#when i work so hard to tread gently

[theloveinc]

Same person as anon abefore! I wanted to ask about any personal rules you have for this blog? (Only if you feel comfortable answering ofc) bc i saw your post about adding thoughts onto other peoples post and had no idea some people dislike that! But it makes sense why it might make others uncomfortable in a way

-curious question from someone who would very much like a moot (only if you want one too :D !!!!)

hello dear friend :) ... yes ofc you can ask!! tho apologies in advance if this is a complicated answer (and i got your other ask too, tho imma save it for tomorrow bc i'm exhousted)...

i actually personally don't have, nor have ever had, rules for my blog.... mostly bc people have their rules broken ALL the time and i just don't want to worry myself w/ accusing askers/followers of doing this or that (can't break any rules if there aren't any), you know?

but also that's pretty easy for me to say bc i don't really have any like... big triggers or icks or things that bother me, either, so like. if i get something i don't want to address ... i just won't lol? tho that rarely happens cuz i want to get to everything even if i CAN'T or don't

as for like... additions to posts, i think everyone has different preferences regarding how one should go about it? so i can't answer for everyone... but asking is def a safe and kind bet, ALWAYS.

as for me, NORMALLY (adding thoughts) isn't something that bothers me! i love seeing what people have to say, esp if they're friends of mine or add acknowledgements to the creator of the post.

but i think what p*ssed me off today is the fact that........ even tho the reblob was most definitely well intentioned, it just felt a little like i was ransacked of my own idea, esp since that blog has way more followers and friends than i do and i felt like people were responding to them rather than like... me/my idea/OUR idea (and we've never spoken either so .... ??? double whammy)

but anyway. i really want to say like, don't be afraid of adding onto my stuff, or doing anything really idgaf, cuz usually i totally don't mind and esp now that we're friends and have chatted!

but now... i guess i can say, in MY case specifically, recognition does go a long way. even just adding a little like... "hope you don't mind if i add to this!" or "great idea!! this makes me think of ___" would make it feel so much better than just reblobbing as if it were your (as an example) idea in the first place to contribute to.

BUT USUALLY I'M NOT THAT PICKY. TODAY WAS JUST :/ bc i felt a little ignored by someone i do admire and appreciate. but please don't stress yourself, whatever happens i'm always happy to forgive<333

but thank you so much for being so considerate, for my sake and everyone's. i hope this wasn't too hard to read, new mootie friend☺️ (fyi, i follow from @virtualizated)

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader 18+ mdni, these two and their usual kinks, mention/discussion of pregnancy, Simon in his BDU so... you know.

You have a stage five clinger.

That's the only way to describe Simon lately. He's your shadow. The only time he separates himself from you is to take care of the baby, and even then, he's usually always in sight line.

Most people would feel smothered. Annoyed. Fed up, probably. You would have too, with past partners. But for some reason, with him, the irritation doesn't exist. He's working through something in his mind. Repairing something. Healing something. Even though the day in the hospital is long buried, you know it still sticks with him, the evidence clear in the way he still treads carefully, still handles you gently in bed.

The attention, the devotion, doesn't bother you. The need to reassure him drives you into his arms as often as possible, and when he holds on longer than usual, you never pull away.

The last day in your apartment is bittersweet. Mostly packed up, only the skeleton remains, a shell of what was once your home. You expected to feel sad, mournful, as you sweep up the dust in the living room, but your emotions are conflicted, a turbulent sea of satisfaction and already growing nostalgia. You're ready to turn the tide, move forward, while still appreciating the place you became a mother.

You're grateful to Gaz and Cami for taking Orion all day. They're at home, no doubt spoiling him rotten, while you try to wrangle dust bunnies and cleaning the oven. You get lost in the chore of trying to clean up, distracted enough you don't hear the door click.

When heavy footsteps sound in the entryway, you turn.

And lose your breath.

He's in the uniform again. The more formal one, the one that Price makes him wear for meetings. It fits him like a glove, snug in all the right places, and there's no denying what it does to you.

You're already wet. Just staring at him.

He smirks. "Alright?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm just... I'm almost done." You gesture uselessly around the kitchen, half pointing to the oven door, eyes still trained on him, sweeping up and down, over and over.

He steps closer, head cocked, leaning into your space just enough your body instinctively closes the gap. "See something you like honey?"

"Y-yeah."

"Gon' tell me what it is?"

"You look good, in the uniform." You clear your throat. "I... I like it." Your hand unfurls, palm flat, and he tugs on it, folding it over the hard bulge in his pants.

One moment, you're looking up at him and the next you're being spun around, back to his chest, thick fingers plunging into the waistband to tug your panties aside. He groans, stroking over your clit. "You're bloody soaked f'me."

"For you." Is all you can manage, voice twisted into a whisper, and he rips your pants down to your feet, lifting them out to kick your legs wide.

"Hands on the counter," he presses you forward until you're nearly at ninety degrees, cool air ghosting over where you're exposed, slick and swollen. "There we go, jus' like that." He grips fistfuls of your hips, your ass, and then tugs at his zipper, its echo instinctively rising you up onto your toes. He's still in his uniform, completely dressed, and you stare at him over your shoulder, legs trembling, soaking it in. You think you might be drooling. Blunt pressure notches at your pussy, the crown of his cock working its way forward before he slams the rest in, your scream pinging through the empty flat. "Fuck."

"Simon- ah,"

"I know, sweet girl, I know. You can take it, pussy looks so good stretched around me." He's teasing, in control though the clench of his jaw hissing through his teeth is clear, hips snapping over and over, rocking inside you. His lips graze your temple, breath hot on your cheek. "I want you to stop taking your birth control." You shudder, clenching around him. "We're ready, mama. You're ready. Let's," He shoves deep, deep enough you turn to liquid, body bending to accommodate, "have another baby." The rough fabric of his uniform pants scrape against your ass, brush and burn delicious with a bite, and you moan.

The mind has a funny way of erasing the memories of birth. Oxytocin is a finicky trick, the halo effect obliterating trauma and replacing it with joy. You can't say no. You don't want to say no, and the idea giving Orion a sibling, holding another sweet, squirmy baby in your arms, one with Simon's eyes, detonates in your heart, flutters spreading all the way through to your fingers and toes. Your spine arches, hips flexing back towards his own, and he chuckles-

before pulling out and flipping you over, hoisting you up onto the counter with your legs wrapped around his waist. Your eyes roll backwards as he slides home again, pinching your jaw between thumb and forefinger. He looks at you expectantly. Waiting.

The agreement sears on your tongue, incendiary heat forcing its way through your lips. "O-Okay."

"Say it." He thrusts, rubbing your clit at the same time, rolling you close to the edge. "Say yes daddy like a good girl."

"Yes, daddy." His nose touches yours. For a moment, you're both suspended, pupils dilated, sharing the same breath, the same DNA, the same blood. He slows down, and you squirm. "No, no don't stop- p-please-"

"'Say yes daddy, I want another baby' and I'll make you come mama. Tell me." He licks your cheek. You're barely hanging on, holding the front of his uniform. He teases your clit again, working it slowly, and you whine.

"Yes daddy, I want... I want another baby." It's enough. Enough for a dark glint to spark across his eyes, the same glimmer you see from time to time, the possession, the instinct, deep rooted desires.

It sends you into orbit, head tipping back, his teeth on your neck, the two of you coming together and riding through the wave until it's over, and he tucks you into his chest, cock still seated deep.

"I love you." He murmurs. "I'm gonna take care of you this time. I'm gonna be here." You don't ask about the what ifs, what will happen when he's away, what if he misses it. You just bask in the warmth of the moment, and sigh.

"I love you too."

[froggiewrites]

i read every single one of your works in one sitting and oh my god. your mind. your words. you're easily one of the best writers on this hellsite. it should be a crime you don't have more followers because your writing is criminally underrated

i saw you were taking requests and i don't want anything too specific but there isn't that much ace content and i really miss my man. a bit of hurt/comfort bc i love pain and then kissing it better

i was thinking something along the line of your Follow Through work (sorry if it feels repetitive but i live for this type ace content) but really I'll be happy with whatever you put out just have fun and go to town with it <3

Ahhh thank you so much this is so sweet 😭😭 I only started posting really recently so receiving sweet messages like this feels so unreal honestly, it just makes my heart so full. I loved writing this, I always love writing sweet stuff for Ace, so thank you for giving me an excuse to write something in this vein again! I hope you like it 💙

Blinders On

Pairing: Ace x Reader

SFW

Summary: You're in love with Ace. Everybody seems to know this but him. Warnings: Fluff, Miscommunication, A Little Self Loathing, Very Little Hurt/Lots of Comfort Word Count: 2.2k

You really can’t tell if Ace is politely rejecting you, or if he simply doesn’t understand your advances. You’re being terribly obvious, enough so that the rest of the ship (and probably the entire rest of the fleet) are well aware, teasing you for it at any given opportunity. If you have to hear one more man making obnoxious smooching noises whenever you two walk past you’re going to throttle someone.

“It’s honestly getting pathetic at this point.”

“Yeah, it hurts to see someone put their pride on the line like this with no reward in sight. Bring a tear to my eye, really.”

Their voices are teasing, not cruel, but your shoulders tense anyway. You hate feeling pathetic. If he just turned you down, you would be more than willing to just lick your wounds and move on, no matter how hard it hurt. But he never did. He never pulled away, or pushed you further from him. He just never pulled you closer, either. You were left in limbo, treading the line between friend and lover, never crossing to either side.

“What’s got you frowning like that?” You jump when you feel two fingers at the edges of your lips, gently forcing them into a smile. Ace is in front of you, nearly nose to nose, and you can see the candlelight dancing in his eyes and painting his cheeks a gentle orange. He looks beautiful, as always, as he grins at you. “That’s better. Now you try again without my help.”

You force your mouth into a smile despite yourself.

“There we go.” He laughs quietly, and you can feel his warm breath on your face. He’s horribly, unbearably close, close enough that you would barely have to move to feel his lips against yours. The urge is overwhelming, but you can’t let yourself, so you scoot back slightly, smile growing a bit shakier.

He frowns a bit, something unnamed flashing in his eyes, before he leans a little further back as well. “Care to share what made you so upset? You were glaring a hole into the table.”

“Oh it’s…it’s nothing big. Don’t worry about it.” You frankly would rather throw yourself overboard than look Ace in the eye that you were sitting here pathetically pining over him.

He frowns deeper. “You know you can always share with me, right? I’m a good listener, I swear.” A mocking laugh explodes behind him from a nearby eavesdropper, and he leans forward before muttering, “I’m good at listening to you, at least.”

Your cheeks heat. You don’t want to embarrass yourself like this, but he’s looking at you with those sweet puppy dog eyes, and maybe this could be a chance for you to finally figure out how he feels about you. “Well…it’s just…” your eyes slide to the several crewmates visibly listening in. “Can we talk in private?”

“Of course!” He’s on his feet instantly, offering you his hand to help you up. He pulls you up as though you weigh nothing, and while that makes your stomach flutter a bit, it’s nothing compared to the way he keeps a hold on your hand while leading you away. You can feel the heat radiating from him, every callus on his hand, the way his fingers lightly rub against the back of your hand. It takes all of your self control not to melt.

He leads you to his room, leading to wolf whistles from some passersby, and you internally groan at all of the comments you’re going to get after this. But he gently sets you on his bed before kicking off his boots and sitting next to you, on his knees, looking at you expectantly. “Is this good?”

“Yeah, thanks, Ace.” He gives a blinding smile at that, terribly pleased to have helped. “So I’ve been dealing with…an issue, lately.”

He nods, urging you onward.

“So there’s this guy…”

He winces, the expression so quick you almost miss it. 

“And I’ve been trying to figure out how he feels about me.” You curl in on yourself a little tighter. “But I genuinely can’t tell if he’s noticed how I feel and he just doesn’t…feel the same, or if he somehow doesn’t know.” This is terrifying, laying it all bare, but if it leaves a chance for something else, something better, isn’t it worth it to be brave?

But Ace remains silent. His face is frozen halfway between shock and despair, staring at you with wide eyes. You blink at him, confused, and gently reach forward to take his hand. “Ace?”

He flinches when you touch him. “Ah! Um, sorry. Advice. You wanted advice.”

“If you’re willing? You don’t have to.”

“No, I–I can.” He seems flustered, but you can’t really tell which part of this shook him. You try to brace yourself for oncoming rejection, just in case. “...You really don’t know if he feels the same?”

“I have absolutely no idea. And nobody else I’ve asked does, either.”

Another flash of hurt, the frown of a kicked puppy. “You went to other people before me?”

You rush to correct. “They came to me. I think they felt bad for me, honestly. The entire ship has noticed and they can’t tell if he likes me either, and a lot of people have been making fun of me about it. So a few people asked me if I was alright.”

He furrows his brow. “People have been making fun of you? Who?”

“Almost everyone, really. You didn’t notice?”

“No, I didn’t.” His expression shifts to something close to guilt. “How long has this been going on?”

“About…a year or so?”

“You only joined the crew a little more than a year ago.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You can’t keep the exhaustion from your tone. You want to say it hasn’t taken a toll on you, that you let it roll off your back, but the weight has been resting on your shoulders, dragging you further and further down. It’s only a matter of time before you snap entirely. “It’s…it’s a bit much, sometimes. But the only way to get them to stop is to stop trying to get him to notice me, and if I stop that he never will. And I think he’s worth all of it, really.”

“Hm. I’m…sure he is.” You can hear the sting in his voice, like cold water on an open wound. “He has to be, for you to want him so badly.”

“He’s the best man I’ve ever met.” You can’t keep the affection from your voice, or the warmth from your cheeks as you shyly peer at Ace through your lashes. You can’t place the faraway look in his eyes, hazy and unfocused.

“He better be.” He clenches his jaw briefly before relaxing it, closing his eyes and shutting you out. You see his fingers digging into his thighs as he turns away from you and takes a deep breath. “You should just tell him, I’m sure he’ll reciprocate. He’d be an idiot if he didn’t.” His voice is strained, sounding like there’s an unshakable weight on his chest.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it. You should tell that bastard how you feel.”

“Bastard?”

You can see every muscle in his back tense as he continues to face away from you. “Did I say bastard? I meant lucky bastard.”

“It…doesn’t sound like you did.”

“How could he be anything less than lucky, to have someone like you?”

He really isn’t getting it. Even now, he just doesn’t fucking get it. “Are you mad at me, Ace? Or him, I guess?”

“I’m not mad,” he snaps, unconvincingly. “I’m not…I’m not upset. It would be ridiculous for me to be upset, I have no reason to be. Not with you, or with whoever it is. That would be silly. And I’m not. Silly.”

“...Right.”

Are you going to have to spell this out for him?

“And since I’m so definitely not-at-all mad, can I know who it is? So I know who to congratulate later.”

You sigh. “You really have no idea?”

“...I think I might have one.”

You lean forward a bit, trying to angle around him to look him in the eye, but you accidentally brush your chest with his back and he jumps, scrambling away before turning around to face you. “Who do you think it is, Ace?”

“Is it Marco?”

What?

“What?”

“Is it…is it not Marco?” He furrows his brow.

“I–no. It’s not Marco.”

“Thatch then?”

“No! Oh my god.”

“Izou? Or–”

“It’s you, Ace!”

His eyes go wide and he freezes. “It’s…me?”

“Yes.”

He absolutely lights up like a firework with the biggest, most sincere grin you’ve ever seen. “It’s me?” He leans forward, close enough that you can see every fleck of color in his dark eyes. “It’s me? Really? You mean it?”

“Who else could it possibly be?” You can’t keep the hint of laughter out of your voice at the idea you could love anybody but Ace, as though any man you had ever met could beat him for best. 

Before you know it, his arms are around you, his comforting weight pressing you into the bed beneath you. “I didn’t think it could ever be me.”

Your arms wrap around him in turn, pulling his head into your neck as he presses his nose into you. “Why couldn’t it be you? You’re amazing, Ace.”

“I can’t believe you believe that.” His voice is soft as he pulls himself apart for a second, allows himself to fall into your embrace and forget the world. “I didn’t think you could want me. I already didn’t get how you could like me, let alone more. You’re so…everything and I’m so…me.”

“I don’t think there’s anything in the world better to be than you.”

There’s a wetness pressing into your neck, but you don’t comment. “No one has ever said that to me before. I don’t…I don’t understand how I tricked you, but–”

“Portgas D Ace. You didn’t trick me. I just saw you for who you were, and I loved you because of it. Not in spite of it, not because I somehow didn’t see it. Because you’re you, and I don’t know what could be better than that.”

“Almost anything else?” He mutters it weakly. “I really hoped you would…would think about me like I think about you. I just didn’t think it was possible. Was it really that obvious?”

“Every single person on this ship knew before you did. Someone was making fun of me for it at breakfast, directly in front of you, and you still didn’t notice. It was really just because you didn’t think I could like you?”

“It genuinely didn’t seem like a possibility to me. I figured I was just going to be pining after you for the rest of my life, y’know? Have to see you find someone else as wonderful as you are and run off together, and pretend I was happy for you. Which I sort of would be, I guess. I want you to be happy. And I didn’t think I could do that for you.” He pulls out of your neck, and you can see his eyes are glistening, a few stray tears making their way down his freckled cheeks. He looks you in the eye, while his own filled with a strange mix of affection and self loathing. “Still don’t, really. But I’ll try.”

You cup his cheeks in your hands, gently brushing away his tears. “No one else could make me happier than you, Ace. I know that for sure. You are the kindest, brightest, most wonderful man I know. You have no idea how amazing you are, how you inspire the people around you. You’re so loved, and it’s not because you managed to pull the wool over everybody’s eyes, or anything silly like that. It’s because you deserve it.” You lean up, lips brushing softly against his before you pull back again to speak. His lips chase yours, making you giggle. “You deserve every bit of it, Ace. And if you don’t believe me I’ll just have to show you. Every day, until it sticks.”

“And if it does?” His voice is nothing but a whisper as he stares at you like you’re the greatest treasure on the seas. “Will you stop if it sticks?”

“No way in hell. I’ll double down. Triple down, even.”

He gives you a shy grin. “Guess I’ll have to figure out the truth pretty fast, then. I’d like to see what double this looks like.

“I guess you will.”

The next kiss takes your breath away. It makes the teasing you and Ace are sure to receive when you leave the cabin worth it a million times over. But right now there isn’t a crew jeering at you. The only thing in the world right now is Ace, on top of you, his warmth enveloping you as he kisses you like he’s been waiting a thousand years to do it.

[astralis-ortus]

beyond forever and eternity

✱ husband!bc x fem!reader

— love cannot survive on luck alone.

w.count → 0.8k genre → fluff warning → chan referred to as chris, quite the amount of kisses, mild cussing, and the usual very ew-you're-so-in-love behavior. also, reader is addressed as wifey twice! a.n → based on this request! but friends, i think you need to stop me from all this domestic chan thing because i!! am!! dying!! from!! all!! the!! cuteness!!ㅠ /j ⋆ see masterlist

the past year had felt like the best time of your life.

sure, the first 6 months were filled with one heck of an emotional rollercoaster—a bunch of final wedding preparations, taking care of all the confusing legal papers, making sure your new home with chris was up to both your expectations, and actually having the wedding within the span of 180 days made you wonder if everything was real.

the latter part of the year is when your new reality starts to sink in. some days, it happened when you woke up next to a softly snoring chris—curls as messy as a bird’s nest, yet you couldn’t help but tread your fingers through those dark locks. some others, it happened when you watch his back while he showed off his newly acquired cooking skill, giggling away while chris convinces you—though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself—that eveything’s going exactly to plan.

other days, however, it happens simply when you caught a glance of the stack of beautiful silver bands on your ring finger, gleaming softly under the light of your cozy living room. you’d then look at your husband sitting next to you, faint crease decorating his forehead as his gaze focuses on a project he’d been working on for the past hour or so. you’d gently bring your finger to tap on those crease, immediately erasing its existence as chris shifted his focus towards you, gaze softening along the appearance of his dimpled smile.

being married to chris had felt like coming home—like he has always been everything you’ve been looking for and more.

“has it started?”

chris’ soft voice along with the warmth of his arm snaking around your waist swiftly snapped you out of your trance, gaze returning to your husband’s smile. you silently shook your head, instead wrapping your arms around his waist and gave into his warmth while allowing a content sigh to slip past your lips. “wasn’t paying attention, honestly,” you admitted, to which he immediately returned with chuckle.

“you’re sleepy?” he gently planted his lips on your forehead while running his palm on your side. “wanna call it a night?”

“no!” you whined, lips pursing in protest. “i’m not sleepy. besides, it’s only like 2 minutes till new year, and i want to spend the first seconds awake with my husband,” you playfully emphasized—and there it was. the rosy bloom across his face quietly surfaces despite chris’ attempt to play it cool, and it never fails to amuse you.

guess it won’t be hard for you to bet that you’ll never be the only one in love in this relationship.

“gosh, wifey,” looking at you with a scrunched nose, chris finally let the adoration bubbling in his chest win when he playfully ruffles your hair—which, of course, earns a string of protests from you, “do you really love me that much?”

“think so,” you stuck out your tongue, eyes twinkling as you decide to further tease your now-red-as-a-tomato husband. “i think i love you so so so much to the point i might pass out. i mean, how can i not? you’re charming, you’re adorable, you’re handsome, you’re hot as fuck—how do you expect me not to? i’m just—“

you haven’t been paying attention—but again, how could you? your gaze had been fixated on chris’ beautiful features, taking notes on every minuscule scar and freckles painted across his blooming face; but as the plush of his lips shuts off your rambling ones, warm hands cradling your equally warm cheeks,

you could hear the fireworks within you harmonize with the colorful blasts outside the window of your hotel room.

you know you’re lucky—despite believing in the concept of soulmates, you know there are universes where your path with chris’ remains as distant, separated parallel lines. you know that nurturing your relationship with chris will have its ups and downs. you know what you have now with chris will forever be both unbreakable and fragile,

and you’re determined to turn your every day with chris as special as it could be.

“happy new year, wifey,” he mumbled quietly, lips fixed into a smile as it grazed against yours when he finally pulled away. pads of fingers tucking the stray strands off your face, chris followed the kisses across your face—on your forehead, your closed eyelids, your rosy cheeks, your soft jaw, before he returned his lips home onto yours.

“thank you for staying with me—for promising­ your forever to me, and i’m looking forward to spending my eternity with you,” with a smile apparent on his lips, his gaze were soft as he tenderly peered into your glossy ones.

“i love you—more than words could ever explain.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[deanssluvr]

midnight memories

pairings: frat!joost klein x fem!reader, friends to lovers

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drugs. SMUT. handjob. cowgirl. unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it). mdni.

word count: 3.3k

a/n: I did it. Literally couldn’t think of anything else but this. yes the title is based on a one direction song. It’s what sparked this idea. hope yall like it. requests for Joost Klein are open.

You entered your new dorm, heavy boxes in your arms. You always hated this process of moving back in. But you were happy about the upgrade. Only one roommate this time, and a bathroom in your dorm meaning no more communal bathroom. You walked to your shared living room and you set the boxes on the floor. A loud crack as they hit the ground. You cursed yourself as you knelt to open the box and assess the damage.

“Fuck.” You picked up the pieces of the now broken desktop mirror. You loved this mirror because it was so convenient and you’ve had it since your freshman year. But now you have to trash it. You decided it was a good idea to pick up the pieces with your bare hands, but quickly regretted it when one of them cut your hand. You let a string of curses leave your mouth as you rushed to the sink. You winced as cold water washed over your wound. You spent 15 minutes tending to your hand and finally wrapped it in gauze.

You walked back out to your car to grab another box. As soon as you picked it up, your wound stung but you ignored it. You just wanted to finish unpacking as quickly as possible. You treaded back up the stairs to your dorm and stopped at your door. You set the boxes on the ground so you could get your keys out of your pockets.

“Heyyyy” You knew that voice and you groaned.

“Hey, Joost.” You turned to see your friend Joost standing in the doorway. He was in a plain white shirt and black sweatpants. You were confused about what he was doing in the girl dormitories, especially during move-in day. “What’re you doing here?”

“I’m just here to help a girl move in.” You knew he was lying.

“Right. You’re just gonna help her. That’s it. Isn’t that how you ended up sleeping with my roommate last year?” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“What? First, that was a coincidence. And second I’m genuinely going to help her.” He attempts to explain himself. Because he was looking for a reason to see you, but he would never admit that.

“No. I don’t believe it. You do this all the time. You’re just trying to sleep with her.” You finally find your key in your pocket and open your door.

“I would never. What do you take me for? A whore?” You looked at him, giving him his answer. It’s not a secret that he sleeps with a lot of girls. And you see why. He’s attractive but cocky and you would never give him the satisfaction. He looks at your hand and sees the bandage. His face changes to concern and he gently picks up your hand. You wince a little at the contact and he apologizes, examining the wound. “What happened?”

“I broke my mirror that’s all.” You should’ve pulled away, but you didn’t. His hands were gentle with yours. Almost as if he cared. He looked at you with expression you couldn’t make out.

“Let me help you unpack the rest of your stuff.” He offers as he picks up the boxes that are still sitting next to the doorway.

“Are you trying that trick on me?” You raised your brow at him.

“I mean is it working?” He smirked, but you weren’t falling for it. “I’m kidding. I promise. I just want to help you out.” He gave you a genuine smile. You opened the door to your dorm allowing him to come in and set the boxes down.

—

After some time, the boxes finally made their way to your dorm. The hard part was over. You both sat on your couch, collectively deciding to take a well-needed break. It was silent between the both of you, but comfortable silence.

“We’re throwing a party tomorrow to celebrate coming back. You should come.” You knew exactly what party he was talking about. His frat always throws the biggest parties at the beginning of the year. They’re known for it.

“I don’t think I have a choice. My friends are dragging me there.” You chuckled looking at the unopened boxes that now littered your floor. If you looked at him, you would’ve seen him. looking at you like he thought you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Which is exactly what he thought. He was so incredibly in love with you and has been since freshman year. But he would never tell you that. He believes that you deserve better. Better than him at least. He was brought out of his trance by his phone vibrating. He took it out of his pocket and looked at it and sighed.

“Hey I’m sorry but I gotta go. The guys need wanna go shopping for tomorrow. But I can stay if you need help.” He hoped you’d ask him to stay. Partially because he doesn’t feel like going and mostly because he wants to stay here with you.

“No, I’ll be fine. All I gotta do is unpack at this point. Plus my roommate should be here in an hour and she can help me if I need it.” you give him a reassuring smile. “Plus if you want to help somebody, I’m sure that girl that you mentioned probably still needs it.” you laugh and he rolls at you.

“You got jokes?” he gives you a smirk and playfully laughs. When you both stop you’re just looking at each other. It was quiet between the both of you.

“Uhm well, I should head out before they leave without me.” He looks away and gets up. You both say your goodbyes before he leaves your dorm.

—

You and your friend had decided to get ready together in your dorm since it was closer to where the party was being held. Your friends all crowded into your bathroom trying to finish their makeup. You had already completed it before they arrived and now struggling to pick an outfit. You just wanted something comfortable but cute because you’ll most likely be on your feet all night. You finally settled on an outfit that you were happy with and picked up your phone.

“Guys, we’re already 45 minutes late.” You yelled across from across the hall. You groaned when you heard no response and walked over to the bathroom. 2 of them were already finished while one was still working on her makeup.

“Sophie, how much longer are you gonna be? Because at this rate we’ll never make it to the party.” everyone laughed except Sophie.

“I’m sorry. This lash isn’t sticking no matter how much glue I put on it.” You watched as she tried placing a lash on her eye again only to take it off in frustration. Walking over, you take the lash out of her hand. You reapplied the lash glue and gently grabbed her face. You carefully placed the lash on her eye.

“How does that look?” You both were looking at her in the mirror.

“It looks so good thanks.” She smiled.

“Okay. Well, let’s get going.” All four of you quickly gathered your things and made your way out of your dorm.

—

The walk to the frat house wasn’t too long which you were grateful for. As you walked up to the place you could hear the music blaring and see multiple different colored lights through the windows. You and your friends arrived at the front door and were greeted by two guys. Obviously, they were members of the frat.

“Heyyy ladies.” One of them greeted you. Both of them looked at you and your friends like you guys were a full-course meal. It creeped you out. They moved out of the way to let you all in. The fraternity house throbbed with pulsating basslines that reverberated through every corner. Dim lights flickered overhead, casting shadows that danced against the walls as bodies moved to the rhythm of the music. It was packed. Two of your friends went to find their boyfriends and promised they’d meet up with you later into the night. Leaving you with Sophie who was already eyeing a guy.

“Wanna go get drinks?” You pull her from her trance, and you both stumble through the crowded living room, waving to familiar faces and exchanging playful banter. You both finally made your way to the drink table. You looked at the mystery punch and immediately passed it up opting for a beer. You were about to pick one out of the cooler before a rowdy group of students clamored over the table looking for refills. You rolled your eyes, grabbed your desired drink, and found your back to Sophie. She softly nudged your arm.

“Hey isn’t that the cute frat guy that you’re always around.” You looked in the same direction as her and your eyes met Joost’s. The room seemed to quiet down for a moment. The both of you just smiled at each other. Sophie grabbed your attention by pulling you by the arm.

“Let’s go dance!” You nodded and gave one quick look over to him again, but he had already turned back to talk to his friends. The part of the room that was considered the dance floor was tightly packed. But Sophie was able to find a spot in the crowd for the both of you. Your favorite song had come and Sophie was screaming the lyrics with you. You both were feeding off the energy of the crowd, dancing along with them. You had to admit that the playlist was fantastic because never was there one full moment on that dance floor. You were too busy having fun to notice Joost’s eyes on you. He had completely zoned out of his friends’ conversation to look at you. He was mesmerized by the way your body moved to the music. His mind drifted to dirtier things as he thought about his hands exploring your curves as you danced against him. He was quickly pulled from his trance by his friends pulling him to go get more shots. But after 15 minutes you were getting quite tired. Then one of the frat guys from earlier asked her to dance. She looked at you with pleading eyes.

“It’s okay. Go have fun. I’m gonna go take a break.” You tried yelling over the music, but she heard you anyway. She mouthed you a thank you and was pulled away to another part of the dance floor, leaving you to yourself. You made your through the crowd. You wanted to find somewhere where you could breathe for a moment, so you made your way to the front. You passed two guys on the threadbare couches who seemed to be engaged in a debate over something. On the patio outside, you leaned against the railing, escaping the heat and chaos inside. you watched as groups of friends played beer pong with fervor, their competitive spirits adding to the party's vibrant energy. The cool night air offered a brief respite from the sensory overload indoors.

“Want some company?” Turning your head, you see Joost walking over to join you. You smiled softly, silently allowing him to stand out on the patio with you. You both didn’t say anything for a few moments. You feel the cool breeze blow past, letting the heat you felt earlier go with it. You hear him dig through his pocket for something.

“You want one.” He offered as he held out a box of cigarettes. You shook your head, and took one out, putting it between his lips. He pulled out a lighter and lit it. You watched as he inhaled and blew the smoke into your face.

“Oh my god. You asshole.” He chuckled as he watched as you fanned the smoke away from your face which resulted in you laughing. A few moments pass again before you speak again. “Can I ask what you’re doing out here? I thought you would’ve been doing something stupid with your friends or trying to get in some girl's pants.” You took another sip of your beer.

“All of my friends are wasted,” he paused briefly, “And the only girl I care about is standing right here.” You looked at him in disbelief, but he was avoiding your eyes.

“You mean…” that statement could mean anything. You watched as he took in a breath and looked at you. It was dark with only the light of from the party seeping through the window behind you. Through the faint multi colored light you could see the hesitation in his face.

“I mean I like you. Like really like you.” You’d never seen him nervous until now. He flirts with so many other girls, but when it comes to you it’s different. He tries to read your face for any sign that you might feel the same.

“Joost I…” Words were lost to you. Nothing you could think of didn’t feel like enough of a response for him.

“No, it’s fine. I wasn’t expecting you to feel the same.” He gave you a pathetic smile. A bad attempt at hiding how he was feeling. “I was just tired of you not knowing how I really felt.” He sighed. He was sure that he just ruined everything between the both of you. He dropped the cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. Anything to avoid your gaze. But you gently grabbed his chin and forced him to look at you. You watched as his eyes scanned over your face. He thought you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. You finally pull him into a kiss. He was caught off guard but enjoyed it nonetheless. He was hesitant to touch you at first, but his hands found their way to your hips, pulling you closer to him.

Out of nowhere, a group of clearly drunk guys came yelling and laughing out of the party. They noticed you and Joost and cheered him on. You both pulled away a bit embarrassed. Joost more than you. You can see a faint blush rise on his cheeks and you giggle at him.

“I know somewhere more private.” He took you by the hand and you both went back inside. He pushed his way through the crowd of people. The energy still hadn’t died down in the slightest. As you both made your way through the crowd, you spotted Sophie still dancing with the guy from earlier. Then you saw your other friends watching their boyfriends play beer pong and losing. Joost led you up some stairs and into a hallway, which was crowded with random people making out with each other. It was awkward pushing past them, but you did it anyway.

He stopped once he arrived at a room. He opened the door and you both went inside. He locked the door behind you. The room was relatively tidy. You looked around and saw multiple posters littered on his walls. All pictures are different from artists to video games. There was also a flag that you assumed was from where he’s from.

You lifted his shirt over his and tossed it somewhere on the floor. Your hands were quick to explore the exposed skin.

“Is this okay?” You felt his hands reach up your back to your zipper. He was nervous and he hated it. You were the only one who made him feel like this. You nodded. He unzipped it and lifted it over your head. Then toss it on the floor along with the rest of your clothes. His lips found their way to your neck, kissing and sucking where he could. His hands carefully reach up your back to your bra. When he tries to unclasp it, he starts having trouble. You couldn’t help but giggle at the struggle, so you reached back to do it for him. He slides it off your arms and tosses it aside. One of his hands was in your hair, pulling you into another kiss. Your fingers unbuttoned his jeans and wrapped around his desperate cock and started stroking softly. He pulled away and inhaled sharply. You pick up the pace and he leans his head back, a low groan escaping his lips. You leaned forward kissing and sucking at the new exposed skin. He curses under his breath and grabs your hand, stopping your actions.

“I need to fuck you schat (baby).” he breathes, panting hard, his chest heaving. He sounded desperate. He sat up on your knees giving him room to pull his pants and underwear down. You pulled your panties to the and grabbed him, lining him up with your entrance. You slowly sank, letting yourself adjust to his size. One of Joost's hands went to your waist, to help support you. You sank lower, having to bite your lip but unable to stop a low moan from escaping you. Once he was fully inside you stopped. You placed a hand on his chest gently pushing so he was lying on his back. He had many meaningless one-night stands, but you were more than that to him. His eyes scanned over your body and he looked at you like you were the most beautiful girl to him, a goddess even. His hands come to rest on your hips. Without warning you start moving your hips at a quick pace. You feel his fingertips digging into your soft flesh. Strings of curses mixed with broken praises leave his lips. His breathing was fast and heavy, and while he continued rubbing you, he had a moan of his own escape him.

"Fuck," he said, the curse not typical for him. "You're so tight." You were becoming a moaning mess with every thrust. The loud music still blaring downstairs was the only sound blocking your near pornographic noises. You looked down at him while you moved. There was a light film of sweat on his brow and his face was one of utmost pleasure as he watched where you both connected. It was filthy and beautiful he thought to himself. He knew you were both close when your movements became messier. So he sat up, his arm around your back. He was meeting your movements with his thrusts, pulling you against him. His mouth landed between your neck, kissing you there, as he kept using his new leverage to fuck up into you. In this new position, he was able to find your sweet causing this newfound pleasure to surge through you as he relentlessly kept hitting it.

“I’m going to, i’m clo-“ You could barely talk, but Joost knew what you were saying.

“It’s okay. I want to feel you come.” He thrusted up into you a few more times and you held onto his neck for support. That was enough to bring you over the edge. Your orgasm hit you like a train and it felt as though fireworks were going off all over your body. He followed suit as he came only a few seconds behind you. His grip on your hips was tight as he brought himself over the edge. Then he stuttered to a stop, breathing heavily, his face against yours. When it was over you nearly collapsed on Joost, your forehead falling on his shoulder. He laid you both back, careful of how sensitive you were at the moment. You both lie there catching your breath. Your hand rubbed soft circles over his chest.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” This question had been gnawing at you since he said it, “about liking me?” He looked down at you in disbelief. But then he realized he was never the most honest with girls of his past and you knew this. But he wanted to make you see that you were different from any other girl he’d met.

“I meant every word. I promise.” You chose to trust and believe him. As much as you wanted to speak further about it, sleep was quick to take over you. Your eyes fluttered closed and he noticed.

“Slaapwel (goodnight).” He placed a kiss on your forehead and that was the last thing you felt before you blissfully fell asleep.

[xazse]

scara would be such an asshole to bunny!reader (or hybrid!reader in general) lol, constantly pulling your ears and pulling your tail..

can I request scara teasing bunnt reader and then he starts to feel a little bad when he notices his bunny is all sad and sulking!

How can he not feel bad when he hears your sobbing in the middle of the night?:( He'd probably fxck you dumb and fill you as a sorry <3

SCARAMOUCHE X BUNNYGIRL!READER

Notes: you guys are killing me so good 😭, btw if you do want more scara stuff leave me some prompts like the first anon did, I’m kinda running short on ideas. And I decided to combine two asks

Pairings: Scaramouche x Bunnygirl!Reader

Tags: Hybrid!Reader, Crying, Squirting, Mean!Scaramouche, Biting, NOT PROOFREAD (lol none of my works are)

Oh he’s such a bastard some days, when he thinks you’ve been a little too annoying some days he’ll simply tap your nose, he knows how sensitive the damn thing is, it’s the only thing that’ll get you to give him some time to hear his own thoughts, it doesn’t last long before you’re giving him feather light kisses all over his face.

A day where he’s relaxing in his office, all his work finished you come prancing in yipping for his attention again… for the third time today. He’s sitting in his chair when you come wrap your arms around his neck and sit down on his lap. Scaramouche really isn’t in the mood

to entertain you, so he gently pushes you off.

“Not right now..” Scaramouche scolds, he can’t see the hurt in your eye but you make no move to leave the room, you’ve been with him for a while but still aren’t used to blunt attitude.

The rest of the week is spent him pushing you away, turning you away, barely engaging with you, it hurts you so badly, you want to be able to talk about your day with him, cuddle and kiss him but he just isn’t going for it.

Your breaking point is when you were both in bed, you were half asleep and attempted to move on top of him just for the extra comfort, it was fine the first few seconds, your long fluffy ears relaxing before he once again brushed you off of him, insisting it was way to hot for you to be ontop of him.

That really was it, you started to sleep in the living room, giving scara the excuse that it was too stuffy in the bedroom right now, he didn’t even double check to see if that was the real reason. Later that night he’s awoken by soft sobbing, he’s been waiting so patiently for this, for you to break down already. He knows it’s a terrible thing to do, make his own girl cry just for the sake of pleasure, he can admit it was a little hard but nonetheless his pants tighten at the sound of your sniffles.

He treads soundlessly to the living room where you’re under the cover, on your stomach. your sobbing becoming more apparent. You haven’t noticed his presence yet, not until you jump from feeling a hand rubbing your cunt back and forth, only the thin layers of your panties keeping him from directly touching you. A small whine leaves your throat in-between your sniffling, and it’s so fucking hot, he doesn’t stop the motion of his hands before he’s palming his heavy cock beneath his hand.

His eyes are half lidded looking at your twitching tail, the small thing visible even under the cover. You don’t make a move to look at him either, simply content with just the pleasure he’s giving you. He removes the cover off your form he can’t see your face due to it being buried into a pillow, you won’t allow him to see your ruined face, won’t allow him to see the progress.

That just spurs him on further, his breathing’s increased a tenthfold. He grips your hips and lifts them up, but he lets you continue to sulk in the pillow, a nice arch being showcased to him. He doesn’t want to rush into fucking you, he wants you a little dumb and numb.

He pulls his underwear down a little, letting only his cock free, his balls heavy with need looking at your clothed cunt. He grabs ahold of your hips again and pulls you right against him: agaisnt his cock, he starts slow when he rubs himself against your pussy, groans are already leaving his throat in short pauses. He’s guiding your hips up and down.

You looked so cute, the ultimate submission from your part has his hips speeding up, he’ll worry about apologizing later, right now he needs to be balls deep inside of you.

He quickly pulls your panties down, exposing your pussy to the cool night draft. His sweet bunny is oh so wet from the grinding: it makes the situation much easier. He jerks himself off a few times before lining up with your hole and pushing himself In all the way.

A sharp whine leaves your lips, it doesn’t even take another second before your clenching down on him, he doesn’t give you time, already giving you fast deep strokes, so deep he has to use a little bit of strength to hold your torso down. The way his cock drags along your walls is so good, so dizzying, he positions himself to press his stomach on your back, getting close to your head right in your ear.

“So good, you feel so good..” the way his voice shivers makes you feel a tad bit better but that doesn’t excuse the hurt, your tears have dried up, your sobs have stopped but the constant sniffling remains.

He continues to fuck you hard, whilst still whispering obscenities into your ear, he leans up just a little, seeing your ears twitch a sudden desire fills him, a mean one at that: he bites the fluff of your ear down hard. Your eyes flutter shut hard and you cry out in pain, he feels your pussy contract around him, and a liquid coating his cock, he feels his body flare up , he’s hammering into you even harder than before while you cry and babble out his name repeatedly, it’s the first time he’s made you ever squirt but it’s still an achievement, he didn’t even know your ears were just that sensitive.

[sagelasters]

the void state through the context of asian philosophy 

How often does one hear about the void state? Many people probably think it doesn’t exist because the idea of instant ‘manifestation’ is too good to be true. The fundamental realm of our world taught us that suffering is inevitable, and success can only be achieved through physical hard work. Sometimes, the idea of exquisite comfort and abundance of wealth hangs above people’s heads like a bait, oftentimes those that climb the ladders, falls off and never to return again. If it was fake, there wouldn’t be so many similarities in philosophy all across the world, some stretches back to ancient civilizations. The void state has many names/terms depending on each culture interpretation, but it is always referred to the state of stillness.  I used to be skeptical of anything metaphysical related, but if you really want to change your life, I’d advise you to drop all of those doubts just for several minutes. Remember your roots, just remember. 

In Taoism, there is a concept called ‘wuji’ (無極) which directly translated to ‘without limit’ or ‘without roof’. Wuji is represented by a blank circle and described as the state of unmanifest, a stillness, infinite ‘no-thing’, and a primordial universe. Many Taoist scholars described ‘wuji’ as a ‘good night sleep’ where all negative and positive emotions cease to exist, many believers of Taoism stated that the world was once in the ‘wuji’ state. Since it is boundless and an infinite universe,  ‘wuji’ must exist in order for movement and manifestation to arise. This state is taught in many forms of Chinese martial art, oftentimes requires deep concentration to fully ‘enter’ (I don’t like this word because ‘wuji’ isn’t a magical place, it literally exists within you, it needs you to exist. You are the movement and manifestation). Overall, martial artists used this to relax mentally and physically, it’s actually a meditative state. In ‘wuji’, you have the potential to ‘move’ and become ‘something', as it is a pre-existential state. 

Another state of stillness can be seen in Buddhism is the Śūnyatā or suññatā (voidness, vacuity or emptiness) Buddhist philosophers even refers to is ‘The Void’ where the essence of the soul is empty, it is ‘the synonym of that which has no cause, that which is beyond thought or conception, that which is not produced, that which is not born, that which is without measure.’ ‘Sunyata’ is a composition of ultimate reality and the release of attachment. The Buddha found true enlightenment when he realized ‘emptiness’. He freed himself from all of the suffering and dissatisfaction of the Earthly world. In ‘sunyata’, every entity is interconnected with a blankness, the concept explains that the universe's ever-changing and empty nature allows for the creation and destruction of all things. To reach the state of ‘sunyata’ or the great void, one must have great concentration and tread gently, avoiding forcing their way in. 

That was a lot of researching and summarizing but I love to share my knowledges with you. As you can see, the void state is not anything new. In-fact the concept is much older than we think! I hope this post showed you new insights and please stop doubting the void's existence. It lives within you, it is literally a part of you.

[sceletaflores]

i really just need art and patrick in subspace.

they don't normally sub. and they've never even kissed each other. dom reader makes them realize how much they desire the other, and can't help but allow her to slowly leading them into subspace

and all the poor guys can do is follow her like dogs in heat ;((

-🐝

auurrr sub!artrick you’re real to me…

and the thing is that their attraction to each other is so painfully obvious to quite literally everyone around them, but they themselves are completely oblivious.

It's either obliviousness or straight-up repression—a refusal to see what's right in front of them.

maybe it’s for different reasons. maybe art’s religious upbringing is still burned into his mind every time he catches himself letting his eyes linger a little too long on patrick fresh out of the shower, water dripping down the hard planes of his abs when he gets dressed in the mornings. the memory of his sunday school's youth pastor reciting, “it’s adam and eve, not adam and steve.”

and maybe patrick still has his dad’s homophobic rants ringing in his ears when he catches himself staring art’s lips wrapped around the filter of a cigarette. their shared cigarette, wet from art’s mouth when he takes it between his own lips.

but then they meet you. you with your willingness to navigate such a complex situation so delicately, carefully treading along the line of artandpatrick to help them realize that wanting to fuck each other isn't the end of the world. that sharing a girl the same way they share a cigarette is just another excuse to get as close as possible without touching.

it’s a mission, and you’re strategic about it.

you get them in bed at the same time, and they're so skittish. working around each other instead of with each other, but you're patient. you know they're both used to being in control, but they get so fuck drunk. it's like all the blood from their brains go to their dicks the second you drop your skirt, voice soft but demanding as you sit on the edge of art's bed.

"i want you to eat me out, both of you."

two hitching gasps ring out, shaky and broken. they're both hard.

you get them on their knees before the bed, shoulders pressed together between your thighs and matching looks of hesitation on their faces. you smile, reaching out to brush your fingers through their hair reassuringly. slowly, you start to drag art forward by the back of his head, only art.

his nose bumps against your inner thigh, short puffs of breath fanning over your aching core until he sticks his tongue out and lets you drag him wherever you want him.

patrick watches art the entire time, eyes rapidly flicking over his profile like he doesn't know where to look. tracing the bridge of art's nose, the cut of his jawline, zeroing in on where his pretty pink lips wrap around your clit. he's so quiet, the quietest you've ever heard him.

when art gets too into it, moaning and drooling, you pull him back. he groans, leaning forward to fight your grip on his hair like he'll die if he's not fucking you with his tongue. you scratch your nails against his scalp, a placating smile on your face before you're turning to patrick.

he lurches forward before you even get a hand in his hair, dragging his tongue through the mess of spit art left pooling in your hole. groaning at the taste of your pussy.

art watches him, just like patrick watched him. his head resting on your thigh, staring through half lidded eyes with parted lips.

you hold back for as long as you can stand, giving patrick his one on one time with your pussy. moaning at the way his nose nudges against your clit each time he licks a broad stripe over your hole with the flat of his tongue.

when you can feel yourself getting closer, you gently start to guide art's head closer. patrick's hair still in the tight grip of your fist, you're not moving him away.

wide blue eyes flick to your face, hazy and blown out and worried. you smile down at him, 'it's okay, baby."

apparently, that's all go ahead he needs. leaning forward enough to get his mouth back on you.

patrick, who got lost in his own little world, opening his eyes to art mouthing at your clit, lips inches away from his own, has a surprised moan ripping from deep in chest. you feel the rumble of it against your fluttering hole, long and drawn out.

it's like they both have a gravitational pull towards the other, getting closer and closer until patrick's tongue finally brushes against art's. it happens once, twice, three times before they both go still, eyes meeting in a shared moment of realization.

there’s a charged silence, broken only by the sound of your heavy breathing. it’s like the world has paused, waiting for them to decide if they’ll take that last step. you stroke patrick’s hair, steady and reassuring, and he hesitantly leans back in, his movements slow and uncertain.

art’s the first to move, taking patrick's bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a gentle tug. patrick’s eyes flutter closed, a shiver running down his spine. they’re tasting each other now, sucking the taste of you off the others tongue.

it’s hottest fucking thing you’ve ever seen.

you look down at them, at your boys. faces gone soft, eyes fluttered shut as they make-out over your pussy. heat zings up your spine every time their tongues tangle over your clit, chins messy with their spit mixing with the wetness leaking from you.

the smugness you feel only adds to your orgasm. all they needed was a little push.

[thecapricunt1616]

It’s 5:30 am and I literally have been awake for the past 3 hours trying to fall asleep but this fucking guy

This beautiful British blonde FUCK has been plaguing my every brain cell and it’s SICK. Thinking abt early mornings with him and how tender and sweet he’d be GRRRAH (more BTC)

But okok so imagine you’re having a hard time falling back asleep, it’s like 3:45 am but you don’t care, it’s actually a pleasant surprise for you when you wake earlier then normal, because your man isn’t usually far behind.

Like Carmy, he wants to be the first one up, the first one ready, the first one that gets to work. So naturally he’s rousing at 4, taking a good 5 minutes to lay with you and smother you in gentle kisses, light enough to assure you wouldn’t wake too soon, but enough to satisfy himself that he gave you enough love and attention before he got to work.

That is something different between those two. Carmy sees a relationship as a distraction and something he needs to tread carefully with so he doesn’t dedicate too much of his mind or time to it - but Luca? He worships his girl, and he will spend any second possible at your side while still maintaining his regimented routine.

Lucas anxiety comes about time, it’s different than Carmys. Luca is always early, he has mastered knowing the very minute he has to be out of bed and taking the 5 steps to the boat houses bathroom and cutting the water on that takes 3 minutes to come to a comfortable temperature. But until then? He is kissing your cheeks, your nose, your hairline, your neck, your chest, your stomach, your thighs. He’s snuggling you close and whispering how much he loves you, and his plans for the day even if he well knows you’re dead to the world still.

He would work extra minutes and seconds into his morning routine between brushing his teeth and getting dressed and styling his hair he would come and give you a sweet kiss to the head or lips, sometimes gently caressing your hair if you stirred from the action.

But this particular morning, Luca was elated, but a bit confused, to see you looking right back at him when he hit stop on his alarm after the second beep. “Morning, trying to come for my gig as being the early riser in this relationship?” His voice was deep and rich with sleep. He pulled you in, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your back soothingly which caused your eyes to flutter shut at the lovely feeling. He was so warm, he smelt so distinctly him. You nuzzled your face into his bare chest, planting gentle kisses on the skin

“The universe is against me. I feel tired but I’ve been laying with my eyes closed for hours, this is helping though- but I don’t want it to now cause I love you and wanna talk” you said and he chuckled a bit, kissing the top of your head again and giving you a loving squeeze

“I love you, darling. What’s on your mind, mm?” He asked and gently pets your hair. You nuzzle into his neck, a small smile on your lips.

“I’m not telling you cause you work too hard as it is” you said and he smiled himself, snorting a laugh

“So you’re thinking of something you want to eat, got it. Well what is plaguing that pretty mind baby I may have some spare time today” he resumed his gentle back rub, his short nails running along your skin and giving you goosebumps where he touched.

“Lemon posset” you admit and he hums, pressing another kiss to your forehead this time

“And why do you think that’s so hard love? I’ll bring you some back later.” He said and you groan

“Luca you work 10 hours today, I’d rather you be home with me then making me some stupid intricate craving”

“Hush, I can work it out love don’t worry. Just gotta move some things around it’ll be no big deal”

And yeah he’s gonna be home early, with dessert and dinner - just to prove a point that he knows how to manage his time

[pvrkacciosan]

Red Jacket

A/n: this is the official first F1 fic I'm writing, sooooooooooooo, also unedited so if there is any mistakes its because I haven't actually corrected them lol

Synopsis: A simple one of where Charles gets jealous when he sees his girl in any colour other than Ferrari Red after they fight.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc X Fem!reader

Warnings: swearing, slightly possessive Charles, tension between drivers

Word Count: 1.8K

You loved your boyfriend, you really did.

But over the past couple of days, You and Charles had really hit a rough patch, which was natural in any healthy relationship, but it still hurt none the less.

He wasn't just your boyfriend, he was your best friend, and you knew that no matter what happened you could and would always trust him with anything,

But even that fact didn't stop you from currently wanting to yell at him right now.

You could understand and appreciate the line of work he was in, especially with an upcoming triple header of races. Charles was stressed, and you trying to be supportive only seemed to get on his already shorter nerves.

Perhaps you had overstepped, but you might also be too stubborn to back down.

"I'm not going to apologise for making sure my boyfriend is taking care of himself Charles!" - You simply had tried to make him drink some water, Water!

"I can take care of myself Y/n, I don't need you to babysit me"

He turned away from you, his shoulders and back rigid, the muscles in his back squared out in his anger.

"Well I clearly fucking need to Charles, You're not taking care of yourself1 Perhaps I should hire a babysitter, Because I ain't putting up with this shit"

He had emptied out is pockets, dumping his phone onto the table in his drivers room, Even as you watched him, his back still you, It wasn't difficult to here the recognisable mutter of him swearing in french under his breathe.

It wasn't a language you spoke but swearing was universal, reaching for the door, Charles looked over his shoulder at you, barely turning enough to even look at you properly,

"Don't put up with it then" his voice was low and in any other situation you might have welcomed the heat that spread between your legs, but not right now,

The words struck you, upside the head as though a brick had been chucked at you.

"Fine. I won't"

Grabbing the handle you ripped the door wide, storming out, you slammed it so hard behind you that it didn't shut, instead the door rattles against its frame, swinging back over.

Charles wouldn't follow you out like this, not where there was the potential for camera's to catch you too fighting like this, whether that would matter right now or not, you weren't sure.

The staff all dressed in red parted for you as you walked, You missed Carlos as he attempted to ask you what was wrong, upon peering at your expression,

You didn't stop, Even through your haze you could hear him as he ran after you, gently grabbing your elbow he pulled you to a stop,

"Y/n, what is the matter?" there was genuine concern across the face of your boyfriends team mate, he examined your expression before looking back in the direction of Charles driving room,

"Nothing Carlos, it's fine" you quickly wiped away at the tear that rolled down your cheek, you didn't want to believe that Charles might have meant when he said for you to not, deal with this anymore, What had it meant in regards to the two of you.

It wasn't something you wanted to tread over, so when you pulled away from Carlos lightly, he didn't stop you,

"Keep an eye on him for me, Yeah?" He nodded, and then you were moving once more.

Leaving the Ferrari bay, you mindlessly weaved through the crowd of fans, reporters and staff milling about, trying to find an open space were you could simply take a second to rejig your thoughts.

The crowd which seemed never ending streamed on and on,

"Fuck sake." the curse left your lips as you smacked straight into someone, by accident.

A pair of hand extended out to steady you when you stumbled back from the impact,

"Easy there Y/n" when you recognised the familiar voice, some of the tension eased from you.

"Max..." you breathed,

His hands still one your shoulders, he peaked down at you in concern, You had known Charles for years, which by default you had also gotten to know the dutchman, despite everything, Max had always been good to you and had never given you any reason to be anything but friendly around him.

In the past, When you and Charles got together, he feared Max might steal you from him, but Max knew where the line was with you, and had never once tried to cross it.

Perhaps it was because of your friendship, that made it so easy for you to explain things to him. It was not your intention to cry in front of him, but as you spoke you couldn't stop the small whimper and quiver in your voice.

"I yelled at Charles."

You watched as Max's expression quickly turned to one of undertsnaind, and when he cast hs gaze back up to the surrounding people, with phones. He quickly pulled off his jacket, handing it to you.

You hesitated before slipping it on, he began to guide you around the crowd and through a set of doors, it wasn't until you saw all the mechanics that you realised you were inside the Red bull garage.

You stopped dead in your tracks, it felt weirdly wrong being in another teams garage. Max waited for you, and din't move you on until you looked a little more comfortable,

He sat you in the corner, his jacket still wrapped around you body,

"I've got to start getting ready for this race, Here's a headset, you can listen in to the radios, we can talk after okay?" he patted the top of your knee lightly, nodding you watch him grab you a set of headphones, before he darted off to start getting ready for the race.

It felt more then weird to be here instead, you would usually be sitting with Charles while he got ready, saying that your presence helped to keep him level headed beforehand, you couldn't deny that not being with him put you slightly on edge, almost like you couldn't quite get grips on what was going on around you.

But before you knew it, Max came back through, dressed and ready to drive. Out of respect you moved away while he had a briefing with his team, he came to grab you right before he began climbing into his car.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you stood to watch the screen in the garage, feeling the anticipation as the drivers began moving out for the formation lap. Your eyes going straight to the red number 16 car.

As the lights finally went out and the race began, your heart hammered hard in your chest watching as the drivers did what they did best. Race.

☽ - Charles - ☾

It wasn't the pole position, but it was a podium, A win for the team.

Charles should be happy, but without you there ready to congratulate him, it almost felt as though he had crossed at the back of the race.

Removing the steering wheel, and climbing out standing on the halo He waved to the cameras, spotting himself appear on the big screen for the fans in the surrounding stand to watch in HD.

As he unclasped his helmet, his attention snagged back onto the screen, Max, had got the pole position, so it wasn't a surprise when the screen switched to show the inside of the garage, where members of the Red bull team were celebrating, what did surprise him though, was spotting your all too familiar figure there amongst the other team.

Something about the notion made his blood boil, you looked slightly uncomfortable, but what tipped everything over was the jacket you wore, Hugging it too yourself in some version of comfort, and Charles knew exactly who it belonged too.

☽ - Y/n - ☾

You had emerged onto the throng of people moving about, trying to get a glimpse of the drivers who were taking in the feeling of their wins.

Getting closer to the barrier you spotted the red suit, just as he began storming toward the leading driver,

Those around you also seemed to tune in, as Charles body language wasn't exactly one of model sportsman's ship.

He moved towards the Red bull driver, being faster you managed to find Fred, who convinced the security to pull you past the barrier.

Charles was gripping the underside of Max's helmet by the time you approached them, the poor dutchman hadn't even had a full explanation or even time to unattached his helmet.

You were too far away to hear what Charles was saying, which wasn't a bad thing as perhaps the camera might not hear it as well, as you don't think it was the nicest thing when Max roughly jerked his head away from Charles, using both hands to roughly push Charles away from himself.

There was members of staff between them faster then you could comprehend, pulling the two drivers apart.

Choosing in that second was more difficult then it should have been, moving towards Charles, you approached carefully, he met your stare and it seemed to harden as it snagged on the jacket, Max's jacket, still around your body.

The security stayed near but back off as Charles approached you, he didn't seem to heed the camera as he stopped inches fro you,

"Take it off. Now."

You jutted your chin up, "Don't think your exactly in the position to give commands,"

"Y/n.."

"Still need babysitting?" you didn't hide the veiled sarcasm in you voice didn't want to when reminded of the argument.

There was a pleading in his eyes when he looked back to you,

"Ma chérie" he bowed his head, reaching gently to take one of your hands, "I'm sorry, truly," he cut his words short, when you leaned up to kiss him.

You couldn't really stay too mad, not when he had just gotten a podium. The fact he didn't ignore you, was good enough, when you two had argued before it never really lasted too long, having history made it easy to read one another. Provided there was communication.

He rested his forehead to yours, "Take it off."

You pulled back, looking to him now in slight confusion. Charles gave the back of Max's jacket a gently tug,

"You're a Ferrari girl, red is your colour. Forever and always."

Without breaking the eye contact you now had going, no doubt the rolling cameras of fans and reporter were catching ever second of this, you peeled the sleeves of the jacket off behind your back, and when you finally turned around to walk to Max with it.

Charles took it from you, you watched him push it into the other drivers chest, grabbing a Ferrari jackets from Fred, he walked back to your side holding it to you,

"Here." his word left little room for discussion.

Once you had it one, Charles couldn't help but look you up and down, giving a quick nod of approval he left a quick kiss to your forehead before he rushed off to catch up with the other drivers,

You watched on, All throughout the after race ceremonies, Charles continued to watch you, admiring you in the jacket, his jacket.

Hugging you arms around yourself you snuggled into its warmth,

the Red one fit you better anyways.

[sissylittlefeather]

Fools Rush In (where angels fear to tread)

A/N: I don't know what's up with me and elevators right now, but here's a one-shot I hatched after a conversation with @atleastpleasetelephone about what I'd do if I met Elvis in an elevator. This is obviously the fantasy version 😂

Thanks to @ccab for helping me with this one. It was a little rough at times!

Warnings: 18+ SMUT minors DNI, cussing, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, someone has a glass of wine

Word count: ~3k

You work at the hotel, so you're no stranger to this elevator. You ride in it all the time to take things up to guests when they ask for them. Thats kind of been your job since you started here three months ago: fetch-things-for-guests-girl. You're supposed to just be working the front desk but for some reason anytime anyone needs anything, it falls on you to run it up to them. You've run up toothbrushes and newspapers and even trays of room service. That's really not supposed to be your job but you're not sure you can say no when they ask. That's probably why you keep ending up on the elevator.

Today, you brought a guest a sewing kit. He was a nice older gentleman and he asked if you could help him with a button on his shirt. Again, not a thing that's part of your job description but you did it anyway. He even tried to give you a dollar for helping. A sweet gesture, but you assured him it was unnecessary.

Now you're on the elevator headed down. Or at least, you were supposed to be headed down but for some reason the elevator starts rising towards the penthouse. You don't think much about it, not sure which rich or famous person is up there right now. You look at your shoes and notice the toe of the left one is scuffed. You're trying to figure out how that might've happened when the elevator dings and the doors slide open. It takes you a second to look up. But when you do, your heart stops and you do a double take.

Elvis Presley.

And he's alone.

He gives you a small smile and steps into the elevator with you. You can't stop yourself from whispering.

"It's you..." He gives you a sideways look and smiles.

"It's me." You look up at the ceiling and try to politely ignore him, assuming he doesn't need another person fawning over him. That would probably get old fast. You look at the buttons. 30 floors. That's a long time to ride in silence.

"Wouldja push the L for me, honey?" You're rattled out of your deep thought by his smooth baritone. It dawns on you that you're standing in front of the only set of buttons.

"Oh. Yeah, sure." You gently press the lobby button with your finger and look at him sheepishly.

"Thank you." The doors finally slide closed and the elevator begins its descent. You've fantasized about something like this happening for as long as you can remember. He's been your favorite singer since you saw him on Ed Sullivan as a teenager. You're not a kid anymore, though, and you know he's been playing Vegas for about a year now. He's a regular here at the hotel, but he hasn't been here since you've been here. You must've had your head buried in the sand to not know he was here right now.

You chance a quick glance in his direction, trying not to make it obvious that you're looking at him. He's absolutely stunning and it's like you can feel him in the tiny room with you, alive in a way that other people aren't.

"You're staring, sweetheart." He says, just above a whisper. You snap your mouth shut and look away panicked. Your heart rate is through the roof and you can't believe he caught you looking at him. But it's so hard to look away from him knowing he's right there.

"I'm sorry." You whisper it quietly and he chuckles.

"It's okay. Happens all the time." You feel him turn to look at you, but you will yourself to keep your eyes forward. "Besides, I don't mind when pretty girls stare at me."

Your head whips around and your mouth opens again. Did he just call you pretty? Now you're looking directly into his face and he's so breathtaking that you feel like you might pass out.

"You always this speechless or is it me?" He smirks mischievously. You've never been known to be quiet. It's him. You still can't find your voice to answer him, though. His smirk falls and he turns back to the doors, sighing bitterly. "Sometimes it would be nice to not have this effect."

You look at the buttons: you're passing the 19th floor. Still so many to go and goddamnit why can't you talk?!

"Sometimes I wish I'd just stayed a truck driver so I could have normal conversations with pretty girls on elevators."

He did it again. He called you pretty. You have to find your voice. You've got about 16 floors before he walks out of your life forever.

"You probably wouldn't be staying in the penthouse of this hotel then." Good God. What on earth made you say that?! You finally find your voice and that's what comes out?!

He chuckles and looks back at you.

"That's the damn truth, honey. I guess I should be thankful for what I have."

"I should be thankful for the opportunity to talk to you like this, but I can't seem to make words. Nobody's perfect." You finally lift your eyes to meet his and he gives a little snort-laugh.

"No, nobody's perfect. Except angels. And I'm not so sure you ain't one." Now it's your turn to laugh.

"Me? Let me assure you, I'm as human as they come."

"Good. Me too." You stare at each other in silence for a bit, both of you taking in the other. "You work at the front desk?"

"I do. I'm the errand girl." You cringe again. He doesn't need to know that.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, you forget your comb or need a set of nail clippers, I'm your girl." It's like your mouth has disconnected from your brain and is working all on its own.

More silence. The elevator is playing a song you recognize and you hum along to try to soothe the awkwardness. To your utter shock, he hums with you. When you pick up the higher harmony, your voices blend and it gives you goosebumps. He doesn't tell you that it gives him goosebumps too.

"Hey listen, I-" He's cut off when the elevator reaches its destination and the doors slide open.

"EP, we thought we'd lost you!" One of his bodyguards hollers and they hustle him off the elevator. He turns to look at you one last time and you wave awkwardly. He smiles and lets himself be whisked away. You put your palm on your forehead as the doors slide closed again.

A wave?! Seriously?!

Then you realize you were supposed to get off in the lobby too and kick yourself for your idiocy.

******

The next day, you come in to work like usual and the hotel is abuzz with the fact that Elvis is back and playing shows. Thats why you didn't know he was there yesterday: he'd just gotten in. You think back to your encounter with him and try not to cry. He called you pretty twice and what did you do? Acted like a complete fool.

Your shift ends at 4:30 and you're just about to pack up and leave when there's a call down to the front desk. Your coworker picks it up and talks to whoever is on the line. At one point, he looks at you strangely. You're not listening to the conversation, but the way he looks at you makes you nervous. Finally, he hangs up.

"I need you to make one last run."

"Mark, I'm almost off the clock. You can't handle it?"

"They specifically asked for 'errand girl'. That has to be you." You sigh deeply and put your purse back under the desk.

"What is it and where?"

"A comb and some nail clippers to the penthouse." You look up quickly.

"Wait, really?"

"Yep. That's what the guy said." Your heart skips a beat and you stand there staring at Mark. "You better go..."

You nod and gather the two things from the place where you keep all the supplies. Then, you make your way to the elevator. Your stomach is in knots the whole way up. It has to be him asking for you, right?

******

Elvis paces the floor in the living room of his penthouse suite. He's only been awake for an hour or so, but he's been thinking about you since he got off the elevator last night. When he told Joe to call down and ask for you, Joe looked at him like he'd lost his mind. But he has to see you at least one more time to make sure what he's feeling isn't real. He had half a conversation with you. Why can't he get you out of his head?

The doors slide open and he takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. You step out of the elevator and look around cautiously.

"Come on in, honey." He smiles awkwardly and you almost giggle. You never dreamed he was capable of awkwardness.

"I brought your things." For some reason, it's a little easier to talk to him this time. He laughs.

"Oh, right. Thank you." He walks to you and takes the comb and nail clippers from you and sets them on the table. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Sure! White wine?" You try to smile as he walks to the bar and fixes you a glass of wine. "Listen, I'm sorry about yesterday."

"What do you mean?"

"You probably get tired of people being all starstruck." He hands you the glass and shrugs.

"I'm used to it."

"Doesn't make it right. Can we just start over? I'm y/n." You hold your hand out for him to shake and he takes it and kisses the back of it gently.

"I appreciate the gesture, honey, but we don't need to start over. I'm Elvis. It's nice to meet you." You giggle softly and pull your hand back.

"See you can't do stuff like that!"

"Like what?" His eyes twinkle with mirth.

"Be all charming and cute like that."

"You think I'm cute?" You roll your eyes.

"You have to know you're cute. This isn't breaking news."

"I still like to hear you say it." There's a moment where he's looking down at you and it feels like he wants to kiss you. And he does, he really really does, but he's nervous all of a sudden. He clears his throat and sits down on the couch, spreading his legs wide. He pats the cushion next to himself. "Come sit with me."

You walk over and perch on the edge of the couch by him, sipping your wine and trying to think of something to say that won't sound dumb.

"Are you glad to be back in Vegas?" You wince. You did not succeed.

"Yes and no. I love performing for people. It's my favorite thing. Gets a little lonesome here, though." He's not sure why he's telling you this, but he just feels comfortable talking to you.

"Your... your wife doesn't come with you?" He shakes his head.

"No, she doesn't. And she's not really... I mean..."

"She's not good company?" He sighs.

"No, not really."

"Hmm." You're not eager to be the other woman, but he seems so desperately lonely that it's hard to imagine leaving him here.

"Enough about that. You wanna come to my show tonight?"

"Elvis, it's been sold out for months."

"I'm Elvis Presley. If I want you there, they'll build a table for you." He shrugs nonchalantly, but you can tell it matters if you say yes.

"I'd love to see it." He looks at you with his eyes sparkling.

"Yeah?"

"Of course. I've loved you since 1956. Why wouldn't I want to see you perform?" He raises his eyebrows and you wish you'd kept that part to yourself.

"That long?" You nod sheepishly. He sits up and puts his hand on your cheek. "You're somethin' else, sweetheart. You sure you're not an angel?" A soft laugh falls from your lips and you take a sip from your glass.

"Not an angel. Just a fan." He shakes his head.

"No. Not just a fan." Without warning, he pulls your face to his and presses his lips against yours. Fireworks explode inside you and it feels like you might die with the sensation of his soft lips. After a few seconds, he pulls back, sets your wine glass on the table, and presses his forehead to yours. "You're about the prettiest thing I've ever seen. And you seem to understand me in ways I didn't think possible. I'm pretty sure you're my angel."

You look deeply into his eyes and it's like your souls touch. All of a sudden he's a part of you and the idea of being without him breaks you.

"Elvis, I..."

"I know, honey." He dives back into kissing you, parting his lips to slide his tongue into your mouth. His hand grips your hip and he pulls you onto his lap, straddling his thighs. He mumbles against your lips. "Can I make love to you?"

"Yes... oh God, yes." You moan into his mouth as he lifts you and carries you into the bedroom. He lays you on the bed gently and hovers over you, rolling his hips forward to meet yours.

"My beautiful angel. I want to give you everything."

"Everything I am is yours, Elvis. Please..." He groans and runs his hands over your body, stopping to memorize the gentle curves of you. You lean into his touch, desperate to feel him on your skin. In a shockingly small amount of time, he has you both stripped naked, his body pressed against yours in a feverish frenzy of passion. His hands make hot trails over your flesh, followed quickly by his lips pressing desperate kisses to you. You've never experienced anything like this: the unbridled need for connection and sultry heat as it possesses you.

When he presses his tongue into you, it's like you've been waiting for him your whole life. Your body trembles with need and he moves his tongue on your clit with such fervor that you'd swear he's trying to devour you whole. But the ecstatic pleasure that rushes through you causes you to arch into him, begging for more. He obliges, sliding two of his long fingers into your pussy to tickle and tease you on the inside. You whimper and cry out, desperate for the release that's building in your hips.

"Elvis... god..." You moan, overcome with desire. He licks and finger-fucks you harder than you've ever experienced and you dance on the edge of an explosive orgasm.

"Cum for me, angel." He whispers into you, obsessively chasing your pleasure. It doesn't take long for you to do what he tells you, leaping over the edge into oblivion as your climax overtakes you, spilling out onto his hand as you shudder and pulse and scream his name.

"Elvis! Fuck!" He licks you through it, coaxing more ecstasy out of you as you cum harder than you ever have. When he feels your clit soften and your body relax, he pulls back, lips and chin glistening, and crawls up your body.

His cock aches to be inside you, to feel you wrapped around him and connected to him in an undeniable way. He kisses your neck and shoulder and cheek until he finally lands back at your mouth. You position him at your entrance and roll your hips forward, begging him to fill you.

"Such an eager little pussy. You want me to fuck you, angel?" He whispers it in your ear and you swear you could cum just from his voice.

"Y-yes..." He thrusts forward, his cock pushing into you halfway. You yelp and he stops to give you time to adjust to the size of him. As your pussy relaxes around him, he presses deeper until his hips meet yours and his dick is fully inside you.

"How does it feel?" You whimper and sweat.

"S-so good. Don't stop."

"Oh, my angel, I'm won't stop. Not until I know you're fully satisfied." He groans as he begins to pump into you with more speed and intensity. Your breasts bounce and he bends down to kiss you as his cock pounds you, over and over again. He fucks you like this for a while before he pulls out and rolls you over on your stomach. You moan as he pushes into you from behind, pressing his lips to your back and shoulders repeatedly.

The overwhelming sensation of being filled and fucked from behind threatens to push you into another orgasm. He slides his hand between you and the mattress to reach your clit and run over and around it with his fingertips. The orgasm crashes into you like a freight train as you scream into the mattress and cum on his dick.

"That's it, angel... I'm so close." Your pussy squeezes him and he grunts, no longer able to hold back. His cock throbs and fills you with his release in the aftershocks of your own climax. He whispers in your ear as his body jerks into you. "Yes, honey, yes..."

For a bit, he lays there with his head on your shoulder, the sweat dripping off of his hair onto your back. Then, he pulls out and rolls you over, collapsing on your chest and breathing heavily.

You run your fingers through his hair and hum again. He closes his eyes and soaks in the intimacy of being this close with you. The heavy weight of loneliness that's usually in his chest has dissipated and it feels in this moment like he'll never be lonely again. He looks up at you from where he's settled between your breasts.

"Stay with me."

"Tonight after the show?"

"Forever." It's crazy to consider. You've known each other less than 24 hours. But you hear the word as it exits your lips.

"Yes."

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist;

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley

[merakiui]

marks and praise for our favorite tako please, if it hasn't already been asked! Thank you!

(nsfw asks)

marks — do they like being marked? do they like marking their partners?

Yes!! I think Azul loves it when you leave little hickeys and love bites in private areas. He might protest or complain weakly if you want to mark him in areas that are difficult to hide (because "Appearances, (Name)! Appearances!"), but the truth is that he secretly enjoys the idea of someone knowing he belongs to you. >:) perhaps, once he's gotten more comfortable with his body, he'll enjoy it when you kiss his stomach and leave marks there and between his thighs. It just makes him feel so loved and he has this inkling of pride that bubbles up when he admires the marks in the mirror.

As for when he's marking you, nothing can compare to the marks left in the wake of his tentacles. orz it's a guilty pleasure of his to see the sucker marks and bruises canvas your skin after he's detached every appendage from your body. It feeds a possessive part of his soul to keep you as his, marking you as his beloved angelfish. <3

praise — do they like being praised? is there anything specific they like being praised for? do they like praising their partner(s)?

There are two sides to this. On one hand, outside of intimacy, if you praise Azul it immediately goes to his head and he gets so pompous. Compliment surface level things (his business acumen or his taste in interior design and decor) and he feels like a god sculpted in your own image. But if you get down to the facets he's most insecure of and genuinely praise those parts, even outright loving and accepting them, he's somewhat wary and will tread with caution. Sometimes you'll have to reinforce the fact that you do truly love him, even the parts he may not like himself.

The second side....... you praise Azul and it goes to his other head. :3 he will fold after one seductively spoken "good boy." He is a simple creature who feeds off of your validation, especially when it comes to sex. Please tell him he's doing good in bed, that it feels amazing, that you like when he does certain things. He needs to know you like it—that you like him. Do this and he'll be over the moon!!!

There's no shortage of sweetness when it comes to praising you. He loves and admires you most ardently. But sometimes Azul can sound patronizing when he praises you in bed. It's all playful and you know, beneath the teasing, he truly means it. Sometimes he's just a touch mean, though. He can't help it. Seeing your tearful expression or the way you fall apart when you try to take a second tentacle makes him want to bully you a bit. >_< he'll gently coax you in such a soft, lilting voice, praising you for doing your best and working so hard for him. Aren't you good at pleasing him? Such a darling angelfish.

He'll always praise you so fondly in and out of the bedroom. Even when you aren't around, he's mentioning you if he's reminded of you or if you happen to come up in conversation. He's openly praised you so many times to Jade and Floyd that at this point the eels wonder if this is the real Azul. But Azul, who keeps all of his cards close to his chest and never allows any weakness or emotion to be exploited, is unable to hold back when he's in love. And that's very apparent to those who know him well.

[traumxrei-archive]

【 ii. rose petal wounds 】

summary: from the confines of their study, yuu spots riddle doing an odd task— trimming roses in the garden. wait, why was riddle doing gardenwork…? was this another prank by floyd? either way, yuu had to find out.

word count: 1.2k

author’s note: idk if you can tell, but i absolutely love teasing riddle hehehe (also doesn’t dumple’s art of riddle look so cute ?)

[ the perfect debutante series | or read on ao3 (coming soon) ]

Distraction, it seemed, came in many shapes and forms. And for Yuu, it came in the color red. There was a flash of red in the corner of their vision. And they allowed themself to be distracted, their gaze following the color to their window.

Yuu was supposed to be putting together the final expenses list for the butler. But never mind what they were supposed to be doing.

What they saw beyond the window was far more interesting.

"Kalim?"

"Oh! Yes, master?"

"What is Riddle doing in the garden?"

Beyond their window was a view of the estate's garden. Part of the ball would be held there, amidst the rose bushes and fountains. And lo and behold, wading through the rose bushes with a pair of pruning scissors was...Riddle.

Riddle was Riddle. Prim and proper, befitting of the Roseheart name. Always ready to help straighten someone's apron at a moment's notice, with conduct and rules at the tip of his tongue.

He was also a bit naive and a lot stubborn, a combination that made it impossible for Yuu to guess why he was in the garden. Maybe it was another prank by Floyd. Or maybe it was his own bullheadedness leading him down another rabbit hole.

"Well," Kalim seemed to hesitate, his earrings jingling as he tilted his head closer. "Riddle told me not to tell you, but..."

"But...?" They prompted, trying to sound innocent to Kalim's ears. They were sure Kalim would let down his guard soon.

"But well...he wasn't satisfied with the roses in the garden!" Once Kalim started it was hard to get him to stop. "We were on a walk yesterday whilst Master was away— just checking on how the flow of the party would be, because that’s important, Riddle said— when Riddle found the rose bushes needed more...pruning."

They folded their arms, "What about the gardener?"

"The gardener...aha..." Kalim looked even more nervous now. "She stormed off after Riddle's questioning."

Ah. Now that was a problem indeed. Riddle wasn't the most unfriendly person, but his words came across as quite confident at times. Confidence and arrogance tread a thin line in the eyes of others, especially those who aren’t familiar with Riddle’s mannerisms. It was possible that the gardener got fed up with being questioned.

"Alright. I'll be taking a break in the gardens then," They brushed off their slacks, neatening their desk before standing. "When tea time arrives, please tell Ruggie to serve it in the garden."

"A picnic! Yes, Master!" They very gently patted Kalim's head, careful not to disturb the ribbon that they were sure Jamil worked hard to tie.

It wasn't very hard to make their way to the gardens. And it was easier still to find Riddle. The garden was empty save for the single maid wielding the shears with a vice, muttering to himself lightly.

"-unacceptable state," Riddle muttered as he snipped off some overgrown leaves, bending down to get a fallen rose. "Master wouldn't be happy about– ah–!"

Yuu's eyes widened at the sight of blood staining Riddle's glove red, and before they could think about it they had stepped forward, taking Riddle's wrist in their hand.

Riddle blinked, "M-Mas...ter?"

"Ah, it's getting on your apron," They tugged Riddle's hand closer, blood dripping onto the grass. "Does it hurt?"

Bewildered, Riddle shook his head, "It…stings."

"Slowly take off your glove, and sit down," They instructed, turning toward the house. "I'll get some bandages."

"Y-You shouldn’t!" Riddle's uninjured hand grabbed their sleeve. "It would be my failure as a proper maid if I made my Master do such a menial task.” Ah. Riddle's stubbornness tended to pop up at the most inconvenient times, it seemed.

Yuu sighed. When Riddle got like this, there was only one thing to do.

"Maid Rosehearts, I would like to treat your wound personally, as you were injured tending to my gardens," Yuu said with a smile. "I hope that you will listen to your Master's selfish wishes."

Riddle looked torn. There was an adorable frown on his face as he continued to think. His obedience to rules and courtesy made this trick handy for more than one occasion, and the outcome was always the same.

The maid finally opened his mouth, "...Of course, Master. Please do as you wish."

It didn't take Yuu long to get the bandages and disinfectant, especially after they ran into Jamil. (The longhaired maid sighed, "Was it Kalim or Silver this time?" They smiled sheepishly before answering, "Actually, it was Riddle." Even the ineffable Jamil had a hard time keeping his expression neutral when he heard that.) And it only took another moment to get back to the garden.

Riddle was sitting on the grass obediently, his back pin straight as they approached, "Welcome back, Master."

Yuu sat down and took his hand again, "Let's clean your hand first." They carefully used disinfectant to clean off the blood around the wound, before cleaning the wound itself. Riddle flinched slightly. It seemed that they should quicken their pace. They carefully wrapped his hand with the bandages.

"All done," They looked up to see Riddle staring. How long had he been looking this way? The red-haired maid immediately looked away with a cough. His cheeks tinted, and they vaguely wondered if it was due to the heat or embarrassment. Either way, it was a lovely look on the usually stern maid.

"Thank you, Master," Riddle bowed slightly, flexing his hand. "If I may ask, how did you know that I was here?"

"I was working when I saw you from my window," It wasn’t necessarily a lie. It was a white lie. They weren’t going to throw Kalim under the bus, since they did get effectively distracted by Riddle’s hair. "I also got these."

They dropped a pair of gardening gloves onto Riddle's lap, "Gardening...gloves?"

"If you want to keep pruning, I want you to do it safely. And besides," Yuu grinned as they pulled out another pair of gloves and shears. "I'll help you out this time."

"Master!" Riddle looked absolutely horrified at the thought. They almost chuckled. "You are going to inherit the Duke's title soon, you mustn't spend your time doing something so trivial as gardening!"

"Then what if I ask you to teach me?" Yuu said before they stood up, dancing away from where Riddle was trying to take their gloves. "As a way to broaden my horizons?"

Riddle huffed, brushing off his skirts and petticoats, ready to go after them, "A maid cannot teach their Master."

"I give you permission to," They waved over Riddle's shoulder. "Is it tea time already?"

Ruggie looked to be carrying a picnic basket, "We're getting to it, shishishi~"

Ruggie's laughter made Riddle sputter slightly, "T-Tea out here?"

"Riddle! Did you get hurt?" Kalim was also running toward them, his apron flying wildly behind him. It seemed that he had a tray of cakes in his hands. It was a wonder that none of them fell as he was running.

Riddle sighed, clearly defeated, "I am fine now. Master has tasked me with teaching them how to prune roses." Yuu beamed at Riddle’s cooperativeness. It seemed that Riddle had finally given in.

Ruggie spread a picnic blanket over the sunny ground, just as Kalim set down the cakes. And Riddle… He started on the tea. Tea was his specialty after all. They sat on the blanket next to Ruggie as they waited. There was a time for arguing over technicalities, and there was a time to serve. For now, they would look forward to Riddle’s tea.

thank you for reading ^^ if you’d like to read more, check out my masterlist ! like the art ? look at more of dumple's works on insta !

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[stanfanfiction]

Taste of You - Ken x fem!reader - PART 4.5 (BONUS)

So I had initially planned to have a double dom!/sub! Chapter where Ken and the reader switched roles halfway through, but I decided I wanted them separate despite them happening back to back. SOO if you haven’t read the first part you can find it in my Masterlist, otherwise have fun and I hope you enjoy <3

Warnings: 18+ ONLY / smuttyyy smut / fingering / dom! Ken / desperate Ken / praise k!nk / / smut / reader might be slowly losing her mind but she’s fine with it / kinda some non-con but reader is into it / spanking / edging / overstimming / this one goes harder than any of the chapters before so, if that might be intimidating or possibly triggering for you, tread softly. Always take care of yourself first <3

Alrighty. Have fun, besties. 🖤🖤

“Hey.”

Ken's voice broke through your sleep, and you blinked your eyes open. The room was bright with the day's sunlight, and you had a moment of struggle to come to, you had been so deeply asleep.

The moment your eyes adjusted, you looked up and saw Ken beside you, kneeling, his cock looking painfully hard and a smirk on his face. You attempted to move but realized your wrists were bound above your head tightly, and you saw Ken's fist clenched around a leather belt in his right hand. You sucked in air sharply, already overwhelmed when you hadn't even been fully awake a whole minute ago.

Ken leaned over you now, your mind racing as he stared down at you, kissing you lovingly before nipping at your lower lip and running the belt gently up your thigh.

"Now," his words made you already want to tremble, "it's my turn."

You tried to sit up but he had definitely made sure your restraints wouldn’t budge, and your mind raced on how to get out of this, not being ready for anything this quick after waking up.

Ken *was* ready though, and he ran the belt from up your thigh to your stomach, and you squirmed.

“What word do I need to listen for to stop?” He said, voice husky, his face inches from yours as he leaned on his arm next to you.

“Ken -“

“Not that one, I won’t allow it. I *want* to hear you say that.”

“No, no, Ken, I need you to let me out for a little while.”

He watched you and you pleaded with your eyes. “Please? Just let me wake up a moment, get some water?”

He ponded for a second but then agreed, untying your wrists and you sighed when you had your hands back to yourself. “Thank you.”

Ken helped you off the bed and trailed behind as you went to the kitchen for a drink. You were having a bit of a deer-in-the-headlights moment, kind of self conscious and not quite sure how to react to Ken right now, who, despite always having a bit of a rough side to him during sex lately, seemed like he was going to go way harder than before. Which you liked but you *were* actually anxious at not knowing what all he had in mind, and the fact that he might have developed a playful vendetta after last night.

You jumped a little after filling your cup with water, turning around to see him standing so close to you, you weren’t sure how you didn’t brush against him when you turned. He wore his black denim pants - the ones you had told him you thought made his ass look the best - and was shirtless, like usual.

He nodded towards your glass impatient. “Drink.”

“I’m working on it.”

“Mmmm, okay, well work faster,” he reached for you and tickled your waist a little while smiling, which made you laugh and jump and you spilled the water on both of you, but mostly on Ken.

He smiled and let out a small chuckle, then wrapped his fingers in your hair and brought your face forward to his now wet chest. “Drink.”

You looked up at him through your lashes, feeling playful. “And what if I refuse?”

He cocked his head. “I don’t remember giving you the option of ‘No.’” He pulled your face to his skin and you licked up one of his pecs where the water was still dripping off. Ken inhaled sharply, eyes closing for a moment as he let himself experience your mouth on his body. You kept your eyes on his face as you slowly worked your way down his abs, kissing and licking any trickles of water left, and Ken moaned quietly, keeping his hand in your hair.

You reached for his cock but the moment your hand touched it, he grabbed your wrist, eyes open and looking down at you now.

“I didn’t say you could do that.”

Well THIS was definitely new, but you decided to have fun with it. You smirked as you leaned forward to to take him in your mouth but instead Ken tugged on your hair, encouraging you to stand up. You looked at him and pretended to pout. You saw him soften a bit, especially his eyes, and he had the look he always got before he would tenderly pleasure you for what seemed like hours until you would drift off together. You reached for his cock again, though, and that seemed to snap him out of it, like he remembered what it was he had planned to do.

“I said, I didn’t give you permission to do that,” he said in your ear as he folded both of your arms behind your back, elbows bent, both of your arms being held together by his large hand. He began marching you back to the bedroom briskly, forcing you chest-first onto the bed, bent over with your feet still on the floor.

“Ken,” you giggled. “What are you planning to -“ you were cut off with a sharp pain on your ass, Ken having smacked you unexpectedly with the belt. You screamed when he did it again before you could take a breath, Ken holding you down onto the bed, his grip around your arms bruising.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” He purred, and the sound of him repeating his praises back to you made you knees buckle.

You shook just a little from the sudden assault, shocked at how much you actually were enjoying it. You wondered if you should play along or tease him, and the latter got the better of you. You turned your head as best as you could in your current position, your eyes twinkling as they met his.

“What if I don’t want to?”

You saw a hint of amusement in Ken’s eye before he brought the belt down on you again, and you jumped, back arching from the mixture of pleasure and pain.

Ken leaned over you now, his partial body weight pushing you further into the bed. “That’s alright. I’ll just have to make you.”

You moaned loudly at his words and Ken stood again, continuing his lashing from before. You were trembling a little when he hit the fourth lash, and your knees buckled by the sixth, the sensation so much sharper and intense than it was when he’d use his hand.

“Ken, please -“ you choked out as the belt came down again, and he paused, hearing the way your voice cracked a little.

He leaned down over you again, hand still holding your arms hostage. “So you gonna be good for me, y/n?”

You nodded, unhappy with how quickly you had relented, but also desperately needing some time to recover.

“Mmmm,” Ken hummed, smiling, and gently placing a kiss on your ear. “I love you so much, y/n.”

You breathed as a warmth filled your chest as he stood up, then landed two more harsh lashes on your ass. You screamed, and he released your arms finally, you grasping the covers to hold onto something but also to deal with the pain.

Ken took both of you ass cheeks in his hands and massaged them gently, admiring his work, watching your body tremble and hearing the little whimpers coming out of your mouth.

He gave you a moment to recover, your head spinning, as he forced open your legs with his own, standing between them. He held your hips while he kissed softly down your back, enjoying the little shivers that happened because of his touch, and once you had calmed down a little, he stood up again.

You felt the belt run alongside your vulva and you clenched. “Oh, shit, Ken, no, please not -“

“Shhhh, shhhh,” he soothed. “Not this time. Just wanted to see your reaction.”

You felt one of his fingers enter you then, his other hand holding down your lower back.

“No moving,” he said, and you bit into the sheets beneath you to maintain some form of mental control as he immediately found your special spot and began rubbing his finger in circles on it. He added in another after a moment, and you left out a soft moan but remained as motionless as you could.

“You’re actually way better at this than I was,” he mused. “I actually prefer you moving all you like.” He leaned over your again, kissing the side of your neck. “I just wanted to see how well you could obey.”

“I’ll get you back,” you exhaled shakily as Ken’s fingers sped up, pressing into your spot *just* right.

Ken smiled against your hair and kissed the side of your head. “I’ll look forward to that,” he said, continuing finger fucking you until he knew you were close.

You expected him to edge you on like you had to him, but right when you were about to climax he added in a third finger and fucked in and out of you *so* perfectly that you cried into the covers as you came, Ken humming and complimenting you the whole time.

“You’re so good to me. You stretch around my fingers so perfectly, y/n. Always cumming to make me happy. Always letting me do whatever I want with you.”

Your exhaled loudly as you were coming down, still mildly dizzy from so much sensation so quickly, but before you could ground yourself fully, Ken kneeled between your legs and held you open for him, firmly licking a stripe from your clit up to your opening.

You gasped, feeling incredibly sensitive and you struggled against his hold.

“Need a moment,” you begged, trying to pull yourself away, but Ken didn’t let up, talking to you in between sucking and licking and little nips.

“I don’t remember you letting up when you were trying to exhaust me,” he said cheekily, and if you’d had the energy you’d have kicked him away.

“My sweet y/n can take whatever I give her, right?”

“Shut up,” you groaned, slowly losing the ability to control your body.

“You’re so wet for me.” He put three fingers back in you for emphasis, and you cried out, bucking into them unintentionally thus causing them to penetrate you deeper.

“I can’t…I can’t, please, ah…” Your voice was losing its usual volume and quivered on the last moan.

“I think you can.” Ken sucked hard on your clit again, and you sobbed, begging him to give you a break until your legs gave out and Ken caught you effortlessly, all fight left in you gone.

“How does it feel to be exhausted by your lover?” He purred into your ear, your naked body limp in his arms as he sat you onto his lap on the bed. “How does it feel to be completely under my control?”

Your head lolled back onto his shoulder, and you moaned an answer incoherently. Ken turned your chin gently to him and kissed you deeply.

You felt yourself being picked up bridal-style and placed down onto the bed, your head resting on the pillows, your body relaxing into the mattress. You opened your eyes as Ken lowered himself on top of you, propping up on his forearms, and running his fingers along your face, kissing you tenderly.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled into your mouth. “So perfect. You always let me get lost in you. I love it so much.”

Your brain and body started feeling connected again after awhile, Ken loving on you gently the entire time, making sure you felt surrounded by him.

You sighed in relief when you felt fully back to reality, despite some sleepiness settling in. You laced your hands behind his neck, and returned the soft smile that he gave you.

“Hi.”

He kissed your forehead. “Hi. How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

“But good?”

You giggled. “Yes, good.”

He smiled bigger. “Good.” He took your hands in his. “I”m going to need these.”

“Ohhhh god, oh, god, uh, Ken, Ken wait, can we talk about -“

Ken had already tightly imprisoned your hands in the pantyhose rope you had made the night before, and was fastening them to the headboard before you had a chance to physically react.

You tugged at the restraints, and Ken looked down upon you lying there, helpless and flushed beneath him. His pupils were blown and your stomach flipped - oh, fuck, he was *SO* turned on right now.

“Ken, take it easy on me?” You squeaked as he grabbed your hips roughly. He kneeled in front of you and lifted your hips up so your knees hung over his shoulders, your vulva directly in front of his face. He was so tall that you were partially lying upside down, your bound hands making it impossible for you to push or balance yourself on anything.

He winked at you - motherfucker WINKED - and then his mouth was on you, your hip bones held tightly, and you shuddered intensely as he began devouring you roughly.

Ken watched you, trying to ignore how much his cock was hurting right now from straining against its skin, your entire being fully under his power. Your eyes were shut and the noises you were making were spectacular, and he loved how stretched out you were between the restraints and his grip. The only control you really had over yourself right now was what you could say because your body was already so tired that you couldn’t even try to get your legs off of his shoulder.

“So fucking sweet,” he said, pulling his mouth back just long enough for you to get in a deep breath, and then he was consuming you again, tongue gliding and poking and tickling every inch of you he could find. You yelped when you felt his lips suck harshly on your inner thigh, knowing he had marked you, and then shook when he repeated it on the other leg before dipping his tongue back into you.

“Ken,” you started begging again. “Please.” Your voice was becoming a little hoarse, you had lost all track of time and had no clue how long this had been going on.

“Yes, y/n?” He breathed dreamily, like he was in heaven, going back to lazily circling your clit with his tongue.

“I can’t-“

“Yes, you can, and you will. You still owe me one more after this one.”

Your eyes shot open. “One..one more?”

His eyes shone, his mouth still on you, and he winked again.

Something about all of that - the sudden knowing that he wasn’t going to stop until you’d climaxed three times?!, the look of pure adoration on his face being buried in you, and how hot this entire scenario actually was despite how dizzy and exhausted you were - hit at once and you came hard. You hadn’t expected it and you cried out loudly while Ken continued pleasuring you until you began to come down again, heaving loudly, tiny sobs escaping your lips as your eyes leaked.

Ken lowered your hips back to the bed and kissed you deeply, your juices mixing with his saliva, and his tongue ran against yours and your lower lip. He moaned into you loudly, cradling the back of your head with his hand until your breathing calmed and he stopped kissing long enough to look down at you.

“You’re doing so good.”

Tears definitely began coming now. “Please, Ken, I can’t do anymore right now.”

His face showed that he knew you weren’t playing, and that he cared deeply. “I won’t hurt you.”

You nodded, sniffling a little. “I know, I’m just….I wasn’t expecting this much.”

He kissed you deeply again, just one time, and smiled down at you. “I won’t do anymore until you’re ready.”

To your surprise, he reached up and untied your hands, kissing each one as he let them free, then kissing around your wrists where the minor imprints from the hose had rubbed in a little too tightly.

“Ken,” you breathed, “can we like, do the last one later?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I said I won’t do anymore until you’re ready.”

“What if I’m not ready until like, later tonight?”

He smirked. “I don’t think that’ll be the case.”

“Ken.” You squirmed underneath him, and unfortunately your hips moved into his *just right,* because his eyes closed and he groaned from the back of his throat.

“You’re making it really hard to let you recover,” he almost huffed, his eyes dark, and the way he was looking down at you gave you the most intense, weirdly submissive desire you had ever felt. His broad shoulders attached to his slightly strained neck, his chiseled arms and pecs and abs around you, on top of you, those blue eyes dangerously dark, his hair looking that perfect just-woke-up messy.

You whimpered at the sight and the feeling of him, just…everywhere around you, and he sucked in a sharp breath hearing you. You knew all hope was lost then.

“Ken,” you whispered, your hand cradling his face the way he loved, and he leaned into it and hummed the same way he always did. “Just…please be gentle.”

“I’ve got you.” Ken pulled you a little father down the bed, just below where your head touched the pillows, and unzipped his jeans, ridding himself of them quickly. You weren’t sure if you had ever seen his member looking that strained before, and you shuddered, trying to prepare yourself. He towered over you as he pulled both of your legs up and apart, resting your ankles by his face so as he bent over you, your legs were being pushed back to leave you completely open for him.

You had the slightest moment of panic, from where you weren’t sure, other than you had never been this overwhelmed from sex before.

“Please don’t hurt me.” The words escaped your mouth before you knew it, and a tear streamed down your cheek.

Ken looked at you, forcing his face to calm down so you saw him as he always wanted you to see him, as someone who loved you. He kissed right above one of your ankles. “I would never hurt you.”

He wanted to take you then, bury his cock into you roughly and you would scream his name is ecstacy and you would cum trembling and falling apart completely and you would adore how he could make you feel this way, but he paused, realizing you needed a little more care before he could continue.

Hooking your knees over his shoulders again, he lowered himself over you, and you gripped the sheets, waiting for him to penetrate you. Instead, he took one of your nipples into his mouth softly, moaning as his lips just barely sucked on it, his tongue tracing circles around it that made you shiver, but he watched you as the tiniest of smiles ghosted across your face, your eyes closed, and he knew he was on the right track.

Your moans sounded so soft and sweet as he did this to your other nipple, your body relaxing and after a bit your hands running through his hair, which *he* loved.

Your breathing returned to normal, he touched his forehead to yours. You opened your eyes and immediately became lost in his.

“Hi.”

You giggled a little. “Hi.”

He watched you closely as he lowered his hips into yours, his cock rubbing alongside your vulva, and you jerked the tiniest bit from the sensation.

“How is that?” He asked, doing it again, a little harder.

He was going to wait for your reply but wanted to test something. “Think you can take it for me, like a good girl?”

He was enthralled when your mouth dropped open a little, your sex-dazed face looking so ready to be fucked, and he contemplated fucking into your mouth for a moment before forcing his mind back into focus.

“Can you handle just a little more?” He pressed his tip into your opening, and you automatically clenched tightly, causing a deep rumble in his chest.

His eyes met yours, dangerous, almost past the point of no return. “You ready to prove who you fucking belong to?”

Your eyes went wide as he bottomed out in with a single thrust and you both moaned in unison, your nails digging into his arms, your head back.

Ken leaned down to suck on your throat right before his second thrust, as swift and harsh as the first, and he swore if he didn’t want to make certain you came again that he would lose it within a matter of seconds. You pulsed around him, so warm and tight, and he growled as he began to fuck into you, making every thrust count, as you cried out every time he bottomed out into you, leveraging your legs so you were unable to do anything other than lay there and try to breathe.

“Ken,” your mangled cry caught his attention but he didn’t stop his movements.

“Need more, y/n? Need some more, like my good girl?”

He leveraged himself above you so instead of your hips meeting horizontally, he pushed your legs back so your hips were slightly off the bed and you were held open for him to sink into almost vertically.

He sunk directly into you, your legs straight and resting on his shoulders, his hands on either side of you holding himself up, and you screamed and fisted the sheets over your head.

Your body began to tremble now, and you had no control over it as the pain of being penetrated so deeply got mixed with how fucking *GOOD* it felt too, and watching Ken being the one to do this to you whenever you felt you could keep your eyes open for a moment made it all the better.

You *did* feel really overwhelmed, though. The dizziness from before had returned and was slowly threatening to take over completely.

You must have shown signs of distress because you heard Ken speaking over you, although not letting up on his thrusts. “Hey,” he soothed, “are you okay?”

“I’m…overstimulated..” you choked.

“Mmmmm…” Ken ponders this, leaning down so his hips were literally touching your own. “Do you need me to stop?”

You shook your head quicker than you had expected to, and if you had been looking you would have seen Ken smile. You felt his hot breath caress your ear before biting your lobe.

“You can take it for me, though, can’t you?”

If you had been asked to describe the next few minutes you were never would have been able to, as your senses became thrown into what you could only describe as chaos. Ken fucked you, held you, sucked on you until you were shaking uncontrollably, your voice hoarse. You swore you heard him speaking but couldn’t make out any of the worlds, your head swam so dizzingly with trying to comprehend the overstimulation.

Tears fell down your face when your orgasm hit, and you screamed to be able to get through it. You might have made it up but later on you thought you remembered hearing Ken whispering, “I love you, fuck, I love you so much, y/n. Fall apart for me,” as your body was racked with pleasure so intense it touched on being painful.

Ken immediately came after, his final few thrusts destroying you as he finally lowered your legs back onto the bed. He kept his cock buried inside of you as he lowered himself back over you, forearms on either side of your head again, and kissed you and praised you endlessly as he surrounded your trembling body.

“I’ll get you back, you fucker.” Your words were hoarse and breathy.

Ken laughed at your threat, and you managed a small smile despite your exhaustion. “I know you will,” he said, nuzzling his nose into yours.

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[persephone11110]

tummy hurts || j.seresin

tw:grooming,childhood trauma, emotional manipulation, past sexual abuse->child sexual abuse, self victim blaming-victim blaming (not jake) mentions of alcohol, past child neglect, the school system failed, jake calls reader goldie, Y/n hit Jake in chest a couple of times

summary:“Little girls like you aren’t loved”.Your head was laying on the pillow next to him, your naked bodies touching eachother, he loved you…you loved him.

IMPORTANT NOTE: this is a very sensitive topic so please tread carefully also please let me know if there should be more trigger warnings

AN: a fic born after falling into a PLL hole on tik tok and the title comes from Tummy Hurts- Renee Rapp. Also ngl the reason Ive on a break was bcus my fics were going downhill and sad as it is it hard watching other fics blow up and your can’t even make it to double digits within hours.

—

THIS FIC IS ABOUT CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE/ SEXUAL ASSAULT, SELF& VICTIM BLAMING, AND CHILD NEGLECT

—

“Sweetheart?” Jake asked slowly, unsure if his old man hearing was fucking with him. His voice dropped to a lower tone as more rage filled his chest.

Saturday nights were designated for you dine with your husband. A night were you and Jake catch up with each other, his aviation schedule and your college professor schedule was hard to work with.

You hated drinking more than one glass of wine as it always made your tongue loose. Somehow you managed to pour another glass it felt nice to let loose—what didn’t feel nice was your husband knowing how much dignity you didn’t have as a teenager.

“Goldie, you were how old” Jake grabs your hand, gently taking the glass out of your hand. Careful not talk to roughly. He watches as the color drains out of your face.

You were lucky enough to have a history teacher who didn’t give up on his students—especially not you.

Mr.Daniels, the best history teacher there was, he had goods and bad days. But who didn’t?

You and him bonded over the love of historical events. He didn’t tell you to stop talking or, to get the hell out. He would sit there with a warm smile listening to you go on and on about history.

You don’t how many times you’ve tried talking about your interests to mom and dad. And how many times they’ve stared at you with a blank face, or told you to go away.

But Mr. Edward Daniels didn’t. You had the privilege to call him Eddie when it was just the two alone inside the classroom after school hours.

He called you Y/n and you called him Eddie when you laid your mop of brown curls aganist his bare chest.

His blue sheets wrapped your naked body, the hickeys that riddled your stomach and hips.

“I was fifteen Jake”. you sighed dropping your hands into your lap. “He was a freshman history teacher—it was his first year teaching”.

“Y/n Collins”, he dropped a hand onto your shoulder, “I like the way you argue kid”.

“Fifteen, jesus”, Jake rubbed a hand over his face,“How come you never brought this up before sweetheart?”.

Not even a butcher knife could cut through the silence in the room.

Because you loved him. He gave you the love that no one else would.

“Its been over decade Jake…. times were different back then”. You said, chewing at the bottom of your lip. Your bouncy leg betrayed in how confident you sounded in your response.

“Doesn’t matter what decade were in you were a child and he was adult”. He softly glared at you, “His job was to protect and teach you about wars and he couldn’t even do that”.

You leaned back into couch wishing the damn thing would swallow you whole. Why’s Jake trying to make you seem like a victim—you aren’t one you and Eddie were lovers in the past.

Jake sat across from you he had a death grip on the beer bottle. “He loved me Jake, he was the first man to ever give me a chance of being loved”.

Jake felt the need to empty his stomach at the words that came from your mouth. He scooted closer to you, there wasn’t any space between the both of you anymore.“Was it just a one time?”.

You couldn’t look your own husband in the eye.

Jake would know how dirty his wife is.

Your silence was enough for him,“It wasn’t one time Y/n?”. Jake eyebrows furrowed,“Y/n whatever answer you give I hope you know I’d never shame or judge you”.

“We lasted for atleast for over year in half, before the school transfered him out of state”.

How long would It take me to find him and kill him.

Son of a bitch was transferred, he didn’t lose his teaching license.

“Goldie”,Jake calls your name gently—while grabbing your hands into his. “Look at me”.

You curled into yourself—Jake’s mad at you. “ Please don’t yell at me”. your voice hiccuped, you were begging him. You could handle anything but Jake Seresin yelling at you with so much anger and digust filled in his voice.

“Oh I could never blame you baby not now, not ever”. He gently cupped the side of your face, “I need you to understand how this isn’t your fault baby”. He moved around and positioned himself to make your foreheads touch eachother.

“Jake” you mumbled before you shoving your face into his neck. “I’m-”.

Jake shook his head at you he gently pulled from him,“Darlin i don’t wanna you even to think about apologizing to me”, He pressed a kiss into your cheek before speaking again.“The only one who deserves that is you, the adults around you should’ve looked out for you, your parents had one job and it was to just love you”.

You curled into yourself, you didn’t deserve Jakes love.

“Sweetheart i’m sorry for my rant here it just makes me angry that all those adults in your life and no one protected you, a innocent child who willed for love and attention from her parents”. You held onto Jake tightly afraid that in a split second he change his mind and leave you.

Your breathing became shaky and weak the hiccups got worse—your sobs got louder.

You weren’t a victim.

Jake Seresin didn’t know what he was talking about, your husband wasn’t there fifteen years ago.

He’s wrong-.

“Sweetheart”. Jake reached to grab you, “Y/n”.

Your arms become flailing, your were pretty sure your hands and Jakes chest connected atleast once or twice.

“Its okay Y/n, Its okay sweetheart”, Jake was finally able to get a grip on you—pulling your head ontop of his chest. “Shh baby, let it all out”.

“He hurt me so much Jake and nobody cared”, you sobbed.“When I finaly got the courage to tell my parents they looked at me and the first thing that came out their mouth was whore. “Y/n how much of whore do you have to be to sleep with a man well into his early forties?” -.

Jake wiped a tear from your face.“You got someone who cares Y/n, you have someone who loves you just as you are”. Jake sighed, would he be bad person if he took the nearest flight to his wife hometown and he beat old man to a pulp?

Bad man or good husband?, those lines tend to blur when the love of his life gets hurt.

“Baby just say the word me and the daggers can hop the earliest flight and kill a man, while Ice and Mav are our alibi’s”.

Jake catches a small smile breaking through—its small but he’ll take it . “Theres that smile that broke my pool winning streak”,Jake smiles into your shoulder.

“Thank you Jake for loving me, thank you for piecing back my broken pieces”. you murmured quietly, knowing that if you go another octave higher theres a chance that you’ll start crying again.

“Oh baby I should be thanking you, you trusted me with your heart— and Y/n you were always whole you just didn’t feel it”.

My tummy doesn’t hurt anymore.

[tightjeansjavi]

Slow Hands | Chapter 8

“If I ever were to lose you, I’d surely lose myself”

A/N: This chapter has taken me weeks to write, but I am so happy with the final results. This is another doozy, so tread carefully. Thank you for your endless support and love. 🤍

~word count: 7.0k~

Pairing | Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: Joel tells you what happened to him and Ellie before they returned to Jackson.

Warnings: angst, anxiety, trauma, mentions of death, child loss, grief, fluff, flirting, another almost kissing situation, lots of flashbacks, mentions of a miscarriage, mild alcohol consumption, Joel gets a little shy, hurt, comfort, protective! Joel, Joel whump, mentions of alcohol consumption, self deprecating thoughts/actions, anger, frustration, alluding to past traumas, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions, reader's nickname is beanie (coffee beans) +18, minors dni! heed the warnings please this is a very very heavy chapter.

main masterlist masterlist

Angie was a real sweetheart. A country classic that you’d want to play over and over again. Toffee butter sweet with pure southern charm. She was one of the kitchen staff ladies working in the mess hall. She loved to cook. She prepared food straight from her soul that warmed the hearts, and kept all the bellies full in Jackson. Her bubbly spirit was a decoy to mask her ceaseless grief that weighed heavy on her mangled heartstrings that were poorly sewn back together with a dull needle and thread. She recently went through a misscarriage. The brutal endless cycle of life in all its beauty and cruelty swinging like a pendulum. Angie was forever grateful when you and Joel appeared on her doorstep with Honey the fawn tucked protectively in your arms.

“She miscarried last fall. Right before the leaves started turnin.’” He whispered softly to you as he reached up and thrummed his knuckles against the chipped paint on the wooden doorframe.

Angie struggled to let go of her loss. She held onto the hand-me down infant clothes. The baby booties, swaddling cloths and the bottles. Grief causes even the strongest people to break as the world as they know it shatters around them. They try to claw and grasp what little remains of that person, whether they existed in the world yet did not matter. Angie took one look at that innocence bundled in your arms and she immediately darted off to the kitchen. She returned moments later with a swaddling cloth and baby bottle that showed the faint remnants of little hearts and flowers. The decals were peeling upwards like a bandaid, but it was a small token of kindness that this poor woman had to offer for the cost of nothing.

Joel thanked her with a gentle squeeze to her shoulder. Tender hands that could bruise, tender hands that could heal.

Angie only could nod as she quickly wiped away her dewy tears that rolled down her cheeks and dripped down the curve of her chin. Her eyes were glassy, her lower lip trembled under the soft blooming glow of the porchlight overhead. She reached one quivering hand out to gently stroke the soft fur on Honey’s head.

A moment of silence followed by the swishing sound of the front door slamming shut.

Oh, Angie. You deserved so much better than the cards you were dealt.

The walk back to Joel’s home was one in deafening silence. He kicked a stray rock along the ground with the toe of his boot as his arms hung at his slides. He appeared to be deep in thought as you tried to meet his gaze. He was as hard as a stone with furrowed brows. Grief was so prominent, even in a town that was built around ‘peace.’ Grief was there in every corner. Every crack and crevice down to a grain of rice. Even in a garden of Eden, grief sprouted from the stems.

“She likes you.” He murmured gently as he pushed open his front door with a soft huff through his chapped lips. “Honey.” He added.

“I hope she survives the night.” Was the first thought that popped up into your mind as you met his thoughtful gaze.

“She will. She’s n’good hands with you’n me.” He reassured you as his hand came to gently rest along your lower back as he nudged you tenderly inside as the front door softly swung shut behind you.

Honey had curiously peeked her head up from the safety of your flannel to observe her new surroundings as you slowly walked towards the well loved couch in the living area. Your knees cracked noticeably as you sank down onto the cushion.

“Y’want anythin’ to eat or drink while I warm some milk up for our little one?” Joel asked you as he padded towards the kitchen. Seconds later you heard the soft squeak of the refrigerator door opening as you sunk further into the plush cushions.

“Oh, that’s alright. Thank you for asking.”

“Not a problem, darlin.’” He hummed soothingly under his breath as he turned the burner on the stove. Once the milk was adequately warm, but not too hot, he poured it into the baby bottle. It was hard for a wave of nostalgia to not pass through him as he slowly blinked.

“S’matter baby girl? Y’want your baba? S’okay, daddy’s gonna get it for ya.” a considerably younger Joel spoke to baby Sarah in her crib. On the nights she couldn’t sleep, he’d fix her a warm bottle of milk and rock her to sleep on the old rocking chair that he and Tommy built with their bare hands. He’d sing lullabies in her ear and kiss her little head of soft curls.

Fuck.

He stared down at the baby bottle that was nearly engulfed by the sheer mass of his hand as his thumb slowly brushed across one of the peeling faded floral decals.

Fuck.

Keep it together, Joel.

Be still, my foolish heart. Be still.

Please.

God, please.

I’m good.

I’m fine.

Really, I’m okay.

God, she was so tiny.

Used to nearly fit in the palm of my hand.

Remember when she would cry and cry and cry?

Only person that could calm her down was you.

“Joel?” Your voice sounded so far from his reach as if he was across the ocean desperately trying to hone in the almost sweet music of your voice. Not here, not now. Please. He couldn’t shake the feeling of crisp trepidation as he slowly sunk down to his knees in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Breathe.

Breathe.

In and out.

Through your nose, out through your mouth.

Y’can do it.

She was so tiny. So pure. She was my babygirl.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to wail and throw his fists up towards the heavens but instead he sat in stoic silence as his ears rang like a mocking symphony that had him cowering from the harsh reality that he was presently facing.

“Joel?..” There you were again, but closer. Much closer as you went to investigate. The sight that laid before you took your breath away in a morbid fashion. Joel Miller on his knees looking like a man that had the weight of the world constantly pushing down on his aching shoulders. He was vulnerable in this state. He looked ten times smaller with his chin tightly tucked into his collarbone as if he was trying to appear as small as physically possible.

Your heart split in two to see him in this state as you slowly sank down to your knees in front of him. Grief was indescribable. It gnawed at a person with jagged teeth and sharp claws. A constant reminder that what you once held in your grasp, was no longer attainable. It was ripped from the roots, dry and brittle as precious life is stolen so swiftly.

His lips moved as he struggled to speak. To say anything, but nothing. No words could be formed as he stared down at the bottle in his hand. The slightest flinch from your unsuspecting touch upon his cheekbones as the palms of your hands gently caressed his face. “You okay?..” You asked in a hushed tone, keeping the octave of your voice level and gentle.

“No.” He murmured in defeat as his freehand slowly traveled up the length of your arm before resting along your cheek with the utmost delicate care.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You wanted to give him that choice. The open space to speak his feelings only if he chose to.

“Dunno. I jus’ needed to sit down.” He confirmed with a soft wheeze as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

“That’s okay, Joel. Sitting is good. It’s alright to rest. I’m right here.” You were, and you weren’t going anywhere.

“She was jus’ so tiny. Tiniest lil bean. With the cutest toes. A button nose. Used to have to give her a bottle at night when she couldn’t sleep. Would sit with her in the rockin’ chair for hours, singin’ her lullabies.” He croaked out as his chin slowly lifted as his dull faded eyes met yours.

You knew he was speaking of Sarah, and you also recognized his silent desperation for comfort. The baby bottle clutched in his trembling hand was the root cause for his current episode. Loss was so difficult to rationally explain sometimes. It was something that couldn’t be journalized as being the same for every person, because every single human being reacted in a different way. Loss was universal, and inevitable, but dealing with the grief that followed was structurally diverse in its nature.

“She was one lucky baby, getting to have you as her father. She loves you so much, Joel. She’s right here.” You slowly dropped one of your hands down from his face and gently rested it against the left side of his chest, right where his heart lay. “She’s always going to be right here.”

“Jus’ miss her so much. S’been creepin’ up on me lately. Feel like I’m seein’ her everywhere.” He felt discouraged as he slowly shook his head with a heavy sigh. “Thank you for being here with me. You don’t understand how much that means to me. To have..someone jus’ understand me.”

“I know how much you miss her, Joel. It’s better to let yourself feel everything instead of bottling it all up. I know how much it means to you. I’ll always be here to listen, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Hope to have you till the end of my days.

“Should–should probably give this to Honey before it gets too cold..” He trailed off as his thumb gently brushed across your cheekbone.

“Do you want to give it to her?..I bet she’d love it if you did. After all, you are the one who saved her.” You offered purely to encourage him only if he desired to.

“I’d love that. Help me up? Knees are feelin’ a little stiff.”

“Mine too.” You murmured as you slowly stood up and offered him your hand.

A ghost of a smile crossed over his features as he grasped your hand in his and pulled himself up from the floor.

He followed you into the living room where Honey was curled up in a fluffy little ball on the end of the couch. Her head perked up when she could smell the milk in the bottle as she struggled to stand on wobbly legs. Joel was right there to aid her as he gently scooped her up under his arm. Her fluffy little white tail wagged excitedly as she let out soft little bleating noises that sounded more like squeaks if anything.

“S’alright, baby. Got your bottle right here f’ya. Daddy’s got it for ya.” He softly cooed to the tiny creature.

You swore you saw a silent tear trail down his weathered cheek when Honey began to nurse from the baby bottle all the while he was gently petting down her tawny colored ears, and humming under his breath soothingly.

When Honey had consumed every last drop from the bottle she curled up right against Joel’s chest. She felt safe in the presence of you and Joel, which was quite obvious from the way she made herself right at home. Joel was careful to not disturb the sleeping creature as he reached his arm over and set the now empty bottle onto the nearby coffee table. The two of you fell into a comfortable relaxed silence, until the rumbling of Joel’s stomach interrupted it. The last meal he had was around breakfast time, and there wasn’t much substance to it. A cup of coffee, slightly rubbery scrambled eggs, and toast with butter. His appetite had been long forgotten since he and Tommy had stumbled upon the gruesome scene of the deceased doe while on patrol. Time seemingly had gone by in a whirlwind, and judging by the late evening light, it was far past dinnertime.

He shifted uncomfortably when his stomach rumbled again. This time it caught your attention from where you were sitting on the opposite end of the couch. You were currently reading one of Joel’s many coffee table books. Exploring Space, Dinosaur facts, The American Mustang, Woodworking for Dummies. You had chosen The American Mustang, and as soon as you heard his stomach grumble for the 5th time, you gently closed the book with your finger holding the page down before you looked over at him.

“Did you eat today, Joel?”

“Jus’ a bite of breakfast this mornin.’ Coffee, toast, and slightly rubbery eggs. Had the pan on a bit too high.” He softly responded as he lifted his chin slightly in your direction.

“I didn’t have much to eat today either. I could make us something?”

“Darlin,’ you ain’t gotta do that. You’re my guest after all. It wouldn’t be right if I just let ya cook f’me.” He was already attempting to gently lift Honey from her curled up position on his chest when you reached your hand out and gently grasped his forearm.

“Joel, it’s okay. I really don’t mind at all. We both should eat something.” You gave his forearm a reassuring squeeze before you pushed yourself up from the couch.

His eyes slowly followed your movements into the kitchen as he let out a deep sigh. “Y’know, it’s times like these where I wish that takeout still existed. What I wouldn’t do for a pizza right now.” He mumbled as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“Dominos, or Papa Johns? You better answer wisely, Miller.” You peeked your head around the corner with a playful smile playing on your lips.

“S’that even a question? Papa Johns. I’d order extra of those goddamn garlic sauces because the amount they gave you was truly never enough. I wish they would have started selling it in tubs or somethin.’” He stifled a chuckle. “Dominos was a last minute resort that I regretted every goddamn time.”

“That garlic dipping sauce was to die for. There was also that really good family owned pizza place on Main Street. Napoli Per Tutti I think is what it was called? They had the best Neapolitan pizza that I ever had the pleasure of trying.” You chatted casually as you opened his fridge.

“Darlin,’ you’re killin’ me over here with all this pizza talk. I actually never tried that place before. Sarah mentioned it a few times, but we Millers like to stick to our roots.” He chimed in as he managed to very carefully, and very gently, move Honey off of his chest and onto the couch where he then proceeded to cocoon her in a blanket that was draped across the armrest of the couch.

“I don’t know the first thing about making a Neapolitan pizza, but I can certainly try? That’s assuming that you have all the basic ingredients of course.” You could hear the wooden floorboards creak under the weight of his feet as you slowly turned around with your arms across your chest. “Just couldn’t stay away, huh?”

He sheepishly grinned and rubbed the back of his neck with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Can’t stay away when there’s pizza involved, darlin.’”

“Fair enough. All we’ll need for the dough is flour, yeast, water, salt, and I think olive oil?”

“Well, we definitely have flour..water and salt. Olive oil maybe, but does it expire? I haven’t done much cookin’ around here lately so I really don’t know what I've got in the cupboards.” He stepped around you with his arm just barely grazing yours as he opened up one of the many cupboards in the kitchen. “I’ll be damned. Guess we do have yeast and olive oil jus’ layin’ around here.” He reached for the packet of yeast and the bottle of olive oil before setting them down on the counter.

There was something oddly comforting for the two of you to be putzing around the kitchen like an old married couple. You fit right into Joel’s domestic budding life without even grasping the idea of it just yet. You worked together at making the dough, but once it came down to the kneading part, you let Joel take over. Maybe it was your cheeky plan all along to see his hands at work, or perhaps it was totally innocent. Regardless, it was hard to not let your wandering eyes drift across his exposed skin where he had rolled up the sleeves of his flannel revealing strong, veiny forearms. Some areas of his skin were littered in scars, and indentations from years of survival, but his hands were the main part of the show. Strong, weathered, yet gentle as he didn’t want to knead the dough too much. The tendons in his fingers flexed as his eyes drifted upwards towards you.

Gotcha.

“Like what ya see?” He rasped with a teasing grin.

Fuck, were you really staring that long?

You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks as a nervous laugh bubbled up your throat. You struggled to find your words. “Joel, i’m so sorry I shouldn’t–”

“Hey, Beanie? S’alright. You can stare for as long, and as much as you’d like.” He reassured you with a slight nod of his head.

So, this is where you flirt back.

OH!

Right.

“You just..have really attractive hands.” You murmured softly.

Joel cocked a brow at your answer as he looked over at you. “My..hands? What about ‘em are attractive?” He held the same genuine curiosity like the time you had complimented his eyes.

“Well they’re just..strong looking? Maybe that’s not the right verbiage that I'm going for here.” You trailed off.

“S’you don’t mind that they’re a lil rough lookin'?’ Take this hand for example, I’m pretty sure it never really properly healed after I beat the livin’ daylights outta a FEDRA soldier shortly after Tess and I agreed to take Ellie to the fireflies. Sometimes I’ll get like these ghost pains n’my knuckles is what I like to call ‘em.” He shrugged as he grabbed a towel to wipe the flour off from his hands.

“No, I don’t mind at all. I’d honestly be surprised if your hands weren’t at least a little bit damaged. Y’know? I get what you mean with the ghost pains. I get them too, but usually in my wrists and ankles. It’s almost like a tingling sensation.”

Joel felt his heart slowly sink to the pit of his stomach like the sun gradually dipping behind the horizon. It was easy for him to draw the conclusion as to why you’d feel these sensations in your wrists and ankles. There were visible scar indentations along the inside of your wrists. Based on the scarred tissue, it was probably due to them being bound together by zip ties, rope, or possibly even chains. He felt a shiver roll down his spine when he remembered the charred women in the forest having their wrists and ankles bound together by chains.

“Well, I think your hands are beautiful too, Beanie.” He murmured.

I think you're more beautiful than the stars, sun, and moon combined.

You smiled at him. That same soft smile that sent his heart beat skipping every time he was graced by the simple beauty of it. It was as if there was a magnetic force between the two of you that was working on overdrive to bring the two of you closer in proximity.

“Thank you, Joel. I’ve got a real nasty nail biting habit that spurs up every so often. I guess..after you brought me home from the bar, I absolutely tore my nails to shreds, but I had no recollection of it happening..”

“If it makes ya feel any better, I also have a nasty habit of picking at the skin around my nails till it bleeds. Ellie’s yelled at me for it numerous times, but no matter what I do, I can’t stop.”

“Maybe we can help each other break these habits? Or, at least show encouragement when we’re struggling?” You suggested.

“Yeah, I'd like that a lot actually. It’ll be a good way to hold ourselves accountable. Lord knows I need to sometimes.” He agreed. “Well, this dough is gonna have to sit for a bit before we can roll it out..whad’ya wanna do in the meantime?” He had his hands resting along the edge of the countertop that was lightly dusted in flour as he awaited your response.

“That’s a good question. Do you happen to have any records? Maybe we could listen to one? I have a good feeling in my bones that you have impeccable music taste.” You mused with a small grin spreading across your lips.

“Y’know, I actually do have a box of records in the living room. They ain’t mine, unfortunately. They were here when I moved in. There’s a lot of classics in the collection though. I’m sure we can find somethin’ that we both enjoy.” He tilted his head towards the direction of the living room.

You let Joel lead the way as he showed you the box containing the records. There was everything from the Beatles, Prince, Queen, Zeppelin, Frank Sinatra, and so on. “Well,” You started, “whoever lived here, clearly loved their music.”

“Ain’t that right.” his tone was slightly rasped as you made yourself comfortable on the floor with your legs crossed.

“You want a pillow?” He asked softly. “Might be a lil’ more comfy.”

You gave him a small nod in response as you began to carefully flip through the record albums.

He grabbed two pillows from the nearby couch without disturbing Honey before he joined you on the floor.

“Who’s your favorite? I know it’s a tough choice t’make. I don’t even think I could narrow mine down to five.” He chuckled warmly as he rested his weight back on his hands.

“Oh, gosh. I also don’t know if I could narrow it down..Stevie is definitely at the top of my list.”

“Ah, yeah. She was incredible. I was a big fan of Linda Ronstadt back in the day. Although, growin’ up, there wasn’t a song or artist that I didn’t enjoy.”

You slowly looked over at him as your fingers gently played with a torn edge on one of the records. “Was music a big part of your life?..Before, y’know.” You chose your words carefully as you watched him take a deep inhale.

“Yeah, it was. Used to be a big dreamer, believe it or not. Always wanted t’be a singer. Taught myself how to play the guitar, wrote a few songs here and there. None of them were very good, but I got a lotta joy out of it. Then when Sarah was born, I knew I had’to hold down a real job, and push that dream to the backburner. Spent a lot of time playin’ the guitar for her though. She loved it. Used to tease me n’tell me that I had a god awful singin’ voice.” He snickered.

Your giggle was soft, sweet, floating like a warm breeze. “Hey, I’m sure your singing isn’t that bad! It's wonderful that you found a lot of joy in that hobby. What about now? Do you still play the guitar here and there? Perhaps..sing in the shower like the rest of us?”

“Wouldn’t ya like t’know?” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully in your direction. “Yeah, I’ve picked it up here n’there. Started writin’ some lyrics as well. Maybe..one day I can play for ya? Give ya your own lil’ private concert, front row.”

“Yeah, you dork. That’s why I'm asking!” You giggled. “Wow, a private concert, just for me? Well, I'd be honored.”

“Mmm.” He hummed, “don’t go gettin’ your hopes up jus’ yet, but I think I can manage.” He shot you a subtle, yet playful wink. “Now, whad’ya got there? Frank Sinatra, You Make Me Feel So Young?”

“An oldie, for the oldies.”

“I ain’t that old, darlin.’” He scoffed playfully.

“Mhm. Let’s face it, we’re a little old, but silver looks good on you.”

“Not nearly as good as it looks on you.” He countered smoothly.

“Charming.”

“Jus’ tellin’ the truth, darlin.’”

“And they say chivalry is dead.” You were looking directly into his eyes which naturally sent a blush rising to his cheeks. Yeah, he had it pretty bad.

“Y’wanna give it a listen?” He offered with a sheepish grin.

“Absolutely.”

He reached for the vinyl, fingers gently brushing yours as he gently removed it from your grasp before he stood up. He shuffled over to the nearby record player that had been neglected for years. He blew off a bit of dust buildup that had naturally settled along the surface before he placed the vinyl down carefully.

The needle slowly fell into place as the old turntable crackled to life, flooding the small expanse of the room in sweet music.

You make me feel so young

You make me feel so Spring has sprung

And every time I see you grin

I'm such a happy individual

Joel watched the way your eyes suddenly lit up, bright, glassy, beautiful. Your energy was infectious as his knuckles lightly thrummed along the hardwood. He wanted to ask you to dance, to make up for what happened at the Tipsy Bison. Why was he so apprehensive? What did he have to fear?

Connection. Intimacy. Devotion.

You seemed to recognize the inner turmoil he was presently facing almost immediately. The nervous thrumming of his knuckles, the way his brows furrowed inward as if he was deep in thought. The light unmistakable pursing of his lips.

“Hey, Joel?”

He blinked once before his eyes hesitantly met yours, “Yeah, darlin?’”

“You wanna dance with me?..It can be like a redo for our first date?” Your thoughtful suggestion was as comforting as a warm summer breeze as his fingers absentmindedly inched closer towards yours.

“Y’wanna make up for that night?..Beanie, we don’t gotta–I mean..only if you want to?” He was nearly stumbling over his words by the time you had gently grabbed his hand and interlaced your fingers through his.

“C’mon,” You replied with a small smile tugging on the corner of your lips. “Dance with me, Joel.”

His hesitation was evident, at first, but your gentle smile, and kind eyes eased his nerves as you both slowly stood to your feet. You could feel how clammy his palm felt around your own as his other hand slowly dropped to his side. He wanted to hold your waist, but after everything that happened, he was apprehensive.

“It’s okay, Joel.” You reassured him as your free hand dipped down to his side and delicately wrapped your hand around his wrist before coaxing his hand to rest around your waist.

“I’m a shit dancer, honey.” He murmured low and soft as his fingers slightly flexed against your waist.

“Joel, don’t overthink it. Just dance.” You encouraged him with a reassuring smile.

When his nerves slowly began to dissipate, he fell into a rhythm as he spun you around playfully. He was less worried about accidentally stepping on your toes, and more focused on the way the soft glow of the kitchen lighting bounced off your skin. How pretty you looked. How your eyes never seemed to leave his. The increased thrum of his heart drowned out the soothing crackle from the tabletop. All he could see was you.

It was as if a magnet was slowly pulling you in closer. The gravitational pull, foreheads touching, noses brushing, exchange of breaths. So close. So close. You could nearly taste him on your tongue–

“Beanie..” He breathed out. Pausing. Thinking. Just ask her. The worst she can say is no.

“Can I–”

“Please. Please kiss me, Joel.” Your thoughts were swirling, tumbling like a shaken up jar of marbles. You wanted him so bad. Terribly. You wanted and yearned to know what it possibly felt like to be kissed by Joel Miller. The moment was there in your grasps, and gone in a flash from the distinct creaking sound of the front door opening.

Ellie’s footsteps were soft along the floorboard as she pulled the door shut behind her. She was hoping that Joel wasn’t home. She wasn’t ready to confront him after what took place at the Tipsy Bison just a few nights prior. She was still hurting. Her curiosity got the best of her in the end when she saw that the kitchen light was on.

“Joel?..” She rounded the corner, eyes going wide, cheeks turning a deep bright red as she caught the moment you and Joel nearly kissed. She squeaked a fast apology, “Shit, I’m so sorry!” before darting out of the room like a bat out of hell.

You and Joel were startled by her presence to say the least. His eyes went wide before he was dropping his hand from your waist. He murmured an apology of his own before he slipped out of the kitchen to follow his kid.

“Ellie, wait! Kiddo, can we please–” He was hot on her heels as she scurried up the stairs and b-lined to her bedroom. If he was there a second sooner, he would have stopped her from slamming the door in his face.

“Kiddo, please. I jus’ wanna talk.” He sounded gravely defeated as his forehead came to rest upon the chipping paint on her bedroom door. He could hear her muttering to herself as she stuffed her backpack with overnight clothes.

Moments later the door flung open as she brushed past him with her bag slung over her shoulder.

“Ellie.” He tried one more time.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Joel. Sorry for interrupting your date.” She muttered before jogging down the staircase.

“Kiddo, please. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to Dina’s.” Was her short response. He could detect the hurt in her voice as he pathetically watched her disappear through the front door once more. The entire house was silent as he scrubbed a weathered hand across his patchy beard. Healing took time, he reminded himself. It didn’t happen overnight, but fuck. He missed his baby girl so much.

The old floorboards of the staircase groaned under his heavy footsteps as he trudged back down the stairs. His brain was telling him that it was time to call it a night. Send you home so you didn’t have to witness his pain at the forefront. His heart told him differently. His heart urged him to seek out your comfort, so he did.

He found you right in the kitchen where he left you. You had just taken the freshly made pizza dough out of the fridge and set it out on the counter. Your eyes slowly flitted upwards at the sound of his footsteps.

“Hey, I think the dough is ready to be rolled out. Want to give me a hand?”

Bless you.

“Yeah, of course. I’m sorry for runnin’ off like that. She’s been avoidin’ me since that night at the Tipsy Bison.” He admitted in a hushed tone.

“It’s okay, Joel. You don’t have to apologize for that. Did you..want to talk about it?”

“No, not right now. Let's just..make these pizzas. I’m starving.” He sighed, feeling his own mental and emotional exhaustion begin to way down on him like a bag of cement.

He met you on the other side of the counter, shoulders brushing as he pulled out a rolling pin from one of the drawers. You rolled out half the dough in silence together. It was almost as if you were sharing the weight of his present grief, soaking it in and absorbing it like a sponge.

Once the pizzas were dressed and popped in the oven, he wiped down the counter before grabbing a glass from one of the overhead cabinets. “I uh–really could use a drink. Would you like one? I’ve got wine and some spirits.”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having, Joel.”

“Whiskey it is then.” He murmured as he grabbed another glass. “I really don’t usually drink. I jus–’ need somethin’ right now.” He didn’t know why he felt like he needed to explain himself to you, but it was too late to take his words back when they were already spoken.

“Joel, you don’t have to give me a reason as to why you need a drink right now. We all have our vices, and I hold no judgment towards yours.”

“I know I don’t have to explain myself to you, Beanie. I’m jus–’ I'm not okay right now. I don’t know whether I should laugh, cry, punch a fucking wall in.” He muttered bitterly as closed the cabinet door a bit too harshly. He shuffled past you to the wet bar area where he snatched up the bottle of whiskey with trembling fingers. He popped the cap off with his teeth as he poured a hefty splash of amber-colored liquor into his glass. He was considerate enough to give you half of what he was having.

“Joel, I know you’re not okay right now. Do you want me to?..”

“No.” He croaked softly, “No. I don’t want you to leave, please.” He took a sizable sip from his glass before he returned to your side, sliding your glass over.

“Okay, I won’t go, but is there anything you..need from me?” Your hand slowly grasped the crystal glass before raising it to your lips. The warmth of the liquor coated your insides like sticky molasses. It had a twinge of smoke, finished off with a hint of cinnamon. In short, it was fucking delicious.

“I don’t know.” He admitted somberly before he slowly sank down to the kitchen floor with his back resting against the oak cabinets, and the glass resting in his hand between his knees as his head fell back with a soft thud.

You descended alongside him with your legs outstretched, and ankles crossed. Sometimes all a person needed was a gentle soul. A wordless extended notion of comfort. Sometimes that was enough, but sometimes a person needed more. Whatever Joel needed in those crucial moments, you’d be there.

“Can I be honest with you?” He broke through the growing silence with a heavy huff through his lips.

“Of course.”

“I am fucking terrified of losing every goddamn person that I love, Beanie. I’m terrified of losing my brother. I’m terrified of losing my daughter, and I'm terrified..of losing you. I feel like a broken record that can’t quite find its rhythm because the vinyl is scratched, and the needle keeps catching. Do..you get what i’m sayin?’” His head slowly turned to meet your eyes.

Your heart skipped a monumental beat when he said that he was terrified of losing every person that he loved, and that you had made the cut. (not that there was one to make). You ignored the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and focused on him, and his willingness to rawly communicate with you.

“Joel, I understand why you are terrified, but you haven’t lost Tommy, Ellie, or me. We’re all right here. I don’t think you sound like a broken record at all. Try and show yourself a bit of compassion, okay?”

He stifled a bitter chuckle as he brought the rim of the glass back to his lips. He took another sip before he closed his eyes.

“Beanie, I don’t think you’d be tellin’ me to have some compassion for myself if you knew what I've done, the people I've killed, the choices I've made. I ain’t a good person. No matter how many times I have tried to justify my actions, I ain’t a saint.”

“Joel, do you think that anyone is truly a saint? Do you believe that we’re all innately good? That we’ve never hurt a friend, or said words we didn’t mean? Joel, even if the outbreak never happened, and we didn’t lose the people we loved, we still would be making mistakes. We still would be hurting people whether it was intentional or not. I mean this with full honesty, your past isn’t going to scar me. It isn’t going to make me think of you in a darker light, because goddamnit, we all had to fucking make some hard choices in the name of survival. I’ve killed people too, you know that, right? I lost count years ago. I lost my fucking faith in the shreds left in the remants of humanity until–” you felt yourself choking up with tears welling along your waterline, and your words lodged in your throat, clawing to be set free.

“Beanie–”

“No, please. Please just let me finish, okay? Joel, you’re so incredibly hard on yourself, and hell, we all are. I just want you to realize that you are not a bad person. You’re not a bad man. You’re not some evil monster lurking in the shadows. You’re a fucking human being that has spent over 20 years trying to survive. You have endured and survived up until this point. You and Ellie will be okay. She’s hurting, and so are you, but one day she will forgive you, for whatever it is that you have done. She needs time to heal, and so do you.” You felt mildly exasperated from the energy you were exerting.

Joel was speechless. He was floored as his pupils were blown out wide. His jaw physically dropped. He scrambled to gather his thoughts so that he could come up with a well-rounded response. He struggled with his words, as you knew. All he knew is that he had to be just as vulnerable as you were being.

“I killed an entire hospital of fireflies. I killed every single one of them to save her. To save my Ellie. My light. They were going to kill her, Beanie. Ellie is immune. She’s the only one. Marlene told me that the doctor that was going to perform the surgery on her thinks that the Cordyceps has grown with her since birth. Because it’s adapted to her, it tricks the normal Cordyceps into thinking that Ellie is one of them. That’s the reason why she is immune. Tess and I were taking Ellie to the fireflies because I made a promise to Marlene. It turned into something else along the way. I grew to care for Ellie as if she was my own. I even–I even told her that we didn’t have to keep going. We could come back to Tommy’s and forget all about the fireflies. My baby girl didn’t want that. She wanted to save the fuckin’ world, but she didn’t want to die. I know she didn’t want to die, Beanie. She thought that after it was all said and done, that we would be going home together.

“And when we’re done, we’ll go wherever you want, Joel.” Ellie reassured him.

“Tommy’s, sheep ranch, the moon.”

“I’ll follow you anywhere you go.”

“But there’s no halfway with this.”

“We finish what we started.”

Ellie was determined to use her immunity to save the world, and Joel couldn’t stop her.

“Ellie..is immune?” You whispered softly as the weight of Joel’s words sunk deep into your soul.

“Yes, she is. You have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone, Beanie. Not even Maria knows. Only Tommy and I. The rest of the community would turn to chaos if they knew.”

“The fireflies were looking for a cure, and Ellie was the answer? But, Cordyceps–”

“Grow inside the brain.” He deadpanned as he finished off what was left in the contents of his glass. “I did what I had to do to save her, and if I had to go back and do it all over again, I would. She didn’t want to die. She never consented to the surgery. Marlene never gave her the option, and neither did I. The worst bit? Beanie, I lied to her. I told her that there were more people like her. People who were immune. I told her there were dozens like her, and that the doctors couldn’t actually make any of it work. That they’ve stopped looking for a cure entirely.”

“They’ve stopped lookin’ for a cure.”

“Where are my clothes?” Ellie mumbled.

“Raiders attacked the hospital. I barely got ya outta there, kiddo.” he squeezed the steering wheel tightly as he lied through his teeth.

“Were people hurt?..”

“Yes.” He didn’t lie.

“Is Marlene okay?”

Joel paused as he glanced back at his daughter through the rearview mirror.

“I’m takin’ us home.”

“You never told her the truth, did you?” You knew the answer, but you wanted him to confirm it.

“No, I did tell her, and she hates me for lying and taking that choice away from her. She feels like..she holds no purpose in life now, and it’s all my fault.”

“Joel, you did what every parent would have done for their child. Biological or not, she is your daughter. She was in danger, and you saved her. I can’t blame her for the way she currently feels towards you. Her emotions are valid, and you should have never lied to her. You should have told her the truth from the start, but I understand why you didn’t tell her. You felt ashamed of your actions.”

“I just wanted to protect her.” He murmured as his eyes casted downwards.

You reached your hand out and gently grasped his shoulder and gave it a firm, grounding squeeze.

“Joel, you did just that. You protected her. You saved her. You saved the world.”

His own eyes began to water. His lower lip trembled, wobbled with uncertainty as his glassy irises met yours.

“You’re right. I did save the world.”

And then, you were hugging.

His tears and your own fell freely as you cradled his head protectively against your chest with your chin resting gently against the top of his head. Your fingers threaded through his soft salt and pepper tendrils as he enveloped your frame in his strong arms. The oven dinged signaling that the pizza was ready, but neither of you moved an inch.

“Spend the night with me, Beanie. Please.” His words fell heavy on his tongue. His heart begging you with a steady thrum to stay.

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