, please understand.
So I (16M) grew up in and currently still live in the bible belt, with extremely conservative evangelical parents. As a taste of what it's like, we have church 3 times a week, and church camp every summer. We are only allowed to access Netflix through a stupid content filter app and we can only use a restricted smart phone that is regularly checked at random by our parents. We get an hour and a half of computer usage every other day, and the internet on the computer is heavily filtered also. The only reason I have access to Tumblr and am able to post this now is because my best friend's older brother gave me his old android for my birthday a few years ago. His family is much more open minded, and I'm very close with them. I also think they have always felt a little bad for me with my family being the way they are.
I'm also gay. Obviously, my family does not know, and I intend to keep it that way. I won't go too deep into it, but it will suffice to say I struggled a lot when I was younger over this. The good thing is that in the last few years, I've been able to accept myself more and come to terms with what my own feelings about religion and faith really are. I came out to my best friend and his brother a little over a year ago, and they've been very supportive. I have yet to tell any of my other friends.
Recently, I've been trying out alcohol since my friends found a hookup. Something I have discovered is that I tend to get lewd feelings when I drink, which has nearly caused a few embarrassing moments around friends. Coincidentally, I have also been experimenting with... certain things. Being a minor, I obviously can't enter any of the adult stores around me, nor would I feel comfortable asking any of my friends to drive me there if I could. I also can't order anything online because my bank account is connected to my parents, and I don't have a shipping address I'm comfortable using for those items either. So instead, I use household objects that belong to me and can be sanitized easily. You might see where this is going.
Yesterday evening, I came home from best friend's house with a full bottle of wine in my backpack. We and a few other friends had already been sipping on a few beers that afternoon, and I still felt a little buzzed. After my family went to sleep, despite already having a little alcohol in my system, I proceeded to get wasted on this bottle of wine in my room. I don't have the clearest memory of all of this, but at some point, I got hungry and lewd-feeling. Went into the kitchen and, through some kind of thought process I can only imagine now, came back into my room with a cucumber. From the title of the post, you can hazard a guess as to what happened to this cucumber. Once I was done, I drukedly and quickly washed it in the bathroom sink and threw it back into the fridge. I went to sleep.
I started freaking out as soon as I woke up this morning. There were four cucumbers in the fridge, I was pretty positive at least two were going to be used for dinner tonight, and I had no idea which cucumber I did the deed with. To make matters worse, my mom was inviting the pastor of our church and his family over for dinner. I have practically no money currently, no license or vehicle, and no friends with vehicles free to pick up new cucumbers for me (and no reasonable explanation as to why I needed them to spot me for four cucumbers specifically). I also have no believable reason to give for why we shouldn't have cucumbers added in the salad mix. My mom knows I love them, and they haven't gone bad. Can't say I ate them because who the hell eats four raw cucumbers? And she'll interrogate both my brother and I until she gets a satisfying answer if I just throw them out. I didn't know what the hell to do about this and I was close to having a panic attack, so... I took a nap.
Evening came. Guests came over, dinner happened. We had porkchops with macaroni and side salads. Cucumbers were in the salad, and I along with pastor's family and my own, ate it like nothing was wrong. My parents, the pastor and his wife had an engaging conversation about politics, religion, and some mild church gossip after dinner. My little brother continued to read his book, and I had a very awkward and one-sided conversation about Young Sheldon with the pastor's daughter. Then they left. And I went to my room to mentally implode.
To say I'm horrified is a major understatement. I don't think anyone is going to get sick because I scrubbed all of the cucumbers with soap multiple times and cleaned the vegetable drawer with bleach when I woke up this morning. I guess I also don't know that the violated cucumber was one of the ones that was used for dinner tonight, but then it's only a matter of days until we have salad again, or if mom cuts one up for water. I've rattled my brain for any way I could get some new cucumbers without telling anyone the details of the event, but I have nothing. Don't even have the money, anyway. Gave up the last bit of cash I had for the damn wine yesterday, and I have $0.43 in total on my debit card.
Admittedly, there is a very small part of me that doesn't even really care if they have eaten or end up eating the damn thing. I can't stand my family. My parents are invasive, controlling and neurotic, and don't give a shit about how I'm doing in so far as it pertains to god and the church. I'm a little more sympathetic to my brother as he's been stuck in this hell with me, but at 13 he's already begun to regurgitate way more religious dogma than I ever did at his age. And I know for a fact that they would want nothing to do with me if they found out I was gay. They'd probably kick me out on the street and spit on me if I had to guess. But even still, this is only a small part of how I feel. What I did was still so gross, and no amount of animosity I have for them can change how mortifed I am. I do have at least a semblance of a conscience.
So...AITA for all of this? WIBTA if I did nothing about the other two cucumbers? Please help.
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nanaarchy · 2 days
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Hey chat !!!! I'm going insane.
Ever since my first listen to TMA, I've had a huge question that NEVER got answered.
Never. Not in the whole series, not Q&As or the wiki or anything. I thought I would never find answers. I thought it would be forgotten. I thought it was a small insignificant detail and I'd have to live with never knowing the truth about it.
Now with TMAGP 19, I might finally know the answer.
Maybe. Maybe maybe. But It Could Be. And now I'm losing my mind at the implications.
((For the record, I know that the stories and worldbuilding are inherently separate - hell, there are even timeline differences in the cases I'm using as evidence. But the overlap might be important, especially when it comes to the Web.))
Spoilers for both shows below!
Its branches were exquisite, and delicate, swaying slightly from small eddies in the liquid, and they shone with every spectra. I must confess that to look upon it, one was – (sigh) filled with profound wonder at its exquisite elegance. [...] Even I, steeped in worldly matters as I am, recognized The Lord’s words to Adam, and was much dismayed at the implication. Isaac then plucked the delicate fruit with ungloved hands and held it before me. [...] The creature was taking root. Strands of its mottled brown hair were extruding downwards between the floor, seeking the dark earth below. Then, too, its back began to sprout, radiant branches unfurling and thickening before me, reaching upwards towards the sunlight with a seemingly insatiable desire. [...] I tell you here, Robert, it saw me, and it knew me. (TMAGP 19 - HARD RESET)
It was an ornate wooden thing, with a snaking pattern of lines weaving their way around towards the centre. The pattern was hypnotic and shifted as I watched it, like an optical illusion. I found my eyes following the lines towards the middle of the table, where there was nothing but a small square hole. Graham noticed me staring, and told me that interesting antique furniture was one of his few true passions. Apparently he’d found the table in a second-hand shop during his student days and fallen in love with it. It had been in pretty bad shape but he’d spent a long time and a lot of money restoring it, though he’d never been able to figure out what was supposed to go in the centre. He assumed it was a separate piece and couldn’t track it down. (MAG 3 - ACROSS THE STREET)
Re: Magnus Institute Ruins. By RedCanary on Saturday April 23 2022 12:17pm. The photos from the spelunk seem properly gone, but I did find an old wooden thing with a bunch of similar symbols on. Some kinda empty box, not really sure what for, though. Gonna see if I can get the light right for a decent pic. Edit: No dice, I’m afraid. Must be something up with my phone camera. Really not helping the whole paranoia thing either. Anyone know anything about photographic distortion? Gonna see if I can borrow my dad’s SLR tomorrow. (TMAGP 1 - FIRST SHIFT)
Adelard Dekker stood in the corner. He was straight and motionless, his lips moving rapidly, though no sound came out of them. In the centre of the room, stood a table carved from dark wood and wrapped all over with a sprawling, intricate pattern. And in front of that table was the thing that had said it was my cousin. It was long and thin, the tops of it bent against the ceiling and its stick-like limbs flailed from too many joints and elbows. Wrapped around it were thick strands of what I think was spider’s web, stretching back into the table, which I now saw pulsed along its carved channels with a sickly light. The face at the top of that gangly frame was like nothing on earth. (MAG 78 - DISTANT COUSIN)
Now... Now I get it. I get it. I finally gave an answer. Or, at least, I think we'll get a concrete answer soon. But I think I get it.
I think I get where the web table comes from. I think I know what it's made of. why it glows. why it had a hole in the middle. I think I might know how the web gained control and sentience so much faster than the other fears. and, if it still manifests in the same way in the Protocol universe, how it also quickly became "the manager" of other fears, as theories suggest.
More importantly, I think I know what was up with the mysterious tree from so, so long ago.
Now I have an answer.
Why was there an apple buried in Hill Top Road?
I opened the box and sitting inside was a single green apple. It looked fresh, shiny, with a coat of condensation like it had just been picked on a cool spring morning. I picked it up. I wasn’t going to eat it, I’m not that stupid, but more than bleeding trees or phantom burning, this confused me. As I took it out of the box, though, it began to turn. The skin turned brown and bruised and started to shrivel in my hand. Then it split. And out came spiders. Dozens, hundreds of spiders erupting from this apple that was rotting right before my eyes. I shrieked and dropped it before any of them could touch my arm. The apple fell to the ground and burst in a cloud of dust. I backed away and waited until I was sure all the spiders had left before retrieving the box. I smashed it with a crowbar, and threw the remains into a skip. (MAG 8 - BURNED OUT)
And now I have an answer. Maybe.
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fairiewonu · 1 day
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roommate! wonwoo
18+ only!
summary: wonwoo finds your vibrator in the bathroom
warnings: smut, use of a vibrator, reader has a vulva
a/n: my mind has just been wonwoo wonwoo wonwoo wonwoo since maestro released. (it’s been wonwoo wonwoo wonwoo since 2020 honestly)
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i've been thinking a lot recently about roommate!wonwoo who you're not super close with. you met him through your mutual friend mingyu, and both of you were looking for a roommate. basically, you’re living together because it's cheap and he seemed nice enough.
you’ve talked with him here and there, and have gotten to know him a little bit. he goes to your college and everyone loves him but he’s sort of quiet and keeps to himself. he likes cats and ordering takeout and if you get home late at night you’ll sometimes find him fucking someone into the couch cushions (he apologized profusely, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be upset. you think about him whenever you’re in your room, your vibrator on the lowest setting so as to not wake him up).
you like to take advantage of the time you have when he’s not around, so whenever he's not home you like to take a bath with good music and your vibrator. although one day you had forgotten your vibrator in the bath and didn't realize until wonwoo had gotten home. you were in your room, still getting dressed when you heard the bathroom door shut across the hall and the shower head turn on.
you weren’t sure whether to run to the bathroom and try and get it before wonwoo saw (you know it's too late) or to act oblivious and pretend everything was normal when he came out. except when you choose the latter, wonwoo left the bathroom with just his towel wrapped loosely around his hips, and headed straight to your room.
"i think you forgot something," he said simply, holding up your vibrator with a smirk. he was leaning against your doorframe as you sat at your vanity, trying to look natural. the mortified expression on your face, however, gave your facade away.
UGHH and i keep thinking about the different ways this could go. wonwoo being smug and holding this slip up against you to tease you whenever he can. whenever he leaves now, he likes to say something like “have a nice bath.” anything to make your eyes widen and your cheeks burn. this goes on for a few weeks until either you or him break and y’all end up in bed together (or better yet in the bath. wonwoo wants to see how you use your little friend on yourself before he takes it and uses it on you).
or, after going into your room initially to taunt you he could just throw you on your bed and use the vibrator on you right then and there. he knows you’re already needy from using the toy earlier. just the click of the button to turn it on has your body arching towards him. he spends the next hour using the vibrator on you, until it dies. then he just replaces the toy with his hands and eventually, his cock.
wonwoo was grateful for your little mistake. he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on pretending that he couldn’t hear you at night, using your vibrator on the lowest setting as if you thought the walls were soundproof. hearing you moan his name one night, getting whinier and whinier to the point where he was sure you knew he could hear you.
he could definitely hear you now, as he pinned you to the bed and slammed his cock in and out of you. you’re begging to cum for the fourth time and wonwoo is reveling in your sounds. he flips you over and presses your face to your pillows, continuing a brutal pace as his hand reaches around you to rub harsh circles on your swollen clit. you’re cumming again not long after, but he’s nowhere near finished with you.
he makes up for lost time that night, keeping you up for hours after until you’re both passed out in your bed. the next day, you wake up to sound of your vibrator turning on. when your eyes open, wonwoo is next to you in bed, already spreading your legs apart.
“i found batteries.”
living with wonwoo was starting to have many more perks aside from cheapness and convenience.
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the-badger-mole · 2 days
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Swept Away
Katara took a deep breath. In through her nose. Out through her mouth. She wasn't nervous. Not really. Not in the sense that other people mean when they say they're nervous. She wasn't scared. She was eager. In a few short minutes, she would be a wife. She would be Zuko's wife. He was going to be her husband.
"Are you sure about this?" Suki asked for the thousandth time. "Really sure?"
"I am." Katara opened her eyes and turned to her sister-in-law. She couldn't fight the smile that spread over her face. "I'm more sure of this than anything in my life. Zuko's it. He's the one."
"Katara," Suki sighed. "Look, I get it. Zuko's incredibly hot. He's smart. He...seems really nice, but-"
"Suki," Katara started to say, but she didn't get a chance to complete her thought.
"Katara, you've known him three months!" Suki burst out. "You've only been dating for eight weeks! You are the most straight laced person I've ever met. Why are you doing something this...impulsive? You're not impulsive!"
"What are you talking about?" Katara turned from the mirror to face Suki directly. "I'm exactly this impulsive. Don't you remember Jang Hui? My protest about gender equality for STEM fields at the North Pole? The time I started a rally for prison reform?"
"Okay, fine," Suki relented, rolling her eyes. "When it comes to social justice, you are very impulsive. But, this? Katara, you're getting married! Without your dad here. Without your GranGran! I know how much they mean to you."
"They mean the world to me," Katara agreed. "But you know I've never cared about a huge wedding. I love Zuko. I love him. I don't see why I should have to wait to make him my husband just because it would take too long for Dad to fly over to see us get married. We'll have a big party...a huge one later. And everyone we love will get to meet and celebrate. But this feels right!"
"Right?" Suki snorted. "It feels right to get married without telling anyone but me and your brother?"
"Yeah," Katara said. A wistful smile tugged at her lips. "I know it sounds crazy, but...I can't wait to marry him. I literally cannot wait. I've never felt this way about anyone. You know! I know you do. Sokka told me you and he started talking about marriage two months in." Suki rolled her eyes skyward and groaned.
"Yeah, talking about it!" Suki repeated it. "We didn't actually get engaged until a year in! We got married on our second anniversary!"
"Zuko and I don't want to wait that long," Katara laughed. "So we've on a faster timeline. So what?"
"What if there are things you don't like about him?" Suki pressed. "What if he's....I don't know...super anal about the way you put toilet paper on the roll? What if he doesn't wash his feet in the shower? What if he...he hates cats?"
"Did you know Sokka's every annoying habit when you married him?" Katara challenged. Suki made a face at her and sucked her teeth.
"No," she admitted. "But I knew a few of them! I knew enough to know that I could deal with the biggest ones."
"So do I," Katara said. "I know that Zuko likes his food unreasonably spicy. I know that when he's angry, he shuts down and needs a day or two before he can talk about it calmly. I know he thinks rom-coms are a wasted of a perfectly good evening. But I also know that he already values my opinion and will make decisions with me. I know he's put in so much work unlearning toxic traits he was taught as a child, way before he and I met. I know he has the softest heart underneath the hard layers. In three months, he's become one of my closest friends. I trust him, and he trusts me. I love him, Suki. I want to marry him now.
"Um..." Suki swiped at her eyes with her knuckles, and blinked rapidly against more tears. "I get that. I do! I just don't want you to regret doing it this way. I don't want you to regret not having Dad here to walk you down the aisle. Or not having Gran Gran help you into your gown. Don't you want a first dance with Zuko?
Katara turned back to the mirror and considered her reflection. As a girl, she had pictured her wedding. Her dressed in silk and looking the best she's ever looked, and her father walking with her to meet her husband. It was exactly as Suki said, with her dancing with her new husband while people took pictures and tossed confetti. Her extended family together and celebrating.
"I don't need it," she told Suki. "Did you know that the only family that Zuko has is his uncle? His mother is dead. His father is a monster. His sister won't speak to him. He wouldn't be alone- he has friends- but, it wouldn't be the same. Plus crowds make him anxious.
"So he asked for this?" Suki frowned. "He wanted to get married at City Hall?
"No, this was my idea," Katara assured her best friend. "He said he was fine with whatever I wanted. But Zuko's an introvert, and a little agoraphobic. The only buffer he would have would be me and his uncle. He wouldn't enjoy himself. Not as much as I would want. There will be plenty of time later to celebrate with the people we love. But not all at once.
"Dad won't like it," Suki warned. Katara shrugged.
"He'll get over it once I explain it to him," she said. "And he'll love Zuko. They have a lot in common."
Suki stared at Katara for a long while, wracking her brains for something, anything to say to her sister-in-law. She came up frustratingly empty. She should have more objections to her best friend and sister marrying someone she's only known a few months. Katara was convincing. She was very convincing when she wanted to be. Finally, Suki threw her hands up in surrender. If Katara was making a mistake, then the next best thing Suki and Sokka could do was make sure they were at least close enough to help her if she needed it.
"Sokka's not thrilled," she told Katara. "I promised him I'd talk sense into you before it was too late."
"It's been too late for a while," Katara chuckled. Suki nodded and laughed with her.
"I see that now," she said. "Sokka's going to be so disappointed."
"I hope that won't cause any issues with you guys," Katara's brow drew down in worry. Suki just waved her off, though.
"Nah," she said. "I'll just tell him I'm pregnant if he gets too riled up." Katara gasped and leapt up from her seat.
"Are you joking?" she squealed. Suki grinned and shook her head.
"I just found out a couple of days ago," she said. "I was going to take him out to the game this weekend and have it announced on the jumbotron, but I'll use it to distract him from your questionable decision making if I need to."
"I'm so happy for you!" Katara said pulling Suki in for a hug. Suki hugged her back tightly.
"I'm happy for you, too." And to her surprise, Suki realized she meant it.
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doberbutts · 10 hours
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Also just because I've been getting some harassing anons and replies on my post ever since that one self-identified Zionist blog got BIG MAD at me for posting the Palestinian flag (ironic considering like 3 days later when I reblogged something Jewish I had people then BIG MAD at me for that too.......)
Skoll, I took on knowing I would probably have to euthanize him for his aggression. From the very beginning the deal was that I was his last stop since he was a known abuse court case dog who was taken from his most recent owners and languishing in a kennel environment but deemed otherwise unadoptable due to severe aggression. The agreement was that I would have him for however long it would take to determine if he was fixable and then either I'd fix it and keep him or I'd euthanize. He bit me three separate times when we were still learning each other, and then attacked me randomly for the crime of petting his head, an act of affection he normally would approach me to request. I euthanized him at the advice of literally everyone involved with his case, and a few days after I euthanized him I got a letter from the state telling me either I put him down or animal control would take him and do it themselves. Pennsylvania is very strict on what they consider a mauling or a maiming and the resulting bite from his attack was very severe. I have had multiple people, including vets, neurologists, and behaviorists, tell me that they think he had rage, a seizure disorder which causes uncontrollable aggression, when I describe what his random bouts of attempting to attack literally the first thing he locked eyes on looked like.
Tiki, I rescued because I wanted a tiny dog and a dog that would live longer than a doberman, because dobe lifespans are hideously short due to their health problems. Within about 5 minutes of driving away with her, I realized she was very, very sick. We stopped at the vet before we even got her home. Over the next several months and constant ER visits we discovered she had hydrocephalus and also an immune condition that was slowly eating her lungs. She crashed during a procedure that was supposed to be our last attempt at fixing the lung problem as by then we knew the hydrocephalus would kill her anyway and we were trying to extend her life as long as possible. I dropped her off for the procedure, they called me on my way home, and I turned around so I could be there to say goodbye.
Creed died from cancer 🤷‍♂️ mast cell cancer is THE most common cancer in dogs as a species and it's a genuine coin toss if removing the initial tumor fixes it or if it's too late by the time you notice, because it forms on scar tissue so it hides by looking like a regular scar. Creed had a bunch of nicks and scrapes from running around in the woods on our hikes. One of the earliest scars he ever got is what killed him in the end. Losing him is what turned my blog from what it used to be, all dogs all the time, to what it is now. Ironically, he lived roughly the average lifespan for a doberman at 7.5 years old.
Phoebe, I was not involved in the decision to euthanize her. She came to me once again very sick, and I did my best to fix the problem, but it seemed to be a lot bigger than me or her other owner had expected. Her other owner took her to multiple specialists more local to her, and finally we came to a tentative diagnosis of a liver shunt. Her condition degraded rapidly and she went blind and began having seizures, and her other owner made the choice to say goodbye. Surgery was not an option due to her already bad condition not being certain she would actually survive anesthesia. I knew that she was not doing well, but I was not informed that she had died until several months later, despite my asking for updates because I suspected she'd passed. I don't disagree with the choice, I just wish I'd known when it happened. What we thought was just a chronic hookworm infestation and possible pancreatitus from the long-term damage from the hookworms turned out to be much more serious, and deadly, when it stopped responding to treatment.
If you have any questions on my capability as a dog owner to actually keep dogs alive, I'd like to direct you to the fact that Creed and my other actually-purchased-from-a-breeder dogs have lived good long lives. I keep getting sick dogs in rescue despite being told they are healthy, and that is exactly why I refuse to rescue dogs anymore. I'm tired of breaking my heart while cleaning up a problem someone else created. This is the part of rescue that doesn't get shared- what happens when someone loses the rescue lottery again and again and again with sick and mentally unwell dogs that are doomed to die before they've had a chance to truly live? I'm tired of being that someone. I'm tired of loving dogs and hemorrhaging money in a desperate attempt to fix them and feeling the weight of their bodies in my arms when that wasn't enough and they die anyway.
At least I can say Creed had a good fulfilled life as my constant companion, even if he didn't live nearly long enough compared to what I wanted.
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roseghoul26 · 2 days
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Hello! I would like to request Cooper Howard x gn!reader (post war, because...murderous cowboy...hnnngh), where they struggle with mental health issues like depression? I've been in a really tough spot, having no energy or motivation to do anything or really any desire to take care of myself. So I was thinking, maybe the reader's mental health is declining, they're slower and sloppier when it comes to keeping up with Cooper and he's more and more frustrated. Then one day he has enough (maybe the reader is taking too long packing up) and threatens to leave them and they're just...passive, because they really don't care anymore about what happens to them. So he realises they haven't been taking care of themselves properly for a while now and then some soft moments with him? I know this is pretty dark and you can change this however you'd like, but I'm dying for some hurt/comfort with this man 🥺 It's totally cool if it's too much for you, if you decide to not write this, please just let me know, so I don't wait for it. Thank you so much, I love your Cooper fics <3
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Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x gn!Reader
Synopsis: You’ve been struggling lately, putting both you and your traveling companion in danger. He was bound to confront you about it eventually. Tags: Prompt Request, Not Beta Read, Gender Neutral Reader, Depression, Mental Health, Mentions of Suicide, Disagreements, Comfort, Lazy Day, Cuddling, Beginning Relationships Author's Note: Trigger warning for topics relating to mental health, such as depression and suicide. Please do not read if you’re not in a good mental space. Take care of yourselves. Also, everyone’s experience with depression and mental health issues differs, so I am writing this story the way I experience it. Also, this was a fun challenge to write. Like how the hell would he approach a topic like this? It’s been fun to explore his character like that, and I hope I did it justice. Thank you so much for the request! <333
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You used to be able to keep up with the Ghoul. 
Wherever he went, you followed, tearing through the Wastleland without hindrance. You watched his back, and he yours, a security that was unheard of in this world. It was a trusting friendship, bordering on something else, something that neither of you had crossed yet. You couldn't compete with over a hundred years of experience with a gun, but you were able to hold your own quite well. You were a decent shot and someone who never let anyone get the drop on you, senses always sharp. 
So when you started missing easy targets and found yourself surprised by opponents one too many times, you knew it was a matter of time before the Ghoul started asking questions and not believing the first lie that you said. The first time it had happened, you blamed it on your lack of sleep, and he seemed to buy it. And maybe you convinced yourself it was just a lack of sleep, ignoring the darkness that had begun to emerge in your mind. You just needed to rest, was what you told yourself. 
It happened again a few days later, completely missing a target in front of you. Your reactions had begun to slow down, too, unable to avoid the swing of a blade, cutting across your cheek. It was like your body gave up on wanting to move, an unbearable weariness to your muscles that you were unable to shake. Later, as you bandaged the wound on your cheek, the Ghoul confronted you, demanding to know why you were acting so sloppy. You’d merely shrugged, offering up the idea that you were sick. This time he seemed less convinced, yet he had let the matter go. 
You knew why you were acting the way you were. You weren’t unfamiliar with depression, far from it. It was something you’d dealt with your entire life, coming and going like waves. You’d go days, weeks, months and you’d be fine, but then a flip would switch. You’d lose your energy, your motivation, wanting nothing more than to just lay on the ground and never get back up. You’d stop taking care of your body. You’d lose your appetite. Your thoughts would turn dark, ideations and ideas flashing in your mind, things that you’d never tell another soul. 
For the months you’d been traveling with the Ghoul, you’d been able to keep a reign on your depression. Sure, you had your off days, but nothing like this. It was like the universe was punishing you for having such an excellent past months. 
But how could you explain this to your traveling partner? How could you explain that you didn’t have the energy to continue existing, to continue fighting? He needed you to be alert, to not have your thoughts occupied with something, that in perspective to the Wasteland around you, was trivial. 
So you kept your mouth shut, forcing yourself to appear alert and unaffected. You forced those thoughts to the back of your mind. You forced your body to move, no matter how much it screamed at you to just be still.
But it seemed that all that bottling your thoughts up did was make it worse. As the days dragged on, you stopped talking, only muttering small words whenever the Ghoul asked you a question. You’d normally spend the time traveling conversing, and the Ghoul did try to initiate a conversation with you, but no amount of questions and joking and jabs could get you to break. Eventually, he fell quiet too.
Sleeping became a challenge. You’d think with how exhausted your body felt, you’d be able to sleep easily, but the opposite was true. Hours would tick by, and you’d lie awake, getting up the next morning more exhausted than before you went to bed. Your face, already a bit gaunt from living such a difficult life, had grown even more so, the circles around your eyes darkening and your lips growing more chapped. 
You stopped eating, turning away the food he offered you. After you went a few days without eating more than a bite, he practically forced spoonfuls of food into your mouth, snapping at you the entire time. It was humiliating, but you couldn’t bring yourself to change. You just wanted to be done. 
You could tell that your demeanor was starting to annoy the hell out of the Ghoul, whose words had turned shorter and snappier. If you took too long, he’d grab you by the shoulder and drag you along, like an upset parent with their child. Your cheeks would burn every time, tears pickling your eyes, and you’d hang your head. 
There was a tension growing between you and the Ghoul, your friendship growing thin. His guard was up constantly, unable to trust you any longer to watch his back, which hurt you more than any knife or gun. Soft glances disappeared, his gaze scrutinizing when he looked at you. Light touches from him reserved for when you were at rest were no more, as you chose to keep to yourself every night. Instead of walking side-by-side, you’d linger a few feet behind him. You pretended like it was easier this way, to make him push you away, but it was tearing you apart. 
But eventually, that tension snapped. Too many close calls, too many sluggish movements, too many half-hearted excuses finally made him break. You’d just gotten up for the day, another sleepless night behind you, and you were packing up your few belongings. You must’ve been taking too long, because you heard him sigh audibly, standing in the open doorway of the room you’d sheltered in for the night. “What’s your fuckin’ issue?” He growled, arms crossed tight over his chest.
You looked up, feigning confusion. “I dunno what-”
“Bullshit,” he cut you off. He began to walk towards you, his steps methodical, threatening. “You’ve been actin’ like this for weeks, and you’ve only offered me half-assed excuses.” He was seething, and understandably so. He crouched down in front of you, rendering you unable to escape. “So, you,” he stuck a finger in your chest, barely avoiding hitting you, “are gonna tell me why. And don’t even think ‘bout lyin’, sweetheart.”
You swallowed, heart hammering in your chest at the confrontation. Words flooded your mind, a full explanation on the tip of your tongue, yet you just couldn’t bring yourself to utter it. Your mouth opened and closed, struggling, until you eventually just gave up. Sighing, you just shook your head, which pissed him off even more. 
A disbelieving laugh left him, and he ran a gloved hand over his face. “No? You’re kiddin’ me, right?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Ya know, I’ve tried to be lenient. I bought into your fuckin’ lies that you were ‘just tired’, ‘just sick’. I tried to give ya space, to give ya time to get out of this. But you’re gonna get us both killed if ya don’t fix yourself. I can’t be distracted out there, constantly worried ‘bout you and keepin’ you alive, ‘cause it seems like that’s the last thing on your mind.”
He took a breath, steadying his rising voice. “So I’m gonna give ya one more chance to explain yourself, or else I’m leavin’ without ya.”
“Then leave.” Your response came almost immediately, your voice lacking any inflection. Even though in the back of your mind you were screaming at him not to leave, you kept an air of indifference about you, unable to make yourself care. It would be easier if he just left, wouldn’t it? You wouldn’t be putting anyone else in danger, and you wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt you felt of him worrying about you so much. And it would be so much easier to just disappear if there was no one looking for you.
He wasn’t expecting that as a response if the look on his face told you anything. His brow muscles were raised, leaning back from you in shock. But the way he was watching you, it was like he was observing you in a different light, dots beginning to connect in his mind. “You’ll die out there without me.” 
You merely shrugged your shoulders, glancing down to continue packing your belongings, no longer able to look him in the eye. He didn’t respond, simply standing up with a sigh. You didn’t look up, not even as you heard him walk away, backing towards the entrance of the room. You didn’t look up, even as you heard the surprisingly gentle click of the door as it shut. You didn’t look up, even as the tears that you’d been holding for the past weeks finally fell.
You were alone.
You thought it would make you feel better like there would be a weight lifted off your shoulders. But everything just felt heavier, the thoughts in your mind becoming a tempest, making you physically weak. Expletives tumbled from your lips as you sagged down onto your arms, head hung. Of course, he’d fucking leave, you idiot. No one wants to deal with your moping.
A part of you wanted to chase after him, to beg him to stay, but you already felt pathetic enough. You couldn’t blame him for leaving, not at all. You were weighing him down, putting his life in danger; he said so himself. He could only deal with you for so long. You should be grateful that he didn’t leave sooner.
The sound of rustling fabric made you jump, finally looking up. The Ghoul had taken off his jacket, laying it across the back of the couch he had slept on, never having left the room at all. Stunned, you watched him sit, taking his hat off in the process and setting it on the floor. He finally caught your eye then, a soft look on his face, a look you hadn’t seen in a long while. 
“I thought you left,” you whispered, sitting back upright. Embarrassment warmed your cheeks, and you tried to wipe the tears that had fallen on them. 
“I ain’t leavin’ ya, sweetheart.”
“Why not?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Do you want me to go?” You’d never shaken your head faster in your life. “Then I’m stayin’.”
“But why?”
He sighed. “‘Cause I care ‘bout you. I… Is that too hard to believe?”
It is. Unable to find words, you just shrugged again. 
Something akin to regret or remorse flashed across his face, and muttering something under his breath he reclined against the couch. He was upset, but even now you could tell it was not because of you, at least not fully. “C’mere,” he murmured, patting the couch beside him. “You look like you’re gonna fuckin’ bolt at any second.”
Taking a steadying breath, you complied, albeit with some difficulty, your legs barely wanting to function. His gaze didn’t leave you once, as much as you wished it would, making you want to collapse in on yourself. The walk to the couch felt like it was miles long, but you eventually made your way over to it and him. 
He rolled his eyes when you just stood there in front of him, unsure of what to do with yourself. “Sit down, I ain’t gonna fuckin’ bite.” In another situation, you knew he’d add some comment like unless ya want me to, but he bit his tongue. The couch groaned as you sat next to the Ghoul, keeping a foot between your bodies. “Talk to me,” he commanded, yet his voice was gentle. “What the hell’s goin’ on?”
You picked at the skin around your nails, no doubt drawing blood. “I’m… I’m not quite sure how to explain it,” you responded, and you expected your words to upset the man even more. But he nodded his head slowly, an almost understanding look on his face. “I’m just… done."
“Done with… what? Bein’ out on the road?” You shook your head. “Travellin’ with me?” You shook your head again, this time more vehemently. “Done with what?” You knew that he knew the answer to his question, but he wanted you to say it.
“I’m done with… with existing. I just can’t bring myself to care anymore. I’m just so tired of it all.” You sagged back against the couch like speaking took a toll on your body. “I’m so tired.”
He didn’t respond for a while, mulling over your words. “That… that explains a lot,” he chuckled humourlessly. “Your mind won’t just leave ya the hell alone, will it? It's like all your mind can focus on are these terrible fuckin’ things, no matter what ya do. And it just weighs on ya, like a million pounds, getting worse with every passin’ day until you just wanna… give up.”
He explained it perfectly, and you cocked your head to the side, a bit confused about how he was able to do so. “I ain’t a stranger to what you’re goin’ through. We’re well fuckin’ acquainted, to say the least. So I shoulda recognized it sooner with ya.” 
He paused, sighing. “Wanna know somethin’?” You nodded. “I was too busy thinkin’ ‘bout what I did to upset ya that I didn’t bother to think of any other possible reason as to why you’re actin’ the way you are. But once I realized it wasn’t my fault, not entirely, instead of bein’ there for ya, I was an ass. I thought, because I’m a damn idiot, that you were just mopin’ around for the hell of it, putting us both in danger simply ‘cause you were tired or some shit. Not once did I stop to think why. And I apologize.”
“You don’t gotta-” He cut you off with a pointed look. “I… I accept your apology, then.”
He nodded slowly, content. “I’d like to help ya, sweetheart. I know nothin’ I say or do is gonna make it go away like that… but I’d like to try. Whatever ya need from me, and you’ve got it.”
“I’m not sure what I need exactly,” you admitted quietly.
“When ya figure it out, will ya let me know?” You nodded.
“Just… be patient. As difficult as that is for you.” You hadn’t meant for the jab to come out, but you weren’t taking it back. Especially when a loud laugh left the Ghoul, making a smile of your own appear on your face. It was faint, yet it was there.
An almost starstruck expression appeared on his face, his laughter dying out. “I missed seein’ ya smile,” he murmured as if it was a subconscious thought.
You ducked your head, making him laugh again. “As for bein’ patient, well, I can be that, if that’s what ya need.”
“It’ll take some time,” you cautioned again, indirectly giving him a chance to back out of this. 
“Time ain’t an issue. I’ll wait as long as it fuckin’ takes.”
“You mean it?” Your voice was so soft, barely audible to either of you. 
You watched as one of his gloved hands inched towards you, palm upturned. Tentatively, you placed your in his, eyes growing wide when he brought your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it gently. “I swear,” he uttered, sealing the promise with another press of his lips.
As you returned your tingling hand to your lap, his eyes scanned over your face, a furrow appearing between his brow. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten somethin’? Somethin’ that I didn’t force ya to eat,” he added when you opened your mouth to respond. 
Your silence said enough, and he leaned down to his bag, which he had placed beside the couch when he sat. After a few moments of rustling through, he handed you a small bag of what appeared to be jerky, as well as a small canteen of water. “It ain’ human,” he added when you eyed the bag suspiciously before taking it.
The jerky was salty and tough when you took a bite, not quite wanting to, but unable to not eat under his gaze. You ate in silence until your stomach was full and your teeth hurt from the tough material. Taking a swig of water, you could feel your eyes growing heavy, eating seemingly draining your energy more than replenishing it. Stifling a yawn, you shoved the canteen back into his hand, and you noticed he had an almost pleased look on his face. 
You were confused, though, when he stood, making his way to the entrance of the room. For a moment, those thoughts flashed in your mind that told you that he was finally leaving, that he realized how pathetic you were. But instead of doing any of those things, you watched as he simply wedged a chair under the handle of the door, like he had done before you went to bed for the night. 
“What’re you doing?”
“We takin’ the day off. Doctor’s orders.”
“But aren’t we supposed to be in Filly in a few days?”
“We’ll be fine. You are gonna spend today catchin’ up on some much-needed rest.” He stood in front of you now, a moth-eaten blanket in his hands. 
“And what are you gonna do?” You asked, and he shrugged. 
“Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart. Go ‘head, lie down.”
Your eyes quickly scanned the couch, and you took a deep breath before speaking again. “The couch is big enough for us both, no?”
For the second time that day, you’d stunned him with your responses. “Is… is that what ya want?”
Encouraged that he hadn’t just outrightly said no, you nodded your head, and a fond look crossed his features. He handed you the blanket before sitting once more, but instead of his back being against the cushions, he rested it against one of the armrests, not before tucking a pillow in front of it. 
Once he was situated, he opened up his arms to you, and you could’ve laughed at how uncertain he looked. Hands rested on your body when you laid down, head on his chest, laying on your stomach, and you made sure the blanket covered both your bodies as best you could. You weren’t too worried about covering all of you, though, with the sheer amount of warmth he was radiating. 
His eyes were already on you when you glanced up, a smile pulling at his lips. “Comfy?”
“Yes.” Your voice was barely audible, but he heard it. 
You felt his fidget with something in his hand behind your back, but you didn’t have to wait long to find out what he was doing. You felt fingers run along your scalp, making you shudder, before combing through any hair there. “Alright?”
You sighed contently, nodding your head before letting it fall back onto his chest. He continued to run his fingers there, his other hand tracing patterns across your shoulders. You hadn’t realized how tired you were until now, finding it hard to keep your eyes open. For the first time in a long time, you felt safe. Safe from the world outside this room. Safe from the thoughts that plagued your mind. Safe from everything. 
He didn’t have to see your face to know that you were struggling to stay awake. “Go to bed. I’ll be here when you wake.”
“Promise?”
“Ain’t fuckin’ like I’m gonna be able to get up,” he chuckled, before taking a more serious tone. “I promise.”
That was all you needed to hear before you finally let the final strings of consciousness leave your grasp. Before you lost control of all your senses, though, you felt him lean down, pressing a barely-there kiss to the top of your head. “You’ll get through this, sweetheart.”
You believed him.
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thewrothode-if · 2 days
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Has this been abandoned?
Short answer: No!
Long answer: My relationship with this IF resembles that of a toxic ex-partner. I've been on and off with my baby girl (the IF) for the past few months. There have been moments where I ended up writing more than I planned to, and then the next day, I lose that motivation to keep going. So, I simply stop writing for a week until I find that passion again.
However, it's not abandoned! I just suck at keeping that consistency. I tried to stay off Tumblr because, honestly, it contributes to my lack of focus. When I use Tumblr, I become fixated on the idea of my IF, my characters, my story, rather than the actual act of writing.
But I feel so crappy for keeping you all in the dark. So, I apologize for that! I wanted to post this when I was actually finished with the first chapter, so you guys actually had something to look forward to. But MAN, this is taking so much longer than I thought. I really never imagined just how much 1,000 words is to write.
I have planned a few new things for the prologue as well. I plan on editing that after I finish the first chapter (or going back and forth between the two until both are finished, hehe). As of now, the first chapter sits at around 49k, the prologue at around 19k. In total, around 68k.
But trust me when I say this: it is not yet finished and I have so many other variations to add, so much flavor text to include.
Pray for me, ya'll.
Edit: I forgot to mention that I actually added a minor RO.
He is a male. I apologize to the ones who wanted more female RO's. Right now, I have a minor female RO that I have floating around in my head, and that I actually need to think about before adding her in.
Anyway, you will meet the minor RO in the first chapter, but never see him again (since you go to England, poo), at least, not until the second book. He will be A LOT more present there.
The reason he is a minor RO is because he will only have two endings, and for another reason I feel like might be a spoiler.
So get ready for that!!
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entirelysein-e · 3 hours
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『 Now you're mine 』
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☼ synopsis: Yuuji wanted to try out something new but didn't expect Sukuna to take over - none of you expected him to approve
☼ wc: 1.1k
☼ cw: dom!reader, oral (reader giving), anal play, pegging, consent checks, slight dub!con with Sukuna, choking sukuna
☼ notes: repost from my kinktober 2023 | you gotta put up with me reposting my fave works now 🙂‍↕️
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Yuuji didn't know how drunk he must have been to confess to you that he would like to get pegged by you one day but he's glad that his drunken self knew no shame and straight up told you - sober you. You knew he was completely wasted and didn't take it serious but the thought of hearing him whimper for you to move, to hear him beg for you to fuck him harder had you rubbing your thighs together and taking a mental note to bring it up at a point where his head is clear and definitely not during his hangover breakfast.
There was an awkward silence at the table when Sukuna spoke up through Yuuji, letting him know just what he told you the night before, followed by the pink haired man just staring at you with wide eyes to which you smiled. “He's not wrong… you did confess that to me. But if you really meant it, i’m more than willing to do it with you,” you reassured him, turned on by the thoughts flooding your mind again. Poor Yuuji almost choked on his scrambled eggs when you were so bold about it and blushed in numerous shades of red “I'll think about it...” he mumbled slightly embarrassed to which you only shrugged, not wanting to push the topic.
It's been weeks since the awkward breakfast when Yuuji was ready to try it out, even bringing a few toys along with a strap he got just for this occasion, which took you by surprise but you never let him know, wanting to make him as comfortable as possible when you pressed your lips against his in a passionate yet hungry kiss. He didn't even think much about anything at all when he felt your lips on his, your soft hands cupping his cheeks with utmost care which always made him feel so safe, loving the way you treated him so gently. The moment Yuuji laid down on the bed, having you straddle him his brain was entirely off, feeling your clothed core rub against him always drove him insane from the anticipation but today he had to wait - getting treated a little different today when you started taking off his clothes painfully slow before shedding your own and kissing down his toned body. Your lips felt like clouds gracing his body with utmost care, kissing down his defined abs before sucking two little marks on his hip bones, his hard length twitched against your boobs. “Put your legs up, pretty boy. I’ll take my sweet time with you today,” you mumbled against his skin and gently moved his legs up, his puckered hole on display for you which was slightly embarrassing to him, judging by the way his cheeks burned red.
"You're so handsome, Yuuji," you said softly and kissed one of his thighs before licking a long stripe along his cock, sucking on the tip once you reached it. One hand was stroking the rest of his length while the other played with his balls, the sweetest moans escaping his lips at the sensations. The hand that played with his balls slowly traveled lower, making the man beneath you gasp when a single finger started massaging the ring of muscles which only made you suck him off more eager to ease his nerves - you promised to take it slow after all. Only after he came for the first time tonight you lubed your finger up to push it into his puckered hole, enough to make him whimper and blush “you can put another in. I've done this before,” he admitted shy but you didn't tease him about it, liking it when he lets you know what he likes or what he tried before. Carefully you slipped your second finger in at his request, gently fingering his tight hole open while caressing his thigh with your free hand, peppering kisses over it to ease his nerves when you replaced your fingers with a small toy, wanting to prepare him for the dildo on the strap. “I feel so full,” he whined out, being vocal about his experience and how good you make him feel as his hips moved in sync with your hand. “Such an eager boy for me. Think you can handle the strap?” You asked with a wicked grin, leaving the smaller toy pushed inside as you adjusted the strap to your hips, the silicone cock resting heavy next to his and the sight alone made him whimper and nod. “I’m ready.” He confirmed and lubed the toy up for you, palming his neglected cock with the leftover lube as you nudged the thick tip of the dildo against his puckered hole.
Yuuji tried his best to stay calm so he wouldn't clench up too much, making it easy for you to slip the toy past the ring of muscles and halfway in. His jaw went slack, hanging wide open at how much you're stretching him, never having felt this full before and you only smirked down at him as you reached for his hips. “I’m only halfway in, pretty boy. Can you handle more?” You asked slightly concerned but the way he moaned let you know he needed you to push the rest in, babbling nonsense while nodding. Half a dildo already broke the sweet boy and made him dumb. Gently you thrusted the last half in and stopped moving to let him adjust and only started with slow thrusts when his whining got so loud. The way he fisted his cock looked so desperate to you. Small tears pricking at the corners of his eyes when he looked up at you, begging you to fuck him harder - his wish was your command. Your grip on his hips tightened when you started to pound into his tight hole, making the poor man see stars when you repeatedly hit his prostate and just as he threatened to cum you saw the changes happening. Sukuna. Without thinking much you wrapped your hand around his throat and fucked him harder than before, loving that the king of curses is at your mercy now. He looked unhappy at the activities his vessel was involved in when he spoke up, struggling in your grip “you fucking brat- think you can just-” he couldn't end his sentence as his body started to crumble, the way you fucked him making him cum all over his abs as your smirk grew along with the grip on his neck. “You're mine now. Fucking brat” you hissed, your pace not once faltering to overstimulate him and even if Sukuna wanted to act up, he just couldn't. The pleasure was far too great to have it taken away, succumbing to your words and touch as the king of curses moaned loudly. You're right, he's your little bitch now but the thought of his vessel being sore from your rough treatment made this all even better.
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moeitsu · 1 day
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Since it's pride month I wanna talk about something I've noticed in the Red Dead Redemption fandom:
The Bisexual erasure of Sadie Adler and Arthur Morgan.
I apologize if this comes across as harsh, but it's something that's been on my mind since I started interacting w/ this media. And as a bisexual, I wanted to discuss it further.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with shipping these characters with the same sex. Personally, I am a Charthur shipper till the day I die. I don't ship Sadie with anyone but her husband, but I still enjoy seeing the fanart and headcanons of the women she's shipped with.
That being said, these characters are not lesbian or gay. That's literally a fact, and if you think otherwise it is bisexual erasure.
Let's start with Sadie Adler. Her entire character arc is getting revenge on the O'Driscolls for killing her husband. Whom she mourns for years, and talks about frequently with Arthur/other camp members. Now, if you want to ship her w/ Abigail or Molly or whomever, go for it!! But she has loved and still loves her husband. She is not a lesbian, and she didn't just magically turn into a lesbian after Jake's death. If she had any love interests other than Jake, this would make her bisexual. (even Sapphic is still a more appropriate term than lesbian)
The same goes for women in real life who have dated men first, then dated a woman. Just because their current partner is the same sex doesn't mean we can assume they are suddenly lesbian. Calling characters lesbians even if they have been in a relationship with men before is bisexual erasure.
This same concept is applied to Arthur Morgan. He had previous relationships with women. (one of whom he still has strong feelings for) and he is attracted to women. We see this with his greeting dialogue and when he compliments people. I believe Arthur's character is more likely to be bisexual than Sadie's, given his interactions w/ some of the men in the game. But that doesn't erase the fact that he's still attracted to the opposite sex. Arthur is not a gay man. Disregarding his past relationships w/ women is a form of bisexual erasure.
There is a huge double standard here because if these character's were actually lesbian/gay and the fandom decided to ship them with people of the opposite sex (i.e headcanon they are bi), there would be a major discourse.
Whenever bisexual women and men are presented in the media I always notice a few things:
Bi women are "secretly straight"
Bi women "don't know their lesbian yet"
Bi men are "secretly gay"
As well as this funny little graphic below ↓
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Like I said before, I am bisexual. And if I'm being honest this years pride month has been exhausting and mildly infuriating with how the community seems to disregard bisexuals in a hetero relationship.
I stopped talking about my bisexuality with people because once they know I have been in a committed relationship with a man for seven years, I am suddenly excluded from the conversation.
I've had ex-friends tell me that I only identify as bisexual to "fit in" with the queer community. I've had people in college assume I was lesbian bc of the way I dressed, and then try to tell me that I must be secretly lesbian when I tell them I'm Bi. (Ppl also assumed I was non-binary bc of the way I presented but that's another story)
This stuff doesn't just happen to fictional characters, it happens to real people every single day. I'm honestly tired of ppl saying "well my headcanon doesn't hurt anybody, they're not real." Yes it does!! You are supporting Bi erasure!!
That's all I'm gonna say on this topic for now. I'd love to leave it open for discussion, but please be nice. This isn't a call-out or me trying to antagonize the queer rdr community. I just wanted to get it off my mind.
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whumblr · 2 days
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Hey! I just wanted to say that I absolutely love Home is Where the Hurt Is, I've been rereading it over and over again for literal days, it's great. You're a really good writer! I was wondering if you would be willing to do a drabble with restraints for Jay? Idk i just think that Zayne would have fun with that. feel free to ignore this, ofc, if you don't want to do it no pressure.
“Whoawhoa, wait! Wait!”
But already spinning in midair with the wall approaching at breakneck speed, there wasn’t much to wait for. Besides the unavoidable crash right into said wall. Which he managed to break, just about, catching himself with his free hand. He grunted at the collide, dazed for a second, time that Zayne used well by snatching up his other wrist and twisted it to his back.
“How about a something like this?”
Zayne pressed further up against him, pinning him to the wall with his body. He clamped both Jay’s wrists together in one hand, keeping them firmly to the small of his back. With his free hand, he pulled something from his pocket. Jay immediately snapped from his daze.
“Oh, no! No, no, no, absolutely not!”
Zayne wiggled the long piece of plastic around. A zip-tie. “Absolutely, yes.”
Jay struggled with all his might, pulling one hand free from Zayne’s grasp, only to be caught again and renew his struggles to break free. A dance they continued for a bit until Zayne leaned his full body weight against him and forced one wrist up to his shoulder blades.
“Then I take you want me to rip your arm from its socket. Only a little more slowly,” he said, actions following his words, slowly forcing Jay’s wrist further up in-between his shoulder blades, relishing the bitten off cry. “Twisting it until it finally grinds free and—"
“NO!”
“You give such mixed signals, you know.”
The sharp pain in his shoulder subsided and Jay mentally called himself – and Zayne – all the worst names he could think of as he voluntarily, under threat, pressed his wrists together.
A zipping sound crinkled the air, filled his stomach with dread before he even felt the plastic pull his wrists together, biting into the skin. He yelped out an indignant sound.
Zayne grabbed him by the collar, yanked him back and with a simple tap to the back of his ankles pulled him right over.
Jay flailed—or well, didn’t. His intended wild swing of both arms was restricted, the force absorbed by the plastic around his wrists. Unable to break his fall, and not wanting to land on both arms, he twisted best as he could and landed with a grunt on his shoulder, the shoulder that he was glad still remained in its socket but shifted precariously against the sudden impact.
The plastic hadn’t given at all at the sudden yank, but his skin had. He hissed at the sudden pain.
“Take it off!” He tried not to struggle, knowing it would only make things worse but the discomfort made him automatically twist his wrists. “It's— Agh!— It’s too tight!”
“I might consider it if your fingers are turning purple.”
But by then it would be too late… Though Jay didn't say as much. Because the immediate future – Zayne now unfolding his knife – demanded much more attention than the near future.
Fearful eyes met cold eyes looking down on him.
He scooted a few inches back in retreat, feet scrambling, shoulder sliding over the floor, pushing himself away and keeping his eyes on the threat. He was vulnerable as fuck, barely able to move. All he could do was buck like a fish on dry. And even those small movements caused nothing but pain. His arms were screaming in protest, straining as his own body weight pressed them down.
His hand already started to feel numb, the added pressure sending a tingling sensation to his pinky finger. Like bubbles creeping up over his hand, coating every finger one by one until his whole hand was pins and needles.
But as he struggled for a form of relief, a single heavy footstep made him go still.
Zayne stepped towards him, raised one leg, and Jay could do nothing but watch as he slowly rested a boot heavily against his shoulder. He ignored the soft pleaded ‘no…’ and forced Jay over onto his back.
Jay winced hard, both arms crushed under his own weight, tendons straining, hips pressing his wrists painfully against the floor. Every pointy bit of bone protruding grinded hard against the floor, wrist bones, elbows, shoulder blades…
Zayne smiled down on him, slowly forcing more of his weight down, leaning forward, taking in every wince, every struggle. Watched as Jay’s hips bucked up, how his face twisted in pain. And only when a soft cry of pain scraped out of his throat, he let up.
For merely a second. The boot retreated, but was replaced by Zayne’s full weight as he settled over Jay, straddling his waist. He pulled him up by the front of his shirt. Almost an relief, as the pressure lifted from his arms. But now the knife teased into his line of vision, moving down his jaw line, making him go still as the tip scratched over the vulnerable skin of his throat.
He knew that even with his arms free he still couldn’t do a damn thing to make Zayne stop. But struggling or at least being able to put a hand on Zayne’s shoulder to give the illusion he was holding him at bay was better than absolutely nothing at all.
“Don’t,” he settled on, voice his only defense as he hung limp in Zayne’s grasp.
“I quite like this,” Zayne said, voice soft. “Not having to catch flailing hands for a change, having both hands free for—” He dipped the blade under the neck of Jay’s shirt letting it rest just above his clavicle – “other things…”
“Don’t! AGh!” His head fell back, teeth clenched as Zayne excruciatingly slow let the tip sink into his skin and dragged it across the length of his clavicle. Blood tickled over the bone, dripping down his chest, staining his white t-shirt.
A soft chuckle. The blade retreated and just as sudden Zayne let go of him.
Jay hissed as he landed on his wrists again. He immediately rolled over before Zayne could stop him, with a groan of relief as the pressure lifted from his arms.
“I think my hands are about to fall off…”
Zayne stepped over him. “Oh, stop your whining. I’m sure it’s not that ba— oh shit.”
“What?”
“Damn, I’m sorry—I…”
“What?!” Jay nearly twisted his neck trying to look over his shoulder what got Zayne to fucking apologise.
“Here, let me just…” The cold of the knife touched against his skin and with a quick flick upwards, the plastic broke.
Jay’s hands shot back to his front. He twisted his hands back and forth. Going by the numb feeling and Zayne’s words, he expected purple fingertips, ready to either fall off or explode due to a lack of blood. He turned his hands up and down, left, right, back again, and wiggled his fingers. But besides the red circles around his wrists, everything was in working order. Nothing dying off.
Panicked eyes turned exasperated, and he shot a glance of rage up.
Zayne had pressed his lips together in a badly hidden smirk. “All fine.” He rustled in his pocket again and pulled out a handful of zip-ties. “Meaning we can safely try this again.”
-
@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror
@susiequaz12 @whump-me-all-night-long @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime
@freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks
@hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion
@afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime @whumpedydump @pickleking8
@itsmyworld98 @whumpifi @painless-and-colourful @withdrawingramen @lolrpop
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aniesvision · 3 days
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distraction (bff!colby x f!reader)
based on a request! (im sorry it's not exactly how u asked for but i'll do more fics with colby and try to use all your requests, for now i hope u like this one 💕)
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warnings: little angst at the beginning, mentions of break-up and cheating (not her or colby), crying, kissing, making out, fingering, oral (f! receiving), handjob, p in v, pet names (baby, pretty girl), kinda rough (?), slight dumbification, spanking but just a lil bit, all fours!, orgasm denial, praising, pleading, backshot.
a/n: hi! I had this in my notes but in portuguese, so I tried to translate it, if the writing is different that's why! i hope you guys enjoy it, and just the usual reminder: english is not my first language!
synopsis: you go through a breakup and decide to drive to your best friend's house to distract yourself, but he surprises you with his choice of distraction.
note: Colby's purple!
🪻🪻🪻
Although I had always loved rainy days, the gray clouds covering the sun and the drops of water soaking the concrete streets, today I couldn't see it in a positive way. Traffic was at a standstill, a thunderstorm was falling on the glass, and the sound of my music was being drowned out by the loud noise of drops contacting the roof and windows of the car.
In any other situation, I would've just parked, turned up the sound and enjoyed the time. But now, I would do anything to stop all this and just get to my destination right away.
The stress of the current situation and the memories of what brought me this far rolled through my mind and all I could do was feel the tears forming and falling on the steering wheel.
It was just a few more damn blocks, just a few more streets, just a little bit more. The crying came as hard and heavy as the rain outside. If there's one thing I've always hated it's feeling weak. To be collapsing in the car, standing in the middle of the street with a storm happening, the feeling of being so close, yet so far from where I wanted to be, was too much.
Not only that, but having just moved out of my, now ex, boyfriend's house after he decided to finally confess that he had been cheating on me for the past few weeks while I had been traveling for work and thinking about how I missed him didn't help at all.
I didn't want to go for so long, I hated being out of the house, out of my comfort zone, and even though I enjoyed my job and learned a lot, maybe I could have avoided it all.
Of course, if he cheated, it wasn't because we were separated for a long time (witch wasn't even the case, it was just two weeks), it was because he was a dick.
But still, I can't help but wonder if things could've gone differently if I had simply refused the trip.
It was only two weeks, which in theory wouldn't be that long. Two weeks, in which I dedicated myself to work and tried to improve my career. Two weeks in which he was always too busy for a facetime, but said he missed me. Two weeks in which I bought gifts for him, in which I texted him whenever it was possible, in which he was fucking another woman in the same bed that I used to spend my nights.
I returned from the trip straight to him, straight to his house, straight into his arms. The hug and touch I wanted to feel so much.
He opened the door and didn't even smile at me. I walked in, asked what was wrong, my heart already felt that something was going to happen, that there was something wrong. I knew, even before he said anything, that we weren't going to stay together after that conversation.
When we sat down and he explained his reason for not wanting to be with me anymore, for making me feel guilty for leaving him alone, apologizing for cheating on me but not seeming to regret it, my heart broke into a thousand little pieces.
I didn't say a word, I just handed him the gift I bought him during the trip, knowing he'd like it, and walked out the door. I hadn't cried until then, even though I was destroyed from the first moment.
My idea was to go to my best friends' house and try my best to forget about all this. But, traffic happened, and the tears kept coming, and I couldn't even pull myself together enough to drive a few more damn streets. I cried, and cried some more, and even more.
I cried until I had no more tears left, and then I felt so tired that I couldn’t even think straight. I took a deep breath, started the car, and drove the rest of the way to his house. I knocked on the door a few times, and as soon as it opened, I didn’t even wait to figure out who had opened it, I just buried my face in the chest of the person in front of me and clung to their body with all the strength I had left.
The person in front of me gently pushed me back. Colby looked at me with concern, his eyes softening as he take in my state. He pulled me into another hug, allowing me to stay there as long as I needed. After a while, we separated.
He locked the front door and explained that he was home alone, but Sam would probably be back later if I wanted to talk to him too. We sat on the living room couch. Colby hesitated to ask what happened, due to my state. I took a deep breath, removed my sneakers, crossed my legs on the couch, and mindlessly played with my fingers while I told him what happened, without looking at him.
-He cheated on me. — I said, simply and directly, my voice slightly hoarse and still filled with sadness.
Colby's eyes widened in shock, and he quickly stood up, stopping in front of me.
-What?? —His voice carried anger.
He was in disbelief, caught off guard by my confession, but it was clear how furious he was.
I remained silent, unable to repeat the phrase that had already been so difficult to say out loud.
-He’s a damn idiot for cheating on a girl like you. Fuck, I want to punch him so bad right now. —Colby ranted, pacing from one end of the room to the other.
It was hard not to break down right there, but it was even harder to cry in front of someone else. Despite having cried in front of Colby before, I didn’t want to shed tears for someone who didn’t deserve them.
-I don’t want to remember it anymore. Can we talk about something else, please? I just need a distraction. —I said, frustrated.
Colby looked at me, the anger gradually turning into understanding. He took a deep breath to calm himself and nodded, extending a hand to help me up before pulling me into another hug.
-Yes, of course. Whatever you want. —He said, his tone softer now.
He stroked my hair with one hand and my back with the other. We stayed like that for a while, not saying anything, just appreciating the closeness. After a few minutes, he pulled away just enough to look into my eyes, studying me carefully, trying to understand my feelings. It looked like he was examining every detail of my face, maybe to gauge how I was doing, simply out of concern.
Colby gave me a small smile, cupping my cheeks with his hands and leaving a gentle caress there. His gesture made me smile back, and I looked at him as attentively as he looked at me.
Without saying anything or even preparing me for his next move, he pressed his lips on mine in a delicate, quick kiss, pulling away in less than five seconds, afraid of my reaction.
I stared at him, not angry, not irritated, not disappointed, just extremely confused.
-You said you needed a distraction. —He explained, his voice low and hesitant, as if he still wasn’t sure if he should have done that, if it had worsened the situation or possibly helped.
I think about what he said. Colby and I had shared a few kisses before at parties when I was single, and he was too. But, at parties, we were in a more appropriate setting for friends to just kiss spontaneously without needing any justification, purely out of desire or a “fuck it” moment.
And now, despite not being at a party, I was upset, heartbroken, and genuinely needed something to take my mind off things. So, the “fuck it” moment happened, and I leaned in to kiss him again.
What was supposed to be just a quick peck, turned into something more when he decided to deepen the kiss and brush his tongue against mine. It was the first time we kissed for real. It wasn't just a simple touching of lips, but a true tongue battle, with our heads slightly tilted to opposite sides.
His hands moved to my hips, pulling me closer, and I wrap my hands around his neck, playing with his hair. He was a good kisser, the synchrony of our mouths was perfect, and the distraction was working way too well, until he pulled away, with a smug smile on his face.
-Do you feel distracted yet? —He asks, in a sarcastic tone, like he wanted to find a way to provoke me as he always do. I roll my eyes with a small smile on my lips, not even thinking twice before responding.
-I think I'm not distracted enough.
He pulled me into another kiss, even more intense than the last one. Gradually, he took two steps back, sitting down on the couch, with his legs slightly open, his eyes focused on mine.
He pulls me by the hands, making me sit on his lap, each leg of mine on one side of his body.
We went back to kissing, not even giving ourselves time to process what we were doing. It felt so natural, as normal as a routine, it felt comfortable enough that I didn't even wonder if I should be making out with my best friend.
The kiss became deeper, more intense. Colby moves his hands to my ass, pulling me even closer, making me feel his already hard member through his sweatpants. In an automatic action, I move my hips, grinding on him and making him separate the kiss to let out a loud sigh.
Our gazes met once again, his pupils were dilated, his eyes looked different, the tension in the air was almost palpable.
He squeezes my ass, making me gasp, and a smile appears on his lips. I didn't know when Sam was going to come back home, I only knew that this was in fact happening when I felt my shirt being pulled off my body and thrown on the floor.
Fortunately for me I wore a nice bra today, which matched my panties. My idea was that someone else would see it, but it didn't happen as I expected.
I didn't know how to feel when my thoughts went to how slutty I was to let someone else see me that way so quickly after my break up, but considering that I trust Colby with my life, and it was visible how fascinated he was, I couldn't case less.
His eyes scan my body, his fingers lightly moving at my sides, almost shyly, feeling my skin. But he wasn't shy, it was obvious from the way he was basically eye fucking me.
- I really want to do this, but I don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of the situation to get in your pants. —He says. I smile, grateful that even though we were making out, he still thinks of me with respect.
I take one of my hands to his chin, lifting it with two fingers.
- I trust you. —My voice is firm, although it contains a certain sweetness.
He nods, getting the message, and kisses me again. In one quick motion, he takes off his own shirt, tossing it close to mine on the floor, wasting no time in exploring my exposed skin with his fingertips.
His lips trace kisses from my mouth to my neck, where he leaves some hickeys. My eyes remain closed, feeling every touch my best friend provided.
Without thinking too much, I run my fingers through his skin too, feeling every detail. Even though I've seen him shirtless before, this was different, it was another context and another occasion.
I let my fingers slide down to the waistband of his sweatpants, but before I could pull it down, he switches our positions, laying me down on the couch and doing what I planned to do, taking off his sweatpants and tossing it aside.
He does the same with mine, his eyes looking me up and down, his lips finding mine to another kiss.
Our glued bodies, the friction between our skins and the last pieces of clothing are reasons enough for us to understand that we were crossing a line. Even so, neither of us took the time to stop and ask if we were sure, it was obvious from how unable we were to stop. From the fact that I was already hot, my panties soaked and how hard he was.
There was no room for questioning.
Slowly, Colby's hands find the clasp of my bra, gently taking it off. He stares at my boobs for a few seconds, his mouth agape like he was seeing the best work of art of all times in front of him.
-So beautiful. —He mumbles, before bringing his lips to my nipples and leaving wet kisses there.
He squeezes my other boob with his free hand, making me gasp, which gave him even more confidence to continue.
He gave the same attention to the other nipple, gradually moving his kisses to my belly, stopping just before my panties, looking up and smiling before letting his fingers curl around the elastic.
Even though I didn't say a word to stop him, his eyes asked for my permission, and I answered him only with a quick nod.
He took off the last piece of clothing that covered my body, my skin completely exposed to the eyes of my best friend. A wave of nervousness hits me, making me somewhat anxious about the situation I got on.
Colby leaves light kisses on the inside of my thighs, getting closer and closer to where I wanted, taking his time to tease me. When finally his lips make contact with my sensitive area, his tongue tracing a line from my entrance to my clit, a small moan of pleasure escapes my mouth.
-Mhm, Colby, please... -I whine.
It only served to boost his ego, his tongue moving faster and more precise, my hips moving involuntarily against his mouth, his hands firm on my thighs as he kept his head in between my legs, making me completely forget how strange and maybe even wrong it was that I was so easily surrendering to another person.
-Colby... - His name comes out low, in a small plea for him not to stop, one of my hands intertwining in his hair and pulling him closer, my back arching on the couch.
Even though I can't see, I feel a smile forming on his lips, one of his hands sliding down my thigh. He slides a finger under his chin, pushing in and moving it at the same speed as his tongue.
A few moans come naturally from my lips, my hand holding his hair tighter, my head being thrown back and my eyes closing in pleasure. It was almost impossible not to give in, all the anxiety I felt earlier going away with the knot that formed in my stomach.
-Colby, fuck, I'm... -I try to warn him, his voice interrupting me.
-Cum on my fingers, baby.
A feeling of tension followed by relaxation takes over my body and little by little he withdraws his finger and his tongue from me, looking at me intently.
My only reaction was to hold his face and pull him in for a kiss, feeling my own taste. My hands move until I managed to get the last piece of clothing off his body, leaving us equally naked. I use one of my hands to feel him, his veins pulsing in my fingers, the tip hot and red. The sigh coming out of his lips as he feels my hand working on his member, not letting me continue until I'm done as he uses one of his hands to hold both of mine above my head, his other free hand lining up his member at my entrance and thrusting it all at once.
I bite my lips, trying not to scream when I feel the burning sensation and light pain before I got used to his size, a shaky moan leaving my throat. Colby continues to hold my hands, the other now at my waist, his face buried on the curve of my neck.
-Harder... -I plead, his head tilting so he could see me, a smirk on his lips.
-Yeah? Want me to be rough with you? Fuck you dumb? -His thrusts were faster and harder now, with each thrust he'd get balls deep into me, hitting all the right places.
-Please, please, fuck, Colby. -I cry out as he lets out a cocky laugh.
I didn't even tried to keep my moans low and quiet, they already came out loud and frequent, some curses and pleading being constant acts at this point.
The phrases I never thought I would hear coming from him, and from me to him, were the touches of reality that showed me that it was real, it was happening, I was enjoying it, and that, for some reason, my best friend was making me feel more pleasure than my ex made me feel in all the months we were together.
My fingernails had left marks on his back, but he didn't seem to care.
-Turn around. -He groans, pulling out and turning my body so I was in all fours.
I didn't even had a chance to speak before he was burying his dick inside of me once more, the new position making me feel him even deeper than before. Tears were already starting to form on my eyes.
He grabs my hair, keeping me up, leaning to whisper in my ears.
-Such a good girl for me, letting me fuck you like this.
I whine at his words, my legs shaking and another orgasm building up quickly in my stomach.
-Gonna cum for me again, pretty girl? —He asks, leaning down to kiss my shoulder.
I couldn't even speak at this point, so all I do is hum in affirmation, moans getting louder and louder.
-Hold it. —His demand was low and firm, and my eyes widen in surprise.
-C-Colby, fuck, can't, please, I need it so bad, please, please. —I look over my shoulder, catching his smirk before he pushed my head down onto the cushion and slapped my ass harshly.
-Cum with me, baby.
He slaps my ass one last time and my orgasm snaps, making me release all over his dick with a loud moan of his name. I feel him pulling away and shooting his load on my back, making me whine.
×××
We were already both lying down, next to each other, recovering the air and energy we had expended in the last few minutes, in silence, which was only broken by my laughter.
-I can't believe we did that.
He laughs along with me, shaking his head in denial and sitting up. Colby picked up all of our clothes on the floor, and handed me mine carefully, helping me up next.
-Wanna take a shower? —He asks, with caution in his voice like he wanted to proceed carefully from now on.
I nod my head, and he helped all the way through. The affection he showed was genuine, and I appreciated that very much, especially now.
After we are properly cleaned and in comfortable clothes, we lie down on his bed and he pulls me closer. I put an arm and a leg around his body, getting comfortable, and he wraps his arm around me, hugging me back. I rest my head on his shoulder, feeling his hand playing with my hair.
We stayed like this, no need to talk about what happened, just enjoying each other's company, until Sam arrived. I had to say, once again, the story of my breakup, but I didn't feel so sad to tell it anymore. Not while Colby held my hand and listened to everything intently, giving me the assurance that he would be there whenever I needed him.
a/n: I'm not sure how to feel about this one 😭
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Text
kinda tmi I think but I'm feeling very insecure about my boobs like they're not perky.
double ds that sag basically and I just wondered if I could request eddie helping insecure reader?
Requested by anon.
Fluffy, insecurity, sweet Eddie. He's so sweet and soft for you, Mdni, 18+
💌❤️
For the last few months or so you had been feeling insecure. It started small at first, you wouldn't like the way your breasts looked in a certain outfit but then it escalated to hating the way they were beginning to sag just a little bit, less perky than what they used to be.
And that was fine, it came with growing older, you knew that but you were only human so you couldn't help feeling insecure and trying to hide that insecurity from your boyfriend Eddie.
That didn't work for very long as Eddie was annoyingly perceptive and could tell you were struggling with something.
You were worried to tell him because what if he thought the same? It hurts your heart to think about it but you knew you would have to say something eventually.
It comes to a head one night as the two of you are slowly making love, you're tense and Eddie is looking down at you his eyes full of love and worry.
"What's wrong sweetheart?" you shake your head, trying to lose yourself in the moment, Eddie stops and strokes your cheek, searches your gaze and softens when he sees the anxiety there.
"Princess, what is it? Something's bothering you, what's wrong?" tears roll down your cheeks and Eddie's eyes widen in worry, he wipes your tears away and soothes you, whispering soft words of love.
"Um I've just been feeling a little off, my boobs look saggy and it's been in my head for a while now" he kisses you and moves down to kiss and caress your breasts.
"They are beautiful sweetheart, absolutely fucking perfect" he sighs softly and you wipe the tears away from your face as words like "Gorgeous" "Perfect" and "Amazing" is said to you.
"I love you and I love your breasts and your smile, the fact you make me so ridiculously fucking happy, I love everything about you and especially the twins"
You snort with laughter and hold Eddie close to you, "You nicknamed my boobs the twins?" He nods looking so proud of himself and you giggle. God you loved this man.
"Yup and I love them Princess, and I'll spend every day helping you love them again too"
"Even if they aren't as perky as they used to be?" you ask softly, Eddie's eyes widen and his soft expression turns serious.
"Especially so, you're perfect to me" he holds your gaze and you can see the sincerity in his eyes.
"You're beautiful princess. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and I'll spend all my life making sure you know that, I love you so much" You smile and kiss Eddie, the two of you spend the whole night wrapped up in each other.
❤️
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indecenthoney · 3 days
Text
Five more minutes...
----------------------------------------------
Don't you fucking hate it when someone wakes you up on your day off? The one time. One time you get to finally sleep in and throw all the worries of the world into the trash. Just for someone to ruin it. I mean I understand having to wake up because of an emergency or a meeting. But to be woken up, so I don't sleep the day away? Bullshit. It's the fucking summer. Can't I get-
"Five more minutes... Pleassssse... Ugh... I know... I know it's way past afternoon... I intended on sleeping in, on purpose... Listen... I've been working my ass off at college and my crappy ass job for monthsss... Now that I'm finally back home... I think I deserve a little more shut-eye... Now... Get out of my room... or you're going to regret it..."
After some deliberation, I finally decided to head home during the summer. It definitely beats working my life away and going straight back into classes. I couldn't fathom taking another year of torture. Not to mention, I would finally be able to eat some home-cooked meals, catch up with friends, and possibly hit up a few bars. If I'm lucky, I might even be able to hook up with someone during my stay. Although, I forgot to factor in one teeny tiny detail. The sole reason I ever left in the first place. The demon that resided in my neighborhood now pestering me over a couple minutes in bed. That demon, or well childhood friend of mine had always topped me in every single thing I had ever done. At some point, you can get sick of always being compared to. Now that I'm back in town, she has nothing better to do than to dote on me. Constantly breathing down my neck over every single thing that I do. I'm starting to think she gets some kind of sick kick from parading me around like some sort of dog.
"Ughhhhh... Shut upppppppp... Don't you have anything better to do? It's been years... Get a boyfriend or something... Like... what're you hanging around here for? My mom asked you to... What? Dude... Okay, listen... We're adults now... You don't have to listen to every request they make... My mom only keeps you around hoping we finally get along again... Year after year she has tried to get us to reconnect... And we both know it's not going to happen... No... There are no buts in this situation... Just let it go... You don't have to kiss my parent's ass just to prove you're better than me... They know that... I know that... and you know that... You always joined all the clubs I was in to prove a point... I gain literally nothing from being with you... You're better than me... I get it... Happy? Now leave... Good night..."
Looking back at it, I was ashamed to act so out of character. I guess it really got to me after seeing her face after so long. The breaking point was when she had the audacity to try and pull the blankets off of me. Blinded by anger, I pulled and wrestled her onto my bed. The both of us flailing around without a word. After some time, I was able to completely pin her down. Her shirt disheveled and raised high enough to see her breasts. The blankets draped over us like a fort we had once made as kids. Our exhausted breaths heating the enclosed space around us. My morning wood placed atop her short shorts twitching eagerly along her.
"Well... I'll let you go as soon as you stop flipping out... Yeah yeah... You're still as annoying as ever... Huh? Excuse me... I'm the one that should be pissed... Bothering me so early in the damn morning... What are you freaking about now? What? It's just morning wood... It happens... Fucking perv... Yeah, you... Why're you staring so much...? Hahahah... You think this is because of you? You give yourself too much credit... You could never turn me on... Then again... It's been quite a while since I had any action... And hole is a hole... Right? Aw... Don't wanna? But you promised to take care of me... No? And what're you gonna do about it? Push me off with those frail arms? Sure you can beat me in everything else but at the end of the day... I'm still bigger than you..."
The tip of my cock pitched a tent so effortlessly. Every whimper or sign of resistance urged me to tease her even further. And in turn, the silence grew louder knowing she had no other choice but to take it. It was supposed to be a little scare. Or so I thought. But seeing that she was finally put in her place brought out a different side of me. To top it all off, the overwhelming sensation brought upon the back of my head grinding against her needy cunt was just insatiable. Poking my tip against her opening only for pieces of cloth to divide me from theoretical heaven. It drove me crazy. Even if it was her. Even if she did annoy the living fuck out of me, I couldn't quite help myself. I would be lying if I didn't find her the least bit attractive.
"Hey now... Hush... Any louder and they'll hear us... What would my family think if they found you moaning like an absolute slut? Aww... And what're you gonna do about it? Tell? Thanks to you... I honestly have nothing to lose... They already see me as a failure... What's one more fuck up? Stop? Why? Is Little Miss Perfect getting wet? No? Then why don't we take these off? And have ourselves a little look... Not wet? Really? You promise? Then you have nothing to hide, do you? Well... A little too late for that... I'm not going to take the word of a liar... You heard me... Lying to my face... Right right... Sooooo this wet spot on your shorts is all my imagination, huh? Really? Then what's this? Hahaha... You're absolutely soaked... Fuck..."
Upon exposing her dirty little secret, she sought solace in the palms of her hands. Retreating as much as she could from my line of sight. Her bare cunt leaking and in full view, awaiting the endless ridicule that was to befall her. But to her surprise, there was no bullying. No jab. Nor sly compliment. Nothing. She peeked through spread fingers, only to find my lips pressed against hers. Soft kisses woven and sealed. Each one more welcoming than the last. And in time, her advances were all her own. Clinging so desperately to that addictive rhythm. Kiss. Lick. Suck. Mindlessly waltzing between each before falling victim to her own bliss. To her realization, I had long stopped my approach; watching her enjoy herself. She soon crumbled under her embarrassment.
"Having fun, are we? Hahahah... Hey hey... C'mon there's nothing to be embarrassed about... What's with the hostility? It's just a few kisses... Whatttt? I'm not saying anything... Me? A tease? Never.... Get off? Wowwwww... So rude... After all that eager kissing? You really are heartless... And here I thought we were finally hitting it off... Hahahah... C'mon bestie... What's five more minutes? Hm? Hahahah... God... It was just five minutes... You couldn't give me five... fucking... minutes.... Now look at you... Hahahah... Pathetic... You did this to yourself, hun... Now I'm gonna have you take responsibility for it..."
My body lined along hers; her sight fixed on the drip and drop of my my own saliva coating my member. A quick concoction of spit and juices. With pressed thighs, my cock fit so perfectly betwixt her. A constant, yet steady motion of thrusts, leading me to leak pre-cum in the process. And still, her eyes fixated on the comings and goings of my cock eagerly fucking her thighs. Her face tainted with shades of red. Hastening my rhythm. There sudden bursts of moans took place as the tip snagged along her clit. All due to the animalistic type of fucking that was prone to error. To thrust and fuck without remorse only to catch and chase that orgasm I so desperately needed.
"Look at us finally getting along... Who would've thought it'd take fucking your thighs for us to stop bickering? What's with the look? Shouldn't you be happy? You can finally be of some use... With thighs this soft, I might get addicted to using you... Mmph... Fuck... I'm so close... Hey... I want you to clean it up... You heard me... Open your mouth and let me shoot it in... We can't go downstairs with you covered in cum, can we? Unless that's what you're into... Hahahah... No? Fine fine... I guess I'll just stick it in... Save us the mess, right? You don't want that either? Well, you better make up your mind cause I'm close... Mm... Oh? Atta girl... Stick that tongue out... F-fuck... Mmph... Look at me... Yeah, I want you to fucking look at me... There we go... You ready? Yeah? Ughh... Fuck..."
A trail of cum ran down her tongue and through the valley of her breasts. Hesitant fingers glided down licking up each and every drop of me. An unknown side that came so naturally to this prim and proper girl. Despite her reserved demeanor, she would flawlessly complete such a degrading task. In awe, I wanted more of her. To see more of her. Yet we were suddenly interrupted by the thundering footsteps that seemed to be heading to my room. I quickly put on the clothes I had on the night before. Instructing her to stay hidden under the covers until the coast was clear.
"Just follow my lead, alright? Oh! Hey mom... We were just about to head down... I know I know... But we were talking and... we decided to start over again... I thought it was really sweet for her to get me in the morning... so I invited her to hang out with me during the summer... It's actually a good thing she was here cause I can't get outta bed even with an alarm... Right? Isn't she the sweetest? So responsible... So yeah... She's going to drop by every morning and wake me up... Mhm! Alright alright Mom... No need to get emotional... We're good now... Oh! Her? She was just feeling a little dizzy... I'm making her rest for a few before we head down... Yeah, I'll take care of her... Mhm mhm... Yeah... Okay! See you in few minutes... Hahahah... That was close... C'mon, get yourself cleaned up... I don't know about you but... I'm looking forward to tomorrow morning..."
And won't you look at that, this is starting to look like a very promising summer.
---------------------------------------------------------
With much love,
Honey
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cloudwhisper23 · 2 days
Text
I'm too lazy to format, so if you want proper formatting on this, I've posted it on Ao3! This is a continuation from the last art trade I did with @pixlokita about their Werebunny Jeremy AU (we've decided to call it Cut Right Through Me)
Below the cut is the link to the story on Ao3, and the full part that I just completed! Fair warning, this is a pretty decent length, roughly 9k words. Enjoy!
“You’re mean, you know that?” Jeremy said irritably as he dropped into the passenger seat.
“I don’t care. He’s dangerous, Jeremy.”
“Dangerous, yet you apparently have been calling him,” Jeremy muttered, slouching in the chair.
“To find you! Speaking of, where were you this week?”
“Around.”
“Not home.” Ramona shot him a glare as she backed out of the driveway. “Which by the way, I went to your house. It’s an absolute mess. And you know how to get bloodstains out of things-“
“I was going to get to it.” Don’t mention Percy, please don’t remind me. Jeremy wished he was back in Michael’s house, still being interrogated for being there. It was much better than the absolute grilling he was getting from his sister.
“You’re lucky I helped clean up,” Ramona sniffed. “And you owe me for Percy’s vet bills, by the way. I know you’re a disaster on a regular basis, but whatever crisis you had will not get you out of your responsibilities mister.”
“Vet bills?” Jeremy echoed, flinching slightly when she mentioned Percy.
“Yeah, I had to take Percy to the vet. Some animal must���ve broken into your house after you ran off or something because he was hiding in your room scared out of his wits and covered in dried blood. He’ll be fine, but honestly. What could’ve been so important that you ran off and left Percy to fend for himself?”
“I didn’t know Percy survived,” Jeremy answered quietly.
“Well, you should’ve checked,” Ramona replied grimly. “He’s only still alive because I went to find you.”
“Yeah…” Jeremy pulled his shirt up over his head to bury the way his eyes were swimming. Everything was just too much for him right now. “Can you just- Can we go back to your house? I don’t think I can go home right now.”
“That’s where we’re headed,” Ramona answered gently. “I’m sorry to yell at you, Jer. I really am. I was just worried.”
“I know…” Jeremy rubbed his face into the soft fabric of the shirt. He wished he could’ve had a chance to apologize or make some kind of effort to befriend Michael before they’d abruptly left. “If it helps, I hardly remember anything from the last few days.”
“I noticed.” Ramona’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Hey, maybe we could go visit Becky for a bit. I know it’s been a while since I’ve seen her. I’m guessing you haven’t seen her lately either.”
“I can’t,” Jeremy said softly. He didn’t know when he’d transform again, and he couldn’t bear to have it happen around his family, not when he knew that Becky would dig straight for the cause of it, probably making him have to go through it longer than he wanted anyway. He wanted to have something for his friend to work with when he shared the problem.
Or maybe he wanted to handle something himself for once.
“Jer, are you sure? Not to push you or anything, but I’m probably going to head there at the end of the week. I was already planning the trip before you vanished, and now that you’re back-“
“I wouldn’t want to stop you from going,” Jeremy interrupted firmly. “I need to finish up some loose ends around here before I’d go. But if you could take Percy with you, I’d appreciate it.”
Maybe it would be best to just disappear. To be hunted and killed like the monster he was while Ramona was out of town. While she was safe.
“If you’re sure,” Ramona said, sounding hesitant still. “I’ll take Percy with me. I’m sure Becky misses him as much as he probably misses her.”
“Well, he is the son of her old dog. I’d be surprised if she didn’t miss him,” Jeremy answered, finally peeking out of his shirt.
“You’re such a big baby sometimes, Jeremy,” Ramona said softly, shaking his shoulder. “We’ll get you sorted out. Maybe find you a man to help you relieve your stress. You certainly need that-“
“Stop, stop. We’re not having this conversation-“
“If you just tried to have a relationship-“
“I thought you were all about not having a man to rely on for everything,” Jeremy countered.
“Well, I have different biases.”
“You only agreed because Becky said it first,” Jeremy accused, elbowing his sister.
“Hey, no assaulting the driver. Besides, I never said you have to rely on him for everything. Just… some things.”
“I’m less shallow than you,” Jeremy replied, huffing as he returned his gaze to the window.
“Oh, I doubt that. I saw the way you were eying up Michael. You wanted him,” Ramona teased.
“Oh, come on, I’m allowed to think a guy is hot, Mona! And he’s-“
“Just your type. Except I don’t think his personality is right for you. He’s too bitter, too grouchy. Not good enough for my little ball of sunshine.”
“I have four inches on you,” Jeremy argued.
“Not where it counts,” Ramona hummed in reply. “But seriously. I’m going to emphasize this, so pay attention. Don’t you dare go pining after Michael Afton.”
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “I think you already burned that bridge too badly to rebuild.”
“Good. But if there’s still a silver of doubt in your mind, I’m going to update you on everything once we get home. That man has a bloody history.”
“So you’re calling him some kind of monster?” Jeremy scoffed. “Come on, he called you right away when he found me, didn’t he?”
“How do we know it was right away? Maybe he drugs people for kicks and-“
“Just because I don’t remember the last few days does not mean I don’t remember last night. And nothing happened! We didn’t have sex, I promise you.”
“Mhm,” Ramona sounded unconvinced. “If you say so.”
“I’m never going to get you to believe me on any of this stuff, am I?” Jeremy groaned hiding his face as it burned. He shouldn’t be thinking of Michael in that context, especially now. “You’re so mean to me.”
“I love you too, Jeremy.”
Jeremy went to take a nap when he got to his sister’s apartment, crashing immediately on the couch. He needed to fix his sleep for work later that night anyway.
Ramona dragged him away from his nap to give him a bunch of information about the background of Fazbear Entertainment, and the whole reason she was suspicious of Michael. Clearly, she wasn’t done with their earlier conversation. She really doesn’t believe that I’ll leave it alone, Jeremy thought to himself as she dropped a bunch of newspaper clippings into his lap.
“He killed his little brother, Jeremy.”
“Allegedly.” Jeremy’s eyebrows furrowed as he skimmed the newspaper.
“And his father killed a bunch of kids back in 1985. At the same location you’ve been working at.”
“They never proved that,” Jeremy argued. He shoved the paper away, avoiding looking at the image of Evan Afton. The kid gave him an uneasy feeling.
“You can’t deny the evidence. Just because they weren’t convicted of murder doesn’t mean they didn’t kill anyone.”
That’s exactly what that’s supposed to mean, actually. Jeremy’s mouth thinned. He gave the newspapers back to his sister. “Okay, fine. Whatever.”
“Jeremy-“
“Can I please just take a nap in peace?” Jeremy begged. “I don’t need this extra stuff.”
Jeremy was glad to be able to get away again later that day. He knew his sleep was skewed, and he’d probably be exhausted for work, but he didn’t care. That was one thing he could rely on to be consistent. They’d be fine so long as he clocked in on time and clocked out. And if the animatronics caught him off guard, so be it.
He’d missed enough shifts already, and even without his uniform, he’d be fine going into work. Who was going to see him anyway?
He clocked in early, fiddling with his flashlight as he started his patrol. It was considered dumb to do things like this, he knew, but he hadn’t had any issues with walking around during his shift yet. And even if he did, he doubted the animatronics could do much to him anyway, now that he remembered the incident with Toy Bonnie.
The only real question was whether or not that golden bear would come back to kick him out again, but since Jeremy had never seen the bear before that time, he guessed it was a very rare occurrence thing that only happened if an animatronic was hurt or damaged. Then why wouldn’t it be protecting Mangle?
Shaking the weird thought out of his head, Jeremy stepped into Parts and Service, hoping he’d see the glint of his keys somewhere on the floor. Fritz usually forgot to lock up, and Jeremy had taken up the habit of locking up behind him. Since he’d lost his keys the last time he’d been in for a shift, he figured they’d be around somewhere.
He found himself out of luck. Sighing, Jeremy checked that all the old animatronics were still on the floor. Bonnie was still around, and with a twinge of guilt, Jeremy spotted Toy Bonnie’s mangled remains tucked between Bonnie’s torso and his arm. Best not to think too hard about that, Jeremy told himself, turning the beam to the rest of the room.
The faintest rustling noise had Jeremy immediately back on his guard. He turned to see a locker door falling open, revealing a golden suit. His grip on his flashlight tightened as he stared at the golden rabbit costume. It didn’t seem to move much more.
Maybe it was something they used during the day shifts? They were short a Bonnie after all. Still, a golden variation seemed odd as it was on the complete opposite end of the color spectrum from the other two Bonnie models Jeremy had seen.
He was almost tempted to look closer it at, but he knew better than to mess with the animatronics. Especially after his run-in with Toy Bonnie. He did not want to stir up the crazy bear thing again, no thank you.
Shaking his head, Jeremy turned back toward the door. Then he hesitated. The red light on the security camera was blinking at him. Who was in the security office?
Deciding to forget the rest of his early patrol for now, Jeremy made his way back to the office to see a very grumpy Michael shining a flashlight down the hall at him, a small boy also looking at him from a perch on top of the desk.
“Uh… hi?” That’s not Scott, Jeremy’s mind supplied. The realization hit him a moment later as he recognized the boy from Ramona’s newspaper clippings. Evan Afton.
His eyes seemed almost hypnotizing as he glared at Jeremy. “Huh. So you did survive then. Fancy that.”
“I… thanks?” Jeremy finished making his way into the office, weary of the kid on the desk. “Do I know you?”
Evan snorted. “Don’t be stupid. No.”
“Oh. Okay?”
Michael made an impatient noise. “Jeremy, don’t just stand in the doorway like a lost animatronic. Sit down if you’re going to bother me.”
“Right. Sorry.” Jeremy hurriedly went to sit down in the rusty folding chair next to Michael. “How did you know I’d be here?”
“I didn’t. That chair has just been here every shift I’ve worked,” Michael answered, checking through the cameras. “I can’t believe you’re insane enough to do that though.”
“Do what?”
“Go into Parts and Service. Cassidy doesn’t like it when people come in there,” Evan supplied. “Nobody’s supposed to go in there at night.”
“It’s part of my patrol,” Jeremy said defensively.
“You’re insane for doing a patrol in the first place!” Michael exclaimed. “I thought you’d broken in or something, and I was going to handle it, but Evan said that’s Cassidy’s job. Which, you had to be testing her patience with how long you stuck around in there.”
“I feel like I should be worried.”
“You should be.” Evan assessed him as Michael went back to focusing on the cameras. “I thought the rabbit thing killed you, you know.”
“Should I know what you’re talking about?” Jeremy asked, uncomfortable as the ghost boy studied him. He made Jeremy exceedingly uneasy, and he couldn’t describe why.
A helpful thought decided to interject for a moment, thankfully making him feel a little bit safer. Michael couldn’t have killed his brother. Otherwise, why would they be working together like this?
“Yeah.” Evan tossed a crumpled hat into Jeremy’s lap. “This is yours, right?”
Startled, Jeremy scrambled to catch it, seeing the black stains spotting the rim and front of his hat. Because it was his hat, the one he’d been wearing the last time he transformed. Battered and covered in black oil and whatever that other fluid was, his hat was mostly still intact.
“Where did you get this?” Jeremy asked, smoothing it out to shove it back over his head.
Amused, Evan let out another scoff. “Do you even have a brain? I lost half mine, and I can still connect the dots.”
“His sister is much quicker than he is, that’s for sure,” Michael replied before Jeremy could sputter out a reply.
“You guys are mean.” Jeremy crossed his arms with a pout.
“If you’re going to be here, you can check the hallway and the left vent.” Michael tapped his flashlight, ignoring his words.
“Right, yeah okay.” Jeremy shone the beam of his flashlight down the hallway. “So, what? You’ve just been in the pizzeria the entire time?”
“Yeeep,” Evan answered, leaning across the desk to change the camera and wind the music box. “Most don’t usually live to see the sunrise after they’ve seen me though.”
“Lucky them,” Michael muttered, pulling the camera monitor out of his brother’s reach. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re a big grouch,” Evan retorted. He peered into the left vent. “Eugh, that stupid balloon kid is here. Scram!” His shout made whatever was in the vent squeal and scramble away.
Jeremy blinked. “So the animatronics are just scared of you?”
“Not all of them.” Evan answered with a meaningful look at the camera. “Just the insignificant ones.”
“Which translates to, all of them except the Puppet,” Michael added.
“I don’t scare Cassidy.”
“Cassidy’s not an animatronic, Evan.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Evan sighed. “She hates me.”
“I still doubt that.” Michael clicked to the Parts and Service camera, frowning. “You didn’t touch anything while you were back there, did you?”
“Not a thing. I was hoping to find my keys, but-“ Jeremy yelped as Evan tossed a set of keys at him. His flashlight crashed to the ground as he scrambled to catch them before they hit him. “Oh. Thanks, I guess?”
“You’re welcome.” Evan peered at the camera his brother was looking at. “You’re sure you didn’t touch anything?”
“I didn’t!” Jeremy protested, even as both brothers looked at him suspiciously. “I was tempted to touch the yellow rabbit guy when he fell out of that locker, but I didn’t, I promise.”
“Yellow rabbit?” Evan’s eyebrows scrunched. “I’ll be right back.”
Michael seemed worried too, his own mouth tightening into a thin line.
“What’s the deal with the… yellow rabbit?” Jeremy ventured to ask.
“Don’t worry about it I’m guessing you must not have seen him the night he was in here. Were you attacked by Toy Bonnie or something?”
“Uh, yeah.” Jeremy chuckled nervously, his spine prickling as he realized that they were probably talking about him. “But I can’t say I’ve seen any yellow rabbits before today.”
“Weird. Evan said he and Cassidy scared it off the last time.” Michael frowned deeper. “It crammed itself into a locker?”
“Well, I don’t know about that. But it was in a locker. I thought it was an animatronic though.”
“It is,” Michael supplied stiffly. “But it’s harmless. It shouldn’t be able to move at all.
“…” Jeremy opened his mouth to ask another question, but he didn’t know how to phrase it.
“Don’t worry about it, okay? Evan’s got it handled,” Michael replied sharply. “Just keep checking the vents.”
“Right, got it.” Jeremy retrieved his flashlight. “You seem to have a bad experience with it.”
“I guess you could say that,” Michael answered shortly. “And you really never saw it when Toy Bonnie attacked you?”
“Uh, nope. I remember working on my shift and then waking up naked in your house. That’s… about it…” Jeremy lied awkwardly.
“Hmm…” Michael didn’t seem too sure about that, but he let it go. “So you didn’t see the giant golden bunny in my house either?”
“Nope!” Jeremy scratched his neck nervously. “Do you think it was the same one Evan was worried about?”
“Can’t be,” Michael replied. “The one I saw was a literal rabbit. This one is animatronic. There’s no way those two are the same thing.”
“I suppose not.” Jeremy shrugged, regretting holding up this conversation. “You seem… less grouchy than earlier.”
Michael turned to Jeremy wearily. “I had a rough morning.”
“Yeah, no, I get that. I just… I wanted to apologize for my sister’s behavior this morning.” Jeremy cleared his throat. “And um. I was wondering if, like, there was a way to sort things out?”
“Oh, you mean about borrowing my clothes? Don’t even sweat it, I don’t need them back.” Michael returned his focus to his work.
“I know Ramona can be awful sometimes-“
“I don’t care about that, Jeremy.” Michael finally gave him proper eye contact, shooting a jolt up Jeremy’s spine. Damn, that was hot. “I don’t care that your sister thinks I’m a killer, or that she thinks my father is also a killer. I couldn’t care less, because she’s right.”
“Oh.” Jeremy shifted uncomfortably, surprised. “Who did you…?”
“Evan. My baby brother.” Michael turned away again, his voice leaving no room to continue the conversation. Jeremy struggled to find a way to resume it, but he couldn’t.
It was all too comforting when Evan reappeared to confirm that Jeremy hadn’t touched the suit.
“Cassidy can’t figure out why it would have moved,” Evan said, peering at the camera suspiciously. “Music box.”
“Stop telling me what to do,” Michael grumbled, but he wound the music box.
“Hey, so how did you die?” Jeremy asked, even though he knew the answer.
Evan raised a surprised eyebrow at him. “That’s such a brash question to ask a nine-year-old.”
“Yeah, but depending on how long you’ve been dead, technically you aren’t nine anymore.”
“Leave him alone,” Michael growled.
“You don’t need to coddle me, Mikey.” Evan rolled his eyes. “What year is it?”
“1987,” Jeremy supplied, pretending to be less afraid of the way Michael was glaring at him. He checked the hallway with his vent to try to divert attention. “It is November.”
“So I’ve been dead for like four years then. My dad killed me.”
“He did?” Jeremy raised an eyebrow at Michael, who scowled.
“He’s lying to you. I was the one who killed him.”
“The accident was an accident,” Evan argued. “You’re not a murderer, Mike.”
“I’m close enough to one,” he shot back.
“So wait, why would you say your father killed you?”
“Because he did.” Evan crossed his legs and peered at Jeremy. “I see why the others like you so much.”
“Uh, thanks?”
“You’re so…” Evan snapped his fingers, trying to think of the word. “Honest. Genuine. Something like that.”
“Candid, maybe?” Jeremy offered.
Michael made an irritated noise as Evan brightened. “That’s the word! Yeah, you’re just so candid and blunt about everything. It’s refreshing. No handholding or coddling.”
“I don’t coddle you more than you try to coddle me,” Michael grumbled.
“Anyway,” Evan shot a pointed look at his brother. “What actually happened was Mikey tried to play a prank on me regarding Fredbear. One of the animatronics of the original diner.” When Jeremy looked confused, Evan elaborated. “The first place wasn’t Freddy’s. Our father and Uncle Henry opened the business as Fredbear’s Family Diner. There were two original animatronics. Fredbear and Spring Bonnie.”
Michael made an impatient noise. “I stuck him in Fredbear’s mouth, and the bloody bear bit down on his head. It was my fault.”
“Your fault I was in the hospital, but not your fault I died,” Evan countered. “Michael was all about apologizing, promising to be a better brother if I just woke up. But when Father came to visit, he told me that this attention-seeking was ridiculous, that I should just open my eyes so the bad press would go away.”
Evan’s tone grew quieter, and even Michael paused, his expression softening. “He said that if I didn’t get up, I didn’t deserve to live. And then I was in the suit, with only Fredbear to keep me company.”
That’s the golden bear then, Jeremy thought. “So, your father is your killer?”
“Not just mine. All the missing kids too.” Evan shrugged. “We’d tear him to pieces if we could find him, but there’s only so many hours ghosts are awake.”
“Presumably only during this shift,” Michael added. “I don’t think Phil ever mentioned the haunted animatronics, and Ramona only mentioned rumors about them.”
Evan and Michael both didn’t seem very inclined to speak much after that. Michael did try to stop him when he went for his next patrol, but he didn’t care too much. The patrol was something he’d always done, and just because he was sharing a shift with someone in the office now didn’t mean he was going to stop doing it. It just gave him a longer time limit.
Maybe at some point he could ask about this mysterious ‘Cassidy’ that Evan kept mentioning. But for now, he checked corners and looked in the camera blind spots, knowing that most didn’t ever bother to check. Toy Freddy and Toy Chica didn’t seem too interested in leaving the stage tonight, which Jeremy was grateful for. The Puppet was sealed away, the music box wound tightly to keep the music playing.
And he remembered Evan’s words about Cassidy preferring to have people stay out of Parts and Service. Instead of entering the room, he just whispered at the door, “I’m trusting you to have everything handled in there Cassidy.”
A cold feeling enveloped him, and he shuddered as he walked away. It was weird to miss Mangle on a shift, but he supposed they wouldn’t come around while Evan was guarding the office. He checked the back door quickly to ensure it was locked and was glad to find that Michael had indeed locked it behind him.
“I wish I could complain about the job you’re doing here, but it seems to be fantastic,” Jeremy said with a sigh as he plopped back into his chair.
Michael raised an eyebrow at that, the constant frown relenting slightly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Got the door locked and everything. Better than Fritz does, anyway.”
“Door was already locked when I got here,” Michael said. “But I’ll take the compliment.”
Huh. Interesting. Jeremy was curious about Michael’s sense of humor though, so he poked a little more. “Of course, I can’t really give you all the credit, since it seems that Evan and Cassidy are the ones who are actually in charge around here. They just tolerate you.”
Evan snorted at that, covering his mouth as Michael’s expression returned to a scowl. “I don’t know that you can say you’ve been doing much either, Jeremy.”
“I’m not claiming to. But the animatronics like me, according to Evan, so I have a one-up on you.”
Michael shook his head, but he didn’t rise to the bait.
The rest of the night passed in somewhat stiff silence.
“See you tomorrow night, I guess. Fitzgerald.” Michael rose, offering a hand for Jeremy to shake.
“Same to you, dude.” Jeremy shook his hand cheerily, trying not to visibly wince as Michael crushed his hand in the shake. “Until next time, Afton-“
As soon as he started to say the last word, Michael shoved him back against the wall, covering his mouth. A thrill ran through Jeremy as pain shot up his back. He couldn’t help a startled whimper as Michael glared at him with icy blue eyes.
“Never call me that. Understand? Never.”
“I… I understand! Yep! Never going to call you that ever again, never ever!” Jeremy chirped back, knowing his enthusiasm was way more than the situation required.
“It’s Schmidt. Michael Schmidt.”
“Then… I’ll see you tonight, Schmidt.”
Michael rolled his eyes, pulling a stick of gum from his pocket to start chewing it before he walked out of the security office. Evan had disappeared somewhere around 5, so Jeremy remained to tidy up a tiny bit before walking out to his car.
Michael was still on the sidewalk, presumably going to walk home, and Jeremy did not accept that he was just going to be walking in the chilly air in only his work uniform. He drove alongside Michael, rolling down his window. “Need a ride home?”
“No.” Michael kept walking, not even glancing at the car. “I’m used to walking everywhere.”
“You could catch a cold!” Jeremy protested.
“Good thing I’m not the only one on shift then,” he shot back, blowing a bubble with his gum. “Go home, Fitzgerald.”
“Alright fine. But if you get sick, I’m going to say ‘I told you so.’”
“I’m so terrified of the threat,” Michael replied sarcastically. “Goodbye.”
Rude, Jeremy thought with mild annoyance. But this was progress from last time! Last time, Michael hadn’t had much to say except “fuck off,” so at least Jeremy got through it this time without that. And he’d also gotten information that Ramona hadn’t had, which meant she was wrong about Michael Afton.
“So ghosts are real?” Ramona pressed as Jeremy hung up the phone after receiving a call from his friend Sebastian.
He was so lucky Seb was willing to give him a discount, so lucky he was willing to do repairs without questioning things. Jeremy had already gotten rid of the couch and burned his old sheets. The last step to making the whole rabbit nightmare a forgotten memory was the torn flooring.
“Yeah. And Evan has a much better sense of humor than his brother.” Jeremy shot his sister a skeptical look. “You’re not surprised by anything else I said?”
“Like what? The kid forgiving his older brother? You said he was like nine?”
Jeremy didn’t know how to respond to that. She wasn’t wrong. But it didn’t feel like she was completely right either. “But-“
“Jer, you’re being dumb about all this. You need to think with your brain at least some of the time.”
“I am using my brain! I was asking all the questions I needed answers to.”
“Yeah? Then why are you still so blatantly defending Michael Afton?”
Because if he’s a monster, then so am I, Jeremy thought to himself, but he didn’t say it out loud. “Forget it.”
“Jeremy-“
“No, it’s not worth arguing about. But Evan gave me back my keys.” Jeremy stood up moodily. “It was nice talking with you, Ramona, but I gotta get some sleep before tonight’s shift.”
“Jer, what’s bothering you? You know you can tell me about it, right?” Ramona pressed.
“I know. I just don’t feel like getting into it right now. That’s all. Have a good day, Mona.”
“You too, Jer.” Ramona hesitated for another moment. “I’m here for you, if you need anything.”
“I know.”
Ramona shot him a worried look as she got through the door, careful to avoid catching her pants on the splintered wood that Sebastian was going to replace.
After his sister left, Jeremy stripped, unsure of what triggered him to turn into the rabbit. He didn’t want to ruin clothes that didn’t belong to him though, so he wasn’t taking chances as he went to rest properly for the first time in ages.
Michael let himself back into his house with a heavy sigh. That shift had been long. He undid his tie, ignoring the impatient meowing at his feet while he changed out of his work clothes. “Give me some time, Logan.”
Logan meowed again, pawing at his empty bowl.
“One second, Logan.” Michael pulled a new shirt over his head before giving the cat a scratch behind his ear. “I’ll get that bowl filled in no time.”
After feeding Logan, Michael was tempted to go out and look for the bunny again. Surely it couldn’t have gone far, right? Even if it had been gone for a day, maybe it was just hungry and hunting. Maybe it had tried to return while Michael was gone and couldn’t get back in. Maybe-
You’re overthinking this. God, you are such a freak Michael. Michael shook his head, walking toward the place where he’d last seen the rabbit. Maybe the dumpster was its home?
His hopefulness diminished as he approached the dumpster. He couldn’t see any sign of it anyway. Shoulders slumping, he prepared to walk back, so he could let Logan have his own walk.
A soft thumb behind him made him hesitate though. Michael turned, excitement growing as he saw the giant shape of the golden rabbit who’d appeared very suddenly. “There you are!” Michael exclaimed, beaming as he reached out for the bunny.
His new friend nuzzled into his hand immediately, rubbing its fluffy face against his hand. “I missed you buddy,” Michael whispered into the overwhelmingly soft fur.
A soft rumble in the bunny’s throat soothed him, making all the irritation and torment from the last day completely vanishing. “You can’t just disappear on me, you know,” Michael said, trying for a scolding tone.
The bunny thumped his back foot as a reply.
“What? Are you going to say you didn’t miss me? Because I think you’d be lying.”
The bunny nosed at his neck. A soft, wet feeling made Michael’s neck prickle in the cold.
“Is that a way of saying you did miss me?” Michael asked, scratching up behind the rabbit’s ear.
He stumbled a bit as the rabbit rocked forward, knocking him off-balance a little bit. The rabbit kept nuzzling him until he was completely knocked to the ground. Startled, he didn’t even attempt to get up before he was completely enveloped in soft, warm, golden fur.
“Hey, hang on a sec-“ Michael tried to protest before the bunny squished its head down over his, keeping him even more safely enveloped in warmth. “I need to let Logan out for a bit! You’re going to make it so a poor little kitty can’t stretch his legs, is that what you want?”
A grumbling noise resonated in the back of the bunny’s throat, but it let Michael get to his feet. “Thank you.”
Michael walked back, knowing that the bunny was going to follow him back this time. He didn’t even need to stress about it. Michael grabbed his mail from the box on his way back into the house, tossing the pile onto his table before shaking the harness to get Logan to come running.
“Time for your walk, you crazy cat,” Michael said, pretending to ignore the rabbit who’d opted to lurk on the front lawn instead of coming in this time. Maybe it likes to be free to roam, he thought to himself.
Logan was happy enough to take his walk, purring as they returned. Shortly after Michael walked through the door and started undoing Logan’s harness, the rabbit wriggled into the house, looming behind Michael.
After he’d shut the door, Michael let out a big yawn, rubbing his eyes briefly. Gotta check the mail first, he scolded himself as he yawned again.
Glancing at the top of the stack, Michael felt himself pale. It was another letter from his father, this time marked as urgent. He hadn’t even opened the last one, and now he was getting another? Michael was just grateful his father didn’t know his phone number, but then actual horror struck him. He could just come to my house.
Michael twitched, grabbing the letter so tightly the edges crinkled. With a solid grip, he ripped the envelope and the contents in half. The rabbit flinched, clearly not expecting such a violent action. Logan was unaffected, as usual.
He tossed the torn remains into his trash bin and stalked to his bedroom, trying so hard not to start trembling or crying. The bunny nudged the door open and sniffed at the edge of his bed. Michael patted the side of his bed, giving it permission to jump up. The bunny took the permission easily, pressing comforting warmth into Michael’s back as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.
“Why can’t he just leave me alone?” Michael sobbed quietly. “It’s bad enough knowing that I did something monstrous, but he does it on purpose. I bet he’s out there doing it to some other poor kids now, and I’m just not strong enough to stand up to him.”
The bunny rumbled out a growl at the blame Michael placed on himself, but it still soothed his pain with soft fur. He rolled over and buried his face properly into the fur, his fingers tangling into the strands. So soft, he thought to himself, tears dampening the fur of the bunny’s chest.
Not that it seemed to mind, pulling Michael closer as he started drifting off to sleep. “I just don’t get it…” Michael trailed off, finally relaxing enough to let go of consciousness.
Jeremy woke up with his arms wrapped around a sleeping Michael. Why am I not surprised? he thought to himself, carefully untangling himself from his sleeping coworker. He’d kill me if he knew I was here.
Unease sank into Jeremy as he realized he was yet again left to try to sneak out without clothing. But at least he was in Michael’s room this time, and he could just grab clothes without getting caught.
His foot hit something soft and warm, and a disgruntled meow made Jeremy realize the cat was also here. Oh shit. Directing a glare at the cat, Jeremy climbed out of the bed without causing the cat or Michael to wake up completely. The black cat nestled back into his paws, purring loudly as Jeremy snuck a new pair of clothing out of Michael’s drawer.
He left quickly, pushing open a window and crawling out of it, ignoring the pain that shot through his feet as he landed on rocks. Jeremy glanced around before hurrying toward his house, memorizing the address as he left the place.
He felt bad for ditching, but he also knew he could not just stay after all that. Not after how upset Michael had seemed the first time. Until he could control when he turned into a rabbit and maybe stay as a rabbit when around Michael, then he wasn’t taking any chances.
Back home, Jeremy slipped socks onto his feet and glanced at the time. He had plenty of time to spare before work, but he still couldn’t help but feel a bit antsy. I’m not supposed to know where he lives, Jeremy thought glumly.
The phone ringing pulled Jeremy away from spiraling in his obsession. Maybe Ramona was right about all that stuff anyway. “Hello? Jeremy Fitzgerald here.”
“Jeremy! What a pleasant surprise to hear your voice. No offense, but we all thought you were dead!”
“Yeah, that’s what Michael told me,” Jeremy chuckled nervously, wondering why Lloyd was calling him.
“Hey, you’re not too opposed to just sharing that shift with him, right? I mean, I know you said you absolutely did not want to have to deal with kids, and I completely understand. Michael had the same qualms about the shift, but this is the only shift where no one is stuck hanging around children. But you’re all good with that? You’re fine sharing the workload? It's probably better anyway, having two people check on the place during those hours. Keeps the place safer- I mean, more secure!” Lloyd blabbed on, talking so fast Jeremy could barely keep up with what he was saying.
“I’m okay with it. Is he?” Jeremy leaned back against the wall, a finger hooked absently into the phone cord. An excuse to spend more time with Michael? No way was he turning that down.
“Oh! Yeah, uh, he actually seemed more than happy to have someone else there. I guess he doesn’t have the same familiarity you have with the job yet. He’s probably a bit jittery about the atmosphere. You know, he’s never had a nighttime security job before, actually.”
“Lloyd, is that all you needed from me, or is there something else?”
“Oh, that’s it. Uh, except one thing. We found a bunch of the torn remains of your uniform. Did you want a new one? I’m guessing that you’ve been using the spare, but you should really have more than one.”
“By that logic, I should have at least three,” Jeremy pointed out. “In case one is misplaced or ruined, or another incident like the other night happens.”
“Can I ask what happened?”
“Toy Bonnie came after me. I don’t really remember what happened after that,” Jeremy replied swiftly. “I don’t need to fill out an incident report or anything do I? I mean, as far as I’m aware, no one got hurt.”
“Nobody was hurt in the incident. We didn’t actually know that until just now actually.” Lloyd laughed nervously. “No, we don’t need anything from you, don’t worry! It just would’ve helped us if you’d remembered something about Toy Bonnie attacking, or maybe Fritz coming in-“
“I don’t know anything about that, sorry.” Jeremy cleared his throat awkwardly. “But I can be in in a couple minutes if you have extra uniforms ready.”
“Oh! Yeah, I can totally do that. Yeah, if you come in before 6, I can totally get you set up with some new uniforms.”
“Great, I’ll see you at 5 then.”
“Fantastic!”
Jeremy hung up the phone feeling more awkward than ever before. At least he’d have a uniform again.
When he saw Michael at the next shift, he set out by tipping his hat at the other man. No response. Evan seemed a bit distracted today as well, somewhat of a frown crossing his face.
Jeremy sat down awkwardly in his chair, remembering Lloyd’s words from earlier. If he had to guess, maybe Michael had been relieved to have an excuse to make sure Jeremy wasn’t in any danger after all the personal risks he took at work.
“I’m going to do a patrol,” he announced abruptly, picking up his flashlight.
“Don’t die,” Evan said, peering over Michael’s shoulder.
“Right…” Jeremy looked at Michael hopefully, but the other man gave him no indication that he was going to say anything in reply.
The night was somewhat quiet. It was weird having the toy animatronics remaining onstage every night, and Jeremy almost wished they’d move so he could at least know that Toy Bonnie hadn’t been a fluke. Even Mangle hadn’t sought him out since he’d turned, presumably too afraid of him now to approach.
It made sense, considering how Percy was taking the exact same approach with him, but it still stung to know that his dog and his favorite animatronic no longer seemed to see him as a safe person. Even Evan didn’t trust him in that form, if Jeremy’s memory served correctly.
Nobody saw him as more than a monster aside from Michael. Was that why he was so magnetized to the other man? Physical attributes aside, Michael seemed well-guarded, not trusting other people. But he seemed to have a secret affection for animals. Even with the amount he swore at his cat, he seemed to love the cat enough to care for it when he was not in the mood to care for the poor thing.
Sighing, Jeremy started to head back toward the cold atmosphere of the main office. He stopped upon hearing what sounded like sobbing coming from Parts and Service.
“Hey, everything okay in there?” Jeremy asked, hoping for a gentle tone.
“No!” The door flew open, nearly hitting Jeremy in the face, and he couldn’t help but flinch at the small girl glowering at him with thick black tear streaks running down her face. “He’s come back, and I can’t stop him!”
“Who came back?” Jeremy asked, crouching down to her level. “Sorry for asking, but I seem to be a bit out of the loop.”
“You take things more seriously than most,” she huffed. Then she blinked at him. “Wait, you’re that security guard guy. We all thought you died!”
“That seems to be the common consensus,” Jeremy sighed. “But who came back? Clearly he’s no one good if you are unhappy about it.”
“No. He killed me, and he’s gonna kill more kids.”
“Oh.” A prickle of fear made Jeremy tremble a bit at that. “When did he come back?”
“Not too long ago. We didn’t notice the changes in his suit, but-“ she glanced at the darkened area for a moment. “Here, I’ll just show you.”
Cold fingers wrapped around Jeremy’s wrist, and he was startled to discover that apparently ghosts could in fact touch people.
“So, originally, he was in that locker there, right?” the girl gestured at the locker Jeremy had originally spotted the animatronic at.
“Yeah…”
“Well, he’s not anymore. Now he’s on the floor over here,” Cassidy pointed directly at where the golden bunny suit was slumped next to the old Freddy model.
“Oh. And this suit’s not possessed right? Nobody should be moving it?”
“No one should be moving it. Employees can get fired for touching it, much less moving it. And I haven’t seen it move on its own.”
“Ghosts can only do things at this time of night…” Jeremy trailed off thoughtfully. “You think it’s the same guy who killed you?”
“I know it is. I had to ask a bunch of times to get anywhere with Evan. That kid is so tight-lipped, I swear.” The girl shook her head. “But apparently, this suit here can only be activated by a key. One person had that key.”
“Your killer.”
“William Afton,” she confirmed. “At least, that’s what Evan says, but he’s been wrong about so much lately, that I’m just worried he’s wrong about that too.”
“Did you try asking Michael?”
“Evan doesn’t think I should talk to the security guards.” The girl shrugged. “He thinks I’ll just kill you guys. But I’m not that murderous. I still have a brain, unlike some people.”
“So you must be Cassidy?”
“Yep.” Cassidy sighed. “I mean, I don’t want to complain because it makes sense that Evan wants to spend time with his brother, but I miss being able to roam the pizzeria freely. Ever since Toy Bonnie got dinged, I’ve been checking in here to make sure Spring Bonnie hasn’t been used. I think we scared him off pretty well though.”
“Spring Bonnie…?”
“The yellow rabbit suit,” Cassidy pointed, rolling her eyes. “Oh! One more thing. I know you’re like, nocturnal or whatever like we are. But you can actually wake up during the day. Could you like, keep an eye out for someone wearing the suit?”
“I mean, I suppose. Did Evan bring that up to Michael?”
“I doubt it. He hates the idea of getting you guys involved.” Cassidy wrinkled her nose. “Something about trying not to cause more deaths than necessary, but he’s not going to kill an adult out in the open like that. I think it’s fine.”
“Huh. Okay. I mean, I can try…”
“Whatever works.” Cassidy seemed satisfied, finally noticing the red light on in the camera. “Oh! Say cheese!”
“That’s a live feed, Cassidy. It’s not a picture camera.”
“You’re no fun.” Cassidy stuck her tongue out at him. “Bye bye for now. I’ll expect results later.”
“I hope I’ll have results for you.”
“That’s the spirit!” Cassidy said cheerfully before disappearing.
Resigning himself to the blinking light of the security camera, Jeremy went back to the office. If he hadn’t been sure before, Evan’s scowl told him plenty about what he needed to know.
“What were you thinking?” Evan hissed, his eyes so dark there was absolutely no color aside from the darkest of dark pits.
“Uhh…”
“She could’ve killed you!”
“She dragged me in there!” Jeremy said in protest.
“Did she now? Maybe she’s just lonely because she lost her best friend.” Michael shot a pointed look at his brother.
“Cassidy can’t stand me,” Evan scoffed, but he let up on Jeremy a little bit. “What did she want?”
“Help with her little investigation into Spring Bonnie.” Jeremy dropped into his chair and peered at the camera monitor in Michael’s hands. “Still no animatronic movement, huh? Almost like they were told to stay put.”
He raised an eyebrow at Evan. The kid rolled his eyes, the frown not relenting. “Toys aren’t our thing. We watch over the others.”
“So the toys not moving is also suspicious behavior?” Jeremy asked. “Hey, not to be dumb or anything, but how much did your dad work with the animatronics?”
“He helped create them, so a pretty significant amount,” Michael answered. “Evan, I just think you should make up with her.”
“There’s nothing to make up! She doesn’t want anything to do with me, and that’s fine. I’ll stay out of her space, and she can take care of the others!”
“She said you told her to stay in Parts and Service,” Jeremy said.
“You’re going to believe her over me? Mikey, you can’t believe this, surely!”
“I mean, I don’t know what to believe. I’ve never spoken to Cassidy before, and if its your word or Jeremy’s, then I’ll take your word for it. But I do still think you should try to resolve this conflict you have with her-“
“Think what you want then! I don’t care!” Evan’s eyes flashed before he abruptly vanished.
Jeremy sat in stunned silence as Michael just continued checking things. “Well that was…”
“He’s just pouting. We’ve had this argument before, don’t worry.” Michael didn’t glance over at Jeremy as he talked. “So, Cassidy let you off with a warning or something I’m guessing?”
“I already said she dragged me in. She wants me to go in during the day and look out for a guy in a rabbit costume.”
“That could only be one person, you know,” Michael said grimly, sitting back to start giving Jeremy his attention. “My father only made one key for that suit.”
“Cassidy said that. She also seems a bit weary of taking information from Evan since he seems a little…”
“Mixed up?” Michael shrugged. “Yeah, don’t put too much stock in what he says. I don’t think he fully knows where he’s at.”
“That’s fair, I guess…” Jeremy wasn’t fully appreciative of that response. “So, you still think your dad killed those kids?”
“Without a doubt. He was always a bit more bitter when he had to deal with them, and if the other kids say it was the golden bunny man, then who am I to say they’re wrong? It makes sense.” Michael shook his head. “I still don’t understand what kind of monster could willingly decide that kids couldn’t get to live their lives though.”
“A kind that’s actually a monster as opposed to someone who thinks of himself as one?” Jeremy offered.
Michael turned his gaze on Jeremy lazily. “I know what you’re trying to do.”
“Is it working?”
“Not more than Evan’s assurances. Listen, I made my peace with what I did a long time ago.”
“It doesn’t seem like it.” Jeremy laid a reassuring hand on Michael’s arm. “You didn’t mean it. There’s no way you and your dad are even remotely in the same league-“
“Yeah, but a monster is a monster, aren’t they? Killers are monsters, Jeremy. Simple as that.” Michael slipped his hand away and went back to the cameras. “It’s not like it’s possible to always spot a monster on the surface anyway. Maybe you’re just telling yourself I can’t be a monster because I don’t look like one.”
Jeremy stiffened at that. You don’t have to look like a monster to be a monster. Did that mean the opposite was true too? He wanted desperately to know the answer.
Michael tried to give him a smile. “Look, it’s no big deal, really. If you aren’t actively saying I’m following in my father’s footsteps, then I think things are okay, you know? Like, I may not really like you, but I don’t think you’re a complete twat.”
“Uh, thanks?” Jeremy didn’t know how to respond to that, instead shining his light into the vent to avoid the heat that rose to his face at what he was guessing was meant to be a compliment.
“Anytime.” Michael chuckled softly. “Looks like he’s going for a full night sulk tonight. Guess it’s just us now.”
“Think you’ll be able to handle the office once I go on my next patrol?” Jeremy asked teasingly.
Michael snorted. “With the animatronics the way they are? I’ll be more than fine.”
“Good to know.”
A few nights passed like this, Michael offering minimal conversation during the shift, Jeremy taking his time to do patrols and update Cassidy on what he saw during the days.
It wasn’t much more than he had during the night, but Cassidy seemed to appreciate it nonetheless. And if he showed up to work tired, then that was fine too. Michael would shake his head, and Evan was still pouting about his argument with Cassidy, so he didn’t care.
Still, he felt a little bit bad whenever he realized he’d nodded off, insisting that Michael wake him. And evidently, that was not happening every time it happened. It hadn’t hurt anything so far though, so Jeremy was willing to let it slide.
It had taken him ages, quietly arguing with Evan while Jeremy slumped in his chair, to convince his brother to try and work things out with Cassidy. Evan had been furious that Cassidy was putting Jeremy in harm’s way, but Michael thought he probably knew the risks of what he was getting into.
Why should Cassidy get the blame anyway? She wanted help, not to doom another man to die. And Evan had given plenty of warning, so Jeremy could’ve backed out whenever he wanted to, so it was fine. There was simply no need to keep blaming Cassidy.
Michael spared a glance away from his constant checking to look at the uncomfortable way Jeremy had passed out in his chair, drool leaking from the corner of his mouth, hat knocked askew. On impulse, he reached over and fixed Jeremy’s hat, before deciding to move him to the floor.
Jeremy’s head knocked into Michael’s chest, and he felt sure that the man would wake. Jeremy hardly stirred, so Michael continued to lay him down, removing Jeremy’s jacket to tuck it beneath his head like a pillow. There, Michael thought to himself, somewhat satisfied before he went back to flick through the cameras absently.
Unfortunately for Mike, however, he’d missed the sound of an animatronic crawling into the vent, too focused on making sure he didn’t wake up Jeremy to pay much attention to the world around him.
The loud static did eventually catch Michael’s attention, and he set the monitor down, forgetting to wind the music box as he glanced at the phone. It was in its cradle, and belatedly Michael realized that noise meant animatronic, and he turned to check the vent just as Mangle swung down to attack.
Michael yowled in pain as the impact knocked him from his chair and plastic teeth tore through his face. The edge of the desk caught the other side of his face, making his vision blurry as he faintly caught the sound of tearing fabric and an angry growl.
Something warm ran down his face as the animatronic screeched, hiding away from the giant shadow looming over Michael. Struggling to push himself upright, he found himself surrounded by golden fur. Oh. Michael blinked blood out of his eye, struggling to process the scene around him, only slightly frightened now that he knew his rabbit friend had somehow appeared to aid him. I hope it doesn’t step on my coworker. That’d be awkward to explain.
“Mikey!” Evan’s voice echoed in the quiet environment. “Michael?”
The bunny was growling, a low rumble vibrating through its body. Cool hands cupped both sides of Michael’s face as Evan’s face came into view.
“Oh my god,” Evan breathed, smudging the blood stream ever so slightly. “Where did Jeremy go? I thought you knew what you were doing!”
“Glad you’ve got your priorities in order,” Michael answered slowly, still struggling to focus on his brother’s face. “Your hands are cold.”
“Of course they are.” Evan huffed in exasperation. “Wait, you’re totally in shock. Mikey…”
“The music box…” Michael trailed off as he registered that a completely quiet room was not a good thing.
Evan’s eye widened. “Oh no.”
The sound of aggressive music echoed in the halls as the Puppet made its approach. Not that it was much of a problem, seeing as Michael’s bunny pinned the animatronic to the ground before it could do much.
“Wait, don’t do that,” Evan said hurriedly. “Uh, I need to-“
“Yeah, no, go ahead.” Michael’s eyelids fluttered shut as Evan went away to shout at the bunny who was currently having a very intense stare down with the Puppet.
Jeremy hadn’t known he’d fallen asleep on shift that night. Waking up tangled in bindings made of shimmery thread had not been the most reassuring thing. More startling than that, however, was the pooling blood around Michael’s head as Evan argued with an unfamiliar girl.
Cautiously he untangled himself and dug into the duffel bag he started to bring to every shift, grateful for his planning as the remains of his uniform remained littered across the floor. The bickering children didn’t notice as he slipped his uniform on quickly before pressing his jacket (which for some reason was folded on the floor) to the wound on Michael’s head. Jeremy managed to pull the man close so he could hold the fabric to the wound while still being able to dial for the hospital.
Jeremy didn’t know how Michael had been injured, but based on the teeth marks, he had a sinking feeling Mangle had done something to the poor man. He did look a bit too similar to his father for Jeremy’s liking. That had to be the real reason Michael was so vigilant and why Evan was so paranoid about him missing things in the cameras.
The children stopped arguing to look at him when he was explaining things to the emergency operator, seeming to realize that maybe there were more urgent things to deal with than whatever they’d been arguing about. Jeremy clutched the plastic tightly in one hand as he clutched to Michael’s injury with the other.
Evan was the first to approach Jeremy, looking more disheveled than Jeremy even knew ghosts could be. “You’re the rabbit thing.”
Jeremy nodded awkwardly. He knew they’d discovered him the minute he’d woken up and was tangled in that same shimmery stuff that he’d seen under his skin before he transformed the first time.
“Our conversation isn’t over, Evan,” the girl said, impatiently. “Sure, Mike takes priority, but the fact that you guys tried to lock me away is absolutely insane.”
“How about we skip the interrogation until we know that Michael’s okay,” Jeremy said weakly.
“I guess that’s a good way to put things.” The girl crouched at Michael’s side, brushing bloodied hair out of his face. “Although you and me need a talk at some point, Mr. Fitzgerald.”
“I’m long overdue for talks with a bunch of people now,” Jeremy muttered.
Please be okay.
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