#writing takes me so long

[inkskinned]

please i love you i'm begging you bring back suspension of disbelief bring back trusting the audience like. i cannot handle any more dialogue that sounds like a legal document. "hello, i am here to talk to you about the incident from a few minutes ago, because i feel you might be unwell, and i am invested in your personal wellbeing." "thank you, i am unwell because the incident was hurtful to me due to my childhood, which was bad." I CANT!!!!

do you know how many people are mad that authors use "growled" as a word for "said"? it's just poetics! they do not literally mean "growled," it's just a common replacement for "said with force but in a low tone." it's normal! do you hear me!! help me i love you please let me out of here!!!

[elodieunderglass]

changes and trends in horror-genre films are linked to the anxieties of the culture in its time and place. Vampires are the manifestation of grappling with sexuality; aliens, of foreign influence. Horror from the Cold War is about apathy and annihilation; classic Japanese horror is characterised by “nature’s revenge”; psychological horror plays with anxieties that absorbed its audience, like pregnancy/abortion, mental illness, femininity. Some horror presses on the bruise of being trapped in a situation with upsetting tasks to complete, especially ones that compromise you as a person - reflecting the horrors and anxieties of capitalism etc etc etc. Cosmic horror is slightly out of fashion because our culture is more comfortable with, even wistful for, “the unknown.” Monster horror now has to be aware of itself, as a contingent of people now live in the freedom and comfort of saying “I would willingly, gladly, even preferentially fuck that monster.” But I don’t know much about films or genres: that ground has been covered by cleverer people.

I don’t actually like horror or movies. What interests me at the moment is how horror of the 2020s has an element of perception and paying attention.

Multiple movies in one year discussed monsters that killed you if you perceived them. There are monsters you can’t look at; monsters that kill you instantly if you get their attention. Monsters where you have to be silent, look down, hold still: pray that they pass over you. M Zombies have changed from a hand-waved virus that covers extras in splashy gore, to insidious spores. A disaster film is called Don’t Look Up, a horror film is called Nope. Even trashy nun horror sets up strange premises of keeping your eyes fixed on something as the devil GETS you.

No idea if this is anything. (I haven’t seen any of these things because, unfortunately, I hate them.) Someone who understands better than me could say something clever here, and I hope they do.

But the thing I’m thinking about is what this will look like to the future, as the Victorian sex vampires and Cold War anxieties look to us. I think they’ll have a little sympathy, but they probably won’t. You poor little prey animals, the kids will say, you were awfully afraid of facing up to things, weren’t you?

[hinamie]

unconditionally

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki likes to bite you. it’s his weird way of showing you affection. whenever he feels like annoying you (because he can’t live for more than ten seconds if he’s not being a nuisance) but he also wants to you to know he cares, he’ll find whatever part of your skin is exposed and just—bite.

you don’t remember when he started doing it but you’ve never stopped him so he hasn’t stopped. he bites your exposed shoulder when hes walking by and your lounging in the living area of the dorms, he grabs your hand and bites at your fingers when you’re alone and he bites at your cheeks and nose when you get mad at him for ‘being mean’ and teasing you. to which he always replies with “you love it.”

“why do you do that ?” you asked randomly after he bit your cheek again while you were watching a movie in his room. he looks down at you and his brows furrow in confusion “ do what ?” he asks.

“ bite me,” you play with the ends of his hair a little, it’s been getting longer and he’ll complain about it soon(the only reason he hasn’t cut it yet is because you said it looked good on him) “ why do you that ?” he goes quiet for a moment, gauging to see if you were upset, was it suddenly bothering you ?

he frowns. lips already unconsciously forming into a pout when he speaks “ ya don’t like it when i do ?” he tries to sound self assured, but his question comes out whiny. you smile lightly at him, nosing at the underside of his jaw. “it’s not that, dummy. just wonder why you do it.”

his nose scrunches at the nickname but he pays it no further mind. he huffs out a little breath and looks away from you towards the tv screen, a pink tint grows on his cheeks. having to tell you why he does it suddenly makes him embarrassed.

“jus’ feel like it. f’ya don’t mind when i do it why’re you questioning me about it.” you feel his hand heat up from where he has it pressed against your stomach under your shirt, no doubt getting more and more embarrassed having to explain why he has this weird little habit.

you shrug, sighing and nuzzling into him a little more. you press a light peck to his neck and his hand heating up even more makes you smile “i don’t mind it, just never had anyone bite me before.”

“good” he huffs, suddenly pressing you closer to his side. a sudden rush of protectiveness washing over him “get used to it. m’the only one who’s gonna be doing that from now on, got that ?”

“alright” you giggle. you suddenly get an idea and you look up at him. “you wouldn’t mind it if i bit you, then ?” a teasing smirk appears on your face when he almost cracks his neck when looking down at you, wide eyed and cheeks absolutely set ablaze. he sputters and looks away, unable to keep eye contact as he looks to the screen again.

“knock yourself out.” he tries to sound indifferent but his voice cracks a little at the end of his sentence and he cranes his neck to the side a bit to give you more access. you don’t mention either. instead you lean closer to him and nip at his neck lightly. his hold on you tightens for a moment before loosening up slightly and he suddenly won’t look at you anymore. not even when you laugh and poke at his cheek, asking him what’s got him so red in the face. his eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are so laser focused on the tv you fear he might burn a hole through it. he offers you nothing more than a harsh glare and a muttered out “shush.”

[paimonial-rage]

unraveled - alhaitham

synopsis: after hearing a rather interesting rumor about your boss, how could you give up the chance to test its validity?

ship: alhaitham x reader

notes: 4.8k, prompt given by @milkstore more than a year ago lol

You heard something extremely interesting the other day while walking around the Akademiya. Now let it be said you were never one for gossip. Not that you viewed yourself as above gossip or anything; it just rarely had anything to do with you. This recent tidbit that drifted into your listening ears, though, it had you stopping cold in the middle of the morning Akademiya rush. It was shocking. It was discombobulating. It was absolutely world-shaking! Alhaitham, your boss…

… was apparently interested in someone.

You were used to hearing many rumors about Alhaitham—how he was planning to change Akademiya hours to a strict 9-5 schedule, how he destroyed the self-esteem of toddlers for fun, how he was secretly raised by Inazuman Rifthound Wolves with the blood of the abyss flowing through his veins—but those were easy to ignore. As his secretary, you were privy to his plans and personal information. You knew what was true and false (not including toddler thing—that was up in the air). However, Alhaitham interested in someone? Now that was interesting.

Your first reaction was to dismiss the rumor. Your boss followed a strict schedule that didn’t leave much room for other activities. That wasn’t even mentioning the sheer number of people that filed complaints regarding his tongue. Sad to say, he didn’t get along with most people. 

And, while you’ve never been in a relationship with someone before, you’ve seen how others acted. They became sweet to their lover, engaged in much physical contact, noticed them even in most crowded of rooms, and spoiled them rotten. Could you imagine Alhaitham doing such things? You most absolutely positively could not. 

But when you thought about it more, it was often said that love changed people. Even the grouchiest of grumps could turn into the softest of softies, right? It was a possibility. Added to that, he made it a point to leave when his time for the day was up. He had a decent amount of time after work to woo and court to his heart’s content. Yes, as you contemplated it all, you came to a set conclusion.

Your curiosity was piqued.

So, let it be made known now that you knew it was wrong to do so. You knew that if you got caught, you’d get sent straight to the scary General Mahamatra. But you had a duty and it was this duty you would uphold. You were an alumnus of the Akademiya and you would follow in the footsteps of your predecessors. Desperate times called for desperate measures, as they said, and desperate measures called for engaging in a long-supported research method. 

Stalking Observation. 

It was a brilliant plan, perhaps one of your smartest. If the Acting Grand Sage was interested in someone as rumors implied, observation would be the best method to discover the truth. To ensure your plans would go off without a hitch, you slammed through your work for the day. You even skipped out on Shawarma Wrap special hour at Lambad’s Tavern. Sure, your stomach may had been causing a ruckus, but such sacrifices were necessary. Today you would find the truth!

You were ready the moment 5pm hit. Your work was done, you were in civilian clothes and clocked out for the day. He didn’t even notice you weren’t seated at your desk when he walked by toward the exit! Judging from how everything was going so far, it seemed that your mission would be far easier than you thought! 

And it was! In fact, it was rather boring! His first visit was to the House of Daena. You hoped he would be there to meet someone, but he instead made a beeline for the new book section. After glancing over a few here and there, he picked out a few, checked them out with the librarian, then left. They weren’t interesting books either. As you peeked out from under a desk, you could catch a glimpse of the cover of one of the books about Inazuma. It was written by “Hat Guy.”

Hm.

Anyway, your heart pounded in excitement when he began heading in the direction of the Grand Bazaar next. You heard he recently became acquainted with a dancer from the Zubayr Theater. Perhaps the secret lover was her? But he disappointed you once more. He spent a total amount of five minutes glancing over stalls, looking at some ugly pieces of furniture, before quickly departing once a crowd of people began filing in for a show. 

As you followed him to your next destination, your initial reaction to this whole debacle started to become more and more plausible. It seemed all that was on his mind was errands, nothing more and nothing less. If anything was strange, though, it was how you didn’t seem to be disappointed by the turn of events. 

Though it was clear Alhaitham didn’t get along with most people, you personally liked him quite a lot. When you first came to the Akademiya from Mondstadt, you had a difficult time. You weren’t sure why at the time, but you tended to annoy people. No matter how friendly you tried to be, they sneered even more. It wasn’t until an explosive confrontation that you learned why. They saw you as disruptive and nosy. You lacked any pride. You were too idealistic. 

You weren’t like them.

You spent much of your time to yourself after that. You didn’t know how to act. You didn’t want to do anything wrong. Despite its warmer climate, Sumeru somehow felt colder than the winters of your homeland. 

You first met Alhaitham on a joint project. As usual, you kept to yourself through much of it. Being the only member of your darshan there, you knew you should have brought up your points of concern, but fear held you back. And sure enough, the project ended up heading in a direction that would inevitably hit the roadblock you predicted. You would’ve kept quiet had Alhaitham not spoken up.

“Are you planning on contributing anything worthwhile to this project?”

His words came so out of the blue you could only splutter in response, “Excuse me?”

“I recommended you for this project because I thought your research papers showed complex reasoning and a thorough work ethic. However, it seems I was mistaken. Not only have you not offered anything useful, but you insist on keeping quiet despite your knowledge of possible issues. So I ask you again. Are you or are you not going to contribute anything worthwhile?”

There were so many things you could’ve said, so many things you should’ve felt. It wasn’t like you weren’t doing anything! You fulfilled your set duties for the project. But despite your work, you were being labeled by him as essentially useless. The only logical response was to feel upset, even anger. But instead, a hesitant warmth filled your chest instead.

“Wait. You recommended me?”

Though his expression didn’t change, somehow you could see he was judging the strength of your intellect.

“Your studies relate to this project directly. Why wouldn’t I?”

You floundered, gesturing wildly for a few moments before finally getting out, “But nobody likes me!”

He simply stared at you deadpan, communicating through body language alone, “That is my problem how?”

“Are you sure you want me to speak up? You won’t get upset?”

He sighed.

“You were brought onto this project for your expertise. If anything, I would be upset if you did anything but that."

His words were astounding. They were game-changing. They were earth-shattering! In his eyes, you were not an outsider from Mondstadt. You were a scholar, and it would only be your merits upon which you would be judged. 

You knew he didn’t exactly like it, but you found yourself sticking around him even after the project was successfully completed. With everything you dealt with at the Akademiya, Alhaitham was like a breath of fresh air. Sure, he did tend to point out the fallacies in your logic and personal flaws that would get in the way of achieving your goals, but that really was it. It wasn’t like he was ever wrong either, so you didn’t mind. At least you weren’t getting criticized merely for existing. 

As for how he felt about you, you really weren’t sure. He wasn’t exactly the most expressive person in the world, nor the most feelsy either. Really, he could probably be replaced by a Rishboland Leopard and you doubted there would be much difference.

Still, if there was anything you did know, it was that he never pushed you away without reason. Even when his nose was buried in a book during his free time, he had no qualms letting you ramble to your heart’s delight. And when you finished, he would respond with his own thoughts, always surprising you with the fact that he was listening all along. 

There also was the fact he requested you personally as a secretary when he was forced into the role of Acting Grand Sage. Sure, working at the Akademiya after graduation in administration made it easier for you both to keep in touch, but you didn’t think he still kept tabs on your work ethic. So maybe, just maybe, the feelings he felt toward you were higher than simple toleration. And you were content with that. 

So lost you were in your musings that you almost didn’t catch him turn onto Treasures Street. You nearly bumped into a few people while correcting your course. But he didn’t head in the direction of his home like you assumed, however. Instead, it seemed he was making his way to Menakeri's Treasure Shop. Which was rather strange. That shop had been out of stock for the past year. Unless he was planning on reserving something with Khalid? 

Upon peeking inside, it seemed he was examining quills and fountain pens. You nearly gasped audibly. Was he perhaps finally listening to your advice and purchasing himself new writing utensils? You didn’t know how many times you nagged him about those terrible ParchmentMate quills that anyone could buy in bulk. They didn’t give a consistent line, were prone to getting clogged, and were all around cheap garbage! It was about time he got himself something fitting of his position. 

But… Wait, was he…? It was the moment he hummed in thought and picked up a particular brand that you found yourself called to action. 

“Just because Zilot H2 fountain pens are popular doesn’t mean they’re actually good!” You exclaimed, rushing over and plucking the abomination from his fingers. “Even when you’re right-handed, they still tend to smear like crazy! Also, the quality is not consistent throughout the pens, so you can get some that clog constantly!!”

You were quick to plop the pen right back where it belonged on the display. Such a monstrosity would have no place in your boss’ office. No way. It was a good thing Alhaitham was essentially a lazy person who despised putting up with inconveniences because arguing with him was the last thing you wanted to do today. And thankfully, he did not disappoint!

“I see, then which pen would you recommend?” He asked with his fingers against his chin in thought. 

Oooh~ At the sound of that beautiful question, your heart quickened within your chest as a rosy flush found its way to the apples of your cheeks. He’d always wave you away whenever you brought up this subject before (probably because he knew very well you could ramble about the glory of stationery for a good hour), so what changed his mind? Well, who cared what did! You weren’t about to squander this chance he so graciously gave you!

“Well, there are many great fountain pens and quills. Monstadt is Teyvat’s biggest producer of high-quality pens, though Inazuma and Liyue have some notable brands too. I’d recommend…” You hummed as you scanned the display before plucking two that caught your eye. “A KWSBY Eco or a KAMY Safari.”

“And the difference between the two?” He asked as he stepped close to you.

Though the fact that you could feel the warmth he radiated against your arm and his gaze upon your face was distracting, the excitement within your chest overpowered any presence he had. 

“Well, while they both write very well, the Eco holds more ink and, in my opinion, requires less maintenance. It’s more eco-friendly as well because it doesn’t take cartridges. But I’d say the Safari feels better in the hand and requires less pressure, so it’s less straining to write for long periods of time.”

“Then which one would you recommend?”

You tilted your head to the side. That was a good question.

“Well, personally, I would recommend the Eco. While you do write a lot, I think the hassle of replacing cartridges and going out to buy new ones is something you’d find annoying after a while. However, both are rather cheap, so it wouldn’t be much out of your pocket to purchase both to see which one you like more. Then you could use the other as a backup pen, or maybe one to keep at home.”

He hummed. 

“I see. And why were you following me this whole evening?”

Well, that was the easiest question he asked by far!

“Because I heard rumors about you and I wanted to see if they were true!” You exclaimed with a wide smile on your face. 

Wait, that question wasn’t about pens at all… In fact, that was… You paused and realized something for the first time. Alhaitham was looking at you. Like… he knew and was cognizant of the fact that you were standing in front of him. Which meant… 

“You used those pens to lure me out, didn’t you!?” You cried out in betrayal. 

He shrugged.

“It’s not my fault you’re easily baited with stationery.”

You groaned in frustration. He wasn’t wrong about that. Anyone that knew you knew quite well how much you enjoyed talking. Blame it on your Mondstadt blood, but you were too talkative for your own good. Often times you’d surprise people by making conversation in long lines or when their pretty outfits caught your eye. More than that, you loved helping people and giving advice, even when you weren’t exactly needed. Really, it was a smart move on Alhaitham’s part.

“So, what is it this time?” He asked with a cross of his arms and a raised brow. “It’s not the rifthound wolves rumor again, is it?”

You shook your head. 

“Of course not. You know you were there when I checked that one,” You exclaimed with a roll of your eyes. “This rumor is way better than that one. They say that you’re courting someone.” 

He sighed.

“And you believed that?”

You shook your head once more. 

“Well, no. But rumors like that don’t come out of the blue. So I thought there had to be some truth to them. Maybe you’re interested in someone.”

“Oh? And it bothered you enough to follow me after hours?”

You laughed.

“Well yeah. Who wouldn’t want to see the sarcastic and straight-laced Alhaitham getting starry-eyed over a special someone?” You replied with a shrug.

His eyes shut, shaking his head in exasperation.

“And how exactly would my getting ‘starry-eyed’ look?”

“Well obviously–”

Your stomach grumbled. Loudly. You winced. Apparently not eating lunch today was coming back with a vengeance. It seemed that your companion noticed the sound as well as his brow raised while glancing down at you.

“Did you eat yet?”

You coughed.

“No.”

He nodded in acknowledgment.

“Then you can tell me over dinner.”

Your heart jumped as a smile leapt to your lips. 

“Are you paying for dinner too?” You asked, your eyes glittering. 

His eyes narrowed as he placed a hand on his hip.

“If I’m not mistaken, the last time, I was the one that paid.”

You coughed once more.

“Th-That may be true,” you began with a stutter, “But… I’m not the one with the salary of a grand sage. Surely it wouldn’t be too much out of your wallet to pay for your overworked assistant?”

He stared at you, his eyes half-lidded in exasperation shutting them in unwilling acceptance.

“Fine.”

With a joyous fist pump, you rushed to follow him at his side as he began to make his way in the direction of the tavern.

“This is why you’re my favorite boss, Alhaitham!” You exclaimed with a grin causing him to snort.

“If I recall, just yesterday you were calling me the worst for excusing you when you sneezed.”

“That’s because right after, you gave me tips on how to sneeze quieter,” you shot back. “I can’t help the way I sneeze, you know. I was—excuse me—born that way. Besides, nobody in Mondstadt ever–”

Your brow furrowed as yet another person bumped into you. It seemed the true rush hour of Sumeru finally hit as the roads were covered with people. You wanted to roll your eyes. Of course, nobody was walking into Alhaitham. He seemed to have a two-foot forcefield around him. Not that you were surprised. Though you liked him, even you could admit that the vibes he exuded were not the most welcoming. 

But as you kept musing to yourself about Alhaitham and his unkind vibes, the more you found yourself getting pushed and shoved away from him. Thankfully, you knew the direction he was heading, so it wouldn’t be too hard to simply meet him there–

“They’re not going to move unless you make them.”

Your eyes widened as you felt a hand grasp yours. With a gentle tug, you found yourself pulled from the crowd. There Alhaitham stood with a brow up, daring you to argue. You pouted.

“You could’ve done that earlier.”

He shrugged.

“I was waiting to see if you’d do it yourself.”

“Well thanks, I guess,” you replied, rolling your eyes. Still, you squeezed his hand gently because you were, though a bit exasperated, also grateful. 

With him at the forefront to part the crowd, he led you by hand to Lambad’s Tavern. Despite being a busy night, it didn’t take too long for you both to be seated. After being guided to a square table, he took his normal place diagonally to your side instead of across from you. In the back of your mind, you assumed it was so that you were easier to hear, but there wasn’t any point to putting much thought into it than that. With your orders put in and a round of drinks on the table, you took a hearty swig from your glass before leaning back. 

“So here’s what I envision for an Alhaitham in love,” you began, eager to continue your conversation from before. “I…

Hm…

“I um…”

That was a good question. How would a starry-eyed Alhaitham look?

“Well, you see…”

Though you found yourself ready to wax poetic about a normal person in love, when you really thought about it, Alhaitham wasn’t the most normal person around. He didn’t laugh much, let alone smile. He was more mean than he was nice. That wasn’t even mentioning his sheer lack of friends. 

“Can’t think of anything?”

“No, that’s not it. I’m just realizing you wouldn’t act much different,” you began. “I think you would still treat them the same, but you’d always have an eye out for them. You may talk about them from time to time, maybe pay for their meals as well. I can see you wanting to be nearer to them than most people. You’d prefer their company more. Things like that.”

His head cocked to the side in thought.

“That doesn’t sound like I’d be very much in love with them at all.”

You shrugged.

“You don’t need to look in love to be in love, you know. It’s just that you wouldn’t be as obvious about it as most.”

It was then his turn to shrug.

“Really? I think most would say that I’m not capable of love.”

You snorted.

“Oh, come on,” you began with a humored grin. “We both know that’s not true. You’re a human just like anyone else. You’re one of the kindest people I know.”

“I know many people that would disagree with that.”

“And I would disagree with them. You don’t judge people. You see them for who they are. You always tell the truth, even if it may hurt. You don’t like it when people are troubled, so you give them words to help them change. Though you try to avoid company, you don’t hesitate to help the people you care about. You don’t abandon people in their time of need. You’re kind, Alhaitham.”

He took a sip of his drink.

“You make it seem like I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I merely don’t like being troubled by other people’s problems,” he replied with a shake of his head.

“Maybe,” you admitted with a shrug before giving him a knowing look. “But if you really hated it all that much, I think you would’ve gotten rid of some people in your life a long time ago.”

He turned away.

“I think you’re looking far too into it.”

“And I think you just feel exposed for being a softie,” you shot back with a laugh.

He didn’t speak after that, not that he needed to. You knew he knew there was no point in trying to argue. This was something you brought up multiple times in the past, much to his dismay. As much as he tried to ignore it, you saw him for how he really was. Which was why… 

You sighed.

“Do you really like someone though? Are the rumors true?” You asked nervously. 

“Was it that important to you that you had to follow me to find out if it was?” He questioned.

You shrugged. 

“Well, I mean I did want to see you get all starry-eyed, but… the thought of you having someone so important to you in your life and me not noticing a single thing bothered me. I mean you’re the person I spend the most time with. Can I even be called your friend if I didn’t notice something so big?” You asked, a bit dejected.

“Is that the only reason?”

When you frowned in confusion, he continued.

“You say it’s because you’re my friend. Are you sure it’s not for any reason more than that?”

As he spoke, his gaze did not waver from you. It was as if his eyes were piercing you through. It seemed as if he was searching for something, but what? Was there truly a reason more than that? You weren’t so sure. 

Before you could respond, your plates were set before you, prompting your stomach to let out another long and loud grumble. You flushed. Of course, your stomach had to interrupt such a serious moment. 

He sighed.

“Let’s eat.”

Really, you truly did mean to play around with his words in your head as you ate, but the moment the food touched your tongue, any and all thoughts were out the window. Lambad’s Shawarma Wraps were always top-notch. The flatbread was soft and warm and the sauce was tangy and fresh. Despite living here for the past few years, you still weren’t quite used to eating with your hands, but such problems never detracted from the taste. 

When you were almost done, you turned your gaze to your companion with stars in your eyes. 

“Do you want to share an Ajilenakh Cake with me?”

Though you knew he wasn’t one for sweet food, you didn’t know anyone who could resist the sweet nuttiness of Ajilenakh Cakes. They were warm and soft and the jam complimented the flavors wonderfully. 

“Sure,” he agreed with a shrug. 

And with an excited grin, you put in the order and went back to your food. In the back of your mind, you remembered the time Alhaitham mentioned he preferred meals with you. When you asked if it was because he enjoyed your company, he said that you were always so focused on eating that you barely had any time to speak. You hated how you always proved him true because once the dessert was placed before you, again any thoughts you had of continuing the conversation quickly came and left.

As you ate you mused it probably would be a good idea to go on a diet after this. Alhaitham barely had a fourth of the Ajilenakh Cakes, not that you were surprised. He wasn’t exactly one for sweets. But that meant you ate the rest, and with all the Shawarma Wraps you’ve been eating as well… it did not bode well for your waistline. 

“I don’t think it means anything. Me being bothered, I mean,” you finally announced as you wiped your lips clean. “I think any normal person would want to know what’s going on with one of their friends, you know? Besides, you say that me being bothered could mean something more. What more could it mean?”

He shrugged.

“It could mean that you’re interested in me and worried that I may have found someone else.”

You leaned back as you crossed your arms in thought. Well, when he put it like that, it certainly was a possibility. Perhaps you were afraid of being replaced by someone else. You enjoyed being at his side, after all. But that being said, being interested in him? It didn’t seem very likely.

“No, I don’t think so,” you replied. “I’ve never really thought of you in that way before.”

He sighed.

“Then that’s a shame.” When you asked why, he continued, “Because the rumors are true. The person I’m interested in, the person everyone is gossiping about, is you.”

“And that’s what happened,” you finished as you sipped your wine. “Can you believe it? The source of the rumors, the one everyone was talking about, was me!”

“W-Wait. He literally told you that? He just went out with it!?” Kaveh exclaimed in disbelief. 

As Kaveh sat across from you, you wanted to laugh at the sheer look of confusion upon his face. He was utterly dumbfounded. Not that you could blame him. It was a rather crazy story, after all.

You nodded.

“Yep! I mean looking back, all of the signs were there. We spend a lot of time together for work, he likes sitting next to me at restaurants, sometimes he pays for me… He even holds my hand from time to time when the roads are packed! I don’t know how it took him explaining it to me to finally realize the truth!” 

And really, it was embarrassing on your part. Growing up, you’d love to while away the hours in the Knights of Favonius’ library reading mystery novels. Nothing was more exhilarating than getting the culprit correct. So really, this was something you should have figured out from the very start. But nevertheless, being given the answer to this mystery didn’t make the outcome any less exciting. It made you wonder if you should investigate more Akademiya rumors in your free time. It certainly would be fun.

However, a quick glance at Kaveh showed he wasn’t exactly sharing your thoughts. Instead, his face still held that same dumbfounded look from before, if not a bit more intense. 

“So what did you do? What did you say? Alhaitham didn’t seem any different when he came home! Oh Gods, and to think I scolded him that evening for leaving his books out! I really must’ve sounded like a jerk!!”

You frowned in thought. Was there something lost in the communication here? You didn’t see anything worth panicking over. 

“Well, after he told me that, I tried to argue with him, actually. Honestly, can you imagine me being the answer? That’s way too easy. But then he explained everything to me and eventually it made sense. After that, he paid for dinner and then we went home.”

His jaw dropped this time. 

“That’s it!? You went home?? After all that???”

You tilted your head to the right. 

“What do you mean? The mystery was solved. What more did we need to do?”

He dropped his head into his hands and pulled at his hair before them on the table.

“What do you mean!? Alhaitham confessed his feelings to you. And you just nodded and went home!? I can’t believe you’re making me feel bad for him! You really don’t think anything about it?”

Your head tilted this time to the left. Kaveh groaned.

“He likes you. Don’t you feel anything about that?”

Feel anything about him liking you? Him… liking you. He… liked you. 

Oh.

First your eyes widened, then your hands dropped to your lap, and then, with the fury of a thousand suns, you felt your face burn up. 

“I’m happy… I think?”

[bonchobrick]

DCxDP Fic where the Batfam gets an item/ability which allows them for just that day, to temporarily be able to what someone best accomplishment(s) were in their lives. Little do they know Danny has just settled into their city (and that they were about to get the shock of their lives)

---

At first the Batfam decides to have fun with it--theres not much titles can do to help them with cases unless theyre particularly lucky. So they take a walk together in disguises to observe the passerbyers, curious of what civillains of gotham have done in their lives.

One gruff guy who grumbles shoving Bruce's shoulder as he walks by has the title 'KITTY SAVIOR' adorned above him and the batfam are greeted by the knowledge he had saved a cat from getting hit by a car

A kid in his pteens whose been shoving pamphlets into peoples hands has 'ADVERTISEMENT SUPERSTAR' above his head as he apparently managed to save his family's resturant with his intense marketing prowess (remind Bruce to try hiring him in the future.)

And lastly they faux browse a store trying to scope out someone else interesting and are greeted by the title... 'OPENER OF PICKLE JAR' and they decide to head home as Jason nearly crying trying to muffle his laughter.

At the manor they all cant help but agree, walking has made them hungry, and theres no harm ordering a pizza or two. It's been a long, mildly interesting day, though they weren't expecting much from thing ability.

Imagine their surprise when they open the door to see a black haired blue eyed child, pizza boxes in one hand, the other hand out awaiting a drop of money–completely missing the fact the title 'DEFEATED THE MAD KING WHO HAS TORMENTED THE AFTERLIFE FOR EONS' was placed innocently above his head

"Your total is 23.11!" The fucking 'Ghost King' kid (APPARENTLY) cheerily states????

"Uh," Bruce says blankly staring at this kid's title as his mouth blurts out, "Could you give us a second?"

[erenthology]

Assertive

Rugby boyfriend!Eren x fem!reader

collage au, possessive but in an infatuated boyfriend type of way. Size differences are mentioned. No matter your size, Eren is bigger than you. (Note: going to be more active now that Aot is ending. Feel free to send requests ♡)

I don’t mind if you’re ignoring me, cuz I’m ignoring you. “ he watches you bounce around the room in your thin, white nightdress. 

You continue looking for your phone, ignoring him. There’s no way you haven’t searched every inch of his dorm room by now, so you finally look at him. He’s laying on the bed shirtless, hands behind his neck, looking at you innocently. That f’ckin bastard.

“Do you have my phone, Eren?”

He flashes his teeth, “ugh, baby, you have no idea how nice it is to hear your voice again. C’mere.” he pats his lap.

You sternly put your hand on top of your hip, arching it to the side, giving Eren the perfect view. “Do you have it or not?” He doesn’t even try to hide his smirk.

”Do I? I'm not sure. You should come over and look,” stretching his arms out in an inviting pose.

Earlier, Eren’s roommate, Floch, made a joke about how he can hear when you and Eren are having sex. When you told Eren, he rushed out of the room and ordered Floch to apologize. Completely scolding him like a dad. You felt embarrassed since you didn’t want his friends to think you can’t take a joke.

You know he’s just going to grab and pull you towards him, so instead, you start walking towards the door. Eren tenses immediately and rushes towards you,

‘’Hey, hey” he grabs your hand. ”where do you think you’re going?’’ he questions with furrowed eyebrows.

‘’To ask if the guys have they’ve seen it?’’ 

His eyes flash red for a second. To have his friends see the outline of your nipples through that thin fabric of your so called pajamas? He looks you up and down, nope, not happening. You should be wearing his t-shirts to bed anyway.

 ‘’Not like that, you’re not,’’ he gives you an ‘’end of discussion’’ look, but you huff and turn anyway. Not that you get far at all, he has you slung over his shoulders before you’ve even fully turned.

The con of having a rugby player as a boyfriend is that he throws you around a lot without so much as breaking a sweat. When you’re mad at him, he has this irritating habit of lifting you off the ground and cuddling you until you’ve cooled down. Claiming it “breaks his heart watching you walk away angry.”

He walks towards the bed, ignoring your fists punching at his back. “You’re such a brat sometimes.” He doesn't mind at all though, Eren has the patience of a saint when it comes to his girl, he enjoys being the one to set you straight.

He carefully lies you down on his bed, positions himself on top and grins, ‘’gotcha,’’ then smacks a kiss on your cheek. ‘’You’re annoying.” you pinch his ear in retaliation.

“Ow, hey, you know you’re stronger than you look.” he scratches his reddened ear. ‘’I'm being deadass, baby, you could go pro in armwrestling or some shit.’’ You burst out laughing over how dramatic he’s being and his eyes lit up from the sound. Your smile always captivates him.

Feeling yourself being stared at, you grin cheekily, unable to hide your smile “weirdo, stop staring,’’ brushing your fingers against his stubble. His eyes follow the movement of your hand and begin tracing the shape of your figure when all of a sudden he starts attacking you in tickles.

You’re both advancing on each other playfully, laughing hysterically. In an attempt to roll out of his reach, Eren quickly reacts by by grabbing your hands and pins them above your head. The laughter is quickly replaced with heavy pants as you stare at him naively, your chest rising up and down.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he lets go of his grip and rests his head on your chest, “you know, it doesn’t matter if you’re mad. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable staying here.’’ he gently admits, then lifts his head,

‘’plus, I’m the only one who has a say about you in bed.” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Gross,’’ you push his chest, apparently amusing him by the look on his face. ‘‘but it’s fine, really. I just wanted to ignore the situation, but I guess he should learn that not everything needs to be said.’’ At this, he grins and takes ahold of your chin,

‘’that’s a good girl.’’

You ignore the heat rising in your face and smack his hand away when you suddenly remember, ‘’speaking off, where is my phone? You know I need to do my nightly routine check.’’

He knows. It’s the reason he slipped it under his pillow the moment you started throwing a fit. It’s nice having the most predictable girl on the planet. ‘’You can do it later, let a man enjoy his girl for a moment. You can be mad at me after.’’

‘’I'm not mad at you’’ you look genuinely offended, causing him to snicker. “Besides, I kinda liked the whole sexy, scolding dad thing you had going on. It was kinda turning me on,” you admit, looking straight into his eyes.

His hands on your hips stiffen instantly and his whole demeanor changes. “Don’t even joke, [name] I will put a baby in you right this second,” large hands grab your ass and starts grinding your body against his.  

You attempt to leave but he drags you right back, looking at you confused. Looking down, you purr, “I really need to do my routine check,” sticking out your lower lip for extra effect.

You love to rile him up and have him mock you for being greedy and bratty. His face gets closer to yours with his eyebrows all furrowed.

“Did you just pout at me?”

“Nuh uh,” you lie and tease your hand against his belt, Eren’s eyes follow your movements then trace back up to your face, where you’re innocently meeting his eyes.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and looks down at your hand playing against his bulge. ‘’You wanna get fucked?’’ he spits with disgust, or admiration. It’s hard to tell with him.

“Know you enjoy keeping me on edge, acting all innocent when we both know,” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes lingering just a second too long on your lips. Thoughts on ways to tame you running wild in his head.

‘’Telling me it turned you on when I was commanding,’’ he shakes his head as if disappointed.‘’It's good I’m here to keep you in line. A girl like you needs that.’’

You feel the imprint of him on your stomach as his hips press you down on the bed, leaving you no space to leave. You try your best to keep your voice steady. “Just wanna make you happy,’ you breathe out. He almost laughs. 

“You know what would make me happy?‘’ Eren stands and lifts you up with him.

‘’you with my cock in your mouth.” You almost go limp in his arms from how lewd he's being. 

Giving you an expectant look, he nudges your nose with his, “are you waiting for something? get to work.” he guides you down on your knees towards his crotch. The carnal look in his eyes makes you fumble a bit with his belt, but Eren is patient. Sometimes you suspect he enjoys seeing you nervous to perform for him.

Pressing a kiss on the tip, he returns his gratitude by patting your hair in a domineering act, “make me proud.’’ he smiles, in which you relish. Keeping eye contact, you swirl your tongue around his shaft before hollowing your cheeks and start working your way down. You can’t help but gag at his size, no matter how often you blow him. 

It’s been quiet for some time now and you’re growing impatient with the lack of praise. You decide to look up at him through the tears in your eyes and catch him smiling down at you. The scene feels so filthy you can’t help but slyly drag your fingers over your panties to relieve some of the pressure, secretly humping your hips against your hand to the sound of his pants. 

He just nearly cums in your mouth when he notices what you’re up to. Shamelessly playing with yourself, mouth filled with cock, you look straight out of Eren’s nastiest fantasies, it was perfect.

He bends down and pulls your hand out from under your nightdress, “Not yet, need you to be a good girl for me.’’ Then he does the hottest thing all night, he leans down to give it a kiss. You love him. He makes you feel like a princess getting fucked by her knight.

Feeling enthusiastic again, you eagerly reach for him to continue where you left off, but are stopped yet again. Whining, you wait for him any sort of command, just to do something, anything! but he looks so unaffected it’s making you wail even louder.

 “stop whining, you don’t deserve to suck my dick.” Despite the warning, you almost do it again but stop yourself when you notice the glare you’re given. “But I really needa feel you, Eren. It hurts down there.” you were so wet it felt like you were about to explode from the lack of release. 

He's only a man after all, even he has his limits when you wail pathetically about how wet your pussy is. Now he needs to have a look. He pulls you up by your torso, ‘’does sucking me off make you wet?’’ You nod and visibly see his ego lit up.  

A thin sheen of sweat connects your bodies as he effortlessly carries you over to his bed. You take advantage of your flexibility and spread your legs as far apart as you can once he lays you down, earning a groan out of him.

He doesn't hesitate a moment further to push his face in there and peek under your dress. “such a pretty cunt, princess. no idea how often I jerk off thinking about it, about this,” kissing through your soaked panties. Your hips jerk upwards at his erotic words, desperate for friction.

“Eren, please”

He pushes your panties to the side but keeps them on. It’s like he’s so needy for you he can’t be bothered to take off either of your clothes properly, but patient enough to check out every inch of you as if seeing you like this for the first time.

Eren’s broad body consumes your smaller frame as you lie beneath him. You love this feeling, him shielding your body from anyone and anything but himself. 

 His ring covered fingers play softly with your bud, observing your reactions before lining himself against you, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. The sight of Eren being almost abnormally endeavored by your pussy as he spits on his hand and pumps his cock, increases the heat pooling in your abdomen. 

You lie still, enjoying the sensation of him rubbing and tapping himself against you. His eyes are fixated entirely on your cunt and you enjoy every bit of the attention. Not to say you’re not curious about what goes on in his mind when he’s focused and quiet like this. Like your body is art and he is studying and memorizing every part of it.

Once satisfied, he pushes through the tight hindrance and sucks in a breathe, “oh, fuck.” and finally looks up at you. His heart stops a beat when he’s reminded of how beautiful you are. The urge to hide you away from anyone's eyes but his, hits him strong but he bites it back.

Time slows for a moment as you both take each other in through half lidded eyes, and for some reason, your vision has never been as clear. His fingers thread through yours as he leans in for a kiss. When he pulls away, your eyes are still closed. Eren grins and places one last kiss on your forehead before thrusting his way in. 

He’s fucking you with his hips, hard. Hands pressing down your pelvic, holding you still for him to ram into. The strap of your nightdress has slightly fallen down your shoulders, so he pushes the fabric that’s hiding you from him down further, and exposes your breasts. The moan he lets out from the sight is pure filth. 

‘’Touch yourself.’’ he demanded, pupils dilated. With glazed over eyes, you comply and start playing with yourself, twisting and grazing your nipples. The act drives him to lift your hips to reach deeper into you,’’really thought i’d let you walk out of my room looking like this.’’ he grows almost annoyed at the thought. 

Tenderly cupping his cheek, he almost flinches from how lovingly you’re looking at him, “You’re all I want, Eren.’’ and he almost melts. When you say things like that it makes him want to keep you to himself even more, resting his forehead against yours, he looks at you with almost a pained expression. ‘’that’s good, because i'm a selfish man.’’

 With your legs lifted around his waist and upper body sprawled on the bed, you’re essentially at his mercy as he connects your bodies in repeated thrusts. Again, again and again, the sound of him pushing into you echoes in the room. 

He fucks like a deprived man and speaks like a man in love. “Does it feel good, princess?’’ You nod with lovestruck eyes. ‘’Yeah? taking me so well. making me so proud.’’ The pressure feels too intense, about to snap.

He’s stretching you on his cock and looking straight into your eyes as he's doing it. Your body dissolves into pleasure as you writhe beneath him.

Your body starts squirming uncontrollably, causing him to grip your hips ever tighter, overpowering you in strength. You let out a loud sob and rake your nails on his back when your vision suddenly fades to black. He stares at you, astonished.

He raises an eyebrow, “did you just cum?” the thusting has stopped completely now but you felt his dick twitch inside you as he asked. “Tried to hold it in for you,” you stare back apologetically, eyes still sprinkled with lust. Best part is, he knows you didn’t. And you know it too. 

“Turn around,” he orders. You obey and slump towards the bed with your back against him, hiding your face in the pillows. “Don’t act all shy with me now, let’s see your face,” he leaves no room for discussion, so you slowly turn your head and face him. He looks so big staring down at you from your vulnerable position. “That’s a good, good girl.” 

Next thing you know, your cheeks are being spread and played with. Still high on ecstasy from the orgasm you just had, the energy to perform is nonexistent, so he does the job for you.

Huge hands angle your limp body upwards, then press down your back to create a beautiful arch, only for his eyes to admire. He sinks back inside and buries his cock in your warmth.

It’s hard maintaining eye contact with him when he’s like this, it feels so shameless, almost taboo, still, you can’t look away. He’s pounding into you, pulling your hips hard against him.

“This is what you’re making me do, looking at me like that. No one else will ever be able to see you like this,” he occupies his thumb by rubbing it over your clit. The contact is so delicate but rapid nonetheless.

You nod agreeably, barely able to register his words. “Are you close, Eren?’’

“Yeah,” his hands pressed down tightly on your lower abdomen, the scream you let out is almost inhumane. ‘’yes, yes.” you’re grinding back against him in heated motions, shockwaves of heat pumping through your body.

He snaps his pelvic against your ass and feels you sucking him right back in.  He thinks back to what you said before about him as a dad and his eyes roll back. The thought of you carrying his child inside you makes him come undone.

“Ugh, fuck.” He comes audibly high etc, covering you in his cum. You expect him to catch his breath but he smoothly regains his composure and pushes you on your back, his thumb finding its way right back to your clit, barely even getting started before leading you to your second orgasm.

You scream in pleasure as he cups your face, lips brushing against your ear. “That's it, princess, you did so well for daddy. made me so proud.” he praises as he pushes your hair out of your face. 

The lack of response makes him laugh, realizing he’d fucked you to sleep, litterally. chuckling, he grabs a warm cloth and cleans you up to his best effort.

You’re usually sleepy right after sex so this is a regular routine for you both. He smacks a kiss on the top of your head and covers you with his comforter then goes for a shower.

Once he’s done, he carries you up bridal style to the bathroom. “Wake up, sleepy.” he’s back to his sweet self. You grunt in response. “C’mon, you need to pee.’’ It’s true, so you comply and he leaves you to it. 

This is a conversation you’ve both had before, he feels no need to leave when you do your business but you’ve kicked him out enough times so he knows the drill by now. Eren changes the bedsheets while you clean up.

When finished, you walk back to the bed and he opens his arm for you to rest on, your phone lying beside him. You jump at the invitation and he hugs you towards him, ‘’what do you feel like eating?’’ he’s playing with your hair as you lie comfortably on his arm. 

“Not hungry.’’ you murmur.

Eren fights the urge to sigh. “Sorry, not up for debate.’’ He saves himself the trouble and orders for you both, knowing you’ll feel hungry once you see him eat.

When the food arrives, you end up wanting exactly what Eren ordered for himself.

‘’You’re a big baby.’’ he sulks and rolls his eyes, but feeds you nonetheless. You don’t miss the look on his face as you take a bite from his hand. One thing about Eren? he can and will fuck multiple times a day if you let him.

‘’down, boy. i’m not tryna have my guts rearranged after eating food.’’

He grins, ‘’I didn’t say anything’.’ knowing he’ll do exactly that when you’re done eating.

[bluebeary-jay]

How easy you are to need

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel notices that the peaceful life in Jackson has its consequences. he is not happy about it (based on this wonderful ask!)

Tags: TONS OF ANGST, but also FLUFF, established relationship, ahh intrusive thoughts (how much i hate them), Joel is probably ooc but i don't care anymore, also he's soft and insecure and vulnerable

Warnings: body dismorphia and lots of self-loathing on Joel's side, at one (two?) points borderline on smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) hihihi, swearing, drinking (just mentioned), suggestive stuff bc apparently i can't help myself 😌

Word count: 8K ! (8028 specifically woah)

A/N: the next fic will definitely be shorter bc i really need to start caring less about the quality of my work, it takes way too long for my liking. buuut anyway as always 🎶i hope yall will like it🎶 this is my birthday gift for you guys 💕

Joel looked at himself in the mirror with furrowed brows.

He pulled in his stomach and tried to zip his pants. It still fit, but barely. He undid the zip, turned to the side and looked at his reflection again, just to make sure.

Yeah. This pair was definitely loose until a while ago.

He glanced at the door, but didn’t hear you coming, so he sighed and looked in the mirror again. Joel was never particularly muscular, but he could no longer see those thin lines which accentuated his torso before. There was also a bit of fat above the hem of his jeans, and his frame seemed somehow heavier…

Good thing his left ear was directed to the door, because he heard the moment the water in the shower stopped running, which meant you were coming back from the bathroom. Joel spared himself one last wary look and zipped up his pants before turning around to your shared bed where his shirt lay discarded.

He was putting his arms into the sleeves when you entered. A couple of light steps, and then Joel smiled when he felt your arms wrapping around his torso. He glanced over his shoulder at you.

“You took your sweet time in the shower,” he pointed out, and he could feel your smile when you pressed your face to his back.

“We finally have hot water, so I’m gonna use it every chance I get.”

“You left some for me?”

You huffed a laugh and went around him, moving his hands away and starting to button his shirt yourself.

“There would be, if you took a shower with me.”

“Next time, sweetheart,” he chuckled and leaned in to kiss your forehead softly, combing his fingers through your wet hair. He hummed. “Your hair smells nice.”

“It’s that shampoo Ellie didn’t want.” You shook your head with a smile. “I have no idea why, it’s fantastic.”

You buttoned up the last button and smoothed your palms over his chest and down, lastly resting them on his waist. Internally Joel furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if he could always feel this fold when you put your hands in that place.

“You look handsome,” you whispered, looking up at him with twinkling eyes and such a soft, love-struck expression on your face that Joel felt his throat constricting. Everything but the sight of you faded from his mind, and he joined his hands behind your back, pulling you closer into his chest and basking in this precious smile you blessed him with. “Especially with the bed hair.”

“It’s your doin’, you know,” he murmured in response, nudging your nose with his and reminiscing how you tugged and raked your nails through his hair the night before. “You gotta be careful with it, sweet girl. If you continue doin’ it, m’gonna go bald soon.”

You hummed noncommittally and leaned against his chest, standing on your tip-toes. “I’ll take it under consideration. No promises, though.”

Joel lifted his hand to the back of your neck and kissed you slowly, reveling in the soft sigh that left your lips. You rested your palm above his heart, leaning forward to the point that you would fall over if he wasn’t supporting your weight.

But Joel held you tight and close to his body, gladly steadying you as you deepened the kiss, once again tugging on his graying hair in that way he adored. He wanted to tease you about it, but his thoughts strayed to the image of his body again when you lowered your hand from his chest to his side.

“You remember that tonight is this party?” you asked suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts. Joel gave up pondering about his physique and sighed heavily at your question, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yeah, I remember. Regrettably.”

“I don’t want to go, either,” you whispered with guilt, as if someone would hear you both. “But Tommy really wanted us to come and… Just don’t make me go alone.”

“Hey, darlin’.” Joel took your face in his hands and looked deeply into your eyes. “I promised, didn’t I? M’not gonna leave you there on your own.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, smiling against them. “And mind you, I gotta make sure no one will try to seduce and steal you away from me.”

You giggled, and you were standing so close that Joel could feel your eyelashes tickling his skin. He held you close when you tried to take a step back, and your lips collided again.

“That is the one thing you don’t need to ever worry about,” you murmured quietly into the space between you two. “How could I even look at other people when I have you all to myself?”

Joel’s reflection in the mirror flashed across his mind again and a small wave of uncertainty rippled through him, but it quickly disappeared when you opened your eyes and looked at him with this raw love radiating from them. Your every word, every affectionate gesture only confirmed his conviction that you meant every word you said.

So why did he still feel so uncertain?

*****

Life in Jackson was perfect. Considering the state of the world right now, living here was like winning a lottery.

Joel had a lot to be thankful for, he was well aware of that. No longer had he any fears or sense of guilt about going to sleep and leaving you and Ellie defenseless if something were to happen. He didn’t have to count rations anymore, worrying that the kid would be forced to march all day hungry. There was now no need to keep a watchful eye for new clothes if someone’s worn off, ripped or got soaked from walking in the rain, posing a threat of you or Ellie catching a cold.

Back in Boston it wasn’t much different, though he and you had at least a bed to sleep in, as uncomfortable as it was. But there was never enough food for all those people Fedra kept there, and the winters were cold as hell, leaving at least one of you a bit sick every year.

None of those things were keeping him awake at night anymore. The only people he had to take care of – you and Ellie – were safe and comfortable. None of you had to starve or freeze, and you all didn’t have to continue walking across the country for days and days without end, struggling to survive.

Maybe that was the problem.

Joel wasn’t stupid. He knew that those luxuries he had an access to now were at the root of his problem. Before you all settled in Jackson, you were constantly on the move, fighting for your lives in one way or another, so of course he was… leaner and more fit back then. It was never something he paid attention to, though, never something he concerned himself with.

But now you three were living here, surrounded by more people than Joel could count, and he couldn’t help but… notice things about them.

Especially about all those men and women who looked at you in a different way.

Due to the nature of the party Tommy invited them to – mainly consisting of dancing and talking in the biggest bar in Jackson – Joel had a lot of time to ponder about his situation, all while nursing his drink and looking at you from across the room with his elbows resting on the table.

You were chatting with one of your friends near the counter, laughing and smiling so beautifully. No matter where Joel’s eyes strayed, they always came back to your person, as if you were the moon against the pitch black sky, reflecting some imperceptible light.

Some guy he knew by sight – Chuck? Bart? – walked up and tapped you on the shoulder, and from what Joel could tell, he was offering you a drink. He was standing way too close, though, and you took a step closer to your friend, shaking your head. Chuck – or Bart – persisted for another half a minute, but eventually shrugged and shuffled off, his movements tense.

Joel didn’t move. He knew from experience that you’d let him know if you needed his help.

As if sensing his gaze, you turned your head and sent him a radiant smile. He mirrored it, lifting his glass slightly like he was toasting you, which made you do the same before resuming the conversation with your friend.

His smile disappeared as soon as you stopped looking at him. Joel sighed and rubbed his eyes with his fingers, feeling a headache coming from the dull lights and loud chatter all around.

It were moments like this when it hit him just how old he was compared to you.

You were a sweet, young thing. Funny, sharp, drop-dead gorgeous… No wonder some people were seeking your attention. That guy was just one of the half a dozen he saw or heard about since you moved to Jackson.

Joel knew you were a loyal sort – God, he knew that, he knew you for so long now – but every time he saw you talking to someone else, his treacherous mind started to wonder if he wasn’t somehow keeping you chained to his person.

It was probably alcohol talking, but Lord, if he wasn’t reminded of how old he was compared to you every time he saw you next to your peers. You still had so much life ahead of you, and he was pushing sixty, for fuck’s sake. Before long he’ll be old and decrepit, unable to bring something useful to the table or help you in any way, and you’d still be as pretty as ever, trapped in a relationship with an old man.

For example, that guy – Chuck, or whomever – was way closer to your age, had handsome features, and Joel knew for a fact he was working at tree felling, so he had to be muscular, too.

Joel was once, too. Once.

He subtly ran his hand across his stomach under the jacket, his brows furrowed, and leaned back on the bench to get rid of those damned fat folds.

He sighed and downed the rest of the liquor in his glass, trying very hard not to think about it, not to put himself down like that and let those cruel thoughts fester in his mind, but no matter what, he couldn’t stop comparing himself to this guy, and also… how you looked next to him.

Shit. What if he was doing you more harm than good by continuing to stay with you?

“I could pickpocket you and you wouldn’t notice.”

Joel looked up, abruptly pulled out of his thoughts. You were standing over his table with your head tilted and still that beaming smile on your face.

“What are you thinking about, handsome?”

He opened his mouth, glanced in the direction of the bar, and closed it. There was no sign of any of the people you just talked with.

“Nothin’,” he replied, maybe a little too dryly, so he quickly changed the subject. “You havin’ fun?”

“Yeah, it’s nicer than I thought.” You looked around and then spotted the empty glass on the table in front of him. “Do you want me to bring you another one?”

“No, there’s no need,” he grumbled, but you had already put your drink down and sent him a wink.

“I'll be right back, baby.”

Joel hissed your name but you just looked over your shoulder with a smirk, swinging your hips provocatively to the music and ignoring him completely. He sighed heavily, slumping in his seat.

He needed to get his shit together. Fuck his insecurities, he didn’t want to take his frustration out on you when you were nothing but a ray of sunshine in his life, always so good and affectionate.

Joel’s thoughts came to a sudden stop when he searched for you in the crowd and noticed another man, this time one he didn’t know, swinging his arm over your shoulders while you waited at the bar. He tried to read your body language from here, but you didn’t seem particularly uncomfortable with the man’s actions. Joel furrowed his brows, a pit of uncertainty forming in his stomach again... but then you threw the man’s heavy limb off your shoulders and went back to Joel’s table as soon as you got the drink.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he murmured, taking a large gulp despite telling himself earlier that he was done drinking for today. “Were you okay back there?” He pointed his chin towards the bar.

You sat down next to him and smiled innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”

Joel knew you long enough to recognize when you were teasing him, and he smirked despite the doubts swirling in his mind.

“Was that guy givin’ you any trouble?” he asked lazily, deciding to play along.

“Would you beat the shit out of him if I said yes?” you asked with your eyebrows raised, and Joel shrugged, acting nonchalant.

“Probably.”

You giggled and bumped his shoulder with yours playfully.

“Then no. Peter’s a good guy. Just a little,” you seemed to be looking for the right word, “uhm, persistent.” When Joel sent you a dubious look, you rolled your eyes and made a face. “He’s politely hitting on me, but doesn’t get that I’m not interested. He works at the same place I do.”

“If he keeps makin’ you uncomfortable, that’s not very polite.” You squinted at him and Joel lifted his hands in fake surrender. “M’not sayin’ anythin’. You can take care of yourself, I know that.”

You hummed melodically and glanced at the bar, then back at Joel. Then back at the bar again where that Peter guy stood. Joel noticed you biting the inside of your cheek, so he gently nudged your knee with his.

“What’s on your mind, sweet girl?”

“Maybe you could help me make it clear that I’m taken?” you blurted out quickly, making him crack a smile and chuckle under his breath.

It was so very easy to forget about all the problems in the world when you were there, sitting right next to him and warming his soul and body with your mere presence.

“Come ‘ere,” he breathed and tugged you gently to sit on his lap. You faltered, but he gave your hand another light tug, and finally you let him guide you, putting one arm around his shoulders and making yourself comfortable.

Joel’s hand mindlessly went to rest on your thigh and he rubbed it comfortingly. That Peter guy, as he noted with satisfaction, was staring right back at you, eyeing the way your body was pressed flush against Joel’s with a twisted face.

Once the eyes of the both men met, Joel leaned in and kissed your neck, keeping eye contact the entire time. Peter turned away, taking a large swig from his glass.

Joel felt your muscles relaxing, and you giggled adorably next to his ear at his antics, hiding your neck between your shoulders when he nibbled at your skin lightly. Then your hand covered his, the one lying on your thigh, and stroked his skin lovingly.

Maybe Joel was keeping you chained somehow. Then again, he was but a selfish creature after all. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to ever truly let you go.

*****

The next few days – which then turned into weeks – Joel spent wondering. Mostly about what to do with his predicaments.

He had a couple of them.

The first problem was the nights. They became more difficult since he noticed… details about himself that weren’t there before, and which bothered him more and more with each day.

Joel used to love the nightfall, especially since you all settled in Jackson. In those evening hours no one bothered him, he could finally relax, spend some time alone with you, and later collapse on the bed to get a good-night sleep.

Well, not anymore.

The bedtime unexpectedly became the most stressful one for him. He was so fucking mad at himself, because laying down and having a chance to hold you in his arms was something he treasured for the longest time, but now his own insecurities stood in a way of it.

You loved cuddling and being close to him in your sleep, and Joel was never bothered by it – hell, he initiated those moments more often than not. But now he started noticing more and more how this layer of fat on his stomach moved and looked like when you draped your arm around him or snuggled closer to his chest, and it became all he could think about.

It bothered Joel so much that he started wearing a t-shirt to bed, even though he hated it with all his passion. When you asked about it, he lied that he’s cold, but in reality he was always sweaty by morning. It didn’t seem to make any difference to you, though, and you didn’t shy away from pressing your body close to his, and even slipping your hands under his shirt when you were spooning him. Some days Joel was waking up with you lying on his chest or having your arm slung across his belly, and every time it caused a lump in his throat.

He knew you didn’t mean anything bad by it – for God’s sake, you probably didn’t even have any idea that he had a problem with himself – but what once was a wonderful start of the day, now became a bitter reminder of all those things he was insecure about.

Recently he built a habit of waking up before you – he did it often before, but he always stayed in bed and waited for you to open your eyes, too – and carefully disentangling himself from your embrace. It wasn’t like it didn’t feel wonderful to be enveloped by you in this way, but once he stirred awake, lying still was a herculean task. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, his skin was itching and buzzing, he was sweating from nerves and a lot of horrible, self-depriving thoughts were flooding his mind.

So once he woke up, he’d go take a shower, trying to be a little bit louder than necessary in hopes that you’d already be awake when he gets back – so that he wouldn’t feel so guilty about not laying back down next to you.

The second of his problems was that you began to watch him more closely.

He didn’t know when it started happening, but in hindsight he realized it was just a matter of time – he was acting weird, after all, and you knew him too well not to notice anything.

A couple of times in the last few days only, Joel caught you staring at him in silence. Your eyes were solemn and your forehead sad, though you were quick to smile and act like nothing was amiss as soon as he turned your way.

You must have known something was wrong, but Joel didn’t ask about it. Honestly, with all that was happening in his own head, he didn’t want to know.

But at the same time it was as if nothing odd was happening. You were your usual self, a blessing in Joel’s life, and you still sought to be close to him and spend as much time together as possible. You still told him you loved him, surprised him with unexpected gestures of affection…

Just like today – you hugged him from behind while he was dressing up, started kissing his shoulders so tenderly and murmuring sweet nothings into his skin… In those moments Joel could almost forget about everything that was nagging him. It was easy to believe that you still liked the way he looked, that he was deserving of you, when you treated him with nothing but overwhelming love.

But the itch in the back of his mind never really disappeared. Even though he wanted it to.

Those thoughts filled his mind while you were sitting on his lap, telling him some story from work in a soft voice. You two were at Tommy’s, waiting for him to get back from helping his wife with something, and the day was so beautiful that you all went out onto the patio in front of the house to enjoy the unusually warm weather for this time of the year.

Joel’s hand was on your thigh, stroking it absentmindedly, while he nodded to whatever you were saying, but for the life of him, he could not focus.

Has your physique changed as well? Joel didn’t care about those things, of course, and in his eyes you were as breathtaking as ever – maybe even more, since so many of your worries disappeared and he got to see your smile more often. And you still felt perfect under his hands when he was holding you at night, still looked like a goddess every time he got to admire your naked body.

But even though he wouldn’t have cared either way if you gained some weight or looked any different, his body still bothered him.

You rested your head on his shoulder, and Joel fixed his attention to the wind-blown tree crowns in the distance.

Maybe he should start exercising.

Joel never liked the idea of waking up early and running down the streets in a sweat-soaked t-shirt, or going to the gym where everyone seems to stare and judge you, but it was never necessary.

With how much traveling, heavy-lifting and working he had to do, he never concerned himself with the way he looked. Hell, these things are the last on your mind when you’re fighting for your life in this god-forsaken world. But here, in Jackson, it was different. Life was good, and you were happy. And as stupid as it sounded for him, Joel wanted to look good for you.

Maybe he should ask Maria to assign him to extra patrols. He already volunteered for the morning ones, but perhaps…

“You’re quiet.”

Joel didn’t realize you stopped telling your story. He pressed his lips together and his hand on your thigh stilled.

“Sorry.”

“No need for that,” you reassured him quickly. Then you cupped his cheeks and lifted his head gently. “I don’t mean ‘now’, though, I mean… lately, in general.” Your eyes were flickering across his face, like you were hoping to read the answer from his features. “Is there something you wanna talk about?”

No. Hell no. It was bad enough that Joel himself was aware of his issue, he didn’t want to make it even more noticeable by pointing it out to you.

Which reminded him – he moved his torso away from you only a few millimeters.

“No, babygirl,” he answered. He brushed some hair behind your ear, smiling softly even though inside he despised himself for lying to you. “Everythin’s fine.”

You didn’t seem convinced and still were studying his face with concern. Joel resumed petting your thigh, wanting to put you at ease. He could worry about himself, but he didn’t need to concern you with his problems, too.

“I promise,” he added. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

That look in your eyes didn’t disappear, but you hummed and dropped your hands. It didn’t take a genius to know you didn’t believe him.

“If you say so,” you answered at last, and then covered his hand on your leg with your own. “But remember you can talk to me whenever you want. About anything.”

Jesus, your kindness was only confirming his concerns if he was the right person for you. Joel shook his head with a crooked smile.

“You’re gettin’ sappy.”

“It’s because I’m worried,” you shot back without skipping a beat, swatting at his chest with the back of your hand. “And you’re not making it any easier.”

“There’s nothin’ for you to worry about,” he repeated, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. But he failed.

You pressed your lips together and then made a move to get up from his lap without a word. Joel held onto you delicately, not letting you stand up.

“Wait, darlin’,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “Didn’t mean to say it that way. I just… feel tired. Sorry.”

Your eyes softened when you took in the regret and weariness on his face. Joel felt your fingertips on his jaw, but before you could question him further, Tommy returned from the inside of the house with a grin.

“Age is a heavy burden, eh, ol’ dog?” he teased, apparently having heard the last bit of their conversation. The younger Miller placed three bottles of beer on the table, and winked at you. “That’s just how it is for us now. Enjoy your youth while you still can, punk.”

Joel felt a sharp jab in his ribs, not unlike being stabbed. He couldn’t find it in himself to look at his brother, less alone laugh at his teasing.

Of course Tommy didn’t mean anything bad by it, but his words were just a bitter reminder of the ever-present pit of Joel’s stomach.

The weight of you on his lap suddenly felt a lot lighter, and he himself felt so, so very heavy and tired.

Old.

Joel could feel your eyes boring into his face, but a second later you turned to Tommy, taking the burden of filling the uncomfortable silence.

“It’s already started for me. Sometimes I feel like my bones want to kill me prematurely.”

“M’sure Joel won’t let that happen. He’d fight your skeleton if you said it’s botherin’ you.”

You snorted and shook your head, but your smile faltered when you turned to Joel again. He almost broke down right then and there from the guilt and tightness in his chest.

And the dark feeling inside him just grew when your eyes stayed sad and concerned for the rest of the day.

*****

It had to end.

Joel could no longer pretend everything was alright like he wasn’t dying on the inside every time you did as much as hold his hand. He felt horrible about lying, avoiding spending time together and denying you affection he knew you so loved receiving.

If he was being honest with himself, he wanted this affection, too. Undisturbed with self-doubts and guilt.

He fucking craved it.

Those last few weeks, his evenings were mostly spent away from you and the warmth of your shared home. The nights, on the other hand, when he would sneak in and quietly lay down next to you (but just a little further away), became full of intrusive thoughts and wallowing in self-loathing.

No matter what excuse he came up with, you were persistent in holding and being close to him during the night, and Joel discovered that the only way to prevent you from doing it was to come to bed after you’ve already fallen asleep.

But it was a damn torture.

The worst part was when he was coming home to the sight of you lying amongst the tangled sheets and blankets in his bed. No matter if you were drooling or a pillow has imprinted itself on your cheek, every time this sight made Joel weak in the knees. You looked like a gorgeous, priceless painting, and it pained him to disrupt your rest with his arrival.

He tried to volunteer for evening patrols, because then he’d have a real reason to come home late, but not only Maria didn’t want to pair him with anyone during those hours – she also suspended him from all patrols whatsoever. Joel was understandably furious, but the damn woman threatened to tell Tommy about it if he kept being ‘a stubborn pain in her ass’. She sent him back home, murmuring something about spending more time with you, which he tried to pretend he hadn’t heard.

Joel sighed, sitting up on the edge of the bed and hiding his face in his hand.

If Maria of all people could see that there were some problems in your and Joel’s relationship, then you had to notice, too.

Christ, he was the worst.

Joel didn’t want to push you away, of course not. He wanted to stay with you more than anything, but that desire did nothing to diminish the guilt suffocating him. For some time, he felt like the luckiest man alive, having the privilege to call you his and every day come home to you. But now with all those little things he started to notice, he felt like a fraud.

It wasn’t even about him not deserving you anymore – it was that you didn’t deserve this fucking treatment he was giving you these past few weeks.

Fuck, he had to tell you the truth. About the patrols, sneaking out, distancing himself, all of it. He couldn’t bear lying to you a day longer.

Joel stood up and pulled his sweaty t-shirt over his head. He wrinkled his nose at the smell and patted himself under his armpits and on the back, then reached for a clean one.

He’ll figure it out. He just needed some time to come up with a way to–

“Morning, handsome.”

Joel flinched and turned around quickly, not having realized you were awake, but whatever excuse he had in mind, it fell dead on his lips.

You stretched with a groan, reaching one arm high above your head and rubbing your eyes with the other hand. A sleepy smile danced on your lips when you looked back at him with sparkles in your slightly puffy eyes, and Joel didn’t have any other word to describe you than ‘ethereal’.

“What are you doing?” you asked groggily, relaxing against the pillow and looking him up and down.

“Uhmm…” he hesitated, clutching the t-shirt that was in need of washing close to his chest. His gaze was drawn to the window. “Goin’ out, actually. I’ve got some work…”

“No, you don’t,” you interrupted him and swung off the covers from his side of the bed. “Get back here.”

Joel looked at you with surprise.

“What?”

“You heard me, Miller. Get your ass back on the bed.”

He crumpled the shirt in his hands, hesitating, but his eyes softened as soon as he looked back at you and your raised eyebrows – like you were challenging him to just try and refuse you.

But how could he, when you looked so pretty lying in his bed and demanding to have him close to you? How could he ever deny you anything?

With a defeated sigh, Joel started putting the t-shirt back on, but the sound of you humming in protest stopped him. Your face was grumpy when he glanced up.

“Nah. No shirt.” You extended your hand in his direction, making a grabbing motion. “Come here.”

Joel didn’t move. “Why?”

You rolled your eyes and dramatically flopped down onto the pillows, looking up at him with an adorable pout.

“Because it’s been a long time since I got a chance to admire my handsome, sexy man,” you answered with sincerity, and then grinned. “Now come here. If you ditch your shirt, I’ll consider ditching mine.”

He still didn’t move. You were patient, but when it became clear that he wasn’t going to do anything, you sent him a small, sweet smile. “If you get cold again, I promise to do something about it, love.”

Joel physically felt his heart softening at your words and at the sight of you.

With a silent sigh – and only a split second of hesitation – he took off the t-shirt and quickly laid down on his back next to you. He felt a bile rise in his throat, though he had no idea why, and it became almost choking when you shifted closer to him, putting one hand on his chest.

“You’ve deprived me of this beautiful view for too long,” you whispered, kissing the place below his collarbone, and then going up to the base of his neck. “I missed seeing you like this.”

“There’s nothin’ to miss,” Joel muttered, not moving a single muscle. He had his hands entwined on his stomach and to look in your direction was the biggest effort anyone could demand from him now. “We sleep next to each other every night, sweetheart.”

“You know what I mean,” you breathed into his neck, leaving love bites wherever your lips strayed. “You’re going out so early these days. And you work late.”

“Patrols,” Joel grunted with gritted teeth, his muscles tense and breathing ragged as your warm palm caressed his waist. “Sorry.”

“You work too hard, love.” You sat up and swung one of your legs over his lap. Joel actually shivered when you took his hands in your own and placed them on your hips. “Let me help you relax.”

Oh, fuck.

Jesus fucking Christ, Joel was sure he was going to drop dead at any second now.

“Darlin’…” he began, but you made a noise in your throat and leaned in to kiss him deeply, pressing your body to his. Joel loved when you initiated those moments between you two, and you looked so fucking hot sitting on top of him – but for the life of him, he could not relax.

“It hits me every once in a while how lucky I am to have you,” you whispered in such a sweet, adoring voice, like you didn’t hear him. You pressed your lips against his stubble again, igniting every inch of his skin with your touch. “Let me enjoy you. I love you so much, you know that?”

“I…”

I love you, too.

Lord, he loved you so much. Why was it so hard to return your affections, then? Why did he feel like the biggest crook by letting you love him?

Joel let out a shuddering sigh he didn’t know he was holding when you pressed your lips to the edge of his jaw, before capturing his mouth in a kiss. It was sweet, but heated at the same time and, without even thinking about it, he found himself wrapping his strong arms around you, bringing you closer to his chest. You smiled against his lips and murmured something he didn’t quite catch.

A groan escaped him when you bit his lower lip lightly, your soft palm going down, from his chest, to his stomach, down…

He couldn’t do it.

Joel abruptly rose to the sitting position and grabbed your wrist, his eyes sad and painful.

“I’m sorry, baby” he said with furrowed brows, gently setting you aside and off his lap, before standing up quickly. “I’m so sorry, babygirl, I love you, I promise, but I can’t… I don’t feel good today. I’m sorry.”

“Joel…” you started, but he shook his head, putting his t-shirt back on and turning away from you not to let you see the absolute wrecked expression on his face and wetness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he kept saying, feeling like he’s about to throw up from the nerves and the burning shame. He cursed himself internally, wanting to turn around, to take your face in his hands and kiss you deeply, but he… he... “I’m so…”

All strength left him in a blink of an eye and suddenly he slumped on the bed, hiding his face in his hands. Joel desperately tried to get a grip on himself, but his chest felt so tight, and all the worry, all the guilt and fear, and self-loathing came crashing down on him all at once.

“M’sorry, darlin’,” he whispered hoarsely, his lips trembling and that damn muscle in his cheek pulsing when he felt the mattress dipping and your tentative touch on his face.

“No, no, baby, it’s alright,” you started saying quietly, trying to take his cheeks in your hands, but he didn’t let you. “Oh, Joel… Come here.”

You gently pulled him into your arms, guiding his head to rest in the crook of your neck. Joel hid his face in your skin, realizing with dread that his own shoulders were shaking.

For God’s sake, he needed to stop, he needed to put himself together and not show any weakness–

But it was you. It was your warm embrace and your loving hands brushing his hair, and your quiet whispers while you held him. It was your kindness and understanding, and stubbornness coming from love. You weren’t someone he had to hide from.

So he let you in. He let you hold him.

“Joel, please. Talk to me,” you spoke up after some time, and though your tone was soft, it somehow sounded too loud in the silence of the room. “I need to know what’s going on with you, you’re worrying me.”

“Nothin’ is goin’ on,” he answered out of habit, not even moving a muscle. “I just… fuck, sorry.”

“Stop apologizing and talk to me.” Joel pursed his lips, while you massaged his back gently. “Whatever it is, we’re gonna get through it together, okay? It’s gonna be okay, love, I promise.”

He planned on telling you. He wanted to tell you and get it off his chest, but… he wasn’t ready. Not now. Not when he broke down in front of you, for fuck’s sake.

But you deserved to know. If not to help him, then at least to make you aware of what you’ve gotten yourself into. It wasn’t fair to keep you in the dark and at arm’s length because of his absurd fears.

He wetted his lips and inhaled softly, but no words came out.

You gently lifted his head and Joel immediately squeezed his eyes shut, knowing there was no way he’d be able to say anything if he looked at you.

“You can tell me, baby,” you whispered sadly, touching the side of his face. “Anything. I promise everything will be alright.”

Joel was silent for a couple of moments, before he swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to calm down his pounding heart.

“I don’t have any extra work,” he started very quietly, so his voice wouldn’t break. “I was lyin’ to you, and I… I’m so sorry about that. I don’t get sent on any patrols now, actually…”

He shook his head and sighed heavily, faltering. He knew that wasn’t the problem, and although lying to you was one of the things he was guilty of, it wasn’t what started all of it. And you must’ve known it, too, because you kept looking at him, not saying anything.

“The thin’ is, I… God dammit,” he murmured, turning his head away from you and hiding his face in his hands, still keeping his eyes closed. “I can’t… I don’t– I have a problem with myself,” he finally blurted out, not even caring now if you understood his muffled words. “I keep…”

Fuck, man, just say it.

“I’m… I’m not as fit as I used to be,” he murmured, not moving an inch in fear that you’ll spot the wetness on his eyelashes. “I don’t want to do you harm, darlin’, keepin’ you from… Jesus, I don’t know. From livin’ your life, happily and to the fullest.”

“Joel…” You whispered with pain in your voice. “Is this what it is about?”

Joel shook his head, letting out a shuddering breath, still as quietly as he could.

“I’m old,” he said with tiredness he didn’t know he had in himself. “And you… You’re so pretty and young, I…” He lowered his forehead onto his hand, rubbing his temple. “I would like nothin’ more than to spend the rest of my life with you, darlin’. But I’m afraid I’m not… not good for you. You could do so much better–”

“Hey. Hey, none of that.” You forced his hands away from his face by cradling it in your own palms. “There’s no one else I’d rather share my days with.”

Joel just shut his eyes tighter, trying to contain the tears that started to gather in them.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered. “But in a couple of years I’ll be… God, I’ll be fuckin’ sixty, and you–”

“Do you really think I care about that?” you asked softly, brushing your thumbs under his eyes, but he shook his head, like you didn’t understand. “Joel, I love you more than anything in this world. And I know you love me.” He heard the faintest smile in your voice, and it made him feel so, so terrible with himself – that you were trying to make him feel better when you shouldn’t have, he shouldn’t have been another one of your worries… “So where’s the problem? I want to be with you. Only you.”

Joel pressed his lips together and before he could stop himself, he draped his arms over his lap, like he was trying to hide the evidence of his insecurities from you, even though his torso was already covered by the t-shirt.

“You’re young and beautiful,” he repeated, still unable to find strength in himself to look you in the eye. “And I’m anythin’ but. I just don’t wanna…”

Joel didn’t know what else to say.

He didn’t want you to leave. He didn’t want to spend another night apart from you. He didn’t want to push you away.

“Just don’t want you to be unhappy,” he finally murmured.

You let out something between a short chuckle and a stifled sob, and your fingers found Joel’s, still wrapped around his stomach.

“Do I look unhappy to you?” you asked, almost in disbelief. Joel finally willed himself to glance at you, if only to see for himself – which turned out to be a mistake. Your eyes were sad and teary, but not full of hurt or distaste like he feared, and you still had this faint smile on your face. He quickly turned his head away and you must’ve realized how you looked because your hold on his fingers tightened slightly. “Not right now. In general, did I ever do something to make you think I’m not happy with you?”

“No,” he answered quietly, not even having to think about it. “But it doesn’t…”

“I told you before, how can I even look at anyone else when I have you?” you spoke up when he faltered. “You’re beautiful to me, Joel, even if you don’t believe me right now. You’re amazing and kind, you’re fucking hot, and yeah, maybe you’re stubborn at times, but I love you so much, and every day I find another reason to fall for you all over again.”

Joel met your eyes again, looking for any hesitation or deceit – but he didn’t find any. As always, you were sincere in everything you said.

He realized, with another wave of tears threatening to roll down his cheeks, how much he missed your affection that he alone deprived himself from. How much he longed for this intimacy that once came so easily to him.

“M’sorry,” he muttered at last, lifting his hand to your face and trying to ignore those damn tears spilling from behind his eyelids. “Never doubted you, babygirl, but I just didn’t know how… how to tell you.”

“It’s okay, Joel,” you nuzzled your cheek into his palm, planting a kiss on the inside of his hand. “It’s alright, c’mon here.”

Not letting go of his hand, you tugged him gently and leaned back on the pillows. With great effort he refrained from fighting you, and instead let you pull him down, laying his head on your chest.

And in an instant, everything was alright again. The moment Joel heard your heartbeat under his ear and felt your gentle hands on the nape of his neck and his back… it was like coming home. This feeling of warmth spreading across his limbs made him feel safe for the first time in weeks.

It was so long since he fully let you hold him.

Maybe that’s what he’s been missing.

“I adore you, Joel Miller,” you whispered into the top of his head, holding him close to your heart. “All of you, and just the way you are.”

Joel couldn’t help it – a small smile crept onto his lips.

“Called it,” he murmured. “You’re gettin’ sappy.”

You snorted and kissed his hairline. “I think you need it, handsome.”

“Maybe I do,” he conceded, not moving his head from your chest, and sighed tiredly. “Dammit, missed holdin’ you like this, babygirl. M’so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you countered, but he continued.

“I just didn’t know how to talk about it… How to tell you that I feel bad. About… the way I look.”

Joel felt your hands on his cheeks, and although he really didn’t want to move from the position he was in, he let you lift his head.

“I love the way you look,” you said quietly, in a tone that made Joel’s old heart flutter. “And our bodies change, there’s nothing wrong with that. If anything, I’m really happy that both of us can enjoy this kind of life.” You leaned in and nudged Joel’s nose with yours, closing your eyes. “Every change of our bodies is a sign that we’re finally safe after all we’ve been through. 

“But you look gorgeous as ever, sweet girl.”

“M’glad to hear it, Mr Miller,” you teased, but then your smile turned wistful. “But you know, I was insecure about my looks, too, not sure if you noticed. My stomach and thighs, and,” you rolled your eyes, “well, my butt.”

Normally Joel would throw a playful remark, or try to make you giggle, but this time he stayed silent. He just listened to your soft voice, drinking in your features.

“It worried me for some time. But you still put your hand on my leg when I was sitting with you, and you never shied away from telling and showing me,” you stressed this word, a teasing note in your tone, “how much you like my body.”

“‘Course I do,” he murmured quietly, lifting himself on his elbows and leaning over you despite your huffs and efforts to keep him in place.

“So I thought that maybe you didn’t care about this extra weight, or even didn’t–”

The rest of your words were swallowed by Joel’s lips when he kissed you deeply and hungrily. So many strong emotions were swirling inside his chest, he didn’t know anymore what to do with himself. At first you tried to continue your train of thought, but soon gave up, erupting into giggles when Joel latched his lips onto your neck and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to bring you in even closer.

“I didn’t care,” he was whispering into your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. “I don’t.”

“Then you see– Joel, stop it!” You squealed when he carried on with his assault, not giving you a second to gather your thoughts.

“M’so lucky to have you,” he whispered while peppering your face in soft kisses. “Thank you, babygirl.”

You finally managed to free your arms, and you cupped his face in your hands with a huge grin that Joel decided he wanted to see every day. Another adorable giggle escaped you when he snuggled his scratchy cheek into your palm.

“I know it will take time,” you said gently, but firmly, looking deep into his eyes. “But no matter how long it’ll take, I will make you understand how incredibly attracted I am to you.” Joel hung his head low to hide a bashful snigger, and your smile grew. “Understand?”

“Yeah, yeah. Understood, ma’am.”

“Good.” You pulled him closer to plant a slow kiss on his lips, and asked seductively: “I can start right now, if you’d want to. I don’t want my handsome man to feel insecure about any part of him.”

God, he loved you so much.

Joel hid his face in the crook of your neck again, his heart squeezing with adoration and disbelief at how it came that he’d been blessed with someone like you.

“Y’know what, sweetheart? I think it’d do me good.”

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i’m obsessed with the idea of cult leader!geto pining for a reader who just fucking hates him. i don’t know why just. maybe it’s someone from his past that he left behind when he defected, maybe they’re bitter and spiteful and all they do is hiss and bite but he’s so smitten. you can do no wrong in his eyes. he deserves the curses and anger, he knows, and he receives them with a smile and eyes full of hearts. he gets giddy when you scowl at him. he just thinks you’re love personified. he’s so gentle and patient that it’s infuriating because nothing you do or say will get him to bite back. it’s like you’re a kitten gnawing at his fist but he does nothing but coo at you even when you draw blood

[hamartia-grander]

I'm back with more

(most my original jokes but some are based on other tweets)

[blueskittlesart]

*sigh* thoughts on Nintendo's botw/totk timeline shenanigans and tomfoolery?

tbh. my maybe-unpopular opinion is that the timeline is only important when a game's place on the timeline seriously informs the way their narrative progresses. the problem is that before botw we almost NEVER got games where it didn't matter. it matters for skyward sword because it's the beginning, and it matters for tp/ww/alttp (and their respective sequels) because the choices the hero of time makes explicitly inform the narrative of those games in one way or another. it matters which timeline we're in for those games because these cycles we're seeing are close enough to oot's cycle that they're still feeling the effects of his choices. botw, however, takes place at minimum 10 thousand years after oot, so its place on the timeline actually functionally means nothing. botw is completely divorced from the hero of time & his story, so what he does is a nonissue in the context of botw link and zelda's story. thus, which timeline botw happens in is a nonissue. honestly I kind of liked the idea that it happened in all of them. i think there's a cool idea of inevitability that can be played with there. but the point is that the timeline exists to enhance and fill in the lore of games that need it, and botw/totk don't really need it because the devs finally realized they could make a game without the hero of time in it.

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 17 - Orgy

Soap x Gaz x Ghost x Price x Rudy x Alejandro x Reader - 5.3k (on ao3)

summary: You have an orgy with your favorite boys. (Reader POV)

cw: double penetration in two holes, double penetration in one hole, spitroasting, sex in front of other people, very light soft degradation, praise, overstimulation

note: this doesn't even have an ATTEMPT at plot alright? we're here to be horny and move on. also i think this is more gangbang than orgy but whatever lol

You’re not sure who you’re making out with. It’s not like you care all that much - laid out on the bed like a queen, Price serving as your throne where he holds you half up with your legs spread - you’re perfectly content to just sit and kiss, for hours on end.

It was Soap first - Soap and his messy kisses, broad stripes licked into your mouth, sucking on your tongue so vehemently you nearly thought he was trying to keep it. He was playful, nipping at your lips, grinning everytime he pulled back enough for you to see.

Then Gaz, who shoved Soap away to have a turn with you. They’d bickered for a moment before Price, from over your shoulder, big hands cupping your chest and massaging, reminded him that he could lick your pussy too. He was more than happy to duck down after that, leaving you with Gaz. 

Gaz was sweet, long slow kisses that matched the way Price groped you but were a sharp contrast to the eagerness Soap had. Kyle peppered your mouth with kisses, layering them one over the other and hardly giving you time to breathe between them, while Soap ate you with a fervor you’ve never felt before. The difference in pace left you squirming, just a bit, but Price kept you still for them.

You’re not sure when Gaz left, but Soap’s work on your cunt felt so good, so overwhelming, that you couldn’t open your eyes even to see who next took a turn.

He’s got scruff on his face, which you feel rubbing against your cheeks and your palms when you reach up to hold him. His kisses are fun - you can feel him smiling and humming into your lips - and he works your mouth slowly, tangling your tongue together. Where Soap and Gaz had wanted to explore, your mystery man wants to play.

You want to look and see who it is, but the pleasure doesn’t let you, Soap’s mouth on your clit, two of his fingers buried deep in your ass, Price giving you sharp little pinches around your areolas - it all keeps you just a little too foggy to work up the energy. You’re content to luxuriate in the sensations, to relax back into Price and just let your body feel.

“There you go, doll,” Price coos from over your shoulder. “Nice and relaxed for us, yeah? Gonna need you to stay like that if you want to take us all.”

“Please,” you breathe between kisses, eyelashes fluttering as you finally manage to look up. “Wanna feel you all.”

It’s Rudy above you, a soft smile turning his lips up and leaving crinkles at the corners of his eyes. You reach up to cup his cheek, but at that exact moment Soap takes your clit between his lips and sucks, and your movement is halted as you moan.

You hear and feel both Rudy and Price laugh, and Rudy leans forward the last few inches to nuzzle his cheek into your palm. The two of you lean foreheads against each other as you moan, hips making small grinding motions into Soap’s face.

“You will,” Rudy says. “You’re a good girl, yes?”

You nod with a small keen as Johnny starts to work a third finger inside of your back hole.

He smiles. “Then you’ll take all of us.”

Alejandro replaces Price behind you at a certain point, his hard muscle a much less comfortable chair compared to the soft layer of fat lining Price. He’s smaller though, which means you can roll your face back into his neck and he only has to duck a few inches to give you the kisses you silently request.

“Out of the way, hermano,” Rudy says, softly shoving Soap away from you by the shoulders. Johnny doesn’t go easily at all, growling a little and hammering his fingers into you just a bit harder, enough to have you gasping and squirming. Ghost grabs Johnny by the nape of his neck before he can get too aggressive, yanking him away with an unimpressed look. 

“Thanks,” Rudy says on a laugh, getting a nod in return from Ghost. “Now, for you,” he turns to you and smiles, settling himself between your widely spread thighs so his hard member rests on your center, shaft pressing against your clit. “You ready to take us both, cariño?”

“Yes,” you sigh, pulling away from Alejandro and his absolutely sinful mouth, shooting both of them your best pleading look. “Please, want to feel you.”

“Shh,” Alejandro soothes, stroking one hand down the center of your chest and the other lining his own head up with your stretched hole. “You’ll get what you want, just relax for us.”

You take a deep breath, let your eyes slide shut. On the exhale they both push in, a slow thrust that leaves you feeling like you might burst. The three of you moan in sync, your head thrown back to Ale’s shoulder, his forehead falling to your temple, Rudy curling over so he can mouth at one of your nipples.

It takes a bit for them to bottom out inside of them at the slow pace, both of them large men. You’ve never had something quite so large in your ass, but the stretch feels exquisite.

The three of you are panting in sync as soon as you’re filled to the brim.

“You first, hermano,” Alejandro says from above you, his voice rough with desire.

Rudy laughs a little breathlessly. “I’m not going to argue with you.” He pulls far enough back to give you a long, sweet kiss, pulling away with a playful nip before holding himself up. He rests his hands on Alejandro’s shoulders to give himself the leverage that he wants.

“Feels so good,” you moan, undulating your hips just enough that they both pull out and sink back in. “C’mon, need it.”

Alejandro laughs, burying his face in your neck and wrapping his arms around you. “Be patient, amor, he’s gonna give it to you.”

You try to shoot Rudy your best you better look, but it’s probably a little dulled by the man sucking hickies into your neck. 

Rudy fucks you deep. On each thrust he pulls out nearly the entire way, and each time he pushes back in he nearly hits your cervix. He’s not slow, but he’s not fucking you like an animal either. He feels perfect inside of you, sliding along that spot inside of you and bumping your clit every time he bottoms out.

The two of you moan loudly as he fucks you, Alejandro grunting at the sensations he’s getting, the way you clench down on him like you never want him to leave. You blink wet eyes open, glancing over to see what the others are up to on the other side of the bed.

You see Gaz with Price’s dick in his mouth - not sucking, just warming him - and Ghost jacking a very wiggly Soap off. They’re all staring at the show you’re putting on, all a little red in the cheeks with heavier breaths.

Price meets your eyes first. “You making them feel good, pet?”

You nod as much as you can manage, breath hitching when you try to answer.

“She’s unimaginable,” Rudy pants from above you, hips working just a bit quicker as he nears the edge. “Tight like you wouldn’t believe.”

Alejandro laughs at that, one hand slipping down your stomach to explore the soaked folds of your cunt. “Won’t be once we’re done with her.”

You moan when he finds your clit, rubbinb you in fast and rhythmic little circles that drag you right to the edge.

“Don’t leave her so loose we can’t have any fun,” Ghost gruffs, nearly drowned out by the moans and slick slapping sounds filling the room.

“Not-” Rudy starts, then stops to catch his breath as he starts to really fuck you, thrusts hard and pounding. “Not selfish, h-hermano.”

There’s a small laugh at that, but you don’t know who it’s from. You’re too focused on arching your back as much as you can, clenching down hard on the cock still stuffing your ass but not doing a thing, the way Alejandro’s fingers are driving you insane with their perfect little motions, and the way Rudy’s hitting every perfect spot inside of you.

“Gonna- gonne come, please, feels so good!” You gasp, moaning and letting your head roll back onto Alejandro’s shoulder, hips moving in a desperate attempt to push yourself off that cliff. Your hands come back to grip Alejandro’s head, and he presses kisses to your shoulder.

Finally, finally, you manage to reach that peak. You moan loudly as your thrown into an orgasm, body going completely limp between the two men, cunt clenching along with the waves of pleasure and milking both of them.

Rudy comes just after you, your inner muscle’s massage triggering his own orgasm. He buries himself to the hilt inside of you when he does, maoning and panting against your skin.

“Fuck,” Rudy hisses over your shoulder, working his fingers and sending both you and Rudy into overstimulation. “Feel so good clenched tight like that, amor, you feel so good for us.”

Rudy lifts his head enough to nudge at Alejandro’s head and you hear the slick sounds of making out as you ride out the rest of your orgasm. Alejandro’s fingers slow as your heartbeat does, working you down from the pleasure in a perfect way. You feel sort of like you’re being caught in a bed of feathers - a sharp fall with a soft fall, wrapped in softness and warmth when you hit the ground.

“Buena niña,” Rudy pants when he pulls apart from Alejandro. “Such a good girl, feel so good when you come around me.”

You can only whine at that, body still a little worked up with both holes filled.

Rudy fixes that problem by pulling out just a moment later, both his and your eyes glued to your hole as he does. There’s a slow dribble of cum as soon as he’s free of you, and neither of you bothers to hold back your moans.

“My turn,” Alejandro says, and you can feel the way he smirks against your neck. “You ready, cariño?”

You take a few deep breaths, let your nerves settle back into your body a bit, then nod. “Yes, want you too, Ale, want you to fuck me.”

“Good girl,” he purrs. A moment later he’s got you flipped onto your front, hands just barely catching you so you’re held up on hands and knees. He’s solid and tall behind you when you glance over your shoulder, hands planted on your hips to keep himself fully inside of you.

He cocks his head to the side a little, asking permission. Like this, you’re just a foot away from the sight of Gaz’s throat working at Price’s length, and over him you can see Soap writing in Ghost’s lap as the larger man gives his cock no mercy.

You shift your knees wider, slip down until your chest is pressed to the mattress, then nod your consent to Alejandro.

He braces you for a moment, giving your hips a quick squeeze as he shifts himself, then pulls nearly the entire way out of you. You shift on your knees a bit, whining at the anticipation, but he only shushes you, giving your hips a quick tap.

He doesn’t fuck you like Rudy had. Alejandro fucks you deep, but hardly pulls out even half-way on every thrust. It’s like he wants to be as connected to you as possible, keeping as much of himself buried in your heat as he can while still making himself feel good. The short, sharp thrusts leave you moaning on every breath, the sounds punched out of you.

“Good girl,” he moans above you, grip brusing on your hips. “Such a good cocksleeve for me, yeah? Nice and tight around my cock… clench down for me, amor, make it feel better.”

You listen to his command, moaning even louder when he feels that much larger inside of you. Clenching your rim tight around him makes the stretch burn just the slightest bit, even with all the prep you’d gotten, and you relish in the slight sting.

“Don’t foget about her,” Rudy pants from where he’s collapsed beside you, eyes glued to the way your cheeks bounce on every thrust. “She feels best when she’s coming.”

Alejandro bites out a curse, one of his hands leaving to move back to your slick folds. He tucks two fingers inside of you, drawing a loud cry from your throat, and rubs the heel of his hand against your swollen clit.

“Alejandro!” You shout, pushing yourself back on him and his hand to try and get more of the perfect sensations. “P-please, feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He leans over you, breath ghosting over your back as his thrusts get a little sloppier, a little harsher. “Feels nice, huh? Both holes stuffed full, just the way you were meant to be.”

His own words are what set him off, his dirty talk fading into a stream of moans as he stiffens buried inside of you, the hot splash of cum coating your insides. He works his palm and fingers slowly in your cunt, and you’re brought to a rolling orgasm, clenching hard on him.

Your moan is nearly pornographic, face squished against the sheets and back arched so your ass stays high in the air. He grinds his hips into your ass, getting as much of his dick inside of you as he can while you milk the cum from him.

He pulls out uncermoniously, and you can’t help but whine a little sadly at the sudden emptiness as both his cock and fingers leave you. He hushes you a bit, fingering some of his come back into your loose hole. “There you go, keep it nice and warm for me, cariño.”

“Alright,” you hear Ghost grunt from in front of you, open your eyes up just in time to see him throw Johnny off his lap and stand to make his way to the other side of the bed. “Our turn now, fuck off.”

Rudy and Alejandro both laugh good-naturedly, shifting to take their places beside Price and Gaz. You see the two of them cuddle up together, their slick cocks resting by one another. Gaz has shifted to nursing Price’s balls as he smokes a cigar, blowing the smoke straight up to the ceiling.

“Head up, c’mon,” Ghost grunts as he shifts onto the bed in front of you, resting on his knees and holding his dick straight out as you push yourself up. “Johnny, you can have at her cunt. Don’t come before I do.”

“Yes, Sir,” Soap says, and you just barely have time to brace yourself for the rough fucking you know is coming when Johnny rams himself balls-deep inside of you. You both moan loudly at the feeling, and you fall back down to your elbows.

Ghost doesn’t bother telling you to sit up again, instead just grabs you by the hair and pulls up until he can slip himself into your mouth. With the way Soap is pounding you, you’re forced to nearly deepthroat him as soon as your lips close. 

You gag immediately, scrambling up onto your hands to try and save your poor throat. It’s almost impossible to think past the way that Soap uses your slick hole, the pounding making stars appear across your vision.

Ghost laughs at you when tears start to leak down your cheeks, one hand coming to pat you just a little harshly on the cheek as you’re fucked back and forth on his dick.

“Don’t even need to do anything, do I?” He hums, the hand on your face moving lower to wrap around your throat, making it feel even more like you’re choking. “Doing good, Johnny, you’re practically fucking her mouth for me.”

Johnny’s far past the point of words, only managing to moan as he huncehs over your back, lips tracing patterns across your shoulder blades and leaving trails of spit.

“Yeah, good boy. You’re a good girl too, sweetheart,” Ghost praises, using the hand on your head to brush the hair away from your face. You look up just in time to catch the smile on his face as he stares down at you. “Such a good cock sucker. Why don’t you use your tongue a little, c’mon. Don’t make Johnny do all the work now.”

It’s hard to work past the pistoning into your cunt, but you manage to listen to Ghost, licking up the underside of his length as best you can while being fucked raw. Johnny’s pace never falters, and you have no idea how he manages to keep himself from flying over the edge.

You trace the vein on the underside of Ghost’s dick with your tongue, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking to try and make him feel good. You can’t do much to move your head - the palm holding the back of your skull leaves that in his hands - so you try to focus your efforts on what you can do.

The gagging sounds are constant. The way Soap is fucking you, you can’t hold your balance properly, and you end up choking on nearly every thrust.

At some point, Johnny reaches the end of his rope. “Ghost, please, need to come, have to, ‘m so close, please….”

Ghost chuckles, a deep and mean sound. “Can’t hold it?”

A whine from Johnny, and you feel him shake his head against your back.

“Hm. Well, that’s too bad. Both me and our girl here are gettin’ off before you. Why don’t the two of you work on makin’ that happen.”

It takes you a moment to understand what he means, but when Johnny’s fingers start to work frantically at your oversensitive clit, you understand. Your eyes roll back in your head at the pleasure, and it’s all you can do to keep from going completely limp and suffocating on Ghost’s dick.

“There you go,” he moans, thrusting a little further into your mouth. “Feels good when you moan, sweetheart. Make her do it again, Johnny.”

And he does. You’re trapped in the animalistic fucking from Soap, your poor hole feeling stretched out and used, and you’re unable to escape the relentless pleasure shooting from your clit to your brain.

Both you and Johnny are thankful that it doesn’t take Ghost long at all to come. Once you’re moaning and choking on every thrust, it only takes a few seconds for him to be spurting come down your throat.

He pulls your mouth off of him, holding you back so that he can jack some of the come onto your face. He works his fat cock roughly, and you can’t help but stare at him as he gets himself off. He’s mean to himself, and somehow that’s what gives you the last push you need to clench down hard around Soap.

This orgasm is almost painful. Johnny doesn’t let up on you at all, keeps hammering his cock into you, keeps rubbing just past the line of too-harshly, and it leaves you crying out. You collapse back down to the bed when Ghost lets you, face smearing cum into the sheets. You feel like every nerve is on fire - your clit especially - and you instinctually start to writhe away from the source of it all, from Johnny. 

You hear Price laugh from the side. “Ease up on her, Johnny, you’ve got the poor thing running away from you.”

Johnny whines over your shoulder, digging his teeth into your skin and sucking. Your eyes roll back in your head as you’re forced into an even steeper arch, his cock bullying another inch inside of you.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Ghost grunts, and you feel Johnny pulled off of you. One second you’re receiving a fucking like you never have before, the next you’re left empty and open, legs still spread wide. You can’t help but whine a little, blinking teary eyes open.

Soap is begging from behind you. “No, no, no, L.t., please, I was so close, I can’t fuckin’… please, feel like I’m gonna die-!”

Ghost scoffs and you hear what you might think is a slap. You’re too focused on watching the way Price shifts Gaz off of his cock and up, then moves him like a doll so he’s leaning back agains the headboard and sitting up properly to look over your shoulder at Ghost and Soap.

“You’re gonna die, really Johnny? Stop throwing a tantrum or you really won’t get to come in our girl tonight.”

“No, sorry, sorry, I’ll be good, promise.”

“Then shut up and wait for your command.”

“Yes, sir.”

While the two of them argue, Price leans over to scoop you up by the armpits, wearing a sweet smile. He settles you on Gaz’s lap, knees bracketing his hips, then presses a dry kiss to your forehead. You wrap your arms around Kyle’s neck, leaning forward to nuzzle him as Price gives him the same treatment. His shaft rests perfectly against your cunt, head just poking at your hole.

“Bring him over here, Simon,” Price orders, stroking both of his hands over you and Gaz’s heads. As Johnny settles behind you he slips a hand down to your neck, forcing you to rest your face against Gaz’s throat and arch your back. 

Price stays with the three of you still, using one hand to steady Gaz’s cock and the other to shift your hips, helping you to sink down over it. You both moan into each other’s skin, and you feel a little drool slip from your lips.

“Good, there you go,” Price soothes, petting your thigh and down to Kyle’s once you’re fully seated. “Now, stretch her out a little more to take you, Johnny. Don’t be too quick - I still haven’t had my turn.”

Price stays another minute or so to help you get used to riding Gaz, guiding you up and down in a slow, but filling motion. Gaz is just as overwhelmed with pleasure as you are, gasping and moaning against your shoulder.

Once Price leaves, you feel a finger trace around Kyle’s cock. You jerk forward with a little whine, eyes flying open to meet Price’s where he’s settled against the headboard.

“Just relax,” he soothes as Ghost settles next to him. “Let Johnny fuck you, yeah? You know he’ll make it feel good. Poor lad just wants to come.”

Johnny whines at that, almost an agreement, and you nod a little, canting your hips further back so he’s got more room to work.

The first finger has you moaning, head thrown back at the stretch. He uses the cum and lube from your ass to slick your passage, making the sound of Kyle fucking you even wetter.

Each finger he adds feels like it’ll split you down the middle. Johnny doesn’t rush you but he does move just a bit faster than you might’ve asked - not so fast that you safeword, but enough for you to notice the stretch. Each addition makes you moan, burying your face a little further into the safety of Gaz’s neck.

Gaz himself is moaning on every thrust. The two of you work together, him helping lift you up so you can fuck yourself properly on him. You can feel him sucking hickies into your neck, and the soft throbbing offers a nice distraction from the pleasure wreaking havoc on your body.

Finally, Johnny deems you stretched enough.

“Go slowly,” Ghost warns as Johnny lines himself up with you. Kyle settles you so you rest on his thighs and he’s buried to the hilt, Johnny’s head pushing lightly at your rim. “You hurt her, I hurt you.”

“I know,” Johnny grunts, sinking his teeth into the shoulder Gaz hasn’t claimed. He starts to force his way into your dripping hole, and the three of you groan in unison.

You’ve never been so stretched in your life - as Johnny slowly sinks in you’re nearly convinced you’ll tear. The pressure alone is almost better than anything you’ve ever felt, and you can’t stop the continuous stream of whines and moans as Johnny inches further and further inside of you.

Gaz and Soap are just as far gone as you, both of them grunting and moaning.

“Fuck,” Gaz pants, fingers massaging your hip to keep himself still. “Can feel you, Johnny, you’re so warm.”

“Of-of course you can feel me,” Johnny says, letting go of your shoulder to lick around the area he’d been abusing. “We’re fucking the same hole, mate.” 

You bark out a laugh at that, but it quickly turns into a draw out moan when Johnny buries himself inside of you.

“Let us know when you’re alright,” Gaz says into your ear, voice heavy with need. “We can wait for you.”

It takes what feels like an eternity for you to adjust to the stretch. You rest yourself fully on Gaz’s shoulders, giving him your weight so you can just sit on their cocks. You take deep breaths to try and soothe the growing ache and get as used to the stretch as you can.

It must be several minutes later when you finally nod. “Go ahead,” you breathe. “I’m good, I can take it.”

Johnny laughs in your ear, the sound a little choked. “Attagirl.”

They find a pace that works quickly, Soap thrusting in as Gaz pulls out. The rhythm leaves you constantly filled, one of them always as deep as they can get. It also leaves them both in shambles, the rubbing of the other’s cock combined with your wet heat sending them into space.

None of you are capable of speech, just sounds pressed into each other’s skin. You think maybe Kyle and Johnny lock lips for a bit, but it’s hard to tell past the sounds of your coupling. You certainly don’t have the strength to do anything but lay there and take them into your body.

The way they work you over, one of them is always pressing against your g-spot. The constant stimulation leaves you whining. You feel like you might die, might just burn up into a thousand embers. Every inch of you feels overexposed, flayed open, and your cunt throbs.

You don’t need any pressure to your clit this time. Just the stretch of two cocks at once is more than enoug. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave - you can feel it growing, know it’s going to be catastrophic, and when it hits you feel dragged under 

Neither Soap or Gaz let up as you reach your peak. In fact they only get more vigorous, losing their rhythm as they start to focus on just getting themselves off. You yelp when they bottom out at once, one of them managing to poke at your cervix, and the insticutal muscle spasm has both of them moaning.

Johnny comes first, panting and gnawing at your shoulder as he bucks his hips into yours. You’re convinced there must be red spots on your ass from how hard he thrusts into you, but even that slight pain just makes everything feel better.

Gaz’s orgasm is triggered by Johnny’s - feeling you clench down so perfectly on him, feeling Soap’s cock twitch and throb right next to his, it’s all too much. They’re both thrown off of that cliff edge, moaning into your skin. 

By the time it’s over and you’ve all cooled down, the three of you are left just a limp pile of limbs, unable to do anything but be.

Price is the one who finally untangles you all. He grabs you by your elbows, drawing you away from Gaz and into his arms. You can’t help but wince and cry out when both Johnny and Kyle slip out of you at the same time, your hole fluttering around nothing.

“I know, I know,” Price soothes, laying you on your back. “You’re ok, deep breaths for me now. That’s good, doll, just like that.”

He hovers above you, stroking up and down your ribs while you slowly float back into your skin. When you finally manage to look up at him, he’s wearing a look of such pride that you can’t help but cry a little more.

He coos, swiping away your tears. “Pretty girl, you’re alright. Just one more, and then you’re done.”

You nod. “Want- want to make you feel good too,” you sniffle a bit, leaning further into his hand. “Can’t come again though, won’t feel good.”

“You don’t want any more orgasms?” His tone is a little condescening, but you just shake your head. “That’s alright, honey, you don’t need to get off. Just gotta lay nice and still for me, you can do that, can’t you?”

You nod as he tucks your legs up, pushing your thighs back until your knees rest by your head. The stretch is hardly noticeable with every other sensation wracking your body.

You feel his fingers pet around your pussy, whine when he glances over your clit.

“I’d hoped to have my turn with this little hole,” he hums, tucking a few fingers inside of you and rubbing. You hardly feel them at all. “But it’s too stretched out for me. Bet I wouldn’t feel a thing if I tried to fuck you here, huh?”

You whine sadly at that, burying your face in your calf.

“That’s alright. I know needy girls have to be stretched like that sometimes, it’s not your fault, pet. Just means I’ll have to use your other hole - good thing you have two, hm?”

He doesn’t give you any more prep, just rubs himself a few times and thrusts into your asshole in one long movement.

You’re so fucked out, it’s hard to keep track of his words after that. You can feel them rumbling through your thighs when he leans down to pepper kisses across your face, but they’re unintelligible. All you can focus on are the long, slow thrusts into you. Price drops nearly his full weight into you on every thrust, but each movement feels glacial. 

He’s big enough to stretch you out a bit, to make sure you still feel the slight sting of something too big being where it’s not meant to be. It’s not enough to get you off, but the heavy weight and motions still feel heavenly inside you.

Eventually he comes - you’re not sure how long it’s been or what it is that gets him there, but you feel him jerk to a stop, then feel his come spreading inside of you. It’s a nice feeling, and you smile as you let your eyes drift shut. 

“Thank you,” you hear him whisper, his whiskers brushing over your cheeks. “Thank you, sweet girl. Felt so good for me.”

Things exist in snippets past that.

Someone pulls you up to their chest (you open your eyes long enough to recongize Alejandro, go back to snoozing right after), someone wipes a cloth softly over both of your holes and shushes your whine (you think you see Ghost walking from the en-suite to the bed), someone lays their weight across your back (you feel Soap’s mohawk brush your arm), another over your legs.

You fall asleep like that, dogpiled in bed with your favorite men, all of you drained and sated. You can’t think of a more perfect way to spend a night.

[blindmagdalena]

Guilty Pleasures ( chapter two )

18+ 3.8k homelander x plus size f!reader. workplace harassment, stalking, voyeurism, masturbation, lite humiliation kink, lite somnophilia, breaking & entering, petty theft, sublander flavored. nebulously takes place post s1. part 2/4. AO3 link. | Chapter Directory

Homelander is the most powerful man in the world, and all he wants is to be yours.

After spending the majority of your evening and the following morning anticipating being fired, walking into work the next day feels like traversing a thinly frozen lake, each step webbing out in precarious cracks.

Clearly you’re not the only one who thinks so: you clock a handful of surprised looks from coworkers who’d attended the meeting and took note of the tension between you and Vought’s golden boy.

Maybe they’d taken bets on whether or not you’d be coming in this morning.

There’s no sign of Homelander on your way in. Not that you were expecting him–yesterday was the first time you actually saw him in person–but you still find yourself on the lookout. It’s hard to say whether you’re anticipating or dreading him. Part of you is still expecting to open your door and find a letter on your desk politely informing you that they’ve determined you aren’t a good “culture fit” for the company, and that your probation has been terminated.

After all, who in their right mind would take your side over Homelander’s?

You push open your office door, and sure enough, there is a letter waiting for you, but not in the way you expected. You stand in the doorway, staring in quiet incomprehension. The envelope, crisp and bright white, is propped up in a bed of rich red roses sitting in a pretty vase upon your desk. You glance behind you before you step inside, closing the door behind you, and approach the desk cautiously. You pluck the paper out of the bouquet, taking a moment to smell the flowers–they smell as good as they look–before you carefully rip open the envelope, tearing the small american flag sticker that sealed it.

Inside, there’s only one word on the folded piece of paper, scrawled in surprisingly elegant handwriting.

Truce?

You can’t help the incredulous little bark of laughter you give at that. It’s not even an apology. It’s a demand that he expects a gratuitous bundle of flowers will help you swallow, like taking medicine with a spoonful of sugar.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say quietly to the letter, setting it down on your desk. You give the roses one last sniff, testing one of the soft petals between your fingers. You wonder if what you said actually got through to him.

Homelander has no real reason to smooth things over with you: you’re no one. He’s posed no risk to himself by coming after you. He could no doubt have you fired by complaining that your marketing tactics don’t align with his brand. It’s hard to imagine Vought denies him much.

Yet he is apparently negotiating peace. It’s not nearly enough, but it is a start.

Or maybe it’s just more than you expected.

You sit, idly tapping the letter against your desk. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t still think him handsome. Homelander wasn’t the first man to ogle your tits while you gave a presentation, but he was certainly the first to fluster you like that when he did. His sly smile had made you want to slap him, but there was a questionable little part of you that thought about kissing it better afterwards.

Taking in a steadying breath, you slip the letter into your desk drawer and adjust the flowers to the side, admiring them a moment before you pull out your laptop.

If Homelander can behave himself enough to let you do your job without public humiliation, you can afford a truce. You don’t need to forgive or condone him to be civil, or even to continue having your own private fantasies. A little guilty pleasure now and again never hurt anyone.

You can’t know that Homelander is observing you throughout this internal conversation, watching through several layers of steel and concrete, his parted lips curving into a slow smile as you accept his offering. You can’t know that you haven’t just acknowledged a truce, but an invitation.

No, you can’t possibly know what’s to come.

Two days later, you diligently change the water that the roses in your office sit in. They’re doing well, the crimson buds having unfurled into a splay of velvety petals. You pinch one between your thumb and forefinger and stroke it absently. Homelander has continued to be a scarcity, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t seen him. Quite the opposite: you spend most of your working hours either looking at or thinking about his face to the point where it’s starting to follow you home each day.

That’s what you tell yourself when you think of him outside of work hours, anyways.

It’s been long enough now that you wonder if the flowers were the end of it. He was simply covering his ass with a half hearted gesture that slightly resembled an apology so that you could both comfortably drop the subject. That was entirely fine by you so long as he actually did improve his behavior.

A familiarly brisk knock at your door catapults your heart up against the cage of your ribs like a spooked hare. It’s the exact same beat, you’re sure of it. You stay quiet, half expecting to be barged in upon, but when nothing happens, you move from your desk and open the door yourself, intentionally blocking it with your body.

Sure enough, Homelander stands tall on the other side. He flashes his signature smile while your eyes narrow suspiciously. “Can I help you?”

“I think I’m the one who can help you,” he says brightly, that spread of teeth downright wolfish. He lifts a handful of papers that have been stapled at the corner, gesturing for you to take it.

Still wary, you take them from him and shift, wedging your foot to keep the door firmly in place while you flip through the pages. Your brows furrow as you recognize chunks of your own presentation. Understanding dawns when you realize that he’s annotated them.

“You read my presentation,” you say, unable to mask your surprise.

“Obviously. It’s my image on the line, right? Got some notes for you, but I have to say: y’mostly nailed it,” he says, reaching out to rest a gloved hand on the doorway.

“Mostly?” You echo, quirking an eyebrow at him as you look up from the pages.

“Yeah, mostly. Again, I have some minor notes,” he says, wiggling his other hand in a vague gesture. “But I figure I owe you praise on a job mostly well done.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Crossing your arms, you abandon your stern foothold on the door in order to shift your weight, your incredulity showing in every inch of your body language.  “What you owe me is an apology.”

Homelander’s grin softens into a smile that’s no less challenging. “Looks to me like you’ve already been enjoying my apology,” he says, leaning slightly to gaze past you, to the bundle of roses sitting prettily on your desk.

You briefly glance over your shoulder, but your expression remains impassive. Unimpressed. “That? That isn’t an apology. An apology would include the words I’m sorry.”

He scoffs a dismissive laugh, swaying back to look away, but you persist.

“I’m serious,” you say, luring his ocean blue gaze back to yours. “I want you to say to me ‘I’m sorry for the way I behaved during your presentation. It won’t happen again.’ “

The two of you hold each other’s gaze with all the magnitude of two gunmen in a duel, hands steady over your proverbial pistols. 

To your surprise, Homelander does not fire back. He raises a dainty white flag.

“I’m sorry for the way I behaved during your presentation,” he says, words slow and measured. You watch his tongue flash over his bottom lip, wetting it attractively. You fight to not let your eyes linger on it. “It won’t happen again.”

You swallow, suddenly finding thought and speech an impossible task. You weren’t prepared for such raw, ready obedience from him, nor the intensity in his gaze that follows it. He reminds you of a charmed snake–docile so long as he is transfixed.

“Good,” you say, the word half a sigh. Homelander’s lips part and he breathes in like he’s caught wind of something particularly delicious smelling. “I accept your apology, and I appreciate that you took the time to do this,” you say, gesturing with the documents in your hand. “I’ll go over them and get back to you.”

He reaches out, bracing his hand on your office door. You half expect him to push it open, but he merely holds it there. “We could go over them together,” he suggests slyly.

“No,” you say, clearly disarming him. He looks as though he’s forgotten the meaning of the word. “I’m in the middle of another project at the moment.”

The leather of his gloves creaks faintly in your ear as he flexes his grip on the edge of the door. While what you’ve said is true, it’s also serving as a test. Words and flowers are pretty things, but only actions always speak the truth.

“At the moment,” he repeats, gears visibly turning in his eyes. “So… Later?” He extrapolates, displaying an uncharacteristic tentativeness alongside his obvious displeasure at the taste of rejection. You even see a glimmer of hope in the mess of his expression.. 

He did pass the test. You suppose you can reward him for that.

“Another time,” you say, giving your door an exploratory push. He relents, his hands sliding down the length of it before falling away as he takes a half-step back. “How about tomorrow on my lunch break? 1:00 o'clock sharp.”

He splits into a smile that looks more genuine than any of his you’ve seen before. “Aaalrighty-roo. Sounds gooood to meeeee,” he says, drawing out his vowels more the closer he gets to actually having to leave. At your silent, amused stare, he claps his gloved hands together with a muffled thump! and takes a few more steps backwards. “Yooooou’ll see me… tomorrow.”

Your smile pinches along with your brows. What a strange way to phrase it. “See you then,” you say, watching as his face is eclipsed by your closing door. You wait a beat and then let out a thin thread of breath from your pursed lips, resting your weight on the door.

Looking down at the papers in your hand, you push off from the door and head to your desk, flipping through them.

Such a strange man, you think, carrying the notes to your desk. You set them down next to the vase of roses and try not to think too much about the unconscious smile your lips keep settling into for the rest of the day.

Homelander’s got you hook, line and sinker. He’s certain of it. He lingers on the other side of your door just long enough to watch you through it while you settle, a charmed smile set on your lips. He can already imagine how those lips would feel against his own, how they’d taste. He swallows thickly and looks around before he departs, already plotting his next move.

The two of you have a date tomorrow, and in order to be at the top of his game, he’s going to have to do a little additional research. Knowing your work was a good first step. The next one will be learning about you.

Following you home is the easy part. It ultimately feels chivalrous to do so once he realizes you walk home even at this time of year, when the sun sets long before the work day ends. He drifts above you, cocking his head curiously. No wonder you walk. The streets are packed as tightly as sardine cans, and your apartment garage isn’t much better. The claustrophobia of it all serves as a stark contrast to the openness of Vought tower.

The interior of your apartment provides an even sharper juxtaposition to his penthouse. It’s tidy, but the comparatively low ceilings and minimal floor space still make it look cramped. Somehow, you simultaneously have too much and yet not much at all, the confinement of a downtown apartment making what minimal affects you do own seem crowded together.

That only becomes more apparent once he’s inside, slipped in through your balcony after sleep has taken you. Why would you bother to lock your balcony when you live on the 8th floor? It works out perfectly for him.

In all fairness, your living room feels cozier once he’s standing in the center of it. Your walls are lined with an assortment of art pieces and photographs, and the shelves are well stocked with books and knick-knacks. You have a decent film collection displayed on your media console, and he can’t help but snoop through it, bending at the waist, examining through the rows. He cocks his head.

Odd. You’d think an employee of Vought would have at least a few VCU films. He runs his index finger along the spines, slightly adjusting them flush as he goes. Pursing his lips, he straightens up and looks at the closed cabinets on either side. The left one yields an untidy assortment of electronic odds and ends, cords and the like. Nothing of much interest other than an indication that while you like to keep up appearances, you aren’t quite as together as you’d like people to think. 

It’s on the right side, however, he finds what he’s really looking for.

“Bingo,” he whispers, smiling to himself as he scopes out your little hidden collection of Vought hero flicks. Specifically, his films. He’s less interested in the handful of others you own (Queen Maeve: Her Majesty, Black Noir: Insurrection, Lamplighter: The Bright World, etc) and more so in the fact that you have nearly his entire catalog tucked away. 

Nearly. You’re missing his eighteen part miniseries, Homelander: Brightest Night.

At least that gives him something to gift you.

Closing the cabinet, he meanders about the rest of your apartment. You have some plants in varying states of decay, with only a few cacti looking to be in decent shape. Either your work keeps you too busy to properly mind them, or you just like the idea of them more than the reality. It tells him that you’re looking–and failing–to fill a void in your life. You want to feel less alone in your home, you want to nurture something. You just haven’t found the right something yet.

Striding into your kitchen, arms folded behind his back, he peers through the cheap wood veneer of your fiberboard cupboards, unveiling an unusually broad assortment of mugs. There doesn’t seem to be any particular theme: holidays, locales, characters, and a menagerie of patterns. 

He hums softly, pivoting out of the kitchen and down the hall, his steps preternaturally light. He listens for the beat of your heart as he draws near, tunes it in alongside the shallow cadence of your breath. Deep asleep. Good.

The walls are lined with pictures of you and others. Friends or family, he can’t say, but you look to have an abundance of both. He rarely sees himself in photos that aren’t promotional material. He pauses to straighten a picture frame, and finds himself so viciously jealous of the man sharing the frame with you–his lips pressed to your cheek, your laughing smile so genuine he can nearly hear it–that he almost knocks it to the ground.

Running his tongue along his teeth, he continues on.

Your bedroom door is open. He slips in silently, pausing just through the doorway. Your bed's a queen, too big for just you. You’re sprawled comfortably amidst pillows, limbs splayed in just such a way that he can easily imagine fitting himself in the empty spaces between them. He can smell the lingering burn of the candle you’d lit when you got home. He picks it up off your dresser, reading the label: Cup ‘o Joe. 

Eugh. He never cared for coffee, and the artificial sweetness surrounding the note is cloying. Your perfume, on the other hand, he doesn’t mind. He notices the bottle alongside a few other of your things and puts the candle down in favor of that, popping the cap off. The smell hits him before he sprays it: vanilla first, then amber and something more woodsy. It’s less impressive by itself than it had been on you.

Still, it’s yours. You chose it for yourself.

Slipping off one of his gloves, he lightly sprays into the inside of it before he sets the bottle back down, recapping it. It won’t be the same, but he’s driven by the compulsion to spirit away any little pieces of you that he can. Just enough to satiate himself until he can have you properly.

That’s when he sees your blouse from today in a careless heap at the top of your laundry basket next to your dresser. Licking his lips, he tests the feel of the garment between his bare fingers. He’s always been sensitive to fabrics, and while the blend of this one is fairly cheap, it’s been worn and washed enough that it’s soft against his skin. He grabs a handful of it and lifts it to his mouth, brushing it along his lips, under his nose, and he deeply inhales your lingering scent mixing with the fresh pump of perfume.

He bites back a moan, screwing his eyes shut. His cock gives a dull little throb. Fuck, the spell you’ve cast on him makes him ache just for the smell of you, makes him salivate. He swallows it back, letting out a rough little breath as he reluctantly puts the shirt back down. Under it, he spies a little flash of something black and lacy. His stomach clenches, and he’s reaching for it before he can stop himself, fishing the black panties out of the heap and twisting the fabric between his fingers.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He can’t afford to overindulge. He won’t be able to control himself if he does, but he also can’t bring himself to put the little slip of fabric back down. He imagines he can almost taste where your sweet cunt had been pressed to it. Christ, he’s practically drooling. Out of sheer impulse, he yanks down the zipper of his pants with a quiet hiss of metal against metal and hastily pushes your underwear into his cup, biting down hard on his lip. He grinds once against his hand, savoring the feel of the fabric against his cock.

He’ll enjoy them far more than you’ll miss them.

Zipping himself back up, he carefully pulls open your top dresser drawer. He curiously pushes the contents around, mindful not to overly disturb, and his knuckles bump something solid. He shifts one of your bras–another near painful pang of arousal at the reminder of your breasts–aside and finds, to his delight, what any good marketing department would describe as  “a large purple massage wand.”

A vibrator. He chews his bottom lip briefly, turning it over in his grip. An exciting find on all fronts. It’s smooth and decently hefty, good quality. You deserve even better. You might be capable of indulging yourself with this, but he could make you scream. You’ll never need a silly little toy again. Not when you have him.

Homelander moves to put it back in the drawer, but–

“Fuck!” He hisses when the button catches on his finger, and suddenly the damn thing is buzzing.

Shut up, shut up, shut up, he chants mentally, jabbing at the buttons in an attempt to silence it, but pressing the same ones only makes the accursed device louder. In a frantic move, he grips the neck and squeezes. There’s a soft crunch beneath the silicone, and as abruptly as it had begun, the buzzing ends. His heart is thudding heavily in his chest. He listens to the silence, to you.

He looks over his shoulder. No movement. Your breaths remain shallow.

Christ.

So much for leaving no trace. He slips the busted toy back amidst your underthings and snatches his glove off of your dresser, tucking it under his arm. He hones his attention on you as he approaches your bed, assuring himself that you really are still asleep. He stands there for a while, admiring the part of your lips and the haphazard splay of your pajamas and where they cling to your body.

No bra.

His bare hand flexes. Being so close is too much of a temptation. He wets his lips with a quick slide of his tongue and bends down. He ghosts his fingers just over your cheek, not quite daring to touch. He can smell the faint remnants of your toothpaste on your breath, your shampoo, and beneath it all, you. It's intoxicating, it's…

Your brows furrow slightly in your sleep and you make a soft noise, interrupting his thoughts. He wonders if you’re dreaming–dreaming of him, perhaps. He’d like to think so. He’d like to think that you’re just as affected by him wanting you as he is, and that’s the real reason you invited him to lunch. He saw it in your eyes when he echoed your words, the thrill that went through you. He could have gone to his knees for you in that moment and had you in giving himself to you.

Desperate for just a taste, he kisses ever so gently between your brows, his own breaths matching the cadence of yours. Divine. You're divine. So effortlessly perfect and so aware of your own power. How could he not want every part of you?

He means to leave it there, to walk away with nothing but the slight salt of your brow on his lips, but the pull is too great. He's greedy, drunk on the smell and the taste of you, on the feel of your panties pressed up against his cock, and he can't stop himself from sampling your lips against his.

It’s the barest hint of touch, and yet the contact lances electricity through him like he’s been struck by a bolt of lightning. Your lips are soft, soft, soft. He knew they would be. Everything about you is so fucking soft. It takes everything in him to pull away, standing back to his full height.

He's aching, yearning so intensely he could rip the covers away and take you just like this, shake you awake, declare himself and have you. Would you scream, or would you have that same look of affronted understanding of him? You see him in a way few are ever brave–or stupid–enough to dare.

Not yet.

He won’t spoil the game. He agreed to play by your terms. As far as you’re concerned, he’ll do precisely that. You’ll be none the wiser in regards to his little reconnaissance mission–anything could have happened to your vibrator–and the two of you can play your little game as if you stand on equal footing.

Sucking in a silent breath, Homelander leaves alone, but not empty handed.

He’ll make very good use of his little trophy tonight.

( chapter three )

[rowanthestrange]

A thing I think should be included with Ruby’s abandonment/attachment issues when we’re writing her, is that she was a foster sibling to a lot of kids. Like a lot of kids. She has effectively lost so many siblings and playmates and even babies/very young children she’s essentially had a hand in raising. Her entire life has been loving and losing. And for foster kids getting adopted or reunited with their parents under better circumstances, she will basically have been unable to grieve that properly because it’s a good thing they’re gone and they’re supposed to celebrate it. She’s clearly very loving and caring even after a whole life of that, even though each time they leave a piece of her goes with them.

No shit she’s going to end up with some attachment issues. Especially if she considers herself the lucky one, survivor’s guilt, Carla adopted her and none of the others, who have probably expressed that sentiment to her directly and asked why, in the hopes they could stay forever too, or just jealousy - what made you so special?

Foster children/youths in the UK also have to choose themselves to stay in-touch. Foster carers cannot directly contact the child once they have left their care. A “clean slate” approach is preferred. So if the child doesn’t request to get into contact — and sometimes aren’t told they would have to or are discouraged from doing so — that means losing contact immediately and for good. Does that remind you of anything? Sometimes it also happens very quickly - it is far from unheard of for a foster sibling to go to school in the morning and find out the child they’ve been living with for months has gone when they come back in the evening. Even with warning it could still often be only days. I think you could argue 73 Yards has more to do with Ruby’s experience as a foster sibling than being an adoptee.

And of course the continuous loss of loved ones mirrors the Doctor’s experience with their companions fairly often. Another thing that quietly binds them that most other people couldn’t understand.

[canisalbus]

I want you to know that your art is very important to me, and I'm very invested in all of the characters I have seen from you. Also, the discussion about Finnish and other languages having gendered words or not has been the last little push to get me to start learning Finnish which I think is fun.

I'm making this a little compilation post of all the language asks I got. Thank you for sharing, this was genuinely really interesting!

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

How You Turn My Word; Chapter 2

The day continues, and this time you find yourself in an entire new world... a world called The Underground.

Character; Lilia Vanrouge

Content; Gender-neutral reader, more shenanigans, reader isn't happy

Content Warning; Intoxication (Lilia), swearing

Word Count; 2.7 K

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Don't put my work into AI; I'll make sure you end up in the Bog of Eternal Stench.

Lilia’s night was not going according to plan and he was mentally cursing himself over it.

Thing Lilia did not plan for #1; he got lost. To be fair though, many a thing had drastically changed since the last time he romped around the mortal realm. A few hundred years would do that though. Humans now seemed to live in tall metal boxes rather than the humble cottages of ages past. 

Thing Lilia did not plan for #2; a red flower deceiving him and containing something akin to liquor. So he was flying around lost while under the influence, which only worsened his situation. (Lilia did not know it, but the red flower was in fact a hummingbird feeder with sugar water which had been left out in the sun for too long and had fermented. Make sure to change your hummingbird feeder often on hot days so you don’t cause a nectar-loving friend to fly while wasted) 

Thing Lilia did not plan for #3; getting himself stuff in one of those tall metal boxes, and he was now stuck inside some cursed metal labyrinth. At least it was not iron or silver, as it did not burn, apparently, humans no longer fortified their abodes with those metals. Perhaps the times have changed for the better?

But Lilia finally escaped the infernal metal labyrinth, perhaps luck was finally on his side tonight after all! He bumped around a few corners. My my, what a small hovel. Perhaps things have not changed all that much from the last time I was here… But Lilia was rudely pulled from his thoughts when something swatted him clean out of the air. And the culprit? A rather rotund grey cat with large blue eyes, which was now carrying Lilia into its lair, most likely to play with him for a bit before deciding that it had had it’s fun and ultimately put him out of his misery.

His night went from a jolly and somewhat embarrassing tale he would regale about at the local tavern, to a bedtime story parents would tell their children about the dangers of going places that you really shouldn’t. Should he get out of this sticky situation Lilia would not live this incident down. 

The cat placed Lilia in a collection of socks and then sauntered off, calling out at the top of its lungs. Great, it's getting company for supper, and I’m the appetizer. How lovely. But Lilia knew he would have a better chance of getting out of this situation if he stayed calm and waited for an opportunity to escape. Even while tipsy, he could keep his cool.

And the feline was back and yanked Lilia out of the sock hole. Cracking open his one eye he saw that the cat did not come back with its hungry friends, but rather, a human. That was both good news and bad news. Good news; he most likely was not going to be eaten tonight! Yippee! Bad news; the last time he was in bat-form in a human’s abode, he was chased around with a torch, which he really did not want to go through again. So his best course of action was to play dead in this situation.

When the human left the room though, he took his chance and took flight once again, trying to find a way out. The cat was trying to catch him again, but Lilia knew of its tricks this time and dodged every swipe it sent his way.

But he was pulled out of his thoughts when the human screeched at the cat, “YOU CAUGHT A FUCKING BAT?!” 

Oh yeah, they did not sound happy, not at all, but it seemed to be directed more at their feline companion rather than him.

As he was busy flapping around, trying to find an escape but to no avail, he also heard the human whispering to him. “Don’t fly towards my head, bat. I’m just trying to get you back outside. You’re a nice bat, right? Nice bat, nice bat.”

Were he not preoccupied and in a better state of mind, Lilia would have been amused by this. Currently, though he was occupied with trying not to be eaten and finding a way out of this cursed place. He was not in a laughing mood. All Lilia wanted to do was get back home, pass out in his bed but he would also be happy with his sofa as well, and pretend that this was nothing more than a bad dream after a night spent tavern hopping. Dealing with a horrid hangover would be better than this… and he was most likely going to have one of those anyways. Tonight really wasn’t Lilia’s night, not at all.

Then the human grabbed the cat, and Lilia was finally left alone. The window was open, but he didn’t know that, as his mind was too preoccupied with you know, not dying, that he hadn’t noticed that the human had opened it for him. So where did Lilia go? Well, he went back into the metal labyrinth (air duct), and fumbled around until he tired himself out. It wasn’t the most ideal of spots to crash for the night, but it was better than going back and possibly being eaten, Lilia would rather avoid that. So this was going to be his bed for the night, a lonely quiet corner of the air duct system, where he could hopefully wake up sober tomorrow. But he yearned for his warm quilts that awaited for him back at home, back in Faerie, or as some call it, the Underground.

Lilia wasn’t even supposed to be in the mortal realm in the first place, but curiosity had won him over, and he even ignored the travel advisory that was in place. Some crow fae had travelled there about a century or so ago and had yet to return back, hence a travel advisory. But yet here he was in the mortal realm, tiny, drunk, and utterly lost. His bad decisions could be looked into further detail once he got some shut-eye. So he wrapped himself in his wings and passed out in the corner of the air vent. Hopefully, when he woke up he could turn this disastrous day around.

…

Upon waking up, Lilia groaned — or rather, in this case, squeaked — and stretched his wings out. So the wretched metal maze and last night's fiasco was not some liquor-hazed dream; how lovely. Utterly delightful.

At least the strange maze echoed sound quite well, so he knew what exits to avoid. Not that one, he could hear a dog barking, and the feline encounter was enough for him. No, not that one either, he could hear children screaming.

Finally, he came to an opening, there was some quiet chatter, but it was far enough away where Lilia felt comfortable enough to explore this potential escape route. 

Why does this look familiar? AM I BACK IN THE BUILDING?! Yes, yes he was. At least there was no sign of the ca–

“Mrp?” Speak of the devil.

The cat got out of its den and lept at Lilia, who dodged the attack, and the cat pushed some books off a desk. The cat was also screaming at him, and causing an all-around ruckus. Lilia managed to outmaneuver the feline, but soon a brand new human came into the scene.

The new human took one look at Lilia and backpedalled out of the room. But the human had just created another escape route for him, and Lilia flew, well, like a bat straight out of hell for it. Too bad the next room contained two more humans, including the one he had encountered from last night… maybe they would be nice again and spare him for trespassing on their small abode?

In the midst of the chaos, the human from last night knocked him out of the air with a broom. Okay, that hurt little Beastie. But that swing and the crash landing into a table caused Lilia to shift back into his human form, which also caused sparkles to happen. Did humans still think magic was evil? Well, he was about to find out.

Everyone remained silent, and after the sheer noise of the chaos, it was deafening, even the cat was quiet. And Lilia stared at the human that had knocked him out of the air, you. And you were staring straight back at him, looking utterly baffled. Well, this is awkward… I think I have overstayed my welcome… 

Lilia snapped his fingers, and he started to disappear into sparkles yet again, this time going home since he wasn’t able to use his magic when stuck in bat form. And it was happening without a pinch, but you seemed to trip on thin air and crash landed on his feet, disappearing with him; a stowaway coming to Faerie. 

… Well this is no good now, is it?

…

…

…

 When the green sparkles subsided, you found yourself sitting in some sort of bog, and the water had made it into your mouth by some twist of fate. While you were busy spitting the bog water out of your mouth, the stranger was standing by the bank, dry, without any sulfuric-tasting water in his mouth, and looking better for wear.

Pulling yourself out of the bog water — eugh, you smelled like eggs now, great — you pointed an accusatory finger at him, water dripping from the end. “Where,” you spat out some extra bog water from your mouth, “am I? And why does it reak of eggs?!” You would have looked and sounded more imposing, but you were sopping wet, covered in mud, and spitting out coughs trying to get the bad taste out of your mouth; which wasn’t really commanding any sort of respect.

The stranger, Lilia, snorted before letting out a cough, trying to hide his amusement very poorly. He waved his hand, green sparkles surrounded you and you were now dry, still covered in mud, but dry. “Faerie, although some call it the Underground.”

You opened your mouth, but he wagged his finger at you. “And before you blame me for bringing you here, you have no one to blame for this but yourself!” Despite the cheeriness, there was something cold and off putting in his eyes, like he was calculating something. But that moment passed, and the almost annoying cheerful facade came back in full. “As for the smell? That so happens to be The Bog of Eternal Stench!”

“Like eternal eternal?” You really didn’t need to smell like rotten eggs for the rest of your days.

The stranger just chuckled, “Fret not, Beastie, I decided to return the favour, since your feline friend decided not to eat me. But it is indeed ‘eternal eternal’ if you don’t have the means to get rid of it.”

Beastie? “Uh, okay.” not the most eloquent of things to say, but really, could anyone blame you? You just fell through some kind of portal, magic(?) was real, and oh yeah, so were fae/faeries or whatever the hell they called themselves. So ‘Uh, okay’ was perfectly fine in this situation.

Mr. Sparkles — if he was going to call you Beastie, he deserved a dumb nickname — just gave you a smile, exposing the barest hint of his fangs; despite his small frame, he was still dangerous, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. It was as if he was assessing you, to see if you would be worth the trouble to help. You didn’t know if either option would be good by the way his magenta eyes twinkled with mischief.

He let out a huff and started walking away, and you followed. “I wouldn’t recommend following me, Beastie,” he hummed, and you tripped over a rock, vines keeping you to the moss. “The court would not take kindly to you.” 

You glared at him and tried ripping the vines off of your feet, but they didn’t budge. “And why should I listen to you?” 

Mr. Sparkles booped you on the nose, “Well, it would ensure that you made it out of here alive, which I believe you would find beneficial and all.” 

Obnoxious prick. But he did have a point, you would rather make it back home alive rather than fucking around and finding out (aka dying). “So what? Are you going to just leave me here? No welcome brochure? Thanks.” 

You were being sarcastic, since it was either sarcasm or having a full-on existential crisis, since hey, magic wasn’t real in your world! Dimension? Galaxy? Where the fuck was this place?! How the hell did you end up here?!

“Hmm good point…” he snapped his fingers and there was now a book sitting in your lap. “This should suffice, do be warned though, Beastie, I may call on you later to return the favour. For now though,” he started to turn into green sparkles, “toodaloo!~” And he turned into a bat, flying off into the sunset, leaving you alone at the edge of the swamp with the only things to your name being the clothes on your back and a book in your lap.

How to Survive the Underground; For Humans! … Did he just give you this world’s equivalent of a For Dummies book? What the fuck? Was this kind of sick joke to him?

…

…

Once some of your ire had subsided, you decided to sit down on a boulder and read a bit of the book while there was still some sunlight out, but it was dipping into the horizon fast.

How to Survive the Underground; For Humans! By Yelworc Erid Preface …… i - iv Chapter 1; Surviving Your First Night…… 1 - 10 Chapter 2; Edible Food for Humans …… 11 - 31 Chapter 3; The Basics of Fae Etiquette …… 32 - 35 3.1; Species Specifics …… 36 - 146 3.2; Government Specifics …… 147 - 169 Chapter 4; Help! I Have Been Indentured to a Fae! …… 170 - 200 Chapter 5; Adjusting to Fae Social Life …… 201 - 224 Chapter 6; Transmittable Illnesses & Diseases …… 225 - 261 Chapter 7; Fae Courting Practices …… 262 - 264 7.1; Species Specifications …… 265 - 366 7.2; Government Specifications …… 367 - 389 7.3; Accepting a Courting Proposal …… 390 - 393 7.4; Refusing a Courting Proposal …… 394 - 401 Chapter 8; How to Handle Fae Children …… 402 - 452 Chapter 9; How to Leave the Underground … 453 Chapter 10; Adjusting to Life in the Underground …… 454 - 482 Acknowledgments …… 483 - 485

Looking back up to the horizon, you quickly turned the pages to Chapter 1; Surviving Your First Night.

“If you are unable to find yourself some suitable shelter, one should find themselves safe by camping out in a rowan tree. These trees can easily be found by their vermillion clusters of berries. They keep away all native species of the Underground,” you read out loud, turning your attention to the trees nearby, searching for those berries. “Rowan tree, rowan tree–”

A loud screech coming from the undergrowth only pushed you further. 

Nope, I do not want to find out what THAT was! Nope! NoPe! NOPE! 

Finally, you found a tall enough tree and you hauled your ass up it like there was a fire below you, and you were up in the canopy, far enough up that nothing could reach you, but also high enough where you needed to be careful, since you didn’t want to meet an early death because you made a wrong move. But for now, you were safe.

“Nice try buddy,” you muttered to yourself, trying to get comfy. Wood wasn’t the comfiest thing in the world, but you weren’t really in the position to be complaining. “I am not on the menu.”

The screech came again, this time closer; yeah, you weren’t sleeping tonight. The sun was now beyond the horizon, and there was no moon, the only light coming from the stars above; it was very pretty, but you could see jack shit. This was going to be a long night… and not a fun one, since you could also see the glowing eyes of unknown creatures which were, quite frankly, freaky as fuck. So yeah, no sleep for you.

“This fucking sucks,” you grumbled, and a chittering from the bog seemed to mock you. “This really fucking sucks.”

…

…

…

…

Tags; @busycloudy, @eynnwwyjth, @identity-theft-101, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @lucid-stories, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

~~~~~~~

Author's Note; This chapter is shorter, but it felt natural to end the chapter like this. This chapter, and the previous one, were both rewrites of an old WIP, so from here on out I don't have to rewrite! YIPPEE!!! Rewriting takes me forever, so we shall see what I come up with next.

If you liked this, do check out my masterlist for more content!